#also. getting back in character now imagine all that with a hash in front like a python comment

[butchnavi]

Mike Wazowski is the little green one from Monsters Inc! He also appears in Monsters University and has brief cameos in the spin off series, Monsters at Work. Mike is his nickname, his actual name is Michael. His best friend is James P. Sullivan, better known as Sully (the blue and purple tall one). Mike is not good at being scary, but he is good at being funny. This is a plot point in the movie. His species is unknown. His partner's name is Celia Mae, who also works at Monster's Inc. Mike has a surprising number of adversaries.

sorry i only know one mike w.

[winchestergirl2]

I really enjoyed the horse riding (imagine getting taught to right by Beau 😍). Also, I really liked how it was an opportunity for them to get to know a little more about each other.

I'm also tired of being afraid of what I can't control.

I feel her on this!

It just made him wonder what he was doing here with you. Was it just because he knew you were having a hard time, and he wanted to cheer you up? Was it because you were Denise’s family? Or was it because…he just wanted to see more of you?

I would imagine that it's a combination of all three. Beau is a sweetheart and would absolutely want to cheer her up, especially as she is Denise’s family. However, if he's being completely honest with himself, I think it will largely be the last one!

At this point, he wouldn’t exactly consider himself a catch.

Aww, Beau honey, you absolutely are a catch.

“I just…I still feel so damn stupid,” you muttered, wiping under your eyes.  

I can relate to that one!

I like the pacing of this it feels realistic, slowly revealing bits about their past without over sharing to someone that you haven't known very long.

The man was #1 on Beau’s punch list, and it was only getting longer.

No surprise, Avery is number 1 on that list.Is the douchecanoe (love that phrase) Michael on his punch list now, too?

Haha, Denise and Cassie picking up on his not too subtle enquiry and his reaction to finding out she's coming back!

She could be a strong, even-keeled kid, mature for her age, but Denise saw the rare vulnerability in the girl’s eyes.

Ah, yes, the duality of Emily's character on the one hand she is sensible and mature for her age, but on the other hand, she is still a young teenager with everything that goes along with that.

That’s where Michael tried to corner you to hash out what would’ve been yet another argument, at the burial of all things. You had to restrain yourself from making a scene in front of Mary’s entire grieving family, as well as yours.

Urgh... really?! Guy really can't take no for an answer and move on can he? Why would he feel the need to act like that there?

Ooo early morning texts from the Sheriff and an invite out for drinks - what a good way to start the day.

Aw, I like the idea of the art lessons and the bonding session she and Emily had. You've managed to capture Emily so well I can hear her voice as I'm reading their conversation. And it's interesting getting her perspective on everything.

Oh, agreeing to be a guest on Em's podcast... that could be interesting (especially if Beau joins in 😉).

The more you thought about it, the more interesting it might be to see Beau answer some of those kinds of questions. It wasn’t at all because you were curious about the man yourself…

Oh, of course not 😉😂

Cassie whistled lowly when she saw you walk into the bar from her seat in one of the booths. She smiled and nudged Beau, whose face slackened when he saw you. 

God help him, you were sexy as hell in black.

Oh, Beau's in trouble here. I can just picture his reaction.

“It sure doesn’t,” Jenny agreed. The women laughed and clinked their drinks together, leaving Beau with a warming face under his beard. He once again chuckled, conceding defeat. 

Hahaha... Oh Beau, there was no chance you were going to win against those three!

Aww Jenny...

He likes her

That's got to be hard for her to watch

“He deserves something good,” Jenny said. Her smile was a bit more genuine this time. Cassie nodded in agreement.

But she's conceding gracefully.

Wait, what?! Michael! Why is he here? Should have known he would crop up after the trip to Chicago. He seems just the type to do something like this!

Take Me Home - Part 4

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Ready for a riding lesson? 😏

Song Inspo: “Sunshine on My Shoulders” by John Denver

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, and a cliffhanger...

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 4: A Past & Future Thing

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look. He was sitting all calm and natural on his own horse, a chestnut brown beauty of a stud. Apparently, his name was Clyde. You were riding his brother Dale, who was supposed to be the older, gentler of the two.

Beau was right next to you, since he was the one holding the reins. You two were still just a little way off from the stable as he guided your horse with his, letting you just get a feel for the ride.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that animals can sense our vibes,” he said, giving you a look that tipped his Stetson forward. “So if you just take a few deep breaths, I promise you, it’ll get easier.”

You met Beau’s gaze. You didn’t know if it was the smooth, steady tone of his voice or the sincerity in his eyes, but you did as he advised. You made the effort of exhaling slowly, and you began to relax.

“Okay,” he nodded with a smile. Then he gestured ahead. “Now, look forward for me. Try not to look at his hooves, though I know they’re pretty.”

He teased a smile out of you as you did what he said, casting your gaze up ahead to the horizon. It was a beautiful day. A wide expanse of terrain laid out ahead of you, with green grass mottled with some brown, and a weather-beaten trail clearly carved by horses and lessons given.  

“And like I told you,” he added, “Try not to squeeze so hard with your legs, or he’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.” 

You blushed, and relaxed your thighs enough so you were just supporting yourself on the horse, not giving yourself a leg cramp. 

“Okay, I think you’re ready for me to let go. Wanna keep going on your own?” Beau suggested. 

You were wary, but you tentatively nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you sure?” Beau asked. Again, his eyes met yours. “I’ll keep guiding you the whole way if you want. Either way, I’ve gotcha.”

You swallowed down a bit of nerves. “Yeah?”

He smiled, and you noticed how it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Trust me,” he said. “You’re not gonna fall on my watch.”

Warmth coiled its way around your heart. You let out another deep breath, and you agreed to have him hand over the reins to you. You were nervous at first, but Beau reminded you of how to guide Dale with subtle movements.

The old horse plodded forward without incident. When you gave Beau a triumphant look, that answering grin of his warmed you down to your toes. The two of you rode together more as companions while making your way across the grassy plain.

“So of all the things, why’d you wanna learn to ride a horse?” Beau asked.

“Because it terrified me,” you replied honestly. “I love animals, don’t get me wrong. Riding one though? They’re unpredictable…but I’m also tired of being afraid of what I can’t control.”

Beau nodded. He could certainly understand that.

Together, you traveled up a roaming hill. Once you reached the peak, you marveled at the view. The afternoon sun was bright and golden above the mountains and the distant line of trees.

Meanwhile, Beau glanced at you. You’d gotten more confident and comfortable in what you were doing, and it was endearing to see. You were cute, he could admit. Beautiful, as a matter of fact. You had the sun shining in your eyes, and on your hair getting tousled by the chilly breeze.

You also seemed to have a kind heart. He’d seen it in just how hard your friend’s death had hit you. He saw it again when he helped you move into your apartment. He saw the joy you took in cooking dinner for all of them after a long-ass day, even though you could’ve just ordered a pizza.

It was the little things, he thought, and the more he saw of you, the more he liked.

That thought also made his heart twinge, and not in a good way. Carla reared up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was more with annoyance or guilt at this point, but she’d moved on a hell of a long time before he had anyway. (Beau could admit that point, just to himself.)

It just made him wonder what he was doing here with you. Was it just because he knew you were having a hard time, and he wanted to cheer you up? Was it because you were Denise’s family? Or was it because…he just wanted to see more of you?

“You don’t get this view in the city, huh?” Beau asked. 

“You do not,” you replied. Your smile grew, making his do the same without him realizing.

Inside though, he wanted to shake his head at himself. You were a bit younger than him. Maybe not by all that much, in the grand scheme of things, but he was in his mid-forties, divorced with a sixteen-year-old daughter, and a somewhat unpredictable, occasionally dangerous job. At this point, he wouldn’t exactly consider himself a catch.

You were also dealing with a complicated past of your own. You’d been through a lot, especially in the past couple of weeks.

And yet, Cassie’s probing questions circled through his mind, invading his thoughts every time he found himself looking your way. 

Your face slowly dimmed. “Next week is Mary’s funeral. I’m going back home for a few days.”

Beau processed that with a nod, but he could guess why you looked worried. 

“And your ex?” he asked.

“He’s going to be there for sure. We were all close.” A deep breath rushed out of you. You peeled your eyes away from the view and looked over at him. “God help me, I don’t want to go home…does that make me a bad person?”

“Nah, I get it,” he said. He regarded you with more weight in his gaze. “But this guy. Is he the aggressive type?”

“No,” you assured. Then more wryly, “He’s only dangerous to my mental health.”

You contemplated that reality for a moment, and you shook your head.

“You know how I found out about what he was doing?” you asked. “He sent me a Happy Birthday text…a spicy one, you could say. But it wasn’t my birthday.” 

“Damn,” Beau said, grimacing in sympathy. 

You tried not to, but you began tearing up. Beau wanted to brush them from your cheek as he drew closer on his horse. Instead, he settled a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said, quiet and placating. “I’m thinking you’ve cried enough over this.”

“I just…I still feel so damn stupid,” you muttered, wiping under your eyes.  

“What, are you a Professor of Cheatin’ Bastards too?” Beau quipped. You smiled reluctantly.

“That’s not funny,” you complained. 

He flashed you a grin and allowed himself to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear when a breeze of wind blew it into your face.

“Come on. You know I’m funny,” he teased, but then, he became more serious. “It’s not your fault. Trust me, I know something about being the problem, and it’s not on you.”

Both your interest and concern were piqued.

“You and Carla?” you asked. “You’re telling me it was all on you?”

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau said. His eyes lowered, along with his hand from your arm. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

Let’s just say, you contemplated. That seemed to be his favorite catchphrase.

You didn’t know if you altogether believed that. He was going to grief counseling for a reason. You wanted to ask why, more than anything, but you also didn’t want to press him on something if he didn’t want to talk about it. If he felt comfortable enough with you, someday, maybe he’d open up to you. 

So after a few minutes of savoring the view, and the moment, you returned to town together.

A few days later, Beau still had a bad feeling about Avery.

His company was being investigated by the SEC and was threatening to go under. Apparently, Avery had made “friends” with Luke on the trip, who according to Avery, let it slip that he and Paige had $15 million in cryptocurrency.

The passcode to that $15 million account was missing. Beau had more than half a mind to think Avery had made a play for it during that camping trip. Carla hadn’t known her new husband’s company was being investigated. She’d put her foot down with Avery about the lying, at least.

As a result, Beau’s only consolation in all this was that she and Emily were back in their house, while Avery was living out of a hotel in town. Beau might not be able to pin him for the stolen crypto right now, but he knew where to look for Avery when the evidence came.

The man was #1 on Beau’s punch list, and it was only getting longer.

Instead of letting those thoughts fester, he decided to actually take his lunch break, and go check in on his daughter. Denise and Cassie told him she was doing well as their summer intern.

Emily seemed to be enjoying her time helping the private investigators. She showed him her small workstation beside Denise’s desk, where she was organizing old and new files, inputting the hard copies into digital ones on Cassie’s spare laptop. Emily was also helping out with some database research on existing cases.

Satisfied that she was helping out, but wasn’t doing anything too close to actual police work, Beau took the opportunity to lean over to Denise and discreetly ask about you.

Namely, how you were doing, and if you’d called her from Chicago. He managed to hold himself from asking when you were coming back to Montana, at least.

Denise still gave him a certain smile.

“Yeah, she called yesterday. She’s coming back today actually,” she replied. “I’m planning to pick her up in a few hours.”

Beau’s lips twitched at a smile, and he nodded. “Good. That’s uh…that’s good. Tell her I said ‘welcome home.���”

Denise and Cassie shared a look, one that drew even Emily’s attention. She shot her dad a glance and noted the dumb smile on his face. One that he tucked away when he met Emily’s gaze.

“Anyway, looks like you’re doing all right here. You’re coming to stay with me tomorrow, right?” he asked her.

“Yeah, sure,” Emily agreed.

“Okay, kiddo. See ya then,” Beau said. He gave her a hug and kiss to the side of the head. Though she gave him a hug back, she watched with a bit of suspicion after he said goodbye to Cassie and Denise, strolling out the door like he was making some kind of escape.

The adults again shared a look of mutual understanding. Then Cassie smiled and grabbed her work bag.

“All right. I’ll be back in a bit. Need to check on a few leads,” she said.

After Emily and Denise waved her off, the latter made some tea and returned with a mug each for her and Emily. Denise reclaimed the seat behind her desk, but she turned towards the girl beside her.

“So, hun, how’re you doing?” Denise asked. “I mean, I know you’ve gone through a lot these past couple weeks, and we’re happy to give you a little distraction here. But are you okay?”

Emily bit her lip and turned her rolling chair towards Denise. She had to take some time with her answer. Ever since coming back from that camp, she didn’t know if she’d really answered that question honestly—not for her mom, or her dad.

“Well, on one hand, Mom kicked Avery out. Or, I guess he kicked himself out,” she said. “On the other hand, my mom and dad are getting along better than they have since before the divorce, so…there’s that.”

Emily rested her elbow on the desk in front of her, head in hand. Denise gave her a sympathetic half-smile.

“I don’t hate Avery,” Emily admitted. “I actually like him a lot. He made Mom happy again. But would it be nice if she and my dad…if we could be a family again? I mean, yeah.”

Denise was patient as she listened. She tried to keep her true thoughts on the matter inside as you came to mind, though she pushed all that into the background in order to give Emily her undivided attention. 

“At the same time, I don’t know,” Emily shrugged. “My dad’s a great person, but he’s not good at letting people in. I don’t think Mom could go through that again.”

“Go through what?” Denise asked. 

“The way my dad shut us out, after what happened to his partner,” Emily explained. Her face went from slightly sad, to wry. “Okay, yeah, my mom’s not the most patient person. But Dad still doesn’t talk about it, not even to Mom. Or to me.”

Denise had heard some small thing about Beau’s former partner from you, and even Jenny, but she didn’t know the specifics there. All she knew was it laid at the heart of Beau and Carla’s divorce.

“Well, he’s your dad,” Denise said with a sigh. “He wants to protect you, even if that means protecting you from himself.”

“Sure, okay, but he doesn’t have to though. Not all the time,” Emily said.

She could be a strong, even-keeled kid, mature for her age, but Denise saw the rare vulnerability in the girl’s eyes.

“Sometimes I wish he’d just talk to me,” Emily said. Her eyes fell away.

Denise’s heart broke for the girl. Not knowing what else to say, she scooched her chair forward and pulled Emily into a warm hug.

By the time Denise picked you up from the airport and dropped you off at your apartment, you were beyond exhaustion. Coming home from a week in your hometown in Chicago left you feeling drained. Physically, emotionally, down to your toes.

At least you were home.

It was a surprising feeling—the feeling that this was your home now. Already it felt real.

Seeing your ex will do that to you.

“So how was it?” Denise asked. She’d graciously made you dinner as well, so you didn’t have to cook or worry about eating out. You two sat on the couch in your living room while some romcom played in the background.

“Everything I thought it would be,” you replied, around a mouthful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You let out a heavy sigh.

It had been good to see your parents, you explained, and you’d finally been able to give your condolences to Mary’s parents in person—at the funeral.

That’s where Michael tried to corner you to hash out what would’ve been yet another argument, at the burial of all things. You had to restrain yourself from making a scene in front of Mary’s entire grieving family, as well as yours.

Denise shook her head. “That guy ain’t got an iota of shame.”

You snorted. “You’re telling me?!”

You shook your head and speared at your green beans with your fork. You couldn’t even mourn your friend in peace, for God’s sake.

“Did your parents try to get you to stay longer?” she asked.

Again, you scoffed. “Oh, yeah. They actually tried to use Mary’s death to get me to think Helena was more dangerous than Chicago.”

While you’d understood their point to an extent, your home city still maintained one of the worst crime rates in the U.S.

“Still think you made the right decision?” Denise asked. “Whatever’s in your heart about it, just know that I’m so happy to have you here.”

She took your free hand and squeezed. You managed to smile, if just a little.

“Yeah. I think so,” you replied.

Chicago would always have a place in your heart, but for better or worse, this was your new start. And you were taking it.

You woke up the next morning to a shiny new text message. Still bleary-eyed, you unlocked your phone, and you just had to smile.

It was from Beau Arlen, you were pleasantly surprised to find.

Hey there. Heard you were back in town. (Welcome home, by the way.) Just wanted to let you know that me, Cassie, and Jenny are hitting a bar tonight after shift. You’re welcome to join in. Say around 8?

Without even really thinking about it, you typed out your reply:

Sure! I’ll be there. (And thanks very much. It’s nice to know the county sheriff rolls out the welcome mat for all of Helena’s returning citizens.)

You got up and started your day. You were midway through brushing your teeth when your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Your lips curved into a smirk when you read Beau’s reply.

Sounds good. (And I’m happy to oblige. 😉)

You shouldn’t have been blushing at such a simple message, but it set off the butterflies regardless. You huffed and set down your toothbrush.

Damn it.

You were in trouble.

With such a nice start to your morning, you were smiling all the way into town. The place you were headed to was just down the street of Dewell & Hoyt, so you knew you had to stop in just to say hello. There you found Denise and Emily.

“Did you have a good trip?” Emily asked, after you let her go from a hug. You gave your aunt one next.

“It was…good,” you replied, with a sigh. “Mary’s at rest now.”

Your eyes stung at the thought, but you tried to blink past it, taking in a breath to steady yourself. While Denise rubbed your back, Emily squeezed your arm in comfort, leading you to give her a smile. She was a sweet girl.

“What brings you over?” Denise asked.

You shook your head to come back to yourself. You showed them the large bag you carried on your shoulder. It was full of your painting supplies.

“Well, I’m actually headed to an art studio just down the street. I looked up the lessons they were offering this week, and apparently today it’s painting on glass. Like a bowl, or a mug, or a little stained glass window. They’ve got different options.”

Emily looked intrigued. “Ooh, that sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” you said, raising a brow. “You’re welcome to come with me if you want. Unless my aunt can’t spare you, or you’d rather not. It’s fine.”

There was no pressure to your offer, but you remembered Emily being somewhat interested in your painting endeavors while on the camping trip. With everything the girl had been going through, you thought maybe she’d like something creative and fun to try to get her mind off things. You knew it was doing the same for you.

“No, that would be fun, I guess,” said Emily. She looked to Denise in askance, who waved a dismissive hand. 

“It’s okay, hun. Take the afternoon off,” she said. “I’ve got things here.”

Emily smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You and Emily ventured together right down the street to the art studio. You paid for the $40 entrance fee each for you and Emily into the class.

You could see that she felt uncomfortable with that when you two took your seats near the back of the studio. It was pretty full, and neither of you wanted to be right at the front, preferring to hang out more chill-like in the back.

There at each long table was an easel each, after you chose what kind of glass you wanted to paint on. Emily chose a funky looking bowl, while you chose a rectangular piece of wood-framed glass.

“I’ll pay you back,” Emily said, once you two were comfortable in your respective seats. You waved her off.

“It’s okay, honey. I invited you,” you said. Then you gave her a conspiring look. “Here’s my rule of thumb, especially on dates, for example. The person who invites you should shell out.”

Emily smiled. “That makes sense to me.”

You saw the gears in her mind turning, and it reminded you of her little “summer project.” She’d told you about it a couple of times on that camping trip.

“How’s your podcast going?” you asked. The girl sighed; she chose a brush and started painting blue stripes across her glass bowl.

“Slow,” she admitted. “I’m lacking interesting subjects.”

You hummed at that. “Maybe you need a guest to help kick things off.”

Emily smiled at that. She turned to you with a gleam of excitement.

“Would you do it?” she asked.

Your mouth fell open in surprise. “Me? I think I’d be too boring. Isn’t your podcast about relationships?”

“Well, yeah, but that was a good bit you just had,” she said. “Who pays on a date?”

You thought about it with another hum of contemplation. Suddenly you could start to see the potential in her idea. You still didn’t want to be a subject of inquiry, but you didn’t want to dim her spark either.

“Well, it would be fun if you got a man’s perspective too,” you said.

Emily brightened. Finally, someone who cared about her side project. 

“What about Dad?” she said. “He’s a guy.”

You chuckled. “Well, yes.” 

Though you wondered about the last time he’d been on a date since his divorce, or if he even was dating right now. 

The more you thought about it, the more interesting it might be to see Beau answer some of those kinds of questions. It wasn’t at all because you were curious about the man yourself…

“Maybe you’re onto something there,” you said, a smile growing on your face.

“I’ll ask him,” Emily vowed. “Maybe he’ll actually open up for once.”

She sort of muttered that last bit. It caught your attention with a wry brow raise.

“What? Your dad is as chatty as they come,” you said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, about dumb stuff,” she said. “Try to get anything serious out of him. He’s like an old clam.”

A snort of laughter escaped you. “Old clam. That’s nice.”

Though you saw that there was something deeper there for Emily. You’d seen these kinds of moments in some of your students before. Sometimes, they felt comfortable enough with you to share what they were going through at home. In Emily’s case, it seemed like she was hurting about something, maybe for a while now.

You continued painting on your glass project, but you offered her a look of understanding.

“Remember how I told you that my dad used to be a firefighter?” you said. Emily nodded.

“Well, your dad sounds a bit like mine. He’d rather consult a bottle of Jack Daniels than anyone else, really,” you confessed. “He saw a lot of things on the job that were hard. Too hard to explain. Possibly too hard to even work through. It made him…distant, when I was a kid. I don’t think we really connected until I got older.”

And even now, your relationship with him was rocky at best, after he’d suggested you try to work it out with Michael. You and your father hadn’t truly spoken ever since.

You still gave Emily a look of encouragement.

“But, it seems like you and your dad have a better relationship than I did with mine at your age,” you said.

That fell between you both while Emily ruminated in it. She started adding gold strokes to her bowl alongside the blue in swirling patterns, and it was a really nice touch, you told her. She thanked you with a little smile.

“Did my dad tell you that he lost his partner on the job?” she asked.

You sighed. “Yes, he told me some. We didn’t go too deep into it.”

“Well, for a whole year, it was like we barely existed,” she said. “Mom tried to help him. I tried…but I guess he was a lot like your dad.”

Your lips pressed together. You were sad to hear that, but it did remind you of what Beau told you that day, when he took you horseback riding.

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau had said. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

You now nodded in understanding as you hummed. Let’s just say.

“He seems better now,” you remarked. 

