#Link is occasionally a little shit but that's fine

[musical-chan]

Father of Time Chapter 38: The Captain, the Sailor and the Musician

Captain Link did not sleep well that night.

He never did before an impending battle.  And now there were two other Links in his sleeping space, which didn't help much but he found himself unwilling to find alternate arrangements.  He would never forgive himself if anything happened to the other two. They were just boys and Cia had snatched them out of their homes, their own times.  They were children!   It was not better that Cia had chased after him but this whole situation made his skin crawl.  

He had so many questions about them, the Sailor and the Musician. Both fighting Ganondorf before they were even teenagers and sporting scars from hard battle. Had the Hero of Time actually defeated Ganondorf at so young an age?  Everything Zelda could remember seemed to indicate he had been older, that Ganondorf had been sealed away in the Twilight Realm only to reappear centuries later for the Hero of Twilight to deal with.  Those parts of history they knew, though the details had long disintegrated into time.  Could they have gotten his age so wrong?

At least the Sailor was open and cheerful about his adventures.  Link was sure that, given enough time, he would tell everything with a story-teller's flourish.  The Hero of Time had so many secrets they practically spilled out of his eyes when he looked at them.  And then there was the magic he held at his command.  Zelda had not seen what Link had out at the portals, but she swore there was a great and dangerous power inside the boy.  After that desperate surge of energy with the songs earlier, he wouldn't dare to doubt it.  Whatever the Musician had been trying to do, it was strong enough for everyone in the room to feel it.

And it had failed.

(Read the rest on AO3)

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Thinking about Frank Castle x Avengers!Reader

You met him through Bucky because Sam would obviously try and find Bucky a veteran's support group like the one he ran in CATWS but in Brooklyn - which led him to Curtis' group (I've put this HC in previous writing and I stand by it)

You're roommates with Sam and Bucky and occasionally they host poker night with some of the guys and one night you come home from an evening stroll to a kitchen table of vets and beer and cards.

You smile shyly and say hi to the group and Frank is instantly smitten.

But it takes weeks of casual small talk and asking Bucky about you for him to finally pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Once you make things official, he doesn't want anyone coming after you in retaliation against him plus he's so scared to lose yet another person he cares about. So he asks to keep your relationship secret even from the rest of the Avengers, which makes you roll your eyes because you have super powers you'd be fine to defend yourself against any of Frank's enemies.

Frank also worries you might be a little ashamed of him publicly. He thinks it might be harder on you if the world knew you were dating a criminal vigilante. Avengers get lots of press and attention and he'd hate to bring his drama into it and hurt your image and potentially all the good you do in the world even if you don't give a shit about the publicity side of it.

Which means a lot of sneaking around - dates in darkly lit restaurants and such.

Date nights frequently get postponed because you getting called on last minute missions or Frank takes longer hunting down a gang than he was anticipating.

Even if you go weeks without seeing each other because of your busy work lives, the love is always still there and you both do a great job of making up for lost time.

When you give him recaps of your recent missions, he always scoffs and gets worried about your safety and asks you not to go into such dangerous situations but obviously you have to it's your job.

So you at some point have to make a rule that he gets no interference in your work stuff. He can make any request in your civilian life to keep you safe (ie. you can't go out at night without him, etc.) but is not allowed to make any requests about your job.

Until inevitably your work crosses paths with his work because the street level gangs and mob bosses he takes down tend to have ties to bigger things like Hydra and such.

One night you're at a warehouse upstate following a lead on a Hydra weapons facility and bump into Frank who was tracking down a human trafficking ring that was also linked to the same address.

Since he knows you, Bucky and Sam, he agrees to help the Avengers just this one time.

You could never convince him to join up and "go legit" no matter how hard you tried. He liked working alone and with noone giving him orders.

As you raid the warehouse and take down the enemy, he's aghast at seeing you put yourself in harms way so flippantly but you have powers and Shield training, so of course you're fine.

He's never actually seen you in action before and he eventually gets over the fear and is super turned on at seeing you be so bad ass and kick booty.

Yeah, the passionate "I missed you. That was so badass. I was so scared. God I hope we don't get caught." sex you have behind the warehouse as the mission is wrapping up is steamy and animalistic.

Bucky has super soldier hearing so he hears it and figures it out first.

Except Yelena has actually known for months because she's a spy, duh.

Sam is the last to figure it out but isn't surprised, you two are so compatible it seems obvious that you should be together.

[shortpplfedup]

I think it's worth remembering that before all the work shit and the Put shit got in the way, Pat liked Jeng. Like a LOT. He may have tamped that shit down, he may have sat on it, he may have been ignoring it, but it's been leaking out for months now. The way he fundamentally feels about him hasn't changed, in fact it has likely deepened the more he's gotten to know him. That's why Jeng coming out feels like a betrayal to him, feels like Jeng playing with his feelings. Because had he known Jeng was gay, he might not have allowed himself to get in so deep. It was fine to have a hopeless crush on his straight boss, because he'll eventually get over that, he'll have to because it's not possible. It's NOT fine to have a hopeless crush on his very available gay boss and have been obviously flirting with him, because that way lies gossip, nasty looks, a number of uncomfortable conversations with HR and possibly the upending of some parts of his life.

The show actually kind of seeded this with the Nan story near the beginning, when Jeng warned Pat that his closeness to Nan could expose him, was exposing him, to a lot of unflattering remarks, gross assumptions and office gossip. His closeness to Jeng may have gone unremarked upon since they're both men, but if they're both GAY men...oof. Does not bear thinking about what some of those nasty harpies at the office will have to say about that. Pat's coworkers' presence in the story has receded a little bit as Pat and Jeng have been in this bubble that occasionally includes Chot (who is Safe), but the birthday party scene reminds us they haven't gone away.

It's clear that Pat is doing some conscious thinking about how this looks at work because he tells Jeng in the conversation in the garden not to be so solicitous to him at work, in front of others. Basically, it was fine for them to have that obviously friendly relationship when there was no chance of them being linked romantically, but if Jeng is gay (and likes him back which Pat cannot even contemplate), that's a whole nother ball game.

[lavenderchqn]

𝐶𝛨𝛢𝑃𝑇𝛦𝑅 𝟎𝟏𝟎 — SNAPSHOT (1,9K WORDS) 𝑅𝐸𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 — lyney x f!reader smau

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 —

Second year of university should've been everything you thought of it - more studying with human interaction sprinkled throught... What it definitely wasn't supposed to be was an investigation saga where one of your friends goes missing out of nowhere

𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑆𝑂𝐷𝐸

It wasn't long before Lyney messaged again, stating he was ready to drive to campus and pick the girl up whenever she was ready. Luckily for him, [Y/N] had gotten almost all her equipment ready, leaving some last lens cleaning. They agreed to meet near the main campus twenty minutes from those texts. 

In her getting ready, it seems that [Y/N] was making far too much noise for the comfort of Charlotte, who just opened the bedroom door… looking less than awake. 

Her roommate had been napping until now, sleeping off an all-nighter she had the day prior. She had been gathering information for the investigation board. From [Y/N]’s perspective, all she’s been doing was stalking social media in hopes of getting new links. At least there hadn’t been any information about another person going missing.

“Do you know no god, [Y/N]?” Charlotte asks, barely awake at the door of their bedroom. “What on earth is happening for you to be up at such an hour… on a bloody Saturday.” 

“It’s almost 11 AM.” She answers, cleaning the camera’s lens. “I get that you’re passionate about the investigation, but camping your phone till 6 AM isn’t a good idea long-term.” 

Charlotte sighs, trying to gather her thoughts and ground herself. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, [Y/N]” She gets shushed, with a mug of coffee made minutes prior. Almost as if [Y/N] was fully aware her preparations would wake her roommate up. 

With a cup in hand, the pink-haired journalism major is more aware and ready to tackle her friend’s unusual behaviour.

“So…” She looks at [Y/N] with expectance in her eyes. “What's happening for you to be getting your equipment ready on a Saturday of all days?” 

“Lyney asked me to help him with some pictures.” [Y/N] is now back to gathering her things and checking out her outfit. Although she’s simply going out with a friend, making sure she’s comfortable is quite important. 

“Oh, cool!” Charlotte looks a little more awake now. “Just, make sure to be safe alright?” 

Ever since the revelation of people going missing, alongside the Troupe connection, it was obvious that they have both been on edge. Although not directly connected to the organisation, being journalism majors had put a target on their backs as potential victims. After all, nobody would like to have a wannabe detective with social media skills on the trail of figuring shit out. 

“I’ll make sure to text you occasionally. How about that?”

“Fine by me, hope you have fun!” 

By the time you get to the main entrance, Lyney is already there. He’s sitting on a bench nearby, earphones in and glasses on. 

[Y/N] quickly jogs over, checking the time to try and gauge how late she is. She’s actually right on time, meaning he had to get here much earlier.

“Hii!” She waves, getting his attention. “Hope you didn’t wait long.” 

“Just got here, no need to worry.” He mutes the music and gathers his bag, before going in the direction of his car.

Now that Lyney is walking in front of her, she gets a good look at what he’s wearing. Compared to his twitter selfies, he’s dressed a lot more casually. Now that she thinks about it, during their board game night last month, his outfit was quite elegant. 

Soon enough they make it to the vehicle, Lyney opening the trunk. 

“Do you need any means of protecting the camera stuff?” He asks, holding out his hand to take your bag.

“Made sure to secure them on the inside, thanks a bunch though.” You give it to him, noticing the delicacy he places it with. Not to mention, that he secures it anyway. 

“Oh please, I should be the one thanking you.” He opens the door to the passenger’s seat, before getting to his own. “Don’t know a singular person who would willingly give up their Saturday like that.”

“You call it giving up my Saturday, I call it spending time with a friend.” You laugh, getting comfortable in your seat. 

Looking back, the car ride definitely takes more than 20 minutes. Luckily, Lyney’s doing everything in his power to make sure the time isn’t getting to [Y/N]. 

After graciously getting your agreement to pick the music, the ride was spent in the accompaniment of Stardew Valley’s soundtrack. Say what you wanna say, but the Dance of Moonlight Jellies never gets old.

They spend the ride talking about random stuff, from video game content to university assignments.

“Like, I’m telling you.” Lyney rolls his eyes mentally. “The second we finish that play, I do not want to hear the term practical project.” 

“Honestly, so fucking same.” She replies. “You’d think it’s just a little course to get your grade up but naaaah… has to hit you with the most obnoxious shit ever.” 

“I’m counting on passing that next week, at least I’ll be able to celebrate without a care in the world until finals’ results are out.” 

“Might as well make it a group celebration. At least someone will be able to hold your hair when you drink too much again.”

“I have a high fucking alcohol tolerance, I’ll have you know!” 

Soon enough you find yourself at the entry point to Mary-Ann National Park. [Y/N] heard of its existence before, and yet never had the chance to go here.

“So, what makes this national park a place you want to get a photo of?” She asks, gathering her bag from the trunk of the car. 

Lyney sighs, before getting his own equipment. 

“It’s a good place to think,” He locks the doors and starts leading up the hills. “I like coming here whenever I’m getting overwhelmed with them. 

It’s weird to even picture Lyney as an overthinker. From his social media presence and people’s statements, it would be hard to predict that. Given a longer thought, it makes sense. [Y/N] might not be a psychology expert, but she’s gotten to know that some people put on masks. 

The silence falls in between them. 

“Did I make it uncomfortable?” Lyney stops abruptly, turning to face his companion. “I’m sorry— forget what I just said…” 

“Oh shush, you didn’t.” She playfully rolls her eyes at him. “It’s good to have a place just to focus on your brain. Good for mental health.” 

Her answer seems to bring Lyney some solace. Even though they could be considered simple acquaintances, it’s good to get validation from other people. 

“Let’s get moving then, we’re almost there.” 

The sight at the top of the hill is breathtaking. Overlooking you can see some ruins of the abandoned buildings of Fontaine’s Research Institute… the mountains and the water surrounding add a calming aura. No wonder this is Lyney’s place of choice.

“Holy shit.” [Y/N] stands, looking at their surroundings in awe. “This place is beautiful.” 

“What can I say,” Lyney’s tone signals he’s feeling less melancholic. “I have the eye for it.” He says, flipping his hair dramatically. 

Behind her back, he’s getting stuff out for a picnic. A blanket is already laid on the grass, and soon some drinks follow. By the time she’s ready to turn around everything is set.

“Oh wow…” [Y/N] laughs, taking a plastic cup that he’s holding out to her. “Whoever becomes your partner will be the luckiest one on this planet.” 

He lets out a tiny laugh, tilting his head slightly. “I guess they’d have to get through Furu and Wriothesley first, don’t know many people who’d survive that.”

“Please… Furina is one of the nicer people I know.” She frowns. “How would she feel knowing you’re talking about her like that.”

He starts to ponder. “She’s so nice that she’d let it go immediately. Would probably stay up all night overthinking and trying to gauge if what I’m saying is true.”

He gets a flick on the forehead for a comment like that. “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t talk about her like that.”   

All of a sudden, [Y/N] remembers the promise she’d made to Charlotte earlier today. She sends a quick message, followed by a pic of the landscape. All that’s left is for it to go through. 

Multiple hours pass, Lyney and [Y/N] spending them reminiscing as well as some random blabbering. The sun is starting to set slowly, a yellowish hue overtaking the sky.

“Thanks so much, [Y/N]” He says, laying on the blanket. He gets answered with a confused hum. 

“What for?” She takes a look at him, trying to guess based on his expression. “I haven’t taken your pictures yet.” 

“Existing, I guess?” 

Now she’s confused. This entire trip feels like a date, despite not a single mention of it being that from Lyney. 

Speaking of Lyney, he picks up on the silence his friend is giving him.

“For being Lynette’s friend.” He sits up, his eyes turned to the sky. “This entire thing was orchestrated to thank you.” 

“That’s a lot of planning to just say thanks.” She chuckles. 

He now has put himself into a position, where explanations are in order. 

“When we both got into uni, I was worried that Lynnette would eventually be left alone,” Lyney starts speaking out loud. “Ever since birth, we’ve been attached at the hip… I was worried how this change would make her feel.” 

[Y/N] hums, letting him know that she’s listening. 

“I— I just feel so relieved, that she has other people that enjoy her company.” His voice trembles a little, if you pay attention, he’s doing his best not to start sobbing right this second.

“Holy, don’t cry!” She wants to put her arm around him to offer some comfort. That, however, requires his verbal confirmation. [Y/N] settles for a gentle push, so that his body is leaning against her’s. 

“I’m so glad, that Lynette showed up that day at the club. Hell, I’m happy that I got convinced by Charlotte to go” 

“I don’t even know why I’m crying…!” His emotions are all over the place. “I think those are happy tears?” 

Soon enough, with some deep breaths, Lyney manages to settle down. His eyes are as red, as his sleeves are wet. Whatever [Y/N] babbled about worked well enough to calm him down. 

“By the way… Do you still want the picture?” She asks, looking at her bag with camera equipment. “Since we’re already here, might as well take one?”

“You’re so right!” 

The sunset’s pinky hue is perfect. No matter how many times Lyney had come here to just chill out, this place still retained its beauty. With immaculate placement, the photo comes out even better than imaginable. 

“What do you think?” She shows Lyney her creation. When he hears a gasp, she knows, she did a damn good job. 

“Couldn’t have taken a better one myself!” 

“By the way Lyney… Why settle for this method of saying thanks.” [Y/N] asks on the way back. 

“Well, Wriothesley was no help… and Neuvillette didn’t even understand what the whole ordeal was for. Don’t worry, if we’re gonna hold a party to celebrate once finals are over you’re gonna meet both of their insufferable selves.” 

“So… That leaves Furina?” It's the only possible choice, via a process of elimination. “Explains the dramatics.” 

“The only soldier that was willing to help me out…” Lyney sulks, getting into the car. “Truly my ride or die in this mess.” 

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — OPEN

@state-of-grac3 @santaluna @meigalaxy @romyoia

@meurtreofcrows @charles-braindump @floweringanna @moonjellyfishie @vavrin

date of posting — august 17th 2024

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away Chapter 16

Reaching an Understanding

1.6k words

Link to Masterpost

For a while after their talk, Wren kept their distance from Trevor. But despite his request to be left alone, Wren found themselves watching him every chance they got. They weren’t entirely sure why.

As poor as it was, they’d already tried apologizing. Maybe they still felt guilty, like they owed him something. Or maybe they were still holding on to the hope that the two of them could find some common ground.

One thing they noticed in their observations was how paranoid Trevor seemed. His eyes were constantly scanning any room he was in, almost as if he was expecting someone to jump out and attack him. Occasionally his eyes would meet theirs and narrow in suspicion. After watching them for a moment, though, he’d move on, apparently satisfied with their non-action.

It also struck Wren as odd how cautiously he acted. Sometimes they’d see him reach out his hand to open a door or move a chair, then stop halfway. He’d retract his hand and try to move the obstacle some other way, or if there was no alternative, give up entirely. Wren couldn’t wrap their head around it.

Then one day, they got an idea as to why he acted that way. Wren watched from across the rec room as he tried to scribble something on a piece of paper. They weren’t allowed to use things like pencils or pens without supervision, so he wrote with a marker instead. It was closer to the size of a large sewing needle in his hand.

He was hunched over the table he sat at, all of his focus on the task at hand. His brows were knit in concentration. He held the paper down with his finger and his thumb and carefully pressed the marker to the page. His movements were painfully slow as he scrawled a few letters on the page.

All of a sudden, the casing of the marker cracked in his fingers. He looked at the broken marker with agitation, but not a hint of surprise.

No wonder he’s so afraid to touch things, Wren realized. Everything must seem so fragile to him.

They watched for a little while longer as he attempted to continue writing with the lower half of the marker. He didn’t seem to be making any progress. Making up their mind to lend him a hand, they snatched a marker from the bin and made their way over to the table in the corner where he sat alone.

He was too engrossed in the task at hand to notice them approaching. Wren cleared their throat to make their presence known. Trevor jolted slightly, then slapped his hand over the paper he’d been writing on. His hand covered it completely.

He gave them an irritated look. “I thought I told you to leave me alone,” he grumbled.

“I know, I know. I just thought you might want a little bit of help.” They wiggled the marker in their fingers.

“I can handle it just fine on my own, thanks,” he said coldly.

Wren looked pointedly at the broken marker in his hands, then back to him. “You sure?”

“That’s not—” he stuttered. “That was an accident. Besides, it still works. Kind of.”

“Does it though?”

Trevor rolled his eyes, then set the marker down. When he met their eyes again, his gaze was hard.

“What do you want from me?”

“Huh?” Wren replied, thrown by the sudden shift.

“You really think I haven’t noticed you staring at me all the time? I know there’s a reason for it. Spit it out already,” he demanded.

“I just—” Now it was Wren’s turn to lose the ability to speak coherently. Finally, they sighed in defeat and decided to speak honestly.

“Look, I was a real piece of shit to you the first time we met. It wasn’t fair that you got in trouble just because I had something to prove. I just want to make things right, and I thought this would be a good place to start.”

Trevor was silent. Wren couldn’t read the look he was giving them. When he didn’t say anything in response, they continued.

“I…I understand if you still want nothing to do with me. I’ll go.”

They turned to leave, but before they could, Trevor spoke up.

“Wait.”

They turned to face him again, curious.

“It’s not that I don’t want any help, it’s just,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “The letter I’m writing, it’s kind of personal.”

Wren shrugged. “I won’t ask any questions. Just tell me what to write.”

Trevor mulled it over for another moment. “Fine. Here.”

He raised his hand, revealing the letter he’d been writing. Wren pulled up a chair at the other end of the table, since Trevor pretty much occupied the other half by himself. They slid the paper over to themselves.

He’d only managed to write the words “Dear mamá” so far. There was also a large splotch of red ink after, probably from when the marker had broken.

Wren uncapped their own marker with their teeth. “What do you want to say?” they asked, putting their pen to paper.

“Um…” Trevor drummed his fingers on the table in thought. His fingers were also stained with ink.

“Let’s just start with ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it?’”

Wren nodded and wrote that down.

“‘I’m sorry they wouldn’t let you see me these past few weeks,’” he continued. “‘The truth is, it’s not your fault, it’s mine.’”

He waited for Wren to finish copying down what he was saying before he went on. They were starting to realize that his voice wasn’t really what they’d expected. They’d expected someone his size to have a loud, booming voice, but he was actually fairly soft-spoken.

“‘I ended up getting into a fight on one of my first days here, so they,’ uh…” He paused, apparently lost in thought.

“I can’t think of the right phrase. What do you call it when they won’t let people see you in jail?” he asked.

“Visitation privileges?” Wren offered.

“That’s it,” he agreed. “‘so they took away my visitation privileges.’”

He kept talking even as Wren struggled to keep up. “‘I swear I wasn’t trying to, everything just happened so quickly, and I—’”

“Slow down,” Wren complained.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, then paused so they could catch up.

“Ok, keep going,” they said.

“Alright. So, ‘everything just happened so quickly, and I lost control of myself.

“‘Afterwards, I tried to stay out of trouble, but stuff like that kept happening.’”

Wren frowned. It sounded like they weren’t the only one who had gotten into a fight with him.

“‘It really wasn’t my fault,’” he continued. “‘but I probably could’ve handled things better.’”

He was quiet for a moment after that. Wren looked up to see him staring at his left hand, the one covered in red ink.

“Trevor?”

“Huh?” He looked back up at them. “Oh, sorry. Give me a minute to think of what to say next.”

“Right,” he said eventually. “‘So, about the last time we saw each other, on the day I was arrested.

“‘You didn’t really do anything wrong. I was just worried that I—’” He stopped. “Actually, don’t put that.”

“Oh, whoops,” Wren said, putting a line through that last sentence fragment.

“I really don’t want her to see that part. Can we just start over on a new piece of paper?”

“Hold on,” Wren said. They colored in the part they’d struck a line through, so it was impossible to tell what had been written there.

“There, see? Everything’s fine,” they assured him. Although they were incredibly curious about what he’d been about to say, they’d promised not to ask questions. Maybe if this went well, they’d get a chance to ask him some other time.

