#certain phrasings made something ping for me

[liu-anhuaming]

all my mandarin dictionaries (and dictionary-adjacent books)

Through chatting with @don-dake and @cherrymintvampyyri, I've come to realize that I might own a less than normal number of Mandarin dictionaries. So, here's a post about all of them.

I do have two basic bilingual dictionaries (Mandarin/English): the Langenscheidt pocket dictionary and the DK visual dictionary. These are quite easy to buy and not that interesting imo, so I'm not gonna talk further about them.

I'm also going to include a couple books that aren't technically dictionaries, but are rather about etymology of characters, and that's close enough to count for me.

Okay, let's get on to the interesting stuff!

1. What Character is That? An Easy-Access Dictionary of 5,000 Chinese Characters by Ping-gam Go (second edition, 1995)

bilingual

This strange little dictionary was gifted to me by a nun who went to high school with my grandma and later lived in China as a missionary. It's organized alphabetically based on the English translation of each radical?

I have not used this dictionary for actual reference ever, because I flipped through it once and realized that it was absolutely whack. But it's cool to have I guess.

2. 新华字典 第11版

monolingual

This little guy was gifted to me by a Chinese classmate back when I was in college. It's a 字典, so it's just focused on defining individual characters and providing some words featuring that character. Despite being a mainland dictionary, it also has 注音 next to each character for some reason.

It's got some neat stuff towards the back, like the periodic table and a chart of all the 節氣 solar terms.

3. 小学生全笔顺 同义词 近义词 反义词 组词 造句 成语 多音多义字 词典

monolingual

Whew, that's a mouthful. This is an actual 词典, so it defines full words. It also provides example sentences, synonyms, antonyms, and close equivalents. Then there's a section for idioms, and another section for 多音多义字.

There's also this nifty little insert with examples of words/phrases that follow common patterns of repetition.

4. 新现代汉语词典

monolingual

I picked up this chunky guy from a used bookstore down the street from me (the owner of the store passed last year, and the store is no longer there unfortunately). This is a fairly normal dictionary, it's just bigger than my others and has more words listed in it.

One thing I also noticed is that this chart towards the end of the dictionary apparently had a strip of paper pasted on the bottom. It doesn't seem like something I can peel up without damaging the paper under it, and when I shine a flashlight through the page I can't make out any major differences between what's on the sticker and what might be on the page under it. So my best guess is there might have been some damage to the text on the page?

5. 商务馆学汉语近义词词典 The Commercial Press Guide to Chinese Synonyms

monolingual

This book is easily the one I reference the most. As the name suggests, the book is all about synonyms. It takes sets of 2+ similar words and thoroughly explains the similarities and differences between them all. There's plenty example sentences, with notes about whether the synonyms can be used interchangeably in certain contexts.

It's a great resource, but I had a bit of trouble getting my hands on a copy. It's possible that in the years since I bought it there have been more copies made available for sale though.

these next two are books I haven't explored too much since they are old and the binding is incredibly fragile and starting to fall apart. just opening them is stressful.

6. 漢字分解 Chinese Characters Explained by F.X. Keelan (aka 康愛玲修女) (1967?)

bilingual

This book was also gifted to me by the nun who went to school with my grandma, and appears to also have been written by a nun! Based on what I've found from Google, this book was published in 1967.

Rather than a dictionary, this book is "a compilation intended as an aid in grouping and remembering [Chinese characters] with a view in acquiring a reading knowledge of Chinese"(p. iii). It aims to break down characters into radicals and giving similar/related characters. It's apparently the final installment in a 4 part Mandarin Course.

This book uses traditional characters. According to Google Books, the publisher is 光啓出版社, which is a Taiwanese organization. The book includes a very long table that has Mandarin, Cantonese, Taiwanese, Hakka, Japanese, and Korean pronunciations for (what seems to be) every character mentioned in the book. The intro mentions that this is so the course is more "accessible" for speakers of other East Asian languages.

Also, look at that printing error in the third photo! The text got cut off at the bottom of the page.

7. The Structure of Chinese Characters by John Chalmers (second edition, 1911)

bilingual

This final book is the oldest of the bunch, and was gifted to me by my boss's boss for some reason? She found it in a used bookstore apparently.

This book also uses traditional characters, because simplified characters just weren't a thing yet in 1911. This book is falling apart, and opening it stresses me out. It creaks whenever I open it.

Going by the title page, the full title of this book is An Account of the Structure of Chinese Characters Under 300 Primary Forms; After the Shwo-Wan, 100 A.D., and the Phonetic Shwoh-Wan, 1833. It was published by Kelly & Walsh, which was a Shanghai-based publisher.

Someone very kindly penciled in the years the author was alive: 1825-1899. John Chalmers was apparently a Scottish missionary (bc of course he was) who apparently popularized the term "Cantonese". This book that I own in particular was originally published in 1882.

It is, as the very long title suggests, an analysis and etymology of 300 common components

It also has a nifty fold-out of all 300 "primary forms" in seal script.

[fierceawakening]

I just read a post on Pratchett that explained what someone loved in a really moving way that I think accidentally shed light on what doesn’t work for me.

In the post, they were saying that as a teen they became cynical and started to see human nature as fundamentally bad. Were gross, were ugly, were mean, what’s the point, etc? And they read Guards! Guards! and found it revelatory, because it agreed “you’re absolutely correct, people suck! But help them anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.”

And that was a revelation for them.

Which is awesome.

But it’s a revelation that needs to be phrased in a certain way to work for me.

For me “we’re not good, but we should be good anyway,” doesn’t quite add up, even if you tack on “that’s what makes us good” at the end. Because if our fundamental nature is non good, then there’s no hope. All we can be is what we are, even if we defy it sometimes.

So I landed at “we’re neither good nor bad. We can become good, or we can become bad. We do this by existing in the world and watching what’s around us and deciding what we value. Those of us who are good are people who choose good values (this is very broad and varies person to person. I’m just closing the door on “so is a sincere Nazi a good person?” His sincerity might be admirable, not being wishy washy takes strength, but no, he’s unfortunately a bad person, as he devotes himself deeply to corrupt things) and act on those values even when it might be difficult.

So I’m not “seeing that people are bad but helping them anyway.” I’m thinking people aren’t actually anything, and thus they never lose the potential to become good, and that’s why I’m helping. To show someone it’s worth it to become good. Not because I’m inherently good, but because I’m inherently the same. I’m trying my best to do the same work.

“People are bad but so what?” is uplifting for some! But it doesn’t work for me, as I just go “people are bad? Then there’s no point, time to lay down and rot.”

I think I have similar issues with that famous quote from Death a lot of people love, where he says justice and mercy are “big lies” that we need to survive, so we use stories to teach them to ourselves.

I get the point, that we need stories to learn the virtues. I agree!

But framing them as lies pings my head in the same way. If it’s a lie, that means we’ll never get it right.

And there’s a certain sense in which that’s true. Every trial is a bunch of flawed people guessing what they didn’t see. Every law is a bunch of flawed people trying and failing to think of every contingency. None of that can be Justice.

But again, PERSONALLY my brain doesn’t quite vibe with answering this conundrum with “Justice is a pretty lie.”

My brain wants “Justice is a thing we do, a skill we practice. There is no perfection, but every time we do something big like abolish slavery or give women the right to vote, we’re doing Justice. There’s Justice in the choice we made. That makes it real, and not a lie. Calling it a lie would be ‘no, it wasn’t just to free the slaves. It was kinda good, but we’re not just, because we can’t get it all right in one fell swoop.’”

Stories are fictional and they teach us important things. But it’s not their being fictional that makes them special. It’s that reading a story is like practicing doing justice, or mercy, or whatever virtue. It’s play that helps us learn by experience what the virtues are.

Like a kitten pouncing to learn how to hunt, but we’re doing it to learn to be good.

And what we learn IS Goodness. It’s not perfection, no, but no one looks at a rock and goes “there is one true rock shape and this isn’t quite it. It’s only rockish.” People have known that doesn’t work since Plato proposed it, my guy.

We learn what the good is by looking at instances of it. (Or by looking at instances of the bad and rejecting them, that works too.)

Some of those instances are stories, from which it follows that we need stories.

No need to wonder if goodness is real.

[mariaofdoranelle]

An Axe to Grind

Happy birthday, @leiawritesstories! I hope it’s still the 28th in your time zone when you find this lol. And I also hope you’re having a great day, may all your birthday wishes and fic ideas come true ❤️💗💕💚 I kinda noticed a workplace pattern in your writing, so I wrote this little something. She’s an architect. He’s an engineer. They fight because they’re angsty and horny. I hope you like it!!

Warnings: only language I think?

Word count: 713

(ﾉ｀◎´)ﾉミρ┳┷┳ ミ＼(≧ﾛ≦＼)

Rowan had just spent six minutes of his life debating if he should ask Aelin Galathynius if she was feeling better or not.

To sum up his thoughts, it didn’t matter that his fingers would sometimes hover over his chat with Aelin since she told him, two days ago, she wouldn’t come to work because she was sick. Checking up was something friends did, and they definitely weren’t friends. On the other hand, they had been working together for over a year now, this certainly allowed him to ask four-word questions. If he cared. Which he didn’t.

Anyway, Rowan let out a relieved sigh when he saw Aelin enter the construction field late afternoon, but they didn’t speak to each other. Now it had been six minutes since the other workers went away, and he had to—

“Whitethorn!”

Aelin’s screech made him run towards her voice without hesitation, almost certain she somehow got injured. However, Aelin was perfectly fine when he got there. Physically. The way she was glaring at the unfinished column said otherwise.

“What. The fuck. Is this?” she spoke in a carefully controlled tone, but the rise and fall of her chest and murderous eyes revealed all her voice concealed.

Rowan blinked. “A column.”

“No, it isn’t.” Aelin moved closer, releasing an incredulous laugh. “This.” She pointed at the bunch of steel again. “Is my open floor plan. Requested by our client.”

He looked up and sighed. “Our client asked for professional help for a reason. He doesn’t know how to hold a place together, which is my job, or make it pretty enough for his standards, which is your job.” He reminded her in the most polite way he could, trying not to piss her off more. “Do you get where I’m going?”

Despite his best efforts to keep things civilized, Aelin’s face was near crimson when she gaped at him. “If you at least tried to take me seriously, you’d know this—” If Rowan had a shot every time she pointed at the column, he’d be in the hospital by now. “Is where Mr. Moonbeam’s ping-pong table is supposed to be, one of the essential items in his home.”

Little did she know Rowan did value her as a professional. It was very hard not to when she was the most requested architect from the building firm they worked in. Who he didn’t take seriously was his friend Fenrys, specially the nightmarish requests he made.

“I have a question.”

“What?” she snapped.

“When the ceiling falls over his head, is mixing all floors together part of your open floor plan?” This is exactly why Rowan shouldn’t give in to his urges to be civil with Aelin. They always ended up shouting at each other.

Creeping even closer, Aelin said, “Nothing will fall over no one’s head, because you—“ She stabbed Rowan’s chest with her little index finger. “Was breathing behind my neck the whole time and you—“ She poked him harder this time. “Wouldn’t even have approved the plan without the column if it was important.” They were staring into each other’s eyes, panting with mingling breaths when she continued, “I know you don’t like me, and you know this project is important to me. Are you trying to fuck with me?”

Rowan couldn’t think about nothing besides her last phrase and her lips inches from his and their bodies too close and fuck and me.

“I might.”

She blinked, still hazy. “What?”

Without thinking further, he grabbed Aelin’s face and their lips finally met. Rowan’s heart was hammering inside his chest as he realized she was unresponsive, but it only got worse when she held the back of his neck and kissed him back. Aelin soon let his tongue slide in, his light-headed state could only make sense of soft hair, lavender scent and Aelin.

Trying to steady themselves, they stumbled through the field a little until Aelin’s back hit that gods-damned column. With very little room in his head to think, Rowan just pressed his body against her and started trailing shameless kisses down her neck. When he almost lost his mind by her soft whimper, Rowan knew there was no going back now.

Shit.

He was in such deep, unending shit.

TAG LIST

@autumnbabylon

@courtofjurdan

@elentiyawhitethorn

@leiawritesstories

@rowanaelinn

@thegreyj

[super-ion]

Lisa's Story

Part 5

Context: in the latest session of Outside Us Nothing, we wrapped up a story arc where my character, Lisa, was reunited with her long lost sibling. Through the power of love and friendship and murder, we somehow managed to save Gwen from a cult of tentacle monsters.

Jo squinted at the game board. They thought they saw a clear path to victory, but they had thought the same in the previous game of go, and the one before that, and the hundred before that. Sierra was just too good at this, but Jo had never been able to back down from a challenge.

Sierra, for their part, was staring unblinking at the board in that distant, unblinking, not-quite-there way that they looked at everything. They had their head tilted, listening to some inaudible melody, foot tapping along arhythmically.

Jo barely even liked this game, and they hated losing, but the fact was Jo was bored. It was the sad truth that self described hotshot pilot, Josephine Casseopia Bergan della Briar Rose, was stuck doing milk runs.