“Yeah. He cleaned up when Mom left him,” Emily said. “I guess that’s what it took to snap him out of it.”

You shook your head, and you kept painting.  

You could understand Carla, all too well. It just hurt you, now that you knew what a good man Beau was. Your sympathetic heart said he didn’t deserve to get left behind when he needed his family the most.

However, the more logical part of you knew that sometimes, love just wasn’t enough to keep you tied to someone who didn’t seem to want to help themselves. When it felt like they were giving you no choice.

“Anyway, you’ll be my other guest, right?” Emily asked with a smile. “For the podcast.”

You barely resisted the urge to groan. As much as you preferred not to put yourself out there, you didn’t want to discourage the girl in her project.

“Well…okay. If you get your dad on, I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” you said, your lips forming a grin. You two continued to paint while chatting about Emily’s favorite subjects in school. English, sadly, was not one of them, but you weren’t offended by it. Shakespeare wasn’t for everyone.

“I’m actually meeting your dad for drinks tonight. If you want, I’ll ask him about being on the podcast, try to soften him up for you,” you offered. “Though I’m sure he’ll do it if you asked.”

Emily considered you with a bit more scrutiny. “Are you…seeing my dad?”

“Oh, no,” you said immediately. Just the suggestion had your cheeks warming. “Cassie and Jenny will be there too. It’s nothing like that.”

“Sure,” Emily said. She gave an awkward laugh. 

“Really, Em. He and I are just friends,” you promised. 

Even if that thought stung a little.

Despite what you told Emily, you did put a fair amount of effort into your appearance to meet your new friends that night for drinks.

You even put on your favorite red lipstick with some dark wash jeans, a black pair of ankle boots, and a black lace top to match, complete with off-the-shoulder sleeves. 

Cassie whistled lowly when she saw you walk into the bar from her seat in one of the booths. She smiled and nudged Beau, whose face slackened when he saw you. 

God help him, you were sexy as hell in black. 

Black lace, he corrected himself. Your hair was a bit wild and teased out. The flash of red was a pleasant surprise, momentarily drawing his eyes to your lips. He felt the back of his neck heat up, but he tried to hide it all behind a friendly smile. He found himself sliding out of the booth to hug you in greeting. 

Goddamn, she smells good too, he thought. Was that your perfume, or your shampoo? Whatever it was, he liked it more than was good for him.

He managed to let you go though, and he grinned at your somewhat shy smile. You moved on to greet Cassie next, then Jenny, before you slid into the booth next to her and across from Beau and Cassie. 

“How was Chicago?” Jenny asked. It brought the mood down some. You gave a true smile, however tinged with melancholy. It was still very difficult to talk about Mary, but since everyone at the table knew the full story, it was easier to be honest.

“Chicago was needed. It was good, in a way. I got to lay her to rest,” you replied. “But I’m glad to be back.”

“Glad to have you back,” Cassie said. She passed you a tequila shot. 

“Ooh, nice.” You weren’t usually one for hard liquor, but tonight, you thought you could let yourself go a little. You downed the shot in one. 

“Eyy, good job,” Beau said, raising his whiskey with a wink. You laughed in slight embarrassment and wiped the corner of your mouth.

While Cassie called over the closest server to get them started with some appetizers for the table, you turned to Beau.

“You know, I did a painting class with Emily today,” you told him. “She did great! Has a nice little bowl to put her jewelry in.”

He raised his brows, smiling. “Is that so? What do you know. My little girl’s a budding artist. Is she gonna go all broody and steal even more of my vinyl?”

You shook your head in amusement.

“She’s a teenager. They don’t need any excuses to be broody,” Jenny remarked.

“Fair enough,” Beau chuckled.  

“Actually, she asked me to be on her podcast,” you said. “She wanted to see if you’d join in for a segment.”

The man looked uncertain at that. You understood his reservations, because you had the same ones. Cassie and Jenny looked amused by the idea of him getting recorded and put on social media by his sixteen-year-old.

“Look, I know, but she just wants to ask us a few questions,” you said. “Like who should pay on a date, that sort of thing.”

Beau rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands. The humor in his green eyes shone under the soft gold lamplight.

“Well, that’s easy. I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said. “I wouldn’t feel right letting a woman pay for me.”

You tilted your head in interest. A smile started to play on your lips as you leaned forward on your folded arms.

“Huh. Well, I think whoever asks the person out should pay,” you posed. “That doesn’t necessarily mean the man pays every time.”

Beau’s lips twitched, but there was a subtle shake of his head.

“I don’t know. That just doesn’t sit right with me for some reason,” he said. 

You turned to Jenny and Cassie for some support, and they both gave Beau an unimpressed look.

“You mean to tell me you wouldn’t let me pay for my own drinks?” you asked. “I have a job. I make money, same as you.”

At that, Beau chuckled. “Hey now, I didn’t say you couldn’t pay for your own. But you’re certainly not paying for mine.”

“So in your world, I can’t ever treat my man if I want to?” you challenged.

“What, you mean to tell me you don’t like getting spoiled?” Beau countered.

When you smiled, it had an amused, almost flirtatious edge that began to make him hot under the collar. 

“Occasionally, sure I do,” you replied. “But then again, who doesn’t like getting spoiled now and again?”

“Doesn’t have to be about who pays either,” Cassie interjected. 

“It sure doesn’t,” Jenny agreed. The women laughed and clinked their drinks together, leaving Beau with a warming face under his beard. He once again chuckled, conceding defeat. 

Conversation spiraled from there, in which Jenny mentioned something about her and Beau’s latest finished case about Brett, a skydiving, former firefighter’s murder.

It was a coverup for a larger scheme within his old firehouse—where firefighters had been looting homes after they’d been cleared out of a fire. Brett’s friend had been killed on one of those jobs, and not by accident either.

“That’s awful,” you said with a frown, once she finished explaining.

Against your will, it made you think of your ex-fiancé, Michael. He was still an active firefighter. While he had been a shitty boyfriend, at the very least you’d never had reason to question his integrity as a first responder.

“Yeah, it was hard on the father too. He’s the unit chief, and the whole operation was happening on his watch,” Beau said. “One of his own firefighters killed his son. It’s damn near unthinkable.”

Beau’s mood had shifted the moment Jenny brought up this case, you noticed. He was staring mostly into his half-empty whiskey glass, as if contemplating a refill.

“We said we wouldn’t talk shop tonight,” Cassie said. She seemed to notice his downshift as well. She got up out of her seat in the booth. “Let me get the next round. Another tequila?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. You’d probably pace yourself this time.  

“Not for me, I’m good with this,” Beau said. 

He held that whiskey between his hands, and you were glad that he was going slow. Your conversation with Emily about his own bout with grief and loss was still fresh in your mind. While your heart broke for him, you were also a little worried for him. Had this latest case opened up some old wounds?

“I’ll go with you,” Jenny said. You slid out of the booth so Jenny could as well. It left you and Beau to talk, while Jenny and Cassie went up to the bar together.

Cassie tried to get the bartender’s attention, but she glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Why?” Jenny replied. But she wasn’t meeting Cassie’s gaze. She was watching you and Beau, almost in melancholy.

Cassie’s brows furrowed as she realized what was happening. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before, considering both of their professions. 

“Aw, Jenny…” Cassie breathed. She wondered just how long her friend had been harboring some feelings for Beau Arlen.

Knowing she was “caught,” Jenny gave a wry smile.

“Don’t. It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly. “He likes her.”

Cassie sighed. “I think so. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“He deserves something good,” Jenny said. Her smile was a bit more genuine this time. Cassie nodded in agreement.

“So does she, after what she’s gone through.”

“So how are you doing?” you asked Beau. It was the first time you’d been alone with this man since that horse riding lesson last week, and part of you was feeling a bit nervous.

Just friends, like you told Emily. You had to remind yourself. Just friends…until evidence points to the contrary.

At your question, Beau heaved a sigh, running a hand over his face. Suddenly he looked more tired than he did before. The laugh lines around his eyes looked more like the telltale signs of stress.

“Well, first off, we found the missing backpacker,” he said. “It seems the poor young man fell down a cliff while hiking.”

Your brows furrowed and you covered your mouth with a hand. “Oh my God.”

Beau nodded in grim confirmation. His gaze met yours.

“But I also wanted to tell you this in person when you got back. I’ve also got a silver lining on our mountain man, Walter,” he continued. “He confessed to murdering Paige. He’s keeping tight-lipped about Mary and Luke, but we’ve got him dead set to rights on at least one of the murders.”

You processed that with a shaky breath. Then you nodded.

“We’re gonna keep working on him from every angle, I promise,” Beau said. Just like he’d promised you before—that he would get justice for Mary. You believed him.

“Thank you,” you said. Your gaze softened, and you contemplated laying your hand over his on the table. You just barely stopped yourself.

Instead, you cleared your throat and swiped some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Any other news, hot off the press?” you joked, trying to alleviate the heaviness in your heart. Beau quirked a smile. He leaned back in his seat and carded a hand through his hair.

“Ahh. Well…you know I’m investing my ex-wife’s husband,” he said drolly, sipping his whiskey. “And that’s going about as well as it sounds. I can’t get into the details of course…but he might be dealing in something shady.”

Your eyes widened. “Shady, or dangerous?”

Beau realized how he’d let that last bit slip out. He wished he hadn’t. Not only did he not want to worry you, but he didn’t want you anywhere near his open cases.

“I’m keeping close tabs on Carla and Emily just to be safe,” he admitted. 

Your face became the picture of concern. But before you could respond, a man approached the table, tall and lean, with a shaggy cut of dark blonde hair. He wore a pair of faded jeans, boots, and a gray and red Chicago FD shirt. 

Your face paled, and your mouth parted in surprise. 

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with a smile. 

“Michael?” you gasped.

AN: 🫣 Yep, we're going there lol. But how did you like the horseback riding lesson? Or her little day out with Emily? Or the bit of fun at the bar, before Michael showed up?

You'll definitely be seeing more of that guy in Part 5...

Next Time:

“Michael?” you gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Beau’s eyes widened. Michael was younger than him, closer to your age. And cocky too.  

“Hey, baby,” Michael said. His smile quirked with charm, but his next words were anything but charming. 

“We need to talk,” he said, raising his brows.

“We actually don’t,” you retorted in a firmer voice. Cold even. You straightened in your seat. 

Beau saw none of your softness and good humor from earlier. This was a different woman, and he was actually proud of you for standing your ground. Though he realized then that he’d never gotten on your bad side. (He hoped he never did.)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

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[hangovercurse]

Live from New York

You’re hosting SNL and get close with one of the cast members

Request: “hi! can you do something about pete where the reader is hosting snl and throughout the week they’re flirting with each other but she’s unsure if they should date and he convinces her? maybe a combo of fluff/angst/smut? it can be whatever :,)”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to take that long on this one and then I ended up watching an entire documentary on the making of an SNL episode because I wanted to be as accurate as possible… someone stop me pls

Word Count: 2834

Monday

Despite being a swiftly rising actress, you hated being the enter of attention. You’d always gotten anxious as a kid when a teacher made you stand in front of the class for presentations or during first-day introductions. So being front and center in a room of 30 people who were all there to study and try to impress you was not something you found pleasant.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You spoke timidly to the crowded room, people clapping from their spots on the floor or various couches around the room, “it’s great to be here.”

Lorne cleared his throat, “alright, let’s start with you, Anna.”

You looked around the room as a young woman pitched the first sketch of the night, listening intently to her ideas while trying to match faces with the names Lorne had given you earlier. Then your eyes locked with a pair of deep brown ones, the man wearing a soft smile on his face. He radiated gentle energy despite the tattoos you could see running down his arms.

The pitches continued with an air of lightheartedness and fun. You found nearly everything funny, so you couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were going to cut any of the sketch pitches.

After a lull in ideas, Lorne announced that cast members could now pitch ideas for Weekend Update character appearances. The man you’d taken an interest in earlier, who you’d since learned was named Pete Davidson, pitched a new set of characters for you and him.

“You know those weird stoner kids in high school who were always hanging out in the parking lot and acted really weird and mysterious? Those characters who just give really vague answers to anything you ask and act like they’ve seen some shit when they have the most normal home lives.”

You giggled, knowing the exact kinds of kids he was talking about. Colin and Michael also chuckled, writing the idea down with some notes of their own. Soon after that, everyone went back to pitching regular sketches, Jost and Che pitching an unusual number of sketches featuring you and Pete.

After a few long hours, the session wrapped; everyone leaving the office space except for you and Lorne, “so, what did you think?”

You chuckled lightly, “you have some seriously talented people on this show, Mr. Michaels. I don’t understand how you guys write an entire show every week.”

“We all work very hard; I’ll tell you that. Now, talk to me. Anything you really liked or really hated?”

You shrugged, “you’re the comedy mastermind, I know nothing. But I thought that weird kids from high school bit was pretty funny.”

Lorne nodded, “So did Jost and Che it seems. Sometimes the kid has a good idea.” You giggled at his reference to Pete as “the kid.” He sighed, “anything else? I noticed you liked that proposal sketch.”

“Yeah, that one was super funny. I will say, I wasn’t too in love with the dad-teacher one, but I would have no problem with it being done with someone else as the daughter.”

Lorne and you spent the rest of the workday discussing the different sketch ideas that came up and gauging what type of comedy suited you best. Before you left, he introduced you to Donna, your dresser who would be helping you out throughout the week.

Tuesday

After a quick tour of the studio by Donna, you were given a list of cast members and writers who wanted to meet with you to get ideas about sketches. You first stepped into a small room with a desk and futon, Donna introducing you to Chloe Fineman and Celeste Yim.

Chloe smiled brightly at you, “okay, so we were thinking that we could do something where I bring you to a sleepover with some friends that you don’t know. But at some point, you try to go to sleep because you have a soccer tournament in the morning but everyone else is being loud and it turns into this big overdramatic argument.”

You giggled softly, “I love that!”

After writing with them for a while, you were whisked away to room after room, finally landing in Colin Jost and Michael Che’s office, where they were hunched over a computer with Pete.

Colin smiled at you, “hey Y/N, how’s your day been?”

“Busy, how are you guys?”

The men responded with variations of “good,” before Michael spoke, “I know it’s late, so don’t feel obligated to stay longer than you’re comfortable with.”

You shrugged, “what time is it? It doesn’t feel that late.”

Pete laughed, teasing Colin and Michael, “c’mon guys, don’t you know that the young people of New York don’t sleep?”

You giggled in agreement as Colin frowned, “I’m only 38, that’s not that old.”

“I’m only 26, Colin,” you said, laughing at the men.

Michael patted Colin on the shoulder, “Jost, we’re getting old.”

Colin frowned before clearing his throat, “anyways, we had a couple ideas for some sketches with you and Pete, if you’re up for it, and we wanted to hash out your weekend update appearance.”

You smiled and nodded, “yeah, that sounds great.”

The rest of the night (and into the early morning) was spent with the three men, eventually joined by Heidi Gardner and Kyle Mooney to work them into the scripts. A majority of the writing process was simply messing around with various sketch situations until someone found a joke that worked best.

Pete watched you carefully the entire night, doing everything in his power to make you laugh. You had no complaints, doing your best to not openly flirt with him in front of the rest of the cast (and failing quite miserably).

Wednesday

Wednesday was the designated day for the roundtable readthrough. You took a place between Pete and Lorne, who began the reading, “we’ve got 41 sketches so let’s get started.”

The table read was just like any other you’d been through; Lorne wasting no time between sketches to discuss or joke. You struggled with containing your laughter throughout the reading, trying to act professionally. It didn’t help that Pete was making jokes any chance he got, eliciting even more giggles from you.

The three hours seemed to take no time at all as sketch after sketch was read out loud. Every so often you would catch Lorne looking at you with an eyebrow raised, usually after you read one of the sketches with Pete.

After everyone was dismissed, you were led to Lorne’s office with the head writers and producers. There was a large wall covered in sticky notes with each sketch’s name written on one. Lorne turned to you, “what do you think?”

You scanned the wall, listing off some of the sketches that you really liked, though most of them were  great, so you had trouble narrowing them down.

Lorne let out a small laugh, “you guys noticed how she picked out the sketches with Pete in them, too, right?”

Your face went hot, immediately turning to face the ground. Colin and Michael chuckled, “we noticed,” the latter commented.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Y/N, just wanted to point it out to you.” Lorne teased before turning back to the wall and thinking.

You giggled, “you guys suck.”

As embarrassed as you were, your anxiety was surprisingly low. You had been worried about hosting since you got the invite, but the cast and crew had been nothing but kind to you. Even just being able to make jokes like this with the writers made you feel oddly comforted.

You worked on narrowing down which sketches to keep for rehearsals and which ones were going to get cut immediately, a job that was very easy for Lorne but very difficult for you.

Eventually you got it down to enough sketches that Lorne was satisfied and he sent out the list to the cast. He led you out of his office, “you know, you have a real affinity for comedy,” he told you. “I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about sketch comedy, but from that read through you seem to know what you’re doing.”

You blushed slightly, thanking him, “we’ll see if you’re still saying that on Saturday.”

He chuckled, “have a good night.” You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, running into none other than Pete Davidson.

“Hey, you headed out?”

You smiled, “yeah, just got out of my meeting with Lorne. Did you get a chance to look at the revised sketch schedule?”

Pete nodded, walking with you to the door of the theater, “yeah, I noticed you kept a lot of our sketches in there,” he bumped your shoulder, a playful smirk on his face.

A giggle rolled from your lips, “what can I say? We’re funny together.”

He raised an eyebrow, watching as you flagged down your taxi, “whatever you say.”

“Are you complaining about having to work with me?” You asked, opening the door.

He chuckled, “oh yeah. I am just dreading tomorrow.” Sarcasm laced his words, making you laugh.

“Goodnight, Pete.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Thursday

Donna ushered you around all day, making sure you were in the rehearsal space when you needed to be and supporting you from the side. This part of the process came naturally to you, as it was the most similar to rehearsing and filming on movie sets.

When you weren’t rehearsing a scene, you were hanging out with Pete. It was strange how easily you got along, your humors aligning almost perfectly. Not to mention he was a huge flirt and was making it more and more obvious with you. You flirted right back, earning looks of amusement from Lorne throughout the day.

The day was a whirlwind, and by the time you were able to go home, you were exhausted. Pete walked you out to the street again, talking about one of the sketches that went wrong earlier until your taxi pulled up. This time he opened the door for you and helped you inside, “see you tomorrow.”

You smiled up at him, “bright and early.”

Friday

After hours of rehearsing, you plopped onto the couch in Pete’s dressing room, where you had found yourself a home over the past few days, “I don’t know how you guys do this every week. I’ve been here for four days and I’m exhausted.”

Pete chuckled, “to be fair, you’re the host. The key is to try and only get one sketch into the show so that you don’t have to do anything during the week.”

You laughed, letting a comfortable silence fall over you. Pete studied you, taking in your tired appearance, “you’re doing great though, being a host. I’ve seen some people come in and try to take control of everything and then no one has fun. You’re really good at just letting the comedy speak for itself. Not many people do that.”

Shrugging, you responded, “I mean, I’m not a comedian, I’m just an actor. You guys come up with everything. I don’t know enough to try and control things around here, I just do what I can to make your visions come to life. I figured that’s what a host should do.”

Pete nodded, “yeah, but again, a lot of people want their SNL episode to look a certain way. You don’t seem to care.”

“I just want to have fun, honestly.”

He smirked, “are you?”

You looked up to him with a smile on your face, “definitely.”

Suddenly the speaker in the room rang out, “Y/N and Pete to main stage 1.”

Groaning, you lifted yourself from the couch, Pete watching you with amusement, “c’mon Ms. Host, we’ve got a show to rehearse.”

Saturday

The day was hectic; filled with rehearsal after rehearsal. Lorne and Donna made sure that you were comfortable all day, but you could feel the stress radiating from every inch of the studio.

Stronger than that, though, was the sense of excitement buzzing around everyone. You were fit into more costumes than you could count, all leading up to the final dress rehearsal of the night in front of the live studio audience.

Dress ran smoothly, but you could see Lorne cutting lines from sketches from stage out of the corner of your eye. Luckily, Pete distracted you from all the anxious energy. “I know Lorne looks like a psychopath, but that’s just what he does. Everything’s fine, don’t stress about it,” he said over dinner.

You chuckled, “thanks. I feel so out of my league this week.”

“I told you, you’re great. Everyone here loves you. I heard Lorne talking about wanting you back as soon as possible.”

Rolling your eyes, you responded, “yeah right, I’m never gonna do anything big enough to get me on this show again.”

Pete laughed, “you could always make guest appearances with me on the Weekend Update.”

“You aren’t sick of me already?” you joked.

After dinner you were paraded around by Donna, who got you into your style for opening monologue. She smiled at you through your dressing room mirror, “how are you feeling?”

You gave her a nervous smile, “terrified, but ready.”

The lady chuckled, “you’ll do great. I’ll be right offstage if you need anything.”

“Thank you, for everything this week.”

She squeezed your shoulders, “don’t mention it, though if you really want to thank me, go ask that Davidson boy out on a date.”

Your eyes went wide, “Donna!”

A chuckle rang out through the room, “what? I say it for your own good.”

She led you through a maze of hallways and tunnels until you were in place to walk onstage, the speaker announcing your name to the audience followed by cheers.

Exactly 90 minutes later you were gathered with the cast on stage, “thank you to Fletcher, Lorne Michaels, this amazing cast and crew, and thank you all for watching. Goodnight everybody!”

You turned to Pete, who was standing beside you and let him pull you in for a hug, “you did it!” he cheered.

You passed around the cast, giving hugs to as many people as you can before Lorne announced, “that’s a wrap on Y/N Y/L/N and Fletcher!”

Everyone cheered, clapping for you and your musical guest before heading to their dressing rooms to change into their night clothes. You went back to your own dressing room, taking a moment to bask in the feeling of accomplishment.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, “come in!”

Pete entered the room, a wide smile on his face, “congrats!” You let him pull you in for another hug, “so I know that there’s supposed to be this big party after the show, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner instead?”

Your breath got caught in your throat, those words being the last thing you expected to hear from him. Of course, you wanted to say yes because you did, truthfully, really like him. But part of you was hesitant.

You’d dated your fair share of celebrities, and things always ended very publicly and typically poorly. On top of that, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be happening a bit too quick. You started to doubt that he would still have feelings for you in a week since he wouldn’t be around you nearly all the time.