“Fine. Just put, ‘I’m not mad at you. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.’”

“Okay…” they wrote that down, then looked at him expectantly.

“This next part’s kind of sappy. Just, don’t say anything about it, please?”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Alright.” Trevor took a deep breath.

“‘I just wanted to say that I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For getting into fights, for losing control of myself, all of it. I never wanted to disappoint you. I’m going to try and be better from now on. I promise you, I’m going to be the kind of son you can be proud of. Love, Trevor.’”

It was quiet for a moment after Wren finished writing that down. They felt the need to say something, even though they’d promised not to.

“It sounds like you care about her a lot,” they said.

“I do. She’s all I’ve got.”

Wren had to wonder what that was like. They hadn’t heard a word from their parents since they’d been arrested. They were closer to their sister, but she hadn’t come to see them at all. Probably for the same reason Trevor hadn’t seen his mom yet either.

“Do you think she’ll notice the handwriting isn’t mine?” Trevor asked

“Uh…here.”

Wren added a line at the end of the letter: PS Sorry if the handwriting looks weird. I had to get someone else to write this for me. The markers here are too small for me to use.

Then they passed the letter back to Trevor for him to look over. He took a minute to read it through. He breathed a laugh when he got to the end.

“Looks good to me,” he told them.

“Cool. I’ll try and find an envelope, then.” Wren stood up and began to walk away.

“Hey, Wren?”

They smiled to themselves. He’d actually remembered their name.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for your help.”

They looked back, quickly hiding the smile on their face.

“Anytime,” they said coolly.

First/Last/Next

[snackugaki]

more AU visdev shenanigans because I have both a problem and am trying to trick myself into doing visdev for my actual  projects

my tmnt au (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt au part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

tmnt au omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

lny visit 1 | 2

AU musings under the cut cuz truly, i have a goddamn problem and most of it is from my brain always go brr

uhhh... hm... Mirage spoilers pmuch right out the gate... probably IDW, and prrrrobably Next Mutation spoilers for the kids who haven’t started/caught up because surprise that’s where I pull from (aside from the 87 cartoon and 90s movies because who doesn’t pull mainly from their childhood turtles)

April being into punk, goth, alt, what have you just makes sense to me

...because she gravitated to the outsider nature of those subcultures since she, herself, didn’t feel like she quite belonged anywhere

which is natural when you’re a drawing made real

(it’s fine, she’s flesh and blood now)

shout out to poly styrene, april loved her

keeping them short kings just like my childhood turtles

Jennika absolutely comments to Donnie if he’s found any good cheese in any walls lately

god i hate plowing through the first couple of passes of a design

alas, the process

Venus ended up being dressed in hanfu since other clothes didn’t fit her quite right; a specific group of old women were ecstatic at breaking out hanfu patterns to use.

Chung I doted on Venus so much, the only thing that kept her from becoming spoiled was when she started taking up cultivation alongside Chung I and his sect

nothing more humbling that carrying 3 buckets of water up a steep mountain side while your sifu hurls mystic blasts at your feet

Venus progressed pretty quickly though; enough to be trusted with plans to circumvent Vam Mi’s return and reconnoiter with the sect’s allies in NYC

(it didn’t work but it’s okay they defeated Vam Mi anyway)

shit now I have to come up with a name for the sect hhhhh

Chung I’s sect is one of ?? who, like the ninja, have a responsibility (among others) to regulate the mortal plane with the less mundane ones

Venus IS training to serve in his role (give or take one of her brothers or sisters being bestowed the responsibility)

hmm... Venus likes keemun tea best if she has the choice, and for soup... oxtail soup and black sesame soup

and because it was fkkn metal in Next Mutation, Venus is primarily a pugilist who occasionally uses her cultivation techniques ; she trains a little with a fan when she gets to weapons training but she prefers the spear (link has blood and some real violent fighting but fuck Fog Hill is fucking siiiiick)

...a nickname Venus gains is ‘the spear fairy’ ‘cuz i’m indulgent :)

the supernatural side of NY was already getting antsy and unruly when Venus arrived so of course she and the boys ended up fighting upon first encounter

The fight happens after hours at a local walk-around market; Raph barges in and Venus fishes around for something that isn’t the requisite staff she was saddled with before setting out (because she knows how to deal some damage with it and she wasn’t about to do that to complete strangers she didn’t know the alignment of)

she ends up using a mannequin; one arm came off so Venus attacked with that and defended with the upper part of the mannequin; Raph was getting outmatched while Mikey and Donnie were laughing in increasing volume

at a certain point Leo tried to intervene but Venus assumed it was a double team, ripped the other arm off the mannequin and defended with both against Raph and Leo; eventually her hood was flipped and they saw she was a turtle so cue Venus using the opportunity to get them both on the ground and about to smash the now armless mannequin torso onto Leo and Raph before Donnie called for a truce

at which point, as is established, Mikey quipped up at the scene, “I call this... ‘Venus de Milo, triumph over dorkus maximuses’”

Leo DID try to address her by her actual name but his not-quite-right tone made her pity him and insisted he just use Mikey’s new nickname

Venus absolutely asked why the boys were running around half naked when she came across them; they didn’t have an answer they just shrugged and let Mikey change the subject with asking if she’s tried NY pizza yet

Venus is ambivalent in the end, she knew humans wore clothes since their bits are just ...like, out there dangling around; the yaoguai around her also dressed and thought they were just adhering to the custom out of simple consideration

Venus eventually gears up like the boys to help hide her mission from the sect trying to resurrect Vam Mi

Leo gives Venus a spare mask of his; it came from a bin of incorrectly dyed masks when he was attempting shibori dye experiments

Mikey was so enthusiastic about it, having only known April at the time he asked if he could try out braiding her mask tails since Leo didn’t bother tailoring it after he botched the dye job

Splinter helps Venus make contact with her sect’s allies ala Rescuers Down Under

NM!Venus canonically knows how to pick locks why not in this AU too

The boys take Venus to the library one night, Donnie pleads for Venus to break into the reference shelves, stoops to fibbing a little that information she might find handy could be in those shelves (they weren’t)

A hilarious exchange happens between April and Venus when Venus cycles through like 3 dialects and 2 languages before finding out April speaks Canto; Venus starts calling April Ah ze, in kind April calls Venus Ah mui

hmm hmmm... still torn between April meeting the boys once as little kids then running into them again when she’s an adult or having her meet them as little kids but connecting a little earlier, 1-2 years from graduating HS

mostly just cuz I wanna have this AU April taking them to GWAR concerts so they can enjoy being out without getting clocked 

Casey and Raph absolutely dressed as the Bash Brothers for a couple of halloweens

I like the idea of Casey thinking of himself as the fifth turtle brother because it’s sweet, thassit AU canon it is done

I feel like Jennika probably ran into April and Casey at separate music venues; befriended Casey first tho

Jennika spent two years in China with Venus, getting her handle on her new turtle body; when she came back she nearly cleaned out 3 thrift stores and basically commandeered a portion of Donnie’s lab for almost a year to tailor clothes for herself

Donnie basically made himself a mini-clothing manufacturing  factory by salvaging and rebuilding embroidery, pattern cutting, and industrial sewing machines

Jennika and Mondo have jam sessions

The brockhampton parody in this AU is northbrockton, Jennika and Mondo are rotational members

Mondo can speak hawaiian pidgin, he speak liddat when he go an talk story with Mikey ova some grinds, Mikey also starts picking it up

 Mondo sometimes refers to Mikey as Braddah Honu

One of the stolen waste/mutagen barrels from That Night rolled and got shunted conveniently to a desolate lot where it leaked for years

Mondo came across it looking for a place for his band to jam without getting interrupted, pop goes the lizard mutation

tl;dr a video of urban explorers stumbling on it got onto Mona’s feed (and I’m smudging her original start as a physicist to a biophysicist) and since she’s a can do sort of girl she goes to check it out herself before reporting it to the proper organizations-- bam, mutant lizard Mona Lisa rip

that same video came across on one of Donnie’s feeds, Raph’n Mikey go to investigate and come upon a distraught lizard Mona Lisa; Mikey uses her assumption they were also originally human to bring her back to the lair and get her calmed down

god it’s so messy, thankfully Splinter, Leo and April are far better at helping Mona come to grips with her mutation, Donnie helps out in setting her up to survive the first couple months of transitioning between her old human life to navigating her mutant one

For me, she’s now Mona Lisa Saperfeld purely for this exact reference link

Raph and Casey also get the occasional treats from the local bodegas, but for running off extortionists and other assorted dipshits with too much time an not enough supervision

Jennika, Mondo, and Mikey are constantly replacing each others’ high scores in Guitar Hero and DDR in Donnie’s arcade

When Donnie, Casey, and Raph are left in the garage for too long... they end up making the weirdest shit (link to a Handy Geng playlist, a dude who makes funky inventions)

[sugafairy]

Naruto Reaction - Seeing Your Natural Hair Pt. 2 (Lee, Choji, Kiba & Neji)

First request in a while! Ngl this was so self-indulgent (hence why its so long jsnsnssk) This is for all my fellow peeps embracing their natural hair!

Link to Pt 1.

Please don’t forget to like/reblog!

Neji

You were spending the night with him. He had insisted. A late night mission led to Konoha 11 checking into a very overbooked hotel. This said mission also left you with a nasty gash on your shoulder, which Sakura had stitched up and promised it wouldn’t scar.

As always, Neji felt responsible for you and wanted to make sure you were okay throughout the night. You were absolutely fine but Neji couldn’t be swayed. He wanted you two to share a room and so you did. It was okay, really. The bed was plush and comfortable and had many pillows that you could sink into.

Neji sat on the edge of the bed looking at you intently and leant forward until he was properly laying down. He propped his head up on his hand, staring at you as you snored softly. Tufts of hair were sticking out of your bun and your edges had fluffed up cutely. He reached out to stroke your head. It was springy and porous and god, you were just beautiful. It was your first night next to him and he wanted to memorise every single coil.

Rock Lee

You were a blooming flower, his blooming flower. He hadn’t seen you in a day and that was a day too long. You typically took a day off for ‘wash day’ - just so you could have enough time for your shampooing, clay mask, conditioner aaand deep conditioner (yes, Lee, those are two different things).

Lee had left Tsunade’s office a little earlier than usual so he thought he’d stop by at your place with some pizza. You opened the door and he blushed. You had a bright pink towel over your shoulders and your wet tresses dangling against it. Your hair was bright blue, your natural colour which complemented your cool, brown skin. “You brought pizza!” You exclaimed, pulling him out of his trance. He chuckled nervously and you grinned up at him and jumped to smooch him on the cheek. He was so smitten.

Choji

You had tasked Choji with helping you take down your braids. To your surprise, he was very excited to help. You sat in between his legs, your back leaning against his knees as his hands hovered above your head working swiftly at each braid. You looked down and chuckled at the pile of braiding hair beside you getting bigger whilst your head began to feel lighter. You sighed, it felt great having someone else take your box braids out for you. Choji’s hands occasionally grazed against your scalp, their warmth almost lulling you to sleep. “Love, your hair is so fluffy!” He gleamed as he bumped the top of your head before twirling a strand around his finger. It bounced back, perfectly in shape. He could feel your shoulders slump and your neck relax before you let out soft snores. He chuckled and nuzzled his face into all of your hair, its floral scent making him sigh.

Kiba

The great Inuzuka (he insists you call him that, nerdy, I know) had promised to teach you how to swim one day and today was indeed, that day. He was wading in the pool, when you eventually strolled out. He was hypnotized by your beauty as you entered the pool. Your corkscrew hair laid delicately against your shoulders. He coughed nervously.

“Right, so we’ll start with getting comfortable with your face being in the water.” You nodded apprehensively.

“Hey, I will be right here with you, okay? Nothing will happen” He said as he put his hand on your shaking shoulder.

You nodded again, took a deep breath and dunked your head down, rather hurriedly. You must’ve panicked, as you spluttered and rushed your head up causing you to stumble against your feet and fall back-first. “Shit!” Kiba exclaimed.

He managed to catch you before you sank backwards. “I’ve got you…” he mumbled, pulling you by your waist, holding you close. He scanned your face. You were no longer breathing heavily and you managed to give him a relaxed smile. Your hair was dripping wet, your curls gently tucked behind your ears. Your hair was much longer when wet, just about under your shoulder blades. He had never seen your natural hair wet before. You looked ethereal. “You look like a mermaid” he breathed out as he cupped the back of your head leaning closer into you.

[pininghermit]

Dare I Desire (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Adrian x Male Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7|

Summary: Plot thiccckens

AN: I am sorry I have been MIA but shit got real and I had to grow up for once. However, things are going back to normal so here is a piece of update. Hopefully yours truly can keep this up. Link for reader's family dynamics.

You lean against a weathered stone, observing the dilapidated castle walls with a critical eye. Adrian stands nearby, arms crossed, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

"You know, Adrian, I have a proposition for you," you begin, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

Adrian arches an eyebrow, his tone laced with suspicion. "And what might that be, Y/N? More of your tricks?"

You chuckle, stepping forward and pointing at the crumbling wall. "Repair these walls with me, brick by brick, and I'll reward you with the second story of our little bargain."

Adrian's lips curl into a sly grin. "Ah, so you're using blackmail now, are you? Clever."

You feign offense, placing a hand over your chest. "Blackmail? No, no, my dear Adrian. Consider it more of an opportunity to learn and be entertained while we work."

Adrian's skepticism lingers, but a flicker of curiosity dances in his eyes. "Fine, I'll play along. But don't think this gets you out of your end of the bargain."

You raise an eyebrow, a challenging glint in your gaze. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. Now, grab a hammer, my dear Dhampir, and let's get to work."

As you begin repairing the castle wall, the banter and bickering ensue. You playfully criticize Adrian's technique, earning a scowl in response. Adrian retaliates with sharp retorts about your lack of physical strength, eliciting an eye roll from you.

"You swing that hammer like a limp noodle, Adrian," you taunt, your voice dripping with mock disappointment.

Adrian shoots you a withering glare. "Better a limp noodle than a delicate vampire with a fear of a little manual labor."

You chuckle, tapping your finger against a sturdy stone you had just placed. "Ah, but Adrian, you underestimate the strength in these immortal bones of mine. Besides, it's not all about brute force, it's finesse and technique."

Adrian rolls his eyes, mimicking your voice with exaggerated flair. "Yes, yes, finesse and technique. I'm sure that's what they'll write on your tombstone."

Your banter continues as you work, your words a blend of playful jests and hidden admiration. The castle walls echo with the clinking of hammers and the occasional burst of laughter.

As the sun dips lower on the horizon, casting an orange glow over your progress, Adrian can't help but notice the transformation of the crumbling wall. Each stone you meticulously place brings new life to the structure, a testament to your joint efforts.

You pause, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. "You know, Adrian, I must admit, you're not as terrible as I initially thought."

Adrian smirks, his voice filled with mock pride. "Well, I am full of surprises. It's not all blood and brooding with me, you know."

You chuckle, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Indeed, my dear Dhampir. There's more to you than meets the eye."

Your bickering subsides for a moment, replaced by a companionable silence. The castle walls stand stronger than before, a testament to your shared determination.

"Now that we've made progress, it's time for the second tale," you announce, your voice filled with anticipation.

Adrian straightens, a hint of eagerness coloring his features. "I suppose I've earned it, haven't I?"

You nod, your smile widening. "Indeed, you have."

You sit across from Adrian, anticipation gleaming in your eyes. "Ah, my dear Adrian, it's time for the second tale of our bargain," you declare, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "But before I delve into it, let me set the stage for you."

Leaning back against a plush velvet cushion, you begin to weave your narrative. "Imagine Asor, the grand vampire kingdom, during an enchanting elven festival. It was a celebration like no other, a convergence of elven cultures, a chance for diplomacy and merriment. As the youngest prince of Asor, I attended the festival as a representative of our kingdom."

You chuckle softly, memories of that eventful night flooding back. "Accompanying me was my elder brother, Saewig. He possessed the air of a skilled hunter, with a captivating charisma and an adventurous spirit that always drew attention. Saewig arrived with the intention of captivating every elleth within sight, yet vanished within seconds of our arrival, leaving me to navigate the festivities alone."

Your voice takes on a softer, more reverent tone as you continue, "Amidst the vibrant revelry, I found yourself drawn to a secluded corner of the festival grounds. A sacred grove stood there, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. It was there that I encountered her – Aria, the radiant priestess of the sun-elves."

You pause, your eyes glinting with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. "Aria was a vision of ethereal beauty, with cascading golden locks that shimmered like the sun's rays. Her eyes held the warmth of a summer's day, and her voice carried a melodic quality that seemed to stir something deep within my soul."

Leaning forward, your gaze locks with Adrian's, and you can't help but notice the subtle similarities between Aria and his mate. "We engaged in conversation, our words dancing between the boundaries of formality and familiarity. There was a subtle tension, an undercurrent of unspoken desire that hung between us, though we dared not act upon it."

Your voice drops to a whisper, your eyes reflecting a mixture of awe and revelation. "It was during that encounter that Aria, with her gentle touch and words of blessing, bestowed something extraordinary upon me. As a priestess of the sun-elves, she possessed the ability to harness the energy of the sun and channel it into others. She blessed me with a profound connection to the sun, allowing me to walk under its rays without suffering its deadly consequences."

Adrian listens intently, a flicker of something indefinable crossing his features. His perspective shifts, observing your tale with a hint of jealousy, though he refrains from voicing it. Deep down, he can't ignore the subtle pang of possessiveness that tightens within him.

You continue, unaware of the emotions swirling within Adrian. "And so, my dearest, that is the tale of Aria and the blessing she bestowed upon me. The bond we formed that night has shaped my existence, making me immune to the sun's lethal touch."

Adrian's brow furrows, his voice tinged with skepticism. "I can't help but question the authenticity of your story, Y/N. A blessing from a sun-elf priestess granting you immunity to the sun? It sounds too convenient, too fantastical to be true."

Your eyes flash with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Oh, Adrian, ever the skeptic. But I assure you, every word I speak holds a grain of truth. These tales are not mere fabrications, but glimpses into the depths of my existence."

Your voices rise, your argument escalating as the tension crackles in the air. The argument ends abruptly as Adrian stands, his frustration evident. "Trust you? How can I trust you when your tales are so fantastical? This bargain of yours, these stories, they're nothing more than a web of lies and half-truths."

Your heart sinks, hurt flickering in your eyes, but you mask it with defiance. "If you're not willing to listen, Adrian, then perhaps you're not as invested in unraveling the truth as you claim. But know this, I'm not fabricating these tales for my own amusement. They hold significance, not only in understanding my past but also completing your bargain. Maybe then we-"

"Do not talk to me of the bargain you made with your lies. Do no speak of it as a truth."

With those words hanging in the air, Adrian storms off, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You watch his retreating figure, your heart heavy with a mix of frustration and longing. You wonder if there's a way to bridge the gap between you, to find the common ground that would lead you to a deeper understanding.

As the silence settles around you, your internal monologue whispers, Was it the similarity to Adrian's hair, your mate's hair, that back then attracted you to Aria? Or is it something more profound, something that binds you together in ways you're only beginning to comprehend? Only time will tell.

Adrian storms away from you, his mind a swirling vortex of conflicting emotions. He wants to deny any connection with you, to brush off the stories as mere fabrications. After all, his past experiences have taught him the consequences of trusting too easily, of forming bonds that ultimately led to betrayal.

Memories of Sumi and Taka, his former companions, haunt him like specters in the night. Their acts of treachery, their ultimate betrayal of their bond, have scarred Adrian deeply. Combined with the weight of the patricide he committed, they create a barrier within him, a fortress against forging new connections.

"I don't need anyone," Adrian mutters to himself, a mantra he repeats like a shield against vulnerability. He convinces himself that his only goal is to solve the riddle, to fulfill his part of the bargain, and then be done with you. That's all he wants.

That night, when you prepare a dinner for him, Adrian hesitates for a moment. His conscience whispers to him, reminding him that there might be more to your bond, more to the story unfolding before them. But he pushes those thoughts aside, refusing to acknowledge the curiosity tugging at his heart.

He ignores you, who sit patiently in the same spot where Adrian was supposed to meet him. Instead, Adrian shifts into his wolf form and escapes into the solitude of the isolated woods. The moon's gentle glow washes over him as he roams freely, his wolf senses heightened, embracing the familiarity and comfort of the wilderness.

Deep down, however, Adrian can't shake off the nagging feeling that he's running away from something, from someone. He suppresses the bubbling jealousy that threatens to surface, burying it beneath layers of denial. He refuses to acknowledge the magnetic pull he feels towards you, fearing that history will repeat itself.

Lost in the wilderness, Adrian's wolf form moves through the silent forest, chasing fleeting shadows and evading the ghosts of his past. The night air whispers secrets, but he remains resolute, determined to keep his heart guarded, to maintain his solitary existence.

Little does he know that destiny has other plans, that the threads of your lives are intricately woven together, and that your paths will inevitably intertwine no matter what.

[michelletsw]

I've got a request

What if Rollo stayed at NRC as punishment?

BUT, here's the catch: since reader's so nice, Rollo gets to eat their cooking. Every. Single. Day.

Warm breakfast in bed or in the kitchen. A homemade bento for lunch. Little snacks and treats here and there. And a filling dinner.

Rollo may be getting punished but he's living the dream of every NRC boy.

got a similar request so I'm going to combine the to here and link them both using this as a part 1, injoy! Wasn't quite sure of what approach to go for this so I made head Canons of how the dorms and rollo react to this

I said I would get a post out before the end of the month for March sorry for being late TwT

Rollo stays in ramshackle

Warnings ⚠️ cursing,

Part 1, part 2

Dorms - - heartslabyel, octavinelle, scarabia

Gn reader, romantic writings

After the whole trying to burn all of the magic students incident rollo flamm was sent to nrc as a form of punishment. He was placed in the ramshackle dorm since he still made a fuss about being in the same dorms as magic users (that and he would probably get his shit rocked if he went anywhere else)

He stayed In a guest room you cleaned up with girm(much to his dismay), trying your best to make it comfortable.

all goes well in ramshackle but what Crowley didn't know was how much of a fuss everyone else was making over the living conditions for rollo.

