#and with those cues being challenged it feels a bit like putting up a tent without tent pegs

[falderaletcetera]

simultaneously delighted that platonic love and relationships are being recognised in media and anxious that there are fewer obvious cues to read to indicate romance or the lack of such

[shoichee]

part 4: hcs dedicated to reactions: seirin (their precious lil manager going out with that scissor-wielding emperor bastard!?) and rakuzan (their captain was in love with that girl who cussed at him near the vending machine?!? ITS SO FUNNY) ++ angst where akashi gets jealous of readers teammates (IZUKI kuroko kagami furi... but mostly izuki bc point guards with eye powers) because he still feels bad about what happened and thinks he doesnt deserve her -- teiko anon

OUR LEGENDARY TEIKO ANON HAS SPOKEN OF AN EPILOGUE, alright y’all the finale FINALE 🧘🏻‍♀️ OKAY, i don’t think I hammered too hard on the angst, but enjoy the fluff and subtle crack😌

OOH, looks like another anon wants a pt. 4! :0 Since it is primarily the Teiko anon’s request, I will be prioritizing the first request, but I will combine a few aspects of this request to make a fuller headcanon epilogue! Hope everyone enjoys this! part 1 here // part 2 here // part 3 here

Akashi x Reader

Part 4: Epilogue

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

in the aftermath of the Winter Cup, your relationship with Akashi has certainly gotten much better, and dare you say, more intimate and romantic; though you were still healing a bit from the emotional scars from Teiko, they seemed to be going away faster than you realized, especially when everyone gathers for Kuroko’s birthday party

you were with Seirin, helping with the decorations and setting up the plates before Kuroko comes in the evening, but what no one expected was for him to bring in the GoMs

YOU’RE SHOOK AND YOU’RE BASHFUL SEEING AKASHI IN HIS WINTER ATTIRE, you’re getting MAD butterflies, but no one seems to notice because everyone’s attention is on the GoMs and Kuroko

of course Akashi was scanning the room for you first, and you immediately look away from his affectionate stare because you were still not used to the old Akashi, let alone his sweeter side for only you

Izuki notices how quiet you got and nudged your ribs with his elbow before telling a stupid pun… the thing is, you were one of the few people who genuinely found his jokes funny LOL

Akashi widens his eyes, staring at you laughing so unabashedly, and he feels really, really bad that he never got that level of a reaction from you whenever you were with him even despite knowing you for longer

now as the party goes on, Akashi is seeing your dynamics with Seirin for the first time and he’s just really grateful that you found an amazing support group during your low times; he’s not particularly someone to get jealous, but he’s getting a BAD case of FOMO because he’s thinking of all the “what-if’s” and all the times he could’ve made you happy and stress-free

“Akashi-kun?”

“Ah… yes?” Akashi snaps out of his daze to see a mild smirk coming from Kuroko on his right side, and Kuroko was about to ask a question about who he was looking at before a shout of “Watch out!” and a ceramic plate came FLYING across the table to hit the Rakuzan captain square on his face

CUE SCREAMS OF PANIC AS MOMOI PUNCHES AOMINE ON THE HEAD AND RIKO JUMPS TO STRANGLE KAGAMI, AND YOU LITERALLY ZOOMED TO HIS SIDE TO CHECK ON ANY INJURIES

see, he could’ve easily dodged it, and he supposed that it’s his fault for not paying attention and dodging on time

thankfully, the plate didn’t break because Kuroko caught the plate before it reached the floor and placed it back on the table

Akashi still has a bruise or two on his face though… and ngl, everyone gulped when they saw him checking out the injuries with a handheld mirror, ready to get their ankles broken

you were so worried over his safety, he finds it really endearing… but he wants to elicit an expression other than looks of worry or tears or anger (flashback to when you cussed him out)

“Wait, but (y/n)...” Koganei said. “Since when were you so close to Akashi that you didn’t hesitate to touch his face?”

a few moments of silence for everyone to register his words

“EHHHH?????!!!!”

everyone is throwing QUESTION after QUESTION at the two of you, and Akashi just has a neutral face with his mouth parted while you were so embarrassed LMAO

Kise being a real best friend, tells them:

“Alright, alright, everyone! Let’s not forget about the birthday boy! Kurokocchi should be the center of our attention today!”

“Kise, that’s…”

“Anywho! Let’s light up the cake and find those party poppers…”

after the party though, when you all return to school, Seirin was READY to jump on you for interrogation, and you do reluctantly tell them that you and Akashi are a tentative couple

Riko: “SERIOUSLY? I mean… that’s kinda cute though…”

Hyuuga: “I mean… yeah, as long as you’re happy, it’s none of my business.”

Teppei: “I hope he treats you well, (y/n)-san.” and of course he gives you his signature head pats

Furihata, Tsuchida, Kawahara: “??????????????????? But why?”

Koganei: “Huh, guess that explains a lot.”

Kagami: “???????????? pt. 2 LMAO” and also “What do you even see in him?” in genuine curiosity

Izuki: “ I guess you two dove into this relationship without hesitation, eh? Get it, get it? Because doves are a symbol of lo—”

“Izuki, shut the fuck up.”

“It means that you love (Ai)kashi—” [Ai means love]

“IZUKI.”

Kuroko simply pretends that this is the first time he’s heard of you dating Akashi, and he gives you his heartfelt congratulations, and as long as Kuroko approves of it, you feel like you’re on the right track (he’s such a good judge of character!)

you and Akashi actually live VERY far apart, considering that your schools are equally just as far in distance, but that being said, for our rich boy Akashi, distance isn’t much of a problem when he can easily find ways to come visit any time

he can also pay for your transportation to visit Rakuzan if you ever felt like visiting him too (although, you insist to pay for your own things, but he’s not having it because he says it’s a treat for him to see you too)

whenever Akashi stops by the Seirin campus to visit, he’s just kind of awkward standing there like the prince that he is, waiting for the perfect opportunity to walk in, but every time, he’d ALWAYS notice how you’re so happy being with everyone here, especially with Izuki, and his guilt just comes back full force again

he wonders if this was right of him to date you when there’s so much people who can easily do a better job in getting you to smile and be completely yourself, especially since he’s been the source of your anguish for all these months (maybe even a year or two if he was counting the duration of your entire crush on him that you assumed to be unrequited)

“Seijurō!” your voice rang out, beckoning him to walk towards you and the group

all of the Seirin teammates are so wary of him, and are all hyper aware of his movements LOL, and Kuroko is just like “hi, you’re back” very casually

Kagami uses this as a chance to challenge a one-on-one on Akashi

Kagami gets destroyed in a few minutes flat

the whole time you’re just watching Akashi with heart eyes, unbeknownst to him while he was focused on Kagami

after the interrogation and Akashi passing the “first stage” of acceptance, you and him find time to have a cute date at a local shopping district to walk around and sightsee

Akashi finds it fun, he really did, but there’s a part of him that thinks you’d have more fun with people who know you better… a.k.a. Izuki, or legit any other Seirin member

he’s visibly distracted by his own thoughts, and you wave a hand to his face, asking if this was too boring for him

“No, no, of course I’m enjoying this with you,” he muses, putting a gentle kiss to your temple. “Shall we get moving?”

“Something’s bothering you isn’t it.”

“No,” he chuckles, giving a gentle smile, but you only frown at him… once again he sees that you weren’t smiling at him

“I’m serious Sei, I want to get to know the real you,” you softly chastise, pinching his cheek. “So I also want you to speak your mind around me.”

“Oh ho… I see that your boldness is still very present here,” he says in referring to your touch.

“Oh my god, can you drop it already? That’s so embarrassing—I cussed you out one time… hey don’t change the subject!”

“Hmm…” he hums for a bit before he comes clean. “I’m afraid that I might not be the right person to be worthy by your side after hurting you for so long.”

“... What makes you think that?” He hesitates, for the first time, not being so sure of himself and his emotions; he immediately thinks of Izuki and your good chemistry with him but dismisses the thought

“... I just do not think I’m capable enough to make you happy.”

“But you are. I’m very giddy to be with you right now.”

“Even happier than when you are with… your teammates?”

“Huh?”

“I apologize,” he hurriedly says. “They are your friends. I was out of line to question them.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Talk it out to me.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you both continue to walk and browse through the shops, and you carefully watch Akashi while he’s examining a few souvenirs on the display, patient for him to continue talking

“... the point guard.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Seirin’s point guard.”

“Izuki-kun? What about him?”

“While I’m aware that you only spend your time with him as a good friend… I want to spend just as much of a koala-ty time with you whenever we have the chance.”

he... says this with the straightest face, and you’re utterly confused before you saw some animal plushies on the store window, and the the koala plush, and then the cogs started turning in your head

“... Did you just say a pun?”

“Was it not sufficient?”

a few moments of silence pass and Akashi thinks he did something wrong because he wanted to make you smile (HELP poor captain), before you break into hysterics

between your fits of broken laughs and wheezes, you managed to ask if he was jealous of Izuki, to which he wholeheartedly kept denying until you wouldn’t stop being persistent

you reassure him over and over that he doesn’t need to act like Izuki to make you happy, but it was a pleasant surprise to see Akashi crack a “joke” nonetheless

he’s a bit new to the concept of dating and is still quite unsure of how to navigate this PLEASE GIVE HIM TIME

the date that day was a success (some of the Seirin teammates TOTALLY weren’t spying on you mid-date or anything…)

while Seirin is okay with you dating, visiting Rakuzan ALONE with the scary-ass captain and his “CROONIES” (hint: the rest of the team LMAOO) IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT STORY

RIKO AND HYUUGA are just like:

“What’s wrong with him coming here to visit you? Why do you gotta do the effort to visit him?”

“Uh… because I want to…”

“Yes, but who would you call to help over if something wrong happens? You’d be too far!”

“Uh, Akashi can help me if something happens.”

“With what, his scissors?” Kagami gives a deadpan look, and everyone turns to look at him in utter confusion LMAOOO like what does this redhead mean by SCISSORS???

Kuroko immediately jabs Kagami’s sides to silence him and smoothly changes the conversation before anyone asks any more questions about the “scissors” and potentially make them more reluctant to let you go

oh Kuroko, being the mediator and negotiator as always, trying to set some safety protocols for you to follow before everyone finally agrees to let you go see the infamous team alone

you know, Teppei is honestly just like, “Just go! Don’t worry about our (y/n) too much!”

Furihata is so concerned for your safety for valid reasons, but you reassure him that you won’t “die from the trip,” and no, this wouldn’t “be the last time” they’d see you before you leave

so when you stopped by Rakuzan’s gym after school after looking at the online maps, Hayama lets out a screech of terror before he starts pointing at you and calling you the “crazy ass chick” who tried to have a first-row seat ticket to death LOL

Hayama’s commotion brought everyone else’s attention to you, and Akashi was very surprised to see you all the way here

but he’s just standing at the back to watch how his teammates are reacting to you

Reo is the guy who would welcome you very warmly and would introduce you to the other team members who aren’t the starters, and he would actually ask if you were okay from last time

Nebuya is very laid back and throws a few muscle jokes much to Reo’s dismay, and he makes a comment about not you possibly not eating enough because at the time, he saw you almost tripping up your feet after you cussed out Akashi… he offers you his extra bowls if you ever feel hungry VERY SWEET GUY

Mayuzumi thinks you have balls, like who the fuck would come out alive after cussing out his captain but then COME BACK to said school of the captain… like why would you willingly walk back into the lion’s den??? so he thinks you’re dumb, but he has a shred of respect for you

Akashi is so amused at the spectacle and finally walks over to you after you noticed him

and he gives you an embrace and a chaste forehead kiss, and the entire gym goes silent

“Sei! I wanted to drop by as a surprise! Did you expect me?”

“Hm, I may have expected you to come sooner or later, but definitely not this quickly. Were transportation fees too much of a hassle?”

“Nope! I got everything covered! Do you want me to give you any chiropractic massages if you and your teammates need it?”

“You don’t need to do that, (y/n). You came here as a guest, not as a manager.”

“But…”

“Shhh, as soon as practice is done, I’ll take you anywhere you want in Kyotō. How does that sound?”

“Er… captain?” Reo holds up a hesitant finger to interrupt the two of you, while everyone else looks horrified at the sight of their captain looking serene

“Get a room, will you?” Mayuzumi only tuts in irritation while turning away to grab a nearby water bottle to down in one go

Nebuya merely stares in astonishment at the two of you, and his mind is thinking how the hell did you reel in this guy?

nah man, Hayama is GONE at this point: his brain has stopped functioning a while ago, and he’s standing there as stiff as a statue, scratching his head like a lost monkey // like he’s thinking how the fuck did this shit add up?? in his mind, he’s taking 2 plus 2 but it somehow ends up 94… that’s how he’s processing what he’s witnessing

the rest of the benchers and lower-string players are confused? who ARE you anyways?? Akashi?? dating??? that’s Rakuzan gossip of the century

TLDR; your first trip to Rakuzan may be awkward because the two of you stick out like a sore thumb, but eventually after multiple trips, the team slowly begins to consider you as one of their own

as per Akashi’s “suggestion” (hint: not a suggestion, but a strong recommendation), you were to be retreated with respect and kindness

why? Because Akashi never wants a repeat of the situation at Teiko ever again :(

as long as he is captain, and as long as he has the power and authority, he will do everything he can to make you happy and comfortable

don’t worry though, the Rakuzan starters are more than willing to punt any kid who talks shit about you

surprisingly, once Hayama comes around and accepts the fact that you were dating the captain, he’d be the most adamant and vocal protector, and he’s the one who shares the “inside tips and tricks” about the captain EEEE it’s so wholesome !!

the Rakuzan team is your certified bodyguard group, no debate

Reo might be the nosy mom who asks about who confessed first and the like…

the END, and I DO MEAN THE END THIS TIME

[bruhlsbees]

sapphire strings || modern!andrea marowski x gn!reader

summary: andrea marowski is an exchange student from poland and reader's stand partner in their orchestra

pairing: modern!andrea marowski x female!reader

warnings: super fluffy, possibly bad polish translations, stupidly disgustingly sweet

word count: 3,588

a/n: i just watched ladies in lavender for the first time and i adore andrea so much - such a sweet sweet boy, if you can catch the poor white chicks reference in this i will love you forever.....also check out @creme-bruhlee newest andrea marowski fanfiction because they've only posted the first chapter and you can tell it's already going to be wonderful!!

The auditorium echoed with the sounds of sheet music rustling, instruments being tuned, and those who ignored the conductor and chose to continue to play their instruments, despite others needing to desperately tune their own. It was rather chaotic - but you expected nothing different as the orchestra was preparing to enter a new concert cycle, the crazed energy still among many as the conductor passed out the new piece.

Sitting in the back, all alone, you waited until the violinists in front passed your copy of the new piece back to you. For the new concert, the orchestra would be playing ‘Dvorak - New World Symphony’. Everyone was surprised to say the least when the conductor had announced it. While it wasn’t too challenging for most of those who were in the orchestra, it still gave the conductor enough room to push you all for what he knew you could achieve.

When the girl in front of you turned around, smiling as she extended her arm out above your stand to hand you your copy, you snatched it quickly from her, eyes lighting up as you set it flat on your stand, opening the booklet to scan your section. You ignored her laugh, and the rolling of her eyes, paying attention only to the set of notes - airbowing along as you hummed to yourself.

Despite being last chair in the first violin section, you were just as enthusiastic as the others - perhaps even more than some. You didn’t mind sitting in the back, alone, it meant that you had to only rely on yourself and if you screwed up it was your fault...that and you didn’t drag anyone down with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, the idea of having a stand partner was not something that you were fond of.

Continuing to airbow, body swaying to the music that played in your head, your motions came to a slow stop as you heard the conductor tap his baton on his stand, raising his hands to gather the attention of everyone. You hadn’t realized until looking up, but there was someone new standing beside him. Someone younger who held his violin close to his chest.

This was weird, you weren’t expecting to have any new member of the orchestra.

“Everyone! Please, settle down for just a moment,” The conductor began, hushing the orchestra with his hands before smiling at the silence, “As you may know, we are transitioning from our previous concert cycle and into our new one-” The claps and whistles that erupted from the percussion section sent out an erupt of laughters from the orchestra, even a stifled one from the conductor. Shaking his head, the conductor tapped on the stand to gather everyone back in.

“Yes, glad to hear we have some enthusiasm over that...anyways, as I was saying, we are entering our new concert cycle and there will be some minor changes with our orchestra. This isn’t a bad thing, but a good thing! We will be having a new violinist joining us all the way from Poland.” Motioning towards the gentleman beside him, the conductor smiled and nudged for the gentleman to step up on the podium with him.

“This here is Andrea Marowski. He will be performing with us for this next concert cycle. Now Andrea, if I remember correctly, you said you played quite frequently back home?”

You watched as the shy boyish grin on Andrea’s face spread, cheeks going pink as he nodded, obviously not too much of a fan with the attention drawn to him. “Tak, I play for Poland orchestra.”

The heavy Polish accent slowed his words a bit, as if he were trying to make sure to annunciate what he was saying in English correctly. You caught yourself smiling ever so slightly, thinking it was cute to see him try so hard.

Your conductor, however, was not as swooned over the Polish violinist as you were. He nodded, clapping the man’s back, before turning Andrea towards your section. You watched as he pointed at you, whispering something to Andrea before returning to the podium. Your smile dropped slightly, shifting in your seat as Andrea approached your stand, hovering next to the open seat that was on the inside.

“Witaj! I was told to sit here?” The statement sounded more like a question, and perhaps that was because the expression that stained your face was not the most welcoming. You were comfortable with the routine you had for yourself - and now it seemed like things were messing up.

“Well if you were told to sit here, you probably are meant to sit here.” You mumbled after a moment of silence, watching as he tilted his head to the side, confused as he didn’t quite catch what you had said. Before he could ask you to repeat what you had said, you were already moving down towards his chair, pulling some of your folders from the chair to set under your own.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Andrea tentatively take a seat, as if he knew that the seat wasn’t meant for him. His back was straight, stiff, like he was already going in to play. You wondered just how big of a deal this guy was over in Poland, because the way he held himself with his violin said almost enough.

To distract yourself from your new stand partner, you vigorously went to work airbowing the song, eyes fixed only on the pages in front of you. You weren’t usually the one to get flustered so easily over something so small, but this piece was something you were looking forward to for a long time and you wanted- needed, it to be perfect.

The sudden rap of the baton hitting the stand caught your attention, pulling you from the piece and up at the conductor, smiling at everyone with his warm smile. The two of you were close, having practiced many years with him - he was almost like a father to you - perhaps if you talked with him alone, he would change the seating arrangement?

“Is everyone ready to practice sight reading?” When a few nods were shook, he raised his hands, preparing to conduct, “Remember the emphasis of sight reading. I do not expect perfection, but to see where we are all at with this piece.”

Taking a deep breath, you raised your violin to your shoulder, adjusting the instrument to not slip from your shoulder before resting your chin on the rest, your back arched straight and foot tapping to the tempo from the metronome. When the conductor began, the strings shot down, moving to the director of the conductor.

At first you were dialed into the music, absorbing every note you could, not processing your surroundings too much until you finally heard Andrea playing beside you. You noticed that he liked to play rather dramatically, drawing out the notes that you wouldn’t think to, but nonetheless it sounded far better than your own. Was this jealousy? Perhaps; you had been with the orchestra for years and kept in the back - so when someone new shows up and clearly is better than you, you couldn’t help but kick yourself.

Shifting your sight from the paper and to Andrea, you began to airbow to watch him. His dark brows were furrowed, lips pursed, concentrating on doing his best for the sight reading. You thought to yourself how he looked funny - like a little kid being angry. You couldn’t help but smile, despite their own emotions feeling rage.

You didn’t know how long you were staring at him, airbowing sloppily, because when you looked up from his fingers and back to his face, his eyes were on you, and the expression on his face was not one of pleasure. With a ‘what are you doing’ expression, he motioned towards the booklet before it finally hit you that you missed the page turn.

With crimson ears, a burning sensation rose up your neck and to your face. You quickly turned and flipped the page, both of you doing your best to figure out where you were, but by the time you found it, the conductor had already stopped. This was embarrassing. How could you miss a page turn? Now he was probably thinking that you were an idiot!

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a soft exhale, listening as the conductor praised you for doing better than he had expected. Your thoughts were racing, too quickly for your brain to process anything. The only thing that you managed to process, however, was Andrea’s voice directed towards you.

“Ołówek?”

Snapping your head towards your left and at him, your frown deepened, confused as to what you had said to you, “I beg your pardon?”

He went to say the word again before his mouth snapped shut, frowning as he tried to think of the word before making a scribbling motion, hoping you would get the hint. It took you a moment, but you soon realized what he was asking of you.

“Oh, pencil. Yeah, hold on.” Dipping down, you opened your case and pulled out a pencil, handing it to him. You watched as he smiled, taking the pencil before leaning forward, putting a giant star above the fourth to last measure of the page, indicating for you to turn the page.

You knew that the gesture wasn’t meant to come off rude - but you were already embarrassed and it felt insulting to watch him draw such an obvious cue for you to remember. Andrea, innocent as always, looking over at you, cheeks pink, a smile across his face, as if he were proud of the stupid little star on the page.

Before your own annoyance burst, you were thankful to hear your conductor begin dismissing everyone for the day, saying that they should go out and enjoy the sun while it lasted. Packing your things up quickly, you all but ignored Andrea beside you, who was slowly packing up, a sad beaten puppy dog expression on his face.

When you finished packing, standing up and dragging your chair with the others to be stacked, you left the auditorium in a hurry, not saying goodbye to anyone. When you exited the auditorium, going down the hall, before finally reaching the fresh air of outside, you all but grumbled to yourself, kicking at the loose stones that passed you by.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The rocks that you laid on were not comfortable, although they were dulled by the pain that coursed through you. The thin blanket didn’t provide much cushion, but warmth as the sun passed behind clouds, the wind picking up and pulling the waves in higher. You had your eyes closed, blocking the sun from directing into your pupils, blinding you completely.

Coming to the beach always seemed to help your consciousness nowadays, especially when you had a particularly hard day. You were beginning to sink in guilt with how you acted today in practice. The universe directed you onto a path to something new, something great, and you blew it on your own personal insecurities.

“So practice is going to be held every day. Starts at noon, ends at two. I want you to know that this might not be an easy transition for you, you understand? Your accident left you with permanent damage in your hand, you might not play the same aga-”

“So am I not supposed to try? To get back up, pick up my bow, and try until my hand falls off? Please...you were the one who told me all those years to never give up on myself, and now it seems as though you are. I want to be here, I was meant to be here. I can do this. I know I’m rusty, I do, but if I just give up now, I would never forgive myself.”

The conductor pursed his lips, nodding sadly at you before reaching his hand over the desk, taking your weaker one in his, holding it tenderly.

“You’re lucky to be able to still use your hand. I don’t want you to overdo it. You know I enjoy you in the orchestra, but you have to think about the rest of your life. What is to come of you if you lose the ability to use your hand by next spring? Then what?”

You knew the question was meant to sink in - to make you realize that it was important to think into the future...but that was just it, you didn’t think of the future, you thought about the moment, what was going on in the present.

Leaning forward, you placed your stronger hand on his, smiling at him, “And what if I don’t lose my hand by next spring? Have I given up on a whole year to grow? To one day sit back again in the first chair? This is my choice, and I will take all of your concerns to the heart, but at the end of the day, if I want to play, I’ll be damn sure that I am in one of those chairs.”

The determination was something the conductor had been fond of with you. The flicker of hope you always had in your eyes radiated onto the others which brought for a positive environment and a stronger bond within the orchestra.

And now - a year and a half later, your hand was growing stronger each day, and your skill was catching back up to where you were before the accident. You were still not where you wanted to be, nor where you wanted, but it was a start. A start in the right direction. The conductor explained that for the year coming back from your accident you would sit in the back, learn sometimes slower than the others, to make sure you didn’t strain your hand.

At first you were enraged by the decision, but as time went on, you knew it was for the better. The year off from first chair was only that - a year - a year compared to a lifetime didn’t seem too bad by the end of the day. And so when the Polish violinist waltzed into the room, showcasing the same enthusiasm you once held, it saddened you, reminded you of your own demons.

He was better than you, and you hated to admit it - because you knew that you would never be as good as him again. But that wasn’t his fault, and that’s why you were here now, on the beach, drowning in your sorrows.

Holding your hands close to you, head propped up by your violin case, you baked in the warmth of the sun, silent tears spilling down your cheeks. You took in a shaky breath and held it for a moment, listening to your rapid heartbeat as you tried to calm down, before finally exhaling slow. After three more times, you felt calmer, more at peace with your surroundings.

And then the sun went out, like someone turning off the lights.

Opening your eyes, your eyebrows furrowed as you saw none other than Andrea, standing above you, with a small smile on his face. When you processed who it was, you quickly pushed yourself up off your blanket, standing up to meet his chest, looking up to his eyes.

“Witaj!” Extending his hand out, he held a small purple flower towards you, motioning for you to take it - and you did, carefully taking the flower he gave you and smiled, mumbling a thank you.

Nodding his head, Andrea stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around awkwardly before back at you, “Water pretty.” He commented, as if trying to fill the dead space between you two.

You turned your attention back towards the ocean and smiled, nodding before looking back at him, “Yes, I think so.” Twirling the purple flower in your fingers, you felt the heavy weight of the silence sit on you, wondering what to say next. Did he want something? Was he here to yell at you? Part of you knew that if he were to yell, he would have every right - after all, you were a complete jerk to him throughout practice.

But he didn’t, he never did.

Moving around you, Andrea took a seat on your blanket before patting the space beside him. At first you didn’t move, debating on whether you would want to share the space with him, but then your heart tugged, and the next thing you knew you were beside him on the blanket, shoulders pressed against one another as you both looked out towards the ocean.

“You play....” He paused, trying to think of the word he was looking for in English. While he thought, your stomach twisted in knots. What would he say? Was he looking for the word bad? No good? Despicable? Was this man going to destroy your entire career with just one wor-

“Me-Mez...merisi?” Looking down, your cheeks grew even hotter than they had in the auditorium. Did he just say that your playing was mesmerizing? You knew he must have heard the word on the television or radio, because it wasn’t a word you’d ever thought to describe yourself.

“Mesmerizing?” You questioned, watching as he nodded, agreeing proudly as he got the word right. You shook your head, laughing lightly, “I wouldn’t say that...but thank you.”

Clearing your throat, you felt silent, playing with the flower again before turning, opening your violin case to set the flower in, so it wouldn’t get lost or ruined, before closing the case again. You were then again met with the silence between you two.

And then, the bubbling sensation brewed in you again - the guilt that was eating away at you. You knew that you’d have to apologize here and now, or spend the entire night tossing and turning with another thing to feel guilty over. But you didn’t want his pity, you didn’t want to explain why you were upset because there was nothing to be upset over. That was just it though, right now wasn’t about you, at least not entirely.

Taking a deep breath, letting out an exhale, you turned and looked up at Andrea, who seemed fixed on the ocean, “Andrea?” You began, gaining his attention. When you stared into his honey eyes, the smile growing on his face, you smiled back, continuing on.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for earlier, how I acted,” You pointed at your weak hand, before dropping it back in your lap, “I was in an accident last year, hurt my hand, could not play well.” You tried to speak slow, making sure he was following before continuing on. “I was sad hearing you play, because you are...mezmerisi.”

Andrea let out a soft laugh, his smile growing until you could see the two rows of teeth in his mouth, your own laugh escaping, feeling ridiculous at the lame joke. But you were glad to see that he wasn’t mad, and for the most part, he seemed to understand.

“I understand.” Turning his attention from you and to the rocks and shells beside the blanket, his eyes lit up and leaned forward, pressing himself against you, disregarding your personal space, as he reached for a seashell, pulling back before holding it up for you to see.

Smiling, you nodded, “Seashell, yes. Pretty.” And it was - a beautiful shark’s eye moon shell with hues of blue, purple, and orange glazed over the white. You watched as he extended the shell to you before shaking your head, closing his hand with your own, “Keep it, Andrea.”

At first he seemed to be sad that you didn’t accept his gift, but soon tucked the shell into his coat pocket, turning back to look out at the sea. You followed in suit, turning and leaning against him once again slightly, looking out at the sea as the sun began to set.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you sat in your seat the next day in practice, you got your stand ready, setting your bow on the bottom shelf of the stand, a pencil ready in case you or Andrea needed it. After your talk yesterday with him, you felt better with yourself and the idea of being someone’s stand partner again. Despite your own accident, it did not make you a burden towards others. Andrea was patient and he did his best, in his poor English, to make it known that he would help you when you needed it.

So when he came in that day, a glowing smile on his face, bidding the conductor and others in your section a ‘good afternoon’, he soon came to you, sitting in his chair to your left before pulling out his things; rosin, an extra pencil, and the seashell he found yesterday.

Blushing, your attention shifted from the seashell and to him, a smirk on your face as you got him smirking back, acting nonchalant while getting his shoulder rest ready and tuning his violin.

Maybe it was a placebo effect on your mind, maybe it was the seashell, the conversation yesterday with Andrea, your conversation with the conductor a year ago, or your own realization that your own growth would make you better than you’ve ever played before - but in a different way.

Whatever it was though, that day during practice, was the best practice you’d had in a very long time.

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 7

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 7

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4184

Summary: Life moves toward normalcy for Sam and the reader, regardless of emotional turmoil.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

          A few days later the Kaisers came into the bar for a nightcap and asked you and Sam to come to their house for dinner. You couldn’t think of a reason not to, and honestly thought maybe it would be nice to have something to structure the week around. It had been quiet, just barely beneath solemn while the dust settled and Sam stayed mostly silent while you moved around each other throughout the day. At least at the Kaisers’ Sam would have to talk to you, maybe even sidle up close to you during waking hours to keep up the couples’ charade. A little zap of guilt moved through you as you politely agreed to a time, that the second thought you’d had was about getting closer to Sam under this guise. In any case, the Kaisers were kind, it wouldn’t hurt to have a nice meal with someone else, and if you were going to stay here, it would be a good idea to avoid appearing standoffish. You bought their last drink and were waving after them when Sam came upstairs from changing a keg.