And then there was the issue of your insane work schedules. Having just lived through his, you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep a relationship like that.

“Pete, I think you’re amazing and I really like you, I just-“

Pete nodded his head, cutting you off, “I know we only met like a couple of das ago, but people go on dates with literal strangers all the time.”

You sighed, “it’s not that, Pete, it’s just that…” you paused, searching for words, “things like this tend to be very public with me, and I really don’t want to have a relationship where there’s all this pressure by the media to be perfect.”

He shrugged, “I get that, but it’s just dinner. And we can go somewhere quiet and private, no one has to know. And if things go further then we’ll just keep it on the down low until you’re ready. Trust me, I know what a public relationship is like, I’m not a huge fan either.”

“Yeah, but what about your work schedule. I mean, I’ve only lived in your world for six days and I want to sleep for a month. How do you even hold a relationship on this schedule?”

Pete moved closer to you, fingers grazing your arm, “we can make it work. I promise. Just give me one date, and if it’s not the best first date of your life, you have no further obligations to me.”

You giggled lightly, leaning into his touch, “I’m only saying yes because you’re kinda cute.”

He smiled down at you, eyes twinkling, I’ll take it.”

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

���I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

Sander Sides - Coraline AU

So when scrolling through one of my favorite channels on here I saw someone mention Janus as Other Father, and this got my creativity going. I’ll hash out the characters and ideas, then give you a basic idea of what is cooking in my head. However, I’m not sure on how I want things to go in terms of plot. But I do have a general idea of the characters and their roles as well as background.

Other Mother: Logan Sanders

In this idea the Other Mother would have been Patton, but given there are so many sides, I thought he’d fit another role better. Then my sister suggested Logan as Other Mother, and it fits for the basic plot I have in mind. He goes by Logic by the others in the Other World, or as they call it the Alternate World or Pocket World. 

Logan says he’s the eldest one here along with Patton and Janus, and seems to be the head of the ‘family’. He’s a very stoic mother, pushing his kids, which in this case is Roman, Remus, and Virgil, to be smart. Not in a bad way, he’s a silently content mother, and you can tell when he’s proud of you. He cleans mostly and makes sure everything is in place, and enjoys gardening. Mostly he stays in the study or outside. 

In terms of power, Logan is the most powerful of them due to being the oldest person there. And no, he doesn’t turn into a spider being, he actually is a type of bird. Looking alot like harpy when you really tick him off. His buttons are dark blue with silver thread and his skin is warm but overly smooth. 

Other Fathers: Patton and Janus Sanders No one is really sure who is older, they’ve always been with each other. Janus enjoys making music and Patton enjoys cooking for the family. Both are very fatherly and enjoy doting on their kids. Going by the names of Morality and Deceit/Self. When mother dear isn’t around, it’s up to the one of the fathers to sort things out.  Janus is strange, as in he’s the one who gives the hints something isn’t quiet right. Though it’s unknown if these are his actions or not. He seems to like challenging kids that come to the Pocket World to think about what they are seeing and why. Yet does it a very coy way. Then there are days he’ll do a 180 and ask you not to question anything and actively lie about things. His buttons are dark gold with black thread, and he does have scales on his face still. Though, to a kid that’s nothing. Patton is cheerful and bubbly, his dinners are always the best as is his sweets. He’s the one that mostly sticks to Logan the most, and enjoys gardening also. He’s the first to make sure one doesn’t question, easily deflecting odd things, and is great at distracting people. He is Nostalgia after all, his areas when your near him make you feel so happy and get you lost in happy moments. His buttons are light blue with dark blue tread.  Both take on forms of a Frog and Snake when angry, which are terrifying. Their skin is also very rubbery feeling. Other Brother: Virgil Sanders  Virgil here is the youngest, looking like he’s only 15 or 16. He’s been here the shortest... and looks oddly like a kid that went missing back in the early 2000′s. The Family calls his Anxiety, and he’s rather withdrawn. But does enjoy playing video games or board games with Patton, Janus, and Logan.  Soft spoken, sarcastic, and a little emo spiderling, he’s adored by Patton mostly. Who calls him the ‘Dark Strange Son’ alot. Virgil seems rather happy in the Other World. Stating to little Thomas that this world is much better than anything he could dream of. He’s however hesitant to answer questions about things not inside the Other World. Telling Thomas to not think about that, and just be happy. He enjoys his room/the attic, and outside in the front yard. When angry, Virgil is the one with the spider form, taking on a more glass like look and his skin is cold to the touch. His buttons are dark purple with light purple thread. 

Other Twins: Roman and Remus Sanders The two Creativity Rascals, they are slightly older then Virgil, but much younger than Janus and Patton. They can warp reality around them when in their favorite spots, be it the Basement for Remus, or the Woods for Roman. Their rooms are actually in the basement in the door near the left side of the house. While Virgil's is in the attic. They serve as the entertainment, coming up with ideas on the fly to go on adventures, play dragons and knights, or kings and castles. The forest, quiet literally, is their playground. Having their own fort and castle there, and a while bunch of land to cover.  The twins play fight alot, but they get along very well and are rather close to one another. And are like the cool older brothers who have alot of fun, but are happy to let the youngers join them.  Both have tentacles in this one, though Remus is more slimy than his brother. And when they open their extra mouths on their body when angry, it’s very scary. Roman’s buttons are red with green thread, while Remus is green with red thread. And their skin is like plastic almost.  Coraline: Thomas Anderson  He’s about 12 in this one, just moved to the country side in a little blue house on the back dirt roads. This town is dreadfully boring, with dull, muted colors, always over cast and rainy. It’s like all the happiness has been sucked out of it and left to decay.  Thomas is not upset about the move, as he never had many friends, if any, from his old home. He’s mostly upset with the fact he’s just dull, he’s not allowed to be colorful. And to top it off, his parents aren’t always there emotionally for him. Leaving him completely isolated, even more so when he’s a closeted gay in a very religious family.  So when he finds a world where everything is colorful, with three dads, well two and a mom, a family who cares about him, he’s excited. Maybe this move won’t be so bad.

Plot: The idea in my head is that Thomas has moved with his parents to a rather nice when hie father got a promotion. But, like most typical rich families, he’s not really paid attention to. And Thomas feels mostly left out, having no friends to call his own, and just his imagination and books to keep him busy.  When exploring his new house, finding the attic and basement locked, and a small golden key, he finds a little door. It’s been walled off, which is a bummer. That is until the middle of the night, when Thomas follows a shadow to the door. Finding it leads to a world that is perfect. The world represents everything Thomas wants, brothers, Roman, Remus, and Virgil. Fathers, Patton and Janus, and a mother, Logan, who actually cares about him. He isn’t sure if this is some very real dream or not. But he’s not complaining, he feels welcomed instantly byt he family.  Taken on adventures with Roman and Remus, playing games with Virgil and learning knew things from Logan, helping Patton cook, and Janus teaches him music and among other things. But when after a week of this, Thomas starts to see strange cracks in their personalities. And when they one day ask if he wants to stay forever and be part of their family, it meets getting this pink buttons in his eyes. He’s terrified, and now wonders if he’ll ever escape... or even if he wants to. Notes:

So I’m not sure how I want it to be played out. If the Others are truly evil in just that they want to kidnap Thomas just because they are selfish and/or turn him into a doll.  OR if I want it to be well meaning sinister, where they think they are doing Thomas a favor by taking him away from his neglectful family. 

One thing to note is they do really like Thomas, regardless of intentions, they do like him. And either way, they want him to stay forever.

Now, I’m not sure if I want with the Other Father for Patton to be controlling Janus or Janus to be controlling Patton. One of them is well aware of what they are doing, but can’t go against the wishes of their controller or Logan. While they are happy, the idea of luring kids tends to hurt them inside.

The Other World is bigger than Thomas things, he’s just in a small area that belongs to Logan. There are MANY others out there. Who lure people away into their realm, for better or worse. It’s like it’s own reality, only everything is just perfect. It’s like a nostalgic trap, much like Patton’s room only worse.

Logan is the main guy, he’s been at this for a long time, and either Patton or Janus is their partner depending on who is controlling who. He mainly lures kids as he likes the taste of their humanity. It’s what he feeds off of, draining them of their everything, and making them like dolls, only with a semi soul. Any who does this too becomes his kid or helper. Logan is fine with this, he enjoys having a family. And he only has to feed every few decades or so. He’s been around for a long time. Most of his ‘kids’ have grown up, and become true Others who have their own areas. Virgil, Roman, and Remus though are still MUCH too young for such a thing.  Others are NOT human, nor are they ‘aliens’ either. Best thing I can think of are like Fae, only... less magical as we know it. They are creatures who feed off of emotions and the essences that make people human. Which is why they all feel like dolls. 

Others are near immortal should they feed properly, and Others areas tend to just attract people to them. Some go after teens, others kids, some adults, taste is everything. Adults tend to be more fulling, but can be bitter and sour tasting, Teens are half and half depending on situation, and are often spicy tasting. While kids are very sweet, and typically are fulling also depending on how well you’ve gained their trust. If you can get them to agree to being an other, even better.  It’s harder than it sounds though.

Each Other does have a specific power that they use. Which I am still hashing out in my head. 

They rarely get angry, but boy is it scary when they do. 

The key only is Thomas’s interpretation of the entrance way, it can be anything to get into the Other World. It’s all up to the person in how THEY think to get in. It could be walking through two trees making a hole in them, opening a door that is only unlocked on certain days, or even just crawling under your bed. It’s up to the seeker how they wish to get in, which is why the Other World can stay in one spot, no matter the house or thing built on it. 

There is no real moral code for Others, their world is very well hidden. But they are very protective of their charges when they find the right type of feed off of. Logan gets extremely possessive of Thomas when he shows up, not as in he punishes the others, but if Thomas ever thinks about leaving or tries too, Logan would lock him up until Thomas gives into despair. 

If they are being unruly or try to escape, one way to get them ot agree is by isolating them, and cutting them off from happiness. Which makes kids and teens want to stay once they leave their isolation. Logan dislikes doing this, but going without a food source is rather painful, and he’d rather not put himself or his partner through that. So if he must, he will make sure the target stays. Even if it won’t be as filling as if they agreed willingly. 

Also, their areas is often where their power is the strongest.

-0-0-0-0-0-

So Yeah, there it is, if you guys have any question just let me know. And this goes to @fangirltothefullest who when I mentioned this idea to her really wanted to see this.  I still need more for it, but I like the concept of it, it’s much different from the books, but that’s what makes it interesting. Could easily be Angst with Happy Ending. Could even get more sinister than this. We’ll see. Might post more about this later. And fanart is well loved, I can draw, but not well enough in my mind lol. 

[wisteriabookss]

My ACOSF Review (2/5 Stars)

Please respect my opinions. Not everything I say will be praiseful or nice. While I liked a lot of this book, a lot of it frustrated and bothered me. 

This review contains spoilers. Read at your own risk. 

This review will be more of an overall impression, and I will get more in depth about certain characters in future posts. 

I eventually got into the plot of the book, but I don’t think it was as great or creative as it could’ve been. I feel like SJM recycled ideas she’s already used to create the storyline. A quest to find a magic object that can stop a war and save the world? That sentence applies to both ACOWAR and ACOSF. It’s even more disappointing when you know there were other routes the plot could’ve taken but were eventually scratched. It was the perfect set up for an Illyrian mountain setting, it was written in canon, and, unsurprisingly, SJM retconned and changed it. 

The Valkyrie plot was cool, if a bit forced and out of place. Nesta barely starts training, and all of a sudden she wants to recreate a powerful band of female warriors that we’ve never heard of in the context of this world? Honestly, it feels like SJM watched Thor: Ragnarok, and was like, “Yes, that’s what I’m gonna do.” I thought Helions winged horses would come into play with that, but I guess we’ll have to see.

I thought the Blood Rite plot was gone, but we got it in the end, even though it was rushed. The most beautiful parts of the book happened during the Rite, so I’m glad we got to see those.

The ending of Briallyn was so swift I literally had to go back a page to make sure I read it right. Literally one page, and she’s killed. I expected more. I can’t say I'm surprised by how rushed her death was when I knew the Feysand trouble was approaching, and the number of pages left was getting smaller. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that SJM would save Rhys, Feyre, and their baby. Out of the entire ensemble in Kingdom of Ash, she only had the heart to kill Gavriel, who wasn’t too much of a main character. There was no way in hell she would do that to Feysand. 

I’m sorry, but I do not like the name Nyx. Imagine calling someone Nyx? Did she originally have it as Nick, but just needed to put an X? My eyes were rolling so hard when I read it. Just put an ‘O’ in front of it and end our misery, though I still would’ve rolled my eyes at that name too. The name just reminds me of all the blogger moms who put X’s in their child’s names for dramatic effect that ends up looking like they can’t spell.

I also didn’t appreciate the out of touch colloquialisms in this book either. Prythian doesn’t have a name for anxiety, depression, or PTSD, but they know what lactic acid means?

The amount of sex in this book was something we had been warned to expect, and I think due to the fastness of me reading this book (finished in two sittings), it made it feel like the sex was happening every other page, which it basically was. I’m not going to be mad though because a) it was well written, b) I didn’t feel like it harmed the plot too much, and c) this is the only Nessian smut we’re going to see in canon. But that threesome line with Az. . . y'all know which one I’m talking about. . . the one with the details about certain positions. . .  chile um anyways let’s move on. 

I called it months ago that Emerie would either be Mor or Azriel’s love interest, and looks like it’s going to be Mor. SJM’s writing is fairly predictable, especially when it comes to romantic ships, and she couldn’t have been more obvious about the two of them. I will write about Gwyn and Azriel in Azriel’s chapter review (cause that monstrosity needs a post of its own).

Now about Nesta’s healing arc. Some of it was satisfying and others were saddening. I’m happy that Nesta was able to find purpose in her life, and not believe herself to be worthless or pathetic, but strong and powerful. I’m happy she found Gwynn and Emerie; I love their friendship. I love how they stuck by each other no matter what, and saw the good and potential in one another.

However, even by the end of the book, Nesta still thinks herself as undeserving. Of Cassian, of love. She knows she has it, and she's so grateful for it, but she still believes she is undeserving of it, that Cassian is just so much better than her. A part of learning to love and live with yourself is knowing what you deserve, so why SJM took that from her character, I don’t know. I was continuously disappointed when said she was undeserving of anything, even after she had learned and grown from her mistakes. 

Maybe SJM thinks the belief of being undeserving of one's partner is romantic. I’m telling you now, it’s not. All that does is give unnecessary power to a person you believe you are undeserving of, and this leads to unequal power dynamics in a relationship. Rhys was the exact same with Feyre, so I’m guessing it's a theme.

Speaking of romantic themes, the repetition of the “your mine-im yours” line in this book was nauseating. Your going to make Nesta say the exact same thing her sister said when they had sex? Is there nothing else SJM could’ve come up with? It’s just so weird. And I swear to god if I see Elain do the same thing I’m gonna vomit. 

Nesta apologized to Cassian about what she said to him on Solstice in ACOFAS as if he never called her unlovable. As if he never said he didn’t understand why her sisters love her. He never apologized for that. There was so much apologizing from Nesta to Cassian about her calling him a brute, as if Cassian didn’t say he was “shackled” to her after she clearly explained how she feared she would lose her humanity if she accepted the word mate. Not if she accepted him, but the word. 

For Cassian to routinely tell Nesta to, “shut her fucking mouth,” when she used some attitude against Rhys was comical. Rhys has been bad mouthing and disrespecting Nesta this whole time, and when she shows some warranted attitude in return (not even an insult), Cassian rips into her. It doesn’t matter what he did for you, babe. Not everyone has the same experience with Rhys, so Cassian getting angry when Nesta showing anger at the way she was being treated was wrong. Her experience with him does not become invalidated just because Cassian has a good relationship with him.

There wasn’t a character arc for Cassian, which was one of the most disappointing parts of the book. He thinks of himself as inferior and undeserving as well, and by the end of the book it’s not even clear if that stance has changed. We saw him grow into the courtier persona in the meeting with Eris when Tamlin shows up, but we never see it again. I know there were instances in which he stood up for Nesta, but he also very quicky after that became silent in other moments when they were insulting her. The next book isn’t in his pov, but I’m hoping we see him become more confident in himself and make a firmer stance to protect Nesta (although I doubt he’ll need to seeing as how Rhys kisses the ground she walks on now).

Now onto Nesta’s apologies to the IC. I think Nesta apologizing to Feyre was expected, and I’m glad the sisters had that moment. I am, however, upset that there was never a moment where all the sisters sat down, and hashed it out. Talked about what they’d been through, how it affected them, and how it affected their feelings toward each other. After everything that happened between Nesta and Elain, all that hurt, you’re telling me all it took was Nesta to make Elain laugh by saying “fuck you,” and we’re good? It’s lazy writing. 

Elain telling Nesta that she only cared about how her trauma affected her did not sit right with me. Nesta sat by Elain’s side for weeks when she was in the thick of her struggles, and refused to leave her alone for fear that her struggles would eat her up alive. She constantly looked for anything that could help her sister, and never left her unprotected. Nesta and Elain didn’t communicate after the war, for reasons that we now know was because of Nesta’s guilt for Elain being kidnapped. It is not abnormal when a family member has been traumatized by things that have happened to another family member. That’s expected. Ask any family who has lost a child or had a relative go through something horrible.

Elain is acting as if Nesta has only ever been concerned with herself when she’s spent her entire life concerned with Elain. I made a post long ago about how the IC only wanted Nesta to heal for their sake rather than her sake, and there’s so much more evidence for that than for Elain. Elain’s healing process was able to be understood and encouraged by the IC, whereas they had no idea what to do with Nesta. So for Elain to come at Nesta for not caring about her trauma, a second after Nesta was trying to protect her from further trauma by telling her she didn't want her seering for the Trove, was unwarranted.

Speaking about Elain looking for the Trove, what happened there? Elain had this whole speech where she said she wanted to do something and no one could stop her and then we just. . . don’t hear anything about it again? SJM had a perfect opportunity to do something powerful with Elain there, and completely threw it away. 

Nesta’s apology to Amren was extreme, dramatic, and honestly, unnecessary. Amren called Nesta a “pathetic waste of life,” constantly demeaned and degraded her anytime her name was mentioned, and said she did all this because Nesta used her as a shield against her problems and the IC. Seriously? Nesta using Amren as a shield does not warrant that kind of verbal abuse. It doesn't make her a pathetic waste of life. Amren’s been alive for how long? And reacts like that to an obvious side effect of extreme trauma? No ma'am. Nesta getting on her damn knees was too much, and obviously just another moment, like a lot of moments, that SJM felt the need to make dramatic. And then having the audacity to let Amren say to Nesta that, “the struggle with the darkness is worth it,” when she was one of those people who contributed to that darkness is disgusting.

I didn’t like Rhys at all in this book. Even after he saw inside Nesta’s mind about her experience in the cauldron, he was still wary and rude with her. Literally anytime Nesta showed that she was changing, Rhys didn’t change anything about his attitude or behavior towards her. A moment of regret, and then he’s back to being arrogant ass Rhys. Him not telling Feyre about the baby was also extremely stupid. It’s her body, her life, her baby’s life, his life, and she had a right to know what was happening. Not telling her because you didn’t want her to be “upset,” is a dumb excuse. I thought you always promised to let her make her own decisions, Rhys? What happened to that promise? The one that was a hell of a lot better than the stupid bargain ya’ll made? Though Nesta told her out of anger, good on her for telling her sister. Should’ve happened way sooner. His apology to Nesta was the only one that warranted the dramatics. That is what you get on your knees for.

That whole scene about him becoming High King had me throwing the book. Amren telling Rhys that the swords were some sort of mother-mary-cauldron-blessed-hallelujah sign that he was supposed to be High King had me fuming. It’s Nesta’s power. It’s Nesta’s sword. That should have never been a discussion. Not everything is for Rhys. These people are so blinded by their love for him they can’t even see how arrogant he is. To write Nesta giving back Ataraxia made me so angry after we just had a whole moment where we find out it means inner peace. I just hope that all of this is not foreshadowing Rhys becoming High King. I know you love him Sarah, but please don’t.

All in all, this book wasn’t too bad. There were some great moments and some bad moments. I think SJM’s biggest issue in her writing is that she doesn’t outline, or at least doesn't seem to outline, not thoroughly. I feel like she uses plot devices willy nilly whenever it’s the easiest solution. There was never a moment where I said, “that was clever!” A lot of it was cool, but not clever. Not creative. She also has a tendency to write very dramatically, in staccato type sentences where everything is made into a big moment, which bugs me a lot. 

I love Nesta. She’s still my fav, and will probably always be my fav. This book doesn’t change that, and as you can tell in my review, most of the issues I had weren’t with her behavior, but with the behavior of other characters. I still love Cassian, even though he made me want to rip my hair out sometimes.

Will I read the next books? Probably. I can’t seem to stay away from these characters or these books, so kudos to SJM for writing them. I know a majority of people have given this book 4 or 5 stars, but I can’t bring myself to give it more than 2/5.

[misskittysmagicportal]

Just a thought, no particular character in mind. Car sex can be very awkward, what if, after several knocked elbows and banged heads they fuck on the hood of the car

Rebel Yell (Sean Falco x Reader)

Word Count: 1370

Warnings: funny smut. Yes funny.

A/N: Some nights Sean can really take you for a ride

You and Sean stood side by side at the valet stand. There were nights the wait staff had to fill in when either Derek or Sean couldn't show. Most of those times, you practically threw yourself at Nino when Falco was alone.

Now the two of you danced around each other. You would find any excuse to touch him. To brush those unwieldy curls from his forehead. Laughing awkwardly at his ridiculous jokes, mostly puns. The way his very existence reduced you to a giggling school girl.

Sean was a bit more blunt when it came to flirting. Boldly asking you out, which you deflected every single time. Openly staring down your shirt. Which you ALSO deflected. Never really understanding why you played hard to get when all you wanted to do was drown in those green eyes.

Then one night..

“You know one of these days, Sean Falco, your constant cell phone use is going to get you in trouble,” you teased him while trying to look over his shoulder.

Sean shrugged you off but kept tapping away at a rapid pace. A smirk played across his lips. You held your chin in your hands as the boredom took over. A buzzing from the stand took you by surprise.