Meanwhile, their sister, if she was to be believed, was off living out episodes of some Freetraveler fantasy dreams. For that matter, Lisa wasn't particularly prone to exaggeration, which made her stories all the more aggravating.

Jo sighed, carefully picked up a black stone and placed it on the board. Sierra's lips quirked in a tiny smile and Jo groaned inwardly, knowing the trap was about to be sprung.

The voidworker picked up a white stone, but froze, blinking in surprise an instant before the intercom pinged.

"Hey babe," ZX736 said over the intercom. "Long range comm for you."

Oh thank the gods, Jo wouldn't have to deal with the humiliation of losing again.

"It's your sister," Z added. "Says it's urgent."

Jo paused. They were siblings, all manner of practical joke passed between them. Phrases like "very important", "deadly serious", and "critical danger" weren't at all uncommon. "Urgent" however was one they had agreed to keep in reserve. It was off limits except in situations that were, in fact, urgent.

"Yeah, I'll be there in one sec," Jo replied, "thanks love."

"Should I save the board?" Sierra interjected. The voidworker had set the stone and Jo could see the beginnings of the end.

Jo sighed, "don't bother…"

They shifted their attention away from the common area into the cockpit, where the mass of Jo had completely engulfed every surface, eyes and tentacles everywhere. It was Jo's space, their domain, closed to all except them and their wife.

"She on?" Jo asked.

"Yeah," Z replied. "She's rambling a little about… honey… I think? Whatever she wants to say might be private. I'll be right outside if you need me."

The long range comm crackled and Lisa's voice, distant and tinny, came through.

"Jo?"

She sounded like she'd been crying. Oh, this can't be good.

"Hey sis, Z said it was urgent. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lisa replied. "I mean no, not really, my girlfriend just had to go away for some indeterminate amount of time and I've just been an accessory to another war crime… but this is good news, I swear."

This raised so many questions and Jo was certain Lisa would be more than happy to elaborate, but something about her tone seemed almost cagey.

"Yes?" Jo prompted after a moment of silence that stretched uncomfortably.

"Well, um… the thing is…"

"Oh my god, dude, spit it out," Jo grumbled.

"Gwen is alive!" Lisa blurted. "I found them and we got in a fight and I thought I ruined everything but I went back and… oh gods, I thought I got them killed, but my friend saved them and…"

Lisa's words faded to incoherent sobbing.

Jo struggled to comprehend.

"Wait, back up," Jo interrupted. "You found Gwen?"

A welter of guilt surged in Jo's core. Jo was the reason Gwen had run away in the first place. To be fair, Lisa hadn't been perfect either and deserved… maybe thirty percent of the credit, but Jo had been the one to drive both of them off the ship.

"Jo," Lisa repeated, "Gwen is alive and they are on my ship right now and I'm bringing them home."

[thedreadvampy]

Re last post to expand on that tag tangent a bit like

I am really very definitely connected to my Quakerism. and before I considered myself a Christian (which only really happened like 5 or 6 years ago) I understood myself as culturally Quaker, the same way many of my atheist friends are culturally Catholic, bc Quakerism for all its vagarities is a very. specific cultural space imo.

like there are extremely specific ways Quakers tend to approach social and philosophical issues. there are specific framings of ideas. although there aren't Holy Artefacts there are important items we might use as signifiers of Quaker identity - the little red book (Advices and Queries), the big red book (Quaker Faith and Practice), the Quaker Tapestry (which is a big Victorian project of embroidered scenes and homilies from Quaker history and thought, the most commonly seen of which is this little sequence of two donkeys pulling against each other and then walking off in the same direction, and which is often reproduced in homes and meeting houses), candles, white poppies, etc.

there's turns of phrase we throw out often that feel extremely clear in the community and don't necessarily connect with people who haven't heard them - "let your ayes be ayes and your nays be nays," "be still and silent in thy own mind," "moved by the spirit of the meeting," "hold someone in the Light," "discerning the right path" - and I do think those speak to a very specific way of approaching certain ideas. but there's also a lot of stuff that's like. so micro I can't necessarily identify it but like, modes of speech or behaviour that immediately ping someone as Quaker for me, even in different cultural contexts (like in Germany or in Japan).

(not all stuff that's explicitly in line with Quaker beliefs either btw. there's a lot of very specific tactics of conflict avoidance I notice idiosyncratic to Quaker communities which I have deep beef with bc I think conflict avoidance runs counter to a lot of the stuff that matters to me about Quaker thought which is like. peace is not the same as avoiding conflict. peace is not appeasement. peace requires honest communication in pursuit of justice.)

but yeah idk it's complicated bc obviously I'm speaking from within Quakerism and I don't have a lot of distance on this. but I think while I agreed with almost everything that post has to say about the American Evangelical void and its roots in opposition to ritualistic religions. idk I am also from a religion with deep roots in 17th century lay Protestantism. like our whole deal is being anti-dogmatic and rejecting a hierarchy of earthly things - we don't have holy items or holy days, even.

but I feel some kind of way about the conflation of 'not having concrete religious rituals and artefacts' with 'holding nothing sacred or important or 'not having your own identity'.

partially because like. the rejection of sacred artefact and ritual in Quakerism isn't meant to be about making something like the Bible or Easter Sunday less sacred as much as it's about elevating the sanctity of everything. like the same is true socially. when Quakers used to thee and thou kings and princes as if they were social equals, that isn't saying that those people aren't important - it's saying that I, a random person on the street calling the king 'thou', am just as important as him and should address him as an equal.

but also like. idk I'm overreacting to a point I'm not even sure was being made in the first place, but I am deeply intimately connected to my faith and its culture because to me I'm more authentically respecting and connecting with the beliefs without the veil of Formal Ritual. but I do recognise that there not being a Formal Ritual doesn't mean there's no ritual. we might not take communion but the service is incomplete without tea afterwards. we might not chant prayers but part of being a Quaker is joining in silence to pray independently. Our books, whether the Bible or the red books (which are iterative collections of notes, letters and advice from the national community from the last 400 years) aren't sacred objects but the contents have huge importance and, as ideas, are to be handled respectfully.

idk what I'm getting at I'm just wandering around this idea. and the thing is (and why I made my own post) is like I very much don't disagree with the actual post. any of it really. I just think it's complicated bc I think there's more ritual and culture to pin a religion on than only rituals and cultural elements that are explicitly sacred.

(and I think it's hard to balance analysing how The Christian Community acts against how individuals relate to their religion. like ultimately what matters on an individual level is whether you feel a strong and specific connection to your religion to the degree that you don't need to go looking for bits to add on our justify it. and that can happen in any faith with any amount of formal or informal structure and culture. but on a wider scale yeah there really is a void there)

(that's actually something that draws me to (my style of) Quakerism btw. it's maybe uhhhh a disorganised religion? like it's a religious community but bc it's intentionally focused on an individualised relationship to faith within a community it creates a lot of space for people to define their relationship to it on their own terms. which can be a welcoming place for people who are alienated from more formalist religious spaces. I think although it can be quite muddy there are 5 very clear and explicit core precepts and not a lot of hard rules beyond that.)

[yourstormthlaylirahh]

Heads up for not-very-complimentary opinions of certain offshoots of Christianity 

I’m trying to start reading like I used to by forming a habit, so I have a pile of easy middle grade books from my basement I remember really liking to reread to try form the habit (and then I can move onto new/challenging stuff but baby steps). I picked up this book called Of Mice and Magic, which I remember literally nothing about, but it has a mouse with a sword on the cover so should be fun right?

Wrong. I only made it 30 pages in before deciding to give it away. Within the first 5 pages my fundie-bullshit radar kept pinging. Nothing overtly religious yet, but referencing grand plans and talking about in-universe gods in terms that were making me go ‘yeah, that’s a stand in for the Christian god.’ I made it another ten ish pages when a villainous character said ‘praise Allah’ and went hold up, I’m gonna look up the author. 

Turns out to be a professor at BYU (disclaimer I know that doesn’t make someone a terrible person and there are lots of prog-mos and such, but still gave me pause) and published through a mormon publishing house. I just couldn’t do it. I’m not strong enough. I did try to look up whether the author paid tithes to try suss how strongly they had been involved in the church when alive but couldn’t find anything. There is definitely a chance I passed up reading a book I could have enjoyed if I could have ignored certain phrasings and such, but I don’t want to take a chance on it escalating. I have major, MAJOR issues with the Mormon church and Mormon doctrine. 

I wonder how many books I enjoyed or went over my head as a kid are going to have this effect as an adult. Also, before someone comes after me about ‘being able to read things you disagree with’ being a valuable skill: that is true, and something I practice doing, but not something I am going to bother with for a mediocre children’s fantasy novel I am purely reading for entertainment. There is a reason I will never reread the Narnia series despite fond childhood memories of them and let it live in my memory only. 

[thevikingwoman]

Gender identity crisis on a Monday afternoon? It’s more likely than you think.

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting one

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k

notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu​ ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺

There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students. 

Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.

Except this one.

Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…

Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.

It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.

Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.

The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.

You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.

So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.

Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.

In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.

He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.

And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.

The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.

You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates

Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.

Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.

You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.

Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.

Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.

Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.

Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.

He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.

A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”

You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4

Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?

As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.

Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”

His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.

By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.

“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”

Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.

Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.

Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.

Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.

“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”

And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.

Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.

“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.

“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.

He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.

“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”

“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.

Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.

With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.

Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[theyarebothgunshot]

I’d be very interested in your thoughts on the JIB8 cockles panel. just a suggestion for your rewatch 👀

i’ve seen the jib8 panel so many times, because it’s honestly one of the wildest things i have ever seen and i just never get tired of it. 

first of all i want to give you my take on the overall vibe, and then second of all i will get into the details and link to certain timestamps in the video. 

disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.

fun fact: i was today years old when i found out that the airbnb story took place one day before this panel. what a sexually charged weekend that was for them dude (gn).

the vibe that i get from this panel is that their moods were off before they got on stage, and where misha kind of looks tired and not 100% enthusiastic about things, jensen apparently decided to get drunk and is trying to make it look like he is thriving. yet, a little while into the panel we learn that it has been an emotional rollercoaster of a day for him, which might have something to do with the overall mood. then again, it could be that something else happened in between the autographs and that panel, who is to say?

i have talked about the d/s subtones in their interactions before and this panel makes my radar ping like nobody’s business. if my interpretation of their dynamics is right, then one could assume that jensen was being very bratty on purpose, trying to stir up a reaction in misha, and i think he probably got what he wanted (more or less. maybe he thought misha would find it more amusing than he did, or but honestly, at that point they have already known each other for nearly 10 years so odds are he knew what he was doing and how misha would react to it. it would surprise me greatly if these two didn’t work out their mutual frustrations with the day and each other after this panel ended- in the bedroom.)

i genuinely think i have never seen jensen flirt more openly and aggressively with misha, ever, and i have never seen misha in the state he was in during this panel either: tired, a little annoyed about the fact that jensen was going off the deep end and that he was not able to stop him, to the point where he just gives up and says things like ‘when in rome’ etc. let’s get into it. 

the mood is set from the very first second: misha is kinda subdued, and jensen is being a bit of a clown, coaxing misha to join him in the madness, which he does to a certain extent. 

we are off to a great start with not just one [0m15s], but two [0m20s] moments in which i just know in my bones they wanted to hold hands. how do i know? because i have been there my fucking self. wanting to hold hands with your crush when you are drunk and acting silly is a love language okay.

as soon as they sit down, misha tries to make conversation and jensen just starts pushing him and pushing him, [1m11s] saying ‘shut up’ and ‘yeah it’s really stupid and it embarrasses me’, but misha tries to ignore it at first and just marches on through. which is probably why i never see people talk about that little comment. it embarrasses jensen when misha sits like that? why would he need to feel embarrassed by his friend’s actions? kinda weird tbh, sounds like husband behavior to me. i have a feeling that when misha said ‘by which he means it’s an innie’, jensen REALLY had to bite on his tongue not to go all ‘you weren’t complaining this morning’ or something like that. look at his face bro [1m55s]. 

and then jensen opens up his legs like the little tramp (affectionate) that he is and when misha tries to stop him he just TURNS to misha with said open legs like a mad man and goes ‘here’s the thing. pick a leg.’ [2m05s] LIKE? who DOES THAT? that is insane people behavior!!! admittedly i am a cis woman and i don’t have conversations with male friends about their bodily anatomy all that often, but i legit cannot phatom that this is a normal thing to talk about with your platonic buddy. pick a leg for me to rest my dick on, old buddy old pal. NOBODY DOES THAT. it’s not even something that i would consider flirting because even though i am into men, i would not find that arousing? so it’s either an action to provoke annoyance in misha or it’s something they have discussed before or both. because misha immediately understands what he means, starts shaking his head in frustration, and actually turns to jensen as if to say ‘are you fucking kidding me right now? really? you are really doing this?’ followed by a ‘this is making me feel so uncomfortable’ aka one of the phrases they both like to use even though they never mean it. 

then when jensen actually goes up to do his ridiculous mating dance and sits back down again, he automatically sits down with his body turned towards misha. 