~Jealousy Jealousy~

Heartslabyel

Riddle

He trys his best to not seem jealous but it comes across anyway whenever the topic gets brought up

Thinks it's very irresponsible of Crowley to not have rollo under someone else's watch but he can only protest

He already didn't like the fact that he was staying with you but when he over heard some of his dorm mate talking about his treatment.. it was almost impossible to hide the very obvious fact

He was jealous and upset

Not just by the fact he's being treated almost like royalty by You but upset at the fact your treating him this way after what he's done!

How can you have such a heart?

It honestly confuses him-

Since rollo is hear as a form of punishment it upsets him that rollos definitely not learning anything from this-

Just the thought of it is enough to upset him

Cater

He's very open about this

He doesn't hide the fact that he's jealous about it but he wont get upset since he doesn't want to step out of place

Definitely doesn't understand why Crowley would put HIM with you??

Wouldn't pomefiore be the best choice for him to learn a lesson more?

He may have been open about how he doesnt like rollo staying with you but when he over heard a few first year talk about his treatment and how unfair it is, our mans gets so jealous

Immediately runs over to heartslabyel to complain to trey

It's so unfair that he's meant to be punished but he's being treated amazing! Hell he even hear that he may have gotten breakfast in bed once, like wth!

Trys not to over step his place around you but it's hard not to be salty when you to are so close together

If he just so happens to be there when you hand rollo a bento box for lunch he gets so jealous and has to walk away before he does something he'll regret

Trey

Frustrated but definitely won't show it

He doesn't see it as his place to be jealous about something like that when you and him aren't even together

Is he upset with Crowley definitely but he's not going to outright say anything

He trys to just mind his own business but sometimes it's difficult when you live with cater

He was working on homework when cater ran in and tells him everything

Oh- he's definitely jealous but he'll just sit there and act like every things fine other then the occasional eye twitch and his eyebrows furrowing

What really threw him off was why

He knew you where a nice person and injoyed helping people but he's done so much to hurt not only you but your friends as well, why are you babying him?

Hates seeing the two of you together but he'll just stand there minding his business having hatred for rollo increase by the second

Ace

Definitely is jealous Definitely doesn't hide it well

It's really obvious to tell that he doesn't like rollo. He won't hide the fact about it either

Will openly say things to you like "why the hell are you babying that asshole?"

These statements give it away immediately that hes jealous

Yes he watches his mouth infront of Rollo but that's only cus he knows you would be mad at him

Already didn't think to highly of the headmaster from seeing everything he makes you do but now?

Oh he thinks Crowleys a complete jerk that just doesn't wanna do his job

(Congrats you now have someone to talk shit about Crowley with)

Him and deuce go to ramshackle alot more then normal now

Hate watching you give him food or snacks or anything

Why can't you baby him?

He's one of your best friends right why don't you treat him like that instead of this prick

Genuinely just confused and upset you make him food and baby him so much

Deuce

Straight confusion and disappointment #1

Why??

He very much doesn't like this guy after him trying to well...Basically kill us both!

Is very jealous but trys really really hard to not let it show so he can keep up a decent appearance

So badly just want to deck this guy but he can't without losing the honor roll status hes trying for

Hates everything about it

Definitely didn't look to highly at Crowley before but now he thinks he's so irresponsible

Definitely trys to hang out at ramshackle more to keep rollo in line but it only get so far before he has to step away or else it's going to start a fight

Already knew that he was getting super babed from how often him and ace are over

Gets really jealous when you hand him lunch you made or if he see you making dinner

octavinelle

Azul

Insert confused and disappointed #2

Jealous little boy

He hates everything about what's happening

Definitely looks down on Crowley for the choice of puting him with you

Thinks there would be better options for places rollo could stay

Hates seeing you hand him snacks in the halls

This dorm is full of jealous idiots but he has his reputation

It takes a lot to keep up his business persona when he sees you handing rollo a bento box

He's jealous but he'll distance himself from the situation not wanting a slip up

If you ever come to the lounge to pick something up or anything he's hiding in his office unless he has to be up front

He will be passive aggressive towards rollo whether it be side comments of side eyes

He cares deeply for you and he hate seeing you stand next to the guy that tried to kill you both

Jade

Everyone in this dorm are jealous bitches but unlike his brother jade has self restraint

Is forced to listen to Floyd's whining already so of course he has to now

Passive-Aggressive is this mf middle name I swear

Because he holds himself in such a manner

Definitely Slightly annoyed from Floyd's actions but he does agree with most of his statements

Won't out right threaten rollo since there's hardly anytime where you to aren't together

But when he speaks with you will give rollo the hardest death stare till he turns back to you with his normal smile

Is definitely jealous when he sees you giving him food or small snacks in-between classes

Everything he's does that involves rollo is so passive aggressive, his hate for rollo is slowly starting to seep through his normal butler like personality

Very much thinks lowly of Crowley for this

Thinks he's incredibly irresponsible and idiotic

Is good at hiding his Jealousy but he might snap eventually

Floyd

Can (and will) try to squeeze him (kill him)

Out of all the jealous mf in octavinelle he's the worst because he won't hide it

He's going to be complaining and whiny the whole time

And his mood swings are going to be way worse

Like he'll be in a bad mood and then see you and will get happy till you fully round the corner and your with HIM- and he upset again

Passive-Aggressive is something he's familiar with but he prefers just normal aggressive

Honestly this mans is one of the main reasons you have to keep next to him out side of ramshackle

Floyd might have been upset earlier but now he's just pissed, he wanted to see you cause azul was being mean or something and making him work more so off to ramshackle he goes

There's something so stomach turning to watch your crush hand some idiot a plate off food thats homemade

Will burst through the door anyway yelling shrimpy, the moment he's leaning on you he's playing the innocent act as he's stare daggers into rollos soul

scarabia

Kalim

He's just sad mostly

He want to spend more time with you! just you, but he's can't if you have to keep rollo in your sites all the time (mainly so he doesn't get killed but-)

Definitely jealous he doesn't like this at all

He may be a sweet little sunshine bean boi but he still goes to a villain school

Has felt jealousy very little times in his life but even with those times its never been this much

Won't get all pouty infront of you or anything but it's hard to keep on his normal sunshine smile with you standing right next to rollo

Everytime he sees you he gets all smiley and giddy till he notices rollo next to you then that same smile becomes very forced

Definitely doesn't understand why Crowley would put him with you instead of pomefiore or heartslabyel

When he catches glimpse of you handing him snacks or sees you giving him a bento box for lunch his stomach turns

He wants you to be happy but he doesn't like that this jerk is making you smile so brightly

Jamil

Literally just sigh

He just sees this as another one of Crowleys responsibilities he dumped on you

Definitely is jealous but won't really show it (bros got years of practice)

Already immediately knew he was going to get baby treatment, I mean come on its you

Has to bite his tongue every time he sees the 2 of you together or you handing him food.

Also has to put up with Kalims whining every time to, making his frustration worse

Alot of side eyes and glares if your anywhere near with him

Get really jealous when he sees you handing rollo any type of snack or meal

But he just stays where he is trying not to pay it mind only to be cursing rollo and Crowley in his head

When ever your not looking tho it's free game for everyone

You go to tie your shoe and there's so many death glares rollos getting from jamil included

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 33 - Warmth

Discoveries are made.

Word Count: ~3k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

Warm light bathed you as you stepped out onto deck, the tropical like weather of the summer island you'd just left still lingering in the air. It was a pleasant change after a series of winter and autumn islands. It'd been nine weeks since the marine base, putting you just past the halfway mark of your pregnancy, your belly now visibly rounded at five months along. Despite taking back your power from Thompson in a metaphorical way, the whole incident had left you rattled and brought up a lot of not great memories and feelings. You'd needed time to recover, mentally and physically, and properly adjust to the idea of being pregnant. It was for that reason that despite how active you'd been before the incident, only Killer had been allowed to touch you since then. You were feeling vulnerable and fragile, and you only wanted to be in the safe, strong arms of your boyfriend, the father of your future child.

Not that you'd been super interested in sex at all for several weeks though, which was fine, Killer was able to alleviate his needs with Kid until you were up to it. He hadn't fucked you hard again when you did give him the go ahead to go the whole way, only giving you all of his affection as he made love to you. You often found yourself just laying quietly together, one arm around your waist and one hand on your swollen belly. It was just as well you'd been a little emotionally clocked out because you were also feeling like shit. Your tits ached, you were hungry all the fucking time, and you kept getting headaches and heartburn. Killer was doing his best to look after you, as was Heat. If one wasn't near you, the other was. Kid tried, but he had no real idea how to help you, so the best you got was him putting extra food on your plate, which to be fair was pretty generous by his standards, and the occasional random care package of medication and bubble bath. It was the thought that counts, and you appreciated his quiet support anyway.

Heat had long since been your best friend on the ship, you'd always been able to go to him for anything, but ever since the Quincy-dent he'd been… different. It was like he needed to be physically tethered to you at times if Killer wasn't already wrapped around you. Even then, he'd find a way. It was small things, his shoulder against yours, his hand brushing against your hand, sometimes a linked pinky, his knee pressed against your leg at the dinner table. You often caught him watching you as well, a forlorn expression on his face. You chalked it up to him trying to finish what you'd started before the Quincy-dent, but you didn't mind it. You'd always felt safe with Heat, and he never tried to pressure you into anything. It was harmless, and he was still there for you emotionally whenever you needed him. He often stayed with you when Killer was on night watch, just keeping you company and keeping you warm, but he never took it further.

You started feeling like you wanted him to though. The sly glances you'd catch him stealing were starting to make you feel something, probably just arousal, maybe it was time to let him get what he was angling for. You'd certainly feel less guilty about it that way, not that it was your only driving force. You wanted him, more each day, the little touches sending electric sparks through your skin. You'd talk to Killer about it later, definitely, for now you were preoccupied with the fluttering in your abdomen. A few days ago you'd started to feel it, and when you checked on baby you'd come to realise that the fluttering matched with their movements. You could feel them kicking inside you, alive and well and healthy, waiting to join the world in four short months. Today was the exact day you hit twenty weeks, if you worked under the assumption that you'd gotten pregnant from the first time you slept with Killer. It was all quite miraculous really, Mohawk said you must have only ovulated once after joining the crew, and it must have just happened to have lined up with the island. It felt a little bit fated when he put it like that.

You found Killer working on breakfast, nuzzling your head against him. You weren't wearing your mask all the time at the moment, with the frequent headaches it was an extra pressure you often couldn't bare. The crew knew at this point to not be too loud around you if you weren't wearing it. Killer felt the lack of mask and sighed as he put down his cooking tool and turned to wrap his arms around you, putting a warm soothing hand on your forehead.

“Again, princess?” He said sadly.

“Yeah, it's not too bad today though,” you replied, pressing your face into his hand, “I just took meds, I'll probably be okay soon”

“Okay sweetheart,” he stroked your face, “but let me know if there's anything I can do okay?”

“There was something I wanted to talk to you about actually,” you hummed, turning yourself so you could rest your back against his torso and he could put his hands over your round belly. “You're on night watch tonight right?”

“Yeah, why's that?” He asked, “You thinking about going further with Heat?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with it,” you put your hands over his and stroked the back of them with your thumbs.

“As long as you feel ready, I'm not gonna stop you,” he rested his chin on your shoulder, “he has been a little clingy huh?”

“I don't mind it though,” you hummed, “it's nice to know he still wants me even when I'm half whale”

Killer snorted and rubbed your belly lovingly. “I happen to think you look incredibly sexy right now, not to mention how much bigger your tits are”

“Do NOT touch them,” you warned, “I feel like someone is using them as punching bags in my sleep.” Killer huffed out a laugh and let you go to return to the breakfast prep.

“I pinky promise I won't grab your wonderful lovely tits, even though I very much want to,” he smiled under his mask and you could hear the smile in his voice. You smacked his chest playfully and stole a strip of bacon before heading out to take a seat for breakfast. Kid tried to steal your bacon as you sat and you very nearly bit his hand off, you'd become somewhat territorial of food the last few weeks. Snapping your teeth at him was enough for him to get the warning, more than one person had bite marks from you right now.

You leaned back in your chair and finished your bacon, flipping your bracelet to take a little peek at baby. You let out a little gasp and quickly turned your bracelet back, flushing a little as Kid raised a non existent brow at you.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

“Uh, no, perfectly healthy,” you stuttered, “just uh… saw something”

“The hell did you see to make you react like that?” Kid said curiously, glancing at your belly.

“Um.. a penis,” you replied.

“No fucking way!” He laughed, “Does Kil know?”

“Considering that was the first time I've seen it, no, he definitely does not,” you grabbed his ear and tugged on it, “and you're not gonna be the one to tell him, you hear me?”

You let go and he rubbed his sore ear. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, “you're fucking mean while you're knocked up”

“Say that again and I'll make sure to be meaner,” you huffed. He made a motion to show he was zipping his mouth shut.

“You know, I always thought Kil would have a girl,” Kid hummed.

“Me too, actually,” you replied, “I'm kinda surprised. Not that I'm upset about it. Just surprised.”

“Guess we can both cross psychic off our list of future potential careers,” he smiled. You snorted.

“Like you'd be any good at that,” you laughed, “you'd smash the crystal ball the second it didn't show what you wanted”

“You're not wrong,” he huffed as the others started to file in. Much to your shock, Kid was able to keep his mouth shut about the baby for the entirety of breakfast, though he did give Killer a proud smack on the back as he got up to leave which confused Killer immensely since all he'd done was cook a standard breakfast.

“What was that about?” Wire asked.

“No fucking idea,” Killer replied.

“I might have an idea,” you smiled awkwardly. There was no way you were holding in this secret any longer, if you did Kid would no doubt spill it anyway. The others looked at you expectantly. “I may or may not have seen something when I was taking a peek at baby”

“Are they okay?” Killer asked, concerned.

“Yeah, he's doing great,” you grinned. The others took a second to catch on.

“HE?” Wire finally yelled. The penny dropped and Killer stood suddenly.

“It's a boy?!” He exclaimed, he was clearly visibly excited, despite not being able to see his face.

“Sure is,” you laughed. The boys whooped and gave Killer playful shoves, and you took advantage of the situation to steal as much bacon from their plates as you could. Losers weepers buddies, mama needs that meat.

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when a knock came at the door. The rest of the day had passed without much note, other than being ambushed by the crew when they all found out you were having a boy. You could take a guess who was on the other side of the door, since Killer had left maybe ten minutes ago for the night watch. You opened the door for the resident fire breather and he gave you a warm smile. He wore only slippers and sweatpants, ready for bed. “Want company tonight?”

“Yeah, I do actually,” you took his hand and pulled him inside, “thanks for always staying when Kil is busy, I appreciate it Heat, I really do.”

“Anything to make you feel safer,” he replied with a shrug, kicking off his slippers and climbing into bed on Killer’s side. You took your prenatal meds with the glass in the bathroom and slipped into bed beside him, already in your pyjamas. You couldn’t fit any of your satin slips these days, so you usually just wore panties and one of Killer’s old shirts.

You cuddled into his arms immediately, tucking your head under his while his arms wrapped around you. You pulled one of his thighs to trap it between yours, stealing as much of his warmth as possible. It was something you'd craved the last few weeks, you couldn't get enough of his warmth. Killer was warm too but Heat was warm. His temperature always felt like it could melt away your aches and pains.

“You know I care about you, right Heat?” You mumbled against his chest.

“Of course,” he replied, “did something happen?”

“I just feel like I've been neglecting you is all,” you huffed, your hot breath making warm puffs against his bare chest. You sat back a little and ran your hand up the center of his muscular chest. “I haven't been taking good care of you,” you purred, “I wanna look after you, you've always taken such good care of me”

Heat made a small whimper as your hand ran back down, breezing over the waistband of his pants and over the tent in his pants. You palmed him through the soft fabric while your other hand found his cheek, urging him to bring his face closer so you could kiss him. You felt a spark of something intangible and he was on you like a predator, kissing you hard and running his hands up your sides, your back pushed against the mattress and his clothed cock rutting against your panties. His tongue pressed hard against yours, small strings of saliva connecting your mouths whenever he pulled away only to dive back in at a new angle.

One hand fisting his hair, your other pushed down the waistband of his pants till his cock was free, immediately going to work on stroking it the way he'd taught you. He grunted as you took hold of him, and you used the momentary distraction to push him back flat, climbing on top of him and straddling his thighs. You leaned down and sucked on his neck as you stroked him, kissing your way down his center and making marks on his muscles with nips and sucks till you were nosing at his blue pubes, making kitten licks on his pierced cock that drove him wild.

He let out a low whine when you finally took him in your mouth, god he'd missed your hot wet mouth. You took him as far as you could, getting a little lower with every bob of your head as your throat relaxed and you breathed through your nose, till finally you took all of him and he pulled hard on your hair, groaning and bucking up into you. You moaned in encouragement and he ran both hands through your hair to hold you firmly while he thrusted up into you, his head thrown back as he used you before pulling you off and bending to meet you, his tongue diving into your mouth with a groan. He kept you held firmly while he kissed along your jaw and neck, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes as he took a breast in his mouth. You whined, they were so sensitive and sore but you wanted him to enjoy himself. His eyes went wide all of a sudden and he pulled away, licking his lips.

“I… you… there's milk,” he said, it felt like a question. He squeezed the other breast gently and a small dribble of white collected at the tip and ran down his hand, and he licked it up with fascination.

“The baby books said this could happen any time but I guess I never noticed,” you hummed. There was barely any milk to be had, no more than what would fit on a penny, but he sucked on both breasts till he was sure he'd collected every small drop, and it made strange waves of euphoria rush through you. You'd read about that too, nature's way of encouraging breastfeeding by making it pleasurable. Heat was clearly enjoying himself too, his eyes practically rolled back in his head while his hand worked its way under your panties and played with your slick center. If you didn't know any better you'd think the man had a breastfeeding kink. By the time he was done suckling on you, you were practically fucking yourself on his fingers, and you whined as he curled them and ripped a orgasm from you.

He pulled his fingers from you and licked the slick from them, then he laid you on your back, lavishing your body with kisses as he removed all of your clothing, followed by his pants. Naked and bare to each other he kissed you with a fire you'd never felt from him, his tip prodding your entrance while he made soft moans in your mouth. You shuddered as he finally slid inside you, your arms and legs wrapping around him as he started a languid pace, his mouth still connected to yours, swallowing every little sound you fed him. He was breathing heavily as he pulled away, though you wouldn't let him go far, intent on staring into his dark eyes as he fucked you. His heavy cock dragging against your walls made you whine with every thrust, and he took one of your hands and held it next to your head. Something felt different about this time, it felt more like making love than two friends fooling around, and everything started to click into place as you looked into his eyes and saw just how much adoration was there. How had you missed it? The touches, the way he watched you, the way he needed to be with you whenever he could. Oh god, Heat loved you. But even knowing that, you couldn't find it in yourself to stop him, even though it felt like betraying Killer. Somewhere under the girlish butterflies he gave you, you felt like maybe you loved him too. This felt nothing like when he was just a friend teaching you how to feel good, he felt like a lover, and you squeezed his hand tight as the realisation shook through you and you came around his cock calling his name. His name on your sweet tongue was all he needed to fall past his edge, and he cried out for you as he painted your walls, his hand firmly in yours while he panted against your shoulder and filled you with his seed.

He didn't want to pull out, for fear he'd never feel what it was like to be inside you ever again. He knew you'd figure him out at some point, and you'd push him away, because how could you ever love him back? You were too sweet to drag him along like that, he knew once you realised he loved you that you'd stop letting him touch you, you wouldn't betray Killer, it was different if love was involved. He didn't know, or expect, that you would love him too. For now he took solace in what he could get, pulling you with him as he laid on his side, his softening cock still buried inside you, your thigh draped over him and your arms tight around his shoulders.

For now he could pretend, trick himself into thinking that you were his woman and it was his baby inside you, that you loved him the way he loved you. Watching the pain on your face when your heart stopped after the Quincy-dent was a turning point, the spark that made him realise he couldn't survive without you, that he wanted to be more to you that just a confidant and fuck buddy. He wanted all of you, even if that meant sharing, but Killer had been clear in his intentions. As long as you came home to Killer he didn't care who you fucked, which meant you could never come home to Heat. He tried not to cry at the thought that he'd never have you like that, he'd take what scraps he could get for now until you realised the extent of his feelings and rejected him, it was all he could do.

A/N: Thanks for the patience uploading the tumblr version of this, the app was really killing me and then it ate my draft and posted the chapter with half the fic missing :P Hope yall enjoyed the fluff the last few chapters cos next chapter is right back to the angst fuckery :)

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[missin-you-already]

Resident Evil Fic Masterlist

I've been meaning to get around to this. Gonna start posting new fics on here for the hell of it, but also gonna put drafts + the Ao3 links since that's the main place I post at.

[Rain x Alice] – Pre-Extinction (2k) – With the Desert Heat – Since the start of the end, things have not been going Alice's way. It's not that she thinks anybody else who survived has it much better. Or that there isn't a part of her that thinks she deserves it.

[J.D. & Rain + Rain x Alice] – Post-Resident Evil (2k) – Turning, Turning – Is getting a peaceful night of shuteye seriously too much to ask for?

[Bad Rain x Bad Alice] – Pre-Retribution (<1k) – I've Leave With You (Someday Soon) – Rain often finds herself thinking about the world outside the walls of Umbrella Prime.

[J.D. & Rain] – Resident Evil (>1k) – Right Between the Eyes; Over the Shoulder – All she can hear is his agonizing screams, the pleading repetition of her name as his hand slipped out of hers.

[Rain x Alice] – Retribution (3k) – Where've You Been? – It seems a lot of time has passed since that nightmarish night in the Hive, which feels like only yesterday to Rain. What the hell is going on?