Next car that comes around that corner, we're taking for a joy ride. Then we're gonna park it on some busy street and hash out this obvious chemistry we've got.

Your face flushed as your heart began to race. Then a second buzz.

Only if you want.

You looked up and out towards the busy high street, “Or it can get you in trouble tonight.”

The next half an hour was quite possibly the longest of your life. Not one single car even attempted to pull up to the curb. People came and went, having parked on their own. You stood together in awkward silence for the first time since the two of you met.

“T’ere’s always my car,” Sean’s Irish accent filled the night air.

You snorted without meaning to, “I've seen your gaudy Texas State orange car. It is one violent sneeze away from falling apart.”

Sean rolled his eyes before scratching his forehead. “Fine. My flat or yours?”

“Me go home with a handsome Irish stranger? What kind of woman do you take me for?!” You feigned shock.

“COME ON!” he clasped his hands together like he was praying. “I'm not above getting on my knees and begging ye.”

“While you’re down there, my shoe needs to be tied.”

Without a second thought, Sean knelt down in front of you and began tying your shoe.

“Sean! What are you doing?”

“You said ye needed your trainer tied.”

“I was being sarcastic, you bloody potato.”

“Ooo Ethnic slur. I love it. Do another!” He gazed up through the curly bangs. “Honestly I’m just having a bit of a cheek. I don't want anyone t’ever t’ink I'm pressuring them te have sex.”

“I'm not pressured. I'd love to come over to your place after work.”

Sean with his fingers stroking yours behind the pedestal. You linked them together as the breath exhaled heavily from your lungs. You bit your lip as he let his hand linger on your thigh. He traced slow circles down to your knee and back up. You simply stared at it, feeling a bit wanton already.

It took ten more minutes before a car came. A stunning. 1976. Cherry. Red. Corvette pulled up to the curb. A couple you certainly recognized tossed Sean the keys without a second thought. Billy Idol still blasting from the speakers.

“Don't worry dude. I've got three more at home.”

Your mouths dropped in unison. “Sorry darling, I'm gonna have sex with this car.”

“Only if I can watch,” you simply whispered.

From here on you felt somehow outside of your body as Sean made sure the coast was clear. He opened the door for you before bending over to stretch his arms on the hood of the Corvette.

“YOU FUCKING BEAUTY, YOU!” he shouted gleefully sliding in the drivers side.

As you left the restaurant, on for a bit of a joy ride, Sean started to sing along with the music. You couldn't help yourself as you raised your shirt over your head. Then lifted your hips to slide out of your work pants.

Sean glanced over and nearly wrecked. Righting the wheel instead of going up over the curb.

“Steady on, love. Let me catch up.”

“I don't know if we’ll have much time for foreplay before you finally decide to park. Just making it a bit easier,” you shrugged and covered his hand on the gear shift. Then tugged it towards your bare thighs.

“Fuck,” Sean muttered.

Still he allowed you to push his hand between your thighs. His fingers teasing the thin fabric of your panties to elicit a wetness. You opened your legs a bit wider so he could dip them inside of you. They slipped easily inside and out before he had to use both hands to park the car just past one of the busiest intersections.

He left the car on while frantically undoing his jeans. He bungled the job of taking them down over his legs and knees as you climbed to yours in the passenger seat. You reached under the seat and released the latch so that Sean was suddenly flat on his back.

“Right t’en,” his voice sounded like bells. “On top.”

In your eagerness to relieve yourself of your panties and straddle Sean, you knocked into the dome light. You covered your face with one hand as you freed your body with the other. Sean laughed. Asked if you were ok. You were fine the words came out. Then you were on him.

You sank down on Sean’s erection, one knee on the arm of the door. The other crushed into the center console as you started to rock back and forth on him. Your hips colliding equally with the steering wheel and Sean's body.

Sean's movements were frenzied. He squeezed your ass and rolled with you. Using his hands to find a rhythmic pattern of pulling and pushing. He was so lost in you riding him, that the hard thud of his elbow into the gear shift caused him to jerk forward. It was just Murphy’s law from there.

Sean jolted upwards from reflex. You slammed back into the steering wheel. The curve of your back laid on the horn, scaring the two of you a second time. A mass of arms and legs and various stages of two naked bodies crashed into one another. Your knee painfully wedged between the seats; you contorted with Sean still inside of you. Your twisted body twisting his cock as well.

“Holy fuck! Sweetheart, that's attached,” he reminded you gently.

You whined momentarily. “I know. Sean this isn't fun. I mean it is, but it isn't?” You struggled to free your leg from its prison. You came undone and nearly managed to knee him in the ribs. “I have a fat ass.”

“You have a lovely arse,” Sean informed. His face buried in your cleavage.

“SEA NNN STOP!”

“What? I'm sorry. We’ll stop.” He made to help you off of him. He slammed his other elbow into the driver’s side window.

“I meant being so fucking.. YOU,” you whimpered.

“I'm not ALWAYS nice.”

You settled back in the passenger seat and pulled your shirt on. Sean leaned sideways and kissed you sweeter than he had the right to. Then he noticed one of those fake Mexican blankets in the back seat. He held it up with a clear thought on his face.

“Wrap this around waist and get out of th’car.”

Sean wasn't suggesting. He was telling. So you did, sitting just on the hood of the Chevy. The blanket was like a mock skirt as Sean spread your legs this time. He hooked your foot around his hip, your other anchored on the front bumper. You didn't remember holding your breath, but you felt the air rush from your lungs when Sean buried himself up to the hilt inside of you.

Sean growled in your ear as he began to plow into you. That good pain as his pelvis crashed with yours. The hood of the car bending and popping under the weight of your bodies coming together and apart repeatedly. The way Sean cut into you; made his hips rut in a circular motion with breakneck speed. Your body somehow relaxed before you both, shockingly, came together.

"How's that for gettin’ in t’trouble?”

Tag list: @joz-stankovich @bisexualnathanyoung @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @badsext @imagine-you @super-unpredictable98 @elliethesuperfruitlover @slutforrobbiebro @immortalled @crisis-of-joy

[wherearemyglassesbro]

i saw that you play genshin impact, so i’m kind of curious... what’d be the axis and allies’ vision and weapons?

Uh oh...now you got me started. Be warned, it’s a long one cause I have no self control

Some key terms for those who don’t play genshin impact and want to be included!!

Cryo -> ice, Hydro -> water, Dendro -> nature, Geo -> rock, Pyro -> fire, Electro -> lightning

Hilichurls: a common enemy found in the wild. Despite looking like hairy trolls, they have a district language as well as texts, art and song that they share together making them an advanced species!

Ruin guards: another enemy. Giant, scary robot...they scare me...

Knights of Favonious: an organization of knights within Mondstat that keep order and peace :) very nice guys and gals over there!!

Mondstat: modeled after Germany

Liyue: modeled after China

Alfred: pyro, claymore, Springvale Mondstat

Alfred would be a super heavy hitter in battle but his drawbacks are that despite his energetic nature, he’s slower because of the weight of his weapon

He blows stuff up a lot and sets all of the grass around you on fire so if you fight with him...His teammates will take damage from him Jeez Louise!!!

Since we don’t have all of the nations of Teyvay unlocked, I don’t know where he’d be from! I’d have to explore to get a sense for it so for characters that don’t have a place on the map yet, I’ll mark them with an asterisk from now on! :)

Idk where he lives but I do know that he’d be a devoted member of the adventurers guild! He’s always willing to offer a helping hand to anyone in need! Wether it be helping Granny Ann make hash browns or taking comissions to go kill a huge ruin guard who’s terrorizing the town!! He’s always leaping into new jobs! He isn’t even in it for the money or rewards! He just loves helping out!

Arthur: Dendro, archer, Mondstat

Artie is a beast in battle! Shooting vine Aries at enemies to tie them up or temporarily blind them??? Sick as fuck. Keep in mind, Genshin doesn’t have any Dendro characters that are playable yet so idk how they’d fight but I think I can guess :)

Artie is technically part of the knights of favonious because he works in their library. He translates books written in ancient texts into the standard language so historians and others can read what the old civilizations had to say

Instead of having normal eyes, they’re slit like snake eyes. And he has leaves instead of hair :)

He has a little seelie that floats around at his side. He talks to it but it doesn’t really do anything but provide company to a lonely guy :’) he needs more friends

Matthew: Anemo, catalyst, *

It’s always good to have a catalyst on your team! Ningguang is a great example of an underestimated catalyst cause she can do INSANE damage man!! So I think Mattie would be the same way

Matt isn’t violent and doesn’t enjoy fighting so his in-game voice lines would say that lol

Mattie is an alchemist! Well...A student alchemist. He didn’t take up an interest in alchemy until like, 3 years ago so he’s got a lot to catch up on still! He’s doing his best!

He gets very annoyed with Alfred since Mattie is detail oriented and gentle...Alfred is not any of those things. But he still loves his brother and on rare occasions, he’ll assist him with his commissions

Ivan: Cryo, catalyst, Liyue(temporary)

Ivan would be a support character for sure but he’d do a damn good job of doing it

He’s buff but he doesn’t do hand to hand combat, he’s mastered magic for a reason

Ivan spends most of his time studying hilichurls. He writes books about them, translates their texts and acts as a peace keeper when he can. He gets information from them about the Abyss Order in return for free reign of small portions of protected land where they can live without fear of being killed

Because he’s from Schneznya(spelling?) he’s kinda expected to be a bad guy but he left a long time ago. But he still sounds like he’s from there and...He’s super pale too so there really is no mistaking where he’s from

Ivan can’t stand how ignorant humans are towards hilichurls so he does everything he can to advocate for them. He’s covered in scars from when he first started engaging with the beasts. A huge scar runs down his face but he doesn’t mind it

He’s got big, sharp teeth!! So he doesn’t often smile cause he thinks he looks weird

Francis: Hyrdo, long sword, *

Fran is underestimated when it comes to combat (like Kaeya...I see you slandering this man) but he has so much potential!

Since he’s a hydro, he is so useful for elemental reactions! If he’s paired with a cryo or pyro user, he’d totally boost them!!

Fran is a traveling entertainer, he goes between the 7 nations as a singer and actor for small stage plays. He has a crew of friends who travel with him, they’re one jolly bunch!

He always acts all nonchalant and stuff but once he’s in a battle, he’s wild. Especially if the abyss order holds up his crew on their way to their next tour destination “We need to be in Liyue Harbor in four hours you are NOT holding us back!” *tidal wave*

He’s a regular tavern hopper! A very recognizable face since he’s been banned from a handful for getting too rowdy

He can make not one, but 2 special dishes :0

Yao: Dendro, polearm, Liyue

I just imagine him as a shorter, richer and cooler version of Zhongli

He’d do that kick move that Zhongli does with his polearm oh man that looks SICK dude!!!

Yao would shoot vines out and they’d strangle enemies for a few seconds before disintegrating but if he’s leveled up enough, they’ll totally strangle those stupid hillichurls lol

Yao sells rare gems and other miscellaneous items for very high prices in Liyue where he grew up. His shop is upstairs by the Fatui bank. Rich people enjoy looking at what his shop has to fifer and will argue prices with him. They’re getting scammed for sure. He’ll list a set of cor lapis earrings as $50,000 and the rich will be like ‘I’ll pay $25,000, no more than that’ and he’ll take it!!....Cause thise earrings are worth $5000 at most >:)

Hes close with a lot of the higher ups in Liyue and is often invited to fancy lunches or dinners where they discuss policy, contracts and vendor permits. He doesn’t really get a say in any of that but he benefits from listening

Kiku: Electro, claymore, *

Kiku would be SUCH an awesome electo user are you KIDDING me??? I can see it now, him swinging that huge sword around, purple lightning bolts flying all around and he looks like a total badass? Amazing vibes

When paired with cryos???? He’d do an insane amount of damage fr

Kiku runs a small restaurant where he...runs the place...but doesn’t cook. His restaurant is extremely exclusive and people often throw fits when they can’t get in cause the wait list is over 5 years long. He’ll rest his hand on their shoulder and smile ‘is something wrong? I’d love to take a complaint if you have one’...No one has even dared to complain to his face lol

Behind the restaurant front he deals with the Fatui, buying and selling minerals or artifacts. That’s where his knowledge is at, not with food. He pays his staff to ignore what goes on behind the scenes and the locals are too busy enjoying the restaurant to question what goes on after dark

Gilbert: Pyro, long sword, Mondstat

Gil would be one of the free characters given to you at the beginning of the game but hey, I’m not complaining

He’s highly destructive and very chaotic in battle, he can do that spin move even though that’s meant for claymore users

He’s Mondstat’s biggest trouble maker. He runs an underground gambling room that sits underneath a tavern. He isn’t really into gambling but he makes a lot of money by running it

The only knight who knows is Ludwig which is not good cause...Gil pretty much bribes his brother into not telling the knights of favonious (peace keepers of Mondstat)

Gil never got his gliding certificate cause he kept flying into buildings. He broke his nose doing that lol

Lovino: Pyro, catalyst, *

I can’t add anymore images so imagine a floating, red and black orb. Lovi doesn’t get a book catalyst cause he doesn’t read :) That’s the catalyst thing I’m talking about 😅😅

My guy has the angriest in game voice lines, he’s inconvenienced by every battle, every enemy is ugly and a fuckin disaster. He’s just. Angry.

He’d be a super weak character if he needed to rely on hand to hand combat but he learned magic for a reason babey

He owns a flower stand in his country and makes all kinds of beautiful flower arrangements. He even picks his own flowers in the fields when he can (but usually pays the town’s children to do it for him to ‘teach them the value of hard work’).

Everyone knows he’s a total hothead and will piss him off on purpose just cause it’s funny lmao. But then somehow...Their hair or clothes will just...catch on fire. So is it really worth it to tease him? :/

Feliciano: Hydro, archer, Mondstat(temporary)

I feel like Feli would also be a free character, not cause he isn’t good or anything! But you always need an archer on your team!

Feli has healing properties for his team and doesn’t do an insane amount of damage but when given the right resources, he’d be a pretty sick healer

He moved to Mondstat to join the church there. He leads prayers in front of the church and sings in the choir inside.

He is the sweetest and has never committed a crime in his LIFE but he’s afraid of the knights lol he’s terrified that he’ll get in trouble and be kicked out of Mondstat forever! That would never happen but he’s a worry wart cause of his brother

Ludwig: Geo, long sword, Mondstat

Lud is the only one that I could really think of as a Geo but Geos are awesome :)

He’s a hard hitter but has like...No shield so he’ll take damage fast if you don’t give him those artifacts with shield in them or whatever lol uhhhh I wouldn’t know anything about that cause I suck at building my teams ;-;

He’d totally be in with the knights of favonious! (I think that’s spelled right lol) but he’d take his duty as a knight very seriously!! He’s a familiar face around Mondstat, the elderly absolutely adore him and the local teenage girls swoon over him which he finds super embarrassing lol

He has to work hard to keep Gilbert in check cause even though Gil isn’t a knight, his actions reflect negatively back on Lud very often... :(

Please ignore the spelling errors and terrible photo cropping on my part lol this was so fun!!

By the time you’re seeing this, ive already made full outfit red sheets for everyone mentioned above!!!! :D

[heyheydidjaknow]

For anyone who is wondering why I deleted the chapters, I was very tired and forgot what tenses were, so I had to go back and change it all, and that is a pain on Tumbr. Tumblr also, apparently, either has a character or word limit, so this is our first 2 parter. I know I could just separate them into chapters, but I feel weird about making a whole chapter devoted to a date, so.

Edit: Who was gonna tell me I misspelled Casey?

Chapter 6 Pt 1

Leo sighs. “Okay, the fact that this will be the second creepiest stunt you’ve pulled this week says a lot.”

“Relax.” Donatello draws another line. “If she has a map of the foreseeable future and showed it to me, it obviously makes sense that I should answer in kind.”

“But,” Raphael points out, “this is the most desperate thing he’s done this week.”

“Zip it.” He caps his pen, holding his diagram up and walking off to his newly obtained whiteboard. “Besides, it’s not a comprehensive flow chart—attempting to list every possible conversation thread would be futile. It's simply a visual aid to remember the general actions I should take in any given situation.” Although you have been promising to “teach him a thing or two” about plot structure one on one, a part of him thinks it appropriate to make the first move. It appears to be the gallant thing to do, anyhow.

Mikey hops over the table, following one of the paths with his finger. “How come you have a shark on this one?”

“Oh,” he nods, “that’s in case she decides to go to the beach and gets attacked by a shark.”

“And why are there these Xs on this one?”

“That signifies the end of one of our lives.”

“And the hearts?”

He blushes. “I’m not answering that.”

Raph shudders. “Man, this just feels gross. I can already feel the secondhand disgust.”

“Raphael,” Donatello sighs, “love is a complex enigma that, if not thoroughly considered and tailored, will crumble before your very eyes. I cannot and will not destroy what little relationship we have by being reckless. Besides,” he scoffs, “in what other possible manner could I ask her out?”

“Hey, Y/N,” Leo offers, “let’s hang out.”

“See, that’s too pedestrian.” He gestures to the poster. “Trust in the—”

You slam through the door. Donnie, apparently panicked, flips the board over with fumbling hands. “H-hey, Y/N. Hey.” He stands up properly, clearing his throat. “Hey.”

You point at him. “How do you feel about busting a corrupt disgrace to the title of scientist?”

“Good!” He peaks at his board, trying to steal himself. “Where are we headed?”

“A neuroscientist by the name of Rockwell got mutated.” You start heading out. “Asshole in question is Victor Falco, AKA Feral Falco, AKA The Rat King if we don’t haul ass. He’s at Rockwell’s lab.”

“Awesome. Let’s go.” He runs after you, shooting a thumbs-up back at his brothers.

You are going to murder a man tonight. Probably. Hopefully not. Depends on how hard it is to wreck his shit. You have been stalking the Channel 6 news for about a week now, waiting for the jackass to show up, and now that he has? You are not about to let him become the monster you knew he could and would become.

“So,” Donnie startles you, lost in thought, “how was your first day of class?”

“It was fine. Met Casey, avoided Irma like the plague, all that jazz.” You turn a right.

“Casey?”

“Casey Jones. Hockey player, real bad at math.”

“A guy?” He seems interested in this subject for some reason.

“Yup.” You reach into your bag, wrapping your fingers around your kitchen knife, hands already shaking. If you must kill him, you will make it quick. “My age.”

“Oh.” He sighs. “That’s… nice.”

‘Can I just take him to the police? I don't have any evidence. This is breaking and entering.’

He clears his throat. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“We’re here.”

You look up at the building, sigh. “So we are.”

He moves in front of you, moving to meet you at eye-level. “Is there anything I need to know before we go in?”

You take a deep breath. “The man in the lab coat is the perp. We need to take him down, first and foremost. He may act a fool, but he’s accountable for the mutation of his partner. We either have to incapacitate, convict or, if necessary, kill him.”

He swallows. “This guy is that bad?”

“Not yet.” You start pulling the knife out properly as you push the door open with your clothed arm. “But it’s best to pull a weed out from the root.”

He follows you closely.

You look down at your phone to double-check that this is the offending room. “Here.” You back up, gesturing to the door eccentrically, heart pounding in your chest. “This is the room.”

He approaches you, brow furrowed. “Y/N,” he asks cautiously, “don’t take this the wrong way, but you look sick. Are you alright?”

You nod. “Nervous is all. Haven’t done this sort of thing before.”

He offers a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.” He gives you a thumbs up. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright?”

Your knuckles go white around the grip as you try to release some tension. ‘Don’t choke. That’s his job.’ “Yeah.” You return it. “Oh, are you free tomorrow night? I still have to give you that lesson.”

His face lights up. “Y-yeah! Totally!” He grins eagerly. “Should I go to your place? At what time?”

“We’ll hash out the details on the way back.” You look prominently to the lock. “Now, I take it you have some gadget or gizmo to help us open this bad boy?”

He kneels, pulling a device from the utility belt on his hip and sliding it into the card reader. “Of course.”

The door lets out a harsh buzz, the light turning green. You pull your sleeve forward onto your hand, pushing the door open.

The room smells like metal and mold and decay, a certain lethality hanging in the air when you enter. You stay close to the wall, pulling down a lever to illuminate the harsh laboratory in an even harsher light. And there, caught frozen as he pockets a vial, is Victor Falco.

His eyes flicker towards the door.

You tackle him to the ground, shifting your weight back onto his legs, and pin his arms above his head. “Donnie,” you call, stopping his struggling with a knife pressed against his neck, “would you be so kind as to find a few things for me? I can tell you where they are in the room, but I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“Uh, sure.” His voice sounds strange to you. Tight. Nervous? Confused? You ignore it for now.

“What is the meaning of this,” the scientist bellows from underneath you. “I demand you give me an explanation!”

“Oh be quiet, traitor.” You press the blade against his skin. “We both know the crime you’ve committed against your partner.”

His eyes widen.

You keep your eyes locked on him at all times. “The first thing you’re looking for is a container of mutagen. When you get to the desk, you should see 2 stacks of drawers.”

You do not hear his footsteps. “Mhm.”

“The bottom left drawer has a false bottom. If you pull it up, you’ll find a canister of mutagen.”

You hear the drawer slide open, the shuffling of papers. “Got it.”

“Fantastic. Now, on the desk should be a flash drive belonging to Rockwell. Grab that.”

“How could you possibly know?” You feel his wrist tense as he clenched his fist. “I was so thorough.”

“I’m psychic,” you lie, smiling coldly. “Be happy I met you here and not in your home.”

“Anything else?”

“Whatever is in his pockets, besides car keys and a wallet. You’re getting new chemicals.”

The doctor does not seem to like that idea. He starts writhing underneath you.

“If you don’t stop moving,” you sigh, bringing the knife up and down quickly, hovering over his left eye, “you, a neuroscientist, will have the pleasure of discovering firsthand if what people say about losing your depth perception is true. See, I’ve always heard that it settles, but I’m more than happy to see it happen firsthand if you’ll indulge me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You aren’t sure.” You chuckle darkly, fingers wrapping tighter still around his wrists. “I don’t need to be a psychic to feel your shaking.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a green blob crouch down, pulling vials from his pockets.

“You’re a child.”