           “We’re going to the Kaisers’ for dinner tomorrow,” you offered, trying to keep your voice even and making a point of not staring at Sam too long. It was a challenge; since Sam had kissed you and even more since he’d divulged that longing was part of the tangle of emotions he was feeling, it was on your mind nearly constantly, adding a murky stripe to the ever-present grief.

           “Oh, uh, okay.” Sam jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans like he didn’t know what to do with them. “What time?”

           “They said 7:30. Don’t let me forget; I think we should bring a bottle of wine or something, so I can grab one tomorrow.”

           “Yeah, that works.”

           You wanted to drag out the conversation but couldn’t think of any way to that wasn’t cloying or desperate. If this (hopefully temporary) emotional distance was what Sam needed, it was unfair for you to try to take it from him. A quick nod and you returned to washing glasses.

           The rest of the shift passed agonizingly slowly. Sam put on a podcast about Jonestown for the drive home.

           You’d decided to walk over to the Kaisers’ with Sam the next day, bundled up on top of a presentable sweater that you hadn’t worn in a few years. Biting wind sliced through your jeans and seemed to creep into your coat even as you dug your chin inside the collar like a turtle, and when Sam noticed he threw an arm around you. His side blocked a bit of the wind and he rubbed your shoulder to warm it with friction. The impulse to curl up into his ribs was fierce, but you fought it down to wrap your forearms around the bottle of red wine that looked the fanciest of the midrange bottles at the grocery store. Where seconds before you had been wishing the walk were shorter, now you could’ve stayed out in the ice forever if it meant Sam would allow himself to be close to you again without being asleep. You’d made peace with the want, trying hard to decide that feeling crazy on top of your grief wasn’t helping anyone.

           “Ready?” Sam asked with a tentative smile at the doorway. The Kaisers lived in a version of your cabin, in the sense that many of the houses in the area were log-hewn and rustic. However, they were clearly here to stay. Window flowerbeds filled with pinecones for the season and delicately carved shutters framed warm casts of light streaming onto the snow through gauzy ivory curtains, and their door opened to a tiny front porch where yours simply had a small ungraceful cement platform. For a moment, you thought about how comforting it would be to come back here at the end of a shift. It didn’t feel like somewhere as darling as this could have a half-broken boiler that rattled all day or plastic-coated countertops. This was a home and not a hideout.

           You gave Sam what you hoped was a reassuring grin and watched as his long finger pressed an old-fashioned doorbell encased in wrought iron.

           Mike answered the door. He had on a fuzzy pullover that made him look even more like a teddy bear than he normally did, nubbly wool spanning his belly like fur. He had the kind of rosy full-cheeked smile some jolly men combined with their booming voices to seem like the Ghost of Christmas Present, and a well-groomed beard with two starkly delineated streaks of gray-white dropping straight down from the corners of his mouth. From previous neighborly hugs, you knew he smelled like piney aftershave. He was a little taller than average, and built former-linebacker solid. You would’ve bet anything he was the perfect dad to call to help move you into a college apartment or scare an ex-boyfriend, and the thought of it made you cheerful and sad all at once. The hand not holding the doorknob had a pint of dark beer. “Great, you’re here! Babs, they’re here,” he added over his shoulder, gesturing an arm to welcome you into the home.

           Sam waited for you to go first, shuffling his feet along the doormat in tandem with you as Mike closed the door. You followed Mike’s socked initiative and gently toed your boots off while you handed him the bottle of wine somewhat shyly. For all the years you’d been on your own, there was something so decidedly adult about bringing wine over to the dinner party of a middle-aged couple that felt like those first few meetings of your parents’ friends after college, when you’re not sure whether to call them by their first names or resign yourself to a life of Mr This and Mrs That. Mike seemed to pick up on it, thoughtfully appraising the bottle and squeezing your shoulder, humming about how you didn’t have to bring anything. He clapped Sam on the back and asked him how he was doing before teasing gently about how long his hair had gotten, and you took in the house.

           It was bigger than the cabin you were staying in, the staircase to your left suggesting an upstairs that yours didn’t have, but what was far more striking was how warm it felt both in mood and literal temperature. A fire crackled straight through the main room in front of you, surrounded by giant river rock stonework that offset caramelly beige walls. A deep, plush canvas sofa faced the fireplace, flanked by two equally overstuffed armchairs upholstered with burnt sienna stained leather. Quick visual survey gave you a count of 4 throws in the room of various weights and patterns.

           The kitchen was over to the right through the dining room. Barbie was wearing an apron covered in piglets and appeared to be basting something in the oven, turning toward you and absentmindedly wiping her hands. Fluffy, soft-looking hair was held back from her face with a pair of no-nonsense tortoiseshell barrettes. “Oh, perfect! I thought I hadn’t left enough time for the roast, but it looks about done. Can I get you two a drink?”

           Sam’s soft, encouraging smile was enough to make you feel a little weak in the knees. “Sure! It smells great in here.”

           “How about an old fashioned? We’ve been working through a great bottle of bourbon.”

           “Works for me,” Sam agreed, and you nodded as well.

           A few moments of small talk later, Sam offered to help Barbie with the food. She graciously accepted, giving him some job you knew she could’ve easily done herself as a way to make him feel more comfortable. Mike noticed you looking at the variety of pictures on the wall and started talking about their kids, putting names to each cheerful face. They were a good-looking family, the Kaisers, all big beaming smiles and limbs protectively wrapped around each other over the course of different seasons and major events. You’d had to let go of this idea years ago, long before Dean was gone, but it still made you ache in a nondescript way to see a family so happy and so each others’, not only in the way they loved but also in the way they so obviously belonged. Mike and Barbie were good people, and they deserved this. You tried to focus on the affection in Mike’s face as he talked, asking a few clarifying questions as he went. A few moments later, Sam came up behind you.

           “Barbie says we should go sit down.” There was a pinkness to his cheeks and you couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of the kitchen or residual windburn from your walk over.

           The table was one of those single-plank, live-edged ones you’d always coveted and knew were far more expensive than they looked. It fit the elevated rustic feel of the Kaisers’ house and the delicious, rib-sticking meal you were eating off of it. As you fawned over the roast and Barbie did the requisite Midwestern dance of ‘oh it’s nothing I’ll give you the recipe’ it was easy to fantasize about belonging somewhere like this, having parents like this, pictures of your cousins and nieces and nephews lining the walls of your childhood home. Indulgent, clearly, even more so than the rich food and smooth liquor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it.

           “So, have you two always worked in the bar industry? That always seemed so fun to me—but I’m too old to do anything like that now,” Barbie asked.

           “Oh, come on, you’d be a great bartender,” Sam insisted, always coming down on the exact right spot between flattering and politely flirtatious. “But uh, no. This is the first bar I’ve worked in for more than a few weeks, actually.”

           Mike raised his eyebrows in an indication to continue but Sam artfully avoided his gaze. You couldn’t tell what the cue was—how honest was Sam planning on being? An old classic, the technically-true, seemed like the best option. “I worked as a bartender through and a little bit after college.”

           “Silly me, I guess I had always thought that’s how you two had met; you seem like such a good team there! How did you meet, then?”

           You artfully popped an entire fingerling potato in your mouth to force Sam to take over. “Uh, our, ah, families were friends.” In the sense that Bobby had been like an uncle to you both, maybe. A complete non-answer that sort of encompassed the barebones of the situation if you squinted at it right, but neither Mike nor Barbie seemed to recognize the opacity of it.

           “That’s great. I bet your parents were excited then, seeing you get together,” Mike suggested before taking a sip of bourbon. Both you and Sam smiled affirmatively—not together, many of those parents long dead before we had even met—and hoped the moment would pass. “How long has it been, then? Since you got together?”

           That one you couldn’t even guess what the right pretend answer would be and prepared to joke ‘too long’ before Sam said, “About two years. We knew each other for a long time before that, though.” It made sense, as far as answers went. ‘About two years’ since Dean was gone, since your lives changed, but it still ripped through you like an electric shock and sent you reeling. You could have spent an hour looking at that statement from every angle but snapped out of it when Barbie gave you a basket of rolls to pass to Mike.

           “So that explains why she doesn’t have a ring,” Mike winked, playfully knocking Sam’s arm with his fork still in his hand. “Two years isn’t that long.”

           Two years is a lifetime. Sam blushed and looked down at his plate. “Be nice. Kids don’t get married at 20 like they used to,” Barbie teased from across the table, smirking at her husband with so much love behind her eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would’ve looked at Dean like that across some dining room table if things had been different and your mind flashed on the kitchen counter a few nights before, silently clinking rocks glasses together over pie and wanting to hold Sam until the world got more fair.

           The plates were cleared and an amazing, sticky bread pudding was brought out. Mike and Barbie coaxed each other into telling stories that made you genuinely belly laugh until finally you couldn’t suppress a tiny yawn and the final drink was poured with a joke about how it wasn’t like you were driving home, so what was the harm? You all moved to the living room in front of the fire, sitting next to Sam on the couch when Mike and Barbie took what must’ve been their normal spots in each armchair. Old cushions folded up around you comfortingly and rolled you slightly into Sam’s weight next to you, lining up the firm stretch of his thigh along yours. Warmth from the fire and Sam, the pleasant sounds of your hosts’ voices and Sam’s answers to them rumbling through you as vibrations when he spoke were so sweet and heavy under the bourbon, and your eyelids began to droop.

           Sam’s hand gently covered your knee. “Ready to go?” he asked, low with a private smirk.

           You made a conscious effort to sit up straight. “I’m so sorry, I can barely keep my eyes open! Where are my manners?”

           Mike laughed a big belly laugh from his armchair. “Babs, we’re outlasting the bartenders!”

           Everyone chuckled as you all got up from your chairs, Sam accepting a Tupperware of leftovers before the at-the-doorway conversation of people who didn’t want to go and hosts who didn’t want them to either. You’d been so nervous about the dinner and now you didn’t want to leave, honestly hadn’t really wanted to leave the sofa, just doze against Sam in the heat and company like a child. It had seemed before like maybe Mike and Barbie were just asking you for dinner because it was the thing to do, but they had been genuinely welcoming and you realized that these were the first non-hunter or hunting-related relationships you had made in literal years as you zipped your coat up all the way to the top and followed Sam outside into the quiet night.

           “Man, they are really nice,” he remarked, walking closely enough next to you that your sleeves brushed together.

           You could barely see his face when you looked up to him. “Yeah. We should have them over sometime.”

           “Our place looks like a flop house.”

           You giggled, the sound falling softly on the snow around you. “We can fix it up first.”

           “No real point in fixing it up if we’re not staying here for a long time.”

           “Maybe we could stay a while.”

           Sam looked down at you, slowing to a stop even as the icy wind whipped around you. “You want to stay?”

           “I mean, I—yeah, I think I do. Unless you think we should go somewhere else.”

           “No, I just…I guess I hadn’t really considered it here, the whole “roots” thing.”

           “It’s fucking freezing, can we talk at the cabin?”

           Sam’s laugh rang out across the woodsy surroundings as he clapped an arm around you and shuffled you both home.

           That night you tucked your cold toes between Sam’s flannel-clad legs and tried to imagine Dean as an old man.

           If you’d thought December and January were bad, the intense cold snap of February sent you for a loop. Something about the months of darkness and frozen fingers was making you more stir crazy than normal; the idea of coming home to the cabin seeming less and less enticing as the days went on.

           And then the boiler broke.

           Well and truly broke, not just making the horrible clanging sounds it was prone to, but no heat at all. It had only been a couple weeks since going to dinner at the Kaisers’ and the experimental conversation with Sam about investing time into the cabin which had since fizzled out. A lack of heat at the border of the Upper Peninsula in winter was obviously untenable, and it forced the topic again as you grumpily helped carry in the remnants of another dead tree Sam had felled to heat the home with firewood.

           “Is it worth fixing or is this a sign?” you huffed through the tiny clouds of steam coming out of your mouth. “How much would it cost?”

           “I don’t have a ton of experience with boilers, but I’m pretty sure it’s the heat exchanger. And I have no idea how much it would cost to fix, but I can try to do it myself if the parts aren’t too much.” Pragmatic, genius Sam with the patience for machinery that you didn’t have. He snaked a long arm out from the bundle of wood he was carrying to open the door and hold it for you to scurry under his arm before closing it after both of you.

           Generally, you thought a landlord would probably fix this kind of thing but it always felt a little scary asking him for anything, knowing you paid cash every month and the owner had never asked for a background check. It could have been fine, but every potential conflict seemed like it might be an opportunity to be unceremoniously evicted. Better to either leave before it could happen or solve the problem yourselves. You put a hand on Sam’s chest before he could go back for another bundle of wood. “Let’s talk about it for a second.”

           Sam put his hands on his hips and it accentuated the broad span of his shoulders in his thick jacket. “Okay, right. What do you think?”

           “Well, I mean, do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go somewhere else, or start moving again or something? We haven’t even really talked about it.”

           He seemed to be weighing the options before biting his lip. “Here seems as good a place as any in a lot of ways, you know? Off the beaten path, probably not going to get spotted by anyone we know—knew—and the money is honest.”

           You cut him off with a flippant wave of the hand. “Right, but I’m not talking strategically. Do you want to stay here? Do you like it here?”

           A moment of silence fell as you searched his face for clues. “I—yeah, I do. I like being in the woods, I like the bar, I like people like the Kaisers and Steve and Jake. Maybe I’ll feel differently in the summer but right now I do.”

           The grin cracked open your face slowly. “Good. I like it here too. Do you think the hardware store would have the stuff you need to fix it?”

           “Definitely the first place I would check.”

           After getting the rest of the wood inside and leaving it next to the small fire already burning to dry out, you started to follow Sam to the car before he turned around a step before the door. “Where are you going?” he asked as you almost bumped into him.

           “Hardware store, I thought?”

           “Nice try, we can’t both leave with a fire going.”

           “Oh, I get it. So you get to go sit in the warm car and hang out in the warm hardware store while I turn into a popsicle over here.” You were half-joking, but it was genuinely freezing in the cabin, even with the fire going. Sam rolled his eyes over a smirk and strode around you, pushing the couch tight to the fireplace before retrieving the down comforter from the bed and throwing it on top. He grabbed a rinsed plastic bottle from the top of the recycling bin and filled it with water hot from the tap before throwing it in the microwave for a second.

           “Unless you feel like learning a lot about boilers today, then yes.” He gingerly pulled the bottle out of the microwave and tightened the cap back on, deftly shifting it between hands before tossing it under the comforter on the sofa.

           You were having a hard time holding onto your anger as you watched him make a cup of peppermint tea, still wearing his boots and coat as he moved around the tiny kitchen. Reluctantly, you shuffled over to the couch and removed only your boots and gloves before getting under the blankets, tucking your socked feet around the poor man’s hot water bottle and finally smiling only when Sam brought over the steaming mug of tea with more than a touch of affection under the exasperation coloring his face. “Fine?”

           “Fine.”

           When he came back, you were well into a worn paperback and had put two more logs on the fire already. “Do you need help?” you called over your shoulder from within the comforter cocoon.

           “I think I’ve got it, thanks.” His words came into the room on a gust of cold air while he tapped snow off of his boots.

           “Think you know what you’re doing?”

           “Actually, yeah. The woman at the hardware store—you’d recognize her, Diane I think—knew a fair amount about it. I’m pretty sure I have it under control.” He brought a paper bag weighted with supplies over to the utility closet you knew held the boiler and got to work.

           It was nice watching Sam in this element, always had been. As much as Dean had loved doing little projects and fixing things, both Winchesters were far handier than your average bear and Sam’s natural interest in learning lent itself well to tinkering with all kinds of things. Evidently boilers were not an exception. He shucked his coat off to lie flat on his back, looking up  at something you couldn’t see with his hands gently resting on his ribcage before reaching to grab a wrench. The twisting motion raised his elbow and tugged his shirt a bit up his torso to reveal a few inches of Sam’s lower abdomen, the trail of hair tracing to his belt buckle in slightly sharper contrast to the taught skin around it given the consecutive months spent without sun. It made you blush and you quickly looked back to your book, grateful for the heat that the fireplace was bringing to your cheeks as cover.

           About forty minutes later, Sam tapped your shoulder and startled you out of the goofy historical fiction of the paperback. “Wanna see if it works?”

           He had a stripe of oil or something on his cheek but you resisted the impulse to swipe it off, instead nodding and extricating yourself from the heat of the blanket and couch around you. When you turned it on, the boiler clicked loudly twice in a way you thought might be a bad omen before going silent again. You let an extended beat pass and placed a palm on the side. It was already on the edge of being too hot to touch and you momentarily forgot that you and Sam had decidedly not been continuing your new normal level of comforting affection lately before throwing your arms up high around his neck excitedly. He chuckled into your ear and closed the embrace, forearms crossing your ribcage and hoisting you off the ground as he stood up in your hug. You could feel the fingers of one hand splayed out over your back and side through your jacket, the other still holding the wrench tightly.

           “Okay, no promises it’s going to last, but I think that was it,” Sam offered as you released each other.

           “Crank it! I want it to feel like the Caribbean in here.”

           “You say that now, and in 3 hours you’re going to be whining about how hot you are,” Sam grinned, clearly feeling a little proud of himself even if he wouldn’t admit it. He tapped the wrench absentmindedly against his palm for a moment, considering whether he wanted to say something. “When I was at the hardware store she said our landlord might be open to cutting our rent if we offered to fix up the place.”

           “Who’s we?” you teased, holding your frozen fingers close to the boiler like it was a campfire.

           “I thought you might say that. But seriously, I know you don’t like the color of the walls or the shower pressure or whatever, could make it feel a little less…sterile.”

           You tried not to remember that the last time you’d picked out paint was for a bright pink bedroom at age 12. Sam was right, it could be nice. Even more than that, it would be great to have some leftover cash around, and an extra project to kill a few hours of daylight wasn’t a bad idea.

           “I kind of like the sound of that. I’ll talk to him about whether he’d be game.” Sam squeezed your shoulder before massaging your neck, admiring the boiler distractedly when you continued. “And seriously, thank you for fixing it.”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 8

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 2: Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Fire

@lumosinlove Thank you for your lovely characters! This has been so fun to write. :)

Hope you guys enjoy!

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

Leo took one look one look at his co-star slumped at a table in the break room and changed his trajection to include a stop at the coffee machine. “Morning, Dorcas.”

“You’re not allowed to talk right now.”

He laughed under his breath, pressing the espresso button and opening the fridge to look for any non-expired milk products. “Talking is a big part of our job, you know.”

“Does it look like I’m on the clock right now?”

Leo hummed noncommittally, stirring some whole milk into the coffee before sliding it across the table to Dorcas. “Rough night?”

She grabbed the mug and took a tentative sip. Her shoulders relaxed fractionally and she let out a relieved sigh. “I forgot that you actually know how to make office coffee taste good.”

“I’m offended that you doubted me.” Leo took the empty seat next to her. “Now what happened?”

Dorcas looked down at her hands wrapped tightly around her mug, expression carefully neutral. “I broke up with her.” She laughed humorlessly. “I knew it wasn’t working for a while now, so I don’t understand why I’m so upset about it. Our schedules never lined up and we never really saw each other anymore. So I figured it was best to do it now instead of dragging it out.”

Leo knew she wasn’t one for physical affection, so he just sat by her side. “Still hurts, though. She was a big part of your life for a while now; it’s ok to be upset about it, no matter what the circumstances of the breakup are.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to be ok. Might not feel like it right now, but you’re as tough as they come.”

“Relationships are shit.”

“Breakups are shit.” Leo corrected gently.

“You know, sometimes people just want to feel like shit for a while. You don’t have to try and fix everything all the time.” She said, but her voice was teasing instead of accusatory. “How are you not emotionally exhausted all the time?”

“A lifetime of practice and sheer force of will.”

Dorcas laughed and shoved him away. “You suck.”

“If you want someone to just rant to, I can definitely make room for that tonight. You can experiment with your cocktail recipes, then get unbelievably drunk off them and trash talk all night.”

“You just want free drinks.”

“Consider it payment for the coffee and pep talk.” He said, rising to his feet. “Come on, we should get to the studio.”

She smiled and followed Leo out the door. “If there’s one thing guaranteed to cheer me up, it’s watching other people fail spectacularly at cooking.”

Dorcas got the cue from the director and started their cooking segment. “Recruits, today I’ll be showing you how to make perfectly-done mashed potatoes, and chef Leo will be teaching you how to make bone-in ribeye. Make sure you’re taking notes – you can use those when you attempt to recreate this dish later today.” There was a frantic flurry of movement as everyone took their notepads out and tried to find their pens.

“All right,” Leo grabbed a large slab of ribeye from the ingredients counter with both hands and heaved it onto the front table. Several recruits flinched back while others looked sick at the sight of their meat actually resembling the animal it came from. He bit back a smile and picked up a butcher’s knife.

God, he loved this job.

“So we’re just going to cut these and then you’re going to take a towel and just basically tear this portion of the meat off in one big piece. You see that? Then we’re going to add oil to a hot pan and drop the steak in.” The sizzling sound of the Maillard reaction filled the room. “We’re going to be basting this with thyme and half a stick of butter once the meat is cooked.”

A frantic whisper of “What the hell is basting?” rose up as Dorcas took over the lead, starting by bringing water to a boil and then waiting for it to reduce to a simmer. Leo watched as several of the recruits’ eyes glazed over, completely lost as Dorcas peeled potatoes in quick, practiced movements.

Leo recognized Logan’s voice as it carried from his spot in the crowd. “Do they have a medic on this show?”

“I hope so.” Finn murmured back.

“Our steak is done now. See the color on that?” Leo grabbed the steak with a pair of tongs and held it up for the recruits to see. “Now for our sauce. Have you guys ever flambéed anything before?”

“Lo, is that French?”

Logan’s microphone just barely picked up his little chuckle. “Yes.”

“Its literal translation means ‘flamed.’” Leo supplied, watching fear develop on their faces and trying his hardest not to laugh, biting his lower lip in the process.

This was only going to end badly, in a glorious blaze of fire.

“We’ve never had a disaster happen on the show flambéing something. Let’s try to keep it that way.” He grabbed the bottle of cognac at his station. “I’m going to take all of this cognac, add it to our pan with the sauce, and light it.”

He grabbed a lighter, flicked it on, and lightly touched it to the surface of the alcohol. Pink-red flames sprung from the pan, causing several of the recruits to shout and step back in alarm. “We’re just going to let it sit and burn off that alcohol.”

Dorcas grabbed her pan and added shallots to it. “I’m going to start getting my shallots sautéed, and –“

“Shallots?” A recruit asked, confusion etched on her face.

“Yes.”

“What are those?”

Dorcas turned and grabbed a shallot from the counter behind her. “This is a shallot.”

“Oh, so an onion.”

“No.” Dorcas said plainly, grabbing a hand mixer to blend her potatoes, butter, and cream. “Once the shallots are cooked, I add them to the potatoes and mix it all together. Then all you have to do is plate all this and you’re done.”

Leo grabbed his saucepan and spooned some out. “Don’t forget to add your sauce on top of the ribeye.”

“Now it’s your job to recreate this dish on your own. You have an hour to complete this challenge. And your time starts… now!”

Chaos ensued. Knives were waved around haphazardly, chopping skills were slim to none. One recruit was still trying to turn the stove on, while another had grabbed a pan that definitely wasn’t going to be big enough for a ribeye steak.

Leo shot Dorcas a horrified look. “Did we go too fast? I thought we explained everything pretty well, but now I’m not sure.”

“That’s just the way of this show.” Dorcas said with a shrug. “We need to see what level they’re on and what their strengths and weaknesses are before we can really start teaching. It gets better when we’re allowed to get out there and help them.”

Finn and Logan had cut off their own ribeyes first and were headed back to their stations. “Oh god I don’t remember anything they showed us.” Finn stressed, putting his ribeye directly onto the pan without any oil.

Logan looked down at his thyme and butter, seemingly at a loss. “Just look at your notes.”

“I can’t read it. You know I have terrible handwriting. Look,” he flipped his notepad around to show Logan. “That’s all I wrote down.”

“Does that say goat?” Logan asked, not bothering to strip the leaves of thyme off the stems and just throwing the entire sprig of herb into his pan.

Finn turned it back around squinted. “Maybe?”

“I like your smiley faces, though.” Logan said, pressing a quick kiss to Finn’s cheek. The redhead smiled broadly.

“Thanks, baby.”

Dorcas hummed by Leo’s side. “I forgot they’re together.”

“Yeah,” Leo absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet around his wrist. “Must be hard. Hockey’s not known for being accepting.” He tried not to think too much about his memories of locker rooms, judgmental eyes, and the slurs of his own teammates from years ago.

A shout from one of the recruits snapped him back to attention. The recruit was halfway across the room from her on-fire sauce and refusing to go back to her station. Leo sighed. “Flambéing was a horrible first lesson.”

“Maybe. But it sure is entertaining.” Dorcas raised her voice to be heard by the contestants. “Don’t leave pans on a stove unattended, please!”

“Let it rain!” Finn shouted, throwing salt into his pot of cooking potatoes. Dorcas cackled joyously as she watched.

“How much salt are you going to put in there?” Leo called, eyes wide.

Finn repeated, “Let it rain!” as if it were an actual answer.

“I think he just put a cup of salt in those potatoes.”

Dorcas was wheezing now, hunched over as she laughed.

“Laugh now, but we’re the ones who have to taste that.”

She instantly stopped laughing. “Oh shit.”

“We’re definitely going to need those drinks tonight.”

***

Logan’s dish was up first. Leo looked down at his steak and fished out a thyme stem, holding it up for him to see. “When you’re working with thyme, you really need to just use the leaves. When the stems are cooked they get really tough and can be like swallowing fish bones when they’re like this.” He cut into the ribeye and took a bite. “But your steak tastes really good. It’s perfectly cooked and not too dry.”

Logan flashed them a blinding smile (that might have left Leo a little speechless, but he wasn’t planning on admitting that anytime soon).

“The potatoes have a good consistency, too.” Dorcas added when Leo didn’t say anything else. “Good job, Logan.”

After several raw steaks, burned steaks, and soupy mashed potatoes were tasted, the dish both of the chefs were dreading the most appeared in front of them.

Finn’s potatoes.

Dorcas looked to Leo, then met Finn’s eyes. “Now, I haven’t come across many things I’m genuinely afraid to eat. But these potatoes…”

Finn laughed good-naturedly. “Yikes.”

Leo’s eyes bulged as he tried the potatoes. “I think I’m dehydrated now.”

“I think I have a water bottle somewhere, if you want it.”

“I’m tempted to take you up on that.” Dorcas said, voice strained. “In the future, go light on the salt.”

In the end, they had to eliminate the contestant who gave them burned steak and didn’t serve mashed potatoes at all. The directors called cut shortly after that and people visibly relaxed, chatting with friends while the cleaning crew came through and started dealing with the mess. Leo felt like he should probably help with that; there sure was a lot to clean. The crew would be here until midnight at this rate. So he grabbed a disinfectant spray and a rag, turning to start wiping things down and almost running right into Logan as he did so.

“Hey, chef!” Finn said from his spot next to the brunet. “Have your taste buds recovered yet?”

He laughed with a shrug. “I have a feeling they’ll be messed up from now until a month after this show ends. That might be for the best, anyways.”

“Why in the hell did you sign up for this?” Logan asked, head tilted in confusion. “You’re forced to eat awful food and watch a bunch of amateurs destroy this kitchen. Seems more stressful than anything.”

“I mean, watching you wave around that knife today just about gave me a heart attack-“ Finn interrupted him with a loud burst of laughter, causing Leo to smile as he continued, “But it’s fun teaching y’all. It’s a good change of pace. Doing just competitions gets old after a while.”

“Yeah, especially if you win all of them.”

Leo felt his cheeks heat up. “Not all of them.”

“Most of them, then.” Logan amended. “Don’t sell yourself short; you’re really good.”

“So are you guys.” Leo stammered a little, trying to think of the right words. “I – I just wanted to say it’s really cool that you’re both raising so much awareness for the need for diversity in hockey. It’s going to make a world of difference to a lot of people.”

I wish I’d had someone like the two of you to look up to when I was growing up.

He played with his bracelet again. It wasn’t a secret that he was gay – he’d talked about it a few times on various shows and competitions he’d participated in. That was one of the best things about the cooking industry. It didn’t matter who you were or what your secrets were; as long as you were a good cook, most people didn’t really care. Leo had realized at a young age that, no matter what he ended up doing with his life, he wasn’t going to hide any part of himself. He’d done that dance before, and he didn’t care to relive it any time soon.

Finn smiled, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Well, thanks. It hasn’t always been the easiest, but we’re happy.”

Leo resolutely ignored the strange pang in his chest at those words. It wasn’t fair of him to be jealous. “I’m glad.” He glanced around and noticed the progress the crew had made. “I should probably go. We’ve still got a lot to do before we head out.”

“Do you guys need any help?”

Leo couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Seeing that you made most of this mess, maybe we should have you clean up,” he teased Finn, who pouted. “But no, we’re fine. Thanks for the offer, though. Y’all have a good night.”

“You too!” Logan called over his shoulder. He leaned over to whisper something to Finn, who threw his head back and laughed.

Leo turned away and started wiping down the nearest counter.

***

Post-Episode Interview

Leo: *gives the camera a pained look* Is cooking really this hard for people? I want to get out there and help them so badly, but I can’t. We’re supposed to just observe for this challenge.

The video switches from Leo talking to footage from the earlier challenge: Leo grimacing and taking an aborted step towards a recruit getting his face way too close to the fire. Leo looking on in horror as another recruit wields a knife incorrectly and nearly loses a finger. Dorcas laughing as a recruit tries to grab her potatoes out of a pot of hot water with her bare hands while Leo reaches out and grabs onto the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip. “Oh god, this isn’t safe at all.” Dorcas ruffles his hair, standing on her tiptoes to do so. “Poor rookie. You get used to it.”

*Back to Leo in the interview room, pinching the bridge of his nose*

Leo: My hair will be completely gray by the end of this show.

[rainoverthemountains]

Siren Cash Story

Here’s a chapter of that Atypical siren Cash story (universe and characters belong to @itsladykit ) I was talking about earlier. I still can’t decide how I feel about it, or how anyone else will feel about it, but here it is. I’m posting it directly to tumblr because I have even less idea what to say about it on Ao3 than I usually do with new stories. Reader response will have a very strong influence on whether this one goes anywhere, because I like it, but I’m not entirely sure about sharing it with other people.