quick side note: if anybody understands what the joke was about when they talked about ‘cas has big dolls’ i would love to hear it, because that has never made any sense to me, but it’s probably a me problem lmao. 

when misha goes ‘could you watch your language please’ i think that’s a sign that he is genuinely getting a bit frustrated [4m53s] with jensen even though he is obviously playing it off as a joke. right after he says that, jensen puts his fingers against his mouth, as if to shut himself up. i know that a lot of people don’t wanna read too much into body language but hey, i am writing an analysis here so work with me for a sec: i think that could be a subconscious decision to listen to what misha is telling him to do, which ties into the d/s dynamics i’ve mentioned earlier. 

i know people always go crazy when misha goes ‘what did i tell him’ [5m19s] and jensen whispers in his ear. i personally think misha probably told him about the fact that they booked kansas the band, but it’s still pretty telling that that is how misha would react to the question if something he told him is public knowledge. evidently that goes to show that there is enough that misha tells jensen that cannot be shared with the public, which i thought is interesting. 

now that i am watching it again, the ‘j*red would have just said it’ comment kind of stumbles around in my brain asking me to dissect it. let’s just say that i wouldn’t be surprised if they were both thinking back on the many, many times that j*red put his foot in his mouth and made a suggestive comment about jensen and misha’s relationship. 

god i just cringed [6m14s] watching jensen interact with that first girl who asked a question and he just goes off on her about how twins are cool and misha is shaking his head lord oh lord and that is the minute daniella decides that hey maybe they need even more alcohol lmfaoooo it’s a lot. poor misha i genuinely feel bad for him.

and then he goes ‘real men have twins’ and looks at misha and misha is still not having it so he goes ‘it’s just a shirt’ like girl (gn) pleASE that’s husband behavior, yet again, why else would he feel the need to clarify it. ‘look babe don’t be mad or jealous i don’t mean anything by it, it’s just a shirt’ i hate him. 

i just know misha would have wanted to take the apple juice away from jensen lmao. 

one of the moments [9m35s] that always stands out to me is when they go ‘that’s why we don’t bring steven’ ‘that’s right, that’s why he’s not allowed’ idk how to explain it but the way that just flows out of them so naturally feels very coupley for some reason.

i think we can all agree that jensen’s reaction [12m22s] to misha’s ‘i always wear orange underwear’ story is completely fake, right? because there is no way he didn’t know that, and his reaction was very exaggerated. plus, the little gesture to make misha show his underwear? bitch, please. whipped. there was also exactly zero reason for him to come that close to misha in order to inspect the color of his underwear.

the one thing that i wonder about, though, is why misha didn’t know jensen was wearing the famous underbear briefs? but as i am writing this i realise that even if they slept in the same hotel room, there are obviously a few different possible reasons why misha didn’t know what underwear jensen was wearing that day: either jensen showered and changed in the bathroom, so by the time he faced misha again he was fully dressed, or misha had to leave their hotel room earlier than jensen, or jensen changed while misha showered, etc etc. 

in any case……. jensen dropping trou in the middle of this fucking panel? absolutely batshit insane, 10/10 thank you for your service nesnej. 

this [13m54s] is where shit really starts to hit the fan. jensen is OUT OF CONTROL. the long stares??? the ‘rawr’s??? ‘you didn’t even get the full picture’??? (sidenote i would love to know what misha whispered to him right after).

OKAY so. when the girl mentions j*red and jensen goes all Knowing What’s Up and says ‘oh he has had a rough time today. misha kept us up way too late last night. *glances at misha* rrrrrrr’ listen. the only reason i am not reading too much into this is because i do not believe they had a threesome with j*red but also the way he said it was very sus and my mind can’t help but wonder if they were disgustingly flirty and way too touchy feely in front of j*red whilst drunk and honestly that’s probably the case.

of course this is followed [15m15s] by the insane man saying ‘by the way they go down to here’??? and the potentially whispered ‘i’ll show you later’?????? sir i have a lot of questions. number one: how dare you? 

bless this next person for this question, because she starts her sentence with: ‘people who have been together for a long time…’ i actually already made a post about this once so i implore you all to read that because i still stand by what i said in there.

it is of course followed by them both not being able to think about ANYTHING appropriate to say to the question if there is anything they only do in front of each other that doesn’t involve pants. and then misha goes ‘why don’t i just share a private moment that we had’ and jensen’s first instinct is to say ‘shit’. i mean. i am merely perceiving. 

this is the moment we realise that it has been quite The Day for them, but especially for jensen, because he has been emotional earlier in the day. which, again, could explain his demeanor during the panel. trying to distract himself. notice that he gets up and shakes his legs again and goes for a drink the second misha starts to tell the story: coping mechanisms aka distraction, just like he did at the start of the panel. 

the moment where he goes ‘it’s hitting me now. shit.’ really solidifies this theory for me, that he has been acting like a goofy drunken guy all panel, in order to drown out the emotions he felt that afternoon, but alas. once he started to talk about it, it still all came back to him. 

i will say this though: it kind of warms my heart that he was so touched by the fact that the fandom spawned something good. makes me feel slightly less dumb for forming parasocial relationships with that man. only slightly, but still. 

misha going ‘god he’s so grouchy’ [25m32s]? say it with me, folks: husband behavior. once again misha tries to talk jensen down and jensen listens (sort of). say it with me, folks: d/s behavior. and RIGHT after that jensen walks towards misha with this intense fucking stare in his eyes that makes me feel like i am intruding, and then after he gets another drink (nesnej, why?) he just. gently massages misha’s neck and shoulder before draping his arm around him? and his hand lingers when he goes to grab the keychain? okay. 

insert the famous ‘when in rome’ debacle lmao misha was so done with jensen by then it’s so hilarious. the funny thing is that misha says ‘what i mean is show each other our underwear, nothing weird. you can’t look at me like that, because of what you did’, while the question was ‘what would dean and cas do in rome’ and not ‘what would jensen and misha do in rome’ but clearly, once again, the actors cannot make a distinction between the two. interesting :) it also wouldn’t surprise me if jensen has told him to tone down the dean/cas answers but now that jensen decided to fully flash him on stage misha is like ‘sorry but i am not playing by your rules after what you did’ lmao. of course, jensen’s reaction is to go back to parting his legs for misha, like he is challenging him. i mean. you can’t make this shit up. 

am i the only one who thinks that jensen might be thinking dirty thoughts when misha repeats ‘what would dean and cas do’ [27m50s]? because like. that’s quite a face he is making.

when he says ‘i don’t know how to answer that’ and misha agrees, idk, for some reason i get the feeling that that’s in the sense of ‘i don’t know how to answer that in a way that won’t get our fans’s hopes up because we know what they would want and we know what we would answer but we can’t go there’. 

i really feel like the final straw for daniella was the way that jensen reacted to that last question like he was gonna have another breakdown lmao and that’s why the rest of the cast and crew were pushed onto the stage prematurely. because when you think about it, it’s a pretty rude thing to do when somebody is still answering a question? but okay. 

listen - the last 6 minutes of this panel are so chaotic sdjfhsjh the only thing i can conclude from it is that jensen is hella drunk but we’ve been knew. his mood changes by the fucking second. i love him and his little dance and how he sits down on the stage. i feel like i might be jensen coded when i am drunk. i too get slutty and unpredictable. 

so anyways long story short: jensen was hella drunk and wanted to provoke misha, it worked, they had hot sweaty sex after this panel, and the fact that jensen got drunk enough to entrust misha with taking care of shit during the panel makes me very emotional for some reason, and i just love them a lot. thank you for coming to my ted talk. 

[scuttling]

Tempting

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,392 Tags: 16+, Mature SFW, Pre-relationship, Fantasizing, Accidentally turned on, Mentions of sex Summary: Aaron and Sophie both find themselves... tempted. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 7-12 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Hey, just wanted to hand off my profiles,” Sophie says as she peeks her head into Hotch’s office Wednesday night. “Any idea when the department will catch up to the 21st century and let us do these on the computer?” she asks playfully, and he smiles, rolls his eyes a bit.

“It’s not the department that makes us do these on paper, it’s me. Morgan has been trying to get me to switch to digital, says Garcia can make us a user-friendly system in her sleep.” She crosses her arms, leaning a hip against the doorframe.

“And you’re resistant because…?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it’s nostalgia, or because I hate change.”

“As long as it's not because you’ll miss seeing my smiling face at the end of the day, turning in my files,” she says, and though it’s obvious she’s teasing, that kind of is part of the answer.

He doesn’t want to be just a figure in his office, silently collecting completed case files with a ping of his computer. He knows they know his door is always open, but it’s sometimes the excuse of turning in their work that leads them there, gets them in the door, and he thinks it’s important to maintain.

“All joking aside, I think it could really benefit the team. If you wanted a beta tester, I’d be happy to try it out; we can get together once a week for a couple weeks to discuss any bugs or issues we find with the system. The others don’t even need to know; I could do my regular cases during the day, stay later once or twice a week and work them on the computer. I don’t mind the overtime, I’ve got nothing going on.”

“You should go enjoy your life, not spend extra hours holding my hand because I’m resistant to change.”

“I want to, though, if it will help. And I said I don’t mind the overtime.” They stare each other down for a moment; he is the first to cave, sighing and pushing a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to Garcia, see if she has capacity to work on the program this week.” Her answering smile is almost blinding, and he feels warmth spread in his chest; he's been feeling that a lot lately, always where Sophie is concerned, but especially when she smiles. “Hey, while I’ve got you, do you mind looking at a case with me? I can’t help feeling that I’m missing something.”

“Sure, of course.” She walks fully into his office, around the desk so she’s looking over his shoulder at the open file. Her hair falls in cascading waves around her face before she gets a chance to tuck a few strands behind her ear, and the smell of her shampoo is... tempting, to say the least.

It’s coconut, and jasmine, maybe, a light, tropical scent that makes him think of palm trees, fresh pineapple, warm sand under his feet… Sophie in a bikini, a tiny thing that shows off her every curve… Sophie curled up next to him in a private cabana, laughing softly in the moonlight… Sophie on a soft bed in a hotel room, her bare skin, even darker from sunbathing, a beautiful contrast to crisp white sheets…

“Have you considered that the second unsub could be a woman? That would explain how the victims are being lured from the mall—a woman probably wouldn’t stop in a parking garage at night for a man, but she would for another woman, if she’s in trouble.” She turns to look at him, and he’s shaken from his fantasy abruptly.

“No, uh, I hadn’t considered that. That closes the gap in my profile. Good thinking.”

“That’s why you keep me around, isn’t it?” He earns another, softer smile, and he thinks about leaning in to kiss her, how easy that would be. It doesn’t take long to shake that thought away, because it’s almost literally insane, but he can’t deny that he had it.

“Something like that. Are you headed home?” She stands fully, and he’s glad, because that means the temptation is gone. It’s not her fault in any way, all his, but he can’t deny it gets worse the closer she is.

“Not home; the girls and I are meeting around the corner for a drink. Will you be finishing up soon?”

“Probably not, but it’s alright. I have nothing going on,” he says, repeating her turn of phrase. He looks down at his work, and she sighs lightly.

“You could have something going on. Come out for a drink with me.”

“And crash your meeting with the girls?” He’s not entirely certain he’d be welcome, or comfortable, but she makes it sound so easy. Like it’s something he could just decide to do, if he wanted.

“Trust me, they won’t mind.”

“It’s a nice offer, thank you. Maybe another time.” She rests a hand on his desk, on top of his case file so he can’t finish filling out the consultation paperwork, and he has to look up and make eye contact with her, which he’s sure is by design. She’s too good at reading him, sometimes. “Definitely another time. I really do appreciate the offer.”

“I’m gonna hold you to it, Hotch. You need a life outside of this place.” She lifts her hand from the desk, places it briefly on his shoulder, and then heads for the door. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” he sighs at her retreating back. His feelings seem to be getting a little too hard to ignore. Their next case doesn’t come until the beginning of the next week. Sophie goes with Hotch to interview a victim’s mother in hopes that they can find the woman who is currently missing before the unsub kills her, but they come up with nothing, which is all they’ve come up with all day.

It’s clear Hotch is not pleased with their progress. He stands outside the car for a moment, looking like he’s trying to compose himself, and he takes off his jacket and throws it in the back seat.

“Damn it,” he hisses when they get back into the car, slamming his hands against the steering wheel; he scrubs a hand through his hair, unbuttons his cuffs, and rolls up his shirt sleeves a bit more angrily than seems strictly necessary. Sophie can’t keep her eyes off of his hands as he pushes the fabric up over his forearms—baring firm muscles covered in thick, dark hair—and when he throws the car into reverse and turns his head, placing his palm on the back of her headrest while he looks behind them, it gets her a little… hot.

It’s nothing new, of course. She has been feeling certain things, where Hotch is concerned—some emotional things, some physical things—for a little while now, if she’s being honest with herself. And she’s usually got the presence of mind to ignore it, or force it to the back of her thoughts, but he caught her off guard and she’s spiraling, now, imagining his hands on either side of her head, on her throat, holding open her thighs. His hands are close all the time, and visible, and the thought of reaching out to touch them is just so… tempting.