[Alice & Kaplan & Rain & Matt] – Afterlife (3k) – Unexpected Reunion – After one hundred and twenty-seven days with no signs of life, Alice finally came across something of interest.

[Rain x Alice] – Post-Resident Evil (<1k) – Glad You're Here – Sleep is never something that Alice looks forward to.

[Bad Rain x Alice] – Post-The Final Chapter (>5k) – You and Her (Me?) – Rain doesn't understand Alice. She doesn't understand any of this shit.

[Rain x Alice + J.D. & Rain] – Pre-Resident Evil (>2k) – Remember Us – Rain already knew Alice's name before the whole shitshow began. Alice knew hers. Both of them were quite familiar with each other, actually. Well. More than familiar. They were close. They had something. Not that anyone would know.

[Rain x Alice] – The Final Chapter (<1k) – Before I Go – It's been nearly a decade, and I still find myself thinking of you. Maybe in another life, fate was kinder to us. Maybe things didn't start and end here for both of us.

[Good Rain x Suburban Alice + Good Rain x Alice + Good Rain & Becky & Suburban Alice + Alice & Becky] – Retribution (>5k) – For You, Anything – Rain feared that her wife and daughter had died in the midst of all this chaos. Thankfully, that's not the case. They're perfectly fine ...In fact, it seems Alice has even had the time to change her hair and clothes, find three burly guys with weapons, and grab some guns...

[Rain x Alice] – Resident Evil (1k) – Still a Chance – There is still a chance. The Red Queen wouldn't say it. She "didn't deal in chance", after all. But that didn't mean there wasn't one. Kaplan fried her, they seem to have lost the monster that killed Alice's asshole ex-boyfriend, and now they just need to get to the train and get the antivirus in time. Whether or not the antivirus would work at this point is up to debate, but overall, chances aren't looking too bad. That's what Alice keeps saying. Rain wishes she could believe her.

[Rain x Alice] – Extinction (>1k) – At the End of the World, I'll Stick By Your Side – Alice has been on her own for years now. She felt it was a necessity. That doesn't mean she isn't a little sick of it, though. More than a little.

[Rain x Alice + Good Rain x Alice + Bad Rain x Alice] – Retribution (2k) – It's Like You Never Left Me – Alice is no stranger to danger. At this point, she comes close to dying on an almost daily basis. Some brushes are closer than others; occasionally, it's less of a "close brush" because she does die. She's used to it, though. That's not the hard part anymore. "Just when I think there's no more shit left to hit the fan... you always find your way back here." It's coming back. "It's not so bad. I get to see you again."

In Progress...

[Rain x Alice] – Retribution (4k+) – Day In and Day Out – It was long ago that Rain lost hope. Spending day in and day out being forced to work for the same scumbags that started the whole mess with the virus, having to constantly look at the faces of people you've lost in the form of clones, having zero control over your body but a clear view of what you're doing... It's hell.

[Gen + Rain x Alice + Past J.D. & Rain + Past Spence x Alice] – Resident Evil, Apocalypse, post-Apocalypse (48k+) – Burning Up – Something wasn't right. If Rain had finally turned, if she was dead, then why was she still aware? Why could she see herself trying to dig her teeth into Matt's neck, desperate to tear open the flesh?

Pending drafts...

This is partially for me to get poked about finishing shit, and partially for me to actually keep track of my fic ideas because my past attempts haven't worked :^)

[Claire x Alice] – Afterlife – When those crows pop out of the plane and scare Alice before Feral!Claire jumps her, instead of that happening, Alice finds Claire mutated into an avian monstrosity that tries to attack her.

[Jill x Rain] – Retribution – Bad Rain is just OG Rain controlled by a Scarab like Jill. They both break free of the Red Queen's control and escape Umbrella Prime together (in a gay way).

[Gen] – Apocalypse – Matt and Rain and Kaplan mutate into mysterious monsters that stalk Alice in RC.

[Claire x Alice x Rain] – Extinction – Rain already joined the convoy and started dating Claire before Alice shows up. She's still into Alice, though, and Claire quickly catches on, which eventually leads to her also catching feelings for Alice.

[Rain x Alice] – Resident Evil – Time travel bullshit. So like, at the end of Apocalypse where Alice straight up dies? She wakes back up during the first film when that tank explodes, knocking her and Matt to the floor. She remembers the destruction of RC, remembers everybody dying or turning and has a chance to try and change how things end.

[Rain x Alice] – Extinction – Rain's DNA ends up being what creates the Super Undead. When Alice goes down to find Isaacs, she finds Rain imprisoned in a glass cage in a semi-zombified state.

[Bad Rain x Alice] – Retribution (kinda) – Alice gets captured by Umbrella. Rain is in charge of transporting her and they end up bonding during the long journey, resulting in Rain refusing to hand Alice over like she's meant to.

[Party Dress Rain x Alice] – Retribution – "Party Dress Rain" is the third Rain clone that didn't end up in the final cut. When she runs up on Alice and Ada, she's not a zombie, she's still alive... but infected.

[Bad Rain x Alice + Good Rain x Alice] – Post The Final Chapter – Basically just the Rain clones giving each other death glares while they both hold Alice 'cause they fucking hate each other lmao.

[Good Rain x Alice + Good Rain & Becky] – Post-Retribution – Alice's attempt to save Becky and Rain takes a little too long. They end up separated from the strike team and miss the choppers, leaving them to get out of Kamchatka on their own.

[Rain(?) & Alice & Becky] – Retribution – Y'know that room full of racks of clones? When the Uber Licker shows up again, one of the Rain clones unknowingly gets knocked down. Without any of the memory imprints or programming Umbrella would typically give a clone, the Rain just kinda starts following them around and Alice... doesn't know what to do.

[Gen] – Resident Evil – EXTRA bad ending where the case with the virus/antivirus falls through the doors with the burning licker, and none of them make it to the doors before they seal.

[Rain x Alice] – AU – They're all motorcycle street racers and Alice is the mysterious, talented new chick who starts getting Rain all worked up and extra competitive. That's it.

[ponett]

I saw in your FFXVI review that you'd played Tears of the Kingdom. What were your thoughts on Zelda's role in the game and story?

it was okay. i'll put this below a read more for spoilers. this will also talk more about the stories in general, because i feel like i can't say much about zelda's storylines without doing that

generally, i think i liked the execution a little better than how botw told its story. i loved botw, but it felt like the entire story was already 99% finished by the time link woke up. i didn't feel like i was developing a relationship to those characters as the player, i felt like i was being told about things that just kind of happened around link 100 years before i took control of him - things that he barely reacts to because of how little this version of link emotes in cutscenes. zelda was pretty fun at times, but her arc is really just "she's under immense pressure from her father to live up to her destiny as the reincarnation of hylia and save everyone... and then she does it, the end"

so i preferred the execution in totk, where it felt more like link and zelda had parallel adventures occurring in the present and the ancient past. zelda sets up a lot of things for you in the past, but you also have all the stories of the sages. they're not amazing or anything, but like, those are characters that YOU, the player, met and helped as part of YOUR adventures in the previous game, and now you'll continue to work alongside them and help them save their home regions. those storylines are built upon YOUR actions as the player, making you an active participant, as opposed to being told about link's relationships with the champions. and because link is completely absent from zelda's storyline, you're on the same page as him as you piece together what zelda was up to on her own, so i found that more engaging

the actual content of zelda's storyline in totk is, like... fine. she admittedly feels like kind of a passive observer for a lot of it, a mere point of view character for us to see what rauru was doing, until she finally has the idea to become a dragon and repair the master sword. but i thought that was a cool narrative move. that sacrifice feels like more of an interesting act of agency on her part than her living up to her father's expectations in botw

of course, yes, in the end zelda has to turn back to normal. she can't stay a dragon. it's cheap, but i dunno. did we really expect anything different? to me the only part that REALLY feels like a cop out is the fact that the tens of thousands of years she spent as a dragon are written off as feeling "like a dream" to her, rather than leaning into zelda waiting so many millennia to reunite with link. embrace that drama! but, like. it's a zelda game. they were always going to give us that happy ending where link and zelda are reunited and everything's back to normal

i think the thing to me is that, like. at this point in my life, at the ripe old age of 29, i accept that the stories in most zelda games are nothing to write home about. games like link's awakening and majora's mask are the exception, not the rule. zelda games have fun worlds and characters, they have occasional moments of brilliance, but they're straightforward hero's journey stories made to support the gameplay first and foremost. and most of the 3d zelda games at this point have some sort of ass pull in the final act - shit like zant being pushed aside for you to fight ganondorf, or tetra getting whitewashed and turned into a completely different character the second they reveal she's a zelda

i go to other games when i want a really nuanced, emotional story with a bittersweet ending. i'm not waiting up for zelda writing to blow me away like that, in the same way that i'm just playing other games with female protagonists instead of waiting up for them to make a game where you play as zelda

[tirsynni]

I have another question! (Sorry if this is a

weird ask). I read a lot of your LoZ fics and love how you write the different pairings. I was wondering your thoughts on Sidon x Link? I haven't really seen any long fics with them and was wondering if that could be a possibility? Unless it's just not your cup of tea. Thanks again! <3

This is absolutely not a weird ask. lol No worries.

I enjoy Sidon/Link and I've written for them before. Hell, Sidon really comes as an oblivious guy with an insane crush in TotK. Like, chill, man. rofl It's incredibly easy to imagine everyone in Zora's Domain thinking that Sidon and Link actually had something going on (with Yona's full and enthusiastic support).

Overall, an enjoyable but possibly too-sweet ship? A little too easy? Not the right type of tension for me? Ironically, Sidon's enthusiastic adoration of Link, which is a great reason for their ship, is a turnoff to me actually shipping them. I love some snark, conflict, tension, etc.

TotK (and Yona) helpfully point out some things which could lead to some fractures in their outwardly idyllic relationship. Mainly, Sidon doesn't like conflict. He really, really doesn't. He does his best to be happy and to cheer others up. He avoids conflict and things which could lead to conflict. He smiles brightly and sparkles and is bright and extravagant and wants to pay attention to the happy and positive stuff, not on conflict and potential loss.

Link in turn is the type of guy who doesn't deal with that crap. Not "doesn't put up with it" like Yona. He doesn't deal with it. At all. Sidon avoids his responsibilities? Fine, whatever. Link will handle it. No conversation. No fuss. No making Sidon actually deal with the issues at hand like Yona forced him to do. There's no indication that it even occurs to Link to try to open Sidon's eyes. That's not how Link works. If there's an issue, Link doesn't bitch. Hell, it can be argued that he barely plans. He just handles it. One of the themes in TotK is that Link isn't alone, but when you get right down to it, Link would have done the whole thing alone without complaint or objection or even really asking for help. Zelda asked for him. People volunteered. People literally threw themselves into battles where he had otherwise been fighting alone.

There's a running gag in BotW and TotK that no one recognizes Link as the Hero and Champion. It's even funnier in TotK because he has spent so long saving and helping people and acting as Princess Zelda's Knight. As funny as it is, though, I would argue that there's a good reason for it: when Link is acting as Zelda's Knight, he plays the proper role and wears the highly visible Champion Blue, similar to Tony Hawk needing his skateboard to be recognized. Otherwise, he's just Link: the guy who wanders off and happens to come back to the stable riding a buck. The weird, quiet, but helpful guy who occasionally needs to scrub the cooking pot before anyone else can use it. Link and the Champion are as different as Clark Kent and Superman. Link doesn't really like to stand out. He doesn't like to draw attention to things. If there's a problem, he just quietly fixes it instead of pointing out that someone else really, really needs to handle their own shit.

On that note, it's Link being the Hero of the Wild and Champion which makes Link safe to Sidon, almost naively so. It's possible that Sidon's struggle with conflict stems from the traumatic loss of his sister at a young age. He avoids Yona in TotK because he is struggling with the fear of losing her like he lost Mipha and, again, can't deal with conflict. He hides instead and insists that he's performing another important duty. Unlike Mipha, Link came back. He literally came back from the dead, avenged Mipha, and defeated the Calamity. I think it's telling that, of all the moments to commemorate, Sidon chose when Link was being a powerful warrior with Sidon, proving his strength, proving that he was with Sidon and wasn't going to be easily defeated by the thing which took Mipha away from him. Again, pretty damned naive and feeds well into Sidon's deliberate and energetic optimism. The beginning of TotK proved how easily Link could fall. It doesn't matter. While Sidon is clearly fretting over Yona and about possibly losing her in TotK, he doesn't fret over Link like that. Link has proven that he's safe. That conflict that he has with Yona doesn't exist with Link, even if it possibly should.

So you have two guys who handle conflict in really unhelpfully opposing ways. There's the bonus that Sidon would probably tell himself that everything was great, there was no conflict at all, and Link probably wouldn't even recognize the actual nature of the conflict because he's so used to just shrugging and quietly handling matters himself.

Yona -- or someone like Yona -- being there helps with another hurdle in their relationship: I can't imagine the Hero of the Wild being trapped in a formal position like being the primary partner of a Prince/King. A good chunk of his backstory (even if it tends to get overshadowed by Zelda Angst) is how much the weight of being the Knight and Hero and Hylian Champion with all eyes on him fucked him up. He actually gives -- in canon -- a reason for being so quiet, and it's directly related to that stress. Sidon having a dedicated partner and Queen like Yona take the formal role while Link continues to be the Hero of the Wild would be helpful.

So yeah, I would absolutely be open to writing the ship. I've written them before, if not that many fics. The challenge, especially in regards to a long!fic, would be navigating these hurdles to create a solid, believable relationship while also writing interesting, in-character, plot-focused tension. Like, is there miscommunication based on a romcom trope or is there miscommunication because Sidon is willfully refusing to communicate and Link lacks the skills? How would Link react if he was forced under the spotlight again? How would Sidon's enthusiastic adoration and cheer react if there was actual conflict with Link, since we never actually see that in canon?

If you want just short and sweet fluff for these two? Very easy. Writing something longer and dealing with these things would require more time and thought. lol Definitely possible, though.

[mlmxreader]

Right Man For The Job | Kyle Gaz Garrick x m!reader

@guardkeywolf asked: GAZ X MALE READER

"Can you stop scaring them?"

Where Gaz's hubby is interrogating the enemy and some of his men end up watching and just become super scared of him and Gaz has to ask him to tone it down a bit and gets really protective of his own men…

summary: it’s not often that the right man for the job is also quite heavy handed and goes a little too far - but at least Gaz is there to keep you in-line.

tws: swearing, mentions of violence 

Shit had officially hit the fucking fan. A known enemy sat in a metal chair, squirming and crying as the gag in his mouth became slick with spit and tears and snot; Ghost had tried to crack him, but had not done much except terrify the poor sod, and time was running short. Task Force one four one needed to crack the son of a bitch before time fully ran out, and with little ideas, Price did the unthinkable: he brought in the fucking SAS. But while the others, including Alejandro and Rodolfo, were a little hesitant and were a little nervous to hear it, Gaz was far from it; he smiled when Price admitted that the SAS were on the way, knowing that if they were going to send anyone, it was going to be you. Gaz felt a little giddy when he saw the big black cars pull up, even more giddy when he heard your voice chatting to the other members of your team, barking commands and growling at them to do as you said; but then you saw him, and you waved as you smiled, making your way over and pulling him into a tight hug.

“You okay?” You asked, your voice muffled when you pressed your mouth to his shoulder. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Gaz shook his head, pressing his face against your neck as he smiled, welcoming the sweet scent of your sweat. Home. “I’m good, baby, I’m good.”

You nodded, rubbing his back gently as you hummed. “Do you think high command’s gonna regret sending me out to my husband?”

“I hope not,” he chuckled softly, only daring to pull away when Ghost called your name. “Do me a favour?”

“I’m not popping spots on your back again,” you told him, shaking your head. “It was vile the first time.”

“No, not that,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Let me stay in the room with you.”

You shrugged, knowing that, in the same way that you liked to make sure he was safe when you worked with him, he wanted to do the same for you. “If Price allows it, sure… where is the old geezer, anyway?”

Gaz pointed you over to where the Captain was, following behind you closely, a slight skip in his step; he was over the fucking moon that you were here now, so fucking happy to have his husband nearby. While you were talking to Price, though, Gaz found his hand searching for yours, and when you linked your pinky finger with his index finger, he smiled; it was such a small thing, so stupid and so insignificant, but to both of you, it meant everything. A reminder of home, a reminder of what you had waiting for you when the mission was complete; he stayed quiet while business was conducted, occasionally looking at you for reassurance that you were fine. But then Price told you to do what you wanted, gave you the reins and passed the torch, and Gaz asked the question at last.

“Can I stay?”

Price nodded. “The rest of us were gonna get something to eat, but if you wanna stay… ask your husband.” 

“Can I?” Gaz asked, looking at you with raised brows.

“If you really want to,” you told him gently, cracking your knuckles. “I gotta have a word with Ghost, though.”

He didn’t leave your side, knowing that you wouldn’t leave his if the roles were reversed, and stood beside you while you and Ghost discussed what had already been said and done, what bargains and negotiations had been attempted; you were glad that it was someone you could trust, that it had been Ghost who had had the first go and not some fucking trigger-happy Navy Seal with a stick so far up his own ass it came out of his mouth. Ghost had little for you to go on, though, just a few little bites of information that were just about enough to know the basics, but nothing useful. You clenched your jaw, looking at Gaz for reassurance for a moment before you sighed and swiped a hand down your face. 

“Let me see the cunt.”

Gaz lead you to him, but he stopped you before you could get a good look. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Very,” you nodded slowly. “It’s gonna be hard, but… I can do it, baby. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll be right here,” Gaz told you gently. “I’m not gonna go away.”

“I should hope not,” you laughed softly. “Can I start now, or…”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he told you, taking a seat on a nearby wooden box as he leaned back and rested his hands on his stomach. 

Gaz had seen you work a thousand and a dozen times, but nothing compared to this; the second the son of a bitch opened his mouth, and let loose an American accent, you switched. You went from Batman, to Bane. Gaz had never seen you work like that, and if he was honest, he was a little scared for the guy; you were fucking terrifying, and he could see it in the faces of your team as they started to crowd around to watch you work. Clearing his throat, Gaz came up to stand at your side, leaning over slightly so that he could mutter in your ear. 

“I love you, you know this,” he started, “but right now, you are fucking terrifying, and even your team are shitting bricks.”

You shrugged, raising a brow. “I love you, too, but… this is what I do, Gaz.”

“Can you stop scaring them?” He asked, turning to your men for a split second. “Just… tone it down a bit, please? Go back to Christian Bale Batman, not Tom Hardy Bane.”

You chuckled at the reference, and nodded slowly as you cleared your throat. “Alright… only because you asked so nicely.”

“Thank you,” he dared to kiss your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you smiled, clearing your throat and turning to your men. “Sorry about that, lads.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sir,” a few of them shrugged, thinking nothing of it as they continued to watch.

By now, Gaz’s team had returned as well, and when he filled them in on what they had missed, even Ghost and Price raised their brows in shock; they looked at you for a moment, fear in their eyes.

“He’s fucking scary when he’s like that,” Gaz admitted. “Be glad he’s on our side.”

Price nodded slowly, chewing at his lip. “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about something happening to you when you’re at home… think that husband of yours would do worse to someone who hurt you than some stupid cunt.”

Gaz nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he would.”

“Y’know, usually, when people say they’d kill for their spouse, they’re jokin’,” Soap pointed out. “Don’t think your husband is, somehow… he is fuckin’ scary.”

Gaz shrugged, hardly able to take his eyes off of you. “He’s alright. We can trust him, I promise.”

“We ain’t worried about that,” Ghost chimed in. “We’re worried about him possibly goin’ too far with that cunt there.”

“He needs to tone it down,” Price agreed.

“Give me a second,” Gaz said, rushing over to you and pulling you aside, out of everyone’s hearing. “Baby… please tone it down a little more? You’re scaring everyone.”

Your stern glare became soft when you looked into his big brown eyes, and the tension and anger dropped from you as you nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, baby, I got carried away, again.”

“Just keep it toned down,” he told you softly. “For me?”

“For you, I will tone it down a bit more,” you agreed. “Just… tell me you love me again.”

“I love you,” Gaz pulled you in for a quick kiss. “I love you, I love you, I fuckin’ love you… now go kick that fucking prick’s ass.”

You grinned. “I love you.”

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Another repost from 2021. I'll always have a soft spot for this fic. [ SYNOPSIS ] You're a talented, hot mess of a screenwriter. Zeke is a beloved actor/writer/director that seemingly has his shit together. What better way to repair your reputation than by fake dating him at the behest of your agent? [ WORD COUNT ] 8.8k [ CONTENT ] Film industry AU, fake dating, tall!reader, y/n has a personality, drug use, alcohol, sexual harassment (Don't fret! Zeke is not the harasser!), misogyny, depression, cigarettes, y/n is neurotic and doesn't like eating in front of people, existential angst, swimming pools, Floch is your agent, hungover!Zeke. [ PLAYLIST ] Here's the link.

A car barreled down the street, a puff of dark exhaust spewing out like a specter. The wind carried it off, now nothing more than a grey stain in the air. Still, the noxious smell made its way over to you and buried itself in your nose, seemingly singeing every hair. You sneezed and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, hoping no one saw you. In any other moment, you wouldn’t care.

But unfortunately today was a day different from the rest. You had to present and composed. Dignified. The exact opposite of how you were two weeks ago…

You’d been dragged to one of those gaudy industry parties: a grandiloquent​​ celebration for the cast and crew of a film you co-wrote.

You wore an understated, black sheath dress much too short for the occasion. On the model, the bottom hem rested gracefully above the knee, thighs mostly obscured by the cotton-polyester fabric. But you spent most of the night tugging on your dress and dissociating.

Your conversations were stilted. Your words tinged with uncertainty and distaste. Men licked their lips as they eyed your exposed thighs, occasionally winking if you caught them. The longer you stayed, the more your humiliation bloomed into an unspeakable rage.

Unable to contain yourself, you took to the stage and aired out your grievances. You pointed directly at a studio head, one that had been ogling you all night, and told him he probably had a “fucked-up looking, duck dick.”