Summary-ish thing: Sex happens, problems happen, three supernatural beings are confused by each other’s views of babies, and Pup worries.

Smiling, Pup snuggles up against Cash. The siren has been unusually clingy tonight, going so far as to drag Pup off with him to Pup’s bed instead of returning to his pool or staying with the others, much to Rus’s consternation. Edge and Twist must have successfully distracted Rus, because Pup has now spent hours happily wrapped in the embrace of a very affectionate siren without any suspicious sex demons breaking in to separate them.

Cash’s bones line up so nicely with Pup’s, as does the powerful tail wrapped around them both. At Cash’s insistence, Pup’s clothes and Cash’s wrap are both long since discarded in a pile on the floor. They haven’t done anything except snuggle, but it’s been some very insistent snuggling, with Cash pulling Pup over to lay mostly on top of him quite a while ago and not moving since then. As nice as the snuggling is, Pup wouldn’t mind taking things a little further – and judging by whatever just popped into existence between Cash’s legs, he wouldn’t mind, either.

“wanna do something with that?” Pup teases, brushing his leg against it. Cash gasps, pushing hard into the pressure – with something that doesn’t feel much like one of the usual two options. Pup smiles. It’s not often Cash wants to play like that.

“what have you got down there?” The siren grabs his hand and pulls it down for a personal inspection of what’s clearly his rarely-seen cloaca. Pup laughs. “okay, okay, i get it, enough talking. i take it you’ve got some better ideas?”

Cash does have some better ideas, and so does Pup. A tentative brush of a finger against the opening has Cash gasping. A finger inside earns Pup a voiceless screech. “is this okay?” Cash has never reacted quite like this before, especially not to using his cloaca. He and Twist both say they’re just not usually that sensitive, which is why they never use them. But Cash is going insane, pressing Pup’s finger in as far as it will go. “cash?”

‘more,’ Cash manages to sign, before crushing Pup against his ribcage.

“more?” Pup asks, wanting to be sure he’s picking up on the right cues. On the one hand, it seems pretty obvious, but this is all moving really fast, and getting Cash this worked up usually takes more effort – and why the sudden desire to use his cloaca? Since learning how cocks work, Cash has gotten quite fond of using his own.

Cash grabbing Pup’s pubic symphysis provides some pretty clear clarification. Well, no need to ask Pup twice. Getting hard takes no time at all with Cash writhing against him, and if he had any more doubts about where this is going, Cash wipes them out pretty quickly by grabbing Pup’s cock and shoving it inside him.

That one takes a minute to get over. Cash is still silently keening when Pup comes back around from suddenly having his cock shoved inside a tight, warm opening. Thinking Cash might need a minute to get control of himself, Pup freezes, but Cash has other plans. The feeling of his pelvis being lifted up a few inches and dropped back down into Cash’s opening is more than a little stunning, but it gets the message across, so Pup starts to move. He probably should spare a few thoughts for what in the world is going on with Cash, but, well… their current activities are a little bit distracting.

They keep going for quite a while. Pup comes easily the first time, and a few times after that – Cash in this state is possibly the hottest thing he’s ever seen, so it isn’t exactly a challenge – but eventually he gets tired. Stopping is starting to sound really good right about now, but Cash still hasn’t finished. “cash?” But Cash just wraps his arms tighter around Pup’s back, thrusting as much as he can from below.

Pup keeps it up for one more round, but then he’s done. He’s really done. “cash? i’ve gotta take a break.” Cash just grinds against him, not even acknowledging that he’s heard him.

“cash. hey, cash! listen. i want to stop now.” But Cash just clings tighter, resuming the thrusting motion between them. What the hell? Cash wouldn’t keep trying to fuck after Pup wanted to stop. That’s not something he’d do. “cash!” Pup snaps, trying to wiggle away from the arms surrounding him. “i’m done. let go.” Cash just clings tighter. “let me go! this doesn’t feel good anymore. i’m done!” Cash hisses when Pup tries to get away from him. What the fuck is happening?

“There a problem in here?” Twist’s very welcome voice comes from the door. Cash turns and hisses at him, too, but that just earns a growl from Twist. “Nuh uh. None’a that, sweetheart. I c’n see yer in heat an’ stoppin’ feels awful, but ya can’t be actin’ like that. Lookit Pup. Yer scarin’ him.”

Cash does look at Pup, frowning in confusion… then his socket widens in horror and he scrambles out from under him, nearly sending Pup off the side of the bed. Too surprised to catch himself, Pup almost hits the floor, but fortunately Twist is close enough to save him from a very undignified landing. More undignified that he already is, that is. Nothing like being thrown off one of your boyfriends in the middle of sex and then caught by another one to really make a guy feel like he’s got his life together.

“thanks.”

Twist scoops Pup up and sits them both on the bed. “No problem, sweetheart. You doin’ alright?”

Talking doesn’t want to work too well yet, so Pup switches to sign. ‘yeah, i’m okay. we were having fun; he just wouldn’t stop. what’s going on?’

They both look at Cash, who has curled himself up into the tiniest possible ball in the farthest corner of the room. Twist’s stern look melts into one of sympathy. “Heat – or I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. Smells diff’rent in diff’rent species, but it sure smells like somethin’ in here, and he’s actin’ like he’s in heat. Ain’tcha, sweetheart?”

Cash whimpers, not much more than a tight rush of air from him, but they both know how to recognize his voiceless sounds by now. His cloaca is still manifested, the glow faintly visible through the tangle of bones and protective tail. He looks utterly miserable.

“cash?” Pup asks, finding his voice working better than a minute ago, which is good, because it’s hard to sign to someone with their face buried in their knees.

Cash just signs, “sorry” and curls into a tighter ball.

“it’s okay,” Pup tries, not really sure what to do, “i don’t think you meant to do it, and i’m not hurt. is twist right? are you in heat?”

Cash nods, not saying anything else. Twist doesn’t ask anything else, either, like they both think that’s that, but Pup thinks he’s entitled to a little more information after what just happened. “i really don’t know anything about heat. can you tell me about it?”

Cash raises his hands as if to sign, looks at them, then lowers them again, shrugging, which probably means he doesn’t know the words, or maybe that he can’t think well enough to put them together right now. Pup understands; he’s not terribly inclined to keep putting words together, either, and he’s not restricted to a language that he’s still trying to learn.

Possibly realizing that he hasn’t been terribly informative, Twist tries to fill in what he can. “Dunno much about sirens, but if they’re anything like dragons, he really needs ta get off right now.”

Pup arches a browbone. “tried that.”

Twist snorts. “Yeah, guess ya did. Problem is, I’m not sure he can with you.”

Pup’s browbone arches higher. “always could before.”

Twist waves off his skepticism. “Yeah, but heat’s different – at least if sirens ‘re like dragons. Hey, Cash, are sirens like dragons?”

‘give or take some brains and too big wings,’ Cash manages to sign, because of course he remembers how to insult Twist when he can’t think of the words for anything else.

“Yep, ‘cause yer skull’s just full a those,” Twist chuckles. “But what I mean is, are our heats the same? Do ya need another siren fer yours?”

Cash nods.

“Is that like need need, or does it just make it go better?” ‘need,’ Cash signs. ‘eggs.’ He waves at his lower abdomen.

Pup gasps. “eggs? as in, you could get pregnant?”

Cash shrugs.

Woah. That’s as good as a yes. Not that monsters of either gender doing that is unheard of, but Cash? He doesn’t seem like the parenting type. He’s also not acting like this is anything new. “have you had… eggs? before?”

Cash nods, looking surprisingly uninvested in that answer, considering what it is.

“wait, does that mean you have kids out there somewhere?”

Cash shrugs. He doesn’t know if he has kids?

“how do you not know?” Pup asks. Maybe that’s not the most sensitive way to ask it, but Cash has kids? And Cash doesn’t know if he has kids? What? ‘why would i?’ Cash signs.

“because… don’t people usually know that? i mean, i guess not everyone, but i’d think the person who… laid the eggs? would usually know.” Maybe Pup should shut up now. For all he knows, he’s walking right into a very sensitive topic, but Cash sure isn’t acting like he is. Pup might as well be asking how Rus ties his shoelaces, for all Cash seems to care.

“Pretty sure sirens ‘re more like fish than humans, far as havin’ kids goes,” Twist explains, patting the bed to try to invite Cash to come join them. Cash doesn’t budge, so Twist shrugs. “Just lay their eggs somewhere an’ leave ‘em. That right, Cash?”

Cash nods. ‘humans… keep them?” He only looks halfway sure of that.

“Yep, all the way till they’re grown, usually. Dragons, too, fer a while.” Twist’s face darkens for a moment, but he shakes it off. “Anyway, are ya sayin’ ya gotta get someone ta fertalize yer eggs ta get outta heat?”

‘don’t dragons?’ Cash asks, perplexed.

Twist shrugs. “Eh, kinda. Might hafta do it with another dragon, but I never tried with nobody else, neither, an’ I ain’t gonna start now. But nah, don’t gotta let any eggs catch unless I want to.”

Cash frowns, looking very confused – possibly for different reasons than Pup, who is also very confused. ‘why would you want to?’

“Some people just do. Lotsa reasons, I guess, but it’s never seemed like a good idea fer me, so I don’t.”

“wait,” Pup asks in dawning horror, “are you saying that you have to… lay eggs? get pregnant? something like that? when you go into heat, even though you don’t want to?”

Cash nods, not looking any more upset than he has since accepting that he didn’t hurt Pup. Pup, though, is devastated. “but that’s awful!”

Cash frowns in continuing confusion. ‘why?’ he signs.

“because…” the words close off in Pup’s throat. He looks to Twist, hoping the dragon will understand.

“I think Puppy’s upset ‘cause fer humans, bein’ pregnant when ya don’ wanna’s a big deal. ‘s a bad thing. Right, Puppy?”

Pup nods.

Cash still doesn’t look any less confused, though. ‘why?’

“Because… I dunno. Just is?” Which is about what Pup should expect, really, relying on a dragon to explain human problems to a siren. Does Twist even understand the problem, himself, or does he just understand that Pup’s worried? If neither of them see a reason to be upset, should Pup be, either? But neither of them want kids, and Twist can avoid it but Cash can’t, so how can they not see that as a problem?

“do you… not care if you have kids?” Pup tries.

Cash shakes his skull, looking relieved to finally be understood.

“you really don’t care? not as in, you’ll put up with it because you can’t do anything about it, but as in you really don’t care at all?”

Cash shrugs. ‘just happens. doesn’t matter.’

“okay.” What else can Pup say? It seems inconceivable that having kids could just be such a non-event in someone’s life that they just don’t care – but then, they said it was like with fish. Do fish care about laying eggs? Probably not much. But Cash isn’t a fish! But he said he doesn’t care, and it’s not like Pup knows what Cash thinks better than Cash does, so… grrr. Sometimes figuring these guys out is a lost cause. “so what do we need to do now?”

Cash huffs in annoyance, signs sharp. ‘i find a siren. get fucked. come home.’ He shifts uncomfortably.

“Yeah, an’ from what I walked in on, I’d you’d better find one pretty soon.” Twist scowls. “Shit, sweetheart, what’d you think you were doin’, gettin’ Pup ta fuck ya while yer in heat? You got any idea all the ways that coulda gone wrong?”

Cash looks away in shame, curling back up into the defensive ball that he’d just started to come out of.

“hey, no, it’s okay, nothing happened! i’m fine!” Pup rushes to reassure him, giving Twist a sideways glare that the dragon ignores. Way to go, Twist, going all overprotective dragon when Cash already feels like shit.

“Sure, darlin’, and I’m glad, but ya might not ‘a been. There’s a reason ya don’ ever see me around here when I’m in heat. It fucks with yer mind, and with a whole lotta insticts taking over, too, so ya can’t really count on remembrin’ who yer with or what ya can and can’t do with ‘em. Now, maybe sirens don’ get as rough when they fuck as dragons do, but I doubt it, and he still wasn’t lettin’ ya go, even if he didn’t mean no harm.”

“that’s not his fault,” Pup insists. “you just said heat fucks with your mind.”

“Yeah, which is why ya don’ let yerself end up in that position in the first place. How the hell’d that even happen?” Twist asks them both.

‘i-’ Cash starts, fumbling for the signs, before curling up with a whimper. ‘sorry’, he signs again, not even looking at Pup.

“hey.” Pup climbs off of Twist’s lap, ignoring Twist’s protests as he makes his way across the room to crouch down in front of Cash. “it’s okay.”

Cash shakes his skull.

“it is. look, i knew you weren’t acting right. i could have stopped us, too, but i didn’t, because…” Pup blushes, but makes himself keep going. Cash doesn’t need to carry around this much guilt. “because you were really, really hot like that.”

Twist snorts, crouching down beside them. “Bet he was. Wouldn’t mind seein’ it myself, but Cash, we really gotta getcha to the ocean. You ‘n Pup wanna try somethin’ some other time when yer in heat, we c’n probly work that out – I’d feel a whole lot better about if ya did it together with someone who’d have a easier time stoppin’ ya if ya got carried away. But Pup looks pretty worn out, an’ I c’n see yer havin’ ta work pretty hard ta hold yerself t’gether, so how ‘bout fer now I jus’ give you a ride ta the ocean?.”

Cash sighs. At least he doesn’t look quite so freaked out anymore. ‘let’s get it over with.’

“Great! Let’s head out. Know when you’ll wanna be picked back up?”

Cash shrugs. ‘a few days.’

“I’ll just fly over the place I leave ya a few times a day, then. Wouldn’t wanna miss ya. How ‘bout that rock we used ta like?”

Cash shrugs again, a faint shiver starting with the movement. Heat related? No one seems concerned, so probably. He doesn’t look entirely with it, either. Pup sure doesn’t want to send him out into the open ocean like that, but what’s he going to do, go find Cash another siren and bring him here?

“Hey, yer voice won’ be a problem, will it?” Twist asks.

Cash shakes his skull.

“i guess i’ll see you in a few days, then” Pup says, trying to stay upbeat. Cash leans over and taps him with a surprisingly sweet kiss, then climbs to his feet and walks out of the room.

Twist rises to follow Cash. “Forgot his wrap, but I guess he won’t need it fer too long, anyway.”

“will you look out for him?” Pup asks. The whole thing still seems really wrong to him, but it’s not like he worries when Twist goes into heat. Of course, Twist has his dragon friend, and the only way there would be any eggs involved is if Twist wanted there to be, and Pup knows perfectly well that there are things in the ocean that can hurt Cash, especially when he’s not at his best… so he worries.

Twist, though, just smiles reassuringly. “Course, darlin’, but he won’t need much lookin’ after. Heat ain’t a bad thing, ya just gotta know what yer doin’ with it. I’ll have our grumpy siren back home in no time, good as new.”

[legumelupin]

Cake Week!

here it is! the first chapter of this story that i love so much but is ruining my life! and here it is on ao3! it’s over 11k so please enjoy

WEEK 1 — CAKE

“It’s the moment every dessert lover, every pastry lover, really any kind of bake lover has been waiting for. The tent is staked and there are 12 new bright-eyed and bushy-tailed amateur bakers ready to battle it out. These bakers are some of the finest in the United Kingdom and were hand-selected out of thousands of applicants. 

“They practiced for months and months to perfect new and old skills to take on a new set of challenges. Original signatures, grueling technicals, and spectacular showstoppers that are all made to push the baker's creativity and determination to the edge. Who will come out victorious? And who will collapse under a soggy bottom? 

“This season, the bakers will be judged by none other than the lovely baking queen of Scotland, Minerva McGonagall. She’s hard to impress and incredibly blunt but boy does she make spectacular ginger biscuits. Her co-judge is the man who looks great for his age and who’s palate ranges from lemon sherbert to cockroach cookies. That’s right, it’s the ever-serene Albus Dumbledore. But the bakers had better watch out, our dear Dumbly isn’t afraid to shatter hopes and dreams. And as always, this season will be hosted by myself, Horace “Sluggy” Slughorn, and the large and in charge, Rubeus Hagrid.

“For their first week, our brand new bakers will have to overcome the woes of cake week. That means avoiding dry sponges, merengues that aren’t whipped properly, and batter that is over’werked’ as our dear Minerva would say.

“Welcome to Season 7 of the Great British Bake Off!”

~

Remus tied the apron around his waist, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he was still processing where exactly he was. He was in The Tent! The people in charge of the Great British Bake Off chose his application as one of the ones to be a part of the next season. Him! Remus John Lupin! What the fuck? What were they thinking? What was he thinking? He had let his mother convince him into applying, citing his bread and his knack for precision as qualities that could help him. He just never thought he would be here, ever. But he was! 

He took a look around, noting all the cameras and feeling his stomach start to twist itself into a knot a bit. Oh gods, what in the world was he thinking? He’d be on TV and chances are he’d make a fool of himself for everyone to see! He thought of the day the camera crew had shown up to his family’s small cottage just outside of Cardiff. He had been maybe even more nervous then than he was now considering how intimate the whole ordeal was. They just followed him around for a few hours and had him hang in the kitchen with his mother while his father sat at the counter reading the paper. They followed him to his job at a bookshop just inside of town and he talked about his dream to go to university to study literature. If he didn’t think too hard about it, being in The Tent didn’t seem so bad anymore. 

And then one of the Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore walked in. Gods, he wished he packed a joint in his bag for after. Or even his pack of cigs. He was going to need it afterward judging by how hard his legs were shaking. He looked to the workstation across from him and found a woman with long, red hair and he remembered her vaguely from the little mingling session the producers of the show hosted for contestants the day before. Remus did his best to socialize but he mostly kept to himself, thinking about the book that was waiting for him on his train ride home. But looking at her now, she was hard not to remember with hair like that and green eyes that pierce him even from the distance he’s at. 

She caught his eye and offered him a kind smile that he returned easily, feeling a bit better. He could see the worry lines etched on the side of her mouth. Honestly, Remus should have been paying more attention to the competition if he wanted to win but he’d been so inside his head that he didn’t even remember any of their names let alone what they looked like. All he remembered from the night before was the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore and the raucous laughter of Rubeus Hagrid. He was so shell-shocked that all he could do was tell himself not to panic and have a drink with a few of the other contestants that he didn’t remember the names of. 

But now, here he was, smiling at the girl with flaming red hair, waiting for the camera crew to give the cue for them to start. They’d gotten the opening shots with all the new bakers lined up outside the tent and all of them walking into the tent for the first time. Remus was almost positive that his gaze was downcast the entire time. It was almost like he was asking to leave on the first episode but in reality, he did really want to win. He was terrified and an anxious disaster. But he was a terrified and anxious disaster with a passion to win.

“Psst, hey!” a voice whispered behind him and Remus raised an eyebrow, turning his head to find the most gorgeous man his bisexual eyes have ever seen. Remus suppresses a groan. Why did Gorgeous-Man have to get his attention before the first task? As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough before, all Remus would be able to think about now were those stormy grey eyes and long, very soft-looking black hair. He would definitely overbake his sponge. 

~

Sirius Black was very nervous. He was incredibly proud of himself for making it onto the show but he was also still in disbelief. Even when he was standing at his workstation for their first bake of cake week, he didn’t believe he was actually going to be on his favorite TV show. The night before hadn’t done anything to soothe his nerves or let him know that this was actually real but he did meet a really wonderful bloke by the name of James Potter who was also a contestant on the show. They hit off on their first interaction and hit the pub right after the little event had ended. Sirius felt he’d made a friend forever in the guy.

“Hey man, this is crazy right?” a brown-skinned guy with unruly black hair and kind, hazel eyes said, gesturing to the large white tent that was just down the hill from the little area of the grounds the newest contestants were all gathered in. He looked to be around Sirius’s age. “Never thought I’d be here but I guess they liked my application enough even though I made a complete fool of myself,” the guy snorted and Sirius raised an eyebrow. 

“I suppose they just wanted a village fool and they thought you’d do the best job,” Sirius snarked and the guy looked affronted but to the point of mocking him.

“You say that as if it isn’t a high honor, young sir!” the man proclaimed and Sirius cracked a grin. 

“I have to say, kind fellow, I’m going to put up a hell of a fight to be crowned the title of fool before you,” Sirius jested back and the guy laughed heartily. 

“I’m James Potter,” he extended his hand and Sirius took it in his own. 

“Sirius,” the pale male answered and James quirked an eyebrow but didn’t let go of his hand. 

“Course I’m serious, why would I lie about my name?” James asked and Sirius snorted.

“No, I’m Sirius,” he replied and James just leveled him with a small glare. 

“About what, mate? You haven’t even said anything,” James shot back and Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“No, you oaf. My fucking name is Sirius,” he laughed and James’s face fell for a second before it broke out into a large grin. 

“That’s right funny, Sirius. You can make a lot of jokes with that,” James smiled and Sirius laughed. 

“Just did, mate,” Sirius remarked and James didn’t stop grinning. 

“Wanna grab a pint after this?” James asked and Sirius knew. He just knew. This guy was gonna be his best friend after this night. 

“Sounds like a plan to me. I’d get out of here right now if it weren’t the set of fucking Bake Off,” Sirius murmured and James grinned at him again. 

“Is someone nervous?”

“As if you aren’t. Or I suppose you’re too daft to feel nervous.”

“Oi! Now that’s just rude!”

“You didn’t even understand when I introduced myself!”

“Your name is fucking Sirius! Pardon me for not knowing very many people named after celestial bodies!”

“Well, you’re pardoned! Happy?”

“Incredibly, good sir!”

They hit the pub together after the party as promised and got properly shitfaced and Sirius was sure that he would want to remember that night forever. Bake Off was already getting his mind off his shit life but this bloke, this James Potter, seemed to be a forever friend. 

James was sat at the station on Sirius’s right and they kept glancing at each other. Both would be lying if they said they weren’t nursing a bit of a hangover which is not ideal considering it was their first day on the set of a baking TV show that would be broadcasted all over England. James pointed to the woman who sat in front of him and made a face at Sirius that indicated that he was absolutely smitten with this woman. He’d never even talked to her. Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head. James glared at him and stuck out his tongue, and then feigned absolute hurt when Sirius didn’t change the look on his face.

Sirius could only roll his eyes again but with a smile this time. He turned his attention to the guy sitting in front of him who was wearing a sweater that was definitely not appropriate for this fucking disgusting weather. Sirius knew it wasn’t his place to say shit to the guy but holy fucking hell it was as hot as Satan’s balls out! So, like a typical Black (and he was well aware of his cousin’s presence in the tent which was kind of crazy but he tried not to think too hard about it), he said something. 

“Psst, hey!” he whispered loudly and thankfully, the guy heard him and turned around briefly. Sirius’s gay panic went haywire at that moment. He forgot about the sweater all at once and was stuck between a sea of honey brown and a forest of glorious summer green and freckled cheeks with a couple of faint scars running across a beautiful nose. He had fucking freckles and heterochromia. Oh gods, he was toast. Pun intended. 

“Yeah?” the guy asked, his voice sounded strained. How had Sirius not seen him last night? Or this morning? Was he seriously so far up James’s ass and happy to have a friend that he didn’t even notice this hot string bean amongst the ten other contestants? Yes, yes he was. But that wasn’t an excuse!

“Oh, um, I was just… Mate, how the hell are you wearing that thing right now?” Sirius asked incredulously and the man’s face fell to be quickly unimpressed. 

“I've been cold on the inside since I’ve been ten,” he deadpanned and Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “Basically I’m depressed,” he continued after before making to turn back front. 

“Wait, you’re not even gonna tell me your name Mr. I- Wear -a -Sweater -in -the -Dead -of -Summer?” Sirius quipped and the guy actually managed a smile. Sirius groaned internally. No one should be allowed to look that hot!! And he was just fucking smiling!! At this rate, Sirius couldn’t even bring himself to think about fucking cake (unless it was this guy’s cake, if you know what he’s saying. Wink wink).

“Remus Lupin. Care to tell me yours? Mr. I-Have-No-Manners-and-Can’t-Recognized-a-Depressed-Bastard?” the guy snarked back, not losing the amused look on his beautiful face.

Sirius barked out a laugh causing the other contestants to look over to them and Sirius feared of being shushed so he quickly said, “Sirius Black.”

Remus nodded at him, a small smile still piquing on his lips before turning back around. And finally, the set fucking called for action. Now, what was the cake he’d been practicing for weeks?

~

Marlene McKinnon was an absolute ball of nerves and it was obvious to everyone around them, too. They couldn’t sit still. One minute they were bouncing their leg up and down, another they were wringing their hands, another their fingers were twisting around their long chestnut brown ponytail, and another minute they were braiding that ponytail. But before they knew it, Sluggy and Hagrid were welcoming all of them to Cake Week and giving the prompt, which they already knew, before the legendary send-off:

“On your marks,” said Hagrid.

“Get set!” Sluggy cheered.

“BAKE!” they both rang out together and it was like Marlene blacked out. 

Their adrenaline took over and they raced around her work station, grabbing sugar, eggs, and flour for their orange zest angel food cake. Their workstation was one of the first two from the tent’s entrance which they were honestly thankful for because that meant the judging and hosting teams came to them first. And they wanted as little distractions as possible. 

“Marlene, what kind of angel food cake are you making for us today?” Sluggy asked, peering around her workstation. They looked up and saw the calculating gaze of Albus Dumbledore on their batter in the mixer and the stern eyes of Minerva McGonagall boring into their own. Their knees wobbled and they fought to keep themself upright. Minerva was an inspiration for them and now the woman was going to be judging their bakes. 

“Oh, um.. I’m going to be making an orange zest angel food cake with chocolate glaze and fresh whipped cream,” they said while trying to keep their voice from shaking. 

“Sounds quite lovely,” Albus said serenely. 

“Yes, I expect a strong orange flavor in your cake,” Minerva insisted curtly but with a small peak of a smile. 

“Of course! I hope it comes through,” Marlene smiled and they knew that this was where her little introduction would be placed in post-production of the show. The production crew followed them around Cambridge and talked about how they worked as a physician's assistant for a nephrologist and lived with their two cats. 

 They were quite happy with their life at the moment, they kept up with their family who didn’t live that far away and their job was fulfilling. But they were a hopeless romantic and were on the lookout for a lovely lady to woo or for one to woo them. 

They glanced around their station once the judges and hosts moved on and caught the eye of a dark-skinned girl named Dorcas Meadowes that they met yesterday along with a red-head named Lily Evans and another woman with mousy brown hair named Alice. Dorcas gave them a small smile before turning back to her own bake and Marlene felt their cheeks heat up a bit and really hoped no cameras were pointed at them. 

The bakers had two hours for the first bake of the season and Marlene thought everything was going well. Their egg whites whipped up well, they zested many oranges, everything seemed to be going alright. They couldn’t say the same for the man across from them. He had long blond hair and a permanent sneer on his face that said he thought he was better than everyone. Marlene remembered him from the night before and rolled their eyes then just like they were rolling them now. 

He fucked up his egg whites it seemed like and was obviously disgruntled as the camera crew moved to his station for what kind of angel cake he was making. Marlene marked him as a weak link in their head but they didn’t dwell on it too long as their egg whites weren’t yet stiff peaks. They kept beating them. 

Marlene was a whirlwind of movements for the next hour and a half until Hagrid announced they all had a half-hour left and they felt absolutely overwhelmed despite actually being in a pretty good place in their bake. Their sponge was cooling and it looked well-baked but not over baked, their chocolate glaze was almost ready and all they had left was their whipped cream and to slice some oranges as a garnish. 

“Looks like he broke your focus,” the woman behind Marlene’s station smirked but not unkindly. 

“Oh, uh yeah,” Marlene answered with a breathy laugh. 

“Sorry if that was weird, you’re just in front of me and you’ve been in the zone the entire time. It’s admirable, I hope it’s all going well for you,” the woman smiled sweetly and Marlene smiled back at her. They noticed all around the tent, bakers were conserving and bantering with each other and they hadn’t said a word since the very beginning. 

“No, it’s not weird and thank you. I hope it’s going well for you too, this is all so scary,” Marlene answered and the woman smiled at them more. She didn’t seem too much older but she was definitely on the older side of the contestants. Almost everyone else looked to be Marlene’s age. 

“Yeah but think about it, if you didn’t deserve to be here, you wouldn’t be,” she reminded Marlene and the person nodded. “I’m Andromeda, by the way. It’s nice to meet you and hopefully, there’ll be a friendly face around here over the next few weeks, assuming I make it through,” she said softly and Marlene nodded again.

“I’m Marlene, it’s good to meet you too,” they answered before turning back to their bake, making sure their chocolate glaze wasn’t burning or anything. 

There was a minute left before they could even realize and their cake was glazed, their whipped cream was cold and sitting like a cloud atop the cake, and they were just finishing slicing their oranges. They chanced a glance up and around and saw the blond man across from them struggling. His sponge looked overdone and his lemon glazed looked too runny. They could only hope that the orange was strong enough in their cake to compete with their chocolate glaze and cut through it. 

“Bakers, time is up! Please step away from your bakes and move your Angel Food cakes to the end of your table!” Sluggy called out to the group and almost simultaneously, everyone out down what they were doing and stepped back. Marlene was satisfied with how their cake looked, they really only wanted it to taste good now. They took a look around at everyone else’s.

~

Sirius had dried batter on his face and his usually pristine hair was rather disheveled but his angel food cake looked delicious, at least in his eyes. It was a vanilla sponge with a sweet cranberry sauce running down the sides with strawberries on top. He looked forward at Mr. Remus Lupin’s cake and groaned. His looked fucking delicious and it looked like he made a chocolate angel cake sponge? The fucking drama of this guy! He looked over at James who looked very proud of his key lime pie inspired back and he had to admit it was impressive. 

“We got this in the bag,” the man whispered-shouted across the way, his arms crossed proudly over his chest. The girl in front of him who he was gaping at two hours ago turned and gave him a slightly disgusted look and he noticed and grinned at her. “Like what you see?”

“Aha, you wish,” she sneered and Sirius decided she wasn’t his favorite person. What was her deal? Sure James was a little cocky but so what? 

“Oh come on, Red. You don’t think my sponge looks good?” he asked with an easy grin and the girl rolled her eyes before facing forward. Judging was starting. 