“And yet I’m the one holding a knife to you.” ‘Why am I so calm?’ “You’re selfish. You’re prideful. You won’t try anything because I know you to be cowardly, and you won’t say anything,” you nod, “because, if you did, you would have to admit to breaking into your missing partner’s lab, and deal with the backlash regarding me and my associate bringing that hard drive to the police and letting them connect the dots.” You smile sweetly. “Donnie, would you be so kind as to get some distance between you and Mr. Falco?” You do not look over at him, focused on the current task. “If he pulls anything, you need to be able to bring that to the police.”

“Got it.” A few seconds pass. “I’m by the door.”

You slide the carving knife in that general direction. “Goodnight, Falco.” You grab his hair, slamming his head against the ground once as you leap to your feet. You grab the knife, sprinting towards the door. “And that is our cue to leave.”

Donatello, who is having interesting feelings about the whole thing, appears to have been snapped out of some sort of trance. He nods, and the both of you exit the scene.

--

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve, shaking as you rest your chin on the edge of the dumpster. “T-thanks,” you smile shakily. “I appreciate it, really.”

“Not at all.” He let your locks fall from his hand. “I imagine it’s hard, what with having hair and all.” He helps you down from your perch on a stack of crates. “Are you feeling alright now?”

“Besides my mouth tasting like stomach acid? Never better.” You sigh, rubbing your face with your hands. “Sorry. The nerves just kinda…” you trail off, cheeks dusted pink. “Well, you get the idea.”

“It’s alright, really.” He smiles fondly. “You were really bold in there. It was really cool.”

“I don’t feel cool. I feel the opposite of cool.” You start down the alleyway. “But at least we stopped a ton of problems in its tracks.”

You hear a primal cry as a large primate lands in front of you.

You look him in the eyes, already tired of this episode. “Good evening, Dr. Rockwell.”

His eyes snap to Donatello, who was already unsheathing his bo staff. You look over your shoulder at him. “Chill out. He’s cool.”

“He’s a giant monkey!”

“Dude, he’s a well-esteemed scientist.” You turn to face him properly, holding his arms out to get some proper separation. “Put the effin stick down.”

“But—” He stops, takes a deep breath, and sheathes the staff. “Alright. I’ll trust you.” He seems almost disturbed by your apparent ease.

You turn back to face him properly, smiling. “Doctor,” you nod, “your partner will be of no concern to you from this point onward. Rest assured; his research has been halted.” Your tone is politely respectful.

The wild eyes of the primate calm. He seems to at least sense the general sentiment. He nods once, leaping up onto the nearest rooftop and disappearing into the night.

You nod in satisfaction, looking back at the stunned Donatello.

“He calmed down so easily.”

“He has a human mind, for the most part.” You shrug, continuing down the alley. “Let’s head back. Man, if you dad knew the kind of trouble I just got him out of.” You giggle at his dumbstruck expression, walking backward to keep facing him. “Well, are you just gonna stand there lookin pretty or are you going to come with?”

His face goes red. He nods once, hurrying after you.

You two walk quietly for a little over a minute. “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Totally.” You decide to bite the bullet and pull of the manhole cover. “What’s up?”

“Why do you call him that?”

“Call who what?” You start climbing down.

“You know, not call him Master Splinter.” He pulls the cover back on, landing beside you. “You always call him my dad or Yoshi or Mr. Hamato.”

“Well,” you shrug, “he’s your dad, right?”

“I’m not saying it’s a problem,” he clarified, “or that’s it’s incorrect, but most people—myself included—refer to him as Master Splinter.”

You start walking with him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Donnie,” you sigh, “but, if I can help it, I honestly hope I never have to call him that.”

“Why?” He walks beside you, eyes tracing your figure subtlety.

“Didn’t I already say?” You nod back in the direction you guys came from. “You saw how I acted back there. This is only episode six or seven. The trauma I’d have to go through as a ninja here would kill me,”

“But you have the guts for it.” His voice is certain. “You’re strong enough, mentally, to be a ninja.”

You pause, your throat catching. You wonder if he would still think so if he had seen how you had spent your nights.

He clears his throat, blushing again. “I think you are, anyway.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck silently. You feel him seize up under you. “Thank you,” you mumble.

He slowly relaxes, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours gently. Slowly, he buries his hand in your hair. He is always so warm— he makes you feel oddly safe. This is only the second time you have been this physically close to him, but you don’t think for a moment that he would try anything.

You back off, clearing your throat as your cheeks catch fire. “Sorry,” you smile timidly. “I’ve just been… I’m not usually this clingy.”

He blinks out of his stupor, looking down at you. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it.” He grinned giddily, almost drunk. “Y-You are all good.”

You swallow. “I’ve gotta do an introduction type project for school, so I gotta get back home.” You walk back in the direction you two came. “Come to my place at about seven tomorrow. I’ll order food.”

He nods, body relaxed. “Seven. Got it.” He does.

You wave, walking back to the ladder. “Then I’ll see you then.”

He stands there, watching you leave. As soon as he hears the sliding of the manhole cover back into place, he takes a moment to celebrate the victory before starting to walk back to the lair.

‘I got a date!’

Table of Contents

Chapter 5

Chapter 6, Part 2

[adamarks]

simon snow has fucking dragon powers or some shit and this is my goddamn proof

Whilst you people were having a meltdown over Baz and Simon not hashing it out (Simon’s not in a place of understanding his self worth enough for that yet.), I was having a meltdown about Simon Snow The Literal Fucking Dragon. 

Now, this is obviously going to have major spoilers for Wayward Son. I’m going to assume you’ve read it if you’re reading this. I’ve put a lot of thought into this theory and this is a long ass post so I’m putting it under the cut. Now. Let’s go, lesbians!

First and foremost, let’s start with the wings and tail. 

Simon’s wings are established at the very beginning of Wayward Son to represent something. We don’t really get to quite know what that something is until they start referring to Simon’s wings the same way they used to refer to his magic. 

The most direct reference to Simon’s wings symbolizing his magic is in Simon’s section of the prologue at the very end of the book:

“It’s time for me to stop pretending I’m some sort of superhero. I was that-- I really was-- but I’m not anymore. I don’t belong in the same world as sorcerers and vampires. That’s not my story.

Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready. I could go back to school then, or get a job...”

This section directly confirms that yes, these wings are a metaphor for Simon’s magic. They’re all he has left connect him to the world of magic. They’re the only thing still making him feel even remotely on the same level as Baz and Penelope. (This book really was all about the concept of self-worth and how completely lacking it affects not only us but those we love. Phew, talk about a doozy. No wonder we’re all crying.)

Now that we’ve established that Simon’s wings, at the very least, are his one tether to magic, let’s drive the nail into the coffin of the wings and tail being absolutely, 100% symbolic of his magic. 

As I mentioned earlier, the book starts treating the wings exactly the same as it treated his magic. This even starts before Wayward Son. The first mention of Simon’s emotions relating to his wings and tail is in the first book. In the epilogue, in Baz’s section, during the dance scene. 

“His tail whips out of my hand. It tends to slash around when he’s upset.”

This really starts to come out in the last fourth of Wayward when he’s “itching for a fight.”

His wings constantly poke, prod, and generally annoy Baz and Penny because he refuses to put them away. Almost.... like... how his magic..... felt suffocating.... and too much... and he couldn’t push it back... or tamp it down. *cough*

Okay, so that was all pretty basic, boring, base-building stuff, yeah?  Pretty “whatever we get it.” 

Well, here’s where it starts to get fun. 

Let’s talk about Simon’s Mirrors.

Lemme just explain what the hell a mirror is, first. In case we all flunked our high school Lit classes. 

A mirror character is, in simple terms, a character that acts, looks like, or reminds you of one of the main characters. Through these “mirror characters” some important information about the main character is revealed to us subtextually. 

Let’s name our Simon mirrors:

Ebb 

Agatha (she’s being developed as her own character but that’s not stopping her from mirroring our good lad.)

Aunt Fiona (to some extent anyway. she doesn’t really factor here.) 

There might be some minor ones I’m forgetting (I’m not including foils) but these are our main guys. 

I put Ebb on the list first, but let’s start with Agatha, the cranky heroine of our dreams. 

Throughout the whole first book, Agatha is shown to be Simon’s mirror. Them both mooning over Baz in almost the exact same way. (Jesus Christ they’re embarrassing to watch.) The waiting on rooftops, the handkerchief. (Don’t get me started on Simon carrying around Baz’s scarf in Wayward. I’m soft and everything hurts. Our poor, stupid, stupid boys.) It’s not exactly subtle. 

In Carry On, Agatha reveals just how much Simon also resents his fate. He never really expresses it, but Agatha is reflecting to us how he’s feeling. They both get progressively less resigned to the bullshit “Chosen One” fate as the book goes on. They both make it out alive. Maybe everything will be okay. 

But then Rainbow rolls up with a Sex On The Beach and Gucci sunglasses to tell us that “fuck no everything’s not okay.” (She’s right. God, I could go on a rant about how no one ever talks about how you feel when you’ve defeated the villain. When you’ve escaped the dungeon. Hhhhh)

Wayward Son immediately sets Agatha up as even more of a mirror than she was in the first book. We’re shown right away that the two of them are both in a depressed funk. They’re both at “15%” and miserable. These two are echoing each other like NEVER before and I am LIVING for it. 

Like, we even get this amazing bit in Chapter Four:

“That would feel like an answer to... the question of me. Then I could say, ‘Oh, that’s who I am. That’s why I’ve been so confused.’”

They! Are! Struggling!

Now, how does this relate to Simon having literal fucking dragon powers? Good question, thank you for asking. 

In Chapter Fifty-Six, when Pen and Agatha are stuck in the back of Fuckwad Vampire #3′s car, Agatha says this:

“I honestly thought I could walk away from it all-- like magic was a place. Like magic was a person. Or a habit I could break.

When Simon first came to Watford, he couldn’t make his wand work. He could barely cast a spell. He thought they were going to kick him out, that he wasn’t magic enough. 

“You don’t do magic,” Penelope told him. “You are magic.”

I... am magic. 

Whether I like it or not, whether or not I claim it. Whether or not I carry my wand. 

It’s in me, somehow. Blood, water, bone.”

They!! Are!! Both!! Magic!! 

Magic is in them! Magic is with them! They’re made of the stuff! They can’t cut off this part of them, no matter how much they want to. (lmao. talk about good old internalized homophobia. I don’t really have an opinion on what Agatha’s sexuality is, btw. I’m using homophobia as a blanket term because I have no clue what’s up on that front.)

Simon is made of magic. He doesn’t want to remove his wings. Even though he has to hide them. Even though he thinks he’s a Normal now. Like Penny said, “an aeroplane is still an aeroplane even if it’s on the ground.” (I’m not sure that’s verbatim, apologies.)

Simon still has magic. We just can’t see it. He’s made of magic. He is magic. He was literally conceived during a spell. Bitch is as magical as you can get. 

But where is the magic???? Where’d it go???? Hello????

I’m getting there. I promise. First, we need to talk about Ebb. 

Ebb wasn’t only Simon’s weird Aunt figure; she was his mirror. Ebb was what would’ve happened to Simon if he hadn’t rejected the mage at the end of Carry On. Ebb just gave in. She didn’t want to fight anymore, and she figured Shithead The Great knew more than she did. 

God I just fucking hate Mage so much like holy shit. Anyway, anyway. 

Ebb was the strongest magician next to Simon. She didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to use her magic for any great purpose. She just wanted to be. Agatha even reiterates this in the epilogue of Carry On.

 “Like, they couldn’t just let her be.”

(No, Simon doesn’t miss killing things in Wayward. He misses excitement and having a purpose. He mainly misses having a purpose. Not having one of those fucking sucks.)

What the fuck does Ebb have to do with this? Why can’t I just get to the point?

My point is!

My Point IS!

That goddamn dragon with the sheep was supposed to remind you of Ebb.

So, let’s do the math. If 1=1x1= 1 then...

Ebb = Margaret = Simon

Sure, sure we had Simon screeching that he wasn’t a dragon. But Margaret was immediately like, 

“Not yet.” She pets his wing. “Are kitten. Someday dragon. Someday ferocious.”

Simon smells like a dragon, but also apparently “smells like iron.” Whatever the fuck that means. I mean I guess it means that Baz could still sippy sippy. (Which is gonna happen or I’ll eat my own toe.) 

One more thing: 

“I wanted wings,” he says. “I wanted to fly.”

“Why tail?”

“I wanted to be free!”

Gee, that sure sounds like what Agatha was saying earlier, huh?

YEAH OKAY HE’S HALF DRAGON!! WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT!!! WHAT THE FUCK AM I ON ABOUT!!!!

Omg thank you for asking. I’m going to blow your mind with my final point. 

The Final Point: The Baz Problem.

Wayward Son is, by all accounts, Baz’s book. It develops everyone beautifully and everyone has an arc, but this book is where Baz gets to shine. 

We found out in this book that vampires are immortal.

This introduced a whole new issue, an issue that surfaces every time immortality is introduced as a possibility for one character but not the rest. 

Someday, Baz will be left alone.

He’ll inevitably outlive everyone he cares about. We all know our poor, beautiful, delicate bastard boy couldn’t take it. How deeply he cares is his most beautiful and wonderful trait, and this could break him. 

I wonder, how long does a dragon live?

Penny talks about the improbability of Simon and Baz in Chapter Three. 

“Star-cross’d lovers. ‘From forth the fatal loins of these two foes.’ The whole shebang.”

Simon’s magic was always described as smoke and fire. The first creature we learn about Simon fighting was a dragon. (Chapter 1, first page of Carry On)

“You’ve slain a dragon, Simon. Surely you can manage a long walk and a few buses.”

 God, I just really hate Bitchface the Mage. Anywho.

Simon. The One Who Came to End Us. Simon. The One To Save Us All. Simon is the dragon and the knight. He’s his own worst enemy. His arc will be completed once he accepts the “dragon” part of himself. It’s poetic as fuck, I must admit. 

Simon has to find love and care for himself, and then this baby dragon will be grown. He’ll be “on top” as Margaret had said. (God, could you imagine all the dragons waking up? How fucking epic would THAT be? Fingers crossed.)

The monster that drains living things and the monster that burns all in its wake. These losers are starcrossed, but they complete each other. Dumbasses. I just love them so much why can’t they get their shit together. 

Simon and Baz’s storylines are utterly intertwined. They’re perfectly matched. Simon might not know it, but their hearts are already tied together; they beat in sync. They’re two stars orbiting each other. And, if we’re all very lucky, maybe they won’t crash. Maybe this story won’t end in flames. 

So, in conclusion, I really really really want Simon to breathe fire. The only other way I could see this twisting is the wings somehow going away and Simon getting a regular-magician amount of magic. That’s kinda lame tho and doesn’t complete his arc correctly. This dumb boy is a dragon now and there’s nothing we can do about it. (EDIT: actually yeah simon’s not gonna lose his wings no way in fuck. check out my meta.)  Also? I would sell my soul to see Simon getting really possessive over really weird objects for his hoard. 

Thank you for sticking with me this far, dear reader. I’ll leave you with this thought: Baz is Donkey and Simon is the dragon from Shrek. 

Check out my other meta on the future of simon and baz’s relationship and how penny and agatha relate 

scarf meta as well check it

Gonna be tagging peeps so this can circulate better. 

@carrybits @neck-mole @watfordwallflower

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 15.5 OR Chapter 16

➜ Words: 2.7k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

It’s getting harder to understand Taehyung. And even harder to comprehend your reaction.

  “Hold my book for a second, dumbo.” He rudely chucks it aside, and you barely manage to catch it. It’s piled on top of the other textbooks you’re holding for him like a maid, the tower tipping back and forth, nearly spilling all to the ground.    Your glare is unforgiving. “Can’t you ask me nicel—”   Taehyung suddenly drops down. “Your shoelaces are untied.”    “O-oh.”   The college student ties your sneakers gingerly, making sure they’re secure. He loops two bunny ears around the knot and then stands up with a smile. “All done! Now you won’t trip. I can’t always be there to catch you.”   Taehyung takes his book off the pile you’re holding and walks off. You’re left staring at his backside before you pick up the pace, unable to help feeling a little perplexed and caught off guard.    It’s becoming increasingly difficult to understand him and predict his actions — but it’s not like they were ever predictable in the first place. He’s always had a knack for spontaneity. It’s your susceptibility to surprise, that’s changed.    “I know you said you weren’t hungry—” Taehyung sits down across the picnic table and slides a brown bag towards you. “—but I got you the jelly doughnut. It was on discount. You liked this one, right?”   “Y-yeah. Thanks.”    You watch him go to town on his hash brown, chomping like a ravenous beast.   You’re agitated, muddled, but also more than that. You’re not sure what this emotion is. It’s puzzling to pinpoint, challenging and strenuous on your mind. You just know it’s different from annoyance, disenchantment, and the usual disenthrallment.    “Oh, look!”   Taehyung’s pointing to your left shoulder. When you look down, you’re unable to see what he’s indicating. Running out of patience and without thinking twice, he leans himself over. You flinch back on natural instinct, but he’s undeterred, paying no mind to the reaction that’s conditioned you since childhood.   You feel his chest hovering above yours, thin lips a millimeter away, and you hold your breath. But Taehyung’s eyes are nowhere near your body; his stare isn’t greasy or purposely flirtatious.    It stays quiet for a moment too long before he draws back.    “It’s a ladybug.” Taehyung shows you with a grin, one that had landed on your shoulder, and one he sets down into the grass behind him. “See you later, little guy.”   You’re absolutely bewildered, though finally able to breathe again.   There are times Taehyung’s unbearably cheesy and teasing, trying to get under your skin or vying for a reaction when he yearns for a kind of attention he receives from nowhere else, much like how he was when he was a kid. But the times that affect you the most are his unintentional actions — when he’s being sincere, genuine, his innocent self.    You’re not sure what to think of it. It’s confusing.   And the worst part is you can’t comprehend Taehyung lately — your own head’s become chaotic and you’re not quite certain of the reason for it.    “Y/N, hang on tight.” Taehyung pedals harder and glances over his shoulder. “The road ahead’s under construction. It’s gonna be bumpy.”   “Want to switch spots?”   “Nope,” he sings. “Just hold onto me.”   You obliged, grasping onto him, locking your wrists together around his waist.    Apparently it’s not enough. “Tighter.”   Your head leans on him, front pressed against his back, holding on. Taehyung laughs, the noise drawing out from his chest, and you can already envision his satisfied grin. “Good.”   You wonder since when his laugh became so melodic and pleasant to listen to.   It seems when he’s not trying whatsoever, he’s the most charming. When Taehyung’s not trying to flirt or retain intense eye contact or shower you in excessive compliments — and instead being his mischievous self, caring in quiet ways without making a whole show about it, laughing and smiling — he’s the most charismatic, much like his dad.   The magnetism that draws people in seems to run through the Kim blood.   Maybe you just never realized it before, but stepping back from your own biases and objectively analyzing him, Taehyung is rather appealing. He has a handful of good traits, and you’ve noticed the way females and males murmur as he walks past or stares across the room, not quite because of malicious rumours either or due to his status.    He’s a tall, strapping, blonde fellow. Even before when he had shaggy hair and was trying to grow a moustache, he wasn’t terrible on the eyes. Now that you recognize it, you gotta give it to him...he’s impressive in many ways.   You wonder why you’re only recognizing this now.    Why you didn’t see it sooner.   Maybe your childhoods that overlapped inhibited your perception and clouded your judgment, or perhaps you had learnt to overlook such trivial details.    But if there’s one thing that you’re beginning to learn about Taehyung, it’s that he’s the most attractive when he’s serious. You wish more people saw him like this — they wouldn’t take his words or opinions for granted otherwise.    Though now that you know this, you don’t really need a front row ticket to it...   “You want to what?”   “I want to draw you.”   “Absolutely not.”   “Why?” Taehyung pouts and he doesn’t know it’s because you don’t want him to stare at you intently, because it would be too intimate for your liking. As good as you are at pretending you’re a statue at social events, this is not part of your job description. The last thing you are is a piece of art. “I promise it’ll be quick. Half an hour, tops. I just need a rough sketch of someone as part of my portfolio.”   A sigh befalls your lips. “Can’t you pick someone else?”   “I don’t have anyone else. C’mon, it’s for school. Don’t you have to make sure I’m doing well in my schooling too?”   “But…” You look down at yourself. You’re not one to pay mind to futile things like your outer appearance, but you know you’re not in appropriate attire to be sketched. Once it’s permanently on paper, there’s no going back or reversing time. “I’m not even dressed properly, Taehyung.”   “You look fine,” he emphasizes and reaches over, grabbing your elbow. Taehyung walks you towards the center of the small studio. He turns you away from the sunlight, holds your shoulders and scoots you an inch to his right until it’s to his liking. “There. Good. Now stay still, okay?”   He smiles and struts back, plopping down onto his stool. With a sketchbook in hand, he looks up and begins.    The sound of graphite scratching against the paper fills the space between the four walls. It’s awkward, dreadful as you stare straight at him, and you release your held breath. “Do you want me to pose?”   “No.” There’s a full ten seconds of silence. “Just stay still.”   You feel out of place, stiff. The only thing you do is blink and barely breathe, not wanting to ruin his efforts.   “Can I ask you something, dumbo?” Taehyung mutters out of the corner of his mouth, eyes still pinned to his sketchbook.   “I...guess.”   “It’s kind of a stupid question, but I’m really curious as to what you’ll answer. So….think about it before you answer.” He hesitates for a moment and then goes for the kill. “Would you ever date me?”   “What?” You blink at him, unsure how to answer.   “Don’t move,” he suddenly barks out and you freeze at once, catching yourself halfway to stepping forward. “Thanks. Anyways I said, would you ever hypothetically date me or go out with me?”   “I don’t date.”   “Yeah, but let’s pretend that you did,” he mutters again and doesn’t even look at you properly to read your expression. Taehyung’s still concentrated, brows furrowed, the tip of his tongue peeking past the seam of his lips. His pencil comes out to measure something and then he quickly returns to the sketchbook. It’s not uncomfortable when he’s not full on staring and waiting for you to respond. There’s less pressure when he gives you time to reply.   “Well….that would be highly unprofessional. I’m your bodyguard—”   “Then let’s pretend you’re not,” he says carelessly as if this is small talk or a game of ‘would you rather’ to pass the time and make you less bored.   You hum, unintentionally relaxing in your spot as you give in and consider this what-if scenario he’s handed to you. “In a hypothetical world where I happen to have enough time and commitment to want to even date and I’m not your bodyguard and we happen to run into each other and we got the opportunity to go out….in a non-platonic sense…”   “Yes.”   “I….don’t know.”   “Wow, that’s it?” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls, but it’s a dangerous question. You’re uncertain of what he wants you to say, what you want to say. The possibility of such a circumstance makes your palms clammy.   “Well, I wouldn’t know.” You shrug. “You kind of have to be in the moment to know.”   “Hmmmm, I see.” The artist at work nods to himself. “Interesting.”   As reckless as it is, you find yourself asking, “How about you?”   “Me? Yeah, I’d date you. If you’d even let me.” Taehyung laughs and a smile appears on your face. He announces it like he’s so sure of himself, and it almost makes you...nervous. But you’re probably sweating from the heat of the room. “I don’t see why not.”   “But why me?” you question. “Like you said, I’m emotionally stunted. And I wouldn’t be able to offer you anything.” It doesn’t make sense to you — you’re not exciting, adventurous, or fun. The type of person you imagine Taehyung to be with, you can’t find any shred of it in yourself.    In fact, you feel more like a drag on people’s lives. The sidekick or background character that helps them accomplish one mission and hints them to the next. Never the hero. Most certainly never the love interest.   Taehyung’s hand pauses.   He glances at you with a frown, earnest in his words. “Don’t sell yourself short. Seriously.”   The student continues his sketch. “You’re responsible and hard-working and smart and capable. Most people aren’t like that. They’re not like you. And you keep me grounded. Make sure I don’t make stupid fucking decisions and end up breaking my legs.”   The corner of your mouth pulls again. “Okay, fine. That’s fair. But is it really enough to date me in this hypothetical world?”   “In this hypothetical world,” he pauses to inhale, “Yes. But there’s so much more than that. I wish you knew. I’d be the lucky one here. Not the other way around.”   Your face heats. He gives you more credit than you deserve, but you appreciate the wholehearted praise. For once, he’s not trying to butter you to succumb to whatever he wants, to get you to roll your eyes and banter with him. There’s nothing he can gain from it. It’s meaningful and you’re brought back to the time he told you no one could replace you...   “This is going to sound so lame and I know for a fact it’s one sided,” Taehyung mumbles as his eraser scrapes along the drawing you can’t discern from this distance, “but you’re my best friend, Y/N.”   Your chest is tight and you meet his eyes, staring at each other. His pencil continues to move on the paper, having sketched your curves, the dips of your waist, the slope of your nose, shape of your lips and strands of your hair.   “It’s not one-sided.”   Taehyung smiles.   He looks down and the rest of the time is spent quietly as he tries to finish, focusing. The conversation sinks down onto your shoulders and unlike his promise, it lasts longer than an hour. But you don’t find it difficult to stay in place anymore under his gaze.   Eventually, he finishes and sets his pencil down with a grin. “Good enough. You wanna see?”   “Yes. In case you wasted an hour of my life….” You walk over, dragging your sleeping leg behind you to peer over his shoulder. At once, your expression wipes away.   He looks up at you in worry. “What do you think?”   “It’s….pretty decent,” you admit with an approving nod. “I look so….” Pretty. Happy.    The sketch isn’t so rough as he said it would be. It’s a clear drawing of you, standing with arms behind your back, facial expression melted into a sheepish smile. It’s uncanny to how you remember your mother when you used to look at her, back before she became worn down, cynical, disappointed in how her own life turned out.   You wonder if this is how Taehyung sees you. In a way that’s so lovely and carefree.   “It better be decent. My hand hurts.” He shakes it and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. “I’m beat too.”   “Can I get a copy of it? When you’re done….”   Taehyung sets his notebook down on the table and spins around in pleasant shock. “You like it that much?” A stupidly wide grin begins to expand into his cheeks.   You try to shrug casually. “It’s not bad.”   He walks across the room, falling onto the worn sofa in the corner. “I’ll let you have the original when I get it back. Come here.” Taehyung pats a spot beside him, but you glance at the watch on your wrist.   “Shouldn’t we go get dinner?”   “Yeah, but I’m so tired. Let me rest for a second.” Once you give in, moving to sit down beside him, he scoots closer to you. Side-eyeing Taehyung only causes him to smile. “Thanks, dumbo, for letting me draw you.”   “It’s fine. Better than your idea of going bungee jumping.”   “I still wanna do that.”   “Maybe when it’s not my shift.”   “So you can actually join me?”   “So I’m not responsible if something goes wrong.”   He bursts out with a scoff and a laugh before settling down, tearing his eyes away from the profile of your face he had tried to recreate on paper and failed. He shifts to look straight ahead instead. Another thought bubbles to the surface of his consciousness. “In a hypothetical world where we never grew up together, where you weren’t my bodyguard, if I wasn’t the President’s son, and we met here...do you think you’d be my friend?”   “What’s up with you and hypotheticals today?”   “I just wish things were different.”   “Different how?”   “I don’t know,” he says, but you think he does know.   You don’t push him to tell you if he doesn’t want to.   It goes quiet.   Every blink that is taken is heavy. The exhaustion of the day catches up to you, muscles sore, feet aching. But you’re suddenly broken out of your trance when there’s a newfound weight on your shoulder. You flinch from the affection, yet Taehyung stays, chest rising and falling.   He’s leaning on your shoulder, fast asleep.   Your eyes soften, staring at the icy blonde strands of his hair. Your breath steadies and you sigh gently, allowing him to stay.   You don’t notice the way Taehyung’s mouth tugs upwards discreetly, how he sheepishly smiles, noticing the change. Just a month ago, he had tried the same thing and you shoved him off without waiting a single beat….   And just like that, he falls asleep on you, lulled by your scent and warmth.   It’s now that you’re sitting right beside him, peace allowing you to think, that you can finally put your finger on the feeling that’s been brewing inside of you ever since he embraced your body in his bed, underneath his covers, and the pair of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You know it now. And it brings a whole plethora of emotions washing down on you — confusion, worry, fear.    You’re agitated, muddled, but also more than that. It’s different from annoyance, disenchantment, and the usual disenthrallment. It’s fluster.   Kim Taehyung’s made you flustered.