It was no surprise the industry didn’t hold such high regard for your blatant disrespect. 

Proverbial water filled your lungs with every attempt to mend the situation. You nearly ruined a press junket with an impromptu apology, your hand gripping the microphone like a lifebuoy. Writers and script doctors, people you once considered friends, retreated and left you in their wake. You weren’t worthy of the insurance the studios had to take out to employ you. They’d rather watch you drown.

But for whatever reason your agency believed your talent was worth going through hell for.

“You can’t fuck this up!” your agent shouted through the phone. “Act normal. Smile or something. That’s not outside of your skill set, is it? ‘Cause if it is, you can go fuck off right now and continue ruining your career on your own dime.” His tone changed to a calmer fury. “Act like you are sociable and reliable. Please. For me.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m a writer. Acting’s definitely outta my skill set.”

“I am going to wring your little neck on our therapeutic, nature walk tomorrow. I swear to fucking god.”

You struggled to stifle a laugh as he berated you about how to position yourself in your chair and what food to order. He even told you what clothes to wear: a gauzy, light pink sundress that barely covered your ass and a trendy pair of chunky sandals. But instead you showed up at the restaurant in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. You looked positively pedestrian.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll be cordial.”

“For the love of—Act like you’re interested in him! You’re lucky he agreed to this. Flirt, be coy. ‘Oh wow, you look soooooo good.’”

“Is that how you woo the boys and girls?”

“Do you ever want to have a job again? Do you want opportunities?” 

“I mean… Duh.”

“Then make this believable. We need people to think you’re stable. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually like him.”

You rolled your eyes. The idea of “dating” a man to make yourself seem even-keeled and hireable was laughable. Sure, he was rather popular with the masses and industry folk. A beloved actor. A clever screenwriter. A visionary director or some shit. And yeah, maybe he was one of the more dependable men to work with. He was seemingly the exact opposite of you.

He was the industry’s golden boy.

Floch seethed through the phone. “Listen. To. Me. You are going to act like you’re having the fucking time of your stupid life out there, got it? You’re going to ham it up for the paparazzi.”

“Why would they give a shit about this? We’re not A-listers.”

“I fucking hired them, that’s why. Also I’d argue Zeke’s pretty A-list; he’s just boring as fuck… Shit. My daughter’s teacher is telling me I’m making the other parents uncomfortable. I gotta go.”

“Wha—where are you?”

“A PTA meeting.”

And with that Floch hung up.

“Okay,” you muttered.

You stood outside the restaurant, waiting for this Zeke Yeager. Part of you considered running off and finding refuge in the cutlery store across the street. But no, that would make you even more unappealing. You were being watched after all. Suddenly you were suspicious of every person around. Every car, every pedestrian, could have been a paid pair of lingering eyes. In a panic you tried to call Floch only to get his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Floch Forster. I can’t answer the phone right now becau—Louisa quit biting your brother! Jesus fucking… Leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I feel like it.”

You opted not to leave a voicemail.

As aggressive as Floch could be, he always was your biggest cheerleader. When he took you on as a client he made it clear you were his main focus. The only other person he represented was a surrealist director from Chile he had never spoken to directly.

You sighed and looked at your phone, hoping you’d find solace in your barrage of notifications. But none of them were particularly interesting. Still, you scrolled mindlessly, entering some sort of trance. The smell of cigarette smoke was what brought you back to the trappings of reality. You turned around to see Zeke.

“I thought you’d be shorter,” he quipped, taking a drag. “I don’t know why; don’t ask.”

“Is this how you say hello to people?” you asked, voice bristling with irritation.

“Yeah. You want one?” He held out his pack of expensive, imported cigarettes.

“Nah. I quit years ago. The taste makes me nauseous now.”

“How tragic.” He narrowed his eyes and took another drag. “You know I think I’ve met you before.”

“I don’t think so. I’d remember that.”

He wore a dark green flannel with a few buttons undone, his blonde chest hair peeking out. His beard wasn’t as neat as it was on camera; it was a tad longer, a little bushier. You preferred it over the perfectly manicured one. His long legs were clothed in dark blue denim, with a sizable hole in the knee. It was a relief that he hadn’t dressed up either.

“No, no. I definitely have. It was at—what’s her name—Yelena’s. You were with all those coked out girls. I tried to introduce myself, but you ignored me.” He laughed nervously. “But it’s fine. Do you still run around with them?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. That gaggle of starlets hadn’t crossed your mind in a year.

“No. I got sick of babysitting adult children with perpetual nosebleeds.”

“It does get old after a while. I knew I was done with that whole scene after I gave a guy naloxone behind a Scientology Celebrity Centre.”

“Can’t say I ever had something like that happen.”

“I don’t recommend it.”

He took a few steps closer and wrapped his arms around you, cigarette precariously resting between his fingers. He smelled like fresh laundry and tobacco. You swallowed hard, unable to recall the last time you let someone hug you. The only downside of it all was the potential of your hair getting singed.

“What the fuck, dude?” You asked, trying to act like you weren’t enjoying this.

“I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, aren’t I?”

“This just seems like a lot.”

“This is nothing,” he said.

He kissed your forehead and ruffled your hair. You hated him for taking on the role of your love interest with such ease. For you it was like putting a cat in a sweater.

“Relax,” he said, dropping his arms. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

You stared out into the street, over his shoulder. Your eyes followed a crowded bus as it puttered by. Anything to not look directly at Zeke. His whole person was overwhelming. You had seen him on the screen a handful of times and found him to be unremarkable, but seeing him in person was, again, a lot.

“Wish it was over now,” you muttered, finally stepping away from him. You immediately missed the warmth radiating from his body.

“We can make it fun. I promise.”

“Doubt it. Like don’t take it personally, but yeah. No.”

He grinned and tossed his cigarette out into the street, nearly missing a meter maid.

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“You’re an actor. Of course I don’t trust you.”

“Oh, come on.”

He opened the door to the restaurant. The smell of garlic and basil wafted into your nose.

“After you,” he said.

The restaurant was small. The walls were paneled with Pepto Bismol pink painted wood and decorated with aging photos of what appeared to be a sizable Italian family. Vases of wildflowers were scattered about. It was a level of hominess and familiarity that left you a little unnerved.

“I hate it here,” you whispered.

Zeke lightly elbowed you. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Sometimes you just kn—”

“Wheredyawannasit?” a lackadaisical host asked.

“What?”

“By a window,” Zeke said coolly.

You hated how easily he navigated social situations. Granted he was an actor; it was basically in the job description.

“A window, huh?” you said, cocking an eyebrow.

The bastard winked at you.

You both took a seat. The table was covered with a powder blue tablecloth and a pane of glass, and it was right by a large window. You felt on display. A waiter traipsed by and wordlessly dropped menus on the table. Everything felt unnatural.

“I hate how easy this is for you,” you said, opening a menu.

“That’s only because I’m at least making an attempt to have a decent time.”

“You don’t find this humiliating?”

“Why would this be humiliating?” he asked. “We’re having lunch.”

Why? Because it made you feel vulnerable, like you were tearing open a wound. You were sick of putting yourself out there. So many years you spent with a smile plastered on your face, eager to please, and for what?

“Because I’m over this shit, okay? I’m sick of appeasing people.”

“You’re in the wrong business then.”

The waiter came by and placed two glasses of water on the table.

“You think I don’t know that?” you groaned. “I just wanna write. That’s all.”

“What’s stopping you from doing that?”

“My reputation. Misogyny. Capitalism. That time I accidentally stepped on a service dog at a premiere,” you exasperated.

He laughed. “You’re too hung up on the past.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Don’t think about it then. That’s what I do.”

“You say that like it’s so fuckin’ easy,” you hissed.

The waiter returned and took your orders. You were surprised and mildly disturbed to see that Zeke only ordered a cappuccino and some amaretto. He noticed the face you made and shrugged. You found yourself intrigued and repulsed by him. He managed to be disarming and utterly intimidating at the same time. It was disorienting.

“So why did you have your little tantrum?”

“Which one?” you scoffed.

“The one that made a very drunk Floch call me at two in the morning, begging me to make you look ‘normal.’”

Floch’s fascination with you coming off as normal amused you to no end.

“Oh, right… Uh, like, I was just over it. Like doing all that dumb shit. Smiling even though I wanna die. Wearing uncomfortable clothes to uncomfortable events. Being friends with people I despise, like those fuckin’ girls I used to hang out with. Not being taken seriously unless I co-wrote with someone else. I don’t know.”

“It got old.”

“Yeah. I used to be fine with it, going with the flow or whatever. But recently, I don’t know. I can’t be bothered. Like I straight up do not care. I spent way too much time giving a shit about what people thought about me. I’m done with that.”

You found yourself clenching your fists and took a deep breath to dull your rage.

“Fair enough,” he said nervously.

Your voice softened, hoping to put him at ease if only a little.

“I’m not really sure where it leaves me but… Fuck it. I’m past the point of caring,” you said before quickly shoving a piece of bread in your mouth.

The rest of the lunch was awkward and unremarkable. You hated how together Zeke’s life was. He was working on a short film inspired by his salad days filming skate videos. He played in a celebrity baseball tournament for charity. He planned on spending a few months in Aotearoa because he hated wintering in California. And he footed the bill even though you wanted to go halfsies.

“Alright. Well, this was weird. I’ll see you around I guess.”

You started to walk off, but he grabbed your wrist. His calloused hands revealed his past in the minor leagues. You turned to look at him and immediately regretted your decision. He looked so dreamy. His eyes exuded kindness. You didn’t deserve it.

“When can I see you again?”

You glanced to the side and tried to concoct an answer.

“I don’t know. Have your guy call Floch and they can set something up.”

“I—I’d rather us do the planning.”

“Why?”

This was a business transaction; there was no reason to make it personal.

“I want to get to know you without that guy up our asses.”

Zeke pointed out a paparazzo in an inconspicuous silver Tesla. He hauled ass down the street once he realized that Zeke spotted him.

He continued. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

It was strange to see him so bashful. You desperately tried to recall the night you apparently blew him off, but that part of your life was a blur. A haze of cigarette smoke, maxed out credit cards, and ketamine. Too many nights spent flanked by socialites with fake voices and wannabe Kerouacs. That period of your life was one long night. A party you desperately wanted to leave. Something as angelic as him would have stood out amongst the filth and depravity you waded through. You would have followed him out of all that muck.

“I’ll think about it. DM me on Insta or something.”

You went to give him a hug goodbye, but he brushed you off.

“Guy’s gone. You don’t have to pretend anymore,” he said.

A sad, little smile had laid claim to his face.

“Oh, right. Anyway, I'll see ya.”

You turned away as he quietly said goodbye. You hated yourself for your vague cruelness, but this was humiliating. Here was this great guy who was willing to put his career on the line and be seen with you, and yet you were a total downer.

But you weren’t surprised. This was your modus operandi: torching bridges while they’re being built, you standing alone on the smoldering beams.

You were incredibly thankful for the “therapeutic, nature walk.” The morning was calm. The sun drifted through the window, painting your walls with a creamy orange. You sipped coffee, scrolled through your emails, and slowly prepared yourself for your jaunt in the woods. Floch picked you up at eight o’clock in the morning. The drive up was peaceful. You kept the window down and relished in the needley wind pricking your skin.

“He only ordered espresso and fucking booze?” Floch asked, helping you up a particularly steep hill.

“It was a cappuccino. But yeah. Not like I did much better though. I just slyly ate bread, didn’t even bother touching the tortellini I ordered.”

Once you crested the hill you were greeted by a sea of ponderosa pines. Nature had a way of calming your soul, quelling the disdain that seemed to permeate your being. You fantasized about leaving the city and losing yourself in the woods. The further you were removed from the industry the better you’d feel. Maybe you wouldn’t be so neurotic.

“Why?!” He exclaimed.

“I hate eating in public. Let alone in front of someone I don’t know and a guy with a camera. I did grab a bánh mì after.”

Floch sighed.

“I guess that makes sense, but it’s still fucking ridiculous. Think about the food waste.”

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath. You weren’t in the mood for such a conversation. You were aware of how odd your behavior was and didn’t need to be reminded of its environmental ramifications.

“Are you going to see him again?” he asked, taking a seat on a stump.

“He mentioned wanting to meet up again but on our, like, own accord.”

“Oh, so fuck me then?”

“Exactly,” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes. “What’s the plan?”

You plopped down on the ground next to Floch.

“No idea. But probably something stupid and pretentious. He hasn’t reached out to me yet though. Maybe I scared him off.”

Floch flicked your temple with his thumb and middle finger.

“Stop overthinking it. Call him right now and make plans.”

You stuck your tongue out like a child. “Gross. I’ll just text him… Wait, do you have his number? I didn’t ask for it.”

“I thought you wanted to do this on your own accord,” he said, pulling out his phone.

“I’m adding a teeny addendum to that,” you snickered.

Getting a hold of Zeke ended up being more of a struggle than you anticipated. His voicemail was full and your texts were never read. The lack of response made a pit open up in your stomach. You tried to fill it with coffee and the occasional blunt, but nothing sufficed. He had no reason to get back to you anyway. You weren’t particularly friendly during your lunch.

That was always the worst part. The hangover from your behavior. You used to think nothing beat the shame of waking up after a night of binge drinking, cursed with only a vague recollection of the awful things you did. But when waking up stone cold sober there was nothing to hide behind.

It was a great relief when Zeke finally called you back. He apologized for being so busy, but his words felt rather hollow. You didn’t think he was lying, but you questioned how genuine he was being.

“Meet me at the skate park on 16th and Sequoia. I have some filming to take care of and I’m trying to work with natural lighting,” he rambled.

“Shots’ll look good,” you said, trying to sound knowledgeable even though you didn’t know much about filming.

You agreed to meet him on the grounds that he let you pay for coffee.

Once at the park you were greeted by a sea of teenagers and their cacophonous choir of expletives and shrieks. You waded through them until you found Zeke sitting on the floor, fiddling with a Sony Handycam.

“You seem a little old to be hangin’ with this crowd.”

“The whole point is that they’re young. Tell me, does that kid read late-2000s, maybe early 2010s?” he asked before standing up and grabbing a worn out board.

You stared at a boy dressed like an extra from an early Odd Future video.

“I guess. Please tell me you’re not gonna skate.”

“Of course I am! That’s how it’s done.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you do this?”

He sighed. “When you say it like that, it’s going to sound boring. It’ll just be an hour and then we can get coffee.”

A kid interrupted your conversation by kicking Zeke in the shin.

The kid barked, “Is Eren coming?”

Zeke shook his head to the kid’s disappointment. They dejectedly skated off without a word.

“You should have hit me up later. I could be at home right now and diving into the depths of Vine compilations.”

You pantomimed diving into a pool much to Zeke’s amusement.

Zeke skated off and exchanged pleasantries with the pack of hormone-addled youths. One of the girls set off and he trailed after her. It was a rather boring experience as a spectator. Zeke skated alongside her, crouching on his board, camera angled at her feet.

“Impressive,” you called out as Zeke reviewed what he filmed.

“Please, that was nothing.”

“Do something cool then. Do a trick.”

What happened next should have been expected, but somehow ended up being a complete surprise. Zeke attempted what you later learned was a heel flip. All you saw was him skate past you and then suddenly he was a mess of tangled limbs on the concrete, his board rolling off into a bowl. You ran to him while the kids keeled over with laughter.

“Shit,” was all he could say.

“Are you okay?” you asked, knowing damn well he was not okay.

“Help,” he coughed.

He looked so pathetic and small on the ground. You reached out and hoisted him up. Now that he was upright the extent of his injuries seemed to be reduced to a few raspberries and torn jeans.

“I keep bandaids in my kånken,” he winced.

“Knew you’d have one of these fuckin’ stupid ass, expensive backpacks,” you muttered.

You tended to his scraped knee, borrowing some bactine wipes one of the teens had on her person. Dabbing Zeke’s knee you looked up and found him gazing down at you, eyes teeming with longing. You instinctively glared at him like an asocial idiot.

“You look like you're proposing to him,” a boy slurred.

It didn’t take much to clean Zeke up, but his ripped jeans revealed his hubris. The walk to the coffee shop was spent with him slightly limping with his arm around your shoulder. You wondered if there were any paparazzi around to document this sad sight. Though maybe Floch decided he had better things to spend money on. You were left with only a wisp of paranoia.

“This is what I get for trying to show off,” he said, easing himself down onto a bench.

You took a seat next to him and couldn’t help but laugh as he iced his knee with his cold brew.

“Is that actually helping?”

“Kind of?” he replied with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, like you said, it’s what you get for showing off.”

“Come on. I’m injured. You should be nice to me.”

“I don’t have to be anything to you.”

He gulped and quickly let out a nervous laugh. You took a long sip of your drink and shifted your eyes to the side, staring into a rose bush.

Zeke sighed. “I hate to use an idiom, but you really are a tough nut to crack.”

You shut your eyes tight and fought the urge to spill all your secrets. Something about Zeke lent himself to it. Or rather you were looking for the opportunity to let it all out and projecting it on him out of sheer convenience.

He continued. “I’m not saying you need to bare your soul to me, but I’d like to get to know you. I want to get to know you.”

“I’m not worth knowing,” you droned.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I can and I am. Like not to be super fuckin’ dramatic, but getting to know people, letting them in and shit… It’s not worth the hassle.”

“Hassle? I’m not asking you to do hard labor,” he laughed.

“You don’t get it. I can’t just ‘get to know people.’ I—if you get to know me it’s like I’ve torn myself open.”

“What if I told you I just wanted to know your favorite color?”

You gritted your teeth and seethed, “You’re not getting it.”

He turned to look at you. You cut your staring contest with the rose bush short and gathered as much false bravado as you could. Gazing into his grey eyes would weaken you. You knew it for a fact and had to be prepared.

“You’re not really giving me a chance to.”

Damn. It. There was no preparing yourself for his patience, his kindness, even if it seemed a little phony. You held his gaze for a while before finally breaking the silence.

“It's like a piece of me is being ripped away… when I let people in... It feels like a weight. Or a void. Or both? I don’t know. I try to talk about it, but I fuck it up every time. 99% of the time I say something cruel or like dumb.” You took a deep breath. “And it’s… it’s not like I can actually be there for people, if I were to let them know me or whatever the fuck. Like what do I do? I gore myself for these people and leave them with… what? Viscera and trash?” Your thoughts were growing hazy, your anger obscuring your thoughts. “I don’t know. I’m a disease. My heart is a worn down mountain. I’m nothing more than the smoking, smoldering mine under that fucked up town that inspired, uh, Silent Hill.”

Saliva pooled in your mouth. Your inability to explain yourself was making you ill.

“Your heart is an eroded landform. And also, somehow, Centralia, Pennsylvania.”

“That is so reductive.”

“Listen. You’re not making much sense, but I think I want to underst—”

“I don’t need to fucking make sense! I… I’m just so sick of feeling like shit and not knowing what to do. Do I keep shutting myself off? Acting like a fuckin’ demon hermit that shrivels in the spotlight? Spitting and hissing at my contemporaries? Or do I go back to painting my face like a whore clown? Do I go back to making people feel vaguely at ease?! Or do I keep pushing against it?! How many hands are gonna crawl up my skirt if I go back to smiling and acting like I’m proud of the fuckin’ Kate Hudson vehicle I co-wrote with five other people? I can’t do that shit anymore. I’d rather throw myself down a flight of stairs.”

“Okay, Zelda Fitzgerald, take a breather,” he consoled or rather attempted to.

His arm hovered around your shoulder before finally patting it with his weighty hand. A small but welcome gesture. You snorted and wiped away the tears that had been collecting in the corners of your eyes.

You knew nothing you spewed made sense, but it needed to be said. It had been festering inside you. You still felt terrible, but lighter. You didn’t feel like Atlas carrying a bounty of self loathing and misanthropy on your back. For once you exhaled and there was relief.

“It’s green,” you said quietly.

“What?”

You spoke up. “My favorite color. It’s green.”

“You seem in good spirits,” Floch noted. “It’s weird. Are you sure you’re not ill?”

“What?! No! I just, I don’t know, I feel decent.”

“Are you on drugs?”

“Ugh. No. I legit feel okay… esque.”

The park was crowded for a Wednesday morning. Usually your weekly walk around the lake was a calmer affair. Granted the park was dotted with everchanging oak trees and it was fall.

“All because of some guy. Wow.”

“That’s not why. But you know, he is pretty fun.”

“Uh huh.”

“Though maybe I only think that because he’s hot.”

You happened to glance at Floch and the cat-like grin on his face. Being embarrassed and saying “just kidding” crossed your mind, but it was true. You did find Zeke amusing and attractive.

“You like hiiiiiiiim,” he teased.

“I said he’s hot. That’s hardly… Shit. Fuck. Okay, maybe I like him a little.”

“This is great! Now all you have to do is make him fall in love with you and hopefully have that convince every stupid fucking studio to suck your figurative dick,” he cheered.

You frowned. You had momentarily forgotten about the transactional nature of this relationship. Floch immediately caught onto your disappointment.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t pursue this seriously. You could probably be his girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever.”

You froze, wide-eyed, letting a rogue jogger bump into you.

“I—I never said anything about that.”

“Your reaction just did the talking for you,” Floch said, punctuating his sentence with a smirk.

“It’s not like I stand a chance anyway.”

You didn’t consider yourself desirable, let alone Zeke’s type even though you honestly had no idea what that was. Your self confidence had been in shambles for months; anything was possible.

“Hm. Now that I think about it I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him dating anyone.”

“Hopefully his type is whatever all this is,” you sighed, looking down at your body.

“People seem to think you two are cute together.”

“Great, but what do the people that matter think?”

“Well… They kind of think a little less of him now that you two are dating.”

“Nothing ‘bout me though?” you asked flatly.

“Nada.”

“I mean that’s not too bad.”

“When are you seeing him next?”

“He invited me to some party at some guy’s house. All I know is there’s a pool and Zeke intends on pushing his brother into it.”

“Oh wow, sounds super romantic,” he snarked.