~

Remus’s internal panic alarms were ablaze. He was proud of his bake for sure but it wasn’t up to his usual standard in his opinion. There was a good chance the sponge was dry on his vanilla one and his chocolate one had a very good chance of being underbaked. His pastry cream was set well enough but he was nervous all the same. All he could hope for was that it tasted better than how he imagined it did. 

He watched Albus and Minerva make the rounds with Hagrid by their side from behind him. They were tasting a greasy-haired guy’s cake and they seemed kind of meh with it like it didn’t do anything special for them and from what he could tell, it was just a normal sponge with some powdered sugar and strawberries on top.

“I’d like to see more,” Minerva said, a tone of disappointment in her voice. The guy just gritted his teeth and nodded shortly before turning to look forward. 

The judges moved onto the guy in front of the one they just judged who’d been talking to Sirius just a minute ago. He looked very proud and boastful of his bake and with good reason it seemed as the judges loved it and the guy who was judged first seethed very visibly, glaring daggers at the back of Sirius’s friend’s head. But Remus’s view was obscured when the judges crossed over to Sirius’s station. He could hear everything they were saying. 

“Right, Sirius my boy, this is vanilla angel food cake with cranberry sauce, right?” Albus asked and Sirius nodded while chewing his lip. He was fucking hot when he chewed his lip. Gods, Remus was so fucking bent for this guy and he had one conversation with him if it could’ve even been counted as a conversation. And he was a dick during the whole thing! How could he be a dick to the one attractive guy who’s talked to him in months? Remus held back a sigh as Minerva and Albus tasted Sirius’s cake. 

“Hm, that is scrummy. The cranberry is sharp and tart which is an excellent contrast to the sweetness of your sponge,” Minerva attested and Sirius’s face broke out into a smile. It was radiant and Remus never wanted him to stop. 

“Yes this is delicious, thank you,” Albus commented, giving a slow nod to Sirius. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, the smile never melting off his face. 

As Minerva and Dumbledore moved onto the person behind Sirius with Hagrid, Remus caught Sirius’s attention. “Nice one! Looks great,” he smiled and if it were possible, Sirius’s smile grew even bigger. Remus’s heart clenched because he made that happen. 

“Thanks, mate! Yours looks really good, a chocolate angel food cake is impressive,” Sirius whispered back and Remus flashed him a smile this time. 

“Thanks!” 

Remus faced forward again and waited for the judges to come to his station with a large amount of anxiety that grew with every second. He resisted the urge to bite his fingernails to shreds as he knew the cameras were still around and taking shots of people other than those who had the judges at their table. But Remus needn’t wait very long as the next person they came to was him. He sat up straighter when Hagrid addressed him. 

“Remus, what have you made fer the judges t’day?” he asked and Remus swallowed loudly. 

“Uh, it’s alternating chocolate and vanilla angel food cake with pastry cream in between the layers, topped with fresh whipped cream,” he said quickly but his voice didn’t waver thankfully. He was a mess. 

“It looks very neat and your pastry cream seems to have set very nicely. Quite ambitious for the first bake of the season, let’s just hope you pulled it off,” Minerva remarked but there was a shine in her eyes. 

“Yes, I hope I did too,” he said softly as they cut into his sponges and took a piece onto the plate set in front. 

“The vanilla sponge looks well baked,” Albus commented, tapping his fork lightly over it. “But I fear you may have misjudged the timing for your chocolate sponge, it appears a bit underdone,” he remarked and Remus nodded. He figured. “Best to try it.”

The two judges put a piece of his cake into their mouths and looked thoughtful for a moment. “These flavors are wonderful. And it’s quite a feat that you got your chocolate sponge to rise and still have such a profound flavor. The pastry cream is a nice texture too,” Minerva commented and Remus smiled at her. 

“Yes, this is very good indeed however your chocolate sponge is underbaked,” Albus continued and Remus nodded. 

“Right, sorry about that,” he murmured. 

“This is a very fine cake you have, Remus,” Albus finished and Remus tipped his head in thanks. 

“I’ll jus’ be taking a piece o’ that,” Hagrid said sneakily, taking a piece of chocolate sponge with him and Remus snickered, gesturing for him to take as much as he pleased. 

“Oi, mate, that’s amazing!” Sirius whispered from behind him and Remus turned to face him, both of them wearing dazed and happy smiles. Honestly, it went better than Remus had expected it to go for their first bake and he felt ready for the technical, though he didn’t want to be too cocky just yet. 

~ 

When the judges got around to that bloke Lucius, the one across from Marlene, they couldn’t help but roll their eyes despite the large number of nerves setting their entire body on fire. Oh gods, they were the last to be judged and from what they were hearing, the majority of the others had done really well. The bar was too high!! Too high!! Marlene wished they were high right about now but instead they had to listen to Minerva and Albus be disappointed with the blond git’s bake. At least that was something positive for them. They had heard high praises for Lily and Dorcas’ bakes and they really enjoyed Alice’s flavors. Marlene thought for a second that Andromeda was going to get a Minerva McGonagall handshake and here they were with just a plain old orange-flavored sponge and some chocolate sauce. 

They barely even registered when Hagrid addressed them due to never-ending nerves but stood up straight once they realized, watching Minerva and Albus inspect their sponge. 

“Looks to be a very good bake and the chocolate has a beautiful shine to it,” Albus remarked and Marlene smiled a bit. 

“Yeah let’s just hope the orange came through,” Minerva replied before putting her fork in her mouth. “And it does,” she added immediately after. “Beautifully, too,” she continued and Marlene’s shoulders sagged in relief. 

“That’s a very lovely sponge you have there,” Albus praised and Marlene grinned at him. 

“Thank you,” they said quietly and the group moved away. 

There was a flurry of movements but they were told to leave the tent so they could prepare for the technical and so the camera crew could get a few testimonials from the contestants. They called out a few names of who they wanted. 

“Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Alice Fortesque,” one of the crew members shouted. “Everyone else, please exit the tent. You may wonder the grounds and enjoy something from the buffet but you are due back in a half-hour for the next bake!”

Marlene hurried out of the tent and into the fresh air, feeling as though they were able to breathe for the first time that morning. Gods, if that was what it was going to be like for the next ten weeks, they didn’t know if they could make it! That was one bake and they were already knackered! They would really need to pack a joint with them for their travels back home if that’s what it was going to be like.

“Hey, Marls! Where’re you headed?” a voice that she recognized as Dorcas shouted from a few meters away. They looked up and saw the dark-skinned girl with pale-skinned Lily by her side, both with wide smiles and welcoming hand gestures. 

“Nowhere in particular!” they called back as they headed to join them on their walk. 

They talked and gossiped about the first challenge. Lily ranted about the guy behind her, James Potter, being an absolute git who was too cocky for his own good. And while she did sound truly exasperated by this man, Marlene could also tell she fancied him even if it was just a bit. Lily didn’t seem like the type to appreciate being told this though so Marlene kept a tight-lip and settled for exchanging knowing glances with Dorcas who couldn’t hold back the smirk from her face. Gods, Marlene was absolutely smitten with that look and they couldn't even admit to themself. They wouldn’t be surprised if the word hypocrite was emboldened on their tanned forehead. 

~

Sirius was a bit bummed that Remus got called for a testimonial. Not that he wanted to give one or anything but he was hoping he could drag the guy along with him and James during their break. James was great company though, he always had something to say and it was usually hysterical. It’s only been 24 hours since meeting the guy but it felt like they’d been friends since secondary school, if not before. 

“Hey, mate, you there?” James’ voice filtered into Sirius’s thoughts and he snapped his head towards the man. 

“Huh?” he managed gracefully. 

“I said that bloke sitting in front of you seemed pretty cool,” James repeated, not letting on if he noticed Sirius blatantly ignoring him for a minute. 

“Oh, Remus?” Sirius perked up causing James’s eyebrows to raise by a fraction before shrugging. 

“I suppose if that’s his name,” he jabbed and Sirius laughed a laugh that sounded to be that of a bark. James quite enjoyed it and thought it fit Sirius’s persona perfectly. 

“It is. And yeah, he’s very cool. Talked with him for a bit before we started,” Sirius insisted and James quirked a smile. 

“Wanna grab a nightcap tonight? We can invite this Remus character as well,” James offered and Sirius’s eyes shone brightly. He couldn’t help it. Remus was cute. 

“Yeah, sure! Sounds great to me, honestly anything to stay away from home for the night is good for me,” Sirius grinned. 

“Well if that’s the case, then you’ll just have to get too drunk to go home Mr. Black, causing me to insist you stay the night at my place so I can be sure you don’t sick up in your mouth and choke on it,” James grinned and Sirius grinned back. They looked like a right pair of scoundrels right then even if they had no intention of getting drunk enough to even feel their cheeks grow warm. They had the blasted show-stopper tomorrow! They couldn’t make fools of themselves just because they had a pint too many!

“Is that a challenge Mr. Potter?” Sirius poked and James laughed.

“Is that how you see it?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I think you mean mayhaps,” James corrected and Sirius snorted. 

“You’re fucking weird, Potter. That something you learned in Godric’s Hollow, some posh lingo or whatever?” Sirius taunted playfully and James scoffed. 

“You’re one to talk about bloody posh, mate. Sirius Black, named after a fucking star and grew up in rich London. I look like a right plebeian standing next to you. I might as well get down on my knees and kiss your—“

“Alright, alright, you can shut it now.”

“Eh, didn’t go too far did I?”

“Absolutely not, you prick. I’m just annoyed you refuse to acknowledge your own poshness, even if it’s more eccentric and fucking loony.”

“I’m not loony.”

“You just told me to say mayhaps.”

“As a joke!”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

“You better watch your tongue, Sirius Black, I’m not afraid to tell on you to Minerva McGonagall! We’re close personal friends!” Sirius erupted into laughter and James followed suit. The break didn’t seem to last long enough. 

~ 

Remus stood back at his station rather disgruntled despite having gotten high remarks from the judges. But the attitudes of the two other guys chosen were just abysmal and Remus did not feed well off of negative energy. Thankfully, the girl Alice was an absolute sweetheart and he managed to occupy his waiting time talking with her and ignoring the two other assholes. However, when Alice went to give her shpiel on the first bake, he was left alone with Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, neither of which displayed any kindness. 

“That old bat doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Lucius had snarled. 

“Neither of them can appreciate true artistry,” Severus had implored and Remus rolled his eyes but his ears burned as the man continued, “Praising an underbaked chocolate sponge. How very soft. I suppose they feel bad with all those scars. Paints a very interesting picture.”

“Hmph, I have to agree. And with all the praise for that brown skin and that black girl,” Lucius had sneered. Remus could tolerate slander directed at him but he drew the line at any kind of racism. 

“Hey, you better shut the fuck up,” Remus snarled as he turned around. “To be quite honest I couldn’t give a damn about your bitterness towards the judging but don’t go blaming it on others and don’t you dare bring anyone’s race into this. They have just as much of a right as you or I do and the fact they’re better than you makes you feel inferior. Well, I got news for you mate. You are inferior. And if I ever hear you badmouthing anyone for their race, I will fucking slug you where you stand,” he bit out quietly and without wavering. “Fucking trash,” he gritted out, spitting at Lucius’s feet and glaring at Severus before turning back to ignore them.

The pair behind him continued their conversation much more quietly then and Remus failed to hear any of it but it wasn’t too much longer before Alice came back and Lucius left. She could sense his anger but didn’t ask him about, choosing instead to ask about what he did for a living. 

So there he stood, his arms tightly crossed over his chest, glaring daggers into the back of Lucius Malfoy’s head, waiting for the hosts and the judges to arrive, signaling the start of their first technical challenge. 

“Psst, Remus,”.said a voice behind him and he really thought about ignoring the guy just because he was in a foul mood. But he relented anyway because he had a feeling that Sirius wouldn’t stop calling out to him until he answered. He turned. 

“What?”

“Wanna grab a pint with me and James after we wrap up for the day?” he asked with a brilliant smile and expectant eyes. His heart melted a bit at the sight and he smiled softly. It took him a minute to register what the guy had asked him and then he felt his cheeks flush. He was asking him to hang out after? Him? Remus Lupin?

“James?” Remus asked without thinking or hesitating and Sirius pointed his thumb over to the guy at the station across the way. The man called James smiled a brilliant smile and waved enthusiastically. Remus snorted. 

“Sure,” he answered with an easy smile before turning back forward to hide his burning cheeks. He managed to catch a glimpse of Sirius’s own burning cheeks though and the thought made him warm inside. 

~

The technical was a disaster. At least it was for Sirius. He couldn’t be sure about anyone else but he was sure he fucked up his bake beyond repair. All his good graces from the signature challenge would go out the window because he would surely be crowned twelfth place and he would have to claw his way through the ashes during the showstopper just to stay in the competition past the first week. He was embarrassed and he was annoyed with himself for cracking under pressure. Surely he could’ve handled twelve miniature tres leches cakes, right? But no, not at all apparently! His whipped cream was running, his sponges well weak and didn’t hold well after being doused in milk and to top it off, he cut his finger when slicing the strawberries! No one was having a worse time than him, surely.

Except for maybe Marlene McKinnon who was almost in tears at how everything was turning out. How could it be that only an hour ago they were making perfect whipped cream and now it just wouldn’t stiffen? They were on their third attempt and there was only five minutes left in the challenge so if it didn’t work then, they would be serving naked, milky sponges and they absolutely loathed the sound of that. They beat their whipping cream and sugar harder. 

Remus Lupin felt oddly calm during the technical. His sponge came out well or so it appeared and he had no way of testing it, his milk concoction was mixed well and his whipped cream wasn’t grainy. All was well at station Remus and he was quite proud of himself although he doesn’t have the self-confidence to believe he’d place even in the top three. But he was still proud of himself. 

“Alright bakers, that’s the end of your first technical, if you could, please bring your tres leches up to the Gingham altar and place them behind your visage!” Sluggy proclaimed and everyone seemed to take a collective breath as they stepped back for the first time since starting. Thankfully, Remus had just finished setting his last strawberry atop his cakes and couldn’t help but be pleased as he brought up his platter to the front. He was seventh in the judging so he’d have to wait for Albus and Minerva to get to his bake but he didn’t seem to mind actually was a nice change of events from this morning. He began to fear that his lack of anxiety would be his downfall though and that he’d be taken by surprise and his tres leches would actually be terrible and his sponge would be cracked and dry. 

He sat in an odd mixture of fear and calm. But he was sat next to Sirius so that was nice. Sirius looked upset and Remus searched for his photo which was second from the start and frowned. They certainly weren’t the prettiest but they didn’t look awful and as long as they tasted good, he would be fine. 

“It’ll be alright, mate,” Remus whispered, trying to sound encouraging and Sirius just shrugged. Remus risked it. He took Sirius’s hand and held it. Yes, he was attracted to the man but also they were in this together. As much as Bake Off was a competition, they were still fighting the same battles and Remus would hate to see Sirius feel alone during this. Luckily, Sirius held on. 

“Right,” Minerva said, catching their attention and looking over the bakes with scrutiny. “Let’s see how they did, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the first bake which was behind the photo of a man Remus had never talked to. 

They seemed to enjoy it enough but remarked that the cakes weren’t milky enough and Remus had to stop from blanching at the term used. Milky. Ew. Gross. But they moved onto Sirius’s and the man held Remus’s hand tighter. 

“These look a little… disordered,” Albus said serenely. “But hopefully the flavor is good,” he continued as he and Minerva put a piece in their mouths and immediately hummed in delight. 

“Quite delicious,” Minerva remarked and Albus nodded in agreement as they moved onto the next bake which was Severus fucking Snape’s. 

They didn’t like it. Good. 

Next was the red-headed woman across from Remus and they really seemed to like it, stating it almost near perfection. Next came a brown-haired woman that Sirius’s hand tensed at when they got to it, causing Remus to frown. He hadn’t seen the man interact with that woman at all. Interesting. 

After the brown-haired woman (Remus should really learn all their names), they moved onto the black woman who was stationed in front of Remus and they also really enjoyed hers, and then it was Remus. He gripped Sirius’s hand a bit tighter. 

“They all look very neat which is good, let’s just hope they taste as good,” Minerva remarked as she put a bite in her mouth, Albus following suit. They hummed in approval. 

“Quite delicious,” Albus remarked. “This one is going to be hard to judge I can see,” he continued and Remus had to school his face from beaming. But Sirius gripped his hand tighter which made Remus squeeze back. 

James was after Remus and he did well but he had thirteen inside of twelve. (Sirius thought James would say something like ‘Well I should get extra points, right? It could’ve been eleven instead of thirteen.’ Sirius would have replied, ‘I think you’re just shit at maths, mate.’) A tanned girl with chestnut brown hair was after James and like Sirius, they looked very messy but the flavor was good. 

“The cream is a bit too runny for my taste,” Albus commented and Remus sighed. This is not easy for anyone and it was only going to get harder. Minerva and Albus were picky. 

They moved onto Lucius’s which weren’t even topped with whipped cream which made Remus smirk, and then they headed onto Alice who’s were satisfactory it seemed. And they ended with another guy who appeared slightly mousy and even his picture on the altar conveyed a strong sense of panic. He did what Remus would describe as a ‘meh’ job. 

And then the judging. Remus kept waiting for his name and he held onto Sirius’s hand tightly and he couldn’t tell who was sweating more. Unsurprisingly, Lucius was last, then Severus, the mousy-looking boy, named Peter, was tenth, followed by the person with the chestnut brown hair, named Marlene, was ninth, followed by the first guy, Frank, then Alice, the woman that made Sirius tense up was named Andromeda and she was sixth. Sirius tensed up again and stayed that way when he was announced to be fifth. 

“Sirius, overall a good set of bakes, just a bit of a mess,” Albus noted and Sirius smiled with a nod. 

James was fourth and then came the top three which hadn't registered yet that Remus was in. But he quickly realized as Sirius squeezed his hand tightly and Remus held his breath. 

“In third, is this one,” Minerva said, gesturing to the bake with the photo of the redhead who’s station was across from Remus’s. “Lily, a really good bake the sponge could be just a bit wetter.”

“These two were really hard to decide between, it was a really a toss up but in second is this one,” Albus stated and Remus raised his hand. Second in the technical! What the fuck! Is this the same Remus he woke up as this morning?

“So that means Dorcas, you are first,” Minerva smiled at the woman’s who station was in front of Remus and Lily leant forward to congratulate her and so did the guy named Frank. She was shocked. 

Remus, Dorcas, Snape, and Lucius all got called for testimonials and again, Sirius was bitter. They had a few more things to film just to wrap up the day but either way, he was going to get a pint with Remus and James. But gods, what a day! He had a pretty good signature and he did well in the technical! And he made friends with the hot guy who sat in front of him! Maybe Bake Off is exactly what Sirius needed to turn his life around and to start actually living happily and not in his family’s shadow. It’s only been two days and he already feels like a different person and as long as he doesn’t muck everything up with the showstopper, he feels pretty confident he’ll make it to the next week. 

He was packing up his things and also taking out some things he would be using for biscuit week next week just as preparation when Remus finally came back over. “Hey, mate! You did bloody amazing!” Sirius said happily and Remus beamed at him. 

“Thanks, Sirius! You did really well, too!” he answered and Sirius grinned. 

“Oi, Remus! Remus Lupin!” shouted a voice from across the tent. It was the redhead Lily that James was absolutely smitten with already. 

“What?” he asked, his face neutral as she stomped over to him, an unreadable expression clouding her face. 

“You and Dorcas, are you two some kind of wizards or something?” she asked, sniffing afterward and Remus grinned at her. 

“What, jealous?” he asked, poking a bit of fun but the reddening of his cheeks was absolutely noticeable and Sirius smiled carefully to himself as he watched the exchange. 

“Jealous? Me? Absolutely not,” she scoffed. But she smiled after. “Congratulations, you and her seem really fantastic at baking.”

“Hey, you do too,” he answered softly and she smiled at him. 

“Yeah well, I was only complimenting you to make you more comfortable so you’d let your guard down,” she shrugged and Sirius watched Remus roll his eyes. 

The two of them almost seemed like him and James in the sense that they immediately hit it off. There was no bite behind their words or actions, they were just banting with each other. Sirius felt a green ugly monster want to rear its head in the back of his mind but he quickly shut the door on it. He did not know Remus and he certainly did not know if he was even into blokes. Sure they held hands during the judging of the technical but it was just a high stakes situation. It didn’t mean anything. 

“You’re Welsh, aren’t you?” she asked him and Sirius saw the honey-haired man nod out of the corner of his eye. “Could tell from the accent, eh. Well, I’m from Cokeworth, you know in the midlands. I reckon the train comes by both our stops so if you want a friendly face to sit by tomorrow, just shoot me a text. And maybe we could grab a quick cuppa in town before shooting in the morning,” she offered and Remus seemed to light up at the suggestion. It left a warm feeling spreading in his chest. 

“That’d be nice! Here, let me give you my number,” Remus answered and both of them pulled out their phones, exchanging numbers and laughed. 

“I’m gonna name you Wolf McWolf in my phone,” Lily snorted and Remus playfully glared at her. 

“Uncalled for, ginger,” Remus shot back. “Just for that, you will be Little Red to me,” he grinned deviously and she scoffed back at him. 

“Hey, there chums!” James’s booming voice interrupted and Sirius was grateful. He was growing tired of watching the two of them flirt or whatever. Yes, he was bitter. Yes, he was a petulant child sometimes. It came with the territory, he was used to getting what he wanted and he wanted Remus. Gods, he’s a mess. 

“Ugh, you,” Lily sneered but there was no real malice behind it, Sirius noted. “What is it that you want?” 

“The lads and I were going to grab a pint when we wrapped up here. I suppose you wouldn’t want to join us, Evans?” James inquired, his eyes shining brightly and when she snorted, his face fell a bit. 

“Not tonight, we have the showstopper tomorrow. It’s rather immature of you to get a drink after today, you couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” she pointed out and James shrugged. 

“We could also go tomorrow if you wanted to join then,” the brown-skinned boy offered eagerly and Lily tried to stop the smile from growing on her face. 

“Well, we’ll see four eyes. If the three of you make it through tomorrow, then I will think about grabbing a drink with you lot,” she snorted and James was back to full-on grinning. 

“Oh I think she’s challenging us, mate,” Sirius finally remarked, glancing over at his new friend who nodded solemnly. 

“It would appear so, perhaps tonight we should practice one more time at my place,” James offered and Sirius couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking. 

“Alright, everyone! That’s a wrap! See you all bright and early tomorrow! 8 am sharp!” Sluggy called and all of the contestants broke apart and finished getting everything ready for tomorrow. And then he headed out with his new best friend and his new crush. Bake Off was getting interesting.

~

Remus woke up the next morning with a fond smile already on his lips despite the ungodly hour of the morning he was awake at. The night before had been really fun for him and they hadn’t gotten drunk at all really, just enough to feel a slight buzz but with the promise that no matter what happened today, they would go out again after the showstopper and get properly smashed. Remus was looking forward to it. 

He changed quickly and headed downstairs, kissing his mum on the cheek as he entered the kitchen. “Toast for my boy,” she said sweetly and Remus gave her a quick smile before stuffing a piece in his mouth. 

“Nervous, fab?” (Nervous, son?) his dad asked from his usual seat at the table, the morning paper open in front of him. 

“Ddim mewn gwirionedd, yn ddideimlad yn bennaf,” (Not really, mostly just numb.) Remus answered easily, being completely truthful. His nerves felt fried from yesterday and he knew he practiced as much as possible the weeks following up to the competition. He wouldn’t say he was ready and he also wouldn’t say it would turn out well or he was super confident. But he’d made as much peace as he possibly could with the weekend. Whatever happened would happen and he wouldn’t be able to change. (That’s not to say he wouldn’t be a mess during the actual competition, he figured it was kind of calm before the storm.)

He finished off his toast, grabbed his bag and rushed to the door so he could hurry to the train station. He couldn’t afford to be late. 

“Let us know if you’ll be home late,” his mom called and he called back an acknowledgment. 

“Hey Little Red, hopping on the train right now, second cart from the front,” Remus sent the message as the train pulled up to the station. He had only arrived a mere 30 seconds before. 

Lily texted back immediately. “Sounds good, Wolfie. See u in a few.” Remus smiled and settled into a seat, taking out his headphones and shuffling his guilty pleasure playlist that’s filled with Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. 

Lily joined him at the Cokeworth station and he quickly hid away his phone with the incriminating playlist and struck up a conversation. “So, you’re from Wales,” Lily stated and Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“So I am,” Remus agreed.

“Speak Welsh?” she asked, light in her eyes and Remus snorted. 

“Siarad Saesneg?” (Speak English?) he shot back and Lily grinned. 

“Wicked,” she gasped. “What’s it like? Wales, I mean. I’ve never been despite it being just across the way,” she asked and Remus shrugged. 

“Green, small, Welsh. I live just outside of Cardiff and the city’s rather nice. If I’m being honest I do love it, I just wish I could get out for a little,” he sighed. 

“Like, uni or something? I mean I get it though, Cokeworth is small and everyone knows everyone. It’d be nice to get away but I can’t exactly afford uni,” Lily revealed and Remus looked at her for a second before nodding. 

“Me too,” he answered. “I’ve always wanted to go, I love learning, I love studying, I love reading but, uh, we can’t afford it either,” he finished with a mumble and Lily gave him a piercing look. He felt uncomfortable. He knew his scars were noticeable and he knew people would always have questions but it wasn’t their business. 

“I say go for it. We both should, money be damned,” Lily retorted finally and Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re what? 21? I am too, it’s not too late, it’s never to late,” she continued and Remus smiled. 

“How’d you guess my age?” he asked and she snorted. 

“Didn’t you know? I’m a Seer,” she joked and Remus laughed. “By the way, did you know that Severus lives just over the tracks from me in Spinner’s End?” she added on and Remus tried not to let his mood turn sour. He didn’t want to talk about that dickhead.

“Oh how interesting,” he mused carefully and Lily’s face turned hard. 

“The guy is a prick. We used to be friends, you know. When we tykes, inseparable and all that. But he changed and I tried hard to forgive him and help him but he’s just a slimy git,” she huffed and Remus glanced over at her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely and she shrugged. 

“Past is past, it’s just crazy to see him here after a couple of years of not seeing him and knowing he’s still the same twat he’s always been,” she sneered and Remus nodded.

“I had… a… friend like that,” Remus bit out, trying to keep himself under control as he thought about Fenrir fucking Greyback. 

“I’m sorry, too then,” Lily said softly and Remus smiled at her. 

“Eh, you know, past is past. A guy tries to rape, permanently disables you as a result, and then you beat the shit out of him. Casual, right?” he offered with a flimsy smile and Lily laughed. He was glad she did. 

“You’re a right riot, mate,” she said. “At least you got him back and gave him what’s coming. Fuck that guy,” she continued and Remus scrunched his nose. 

“Yeah well, now we’re on fucking Bake Off and Snape may be here too but there’s no way he’s winning. Not with you on the show too,” he offered and Lily rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah I think you’re more of the threat to be completely honest,” she answered and Remus smiled a toothy grin. 

“We’ll both give him a run of it,” he compromised and she smiled back at him. 

“Deal.” 

Remus was sure he and Lily would take the train to the tent together every morning they could. He was sure he’d just found a friend forever considering they’d just had a heart-to-heart at 7 in the morning on the way to a baking competition. Plus she shared part of her chocolate scone with him and he’d always been a sucker for chocolate.

~

Marlene got to the Bake Off grounds earlier than most, the only other person there was Frank Longbottom and they had a very brief but friendly exchange of hellos. Marlene just wanted to get there early to clear their head a bit and focus on the task at hand. They’d practiced their cake sculpture for weeks and they knew exactly what they needed to do in order for it to succeed. As long as there weren’t any major catastrophes, they’d be fine. 

They were sat on a tree stomp only a small distance away from the tent when Dorcas Meadowed showed up out of nowhere and plopped down right next to them. “Morning,” Dorcas drawled out with too much pep in her step for 7:41 in the morning. 

“Hullo,” Marlene answered with a very small smile. “Lovely day innit?” they asked and Dorcas scrunched her nose. 

“Yeah, it is. But it got even better with you in it,” she answered and Marlene immediately blushed. Was this flirting or was she like this with everyone. 

“I could say the same for you,” they answered cheekily. “But maybe if you brought me a coffee next time, it would be even better.”

Dorcas smiled. “Oh so, I’m not enough? Need coffee too? Alright, fine. How’d you take it? Black? Cream? Sugar?”

“Black,” Marlene answered back with a playful grin. “One sugar.”

“Oh that sounds gods awful,” Dorcas gagged and Marlene giggled. 

“Hey, to each their own,” they snarked and Dorcas rolled her eyes. 

“You nervous for today?” she asked and Marlene shrugged. 

“Yeah, I mean I think it’d be weird if I weren’t,” they replied and Dorcas nodded.

“Me too, but also. Not really? I don’t know I guess I just feel confident,” she continued on and they nodded along. 

“Yeah, I think that’s a good way to describe it,” Marlene concluded, smiling at Dorcas who smiled back. 

“Wanna get a drink after today?” Dorcas asked and Marlene snorted but nodded at the same time. 

“Yeah, I really do,” they answered. “If you’re interested I packed a joint in my bag, we could share if you want,” they continued and Dorcas lit up at the suggestion. 

“Sneaky little thing, aren’t you?” she laughed before saying, “Yeah, that’d be nice. Need something to take the edge off with this competition.”

“Precisely my thoughts,” Marlene smiled and Dorcas smiled right back. Gods, they wanted to kiss her so badly but it’s been less than two days of knowing each other and that was way too forward. But still, the want was there.

~

James and Sirius showed up to the tent together as Sirius really did spend the night at James’s place. James was oddly kind and perceptive to Sirius’s weird moods when his home life was brought up and he had made a genuine offer for him to stay the night. 

“That is if you don’t mind the lunacy of Godric’s Hollow,” James had snorted and Sirius grinned.

“No, I very much welcome lunacy,” he had replied and that was that. Sirius met Fleamont and Euphemia Potter and spent the night in the bedroom next to James. They hadn’t practiced the showstopper challenge like James had suggested earlier in the day but even if they wanted to, they would’ve been able to, considering the size of the Potter’s kitchen. It would send Wahlburga Black on a fucking rampage.  