She must be making an oh, shit face, because his eyes become more inquisitive, his features a little softer. “What’s wrong?” She’s breathing heavily, and her cheeks feel warm, so she probably looks insane; she just shakes her head and exhales lightly, tries to calm herself.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” He looks like he absolutely does not believe her, and she curses herself for the hundredth time for choosing to work around a bunch of profilers; they’re always thinking, analyzing, squinting their eyes at you and trying to figure you out, and it can get really irritating.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m sorry if I upset you,” he says when he’s done squinting. She almost wants to laugh: he’s worried about upsetting her over a minor curse word while she’s literally hot under the collar for him; her chest feels like it’s on fire, always quick to flush when she’s aroused, and she’s thanking the gods that she chose a crew neck t-shirt today and not a v-neck, or the situation would probably be a lot more awkward.

“You didn’t upset me, Hotch, it’s okay,” she insists, and he breaks eye contact to focus on the road.

They ride in silence the rest of the way to the precinct, but he doesn’t move to exit the vehicle after he takes the keys out of the ignition. “I’m sorry again for my outburst. I shouldn’t have reacted that way, at least not with you in the car.” She sits back in her seat, because this is now about more than her embarrassing moment from before.

“You’re allowed to be human, you know,” she tells him, and when it looks like he’s about to argue, she shakes her head. “I know the bureau likes to discourage it, but being in tune with our emotions and other people’s emotions is what makes us the best at what we do. Don’t apologize for the things you feel.”

“I have to lead by example. It’s the best way to set clear expectations.”

“Telling us your expectations is the best way to set clear expectations. You don’t have to pretend to be emotionless. When you’re angry, be angry.” He frowns, looks at her like what she’s saying makes absolutely no sense.

“When I got angry just now, you were looking at me like you were seeing something about me for the first time. Like you were afraid of me.”

“I wasn’t afraid of you, it’s… it’s nothing. I’d really rather not get into it.” His face softens again, and he’s giving her a look that’s usually reserved for families of victims, which throws her off guard.

“I know that victims of abuse can sometimes have a negative reaction to shouting…”

She wants to groan. He’s being so kind, but if he doesn’t let this go...

“I’m not a victim of abuse, and you didn’t scare me.” He still looks guilty, and if that’s what he thinks happened, and that’s how she made him feel? Well she’s gotta come clean sooner than later. She takes a deep breath. “You turned me on, okay? You were angry, and you rolled up your sleeves, and then you put your hand on the back of my seat and it just… affected me. I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she mutters, covering her face with her hand. Hotch processes that, is still processing that when she removes her fingers from her face. He just looks at her, expression carefully blank.

“Oh. Uh, well. It’s natural; nothing you could have done about it.” She sighs at that, runs a hand through her hair.

“I know, I’m not ashamed of being aroused, or anything, but—we’re working, you’re my boss. The situation is awkward.” He looks at the steering wheel, like he can’t say what he’s going to say directly to her.

“You shouldn’t feel awkward. This kind of thing happens to all of us.” She arches her brow, smiles a little incredulously.

“You’re telling me you, Aaron Hotchner, have been inappropriately turned on on the job before?” He shrugs, nodding.

“Sure, yes.” Her brows rise further into her hairline, not believing him for a second; he sighs at her expression and shakes his head, huffing a laugh. “Okay. You were in my office last week, leaning over my shoulder to look at a case file, and I could smell your shampoo. It’s coconut, right?” She nods, not sure exactly where the story is going, but she feels herself getting hot again, against literally her every wish. “Well, it made me daydream of the vacation I so desperately want: a drink in my hand, sun on my skin, sand beneath my feet… making love late at night with a breeze blowing through the open patio door.”

“Oh.” Her heart is racing, beating so hard she’s almost surprised the sound doesn’t give her away, and her breathing is heavy, and she thinks he’s about to speak again when someone taps on his window abruptly. He rolls it down and Gideon sticks his head in.

“There’s another body, 482 West Hemlock; you two might as well stay in the car and meet us there.”

“Will do,” Hotch replies, and Gideon nods, steps away from the car. If he wonders why they were sitting there unbuckled for so long, he doesn't show it.

They back out of the parking lot sexy-incident-free, and they’ve gone a few blocks before he turns to look at her again. “Are we okay? I hope I didn’t say too much.”

“No, you didn't. We’re okay.” She smiles softly, actively thinking about anything but vacation sex with her boss.

(It’s surprisingly difficult.)

They process the crime scene, gaining some new insight about the unsub, and before long they’re ready for a profile. Sophie opts to ride back to the station with Prentiss under the guise of letting Gideon and Hotch iron out the details, but really she needs to be as far away from him as possible while working the case, or she’s going to lose her mind.

The rest of the day is uneventful, spent poring over pages and pages of cold case files trying to link other murders to the one that occurred earlier that day. They identify at least 15, and when they literally can’t go on for a minute longer, Hotch calls it and they discuss where to go to grab some dinner.

Italian wins, and Sophie gets a big, beautiful bowl of pasta primavera and a glass of white wine, and it’s almost enough to make her forget all about the day until Hotch catches her eye from across the table, smiling at something Morgan said, and her stomach clenches. She smiles lightly, trying to hide it, but she’s not sure she was able to save face in time. She spends the rest of the meal arguing semantics with Reid, something so perfectly normal that it shouldn’t raise anyone’s suspicions.

She feels eyes on her anyway, but she doesn’t look in their direction.

[acourtofsnakes]

Aliit ori'shya tal'din - Rogue, Chapter 11| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: Following on from the argument and the hot and heavy moment on Nevarro, you and Mando return to the ship, where you manage to have a conversation without ripping each others throats out. 

Warnings: 18+ because there are mentions of sex but nothing overly explicit or directly happening, weapons, swearing, Fllllluuuuffffyy times~

AN: Short and sweet for this chapter as the next one will be longer and have a lot more detail – things are really gonna start kicking off from here. Drama, powers, feels, it’ll aaallll be going on. 

Also, the next chapter might be uploaded a little later, as I’m waiting on a replacement charger for my laptop and Apple are taking forever.

Word count: 4k+

Rogue Taglist:

@snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran| 9: E’tad | 10: Tome | 11: Aliit ori'shya tal'din| 

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ((my gif this time around))♥︎

Mando’a Translation: Aliit ori'shya tal'din – family is more than blood

He knew he had her from the moment she saw the sword. 

Curiosity had bloomed in her eyes, fighting with the wariness and in the end – winning. 

If he was honest, he hadn’t planned on telling her he knew about her powers yet. 

But she had been as hesitant and defensive as he expected, and the moment seemed to fit. 

Why else did he put the sword across the table?

They said she had no recollection of the powers – or rather blocked them out entirely. And again, they had been wrong. 

The symbols had called to her and she had recognised that pull, she just didn’t know why. 

And he was more than happy to aid her on her journey. 

The Mandalorian showing up did somewhat complicate things. He was a key player that would ultimately determine the path she chose. And if she was as headstrong and stubborn as he believed her to be, there was only so much he could do to edge her along and keep the Mandalorian from messing up his plans. 

But, she had instantly fired up, even going as far as to defend him to the shiny bodyguard. 

That’s why he sought the Marshal out afterwards, to ask Cara to pass along his comms code. 

If she didn’t use it straight away, that was more than fine. He would wait. And so would Gideon. 

All she needed was a little time, to process what he had told her. 

And then, when it had cleared through her mind, maybe when she realised she would never be able to tell the Mandalorian the truth… then she would come back to him, seeking out the help he had promised. 

And then he would have her…

Forever.

~~~~~

“So, how long?”

The Mandalorian looked at Cara as she sat back down at her desk, “How long what?” The frown of confusion he wore was evident in his voice. 

Cara raised an eyebrow at him, as she leant back in her chair, “How long are you two going to keep dancing around each other?” 

Mando scoffed, turning away and wandering across the room, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We are not dancing around each other.”

Cara laughed from behind him, “No? So that whole… whatever that was out there, that was nothing? If I hadn’t shown up, you’d probably still be going at it against a torn down building.”

Heat prickled along his skin, reminding him of the tightness of his trousers that hadn’t long since loosened. If he closed his eyes, he was back against that building with you, his hand over your mouth, to stop the utter filth you were spitting out at him. He’d wanted to deny it, but as always, you were right. 

Of course, he was terrified for your life but… He had been jealous. Completely jealous. 

And… maybe a small part of him did believe that Haran and you had… done those things. 

The images your words created in his mind were so vivid, so crystal clear that he was nearly on his knees before you. 

Only stubborn pride had kept him upright – pride and the urge to get you back, to see if you felt even an ounce of the same need that plagued him, that patrolled his sleeping and his waking hours. 

Part of him was terrified you were all talk, all vicious teasing but then he’d pressed into you and you’d made that soft, earth-shatteringly beautiful moan, and he thought he might explode. 

He saw it in the way your eyes clouded over and rolled back into your head. 

Maybe you did want him just as much, maybe that tension between you was as electric and hypnotic as he thought. 

If only you hadn’t been interrupted… What would have happened? 

Would you have done anything?

Would he have taken off his gloves and felt your skin again but this time, facing you so he could see just what his touch did. 

Maybe you would have shredded each other’s clothes off, and he would have lifted you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and sunk into you, like you had spoken about. 

Would the heat of you have felt like home? Just like he imagined in his darkest, guiltiest dreams? 

You would have ravaged each other against that wall, until you were clawing at his back and he was gripping you tightly as the galaxy crumbled around you, until you were the only two left. The beginning and the end of everything, joined together in both body and soul- 

Ping!

Something bouncing off his helmet brought him out of his lusting thoughts, along with Cara’s amused voice.  “Anyone in there? Do you want me to leave so you can continue with your little daydreams?” 

Mando cleared his throat, turning back to Cara and he shook his head, even if his voice did come out a little husky, “There’s nothing between us, really. We drive each other insane half the time. She never listens to me. And she’s reckless.” 

Cara crossed her arms, kicking her feet up onto her desk, “So are you.”

The Mandalorian rested a hand on his waist, “She runs headlong into danger before. Can even take one step and doesn’t think about the consequences, or the risk to her own life.” 

Cara raised both eyebrows this time, looking pointedly at Grogu and then back at him, “Do carry on.” 

He made a noise, “Look, I still don’t even know why she has such a high bounty on her head. I’ve never asked her, and she hasn’t ever brought it up.”

Cara examined her gloves, “Does it matter? Surely, if it did, you would have found out by now. You wouldn’t have let that one go so easily.” 

She had him there. 

“I… No. It doesn’t matter. Of course it doesn’t. If she doesn’t want to tell me then that’s understandable. And I wouldn’t force it out of her. She’s… She has a dark past. It troubles her… There were times when I would her hear her awake and screaming on the ship but…” He trailed off, thinking. 

Cara looked up and tilted her head, “But what?”

The Mandalorian leant against the wall, “Despite all of that, the fear and the nightmares… it doesn’t consume her. She still blazes through life and see’s the good in everything. Even if its hard, she still tries. We were talking about our favourite planets once… she was telling me about Hoth being one of hers.”

Cara looked surprised and amused, “Hoth? Really?” She shook her head, something affectionate about the gesture, “Why does that not surprise me.”

Mando couldn’t help the soft laugh, “I know.. but she was describing the snow and the ice in a way I’ve never heard before and… I just thought… She just looks at the world so differently. She wants to absorb it all, every little thing, Whether it’s this new fruit in a market or flying a certain way past a cluster of stars…” He looked off into the corner, staring absently through the visor. “There’s a word for it in Mando’a… Shereshoy. It means a lust for life. I thought that about her for a while now…”

“Would you take off your helmet for her?” 

Mando snapped his head back to look at her, his body going rigid with shock, “What?” 

Cara was watching him with an unreadable expression, “Would you take off your helmet?” Her voice was soft as she repeated the question, as if she knew what his response would be.

He blinked at her, even though she couldn’t see it, “What kind of question is that? You know I can’t take this off, not for anyone. Mandalorian’s only take their helmets off after saying their vows to each other. You don’t just.. I can’t-“ He was flushed, his heart pounding uncomfortably even at the mere mention of removing his helmet.

Cara shook her head slightly, “I don’t mean like that… But…” She seemed to be phrasing her words carefully, “If.. there were things you wanted to do.. there are ways round the Creed… no?” 

He said nothing. 

Again, she had hit it right on the head without even trying. The words she was saying were ridiculous but… 

He had already thought about it. 

In those quiet moments, where he granted himself a reprieve and let the thoughts wash over him, he had stared into the darkness and worked all the ways in which he could remove his helmet without breaking the Creed. 

You couldn’t see his true face… which was more than easy enough to work around. 

A blindfold, the lights off in the ship so it was pitch black, your back to his chest…

All he would need to do is trust you. Trust that you wouldn’t turn around or reach for the lights. 

Did he trust you? 

The answer to that question had plagued him as much as the dreams. 

Of course he trusted you. He left his life in your hands back in that alleyway. 

But that was before. Before this… tension between you. 

And now he was certain he could trust you, to an extent but… to give over a part of himself, even if it wasn’t fully him…

That opened him up to a lot of things. 

A lot of danger and a level of vulnerability he had never shared with anyone. 

Cara sat up slowly, perhaps somehow reading everything going on in his head, “Maybe you should think about how you feel about her. What she means to you…. And what your answer to that question might be.” She rose from her chair, looking at him with that same unreadable expression, “Don’t let it slip past, Mando… Don’t let her slip past.” 