You stomped on a crunchy leaf. The party could end up being romantic if you tried. So far you made little attempt to impress Zeke and he was still drawn to you. If you actually did something, who knows what you could accomplish?

That night the driver Zeke hired to pick you up plucked you from your home and dropped you off at a glass windowed monstrosity nestled in the hills. It was owned by the editor of a marginally popular skateboarding magazine.

You were irked that he decided to go to the party early and not extend the invite. You hated shit like this and even more when you were forced to do it on your own.

You exhaled and your fist hovered parallel to the door.

“Just knock, dumb ass.”

Before you could the door was ripped open by a tanned, green-eyed man. He was wearing a red cut-off shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and checkerboard slip-ons.

“You’re not the weed guy,” he said, frowning.

“No. I mean, I have weed. Bu—but I’m not, like, the designated weed guy. I wish I was though. Like that’d be dope.”

He looked you up and down, and hollered over his shoulder, “False alarm.”

You heard a choir of groans and sighs from behind him.

“Uh… so, can I come in? Zeke invited me.”

You introduced yourself and quickly found out the man you were talking to was Eren, a professional skater and Zeke’s brother. He slid out of the way, granting you permission to enter. You stepped inside and stared up at the enormous foyer. A twinkling chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the vacuous space. It was sterile and everything blindingly white.

He led you into a room filled to the brim with people. You found yourself wanting to cling to him even though he was as much a stranger as everyone else.

“So yeah, I don’t know where Zeke is but I’m sure you’ll find him. Let me know if you don’t!”

And with that Eren disappeared. You were happy to see no one looked particularly glamorous, but it did little to quell your nerves. A Yaeji song seemed to blare from every corner of the house; it was inescapable. Doing this shit sober was never your forte.

“Hey! Over here,” you heard a familiar voice emanate from the crowd.

You pushed through and found Zeke surrounded by actors. You plastered on a sickly grin and hoped no one could discern your disdain.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiii,” you sneered unintentionally.

Zeke slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you next to him. You wanted to puke.

“I’m glad you found your way here.”

“You had a dude come pick me up which, you know, made it pretty easy.”

He smiled at you like he didn’t even catch your snarkiness.

A guy you didn’t recognize asked, “You’ve always had a bit of a mouth on you, haven’t you?”

“I was literally born with one.”

“Do you know how to shut it?” he followed up.

“Nah, but I know how to shut yours.”

Zeke dug his fingers into your waist, his face still smiling. You held your tongue while the guy continued being an absolute asshole. This was the kind of nonsense you couldn’t stand. You zoned out, eyes looking outside at the pool. The voices around you melded into a singular drone you tuned out.

“Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “I asked you a question.”

You looked at Zeke for reassurance and saw that his attention was elsewhere. Your stomach dropped. He may have been standing next to you but he felt miles away.

“What?” you finally replied.

“Did you really fuck Magath to get a writing credit for that Jennifer Aniston movie?”

Your skin felt like it was on fire. Holding back wasn’t an option.

“It was a Kate Hudson movie. Why the actual fuck would I sleep with someone to say I helped write a Kate Hudson movie? Are you stupid or just trying to start shit? Because if your only way to make me feel bad is by implying I slept with someone to further my mediocre career, you need to try again because that ain’t gonna cut it.”

You freed yourself from Zeke’s grasp and got in the guy’s face, towering over him. He gave you nothing but stunned silence.

“Let’s get some air,” Zeke said a little too cheerfully.

Once outside you held your head in your hands, fighting the urge to scream. You should have acted unbothered, but weren’t good at faking. You kicked the air in frustration.

“What was that back there?”

“What was what?” you spat out. “You mean the dumb fuck inside?”

You dug through your bag for a joint and a lighter, sighing in relief when you found them with ease. 

“You should have had my back,” you said, using the joint to point at Zeke.

“I didn’t even know what was going on,” he lied.

“You were right fucking there! You were literally right beside me,” you said, lighting the joint.

“What was I supposed to say?”

You took a hit and exhaled.

“Fucking anything,” you suggested. “Could’ve changed the subject. Could’ve said, like, ‘Go fuck yourself. Don’t talk to my fake girlfriend that way.’”

“Once that guy gets going there’s no stopping him.”

“You noncommittal piece of shit. You fucking Judas.”

“Don’t let something that inconsequential ruin your night.”

“Maybe it was inconsequential to you...” you said, taking another hit.

Zeke reached out for the joint, but you didn’t hand it over. He didn’t deserve it.

“But it wasn’t to me. Do you know how often I deal with shit like that?”

“You should be used to it then.”

You were rendered silent. You couldn’t even verbalize your rage. Words were incapable of capturing the essence of it.

So you opted to push him in the pool.

You stormed off back inside, lit joint hanging out of your mouth. The house felt like a maze, you could’ve sworn it got bigger, vaster. Everyone’s faces blended together. You felt like you were gradually traveling back in time, like you’d been here too many times before. This wasn’t the person you wanted to be. This wasn’t any better than the old you.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw a couple people tending to a soaking wet Zeke, briefly making eye contact with him. Instead of glaring at you he smiled. You were happy he didn’t seem to hate you but it was infuriating all the same. He never dropped his facade. For the longest time you admired this ability but now it was a glaring flaw.

The relief that washed over you once outside was immense. You found yourself sitting on the curb, finishing off your joint. It was a clear night, colder than anticipated. The stars made your discomfort worth it even if most were drowned out by civilization.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have anything important in my pockets.”

Zeke stood behind you, his wet clothes clinging to his body. He was shivering.

“Bummer. I was kinda hoping I’d fuck up your phone at least.”

He laughed and sat next to you.

“I realize I could have probably been a bit more sympathetic.”

“I didn’t want sympathy. I wanted you to have my back. Toss out a witty retort that defended my honor or some shit,” you replied dejectedly.

“You held your own though.”

“That’s not the point,” you called out in exasperation. “I know I can hold my own. But… fuck, I don’t know. I needed you!”

He cleared his throat, his nerves revealing themselves.

“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll—”

“Ugh. Please. I’d rather fucking die than have a next time. I cannot keep doing this shit.”

You looked at Zeke and his pathetic form. You took off your jacket and put it over his shoulders.

“It gets so exhausting. Defending myself. It’s almost as bad as pretending everything is fine, like nothing is wrong,” you said sadly. “I feel like I’m talking in circles sometimes. Don’t mind me.”

“I’m going to mind. You pushed me into a pool about it.”

You groaned and stared up at the night sky.

“All of my self worth used to come from how fuckable I was because I thought that’s all I had to offer. I was made to believe that was the extent of my purpose. The writing was auxiliary. A nice surprise. And I cultivated that notion because I bought into it.” You felt yourself getting frustrated. “Do you know what that’s like?”

“No. I never had to concern myself with something like that.” He paused. “I suspect that was a rhetorical question.”

“It was, but I appreciate you being honest.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m too afraid to,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “I am not that scary.”

“That guy nearly shit his pants when you got in his face.”

“Oh my god! I hardly got in his face.”

“Just own up to it. You’re a little intense. It’s par for the course in this industry. Nothing wrong with it.”

“Fuck. Fine. Whatever. I’m a little intense.”

Both of you fell silent. You scooched closer to Zeke, hoping maybe your body would warm him. You wanted to make up for acting so childish.

“I could never be like that,” he muttered. “Though I'd like to be.”

“There’s nothing stopping you.”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s just not my nature.”

“Ah yes, I forgot you’re such a gentle boy,” you teased.

He grinned. “Exactly. I’m too delicate.”

You hated how cute he was when he smiled; you wanted to kiss his crow’s feet.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked smoothly.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

Zeke drove you home in his black Polestar 2. He cranked the heater as he sped down the freeway, still shivering. He tried to keep the conversation light by asking if you had been working on anything.

“I can’t even remember the last time I wrote.”

The realization made you nauseous.

“Why haven’t you been writing?”

You hung your head and struggled to articulate your vague, creative block. “I don’t know. Like why bother if no one wants to work with me?”

“Don’t you enjoy doing it?”

“Yeah…”

“There’s a reason to bother.”

“... True. It’s not like I need permission from anyone.”

“Just yourself.”

He had a point. Whether you wrote or not was one of the things in your life you controlled. There was no reason to hold your ideas hostage. You had every right to free them and let them wander the page.

When you finally reached your home you hesitated to get out of the car. For whatever reason you wanted to remain around the damp man beside you. The hearty yawn he let out though helped you make your exit.

You took your seatbelt off and turned to face him.

“Thanks for the ride. I would not have been as kind to you had you pushed me into a… pool.”

“I know,” he said wistfully.

“Well, uh, get home safe.”

“I’ll try. I hope you feel better.”

“Me too,” you sighed, stepping out of his car.

“When can I see you next?” he asked dreamily, his rough hand latching onto your wrist.

“I don’t know.”

“Ballpark it for me.”

His grey eyes were trained on your lips.

“Soon I guess. Go home, sleepyhead. You look damp and miserable.”

Zeke bid you a weak farewell before driving off. You couldn’t figure out why he put up with you. Why did he want to see you again? You, who had dented his reputation with such ease. All you seemed to do was make his life worse. And yet he kept coming back.

Floch wanted to wring your neck for the pool incident. Someone managed to film it and the footage went viral. The narrative surrounding it all was that Zeke tried to dump you and you simply could not cope with it. You were painted as a hysterical, scorned lover that couldn’t take a hint.

You had to laugh. You wished it was that simple

“You ruined everything. It’s fine. I don’t care, but I need you to know that,” he said over the phone.

Hanging up on him crossed your mind but you wanted to be mature.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I fucked it all up. But it can’t get any worse.”

“Don’t! It absolutely can!”

“Fine. I don’t think I can feel any worse. I think I had a breakthrough honestly.”

“Oh, thank goodness! Will this breakthrough translate into people trusting you?”

“Nah. But it did make me realize, like, I don’t have to do studio shit. I can just write whatever I want. Fuck my reputation. I mean, I know I won’t make money, but I’ll figure that out later.”

“As your friend, I’m happy for you. That’s fabulous. But as your agent, are you kidding me?!”

“Nope!”

Floch groaned and muttered a few indecipherable expletives before saying, “If this is what you really want, I’m up for it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I think you got the talent to pull it off. I would have kicked your sorry ass to the curb if I thought otherwise.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to be so accepting,” you demurred.

“Listen I may be a fucking bastard, but I believe in you. I always have. If you don’t fuck around and get your head out of your ass, you can do it. I know you can.”

Elation couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. All the unnecessary pressure you put on yourself dissipated. You were free, lighter than a feather. You looked out your window at the soft, warm light of the moon. The oak trees’ autumnal leaves ebbed as a cold wind swept through them.

“Th—that really means a lot to me.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta go. Louisa and Reed are running around like wild animals when they were supposed to be in bed at 9pm which was… Three fucking hours ago?!”

He hung up before you could say anything.

“Dude has no phone etiquette.”

Just as you went to set your phone down you received another call. This time from Zeke. You couldn’t imagine why he’d be calling you at such an hour.

“What’s good?” you asked.

“Can I come over?!” he bellowed through the phone.

“You don’t need to yell.”

“I’m sorry. Can I come over?” he slurred.

“It’s a little late. I was gonna crawl into bed.”

“Ah, fuck. Well, I’m already here.”

You peeked out your window and saw him swaying in front of your home. He was drunk, practically wasted.

“Yeah, I see you. Uh… Hold on,” you said before hanging up.

You threw on a robe and greeted him at the door.

“How did you get here?”

“Whoa, whoa. One question at a time,” he leaned against the door frame, “cutie pie.”

“... How did you get he—”

“Caaaaab. Old school. Called ‘em up. That’s how I’m doin’ shit now. New year, new me.”

“It’s… It’s November.”

“I’m pregaming. Can I come in? You owe me.”

“Yeah, c’mon in.”

You let him inside, stifling a laugh as he stumbled through the door.

“I meant to do that.”

“Sure you did,” you replied, patting him on the back.

You led him into your living room and gestured for him to sit on your couch. He happily collapsed face down on it. You winced and decided to get him a glass of water. When you returned he was sitting up, his forehead a little pink from where it made contact with the cushion.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asked, now holding his head in his hands.

“Yeah, dude.”

“You hurt my feelings.”

“Is this about the pool? See, I knew you were fuckin’ mad at me!”

“What? No. I don’t care about that.” He stared up at you over his glasses. “That party. The one where I tried to introduce myself. And you blew me off.”

You held the glass of water out to him. He snatched it out of your hands like a little gremlin.

“I don’t even remember that. Are you sure it was even me?”

He took a sip of water. “You’re very hard to forget for better or worse.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you think I agreed to do any of this shit anyway? My agent’s been on me about dive bombing my career, which that’s him being a drama queen, but that’s not my point. I, fuck… I like you so much. And I want you to like me too, but I get that you don’t and that’s fine. I don’t like me either. I’m fake.”

“You’re not fake,” you said, taking a seat next to him. “You’re not like… the most genuine person, but I wouldn’t say you’re fake.”

“No. Don’t. I’m a phony.”

“Oh my god.”

He groaned and took another sip of water.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whined. “I just… I hate that I can’t find it in me to be like you. You refuse to take anyone’s shit and have no problem sticking up for yourself. A director literally told me to ‘get the stick out of my himbo ass’ when I said he should treat his cinematographer with more respect. And you know what I did? I fucking did it… Not… No, I didn’t pull a stick out of my ass.”

“I figured,” you snorted.

“But I smiled and said, ‘I guess it’s not my place.’ Not a hint of sarcasm. I rolled over, showed that man my belly, and begged him to slice me open as a way to repent.”

“Belly? What belly? You mean your abs? Come the fuck on. Belly? Ha.”

Zeke lifted his shirt and examined his abdominal muscles. He shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” he said, pathetically leaning over and resting his head on your shoulder. “You wouldn’t have done that. You would’ve been said, ‘I’m about to pull the stick out of my ass and beat you with it if you don’t start treating them better.’”

“You’re not allowed to do that good of an impersonation of me. Not this early in our fake relationship.”

It was hard to hear Zeke being so drunk and vulnerable. You didn’t know how to handle him. Jokes and asides seemed to be the only thing flowing from your mouth.

“You are on my mind a lot,” he lamented.

“Trust me. I’m not exactly someone to admire.”

“Stop. You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to decide if you’re worth knowing, or worth admiring, or worth loving. I get to. Not you.”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

Zeke exhaled deeply.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I’m not that delusional, but… Fuck, just let me like you? Let me get to know you? I need to be close to you.”

His drunk ramblings were bathed in anguish with a tinge of hilarity. You felt bad for him, but it was an unexpected surprise for him to be so forthcoming about his pining. Never before had you considered anyone aching over your perceived indifference. You had to admit it boosted your ego a little bit.

“You’re practically sitting on me right now so we’ve crossed that bridge.”

He sniffled.

You kept speaking. “I’m gonna be real. I’m not exactly used to, uh, hearing shit like this so I don’t know how to—”

Zeke grabbed ahold of your face and kissed you; it was ripe with desperation. You momentarily reciprocated the kiss, leaning into him and his embrace. He tasted like tequila and cigarettes. His teeth clinking against yours pulled you out of the moment, letting you assess the situation. You pulled away and cleared your throat.

He was wasted and, as much as you wanted to kiss him, he was in no position to be doing anything of the sort.

“You’re drunk, Zeke.”

“I know. I should go. Do—don’t tell me about anything I said tonight.”

He tried to stand up before quickly resuming his previous position.

“Stay the night. We can get you home in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah?” he asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing his red rimmed eyes.

You nodded. “You can even sleep in my bed as long as you don’t act like a fuckin’ weird ass.”

“I assure you I will not be a fucking weird ass. I’m very anti-weird ass.”

“Good.”

“I’d—I would even say I’m bigoted towards them,” he slurred as you helped him up. “Weird asses have too many rights. We let them out in the world? They’re just skittering around, weird assing it up?!”

You started to crack up. He sounded so serious and intense. It was like he got possessed by Daniel Day-Lewis for a brief moment.

“Hush. Don’t get yourself all riled up.”

A faint smile crossed his face. It was markedly different from the ones he had worn before.

You couldn’t help but ask, “Are you smiling because you’re happy or are you compulsively masking your feelings again?”

“It’s a real one,” he said, his words all melting into one.

Regardless of their decipherability, you liked having verbal proof that Zeke genuinely smiled in front of you. The second you got him into bed he passed out. You crawled in on the other side, careful to keep some distance between your bodies.

When you woke up the next morning you found him cuddled up next to you. You slept on your back so you wouldn’t have felt compelled to curl up next to Zeke. But somehow in the middle of the night he managed to embrace you. His head rested on your shoulder and his arm was lazily draped across your chest.

You ruffled his hair and gently sang his name. He groaned and held you closer.

“Hungover?” you asked.

He yawned. “Just a tad.”

He rolled over onto his back and slowly sat up, his shoulders slumping forward. His eyes were barely open, protecting themselves from the harsh, autumn sun.

“Is your career really tanking because you traipse around with my dumb ass?”

His shoulders heaved as he gruffly chuckled.

“If I were a hyperbolic man, I’d say yes. Alas, I am but a normal guy so no.” He was interrupted by a hearty yawn. “People give me shit about it, but that’s hardly an issue. And, hypothetically, if chasing after you did take a massive shit on my career, I don’t think I’d care. Or I’d at least try really hard not to.”

“I guess that’s… admirable.”

“You know what would be admirable?” he asked flirtatiously.

He glanced over at you, clearly admiring your sprawled out limbs as the sunlight danced along your skin.

“What?”

Zeke’s face fell into despair. He froze and swallowed hard. His pallor took on a sickly greenish hue.

“I was going to say you should kiss me, but I don’t feel good at the moment.”

“Fuck. That’s so sexy,” you teased.

He gave you a wink before softly moaning as waves of nausea overtook him

“So, uh, now that you’re not wasted…”

Your words struggled to form sentences. You wanted to make sure Zeke meant the shit he said last night.

“Can I… Am I still worth loving? Wait! Or knowing or whatever you said? I can’t remember.”

You remembered everything. There was no use in pretending.

Zeke was quiet for a moment before a sly grin crept across his face. He fixed his gaze on you and simply said, “Absolutely.”

“Really?” you croaked out.

“Yes. I have one request though. I don’t want our agents involved or any industry people. We do this on our terms,” he orated.

You nodded and poked his cheek much to his chagrin. “Got it. We do it for us.”

He laid back down next to you, resting his head on your chest.

 “Exactly. For us,” he replied softly.

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Seven: Unjust Treatmnet - 10k Words

The Ocean Queen shows her true colors, which leads to a lot of talking between Jimmy and Fwhip.

(TW for Transphobia, thoughts of self harm, mention of deceased parent. A lot off heavy stuff in the sections marked by ~~ if you want to kip them. I cam/will provide a summary <33)

A03 Link

After the.…. reveal , as Fwhip had devided to call it, the trip to the Codlands didn't change much. Their schedule remains rather similar; wake up, eat breakfast (which quickly becomes awkward and painful if the Ocean Queen decides she's in a chatty mood that morning. Yes, Fwhip glares at her every time she speaks, getting him looks in return from the merfolk. No he does not  care. All these stuck up rich people could fuck off, for all he cared.) and then go do whatever they were needed for in the Codlands, Which was usually a lot, considering they were basically making a new empire from scratch. 

Before the last little bit, the Cod Empire, as it was now being called, had just been a small village. It couldn’t hold all the codfolk, so most of them were forced to live in the Ocean. Though from what Fwhip heard, they and the merfolk would like the cod in their own biome, in their own cities, and away from everyone else. So now, once more construction had been ordered, they had to make a sizable empire. And also plan all the buildings out, so the empire didn’t have a bunch of random houses placed randomly. Most of that had been done before Fwhip arrived though, so he was mainly saddled with getting materials and helping with a bit of infrastructure; as much as he could help with anyways, since he was still underage. 

His main job was to help Jimmy with most of the new ruler stuff he was having to do, occasionally accompanied by Pix whenever he came around. Which is a good thing with hindsight, because establishing a whole nation from scratch is hard and Jimmy had no idea what he was doing (to no fault of his own, of course.) The worst part was picking anyone who would work in the government, which the cod had in the form of a Council, because most of them decidedly did not like Jimmy. It came down to tensions between the Cod and Oceanfolk, as even though the Prince was literally a cod, he was Ocean born or whatever so people didn’t like him. Same thing had happened with his father, back in the day, according to Lizzie and Pix. Fwhip found the whole issue dumb and stupid, because at the end of the day they were all weird fish people, and ignored it best he could.

He figures, about halfway through all this and when the expanding village is a lot more stable, that his visit was a little early. The trip was probably planned a few weeks down the line, when there wasn’t as much work to do. Because, for all Fwhip tries to help, he’s a little in over his head helping Jimmy run things, on top of all the cultural differences between their empires he always forgets to account for.  But alas, shit had gone down at home, and he’d been sent off early. Not that the half dragon minded, because drowning himself in work or someone else’s problem was a great way to distract his own.

So minus a few surprise Pix visits, (because the man knows that he can pop up in any empire whenever he damn well pleases and fully takes advantage of that,) nothing much about their schedule changes. The one thing that does change however, is that Fwhip notices how Jimmy is treated in his own home. And frankly, it's disgusting. He knows very well how his mother treats him, and can easily fill in the gaps when he doesn’t see stuff. The castle staff aren't much better either, which earns them no kindness from the future Count, and Fwhip thinks the overall opinion of him in the palace is very, very low. Not that he cares much for these people’s opioids, but everyone can feel the way the mood shifts when he walks into the room, and he’s perfectly fine with that. Mood shifts are frequent at the Manor anyways, so he has some..…prior experience of being where he’s not wanted, if you could phrase it like that.

Lizzie is the biggest frustration, really. Fwhip doesn't get to see her very often, the princess always whisked away on some task her mother ordered, because learning to be queen is apparently a very busy job. So busy that she can't even spend a day with her own damn brother, much like it used to be when Gem still lived at the Manor. But, when the two of them do cross paths, it's often around the Ocean Queen herself. And Lizzie acts very differently around her mother, very different indeed. Enough to piss the half dragon off, too.