They took their stations easily and Sirius admired Remus from behind as the guy took a spot at the station in front of him, just like the day before. “Still on for tonight?” Sirius asked quickly and Remus turned around to smile and nod. 

Sirius took a glance over to find James trying to chat up Lily again and he held back an eye roll. The guy was an absolute disaster but he seemed to thrive on being that way which made Sirius appreciate him even more. He, too, was an absolute disaster. 

They settled in quickly after that and the cameras started rolling as Minerva, Albus, Sluggy, and Hagrid all walked in. 

“Welcome to your very first showstopper!” Sluggy called out and Sirius leaned forward on his station, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear that fell loose from his bun. “Albus and Minerva would very much like you to make a sculpture of your favorite world monument out of cake. It can be the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, the Great Wall of China, anything you want but it must be made entirely out of cake and your landmark must be decorated to the highest degree,” he explained and everyone stared at him.

“Yeh have three and a half hours! So on yer marks!” Hagrid boomed. 

“Get set!” Sluggy chimed.

“Bake!” the two hosts called together and Sirius rushed to start his bake. 

Sirius ran through the process of making his batters very quickly, double-checking that his oven was preheating. He was briefly aware at some point that the judges were making their rounds and they were standing in front of Remus who was explaining his sculpture. He caught words like ‘Northern Wales’ and ‘Devil’s Bridge Fall’ but he was too focused on pouring his batter evenly to be able to entirely hear the explanation. 

Just as he was ensuring the pans of batter were even and ready to go in the oven, he was interrupted. “Sirius! How are you today?” Sluggy asked cheerfully and the man smiled at the two judges and the host. 

“Hello Minerva, Albus, Sluggy. I’m well today, a bit nervous, but okay,” he answered and they smiled back at him. He bent down to put his sponge batter into the oven. He needed them in as soon as possible. 

“What are you preparing for the judges today? Where are you taking us?” Sluggy asked and Sirius held back an eye roll.

“Calais, France. I’ll be sculpting the Calais Lighttower out of raspberry and vanilla elderflower sponge with chocolate buttercream holding it together and fresh-made fondant covering the outside,” he explained and they nodded, obviously wanting more about why he chose the Lighttower. “My family, they have strong roots in France and I used to go there at least twice a year with them. I always loved Calais and the Lighttower is so beautiful, I hope I pay it homage well,” he continued and they seemed satisfied.

“That sounds lovely and you seem to have a lot to do so we’ll let you be,” Albus conferred and Sirius nodded his thanks before running to start his buttercream icing. 

Before he knew it, there were five minutes left and Sirius was honestly not very pressed for time. He’d had some banter with the bloke behind him, Peter, as well as Remus which kept the mood light and calm (despite Peter’s obvious nerves and lack of time management; he seemed to be a good artist though). He didn’t have any trouble constructing the tower thankfully and the hardest part of covering it in fondant went better than it did when he’d practiced. All that was left was to imprint the brickwork of the tower with a toothpick and paint on some cracks with black dyed buttercream. 

“Bakers, your time is up! Please step away from your bakes!” Sluggy called from the front and Sirius took a deep breath, taking in his full creation and feeling rather proud of it. It looked like a Lighttower and it was standing upright. He just hoped it tastes good. Sirius looked past his own bake and saw Remus’s and was astonished. It was amazing, it looked like he’d painted all the colors of the waterfall and greenery onto the buttercream. And there was a bridge made out of chocolate work that was spectacular. Unless it tasted like horse shit, Sirius was positive that Remus would be Star Baker. The guy was bloody brilliant. 

“That looks amazing, Rem,” Sirius gushed and he saw him blush while muttering a quiet thank you as they settled in for the judging to start. 

They started with Marlene and went up her row. Sirius watched as Andromeda displayed a beautiful Eiffel Tower and tried not to seethe as she got glowing reviews. He liked Andromeda, she was always his favorite cousin but she was still part of his family and he did not do well with family. Thankfully, neither of them had tried to make contact with each other and that’s how he really preferred it. 

James had a beautiful Taj Mahal but apparently, his flavors were a little lacking and Severus’s looked pretty terrible but apparently tasted great. It was a shoddy Big Ben and Sirius thought him to be a prick. He’d never had a conversation with the guy but he just seemed like a fucking douchenozzle. 

They went down Sirius’s row and that bloke Lucius who’d been mucking everything up had a lackluster showstopper and Sirius couldn’t even make out a church building let alone the Norte Dame, Alice’s was average it seemed to be, Dorcas’ received rave reviews and Remus’s received glowing remarks about design (as it should’ve). They liked the taste of it and Remus was absolutely blushing on his walk back. It was a great look on him. 

“Sirius, would you please bring up your monument,” Sluggy encouraged and he stood for his moment of truth. Honestly, if anyone besides Lucius was booted this weekend, Sirius would be shocked but needless to say, he didn’t feel too particularly nervous about judging. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“Well it certainly looks fantastic,” Albus remarked. “Very tall.”

“Yes, the fondant looks well made and it’s homemade?” Minerva asked and Sirius nodded. 

“Yes, it is.”

They sliced through it and the whole thing remained standing, thankfully. They inspected his sponge thoroughly. 

“Both looked to be well baked and the buttercream is nice and smooth,” Minerva inspected. The raspberry sponge is a brilliant pink and the vanilla elderflower sponge looks quite airy. Let’s just hope we actually get the elderflower flavor along with the vanilla,” she continued and Sirius watched as they put a piece in their mouths. 

Albus hummed. “That raspberry is quite lovely with the chocolate buttercream, sharpness and sweetness both come through really well,” he said simply. 

“Yes, I quite agree and it’s a beautiful texture, a wonderful bake on this one. Now for elderflower and vanilla,” Minvera remarked, taking a bite onto her fork, Albus following her lead. 

After a second she sighed, “Pity. The elderflower doesn’t come through at all really and the vanilla flavor is very overpowering.” Sirius nodded. 

“It’s a bit dry too,” Albus added and he nodded again. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, waking forward to receive his bake and head back to his station. 

Peter was last and he did fine but not good and that was that. They had a quick break while the judges deliberated, all of them gave small testimonials and then they convened back in the tent for the final judging of the week. All of this was a whirlwind for Sirius, he was dead on his feet but he was still ready to go out for the night with Remus and James.

“This week, I have the pleasure of announcing Star Baker. This baker seems to have an eye for chocolate and a hand for design. Remus, you are this week’s Star Baker,” Sluggy announced and Sirius leaned over the person named Marlene and patted his thigh, congratulating him as he sat there absolutely awestruck. Lily patted his head in congratulations and Sirius sat back in his seat. 

“Now I ‘ave the very, very, very sad job of telling yeh who’s leavin’ us this week. I tell yeh, I don’ wanna see any of yeh go and I barely even know yeh!” Hagrid exclaimed, almost crying it seemed like. “This week, the one who’ll be leavin’ us is…” Everyone held their breath but Sirius felt as though it was more for show rather than actual nerves. It could only be one person. “… Lucius.”

Lucius stood up and gave a curt nod and sneered a little but everyone still stood and gave hugs for the week as was tradition on the show. Albus and Minerva went around and congratulated everyone, gave advice to those who seemed to need it, praises to those who deserved it, all while Remus was bombarded with hugs and Lucius was not approached at all very much.

~

It took too long for the camera crew to call cut on the day in Remus’s opinion but he did cry when he called his mom to tell her he got Star Baker. He honestly couldn’t believe it, he really thought Dorcas deserved it more than him and told her so. She told him to shut up and be more confident in his abilities. 

But now, he was heading into the nearby town with James and Sirius to grab a quick drink and maybe get drunk. He was going to get drunk. For sure. Especially with Sirius and James, they seemed to be the types to get absolutely hammered when possible. Lily had in fact tagged along like she said she would and she brought Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice with her. 

Remus got progressively more drunk and closer to Sirius throughout the night. Alice left rather early, Marlene and Dorcas spent the entire time talking with each other and Remus almost asked why they hadn’t started making out yet. (Honestly, he might’ve said it later in the night but he was a bit too drunk to fully remember.) James and Lily were talking almost the entire time and she had a hard time pretending to be annoyed by him, even when he really was annoying. 

Sirius and Remus spent the entire night talking and he’s pretty sure Sirius told him his whole life story and Remus was also sure he told Sirius his but he was even more sure neither of them would remember in the morning.

Near the end of the night, Remus sent his mum a text that he wasn’t coming home because he was staying the night at one of the other contestant’s houses with a few other people. Lily made sure Marlene and Dorcas got home safe, promising that all three of them would text in the giant group chat they started at the bar. And then he settled in bed with Sirius and James, all three of them muttering drunken nonsense. 

“Guys, I have work tomorrow,” Remus murmured, his cheek pressed against Sirius’s arm. 

“You can’t go Moony, you’re Star Baker,” Sirius slurred and Remus laughed a very drunk laugh that was all deep and stomach-ish. 

“Moony?” he asked.

“Awhooo! Wolf Wolf,” Sirius murmured back. “Moony.”

“Doggy,” James drawled and Sirius pushed him a bit. “Sirius star, Canis Major,” he explained weakly. 

“Not Doggy,” Sirius huffed. 

“Toebeans,” Remus said flatly. James snorted loudly. 

“Absolutely not,” Sirius growled. 

“Padfoot,” James stated easily and Sirius huffed as Remus cheered. 

“Padfoot!”

“Wha bout me?” James slurred. 

“‘Ou got big ears and you get tha-.. tha-.. you know…. ahh-face like that… thing,” Sirius said in an extremely unhelpful manner. 

“Oh, I know like the uh… animal.. that..” Remus added trailing off and James let out a noise of impatience.

“What?” he whined, drawing it out as his new friends were being extremely unhelpful. “Moony, Padfoot,” he cried and both other men laughed but Sirius hiccuped loudly causing Remus and James to laugh again. 

“Hm, Prongs,” Sirius said, snuffling further into the pillow of James’s bed, perfectly content between his two friends. 

“Hm yeah,” Remus agreed. “I have work tomorrow,” he said again and James reached over and pushed on his arm. 

“Shu up, Star Baker,” he grumbled. “Tell them no. We have bacon here and you live in fucking Welsh,” James murmured, pressing his face into his pillow. 

“Wales,” Remus corrected. “Bachgen ceirw mud,” (Dumb deer boy.) he muttered. James said something absolutely unintelligible 

“Hmm quiet, sleepy time,” Sirius yawned and neither of the other two boys said anything as they both thoroughly agreed. It was indeed time for bed. 

And Remus did not end up going to work the next day, instead, he spent the day extremely hungover with his two newest and best friends: Padfoot and Prongs. He loved Bake Off before, but now he absolutely adored it. 

[carefreejules]

Prologue – Broken Routine

In the middle of the void of darkness, a lone figure stands under a single spotlight as she feebly clutches the gleaming golden trophy in her small hands. She lifts up her head to smile at an audience who’s not even there. The single ray of light shuts off suddenly, enveloping her entire being into darkness.

Cold.

Lonely.

Muffled voices grow louder and louder, clearer and coherent. Filling the empty dark void with a cacophony of the same demeaning phrases that repeat like a broken record. The girl shivers from the darkness. She falls to her knees, as if being weighed down by the words themselves.

“You cheated.”

“You tricked opponents into feeling sorry for you.”

“You didn’t deserve to win.”

A tear falls. Then two. Until her eyes are blurred and overflowed with tears.

Through the sea of self-deprecation that drowns her mind, she weakly reaches out into the darkness and says,

“Help me.”

--

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

The girl in the dream jolts up awake, older now, her heart and mind racing from the adrenaline of abruptly being pulled from her nightmare. Her skin feels hot from the warm summer air that breezed inside of her room from an open window, but at the same time feels cold from the lingering darkness that clings to her body, refusing to let go. She shivers. Her sleepy cobalt blue eyes drift around her room, as if confirming to herself of the present and not of the past that creeps into her dreams every now and again.

Just to be sure, she pushes the covers off of her and wanders over to her blue messenger bag to pull out her wallet and Trainer ID.

Name: Juliet

Birthday: June 15

Home Region: Hoenn – Lilycove City

That was enough for her. She lets out a sigh of relief and turns her head to the wide mirror in the bathroom. She tiredly regarded her medium length wavy black hair with various stray locks sticking up in random places, the subtle bags under her eyes, and the baggy Mudkip shirt she wore over shorts that didn’t match.

“Good morning,” Juliet greets her reflection. Something comes up from behind her and nudges his head against her ankle. She looks down to see her Shiny Trapinch groggily nuzzling his head against her legs, silently requesting mutual affection. Her smile is gentle as she scoops up the baby Ant Pit Pokemon in her arms and plants a soft kiss on his head. Seeing her beloved pet Trapinch was enough to make her forget the dream she had.

“’Morning to you too, Pistachio. I have to get ready for work so be good while I’m gone, OK?” She told him gently. Pistachio nods obediently and squirms out of her arms to waddle back to his bed.

As she went through her usual morning routine, her Rotom phone hovered in front of her to deliver her morning updates that mainly consisted of the weather, missed calls or new texts, and the spawns of Pokemon that were likely to appear in the Wild Area via Power Spots.

“Rotom, are there any strong Raids that are likely to appear today?”

“Bzzzt! There is likely going to be a Dragapult Raid in Axew’s Eye. But, it will be raining.”

“Dragapult huh...Ghost and Dragon, but being part dragon means it potentially has a large type coverage.” Juliet mused to herself as she tightened the bright yellow tie around the collar of her black and white plaid Battle Cafe uniform. After successfully taming the knots of her bed head, she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail and slipped on her thick framed navy glasses. She took one more look at herself in the mirror for any obvious imperfections, filled up Pistachio’s food bowl, before grabbing her messenger bag and heading out.

It was a hot day in Wyndon, but the breeze that brisked passed her face as she biked along the route to work made it bearable. She wasn’t going to let a dream put a damper on an otherwise, beautiful day. The smell of coffee, tea, and pastries did wonders to calm her nerves, and she could vent out any frustrations on Raids after work.

The Battle Cafe came into view, making her jump off her bike to walk the rest of the way there. She slipped to the back of the cafe, carefully parking and locking her bike to a light post, and welcomed the scent of freshly brewed coffee that hit her senses the moment she walked in.

“’Morning, Boss!” Juliet called. Her boss turned his head back and shot her an easy-going grin. Richard, who casually lets her call him ‘Boss’, is the Cafe Master of the Battle Cafe, so he was the one who battled customers while she was just a part-time Barista.

“Top of the morning, kiddo! Alcremie and Slurpuff are in tip-top shape today so I have a good feeling about my wins today!”

“Ohoho...Is that so? I'll be paying close attention, then.” Juliet tossed out her Sylveon, whom she named Hilda, to help around the cafe as per usual. Her Pokemon was also popular amongst regulars and children for being friendly and playful; sometimes even putting on a little show for customers while they were waiting for their drinks.

Juliet fell into her usual comfortable rhythm, taking and making orders that came in, overseeing battles that were requested by customers – it was clear that today was just going to be another normal day at work. Before she knew it, the end of her shift came and she swiftly changed out of her work uniform into her usual blue varsity jacket, ripped black shorts, and grey beret before taking off to the Wild Area. 

This routine was enough. She didn’t need anything more or less.

--

It was raining heavily over Axew’s Eye, but that didn’t stop Juliet from peeking into the stony well and tossing a Wishing Piece in its depths. She immediately took a step back as a huge pillar of energy shot up from the Power Spot and swirled ominously with power. A tell tale sign of a powerful Dynamax Raid. But she had travelled from region to region with her Pokemon and it wasn’t like this was her first time battling a powerful Raid by herself. She took off the soggy grey beret sitting on top of her soaked ebony hair before throwing her legs over the Power Spot and falling into its depths. She skillfully landed with her knees bent in a crouch to avoid impact in her ankles and rose to face the Dynamaxed Pokemon that was waiting for her.

A Dynamaxed Dragapult. As her Rotom predicted.

She hummed thoughtfully before sending out Hilda. Her Sylveon growled at the large Dragon Pokemon before her trainer summoned her back to be Dynamaxed. Hilda stood on an even playing field as Dragapult and unleashed Max Starfall as commanded. Dragapult recoiled and immediately put up it’s defences. The trainer didn’t expect things to go down hill so quickly from there. Breaking down its barrier wasn’t the hard part; but it was how many turns it took to attack and the range of the attacks, chipping off Sylveon’s health too quickly for comfort.

It became clear that this battle wasn’t feasible for one person.

Juliet clicked her tongue in defeat and returned her Pokemon before fleeing out of the Power Spot on her Flygon. Once the trainer was back on the surface, she called out her Sylveon to heal her up and reassured her of her efforts.

“It’s OK, Hilda. I was a little in over my head thinking I could do that Raid by myself. I might have to call the others.” She cooed while stroking her Sylveon. Hilda yipped sadly but nudged her face into her trainer’s hand. The trainer retired to her tent that she had set up a few feet away and as if on cue, her Rotom Phone started to ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jules! You called saying you needed help with a Raid? Are you sure you should be doing raids in this weather?”

“Well, I thought it would be smart since there are less trainers around and the rain has let up a bit. I could use some help, though. This one’s a tough one.” Juliet replied as she dried her hair off with a towel with her free hand.

“Then, let me help! Where are you?”

“Axew’s Eye.”

“Ahh, so it must be a dragon Pokemon! Those are tough. I’ll be over in a jiffy!”

“Thanks, Mary!”

After 20 minutes or so of waiting, Mary peeked her head into Juliet’s tent. Mary was a member of their Raid group and one of Juliet’s good friends that she met when travelling to Johto.

Unlike the Gym Challenge, where young aspiring trainers take on the Gyms across the Galar region in order to participate in the Champion Cup, there was another sport that was rising in popularity for those who were looking for a more thrill-seeking experience that involved teamwork. Throughout the Wild Area in Galar, there are countless rock wells called ‘Power Spots’ that hid a massive cavern of Dynamaxed Pokemon, all varying in rarity and strength. Sometimes the Pokemon lurking underneath will make their presence known from the beacons of light that emit from their wells. However, rarer Pokemon are more compelled by the power of Wishing Pieces that are thrown in. Wishing Stars were not easy to come by, being meteorites that fall from space, making them a strongly sought out item for Raid teams.

The Raid team that Juliet is the ‘leader’ of, which she named ‘Raid Prism’, is considered one of the most well-known teams due to the fact that they were one of the first teams that started the boom of Raids in the first place. The boom was unintentional and started from a few impromptu Raids they took on when they first landed in Galar over a year ago. Juliet jokingly recorded and streamed their battles for something to look back on, until a steady stream of supporters tuned in with each Raid they took on thereafter. Her group weren’t really doing it out of competitiveness to see who could catch the rarest Pokemon or amass a collection of Gigantamax Pokemon – they’ve always done it out of the excitement of just fighting strong Dynamaxed Pokemon as a team. Their efforts were eventually recognized by Professor Magnolia, who hired them as Field Researchers in order to uncover the secrets of the Dynamax Phenomenon from the various Pokemon that were caught in the Power Spots. 

Well, Field Researchers was a bit of a stretch since their job mostly just involved catching Pokemon that were requested of them. Because of this, their team wasn't blessed with the opportunity to hear the different theories that were thrown around over round tables about what was being researched, but it did pay well – well enough that the team decided to settle down in Galar for the time being in neighbouring flats in Wyndon.

But that hardly mattered at the moment..

Jules and Mary jumped into the Power Spot and, surprise surprise, were blown out from their defeat. Mary dusted off the wet dirt from her paint splattered patterned tights, wrung out rain water from her damp, curly brown hair, and grimaced down into the Power Spot.

“You weren’t kidding. I think this is the first Raid Pokemon I’ve encountered that could attack so many times and with so much range!”

“Do you think Tessu and Vanquil are available? I think we need the whole team for this one.”

The duo took a moment to call the two remaining members of their team and they arrived in record time. Tessu stared at the state of Mary and Juliet, who were soaked from the rain and their hair were also tousled from being blown out. The short haired trainer gritted her teeth.

“Yikes. How many attempts did you make?”

“Mary once, twice for me.” Juliet grumbled while pulling her hair out of their twin braids.

“Well, we’re all here now so let’s wrap this up, yeah?” Vanquil suggested while rolling his shoulders confidently.

--

“Why is this so hard?!” Vanquil yelled as he lay face first inside of Juliet’s tent. The others sat around him in defeat as they tiredly ate through their curry in hopes of adding fuel to their exhausted minds and bodies.

“Do you think we’ve finally been bested?” Tessu mumbled.

“I don’t think so. I think the best course of action is to work around how many times it can attack.” Juliet began.

“You mean like, figure out how to not get hit?”

“Exactly! Our Pokemon are strong enough to dish out damage and break down its barriers but the problem is stamina and it’s Dragon Darts attack.”

“Hmmm...Why don’t we use attacks that will make our Pokemon out of its range before attacking?” Mary thought out loud.

“Ohhhhh...like Fly or Dig? That could work! I also have a bunch of Guard Specs that could eliminate any debuffs our Pokemon get.” Jules turned to her Rotom Phone, which had been recording their conversation, and uploaded it to their team’s Pokegram. She always made a habit of recording as much of their Raids as possible for the purpose of helping and inspiring Raid teams. The comments were already flooding in with ‘you can do it!’ or ‘psh, it can’t be that hard’. Once they had finished their curry, they set out to the Power Spot in hopes that this would be the final attempt.

--

“This is working way better than I thought!” Juliet yelled as her Flygon, Tiki, flew towards the Dragapult to unleash Crunch, which broke through it’s barrier and weakened it. The Dragon Pokemon started to look worn out, signalling that it was almost down for the count. Mary’s Thievul dealt a final Night Slash before the Dragapult fell in defeat.

“Now, Jules!!” Vanquil shouted in her direction. Juliet quickly pulled out an Ultra Ball to Dynamax it and ran with it before jumping high and throwing it over her head with all of her might at the fallen Pokemon. The giant Ultra Ball opened and sucked in the Dragon Pokemon before landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

They all huddled together in anticipation as the oversized Ultra Ball shook slowly on the ground.

It shook once.

It shook twice.

It shook thrice.

The Raid team braced themselves for the Pokemon to break out, but the Ultra Ball glowed green and shrunk down to normal size. Vanquil threw a fist in the air and let out a loud whoop that echoed through the cavern while the other three sighed in relief and slumped to the ground in exhaustion. Vanquil went over to retrieve the caught Pokemon and helped them up so they could finally get out of there. But not before posting the recording of their battle and victory first.

The rain had begun to stop as they got out of the Power Spot one by one. Vanquil proudly twirled their Dragapult’s Ultra Ball on his finger before staring at it curiously. “What do you guys want to name him?”

“God.”

“My Worst Nightmare.”

“Hell?”

“Um...On second thought, I’ll leave it at that. I think we’re all a little traumatized right now.”

--

“Of course, Professor Magnolia. It was a hard one to catch but hopefully the Dragapult will offer something to your research. Yes. You’re welcome. Take care, OK? And say hi to Sonia for me. Good night!”

Juliet had never been this happy to be back in her flat before. She was soaked from head to toe from the rain and her body ached from over-exertion. Thank Arceus she didn’t have work the next day and she could spend the day sleeping in and lounging around. The trainer took a long, hot shower, threw on her so-called pajamas and was ready to knock out for the day.

Another day came and went. Another routine, unbroken and passing by peacefully-

RING RING RING RING

Until her Rotom phone started ringing.

She whined exasperatedly and was ready to tell the telemarketers off upon taking a quick glance at the unfamiliar number. Her exhausted body screamed at her to ignore it in favour of sleep, but her thumb instinctively tapped the answer button anyway.

She tried to put on her friendliest, at work, voice for the person on the other line.

“Hello?”

“Good evening. Is this Miss Juliet?”

A mature woman’s voice, she deduced.

“Yes, it is. Who is this?”

“My name is Oleana. I’m the secretary to Chairman Rose.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: New Job and Old Connections

In the middle of the void of darkness, a lone figure stands under a single spotlight as she feebly clutches the gleaming golden trophy in her small hands. Except this time, she doesn’t raise her head to smile. She barely acknowledges the ghostly hands that run through her hair across her back, coddling her but with no warmth to speak of.

Cold.

Lonely.

The muffled voices returned, growing louder and louder, clearer and coherent. Filling the empty dark void with a cacophony of empty compliments and reassurance. Or, were they actually empty?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know which voices to believe.

“You did amazing!”

“You’re so strong!”

“I want to be like you someday.”

Why wasn’t she happy? Why couldn’t she be happy? Who cares what other people thought? As long as there was someone who believed in her, that’s all she needed, right?

Wasn’t making her parents proud, enough?

--

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Instead of jolting awake, Juliet’s eyes fluttered open, letting the few tears escape down her cheeks. Recalling the fragments of her dream made her heart uneasy, and her hands shaky. No matter how many times she saw those dreams, she could never get used to them. But, at the same time, she knew she couldn’t dwell on them. Ignoring them meant they would eventually go away, right?

Right.

Turning over to her Rotom phone, it reminded her of the important meeting with Oleana and Chairman Rose that was scheduled for her Raid team, from the call she got a few days ago. She couldn’t recall specific details of the call amidst her initial excitement but she knew that the opportunity given to them was an honour to receive. Thinking about where the job could lead them, filled her with the enthusiasm she needed to force herself out of bed and get dressed.

After sifting through her wardrobe for a good hour and a half, mentally cursing herself for not having many business or formal appropriate clothes options, Juliet settled on a blue blouse with black pants to wear for the meeting. Her hands instinctively went up to her hair to tie them into their usual braids, but perhaps she looked a bit more mature if she left her hair as is.

She didn’t really know what she was doing. Travelling all over the world didn’t leave many opportunities for her to dress up for the occasion.

“This should be fine.” She told herself.

“Trapinch?” Pistachio called out. She turned her head to the baby Pokemon, who waddled over to her feet and gazed up at her curiously. He probably was just as unfamiliar to her current attire as she was.

“Me and the others have an important meeting to go to. But, do you want to come with me? It must be boring being at home, but you have to be good, OK?”

“Trapinch!!”

--

“...This is a really long elevator.” Vanquil grumbled while tapping his foot impatiently. It certainly wasn’t an understatement. The Rose Tower stood over 1000 feet tall, overlooking all of Wyndon and beyond. It’s sleek, futuristic architectural design was fitting for Chairman Rose, the one in charge of the Pokemon League and president of a large business conglomerate known as Macro Cosmos. Even though they were inside of the Rose Tower and about to meet the man himself, it still didn’t feel real.

The elevator finally slowed to a stop, and the doors finally opened to reveal Oleana and Chairman Rose waiting for them on the far side of the room. Rose stood up from his executive chair and beckoned them out of the elevator with a gentle grin.

“Come in, you four. No need to be shy.”

Easier said than done from a man with as much power and money as one could only dream of.

Juliet was the first to exit and firmly shook his hand. “Good day, Chairman Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. The things you’re doing for Dynamax Research on top of contributing to tourism, I’m very grateful to see the Galar region thriving especially with the Gym Challenge fast approaching.” Rose added.

“Tourism?”

“Why, yes. With your group and many others making a sport and spectacle of Max Raid Battles, we’ve seen an increase in visitors from all over the world who come to visit the Wild Area for themselves.” Rose motioned them to sit on the leather couches, where tea and other refreshments were spread out in front of them.

“I’m glad! The Galar region is a beautiful region and the Wild Area is just one of the few reasons why we’re so happy to be living here. Right?” Juliet asked, turning her head to her friends, who were already treating themselves to the snacks offered to them.

“Right! We’ve only been living in Galar for over a year, but it’s been really fun doing Raids and inspiring trainers to go out into the wild to see what the region has to offer.” Tessu replied.

“We’ve also been looking forward to the Gym Challenge since in other regions, it’s not as hype up as it is here.” Vanquil added..

“Thank you for reaching out and giving us the opportunity to be co-hosts of the event. But, if I may ask, why us?” Mary asked with a tilt of her head.

“Well, on top of your group playing a part in Dynamax Research, I believe your group in particular will be able to offer different insights of battling since you all come from different regions, correct? That will surely make commentary more interesting and entertaining.” Rose then handed them each an application to fill out, along with an outline of the upcoming Gym Challenge.

“Please look over the application carefully and feel free to flip through the outline of Gym Challenge so you can familiarize yourselves on how we operate it.”

Juliet flipped through the application carefully, choosing to read over the contents first instead of filling it out right away. As the group fell into a comfortable silence and their noses were practically buried in the terms of service, they didn’t notice the person that came by to join them.

Even though he wore his signature fur lined red cape and his signature snap back on his head that never failed to turn people’s heads in his direction.

“Sorry I’m late! I took the wrong monorail on the way here.”

“It’s alright, Leon. Our new employees were just getting settled in.”

CLATTER

Leon. That name made all of them freeze. Juliet didn’t know which one of them dropped their clipboard and pen, but as if in tune with her teammates, they all raised their heads at the same time to look at the legend himself.

Champion Leon.

“L-L-L-L-Leon!” Mary, Vanquil, and Tessu shot up from their seats like a group of Spoinks, eyes sparkling with endless awe and excitement. Juliet watched in amusement as her friends stumbled over questions and compliments of admiration, but...shouldn’t she be sharing in the glee as well?

At least, that’s what she thought. Watching the Champion soak up the praise being sent in his direction, and seeing him smile through each question with ease – something about the scene felt...oddly familiar. But not familiar enough where she could pinpoint when and where the feeling came from.

Her shoulders tensed when his burning golden gaze fell on her. She felt...uneasy being stared at, especially by someone with a strong, overwhelming aura as his. Was he sizing her up? No, it didn’t look like it. His head cocked to the side and it looked like his eyes were searching for something. Then, his eyes lit up in recognition and the wide smile he sent her was all teeth.

“J, right?”

J? What kind of an alias was that? Juliet blinked confusingly. Her mind repeating that name over and over in her head, trying to pull up the memory of the name – if there was any at all.

J, J, J…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Right...Wait. What’s your name?”

“My name?”

“Yeah. You’re not wearing a name tag like your aunt is.”

“...Call me J.”

“J? That’s it?”

“Is that weird?”