~~~

You spent the next couple days in Nevarro, before bidding farewell to Greef and Cara. 

You promised to come back soon and that you’d all take care of yourselves. 

As you had walked up the ramp, you’d noticed Cara give Mando a certain look and mutter something to him, something you couldn’t hear or place. 

Upon seeing you eyeing her suspicious, she simply gave you an innocent smile and waved. 

You had a pretty good idea what it was about, and you didn’t – couldn’t – unpack that right now. So, you mentally tucked it away in that same box that the moment with Mando resided in and hurried up the ramp. 

That was a couple hours ago, and you spent that time mooching about the ship, avoiding the cockpit. You weren’t sure that a confined space was necessarily the best place to be after earlier. 

Especially since Mando had sought you out before you took off, informing you that you could have his sleeping quarters back if you’d like them. You had tried to refuse, but he’d simply taken your bag, placed it on the cot, and left. 

So that was another room to avoid, full of the scent of him – and the knowledge that he had laid in here and… thought about you at night?

Unfortunately, you could avoid it no longer. 

Walking to the ladder, you told yourself to grow up. It was just a bit of sexual tension from an argument. That’s all. It’s nothing different to what hung around you both all the time. 

Besides… you’d missed him and Grogu. 

There was little noise in the cockpit as you ascended the ladder. There was the usual soft beeping of the instruments, the dim whir of the engines and Grogu’s occasional coo. 

The familiar expanse of stars swept past lazily beyond the glass, a sight that you had been missing for weeks. 

The sight bought a smile to your lips as you walked across and took your usual seat, scooping Grogu into your lap. 

The seat creaked reassuringly under you as you settled, and you realised that these were all little things that had come to mean comfort to you. 

A chuckle escaped your lips when you saw Duru asleep on the panel in front of the Mandalorian, her tail swooping down over the buttons and occasionally getting his way. 

She was definitely the same as you – made her spot and stood her ground, no matter if it got in anyone’s way. She was comfy, and that was that. 

Mando startled just slightly at your chuckle, not turning round but you almost felt his attention rest on you, “Hey, settled back in?”

Stars, you had missed that too. The soft, easy rasp of his voice in the gentle quietness. It danced along your bones, soothing them and any anxiety you had about the mood between the pair of you. “Yeah, I am, thanks… It’ll be like I was never gone soon.” 

It was the Mandalorian’s turn to chuckle this time, “Oh believe me, I knew about it. Not just from how silent it was, but from the little womp rat’s temper tantrum for the entire afternoon after we dropped you off.” 

You raised your eyebrows, looking down at the happy green bundle on your lap, “Really? He threw a tantrum?” 

Mando nodded, flicking a few switches, “Yep. He kept throwing things at me for hours. I put him in his crib, but he kept crawling out of it. He was really sulking. He missed you.” 

Something rose in your chest, warmth and joy, maybe. You hadn’t quite grasped how much you meant to the little creature, “Well, I missed him too. I kept looking around for him, to see if he was getting into trouble and eating frogs again.” 

Grogu tilted his head backwards to look at you, innocence radiating from his glossy black eyes and he lifted his cheeks into a matching smile that had your heart melting. 

You grinned, tilting your head down and you pressed a kiss to his wrinkly forehead, between his eyes, “I’m here now, you tiny troublemaker.” 

He gurgled softly, holding your thumb in his three miniature fingers. 

The Mandalorian had turned to watch you, and he was silent for a few moments before saying even softer, “I missed you as well...” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, “A lot, actually.” 

You lifted your eyes to him, unaware that betrayed just how much those words meant to you, the way they made your heart melt and a wave of delight sweep through your belly. 

You felt a different kind of smile curl your lips, gentler and almost shy, “I missed you too… It was too quiet at night. No screaming or tantrums, no running up and down the ship after escaping their bed and having to be sung back to sleep...” You blinked, “Oh, and I missed Grogu too.” You laughed, leaning back in your chair and hugging Grogu closer. 

Mando shook his head, even if his breathing did turn a little funny at the way your eyes crinkled a little at the edges when you laughed, and joy burst in your eyes in such a way that was far more breath-taking than the stars that surrounded you. “Like we discussed before, I’m not the one who’s noisy in the middle of the night.” He remained looking at you, his head slightly tilted, and he sighed softly. 

Without realising, you mimicked his head tilt, an action that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Cara back on Nevarro, “What is it?”

He looked away and fiddled with the edge of his vambrace, the nervous gesture you had noticed when you first met. He seemed be toying with the words in his mind and for some reason, it made you a little nervous.  

You swallowed, a smile still on your lips and humour still in your voice though, “Credit for your thoughts?” 

It was still a few more seconds before he spoke again, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it through the helmet. “I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

You blinked. There was no way you heard that correctly. “What?”

He lifted his head to look at you, “I said, I shouldn’t have sent you away.” There was no mistaking it, his voice was stronger this time and full of conviction. 

Well, shit. What do you say to that?

You gazed back at him, words fumbling through your mind but none of them seeming right – or rather, none of them words you should say. So, instead, you opted for sarcasm and humour. 

A look of mock shock stretched your features and you gasped, “By the stars.” You looked down at Grogu with wide eyes, “Did you hear that?” 

Grogu cooed in similar astonishment, his ears pricking up. 

You nodded quickly, “I know! He just admitted he was wrong! I’m as shocked about it as you are.” 

Mando sighed again softly, but it wasn’t his usual playful exasperated sigh, “I’m being serious.”

The laughter died in your throat, and you carefully lifted your gaze back to him. You bit your lip for a moment, just reading the emotion in his posture, “I know… But… like you said, it wasn’t safe for me here. You did the right thing.”

He made a pained noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head and he leaned closer to you, “No, please don’t. Please don’t repeat my words back to me. It was a mistake. I… I was running from my own problems.” His hand twitched, like he was going to reach for yours but then he hesitated.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, this conversation one of those deep ones that the pair of you only seemed to have after a near death experience, or whilst you were at each other’s throats. You let go of Grogu, letting your hand rest on the edge of the armrest, a silent encouragement, a plea. “What do you mean…?”

The Mandalorian took a soft breath, reaching out and he slid his hand under yours, enclosing his fingers around your own. “I thought I could keep you safer, if you weren’t with me. The price on mine and the kids head was as much a siren call for hunters as yours was.” He shook his head, “No, that sounds like I’m blaming you.” He blew out a breath, pausing to reassemble his words, “On your own, you might stand a better chance of hiding. I mean, look how well you did before I came along. It took me a month to find you. You were a ghost.” Something like pride lined his voice. “Throw me and the kid into the mix, and we were broadcasting you to the entire galaxy.” 

You said nothing, holding your tongue for once. This was the most you’d ever heard him speak, topping the other day. This was… big. He was building up to something. 

He began to gently massage your palm, almost an absent motion like he didn’t realise he was doing it, “That night in the kitchen…” 

The delicious pressure of his hands and the friction of the leather simultaneously soothed you, even as your blood heated at the mere mention of that night.  

“That night in the kitchen, I began to realise. How much… I had come to value you being here. And not just because you help with the kid but the other things. When we go on hunts, you watch my back. You see things that I miss. It feels.. not fun but… something more, with you. I don’t often have anyone to watch my back. A partner, someone to rely on. And that terrified me. That I had come to look forward to our evenings, the drag of being in hyperspace. Both of us liked having you here… I liked to have you here, princess. You’re the first true friend I’ve had in years. The others are my friends of course but… with you, it’s different.” He didn’t lift his head, focused on your hand but you had the feeling he wanted to. 

“It terrified me because caring about something, about having a friend like that… it means it’ll get hurt. Or taken away. And I couldn’t beat the idea that I signed your death warrant. Not because of the guilt, but because you have such a joy, such a way of viewing the world that it would be devasting for that to be ripped away. So, I thought sending you to Nevarro, putting you under the protection of Greef and Cara… I thought it would make you safer. I thought… that I could handle it.” His hands stilled momentarily, before tracing over your knuckles. “And I couldn’t.” 

He seemed to be finished for the moment, so you jumped in softly, “I couldn’t stand it either. I haven’t slept properly since the last time I was here. Everything is too quiet. The bed was too soft… I missed looking out of the window and seeing the stars go past, or hearing you talk to Grogu.” You watched him trace down your fingers, “I was scared too. And I still am. Every single friend or companion I’ve had ends up being murdered. And it’s my fault.” There was no anguish in your voice this time. It was fact, after all. “And I still wake up screaming, seeing you and the kid on the floor and your blood on my hands. I taste it. “ You took a slow breath, “But… I want to stay. I want to stay here with you both, and we can hunt down whoever is after all of us.” 

Mando chuckled a little at something, merely a huff of breath, “You always know exactly what I’m thinking.” He straightened, gently letting go of your hand to rummage behind him for something. “Here…” He held out his hand, something resting in his palm. 

Heart in your mouth, you looked down at his hand. 

And nearly stopped breathing. 

Nestled against the leather, lay a necklace. A small charm, attached to a thin leather cord. But the charm itself… 

It was the sigil of Mythosaur, gleaming softly in dull metal. 

Your breath was still caught in your throat, and your fingers trembled as you carefully reached out lifting the charm, “Lori…” 

He watched you intently, drawing his hand back to his body. “It’s a Mythosaur… They are said to have run wild over the lands of Mandalore long ago… I was given one myself when I was a foundling..” 

Grogu made a soft noise from your lap, and he clumsily tugged something from his tunic. It was a matching necklace, and you surmised that this was the one the Mandalorian had received. 

You were at a loss for words. 

Truly. 

When the threads of your lives had entangled back on Sorgan, you never could have pictured this. You never would have pictured yourself now with… a family? 

The Mandalorian seemed to know what you were thinking, because he slid from his seat, kneeling down in front of you. He gently took the necklace from your hands and drew it down over your head, letting it rest just between your collarbones, “I know we had a rocky start… I mean, I did knock you out and you did try to kill me.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh, even it was a little choked, trembling a little as you beheld the sight of him kneeling before you. 

His voice sounded like he was smiling, but it too, was full of emotion as he gently pulled your hair free of the cord, “Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” The rich baritone of his voice melted into honey as he spoke.

The sound of the language in his voice was so beautiful, so oddly comforting that you could have listened to it forever. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your own voice hoarse, “What does that mean?”

The Mandalorian reached for something behind him in a pouch, “It means… family is more than blood.” His hand trembled as he held it out once more in front of him and this time, resting between his fingers was a pin. 

A pin representing the Mudhorn. 

The very same sigil that was embossed onto his pauldron. 

The symbol of his and Grogu’s clan. 

Mando watched you, his voice tender, hand still trembling, “Will you stay with me and the kid?” 

Tears shone in your eyes, blurring your vision slightly as you looked at the new pin in his hand, and everything it symbolised. 

Friendship, hope, a place to call home. No, people to call home. Lori and Grogu.. they were your home. Your new clan. And maybe, in time, you would be able to tell him your secret. Tell him about your powers that called to you stronger and stronger every single day. 

You reached out, carefully scooping up the pin, “Yes… It would be an honour.” A teary smile swept across your face, at the same time as Grogu’s happy cry.

The Mandalorian made a breathless noise, and if he had no helmet on, you would have seen the smile on his lips that made the edges of his eyes crinkle. You would have seen the tear that rolled down his cheek and the joy in his eyes, mixed with something else he hadn’t quite acknowledged yet. 

“We’ll be a clan of three.” 

Previous| Next

(Here is the necklace, and here is the pin)

[04tenno]

I read through your post regarding Mine’s practically undeniable attraction to Daigo, and I was a bit surprised to see that the phrasing of intense love had never died down in official RGG works regardless of how many years have passed from the third game. Something unsurprising, however, is that I had seen users on the Yakuza subreddit claiming that the love comment was “up to interpretation as to what kind of love it is was.” I just think it’s extremely fishy how they say that, and then choose to believe it’s platonic while beating away any belief that it’s romantic. You really hit the nail on the head when talking about the denial and rejection people have towards it. And calling others fujoshi for seeing it as non-platonic? Another non-surprise.

-

I was wondering if you had any thoughts on other characters. Like maybe Majima? Your post was a really good read, and it just had me curious about anything else. Really wish Mine could have been around in more games as it would have been interesting to see what else they could have done with his character.

