#but I feel like it's definitely possible and probably both fascinating and deeply amusing

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

what if Narvin (black sheep of the Patrex chapter) and Romana (golden child of the house of Heartshaven) somehow met as kids

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko Ch1. Replay 2

I've always wondered whether Jessica knows Kinzo is dead? I guess she has to and the answer she gives is weirdly evasive, kinda wish we got some info on what her thoughts about the whole situation were.

Ok yeah she definitely knows, implies she has seen him leave.

He really did basically entirely forget, ouch

corner kumasawa jumpscare

Oh my god I definitely wasn't expecting Kumasawa to drop hints about the baby yasu plot point so early

yeah ahah her ruse would be broken if he did indeed grope her but also the way George always feeds into her complex (without even bothering to understand what 'furniture' means to her!) always struck me in such a bad way, I don't think this relationship would be very healthy even under better circumstances for Yasu

haha Maria Yasu moments are cute

There's a full line of people to go through before Kinzo even considered his wife, huh

boo natsuhi is the best battler

he sure is

I can't tell if Kinzo's disdain for Maria is something that actually happened? I remember Rosa saying Kinzo didn't like her naming her child Maria, so I guess it's possible he was grumpy when she was born and it's something that got exaggerated by everyone's already negative opinion of Kinzo?

Very interesting to try and untangle which parts of the fantasy Kinzo scenes are an accurate portrayal of Kinzo, what other characters saw as Kinzo, or even a stand-in for Yasu

Kind of interesting to interpret lines like this instead as support for her parents, like, if even Jessica, someone who considers herself completely separated from the inheritance problem, acts so hard like Kinzo is alive then it lends a lot of credence to her parents claims that he's alive

oh battler

oh that's his magic name or whatever isn't it

idk battler of all the things i could say about kinzo moving like others wanted him to isn't how id think of him

You can sorta see how Battler struggles to try to understand people on their terms and not his own even in small interactions like this. That is probably the exact kind of compliment Gohda was fishing for here!

nice save kumasawa

While Kumasawa was also a bit of an enabler wrt Kinzo, it still makes me sad to think of all the times she died at the hands of someone she had warm feelings for while having no idea what was going on .

You wasted all your money on moon expeditions I wouldn't try to hold those words against anyone Krauss!

Team Natsuhi getting into formation for defense

Man, Kyrie and Natsuhi have it tough. Being both the main brains behind the team but also the ones their husbands constantly work against because of misogyny. Kinda fascinating to see the contrast between them and Eva and Hideyoshi - Hideyoshi mostly being the one to smooth things over when Eva goes too far, they are actually working as a team.

Krauss still trying to prepare for repeating the Kinzo is alive play next year as well, surely 3 years in a row is trying your luck? Especially since everyone knows by now lol.

I wanna read about Krauss Natsuhi and Jessica in Disney Land that seems like an amusing story

Kinda interesting how much worse Rosa's financial situation seems to be than the other siblings. I guess they had the benefits of being able to get bailed by Kinzo of any mistakes for longer (or in Krauss' current state, just embezzling the funds lol)

Natsuhi really is trying so hard. And she's alone at that - It seems Krauss' plan isn't as much deceiving everyone as much as making them okay with his shit for a while. You could communicate better with your wife!

Eva's vitriol towards Natsuhi is of course very interesting. She uses her as a punching bag to launch all the misogyny she has received in her life back to someone while also being deeply bitter and envious of her: She got the position she always wanted as head of the Ushiromiya family and not only that she got it *because* she is a woman (Krauss' wife) which is the exact reason she was being denied it her entire time! Of course, she also got basically sold off from her family because she is a woman and treated as a baby maker for the same reason but. I can't really blame her for being extremely bitter, even if you know the correct answer would be to help each other and kiss and Also, with Eva having George as a mad ploy to usurp the head from Krauss, I wonder what she would have done had George been born a boy? Would she finally give up on her dreams now that they were certainly crushed? Would she put her child through a completely futile quest to become the head? Idk I would probably read a story based on this premise!

Seeing Natsuhi trying so hard for a family who has never really respected her but she has deluded herself into thinking they (Or at least Kinzo) have is very sad

[silverdelirium]

SWEET TOOTH | J.P

SUMMARY ➠ ice cream man!james fucks you in his ice cream truck

WARNINGS ➠ fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, praise kink, humiliation (?), pet names, bit of a breeding kink, not proofread

WORD COUNT ➠ 2.0k

A/N ➠ the long awaited ice cream man james smut ;) oh and this is for @hellounicorn <33

———

you were in that stage between dreams and reality when you heard it.

the small tune that you memorized since you started living in this neighbourhood— he always passed by in summer; and god, were you craving something cold and tasty to munch on when it was a thousand degrees outside.

you hummed in content as you lifted yourself from your bed, stretching your lips and rummaging through your closet in an attempt to find a comfortable and decent attire to meet james; as weird as it sounded, you wanted to impress the ice cream man and it was safe to say that you had developed a small crush— james had always been so nice to you, going as far as giving you free popsicles in exchange for a brief conversation.

the tip of your nerves went on fire as you stepped outside; spotting him buckling his belt. he was wearing a tight fit white shirt that had you drooling and shuddering.

——

“there you go, kiddo” chuckled james after delivering a chocolate ice cream to the last kid of the big crowd that had formed earlier.

he sighed in disappointment when he realized that you still hadn’t come out yet— he had purposely parked the van a few feet from your house, just so you could maybe pop by and have a nice chat with him.

truth is that james missed you. he hadn’t seen you since last summer and it had already been a shitty weather day, he knew you would be the only one to lift his mood up with that bright smile of yours.

james went back to the driver’s seat and as he finished buckling himself up he heard a small scream of his name upfront.

holy fuck— thought james.

you were wearing a small cute sundress that accentuated your figure in the best way possible, and when he let his eyes travel down to your chest, he caught a glimpse of your peebled nipples. leading him to get into the conclusion that you might only be wearing panties underneath that dress. his cock ached at the thought.

he stepped on the pedal lightly and drove closer to you, until the truck was right in line with your home.

“hi there, sweetheart!” he greeted, unbuckling his seatbelt and going into the back— where he was met with your face through the open window.

“hello james” you giggled “long time, no see, huh?”

“damn right you are, honey— i was starting to wonder if you moved out, what took you so long?” he spoke in a querying tone.

the tip of your ears and nose grew hot as you remembered struggling to find something cute for him. “oh— uhm, i was just— looking for my shoes you know?” you awkwardly chuckled, staring down at the five dollar bill in your hand as if it was the most interesting thing in the planet.

he gave you a bit of an amused look before shaking his head “whatever you say, pretty girl” your tummy fluttered as the nickname dripped from his lips like sweet honey.

“what would you like today, hm?”

“oh just— something sweet and creamy, like an ice cream popsicle” you shrugged, not noticing the effect your words had on james.

“i know something of yours that is sweet and creamy” he murmured under his breath. “what was that?” “oh, no nothing” he gave you a tight lipped smile, his cheeks dusting pink.

“right well uhm, the ice cream”

“oh shoot yeah— what uh” he paused to clear his throat “what flavor where you thinking of, petal?” and his sweet flirty persona was back on, as if the thought of having a face full of your pussy wasn’t replaying on his head over and over again.

“i don’t know” you groaned, almost embarrassed at your sudden indecisiveness.

“you can come in you know? take a look at the flavors and see which one catches your attention more” he offered, sparing you a small smile.

“won’t you get in trouble for that?” you cocked your head to the side. “i don’t mind” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still quirked up as he opened up the back door for you; already holding both of his hands out to help you climb in.

what a gentleman, you thought.

“there we go, honey. take your time.” spoke james as he patted your waist twice, sending a buzz of excitement all throughout your body that almost made you shudder on the spot.

the variety of flavours seemed so appetizing you started wishing you would’ve brought your whole wallet to buy all of them at once, but a peach flavoured ice cream would do.

as you went to give james the money he only chuckled and said “you know i wouldn’t charge a pretty little thing like you, your presence is enough” before handing you the sweet and throwing you a wink as he rested his back on the frame of the window.

the way his muscles flexed as he crossed them over his chest had you questioning whether you should’ve asked for his cock instead of a fucking popsicle—

and god… that damn shirt had your core clenching around air as your mind wandered about him fucking you in every position possible, he just looked so elegantly inviting.

“you done staring, sweetheart?”

shit. you didn’t even realize.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, i should probably leave” you nervously laughed, heading towards the back doors, only to have a large hand around your abdomen stop you.

holy fuck. james potter’s body was pressed against yours and you almost let out a moan as his breath fanned over the side of your petrified face.

“you can’t just leave me all alone in here, sweetie” his hand traveled lower down your mid drift. by now, your stupid peach flavored popsicle was long gone somewhere on the floor, melting. almost as much as you were against james’ hefty chest.

you swallowed thickly, blinking a few times to collect yourself as you turned your head to the side, it was hot breath against hot breath now; if only one of you made the first move—

“oh fuck this” he growled, disconnecting his palm from your pelvis and instead linking it with your jaw to have more access against your lightly chapped lips.

the lip-lock was vulgar and enticing since the start, both of you feeling the luscious sparks that it sent to your sex.

“i’ve been way too fucking patient” you heard him mumble as he took your lower lip in between his teeth, coaxing a whine as you felt your core drip with arousal. “bet you think about me when that pretty cunt is begging for relief, huh?”

“yes jamie, i do. i fucking do” you heaved, impassionedly grinding your bum against his bulging crotch. “i’m gonna fuck you nice and long today, baby. until all you can do is beg for more”

his words went straight to your sopping cunt as he waddled you forward, his mouth still on yours, to the window.

his lips detached from yours. “there we go baby, stay nice and loud for me, yeah? want the whole fucking neighbourhood to know who’s stuffing you full.”

your fingers gripped the edge of the window tightly as james nipped at your neck, his left hand bunching up your dress while the right one’s simultaneously prodded at your swollen button. “you came all bare for me, honey? bet you wanted me to fuck you good once and for all” he groaned, not giving you a warning as he slipped two fingers at once, leaving you a gasping mess as your knuckles turned white from holding on to the frame of the aperture you were leaned on.

“james!” you cried out quietly, rocking your hips back onto his fingers as the ones from his free hand made a path to your throat, lightly squeezing the sides.

his digits made wonders to your contracting insides, juices already making a sticky mess on your thighs as he curled them upwards, caressing your g-spot in a mouth-watering manner; the pad of his thumb made way to your clit, soothing it in tight figure eights as your legs shook, pulling small wails after wails from you.

feeling the thrill of the enticing orgasm building up, you brought one of your hands back to tangle itself on the male’s dark curls, only to have him tut at you as he removed his drenched fingers.

“wha— no! please!” you shamelessly begged, not giving a shit about anything else besides the ache on your heat.

james did nothing besides giving you a wicked grin as he let go of your neck, now focusing on lowering down his trousers— which quickly had you shutting up as you stared in fascination.

he was definitely the biggest you have had so far. a nice length with a thickness that would make a barbarous stretch feel so fucking delirious.

“i’m not sure if i can fit in that tiny hole of yours, precious. maybe i should just leave you like this” he fake pouted, a hint of amusement lacing his features as your bottom lip trembled at the thought of not having him inside you in the next fifteen seconds or so. “no! it’ll fit! make it fit” you mewled, rubbing your pooling cunt against his grith.

“so impatient” he chuckled, stabilizing your hips with his hands before forcing himself into you in one single unforgiving push, making you let out a small scream as your eyes shut tight.

james gave you a few moments for you to get comfortable before you rocked your hips backwards into his as a sign of consent. his hand travelled upwards to grope at your breasts as he thrusted deeply.

“my god, you feel like absolute heaven” he grunted, and even though you couldn’t hear him, the strain in his voice gave away that he was probably with his head thrown back, abs clenching and biceps flexed as his chest heaved, a sight for sore eyes truly.

your mouth stayed agape as his tip kissed your g-spot. your vision clouded with small black stars that had you genuinely question whether they were really painted in your house or not.

james started with a brutal speed since the start, the smacking of your skin against his was filthy and loud, you could only hope mr. benson wouldn’t go for a walk today.

the van rocked and lightly squeaked with every thrust of james’ and you tried your best to contain every loud moan and cry that might alarm the whole block. james had other plans though. “say my name baby, don’t hold back, i want to have your pretty moans fucking memorized”

you complied, throwing your last fucks out of the window and chanting his name like a prayer as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his strong arms moving to hold you up by the bending of your elbows, causing your spine to arch in a perfect C as james continuously grunted in your ear.

“you’re gonna be absolutely cockdrunk after i’m done with you, honey” he groaned, speeding up the push of his hips and biting down on your shoulder as he brought you both closer to the edge.

“james! i’m gonna cum so hard, don’t stop please, don’t fucking stop” you sobbed, moaning uncontrollably as the coil in your stomach unravelled without any form of forewarning.

“there we go, cream my cock so nicely baby” whispered james, still fucking your quivering pussy through the orgasm with an aggressive pace. “oh fuck, this tight cunt is gonna milk me dry, yeah?”

you could only answer him with a whimper as your legs almost gave out on you if it wasn’t for him holding you up, a few more sloppy thrusts and he was spraying your fluttering walls with his cum, whines escaping his lips.

a breathy moan passed through your mouth as he pulled out, his load slowly flowing out of your puffy folds.

“you look so hot when you’re stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart.” rasped james, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses.

———

i’m tagging the people who clicked “all” in my taglist, dm me if you wish to be removed.

🏷: @selenesheart @siriusblackwifeeey @alohastitch0626 @remuslupinswhore @caosfanblr @memorycharm @abbott27 @elizabethrosedarling @samaraaaaa @malfoyspov @ildm4ev @kieracass4lyfers @acciodignity @methblinds @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @marauderswh0re1 @black-rose-29 @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @youreso-golden @malfoyspov

[check your privacy settings if i wasn’t able to tag you ]

[novelconcepts]

Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it. 

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like? 

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle. 

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun. 

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it. 

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from. 

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left. 

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity. 

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves. 

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated. 

She looked real. 

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available. 

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it. 

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours. 

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach. 

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good. 

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself. 

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system. 

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night? 

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons. 

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit. 

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough. 

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?” 

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a  different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively. 

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now. 

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart. 

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on. 

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette. 

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips. 

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says. 

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane. 

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight. 

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make. 

[theajaheira]

you know me. you know what i want. give me the xander ask ( also you know what. riley too if you wanna)

YES. GOOD.

xander

My favorite thing about them: absolutely everything about him screams "bisexual kid from an abusive home whose only definition of masculinity is macho violence and who is acutely aware that he does not fit this definition of masculinity so instead overcompensates with self-loathing to try and kick himself before other people can kick him" and jesus christ that is just so fascinating and compelling and heartwarming he is definitely on my top five buffyverse characters list next to giles, jenny, buffy, anya, and tara

My least favorite thing about them: the fact that none of these incredibly interesting narrative threads are ever really highlighted in a way that isn't deeply depressing, & that instead xander is allowed to wallow in this incredibly toxic masculinity + lash out at his friends without ever taking steps towards positive healthy growth in any significant way

My favorite canon relationship: i am such a sucker for xander/cordy. i think it is so funny and sweet to see those two insane little kids go feral.

My favorite non-canon relationship: i think so much about xander/angel except not in a cutesy romantic way in like the weirdest and most Tension-Filled way possible. yes we hate each other and it's because we have a crush on the same girl OBVIOUSLY NOT BECAUSE WE WANT TO MAKE OUT. OBVIOUSLY NOT. (buffy is watching this happen with deep and amused fascination.)

The sexuality I headcanon for them: bisexual! but lbr that's so fucking canon. someone needs to make a tally of men whose attractiveness xander has commented on because it is so funny.

What I’d do if I could spend the day with them: i want to watch a bunch of weird old movies with him while we both make bad jokes and eat crappy movie snacks. then i will tell him that he is a very nice and kind person because i don't think he gets enough positive reinforcement in his life.

Random fact about them I like: he is so fucking petty in the dumbest possible way

riley

My favorite thing about them: Sir What Is Wrong With You. you know that scene where he's like "don't you just want to lock them up and do experiments on them? :)" i love that energy from riley and i don't think we really get it anywhere else. iowa corn boy except really he is fucking WEIRD.

My least favorite thing about them: that he left :( come back riley!!!!!!!

My favorite canon relationship: buffyyyy i have really softened on them! i think their season four energy is adorable and sweet.

My favorite non-canon relationship: xander/riley would be so excellent actually. xander and almost any man on the show.

The sexuality I headcanon for them: bisexual. no one on this show is straight except for probably joyce.

What I’d do if I could spend the day with them: i feel like he would be cool to go hiking with!!!!

Random fact about them I like: lesbian ally riley finn

[vaniri]

Helping hand [Johnny Silverhand x V]

On their way home from Clouds, Johnny decides to end V’s life. Or help her, she is not sure anymore ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Contains all the good stuff: fingering, a bit of dirty talk (at least until V tells Johnny to shut up), Johnny being Johnny™, and public embarrassment. Does not contain: plot. Who needs that?

18+ only, obviously

As always, HUGE THANKS and I LOVE YOU to @ugh-my-back​ for helping me out with this little creation and doing the beta 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

______________________________________________________

Johnny felt almost sorry for that pathetic piece of unfortunate shit he’d been involuntarily attached to. She had a simple task – go to a brothel, get the information she needed, get laid because that’s why you go to establishments of that kind, and leave. And literally nothing went according to plan: she didn’t learn much, got fucking psychoanalyzed instead of laid, and was shot at on her way out because she had to sniff around, having the sneaking skills of a drunk teenager. Only V could have that luck.

“I said that getting off was waiting for you in Clouds? I take it back.” He mocked her, materializing in the passenger seat of her car. “Was almost right about getting offed, though.”

“Please shut up and go back to pretending you don’t exist.” Tired and exasperated after what she’d been through, she didn’t even shoot him a glance, trying to focus on the road.

“I left you there for five minutes, so you could get shagged in peace, and not only did you fuck that up but also wound up in a shooting turned massacre. You should have just fucked that doll and bailed, like any normal person would."

"We weren't there to fuck anyone, remember?"

"Yeah, and we should be. You should be. Tell me, V, is your cunt sealed with cobwebs already? Because I scoured your memories, out of boredom, and it’s been a long, loooong while since you had some action there."

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, there too.”

“You really know how to brighten the day, don’t you?”

“And you really don’t feel how sexually frustrated you are? Because I do.” He turned in his seat to face her. Being a woman was fucked up in general, he found out - all these hormones and stuff Johnny didn't even try to understand - but the level of stress she was living under was absolutely crushing. The majority of it was obviously caused by the chip and everything that was going on in V's life lately, but a part of it, not a small one, came from her sexual starvation. And lack of sleep. Or maybe her abstinence led to insomnia, Johnny wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was that she – they – were constantly tired as of late. And horny. Very horny. “And I don’t like it a bit. If I were you, I’d start jerking off right here and now.”

“Please don’t.” A look of dread flitted across her face.

“I won’t. But you should.”

“I’m driving, if you haven’t noticed. I really want to get us home in one piece, and as soon as possible.” She needed a shower and some takeout to make herself feel better, and maybe a cold one too. ”So eyes on the road, hands on the wheel.”

“Fine. I’ll lend you a hand, then.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to drive a car. You’re not corporeal, you know.”

“I was rather thinking about fingering you.”

“WHAT?”

“Eyes on the road.” He chided her, visibly amused by the utter horror showing on her face. “I’m just saying that I want to help you. No strings attached, don’t worry. Treat it as a friendly favor.”

“We aren’t friends.”

“Aww, V, that hurt.”

“Good. Now fuck off.” She seemed adamant, but he noticed that her hands, now gripping the wheel for dear life, were shaking a little. She was both abashed by the thought of being this intimate with Johnny and genuinely thinking about it. Considering. Imagining.

He knew her thoughts. He lived in her brain and he could read her like an open book. He knew exactly the effect he had on her and what she was thinking about him, he knew about her fascination and curiosity. And her constant denial about it.

It wouldn’t be hard to get what he wanted, never had been for him. And all he currently wanted was to get in her pants.

“Come on V, I’ve seen the thoughts that keep you awake at night. All of them. These about me too.” He purred, caressing her taut arm with his silver fingers. “I’m not going to tease you about them. Just want you to know that I know about your little fantasies. And appreciate your taste.”

“Sure.” She murmured, flustered.

“I will gladly show you that reality can be even better. If you let me.” He put his organic hand on her thigh. She didn’t immediately push it off, which was a promising sign. “So, what do you say? Will I get a yes? I may be an asshole and love sex way too much, but I would never go on someone without clear consent.”

“How considerate of you.”

“I’m serious, V. And I really just want to help. If you don’t blow off some steam anytime soon we’re both going to explode. Not the best way to go, trust me on that.”

Johnny saw how intensely she was thinking about it, processing what she had heard, weighing pros and cons. And he was waiting patiently for her answer, gently but not intrusively massaging her leg.

“If you ever mock me about it, or use it against me, I will rip both your silver arm and your cock off. Somehow.” She warned with a serious glare, finally giving up. She spread her legs a little, inviting his hand further, her face turning bright red.

“I would never. But eyes on the road, please.” He reminded her, an amused smile plastered on his face. His hand snuck past the hem of her trousers, rubbing the soft skin of her lower abdomen. “Smooth.”

“Not for you.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” His hand continued its journey down her groin. V’s breath hitched in her throat and body squirmed involuntarily when he dragged his fingers along her folds. “Easy girl, I barely touched you.”

“Should I maybe pull over somewhere?”

“And make a show for everyone passing the car by? Kinky.” Johnny leaned towards her, his lips nearly touching her earlobe. He was so close that V could feel his hot breath on her skin and smell the stench of his favorite cigarettes lingering on him. As if he was real, she thought. She couldn’t dwell on it for long though, not with his hand skillfully stroking her slit, up and down, in a steady pace. “Just focus on the road. And try not to come after five seconds, deal?”

He cupped her crotch and a breathy “yes” was the only response V managed to give.

Her pussy was just as Johnny had expected – hot and slick, already dripping, craving stimulation his fingers were so eager to provide. He had so many plans for her, yet so little time, considering how touch-starved and sensitive V was. He thought that maybe he should suggest to fuck her properly, but in their current position it had to wait. Slightly disappointing, but Johnny was fine with that. He loved sex, but watching his girls squirm and moan under his touch was even ten times better than coming himself.

“Nice little cunt you have here.” He tested the waters, slipping one finger in. “Tight and wet, definitely my type.”

“Just stop talking and do what you have to do.” V had a really hard time focusing on the road. She already slowed down, trying her best not to crash into a lamp or another car, and Johnny’s words were making the situation even more challenging.

“And where’s the fun in that?” He was already fingering her deeply, setting a fast pace. ”Without telling you how much I appreciate your body? By the way, have I mentioned that your tits are fucking great?” Johnny’s metal hand cupped her breast, causing soft gasp to escape her mouth. “Amazing. I’d cu-“

“Stop. Talking. PLEASE.”

“Alright, alright, mouth shut. For now.”

Watching V try to keep her body and its reactions under control, while his slick fingers with her juices started massaging her clit, was fun. And dosing her pleasure like he wanted amused Johnny even more. He stopped his ministrations every time V bucked her hips up trying to rub against his hand, or did anything to get more friction, a wry smile twisted at his lips when she shot him a furious glance or made a discontent sound. Yes, it was supposed to be a quick finger fuck, but how could he finish it so fast when he was enjoying it so much? How could he deny himself having his fun with her, having her all to himself like that, a little longer?

Johnny was reluctant to admit it, but truth to be told, he’d had his eyes on her almost from the beginning. V was a woman - an attractive one, there was no doubt for that - and he was a simple man. He couldn’t resist watching her when she was changing or taking a shower (she knew), or even sleeping sprawled on her bed, with that stupid smile on her blissful face. He wanted to see more of her, and sometimes he caught himself thinking of touching her, feeling her in this way. He tried to convince himself that he felt like that because of his fifty years of celibacy, that she wasn’t his type and it was just his cock speaking. But there was something about V, something that attracted him to her like corpo scums attracted his bullets.