[britishboystm]

American Girl- Matthew (Here Are The Young Men)

A/N: Might make this into a series? Also yes for those wondering I have been working on Boy in the Basement, I should have it posted tomorrow or Friday. Also if there are any Irish readers, I am so sorry😂 I tried my best for the characters to sound authentic but idk it might sound weird.

Warnings: swearing, heavy drug use and drinking, sexual content but not complete smut

Part 2

—

I woke up feeling like shite. After last night's carnage of drink and drugs I felt like my head was swimming. Almost like a fish tank.

But I knew if I stayed in bed all day my da was going to lay into me.

“Matthew, get your sorry ass down here!” The last thing I needed with this fucking headache. The sun slightly burned my eyes as I hesitantly opened them, making me squint and groan in pain.

Did the speed Rez score always do this? My head hurts too bad to think about it. I slowly get myself out of bed and threw on a shirt before walking downstairs.

“Morning Matthew.” My ma tried to be pleasant. I groan in return.

“See this is the problem. You think he’s going anywhere, doing god know what every night? The fact that the school let him graduate is beyond me.”

I chose to ignore him as he flails his arms and yells at no one in particular. I just sit there and eat my cereal.

“Do you hear me Matthew?” My da says, sounding defeated. All I hear is whooshing and ringing in my inner ears. Oh yeah, that speed definitely had something in it.

“I’m meeting up with Kearney and Rez.” I show no emotions with my words. With that I get up, bring my dishes to the kitchen and head back upstairs to change. He starts yelling at me again but it all just sounds like white noise.

—

“Fuck this place.” Kearney says as he hands me the spliff and exhales two big clouds of smoke from his nostrils, similar to an angered dragon.

“Yeah, fuck it.” I wanted to give a smart or witty response but I couldn’t find anything in my hazy brain, let alone sober.

“Suck my cock Dublin!” He yells out to the ocean, suddenly standing up and throwing his arms in the air. I laugh slightly and take another swig of my canned Guinness.

“You lads want to go roam the upper streets?” Rez tries to get the group on a walk. He hasn’t said much, his eyes hiding behind his darkened sunglasses even though it was a bit overcast. I didn’t ask.

“And fuck with the richies? Hell yes!” Kearney jumps up slightly in excitement. He didn’t have much going on in his life. Hell, none of us did.

We got on the DART and made our way uptown to where the nicer neighbourhoods were, along the coast. I think Kearney has something against some girl from school who rejected him once. She happened to live in the area so he led the way. He was on a mission.

Once we made it, we start roaming the streets. Dublin didn’t have much to offer so this was class act entertainment for us right here.

“Cara, Cara? Where are you, you bitch?” Kearney was acting like a raging lunatic. I couldn’t help but cringe at his drunken state. I was messed up too so I didn’t pay it much mind.

As we passed rows and rows of big houses, I ended up drowning out Keanreys babbling to admire how nice they were. I sometimes dreamed about living in one of them. Fat chance though, with the way I finished school. A joke of an education I got.

The three of us stayed silent most of the way and were almost about to turn around when Kearney started yelling again.

“Ey, you! Didn’t you go to our school?” Rez and I turn our heads to see a girl, receiving the mail out front. She looks over and leans against her door frame.

“Who’s asking?” She yells back. She wasn’t Irish. She was American.

“Your next fuck, love!” He grabs his crotch and sticks his tongue out. She raises her eyebrows before letting out a laugh.

She had a nice laugh.

She continues to laugh and bends over slightly, overly showing just how funny she found his comment, clearly trying to hurt Kearney’s pride before closing the door behind her.

She was something else.

Kearney turns around, a proud smirk on his face.

“I’m in, boyos.” We both roll our eyes and grab Kearney, walking away before we got in any trouble.

—

Once we had gotten back from fucking around in uptown, we settled in Jen’s living room with some spliffs and MTV music videos playing on the telly.

Since Jen and I’s awkward hook up, it felt weird hanging out with her. I notice her flirting with Cocker who had showed up from fuck knows where. It’s obvious she is trying to get under my skin. I attempt to ignore it by focusing on the hash in front of me but it’s actually making it worse. Thinking about the hash mixed with the vodka we were passing around made my stomach hurt.

“Remember that girl in uptown earlier. God the arse on that one.” Kearney groaned suddenly as he threw his head back on the back of the couch. A feeling of anger bubbled inside of me.

“And an American none the less. I would love to just-“ He pretended as though he was eating her out.

I didn’t say anything, hoping Christina Aguliera in assless chaps would settle my nerves. It didn’t. All it did was make me think about the girl’s arse that Keanrey wouldn’t shut up about.

“Problem Connelly?” Keanrey smirks and raises his eyebrow at me. He knew he was taunting me. All the heads in the room turned towards the small confrontation, waiting for an answer since there wasn’t anything else interesting happening.

I shrug, not wanting to start anything. Especially when I was high off my rocker.

“Actually I’m going to head out.” I don’t even bother looking back at them as I attempt to lift myself off of the couch and towards the front door. A wave of faintness hits me from getting up too fast. The hash settling in nicely.

“Aww, Connelly I was only joking! I still got some poppers that we can split. Stick around!” I open and close the door behind me, starting the travel home.

—

I laid awake, thinking about that American girl in uptown. She seemed familiar from school but was never in any of my classes. Probably in all advanced ones. I knew there was an American since people always talked about her like it was super interesting, but I never saw her in person. Now I have.

She did have a gorgeous arse. A gorgeous face as well. These images came into my thoughts, thanks to Kearneys observations from earlier.

It was as though my hand had a mind of its own as it travelled into my boxers and started to stroke my dick.

Nothing but her bending over in laughter showing off her tits filled my mind. Then the smile she gave before she swiftly shut her front door had me speeding up my movements.

I imagined her laying in my bed, while I went down on her, that smile making an appearance. Then once more where she took my load in her mouth, looking up at me with an innocent look in her eyes.

Beads of sweat dripped down my face and the sound of my groans and heavy breathing filled the room. I wanted to know her name so bad so I could say it while I finished.

Once I finally hit my peak, my cum ended up all over my stomach and hands, my head collapsing on my pillow in exhaustion.

I felt too lazy to grab the usual hand towel I used for these occasions so I wiped myself off with a pair of boxers I had laying around on my floor.

I tried to steady my breathing as I thought about the American girl. I hadn’t even talked to her before and this was what she was doing to me…

Fuck.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 73

This is, from a technical perspective, one of the most challenging chapters I have ever written.  Out of six characters mentioned in this chapter, five are based off real people, most of which have only interacted online. That meant a lot of emailing and getting second and third opinions, hashing out details...

I am inordinately proud of the result.   I think this is one of my favorite chapters to date, honestly.  I hope @charlylimph-blog​, @satan-parisienne​, and @baelpenrose​ are proud of it, too.

(P.S. Don’t forget to submit your ideas for the name of the new colony!)

The next few days were a glut of good news. I was, admittedly, riding high on the success Simon reported in regards to the Galactic Education course, which was only bolstered by Alistair’s ever-more-excited updates about what he was learning – in Simon’s section, of all places.  Reports from Grey indicated that everyone on the ship was recovering well from the medical crisis that Else inadvertently caused.  Miys was doing everything they could to make Nixe a new, upgraded tail and replacement weights before she was finally released from medical.  Else, themselves, were adjusting well to their newfound homes… likely bolstered by the borderline-competitive aquascaping that was taking place in some of the aquariums, each equipped with a modified translation implant so we could check on Else’s health.

They were a bacterium. Did they really need tiny rollercoasters that they could eat?  Someone thought so, apparently. You could even watch a live feed of it, if you wanted.

Between all the good news and the sheer amount of reading I was engrossed in regarding the personnel files, I hadn’t seen anyone outside of work or home.  Not even my family.  Tyche and Alistair at work, with occasional visits from Xiomara and Grey.  Conor and Maverick at home, talking about our days over dinner.  I made a point to check in on Derek and Sam every couple days, but trusted the rest of my family to let me know if there was something they felt the need to tell me.

Maybe that’s why it took so long.  I hadn’t even realized that three weeks had passed since the last time I saw Charly until she burst into my office, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.  “I made it out of the room before falling apart,” she blurted out with a painful smile as those drops rolled down her cheeks.  Immediately, I bolted around my desk to the smaller woman, coaxing her to a seat to figure out what was wrong.  My protective instincts went into overdrive, forcing me to calculate just how likely I was to take Coffey in a fight.  Not likely, but he would know it happened, I decided as I took a deep breath.

“Charly, what’s wrong?”

She made three aborted attempts to tell me, sniffing back tears the entire time, before she finally broke and blurted out, “I can’t do it. Please don’t make me. This is just like the last time.  I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. I just… I can’t. I know it’s mandatory, but – “

“Charly,” I repeated. “Nothing that makes you this upset is mandatory.  And you aren’t stupid, not close.  Everyone on this fucking ship is smart, including you.  So, tell me who I have to kill – or maim, I’ll settle for maiming if I have to – so we can fix this.”

After a couple of deep breaths, she nodded. “The class. I just can’t understand it… no matter how many questions I ask, no matter how much I study, it just doesn’t make sense.  Mr. Farro is right, I’m just an idiot…”

I made a cutting gesture with my hand and whistled sharply. “Mr. Farro? The teacher told you that you’re an idiot?” Every flame in every hell started boiling inside of me.  Processor two started gathering every creative torture method I had ever heard of while processors one and three focused on the woman in front of me.

She shook her head. “Not that exactly, no.  When I kept asking questions, he told me that the material is literally in my native language, so what didn’t I understand, and just kind of glared at me until I stopped asking questions, and now I’m so far behind and I’m failing and…” She dissolved into sobs again.

“Okay.” I forced myself to be calm when all I wanted to do was tear apart this… monster who made her feel this way.  How in all of creation did someone like this ever get certified to teach? How did Eino not catch this kind of thing? “I’m going to have Coffey come get you and take you home.  I’m going to stay right here until he arrives, okay?”  When she nodded, I flicked up my datapad and sent a short message to her partner that she was in my office and needed him to pick her up.

“You’re going to meet Tempest,” she whispered when I handed her a hot cocoa.  

When Coffey arrived a few minutes later, a shadow fell over his face when he heard Charly crying.  She had warned me about this… another side of him that she would only refer to as Tempest.  Seeing him now, the name was very appropriate.  “Who did this?” he asked, his voice deep enough to send shivers down my spine – and not pleasant ones. It was the voice I imagined Hades possessed.

I held my head high and tightened my arms around Charly. “Someone else.  Someone I need to deal with.  But I don’t trust anyone else to take care of her while I do that.”  Both sides of him were incredibly protective of her, with no limits to what they would do.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “I will deal with it.”

A brief flash of Coffey/Tempest standing head and shoulders over an educator flooded my mind. I shook my head. “I know what you would do, and I don’t see it ending well for anyone.  Charly needs you.  I can handle this, and I need you to make sure Charly is going to be okay until I’m done.”  Swallowing my fear, I stared him down.  Tempest could be dangerous, to anyone they didn’t consider theirs – never without a reason, but still.  I didn’t know if I fell in that category, but I knew good and damned well that Charly did.

Fortunately, she chose that moment to speak up. “Please take me home, Tempest.  I know I’ll be safe at home, with you.”

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded before coming over to pick Charly up.  Unlike the fireman’s carry that Coffey usually used in a joking manner, Tempest carried her like a kitten – a precious, fragile thing.  She moved just enough to snuggle against him, clearly protected. “You will tell me if you cannot handle this.” The last, addressed to me, was a command.

“I promise.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and mentally reminded myself that he posed no danger to anyone who was trying to protect Charly.  However, when a man that large is scowling at you, you sweat.

Once they left, my brain very quickly turned to the matter at hand – Arthur fucking Farro.  Even if Charly wasn’t someone I considered family, few things in my life ever enraged me like a purported educator who belittled students with questions.  I had already spent hours with Simon and Tyche, picking that subject apart and giving him advice on what to watch for. Full of piss, vinegar, and righteous indignation, I marched out of my office and straight to Xiomara’s.

When I burst in, she was clearly in the middle of a meeting, but in that moment, I didn’t care. “Xiomara, I need a witness in case I decide to do something stupid.”  Without checking to see if she followed, I turned on my heel and started my journey to the educator offices. On the way, I ran into Tyche.  My poor, unsuspecting sister was staring intently at her datapad while she tried to walk past me to her office.  I stood directly in front of her, forcing her to glance up. “Good, I need a second witness. Come on.”

“What? Wait – “ she sputtered as I heard Xiomara catch up.

“One of the educators made Charly feel like an idiot and she was crying.” With that, I resumed my pilgrimage.  I could hear Tyche swear softly behind me and start interrogating Xiomara, who knew as much as Tyche did at that point.

That’s okay, I mentally assured myself. We’re almost there.

I stopped outside the office that was ostensibly assigned to the cad I was after.  Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. The moment I started to opened my mouth to request entry, strong fingers grabbed my shoulders.

I whirled, only to meet Xiomara’s eyes. “Arthur Farro is teaching Charly’s unit?” she asked, squinting at me skeptically.  When I nodded, she only turned her head slightly, still staring me down. “And you’re going to confront him.”

“What else am I supposed to – ”

An evil gleam flickered in her eye as she straightened, smoothing my shirt. “This is going to be good,” she smirked before giving me a nod to proceed.

I lifted my chin, trying to imitate Tyche’s most imperious demeanor. “Arthur Farro, this is Sophia Reid, requesting entry.”

Without a reply, the door slid open to reveal a sparsely furnished office.  A simple and practical deck sat in a far corner, two equally practical chairs across from it.  The occupant was seated with his back to the corner, facing toward the door.  I couldn’t say he was facing us, because he was absorbed in what was on his datapad.

Just as I was opening my mouth to lash out, he spoke up. “Hello, Councillors. I take it someone in my course came to you, begging to be exempted from having to actually learn how the Galactic Community functions?  Because, gods forbid I expect people to study.” With a tone that was so dry it could teach the Sahara a lesson, he glanced up and deadpanned. “Horrid of me, I know. I mean, sure. Lacking understanding of the galactic community that we just joined should cause us no shortage of issues – just look how pre-Unification Earth politics worked.  But I’m sure that’s not an important subject to stress over.”

Oh, it was on. “First of all, do not call me Councillor right now. I am not here in any official capacity.  Instead I am here for a very personal and pissed off reason.” When he started to open his mouth, I cut him off. “Charly Harper.  She is in your classes.  She also came to me today - sobbing by the way - because she felt like a failure.  A very bright, very intelligent adult woman was sobbing my office because of you,” I spat before continuing. “No student, not a single fucking one should feel that way. So-called ‘teachers’ like you make me sick, with your power trips and holier-than-thou attitude.  You are in a position to improve people, and instead you degrade them - “ I cut off when I noticed him gesturing emphatically at Xiomara, who only shrugged and shook her head.  “I am fucking talking to you, Farro.   Me, not Xiomara. She is not here to help you, she is here to keep me from doing something monumentally stupid.  If this is how you treat your classes, I’m frankly appalled that you were ever certified to teach a dog, much less a child.” I stopped, panting.

Brown eyes gazed at me with an unflinching expression. “Are you done? Feel better that you’ve lashed out at the monstrous teacher?” I opened my mouth, only for him to shake his head. “No. You said your piece, now you get to hear mine.  I am well aware that Miss Harper is intelligent - her pranks alone show me that. If you haven’t experienced them, I fervently hope you have the chance, because they are simply breathtaking in their complexity and subtlety.  However, I am therefore entirely at a loss for how she is doing so poorly in this class." He took off his glasses and rubbed his face before replacing them. "She asks questions, I do my best to answer them, even though it eats up so much class time. I have asked her to stop by my office outside of class, hoping I can take more time to ensure she understands the material… I know we are covering government right now, but still.   She has never stopped by for assistance.  I even checked that the translators were sending the material in the right language!”  His face settled into another flat stare. “So, when  you come in here and decide to attack me with all the restraint and thought of a rabid lemming, know that I am doing everything I can to try to assist her.  She’s clearly bright, so she should be able to understand the material.”