She seems to act like Jimmy isn't real, never sparing her brother a glance around the Queen. And when she does, the princess dances around gendering him. Like she doesn't want to misgender him, but also doesn't want her mother's ire turned on her. And Fwhip can get that fear, he truly can, but really? There has to a point, where supporting your sibling is more important than whatever scolding or harsh words that Lizzie might receive, and he feels like this situation fucking crossed that line. 

Fwhip can't even imagine, if Gem were in the same position, doing nothing as their parents treated her like that. Of just sitting there and dancing around the subject like Lizzie does. The thought of it makes him feel disgusted. The ginger knows he couldn't even live with himself if he let her be treated that way, especially if he could do something to stop it. Their parents already mistreat the both of them in different ways, and it's half the reason he fights with his mother so much. Because he knows and he hears the things she says, and isn't going to stand for it. Not when it comes to Gem. 

They might’ve just had the worst fight they've ever had ever , but she's still his baby sister. Even if they're both fucked up and disagreeing with each other, Gem’s still his twin. She's always been there for him, for his whole life she's been there. The young wizard was the one person who'd been there for everything, and had seen the parts of him that even Sausage hadn't seen. (The worst ones, the ones that were ugly and broken and angry at everything and everyone, regardless if they'd ever wronged him.) She's the sole reason he didn't just run away during the divorce, because he couldn't leave her to shoulder all that alone, even when it hurt him so much to stay. Fwhip had known leaving Gem would hurt a lot more than anything at home ever did.

That's why he's so upset with Lizzie. It takes a fair bit of reflection to figure out, but all of that is the reason. Because despite everything, despite every horrible thing they'd ever said or done to each other, his sister was still his sister at the end of the day. And he couldn't imagine just leaving her to suffer like that, especially if he saw how much it hurt. Because every time Lizzie or the Ocean Queen leaves them, he catches a glimpse of how Jimmy’s expression twits in pain. Or in frustration or anger or just pure sadness . (Which usually comes after a rather stiff interaction with his older sister, and is usually masked by a very familiar frustration.) Or how his fist clench and his tail lashes and how much it clearly hurts to live with a sibling who won't even try to protect him. 

And in the two or so weeks Fwhip’s at the castle he sees and hears a lot. He hears the arguments they try to keep quiet, because their guest is always somewhere nearby one of them. He sees how Lizzie goes to Joel’s a few times, but Jimmy has to stay and how much the cod clearly wants to go, but can't because the two of them have been tethered together against their wills. He sees how Jimmy leaves him to go comfort Lizzie on bad days, when their mother gets too much for her, or the both of them, and hears bits of the quiet comfort he attempts to give his older sister. Even if it doesn’t always work, he's still trying , a lot more than she is for him. 

(Because despite the horrible hand he's been dealt, Jimmy is still stupidly kind and caring, and the half dragon doesn't think that's going to change, not ever, not for anything. The Ocean Prince is too stubborn to change like that. He thinks it makes the cod a better man than him too. He almost ran away for suffering what he believed was less, and almost left Gem because of it. If he was in Jimmy’s position, he would've disappeared into the ocean never to return, or started a goddamn villain arc by now.

He has to wonder why Jimmy even stays anymore, and figures that's a question for another day.) 

And Fwhip likes Lizzie. He really does. The princess isn't as annoying as her brother, isn't so dead set on throwing insults at him. She's funny, she's talented, she's kind and has all sorts of charming little quirks, and she's been a good friend. Even if she is a fish. Which is why this sucks so much. Because he likes being Lizzie's friend, but can't force himself to be okay with her behavior. 

Fwhip knows she has her own problems, because all of them do, and he doesn't want to downplay them. The ginger just really wishes she would do better. Not even for him, or herself, just for Jimmy. Just for her brother, nothing else.

He just wishes she would be a better sister. It would make life a whole lot easier for both of the siblings, that’s for certain. And make this trip a lot less painful for him as well.

Fwhip spends the whole trip wishing that, after the reveal, and feels frustration twist in his gut whenever she dances around Jimmy. He gets it now, why that sour look is on the cod’s face half the time. The half dragon thinks he even mirrors it, sometimes, when his anger gets too much and he has to bite his tongue before he lashes out, and gets sent home early. He thinks he understands why Jimmy would rather go be stressed about the whole empire he now has to run, rather than spend twenty minutes alone with his mother. And he’s not even the one living here twenty four seven.

And that’s how a lot of the days on this home away from home are. Wake up, glare daggers at half the castle, leave, snap at Jimmy, run around the disgusting and mud-filled swamp for hours, then they return back to the Prisma Palace for even more suffering and even more moments where Fwhip has to reel in his temper. Because, as much as he wants to punch someone, he doesn’t want to go home and face his parents, or Gem. Not just yet. And also it would probably backfire on Jimmy, if nothing else. He’d feel too horrible, if something bad happened and it was his temper’s fault again; if he broke anymore bridges with his stupid outbursts and stupid problems.

A lot of times now, the half dragon can’t help but simply feel bad for the guy. The feeling overriding all his dislike of the cod on most days. And maybe, if they can find some common ground like this again, their arrangement can be…tolerable, at best. Maybe…

_____________________________

One day, on one of the rare days they have nothing to do, Jimmy decides to show him the castle gardens. The cod says they’re going there because he’s bored, and likes how pretty the gardens are. Jimmy says it’s his favorite part in the house, because no one will bother him there, not even Lizzie. And yeah, Fwhip can’t disagree with that. The Manor’s gardens were a pretty quiet place back home, where he always went after a bad day or if he just needed some alone time. So the gardens in the Prisma Palace can’t be that bad, especially if they’re an escape from Jimmy’s hellish household.

And the gardens were nice, Fwhip found when they got there. They actually exceeded his expectations, the water flora being quite pretty. Some of the gardens were above the water, along with lily pads and other sea grasses. The rest of it, like the other half of the palace, was below water, and contained fish swimming through the plants. It was nothing like anything he’d seen back home, and the ginger found himself staring at the garden the whole time in wonder.

He and Jimmy don’t talk much, content to do their own thing for the handful of hours they stay in the garden. Fwhip, like the nerd he is, pulls out a small notebook from one of his coats' various pockets. He always keeps this one on him, and the pages are worn and full of old notes and sketches he did whenever he had an idea, but was away from his normal workspace at home. The ginger flips to an empty page, one randomly placed in the notebook, before fishing a pencil out of his other pocket to begin sketching.

He occupied himself with something he’d been wanting to do for a while, which was taking sketches and notes of the plants and animals in the Ocean Empire. He was sure he would return to it eventually, maybe in a few years, but the future Count wanted a head start on his project. He always liked seeing how his personal notes updated and changed overtime anyways, and he was very curious how that would go this time around. Fwhip had never really studied aquatic organisms before, or paid them much mind, so there was a lot he had to learn.

His passion for this hobby had come in his younger years, when the half dragon first became interested in farming, around the age of nine or so. He’d always wanted to help around the farms, and still found the work rewarding to this day. But at the start, it had been very hard for him to remember everything the farmers were teaching him, or what breed of animal was what, the information easily getting jumbled up in his brain. His mother had come up with a solution, after he’d gotten particularly upset one day, buying him his first notebook, and telling him to write things down. She said it always helped her with remembering spells, and to give it a try. If that didn’t work, then she said they would find another method. Nowadays, Fwhip considered it one of the few good things the woman had ever done for him, and longed for his younger years when she’d been kind and caring towards both her children.

This particular notebook, the first he’d gotten on his own, was one he had for years now, and it’s nearly filled up. He bought or made all his notebooks with the intent of them lasting years, resulting in them being two times chunkier when he finished them. Not that Fwhip minded in the slightest. The very first pages of this one were filled with old sketches, some maybe four years old, from when he had first been allowed to work on the farms. All of the crops of his homeland (which were mainly different types of potatoes, with a bit of wheat and carrots thrown in) were sketched, each with a page dedicated to facts and little notes about how they grew under certain conditions. He’d also gone out of his way to sketch various livestock, most of them being cows or chickens. Though there was the occasional blood sheep drawing thrown in here and there, from whenever Mythland gifted them one. Or when a herd wandered too far from home, as the creepy little things tended to do.

Fwhip gave all his old sketches a fond but brief glance as he idly flipped through the pages, waiting for a fish or something to be visible. He’d already drawn all the plants he could see, and mourned the loss of the strictly underwater life. Now it was a matter of watching the beautiful scenery, and hoping he could get a good enough look at a fish, or other stray sea life,  to note some stuff down. The little guys did swim pretty damn fast.

(He made a mental note to ask Jimmy some questions later, during one of those times they weren’t scowling at each other. He needed the cod to see his plant drawings so he could properly name them, and would have to avoid him catching a glance of anything salmon related in the notebook. And, because he knew the blonde would ask, Fwhip would rather stab himself than add a cod to his scared pages, thank you very much.)

Jimmy sat a few feet away the whole time, much closer to the water than the half dragon was. His feet were dipped in the water, brown pants legs rolled up to keep them dry, kicking at the sea every so often. Fwhip would sometimes hear him muttering in codlish, or oceanic, and made a whole separate page in the notebook, for whenever he picked up a sound or a letter. The cod would be communicating to whatever fish came over, something Fwhip honestly forgot he could do, and would switch the language accordingly. Sometimes it even sounded like he was mixing the two. The ginger really should’ve tried to learn oceanic, at least, considering he hadn’t been able to understand a lot of conversation for the whole trip. But that was something he could ask Lizzie about later, when she doesn’t feel so upset at her anymore.

They spend at least two hours in the gardens, maybe more. Just….sitting there, alone together. It’s the most peaceful time he’s ever had in Jimmy’s presence in the two or so years that they’ve known each other. It’s nice, to not argue, or to not be actively annoyed by something. It’s nice to finally have a day to relax, and let his brain slow down for once. His thoughts are always going a hundred miles an hour, so Fwhip savers any moment where they stop, no matter how long or short it is.

Eventually, though, they do have to leave. Jimmy walks over, and gives the half dragon a light tap on his shoulder, startling him out of his skin. Fwhip shuts his notebook with a snap , giving the other a small glare. Jimmy just rolls his eyes, and promptly turns to the garden's entrance. The ginger decides he’s going to ignore that disrespect, wanting to keep his peaceful mood for as long as possible, and reluctantly starts to follow the Cod Prince back into the castle.

~~ When they’re walking back inside Is when it happens, when the Ocean Queen catches them, and when everything goes more than a little downhill that day. Neither of them even know what she wants them for, other than to possibly them dodging the family breakfast this morning. Jimmy said he didn’t have the energy, emotionally, to deal with that today, and Fwhip had agreed. He didn’t have the patience for Lizzie and whatever looks he’d inevitably receive, so agreeing to just hide out for a little while was a no brainer. And then they had ended up in the gardens, an hour before noon, and now they were here. Caught right in the act of slacking.

Jimmy’s dead name echoes off the wall, loud and deafening, along with his mother's distinct voice, a few seconds after the ginger first hears her footsteps approaching. The first thing Fwhip thinks upon hearing it is that he never wants to hear it again, not ever again in relation to the boy beside him. It feels so wrong just to hear it said every time he hears a whisper of it, like a sin of some kind, because that is not his fucking name.

Beside him, Jimmy stiffens instantly, but says nothing. He even looks like he's going to respond to his mother, after she just called him that. Which, no , absolutely not . He’s sick of just having to sit here and watch them disrespect Jimmy like this, and it's made him ballsy. The half dragon turns around to the Queen before the cod can, before Fwhip himself even realizes what he's doing, tail lashing. He'll stand for a lot of things he probably shouldn't, a lot of things Jimmy himself would disapprove of, and he knows that, but this isn't fucking one of them. 

"His name's Jimmy! " Fwhip snaps, glaring daggers at the Ocean Queen, at least a week's worth of frustration very evident in his tone. Beside him, the cod prince goes completely stiff, and his face falls in what has to be horror.

"Young Count," The Queen narrows her eyes in response, her voice low and her words picked carefully. Deliberately . "Glad to see you're starting to get along with your…" She trails off to clear her throat, right before saying the worst words Fwhip has heard in recent memory. And he hears some shit from his parents' mouths.  "..future wife." 

The half dragon thinks he sees red for a minute, glaring daggers at the Queen. It's not often you do that to other royalty. It’s not often that he does that to anyone, even his other family members; and they really know how to piss him off. “Future husband .” He spits out the retort, feeling his tail lash with anger again.

“Fwhip…please.” Jimmy begs him, going to tug at his hand. The blonde’s broken out of his horror, and it is very clear that he wants to leave, to run away, now . The half dragon just stands his ground, only managing to keep his tail under control. He is not as successful with his temper, because he never is and probably never will be.

"You should listen to her, young Count." The Queen continues, giving a glance at her son. Fwhip really wants to know what she’s conveying with it, because it makes Jimmy get even more upset beside him. "Before I report this to one of your parents."

"You mean him. " Fwhip corrects again, holding back an angry huff. He doesn't give a shit if the Queen tells his parents, he doesn’t care what anyone tells them about his behavior. If anything, this specifically will just make them think less of her. They can't punish him anyways, not in a way he hasn’t worked around before.

"Fwhip, let's go. There was that thing I wanted to show you." Jimmy says again, now pleading. He tugs on the ginger’s arm, hard enough to start pulling him the opposite direction. Fwhip holds back a growl, not enjoying being tugged around. The half dragon has to stop himself from turning around and snapping at the cod; instead taking a few deep breaths before his impulses can get the better of him. He’s not mad at Jimmy , he shouldn’t get mad at him right now. It’s his mom who’s the problem, who’s making him so upset. 

“I-” He starts to protest again, the growl being squashed before it can leave his throat. He is not going to get unfairly mad at Jimmy and snap at him. He’s not , it’s not his fault-

" Fwhip. " Jimmy hissed, low and panicked. It's the fear in his voice that gets through to the half dragon, that pushes through his anger. He knows how fighting back can make things worse, and he doesn't want to make things worse for Jimmy. He really, really doesn't want to make things worse for him. So Fwhip stops trying to argue his point, and backs down. 

"Fine, Jimmy. Fine. " He says, letting himself be tugged away. But not without one last glare at the Ocean Queen. The royal says nothing, just watches them disappear around the corner of the hallway. The ginger feels her piercing, near angry, gaze on his backside until it’s gone, and has to press down the shiver that it causes. Jimmy doesn’t say anything, doesn't even look over his shoulder like he normally might. He just pulls them into a nearest room, one of the unused guest bedrooms, to hide away for a little bit. They’re doing a lot of hiding today, and Fwhip, whose limbs are shaking with leftover rage, can’t say he really minds.

Once the two of them are in private again, Jimmy hugs him. Well, sort of. It's more of an awkward side hug, the cod having to lean down slightly to even do so. Fwhip doesn't protest as Jimmy buries his face in his shoulder, the blonde's whole body going completely slack as the tension leaves him. Fwhip holds him there, and resists the protective older sibling urge to move him closer, hold him tighter. Like he always did to Gem when she was upset… (Even if he only is older by a few seconds, bit still, older sibling urges regardless.)

"You good?" He asks, resting a hesitant hand on the taller boy's backside. He hopes it's as soothing as he thinks it is, and maybe he's right. The cod does lean into the touch just a little, going even more slack against him. Once again, Fwhip can’t help but just….feel bad for this idiot, as weird as it would’ve felt too not even a month ago. 

Jimmy’s next words are very muffled, as he presses his face harder into the half dragon’s shoulder. As if to stop himself from crying. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"No. You're shaking." Fwhip huffed, drawing Jimmy closer. He was giving into those protective urges, that might be a mix of dragon and older sibling being in him. It’s the wobbly tone and slight voice crack that makes him fold, in all honesty. He was never very good at resisting anyone balling their eyes out, or getting simply teary eyed.

Jimmy mutters again, even more muffled. "Heh. Figured." He isn’t saying much, not yet, and the half dragon decides to give him a few minutes. The eventual Feelings Talk can wait, just for a little bit. But it has to happen before they leave the room because holy fuck he’d just yelled at Jimmy’s abusive mom in her own kingdom.

"I hate your mom. I hate her so much." He says, letting himself give in. Fwhip lets himself fully hug Jimmy, surprised when the other holds him back, and buries his face into messy blonde hair. His limbs have stopped shaking with anger, thankfully, and causes his hold to be a lot more steady than he thought it would.

"Tell me about it." Jimmy snorts, sounding amused. And also snotty. The ginger will be politely ignoring the slight dampness on his coat for the next few seconds, even if it really bugs him. It’s not about him right now, it’s about Jimmy and his dumb mom and his dumb house and how he can’t catch a fucking break half he time-

"Let's get one thing straight, yeah?" Fwhip says, interrupting his own thoughts and nudging the cod a little. Jimmy looks up slowly, curious despite his better judgment, and meets a harsher gaze than he expected. His gaze is all sad and wobbly, like a sad little dogs’, while the half dragon’s eyes hold a ferocity and determination for what he’s about to say next. Truly a great reflection of everything about this situation, really.

"I still do not want to marry you," He growls gently, rage at the Ocean Queen still lingering as he stops hugging the other, and takes the cod’s face in his hands. His hold isn't too harsh, but it's just enough to pinch a little; to really hammer in what he's saying here. "But if I have to, you're gonna be my husband . Not my wife. Never my wife. You understand?" 

"Yeah….." Jimmy almost hiccups out the words, his eyes instantly going all watery again. But he doesn’t spill over, not yet, just sniffles a few times and tries to keep his composure for a little bit longer. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for common courtesy." Fwhip snorts, and Jimmy really looks like he’s about to cry after hearing that. The future Count goes to shush him, still acting on those older sibling instincts. Jimmy just shakes his head, sniffles once more, and tries his best to wipe away the tears now pricking at his eyes.

"Sorry I just…no one really stands up for me like that. Other than Joel…" The cod mumbles, not being able to do much as his cheeks are dampened. He’s very clearly trying not to sob, and it’s failing pretty miserably. He also sounds ashamed of himself, of crying and being treated nicely. Fwhip wants to punch whatever adult made him feel bad about crying like this, even knowing that’s probably his mom again, realistically. 

"Then they need to do better." He says, thumbing tears away without even thinking and pushing away old memories of a younger, smaller Gem, crying much like the blonde is now. Those are thoughts for much, much later, when he’s not holding the saddest boy he thinks he’s ever met in his hands.

"I know…" Is the last thing Jimmy says, before the dam breaks and he just sobs . Fwhip doesn’t saying anything, only gently moves them both down to the floor, and holds the cod as he hiccups. They’re not chest to chest like they probably should be, Fwhip’s not comforting him like he probably should be, but he thinks it's enough. He mutters kind nothings into the silence and wipes Jimmy’s tears the best he can, the other hiccupping and letting out wet sobs with every breath. It takes ten very long minutes for the tears to finally stop, for the blonde’s breathing to finally even out, his tears abating for now. The half dragon thumbs away the wetness on Jimmy’s face one last time before pulling his hands away, and has to wonder how many years’ worth of tears that was.

“Thank you for doing it, though.” Jimmy says when he’s a bit more composed, leaning his head against the wall. He looks up at the ceiling, not sniffling anymore, but looking a little despondent. Fwhip can't help but worry for his enemy, more than a little bit too. Jimmy’s normally very good at not showing how horrible he feels, much to his own detriment most likely. 

He starts to repeat his earlier sentiment, and is quickly and surprisingly cut off. Which is weird, Jimmy normally lets him speak, unless he’s really snappy or something. “Don't-”

“No, thank you.” The cod repeats, sounding a little firmer. An indication he's not just saying thank you for getting basic respect. That this is different. That this is so much bigger than Fwhip ever could’ve thought. “I wasn't….I wouldn't be doing good without you or Joel.”

The cod takes a deep breath, like he has to keep himself from crying again. He also just….. stares at his wrists for a few seconds, and the half dragon feels a horrible little lightbulb going off in his head before Jimmy even speaks; because he fucking gets it so much it hurts . “I don't know what I would've done if ..”

He doesn't say what he would've done, but Fwhip gets a pretty good idea. A pretty good idea that without Joel, Jimmy wouldn’t fucking be here . He latches himself onto Jimmy as he speaks, hugging the other boy tight. The cod makes a strangled sound, and buries his face into messy ginger hair. The half dragon never thought he'd be hugging this guy twice in one day, but fuck their stupid rivalry. This was a lot more important, so, so much more important.

“God you are such a mess .” Fwhip muttered, his face buried against Jimmy’s neck. He tightens his grip, a million horrible scenarios racing though his stupid brain. That’s all he says on the matter, partly because he doesn’t know what to say, and partly because his gut is twisting itself into knots of horror and fear as they speak.

“I know.” Jimmy mumbles, with what sounds like a weak laugh. His own grip on the other tightens in response as well. “Thought I should mention it, so you know what you're dealing with. All of it, I mean.” He explains, and Fwhip gives the best nod he can. The future Count is going to help Jimmy the best he can, he couldn't just not after these last few days; after today especially.

“Does Lizzie know?” He asks. They should probably talk properly, face to face, but Fwhip doesn't want to let go. Not yet. Not until all of him is convinced that Jimmy is okay, that he is still here and breathing underneath him. 

“Only you and Joel.” The cod hums. It feels like he's calmed down, as he isn't trying to hide tears anymore. That or he can just suddenly cry without his whole chest heaving. And for all Fwhip knows, that’s some weird fish ability he;s never heard of before. “I don't know if I can tell her, or if she would do anything about it.”

“Of fucking course.” The half dragons says, still not ready to let go. Of course Jimmy can’t trust his older sister with anything. And why would he? After all the behavior Fwhip’s seen her display, he knows he wouldn’t trust her either. He wouldn’t trust anything with anyone in the castle, if he was in Jimmy’s shoes, and doesn’t blame the other for feeling that way in the goddamn slightest.