And to be honest, did he even have a type? Pretty face, a pair of tits, willing cunt and nice ass - that was enough to get him going. And V fitted that description perfectly.

To V’s relief, and Johnny’s probably too as his existence depended on whether she was alive or not, their car got stuck in a traffic jam, huge as always at this hour in this part of Night City. Now she could fully focus on Johnny and his hand, working its magic in her pants.  

She shifted in her seat, adjusting her position to give him better access to her already dripping entrance. He immediately accepted her invitation, sliding a finger inside, one at first, then second, slowly, giving V time to get used to the stretch. He fingered her deeply, in a steady pace, reveling in the squelchy sounds his hand was making, smiling widely every time a breathy moan escaped her parted lips. Sometimes it was just incoherent babbling, sometimes a mantra of “fuck”s. But then, when she was close to coming, it was mostly his name.

“Such a good girl.” He praised her, getting back to stroking her clit. “Ready to cum?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop.”

“I want to feel it.”

His fingers were back inside her pussy, picking up the pace, fucking her harder than before. He was determined to give her the best finger fuck of her life, and after seeing her memories he knew that there wasn’t much to compete with. V had had several partners in her life but, obviously, none of them could measure up to Johnny Silverhand and he was keen to show her why he was so popular among women back in his days. He put his entire heart into working her cunt up and it quickly paid off. V was completely lost in pleasure; her head fell back, eyes closed, moans turned into wails.

She put out quite a show and was so busy chasing her release that she didn’t notice that the guy in the car next to theirs was watching her intensely with a mixture of concern and fascination on his face. She was sure a sight to behold: disheveled, flushed and panting like after running a marathon, and rutting her needy cunt furiously against Johnny’s hand. A hand only she could see. A sudden wave of anger surged through Johnny. Back in his younger days he was quite a fan of public sex, never afraid of being caught, and to be honest not much changed in that matter. He would gladly show this loser who V belonged to and who was making her scream, force him to bashfully avert his eyes and never look at her again. But sadly, he couldn’t, and that frustrated him immensely.

He couldn’t even show that fucker a middle finger. Being dead sucked.

“V, could you do something for me?” Luckily, he had another idea.

“What?” She opened her eyes, looking at him questioningly.

“Scream my name so loud that the entire Watson knows who's making you cum.”

She wanted to snort at his request, but her breath hitched in her throat when Johnny’s lips landed on her neck with a sloppy kiss, escaping it as a loud moan seconds later when his metal hand began working on her clit. And with his organic fingers hitting that right spot inside her, she couldn’t hold back anymore.

Never in her life had V come so hard before. She couldn't control her squirming body, nor her cussing mouth, when waves of pure ecstasy shot through her one after another. She felt her walls clench rhythmically around Johnny’s fingers, still pumping in her to prolong her orgasm, and she cried out his name, begging him to not stop. It was mind-blowing, absolutely breathtaking, and when his lips kissed her exposed neck again, she felt another kind of warmth pool in her chest.

Johnny could feel it all too. Delayed and not as intense as her climax, but strong enough to make him feel spent and satisfied. He flopped back on his seat and reached for his never ending pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a long puff, as he always did after a good fuck.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” V was slowly coming down from her orgasm high. “Holy shit.”

“And that’s all? Where’s some ‘Thanks Johnny’, ‘You were right Johnny’?”

“Thank you Johnny.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard.” He patted her thigh. “And speaking of hard, that guy in the car on our left was watching you the whole time. And he’s still looking.”

“You gotta be kidding me.” She covered her face with her hand, realizing with embarrassment that she probably gave people around her quite a show. It must have looked exceptional from their perspective. Or maybe not, maybe she looked as if she was just enjoying a BD of a particular sort. Still, she felt pretty awkward.

“Let’s get out of the car and kick his ass, wipe this stupid smile off his stupid face.”

“No.” She didn’t even want to look in that guy’s direction right now.

“Pussy. At least show him a middle finger or something.” Johnny immediately flipped him off with both hands. “Come on, V. Fucker deserves it.”

She sighed and reluctantly, still not looking at her accidental spectator, she did as Johnny asked.

[mariinara]

Hcs for Harry Flynn when he realizes that he is in love? 🥺

Awh, fuck yeah! I love me some cocky Englishman!

Well, him realizing he's absolutely smitten with somebody would just be fucking torture because he goes through the five stages of falling in love:

Step 1) BUTTERFLIES!!

- A.K.A, the "happy anxiety".

-Typically, Harry isn't the most candid of men when it comes to showing how much he loves someone, but, boy, oh boy..

-He fucking hates it when he makes a stupid joke or throws a one-liner and you reward him with one of your genuine, bright laughs. He just watches you throwing your head back, eyes closing and crinkles forming at the corners, and you just.. laugh at something he absentmindedly said.

-Don't get it wrong; it's not like Harry doesn't know he's downright charming‐ He's a hit with the ladies! But, when he feels that flutter in his abdomen? It just feels raw. Different.

-And, jesus, when you're apart? He just can't shake you off. He's good at shrugging feelings off. Always has been. Ignoring them is no problem. But coming back home to a cold, empty bed? That's probably the worst of it. And, God, he wishes you were right there next to him, making jokes and telling him all about the things you love and– oh god – what was he THINKING!? That can't be fucking right. He CAN'T be thinking like that. He just needed a drink, right? Maybe a couple. He'll get over it. It's nothing.

-But he just can't deal. He can't fucking get you out of his head. Every little thing reminds him of you. From the warmth of the sun embracing him through his window to the shower that relieves his aching muscles before he goes to bed.

Step 2) BUILDING!!!

-You and Harry have always been out with your group of friends– The Drake brothers, occasionally Chloe and Nadine if they weren't too busy– but you rarely ever go out alone.

-But that one night you did?

-You had time for each other. All the time in the world, in fact, to really just absorb each other– bask in one another's presence.

-With a couple of beers in your systems, Harry was more comfortable confiding in you when it came to childhood stories. Some anecdotes. Straight up embarrassing first dates.

-He'd point the neck of his beer bottle at you and give you a serious stare before going on to say, "Do not snitch on me with the Drakes."

-The smile and the zipping-your-mouth motion you'd do was enough for him to spill his heart out to you.

-Only then did it seem like you really saw each other in different lights.

-Harry always thought you were pretty and effortlessly funny. You thought he was handsome but quite literally the stereotypical English douchebag.

-He was.

-But peeling away at his layers was the most fascinating thing you've ever experienced.

-And him seeing more to you than just a pretty face? It nearly made him lose his whole mind on the spot, because wow you were a completely different person to him during the moments he shared with you.

-Instead of wanting to sleep with each other meaninglessly, you grew curious and interested in gathering more information about each other.

-Especially Harry, because, Good God, when you start info-dumping on him with those stars in your eyes? It feels so good and he still doesn't know why.

Step 3) ASSIMILATION!!!

-There came a time when Harry grew a pair and finally decided to ask you out on an innocent date. Just the two of you. Someplace nice.

-It went well until your social anxiety kicked in and you decided to take it on home.

-With Harry, card games and alcoholic cocktails were a MUST, so if things escalated quickly, no one would be surprised.

-It surprised both of you that it took that long, actually.

-And after messing up his sheets, sharing hot breaths and having your bodies molding together, tethered with sweat and desire, you were finally sound asleep next to him. Right there. Like he'd always wanted.

-The realization kicked in when he sobered up slightly. And, wonder of wonders, it had him absolutely freaking the fuck out. Zero to a hundred real quick.

-He couldn't fucking believe it, really. Everything he'd been hoping for has fallen into place and it was like he didn't plan that far ahead, and at that moment, looking at how peaceful you were when you slept, hair sprawled on his pillows and face turned away from him, chest calmly rising and falling, he felt like he needed to come up with a plan. Immediately.

-And he realized how much you clicked. On every level. You saw eye-to-eye in almost everything. The essentials, at least.

-And when he lazily plopped back down on his bed to take in a calming breath, he closed his eyes and raked his hands down his face, deciding that he definitely needed to make a special place for you to fit in that mess he called his life.

-It was too real. And while he thought the reality of it would terrify him and push him away, it helped gravitate him towards you. Helped keep him grounded and humble, too.

Step 4) HONESTY!!!!

-Vulnerability.

-That was the word Chloe mentioned to Harry. The "Key Word", she'd emphasized.

-As much as something like that had never crossed his mind, Chloe made it make sense to him.

-If he wants you as the one constant in his life, he needed to be as transparent about it as possible.

-Pretty much, it was a make-it or break-it situation.

-Harry doesn't remember sitting around, staring at a wall for a couple of hours, biting on his nails in anxiety. He hasn't been this way since he'd grown out of his teen years.

-Damn. You kicked him right back to childhood. And it was high time for him to accept that.

-He was a man who set his eyes on the prize and almost always got what he wanted. It was how life was for him. If he reached high enough, he could grab the stars if he wanted.

-But, no, everything he'd been looking for was right there, on earth, sitting at the same dinner table with him for years, and he was stupid enough to only flirt with you.

-And he decided.

-He was going to call you to set up another date. An important one. Made sure to tell you to "doll up" so he could hear you telling him "bite me" with that smile in your voice that amused him so much.

-He took you to his favorite spot. Drove you to the middle of a grove. No one but you two there, sitting in his classic Cadillac, and when he was ready, he turned the engine off and turned to you.

-You didn't know. You had no idea. You were beyond confused. Because what were you doing in the middle of nowhere? He wouldn't answer you. Only told you to wait and see. But he seemed different. His eyes were glossed over, like something else had completely taken over his mind. Thoughts clouded by only one thing.

-All it took for him to stop looking at you with soft, yet contemplative eyes that were practically silently begging you not to fucking break his heart because he, frankly, would not know how to recover afterwards was a gently, concerned call of his name and your touch against his knee.

-He breathed deeply. Rubbed his temples. Mumbled a "Fuck me" under his breath before chuckling. He voiced how he didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, and you reminded him that it was just you. That he could definitely trust you. That you'd be here, no matter what it is.

-You rambled on and on about how you'd always have his back. If he wanted to break up, that's fine too. You weren't even looking at him to see the look on his face when you said that. He only stared at you incredulously, like you were stupid.

-And, as usual, you made it so much easier for him to talk. To love you like he always has.

-You forced him to lurch forward and seal your lips with a kiss to shut you up, his hands cupping the sides of your neck, thumbs caressing your jawline, his hot breath shattering against your cheek when he tilted his head to deepen the kiss to feel you melt in his grasp.

-He loved it most when your shoulders grew less tense and you sighed against his lips and he'd open his eyes slightly to watch as your brows melted into that desperate arch.

-That was when he pulled away, as gently as possible, watching you slowly descend back to earth, eyes fluttering and love-drunk, staring back at him.

-And that's when he inhaled deeply and cupped your cheeks firmly, "You are such a stupid woman, has anyone ever told you that before?"

-He was exasperated. But he was soft with you, smiling gently and swallowing, eyes bouncing between yours.

-"Yeah, I might've heard that before.." You chuckled, baring that beautiful smile of yours, cheeks squishing against his hand.

-And he huffed, not being able to take how much his chest was swelling, and he spelled it out, "Fuck, I am so in love with you.."

-You couldn't believe it. Didn't process it at first. It was every single cog in your brain stopped turning.

-But when it sank in, you almost cried out. In both relief and happiness. He wasn't breaking up with you; but he was in love with you, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't waiting for it.

-With a barrage of kisses that had him making surprised noises, you professed your requited love for the man you began to straddle in the car seat, catching him off guard, but relieving him and letting him hold you close, all the same.

Step 5) STABILITY!!!

-Shit, from that moment on?

-Everything moved so fast.

-Even the two years you'd been dating. You didn't even feel them. Celebrating your second anniversary was the weirdest.

-Especially that you realized you were celebrating it in your shared home, on that faithful fall morning, when summer had just ended and everyone could breathe again.

-Getting to discover each other, share your life, food, laughter, smiles, even the small bickering and childish arguments like "you took the whole cover last night and I had to sleep with my bum out for the air conditioning to eat out" only fortified what you had.

-Contrary to what everyone thought of Harry, he was extremely supportive and he gave the best hugs.

-He was the best person to travel with, go on adventures with, have a picture album with, and drunkily makeout with during a boring Netflix movie, frankly.

-You would literally never could've thought it would end up being so perfect for the two of you. Just two flawed humans making the best out of each other and accepting the bad, since it was nothing you.

-Neither of you tried to change the other. You only made sure to be there when needed. And you worked it out in the end, whatever it was.

-As for Harry?

-He has never felt more fulfilled.

-Nothing in this damn world would tie him down, but he realized that having someone to love and for them to love you back like you two did never tied him down, it only sort of set him free in a way he never knew he needed.

-He might've progressed through the five stages, but that never meant that he didn't go back to step one every time you did a thing he loved.

-He was just a big softie for you!

[witchyspell]

Fear of Losing You

pairing: Jimmy Darling x gender neutral!reader

summary/request: Jimmy darling x male reader: dandy and reader both meet at a show and hit it off...spending more time with dandy ment less with jimmy...jimmy being jealous decides to get your attention 💖 requested by @kingreidx

word count: 2.5k+

warnings: swearing, alcohol abuse (very drunk jimmy), angst and fluff ofc, dandy’s god complex

A/N: i’m sorry this took so long! i’ve just been overwhelmed lately and suffering from, you guessed it, writer’s block. this made me want to watch freak show for the third time, i love that season so much...anyway, i hope you enjoy! :)

IMPORTANT NOTE: this request originally asked for a male!reader’s perspective. however, more than half way through, i realized i hadn’t mentioned any specific pronouns to designate the reader and that there were no details that implied their gender. i decided to change it to a gender neutral perspective so anyone (including a male reader) could read it. i hope you understand!

[full credit to the owner of this gif!]

Eight months ago, you met the most caring and thoughtful person, Jimmy Darling. Never in your entire life had you ever encountered such a selfless and considerate soul. His laughter was unbelievably contagious and his charm so strong. His sole presence lit up any room instantly.

You first saw him when you attended Fräulein Elsa’s Cabinet of Curiosities or in other words, the town’s freak show. The idea of spending actual money to watch people perform and be treated like circus animals made you sick. They were still human no matter how they looked or what deformities they possessed, but your parents thought otherwise. They insisted it would be amusing and a ‘nice outing’.

You went anyway, the idea of defying your parents way too risky. Little did you know, that that evening, you’d meet the person who would soon become the light of your life.

From the moment he stepped on stage, you were immediately captivated. His chestnut curls drooped down over his forehead. And his eyes, despite being dark, shone under the stage lights. You didn’t notice anything unusual about him until he removed his hands from behind his back.

“These pinchers dont hold me back,” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Watch me juggle!”

The ‘pinchers’ in question resembled exactly that. They were quite large and his index and middle finger fused together as well as his ring and little finger.

The crowd oohed and aahed but you remained mostly unfazed. You studied his face a little longer, sensing something was off. Behind that joyful, cheery facade he looked unhappy, almost embarrassed.

His gaze caught yours as he wrapped up his performance, offering a smile to the audience (which you now knew wasn’t genuine) and showing off his abnormal hands one last time. Later that night, you introduced yourself to Jimmy Darling and entered his atypical, curious world.

✾ ✾ ✾

Sitting on one of the squeaky wooden chairs, you watched and absentmindedly listened as Bette and Dot practiced their singing for the upcoming show. Rehearsals had eventually become tedious and repetitive, since you never participated in the performances.

Your job was to sell tickets, and sell tickets you did. You also welcomed the spectators as they entered the show’s grounds, plastering on the biggest grin you could possibly muster.

You loved spending time and bonding with everyone but it was getting old. So old, you’d sometimes miss the show and wait in the makeup tent until you had to escort the audience out.

A quick peck to your cheek pulled you out of your thoughts and you blinked, your eyes readjusting to the intense show lights. You looked up and saw Jimmy watching you intently, waiting for you to react to his presence. He looked concerned when you didn’t respond and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your frame.

“Everythin’ alright, sweetheart?” Jimmy asked, cocking his head to the side.

You didn’t want to worry him so you simply nodded. What would you even tell him? That you were unhappy? That was false. You just craved something exciting...new.

“I’m fine, Jimmy. Really, I was just lost in thought that’s all,” you reassured him.

“Will you come to the show tonight, then?” Jimmy asked, pouting at you. He knew you couldn’t possibly refuse him, especially when he made that adorable face. You paused, feigning considering his offer before assuring him you were only teasing. “If you insist.”

He opened his mouth, most likely to make a witty comment, but you shut him up. You brushed your thumb over his cheek and leaned in, ever so softly kissing his pouty lips. He pulled you in even closer and you rested your head on his shoulder, watching the lights flicker as Dot’s voice echoed through the tent’s walls.

✾ ✾ ✾

Great amounts of people were rapidly flooding in, creating a large crowd. By the looks of it, tonight was going to be very busy and you were certainly not complaining. Lots of people meant lots of tips, which meant lots of publicity and propaganda for the show.

After gathering everyone and selling an impressive amount of tickets, it was nearly show time. You rushed to the makeup tent and made sure everyone was ready to perform, the perfectionist side of you definitely spilling out a little.

Elsa was the opening act, her voice never ceasing to amaze you. As you entered the tent, you spotted Jimmy pacing back in forth, seemingly nervous.

You walked over to him. “Jimmy, love...Is everything okay?” Concern laced your voice and you furrowed your eyebrows. He wasn’t a stranger to stage fright, on the contrary, it was a regular occurrence for him but it was rarely that bad.

“There’s- God, there’s so many people out there, Y/N! I don’t know if I can do it,” he shakily spoke, looking pale as a ghost.

“You’ve done this countless times, Jimmy! It’s just a few more people than usual, you can do it,” you soothed, your words only mildly reassuring him.

He shook his head and closed his eyes, the anxiety becoming overbearing. “No, it’s not the same-“

“I know it isn’t but there is absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? You always do great, tonight won’t be any different,” you engulfed him in a tight embrace and spoke in his ear. “Now, go show ‘em what you got.”

He smiled at you, whispered a quick ‘I love you’ and darted out of the tent. You followed him, confirmed every single performer was all set to go and sat in the audience. The lights dimmed, plunging the room in complete darkness and the curtains were drawn to reveal Elsa in beautiful makeup and a just as beautiful dress. Her graceful voice deeply moved you, feeling almost transported by it.

You subtly glanced around towards the end of her performance, trying to discern the look on people’s faces. Most of them looked disappointed, but you weren’t surprised. They were here for the ‘freaks’, not the real talent after all.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, a particular someone caught your eye.

He appeared to be in his mid twenties and was the textbook definition of ‘tall, dark and handsome’. He had slicked back seemingly black hair, perfectly parted down the middle. His baby blue irises, although adverted towards the stage, were still visible and bright. He wore an elegant, unique striped suit that probably cost ten times more than the most expensive item you owned.

Next to him sat an older, strawberry blonde woman who you assumed was his mother. It was clear they were significantly wealthy from their luxurious clothing.

Your attention was still fixated on the young man. Something about him was intriguing, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Elsa had long left the stage by now and it was time for the others to shine. He looked mesmerized by everyone on stage. The fascination in his eyes was blatantly obvious, like a child in a candy shop.

He must have felt someone staring because his gaze met yours rather abruptly. You quickly spun your head back around, caught off guard. Slightly embarrassed, you shyly peered at him from the corner of your eye to make sure he was no longer paying attention to you.

Much to your surprise, he was now staring at you, an unreadable expression plastered on his face. He didn’t smile or nod, just stared. Jimmy appeared on stage just as you were beginning to get slightly anxious. You beamed at him, mouthing a silent ‘you got this’ and he flashed you his signature alluring grin in return.

The stranger still rumbled through your mind as you watched your boyfriend juggle four, five...six bowling pins. As soon as the show ended, you were about to make your way backstage to congratulate Jimmy, when a foreign male voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Excuse me?”

You hesitantly turned around and found yourself face to face with no other than the dapper young man. “Yes?” you answered skeptically.

“I noticed you speaking with one of the freaks earlier. Do you, perhaps, happen to work here?” he asked. You cringed at his choice of words but knowing correcting him wouldn’t get you anywhere, you ignored it.

“Uh, yes I do.” The awkward tension in the air was undeniably present and you slightly stuttered.

“Fascinating! You aren’t one of them I presume. You seem perfectly attractive...” he started. “Tell me, how is it living with freaks?” Your face, once again, twisted in disgust at his poor wording but you stayed calm. Jimmy on the other hand would have been fuming. The man before you had a posh way of speaking, his voice matching his wealth. It was drastically different from what you heard on a day to day basis.

“I didn’t even introduce myself! How foolish of me! Forgive me, my name is Dandy Mott,” he exclaimed, disregarding his previous question and holding his hand out.

You hesitantly took it. “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” Dandy’s grip was strong as you shook his hand. He gave you a heartfelt, closed mouthed smile and bid you goodbye.

“I’ll certainly be looking forward to seeing you again, Y/N.”

✾ ✾ ✾

Ever since your first encounter with Dandy, he attended every single show with no exception. You had grown to enjoy his company even though he was strange at times. Both of you would often go on picnics and walks through town. You, of course, made sure he understood it was purely platonic. You might have been spending less time with Jimmy, but you still remained faithful. He respected your boundaries and didn’t make any advances.

Dandy was different and you liked that about him. You needed something different. Before him, every day felt the exact same and it was painfully exhausting.

Everything was going smoothly until one night, Dandy shared his beliefs about him being ‘a supreme being’. He had hinted at it before, but you brushed it off, thinking it was nothing more than an eccentric pleasantry. You were both standing in front of the freak show’s gates and its frightening entrance when he unveiled that side of himself.

“I am a god!” he had cried out. You were at a loss for words, not believing he truly felt that way at first.

“Is this some kind of joke?” you asked.

“No, this isn’t a joke! This is what I was destined to be. Don’t you get it?” Dandy was becoming more and more agitated by the second, stepping dangerously closer to you. “I would have preferred to tell you this somewhere more...formal. But here we are.”

“Dandy-”

“I thought you of all people would understand, Y/N. Why do you always have to make things so painfully complicated?” he sighed, sounding exasperated.

“Please Dandy...” Your voice trembled. “Leave, I just n-need you to leave.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically once again. “You really are insufferable, aren’t you?” Right as he was reaching for you arm, Eve appeared.

“Y/N, there you are! There’s- uh, you see Jimmy-“ she fumbled over her words and you took it as an opportunity to flee the scene. You trusted Eve would take care of Dandy and send him home.

You entered the show’s campus and were immediately stunned by what you saw. A small, familiar crowd of people gathered around Jimmy as he flailed his arms around, nearly dropping and smashing the whiskey bottle in his right hand. His shirt was stained with what appeared to be sweat and vomit, from drinking all night. You immediately rushed over to him.

“Oh, look who finally showed up! Have fun with that prick? You manage to remove that stick up his ass yet?” he slurred, sarcastically tipping his hat at you.

“Are you insane? What the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-yelled, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to his caravan.

“Come on, Y/N! You’re no fun! I was just explaining to them how you ditched me for some rich jerk,” Jimmy blabbered on, nearly tripping over himself.

He dragged his feet in the dirt, ruining his already worn out shoes and dropped the bottle to the ground, completely shattering it. He muttered a simple ‘oops’, chuckling to himself. You practically shoved him inside the caravan and he stumbled onto the bed.

“Get up, you’re filthy,” you demanded, the stench of his clothes unbearable.

“So, this is what I have to do for you to notice me? Get shit-faced?” He sat up, a now hurt expression on his face.