The reason it came as a surprise that the studio never let up on this aspect of Mine to me—I don't know if this is the case for you—was because it was a clear indication that their characterization of Mine was in earnest. They made it impossible to miss (well, to whom it may concern) and kept it that way. That isn't something I personally feel the studio has been able to replicate since then. Which isn't to say I'm looking to downplay the existence of other LGBT characters or the unique connection fans may feel towards characters they interpret as LGBT, but for me, when it comes to discussing LGBT themes and interpretations in this series, I'll admit outright that I don't have any interest in putting my thoughts out there on any serious level until and unless the studio can bring themselves to say it with their whole chest like they did with Mine. I've said everything I feel needed to be said it comes to that.

Hot on the heels of RGGO's Yakuza 3 "memorial" this month where no one so much as breathed a syllable of Mine's name, I definitely think he's underrepresented. Even so, the reason I was able to make the post in the first place is because the content we do get is, if nothing else, extremely consistent. The phrasing of intense love never died down, like you said, and neither has the quality of his writing as a character (which remains some of the best in the series), because the studio's laser-focus on what Mine's essence as a character is has never changed. (Tangentially, it's unfortunate the team working on RGGO will probably never reach the level of enthusiasm they had for Ichiban or Ryuji's stories again, since Mine was also in consideration to be a protagonist at one point.)

By the same token, that's why I don't know when the next time I can put out something that's up to the same standard as "the Mine essay" will be. It might look well-put-together (or so I hope!) but it was actually 100% off-the-cuff. I believe there was a small "influx" of edits to Mine's article and if I recall, someone was bothering my friend Ada @okitanoniisan (love u sorry to ping re: this particular topic) about it around the same time. I happened to have a point I wanted to make that was fresh on my mind since I'd been translating Mine's RGGO content and I'd finished Y3R (in one sitting!) with Ada not too long before, and I happened to have the sources to back that point up. That's all there is to it. At the same time, it wasn't only an unsolicited, raw, and mostly uncensored dive into an aspect of the franchise that's often overlooked. Anyone that talks to me regularly can attest to to the fact I'll bang one of those out at the drop of a hat. It was both that and something I knew for certain that people might take interest in, positive or negative or maybe out of curiosity.

It's not only things like how it's often difficult for me to gauge whether there's an audience for the topics I genuinely want to talk about, or how when I know there is one (as is the case for fan-favorites like Majima) I often feel like anything I could say has been said already, but going back to Mine being underrepresented as a character, the fact he was never given the chance to evolve is exactly, and kind of tragically, what makes it possible for me to make authoritative statements about him as a character. I don't have moments where I think I'm "missing something." I don't ever feel like I need to review an insurmountable amount of content to begin to make a statement (or even to find something to make a statement about). I don't have to be held accountable for how I translate or interpret things on a larger scale.

Which is to say I'm not sure where I want to take this blog, but I don't see that type of long-form content (or much of any content) in its near feature. I just don't know what there's an audience out there for and I'm not in a position where I can take a chance on potentially over-investing my time and energy into something like that.

[symwinter]

Honkai as Genshin Characters Part 3 - Stragglers

This is the section where I literally grasped at straws for my choices to make sense.

Kiana Kaslana → geo bow user — okay so, in game we don’t have guns which Kiana uses outside of the red fatui grunt so I had to get creative. As a replacement for her guns I’ve made her an archer. As for making her a geo user, most of her Honkai ultimates include making large guns and again, we can’t even use them yet. However her augment core attack consists of punching the ground causing enemies to get thrown in the air. I figured that maybe we could have it so the ground around her from a certain distance gets pushed up. I imagine it would do extra damage in co-op scenarios if air born enemies are hit. Also her line phrase during it is “the time of judgement has come” which fits well with the characters who have time in their attacks such as Diluc and Kaeya.

Durandal → pyro polearm user — 2/3 of Durandal’s battlesuits are pyro and she uses a lance which is the Honkai equivalent to a polearm. While I love the aesthetic of Lord Paramount, since Durandal isn’t Japanese let alone Asian, I feel like elements of Dea Anchora would work well. That being said, her elemental would be based of her Valkyrie Gloria “Eruptio Magnifica” even though her turning her legs into a bow to shoot a Lance like an arrow of Dea Anchora is pretty cool.

Rita Rosserweise → electro catalyst user — as mentioned in the Seele section she has a weapon that doesn’t exist yet so I had to get creative. Again, she could use her elemental burst to make an electro scythe though. My favourite Rita battle suit, Fallen Rosemary, is does lightning damage (aka electro damage), and it also includes creating animal constructs out of lighting like a bird, snake, and wolf head so she’d fit in seeing as Fischl and Razor both do that. I could easily see her Fallen Rosemary look being used but Rita normally has short hair so I’m not sure which hair type would work best. I could also see her being a cryo user since she her battelsuit Argent Knight: Artemis does freeze enemies.

Theresa Apocalypse → Anemo catalyst user — I feel like I’m really grasping at straws here but her SP battelsuit Starlit Astologos creates a giant wind tornado so anemo, and in Honkai her weapon is classified as a cross when really she just uses magic lances so her burst could create something that shoots wind lances at enemies in the area of its direct shot? Outfit wise I would give her her Empyrean Psalms look. It’s my favourite of hers to date and I love it.

Fu Hua → I have no clue — part of me wants to make her like Madame Ping where she’s an non playable Adepti that’s human shaped since I don’t know what do to. She has no element association and her primary attack style is punching and kicking which isn’t in the game. I can’t with her. She would be from Liyue as in Honkai she is a centuries old Chinese bird lady. No I will not elaborate.

Inspiration

Durandal (Like Lord Paramount looks so cool. Perhaps elements could be taken from it?)

Rita (Fallen Rosemary is an iconic look but 3/4 looks without costumes are short so I’m not sure of what to do)

Theresa

Augment Kiana using her ult.

[foreignobjecticus]

Fic writer interview

 tagged by: @thisbluespirit - thank you!

 name: foreignobjecticus on AO3

 fandoms: Blake’s 7, Morgan’s Boy. I have a handful of fics/ideas for a lot of other fandoms including Granada Holmes, Raffles, Callan, Poirot, Fallout 4, etc., but I don’t really have anything postable for those.

 two-shot: I kind of have a two shot with In Stitches mainly because we (@hadescavedish) didn’t know when to stop on that. I also have a two shot for this thing I’m working on right now which should be in the upcoming @rebelsandfools. It’ll definitely be only part one tho, but it stands alone.

 most popular multi-chapter fic: I don’t really have any multi-chapter ones tbh. Mainly, it’s just not how I work (and I don’t really count my veryyyy old fics from inactive fandoms). I write big fics, sure, but we die like men and post them all in one chunk (personally, I find reading multi-chapters on AO3 annoying and prefer to use the Entire Work function). Also, if you multi-chapter and work as you go, you can’t go back later and add things/alter earlier plot points. Since I’m not very strong with plot, this is something I can’t give up!

I do have some background multichapter things, at least one of which I intend to post in full once completed, whenever that should happen. It’s for a fandom not on this list and very loosely based to the point where it might as well be original. We’ll see.

 actual worst part of writing: Having a whole scene pop into your head while busy and then not having the chance to write it down. Also, getting a certain turn of phrase or set of adjectives stuck in your head and then reusing them too much.

 how you choose your titles: In a panic when AO3 pings me as having missed a box when I’m ready to post! Hahah

Funny thing, in Grade 7 I wrote a story and gave it a title which the teacher marked as “bad, irrelevant”, and ever since then, I’ve been hyper-aware of making sure the title makes at least a little bit of sense, which is why I don’t use song lyrics. Generally, at a stretch, I’ll pick out a phrase in the fic or sometimes a kind of play on words. They’re never all that clever. I don’t know if Mrs. H would be proud ahahahaah

 do you outline: Sometimes. I’m getting better at it as I write more, but I didn’t use to. These days I’m usually discussing the fic or hcs with someone, so I get direction from conversation, sometimes whole outlines. Because I’m not big on plot, I never used to – a Catch-22 kind of thing, really; no plan, no plot, no plot, no plan.

 ideas you probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice: I have so many WIPs/hc ideas that are yet to be made into fic/more than a few snippets. The thing is, I rarely abandon something – I’ll get to it eventually if I have the time. My latest projects I have in the back of my head for after RnF are a collab, an epilogue for MB (predictable, but I like to hurt), a couple of crack and/or smut fics which I have been sitting on for nearly a year, a B7/MB crossover, a handful of private projects, and two or three big A/V AUs of various sorts plus 600 small ones. (See, even writing this, I went to check a list I have from October last year and I have a few things to check off while most of these above are still on it.)

 callouts @ me: repetitive use of words. Also spending far too many hours re-reading what I’ve already wrote instead of writing new content.    

 best writing traits: Not entirely sure – a lot of the time, the things people pinpoint in their comments are the bits I was least sure of in my fic, but that’s also very encouraging! I often get compliments on getting character voices right, which is lovely!

 spicy tangential opinion: If you’re writing a main canon character completely ooc just to fit whatever’s happening in your plot or cramming them in to fit a theme, probably stop writing them and use a different character/oc instead. Interpretations and characters acting ooc because of the situation can be very effective if done correctly, but if done wrong, imo it just makes the fic unreadable. The key is finding a balance if you’re gonna go there. Of course, this is an opinion which can vary vastly between readers/writers.

 tagging: so many of you have been tagged already! Alright, I’m going to tag @anoddreindeer, @jaelijn, @bruinhilda and @wat-the-cur this time - only do if you want to, of course! And apologies if you’ve already been tagged elsewhere.

[alj4890]

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 2

(Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Christmas one shot.

A/N I always love these two and their awkward ways of admitting they want more than friendship. What better way to do so than at a holiday party that is nothing but chaotic? This fic grew longer and longer as I worked on it. I blame my daydreaming and my lack of self-control. Woooo 2020! LOL!

12 Days of Ficmas writers and readers list

@texaskitten30​ @leelee10898​ @emichelle​ @zaffrenotes​ @burnsoslow​ @kat-tia801​ @darley1101​ @msjr0119​ @annekebbphotography​ @god-save-the-keen​ @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd  @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject

Thomas Hunt List

@krsnlove @lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment   @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @greywitchyshots @lilyoffandoms @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfanfiction @kate-mckenzie @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @trappedinfandoms

Song Inspiration: Underneath the Mistletoe by Kelly Clarkson and Brett Eldridge

Masterlist

Mistletoe Madness

November 28th...

"Well," Ryan began as soon as he entered Thomas's suite. "He did it again."

"Again? How delayed will we be this time?" Thomas demanded.

"We're looking at another six weeks." The former heartthrob movie star recently turned executive producer poured them both a drink. "Given the holidays approaching, I suspect it will be closer to nine weeks."

Thomas grumbled about never again agreeing to producing another person's film.

If he had not witnessed the young director's raw talent firsthand, he would have never joined this venture. With Ryan Summers urging him on to support the next generation, he had somehow ended up spending the last few months in New York City and basically babysitting a twenty-two year old recent film graduate.

"Austin swears this will be the last time." Ryan explained.

Thomas took a healthy gulp of scotch.  "Are we certain he isn't in over his head?"

"You've seen the dailies." Ryan rubbed a hand down his face. "What do you think?"

Thomas slumped in his chair. "It is going to be a critically acclaimed film that sweeps the Oscars."

Ryan finished off his drink and stood up. "Don't worry. There is nothing like Christmas in New York."

"Except in my home." Thomas grumbled.

"Have no fear." Ryan's charming smile flashed. "I intend on hosting my annual Christmas party."

Thomas didn't bother to repress his shudder. "You mean that garish monstrosity that you refer to as an intimate gathering?"

"Can I help it that everyone loves me?"

"I believe you could." Thomas grumbled.

"Look on the bright side." Ryan reminded him. "Most of the people who love me are nearly three thousand miles away in California. This might actually be my most intimate gathering yet."

"True." Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose one night of revelry won't kill me."

"There's that Christmas fortitude." Ryan set his empty glass down. "I'll let you know when the plans are finalized."

On his way out the door, he sent an image with a couple of phrases to a few groups in his contact list.

Christmas Party: Where? 80 Fifth Avenue at 14th Street, 17th Floor PH, New York, NY When? 7p.m., December 17. Why? You already know the answer. RSVP? Only if you want to come inside.

Within seconds of sending it, his phone began to chime nonstop with friends and acquaintances saying they would fly in just for his party.

******************

December 14th...

"Oof!" Amanda tried to keep from falling over. "I'm so sor--"

"My fau--Amanda!" Ryan grasped her arms. "What are you doing in New York?"

"Some of Cordonia's nobles were invited for a World Tourism forum." She explained. "What about you?" Her teasing smile formed. "Why are you not in sunny California?"

He chuckled and linked his arm with hers, guiding her toward a nearby coffee shop. "I'm currently here as a producer."

"I had heard that you were stepping behind the camera for a change."

"Producing seemed the easiest." He shook his head with a laugh. "I never knew I could be so wrong."

After placing their orders and finding a table in a secluded corner, he asked how long she would be in New York.

"I was supposed to leave with everyone yesterday." She picked at her chocolate croissant. "But I decided to stay a few more days and do some Christmas shopping."