“No! In that case, you can call me Lee.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lee.” She blurted out. The memory that flashed in her mind was hazy, but there was no mistaking the foggy images of her helping at her aunt’s inn in Lavaridge Town, along with a purple-haired teen around her age, who was staying at the inn for a vacation. She could barely make out his toothy smile and youthful spirit, that seeing the teen mature into the man in front of her, made the memory feel more distant than ever.

“You remember too. I’m glad! Do you think you can tell me your name now?” Leon joked and outstretched his hand to her. Juliet looked down at his hand, trying to recollect the sudden wave of memories that washed over her. Where did they come from? And why did it take until now for her to remember them? She didn’t want to keep him hanging for long so she swallowed down the uncertainty before reaching out to shake his hand.

“It’s Juliet. Sorry for keeping you in the dark for so long-”

“Stooooooooooooop! Hold on!! You two know each other?!” Tessu interjected in between their handshake. Juliet scratched the side of her cheek and looked to the side sheepishly. ‘Know’ wasn’t the word she would use. Especially since it seemed like Leon had a better memory than her.

“Something like that. It felt like so long ago but, back when I used to help my aunt out at her inn, Leon and his family were on vacation and they stayed at the inn.”

“That’s right. I think I was around...16 maybe? I’ve never forgotten how hospitable your aunt was during our stay. Or how you almost beat me in a Pokemon battle.” The Champion laughed fondly at the memory.

She did? Oh boy, she really did have a bad memory to forget something like that.

“You almost beat the Champion of Galar in a battle?!” Vanquil gawked in disbelief. 

“And you didn’t put two and two together when we came to Galar?” Mary wondered, leaning against Juliet with a suspicious gleam in her eye. Juliet pushed back against her with a pout. Was now really the time to catch up?!

“Look, so much happened after that! I travelled around the world, met you three, came to Galar, etc. If I’m remembering correctly, Leon was a bit more scrawny and his hair was shorter back then.”

“I wasn’t that scrawny.” Leon retorted with a pout of his own.

“Well, it seems you’re all getting along better than I expected!” Rose’s chuckle snapped them back to the task at hand, making them pick up their neglected applications that were left on the ground.

That was...a bit embarrassing to say the least. But at the same time, reminiscing on one of the happier periods of her life, it brought back a youthful cheeriness that she hadn’t felt in years. It felt nostalgic. Refreshing even. Perhaps Leon had that effect on people. His positive and confident aura could pick people back up without needing to say a word.

No wonder he was so loved and looked up to like a King.

Even as the meeting continued without interruption, the Champion couldn’t help but steal a few glances in her direction. Anytime their gazes met, he’d shoot her a toothy grin, which she responded to with a sheepish smile. For what reason she didn’t know, but unlike earlier where she wanted to shrink from his gaze, his occasional glances felt comforting. 

Like a dandelion basking under the sun.

--

“You’re going to be working with Leon?!”

“Mind toning it down, Boss? The whole cafe doesn’t need to know.”

“But, I’m so jealous! If there’s one person I want to battle, it’s Leon!” Richard lamented dramatically as he stocked up the shelves and display cases with more pastries and coffee beans. Juliet leaned against the counter, allowing herself to recover from the end of the lunch rush and pouring herself a cup of tea.

“Maybe you’ll break the record for shortest Pokemon battle-” She said with a smug grin on her face. Her boss threw a dirty rag in her direction out of retaliation, but she caught it easily and tossed it into the sink. Still, she’d love to see such a battle.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take less shifts? Seems like a lot to juggle with being a Field Researcher and a co-host now,”

“It’ll be fine. There’s going to be gaps within each gym for challengers anyway especially since many of them are going to be exploring the Wild Area for the first time. Don’t worry about me, Boss.” Just as Richard opened his mouth to respond, the front door opened with the tell tale jingle of the bell above the door, signalling Juliet to bow politely to welcome the customer as she became accustomed to do as it was second nature.

“Welcome to the Battle Cafe! Are you interested-”

Juliet felt a sudden sense of unease wash over her. Black trench coat, a black baseball cap, dark sunglasses, and a white face mask. Did this man know it was the middle of summer? Or maybe it was a woman? She couldn’t tell how when their trench coat was consuming their body like a black hole. She didn’t mean to judge someone on appearance alone, but even her boss wore a face that told her he was suspicious and nervous too. Swallowing her anxiety, she stuttered,

“A-Are you interested in battling the Cafe Master for a complimentary Casteliastone if you win? Or would you like to make a regular order?”

The man approached the counter, drawing curious eyes to him as he searched through his trench coat for what she presumed to be his wallet. Or worse-

“I’ll take a regular coffee. One milk, one sugar.”

A normal order. Juliet let out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was keeping in. “That will be 250 Pokedollars, please. Can I get a name for the order?”

“...Dande.”

“Thank you, Dande. Your order will be served to the left of you.” As he walked past after giving her an affirmative nod, she could have swore she saw a flash of familiar purple hair from under his hat. She hummed curiously, narrowing her eyes at him to see if he would break under her persistent stare. Even when his head turned away, she could see the beads of sweat that were streaking down his copper skin.

Was it from the heat or her glare? Maybe both.

When she set down his finished drink and he reached out to grab it, she leaned over the counter and whispered, “You know it’s summer, right Leon?”

The man let out an exasperated sigh and lowered his sunglasses enough so she could see his familiar golden eyes. “And here I thought I had a good disguise.”

“Sure, if you want people to think you’re a serial killer or a drug dealer. I think you’re drawing more attention with this disguise than if you didn’t wear it at all.”

Leon laughed nervously at the few weird looks he was getting from the other patrons of the cafe.

“I see your point.”

Juliet rolled her eyes and untied her apron from her waist. It wouldn’t be a good idea for him to go back out into the sweltering heat without cooling down a bit first. She was technically off the clock now, so she’d put him out of his misery. “My shift is done now, but I’ll be hanging around in the back for a bit before going out, Boss.”

She came out from behind from the counter and beckoned Leon to follow her through the ‘Employees Only’ door, where a blast of cool air washed over their bodies. It wasn’t like the cafe itself didn’t have AC, but with the amount of hot drinks that are served and the cool air that escapes through the front door, it was only somewhat cool. Once the door closed, the Champion practically ripped off the trench coat and face mask, sighing with contentment at the AC air cooling the sweat off his neck.

“Thanks, but am I allowed to be back here?”

“It’s fine. Some regular customers like talking to me and when they have bad days, we talk back here on my breaks. My boss already knows and is cool with it especially since they leave big tips.” Juliet looked at his discarded trench coat that he left on the floor. “Just don’t steal anything.”

“Of course not. But, it looks like I’ll have to look into a different disguise.” Leon muttered.

“OR, you could just wear seasonal appropriate clothes like a normal person.”

“I wish I could, but it’s hard going out when you get stopped so often by fans...Not that I mind, it’s just...”

“You just want to be treated like a regular civilian?” Juliet finished for him as she plopped herself down on one of the spare cafe chairs. Leon followed suit and rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed to the floor as if reluctant to admit to himself that, yes, he just wanted to be treated like a normal person instead of someone on top of an impossibly high pedestal.

“Yeah, something like that.”

She didn’t want to push him to reveal anything to her, but she thought it was a fitting opportunity to catch up with Leon in hopes of filling in the missing pieces of her foggy memory. She folded her arms over the table and looked at him with a carefree grin.

“So, how’s your brother? He was pretty small the last time I saw him.”

“He’s doing great! I’m actually going to surprise him and his best friend with their starter Pokemon next week along with endorsement letters for the Gym Challenge by yours truly.” His hesitant demeanour vanished, replaced with bright optimism from talking about his younger brother.

“Oho, looking to dethrone his older brother, huh?” Juliet teased lightly.

“It’s always been a dream of his and I’m excited to see how strong he’ll become. This year’s Gym Challenge is shaping up to be a game changer, I can feel it. Which means I have to train thrice as hard!” The Champion flexed his muscles for added flair, making the barista snort in her hand.

This was the Leon that everyone knew. The Undefeated Champion who answered the calls of anyone who dared challenge him. The Undefeated Champion who pushed himself to the limit, so challengers in turn, could push themselves. It was a wonder how he had so much determination, the courage to reach new heights and be one of the strongest of them all.

Strength...Something Juliet wished she had or at least, the bravery to acknowledge the strength she did have. What was it like? To believe in yourself and have the power to instill courage in everyone else? These were questions she couldn’t ask him, at least not right now.

Whatever the answers to those questions were, she did know one thing – seeing the Champion of Galar give it his all for his family, friends, and fans, to push the boundaries and prove to everyone what he was made of,

She was going to do the same.

Then, hopefully one day, she’ll be able to look at herself in the mirror and say,

“I’m strong and I’m proud of myself.”

“So, you’ve moved to Galar, huh?” Leon noted after taking a sip from his coffee. 

“Yup. That’s partially thanks to Professor Magnolia for hiring my team as Field Researchers after seeing how capable we are in Max Raids.” It was a humble brag, but a brag nonetheless, and she’ll always feel thankful for the opportunity. 

“Chairman Rose filled me in about that and I couldn’t help but watch some of your Raids afterwards. They’re a lot different from competitive battling, but you guys look like you’re having a lot of fun and I’ve learned a lot from just watching.” Leon pulled out his Rotom phone and opened up the recent Raid they did against the Dragapult. 

Ah.

The Dragapult they ended up naming Dragon Lord, much to Magnolia’s amusement.

“This is probably my favourite Raid your team did. As a proud owner of a Dragapult myself, they’re pretty resilient to deal with.”

“You can say that again. Dragon Darts is such a pain.”

“Heh. Viable move when you’re the one using it, though.” Leon’s eye then wandered around the staff room of the Battle Cafe, skimming through the shelves of coffee beans and other stock items. “I guess it doesn’t really surprise me that you’re working here too. You’ve always been a hard worker.”

Juliet grinned gently. He really paid attention to little details about people, huh?

“I thought it would be good to get a side-job to get to know the locals since we didn’t know anyone upon moving here. Ease ourselves into Galar society, you know?”

“And, how’s that working out?”

“Pretty much settled in at this point! Though, I’m still on the fence about using Galarian slang every day like ‘lad’ or ‘mate’...” She grimaced. “...It sounds wrong when I say it.”

“Pft! Of all the things to struggle with. Come on, it can’t be that bad. Try it out on me.” Leon egged her on teasingly, casually leaning his cheek on a propped up hand. 

Seriously? 

Juliet stiffened considerably and her face looked like she sucked on 50 lemons from how scrunched up it was. “H-Hey, mate. H-How’s it going…?”

…

The Champion stifled a snort in his hand, but he couldn’t exactly hide the chuckles that followed right after. He had forgotten how funny and silly she was, enjoying the moment of carefree laughter despite how disapprovingly she glared at him. “I think you should stick with what you’re used to.”

“Haha, laugh it up.”

They hadn’t realized how long they were spending just talking. Getting each other up to speed about what the other had been doing, sharing stories about their travels, talking about their Pokemon – there were no shortages of things to talk about when each conversation jumped from topic to topic, neither Leon or Juliet losing interest in each other's stories.

Only the sound of a cup shattering to the ground could cut through their conversation. Their heads whipped around to see Richard with his jaw dropped, and a broken cup of tea by his feet.

“You were talking to Champion Leon this entire time and didn’t invite me?!”

[nad-zeta]

Hello! Can I get a matchup please? I’m an Aries and I will most certainly not hesitate to kill someone if they deserve it and will speak my mind whether people like it or not. I hate routines, they bore me. I’m impatient and short tempered and I hate being tied down or told what to do. I love reading, listening to music, receiving attention & affection or if i feel like it, going out with my friends. I also love taking on leadership roles and being challenged since I’m very competitive. Tysm! 💞

Match up

Hi there love! Thank you so much for the request! Sorry for taking sooooooo long! I hope you enjoy it dear!❤

So I match you with………………………………. Nobunaga

Oh, you definitely entered into Azuchi with a bang. From the moment you enter the palace, it was evident that you were not happy with being hunted down and caught. You walked into the room, and all eyes were now turned to the strange lady who had saved their lord from the fire. He summoned you to come closer to him. You narrowed your eyes and moved slightly closer, you knew one thing was for sure, and that was that you were not ganna take this man or any other man in this room’s crap. Your death stared Nobunaga. You were having a particularly bad day that day and being sent back in time, and now standing in a room full of strangers was making it worse by the second. Nobunaga, in his usual arrogant voice, proclaimed that you were to be an Oda princess. Like hell, you thought, no way are you ganna be some prissy princess, you were born to lead. You legit told him exactly how you felt, you told him you are not the type of girl who is just ganna sit still and look pretty all day. 

Nobunaga was sooooo amused by you, very few in his lifetime have had the balls to challenge him. And yet here you are guns blazing. The two of you looked at each other challenging, almost fighting for dominance. Finally, after a few moments, Nobunaga smirked at you and then decided to make you the castle new Chatelaine. You couldn’t help the corners of your mouth curling up into a small smile.

You had been so focused on Nobunaga that you had forgotten you were in a room filled with warlords. Who now were each started teasing you in their own way, for being so feisty. Well, all except Hideyoshi. This boy was fuming, if looks could kill you would be dead ten times over. Nobunaga now stood in front of you and started twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. Hideyoshi finally snapped when you “playfully” swatted Nobunaga’s hand away. Hideyoshi drew his sword and had it at your throat, spitting out threats. What he didn’t expect was that you would stand up for yourself and bark out some warnings of your own. TBH Masamune and Ieyasu had to pull the two of you apart cause things were escalating a little too fast. Nobunaga watched the whole scene unfold, wearing the most delightful grin. He could tell that the fireball which he had stumbled on was going to be a lot of fun

You literally challenged Nobunaga every chance you could get. Mind you not that it was intentional, it’s just you hated having someone tell you what to do. You worked in your own time and at your own pace. Somedays, you would clean the castle and stay up late in the night to perform your duties, while other days, you would be up at the crack of dawn delivering messages. You basically got scolded every day by Mamayoshi for not following the set routine. Not that you cared; you honestly hated routine, and you wanted to do things when you felt like doing them. After a while, the people of Azuchi got used to your strange way of thinking and working. No one could fault you on your work or performance as often it was to such a good standard, that you would put those around you to shame. 

You had slowing started making friends with the Oda warlords, and was even invited to their manors for tea on occasion. Nobunaga was especially fond of you. Since working as Chatelaine, you had brought a different kind of energy into the castle, and his sights were now set on you. He summoned you to his room as he does, and before he could use that classic come to bed with me line, you spotted his Go board and pieces. You smiled at him and challenged him to a game. Even though you lost your competitive nature, pushed you to challenge him to a rematch, and so your weekly tournaments of Go started. The two of you got to know each other pretty well through these Go games, and you had low key come to enjoy Nobunaga’s company.

One day you were chilling in war council as you do, when Nobunaga announced that you were to join him on the battlefield to bring him luck and favor with the gods. Cue you literally refusing. “you will come along fireball, end of discussion,” “well, I refuse,” cue Hideyoshi losing his shit. At the end of the day, there was no getting out of the inevitable as you were now sitting on Nobunagas horse marching to the battleground. The two of you conversed in some light conversation, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself relax. Even though Nobunaga was stubborn and commanding at times, you still felt yourself drawn to him. You really enjoyed being challenged and the competitive banter the two of you would engage in at times.

Once you reach the campsite, you decided to take charge of the medical tent. The battle was underway, and you worked hard every day to patch up the injured. In the evenings, you would sit with the Oda force by the campfire and laugh at the funny stories they told.  As the battle progressed, things started looking worse and worse for the Oda forces; they were now facing two threats at the same time. You had only realized the severity of the situation when Mitsunari rode back to camp with his troop. He was severely injured and could barely stand up straight. His troops were now stuck without a commander to lead them into battle, and you truly knew how adverse the consequences of this were. You used to half and half-listen to battle strategies, and you knew Mitsunari played a vital role in the successful execution of these strategies, especially in this battle. 

You were determined and ready, you loved your new friend and would do anything for them. You always fancied taking up the leadership role, so you decided to hand over your duties as head doctor/nurse and mounted up onto Mitsunaris horse. You had already earned your title as princess and Mitsunaris people always adored you, so when you declared that you were going to lead them into battle, they were all too happy but to follow the fireball princess. You gave your best speech and battle cry and was now charging full speed onto the battlefield. You remembered from the many discussions that Mitsunari’s unit was Nobunaga’s backup. You rode, and your blood froze when you saw the sight in front of you. Nobunaga was heavily outnumbered and was also pretty severely injured. You wasted no time as you rode to join his unit, to even out the playing field, barking out orders and treating the whole ordeal like a game of chess or Go. The tide had turned, and thanks to you, and your fearless leadership, the advantage was now back with the Oda forces. The battle ended in the Oda’s being victorious.

You and Nobunaga rode back to camp, with the cheers of the army behind you. The second you got to camp, you commanded Nobunaga to come with you so you could patch him up. You could see the idiot was trying to hide his pain and injury from his troops. As you cleaned and bandaged the wound, you couldn’t help but feel your heartache a little, it hurt to see someone you love so much injured so badly. After you dressed his wound, the two of you now sat in silence. Nobunaga was the first to break it thanking you for your quick thinking and bravery. He had long ago fallen in love with you, and the concept of love, in general, was kind of new to him, so his words came out a bit clumsy. He cupped your cheeks and looked you dead in the eyes and finally confessed his love. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his clumsy words and a slight blush spread across his cheeks. You were but all too happy to return the feelings with a sweet kiss.

Since that day, you were known as the fearless princess, the goddess of victory, a true fireball, and lucky charm to all. Nobunaga honestly loved and adored you so much. He would shower you with affection from the moment the sun rises to the moment it set. He loved that you kept him on his toes and wasn’t afraid to challenge him. You were a truly amazing woman, and he had no problem proclaiming this to all he meets, he would often say that you are his queen, and equal ruling the world by his side.

The two of you can often be found simply spending time with one another. Nobunaga spends every moment of his free time with you. He loves to hold you in his arms and shower you with kisses. You really enjoy sitting on his lap with your head resting on his chest while he is working. During this time, you would usually just sit and read, occasionally dropping a small kiss on his jaw.

Other potential matches...................... Masamune

I hope you enjoyed it, love! And I hope you are staying safe and well! ❤🥰

[creativity-is-rebellion]

Some Things are Not Dialectic

So much has happened to me since I last wrote on this blog. To sum it up in a nutshell: I changed therapists (something I have been meaning to do for a while now), I was hospitalised yet again for just a little over a week this time, voluntarily, for recurrent suicidal thoughts, where I was tentatively diagnosed (yet again) with BPD, and the new therapist I started seeing after coming out of the hospital diagnosed me with Asperger’s. I also started a DBT program, which I am now six weeks into. Previous therapists, if you have read any of my other posts, have diagnosed me with Bipolar I, but after only two sessions with the psychiatrist at the hospital, and in the wake of him talking, at length, with my husband about my history, I was informed that I probably have Bipolar II and BPD. My regular psychiatrist disagrees with this and stated that it is probably complex trauma (or C-PTSD) and Bipolar I. I am inclined to trust the diagnosis of the latter more, as I have been seeing her for two years now. And now I also have an Asperger’s diagnosis from my new psychologist. What a mess. After all these upheavals, I feel emotionally at sea.

I also decided to swap medications at the hospital (the Seroquel was not helping my insomnia and was making me gain a bit of weight) and finally gave Lithium, the supposed “gold standard” of Bipolar medication, a chance. And it made me terribly ill. I was so nauseous all the time that after 4 weeks of struggling along, I had to give it up. I even broke out in a rash, but no professionals, not even my GP, wanted to listen to my misgivings, so I just informed them all that I was coming off it. My psychiatrist respected my decision, but wants to put me on something else. I am reluctant, because I have tried all sorts of medication for extended periods of time, and there are always negative side-effects, or they don’t do what is intended. I was told in the hospital by the psychiatrist that Lithium would be ideal for someone like me who has ambitions, wants a career, and doesn’t want to sleep for 20 hours a day, so when I experienced intolerance, I felt so disappointed. I even spent some time blaming myself. I have found my overall experience with taking medications really draining and time-consuming. I feel as if I am trying, and even doing everything I should, but it’s just not paying off. One method that I have tried in the past on my hospital visit before this one was ECT, and I did find that somewhat effective, but the results were not long-lasting enough. And, after reading about the experiences of those who get regular sessions of ECT, I worry about the possible effects it would have on my long-term memory if I was to go down that route. If there were any negative side-effects within this vein, it would be incompatible with the way in which I want to live my life, including my career goals.

While I was in the hospital, I was referred to a centre that specialised in Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT). I have read about DBT previously, and wanted to try it out when I received a previous diagnosis of Borderline “tendencies” in Norway, however, as I lived in a small town, there were no DBT groups available nearby, and so my therapist gave me a booklet to read up on it on my own. I had also previously stumbled upon the therapist that founded DBT (Marsha Linehan) when I was studying my Bachelor of Psychology. She later admitted that she actually had been diagnosed with BPD herself, and so DBT was a hodge-podge of different therapies and western and eastern practices that had worked for her. I thought the refterral would take longer to process than it did, but it was processed more-or-less straight away after I came out of hospital. I attended the three commitment meetings and was successfully offered a place, and, after all that I had heard and read, was excited to begin. But six weeks in, I feel let down. 

Let me preface what I am about to say by stating that I think there is a lot of good methods to help tackle negative feelings that DBT offers, but a lot of the skills surrounding self-care are competencies I already possess (and so nothing new). There are also some aspects of DBT that are just not really relevant to me specifically, but that’s alright. If I look at it as more tools I can fill my emotional toolbox with, not everything is going to fit. I enjoy and aim for self-improvement, and this is what attracted me to DBT in the first place. On the other hand, I am an analytical person who enjoys testing concepts and seeing if there are any potential flaws in what I am learning, and the method of delivery of the current program I am in doesn’t seem to leave room or space for that. I am finding aspects of DBT condescending, basic, and invalidating. I don’t feel that my prior knowledge or skills are being acknowledged as strengths I am bringing to the table that I can build upon. It is almost as I, along with the rest of the group, am being treated as if I am clueless, and that the therapists and coaches involved in the DBT group sessions are the autocratic, absolute experts on everything we should be doing and what we are doing “wrong,” something that I feel is quite harsh given that most who suffer from BPD also have C-PTSD, or, conversely, that those with C-PTSD can often be misdiagnosed with BPD. After researching some more, I have found that I am not alone in these misgivings. 

I decided to share some of my criticisms just this morning with my individual coach. We met at a cafe near where I live, after I dropped the kids off at school. Towards the end of the session, she asked me directly if I ever felt she had invalidated me in our individual sessions. I decided to be honest and tell her that I had felt that. I have only just started acknowledging past trauma, some of which occurred years ago, to both myself and my therapists. It’s mostly because I feel that it is time to do so, because the thoughts and feelings were coming up more and more regularly, intrusively and involuntarily, to the point where I feel like I can’t ignore them anymore. Three weeks ago, I disclosed to my coach in an individual session about the trauma and sexual abuse I had experienced via school bullying. I told her that she had laughed briefly after I had told her about a boy who had pinched my bottom in front of the whole grade on a dare when I was was 13, and said I didn’t blame her, maybe she laughed out of surprise, but when I also told her that she had, in the same conversation, told me not to worry about “stupid school” (her exact words), she denied having said that to me at all, and got quite defensive. 

She even said that perhaps I had just “experienced it that way,” and just refused to acknowledge that she had said that at all. I felt so gaslighted,so triggered (my mother tried to gaslight me all the time) and am now unsure whether I will continue with DBT. I left really shaken up, which was tough as I had had a really rough week and had actually woken up in a good mood, and had to then work really hard to turn my thoughts back around again. Upon reflection, I think the coaches are badly trained and unprofessional. This might be what is making the delivery sub-par. Maybe it’s just yet another case of “you get what you pay for.” Now, the question is, do I continue, and just try to focus on implementing the skills, instead of worrying about my obvious personality clash with the therapists and coaches involved? Sigh.

Now, to address the Asperger’s diagnosis: I actually feel it is a good fit. She got in an expert who took me through the diagnostic criteria before giving me the diagnosis, and, for the first time in a long time, I felt validated. I have been doing a lot of reading since receiving my diagnosis, and have found a number of interesting facts about females with Asperger’s, such as they are more likely to be overlooked for diagnosis compared to that of boys, as they do not present with the same symptoms, and are often misdiagnosed with (interestingly) Bipolar, BPD, or even OCD, because it was (until recently) considered a diagnosis exclusively reserved for boys. They are overlooked because they tend to be great social mimics (as females generally are more socialised than men), which masks the symptoms and difficulties females with ASD face. I believe that one of the reasons for my life-long fascination with human behaviour (to the point that I decided to study it), is due to my desire to fit in, when I have always felt different. I have, as my husband has also observed, a number of special interests that I enjoy talking about at length in social settings, and often fail to pick up on the social cues of boredom in the individuals I am talking to. But, that’s alright. It is part of the diagnosis. I am working on it. I might not ever get there, but that is alright too. In my research on the subject, I found a delightful blog from Tania Marshall, as well as her book, entitled “I am Aspien Woman,” which discusses the unique struggles of females with Asperger’s. The blurb to the book states: “Have you ever wondered about a friend, a partner, a mother, sister or daughter? Wondered why she says she feels 'different'? Out of step with her peers, she may struggle keeping friends and a job, yet she has multiple degrees. Bright from early on, she may have singleminded focus, sprinkles of anxiety, sensory and social issues, be gifted in art, writing, science, research or singing. Maybe she is a woman on the Autism spectrum, with a unique constellation of super-abilities, strengths and challenges?” I relate to all of this. I was a precocious reader with an eidetic memory from an early age. I have multiple degrees, and am creative, but struggle in social situations. It’s who I am, and I accept it. When I told my GP, who also closely follows my mental health progress, that my current psychologist has diagnosed me with Asperger’s, she dismissively stated that “everybody is different - we are all on the spectrum” - to which I have to say - what a load of crap. There is different, and there is different. I have always been a person that marches to the beat of her own drum, sometimes to my detriment. But it’s just how I am.

So, what if I don’t have BPD, or Bipolar, but rather “just” Asperger’s? I am high-functioning, so I can understand that it took a long time to identify it, but, on the other hand, it feels as if going through all of the struggles I have been through could have been prevented if only I had had a therapist that was skilled enough to really listen to me, to pick up the signs, and to validate me. I am hoping I have that now with my current psychologist, and am looking forward to working together with her toward a brighter future where I can accept myself and also work on my issues in a safe space.

After years of not sharing my thoughts or being as assertive as I want to be, I have found that recently I have been coming out of my shell in this respect, and those around me aren’t liking it. Apart from the example above, on the day I was leaving the hospital, there were a series of delays concerning my release, that, when they all added up, frustrated me so much, I had to say something. I sometimes think that those in the so-called “caring” professions abuse their power. Whether it’s bad training, an authoritative personality, or other traits that are, in my opinion, not suited to these professions that are the cause, it is a dilemma which is vital to address. Of course, #notalltherapists. But, in my long-standing experience with mental health services, and as a psychology graduate myself, it is enough to cause concern. Too often, patients are discounted because of what’s wrong with them, dismissed because the health professional believes themselves to know better, or put into the “too hard” basket for so-called “difficult” behaviour. But what needs to be acknowledged is that the person that is standing in front of them is there because they are seeking help, and should be looked at as an individual, and not necessarily by the box the therapist wants to fit them into. More duty of care, more empathy, and more acknowledgement, is needed.

[livingthroughchoices-blog]

The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 2.4: Flirting With Disaster)

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Author’s notes: Hey guys! This one’s a little shorter and a little angstier. Hope you like it! As always thanks to everyone who reads, comments and reblogs, it really means the world to me! Special thanks to: @starstruckzonkoperatorbat, @notoriouscs, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty, @mirivalencia, @mymandrake, @asobigokoro2018, @krisnicjack, @fabi-en-ciel, @gotmanychoicesyo, @redwaygal, @zorjastar-blog,@emceesynonymroll and @thewalkerway for asking me to tag them! 

Also, idk if Read More tags are working on mobile again, but if they’re not, you can block the tag “the marshmallow chronicles” and you should be good (:

Rating: T

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 3,991

A country picnic. Never had two words been so deceiving. Two words for things Drake loved separately, and even more so together, stripped of their meaning and turned into a frilly, fussy, canapé-filled circus. 

He plodded downstairs, feeling as excited about the event as he would having his entire body waxed. 

“There you are!”

Uh oh. Throughout his life he’d found that those words almost never preceded something enjoyable. Worse, although he could only make out the person’s silhouette, framed by the light streaming in from the open door, he recognized Maxwell’s voice immediately.

“What d’you want?”

“We’re having a dance-off!”

Maxwell had barely got the words out when Drake replied, “Absolutely not.”

“I’m just kidding, Hana’s having a dance-off with Madeleine.”

“Okay, is this a really weird dream? Is Bertrand about to barge in riding a giraffe?”

“First of all, I’m definitely going to have to hear about that dream later, but no, it’s all part of our genius plan.”

The sense of foreboding was back, but Drake’s brain seemed to think it was too early to try make sense of Maxwell’s hijinks. “Explain.”

“To find out who framed Riley! Hana’s challenging Madeleine as a distraction so she can slip away from the party and investigate!”

“Okay… I guess it’s not the worst thing you could come up with. I’m surprised you’re not upset that Hana’s doing the dancing, though.”

“Drake, I am ADULT. Why would I be–?”

“You already had a tantrum about it, didn’t you?”

“I wanted to do iiit,” Maxwell pouted. 

Drake put his arm around his friend’s head and pulled him down for a noogie. “I know, I know, shhh, shhh, shhh…” he cooed, still holding a struggling Maxwell. 

With his friend’s punches coming hard and fast, Drake finally loosened his grip on him and Maxwell managed to extricate himself, glaring at him. He hmphd and straightened his shirt, looking remarkable like his uptight brother for a second. Drake bit his tongue to keep himself from saying it; that would probably cause Maxwell to have an identity crisis.   

Laughing quietly, Drake put a relaxed arm on Maxwell’s shoulders, who tensed for a moment, fearing a second attack. “Come on, I’m sorry. Let’s go see Hana’s moves.”