“You know that’s not true,” you settled beside him and he raised his arms, a whiff of sweat hitting your nose instantly. You peeled off the dirty garment from his skin and threw it on the floor, at the foot of the bed. You gently tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at you. His breath reeked of booze but you ignored it.

“I thought I lost you,” Jimmy whispered, tears pricked at his eyes and threatened to fall down.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to distance myself from you, I just-“ you paused, contemplating your words. “I can’t live like this anymore, Jimmy. Not here. And I know it sounds selfish because it hasn’t even been a year, but it’s the truth. I just can’t.” Your voice cracked as a tight knot formed in your throat, and you desperately searched Jimmy’s face for anything that could indicate how he was feeling.

“Come here.”

You leaped into his arms as your tears wet his bare chest. Sobs racked your body as you finally let go of everything you kept bottled in and hidden deep within yourself. Jimmy’s calloused fingers soothingly rubbed circles on the exposed skin of your back while you cried, before slowly pulling away. You peered up at him with glassy eyes, your lower lip trembling.

“I’m so sorry for everything, Jimmy. Dandy he-“ you shakily started but Jimmy was quick to shush you.

“Shh...it’s okay, baby. I forgive you,” he warmly smiled. His eyes suddenly lit up, an imaginary lightbulb shining over his head. “Now, what do you say we run away together?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at his outrageous proposition. So many questions ran through your mind but you chose the obvious one.

“Are you serious?” you asked, utterly baffled. Jimmy burst in a fit of laughter, his adoration for you clearer than ever.

“Of course I am! All I want is a shot at a normal life...with you.” He grinned from ear to ear, his beautiful face radiating with joy causing your heart to flutter.

“Then yes, without a doubt,” you said, tearing up once more. “I love you. ”

“And I love you,” Jimmy murmured, softly pressing his lips to the top of your head and laying down, lulling you both to sleep.

[miceenscene]

N7 Month - Day 20

Stars

The Normandy seemed to be holding its breath as they crossed the galaxy, every soul aboard knowing and fearing what waited for them on the other side of the relay. Garrus himself was no different. The temptation to spend the remaining night pacing the Main Battery and planning for every conceivable outcome was beguiling. But there was something that he wanted more. Or rather, someone he wanted more. 

So he’d gathered up his courage and the bottle of wine he’d purchased over a year ago and made his way to the elevator. The low tapping of his boot was the only noise in the otherwise silent ride up to the top level.

The doors to the cabin opened automatically as Garrus approached, and his gut clenched as he laid eyes on Shepard. She was standing at her fish tank, one arm and her forehead pressed to the glass, eyes a million miles away. A moment too slow, she blinked and looked his way.

“Garrus,” she said, stepping away from the wall. Fatigue was written in her every subtle movement, who knew how long she’d just been standing there.

“Hey…” He grinned slightly and brandished the bottle. “I brought wine.”

She chuckled once, obviously catching his reference. “Best you could afford on a reaper advisor’s salary?”

“Yeah. So it should be pretty good.” He stepped closer, noticing the dark circles under her eyes now. He almost wished he hadn’t seen them. “Do you mind if I join you?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. Fish were getting boring to look at anyway.”

They moved to the couch, Shepard sitting down with a low sigh. As she stretched out her ever stiff shoulder, Garrus poured the wine into the glasses on the table. “How are you feeling?” he asked after he sat down perpendicular to her.

She ran a hand through her hair. “Oh, I tried sleeping for a while, but I gave up on that about an hour ago… or a few months ago, depending on how you count it.” It had the cadence of a joke, but it felt a little too close to the truth for Garrus to find it truly funny. “Any news from the Hierarchy?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“Nothing new,” he quickly answered. He hadn’t come here to talk business, but admittedly broaching his intended topic was a bit more daunting than it seemed downstairs.

“How about your family? Were… were they on the Citadel?”

He hadn’t come here to talk about them either. “No, thank Spirits. They’re on Tuchanka last I heard.”

“Probably the safest place in the whole galaxy right now,” she replied, obviously trying to comfort him.  

“Yeah.” He just needed to go for it, or at least direct the conversation that way so they didn’t fall into their usual patterns. “I was thinking earlier about how odd it is that it always works out like this.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“There’s always the wait before the end, the quiet before the storm,” he explained, handing her a glass before taking the other. “There was the night before Ilos and then… those few hours before Omega-4. And now… tonight.”

She swirled her glass and thought for a moment. “You’re right. Huh. Never noticed that before.” Her gaze turned his direction. “This is why I keep you around.”

“And for my good looks, of course,” he added.

That made a true smile cross her face, bright and so rare these days. “You are quite the looker,” she mused into her glass. Maybe it was just his imagination, but there didn’t seem to be quite enough of a joking tone in her voice. Either way, he let himself truly hope for the first time in over a year.

She held up her glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To… second chances.”

There was just enough of a shift in her expression that he knew she’d understood him. Still, she backed off, dropping his gaze and plastering a rueful grin across her face. “And thirds and fourths and fifth chances too.” The glasses clinked together, and he noticed that Shepard took a larger than usual swig. She blew out a breath and glanced his way, though she seemed to be paying unusual attention to the glass in her hand. “I’m… I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Her jaw shifted, obviously she was debating something internally. Years of experience with her just made him calmly wait, it would be worth it. 

“Honestly, I, ah… I’m kind of surprised to be seeing you right now.”

He frowned slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d… you’d be with Tali,” she finished quickly, as if ripping off a bandage.

His frown deepened. “Tali?” What? “Why?”

Her free hand drifted up to rub at the back of her neck uneasily. “I… caught the end of a few conversations between you two recently,” she admitted slowly.

“And…?”

Her eyes lifted to his, widening as if she expected more of a response from him. Which just served to confuse him more.

“Do you really not know?” she asked, now matching his confusion.

“Apparently not.”

Her words came out slow, as if she was picking each one with extreme care. “She was definitely flirting with you, Garrus.” 

His confusion turned abruptly to surprise. “Really?” Mentally, he ran through the last few conversations he remembered with Tali. Were there tells that he’d missed or ignored somehow?

“How did you not know?” she asked, the words bobbing with slight amusement. “It wasn’t subtle.”

“I don’t--! I had no idea--Spirits, I probably owe her an apology now.” He pressed the palm of his hand so his forehead.

“Probably.” She snickered quietly, but Garrus didn’t even bother trying to bring himself to mind. She was beautiful when she smiled--well, she was always beautiful, but she became resplendent when she smiled. Though there was enough of a bitter tint to her expression that he decided to fire a shot across the bow. It was time.

“Even--” He cleared his throat and started again. “Even if I had known her intentions, I would have turned her down.”

She looked at him, a guarded expression appearing on her face. “You would?”

He nodded. “Tali’s great and a very dear friend. But… well, someone caught my eye a long time ago, and I’m not going to be changing my mind anytime soon.”

She set down her glass, the corners of her mouth downturning and her hand returning to the back of her neck. “Doubtful that they’re so deserving of your patience.”

“She is.” He palpably felt her gaze meet his. All the air in the cabin suddenly vanished. “You are,” he added, needing her to understand him without pretense.

But she shied away, looking away and pulling back. “Garrus,” she sighed.

“Shepard.” He leaned forward, taking her hand in his and claiming her attention. “If you… regret Omega-4 or--or you… changed your mind, tell me now, and I will never mention this again for the rest of my life, I promise.” Every heartbeat thudded in his ears as he waited for her to confirm his deepest fears. But a minute passed, and she was silent. Relief swept through his person, making his head swim slightly. “But if it’s just… bad timing…”

“Of course it’s bad timing.” She pulled away, running both hands through her hair now. He let himself remember how silky it felt between his fingers, how it shimmered in the light from the fish tank, how she smiled at his fascination. “My whole life is bad timing.”

“I think there are many in this galaxy who would disagree,” he replied, scooting a little closer to her.

“My timing with… with the important stuff then. The things that matter just to me.” She dropped back against the couch, frowning deeply. “Can’t ever seem to make those line up--born under some bad stars, I guess.” 

“Turians don’t really believe in fate.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I did either.” Till I met you, her eyes finished when she looked his way. 

“Maybe I can change your mind then,” he said, leaning towards her and tipping his subvocals into flirtatious octaves. He was mostly seeking to snap her out of this downward spiral she’d found herself in. And she did, a smirk lifting a corner of her mouth for a moment, but she still looked away with a slight shake of her head.

“You deserve more than just a few hours before the end, Garrus.” 

“I’ll take what I can get,” he replied, scooting close enough to press his side against hers and gently take her hand again.

She didn’t move away, but she shook her head more this time. “You deserve more than me--”

“Shepard,” he cut her off before she could finish that ridiculous insult of a sentence. 

But she pressed on. “I’m sorry that I held back, I am. But I--”

“Jane.” The name no one ever called her anymore finally stopped her. He cupped her cheek, thumb stroking softly over her freckles as he studied her face for a moment. “I understood--I understand,” he assured her. “It’s ruthless calculus, but you’re not deciding between strangers, you’re deciding which of your friends to bring with you on life-threatening missions. And you have to make that decision possible for yourself. I get it, I do.”

“There’s that, yes. But…” Whether it was the shadowy lighting in the cabin, or perhaps how closely he was seeing her, but she’d never looked so exhausted as she did right then--stretched impossibly wide and given the weight of the galaxy to bear. A thin hum of worry eked from his subvocals. “It’s no secret how much of this war is counting directly on me. And I knew that at the end of the day, I’d have nothing left in me to give you. You deserved more, you deserved better… You still do.”

“Jane…” Her name came out soft, caressing and pleading all at once. He dipped his head to press his brow against hers. “You are what I want… for everything that you are and everything that you aren’t. I just want you. No more, no less.” Her eyes went wide then all at once she collapsed into him. He pulled her onto his lap, into his arms. Her face tucked against his neck and arms wound around his carapace. A deep part of him unclenched to finally be holding her again. It had been far too long.

For a long while, they were quiet. Garrus combed his fingers through her hair and savored just how right it felt to be with her like this. There were few things in the galaxy that felt as right as this did, despite their differences. 

“I want you too,” she whispered before lifting her head to meet his gaze. She still looked tired, but there was a peace in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’ve wanted you so for long.”

“I’m right here. Always have been, always will.”

Her fingertips traced over the broken colony markings on his scarred mandible as she nodded slowly. “Is it too soon to say ‘I love you’?”

The galaxy completely unraveled and then re-wove itself in the two seconds following her question. He’d never dared… well, his heart was always a bit too headstrong to be fully curbed when it came to Shepard, but this was certainly far beyond his expectations for the evening. Wasn’t that always the way with her?

Breathless and more than just stunned, he shook his head.

She smiled softly. “I love you, Garrus Vakarian. Have for a very long time.”

Despite the fact that he was sitting down with Shepard straddling him, Garrus suddenly felt as if he may very well float away. He pulled her closer and pressed his brow to hers again. “Jane,” he barely managed to say around his subvocals resounding his return of her feelings. If he loved her less, he might be able to say it better.

She laughed slightly, a hand cupping the back of his head. “I know. It’s okay. You don’t--”

However, he shook his head and sat back. She deserved to hear it in a way she could understand. “I love you too,” he said, breathless with joy. “So much.”

She closed the distance to kiss him, exuberantly and pressing so close she could slip under his carapace. It was every bit as perfect as he’d remembered even though it was cut short as they both couldn’t stop smiling. 

“I didn’t think I’d get this far tonight,” he admitted, still grinning. Perhaps he’d never stop.

She laughed and then kissed him tenderly. “Well, we do need to make up for lost time.”

“We have plenty of time still ahead of us.”

Hope bloomed in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“As sure as the stars.”

Ao3 Version

[hopeymchope]

Magia Record: Reflecting on the Anime and the Game’s Story Ending

With Magia Record's story now complete in-game and with the anime "finished" (only the first season, but it took until literally this past weekend for the production team at Shaft to acknowledge that the second season is coming/inevitable), I have like… a ton of thoughts about where the game and the anime landed.

This will probably mostly be gripes, but overall, I'm still pretty happy with both. I've invested my past year into Magia Record during a lot of my free time, and hey – no regrets here. That game was absolutely worth the experience. The anime? Jury's still out somewhat, but it looks good so far.

This is definitely a normal thing to find surrounding a radio tower.

Anime Adaptation Thoughts:

The original Madoka Magica anime made the world feel slightly off-kilter by employing locations that were just a little off the rails from reality. The producers noted Madoka's bathroom as an important example; it's simply too large and has too much wasted space. It's maybe the biggest room in their house for no discernible reason, and that's by design, because it feels wrong. Another one was the music store we see in the first episode, where the technology is noticeably on a level that you just can't find in any real shop. On the flip side, the Magia Record anime creates a world that is deeply bizarre in many ways – much moreso than the original anime or the Magia Record game world. This is probably because the creator of the witch designs in the original was given far more creative control over the series as a whole this time around, and the result was BUGNUTS. Take note of the massive stack of discarded school desks that is arranged in a dangerous, precarious pile atop the school building (helpfully labeled as a waste pile, despite the fact that… well, who is picking up these garbage desks from the goddamn roof?). That's some imagery straight out of a witch's labyrinth, but it is ostensibly "reality." I think that's where Magia Record's anime really goes bugnuts, sometimes to powerful effect in that it makes things feel more unsettling… and sometimes to ridiculous effect. I mean, the field surrounding the radio tower now being replaced with a yard of jagged, cockeyed, towering gravestones and cross-like woodwork dangling with ropes and tridents? That's a LOT. That's… that's too much.

Look, if you were a die-hard fan of Kaede in the game, I am deeply sorry, because your girl got done DIRTY by the anime. Anyone who played the game who then sees where she winds up at the end of episode 12 is likely on a train straight to Double-You Tee Eff Station. I can't deny that it makes sense for the limited story she's given to develop across, but it was still disappointing to see. I suppose we don't really have the time to develop up all of the other characters from the game, so somebody had to sub in for this role… but oof.

Sana's backstory with her family is not nearly explained or explored enough in the show. I honestly think it comes off as confusingly unclear why they treated her like this or why they didn't notice her vanish at all. The game justifies this devastatingly well, but it feels like it's not clear at all here.

I think they could've had Kyubey run around Kamihama for part of the first season before he got ousted/blocked, and I think it would've been beneficial to do so. Now, that's not just because I love his character and find him fascinating, although that's definitely true, but it's also because there's so much exposition that I wish he could deliver to the characters about what's happened before we got here. Like, the tragic truth about Felicia's backstory is wonderfully awful, and I wish there was some way to deliver that into the anime, but I don't think it's possible without a ton of flashbacks. (And to be fair, players of the game may never know it without playing her particular Magical Girl Story.)

The change to not having Mami attack Yachiyo when they first meet was something I felt was a positive move. I loved that Mami got to have a moment she never had in the game during the Radio Tower arc, too. In generally, I enjoyed the slower, more piecemeal involvement of the original Holy Quintet, which has served as nice slow tease compared to having them be more upfront in the game. I did kind of miss the Madoka/Homura involvement in the radio tower case, but I ultimately came away feeling like it was better to save those two for later in the story because they're probably the best-known characters from the original series.

The combat soundtrack is exquisite - maybe better than ever before, honestly. The Magia Record anime has the best fight music in the series outside of, say, Rebellion.

Game's Ending Thoughts: (Spoilers Within)

The anime cutscenes in the final chapter are delightful.

Puella Magi has never shied away from having its characters die in the original anime or in the many manga stories. I'd argue that those deaths are at least part of what makes it such a successful subversion of the Magical Girl formula; the threat of death (often via witchiness) establishes the idea of there being permanent consequences that simple hope and faith and love can't overcome in spite of what those other anime may have told you. On the other hand, Magia Record turns out to have very close to zero consequences. Aside from established deaths from flashbacks that have occurred before the game even begins, by the end of the game, literally no one dies. Not even the most blatantly psychotic character is allowed to shuffle off her mortal coil; she just "disappears" and escapes. I particularly like (please note the sarcasm) how three different characters do some kind of "super-move" during the final two chapters that is said to most likely kill them, and yet they all survive them! At least ONE character winds up with some paralysis, but jeez, the others walk away completely unscathed. I can only hope the anime doesn't go quite so weak in the knees about any of the characters suffering actual consequences from the potentially-world-ending-level battles that occur.

I previously griped that I actually expected the psychos responsible for the entire storyline to get off scot-free, and although they don't get off 100% free and clear by the time the credits role, they come extremely close to doing so. However, I was really happy with the "Cherry Blossom Dreams" epilogue event, because there is dialogue in there that has the Magius admit that whatever guilt they have now, they are still capable of being complete sociopaths who want to dominate the Earth. That one person's presence (Ui) shouldn't be (and isn't) enough to keep them from being incredibly dangerous. Ultimately, the solution/punishment they receive is probably the best one available in light of their overall survival. Well done.

Speaking of the Magius, I mean… is it really possible that so many feathers never questioned that they were following a couple of 11/12-year-olds and one blatantly obvious psychotic? I guess having face time with the Magius was pretty rare, but there was still enough that some of the feathers declared their allegiance was primarily to those three above all else. And most magical girls range closer to 16 than to 11, I mean, y'know? Which is practically an eternity in terms of maturity. So I guess MIfuyu did a lot of heavy lifting on NOT making them seem like absolutely the worst possible choices for leadership, huh? (And for that reason: Mifuyu got off fucking LIGHT.)

Aaaand speaking of "one obvious psychotic," I find it funny how almost nobody knows Alina outside of her Magius role except for Karin. Because, just… it's so perfect. Karin (who is not a "Karen") happens to be the most insanely tolerant person when it comes to Alina. She seems to shrug off Alina's entire everything as amusing, forgivable quirks. Perhaps because so many people believe Karin's own obsession with Halloween is a weirdly morbid quirk, Karin doesn't even question Alina's obsession with making art about death using actual human remains. Which is… funny? No, seriously. I think it's legitimately comedic in a good way. But it should probably be much more alarming to me that she doesn't care. I'd like to think that Karen feels it's just delightfully Halloween-y for Alina to paint her canvas with legit blood, and I do believe Karin isn't really the kind of person who would ask where the blood came from because whatever, it's probably fine, better get back to planning my pageant or something. She probably even thinks Alina's skulls are plastic Halloween decorations. :P

We need to talk about Mami: Mami in "Another Story Chapter 9" felt so off and out-of-character compared to how she was written in things like Rebellion or A Different Story or Wraith Arc, and furthermore, despite that chapter being entirely about Mami wanting to just be a simple peer with no superiority over the rest of the Holy Quintet, Another Story Chapter 10 has her immediately revert back to being the smart senpai character, further cementing how weirdly "off" Chapter 9 felt. I realize they had something difficult to write, here, though. It's painful how Sayaka has to run middlewoman between Kyoko and Mami in Chapter 10 of AS. I feel like I could write a whole screed about Kyoko's behavior across the franchise and how difficult a character she is for me to like even though I "get it" and don't think she's necessarily a bad person; she's just living on the edge of being almost a total hypocrite basically ALL THE TIME. The conclusion where Kyoko acknowledges that she's going to continue to work with Mami and the others semi-regularly in spite of everything is really the best closure you can hope for with her. She's too antagonistic to give us much else, and she prefers it that way. It would take years to see her mellow.

At this point, it seems safe to assume that there isn't going to be any "season 2" of the game like what happened with Fate/Grand Order after its finale. The main narrative is well and truly done, and it's just going to be various events from here on out. Is that enough to keep me around? Um. I don't know. Probably not? Hard to say. I don't really know what other mobile game to throw my heart into. I've considered Attack on Titan Tactics, but like… Attack on Titan hasn't been kind to me lately so uhhhhh.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Mirror | Mirror

Crossover (Marvel x Star Wars)

*Loki & Ben Solo*

Genre: Humor, Friendship

Words: 7.1k

Warning: one spoiler for the latest star wars movie, I guess...

Summary: A story of what happens when two lost souls who deserved better end up forming an unlikely alliance to escape a golden prison.

A.N.: I know this doesn't exactly follow the Marvel nor the Star Wars logic, but I hope it will bring you joy in its very own right 💚💚✨✨

Also check out my Masterlist!

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It started completely at random… Loki was strolling through the halls of Valhalla, inevitably bored out of his mind. He didn't really see his place among those self proclaimed heroes and mighty fallen soldiers, and deep down he realized that he probably didn't deserve to be here in the first place (in his eyes, at least). The entire concept of dying annoyed him greatly in general, and he would've loved to do absolutely anything BUT sitting in the grand, golden halls and do absolutely nothing day in day out. At one point he had considered if he should just cause all the mayhem possible (and impossible, for he liked a challenge), so that he would get kicked out of here eventually, but after weeks of fruitless attempts, he had to realize that he couldn't (as of yet…) escape the everlasting, sickening contentment of eternity. So while everyone else was feasting literally ALL THE TIME, Loki wandered the great halls by himself, thinking that this was exactly like Asgard, only more crowded. And even more golden.

But one day, Loki came across an enormous mirror, framed in the same boring gold he had come to despise so much by now. Yet, this mirror caught his interest, for it seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, no sooner than over the course of the last day. Valhalla wasn't really filled with vain decorations like that, usually.

With a deep frown, Loki went on to inspect the mirror (it was something to do, at last!) with the utmost attention, but all he really found was his own reflection. As he walked on however, ready to leave the silly mirror behind, he caught a glimpse of something quite different than his own reflection, barely registered it out of the corners of his eye, but he was more than certain that it was there. Another inspection… same results. It was an ordinary mirror, by all means. But whenever he attempted to step away, he would feel the eyes of another following his every move, watching him out of the mirror. He found it both unsettling and fascinating to equal measure.

For the next time, Loki was more attentive towards his surroundings (he always was, really) and shot every reflecting surface a questioning glare that he was certain to be returned just the same. Only that it didn't come from his own eyes. He felt watched and followed in his every move, until at last he returned to the mirror in the hallway nobody but him ever seemed to set foot into.

"I know you're there, and whoever you are, I demand that you show yourself to me." He ordered sternly, but quietly enough to not disturb the dreadful silence that ruled everywhere but in the hall of the everlasting feast. Nothing. So Loki went on to sit in front of the mirror, legs crossed at the ankles as he leaned against a marble pillar and simply stared at the mirror. He was absolutely certain that something or someone was watching him, and he was dead set to find out who it was.

"You know, I have all of eternity to wait for you to show yourself." Loki commented with a condescending sigh that was rather badly feigned, for his measure at least. No, he was all but annoyed, all but knowing… he was curious, and unfortunately more hopeful than he cared to admit even to himself.

"So do I…" A deep voice answered him suddenly, and Loki jumped to his feet in an instant as he prepared to defend himself from whoever this person, this man in the mirror was. He still couldn't see a single thing but his own reflection, but he had heard the voice very clearly and definitely not in his head.

"I can't see you, but you seem to see me. Don't you think that's a bit unfair?" Loki spoke again, careful, as he circled the mirror like a predator. Only that he felt more like prey at the moment, and he didn't like that feeling at all.

"I would call that a blemish of circumstance, not a matter of fairness." The man replied just as doubtfully as Loki felt at the moment.

"But I'm not specifically what you would call a patient person." Loki said as he came to stand back in front of the mirror, daggers drawn just in case.

"If I'm wasting your time, you can always go back to sulking in that golden hall everyone seems to take so much pleasure in…" The voice commented almost in amusement, and Loki rolled his eyes at the mention of the feasting hall nobody ever really bothered to leave. Afterlife unfortunately meant an EVERLASTING feast indeed, for all who were into that kind of thing.

"Maybe we should start this whole thing over again." Loki finally said with a sigh and let his blades disappear a moment later. In all seriousness, what did he have to lose? He was dead already, and it wasn't like this man could do any more harm to him than that. So he dropped his hostile and arrogant facade for a moment and went with truthfulness… maybe that would get him further. "You CAN see me, I assume…"

"Yes." The man replied calmly, obviously going along with his attempt to drop the hostility from the conversation.