"So it’s just you?" He asked.

"Just me." She smiled at him. "I don't have anyone complaining about the cold weather or my tendency to linger near Christmas decorations."

"Speaking of Christmas decorations," he held his phone up, "Did you receive my party invitation?"

"I did. I didn't RSVP because I wasn’t sure how long I would stay here."

"Then allow me to RSVP for you." He quickly added her to the list. "Can't have one of my favorite duchesses alone this weekend."

She chuckled. "Who else is coming?"

"The usual." He flashed a smile. "You know most of them. One in particular."

Her eyebrow lifted. "Now I am curious."

"Thomas has been here with me." He explained. "We are both producers--"

"I know." She said softly.

"You do?" His smile grew mischievous. "Just how close did you two become when he filmed in Cordonia last spring?"

She squirmed in her chair. "We became friends."

"Friends or friends?"

"Ryan..." She could feel a headache forming at his prodding.

"Sorry." He relaxed back in his chair. "I know it is none of my business. Just because I am friends with both parties doesn't mean that I have a right to know if they moved out of that friendship phase of--"

"Thomas was right." Amanda playfully threw her napkin at him. "You really don't stop talking."

"Well," he shrugged. "I mean there are ways I enjoy being forced to shut up." He winked at her. "But I don't think you want to go down that road, at least not with me."

"You are impossible." She shook her head in resignation.

"I know." Ryan straightened in his chair when he noticed the time. "I have a meeting with one of the caterers." He flashed a smile as he stood up. "Want to come along and keep me company?"

"I should try and finish my shopping." She glanced down at the different bags of Tiffany blue, Gucci white, and Cartier red. "Especially now that I have to find something to wear for your party."

"Come with me and then I will help you find whatever you want." He took her bags before she could give an answer. "I could use someone else's opinion on appetizers."

"I suppose I have to say yes, since you're holding my purchases hostage."

He chuckled at her teasing while offering his arm. "Come with me, duchess, if you ever want to see these again."

Slipping her arm through his, they set off down Fifth Avenue.

*****************

Later that night...

Thomas wrapped a towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower. He rolled his shoulders in an attempt to work the many knots of stress that persisted after fourteen hours of filming.

I should have remained in the director's chair.

The need to take control was growing stronger than ever. It was a wonder that he had not broken the arms off of the chair he sat in as he attempted to keep his mouth shut. The ridiculously young director had made numerous decisions he wanted to change.

But it isn't my vision we are going for.

As he rubbed a towel through his hair, he heard the familiar ping of notifications on his phone.

He picked it up, smiling at seeing Amanda's name as part of an alert.

It disappeared when he saw the following images.

She was in New York. With Ryan.

And it looked like they were more than friends.

"Why didn't she tell me she was here?" He muttered to himself.

He swiped through the images of smiling Ryan sitting on a couch at Versace while Amanda twirled in a dress for him.

He then saw an image of the two walking out of a coffee shop, arm in arm.

Thomas tossed his phone on the bed as he hurried to dress. Frustration built within him at the thought that Ryan might feel something for her.

After months of debating how to broach the subject of dating, he couldn't believe that he might have missed his opportunity with her.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at his door.

Eyes narrowed when he saw who it was through the peephole.

"Ready?" Ryan asked as he walked in. "I was able to get us a table at Cote for..." He trailed off when Thomas turned his back on him. "What's wrong? No to Korean barbecue or did Austin flounder again?"

"No."

"Still struggling with his directing decisions?" Ryan asked.

"No. In a way. But no." Thomas bit out.

He knew he was being unreasonable. Ryan couldn't possibly know how he felt about the duchess since he had not bothered to share that with anyone.

Still, it should have been him running around New York with her instead of his flirtatious, playboy friend.

Wondering just how serious Ryan was about Amanda, he decided to casually get some information out of him.

"How did the party planning go?"

"Better than I expected." Ryan's smile reappeared. "Everything is set. Music, food, drinks, and decorations will be on theme this year."

"Ah." Thomas mumbled. "And the theme is?"

"You'll see." Ryan winked. "You won't believe who I ran into today."

Finally. "Who?"

"Amanda Bridgerton. There was some type of forum she had to attend last week and she decided to remain here on her own for some extra days of fun and shopping." Ryan replied.

"Is she coming to your party?" Thomas asked.

"It took some of my powers of persuasion, but I got her to agree."

"She should have let me know she was here." Thomas cleared his throat. "It would have been nice to see her."

"I asked her about that when she said she knew you were in New York." Ryan cocked his head to the side as he studied his friend. "She said she didn't want to bother you while you worked."

"Amanda isn't a bother." Thomas felt a little better at hearing that.

It does sound like the thoughtful thing she would normally do.

"That's what I told her." Ryan replied, checking the time again. "If you don't hurry, we’ll be late in meeting her for dinner."

Thomas's head jerked up. "We're having dinner with Amanda?'

"Why wouldn't we?" Ryan slowly smiled. "Once I told her that you would welcome a distraction from producing, she readily agreed to dinner."

The pictures then were like any other from gossip magazines. Completely innocent.

Ryan noticed an expression of relief form on Thomas's face.

He leaned forward in his chair. "Just how close were you two in Cordonia?"

Thomas's flush told the actor all he needed to know.

"We became friends." He muttered on his way back into the bathroom.

"Friends, huh?" Ryan rubbed his hands together. "I guess that's why Amanda is still single."

*****************

Cote NYC, an hour later...

"There she is." Ryan pointed towards a table to the right of the restaurant.

Amanda was studying the menu and didn't notice them walking in.

Thomas felt that same jolt to his heart that he had each time he saw her. Knowing she would be here with him, with no distractions, made him decide to test the proverbial waters.

The moment she looked up, her eyes immediately went to Thomas.

Her smile was filled with warmth and a touch of shyness when she stood up to greet him.

His lips grazed her cheek as he took her hands.

Even in the dim light, he could see her blush.

Ryan glanced from one to the other and cleared his throat. After a second, louder clearing to get their attention failed, he spoke up.

"I'm here too."

Amanda pulled her hands out of Thomas's grasp.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" She teased.

Ryan dramatically clutched his chest. "Did our day out together mean nothing to you?"

She shook her head at his foolishness. "I might have enjoyed it, if you hadn't made me try on so many dresses."

She sat back down and felt a thrill go through her body when Thomas slid in next to her.

He draped his arm along the back of their booth and turned more towards her as they talked.

Ryan observed the two closely, a slight smirk on his lips at discovering that there was a definite attraction between the two.

His party's mistletoe theme would go a long way in helping these two.

*****************

Towards the end of dinner, both men received a cryptic text from Austin.

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. "Do you understand what he is talking about?"

"Unfortunately, I do." Thomas slipped his phone back in his pocket. "We better go in case he decides to try and dangle a camera from the Empire State building.

Ryan motioned to the waiter for the check.

Amanda tried to not be too disappointed. She hadn't realized how much she had missed being around Thomas until she had him sit next to her. The dinner had been the best she had had in a long time.

And it had nothing to do with the food.

His attention had settled on her and remained. It was a wonder she had not become tongue tied under his steady, dark gaze. His fingers grazed her shoulder every so often each time he settled his arm along the back of their seat.

If only they could have been alone without anyone disturbing them.

"Where are you staying?" Thomas asked.

"The Ritz-Carlton." Amanda wrote her suite number down for him. "Twenty-first floor."

He slipped it into his pocket before giving her his hotel and room information.

"We aren't too far away from you." He smiled softly at her. "Perhaps after we calm Austin down, we can plan on meeting up."

"I would love that." She took his hand as he helped her out of the booth.

"If nothing else, you two can meet up at my annual Christmas party." Ryan added.

Thomas and Amanda both stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.

"That's true." She mumbled.

"It is a small gathering still. Isn't it?" Thomas asked.

Ryan shrugged as he led the way out.

"Do you know how big it will be?" Thomas whispered.

"No." Amanda's eyes narrowed. "But if I had to judge by the caterer's face when Ryan wrote down how many he was expecting, small is not going to be associated at all with his party."

***************

Dec. 17, Manhattan Penthouse, Fifth Avenue...

"I can't believe that we have been trapped with Austin the past few days." Thomas grumbled.

"Neither can I." Ryan slung an arm around his friend's shoulders and gave a gentle shake. "Cheer up. We now have two weeks or so of freedom from the boy wonder."

"There is that." Thomas eyed the growing number of people coming in. "Aren't you supposed to greet your guests?"

"Nah. Everyone knows who I am." Ryan replied. "But I will go mingle."

Once he disappeared into the crowd, Thomas lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Every five feet or less, a sprig of mistletoe dangled with lights and tinsel. The plant was hung from the main bar to every inch of the ballroom. There were even a set over the bathroom doorways.

Between the open bar and whatever alcoholic concoction Ryan's Christmas punch was made of, this holiday party would soon turn into a different sort of gathering.

Thomas wanted no part of an almost drunken orgy.

The only reason he had come was so that he could see Amanda. The long hours working with Austin had offered nothing except a quick phone call to apologize that he couldn't meet up with her. The few texts they exchanged were filled with understanding and a hope to see each other soon.

He hoped to find her in this crowd that was quickly getting larger and entice her away. Go someplace quiet where he could talk to her about taking that next step that would change everything.

That shouldn't be too difficult, he thought as he began to walk around.

But Thomas had made one mistake.

He was walking a path covered in mistletoe.

**************

An hour later...

"There you are!" Ryan greeted Amanda with a kiss on her cheek. "I was afraid you weren't coming."

"It was a long line for the elevator." She looked around at the crowded room. "Looks like you invited everyone."

"Not everyone." Ryan handed her a cup of punch. "I forgot to invite my financial advisor. One of the guys that serves coffee. Probably a couple of others."

Not paying attention, Amanda took a big gulp of the punch. She struggled to get a deep breath as she felt the alcohol burn a path down her throat to settle with the sensation of a small fire forming in her stomach.

"What," she wheezed, "is in this?"

"Old Summers family secret." He nudged her cup up to take another swallow. "The first is the hardest. The ones that follow make everything bright."

"Don’t you mean right?" She took a tentative sip and realized he was right. The fire was gone, leaving her with an aftermath of warm giddiness. Finishing off her cup, she smiled while admiring his decorations. "It really does make everything bright."

He chuckled while pouring her another one. "Enjoy duchess. I have to go talk to the couple that just walked in." Ryan gestured toward the back of the ballroom. "I saw Thomas over there earlier."

Before she could say anything, he disappeared.

Smiling from not only the Christmas punch but also at the thought of spending time with the man she secretly loved, Amanda began to weave her way through, pausing only long enough to greet those she knew.

***************

"For the love of--" Thomas suffered through another overly eager kiss.

This particular wannabe celebrity told him she was a popular YouTube personality.

It took all of his willpower to keep from telling her that he truly didn't care about her type of fame nor anything about her. He untangled himself from her arms and picked up his pace.

Being blocked in by Ryan's guests on one side and tables on the other, he had yet to escape the long line of mistletoe.

"Dammit!" He was grabbed once more.

"Is that any way to greet me, Thomas?" A sultry actress cooed.

"Good evening, Ava." He grasped her arms. "If you will excuse me--"

"You're under the mistletoe." She gripped the lapels of his blazer. "You know what that means?"

"Unfortunately, I do." He grumbled. Closing his eyes, he subjected himself to the kiss she pressed to his lips.

When Thomas was finally released, he first took pleasure in the disappointed expression on Ava's face from his lack of response.

Then his heart dropped at the person who stood a few feet away, staring at him.

Amanda turned away when Thomas locked eyes on her. Her mind jumped from one wild thought to another.

Thank God I didn't tell him how I felt! What if I had and then he had been forced to point out which woman he preferred? I need to leave. No! Then he'll suspect! I have to stay. Smile. Drink, dance, and be merry. Act like my heart didn't drop at the sight of Thomas being kissed by a woman I can't ever compete with.

She knew she couldn't run away so she remained in place. With a neutral expression on her face, she watched him out of the corner of her eye walk over to her.

"Amanda, I--that display you--I--" Thomas stuttered.

She turned toward him with a friendly smile firmly on her lips. "Thomas," she began with a slight, carefree laugh, "what can one do when caught under the mistletoe?"

Thomas blinked, taken aback when she casually shrugged the incident away.

Her heart was thudding as if she had sprinted. Pretending to not be affected by everything was too hard with his attention on her. She needed a temporary escape.

She called upon the things her friends in Cordonia depended on when upset.

Olivia would tell her to face the situation head on.

Not something I want to do.

Drake would go to the bar.

I've already had too much Christmas punch.

Hana would suggest desserts.

The table is too far away.

Maxwell would suggest to dance one’s troubles away.

Hmm. I could do that.

Her eyes scanned some of the men that stood nearby. Catching Ryan's eye, she nodded toward the dance floor with a silent plea.

He smiled at her. Coming over to do as she wanted, he noticed Thomas and glanced curiously back and forth at the two.

"Duchess?" He held his hand out. "Care to dance?"