Maxwell clapped his back – perhaps a bit more forcefully than usual – and walked out to the garden with him.

It looked much like Madeleine’s had on Riley’s first day back. It really struck Drake how homogenous nobles liked things to be; it was always some slight variation on the same thing: white ornate tent with pastel-colored accents, elaborately set tables with towering stacks of tiny food that looked more suitable for photographing than for eating, colorful flowery dresses and ridiculous hats for the women and elegant suits for the men. 

And yet, to Drake, among the sea of sameness, one person stood out, as always. He knew logically that there wasn’t anything particularly different about Riley; she was beautiful, of course, but she was by no means the only beautiful woman in attendance. Her dress was bright and flattering, but so were many others. Even her smile, pretty as it was, could be compared to others there. 

But that was not how he felt. Every move of her hands as she talked, every small gesture of her face made her infinitely more interesting than anybody else there. He’d familiarized himself with everything about her so thoroughly that at this point, he could guess what she was talking about just based on the way her hands and her mouth moved. As he came closer and started being able to catch snatches of what she was saying, he found that he could even predict the kind of movements she’d make as she told a story of a night out back in New York. 

What the fuck have I become. 

It was almost routine to ask this question of himself now, and he realized he was dangerously close to not caring at all. In fact, he was smiling as he approached her and tapped her shoulder, sorry to interrupt her story, but excited to be the one talking to her.

As she turned, he leaned in a little more appropriately than he had the day before and muttered, “Hey, Addams. Hana. Maxwell, er, caught me up on the plan. Now might be a good time...”

She nodded and took his hand to lead him away from the crowd. He took a second to acknowledge Hana, which he had forgotten to do in his scrutiny of Riley. He could always count on Hana to understand, though, as she smiled at him as sweetly as usual. 

“Oh! Right! I’ll... be right back. I just remembered something I really must speak to Madeleine about.” Hana winked at them, although her cheeks were looking rather pink. 

The things we do for this girl. 

Riley gave her a thumbs up and started making her way out of the tent with Drake in tow. Trying to follow her in her haste, Drake bumped into someone, making him let go of Riley’s hand. Seeing Drake stuck behind, she tried to make her way back to him, but she was being blocked by a couple deep in conversation.

Lady Kiara’s smile lit up her graceful face. “Drake, I’m surprised to see you here.”

It was the kind of event he would customarily have skipped…

Things really have changed these past few months, he thought, catching a whiff of Riley’s perfume as he joined him.

“Me, too. But I try to support Liam when I can.”

Ha! Is that what we’re calling it?

Kiara took a step closer to him. “You’ve always been such a good friend to him.” She reached out and let her hand rest on his arm. He noticed Riley’s eyes dart down at Kiara’s hand. “It’s part of why I always liked you. It’s such a shame what happened to your sister.”

With a flash of guilt, he realized he hadn’t been thinking about Savannah much lately, and as much as he tried to justify himself – I need to find out who’s framing Addams! – he couldn’t deny that he had practically given up on finding her. Still, it had been a while since anybody else mentioned her; even Liam hadn’t asked anything lately, so he smiled at Kiara with a swell of affection.

Riley, on the other hand, was not smiling. In fact, her eyes had narrowed and she’d crossed her arms defensively. “Wait... You’ve always liked Drake? Could have fooled me.”

Kiara’s face was stony. “Not all of us wear our hearts on our sleeves.”

For once, Drake could not be any less interested in their interaction. Savannah now at the forefront of his mind, he cast his memory back, trying to remember any friendship shared between her and Kiara. He furrowed his brow in concentration. “Back up a second... I didn’t know that you and Savannah spent time together.”

Kiara’s face took on a more neutral expression, but there was still something guarded about it. “Not much, really. It’s just she was so friendly. And she was coming along so well in her French lessons, and I was surpri–”

“French lessons?” Drake interrupted, “Savannah didn’t speak French.”

“I was teaching her before–”

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a loud, thumping bass, which had replaced the gentle string music coming from the speakers around the tent. 

Drake vaguely heard Hana’s flute-like voice and Madeleine’s clipped tones and knew the challenge was being issued. He could not have cared less, his eyes had not left Kiara’s for a moment, silently urging her to go on and make herself heard over the din. She opened her mouth to speak, but something behind Drake seemed to catch her attention; it was only then that Drake felt his arm being tugged at. Riley was heading back through the crowd, trying to exit the tent. 

She turned her head back and whisper-shouted, “Pssttt. Drake, that’s our cue.”

Drake remained immobile, although Riley was using her entire body weight to pull on his arm, which felt like it might dislocate. “Wait, I need to talk to Kia–”

“There’s no time, we have to go while no one is looking!” With an unexpectedly powerful tug, she made him stumble, leaving him no choice but to follow her. 

Before he could even process what was happening, they were out in the garden, and they’d caught a security guard’s eye. Riley’s hand took off, along with the rest of her. With one last regretful look back at the tent, he followed her behind a hedge. 

“Lost him,” he panted. His relief was short-lived, though, as he registered what had happened. “Hey, what the hell, Addams?”

He couldn’t remember ever being this annoyed at her, not even when they’d first met. 

Riley’s exhilarated smile was instantly wiped from her face, a blank look on it instead. “What?”

“You heard me. I was talking to Kiara and you just–”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you were talking to Kiara.” Her voice dripped with venom as her face reddened. “I really should be more considerate, huh? Just watch as you two flirt right in front of me.”  

Drake’s mouth fell open. He was so outraged he couldn’t form words. “Wh–? How–? I can’t believe you–”

“Look, if it makes you feel better, you can go right back to your mademoiselle as soon as we’re done here. I’m sorry helping me is such an inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience?!” Drake roared, fiery anger shaking him out of his speechlessness. “What the fuck! You know better than anyone how committed I am to figuring this out.” He lowered his voice; it became deceptively calm, though it trembled slightly. “And as for flirting, you’re one to talk, Lady Riley.” 

Riley’s nostrils flared. He noticed her eyes becoming watery with a savage satisfaction that he knew even then would come back to bite him in the ass later, yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret his cruel words. 

How could his so-called flirting with Kiara – he wouldn’t even call it flirting – be more important to her than his sister? She knew how much Savannah meant to him. He’d been certain if anyone could understand, it was Riley. And if he’d been mistaken about that… 

The idea of Riley not being who he thought she was proved too painful to contemplate for long, so he brought himself to look at her. Hot tears were spilling from her eyes and she stared at the ground fixedly enough to bore holes in it. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him defiantly. It was clear they weren’t sad tears, or at least not entirely. She was the picture of fury. She opened her mouth and he flinched in anticipation, when Maxwell poked his head around the hedge and motioned for them to follow him.  

Through a brief look, they agreed to put this fight – I can’t believe we’re fighting – on pause. They followed Maxwell around the garden to a spot just below Riley’s window.

“Where’s Bertrand?” she asked.

Maxwell nodded towards her room. “I sent him up to your room to stand in for you. I relayed everything that happened, so he’ll know where to go.”

“Bertrand is going to stand in for me?” Despite her red-rimmed eyes Riley sniggered. 

“Little known fact, before he was Duke Ramsford, Bertrand was an accomplished human statue.”

At any other time, Drake would’ve been the first one to appreciate a good old-fashioned Bertrand-is-not-a-human-being joke, but he was not in the mood. 

“What?” Riley also seemed a bit exasperated with Maxwell, which was unlike her. 

Thankfully, Maxwell’s poor observational skills kept his feelings intact. Or maybe he was just used to people being annoyed at him. “Kidding! But he will do almost anything to clear your name.”

“Alright Addams,” said Drake, looking everywhere but at Riley, “where do you think we should start?”

Gazing up at her window, she replied, “We should try to line up the shot.”

Maxwell handed Drake a professional-looking camera – not that he knew anything about photography – and checked his phone. “Looks like Bertrand is ready.”

Drake put the camera up to his left eye. He instantly came to the conclusion that they were too far away; he could barely make out Bertrand’s silhouette in Riley’s window. “This angle doesn’t look right. I think we’d have to be standing over there to get the right view.”

He pointed to the small garden that framed the manor’s entrance, and the other two followed him there.

Looking up at her bedroom, Riley said, “I can see right into my bedroom from here!” Momentarily forgetting their argument in her eagerness to confirm her theory, Riley turned to him, extending her arm, “Drake, hand me the camera.” 

She stared through it, craning her neck, then lowered it with a grimace. “Too low, Even someone seven feet tall couldn’t have taken this.”

The answer came to Drake in a flash, “They must have climbed the tree!” A tall tree stood almost directly under Riley’s window. It looked perfect for climbing, too, with its thick limbs and scarce foliage. 

Riley let out a resigned sigh, “I guess that means I’m climbing a tree...”

She whipped the camera around her neck, pulling her hair up then letting it cascade down so that Drake caught a whiff of her perfume. 

Why does she have to smell so good when I’m mad at her? 

She climbed the tree with ease, as if this was something she did every day although in all likelihood she hadn’t done it in months, if not years. Drake allowed himself to be begrudgingly impressed. 

At one point, her right foot slipped off a branch, but before he had time to freak out, she’d hauled herself up with disproportionate upper body strength.

Fuck me. Can she stop being cool for a second? 

He deliberately kept his face as blank as possible, willing himself not to show any hint of a smile or even approval. He was mad, goddammit, and he was going to stay mad. 

Maxwell made no such effort to hide his enthusiasm, yelling up at her, “Go Spider-Riley!”

Riley’s self-satisfied smile made Drake roll his eyes. 

She reached near the top of the tree and installed herself on a stable branch before raising the camera to her face. “It’s a perfect match!” She let the camera hang from her neck and turned to look down at them thoughtfully, “This is really close to the Manor...”

Drake nodded, “Whoever did it must have been at the party.”

“More than that, it means whoever did it must have been waiting around for the right shot. I mean... I’m literally up a tree. Whoever took those pictures wasn’t just standing around and happened to see... they were waiting.”

The implications of what she said dawned on Drake. “They knew Tariq would be in your room, which means it was definitely a set up and the photographer was in on it. And whoever hired the photographer must have known the manor pretty well to know about the view from this spot.”

The suspect list was getting smaller and smaller; it had to be someone who met all of those criteria and was high enough on the food chain to make Bastien uneasy. Short of Liam, Drake couldn’t think of anyone else who fit that description and had something to gain out of this, so he figured the other suitors would have to remain suspects even if there was something that wasn’t entirely convincing to him about that hypothesis.

His musings were interrupted by Riley asking, “Maxwell, didn’t you say that a reporter snuck into the party that night?”

“Yeah. A bold move, considering it was a private event...”

“We need to confirm if the reporter you saw is the same one who climbed the tree and took the photo,” said Drake.

“Right. Now I’ll go get Bertrand and meet you back here.”

Maxwell made to leave when Riley called out, “Can’t you just text him?”

Drake wondered if she was as desperate as he was not to be left alone, just the two of them. 

“Think, Riley!” Maxwell tapped his temple with his index finger. “What if they’re monitoring the airwaves?”

He ran off without another word, not giving Drake a chance to point out he’d texted Bertrand only a few minutes ago. A heavy, charged silence descended on them.

We might as well get this over with. Fuck it, let’s fight.

He didn’t really feel like yelling his arguments up at the tree, though, so he prompted her, “You coming down, Addams?”

Riley had been gazing at her window, and when she turned to him, her face had softened, “Yeah, just thinking about how you came to my rescue that night.”

So, she was extending an olive branch.

He allowed himself a low chuckle. “I think I remember you coming to my rescue.”

She shrugged with a tentative smile. “Maybe a little.” Her smile faded, but her face remained open. “Drake I… I just wanted to say thank you.”

Before he could harden his heart, he’d blurted out, “It was nothing, Addams. Really.” Because it was. It was nothing compared to what he’d do for her. She didn’t even have to ask. 

She shook her head vehemently. “It wasn’t nothing. Not to me.” Her voice was thick with tears and Drake felt himself teeter on the edge of letting his anger go. 

But no. He couldn’t. How could she be so grateful for such a small action and yet not show him the same decency when it came to something that mattered so much to him? How could she have such a double standard when it came to his flirting with Kiara and her flirting with Liam? Did she really care so little about his feelings? Was she just using him to play with? To have some fun before becoming queen? Everything inside him rebelled against the idea of Riley being a selfish, careless person. He hadn’t known her for that long, but he knew with a certainty that shocked him that he hadn’t been wrong about her. That she absolutely was the amazing person that had changed his whole perspective on life. He knew this at his core. But then why? 

He cleared his throat and turning his back to her he said, “Well... uh... get down from there, before you hurt yourself.”

He resisted the urge to help her hop down and walked towards Maxwell and Bertrand, who were hurrying out the manor. He had only refrained from helping Riley because he was positive she wouldn’t need it in the first place – even if he normally would have offered anyway. A couple of beats went by, however, and he hadn’t heard her come down, so he turned to check on her in spite of himself. She was staring intently at something stuck on a branch. Feeling his eyes on her, she took whatever she found and landed gracefully on the ground, clutching it. He hastily continued walking, not wanting her to catch up, although she was obviously avoiding that, too. 

“I might have found something. Look,” said Riley as she joined the group.

They all looked down at black security pass encased in protective plastic. They could read Mansingh in sleek white letters.

“Mansingh?” He knew he’d heard the name before, but he couldn’t place it. 

Maxwell snapped his fingers. “It’s the company they used for security at the party. Super high-tech.” Of course! Drake remembered Bastien mentioning them a few months ago, when he was considering hiring them for another event. “Turn it over!”

The other side was caked in dirt, but the faint outline of the badge’s owner was visible. Maxwell promptly wiped it off with his sleeve.

Bertrand was outraged. “Maxwell, you’re making a mess! What would father say?” 

Maxwell let out a mirthless laugh. “The great Barthelemy Beaumont always had a lot to say about me.”

Putting a hand on Maxwell’s arm, Riley gave him an encouraging smile. “In this case, I think he’d at least be pleased that we’re making progress towards clearing the house name.”

“Perhaps,” Bertrand conceded. They examined the pass; a cool, professional-looking woman stared back at them, expressionless. “That must be the reporter! How did she get her hands on a Mansingh security badge?”

“She must have had help from the inside. Someone who could get her security clearance to a private party,” said Riley.

“Probably whoever hired her,” chimed in Drake, his brain in overdrive. “This badge must’ve given her access to the grounds, but when she was spotted taking pictures at a closed event...”

“Her ruse was uncovered and she was ejected,” Bertrand said.

“She could’ve lost the badge in the branches here, or tried to toss it away so no one knew how deep the conspiracy ran. Does it say who she is?” Drake asked.

“There’s something written beneath her picture, but it’s damaged…” Riley brought the pass closer to her eyes, peering at it with a concentration Drake normally would have found cute… Okay, he definitely still thought it was cute, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “I can’t read it.”

“But at least we have a real clue. We’ll investigate further. Good work…” Bertrand gave them what, to him, qualified as a smile, yet his lips barely moved. “With the picnic ending, we should get packed for our departure on the engagement tour tomorrow.”

Bertrand and Maxwell strode back to the manor. As Riley turned to leave he recalled his theory from the day before. He hesitated; he didn’t really feel like to talking right now, but this was bigger than any fight they could have and two heads would be better than one. 

He jogged up next to her and planted himself in front of her. Her eyebrows knitted and her arms crossed, her expression guarded; she clearly thought he was there to argue.

“Wait, do you have a minute? I just thought of something important.”

Her face relaxed. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking, Addams... this isn’t the first set of photos someone has tried to turn against you.”

“You mean the ones from the bachelor party? The ones you and Bastien kept from going to print?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s a coincidence either.”

Riley nodded. This they could agree on, at least. “Did you ever find out who did it?”

 “I have hunches, but nothing conclusive.” It was stupid not to tell her what he suspected, he knew it was, but he didn’t want to give up all his information just yet. If he was honest with himself, he withheld it out of spite. Though if he was even more honest – and he definitely did not care to be – a deep, pathetic part of him was hoping he could solve it himself. Be her hero in a way that Liam, who was too close to the scandal, couldn’t be. Good thing he wasn’t feeling honest.

Riley frowned, deep in thought. “A maid from the manor revealed that a disguised noble lady told her to pull a prank on Tariq the night the pictures were taken.”

“Hmmm…” So one of the suitors was involved. Well, his theory took that into account… maybe a suitor and some other, higher-ranked noble? Hell, some of the suitors’ parents were pretty important, though he didn’t really understand the hierarchy. 

“There might be a connection between the noble lady, the bachelor photos, and this photographer. Either way, this conspiracy goes deeper than we thought. Just…” He took one step closer to her, momentarily forgetting his irritation and let his hand ghost over her cheek. Her thunderstruck eyes shone with relief. Did she think I could just stop caring about her? The thought was enough to bring out a grim smile. “Be careful, Addams.”

[sapphicscholar]

For the high school AU, how about Sanvers celebrating some kind of milestone in their relationship (6 month anniversary, etc.) and having a nice date? Ooh, and there's a solar eclipse next week so maybe Maggie and Alex can do something special together since Alex loves Astonomy.

Sanvers High School AU Part 11 - Posted on AO3 as well

A/N: This one jumped the queue because timeliness. So enjoy and remember, if you’re going to look up at the eclipse, make sure you’re wearing certified glasses! And excuse any mistakes on California geography…I had to make some guesses about where Midvale might be.

A/N 2: This exists in the same high school AU universe as all of the rest, save for the party ones, but we’re jumping forward a bit in time to the summer after graduation (last we saw these two, they were checking out colleges together in Chapters 64 and 68). Since they got together pretty early in the school year, they’re closer to a year than any kind of 6 month anniversary, but we’ll have them celebrating their last week together before leaving for college.

Chapter Text

“And you’ll be safe?” Eliza asked, looking sternly at Alex.

“Yes, Mom,” Alex promised for what felt like the twentieth time that day. “It’s only going to be for one night.”

“You know I have to worry; it’s my job.”

“I know,” Alex finally relented. “But I promise, we’ll be back tomorrow night. And we’re only a couple of hours away if you need anything.”

“And you’ll watch out for your sister?”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Kara announced, bounding down the stairs and landing next to Alex, her duffel bag already packed and ready.

“I know, dear,” Eliza sighed. “Now when are James and Maggie getting here?”

As if on cue, a loud knock on the door echoed through the living room. “I’ll get it!” Kara yelled, bounding to the door and swinging it open to reveal Maggie and James standing together with matching grins.

“Hey, Little Danvers,” Maggie waved, stepping inside as James gave Kara a kiss hello. “Good morning, Eliza!”

“Good morning, Maggie. Are you all packed and ready?”

“Yep, our backpacks and camping gear are already loaded in James’ car,” Maggie answered, reaching out to help Alex carry her things out as well.

Once they got everything packed into the trunk and after one more round of goodbyes and promises to be safe to Eliza, they were off. Alex didn’t even fight Kara for shotgun, content to snuggle with Maggie in the backseat, even if it meant Kara got to control the music for the entirety of the trip.

“So, how excited are you for the eclipse tonight?” James asked, looking in the rearview mirror at Alex, their resident astronomy nerd.

“Very,” Alex answered. “I mean, it’d be cooler if Mom would have let us go up to Oregon to be in the path of totality, but at least we’re getting out far enough away from the light pollution of the cities and towns that it should seem pretty dark.”

“You leave for Stanford this week, Alex,” Kara reminded her sister, craning back to look at her.

“Yes, and I’m already packed.”

“Still, I’m sure she just wants to spend time with you,” Maggie chimed in. “Plus, now you have all that extra time to help me pack.”

“Ugh, fine,” Alex relented, sighing dramatically, even though she knew that Maggie’s aunt was working extra shifts that week to be able to take time off to drive Maggie up to National City University to help her move into the honors dorms and go to the Parent’s Weekend events, which meant that she and Maggie would probably do a lot more making out than packing.

“So, Alex was telling me this is the first time this has happened since the 70s,” Kara told James.

“1979,” Alex chimed in from the backseat, though she sat back, knowing she had already told them all pretty much everything she knew.

“Mhm,” Kara nodded. “And did we all remember our glasses?”

“I’ve got ours packed,” Alex told Maggie. “And I gave you yours,” she said, looking at Kara.

“I know, I’ve got them,” Kara said.

“And I’ve got mine,” James noted. “Now, do we want to play some games to pass the journey?”

Two hours of carpool karaoke, I Spy, 20 Questions, and a rather limited round of Truth or Dare later, they got to the campsite and quickly made their way to the space they had reserved at the top of the hill, right in the middle of one of the larger clearings—a space Alex assured them she had pre-vetted and would be perfect for their late afternoon viewing time for the eclipse.

“Do we race for setting up the tents?” Kara asked, arching an eyebrow in challenge at Alex.

“May the best couple win,” Alex added, offering her hand out in a bet to Kara, even as both James and Maggie shook their heads and rolled their eyes. “And no cheating, Kara,” Alex added, looking pointedly at her sister, who shook her head; she knew to be careful about using her powers out in public.

But, once the games began, neither Maggie nor James was willing to lose, so they all took off, quickly claiming their spots as they got to work on the tents.

“Pole!” Alex yelled, holding out a hand as Maggie fumbled in their bag.

“Base first!” Kara yelled to James, who had started trying to build the frame.

“I don’t know why this stupid stake won’t go into the ground,” Maggie grumbled, trying to put all of her weight into her effort and getting nowhere.

“You might have hit a root system,” Alex suggested, feeling rather proud of herself for not snapping, even if it did look like Kara and James might win. “Here, let me help.”

“Thanks,” Maggie muttered, wiping the sweat off her forehead and the back of her neck as she stepped back to let Alex take over. She had intended to start working on the frame while Alex got the stakes into the ground, but then Alex looked so good—her muscles being put to work as she got a little sweaty.

“Want a hand? Need someone to spot you?” Maggie flirted, her hands wrapping around Alex’s waist.

Clearing her throat, Alex turned around in Maggie’s arms. “If you want somewhere to do anything tonight, you’ll get your butt in gear and help me win this bet.”

“Roger that,” Maggie sighed, turning back to the bag of equipment that would theoretically create their dwelling for the night.

After another half hour or so, Kara gleefully called out, “We win!”

“Ugh, whatever, if we didn’t have trouble with the stakes, we totally would have won,” Alex grumbled, working with Maggie to secure the last of their anchors.

“At least it was a respectable second, Danvers,” Maggie tried comforting Alex, patting her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, second out of two. Now let’s get everything in our tents so we’re all ready in plenty of time for the eclipse.”

—

“Wow,” Maggie sighed, relaxing into Alex’s chest as they both watched the moon slowly slide in front of the sun, blocking out all but a small sliver of it as a premature night fell on the campground.

“Thanks for being here,” Alex whispered as she hugged Maggie closer. As amazing as the experience would have been no matter what, it felt that much better to be seeing it with Maggie in her arms.

“Wouldn’t miss it, Danvers.”

And they were both too wrapped up in each other, in the moment, to notice Kara making silent “aww” noises and pointing at them until James finally got the hint and snapped a few pictures of them in addition to the eclipse.

Alex insisted on sitting through the whole experience, even as the sun gradually reemerged—only to set what felt like moments later—while Kara and James eventually got up to go find a few more good sticks to get the fire going again.

“You two lovebirds ready to help make dinner?” Kara called from the fire she and James had finally got going.

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex called back, kissing Maggie’s cheek before finally dragging herself up and stretching. “What’s for dinner?”

“Hot dogs – and don’t worry, we got plenty of veggie ones for you, Maggie,” Kara answered, beaming at Maggie.

“Could I get one of those too?” Alex asked.

“Really?” James laughed, never knowing Alex to choose the vegan option unless Maggie had cooked for her.

“I don’t need food poisoning,” Alex shuddered, earning a glare from Kara and a knowing laugh from James.

“I suppose we don’t all have Kara’s stomach of steel,” he mused.

“You’re all just jealous,” Kara huffed, helping James to get the hot dogs set up on their small campfire grill.

While Kara and James took care of cooking the hot dogs, Maggie helped Alex to mix up a pitcher of lemonade and find a few good sticks for cooking their (vegan) marshmallows later.

—

While they sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows, the conversation shifted from the scary stories they’d been telling (much to Kara’s disappointment) to the three seniors’ discussing the classes they’d signed up for, the dorms they’d been assigned to, their future roommates, and their fears about college. Knowing how close Alex would be made the conversation a bit easier on Kara, though she was still sad thinking about how lonely Midvale High would feel the following year without all of them, especially with James flying all the way across the country to go to school in Metropolis.

“So, what class are you most excited about and which one are you dreading?” James asked the group, knowing that Kara also had a bit of flexibility in her schedule as an upperclassman.

“I’m really excited about my journalism elective with Ms. Grant,” Kara offered.

“With your big teacher crush, you mean,” Alex teased.

“Whatever,” Kara huffed. “And I’m not looking forward to…hmm…oh, my math class. I hear Mr. Lauren is so boring.”

“Ugh, he really is,” James sighed, feeling himself getting sleepy at the memory. “I actually got into an elective on newsroom ethics that they’re offering in light of, well, you know, everything going on. I think it’ll be great!”

“Mhm, one day you’re totally gonna win the Pulitzer or something,” Kara gushed, letting her head drop to James’ shoulder.

Chuckling, James just shook his head. “It’s sweet that you believe in me, but let’s not get too excited just yet.”

“Whatever, you’ll see,” Kara teased. “Now what are you dreading?”

“I’m taking an international relations course with a professor who’s apparently pretty awful,” James sighed. “Hopefully the readings will be interesting enough to make up for it. What about you, Alex? Maggie?”

“To be honest, I’m kind of dreading the required gen-chem course. I mean, I like chemistry, but I feel like it’s going to repeat so much of what we did in AP Chem. It’s literally the same textbook. And it’s a huge lecture course that’s just for weeding people out of pre-med.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” James commiserated.

“It’s whatever. I’m getting to take an astrobiology seminar that should be amazing enough to make up for it!”

“Very cool!” Maggie exclaimed, loving how enthusiastic Alex got about her classes. “I’m taking this course in the Philosophy Department on the ethics of criminal law that sounds amazing! The professor worked as a prosecutor for a long time and did some pro bono defense work before going back to school for a PhD in Philosophy, and so she apparently has really great insights into it from both sides. And I’m dreading my French class. I’m just not great at learning new languages.”

“You’ve already speak two fluently, though, don’t you?” Kara asked.

“Yeah, but my aunt wants me to have a third,” Maggie explained.

“Oh, okay,” Kara nodded.

—

After a bit of stargazing, the two couples gradually made their way to the tents for the night. “Want to zip our sleeping bags together?” Alex suggested, not really wanting to be so separated from Maggie just yet.

“Sounds good,” Maggie replied with a grin, helping Alex to get their bags zipped together and giggling as she had to hunch over to change into her pajamas and not hit her head on the tent.  

Once they were finally settled, Alex let herself be pulled closer to Maggie. “I’m gonna miss you this year,” Alex finally whispered.

“I’ll miss you too, but we’re not that far away.”

“I know,” Alex admitted. “Still, it’ll be different not to see you everyday, not to eat lunch with you and take classes with you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about Stanford!”

“I know, I get it,” Maggie assured Alex, her voice soft and low. “I’ll miss you like crazy too. But I think we’re both doing what’s best for us, you know?” And she knew they were. They’d gone over their pro/con lists together, had compared all the different ways it could play out. But at the end of the day, Maggie could go to NCU pretty much for free, and their programs were better suited to her interests, while Alex already had professors at Stanford itching to have her working in their labs, and they did more in the fields she wanted to pursue.

“Yeah, I get that.” After a pause, Alex asked, her voice exceptionally quiet, “You won’t forget me, will you?”

“What? Alex, no, never,” Maggie insisted, propping herself up on her elbows to better look at Alex. “I could never forget you.”

“I mean, you’re going to a brand new place. Maybe you’ll find someone cooler, you know? And that’d be okay. I want you to be happy. But I don’t want to lose you as a friend too.”

“Alex, I love you. And you are my best friend and a huge dork and perfect for me, okay? Plus, you think I don’t worry about all of the brilliant nerds you’re going to find at Stanford?”

“You have no reason to worry, Maggie. You’re smart and driven and beautiful; no one is going to compare.”

“You’re such a sap, Danvers.”

“You started it.”

“Mm, maybe I should finish it too,” Maggie mused, leaning over and letting her lips find Alex’s as they cuddled together, holding each other tightly and letting their lips and hands tenderly map out each other’s bodies until the sun rose.  

[nerdanel01]

DWC: Bajulate - character/pairing of your choice.

this prompt is ages old I am so sorryok here it is, the Sleeping Beauty/Snow White AU no one asked for, for @dadrunkwritingBruisesSolas x Lavellan | SFW | Post “All New, Faded for Her”

When he had said, “I need some time alone,” this was not what she had thought he had meant.

After a long afternoon of clearing out one of those terrible Orlesian fortifications, she arrived back at camp with Cassandra and Cole ready to strip off her clothes (which smelled far too much like undead) and collapse into the warmth of her bedroll. But before she could succumb to the sweet bliss of sleep, Cole’s voice pierced through the quiet of the night like a trumpet.

“Solas is back!”

She frowned, crawled her way to the front of the tent she shared with Cassandra and peeked her head out the front of it. “What?”

“He has come back!” Cole cooed, excitedly. “He is here in the tent!”

“Oh,” Lavellan said, simply. That had certainly taken less time than she thought. But if Solas was content enough with the time he had taken to process his grief to return to their camp, she wasn’t going to question it. His help had been sorely missed that afternoon. They planned to storm Fort Revasan tomorrow, and they could use the extra magic power. “Good.”

She had fallen asleep all the more comforted for it, and thought nothing of it.

Until the next morning.

Cassandra and Cole were the first to rise. Lavellan emerged from her tent not long after, which was Cassandra’s cue to begin hounding the rest of them to get ready for the day.

“Cole. Go wake Solas.”

“Okay,” Cole said, voice pleasant, apparently still chipper at the surprising return of their apostate companion. But some time after he entered the tent to rouse Solas, he poked his head out the front, face fretful as he looked at the Seeker and the Inquisitor.

“He won’t wake up.”

Lavellan was still groggy, hair untamed, teeth blackened with the charcoal she used to clean them when she looked up at Cole and uttered a deadpan and unamused, “What?”