"And how are you in the mirror?" Loki asked rather bluntly, but he didn't know how to phrase the question in any way that would've sounded more intelligent.

"I… I'm in a mirror?" He spoke in an almost weary way that made Loki rise his eyebrows in return. "I died, and now I'm here…"

Oh… so the man had died just as Loki had… but somehow he had ended up in a different dimension than the one Loki currently inhabited. That at least explained why Loki could actually talk to him, for conversing with a living, breathing being from up (or down?) here in Valhalla wasn't really entirely possible. As of yet.

"I'm in Valhalla. And as you are speaking to me through a mirror in Valhalla, I believe you must be here as well, in a way…" Loki spoke before he could keep the little snippet of information to himself. But what did it hurt to tell this stranger?

"Valhalla?" The man asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes. Hall of the fallen warriors, place of eternal feasts and so on and so forth…"

"You're dead as well?"

"Obviously."

"But there are people around you."

"... obviously?" Loki frowned deeply as he started pacing back and forth in front of the mirror. "I assume your afterlife is of a different kind?"

"Oh yes. I am alone, but for the haze I can see through into your world… your 'Valhalla'. It must be the Force that connects me to your world…"

"The 'Force'?" Loki rose an eyebrow and stopped pacing, standing still a mere few inches away from the smooth glassy surface.

"I can feel it… the Force existing within you. You must be anchoring me to your world."

"I doubt you are referring to the right god… there are by far more forceful warriors in these halls than me." Loki frowned in amusement, yet also intrigued. This conversation was the most interesting thing that had happened to him ever since he had come to this sense forsaken place.

"God? Do you mean… you are not human?" The man asked in what sounded like both shock and disbelief.

"Seriously… where are you even from? Don't you know Asgard? Never heard of the old gods, of Hel and Valhalla? Or the nine worlds, at least?" Loki tried, not even attempting to sound annoyed anymore. The longer they talked, the more he got the impression that the man in the mirror might REALLY come from a place very far away… maybe further than Loki had ever been.

"Where do YOU come from to believe that there are only nine worlds? Ridiculous… there's millions!"

"I know that!" Loki rolled his eyes. "But you know, mythology and legend and… let's forget about that for a moment. I start to believe you might be from an entirely different dimension… not only now in death, but to your lifetime as well. Do you have any idea how you ended up building a bridge, of sorts, to MY dimension?"

"It must be the Force…"

"You and your 'Force'... I doubt that physical strength and power suffice to connect through the entire multiverse."

"You are seriously from another universe, aren't you…"

"Well, better realize it late than never." Loki rolled his eyes again. "Can we both accept that as common ground now? We are, in fact, both dead, and we are definitely not from the same place. And it's a multiverse, by the way, not a universe… you might just want to believe me in that regard."

"A multiverse… connected by the Force?"

"What Force do you keep talking about?!" Loki sighed as he sat back down against the marble pillar, eyeing his own reflection as he spoke.

"How can you be so Force sensitive and still not know about its existence? Have you… have you never moved objects without touching them?"

"Well, obviously I have…" Loki mused with yet another frown. Slowly he got an idea about what the fellow in the mirror must be talking about. "I believe we are referring to the same thing by different terms. In my world, it's called seidr or magic, typically."

"The force isn't 'magic', it's… well, maybe it is, under another term. Tell me, can you read minds? Move objects? Heal people?"

"I can… but not everyone. It's a matter of training, really, as it's a matter of birth. Not all species are capable of magic, and even the ones that are have only very few individual who possess the necessary qualities to use it."

"That does sound very similar, at least."

"Great… so you are capable of magic… or 'the Force'?" Loki questioned curiously as he leaned his head against the cold stone behind him. Now this was getting even more interesting. One magical being trying to escape Valhalla (or rather death) was as good as none, but two…

"Yes, I have completed my training, if you want to call it that. But I can't seem to reach your world through this haze I find myself stuck in."

"So you tried to read my mind?" Loki rose an eyebrow, as an involuntary smirk played on his lips. Usually he wasn't too fond of competition, but this was something else… something that might not need to become a competition in the first place. Maybe rather... an alliance, he thought. "Maybe it didn't work because I can keep you out of my head."

"I assume you can… You are well practiced, in that case." Now, the man in the mirror sounded almost amused too.

"Please, no need to flatter me." Loki said in sarcasm, shrugging, and got a small chuckle in return. "I've been practicing my magic for quite a while. Have you? With your Force I mean."

"All my life."

"And how long is that?" Loki couldn't really help his curiosity anymore, and he didn't really see any reason in suppressing it.

"That depends on how you count the years, or time in general, in your world."

"Well, you certainly aren't as shallow minded as the humans in this world. You are human, aren't you?"

"Yes. In my world, I am 30. Or rather… was, when I died."

Now Loki couldn't help laughing. A mortal at the age of 30… well, the ones he knew were quite different from this man in the mirror. And honestly… for someone this young, he was keeping up quite well with a god of thousands of years. But one could argue that time went a little differently for Asgardians than it did for humans… anyway, Loki was rather impressed than trying to mock him.

"It's a bit more complicated for me, but we can say I'm roughly a thousand years old." Loki chuckled in amusement, already waiting for the other's astonishment, which never came though.

"Well, if you're a god as you say, that doesn't really sound too old either. But what do I know about gods..."

Despite the remaining doubt, Loki actually felt himself growing to like this fellow, somehow… he was interesting. "What's your name, man in the mirror?"

"I am Kylo Ren. What's yours, god in the golden halls?"

"That does sound very much made up. But alright, if you don't want to keep it honest…" Loki sighed audibly as he rose to his feet and started sauntering off.

"Wait! Alright, I… I'm Ben. Ben Solo."

With his back to the mirror, Loki smirked to himself. As if he'd ever actually wanted to leave… pfff. With one swift movement, he returned to his spot in front of the mirror. "My name is Loki." He spoke at last, without smirking.

"No last name?"

"I have many aliases… Odinson, Laufeyson, god of mischief, god of lies… However I prefer just Loki."

"God of lies?"

"I know, not the most flattering title. But I assume as I didn't pick it, it doesn't really tell much about me."

"You must've done something to earn it though."

"I like to tell stories. Alternative truths, possibilities… There's never one truth, but most fail to see that. Everyone's world is a construction of the stories they tell themselves. Call them stories, or call them lies… it doesn't matter."

"I agree. There is rarely black and white, a definite truth and a definite lie... and things even more rarely are as easy as people believe them to be."

"But neither are they as complicated. An absolute only serves to affirm the reality of its opposite."

"So… you don't believe that there's something like a light and a dark side of… magic?"

Loki shrugged. "I believe it depends on the scales we think in. If one only knows black and white, there will be a light and a dark side. Now, some more intelligent individuals may start thinking in grey scales, so that eliminates a separation into a light and a dark side. I myself prefer to think in color though." Again, his words made the fellow, Ben, hum in agreement. After a moment of silence, Loki continued to question his new acquaintance.

"You said you can't use your Force in my world… but you can use it in yours? In death, I mean?"

"I have seen others doing it, before I died. The Force allows us to appear as ghosts, and rarely even interfere in the world of the living. But I can't seem to reach my own dimension, nor yours. I'm stuck in the haze between worlds… must be my bad luck. Maybe I deserve this, after all."

"See, 'ghosts' isn't a term I would be using, as is magic for you. But I believe you're talking about an illusion, and I know about those fairly well." Loki started, for now ignoring the part about whether Ben deserved to be stuck or not. He wasn't one to judge, after all. "Are you certain that you cannot reach my side?"

"I'm not a child, Loki. I know what I'm doing as well as you do."

"Alright, alright…" Loki held his hands up in defeat. "But if that's something you would be interested in, escaping the haze I mean, I would like to offer my help."

"Why would you do that?"

'Because I'm bored out of my mind and you're my best chance of escaping death' Loki thought, but didn't word his aims. "Are you really in a position to question my motives?" He said instead.

"Yes. I'm dead, what more could happen to me?"

"You could live. If we work together, we might just be able to escape death's realm."

"But then I will be stuck in your reality…"

"Oh, crossing between dimensions is fairly easy. It's escaping death that's the hard part." Loki shrugged, nervously tapping his fingers on his knee. Death could be escaped, he knew that. Only that escaping Hel was WAY easier than escaping Valhalla, because honestly… while everybody tried to get out of Hel, nobody had ever wanted to escape from the everlasting feast. Until now. The possibility of escape shrunk with the inhabitants' missing wish to do just that, as everything that could be thought could also be made possible. If a thought existed in many minds, it became more and more likely to become real, and thus possible. But with only Loki thinking of escape, it was just so much harder. He needed Ben's help.

"Alright… How do we go about it?"

"How should I know? You're the one stuck with the Force."

"And you're the magic god."

Loki grumbled to himself and rolled his eyes… but in all honesty, he preferred to be the one drawing up plans anyway. Just another leftover habit of a childhood together with Thor.

"Yeah, well… If you're connected to this place, there's gotta be a link somewhere. A door, kind of. Maybe someone just needs to open it for you." With that, Loki rose to his feet and started testing different spells and tricks on the mirror. Now that he knew what he was looking for and dealing with, it actually didn't take him long at all to find a barrier, of sorts, that with a little thinking and a lot more trying, he could finally lower just enough for something to enter into the mirror dimension of his own world.

Taking a few steps backwards, he eyed the figure that slowly came into view. Loki watched how he came walking towards the mirror, where the worlds met only separated by a thin glass, until at last he could see the entire person only a few feet away.

"Well, at last I get to connect a face to the voice." Loki commented as he watched his opposite with great interest. All dressed in black, and hair as raven as his own… but he really did look horribly young. "Hello Ben."

"I'm still stuck inside a mirror." Ben replied, but his voice sounded a lot more real, with less echo than before. Loki rose an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I consider this a success. One step at a time and all that. You're in the mirror dimension of my world… you should be able to see the same halls as I do now." Loki commented as he crossed his arms behind his back and studied the young man carefully. He didn't really look like he was capable of much… but then again, Loki didn't either. Maybe that was a good thing. And he definitely wore different garments than the warriors who resided in Valhalla, a lot more like Midgardian clothes with a spacey twist.

"I have a physical form now at least, so that's a good thing first of all. Being a matterless presence isn't really all too pleasant of an experience." Ben said quietly, and Loki smirked. Yeah, not being corporeal was a nuisance indeed, and he found it amusing that his new acquaintance seemed to dislike it just as much.

"Tell me about this mirror dimension." Ben added after a moment, and Loki could feel how he tried to get into his head. The attempt almost made him snort.

"I will tell you if you would kindly refrain from trying to intrude in my mind." Loki chuckled. "You will not succeed, and it must take more energy trying than to simply listen to my words."

"So you did feel the Force in your mind?"

"Oh yes. Pretty weakly, but I can't tell if that's because of the dimensional gap between us or because of the quality of your attempt."

"I would assume the former."

"Of course you would." Loki smirked, but since the assault on his thoughts had stopped like he'd asked, he actually went on to explain the basics of the to him known dimensions in all honesty.

"So I will have to cross between dimensions myself?" Ben finally asked with a deep frown. "How do I do that?"

"Like everything else you do with your Force…" Loki shrugged. "Practice."

"And you're doing what exactly? Watch me fail and have a fun time?"

"Precisely." Loki smirked to himself, upon which he earned himself an annoyed glare. "It's not like I have anything else to do. And I can't really help you."

"Well, if it's so easy then come on into my dimension yourself."

"Easy indeed."

"Well, and then you can take me back to your side. From what you've explained, it should be easy as that." Ben rose an eyebrow at him, looking completely unimpressed, which only made Loki feel even more stupid than he would anyway. It couldn't be as simple as that, could it?

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're annoying?" Loki grumbled as he did ready himself to cross into the mirror dimension. Up until today, he hadn't even know that there was, in fact, a mirror dimension to Valhalla.

"Did anyone ever tell YOU that you're ill-tempered?"

"Likewise." With that, Loki crossed over to the other side even more easily than he had expected. Odd… but not unappreciated.

The very moment he existed within the same reality as Ben, Loki felt the intrusion into his head once more. At least the attempt at it, which this time was actually quite hard to fight off, and Loki had to grin immediately.

"Nah, you're doing it all wrong… There's an easier way." He chuckled, and in return got into Ben's head as if he didn't even try to block him out. Loki saw quite a bit in there: family issues, darkness, betrayal… things not remotely unfamiliar to him. But there was a turning point, a ray of light in the darkness. A Rey of light. Loki frowned, and that allowed Ben to block him out entirely.

"You had NO business seeing that!" He glared at Loki in full on rage, and Loki actually did feel a little bit sorry for snooping. But Ben had started it, after all… so it kinda was his own fault.

"I believe we're not all that different, you and me…" Loki said calmly, without a smile, but still almost friendly.

"You know nothing about me."

"I know enough. And I know that neither you nor I would profit off a fight."

"You intruded in my mind!"

"Because you tried to get into mine first." Loki gave him a no-nonsense look, then continued on as his words seemed to get through to Ben. "Stop trying to use your Force thing on me, and I won't use my magic on you. Because honestly, I'd prefer not to be choked by anybody ever again, and I doubt you'd like your gut pierced by an ice blade the size of your arm."

Ben rose an eyebrow at Loki in mild confusion, but he seemed to believe him at least that a fight would be to nobody's benefit. Maybe this mortal was brighter than Loki had originally thought… they certainly did have quite a bit in common. Both driven to darkness by their own families, in one way or another, betrayed by the ones closest and abused by the ones found by, and at last, saved from the dark, saved from themselves. Granted, Loki hadn't seen everything within Ben's mind… but he'd seen enough to know that he was dangerous and intelligent. That sufficed to be likeable, to the god.

"Let's see if we can get out of the mirror dimension…" Loki finally said, and upon Ben's approving nod, he brought them back to the real Valhalla.

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They had been sauntering through the golden halls for quite some time already, all the while Loki actually did make an effort to explain to Ben his reality and the difference between going to Valhalla and Hel, after death. It really wasn't that difficult, but it still almost amused Loki how quickly Ben seemed to wrap his head around the idea that this was, in fact, a different reality.

After mere hours, Ben understood why Loki had been bored out of his mind in this place… in comparison to this, a star destroyer was an entertainment paradise. But neither of the two men actually planned on staying here, that much they had already agreed upon. And they had actually refrained from using their powers on each other, which, secretly, had surprised both of them.

"Loki, why do you know how to escape Hel, but not Valhalla?" Ben questioned with a frown, as they passed by the great feasting hall.

"Because I have escaped from Hel before." Loki rolled his eyes, but more to himself than at the young man walking next to him. He really didn't feel like sharing his past right now… and still, after looking into Ben's mind, he felt like he owed him some information. A little, at least.

"How?"

"Well, let's say I knew the boss down there." Loki mused with a displeased expression. "Only that, until recently, I didn't know she was a relative, in a way. Adopted. But still..."

"What? How…"

"You have got enough family issues on your own, please, don't burden yourself with mine."

Ben shot him a glare in pure dismay, but refrained from protesting any further. Up until recently, he would have simply ignored this 'alliance' between himself and the god and demanded answers, even if by fighting him for it. But now… Ben actually found himself thankful, for once. Loki had brought him here, even if only in his own interest, but still he had bettered his situation immensely. And even the tiniest prospect of being able to return to life, now that he had discovered a life worth living, was worth all of this.

Still, they both refrained from talking about anything personal from then on. For days on end they solemnly focused on drawing up plan upon plan for how they could possibly escape. They tried everything, Loki's magic, the Force, any combination of both… and thereby ended up more or less willing letting each other in on how their respective skills worked, and how to use them.

Ben had been right, Loki was indeed very receptive to the Force, and with his prior knowledge of magic, it was fairly easy for him to control it decently enough. Ben himself however was a little slower to grasp the ways of Loki's magic, as it required a little more… creativity, but to both their great surprise, Loki actually found it rather amusing to teach Ben some of his magic. Obviously not all of it, but just enough to be of good use.

And while they tried everything to even as much as scratch at the borders of death's realm, every attempt to break out of this golden prison turned out to be in vain. Absolutely nothing they came up with was even remotely working, and while they slowly grew less weary of each other, they definitely grew weary of the overall situation. They stayed clear of the feasting hall, but almost everyone who still came across them shot Ben the most disgusted, questioning looks, which he returned with hostile glares. Luckily, almost everyone was also drunk on a constant basis, so it didn't matter all that much that he didn't really fit in with all the norse gods facing eternity up here.

After a few weeks of fruitless attempts to escape however, they sat in an empty hallway utterly frustrated with themselves, and thus also with each other.

"You know, if escaping from Hel is so much easier, maybe I should've ended up there instead of up here with a moody god." Ben sighed to himself.

"You definitely should have." Loki replied in a quiet grumble. "I wouldn't have to bother with you then."

"I wouldn't have to bother with you!" Ben snorted bitterly. "But as it seems, you've already earned yourself quite some time in hell."

"Hel, not hell. But it's the same anyway… And don't pretend you're any better. I know what you've done."

"Then you know that I deserve to be in hell rather than heaven."

"HEL, not… oh whatever." Loki groaned and hit his head against the gold-framed marble behind him. "Do you think I deserve to be up here?"

"No. Not really." Ben replied honestly, frowning at the god. "But I didn't look into your head. So what do I know..."

"At least I only tried to subjugate a planet. I didn't destroy it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not specifically proud of that either, can you imagine…" Ben hissed at Loki, who only rolled his eyes and looked away. A long moment of silence followed, as deafening as the sounds of an entire battlefield. They weren't fighting, really… not with each other at least.

"Stop it." Loki said sternly, all of a sudden, breaking the silence and the downward spiral in Ben's head at the same time.

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything!"

"Stop pitying yourself."

"I am not pitying myself."

"Well, then stop blaming yourself." Loki rolled his eyes again, looked at Ben, then back into the opposite direction. "Everyone has a past, and yet you have no place in hell, Ben Solo."

"Hel, not hell." Ben replied with with a sarcastic undertone and the tiniest smirk, right before a blade of ice hit the marble pillar shortly above his head. He didn't even flinch, only looked at Loki in bitter amusement. For a moment, the god glared at the younger man in feigned annoyance and anger, until at last he rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smirk as well.

"I doubt that you deserve to be in Hel either… You helped me get here. You showed me your magic." Ben finally said in a calmer tone.

"Yeah, hooray… I helped you walk through a mirror, right into a golden prison." Loki sighed, but if he was honest, he felt kind of touched by Ben's words. However, he would never admit that much. "And I throw blades at you."

"I'm dead anyway." Ben shrugged. "What's going to happen? I die even more?"

"Well, no… but I myself would definitely go to hell if I killed you now. We are… partners, after all." Loki sighed, rising his eyebrows at Ben for a moment. Yeah, they really were partners by now… friends even, but Loki wouldn't go as far as to say it out loud. He liked Ben, respected him even, in a Loki kinda way.

"So you're saying you would go to Hel, right from Valhalla, if you killed me?" Ben inquired as he sat up straight once more. "And thus I would go to Hel if I kill you?"

"I thought we talked about this." Loki replied with a sigh. "I'm not killing you, and you're not killing me."

"But if we would… We could go to Hel. And you said yourself escaping Hel is easier." Ben argued, and finally the spark jumped on to Loki, as his eyes widened and he looked at Ben intently.

"I tried… well, one cannot end their… own life, up here." Loki mused, as he rose to his feet and started pacing back and forth in front of Ben, who still sat on the floor. "But maybe we can indeed end each other. We won't really die any more or get hurt even, that wouldn't really work as we're both kind of matterless and all… but it's the spirit that counts."

"That's what I'm saying. We kill each other up here, and we might just go to Hel. Or nothing happens. There's nothing to lose, right?"

"No. We're dead anyway." Loki shrugged with a mischievous smirk, as he held a hand out to Ben to pull him onto his feet.

_______________

They agreed to do it Loki's way, since there were no lightsabers in Valhalla and Loki wasn't particularly fond of being choked. Thus he taught Ben how to conjure and throw blades, even if he'd had doubts at first. Yet… something, some unfathomable reasons (of which Ben said it was 'the Force' yet again) made Loki want to trust Ben indeed, and while Loki was reluctant to do so, Ben found himself inclined to trust Loki still. If the Force had brought them together somehow and now urged him to trust the god, he would not refuse.

As soon as Ben had grasped the magic Loki had shown to him, they got ready to put their plan into action, standing in the empty hallway facing each other as each conjured a blade.

"Ready?" Loki rose an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't have an eternity to waste." Ben replied, feeling more nervous still than he wanted to let on. This was a leap of faith, kind of. But he'd do anything to return to the living.

"Ha, well, I kinda do. Nowhere to go and all that… Anyway… I'm tired of the gold." Loki mused, and a moment later, upon his nod, they both threw their blades.

_______________

Hel was dark, cold… a place of the kind that had one's skin covered in goosebumps and sweat, and one's mind anxiously on edge. And it was an awful lot more like what Ben was used to. He still felt shockingly sympathetic, almost remorseful that Loki seemed to have spent enough time in this place to know his way around.

Loki on the other hand was smiling brightly for the sole reason that this inane plan had worked out in the first place. Hel didn't scare him anymore… he'd seen worse places.

"You alright?" He asked as he turned around to Ben though, rising an eyebrow at the younger man.

"Do you suddenly start to care?" Ben chuckled.

"Nah…" Loki shrugged as he turned back to the path they were on, a thin line of solid ground in the mushy waste of a reality long abandoned.

"Why were you here so often?" Ben asked after a while. "I know you don't want me to look into your head, so I'm asking politely for information."

"You probably could look into my mind, by now, if you really made the effort." Loki mused, with a sigh, but not in annoyance nor in anger.

"But you don't want me to."

"Do you always do what other people want you to do?"

"I have tried to be… better, recently." Ben replied with a sigh. "You know what happened, you saw it."

"I did… and I never really had the ambition to be better. I tried, all my life, to be enough."

"Enough for whom?"

"I don't even know anymore. My father, maybe… or my brother."

"And? Did you succeed?"

"No. I came to realize that I would never be enough for them, and that realization was freeing at last." Loki didn't even know why he was telling him all that. Maybe because death, Hel, was a place as vain as Loki's past had been. But he would spend more energy on being enough for himself from now on, and escaping death with Ben was a fairly good start to that.

"I take it then that your life wasn't all that glorious either…" Ben mused, carefully eyeing the looming darkness around them. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Oh, my life was glorious, but a little… misled. It does not matter. We will be leading a new life, you will return to your Rey of light, and I… will find my way around."

"You know of Rey?"

"I know the name, at least. It was all over your thoughts." Loki grinned to himself, and Ben said nothing in return, so Loki went on. "And we're going to find the boss down here so I can talk some sense to them."

It took about half an hour for Loki to figure out the right way, and surprisingly Ben was patient all the while. He didn't really enjoy not having the upper hand, but considering the circumstances, having Loki as a guide was the best option he had. Loki knew his way around Hel, he had relations and knowledge… everything Ben was lacking in this reality, and thus he let the god take the lead.

At last, Loki found who he had been looking for… Hela's replacement. The man seemed to recognize Loki immediately, and jumped off his high throne as Ben and Loki approached.

"My Lord! I… I have been waiting for your arrival!" The man bowed just a little too far to not ridicule himself. "It was but a matter of time until another of Odin's children would be sent to rule over Hel."

"I am not here to rule, but to demand passage for me and my… friend, into the realms of the living." Loki replied carefully, for even he was a little surprised by the sudden turn of events. Surely he did feel flattered to have someone bowing to him once more… but the wish to rule had died along with him. He wanted to live. With a purpose other than fulfilling a destiny that's not his.

"But… my lord…" The man frowned, eyeing first Loki and then Ben wearily. "You MUST! I… I cannot make that decision, to let the dead rise again."

"Well, neither can I." Loki shrugged, taking just a little more joy in Ben's utterly confused face than necessary.