I waited three seconds, until I knew for sure he was done. At that point, I took a deep breath. “Yes, Mr. Farro, she is very intelligent.” I turned my gaze up to his face, my best imitation of Tyche’s glare clear for all to see. “Charly. Also. Has. A. Fucking. Learning. Disability,” I ground out, stepping forward with each word. When I stopped, we were glaring at each other across his desk.

Abruptly, he straightened and looked thoughtful. “Oh. Well, that explains it. I can work with that.”

“You fucking better, Farro. She may not be my blood, but she is my family.  You fuck with her, you fuck with me. Or with Tyche. Take your pick.”

He glanced over my shoulder at my sister, who was undoubtedly giving a much more murderous impression that I would ever be able to pull off.  When he looked back at me, I was treated to a scowl. “You remind me a disturbing amount of someone I knew once.  She also had a tendency to lay claim to ‘family’ that were no actual relation to her, and she was fiercely protective of them.  There were so many  times she didn’t stand up for herself when she should have, but she would have jumped into a volcano for her ‘family’.”

“Sounds like you could have learned a thing or two from her,” I tossed back at him, unwilling to flinch at the entirely-too-apt comparison. “Maybe then, she would be here instead of you.” As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them.  I knew I had gone entirely too far, no matter what came next.

I didn’t get a chance to apologize, however.  Before I could even open my mouth, he sneered at me. “Funny. I would be more than happy to have her here instead of the less-stable discount imitation that is taking low shots and squawking at me about not knowing something no. One. Told. Me.”

“It’s in her file. Section 3, Line 5.”

“Well, that would be helpful if I had ever gotten the files.” He ground his teeth hard enough to be heard from where I stood.

I sputtered. “Wait, you never got it? Wait - Files? Plural?”

“No, Councilor Reid - “

“Sophia”

“No, Councilor Reid, I did not get any of the files for the students in any of my sections.  Otherwise, I would have read them thoroughly.  People who ignore student needs and call themselves educators are sadists with the intellect of coked-up chimps - and work about as well in a classroom”

I was at a loss for words.  It was disturbingly similar to what I had thought on my way to confront him.  Inhaling deeply, I schooled my expression and tried to regain my composure.  “Mr. Farro, I am clearly in the wrong here.  Files regarding anything that would require accommodation were sent - were supposed to be sent - to all of the teachers, two weeks before course assignments were issued.  Just in case any educators weren’t trained to accommodate. As far as what you just said - “ I looked away, ashamed. “That’s exactly why I was so angry when I came in. I didn’t know that you never received the files, so I assumed you were one of those sadists you just mentioned. I - I am so sorry for my behavior. I know I can’t make this right.” I flicked open my datapad. “But at least let me get you those student files and find out what happened.” When he nodded, I shot a message to Derek requesting the files be sent immediately to all of the educators, by Derek, no one else.  When I got the response, the words ‘rank amateur’ and ‘ignore any isolated mechanical failures in regards to’ caught my eye before I quickly dismissed the screen.  Plausible deniability was sorely underrated sometimes. Facing Farro, again, I braced myself. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I truly do regret that I didn’t ask for your side before tearing into you like that.  Even though I am not in any position to ask for favors, please just don’t take this out on Charly.  Hate me all you want, but she didn’t ask me to do this.  She just came into my office begging to drop the course.”

He stared at me for an agonizing heartbeat before relaxing and waving off my request.  My heart sank until he spoke. “I would never take someone else’s behavior out on Charly, or on any other student.” A measuring look targeted me. “You had a lot of those teachers that punished the entire class because one student wouldn’t stop being disruptive, didn’t you?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled in agreement.  More confidently, I clarified. “I think all of us have been punished entirely too many times for the mistakes of other people. Maybe some of us were lucky enough to only experience that in the After, but some of us got a taste of that as children, too.”

“You know…” he slowly ventured. “Even in the Before, that kind of behavior was beyond appalling.”

I nodded. “It was a war crime, actually.  A friend told me that once.”

He had been looking away, trying to find something, but his head abruptly snapped up. “Yes! It’s against the Geneva Convention!”

“That’s what he told me, yeah.”

Farro sat in his chair and leaned back, tilting his head to stare at the ceiling. “You know, technically, collective punishment of children isn’t a war crime.  The Geneva Convention was intended to apply to prisoners of war, not civilians in a time of peace.”

“Ah, ah!” I scolded, shaking a finger at him. The previous tension in the room bled away as we seemed to find common ground. “I grew up in the United States.  Prior to the Unification, we were always at war.  It’s part of what led to the establishment of Global Parliament.”

He smirked softly, but judging by the fact that he was looking past me, it was more at a memory than at me. “That doesn’t automatically make you a prisoner of war.”

“No, but it does mean I was a civilian of a protected class, who was denied their human rights and had collective punishment used against me in a time of war.” I crossed my arms and stuck my nose in the air, trying to keep the conversation from getting to heated again.  Slyly I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

“You weren’t forcibly detained.”

“Au contraire, mon frere! I was a child. I was forcibly detained at all times, one could argue.”

He shook his head while giving me a shrewd look. “That is such a technicality.  It reminds me of the time my friend - the one I mentioned - tried to argue that international diplomacy was like dating.”

I giggled, surprised by the turn of conversation, and joked, “I told a very close friend once that foreign relations at the time could be greatly improved by the proper application of pot roast.”

Farro didn’t laugh.  Instead, he looked like I had punched him in the chest. “With a chocolate pie.. for dessert…” he whispered, steadily getting paler and paler.

By this point, Xiomara’s composure had gone from one of barely-constrained mirth to one of confusion, matching Tyche. I felt my stomach try to drop out of the FTL field as the ghost of a friend long since gone started screaming in my mind.  “He said not to kick the ass of anyone I’m dating…at least not in the declaration of war sense…”

Without missing a beat, he nodded. “And you said that if ghosting them as a form of embargo doesn’t work…”

“Bring out the heavy weaponry and go for a scorched-earth breakup,” I whispered hoarsely.  There was no possibility.

As Farro and I stood there in dumbstruck silence, I heard Xiomara ask Tyche “What are they talking about?”

“I have no idea,” my sister hissed back.

“But you speak fluent Reidish!”

“That isn’t what’s happening here,” she pleaded.  When I turned to her, I saw eyes that begged for an explanation. 

All I could do was give her a pleading glance before I turned back to meet Farro’s equally stunned expression.  “Fee?” he finally asked with a querulous tone.

That was all I had to hear. “Silannod?” Behind me, there was a yelp.  No doubt, it was Tyche realizing who I was speaking to.  I tried to smile, but I knew it was watery. “I told you I would survive the apocalypse.  It wasn’t zombies, but still…” ‘Silannod’ was the online name of a very good friend of mine from Before.  We never had the chance to meet in person, but we had spent hours each day talking about writing, books we liked, politics of the time… Anything that would have been too controversial for a casual acquaintance, we discussed as fervently as if we could solve all the problems of the world.  Even Tyche had been familiar with them, and had heard me talk about our conversations.

When the world ended, I counted them among the dead.  And now, looking him in the face, it was clear that he had done the same for me.

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[animebw]

Short Reflection: Mind Game

And thus begins my journey into the filmography of one last acclaimed anime director: Masaaki Yuasa. I’m familiar with Yuasa’s work from watching Devilman Crybaby and The Tatami Galaxy for this blog, as well as Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken, so I already know he’s the real deal. His stories are among the most visually imaginative, densely layered, and effortlessly rewarding anime on the market, bursting with his uniquely sloppy animation style and a visceral understanding of what makes people tick in their best and worst moments alike. That said, he’s also responsible for Japan Sinks, which I’ve admittedly softened on a bit over the past year but was still a catastrophic misfire on pretty much every front. So he’s clearly not an unimpeachable talent. He can make mistakes and put out bad results, same as everyone. So it’s a damn good thing I was already familiar with his work before checking out Mind Game, his debut film from all the way back in 2004. Because if this had been my introduction to Yuasa, I would have been tempted to steer clear of everything else he’s ever done.

Mind Game is a hard movie to summarize, because it’s one of those surreal art-house affairs where imagery and Big Ideas take precedence over basic coherency. It jumps between at least three different genres and tones, haphazardly pulling all sorts of disconnected tropes out of its ass and discarding them the moment it’s finished with them. Things start off like a romantic drama; wimpy college kid Kishi reconnects with his childhood crush Myon who’s getting married to a hot stud, and we spend like ten minutes just watching them talk and hash out their life stories in the bar run by Myon’s older sister. Then a couple Yakuza toughies break down the door for some reason I’m still not entirely sure of; I think Myon’s father cheated them out of world cup tickets or something? Anyway, one of the yaks tries to rape Myon but gets distracted and kills Kishi instead, at which point Kishi goes to the afterlife meets God- yes, actually God- represented by a series of rapidly changing characters from people to fish. God tells him his time is up, but Kishi doesn’t want to die such a pathetic death, so he literally escapes the afterlife and comes back to life right before he dies, at which point he steals the attacker’s gun with his buttcheeks and uses it to kill him instead, resolving to live a full, passionate life from now on. And that’s the last we see of God for the entire movie; we never visit him or the afterlife ever again, and it’s barely even brought up.

Anyway, after... that happens, Kishi pulls Myon and her sister into the yakuzas’ car and makes a getaway, at which point Mind Game becomes a high-octane Fast and Furious car chase with the yakuza’s partners trying to run them off the road. All the laws of physics and reality are broken as they make their mad escape, dodging other cars and enemies firing guns, until they’re run off a bridge and plunge toward the dark water below... only to be swallowed by a gigantic whale that shows up out of nowhere, drowning the yazuka in the process who also never show up and are barely mentioned ever again.

This is just the first forty minutes of the movie.

Mercifully, once our cast of characters actually finds themselves in the whale’s stomach, we stay in that location for the entire rest of the film. Kishi, Myon, and her sister meet a crazy old man who was also swallowed by the whale long ago and has build a little wooden village for himself to live in. From here on, Mind Game essentially becomes a trippy slice-of-life scenario following the characters living in the whale’s belly, the stress it puts on their emotional state, and how they all change and grow as a result of it, punctuated with sequences of LCD-induced lunacy as the characters let their emotions run hog-wild and we lose all sense of grounding in anything even resembling reality. Sadly, the jarring randomness of the film doesn’t vanish now that we’re stuck in a single location; every scene feels disconnected from the one that came before, every flight of fancy feels like a complete non-sequitor, and there’s basically nothing in the way of plot or character arcs until it’s suddenly revealed that the whale is dying and everyone decides they’d better try escaping despite its seeming impossibility. And then everything climaxes with, I shit you not, at least five straight minutes of the characters wordlessly running up a cascading waterfall as they try to escape the whale, with no variation and basically nothing going on but them running on vertical water and gradually losing their clothes in the process.

I don’t normally describe the entire plot of a movie or show in my reviews, but I need to give you the sense of how fucking nonsensical Mind Game is to watch. The closest thing it gets to a point is in some abstract notion of living your life to its fullest, which I guess is what all this insanity is supposed to represent, but it’s all so thoughtlessly thrown together that it comes off as little more than white noise. There are so many weird, bizarre, utterly unique images throughout this movie, and I remember basically none of them. I couldn’t begin to tell you why anything in this movie is the way it is. Why does it sometimes shift art styles so the characters are portrayed as photos of real-life people animated like stop motion? Why have the afterlife section at all if it’s never gonna come up again? Why is there a montage of moments in our characters’ pasts at the beginning and end of the movie? Is the crazy old man supposed to be Kishi’s father? Why does Myon have sex with Kishi after he tells her a story of tiny space explorers who live on her cells like they’re planets until she literally shits them out? Yes, go back, read that sentence again, that is an actual thing that happens in this movie. Also, we randomly get flashes of backstory for Myon right in the buildup to the big escape and she tells her that she’s sorry for always dumping the burden on her, which feels like it’s supposed to be the climax to a character arc, but I’m honestly not sure if they had a single conversation prior to that point, save for a brief moment in the bath that’s interrupted by Kishi and the old man perving on them, because of course it fucking is. Oh, and you better believe that Myon’s huge tits are a popular subject of both the characters’ conversations and the camera’s lens, even shortly after she’s almost raped. Because it’s deeeeeep, man, you just don’t get it, maaaaaaan!

Yeah, no, this movie sucks. It’s an incomprehensible clusterfuck of meaningless imagery mistaking confusing and obtuseness for profound insight and artistic brilliance. The only reason I’m not rating it lower is that it’s not offensive enough to really piss me off. It’s just baffling and annoying and a waste of time that no one should bother watching. Yuasa would go on to make actually good anime after this, with stories worth telling and visuals that supported them, so I won’t hold it against him. But even as a debut project, this is too stupid to enjoy, and I give it a score of:

3/10

Hopefully his future films will give me more to gush over, yeah? See you next time!

[maraschinocheri]

A novel no one needed on the Les Mis filmed concert: 1,800+ words of stuff and nonsense.

The first thing that jumps into my head is that I am so glad the concert run is over, and the second is that it’s a very strange feeling when the strongest vocal performances on stage seemed to belong to Enjolras, Eponine, and … Cosette. But let’s get the rest of it all over with first.

• Alfie Boe’s acting has improved since he last played Valjean, thankfully, but good lord, he really needs to not get involved in any even moderately extended run of anything, because he clearly cannot hack it physically or vocally. And while it may seem churlish to say so, I am so bored of his Valjean. Warble warble warble, seeming so out of place with everyone else’s voices, and just. Enough. He looked lovely, of course, and I’m sure his fans truly enjoyed this repeat of him in the role, when … he was actually there, but he sounded absolutely exhausted. I’m afraid I spent a lot of his performance wishing I were watching JOJ on film instead.

• Michael Ball’s mention during the encore that this was his last performance as Javert seems a fair thing; he is not—and never was— meant for this role on any level (I maintain he has all the threatening menace of Snidely Whiplash), though Stars was not bad, especially because he left himself, you know, sing and not bark or growl or spend so much damn time and energy trying to not be *~MICHAEL BALL~*. The gritted teeth “m’sieur! mayor!” was just a boring choice, the Confrontation was a muddy mess, the Intervention played too much for comic effect (though MASSIVE POINTS for bringing back the original why the hell did he run? instead of why on earth did he run?), the barricade scenes had too little punch, the Sewers had so much potential that disappeared, but … 

But. While Ball’s is not my preferred style of Javert and never could be, I have to take a deep breath and blinkingly applaud his wild leaping commitment to batshittery in the Suicide. I mean, if you’re going for full on batshit at that point, you have to really sell it, and with any luck make it a different range of batshit than previous batshit Javerts, and he did. My dad, the sole member of my family not much prone to show commentary, said “That was excellent.” firmly after the Suicide, and a part of me grudgingly agreed. But please, never again, Michael. Honestly I think he’s relieved it’s done.

(Also honestly, the most amusing moment of the entire concert experience for me was my mother’s interval exclamation that she had “a new boyfriend!” Assuming she meant Bwadders, I laughed and asked oh really, who? And she said … Javert. After I recovered myself, I reminded her that Javert was Michael. Ball., who has been at one stage or another my—and everyone else’s—mother’s boyfriend since 1985. She had entirely forgotten he was playing Javert in the concert and was bizarrely fooled by wig and costume, but assured me that even now, she “could swim in his dimples.” My mother, everyone.)

• Shan Ako was a marvelous Eponine, and I loved her On My Own. She’ll be great fun to watch in the actual production, I think, and I so appreciated a tough cookie Eponine with old school vocal power but newer school technique and touch and oh my god subtlety without losing anything in characterization, even given the limitations of a concert performance. Houchen’s Marius wouldn’t have deserved her, anyway.

• Speaking of Houchen. You know, I was fond of Rob while he was in his actual run as Marius, but he’s absolutely checked out of it mentally and emotionally, and it shows. He still has a lovely voice that really works as Marius sometimes, but there’s nothing … there underneath the pretty sheen, and after the few years’ distance since his proper run, I’ve seen enough Marii who enjoyed the role and found substance in it that the lack of depth in Rob’s take was disappointing. However, I acknowledge that some of Marius’ actual-show chances of showing range don’t happen in the concert version, and perhaps if they’d been included my opinion would change. He knows he’s aged out the role now, however, and I highly doubt he’d ever want to do it again even if invited to do so. But who knows.

• I walked into the concert film with no opinion of Lily Kerhoas’ Cosette other than knowing she could sing it beautifully, but I was actually impressed—and sort of want to sit nearly every principal Cosette of the last, oh, decade in front of her performance and say, see you’re allowed to act; it can actually work—and I look forward to her work in the proper show as well, especially if they get her some costumes that actually fit and don’t look made of tissue.

• God, I hate Matt Lucas. The end.

• Katy Secombe has added some different touches to her Madame T, some good, and some—obviously Lucas-influenced—bad. It’s unfortunate that some of the Thenardier ~comedy absolutely cannot work in a concert setting—the wedding was awful—but she made a decent hash of a bad deal.

• Which brings me to Bwadders. Oh, Bradley. He’s just so very, very good at Enjolras, and always has been. This concert!jolras, however, had one very different vibe from his run’s take on the role, which was … a hopefulness, maybe? A joy and breathless hope running beneath the passion passion PASSION that’s always been there, and it was beautiful to watch in his eyes and mannerisms. The concert contained Bradley somewhat, in that his strong physicality wasn’t allowed to sort of fill the room (and barricade) as it had at the Queens, and I missed that. Also—and there is no getting around this, sadly, for me—that manbun still ain’t it. (Gingerfather—whose fave character in the show is Enjolras—just sighed heavily and said that there should’ve just been one of the Ponytails of Yore instead, and you know, he’s not wrong.) Bradley also nailed two of the three Big Notes, but his until the earth is free was done differently from how he approached it during his real run, and not for the better (the Ghost of THAXTON giveth, and it taketh away). And yet … it didn’t matter. It truly didn’t. He was the best of the principals, and at least for me would probably have been even if he’d bollocked the other two Big Notes as well. Anyway, Bwadders. A thrill to watch, and alive with energy so much of the show otherwise lacked.

• You will note no mention yet of Fletcher. I refer to the point above re: Matt Lucas.

• The Amis, as one. I am aware that many, many people adore Raymond Walsh’s Grantaire, and I entirely understand why. He was fine. Craig Mather’s Combeferre and Niall Sheehy’s Courfeyrac both allowed both actors to show off some real oomph in their voices, though I’m still much too rattled by a Courfeyrac wearing Joly’s clothes. I love Vinny Coyle because he’s just so obviously, thrillingly in love with the show, but he’s also a fabulous Feuilly, and I merrily handwave the not-so-great we’ll be therrrre because a) it’s a horrendous note few people can carry well, and b) I’ve seen and heard him do it brilliantly so many other times when he was covering Feuilly as a swing. And it was delicious to see Will Jennings as a background onstage SwingAmi. Everyone else was just sort of … there, though all very pretty. It was extremely clear who had been in casts properly educated and invested in the show, but that’s a record I’ve played enough.

• I will never not love seeing Sarah Lark, Jo Loxton, and Tamsin Dowsett. I also deeply appreciate seeing Oli Brenin doing everything, everywhere, all the time.

• It is never not wonderful seeing Earl Carpenter bishoping, but my god EARL WHAT EVEN with that Bamatabois. What even. There was active squeaky recoiling happening in my row.

• Gavroche was excellent and adorable and GINGER. Full marks.

• And so to the encores. The only point I could see to the coat handover from Michael to Bradley was to give Michael a Moment along the lines of the Valjeanfest, as it’s not like the role of Javert is new to Bradley. However, I was fascinated by the strangeness of the harmonized Stars, and I think I need to watch and listen to it again about a thousand times to really confirm my proper opinion. I know Bradley doesn’t sing Stars that high for real—and certainly doesn’t need to—and what they did here doesn’t really … show his approach to the role, but it was interesting, and I give them credit for the try. (I did attempt to imagine others—let’s be real, I was imagining THAXTON—even being asked to make a go of this, and my imagined Thaxtonic response will make for excellent nightmare fuel.)

• Then, then, then. All Valjeans all the time, including some Potato in a tour costume that still has me hissing at its wrongness. Anyway! Leaving aside Alfie—whose section just really sounded like jesus christ I cannot believe I have to do this again; I just want to lie down for a thousand years and block Cameron’s number from any further contact with me put to music—I found the whole thing much more palatable than the 25th anniversary Valjeanfest, perhaps mostly because of my fave part of the whole concert—the whole two lines JOJ and Killian shared—but also because the four Valjeans not actively praying for their own deaths all seemed to have physical, emotional, and vocal respect for the role, the show, the audience, and each other. It was a strange joy to watch.

Which, truly, this concert was as well, in enough places to ensure that I will buy the inevitable DVD. On some occasions I may even start its playback before Look Down (Paris). Maybe.

(One more small thought, though, on this concert and why I am glad it’s over: I know the run sparked a lot of joy for a lot of people, but if I saw one more bitchy tweet from the cast members I might have screamed. Are some audience members dickheads? Absolutely. Then enforce the fucking rules. Train and allow your FOH to go after those people (and force the management to back the FOH staff up!), remove them, throw one of the old pest catcher boxes from under the Queens seats at them, whatever. But shut up. I don’t even follow any of the whingers I saw! Twitter just enjoyed throwing their tweets into my feed like a toddler’s wall-splattering food. #blessed)

Anyway. That’s that done. The show’s world turns, though obviously it no longer revolves.

[deejadabbles]

Not Quite Unrequited Yami x Reader Chapter 6

Six: Love Requited

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven

Summary: Yami would do whatever it took to keep his friendship with you intact, even if it meant putting on a smile and pushing his love for you aside. You knew Yugi loved Anzu, but getting over your feelings for him was hard, especially when time made feelings for another best friend arise.

AU where Duel Monsters is just a (vastly popular) card game and Yami and Yugi are twins. This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A.N: If you don't think Yami would wear eyeliner in a modern AU then yOU ARE- totally entitled to your opinion but I will have to respectfully disagree. You'll see why I mentioned guyliner at all once you read this chapter, enjoy~

Change was hard. Graduation had come and gone for you and your close-knit friends, now everyone was in a state of transition as you all started new chapters of life. You wouldn’t deny you felt a little saddened by it all. Though all of you promised to stay in touch, change was hard. Anzu would be leaving for New York soon and Jonouchi was going to be entering any and every Duel Monsters tournament he could in order to build up his reputation as fast as possible. Many of you were staying in the city, but work, dreams, relationships could all eat up so much of one’s life, it worried you, just a little. So you vowed to grab and hold every opportunity you had with your friends before that shift in life truly started to take effect.