A moment later Cassandra and Lavellan had piled into the men’s tent with Cole. Solas was, indeed, still stretched out on his bedroll. It looked like he hadn’t so much as moved since the night before. His blankets still lay at the foot of the bedroll, undisturbed.

Half asleep yet and decidedly not in the mood for this shit, Lavellan pushed past the two humans and knelt at Solas’ side. “Solas. Wake up.”

She punctuated her request with a loud clap of her hands, but Solas did not move. He did not so much as flinch.

Lavellan frowned. She cast her eyes about the tent, seized one of Cole’s discarded daggers with an “aha” of triumph, and, with her fingers wrapped firmly around the sheath, proceeded to prod Solas between his ribs firmly with the dagger’s handle.

“Solas. Solas. Solas.”

But no matter where she prodded him and no matter how much force she applied (admittedly, perhaps, she tested this farther than she should have) Solas did not stir. He was sleeping so deeply and so soundly that even the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was hardly noticeable.

“Searching, combing, if she is here I will find her, too much is already lost, slipping through my fingers like water, I won’t let go of this too, can’t.”

She turned to Cole. “What do you mean, can’t?”

Cole shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I don’t know… if he can’t, or if he won’t.”

“But for us, the two are effectually the same,” Cassandra drawled. She huffed in disgust, then turned to leave the tent. “Come, Inquisitor. We must prepare a bier. We will have to carry him.”

Lavellan’s face transformed at once from a look of annoyance to one of disbelief. “Wait, wait, excuse me,” Lavellan said, scrambling out of her kneeling position and out of the tent. “Carry him? Across the whole Dirth? While we’re fighting undead and Freemen and Creators knows what else? Why can’t we just leave him?”

Cassandra sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “He is the Inquisition’s expert on the arcane. We can’t simply leave him here, unprotected.”

“And why can’t we?” Lavellan asked, incredulous. “This is what he does, Cassandra. It’s what he’d been doing for… I don’t know, years. Decades before he joined the Inquisition.”

Cassandra leveled her with a hard stare. “To the best of our knowledge, the Elder One is armed with an elvhen weapon that only Solas seems to know anything about. He would prove invaluable should we ever have to disarm or destroy such a weapon.” Then she raised an eyebrow, shrugged her arms, smirked. “But then again, you are Inquisitor. We will leave him behind if you command it. And then you can explain to Leliana why our foremost expert on ancient Arlathan had his face gnawed off by a horde of undead.”

And Lavellan did not like the idea of carrying Solas across the Exalted Plains while they ran errands for the helpless Orlesians, but she liked the idea of provoking Leliana’s ire even less. She gave a sigh of defeat.

“Alright, Seeker. How do we make a stretcher?”

And so it went that for many days Cassandra and Lavellan had to carry their sleeping apostate (an unwelcome if necessary burden) across the landscape of the Exalted Plains. At least here, the land was mostly flat. Lavellan was so deeply cross with Solas (which was nothing new, in truth) but she would have been far more cross if he had pulled such a stunt in, say, the Frostbacks.

They had tried to rotate out with Cole, but it turned out he was much better at keeping lookout ahead of them. He would return to Cassandra and Lavellan whenever he saw anyone or anything ahead: Freemen, Imperials, Ventaori. And in those moments, Lavellan was relieved, because even if she had to fight, it meant she could put Solas down for a little while—he was a lithe looking thing, but heavier than she would have guessed.

She and Cassandra would stash him in a low ditch, or behind a pillar of rocks. In the tall grasses of the once-fertile farmlands, he was almost impossible to spot. Rarely did she return to find him disturbed. Once, she had come back from a skirmish with some Venatori to find a wolf half-heartedly sniffing his toes, but he had been chased off easily at the challenge of Cassandra, Cole and Lavellan, each heavily armed and spattered with fresh Tevinter blood.

Sometimes—when the fighting came upon them quickly—she would be forced to set him down and stay beside him, struggling to keep a barrier big enough to cover the two of them while they fought of an onslaught of arrows loosed by undead hands. And in times like this, she would curse him under her breath with every excel: the apostate who was so lost in his grief he had to make it everyone else’s problem.

Did he think she had no grief of her own? Fenedhis. Did he think that being in the Dales would be another stroll in the park for her? Dirthara-ma. She hated it here; she’d thought, at least, as an elf, that he might be able to sympathize. Oh, but no, the Dalish weren’t his people, and how could you make such a mistake as to associate him with this bumbling backwoods peasants? Fenedhis, fenedhis, fenedhis.

But sometimes, when they set him down for the night at whatever new location they had set up camp, she would watch his motionless face as the campfire shifted shadows about his features. And she couldn’t deny it—he was beautiful, a little, like this. Now that he’d shut up and stopped condemning all her decisions and her upbringing.

And it was on the sixth such night that she sat close enough to notice: he had not moved, but that did not mean he hadn’t changed. He had been sleeping for days and so had taken no food nor drink, and this was something that none of them had (as yet) been terribly concerned about, fears assuaged by all the stories Solas had told about the time he’d spent wandering the Fade on his own. But on that evening in the light of the fire she noticed his lips had dried, cracked; so long had he gone without water that it was beginning to take a real toll on him. Most people, she knew from experience, would have long past perished; it was a testament to his strength that he had gone that long.

There was no love lost between them. It was no secret that they had argued relentlessly since she had woken up in Haven. She owed him nothing.

All the same… all the same, she couldn’t help the small, flowering tenderness that had taken root inside of her after having to care for Solas for the past few days, helpless as he was.

She fished through her pack for a clean rag—a task easier said than done—and when she found one, she pulled her out her canteen. Luckily, with the Enavuris River nearby, there was no dearth of water; she soaked the cloth generously in the cool fresh water. Then, gently, slowly, she moved her hand over to his face, and squeezed the rag gently, letting the water from the rag drip onto his chapped lips.

A hand lashed out, lightning quick, and wrapped around her wrist.

Lavellan froze, gasped. When she looked down at Solas, she was relieved (and startled and quite frankly a bit pissed) to find his eyes were open, and he was staring up at her quizzically.

Unbidden, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, incapable of doing anything to stop it. “Your lips were cracked.”

He looked at her, his expression unreadable, and when he spoke, his voice was flat. “You dropped me.”

“I—what?” she cried, wrenching her hand from his own.

“I’m bruised,” he said, a note of indignation in his voice as he slowly eased himself off the stretcher and into a sitting position, moving his hands along his limbs, rubbing the muscles as his body awakened. “I can feel it. You must have dropped me. I know the Seeker would not have been so careless.”

Lavellan huffed, threw the sopping rag at the apostate. It hit him squarely in the face with a satisfying wet sound, and when he clawed it off a moment later, he looked more astonished than upset about it.

“How dare you! Bruised. Next time I’ll set up some wards and leave you to the undead and the wolves and the varghests, and we’ll see if you’re lucky enough to have nothing but bruises to worry about when you wake, you thankless prat.”

[savetheblackpaladin]

Paladins + Vehicles

Ok so I couldn’t get this out of my mind so let’s mcfreakin do this

Shiro

drives a Ford Expedition just as damaged as he is but listen, Black is a babe (high key based of a car I once drove)

Is mostly black except for some reason the hatch is khaki green and she’s missing bits of paint and has scratches and dents just everywhere

was the first car Shiro ever bought and he got her at a police car auction

he found a broken meth pipe hidden in the dash while he was replacing the heating core (nice)

she was super cheap bc she needed a lot of work but Shiro got her working like a champ!

she looks like she can breakdown at any second but shiro has driven this tank into the craziest situations

has driven over sidewalks to avoid waiting to turn at a light

said fuck it and drove over a huge ass snowback bc why not?

the one you call to move furniture or to get you when you get stuck

the official Camping Vehicle bc not only can she get into places a full size SUV shouldn’t physically be able too she’s the perfect tent/hauler!

Has phone alarms set up for all her checkups so he doesn’t miss a single oil change, brake check, tire rotation, or even spark plug replacement

he’s dedicated as fuck to his poor damaged bby

Has a ‘protection skeleton’ for good luck

his parents always had ‘protection angels’ so it’s traditional. he’s just morbid so protection skelly

Keith

has a red Honda CBR (Lance makes fun of his ‘crotch rocket’ but not so secretly gets him flustered)

Her name is officially Red but Keith always calls her ‘His Girl’

Will cry if she gets a scratch and will spend all day buffing it out

has totally made improvements to her and honestly, she can’t even be called a CBR anymore because wow he has replaced nearly all the stock parts with fancy illegal stuff

has spent the most money on his vehicle, like he spends more on Red than food. Shiro buys him groceries a lot

routinely races muscle cars and wins (of course)

but also has the most speed tickets bc this angry child doesn’t know what a speed limit is

“The day I go the speed limit will be the day my body gets driven to the morgue” Keith bby no

actually likes giving out rides so he always has two spare helmets (for small and large heads) and an extra leather jacket bc safety is important

will not let you ride if you don’t wear the jacket bc even tho he’s a speed demon Keith is super concerned with safety

once Red got bumped in a parking lot and fell over and it was honestly the worst day in Keith’s life

he stormed into the nearest store and demanded to see their camera feeds

WHAT CHUCKLEFUCK HIT MY BIKE I NEED THEIR LICENSE PLATE IM GONNA MURDER THEM

he scared the poor CS gal so bad she started crying and managers got involved and Keith just didn’t understand why he couldn’t see who hit Red bc this boy was out for blood

Police got called, Keith got escorted out, he tried to argue with the cop but things escalated and Shiro had to bail is baby brother out

after picking up Red ofc (Shiro has a portable ramp in his car. He. is. Prepared.)

Lance

has a 20 yr old Camry he affectionately calls Blue for short but her real name is essentially The Blue Babe of My Heart but he says it in spanish and I am not gonna try and translate that

he bought her super cheap from Hunk who had bought her as a turn around 

Lance was hanging around Hunk’s shop and honestly it was love at first sight

Hunk was all for it because honestly Camry’s are freaking tanks and never die and Lance is a disaster

they’re perfect for each other

has the best smelling car. He lives for those little scenty things you put in the dash

whenever Blue makes weird noises he’s just like ‘I know babe, i know. I got ya. You can make it because you are such a good girl!’

he talks the most to his car and it’s just so precious

Unironically has fuzzy dice and everyone hates them but the last time someone tried to take them down while Lance was driving he nearly flipped the car in his rage. No one touches them if they want to live.

Never locks his car bc you can’t just start it like a normal car so no one can steal it. also, no one wants a 20 yr old car

only Hunk and Lance can start her. everyone else has tried but they can’t figure out how lance and hunk do it.

Group belief is that Blue runs on magic

Has a “My child is an Honor Student” bumper sticker and he loves it. Cue group inside joke about Hunk and Lance being proud parents of their Honor Student child Pidge.

Once tried taking Keith on a romantic date out to the woods but Blue got stuck in the trail bc Lance kept forgetting to replace his bald ass tires

Hunk had to go get them and gave Lance a lecture about it

they still had a nice time though just sitting on Blue’s hood

Hunk

Ok so he’s a mechanic right? Hunk runs a small shop where he buys cheap cars people can’t fix, fixes them, and sells them for profit but he really excels at restoration

Drives a pastel yellow Ford F100 from the 50′s called Butter

She’s actually a F250 under the hood but shhhhhh

the only thing original on this babe is the body, which Hunk routinely checks for rust or damage

There’s usually car parts, wood, or other random things in the bed bc Hunk also does construction on the side but if you wanna go star gaze, Butter is the best

Hunk will make a nest and it’s routine for everyone to just fall asleep in there watching the stars

Hasn’t done anything crazy in Butter bc she’s an antique and he is Responsible™

Like Keith he will spend hours buffing out any scratches and while he won’t completely loose it over bigger damages he will cry and be morose until he repairs it

However, if you put your feet on the dash he will break-check your ass, DON’T. DO. IT.

No eating in his car either

in fact don’t even be dirty in his car ok

Hates driving in winter bc the salt they put on the roads is terrible for cars and he feels her pain so he usually goes places with Lance or waits for the Weekend Costco Trip with Shiro

Is a good one to call if you get stuck bc this babe can pullout anything

Puts the reindeer antlers on his car for christmas

Puts flower bouquets in the grill for summer

Pidge

has two vehicles: a little lime green Vespa for summer and a deep green 2005 Prius for winter

hasn’t really named her vehicles and just refers to them as the Vespa and the Prius

she does love them though, like they are always clean and shiny

Got the Prius for her 18th birthday and she saved up for the Vespa bc she wanted to be that person who goes to Famer’s Market wearing a big straw hat and nice sun dress on a scooter

she’s adorable

shows up at Shiro’s, “I’m here to pick up a fossil” “Pidge I’m 25.” “Yeah, he’s got white hair and 4 children”

shows up and Lance and Hunk’s place, “Get in nerds, we’re going shopping”

sees Keith out on the street while on her Vespa. Challenges him to a race. Keith let her win once and it was all she could talk about for weeks bc she was so proud of her Vespa

modified the horn of her Prius to a semi-truck honk and uses it only for evil

there’s always soil in the back of the Prius bc she uses it to visit the nursery and just never cleans it

smells like earth in it as a result and it’s actually super peaceful

Gives everyone shit about their gas mileage bc she gets like 40+ to the gallon

[weracetogether]

Rememberance and Redemtion- 2019 Tampa Bay Frogman http://bit.ly/2RSNh5p There are times when thoughts linger in our minds. Over this past year my mind drifted back to being in the Tampa Bay and the events which took place that led to not completing the swim in 2018. Processing the event over and over in my head, playing out the moments down to each second. Trying to remember all the details and feelings. Planning for the still unknown of that past day. In the mist of these thoughts something truly "Frogman" started to come to mind- it was never about me, not about one single person, not about one single journey. Since I started participating in the Tampa Bay Frogman, it was about a community. A community who lifts each other up. A community who holds on their strong shoulders the weights of others. A community who never allows someone to be left in the darkness. When I look back on my 2018 swim I was focusing on the wrong thing. I was focused on me not making it across the bay. I was focused on my mind becoming confused. I was focused on my body stopping. What I was failing to focus on was the community. The community of people who stood there on that shoreline to honor those who gave their lives as sacrifice. The community of families of soldiers and swimmers who hug each other and thank each other for being there with love in their heart. The community of safety persons, including my father and husband, who make sure that no person feels alone. In the moment when my swim stopped a year ago I forgot about that community and I allowed myself to focus on the wrong thing and for far too long. 

On 13 January 2019, I stood on the shore feet on the cold wet sand. I stood there, gazing out at the water for one moment before taking a step towards the other side of the bay. In that moment I saw my family, I saw the other swimmers, I saw the kayakers and safety boats, and I saw the families and friends of others who stood there with smiles and encouragement. If I am being honest in that moment I was swept back to those thoughts about myself. I was scared and fearful of failing again. I felt my wetsuit tighten just at my chest. Catching my breath I pushed back those thoughts and looked at what was really around me- this community built on strength, courage, faith, and love.  This swim would be a little different for me as it would be the first time my father was not my kayaker. He was leaving me with a trusted guide, my husband, Patrick. I knew I would miss my father being there with me on the water ("Left", "left", left"). I heard him tell Patrick, "Keep her left." In that moment I knew I would not be without my father out there, he was just letting someone else yell at me for a bit. Someone, who I must, say is very skilled after hours upon hours and miles after miles of yelling at me from a kayak. 

Before the first swimmers go off there are a few things that happen on shore which remind you of this community you are a part of just by standing there. First you will hear the safety briefing. No matter how many times I have stood on this shore I always perk my ears at this briefing. I have learned this water, but I have also learned in years of open water swimming that water changes faster than any element out there and it deserves respect. Next you will hear the names of the fallen read aloud. In this moment there is silence and reflection. A reminder not of why we are here today but of why we have the opportunity to be here today. After this the colors are presented. The color guard stand under the flags of our nation and our military branches. You will hear the first words of the Star Spangled banner come from a swimmer dressed in a wetsuit. It is what you hear next that changes you from one person to a community (if you needed one more moment). That one voice by the song's second line becomes 30 voices, then 50 voices, then 100 voices, then every voice on that beach. Together we sing then cheer. This will be the only time that all of us are one together, but it will be felt long after the music stops.  I was in the last wave for the swim this year (I made assumptions as to why, but Patrick reminded me that wave isn't what mattered). A start is a start and I am ever grateful to be a small part of the Frogman Swim events. I watched and waited while the other swimmers left. The beach began to clear of kayaks and wetsuit donning bodies. The onlookers thinned and tents and supplies were getting stowed away. There I stood with my fellow "last wavers" as we took those first steps into the cold water. I will say this they certainly save the most humorous for last. The whole five minutes we waited you saw smiles and heard jokes. I had to laugh when one of the guys said, "One day I'll be tough like the ladies and wear a short sleeve wetsuit. But not today!"  I turned to wave one more time at Patrick, who would be easy to spot in his duct tapped together straw hat. Here is where it always gets interesting. You swim for a little bit without your kayaker  (well, I do so my kayaker doesn't have to run over a swimmer). But it is sort of like a game of Frogger out there, dodging kayaers and swimmers, trying to find "clean" water. As we passed the radios towers, just getting sight of the bridge, Patrick was close and we were starting to stay North (left, as my father tells me). Once insight of the bridge the crowd starts to thin. I am glancing in both directions and I see very few swimmers or kayaers. Patrick keeps directing me and switches from my right to my left, given the position of the sun this allows me to see him better.  It is interesting to have swam with a kayaker for so long that you learn each other's facial expressions and small signals. A little wave means "move further left, closer to the kayak". When I glance up at him a small nod gives reassurance that he has me on course even though I see only a few swimmers near us and then a large amount to the far right of us fading into the waves. I trust him and focus on following these cues, on arm over the next.  As the sun rose the currents began to pull stronger. the tide was pulling to the right (not the right direction for me to be going). But something more personally daunting was ahead of me- the sandbar. On this sandbar a year ago my swim ended. As the shallow of the bar became visible my heart pounded in my chest. Oh, and not metaphorically, this rise in heart rate can actually be seen in the report out on my Garmin. I was breathing more often trying to calm myself back down. Telling my self it was "silly" to have such thoughts. Then below me nestled in the short grass was a small ray. He was calm and oh so over the chaos of us swimmers. That's what I needed to be "oh so over the chaos happening in my brain." I watched the water fall off my arm as I took my breath looking at Patrick in the kayak. there was no chaos in that view. I put my head back down and focused on long and strong strokes, feeling the current pulling more and more.  A few more rays later, including a big beach ball sized one, the sand bar began to fade. this only takes about 2 seconds in these waters. Suddenly the water is this dark green-gray color. You can't see the bottom just the bubbles of air that push under and around you from your arms that are living in both the above and below of the water. In this deep the danger is you don't realize how hard the current is not pulling on you. There are no cues from the grasses any more. But you feel it. you watch other swimmers get further from you and you notice that the buoy appears to be drifting against the current and away from you.  This is where my stubbornness (shocker) started to come out. We were at the far side of the channel, fighting current to stay left and keep the buoys the the right. I was at of the "Freddie the frog" buoys and I was soon going to miss getting up around it. I know this isn't a race but for me this day was about redemption and I was going to cover every inch of the water on this day. Patrick pulled ahead to not get pushed in the kayak against the buoy. I fought and found myself face to face with Freddie. He was bouncing as the current tugged at him but I refused to let his dart and wave scare me. I pushed to swim straight north to get above the buoy. I was just even with it and starting to go under the edge of it. As I was honestly about to left myself off the hook and just be the wrong side of one buoy, I decided to take one more shot. I pushed two freestyle strokes and then dove under the water coming up on the other side of the buoy and pushed to the south side of it so quickly. It was a stupid thing to do but I was laughing to myself as I came up looking at Patrick's face, which clearly said, "I don't know what you did but I am sure it was a bad idea." I was on the north side of the buoy rope, all buoys across the bay had remained to my right, as they were meant to be.  Now came the fun part. Soon we would turn right and the current would be with us. the only challenge would be to stay near shore and not get pulled back to the channel. In this section several swimmers from different waves start to blend in again. You are no longer alone, instead you start to wonder where everyone came from and how our community lost itself and found itself in the three mile span.  Patrick smiles at me and nods his head. I signal that I love him and then I take the final left to shore. As I glance up to spot I see people walking and people standing in the water, some are swimmers on their finish approach and some are guides cheering and pointing-- all are smiling. This year I stood up much earlier than normal for me. But I wanted to see the shore, to take it in, to see this community welcoming us all back.  I crossed the finish line and was greeted by smiling faces. The gentleman who handed me my coin grasped me in a quick hug and said thank you. I could only repeat his words back to him. I was so very thankful for everything this day and this community meant to me. 

As I walked across the grass towards where the kayakers come in I was greeted with my favorite part of any race, event, or day- Patrick! He smiled and hugged me, and I could not think of any place else I wanted to be.   I made it to my parents-- my mother quickly handing me a towel and my blanket and taking drinks and goggles from my hands; my father with a hint of a smile told me "good job", I told him "I missed him out there."  It is sometimes strange where we find community- in our homes, in our families, in our workplace, or on the shore of an event which honors a group of people who define community.   

This year I swam for Petty Officer First Class Jesse Pittman. He was killed on 06 August 2011, during a mission in the Wardark Providence of Afghanistan. The team was returning to base when their helicopter was hit by a rocket, killing 30 persons on board. Jesse was known to have strength and determination. An article published after his death speaks to this in a statement of his younger years-- "When he was in kindergarten, he would answer only to the name John Wayne."  "Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway." --- John Wayne

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[sailor2xmoon]

Mafia/Hitman AU Pt. 3

In which Victor Nikiforov is a Man for Hire. Urban legends say that, for the right price (and sometimes just for kicks), he can single handedly pull off any job in the world. Beautiful, invincible and filthy rich.

Enter Katsuki Yuuri and it all goes to shit.

Part 1 (x)

Part 2 (x)

AO3 here (x)

A hometown hero. Minako says to Yuuri as he packs a suitcase for the upcoming business trip. Hasetu needed to establish some lifelines and it was up to Yuuri Katsuki to make it happen. 

Hasetsu was a tourist town, small and cozy with valuable land but the past couple of years have a been battle for small time businesses to stay away from bankruptcy. Yu-topia, one of the final hot springs in Hasetsu left was sinking and his parents have been under scrutiny to keep the books in the black. Even in the face of increasingly aggressive contractors offering to take it off their hands, the land Yu-topia stood on was their version of the family heirloom, it was not up for sale.

We're counting on you, Yuuri! He knows they're supposed to be words of encouragement and yet all he feels are the burden of roles he needed to fill. Carrying on the hopes of his entire family and the residents of Hasetsu by proxy did not make Yuuri feel like the valiant hometown hero everyone else expected him to be.

Yuuri spent the last 5 years abroad in America, studying as an undergrad at Berkeley for a degree in Marketing and Entrepreneurship with the intent of returning to revive the family business. He graduated with honours, so Yuuri knows how to crunch out numbers and graphs on projected growth, on efficiency, on trend line predictions with the best of them, that was never the real hurdle. Networking presented a challenge, surrounded by charisma and innate charm, Yuuris' anxiety weighed down on him. Still, Yuuri could manage to get by with his hard knowledge and a few close friends.

Problems arose when it came to presentations, where his charts and figures failed, regardless of how accurate they may be. Yuuri realizes that a large part of being successful with clients was about selling yourself rather than the product. Selling yourself as someone competent, self assured and thrives under the pressure of great responsibility. Someone clients can trust with their assets, someone who won't buckle. Unfortunately, professors never covered much of that in lecture. 

This upcoming banquet would serve as a major opportunity to make connections with powerful investors that Hasetsu would otherwise never even hear of. No more quietly standing in the shadows, Yuuri needed to be on top of his game and stand out.  

Yuuri loses track after drink number 6. The world got soft around the edges and he feels as if the entire room is filled with old friends he just happened to forget. Except, Yuuri can feel someone watching him in his periphery, could it be an actual old friend? Yuuri turns to look and... Definitely not someone you could forget easily, if at all. If Yuuri wasn't drunk he'd swear that man was glowing. 

No to old friend, Yes to whatever that man wants to be.

Who is he? Yuuri doesn't know if he said that out loud but someone answers anyways.

"Victor! I didn't expect to see you here." A cheery woman in an evening gown approaches the glowing man and embraces him in a hug. When Victor turns to greet her, Yuuri zeros in trying catch Victor's eyes, do you see me?  He succeeds for a split second and is sure the moment deserves a slow motion replay, not enough time has never been such a big problem.

That's it. Yuuri has just had four more glasses of something that turns everything around him into a fairytale and the prince just spotted his beau of the ball. He's certain the fantasy ends when the clock strikes midnight and every glass he knocks back just delays that hour a little longer. Yuuri never knew beer goggles, he just has champagne tinted glasses and it comes with a certain brand of confidence.

The DJ puts on a new track and a seductive rhythm kicks his fairytale off to a intoxicating start. Yuuri is pulling at his tie and swaying across the lounge to introduce himself to Victor. The beautiful glowing man raises his eyebrows in surprise when he catches sight of Yuuri just short of charging at him. Its debatable if Yuuris hips are rolling with the music or he is just...enthusiastic. Yuuri stops a few steps short, extends a hand out to Victor with half hooded eyes and his shirt more than half unbuttoned.

Dance with me. Not a question.

It's a bit obscene.

When Victor tentatively slips his fingers into Yuuris' open palm, Yuuri sees the devils mischief in a smile. His hand closes around Victors and Yuuri pulls him forward hard enough Victor almost stumbles. Yuuris body is there to catch him, they're pressed flush from knee to chest when Victor swings his right leg back for support and caresses his left thigh up against Yuuris' leg. The mischief in Victor smile transforms into...

"It is a tango, after all." He says to Yuuri, voice reverberating through them both. Yuuri didn't expect the accent but certainly appreciates it. 

Yuuris' free hand is pressed against the small of his back (pull him closer, no, closer) and with the other sliding slowly down Victors' arm, he cross steps the both of them onto the dance floor. Victors traces a figure 8 and snaps into a back boleo with his leg bent upwards into a v while the other stays extended behind him, toes sliding against the marble floor as Yuuri pulls him forward. He doesn't break eye contact so why should Yuuri, they're both deadlocked in a gaze, barely catching their breath in a sweetheart embrace. Yuuri pivots Victor in a carousel and with forehead to forehead, dips Victors backwards with an arm wrapped around his waist. The song, as if on cue, plays a woman's breathless moan. 

Obscene.

All those years of lessons in Minako's studio might as well have been built for this moment. Yuuri makes a mental note of getting Minako a nice present for her next birthday.

At one point, Yuuri mistakes Victors' step back for a move to walk away so he pulls the loosened tie over his head and tosses the loop over Victor, giving a very firm tug once around the Russian man's neck. The gasp he hears is not from the song. 

Everyone, dance floor and beyond, is staring. Staring and scandalized and possibly taking photos. Had there been children present, their eyes would be covered by a parents' hand.

Where do you think you're going?

They are close enough for Yuuri to steal a breath from Victor. An arm wraps gently around Victors back and Victors arm is draped across his shoulders. In the figures of Argentine Tango, this particular expression of emotion has a name; you are mine.  

Victor whispers in Yuuris' ear about his impressive stamina and Yuuri is determined to prove him right. Either the DJ had an extensive block of fiery tango music planned or Cupid himself, was enjoying the show.  By the time the dance floor clears, the pair has danced to fourteen songs back to back. They end in a dramatic final figure, with Victors' leg hooked on top of Yuuris' thigh and their bodies pressed together from the chest down. If Victor was feeling tired before, he's certainly feeling something else now. 

When the night comes to a close, Yuuri is responsible for 15 empty flutes though he only drank 14.5. Victor is wearing the last half in his jacket and only then decides it might be a good time for the alcohol to stop flowing. Yuuri is clinging to Victor, his hips rolling on their own accord, slurring out his subconscious. "Victooooor" Yuuris' arms squeeze around his new dance partner. "Come viii-situh me in Haasetsuuu, my family owns a HOT springs, it's reeeeally w-" GASP. "Let's be bussinessssss partners Victooor..... I'll give you mmhmyy carrrr-duh, you'll be my partner riiight??"

 By the next morning, Yuuri doesn't remember much from his alcohol induced fairytale. There are some fuzzy snippets in his memory about dancing with a beautiful, possibly glowing man and asking him to become part of his professional network... or something. All Yuuri knows for sure is that he ended up in the right bed in the morning with his phone and wallet intact, dignity not withstanding. Well, it was his bed, whether or not the right one is up for discussion.

On the night stand there is a glass of water and a business card. It just says Victor with a phone number listed below. If Yuuri was more observant, he would also see the faint outline of a kiss preserved in Chanel lip balm on the back. But he isn't, and the kiss goes undelivered.

After an abnormal amount of social media stalking and a relentless stream of what do I say? Because oh my god this guy is going to think I'm a drunken idiot that hits on strangers and propositions them to be an investor in his family business while partially undressed and Victor probably dumped him off in the hotel room after drunk Yuuri passed out post banquet. Which means he probably took a taxi with drunk Yuuri, had to dig through drunk Yuuris pockets for a room key, took off shoes, socks and glasses for drunk Yuuri, most likely got propositioned to be another kind of partner by drunk Yuuri and declined from the lack of a Victor shaped imprint in the space next to him. Oh god. 

Sober Yuuri mentally berates the drunk one for messing up a legitimate chance to network with apparently a powerful and wealthy business mogul.  

There is no way on the face of this planet Yuuri is calling Victor. He is flying back to Hasetsu and never drinking again.

Four days and a snow storm later, Victor shows up at Yu-topia. Yuuri finds him soaking in the hot springs. Naked. So very naked. 

Victor moves in with Yuuri that very same night. There aren't many hotels in Hasetsu and their banquet hall has been doing little outside of collecting dust so Victor asks to rent it out. Yuuri's mom, Hiroko, would have accepted a smile as payment if Victor offered. Hiroko tells Yuuris' sister how glad she is now that Yuuris' FINALLY brought someone home. So handsome too! 

Yuuri insists it's not like that. Mari gives him a pointed look. Victor is lying on the floor, sleeping, but not really.

That night, Yuuri realizes his heart is pounding because he is so happy.