"But, once you take on your position as legitimate ruler of Hel, you will have every power to do so." The man argued, once more bowing humbly as Loki's eyes fixed on him.

"It really is the same everywhere…" Ben sighed deeply, to himself, then turned towards Loki. "You ceased to mention that you're a big deal down here."

Loki however ignored Ben's comment for now, and focused on the other man. "What happens if I refuse?"

"Well, you'll… stay dead, I assume. Until an heir is found." The man shrugged a little helplessly.

"Alright…" Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. He really wasn't too fond of the idea, but maybe he would be able to talk his way out of this, as usual. "I'll do it."

"What?" Ben asked immediately. "This is not what we planned!"

"In case you haven't noticed, this isn't my idea of fun either. But do you want to rot in this place for a small eternity until someone comes along who can be reasoned with? No? Thought so." Loki rolled his eyes at Ben, whose lips were still set into a grim line, but at least the frown had fallen off his face.

"Then you, Loki, son of Odin, shall hereby be declared rightful king of Hel and master of the netherworlds." The man spoke loudly, with way more pomp than either of the present men would've preferred. A long moment of silence followed, as all three waited for something to happen.

"And… that was it?" Ben asked at last, frowning at Loki who returned the same unknowing expression with a shrug. "Do you… feel any different?"

"Not… specifically, no." Loki replied wearily, then turned to shoot the strange man an irritated look.

"Oh, your majesty may want to sit down on the throne." Said man replied easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Loki rolled his eyes, but did as suggested, upon which, at last, he started feeling an eerie connection to the place surrounding them. Hel's might crawled into his veins like a liquid that mixed with his blood, equally freezing and scorching his being from the inside. A second later it was all over again, and he looked down at an irritated Ben and an expectant servant.

"Kneel." Loki ordered in a calm voice, not showing any emotion as he merely pulled up his eyebrows.

And while the strange man dropped down immediately, Ben only rose an eyebrow in return and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Just because you're a big deal in your reality now doesn't mean you're less of an idiot."

Loki's lips curled into a humored smirk, and a second later he stood up and jumped down the few steps to the foot of the high throne. "Was worth a try."

Ben rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the humor out of his face either. Somehow… he was starting to really enjoy the company of the god. He was just enough of an idiot to be likeable.

"Your majesty, what will be your first command?" The man still kneeling in front of Loki asked reluctantly.

"Get up." Loki replied almost friendly, and the man followed order immediately. "You will be my deputy in charge down here while I'm gone. I shall come back… occasionally, to see that things are going well."

"That is an honor too grand for me, your majesty." The man whined. "I cannot…"

"You must, and you will." Loki said easily. "You did well before I was here, and you will do well once I'm gone."

The man nodded, and retreated with another deep bow, while Loki turned to Ben. "What a nuisance… but I assume being able to venture among the dead and the living has its perks. Some higher magic will also come in handy."

"Great, but can we go now?"

"You're impatient as a child." Loki groaned and rolled his eyes yet again.

"And you're slow as an old man." Ben replied mockingly and thereby earned himself a glare.

"I'm a king now."

"And I'm annoyed."

"Your bad."

"Can we go now?"

"Give me your hand."

"What? No!"

"Either that or I will look into your mind again." Loki stated, holding his hand out expectantly. He could easily create a portal to the worlds of the living, now that he was the highest authority down here, but he would first need to know where to go, exactly. He needed Ben to be the bridge to his own reality.

"As if you could still look into my mind." Ben snorted defensively. "Not only you have learned over the course of our alliance."

"Wanna bet?" Loki rose an eyebrow with a completely indifferent expression, and with quietly uttered insults, Ben indeed let Loki grab onto his wrist.

"Now think of your reality. Of a place you want to go, a place that will exist and be safe. Because honestly, I would prefer not to get lost between realities again." Loki said calmly, and Ben frowned.

"Does that mean you're also going to my reality?"

"Well, I'm not too fond of Hel, and while my home world was destroyed, and my place of birth is nothing but rocks and icicles, the remaining worlds around here aren't too fond of me either. I kinda have a bad reputation."

"I wonder why that is." Ben smirked to himself, and Loki also had to grin at the comment. "But let's get out of here."

"Ready to rise from the dead?" Loki asked with a smirk, and upon Ben's nod, they left death behind to start their lives anew. A life of trying to be better for someone else's sake, and a life of trying to be enough for oneself.

______________________________

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Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

BOUTS OF JEALOUSY

One-shot #: 12

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: M (Not explicit but insinuations and wordings are)

Note: @zoronamiroronoa requested a jealous Zoro and a jealous Nami. I hope this will suffice for the long wait. I had real fun writing it so I hope you have fun reading it. This is by far the longest one-shot I’ve ever written. 

Summary: “Heh, got a taste of your own medicine?”

“Uhm, Zoro?”

Usopp settled on the wooden bench next to the green-haired swordsman. He took note of the rather piercing glare Zoro gave him before knocking back the tankard of beer he was holding.

“Are you alright?”

“Never been better,” Zoro answered, though a bit coldly for the sniper’s liking.

Usopp clamped his mouth shut as his eyes shifted towards the inn’s bar. Their navigator was sitting there surrounded by two attractive guys who were obviously hitting on her, laughing delightfully.

“Tch,” Sanji made a sound from across them. “You are so incompetent,” he remarked at the swordsman. He bit at his cigarette before taking a drag. “If I were her—”

“Shut up ero-cook,” Zoro snarled. “Her business is her business. She’s probably gonna rob those two for all we know.”

“Oh,” Robin murmured amusedly. “You may be right Zoro.” She lifted her lovely blue eyes from her book to gaze at the swordsman. “But then again, Nami IS quite beautiful,” she added and a ‘Hai, I agree Robin-chwan’ can be heard in the background. “She may also be enjoying their constant flattering of her very obvious assets.”  

Usopp felt the swordsman stiffened at that. “Way to go Robin,” he muttered under his breath. Trust the archeologist to manipulate her nakama for her own twisted entertainment. “But Zoro’s right. She’s probably taking advantage of those poor bastards as usual.”

“Yeah, probably,” Franky said in a doubtful tone. He had seen Nami trail a finger on one of the men’s jaw when he passed by the bar on his way to the Mugiwaras’ table. Thank heavens, Zoro had his back turned to them.

“Hmm… well those two are not bad looking,” Robin commented before taking a dainty sip on her coffee cup. “Would’ve been fun.”

“Robin-chwan?” Sanji almost choked when he realized the possible implication of her statement.

The older woman shrugged. “All I’m saying is that those two would be… pleasant drinking companions since they’re easy on the eyes.”

Franky laughed as he settled down beside the archeologist. “Right,” he said before gulping down his cola. Being older than most of their crewmates have its perks when it comes to deciphering double entendres.

“What Franky?” Robin glanced sideways at him… sharply.

There was something in her eyes and tone that made the cyborg shook his head and decided to change the subject. “Nothing. Where’s Mugiwara by the way?”

Usopp pointed towards the other end of the pub where a lot of noises were coming from. “Buffet battle. With Chopper and Brook.”

“Aww! That is super!”

Zoro, who was quiet all throughout the exchange, lifted a hand to signal one of the waitresses for another beer.

Usopp sighed. He gotta hand it to the swordsman. He admires the man’s tolerance with the cat burglar’s antics. Nami’s not above doing a good deal of flirting or using her womanly charms when it comes to getting what she wants.

Take their cook as a perfect example.

Though her tricks are not effective with the former bounty hunter. Nami cannot make Zoro succumb to her flirting or her seducing ways especially if he is aware that she’s trying to wheedle something out of him.

Sometimes Usopp thinks that Nami flirting with her ‘victims’ like crazy is somehow a sort of payback to Zoro being resistant.

Or it could also be a way to get the Supernova jealous.

Which is freaking scary knowing Zoro’s tendency to rampage without so much a thought to the consequences.

The long-nosed sniper sighed again and shifted his attention to the tankard in front of him. He’s overthinking things. Nami may just be getting chummy with her targets as usual and Zoro’s irritable countenance probably had nothing to do with that.

Which is purely bullshit. Even he doesn’t believe it.

“Hey! Why are they getting too close to Nami-san?” Sanji suddenly seethed. Everyone turned towards the bar and true enough the two men had shifted much closer to the orange-haired girl, almost sandwiching her between them. “If they so much touch a hair on her head—”

“Uh-oh,” Franky intoned. “Cannot keep their hands to themselves!” He said with a shake of his head. One of the pirates had reached out and started playing with a lock of Nami’s orange hair.

Sanji started spewing profanities and something about skewering.

“Yabe...” Usopp whispered nervously.

BANG!

Zoro suddenly slammed his tankard down on the table.

Everyone stopped talking at once and four pairs of eyes widened as he stood up and left without another word.

The rest of the Straw Hats raised their eyebrows at each other in astonishment.

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

Nami threw back her head and laughed at something the blond-haired guy on her left said. She made sure that she sounded so amused to make it appear like she was deeply interested with whatever they were telling her.

The navigator studied the two men discreetly. Both were tall, with excellent body structure and definitely attractive. From their looks, she could surmise that they are the kind who are suckers for pretty girls; those fascinated enough to fall for stories about their recent exploits and tussles.

She smiled sweetly when the blond winked at her. He was bragging about a recent island escapade where they managed to rip off a good deal of cash from some random pirate crew.

So that’s where the scent of money is coming from.

The guy on her right—with dark brown hair and beautiful green eyes—started boasting about their encounter with a rear navy admiral while they were escaping the island and how easily they were able to kick that officer’s ass.

Nami giggled. They are so… cute. And certainly gullible. Though she gotta applaud them for their rather convincing tales. If she was stupid and naïve, she’d definitely end up giving in to their charms.

But she’s not.

She’s not after a good time with these two crooks after all. No, no.

What she’s actually there for are the belis inside their pouches calling out her name. They might be exaggerating with their stories, but not the money. Nami had noticed it the moment they entered the place.

Besides, she already had her hands full with a surly swordsman. These two would look like babies beside Roronoa Zoro.

The brown-haired guy suddenly reached out and touched her hair, twirling the orange strands playfully around his fingers as he smiled at her teasingly.

Nami frowned inwardly. She didn’t like it when other people touch her hair. Zoro doesn’t like it when other men touch her hair—especially if it’s because she’s flirting to steal.

Good thing the swordsman was busy with his beer.

She forced herself not to flinch at the gesture. Instead, she returned the smile flirtatiously.

This nicking better be damn worth it.

Nami felt the blond guy on her other side sidled closer to her. The one playing with her hair did the same, effectively trapping her between them.

Her guard was up at once and she stealthily moved her hand near her Clima-tact’s hiding place.

Suddenly an arm wrapped itself around her waist. It tugged at her lightly, making her lean back towards a familiar strapping chest.

She tilted her head upwards and was surprised to see Zoro standing behind her.

“Playtime’s over.” His deep voice cut through their conversation, as sharp as his blades. She can feel his chest rumbling as he spoke lowly, almost threateningly.  

“Hey!” The one on Nami’s right protested and Zoro pinned him with a menacing glare.

“Hands off her hair.”

The guy promptly swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, before letting go of Nami’s hair. That was one hell of a frightening look.

The blond on her left simultaneously let out a small squeak at the sight of the scarred eye and three swords and hastily stepped away from the navigator.

Nami’s brows drew together and she frowned. What is he doing? “The hell Zor—” she began, but he immediately cut her off.

“I want you upstairs now.”

And despite the irritation she was feeling, a delicious shiver ran up and down her spine at his tone.

“But we saw her first!” The brown-haired man found the courage to loudly and stupidly protest. “Go get your own woman!” He snarled at the bounty hunter-turned-pirate, boldly resting a hand on Nami’s bare thigh.

His friend on the other side desperately tried to make him stop; waving both hands to get his attention and silently pointing at the swords on Zoro’s hips.

But the other guy was oblivious.

“Is that so?” Zoro cocked his head to the left so he can look at the idiot straight in the eye. The grin on his face promised nothing but pain. “That better not move another inch,” he barely glanced at the man’s hand. “Or you will lose it.”

Nami closed her eyes and sighed. The buffoon just had to go and do that. Zoro will make mincemeat out of him even without his swords.

“Oh real… ly…” The guy’s voice suddenly trailed off. He finally noticed his companion pointing at the weapons on Zoro’s side, holding three fingers up.

Three swords?

The young man almost choked. His eyes widened and it went from Nami to Zoro then back again.

And he went deathly pale.

“You’re…” he whispered and his friend on the other side nodded vigorously. His knees began to shake and it seemed to crawl up his body because Nami can actually feel the hand on her thigh trembling.

The blond darted towards his partner and pulled his hand away from the navigator. Without another word, he shoved his friend’s head forward and made him bow down in front of the swordsman.

He followed suit.

“Sumimasen deshita! Roronoa Zoro-san!” The blond shouted.

It was so unexpected that Nami and the other Mugiwaras, as well as some of the customers who were watching the scene, were surprised.

“We are really sorry!” The blond apologized again still keeping his head and his friend’s bowed low.

His brown-haired companion finally realized what he had gotten himself into. “Yes we are sooo sorry! So very sorry!” He suddenly cried in a pleading tone. “We didn’t know it was you! A master swordsman in the flesh!”

Nami swore she could hear snivels coming from him and are those teardrops wetting the floor?

“Yes! We should’ve realized it sooner!”

“Please don’t cut us!”

A sneer appeared on Zoro’s face. “I don’t know about that; you did piss me off.”

Now the two were visibly quivering.

Nami fought the urge to laugh out loud. Whatever happened to their tales of fearlessness? “But,” she spoke out of the blue. “I thought you two can best anyone in a fight?” The cat thief had an impish grin on her face that widened when she saw the two shook harder than before.  

“No! No!” The blond lifted his head slightly to look at Nami tearfully. Gone now was the confident, debonair air they exuded earlier. “We’re exaggerating of course!” He admitted and his eyes shifted back to Zoro and he hastily bowed his head again. “We would never think of fighting someone like Roronoa Zoro-san. Not in this life. Not in the next.”

“That’s true! We are really sorry Roronoa-san,” the other apologized again. “We didn’t know she was yours. If we did, and we do now, we would never have approached her. And we never will! You have our word!”

“Just please let us go!”

“Do not let them off just like that shitty swordsman!” Sanji shouted as he stood up from the Straw Hats’ table. “Cut the hand of that bastard who dared touch Nami-san! Or I will personally gut them like a fish and served them to the Kumate tribe.” He threatened as Usopp grasped him on both shoulders to prevent him from going berserk.

“Oi pipe down swirly!” Zoro growled towards the cook’s direction. Honestly, this is getting troublesome than it’s supposed to be. “You two,” he called out suddenly and the men stiffened.

“Hai…?” Both answered with quavering voices.

“Just get out of my sight.”

“HAI!” The two dropped down their knees quickly. There was a ‘thud’ as their foreheads hit the floor as they bowed much lower, grateful that Zoro was letting them go without any injury.

“We’ll be on our merry way now. Sorry for the trouble!”

“It was nice to meet you Roronoa Zoro-san! Truly! We’re sorry and thank you!”

They both edged away from the two Straw Hats and headed towards the entryway while still crouched down the floor. They left in a crawling manner in the midst of laughter and hoots from some of the pub’s patrons.

The moment the two chaps disappeared outside, Nami huffed. She swiveled to face the green-haired man and pouted. “Really Zoro? What did we agree about this?” She chastised, not amused by his antic. “I haven’t even gotten their money yet!”

Zoro in turn, glared at her and threw something on the bar counter. It was the men’s money pouches.

Nami’s eyes widened.

“You must be losing your touch.” Zoro muttered, scowling at the navigator.

“Or she probably enjoyed flirting with them,” Robin casually commented as she passed by behind them.

“Robin!!!”

“Can’t blame you, they are quite cute.” The raven-haired woman let out a soft giggle as she leaned against the counter. She lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. The corners of her eyes crinkled in mirth when she saw the expression on Zoro’s face.

The swordsman looked absolutely livid.

Oh my, has Zoro always been this easy to rile up when it comes to Nami?

This is fun.

“Woman,” Zoro all but hissed in Nami’s ear, grabbing her arm. “Upstairs now!”

“Hey!” Nami protested. “I’m still…”

“Now!” A shadow seemed to cross Zoro’s face and his tone had lowered to the point that he was growling.

“…”

He moved away from her and headed towards the second floor where the Straw Hats rented rooms for the night. When Zoro starts using that tone on her, she’s in for trouble and she better do what he says.

Nami locked eyes with Robin, frowning as the older woman gave her a sly smile. She slid off her seat and followed him upstairs, but not before grabbing the pouches he surprisingly nicked from the two men earlier.

This is going to be a long and tiring argument… not to mention night. It can only end in two things: them not talking to each other tomorrow…

Or…

“NAMI!” Zoro’s voice almost thundered across the whole bar.

“Coming!”

Robin gave them a small wave before turning to the bartender to order her drink.

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

It was well into the afternoon when Nami slid on the bench opposite Robin, who was sitting alone in the half-filled bar enjoying her pre-dinner coffee and book.

The navigator slumped down the wooden table with a groan.

“And good afternoon to you too,” Robin greeted. “How was last night?”

Nami’s face immediately scrunched up into a frown. “Awful! My throat’s sore from screaming because apparently, Zoro’s deaf and could not understand what I’m saying!” She nestled her head on the hard surface of the table. “My voice was not loud enough to penetrate that thick, stupid skull of his.”

“Surely it’s not that bad?” The older woman asked, sprouting a pair of hands on each side of Nami so she can massage her shoulders.

“Uggh. No thanks to your comment!” Nami responded with a glare at her friend.

That made Robin giggle. “You just say that.” She took a sip of her drink and smiled amusedly at the navigator. “But you’ve been holed up with Zoro in that room for almost the whole day. Do you honestly want me to believe that all that screaming is because the two of you were arguing? The inn has thin walls after all.”

Nami’s face heat up at that. Well there’s no use hiding anything to Robin. With a moan she pillowed her head on her arms. “I hurt all over. This is all your fault!”

The archeologist glanced at her. Nami might be complaining, but there was look of satisfaction on her face that tells her otherwise. “Well at least now you know he isn’t immune to your flirting… with other men that is.”

The cat thief laughed sardonically at that. “Zoro’s just in the mood to be an ass. He usually doesn’t care about this stuff.” Nami lifted her head off the table. “That’s why I can steal from gullible, good-looking men whenever we dock!”

“Maybe that’s where the problem is? You always choose good-looking men for your victims.” Robin pointed out, turning a page of her book.

Nami sat up straighter at that and Robin’s hands disappeared in a flurry of petals. “You’re not listening last night are you? Cause I swear that’s exactly what Zoro said.”

Robin chuckled and shook her head. “No. I wasn’t.”

“But good-looking men are the best victims Robin,” Nami retorted. “And you know that. Most of them are self-absorbed and easily manipulated. And they’re much easier to approach. Average-looking guys tend to be suspicious when a cute girl walks up to them.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Robin stared straight in her eyes. “And not because you’re trying to make him… jealous?”

“Who’s making who jealous?”

Usopp’s voice cut into their conversation. The sniper plopped himself down beside Nami with an exhausted sigh, looking a bit worse for wear.

Nami stared at him in astonishment. “Why do you look like you just came out of a death match?”

“Long story,” Usopp replied wearily. “All I can say is, Luffy plus adventure… you do the math.”

“I see.”

“So who’s jealous?” He asked curiously. His eyes scrutinized Nami for a few seconds. “Did you just wake up?”

“You can say that.” Nami answered with a nod.

“Rough night?”

Franky, who just sat on the vacant seat beside Robin guffawed. “More like rough sex you mean.” He commented earning a loud laugh from the sniper.

“Franky!!!” Nami shrieked, horrified at his straightforwardness.

“Hey,” the cyborg retorted. “Not our fault! Is there anyone here who hasn’t heard all of that last night?”

Usopp clutched his stomach as he laughed harder. “I dunno… is there anyone here who slept a wink last night from all that?” He jested and Franky joined him in his laughter while Robin politely tried to hide her giggle behind her hand.

Nami reached out and pulled at Usopp’s ear. “You and you!” She hissed at Franky. “Perverts!”

“Aw! Thanks Nami-sis!” Franky’s grin was wide as he gave her a thumbs up.

“Hey ouch!” Usopp cried beside her, hand wrapping around her wrist to stop her from twisting his ear off. “Stop it!!!” He hollered. “Why am I the only getting assailed?”

Franky laughed at his expense.

“Shut it,” Nami snarled at him. “You’ll be getting your own due later.”

The shipwright grinned roguishly at her. “If Nami-sis. IF.”

“If what?!”

“If Zoro doesn’t lock you up in that room again like he did last night.”

“FRANKY!!!!” Nami’s scream can be heard within a one-mile radius from where they are.

Usopp‘s shoulders shook so hard from laughing too much.

“This is a whole new set of debts in my books you idiots!”

“Oi!”

“Franky,” Robin said. “That’s enough picking on Nami. She had been through… a really fierce battle.”

The mapmaker’s jaw dropped at that comment. “Not you too Robin!”

Franky shook his head while laughing. “You gotta admit, last night was gold. It’ll be a waste not make fun of it.”

"Tell that to Zoro," Nami challenged him. "I dare you two to tell and do that to Zoro."

“Are you kidding?” Franky stared at her in disbelief.

Usopp vehemently shook his head. "I refuse to die early! Thank you very much!"

“You are scared of Zoro more than of me huh, Usopp?” Nami grabbed the front of Usopp’s shirt, pulling his face near hers.

“Nami,” Usopp placed both of his hands on her shoulders. “Debts I can pay. But life? I only have one.”

“Girlie, you do realize what you are saying?” Franky raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t make that man the butt of jokes.”

“Except when it comes to his sense of direction,” Robin added her belis’ worth.

“Right,” Franky agreed. “Other than that, there are no other areas I want to tread. You do know how terrifying he is?”

“Especially when provoked.”

“Nico Robin’s supeeer right again,” Franky concurred. “I’m honestly surprised he did not unsheathed his swords yesterday and unleashed one of his attacks here.”

Usopp nodded and folded his arms across his chest. “I was half-afraid he would!”

“Only half?”

Nami rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he’s gonna slice and dice people all because I’m—”

“Flirting to steal?” Robin continued for her with a chuckle.

Nami pouted at her.

“Well he won’t ignore it all the time Nami. Just take yesterday for example.” Robin gave her a polite smile. “I just want to remind you of his tendencies to wreak havoc and cause destruction. Just don’t push him too much.”

“Wait,” Usopp moved back a little to stare at Nami. “Is this what you and Robin were talking about earlier? You ARE trying to make him jealous?”

“What? No!” Nami answered a bit defensively.

“That’s suuuper scary Nami-sis.” Franky frowned at that thought.

“I think she succeeded with no casualties.” Robin pointed out.

Usopp gawped at Nami with eyes wide. “Zoro is a monster once angered. And you want him jealous?” He asked incredulously. “What is wrong with you?” He glanced at Robin and Franky. “Did we tell her about Wano? We should tell her about Wano!”

“You already told me about Wano!”

“And you still want him jealous? Pissed off?  Enraged? Wrathful?” Usopp said in one breath. “Kami, I think I’m having a heart attack. Call Chopper!”

Nami lifted a fist and thumped the sniper at his head… hard.

“Look, we’ve already talked about this. I’m not gonna stop with what I’m doing just because we are together.” She explained, flicking her long hair behind her shoulder. “Now, if he has a problem with my stints then that’s his to deal with.”

The other three pirates exchanged glances. “Well,” Franky began. “You are lucky that Zoro’s not inclined to also flirt with other women to steal their purses.”

Robin laughed quietly at that.

“If that was the case, I’ll bet it’s you who will be having a hard time trying to rein in your jealousy.”

“Uh sorry,” Nami said smugly. “I’m not the jealous type.”

Both of Usopp’s eyebrows shot up at that. He doubts if that’s really the case knowing how greedy Nami can be.