You were thankful for today for example. Yami and Yugi’s birthday was just around the corner and the older brother had asked you out for the day so you two could shop around for gifts. Yami had bought his brother’s present a while ago, but discovered that Jonouchi had gotten him the same thing! Yami being Yami, he had offered to let Jou give him the present and he would find something else for Yugi. So here you two were, spending the day walking from store to store, noting good ideas for Yami to choose from.

“I swear I’m going to ask how much it is.”

“It’s not like I could afford him even if he was for sale.”

You let out a little snort at his choice of wording before countering “We could always hoist it over our shoulders and carry it out when the manager’s back is turned.”

He knew you were joking, but he still shifted his gaze from the life-sized statue of the Dark Magician to give you an almost scolding look. One of the many stores that sold Duel Monsters cards and supplies had a very impressive display piece and you had joked that Yugi would love to have such a unique collectible of his favorite duel monster. Yami agreed, but also knew it was not within his means to acquire.

“How about I find him a statue I could at least carry by myself instead” Yami settled with a wry smile.

He walked over to the shelves that held some collectibles of interest, you following close behind. “I think I saw an ad for this cool looking diorama of Dark Magician and Dark Magician Girl in battle poses. Maybe we could hunt down something like that?”

“That would be a good one. I’m also still considering that elite duelist kit we saw, if I decide to stick with something DM themed.”

As you looked on the shelves for anything noteworthy, your phone began to ring. When you answered a now somewhat familiar voice answered with a cheerful “Your commissions are ready for pick up!”

You threw a cautious look over at Yami, who was busy reading the back of a boxed figurine. You answered only after taking a step away from him to diminish his chance of overhearing the man on the phone. “That’s great! I can’t wait to see them.”

“Well if you’re free any time today, I highly recommend you come pick them up. I’ll be here at my studio all day so you can just swing by whenever.”

That caused you to bite your lip, the artist’s apartment was only a few blocks away from where you were shopping now. And it would be nice to show Yami the piece you had commissioned for Yugi right away, but there was a problem…

“Well, I’m actually with one of the two birthday boys I told you about, but I’d really like to come pick them up now. Do you have anything that could hide the smaller piece from view? Not the canvas gift, the other one.”

“Oh yeah, I got something, got some card boxes I can put ‘the other set’ in so he won’t see them. But you should still have him wait outside when you come to get them, that way you can look both pieces over before you take off.”

“Okay, that’ll work. I’ll be over shortly, thanks again!” after hanging up the phone you saw that Yami was looking over at you with curiosity. “The artist is finally done with Yugi’s present!” you informed.

“That’s great, I’d love to see it before you take it home and wrap it,” he said, genuine interest on his face.

“I want you to see it too. He lives right down the street so I thought we could swing by now, buuuut, I’m gonna have to ask you wait outside at first,” when he narrowed his eyes in a silent question, you sighed, not having a way around it. “See, I also got the artist to work on your present, and of course I don’t want you to see it when he shows it to me. So just wait outside for a minute, I’ll come out with your present all covered and hidden, then I can show you what I got Yugi!”

He thought on that for just a moment, an almost child-like curiosity hinting in his eyes at the mention of his present. Then he nodded “Of course I’ll wait outside, we wouldn’t want the surprise to be ruined after all,” he ended the assurance with a little wink and you had to ignore the way your heart seemed to jump in answer.

After a thorough look around the shop and finding nothing that struck Yami as worthy, the two of you headed out and down the street with you leading the way. As he had promised Yami waited outside when you arrived, leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs acting as a front entrance. There were only three apartments, the building being one of the units resting atop a ground level storefront. When you knocked on the door marked 3 a very cheerful young man answered.

“Come in come in! I can’t wait to see how you like them, I absolutely loved this project!”

You had found this artist via his blog online and had been impressed with his Duel Monsters inspired pieces, then when you saw that he was always eager for commissions an idea had struck. You spent a few afternoons here, hashing out the details of what you wanted and were very confident they were going to be amazing.

He walked over to his drawing desk and picked up a canvas piece, turning it towards you with pride “Present number one!”

This one was for Yugi. A collage of sorts featuring his favorite characters from the game, Kuriboh, Celtic Guardian and Dark Magician being among them. “It looks great! I love that starry background you added.”

You took it in your hands to look it over closer, more than happy with the work. He reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out five cards, handing them over to you after you had gotten your fill of the canvas piece. Yami’s present did not fail to impress either.

“Oh wow, they’re perfect! You captured everyone’s likeness so well…” You flipped through all five pages, daring to imagine how Yami would react when you gave these to him.

After heaping on a few more praises to the artist and paying him the last half of his fee you took your leave, Yami’s present sitting snugly in a white card box. As you walked down the stairs to the ground level the young man in question came into few, and you had to curse your chest for the little flutter it gave at the sight of him. He just looked so handsome, leaning against the brick building, hands in pockets as he looked up at the sky, deep in thought. Gosh, you were hopeless.

He must have heard your footfalls because he turned towards you, a curious smile on his lips. “Everything go okay?”

“Yup!” once you were standing beside him you pulled the canvas painting out of the bag with gentle care “Here it is!”

As he looked it over his expression changed just slightly, taking on an almost fond gaze. “He’s going to love it, your idea was perfect.”

“I hope so,” you muttered, the statement only half in thought to Yugi, the other half hoping Yami loved his present as well.

Stowing away the present back in the safe confines of the bag, you insisted on continuing your hunt for Yami’s gift to his brother. There were only two stores left on the mental list you two had thought up earlier, so you two headed out. Unfortunately…

“Oh no, it’s starting to rain!” you warned, feeling a few sprinkles against your skin.

“Will your painting be okay?” Yami asked with concern.

“It should be as long as we aren’t caught in the rain for too long.” As if taking your words as a challenge the rain dialed up from a one to a five, coming down in a full-on shower now.

You gave an actual gasp as you felt Yami wrap his fingers around your hand and start running for cover. You didn’t have to be dragged, following behind and actually thanking the rain for cooling off the heat his touch was causing on your skin. It was a full two minutes before you found cover that wasn’t already crowded by people. That haven came in the form of a narrow awning at the entrance to an empty store on a side street. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you caught your breath, the dash through the rain exhilarating you oddly enough. The laugh died down as you checked the contents of your bag, relieved to find everything was safe.

As you shoved the dry box containing Yami’s gift back to the depths of the sack you felt someone looking over your shoulder “Hey, no peeking!” you warned, turning to face Yami “Trying to sneak a look at your present hm?”

“I was not,” he defended “I was only making sure everything was alright.”

You might have countered with a lighthearted teasing remark, but you were too focused on trying to contain your laughter at the sight you had turned towards. The rain had ruined Yami’s eyeliner. It was running down his cheeks in a fashion suitable for an alt rock music video about heartbreak and misery.

“What?” he questioned, seeing you bite your lip while smiling.

“Your-” a huff of laughter “the rain made your eyeliner run,” you couldn’t help the giggling that marred the sentence. Well, at least it wasn’t a full-on guffaw.

He reached a hand up to his face, blushing just a tad as he realized you were right. “Damn.”

Allowing yourself one more giggle you stepped closer to him, reaching up to his other cheek and rubbing the worst of it away with gentle strokes of your thumb. “You should borrow Anzu’s waterproof stuff,” you commented with a hum as you focused on his pink cheeks.

Rather abruptly you realized what you were doing, and felt a self-conscious wave of nerves rising. You shifted your eyes to his, looking for any sign of discomfort at your close proximity. On the contrary, you saw him gazing at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression…lost? No, contemplating, like a focused sort of daydreaming. The setting was intimate, your little awning on the less traveled street making a virtual bubble of isolation and privacy. You swallowed a lump in your throat, heart picking up pace the longer you looked into his amazing eyes. Then, he started to lean in. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but luck was not with him today.

The bubble was popped as a car let out a loud honk, driving by and running its tires through a puddle collecting at the sidewalk’s edge. The wave kicked up from the car came down on Yami’s back, causing both of you to jump.

Understandably, Yami was not happy. He let out a curse and glared at the retreating car, as if his narrowed eyes would make the tires on it explode. He was soaking wet, his hair even more a mess than before, eyeliner now faded streaks down to his neck and his clothes so drenched it looked almost painful. You scolded yourself for thinking anything even remotely funny, but you couldn’t help but to compare him to a cat who had been tossed in a bath.

Shaking your head you closed the distance between the both of you again and placed a hand on his soaked back. The touch seemed to quell his anger in a moment, and he looked over at you.

“Come on, we should get you home and into some dry clothes. We can finish our shopping tomorrow.”

“I call dibs on a corner piece!”

“No way, the corner piece is mine!”

“Hey, dummy, you do realize there’s more than one right?”

“Yeah, but calling dibs on the one you want will make it taste better.”

“Why you!”

The moment Anzu had brought out the birthday cake, Jonouchi and Honda had started in on their banter. Leaving you and Yugi exchanging exasperated eye rolls, Yami chuckling as he shook his head and Anzu looking quite miffed.

“You two do realize whose birthday it is, right?” she said in a sigh “Yugi and Yami get first call on any piece they want, so you two can settle down.”

She set the cake down on the table and it did look quite amazing. It was just the six of you tonight, the boys having celebrated their birthday with their family the day before so “you kids” (Grandpa’s words, not theirs) could have this party to yourselves. Though grandpa Motou had warned you all to save a piece of cake for him.

After Anzu cut it into perfect square portions she handed the spatula over to the boys and told them to pick their favorites first. Yugi, of course, went for a corner piece with the most icing whereas Yami got the centermost slice. As they chose, Jou and Honda continued to argue over who would get what piece while Anzu scolded them for being so childish.

You gave the smallest start when a plate was slid over to you in the midst of the chaos. On the plate was the piece you would have most definitely picked yourself and when you looked over, Yami gave you a conspiratorial wink. Taking the liberty of sneaking you ‘the best’ slice, what a thoughtful man.

Letting out the smallest of chuckles you mouthed a thank you and started in on the portion of dessert. His eyes lingered on you, that special smile lifting his lips. You found your laughter increasing as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“What?” you whispered between giggles.

He answered by averting his eyes, smile still present on his face. “Nothing.”

After cake came gifts, everyone being quite proud to present theirs to the boys. It was a good haul, each one of them being picked out with thought and care, though you expected no less from this group of friends. Because of the way everyone was sitting around the table you ended up giving your presents last. After handing the wrapped packages over you felt just a little concerned over Yami’s thoughts seeing as how the actual size comparison was staggeringly different. Still, Yami insisted on Yugi going first since he had opened Honda’s presents first a moment ago and Yugi obliged.

“Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up the moment they met the canvas “It’s amazing, did you have this made just for me?”

“Yup, I talked with the artist for a long time to get it just right, fitting all your favorites on it.”

“It’s perfect! It’ll look great in my room- then my first apartment- thank you!”  

He accentuated his words by leaning in and pulling you into a hug. You felt a swell of pride at his reaction, happy that he loved it so much. Then, apparently eager to see what you had in store for his brother, Yugi quickly insisted that Yami open his present. Your heart sped up a little as he untied the bow, tendrils of worry and doubt creeping up from the pit of your stomach.

He lifted the lid on the box and his eyes went wide as they got their first look at the cards carefully laid out inside. He picked up the one in the middle, the one of Yugi sporting purple magician robes, still wide-eyed as he examined it. Taking advantage of his stunned silence (whether it was bad or good) you began your explanation behind the set.

“Five one-of-a-kind monster cards, they aren’t official cards of course, but a set for you to keep on you when you enter tournaments. We’ve always cheered you on, but sometimes we won’t be able to be there for you in person now. This is a way for you to remember that- even if we can’t be there physically, we’re still with you.”

Everyone was quite curious and moved in closer as Yami examined the other four. Anzu as the Magician of Faith. Jonouchi as the Flame Swordsman and so on. All five of Yami’s closest supporters represented as their favorite monster cards. You had been seriously considering commissioning your own copy of the card featuring you, looking quite good dressed as your favorite.

“Wow” Anzu gasped, looking over Yami’s shoulder while Yugi occupied the other “when you told me your idea I knew it was a good one, but these are even cooler than I imagined they’d be!”

Finally, Yami spoke, starting off with a whisper of your name, “I don’t know what to say.”

His eyes locked with yours, and the look in them eased any worry you had at his reaction. A laugh, and you found yourself opening your arms in an easy gesture “You could follow Yugi’s lead and just give me a hug.”

He complied in an instant, pulling you into his arms, a gentle embrace but one full of affection. “They’re amazing, thank you.”

He ignored Honda and Jonouchi complaining that they still hadn’t gotten a good look at these special cards as he held you… a little longer than just a thankful friend would perhaps? You instantly scolded yourself for getting your hopes up, though you did allow yourself to get lost in the perfect embrace while it lasted. It ended too quickly of course, but his eyes lingered on yours as he pulled back, before he finally let you go and turned to properly show the boys your gift.

You hoped that a blush wasn’t too noticeable on your cheeks now. Though, you thought it must have been, because you felt eyes on you and when you looked up you found Yugi giving you a very knowing look.

The birthday party went on, everyone still going strong when you all decided to go get some burgers since the filling cake had worn off. There was only one other table occupied at the time and they were on the other side of the joint, which of course lead to all of you being quite boisterous, though the wait staff didn’t seem to mind.

You hoped Yami couldn’t feel your heart speed up when he slid in next to you in the booth…And when he had slung his arm over the back of the seat, practically resting it on your shoulders. He was very close, seeing as how three of you had to squeeze into the space and though your heart was doing the occasional somersault, you liked the closeness.

In fact, within all the laughter and conversation you kept feeling like you would catch Yami sliding his eyes away from you just as you looked even the slightest bit in his direction. Was he watching you from the corner of his eyes? For the second time that night you had to tell yourself not to get your hopes up. Yami wasn’t interesting in dating, you were sure of it, like many he probably just wasn’t ready for a relationship, and that was fine. It had to be. It had to be okay because what kind of friend would you be if you selfishly tried to project your own wants and desires onto him? It had to be okay, even if it made your throat constrict as you swallowed your emotions.

Eventually, the night had to come to an end when the waiter said they were closing up. You all briefly thought about going somewhere else together, but Yugi and Anzu expressed wanting to take a walk alone together before Yugi took Anzu home. Jonouchi and Honda got the hint, though they did not miss the chance to send teasing comments the couple’s way before heading home themselves.

As you and Yami bid Yugi and Anzu goodnight, you finally took notice to the fact that you were missing something. “Oh man, I think I left my bag at your house.”

“Then let’s go back and get it,” Yami replied, his tone very matter of fact even as he said, “then I can walk you home from there.”

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, I’m sure you’re probably wanting to go home and relax for the rest of the night.”

He shook his head “It’s no trouble, besides, I like the idea of spending some more time with you before we say goodnight.”

There it was again, those simple gestures paired with a smile that you were ever so slightly suspecting were specially made just for you. He smiled, of course he did, but something felt unique- special when they were aimed at you. Or at least that’s what your heart made it out to be.

As you two walked back to his house there was a comfortable silence for a while, before Yami broke it as he pulled your cards from his belt. “Thank you again for these. They were an amazingly thoughtful gift.”

You couldn’t help but take notice of the fact that the card bearing your resemblance was on top of the stack. “Of course. I know I’m going to try my best to be at all of your tournaments, like Yugi will try, but just in case we can’t make it, you’ll have those with you to remind you that we’re always in your corner” you gave a thoughtful hum “I supposed I should have gotten you some kind of slip or case so you can carry them around separate from your regular deck; them not being legal cards and all.”

“I’ll find something to keep them safe” he assured, looking down at the set, with yours still the one in view.

The rest of the way to the game shop a conversation with Yugi and Anzu from months ago was floating to the surface of your mind. ‘I mean, he’s not the type to be interested in or even flirt with just anyone, but I don’t know, with someone special I think he’d want to start dating.’ ‘Someone loyal and kind, maybe even someone he’s already friends with.’  ‘Sounds like you’re describing a very specific someone right here.’ ‘You’re amazing, you two could make a great couple!’

Was Yugi right? Could Yami actually have feelings for someone like you? Or was it just his imagination, hoping to get his brother and best friend together? After the devastation of your last heartache, you were so damn reluctant to take a gamble with your love. Besides, what would Yami think, you falling for him after having love for Yugi? He’d probably be paranoid that you only wanted him because he was Yugi’s brother. God knows you yourself had been horribly concern about that as soon as you realized you were in love with Yami. No, you knew your heart and after a long time of examining your feelings, you were completely confident that you loved him for him, nothing less. But would he believe that?

Finally, you arrived at the game shop and once inside it actually took you a few minutes to locate your bag. After double checking to make sure you actually had everything you turned to ask Yami if he was ready, but found he wasn’t there.

“Yami?” you called out, a bit concerned.

“Just a moment,” came his reply echoing from his room.

Assuming he was just getting something last minute, you wandered towards the door leading downstairs as you waited. Eventually he emerged from his room, one of his thinner jackets slung over his arm.

“It’s getting colder outside and you already looked a bit cold on the way here, I just wanted to make sure you had something to cover up with.”

He took the jacket and draped it over your shoulders, giving it a few gentle tugs to fit over you perfectly. Such a sweet, simple thought on his part. It smelled like him, the soft material giving you a reminder of how it felt to hug him, the few rare times it had happened.  Always such sweet, simple things. Offering to walk you home, giving you your preferred slice of cake, baking treats with you in mind, lending an ear whenever you needed advice. He cared so much, beneath the guarded nature he was so kind and giving. He was amazing.

And you couldn’t have him.

You hated the sudden rush of bitter emotions climbing up your throat, but this was all too much at once. God, you might even start crying over the lending of a jacket of all things! Not wanting him to see you, you hung your head. Then to your simultaneous elation and devastation, you felt his hands on your arms as he called your name in questioning concern.

“Is something wrong?”

His tone was quiet while leaning in closer to you, as if wanting to make a safe space for you within his arms. It was all too much. You found yourself turning on your heel with the intention of running down the stairs, hoping that your unexpected action would shock Yami into not following after you.

You were wrong, you didn’t even make it to the first step before he grabbed your wrist and called out to you in a something just short of a yell.

“Wait, just tell me what’s wrong- please!”

“I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself” the flow of words that had built up inside your heart began to pour out before you knew it. Your voice grew more frustrated and erratic with every word and you had pulled your wrist from his grasp if only to take a few steps away from his tempting embrace. “Twice now I’ve put my heart in losing situations- I fall in love with the most amazing men, my best friends who I would do anything for- who makes me feel happy and wanted and loved and safe! I fall for an amazing man- who I can’t have!”

You actually turned around then, feeling the urge to face him. You had come this far, might as well take that final leap. Complete shock was written on his face as he looked at you, so you went on, you took that leap and put the final nail in.

“I love you, Yami. I love you so so much, I have for months. I think I needed to get over my crush on Yugi to realize it, but I do. And I know, I know you won’t want me, that you’re probably not ready for anything like that and I’ll make myself be okay with that, because you-”

The scattered words died in your throat. Yami closed the steps between you in an instant, clasped your face in his hands, and crushed his lips against yours. You were frozen, the cogs of your mind stalling in the midst of his action. Then in a snap, you were aware of everything, of him. A kiss that poured every unspoken affection and every ignored desire into you. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as his lips moved over yours with such passion you had to grasp the front of his shirt to keep standing.

Then you found your strength again, and you were wrapping your arms around him, clasping the back of his neck as you tried to return the passion inch for inch, give as good as he gave. Needing air, he opened his mouth for a moment and let out a shaky breath before pulling you in again. This time he wrapped an arm around you and started running his hand up and down your back, slow and sensual. You didn’t bother resisting the small moan that sounded in your throat and he responded with something akin to a growl, sending a pleasant shiver through you.

Too soon, too damn soon he pulled back. Not away, thankfully, just enough to break the kiss and look into your eyes, still holding you tight in his embrace. Yami remained silent for a bit, brushing some hair from your face as his half-lidded gaze raked over your features, as though he had all the time in the world to simply look at you.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way.”

Your breath hitched at his statement and a laugh fell from your lips “I…I didn’t want to get my hopes up thinking you did.”

His eyes were so intense, alight with passion and want and…relief. Profound relief that his love was reciprocated. You were certain the sentiment was reflected in your own eyes, both of you elated at the thought that you no longer had to be torn apart by unrequited love.

Wanting to feel him, to hold him, you moved your hands to cup his face. His eyes closed at the sensation of your thumb running over his skin and he leaned into your touch, as if he wanted to drown in the feeling of your hands on him.

“I love you,” he whispered, eyes still closed as he got lost in your touch “I have for…for a long time. When you confessed your feelings about Yugi to me I tried my best to simply be a good friend and be there for you, but I couldn’t bury how I felt.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break your heart, but I promise, Yami, I love you too. I don’t even know how to tell you how much.”

He opened his eyes for the briefest of moments before leaning in and capturing your lips again. The action conveyed his message: tell me like this, kiss me and never stop, touch me and never let go. His first kiss had its intent; hastily conveying every ounce of his pent up need for you. This time the intent was all slow and steady passion, one hand running soothing circles along your back as the other cupped just below your ear.

You were all too aware of him backing up until you were pressed against a wall, his body gently leaning against yours. Every move only deepened the embrace, every stroking thumb, every press of lips. Bliss was kissing someone you loved more than anything, this was bliss. Neither of you cared how long you stayed like that, all that mattered was that you were finally in each other’s arms, two loves finally requited.

A.N.  Between the getting drenched scene here and Yami barely avoiding sneezing on you in the last chapter I should just call this ‘Yami: a series of embarrassing cockblocks’ lol. But hey at least he got you in the end, right? Anyway I hope the big confession scene was good enough and worth the build-up…? Kinda nervous about that part honestly. Anyway, I got one more chapter of this series for you guys, can’t have all that build up and not show the actual relationship, right? I'm also writing a bonus chapter that's....*ahem*, very sensual if you catch my meaning. So, if you are interested in/comfortable with NSFW stuff keep an eye out for that posting as well. As always thanks for reading!