Jimmy makes an amused sound, one that’s probably not fitting the current mood. “Yeah. Yeah.” He hums, now resting his cheek on top of Fwhip’s head. Just for a few minutes, until they untangle themselves. Just until no one needs comfort anymore and the two of them can go back to never touching ever again. And after a few more minutes of just holding each other, Fwhip feels like he can let go. Like the cod won’t vanish as soon as he stops holding him. So slowly, the two boys separate, and the half dragon rushes to fill the silence as soon as they do. ~~

"Why'd you pick Jimmy?" Fwhip sits next to the cod now, cross-legged and his tail flicking behind him. It’s a question he’s been wondering for a few days now, and there hasn’t been a better time to ask it than now, and there probably won’t be one again; knowing the two of them. "I mean, it suits you, but I'm just wondering."

Jimmy hums out an explanation, going to idly fiddle with the pendant he always wears. It’s from his father, if Fwhip remembers correctly. "Well, I actually picked James, but Jimmy is a common nickname for it. Lizzie started calling me that one day."

Fwhip nods, and resists the urge to glance down, at where the cod’s wrists lay. That’s exactly what he’s trying not to think about, so he won’t. He won’t, he’ll keep talking so he can keep his mind away from all the things he would never want to consider becoming real. “I get it, you know, the name thing.”

“Oh?” Jimmy says, curious. There’s also a little undertone of caution, of worry in his voice, and Fwhip can’t help but appreciate it.

“It's not the same as you but…..they did name me FailWhip.” He says, like it’s an easy fact of his life. Like his birth name didn’t horrible fuck with his mindset as a child, like he didn’t have to fight tooth and nail to shorten it to what his name currently is. Like his parents ever understood why he hated it. Like the knowledge that it even happened, that it was there, still dones’t fuck with his head to this day.

But he says it easily, for Jimmy’s sake, because it is not his turn to talk about his baggage. And also, he doesn’t really want to get into all of that, not right now. That’s for a different terrible day, sometime a little while in the future.

Jimmy’s voice is very quiet when he next speaks, and he sounds horrified. “That's….horrible.” He sounds so sorry for Fwhip. Part of him appreciates it, the other part doesn’t want pity over this. He decides to let it go in the end, after a few minutes of quiet deliberation.

“And legally changed, after a lot of fights about it.” Fwhip huffs, and moves the concentration on again. He’s glad he and Jimmy can relate a bit about names, really he is. But this brings up some unpleasant memories, ones that started and showed the cracks even before his family had split, when he was younger. And he doesn’t like remembering them, plus the extra questions he had about Jimmy’s transition, so he just moves on like it never happened; and ignores how a comforting hand was put on top of one of his. “Can I ask something else? About your transition?”

“Sure.” The cod sounds appreciative at the question, though Fwhip is sure his sudden topic changes aren’t going unnoticed. He doesn’t like them either, and would rather not do it, but his emotions have been everywhere since just a bit ago. The half dragon doesn’t imagine JImmy’s doing better either, so it’s fine . That’s what he tells himself, anyways.

 “Are you on testerone or anything..? I'm just curious, that's all.” Fwhip asks, genuinely curious about all this. They haven’t had the chance to discuss this topic much, and he wants to learn more. Plus, by the way the blonde’s face lights up, he doesn’t get these questions much, and is way more than happy to answer them.

“Nope, but I tried to get some. Mom wouldn't approve of it.” Jimmy said, his tail flicking behind him, kinda cat like. The conversation was far too easy, far too normal of a thing for them to be having. It’s certainly not something that would’ve happened before. Neither of the boys really noticed at the moment, too wrapped up in what the other was talking about for the first time in….while. (Fwhip will think back on it one day, admit the feeling was nice, and then shove it away to the deepest depths of his mind once again.) “She used the dumb excuse of it messing with my other health issues.” Jimmy rolls his eyes a bit on the last part, his voice souring as well at the memory.

Fwhip gets concerned for a minute, and wonders if there’s more stuff he’ll need to watch over in the future. He finds himself totally unburdened by the thought of making sure Jimmy is okay, mentally and physically, especially if no one else in his life (sans Joel) would even make an attempt too. “Health issues?”

“Forgot you didn't know about that.” Jimmy says, smiling a little sheepishly as he explains. “I've had health issues since I was a baby, because my egg was small and damaged. They're not that bad anymore though. She still wouldn't give parental permission for any hormones anyways…” Fwhip nods, after considering all of that and decides he shouldn’t have to worry. Not too much anyways, if Jimmy’s been managing all these months with little to zero complications. After that, they fall into a comfortable silence, the ginger running out of trans-related questions to ask the cod.

It’s quiet until Jimmy speaks again, muttering softly into the silence, like he’s scared the wrong person will hear him. Even if there’s no one but the future Count here to listen. "Sometimes I wish my dad were here, instead of my mum." 

"Would he be more…accepting of you?" The half dragon asks the question a little hesitantly, not having heard much about the late Ocean King. He knows the cod people weren’t fond of him, Lizzie misses him dearly, and that Jimmy wears his pendant despite never meeting the man; and that is all he’s gathered so far. Undsertanbly, the family doesn’t like talking about their late relative much, especially if his death was upsetting, like their behavior seems to imply just a little bit. (Maybe it’s why Jimmy’s mom is such a backside, the one person that could tolerate her is gone…)

"Yeah, Lizzie seems to think so anyways. She said he was always much nicer than mum is." Jimmy hums, a bit louder. He’s still pretty quiet though, subbed by thoughts of someone he wishes he got to know. If only for a little bit, even if only as a tiny egg or baby. "He always wanted a son too, apparently."

That leads Jimmy onto another subject not even five minutes later, one more related to the both of them. "That's why they picked us to get married, y'know?" The blonde asks, giving the ginger a rather knowing look. Some bad feeling is already starting to settle in the half dragon’s bones, and his tail flicks in a slight upsetness. 

"Because…." Fwhip prompts. He’s pretty sure he gets it, or at least where the blonde is going with this. But he doesn’t want to speak the words. This is Jimmy’s story to tell, after all, and they would taste like ash on his tongue if he did speak them aloud.

Jimmy confirms what he’s thinking, and the half dragon feels his stomach drop and some nasty feeling twist in his gut. "Because to her I'm not a boy."

"But Lizzie-" His protests are weak, even to his own ears, and sound like words of someone who’d never had the misfortune of meeting the Ocean Queen.

"Lizzie's too important to be married off like this. She's the heir to the throne, she has to learn to be queen or whatever. So mom picked me…" The cod cuts him off, going on a ramble before he can even stop himself. These are words he’s probably been wanting to say for a year and a few months now, and Fwhip can only imagine how satisfying it must be to finally say the truth, after all this time suffering in silence. He knows his own heart would feel a lot lighter if he would just do the same to Gem, back at home…

"And Gem….Gem is a girl. And they can't marry two girls together, can they?" It all comes into place there, how back when they were first told off the arrangement, Jimmy and his mother had glared at each other. And she had won the nonverbal argument they were having, and her son had been withdrawn and stiff for the rest of the day. 

Fwhip has never wanted to punch someone more in his life. And he shouldn't, because she's a queen, but he really, really fucking wants too. 

"I bet they still want us to make an heir still. It's probably in the agreement somewhere." Jimmy mumbles, voice breaking. He says it like he knows for a fact that detail is in the agreement, and not like he’s guessing. The prince is so certain of it, like his mother had made sure he knew exactly what she wanted. Jimmy sounds disgusted at the thought as well, and disturbed. Fwhip finds that he shares the sentiment.

"Absolutely not." The half dragon says, keeping his voice firm. They’re not fulfilling that part of the agreement. They can do the rest of it, but never that part, for both of their sakes, but mainly Jimmy’s. They're not having a baby, that can be Lizzie's job. 

"Thank cod." Jimmy mumbles, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He seems so incredibly relieved and happy by that answer, Fwhip kinda wants to reach over and hug him for a third time that day; for some reason he can’t place.

~~ Unfortunately, that is about the time one of the maids, presumably doing her daily cleaning, finds them. Both boys jump when the door is opening, scrambling further away from each other. They weren’t doing anything, but that sure made it look like they were. The maid spluttered a bit, her voice almost coming out as a yell when she spoke. "You two shouldn't be in a room alone, it's not proper!" She says, glaring at both the young rulers like they’d actually done something wrong .

"It's not the first time!" Fwhip retorts, immediately going on the disrespect. And also catching onto why this might be considered ‘improper,’ his blood beginning to boil before he even gets the question out of his mouth. "And why is it not proper, huh?"

"Fwhip-" Jimmy small protest is cut off, the maid speaking over him. Though the half dragon does have time to give the cod a quick glare, one that’s warning him to shut up. To let him handle this. To let him protect the blonde just this once . 

The maid begins, voice overlapping with Jimmy’s, and is getting cut off as soon as the young cod is, the half dragon’s temper snapping like a twig in the woods. “A young man and-"

"Well luckily for you, we're both young men. So piss off." Fwhip snaps, giving the woman the most annoyed glare he can muster. She does not, in fact, piss off despite the orders too. So the ginger repeats himself, knowing full well the castle staff have to listen to him because of who his parents are. Even if they all think he’s a little shit. (He doesn't normally like that privilege, but he’ll use it when it can benefit him, like right about now.) "You heard me. Piss off."

The maid glares at him for a moment, before huffing and turning heel. She doesn’t close the door when she leaves, but the maid does leave it ajar. Fwhip feels himself growl as he watches her leave, and there’s a scowl on his face when he turns back to Jimmy. ~~

“We should make out just to spite her.” He grumbles, a little pissed off all over again. The half dragon hated the people in this castle, hated how they talked about Jimmy. He hated it more than words could ever describe, only growls, tail lashing and other noises feeling right enough to convey it most of the time.

Jimmy snorts, a little amused. He pushes Fwhip away, nose wrinkling at the thought. Though with less disgust than would normally be there, no doubt. “No offense, but gross. Not with you.”

“I expected as much.” Fwhip says, rolling his eyes maybe a little fondly. Maybe in just a tiny bit of amusement. “That wasn't serious, by the way.” He adds, remembering earlier conversions about them……er, feeling for each other, and wanting to avoid anything like that from ever happening between them. 

“Thank cod.” Jimmy sighs, sounding really relieved, and that is where they decided to call it a night. Or a day, considering the sun hasn’t quite set. They sneak back towards their rooms, skipping dinner, just like they had skipped breakfast and a little bit of lunch, not caring how hungry they are or the consequences not eating much will have later on. Fwhip doesn’t want to see anyone else in this dumb palace for the rest of the day, and has no complaints when Jimmy drags him into his bedroom. He has no other complaints when, a few hours later, they both end up falling asleep in the same room.

Fwhip knows he probably wouldn;t be able to sleep, alone in his room, after all the stress and new information from today. He just needs to be by Jimmy for one night, until his anxieties are quelled, and then the two of them can finally go back to normal for the rest of this dumb stupid little trip.

_____________________________

A few days later, Fwhip’s trip is up. He has to go home now, and leave the Ocean back to its normal life. So, the night before, he hastily packs everything, and does several double checks to make sure he doesn’t leave anything. He doesn’t know when he’ll next see Jimmy, after all, and likes having his stuff with him when he can. And in the morning, after one last search of his guest room, he depearts before breakfast, just like he’s been ordered too, and starts making his way to the castle gates. (It only took him a few weeks to be confident in finding it….totally navigable castle… yep ..) As he walks, a certain prince joins him, and, for the last time on this trip, Fwhip finds no desire to shoo him away.

“Sorry for making you deal with all my problems.” Jimmy says, now walking him towards the castle’s entrance. His tail drags on the ground behind him, and Fwhip wonders if the cod will miss him. If he’ll be lonely now. (He secretly wonders if he will be too…) “I didn’t want this trip to be depressing, but it kinda was.”

“Don’t sweat it, it got me outta the house. And it would've been hard to ignore some parts.” Fwhip shrugs easily, bumping his tail with the blonde’s on purpose, playful. Maybe something like that would lighten the mood. He doesn’t know. The half dragon isn’t a people person, or a fish one. Never had been, never will be.

Jimmy bumps his tail back on purpose, the smallest of smiles flashing across his face. “Yeah.” His plan to be playful worked! Score one for Fwhip, score zero for social anxiety. Truly a massive win for him indeed, considering how many of his social attempts have failed before over the years.

“I don’t want anything fake anyways. I hate when people are fake for their stupid image or whatever.” The half dragon says honestly, giving the cod’s tail another return bump, one that’s a little stronger than before. “I just want the real people.” 

“Heh, okay.” Jimmy laughs, a real one this time. Maybe one of the few real ones he;s had in weeks. And then, before either of the boys know it, they are at the gate and the guards are going to help Fwhip depart. “See you later.” Jimmy calls that one last thing to him with a smile, already starting to back away and go back towards his little hell home. The whole ordeal truly feels a little wistful, for whatever reason, like they are old friends seeing each other off for the last time. Or something dumb and sappy like that.

“Whatever, nerd!” Fwhip calls over his shoulder, not hearing whatever Jimmy responds with, and before he knows it he is on the track back home. Back to the Grimlands. And he has a lot to wonder over, in those few hours it takes to get home. Like that strangely friendly goodbye he’d just had with Jimmy , of all the people in his social circle. And everything that’s happened over the past few weeks, to him and the Cod Prince alike, and how they’re going to act going forward. Because it’s certainly going to be very, very different from how they acted and treated each other, that's for certain.

The trip to the codlands…..does something to their relationship. Fwhip doesn't know how to describe it, other than he can barely stand the young cod half the time. Until someone starts calling him a girl, then he can more than tolerate him. Then the half dragon is willing to defend his future fiancé in any way he can. 

It's funny, they're funny like that. They hate each other, they both bully each other, even if the half dragon is arguably the instigator half the damn time. But he won't stoop to that level, and he won't let anyone else do so either. Fwhip thinks Jimmy even trusts him now, to a certain degree. Which he can't really blame the blonde for. If he lived in that horrible of a household, he would trust the first person who so much as respected him too. Though hopefully Jimmy can get away from it all, now that he's scheduled to spend more time with the codfolk….

God's, he's sitting here worrying about Jimmy of all people. That's what he meant when saying this did something to their relationship. It made them care about each other in some weird way. It made them care for each other for only a few seconds at a time, then it was back to business as usual. It probably solved a lot of problems they had, and Fwhip wouldn’t be surprised if it caused a few new ones as well. Something always did with the two of them.

Speaking of fixing and creating problems, he has a sister and (maybe a father, if he even sees his son today) he needs to talk to, and knows the conversation is imminent as soon as he arrives back in the Grimlands. It’s not a conversation he’s excited to have, he’s actually very scared of it. But he knows it needs to happen, and wants it to as well. So it’s going to happen today, whether the future Count likes it or not.

Him and Gem have been messaging a bit, ever since the communicators had been finished. The devices were in the works for months, and just happened to be finished a week after their big fight. Not only was that convenient, it also allowed for very stiff conversations to be held, before and during his trip to the Ocean Empire.

They haven't really seen each other in person since the argument, and even before he left, only scarcely in passing. But he thinks they're going to today, since Fwhip has been away from home two whole weeks. Maybe even three. He think’s shes the only one of his family who will welcome him home, and that’s fine by him. He’d had enough of shitty mothers for a little while, and would have plenty of time to see his dad later. Fwhip did, rather unfortunately, have to see the man at breakfast everyday.

An hour after he gets home and puts his bags away, Fwhip decides to bite the bullet. No more ignoring it, no more anxieties. He knocks on his sister’s bedroom door, just down the hall from where their fateful fight had occurred, and waits with bated breath for her to open it. If she’s not in there, then his whole plan is turned upside down, but whatever. He tried, and that’s enough. It should be enough.

It takes a second, but Gem does peak through the doorway a minute later, her green eyes uncertain. “Hey.” She says, clearly a little more than hesitant. On a good note for this, she doesn’t hide behind her door for long, and fully opens it. So they can be properly face to face.

“Hey.” Fwhip parrots, standing there for a second, dumbly. The words almost dry up in his throat, and the urge to run away from all this is very strong. But he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t run, he stands his ground and forces his voice to stay steady as he talks. “I'm sorry…for yelling at you, and calling your magic stupid.” This isn’t the Ocean, he’s not there anymore, he doesn’t have to grab Jimmy and run from things neither of them can seem to fix. He can fix this. They can fix this. “I know it's really impressive and you love doing it so…I'm sorry.” 

Gem blinks at him a bit, processing his words. She probably just expected another stilted conversation, one that ended without even fixing anything. But, as she’d told him once, Fwhip was kinda full of surprises. He was never the best at apologizing anyways, but he hopes that one can suffice. He hopes that the fact that he tried means enough.

“And I know how much your inventions mean to you, so I'm sorry for calling them dumb.” The young wizard says, after a moment of turning the words around in her head. She sounds unsure, but her brother always knows when it's genuine and when it’s fake. Gem isn’t good at proper apologies either, anyways. “And for calling you a dickhead.” 

Fwhip feels a small laugh bubble up from his throat, as he recalls his past attitude from the past month and a half, and what he’d just said to the Ocean Queen a few days before. “You weren't really wrong there, but thanks.” 

After a moment of silence, and a small giggle from Gem, the future Count speaks again. He asks the question that arguably scared him the most going into this, and finds himself very relieved at the answer. “Are we…cool now?”

“Yeah, we're cool.” Gem says, a small smile starting to form on her face. It’s a little somber, but it's the first time she’s smiled at him in over a month, so the half dragon will gladly take it. “I'll try to be a better sister from now on.”

“O-okay.” Fwhip stammers, and doesn’t know why that gets him so much. He doesn’t know why that almost makes him cry, but tears do start to prick at the corner of his eyes. Fwhip blinks them away, right as Gem crashes straight into his chest.

“I missed you, you big idiot.” She huffs, hugging him. She’s hidden her face in his coat, and Fwhip remembers again, He remembers Jimmy, just like this not even a week ago, and his sister doing the same thing when they were much younger. The half dragon hugs her back tightly, and slightly wonders when he became the comfort guy.

“I missed you too…” He mumbled, wings covering both of them. “I’ll try to be a better brother, too.” He rests his head on top of hers, barely noticing the strange absence of her wizard hat. Gem just makes a sound, and drags them both into her room, managing to kick the door shut in the process. The twins need time to be emotional in private, instead of letting the whole manor walk by and overhear their conversation.

They end up on Gem’s bed just….laying there, after a good cry or two from the both of them of course. They chat about what’s been going on with each of them for the past few weeks, about anything and everything that comes to mind. It’s really nice, just laying next to his sister again, exiting near each other. He missed her, a lot more than he let himself think about over the last few weeks.

“I was messaging Jimmy earlier.” Gem hums, their sides pressed together. She had a book in her hands at one point, fiddling with pages as their conversations dragged on, fell off, then restarted all over again. But now she seems content just to lay next to her brother, the book long forgotten somewhere else on her stupidly big bed.

Fwhip feels his ears prick up in surprise, He didn’t think the forge was giving out communicators to other empires yet, but he hadn’t been home in a while. A lot could happen in just a month, after all, even when he wasn’t there. (Hell, his seaside trip had proved just what could happen in a month, really.) “He got his communicator?”

“Yeah, they sent it over a day ago I think. I wanted to help him set it up.” Gem explains, her fingers drumming against her purple bed sheets, something she does when there’s a lot on her mind. “He said you guys got closer when I asked about the visit.” 

“Yeah.” Fwhip says, his tone going heavy. He flicks his eyes up towards the ceiling, and a frown stretches across his face involuntarily.

Gem sees the way his face falls, and Fwhip knows her brows have furrowed without even looking over at her. “What did you two talk about..?”

“It's not my place to say but…..you can ask him.” Fwhip says, his thoughts being rather damp once again. He wants Gem to know all that stuff, since she’s decently close with the cod, but won’t reveal more than he’s comfortable with. “But basically his mom sucks and I really fucking hate her.” 

“Oh dear.” Gem says, instantly pulling her communicator out from her robe, presumably to message Jimmy instantly. Which makes sense. Based of Fwhip’s words and body language, the wizard knows she should be very concerned about what was talked about, and what’s been going on in that Ocean. Part of Fwhip wishes he’d remained oblivious to it, kinda, but most of him is glad he knows now. Most of him is glad he can now help.

“ Oh dear indeed.” The half dragon says, copying his sister and pulling out his own communicator. When he opens it, there’s a message from Jimmy, one sent twenty minutes ago. Briefly, before he opens it, he wonders if it’s something horrible and serious. He fears his previous actions made everything worse for the cod, and is hit with a massive wave of relief when that’s not the case, and it’s something more normal and mundane. 

SolidarityGaming: this is jimmy, gem gave me your username thingy

SolidarityGaming: add me back asshole

fWhip: okay jeez

fWhip: also tf is ur name????

SolidarityGaming: I didn't know what else to put okay

fWhip: of course  

The conversation ends there, Fwhip having to hold back a snort. Of course Jimmy had picked a really dumb name, instead of just using his real one. Of course. He was so dumb like that. (No, the half dragon was not thinking that fondly, what in the word are you talking about. He would never be fond over a fish, never in a million years. The hugging today doesn’t count either, because Jimmy was sad. That’s all, no other reason.)

He spares a glance at Gem, and sees his sister is still on her own communicator. By what he can see, she’s still messaging Jimmy. Probably about what Fwhip directed her to earlier. And, with all due respect to the guy, he’s too emotionally spent to relive all that again, even in digital form. Almost a month of it had been more than enough for once lifetime, and Fwhip is sure he’ll get to see more of the cod’s problems as the years trudge on.

The half dragon rests his head on Gem’s shoulder, deciding just to rest for once, and let the sounds of her typing lull him to sleep for the night. They haven’t shared a room, let alone a bed, since they were pretty little, so this was nice. And it helps him miss her less, especially when rings wrap around both of them in a protective little cocoon.

Things aren’t better between them, and their problems are very far from solved, but that doesn’t matter for now. All that matters is that they've made up, and they’re going to try and be better the best way they can. All that matters is that Gem can give her sleeping brother a fond look in between messages with Jimmy, and that they’re talking again. All that matters is that the twins are okay, for now at least, they’re okay.