“Oi!! Minna!!!”

They all turned their heads towards the direction of their captain’s voice. Luffy had just entered the pub with the other Straw Hats.

“Hi guys!” Luffy cheerfully greeted them as he bounded towards their table. He was grinning widely, even though his face and clothes were streaked with dirt. “You won’t believe what we have found!” He gushed excitedly. “Oh, hi Nami! I haven’t seen you… all day?”

Nami raised an eyebrow. “Kind of… yeah?”

“Where were you? Shishishi! And where’s Zoro? I also want to tell him what we found!”

“Upstairs? Asleep? Or lost. I’m not sure.”

Luffy tilted his head a little, studying Nami. “Are you two fighting? You sound so mad at him; you kept screaming his name last night.”

Nami turned to a fiery shade of red as the others who are in the know burst out laughing.

Zoro will get it later. She will fucking break all of his bones.

Chopper jumped on the bench next to Usopp and peered at the navigator. “Did Zoro do something to make you angry, Nami?” He innocently asked without any intention of prying in his friends’ lives. He didn’t hear them fighting last night, but he did wonder why Nami didn’t sleep in the room she was supposed to share with him and Robin.

“Because Zoro is an idiot.” Nami answered with a huff. “And you know how I always get mad and scream at idiots?”

“Uh-huh. I see.”

“Nami-swaaaan!”

There was a sound of running footsteps as they all flinched at the voice. Honestly, Sanji can really hit a high pitch whenever he’s calling out female names.

“Sanji-kun,” Nami smiled at their crew’s cook. She inhaled deeply and braced herself to the onslaught of questions that she knew would be coming.

Sanji skidded into a halt beside her. He immediately got down on one knee and grasped her hands. “Are you alright my love? I can hear you yelling last night! Did that stupid swordsman hurt you?"

"I'm ok Sanji-kun. Why is everyone suddenly asking about my well-being?”

Brook’s cool voice drifted from the other side of the table as he took a seat. “Might’ve something to do with what we heard last night… even if I have no ears to hear. Yohohoho!” Franky joined him in his laughter.

“Shut up you shitty skeleton!” Sanji roared at the musician. He turned to Nami again. “Are you ok Nami-san? Your face is so red! Hey Chopper! I think my angel is sick!” He yelled for the reindeer. “I knew it! That stupid marimo did something to you! I’m going to slaughter him like a pig.”

“He did not Sanji-kun, calm down!” She tried to pacify Sanji’s ranting while the others continued laughing; except for Chopper and Luffy who had no clue about what’s going on.

“But… but those were definitely cries of agony!” Sanji blubbered. In the background Usopp mouth the word ‘agony’ in a questioning manner as Franky and Brook laughed harder. “I was barely able to stop myself from kicking the door down and coming to your rescue and beating that second-rate swordsman’s ass!”

There was a choking sound coming from Usopp who was trying to bite back his laughter. He placed one hand on the chef’s shoulder and asked with faux innocence. “Uh… and see them going at it Sanji?”

“Eh?” Was all the blond could utter out, freezing as Usopp’s question began to sink in on him.

Franky and Brook were now laughing their asses off while Robin was giggling behind her hand. Luffy and Chopper where looking at each other still not fully comprehending what was happening.

Nami pulled her hands away from Sanji’s petrified grasp and grabbed Usopp’s neck, choking him. “You dolt! You just had to say that!”

“Arck! Can’t… breathe… Nami!”

“Aaah!” Chopper screamed when saw Usopp was turning blue. “Nami stop! Doctor! We need a doctor!”

Sanji suddenly stood up. His face had turned scarlet and seemed to darken to purple as seconds ticked by. Steam came out of his ears and he shouted. “Marimoooooooooooo!”

“What shitty cook?”

The commotion in their table immediately stopped at the sound of Zoro’s voice.

Sanji spun towards him and approached him with a growl. “YOU! Grrrrrrrrr…”

Zoro stared boredly at the blond cook. “Problem?”

“You! You! $#@#!!@#!!!”

“Tch. Use some damn words.” He walked past Sanji but not before deliberately bumping his shoulder.

“Oh hey Zorooo!” Luffy shouted, waving his hands. “Zoro!”

“Captain,” the swordsman greeted with a nod as Luffy ran towards him.

“You sure take the longest nap!” Luffy said with a pout. “We found something in the forest! I want to show it to you!”

Zoro nodded. “Just let me eat first Luffy.”

“Oh! Great idea!” Luffy’s face brightened at that and he turned towards Sanji. “Oi Sanji! I want meat!”

“Urusei shitty gomu!” The cook was practically rabid that Luffy took a step back, away from him. He was snarling and cursing.

“What’s with all the noise?” Zoro asked no one in particular, looking irritable. His gray eye flicked a glance at the table before reaching down and lifting the still squawking Chopper who was trying to make Nami release Usopp. “Stop that Chopper.”

“Zoro!!!” The reindeer cried out when he realized who was holding him. “Nami’s killing Usopp! Stop her!”

“Nami,” Zoro reached out and wrapped a hand around the navigator’s wrist. “Usopp’s probably dead now.”

“Zoro!” Chopper shouted horrified.

“You!” Nami pushed Usopp away and looked up at the idiot swordsman. “Why are you awake already?”

Zoro raised an eyebrow at her. “Bed’s a bit cold. Thought I should haul you up back there.”

Franky hooted and Brook slammed his hands on the table from laughing too hard. Even a choking sound akin to laughter was coming from Usopp.

Luffy made a face. “I don’t get it. What is happening? Why is everybody laughing?”

“It’s ok Luffy,” Robin said. “Don’t mind them.”

“I don’t get it too Luffy,” Chopper admitted, thoughtfully staring at his friends.

“Nevermind it Chopper,” Zoro said placing the reindeer down on an empty seat. He patted his head and moved to the vacant place beside Nami.

A growl came from behind him. Sanji has still yet to cool down. “Oi aho kenshin. What did you do to Nami-san? Huh?”

“Oi ahocook. None of your business.”

“Why you!!!”

“Are you seriously asking me what goes on behind closed doors?” Zoro inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Sanji’s lower lip trembled at that. The stupid moss-head had a really malicious grin on his face daring him to probe much more and he will get an answer.

Of course he doesn’t want to know! He knows but he doesn’t want to hear it! Argh!

Sanji let out a wild howl followed by the sound of explosion as he suddenly burst into angry flames.

“Aaah!” Chopper screamed again, jumping on top of the table. “Water we need water! Sanji’s burning!”

“Wait, wait!” Luffy yelled. “I think I saw a barrel near the entrance earlier.” Without another word, he bounded towards the entryway with Chopper in tow.

“Zoro!” Nami hissed, harshly pulling at his shirt. “Sit your ass down here.”

“Oi quit pulling woman,” Zoro complained, plopping down on the seat beside her. The others greeted him casually as if they weren’t making fun of last night’s occurrence.

“I’m not going to be the only one to suffer their teasing! This is all your FAULT!”

Nami’s eyes narrowed when a smirk appeared on Zoro’s face. He looked like he was about to say something…

“Do not say anything that would make me clobber you.” Nami threatened. She lowered her voice a little, grateful for the noise as the pub started to fill up with customers. “For someone who initially wants to keep our relationship quiet you sure don’t care if everyone here knows what’s going on!”

Zoro frowned. “I really don’t care if they know. As long as they don’t stick their noses in our business. Like ero-cook there.” He pointed with his thumb at the blond man behind them.

Sanji was still burning bright much to the amazement of everyone inside the tavern.

“If he keeps that up, we’ll be sweeping his ashes back to the Sunny.” Robin commented matter-of-factly while watching the cook.

“Robin!” Usopp gasped. “You and your morbid thoughts!”

The raven-haired beauty just shrugged.

“Good,” Zoro muttered. “Maybe we can throw his ashes overboard or something.” He turned towards Sanji. “Keep burning swirly. You’re doing a good job.”

He was answered with a string of expletives that would shame even the worst of the worst pirate in the New World.

Nami glowered at him.

“What?” Zoro scowled at her. “Is this still not settled? I already told you last night,” he dipped his head lower to whisper in her ear. “If that’s what it takes for everyone to understand that you are mine, then hell I don’t care if they all knew that I’m fuc—”

The navigator covered his mouth with her hand before he can finish what he was saying, making sure she was grasping his cheeks as firmly as she could with every strength she can muster. She can feel the corners of his lips twitched up beneath her palm. She stared at his lone grey eye, unexpectedly filled with amusement and she pouted.

“What a jealous brute.” She mocked him, retracting her hand away.

“Damn right.” Zoro sneered at her. “You want to pull one of your stealing stints here again?”

“Hmph.”

“Oi what’s with the whispering over there?” Usopp raised an eyebrow at them. A mischievous grin appeared on his face. “Go get a room you two!”

Nami glared daggers at him as loud laughs erupted from the table again. In the background Luffy and Chopper had successfully doused the cook with water, earning his ire as he started chasing them around the table.

Zoro merely snorted. “Tch. What should a man do to get some peace and quiet while drinking here?” He stood up and headed towards the bar, leaving the Mugiwara chaos behind.

“Aren’t you going to join Zoro-san, Nami-san?” Brook inquired.

Nami dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “Zoro’s a big boy. He’ll be fine alone.”

“Uh-huh,” Franky nodded. “Had too much of each other?”

Usopp laughed and promptly shut his mouth when Nami looked at him menacingly.

“I wonder what you’ll do if some woman approaches Zoro while he is at the bar?” Robin suddenly murmured out loud with a thoughtful look on her face.

Nami raised an eyebrow at her. “Nothing? Zoro can handle it just fine.”

Usopp nodded. “Quite confident aren’t we?”

The navigator laughed. “Besides, who would dare approach him? Zoro can be scary. You said so yourself Usopp.”

“Well, Zoro has a scary face… when he is not in the mood.” The sniper agreed. “But only when he’s not in the mood.”

“But being the keyword,” Robin said with a smile. “Zoro is ruggedly handsome, I’m pretty sure a girl or two would have the guts to approach him.”

Usopp tilted his head a little and stared at Robin. She’s not doing what he thinks she’s doing, is she? He let his gaze travel back towards the orange-haired girl beside him. Nami was now frowning.

He gotta hand it to Robin. Talk about downright manipulation! This is a bit reminiscent of last night!

The scent of smoke wafted through the air as Sanji, now surprisingly dry and calm, approached the table with Luffy and Chopper, who were both sporting huge bumps on their heads. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Now sit yourselves down and do not move until the food is here on the table!”

“Hai…” The captain and the doctor intoned and obediently sat themselves on the available spots near Nami on the bench.

Sanji remained standing. “Where’s that baka marimo?”

“Bar. Drinking.” Franky answered.

“Nami-swan! Robin-chwan!” He suddenly chanted with a twirl. “Do you want something before we start dinner? Hors d’oeuvres? Aperitif? Anything?”

“I’ll have a refill of my coffee Sanji,” Robin requested.

“Orange juice please Sanji-kun,” Nami smiled sweetly at him.

“Coming mellorine!!!” The chef disappeared in a blink of an eye to cater to his two favorite ladies’ requests.

Usopp sighed. “So much for asking us if we also want something before dinner huh?”

Brook laughed softly. “Dream on Usopp-san. Dream on.”

The sniper laughed. He turned towards the bar to check on Zoro and stopped. He felt Franky nudged his feet under the table and they looked at each other. Stealthily, they stole a glance at Nami, who was now busy talking to Robin, then back at the swordsman.

They looked at each other again. This should be interesting.

Usopp sneakily motioned for him to be quiet. And the shipwright nodded. They both shifted their heads toward the bar and watched.

A rather pretty and busty woman with long, bluish-black hair had approached the swordsman and was engaged in a conversation with him. From their vantage point, they can see that the woman seems to be asking something and Zoro was nodding. Then the woman laughed, though a bit flirtily in Usopp’s opinion.

“Oh,” Brook suddenly said. “Looks like a beautiful woman is hitting on Zoro-san! Yohohoho!”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed. Usopp fought the urge to use kuro kabuto at the skeleton. Why can’t he keep that bony mouth of his shut?

“Aaah,” Brook hummed, calmly sipping his tea. “She’s just probably asking him something.”

Nami managed to throw a shoe at the stupid, old skeleton.

With a ‘hmph’ she settled back on her seat, folding her arms across her chest. She turned her attention back to the bar.

Heck, they all turned their attention towards the bar.

The woman had sidled closer to Zoro, her thighs nearly touching the green-haired man’s knee. She was saying something and it looks like Zoro was listening to her intently. The woman leaned towards the swordsman and placed a hand on his thigh, obviously showing him her generous... assets.

Beside Usopp, Nami bristled. The sniper’s eyes met the shipwright’s.

“Hmmm…” Robin murmured. “Safe to say she’s seducing him.” She looked at Nami and winked. “Oreja Fleur!”

“Robin!” Nami exclaimed.

“You don’t want to know what they are talking about?”

Nami inhaled sharply, gathering whatever pride was in her. “No.”

“Alright.”

Sanji appeared behind the navigator armed with the requested beverages. “Tch! Why is that marimo-head always attracting a beautiful woman?!” He grumbled disdainfully, placing the orange juice in front of Nami.

“I have no idea Sanji-kun.” Nami said through gritted teeth. “He’s not exactly the good-looking, approachable type.”

Usopp cleared his throat. “Talk about bad mouthing your boyfriend.”

“I beg to differ,” Brook interjected. “Zoro-san’s the kind that actually attracts women. Raw power and rock-solid muscles and…” he sighed.

“Alright! Enough!” Usopp stopped him, shivering. “That’s just creepy Brook!”

“Oh hey!” Luffy called out suddenly. “I think Zoro made a new friend! Let’s go meet her Chopper!”

“Yes!” Chopper agreed.

“Hold it aho captain,” Sanji hooked a finger behind Luffy’s shirt. “You too Chopper.”

“Why isn’t that moron pushing her away?” Nami growled. “See! This is how dense he is. He doesn’t know if a girl is outright flirting with him or seducing him!”

“Are you talking from experience?” Usopp queried.

“Shut it Usopp!”

“Oops another one who can’t keep her hands to herself!” Franky whistled as the woman reached out to play with the swordsman’s earrings.

“That idiot!” Nami snarled. 

“Thought you weren’t the jealous type girlie?” Franky raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not!” Nami answered hotly. “But no one touches the earrings! No one!”

 Robin was trying to stifle her laugh.

“Nami, maybe she’s just asking him where he got it or something.” Usopp suggested, moving a lit-tle out of harm’s way.

Nami glowered at him. “Oh really Usopp? She can ask. Does she need to touch?”

This time even Luffy and Chopper was shuffling farther away from the orange-haired girl and closer to the cook.

“But Nami-san...”

“Shut up Sanji-kun!”

“Hey, who knows, maybe Zoro will be pickpocketing her also? That’s why he’s letting her slink closer. ” Franky queried in a jesting manner.

“Maybe he’ll do more than pick her pocket?” Brook said cheekily… even if he had no cheeks and was all bones.

Nami’s glare on them was icy enough to freeze the whole room. Her brown orbs shifted towards the bar again just in time to see the woman brazenly touch the pommel of Zoro’s red sword. She tapped a finger on it before completely wrapping her hand around the sword’s hilt.

“Oh?” Franky’s eyes widened.

“Oh?!” Usopp coughed at the display.

“Yohohoho! That was pretty suggestive…” Brook commented.

Nami slammed her hands down on the table. Her eyes were hidden underneath her orange bangs and she was emitting a rather strange and chilling aura.

Everyone saved for Robin backed away from the obviously enraged navigator.

“No one,” she whispered in a really cool and steady tone. Like the calm before the storm. “No one gets to touch the swords but me! No one!” She moved away from the table and marched towards where the idiot swordsman and that equally idiot woman are currently talking.

“Nami-san!” Sanji called out to stop her. But one look from Nami immediately made him shut his mouth.

“Oh shit,” Usopp was looking around his crewmates’ faces. ​It was just like last night. Only this time the tables have turned.

“And she said she’s not the jealous type huh?” Franky shook his head at the absurdity of it.

Nami confidently approached the bar with a flip of her orange locks, ignoring the looks and lewd eyes from the other pub patrons that followed her. It stopped once they saw that she was heading towards the green-haired man with three swords, who had a pretty woman cozying up to him… the lecherous gazes turning into curious stares.

The moment she was near enough, she suddenly closed her hand around the woman’s wrist with enough force to make her cry out. “Excuse me, do you mind?” Nami gave her one of her sassiest smiles, forcefully removing her grip from Zoro’s sword.

“Hey ouch!” The black-haired woman glared at her darkly. “Do YOU mind? I’m trying to—”

“I’ll ask nicely,” Nami cut her off, wedging herself between Zoro and the woman, forcing her to take a step back.  “Can please keep your hands to yourself?” She leaned against the bar counter, the smile never leaving her face. Nami silently gloated that the woman was a few inches shorter than her and that she can look at the bitch down her nose.

“Oi Nami,” Zoro began.

“Shut up,” she said through gritted teeth, still all smiles.

And Zoro promptly kept his trap shut at her tone. The whole bar seemed to fall into a hush as conversations dwindled and shouts turned to whispers.

The woman suddenly smirked, not the one to be deterred. She took a step forward and was face to face with Nami. “Why the hell would I do that when I have a finely toned man in front of me?”

The navigator sneered at that as one hand proceeded to pull out her Clima-tact. Zoro immediately noticed it and made a grab for her hand as stealthily as he could. They are not sure if this woman is alone or not. If Nami decides to fry her with thunderbolts, they might possibly engage in an unwanted scuffle.

“Because this finely toned man is mine!” Nami said with enough venom in her tone to kill a sea king. Her finger nails dug into Zoro’s skin painfully, and he fought the urge to wince. Nami is in a piss off mood and he can feel her clawing at his hand with enough force to draw blood. “Touch him again and I will rip you apart.”

The woman folded her arms across her chest. “I see no ring around his finger darling.” She smiled in an obnoxious manner. “And even if he did, that wouldn’t stop me from jumping him.” She reached out to touch Zoro but Nami’s hand closed around her wrist again, fast.

“I already said no touching.”

“And I’m not listening.”

There was a pause and the whole bar seemed to hold its breath, waiting…

Then everyone gasped in surprise when Nami’s other hand suddenly shot up and punched the living daylights out of the infuriating woman.

No one said a word for a minute as eyes widened and jaws dropped simultaneously. Everyone was looking at the woman who had toppled over one of the bar stools from the force of Nami’s fist.

“You bitch!” The woman managed to hiss as she woozily tried to stand, clutching her cheek.

Nami took a step closer to her and Zoro snapped to attention.

His arm snaked around the navigator’s slim waist stopping her from moving closer to the other female.

“Let me at her Zoro!” Nami’s voice cracked like a whip across the silent bar.

“Stop it Nami!”

The woman grab the edge of the bar counter to steady herself. The orange-haired girl can pack a punch despite her slim physique. She glared daggers at Nami.

Suddenly the whole bar erupted into cheers.

“Place your bets!!!” Usopp suddenly shouted on top of the hoots and roars. A choruses of ‘yeah’ filled the air.

“10,000 beli for that still woozy chick!”

“15,000 for that orange-haired gal!”

“Another 10,000 for—”

Robin giggled into her hand as all around her people chanted and shouted their bets. “Oh my!”

“Looks like Nami’s in for the kill,” Franky laughed as he watched the swordsman stepped between the two women to prevent them from attacking each other.

“U-weh!” Chopper had stars in his eyes. Nami was so cool!

“Nami-swaaaan!!!” Sanji was screaming himself hoarse. “Nami-swaan that was a lovely punch! I’m placing all my money on you my love!”

“Go Nami!!!” Luffy joined the cheers, pumping both fists into the air and accidentally knocking back a pirate who was passing by, drinking his rum.

“Hey! Why you…”

“Oops!”

“You little piece of shit!”

“Ah!”

“No captain don’t!!!” Somebody shouted from behind. Tables and chairs crashed as said captain tried to lunge at Luffy who promptly jumped at another table filled with drinking pirates.

“Oi!!!”

“Sumimasen!” The straw hat wearing captain apologized.

“Captain stop! That is straw hat Lu—”

“Let me at him!!!”

There was a crash as the captain’s subordinates doggy piled him to stop him from attacking Luffy.

Robin giggled again as she stood up, taking her coffee and book as she strolled away from their table. “This is so much better than last night.”

“I so agree Robin-san,” Brook nodded as he followed the archaeologist;s example, grabbing his teacup and sauntering away just as a brawny customer landed on their table, splitting it in half.

And just like that the whole pub erupted into chaos as pirate crews and random pub patrons brawled with each other; throwing tables, chairs, bottles and plates and anything they can get their hands on.

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

Zoro clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He managed to drag Nami away from the skirmish and the woman. They were now outside the inn watching the madness inside unfolding as Luffy’s laughter echoed all throughout the pub.

He turned to the still incensed navigator.

“Heh, got a taste of your own medicine?”

Nami's only response was a dirty look directed at him.

And he laughed. “Can’t say I’m not amused.” He reached out and ruffled her hair as she slapped his hand away. “No wonder you do it all the time.”

“Do it again and there’ll be hell to pay Zoro!”

“Hahaha!” He reached for her hand, the one she used to punch the annoying woman’s face. “Nice hit by the way.” He brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. Once the adrenaline passes Nami will be complaining endlessly about the pain in her hand.

He stared at her with a smirk. She was still scowling and fuming. It will take a lot to get her to stop sulking after this.

But it was probably worth it. Maybe this will taper down her flirting antics, if not put a stop to it.

He tugged at her hand, drawing her closer to him. He kissed her forehead, earning a small sigh from her. “Come on. Let’s just go back to the Sunny.”

“Wait. I’m still pissed off with all of these. That punch was not enough.”

“What are you planning?” He asked when she brought out her Clima-tact.

She gave him a mischievous smile.

“Zeus!”

[mrs-berry]

Sweet Tooth

Chapter 2/2 of Hide Me / Sweet Tooth

Note: I decided to add a second part to my Hide Me fic. You can read that first either here on Tumblr or here on AO3.

Part 7 of Avril Amour (Adrinette April 2019)

By mrs_berry

@adrinetteapril

Click here to read on AO3!

After the akuma attack, Marinette invited Adrien to get André's ice cream so they could enjoy the tasty treat while having their promised discussion.

They were licking their ice creams in companionable silence while both of them gathered their thoughts.

Adrien's ice cream was a little different from last time. His first scoop was strawberry with chocolate chip again, to represent Ladybug, but his second scoop was peach pink, Marinette's favourite colour, topped with the same blueberry scoop for her eyes.

Marinette's also differed slightly; her first scoop was blackberry, to represent Chat Noir, the second scoop was mint green again to match his eyes, and topped with same peach pink as before for his lips.

"You really are wolfing that thing down," Marinette observed.

"I don't get to eat delicious desserts like this often," Adrien replied between licks.

Marinette giggled. Whenever he visited her house since they've started dating, he always had hearts in his eyes when her parents offered him baked goods and sweets. Come to think of it, she discovered his love for sweet food before they started dating. Chat had looked like he was in heaven while eating treats during that awkward breakfast at her house. And Adrien had devoured her mother's pie outside on a bench that one time he came to practice in her room for the video game tournament.

"You really do have a sweet tooth," Marinette said, smiling fondly at him. Adrien hummed in agreement, too engrossed in his heavenly food to respond properly.

They ate in silence for a few more moments to finish off their ice cream.

"You know, the last time I ate this ice cream was after the Glaciator battle," Marinette reminisced, breaking the silence. "Thinking back on it, I realized that the reason you didn't hang out with the group of us was because you were preparing the surprise for Ladybug. Back then, I hadn't realized your feelings for Ladybug were sincere until you showed up on my rooftop looking like your heart had been shattered."

Adrien gave a wry smile at the memory. How ironic was it that they had both stood each other up in order to be with their other selves. It was the strangest predicament and neither had any idea at the time just how bizarre it really was.

"By the way, I'm sorry for that. I would have shown up if I knew that you were serious about Ladybug. Even if it would have still been to turn you down," Marinette apologized. Chuckling, she added, "God, we have been so dumb and blind this whole time, you know? And Tikki and Plagg have probably been stressing and fed up with us ever since Dark Owl."

"Darn right, pigtails! This boy is the literal definition of a dumb blond if you ask me. Though, no offense, you're not much better from what Sugarcube tells me," Plagg butted in.

"Plagg! That's not very nice," Tikki scolded. "Let's leave them alone, they have plenty to discuss right now. And stop calling me that!"

"Thanks, Tikki," Marinette gave her kwami a sweet little peck.

Tikki beamed, then her and a grumbling Plagg flew a little ways away like they had during the reveal, once again giving their chosens a little privacy.

"Heh, you and Plagg are right though. We had been turning each other down in one form, for the other form of ourselves. That is, until I chose you, Marinette, over Ladybug a few weeks ago. It was the hardest decision of my life giving up on my partner, but I knew she was right and that we could never know each other outside of the masks," Adrien stated, then laughed at the complete and utter irony. "And yet, I still ended up with my partner anyway, just her civilian self instead. And then I ended up learning her secret superhero identity, too." Adrien looked into his beautiful girlfriend's bluebell eyes, wondering how he could have gotten so lucky to end up with someone as amazing as her.

"We could have been together forever ago if I hadn't been so set on keeping our secret identities," Marinette murmured regretfully, giving him a sheepish smile afterwards.

"I like your sense of duty, Marinette. I think it's really cool," he admitted with awe. "But you're probably right that we could have been dating since the beginning of the school year—if only we just shared our biggest secrets and put the safety of each other and Paris at risk."

Marinette laughed, her eyes glittering with mirth and gratitude. "Well, when you put it like that, I guess there was no way for our identities to be revealed, other than by accident, of course."

"Speaking of accidents... how exactly did you uncover my secret?" Adrien's eyes twinkled with fascination. Finally, he was able to ask one of the questions that had been plaguing his mind for the past few hours.

Marinette's face turned beet red. "Um, it's nothing interesting. I just saw you talking to Plagg in public. T-that's all."

Adrien leaned in close. "Are you lying?" He asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

"N-no! Me, lie?" Marinette's voice cracked, completely giving her away. She always was a terrible liar. Sighing, then inhaling deeply, she said quickly, "ImayhavetransformedintoLadybugandcheckedinonyouinyourbedroomwhenyourfatherwouldn'tletmeseeyouthatonetimewhenyouhadabadday."

Adrien burst into laughter, reminding Marinette of the time his umbrella closed on her. This was the laughter she had fallen in love with and she was always at her happiest when she got to see it again on the rare—but slowly becoming more frequent—occasion.

"Somehow, I think I caught the gist of what you said, I guess I'm becoming rather fluent in Marinette-speak," Adrien said with a wink. "I don't know why you're embarrassed about it, though. It makes me really happy to know that you were worried about me enough to come see me in the only way that was possible for you."

Adrien stared at Marinette with pure love and adoration in his eyes. How did Marinette get so lucky to end up with someone as amazing as him?

"Thank you... for understanding. And for not being creeped out by my weirdness," Marinette whispered.

"Trust me, I'm just as weird as you, so if anything, I'm thankful that we are so similar," he whispered back, leaning his forehead gently against hers.

As if there were magnets, the two felt their lips being drawn together. As they met in a kiss so pure and loving, both of them could feel their hearts melting.

They would have been happy to stay in that moment forever, but Adrien still had a few more questions.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, he murmured, "I love you." Marinette's gasp was nearly inaudible, but Adrien was so close that he heard it. His eyes widened in fear when he realized what he had just said. "I-I'm sorry! I mean, it's true, but—"

Marinette gently slapped her palm over his mouth to stop him from saying anything more. Withholding her laughter (he was so cute when he was flustered, it made her want to laugh) and eyes full of affection, she whispered back, "I love you, too, silly."

Adrien's eyes glistened and he had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He was so happy, he didn't know what to do with himself. So he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She gladly returned his warm hug, languidly patting his back.

After a few moments, they finally pulled back and looked into each other's eyes again.

"So, what else did you want to ask me, kitty?" Marinette prompted him, brushing her fingers along his bangs in an affectionate gesture, which he seemed to enjoy.

"What did you do when you found out I was Chat Noir?" He had been very curious about that, since she had turned down his superhero self before. Had she been disappointed?

"Honestly, I was back home before I even realized it and then I totally freaked out. Poor Tikki probably hated me that night," Marinette admitted with embarrassment.

"But... were you upset? Disappointed? Did you regret that you were dating me, now that you knew your boyfriend was also Chat?" Adrien looked like a puppy that has just been kicked as he asked these questions.

"What?! Not even for a second! It was a little weird to think about how you two were the same person when one of you is a pathological flirt and the other is a cinnamon roll. But eventually it made sense and I was ecstatic to know that you were also my amazing partner, whom I trust more than anybody in the world," Marinette reassured, caressing his cheek.

Adrien smiled in relief at her answer. But then he replayed what she said in his head and spouted out, "I'm not a pathological flirt! I only flirt with you... And what do you mean I'm a cinnamon roll? That I'm delicious and sweet?" Adrien cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Okay, 'pathological' may have been an exaggeration," Marinette rolled her eyes in amusement. "As for cinnamon roll, you are close, but I'm not calling you a literal cinnamon roll. It's a relatively new term used for someone who is kind and sweet, but suffers more hardship than they deserve. You have to agree that this definition fits you to a T."

Adrien felt his cheeks warm. He was great at dishing out compliments to Marinette/Ladybug but not as good at receiving them from her. "T-thanks," he managed to mutter in response.

Marinette giggled at his humbleness, dropping her hand from his cheek. Then she decided to lean on his shoulder and return the question, "What did you think when you found out I was Ladybug? Were you upset or disappointed?"

Adrien frowned as he instinctively put his arm around her waist. "Are you kidding?" A look of pure glee quickly replaced his frown. "It was the best possible outcome. My amazing girlfriend is my amazing partner. Really, I shouldn't have been shocked at all. Everyday Ladybug is Ladybug herself. You made me fall for you twice, in and out of the suit. You are one impressive lady, you know."

Marinette was glad her face was hidden. All she ever seemed to do was blush around him. She burrowed her face into his neck, whispering a sincere, "Thank you."

They went quiet again, lost in their own thoughts of each other.

Marinette began feeling sleepy as time crept by. She needed to go home soon or she was sure she'd fall asleep being so comfortably nestled against her boyfriend.

"Anything else you want to ask me?" she mumbled quietly, fatigue evident in her voice.

"I'm good for now, Mari," he chuckled at her cute sleepy voice. "I think it's time for this princess to get some beauty sleep."

Marinette hummed in agreement. Adrien slipped his arms under her legs and lifted her in a princess carry, befitting of his nickname for her.

Marinette squirmed, protesting, "I-I can walk!" But Adrien just chuckled and continued carrying her home.

She buried her face into his shoulder in self-consciousness, hiding her face from the curious onlookers. People continued to stare at the couple as he carried her home.

But Adrien couldn't care less what other people thought. He was holding his girlfriend, his Lady, the woman of his dreams, his true love.

Adrien realized as he looked down at the sleepy girl in his arms that André's delicious ice cream really was magic, containing the power to bring two people in love together.

Adrien smiled; his love life was perfectly sweet and the two lovebirds were blissfully happy at last.

[swipestream]

SUPERVERISVE: “Trigun” is indeed probably the most Christian anime ever

I really didn’t know what to expect with “Trigun”.

Everybody had been recommending it to me for awhile, but I had tried the first couple of episodes already. They weren’t bad, but the show never really clicked for me. I was left there scratching my head wondering what was supposedly so special about it. I got why somebody might enjoy it in a “It’s not that great but it’s amusing” sort of way, but no more than that.

And then to be told that at its heart it was a Catholic story philosophically, thematically, and morally?

It should have been right up my alley, but I didn’t see the path from point A to point B. Still, so many people were praising it, and it had been recommended to me so many times, that I felt obligated to finish the series out. It’s not as if it was painfully bad or anything, and there must be SOMETHING to all the talk, right?

So I kept watching.

And man am I glad I did.

“Trigun” is an excellent show.

“Trigun” is the story of Vash the Stampede as told by insurance girls Meryl and Millie. Vash is a mysterious yet highly destructive drifter from the western-style planet of Gunsmoke, and Meryl and Millie have been tasked with following him around because every time he shows his face it costs their company enormous amounts of money. Vash has a 60 billion double dollar bounty on his head, but there’s something strange about him:

He’s a really, really great guy. Funny, fun, great with children, defender of the weak and helpless, and abhorrent of all killing of any kind.

So what’s with the bounty? And what’s with Vash?

And there’s your story.

“Trigun” starts off as light as a feather, even goofy, and then gets…dark. Really, really dark. Bloody deaths of beloved characters type dark.

“Trigun” is a show that is great at little, bad at some (the animation is rather weak, though I find much criticism of the dub to be unwarranted), but good at almost everything, and by the time it all ends the whole feels much greater than the sum of its parts. One thing the show is particularly good at is making you empathize with everyone, even the bit characters – nobody is acting like a jerk just to act like a jerk. If you have a giant wall up guarded by gunmen to keep out outsiders, you probably have a good reason for it and don’t just hate orphans. And if you want to kill Vash the Stampede, well, join the club.

“Trigun” is also uncompromisingly brutal when it comes to exploring its themes. Vash has taken the philosophy of “Thou shalt not kill” to the extreme, refusing to do so even in self-defense or defense of others, at least at the point of the series’ start. And we love Vash for it!

But it’s not so black and white. How many lives would Vash have saved if he’d just killed Knives? Hundreds? Thousands? And what if it really does come to protecting innocents, in that moment? Should you STILL not kill? Why not? And what does it mean for you if you do?

“Trigun” asks these questions without flinching, putting the matter before you as starkly as possible. And we never really get straight answers.

“Trigun’s” characters are rather unmemorable as a whole, with a few notable exceptions. Legato is one of the most chillingly horrifying villains I’ve ever seen, Vash himself gets a lot of rich character development, and, of course, preacher man Nicholas D. Wolfwood, the man with the most badass Cross on the planet, is the most awesome character in the whole damn show.

The man. The myth. The legend. Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Let’s talk a little more about Wolfwood, who is a fascinating character. It is interesting that Vash, “The humanoid typhoon” who doesn’t really talk about God or religion all that much, is the absolute pacifist of the group, while Wolfwood, the Priest, provides the counterargument. Wolfwood believes in a rougher world than Vash and in some ways comes from a rougher world than Vash, so he finds Vash’s no-kill policy naive, frustrating, and insulting, implying that men like him who kill to protect themselves or others are just as bad as cold-blooded murderers. It’s a legitimate grief, and the show portrays it that way. Like the best fiction neither side is shown as being exactly “right” or “wrong”. Instead, the idea is explored and examined in an intelligent and even-handed way.

There’s so much more to say about Wolfwood, who is truly a fantastic and fantastically written character, but to go deeply into what makes him so great would be to get into some really annoying spoilers, so instead I’ll leave this fantastic article out there for all of you to read when you finish the series.

The final episode – at least the second half, when the useless clip section of the episode is over – features one of the most outstanding gunfights I’ve ever seen on screen, almost completely dialogue free and brilliantly filmed. And the ending?

Well…

When I first saw it I’ll just say I was REALLY, REALLY ANGRY, though my brother pointed out some small details about the scene that helped me look at it in a new light. Still, it’s fair to say that it makes you think and stays with you a long time after it’s over.

Worth noting: “Trigun” features one of the most beautifully shot and filmed death scenes I have ever seen, and one of the saddest. I won’t say who it is who dies, but the scene is so well-done I feel that it is worth calling out specifically as being perhaps the best scene of the entire show. I don’t think I’ll need to link it – you’ll all know what I mean.

“Trigun” isn’t a masterpiece on the level of “Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood”, “Cowboy Bebop”, or the first half of “Death Note”. It never reaches the insanely high heights of any of those shows. Yet it’s never truly bad, even during its slow start, and it evolves into something that feels unique despite the fact that the sci-fi western is essentially its own sub-genre, with shows as brilliant as “Cowboy Bebop”, “Firefly”, and “Outlaw Star” (so I’ve been told, anyway) all fitting into that niche. Its uncompromising and unflinching nature gives it a fresh perspective on a lot of well-worn themes, and its take on Christianity feels both sympathetic yet somehow alien – like it’s being investigated by an outsider and all of its potential weaknesses are being shaken out and examined. When everything in the show’s DNA all clicks together the result is excellent comedy and compelling, and sometimes devastating, drama. While I don’t think it’s up with the top tier of shows, if somebody were to tell me it was their favorite I could definitely understand that.

Is it superversive?: Yes, fascinatingly so

Overall score: 8 of 10. Well worth your time.

(A note – after googling around while writing this article I’ve found that there is a TON of excellent “Trigun” analysis out there to read – it really is a much deeper series than you might give it credit for at first glance. Many of these essays are fascinating, and it might be worth your time just to google something like “Trigun Christianity” and look at some of them if you’re that type of guy!)

SUPERVERISVE: “Trigun” is indeed probably the most Christian anime ever published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight]

A Glimpse at Love

Summary: Maryse checks in on Alec, only to find herself witnessing him with Magnus for the first time since they became serious. She realizes how mistaken she was to not support the relationship in the past after seeing the positive change in her son and finds herself happy they found each other despite so much of the world working against them.

Rating: K

Genre: Tooth-rotting Fluff, Romance

Author: dylanobrienstyler

Can also be read on AO3!

It was strange being back at the New York Institute as such a passive member of the Clave. It certainly had a different feel to it than when it was under previous leadership. Perhaps it was the young age of the newer leader, inspiring more of his fellow comrades than the ones before, or maybe it was because of everything that had happened with Valentine and the recent uprising gaining fire in the Shadow World, but there was something more community-like than before.

Maryse knew she could blame it on a lot of things, but her pride in it being her son at the helm at a time of change was unwavering.

She had hoped for Alec to find his place as Head of the Institute at some point. She and Robert, when they had better days, had always saw his leadership skills and level head even in crises to be fitting of a future leader of the Institute. He didn't let emotions cloud his judgment and could see farther than just what was right in front of him. The selfish part of them enjoyed the idea of a Lightwood being in such an honorary role, but Maryse knew it also was a pride in their son's career blooming that lead the desire to set him up for such a role down the road.

So when Jace handed the leadership over to Alec easily, she knew it wasn't just she and her husband who had faith in him. There were others, peers, that saw him in such a light too. And Alec already was stepping up and making change the way she never imagined she'd see in such an aged institution and with the Clave breathing down his neck. But he stood tall and marched on, and for that, she was immeasurably proud.

Still, she found herself musing over when he became such a strong, independent and confident man. Her little boy had come a long way from the shy, quiet child she once knew.

Passing the head office, she paused, knowing Alec was hard at work inside. She didn't want to interrupt his work but she was curious if he was enjoying the job as much as he led on. She knew it was not a walk in the park, many tough decisions falling entirely in his hands, and, as capable as he may be, it was still a burden to bear.

Maryse knew she had made enough mistakes in the past trying to pressure Alec into something he was not; she'd hate if, on some level, he was taking this job on to appease anyone outside of himself.

Knowing it wasn't a guilt-free indulgence, she drew a quick rune that created a secret window to let her peek inside the room.

Alec, sure enough, was inside, fingers flying over the tablet before him, his brow furrowed in concentration. She couldn't believe how grown up he looked these days. It was like he flew from preteen to adulthood before she even had a chance to blink. She knew that was hardly true; it was just hard for a parent to really grasp how fast their kids grow up when they're there to witness it all along.

A portal suddenly opened behind Alec, and she nearly shouted in terror like she was watching a mundane horror movie, but outstepped Magnus Bane, and Maryse realized that of course it would be him. They had wards up at the institute after all, ones that he himself put in place. He would be the only one able to portal in.

Alec's entire body language changed when Magnus appeared in the room, and Maryse watched in fascination at the sight of her son with his boyfriend properly for the first time.

She had witnessed their dramatic declaration at Alec's wedding of course; that wasn't something she would forget any time soon. But beyond that, she'd been at Idris or Alec hadn't been with Magnus in front of her, so it was too easy to forget that all this time they had been getting closer and more serious. She knew they were romantically involved and had been for some time, but witnessing it firsthand was definitely new and she couldn't help but be a little curious.

Especially now that she saw how quickly Alec changed at the sight of the other man. He had immediately risen to his feet, his expression warming as a smile graced his face.

"Am I going to have to stage an intervention? You are spending way too much time holed up in this office. And, though adorable, that crease in your brow is going to be a permanent fixture if you don't take some breaks now and then." Magnus was teasing him as Alec tucked an arm around his waist.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Adorable, huh? Did you really come all this way to mock me?"

"Hmm. No, you caught me. I came for the kiss." Magnus said, cupping Alec's jaw as Alec dipped his head down to kiss him.

"I just have a couple things to do then we can go home." Alec was saying, kissing Magnus once more before breaking away to reorganize some files on his desk.

Home. Maryse felt her heart warm that Alec referred to their shared space as such. She wondered how long it had taken for him to take residence with the one he loved.

Magnus seated himself on the couch, crossing his legs as he stretched out his arms across the leather backing. "You know, this office is really nice. Sure you didn't accept the promotion just to have this to yourself?"

Alec chuckled, sending him an amused look. "And here I thought I was being subtle. It was not about having a position of power to actually make a long overdue change within the Shadow World. It was all about the fine decor."

Magnus smirked mischievously and dragged Alec backwards so he fell into his lap.

"Magnus!"

"A man after my own heart. But, you know, if that was the reason, you would probably be home on time more." he said conversationally, as if he hadn't just pulled his lanky boyfriend on top of him.

Alec sighed exasperatedly. "You know, this is why I don't have you visit me at the Institute more often. I can't get a thing done here with you around."

But Alec was settling into his hold, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his boyfriend's neck.

"But I do miss you when I'm here." he admitted softly.

Magnus' face changed, resembling melted chocolate as he smiled back tenderly at the Nephilim. "I miss you too."

His own fingers were drawing circles into Alec's lower back, and Alec leaned his head onto Magnus' shoulder, nuzzling his face into his neck. Magnus pulled him more comfortably against him, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

Alec yawned. "I'm exhausted. The rest of this can wait. Can we go home now?"

"Of course, my love. Your wish is my command." Magnus replied, and, with a flick of his wrist, a portal surfaced in the corner of the room.

Alec stood up, interlocking their fingers immediately as Magnus followed, and the pair walked through the portal together, leaving nothing but the quiet office behind.

Maryse reversed her rune and leaned against the wall, wiping a stray tear off her cheek.

Her son had found the love she had always hoped he would. And she may not have understood it at first, but she did now. And she was over the moon to see the changes true love had made to her prodigal son.

She knew she'd never speak ill of him dating a Downworlder again. Both men clearly shared something special, something that invoked change in both of them, and it was a beautiful sight to see.

Alec laughing and teasing and tender with another person; he had similar moments with his siblings, but nothing to the degree he shared with Magnus just then. The way he melted into his touch, kissed him casually, maintained physical contact at all times–she knew that was not something he once would have done so easily. He trusted Magnus deeply, possibly more than any other person, even his parabatai. She was sure it took some time, as it would for anyone but especially someone as distrustful of his own heart as Alec had been, but she was glad he had finally found someone to pour his heart into.

She could only hope the rest of her children would be so lucky to have what Magnus and Alec had.

And with that, Maryse left the hallway, planning to tuck the exchange she witnessed away to remember for a long time to come, when she needed reminding that there was always hope when love like that was out there in the world.

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

Under Your Spell

[Part 1: “Bewitched”]

content: “It's not easy to live with a witch.”

word count: 5,881

author's note: After participating in @destieldrabblesdaily‘s fanfiction contest last year, a lot of people asked me to continue this series and I'm honestly happy to oblige <33 And since I recently gained 2,000 followers I thought this would be a good way to celebrate!!

[AO3]

It's not easy to live with a witch.

At least some people told Dean beforehand that it would be crazy to move in with his uniquely magical boyfriend who tends to turn things that usually are very much quiet and motionless into something alive and chatty.

That he'd lose the last bit of privacy and sanity along the way and probably end up in a special ward at the hospital, talking to himself.

And yeah, sure, their concerns weren't exactly unfounded, Dean's able to admit that. It may seem strange from an outsider's point of view to actually crave to live in a place that's more or less the pure definition of madness and Dean's honestly still not really used to the coffeemaker talking his ear off first thing in the morning or the candlesticks performing their weird and somewhat disturbing dance everytime they hear even the faint sound of a pop song.

It's insane. It's wild. Sometimes it's even freaking terrifying.

But Dean doesn't want it any other way.

And it's not like he didn't know beforehand what he would get himself into. Even before the official move he spent almost all his free time at Castiel's house since they got together almost a year ago. His own place kept being silent and boringly normal and Dean grew to hate it the few times he stayed there all on his own, so early on in their relationship Dean made it a habit to come over to Castiel's house right after work to enjoy the company of his boyfriend as well as his talking household and his unperturbed cat familiar Douglas.

And of course one thing led to another and more times than not Dean spent the night in Castiel's Swedish bed and left for work the next day, not even once stepping into his own house.

So it didn't take long for Castiel to give Dean a key, smiling all gently and happily while doing so, and Dean even had less reason to visit his own place apart from gathering some clothes and airing the rooms out once in a while.

So yes, right from the start Dean had every intention to share his future living space with the man he loved and the magic that made his life a thousand times more interesting. And when Castiel shyly offered a permanent arrangement about two months ago Dean enthusiastically agreed, accompanied by the orchids on the windowsill cooing like the two grown men in front of them were the cutest thing they ever witnessed and the armchair yelling, “It's about freaking time! Humans are seriously so unnecessarily complicated!”

Yeah, Dean honestly doesn't want it any other way.

*  *  *  *  *

Even when he walks into the kitchen one day and is greeted by a darting flame coming out of the pot on the oven, he doesn't feel even remotely reluctant because of his current situation.

He even finds himself smirking as he notices Castiel standing next to the counter, watching the fire with an awe that makes his face look like a child, all wonder and fascination.

“Hey, babe,” Dean says softly.

Castiel turns around and smiles warmly, looking altogether so freaking inviting that Dean can't keep himself from circling his arms around Castiel's waist and pull him closer. Every single morning the witch is a sight to behold, sleep mussed and rumpled and goddamned perfect, and Dean isn't certain he'll ever get used to it.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel says, pressing a soft kiss underneath Dean's ear.

“Care to explain why you're burning the kitchen down?” Dean asks, chuckling amused. He still keeps the fire in view, just to be safe, but since neither the overly dramatic mixer nor the talkative toaster seem to freak out Dean deems the situation secure enough to cuddle with his boyfriend for a while.

“There is no burning down happening here,” Castiel objects. “It's a potion for Mrs. Gallagher. Her hip is getting worse.”

Dean feels his freaking heart swell at the look of concern on his boyfriend's face. “You're way too nice, Cas,” he says anyway, though the fondness in his voice probably belies his words. Quite spectacularly.

It's endearing how Castiel always makes time to help people in need with his special skills. Just last week he spent forty-eight hours to brew a potion for a baby with colic, so fucking determined to make the whole thing work that Dean actually had to force him to go to bed at some point because Castiel totally ignored his own body signals.

He's a freaking angel and no one can convince Dean otherwise.

“There is no such thing as 'too nice',” Castiel chides. “I just want to have this ready before going on the field trip tomorrow.”

The corners of Dean's mouth droop immediately at the reminder.

He really doesn't want to think about missing Castiel for four whole days because the stupid school he's working for decided that the students need to see something else than the four walls of their classroom, so he nuzzles Castiel's neck and inhales deeply.

For a few minutes they stay like that, in each other's arms while the flame slowly decreases next to them, and Dean wonders if he could ever be happier than right now.

It doesn't seem very likely.

“Do you really have to go?” Dean asks, probably for the hundredth time since Castiel told him about the plans. And he sure as hell knows that he sounds like a petulant teenager and a clingy boyfriend at the same time, but he can't help himself. Four days seem like a fucking eternity.

No Castiel first thing in the morning. No messy hair. No stunningly blue eyes.

No fires in the kitchen and no one to argue with the sound system about the importance of climate change.

For Dean that sounds like boring four days.

Castiel's finger trail over the sensitive skin of Dean's neck. “We've been over this before, love,” he whispers, knowing fair well that Dean can't resist such cutesy pet names without blushing. “It's an important experience for the children and New York isn't really that far away …”

Dean huffs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. And the kid's parents probably don't make such a fuss as me, right?”

Castiel laughs, but doesn't contradict.

“It will be over in no time, you'll see,” he promises. “And in the meanwhile you can do anything you usually don't with me around.”

Dean frowns. “Like what? Running around naked?” He snorts. “That way more fun with you around, Cas.”

It's always delightful to witness Castiel flush confronted with even the slightest innuendo. “I actually thought more about listening to your music on full blast or watching movies with inaccurate facts about the supernatural.”

Dean arches an eyebrow. “Hey, you love 'Buffy' too, just admit it!”

“It's still highly inaccurate,” Castiel retorts. “So when I'm gone you can watch it in peace without me sitting next to you and ranting about exploding vampires.”

Dean contemplates this offer for a bit. Granted, some of his favorite movies and TV shows have been interrupted more than once by Castiel's ongoing commentary about humanity's knowledge gap concerning the supernatural and it'd definitely be kinda nice to watch and enjoy them without someone prattling away for a change.

But still …

“That's not worth not seeing you for four days,” Dean counters, pulling the corners of his mouth downwards.

Castiel cups Dean's cheek, his expression so soft and loving it would make anyone's throat tightening, before he leans in and presses a long kiss onto Dean's lips. They almost immediately lose themselves in each other, reveling in their touches, skin on skin, and Dean knows without a doubt that he will miss this like crazy.

*  *  *  *  *

They make out like horny teenagers probably longer than socially acceptable and right before Dean is about to heave Castiel onto the kitchen counter and take things further, the familiar voice of Douglas makes them both startle.

“Hey, guys, why the fuck is the kitchen burning down??”

*  *  *  *  *

In the end it's just a small fire, no casualties, and Dean can't help feeling a bit smug that they'd been so invested with each other that they totally missed the raging fire right next to them.

Granted, Douglas is not happy about it and neither is the fire extinguisher they had to wake from his slumber in order to put out the flames.

But hell, it's seriously worth it watching Castiel blush like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar, yet wearing that adorable little smile at the same time, as if he's somehow proud about it.

Yeah, Dean honestly doubts that he could ever be happier than right now.

*  *  *  *  *

Dean is very eager to make the last day before the field trip as amazing as possible.

And sure, maybe it seems a bit like overkill because in the end it will be just four days and he'll most likely be quite preoccupied with his job anyway, designing new car parts and finishing an important project that's due by the end of the week, but the thought of returning to an empty house – or, well, a house without Castiel in it, at least, since that place is never empty – is depressing as hell and Dean can't bear to even think about it for too long.

So for the rest of the day he takes up all of Castiel's attention and doesn't waste his time with feeling guilty about it, especially because the witch seems to be utterly delighted by all the extra attention.

They share their breakfast like one of these cutesy couples who feed each other and giggle constantly while simultaneously spending so much time with kissing and nuzzling and touching that their pancakes get cold and both the oven and the microwave refuse to reheat them out of spite, grumbling surly and calling them “so gross they wish they could grow some legs and bolt as fast as possible”.

Also the fridge obviously feels the urge to vocalize his displeasure by “vomiting” some of the milk onto the floor as a visual image and ordering them to go before he would call for the lawn mower to chase them out of the house.

And Dean feels grumpy about this for exactly twelve seconds, already on the verge of starting an argument with the whole fucking kitchen, but when Castiel links their fingers and suggests a move to the bedroom, his smile so shy it makes Dean's insides clench, he immediately agrees with a wide grin and starts to drag Castiel towards the direction before his boyfriend is even able to take the last gulp of his coffee.

And eventually – after a lot of bumping into stuff, shoving each other at walls and doors, pressing their bodies flush together and exchanging kisses so deep and frantic even the painting of the 19th century dude in the hallway, who always tell the dirtiest jokes, can't help his blush – they reach their destination.

And they both decide concordantly to not leave their bedroom again for the rest of the day.

*  *  *  *  *

Dean keeps himself from making some sort of emotional scene the next morning.

Instead he packs some lunch, kisses him goodbye all soft and unhurried and wishes him a nice trip. Like a fully functioning adult.

And then the torture starts.

Admittedly, the first day isn't so bad, mainly because there is so much to do at work that he barely has time to miss Castiel that much. Sure, of course he notices, especially when Castiel calls him during his break to tell him about their flight and the hotel they will be staying for the remainder of the time, sounding so endearingly excited, or when he lies in bed that night, the place right next to him so frustratingly empty and cold. But he tells himself over and over that he's a big boy and perfectly able to manage a few days by himself.

And it's seriously not like he's alone by any chance.

Douglas uses Castiel's absence as an opportunity to occupy Castiel's side of the bed, plastering his small body all over the sheets, and Dean doesn't have the energy to call him out on it. Hell, it's even kinda nice to have someone to share it with, even if that someone is little and furry and generally an annoying piece of shit. Douglas even finds some nice words about Dean's taste in mattresses in the depths of his black, ugly soul and that's honestly an occasion Dean will mark in his calendar.

In the meantime, the coffeemaker is eager to try new creations, experimenting like a junkie under the influence of some very hard drugs, transforming every new cup into a exciting adventure. Sadly most of the time it's a non-consumable disaster and Dean wonders whether Castiel barred these kinds of coffee nightmares before at some point in the past with a strong hand.

Also the toaster decides to fall back into some sort of pubescent phase and refuses to give Dean anything else but burned bread. Black and the farthest thing from edible. Every single time. Like a cat which is pissed that its owner left it by itself and shits onto the floor at every opportunity to show its displeasure.

Even the armchair is crankier than usual, probably missing Castiel, but being way too cool to admit that. Instead he focuses on finding the most creative insults for Dean, supported by several other family members who quickly seem to declare it into some kind of sport. And Dean contemplates being offended by it, but some of the defamations are surprisingly genius and he can't help feeling like a proud dad.

Yes, his life is quite insane.

Living in a house full of furniture that has more life than a goddamned flea circus, with so many different personalities and quirks that it's sometimes hard to keep track.

But one thing they all have in common: They miss Castiel like crazy.

And indeed, that's without any doubt the worst torture.

*  *  *  *  *

“So, when is Cas coming back?”

Sam leans back on the couch, taking a sip of the beer Dean pressed into his hand a few minutes ago, and looks as comfortable as they can get. From the very first time he had been absolutely fascinated with Castiel's skills and considered his place with the talking furniture and paw-licking cats as the most awesome thing that ever happened to him. Every time he comes over he finds something new to geek over, his big eyes gleaming raptly.

Right now he's staring at the wall clock which decided to screw time and switch back and forwards, while laughing like a maniac serial killer.

Quite disconcerting, but not the weirdest thing that happened today.

Because the vacuum cleaner, that tried to use the shower just an hour ago, claiming that it felt “filthy and dusty”, and nearly fried his electrical inner life in the process, had definitely been stranger.

“Cas is coming back tomorrow evening,” Dean says, sighing. He can't wait to have his boyfriend back in his arms.

He's been so much surlier than usual and became a menace for the people around him in no time at all. He can't sleep without Castiel by his side, the house is getting madder every single day and the lack of any decent coffee or toast is nagging at his nerves.

Yes, it's about freaking time for Castiel to come back!

From Dean's point of view he shouldn't have left in the first place.

“I wanted to pick him up from the airport,” he continues, “but he insisted on taking a taxi because parking is apparently a bitch there.”

Sam nods in understanding. “And? Do you have anything planned?”

Dean arches an eyebrow. “Planned?”

“Yeah. I dunno, a surprise or something.”

Dean smirks. “You mean, like greeting him at the door – naked?”

Sam rolls his eyes exasperatedly. “No, jerk! I was thinking of something romantic.” He fold his gigantic legs underneath his body. “I mean, your one year anniversary is coming right up, isn't it?”

Dean smiles softly. He can't really believe it's been a year since Castiel's magic was acting up like crazy, pushing them together, resulting in them kissing for the very first time.

“Yeah, our anniversary is tomorrow actually,” Dean admits, suddenly feeling a bit shy about it. He's normally not the guy who cares about dates and that stuff, so it means a lot that he can remember their anniversary without much trouble.

In the meantime, Sam started to grin widely. “That's really perfect timing! Did you two have anything in mind?”

Dean shrugs. “We haven't exactly talked about it. Especially with the field trip and everything.”

Yeah, Dean thought about it. A lot actually. But since Castiel never brought it up he couldn't make himself to do so either. In the end it isn't what matters anyway.

“Then you should seriously surprise him, “Sam suggests, seemingly quite excited now. “Take him out to a nice place or something.”

Dean instantly shakes his head. “You think Cas is up for that after spending the hours before with some teenagers in a plane? I honestly doubt that.”

Sam tilts his head. “Yeah, I guess you're right,” he confesses. “Then perhaps a nice foot massage or …”

Dean finds himself suddenly with a lap-full of Douglas, startling him so much he nearly drops his beer onto the couch (and probably wouldn't have heard the end of it by the armchair who still hadn't forgiven him for spilling some fluids on him once a long time ago).

The familiar, however, doesn't look impressed in the slightest while placing his butt onto Dean's thighs and using his claws way more than Dean would have liked.

“Maybe you should do the exact lame stuff you did when you two idiots confessed your undying love for each other the first time,” Douglas says. “Castiel seemed to like it.”

“We didn't confess –” Dean starts, but instantly stops himself when he remembers that, yeah, there had been words like 'love' been involved back then. So he instead decides to mull Douglas' suggestion over in his head and can't help nodding in agreement. “It's actually not a bad idea.”

It hadn't been much, just Dean making his special burgers and them watching “Raiders of the Lost Ark” together, but it had been one of the best nights of Dean's life. And it's true, they don't need grand gestures or whatever, their lives are exciting enough as they are, so a nice meal and an awesome movie are probably the right remedy for surviving a field trip with a bunch of pubescent juveniles.

“I'm here to serve,” Douglas says, grinning like the chesire cat. “And you may be a freaking pain in my ass, but Castiel is happier with you around, so I'm able to condone your presence.”

Dean grins. He thinks that might be the nicest thing the cat ever said to him.

“I love you too, Dougie!”

*  *  *  *  *

Well, Douglas doesn't like nicknames.

And Dean totally forgot about the claws near his crotch.

Damn!

*  *  *  *  *

Castiel arrives at home about an hour later than expected due to traffic and Dean tries his best – and fails miserably –  not to curse each and every deity he can think of.

But as soon as Castiel steps over the threshold and spreads his mouth into a beaming smile, asking happily, "You're making burgers?" after noticing the distinctive smell, Dean totally forgets to be mad and finds himself in his boyfriend's arms just a split second later. Castiel chuckles amused at Dean's enthusiasm and gladly complies when the Winchester leans in and connects their lips.

Dean's heart jumps, feeling the familiar and yet still so exciting touch, and all the tension of the last days drains away as if it never existed.

Castiel is seriously magic!

“I missed you,” Dean whispers, their lips only a breath apart.

Castiel's expression softens as he rubs his thumb over Dean's cheekbone. “I missed you too,” he says. “So much.”

Dean surges forward once more and soon seconds and minutes pass without them moving from their spot. They keep kissing and caressing and touching, only focused on each other. The apocalypse could have happened around them and they wouldn't have cared in the slightest.

However, eventually Castiel pulls back a bit. “The burgers?”

“Don't worry, they won't burn,” Dean promises. “The pan said it would hop off the fire before that would happen.” And only in an household like theirs such a sentence actually makes sense and doesn't sounds like utter madness. “Come on, the rest of our weird little family missed you too.”

Dean grabs Castiel's bag and pulls him towards the living room where the witch is greeted by a chorus of “Welcome back”'s and “Did you bring us anything?”'s. The TV shows every reunion scene Hollywood ever invented in high speed, obviously very eager to show his affection this way, while the coat rack sneaks up from behind and takes Castiel's trench coat, stating, “I missed that ratty piece of cloth,” in a thick Russian accent.

Castiel looks like the happiest guy alive, reveling in the huge attention, and Dean can't help pressing a kiss onto his temple before walking into the adjacent kitchen and preparing their dinner. His movement are purely automatic as he stacks their burgers and simultaneously praises the pan for looking out for their food so diligently, making the little thing preen so much Dean can almost see its proud grin although it's got no freaking face to begin with.

Shit, his life is very weird.

“We're watching 'Indiana Jones'?” Castiel suddenly asks, holding the DVD, which Dean laid out beforehand, into the air.

Dean nods, but immediately adds, “I mean, if you wanna, of course.”

“I like this movie.” Castiel sounds a bit distracted now, probably confused by the familiarity of the situation. His face is doing some very complicated twitches, apparently indicating that he's busy connecting the dots, and his eyes switch back and forth between the food and the DVD in his hands.

And Dean's able to see the exact moment the witch gets it.

“It's like our first night together, right?” Castiel realizes, his beautiful eyes glinting in a way that's clearly supernatural. “After we ...” He makes a vague motion with his hand, blushing all of sudden, and Dean can't help his grin.

“You mean, after we picked up that your magic was playing matchmaker and we ended up making out the whole night like teenagers?” Dean smirks, enjoying the quite vivid memory. “I've gotta be honest, Cas, I don't't remember much of the movie from that evening.”

Castiel laughs, his cheeks still adorably tinged. “Me neither,” he agrees. “So I'm looking forward to seeing it again.”

Instantly Dean sidles up to Castiel while he's preoccupied with studying the DVD case and breaths rights into his ear, “I can't promise you will see much of that movie this time either. I mean, I really missed you.”

Castiel's whole body shudders at these words, obviously not at all put off by them.

And it sounds quite tempting, skipping dinner and everything else and dragging Castiel to their bedroom to have his wicked way with him, but he swore himself to be romantic for a change. So instead of delving into a hot and deep kiss that would have definitely led to something more, his lips lightly graze Castiel's cheek as he whispers, “C'mon, let's eat.”

Castiel, however, is still staring at the DVD. “You did this because of our anniversary, right?”

“Yeah, I mean ...” Dean shrugs and tries for nonchalant. “We didn't really talk about it, with you being so busy with the field trip and all. And that's totally okay, I get it,” he hastily adds when he sees Castiel's expression change into something guilty. “It's not like I'm so crazy about dates and anniversaries either. There are much more important things.”

“But ...”

“Look, Cas, I'd have done something nice for you one way or another,” Dean clarifies. “You spent four days in New York, that stupid city that never sleeps, with a pack of loud children and I can imagine that being super stressful. So I thought you would appreciate a quiet evening at home.” He bites his bottom lip. “Sammy and Douglas helped with some suggestions, by the way.”

“I sure did,” the cat grumbles from the couch.

Castiel casts him a grateful look before fixing his eyes back to Dean. “You are so sweet.”

“It's really nothing –”

“So thoughtful.”

“Cas –”

“And I lied to you.”

Dean freezes and stares at his boyfriend for a moment, not sure if he heard these words correctly.

“Um ... what?” he asks, bewildered.

Castiel lowers his head, looking guilty as hell all of a sudden. “There was no field trip.”

Dean has seriously no idea what to do with that information. He finds himself stepping back a bit, making sure to have a proper view on Castiel's face, and demands to know, “What are you talking about?”

Castiel is most likely the most honest guy Dean ever met and the Winchester actually thought that he was incapable of telling even a teeny-weeny lie without revealing himself promptly. Hell, the last time he made an attempt-- at Sam's birthday party when he took a bite of the cake and tried to assure everyone within hearing range that it was rather delicious -- he stammered and flushed so hard no one believed him even for a second.

And Dean fell a little bit more in love with his awkward weirdo.

But now ... Dean doesn't know what to say.

“There was no field trip?” Douglas chimes in, sounding as surprised as Dean, and Dean can't help feeling somehow better because of this. At least he's not the only one who had no clue.

Castiel shakes his head. “No,” he confesses. “I considered telling you the truth, or at least a variation of it, but it would have raised too many questions. So I made up the field trip story.”

The lie.

“But ... why?” Douglas asks, obviously verging on anger territory. “Where the hell have you been the last four days?”

A very good question.

“I'd been in New York, just like I said,” Castiel emphasizes. “I just wasn't truthful about the reason.”

And yeah, thinking about it now, Castiel was eager to gush over the city, the sights and the people, never shutting up once, but as soon as Dean tried to get some information about the kids, that (allegedly) had accompanied Castiel on the trip, the witch just mumbled a few words and quickly changed the subject. Dean didn't exactly notice back then, way too happy to have at least some sort of contact with Castiel beyond a few short text messages, so he didn't even once think about questioning it.

There had been no reason for him to be suspicious.

Well, at least he thought so.

“Then what did you do in New York?” Dean asks.

Castiel meets his eyes, apparently not intimidated by Dean's tone. “I met the leaders of my coven,” he explains.

And yeah … Dean didn't expect that.

Castiel doesn't talk very often about his coven, mainly because it isn't such a huge part of his life. Or in any witch's life really. Coven used to be big and powerful, similar to the Mob, one of the greatest forces in the supernatural world … But nowadays they're mostly just old relicts. A bunch of witches with a casual connection who meet up a couple of times a year to swap their experiences and stories before going back to their ordinary lives. And granted, there are still some ancient rituals which they're valuing quite highly and are still fundamental pieces of their culture and history, but it's nothing like it had been in the past.

So yes, Castiel might have vanished for a day to meet some members of his coven now and then, however, never once did he feel the urge to lie about it.

“I needed to speak with them,” Castiel continues after noticing that Dean isn't happy with the meager explanation. “Rather urgently, actually.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “And that took four days?”

Castiel shakes his head immediately. “It actually took more like ten minutes,” he corrects. “But there are living a lot of members of my coven in New York and it would have been rather rude of me not to show my respect and make some visits. So I decided that four days would be a adequate time frame.”

Dean lifts a brow. “And the school just let you take some days off?”

“When I told them about my plans, yes,” Castiel says. “They are very serious about honoring supernatural traditions.”

Dean feels a headache coming his way. That's not the way he expected this evening to go.

“Okay, just – just tell me what the fuck was so important that you had to speak with your big bosses in New York?” Dean demands.

Castiel steps closer again and though Dean wants to keep some distance between them, all confused and irritated, his traitorous body didn't get the memo. He finds himself with Castiel stroking his lower arm and enjoying it way too much despite the current situation.

“It's a very old tradition,” Castiel declares. “Technically outdated nowadays, but I still wanted to do everything right, so nobody would be able to complain afterwards. And that's why I went to our leaders and asked for permission.”

Dean doesn't feel particularly smarter now, but he notices Douglas snapping to attention immediately.

“Oh,” the cat says, eyes wide, as realization seemingly hits him.

“OH!” the rest of the household gasps in unison.

“Oh shit!” the armchair groans.

And Dean just blinks.

Apparently he's missing something majorly.

In the meantime, Castiel interlaced their fingers, smiling so softly that Dean seriously doubts he would be capable of staying mad for longer, even if Castiel would drop their conversation just like that, leaving Dean utterly clueless.

“I am so sorry for lying to you,” Castiel states, sounding absolutely sincere. “It felt so horrible, you have no idea. But I couldn't tell you the truth. You would have asked questions, as you have every right to do, and I wouldn't have known what to say. Furthermore, my stupid familiar,” he shoots the cat a dark look, “would have figured it out eventually and you know what a blabbermouth he is. He wouldn't have been able to keep silent.”

“Hey!” Douglas complains.

“Or the mixer would have figured it out,” Castiel goes on. “Or the hose. Or whoever. Nobody in this house can keep a secret!”

“Hey!” the rest of their little family yells unhappily.

Castiel chooses to ignore them. “I couldn't risk them telling you. It felt so awful lying to you, but it would have been worse if you learned about it beforehand. It's supposed to be a surprise after all.”

Dean starts to squirm impatiently. “Dammit, Cas, just tell me already!” he urges. “What is up with your traditions and your leaders?”

Castiel leans closer, their faces merely inches apart, and whispers, “Since the beginning of time it is tradition among witches to ask the leaders of their coven for permission before marrying a human.”

For Dean it feels like time itself suddenly stopped.

He can't do anything else but stare.

And stare.

And keep staring.

“Marry?” he eventually croaks, his voice so unlike normal that he'd been embarrassed if he wouldn't have been so busy being shocked.

Castiel's smile only grows, apparently pleased with Dean's shell-shock reaction. “I actually intended to wait for a more private moment to tell you about it,” he confesses, shooting some pointed glares at his vicinity. “But I have to admit that I didn't think it through. I should have guessed that you would like to talk about the field trip and that I wouldn't be able to lie to you anymore and blurt it out right into your face. And usually I would have prepared everything perfectly and picked the right moment, especially with lesser audience, but I was so nervous and excited to ask our leaders and then on my way back from the airport I stopped at your father's place and then I totally forgot to make some plans –”

“Wait, you went to see my dad?!” Dean interrupts, his jaw slack. “But … why??”

Castiel squints his eyes and looks endearingly puzzled all of a sudden. “Is it not a human tradition to ask the father of your beloved for permission?”

Dean doesn't know whether he wants to laugh or cry.

“What … what did he say?” Because Dean has honestly no idea how John might have reacted to that. His dad has always been a bit reserved around Castiel, obviously not exactly sure what to make of the man his son chose to date.

“He said, 'Son, you may be the weirdest guy I've ever met',” Castiel narrates, imitating John's voice disturbingly accurate, “'but even a blind man can see that Dean is head-over-heels crazy about you and that's all that matters to me.'”

Wow.

That's a lot to take in.

Dean lets his gaze rover over the room, suddenly noticing that freaking everyone is staring at them, one way or another. Douglas seems as though he's not certain if he wants to puke or celebrate, the orchids are sighing dreamingly, the TV switched over to showing Hollywood's greatest proposal scenes, the armchair keeps grouching underneath his breath like the end of the world is upon them and the vacuum cleaner uses the opportunity to sneak into the direction of the shower again.

Goddammit all to hell!

Dean's life seriously is completely crazy!

And he still doesn't want it any other way.

Suddenly he feels Castiel pushing something small and cold onto the palm of his hand and his heart grows several sizes when he sees the simple, yet so beautiful and meaningful silver ring.

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel says, his voice heavy. “I was fascinated by you the very first time you came over, a freshly baked pie in your hands and the most stunning smile on your lips. From this day on I fell quicker and harder than I ever thought possible and the moment I realized that my feelings were reciprocated is still one of the best in my life! I can't imagine my existence without you.”

And then the sonofabitch honestly does the move, dropping to one knee, and Dean's breath catches somewhere in his throat.

“Will you marry me, Dean?”

Castiel's voice breaks at the end and that's what finally jerks Dean awake. He joins Castiel on the floor, whispers, “Hell, yes!” before pressing their lips together in a deep and sensual kiss.

All his nerve endings are sizzling and cracking, making the weight of the ring in his hand even more prominent, and it's without any doubt the best feeling in the world.

He never felt so whole before.

And he can't help smiling into the kiss when he hears the armchair groan, “Oh God, the next days will be unbearably sappy!” and the toaster correct him, “No, mate, the next decades will be unbearably sappy!”

Yeah, Dean guesses they will be.