"I would love to." She turned to a shocked Thomas. "Would you mind holding my drink?"

When his fingers grazed hers, she looked up at his face. Her carefully guarded expression flickered revealing her angry frustration.

"Feel free to use my cocktail napkin." She snapped.

"Your napkin?" Thomas repeated. "Why?"

"That shade of lipstick isn't really your color." She lowered her eyes and stubbornly ignored his attempt to explain.

She grabbed Ryan's hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

Ryan immediately twirled her as the upbeat tempo began. Taking both her hands to pull her toward him, he lifted an eyebrow in silent question.

She shook her head. "Don't ask. Please."

His gaze momentarily softened to pity. "Then hold on tight." He broke out some swing dance moves in the hopes of getting her to smile.

Her laughter at the numerous twirls he spun her in with dramatic dips made him smile.

"You know?" He said, once she was upright. "The only way I was able to get Thomas to agree to come tonight was telling him that you would be here."

"Ryan." She muttered.

"Amanda." He countered with a flirty grin on his face.

She couldn't help but smile back. "How do you make it impossible to ignore you?"

"Part of my charm." He admitted, twirling her into his embrace right as the song came to an end. "Now go forth and be kissed by someone you like."

She looked about at the number of couples kissing on the dance floor. She then lifted her eyes to the ceiling, sighing in relief that they had danced in a mistletoe free zone.

"I don't know if I should be thrilled for the one you prefer or insulted at how happy you are not to be under the mistletoe with me." Ryan narrowed his eyes playfully.

She laughed and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Does that help?"

"Not really." He winked at her. "You just gave me a brotherly peck. I now have to find someone to bolster my flagging confidence."

She watched him dance away in search for a more kissable partner.

Amanda jumped when she felt someone grasp her hand.

Ignoring her surprise, Thomas pulled her off the dance floor.

"Thomas!" She tried to make him stop. "Where are we going?"

"Out." He stopped long enough to retrieve their coats.

"What about Ryan's party?" She couldn't stop her bitterness from spilling out. "Aren't there more people you hope to find under the mistletoe?"

"I never want to see that damn plant again." He snapped, gripping her hand as they stepped into the elevator.

They kept their eyes forward, trying to ignore the couples that joined them. Kisses were given as each seemed to still be in a haze from all the mistletoe..

They escaped and stepped out onto the sidewalk, each breathing a little easier.

Their eyes met.

"I should pro--"

"Walk with me--"

They closed their mouths and simply stared at one another.

"Will you go for a walk with me?" Thomas asked. "There is something I need to discuss with you."

Amanda hoped but honestly doubted that what he wanted to talk about was the subject she had intended to talk to him about.

Feelings are such a nuisance, she thought to herself.

With a brief nod, she began to walk towards Central Park. Once inside, she quickened her pace, hoping to burn up her frustration enough to calmly hear whatever it was he wished to say.

Without a word, Thomas kept up with her. When she started to slip on an icy patch on the walkway, he swept her into his arms.

Her breath hitched as her body slid directly against his.

Their noses bumped against one another’s.

Thomas tightened his arms around her refusing to lose this one chance to have her undivided attention. He had argued with himself about cutting in the entrie time she danced with Ryan. That ridiculous party would be the last time he allowed anything to keep him from finding out if she felt as strongly as he did.

"What," her voice cracked, "what did you want to talk about?"

His lips curved somewhat at seeing she was just as affected by being close to him as he was her. "Us."

Her eyes dropped down to his lips. "Us?"

His eyes drifted down her face, pausing at her mouth. "Yes."

"Oh." She breathed the word as his head slowly dropped toward hers.

He gently captured her lips in a tender kiss.

Thomas had felt nothing with those other kisses he had been given at the party. The spark from that touch of her lips warmed him to his toes. And yet, the mere brush of her gloved hand through his hair as he moved to kiss her again caused his skin to burn.

The kiss deepened, drawing an audible gasp from both at the sensation of the other's lips.

When they parted, their eyes met.

"Thomas, I--"

"I want to--"

Amanda bit her bottom lip. "You first."

Thomas smiled softly. "I'm in love with you."

"I love you too." She smiled against his lips when he kissed her again.

A thought popped into her mind, causing her to jerk away.

"Amanda, what--"

"I better never catch you in a room that has both beautiful actresses and mistletoe." She warned him.

He chuckled while cuddling her close. "You're the only one I will ever willingly stand under mistletoe for."

Amanda sweetly sighed at that as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

When his lips drifted down her cheek, she spoke up again.

"There was a corner at Ryan's party where one sprig of mistletoe wasn't being stepped under."

"Really?" He lifted his head. "That is a pity."

"Isn't it?" Her arms looped around his neck. "All alone. Without a purpose."

"I suppose we could go back and fulfill its one mission in life." He rested his forehead against hers. "Or..."

"Or?"

"We go somewhere private and pretend the entire room is covered in mistletoe."

"Private, hmm?" Amanda stepped out of Thomas's arms. "I think I would like to try this pretending."

He wrapped his arm around her as they walked out of the park. "If you follow my lead, I think you will enjoy yourself immensely."

[cynergy-laughter]

Meet the Family: Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All!

Fanfic Series by: @cynergy-laughter

Featuring: (Defined MC) (Comedy, Fluff, Shipping, Angst) (PG-Rated)

Chapter 3: Unconvinced and Understood (2311 words)

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Diavolo was happy to greet his fellow board and his favorite exchange student today. Even though this was the Devildom’s version of Summer Vacation, there was still work to be done. Diavolo went over the typical topics, addressing the different ways to improve the Exchange program, budgets, and of course, planning events for next school term. Brendon was looking for a good time to interject, have the floor and ask his question.

“... Alright… oh, that reminds me! Brendon?” Diavolo asked, looking at Brendon with a curious smile, “I heard through the grapevine that you got a letter from the new Devildom human mail program.”

“O-Oh yes! I did. I got a letter from my family… which brings me to my question… umm… My family is going to be holding their annual family summer vacation in Kyoto, and they invited me… I wanted to go.” Brendon expressed nervously.

“Oh? Well, of course, you’re welcome to go.” Diavolo said with a smile.

“Thank you, but that’s not it… I was wondering if… I could bring Lucifer and his brothers with me to Kyoto…”

Diavolo blinked and looked at everyone. “You wanted to bring Lucifer and the entire student council? I mean, it would be good for what we are trying to accomplish here with the exchange program… but I… I don’t know if that would be a wise decision. I need my council to help reach difficult decisions with our meetings. I could probably spare one or two members, but all of them?” Diavolo bit his lip, “That and I was planning a summer vacation for them too.”

Brendon looked down, “That’s what I thought… I didn’t want to have to pick, because I think they all deserve to meet my family…”

Diavolo frowned. “I’m sorry Brendon.”

“May we put it up for discussion? I don’t have to leave until 3 days for the vacation, maybe we can find a compromise?”

“Brendon, I’ve said my case. And as well, there is a lot of paperwork to do for the students at RAD.” Diavolo shook his head, “Plus I would have to appoint temporary officials as well…”

“Well… I have a suggestion… why don’t you assign some of the members certain tasks and they can join me when they get done with them?” Brendon kept trying to push for something.

“Brendon. Two members of the council, and that is final. Now, please, you need to pack for your trip. And then you have to fill out this form so we can prepare the teleportation runes of the portal, and give you a way to travel back.” Diavolo said firmly, handing Brendon a slip of paper.

Brendon looked like he wanted to protest more, but he didn’t want to push his luck, so he resigned to the decision made, took the paper, got his stuff, and was dismissed from the meeting. Brendon didn’t even know what went on inside the student council hall, but he wasn’t concerned about that, he was concerned about who he was gonna pick. He went straight home and changed, before heading out to the shopping district. He was doing a bit of window shopping, looking for something new he could wear for Kyoto.

As he was shopping, his head was getting clouded up by the thought of who to pick. Whom could he choose? There were so many combinations and possibilities that were both good and bad… Lucifer and Satan wouldn’t be a good pairing, neither is Mammon and Levi… Beel and Belphie might be good, but at the same time, they could cause some trouble too. Asmo would be a good choice… if it wasn’t for the fact that he would be with his brothers as well as himself… All of these went on through Brendon’s mind that he didn’t even see who was walking in front of him. He had bumped into someone, and Brendon had dropped a few bags, stumbling backward a bit.

“Oh Brendon, there you are.” Satan said, leaning down and helping him pick his bags up.

“O-Oh! Satan, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you… I got a lot on my mind…” Brendon trailed off, getting some of his other bags as well.

“Don’t worry about it. I can imagine what you must be going through… you have 2 out of 7 of us to choose to go with you to Kyoto this summer.” Satan said, nodding. “But, I would just be careful and aware of your surroundings… are you finished shopping?”

“R-Right… umm no, I’m not finished yet, I was just looking around.”

“Well, why don’t we take a break? I know, let’s have lunch.” Satan smiled and led Brendon over to a cafe.

Brendon sat right across from Satan, waiting for their lunch to be served. Satan was reading while Brendon was looking around at the different shops he could see from his seat.

“Is your family good to you?” Satan asked all of a sudden, not looking up from his book.

Brendon blinked and snapped back to his company. “Umm, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Tell me about your family, are they good to you?” Satan asked again, this time closing his book, putting it safely in his messenger bag, and leaning in, charmingly sipping his tea.

“O-Oh… yeah, they’re good to me… my mom is the sweetest woman, always asking if you need anything, always there to listen to your troubles, and she gives the warmest hugs…” Brendon blushes embarrassedly, “She can be a bit pushy, sometimes invasive, but she means well.”

“Hmm… How about your brothers? Tell me about them… well first, you said you are the second youngest, right?”

Brendon nods and smiles. “Yeah, second youngest. My little brother is 22, I’m 25.”

“Hmm… what’s your little brother like?” Satan put his hand on his chin.

“Well, he’s like you, Satan; studious, intelligent, independent, but he’s pretty chill, and go-with-the-flow, like Belphie. His name’s Will.”

“Oh? Interesting… I should make sure to make myself acquainted with him.” Satan said.

“Hehe, yeah, I have this thing with my brothers, I nicknamed them after various mythological deities, it was kind of a brotherly code to piss off and confuse our dad. Will’s nickname was Thoth, the Egyptian god of wisdom, who started as a deity of the moon.” Brendon said, chuckling and giving a smile.

“Oh? I would love to know everyone’s nickname… that’s fascinating.” Satan said, and chuckled with Brendon. “You know, that’s the first time you voluntarily smiled all day. You have a wonderful smile.”

Brendon blushes and chuckled sheepishly. “Thank you… I think you have the better smile though…”

Satan shakes his head. “I would disagree, your smile makes me smile.”

Brendon and Satan laughed a bit more until their food arrived. Brendon smiled at Satan while they ate lunch. As much as Satan could be a bit of a know-it-all, and a bit destructive when he was angered, he was a good conversationalist, proper and polite to an extent. He also was mischievous, playful, and the most curious, and learned out of all the brothers. And he loved cats, which is always a plus. He really appreciated him helping to get his mind off of this choice.

After lunch, Satan and Brendon made one last trip around the shopping district before heading back to the house. Satan walked Brendon to his room before leaving with a, “See you at dinner.”

Brendon walked into his room and began to pack for the trip. He knew that he would be there for two months, so this was bound to be interesting, especially with the luggage set he bought, two huge one, one medium, and one small, as well as his backpack and messenger bag. He also made a checklist of things to do tomorrow, as well as things he would need. Suddenly, his D.D.D. pinged.

It was Leviathan.

“Hey! Brendon! I got a new game!” Levi texted

“Oh? That’s awesome, Levi!”

“... Well? What are you waiting for? Come on over to my room so we can play it!”

“Levi… I have to start packing for my trip…”

“Eh, you have 3 days til you go, come on, you deserve a break. I need my player 2.”

“... Alright, but please don’t mention the trip… the decision is still killing me…”

“Okay! As long as you get here as soon as possible!”

Brendon smiled as he got up, went out of his room, and went over to Levi’s room, saying the secret phrase and gained entry.

“Brendon! Come on, this new Last Legend Remake has two player capability!” Levi said, smiling excitedly, stars in his eyes.

“Hehe, you know, you remind me so much of one of my older brothers, I think you would like him.” Brendon said as he sat down next to Levi and took up the controller offered up to him.

“Oh? Really? Is he an Otaku like me?” Levi asked, tilting his head.

“Hehe, yeah, he’s an Otaku, he’s a streamer, but the only difference is that he isn’t as shy as you. In fact, he is always down to talk and joke. He’s kind of like Mammon and you fused together with a touch of Asmo, he also is into drag. You might have heard of him… umm… he goes by PanDionysia online.” Brendon said, but then his head shot over to Levi when he heard his controller drop.

“Y-Your older brother is… P-PanDionysia?! Y-You know what this means?! Your brother is one of the cosplaying, and streaming Legends! I’m such a huge fan! Gah! I’m so jealous! You grew up with such greatness…” Levi said, taking Brendon’s shoulders and shaking him slightly, and then stopped, and his face flushed as he realized the horrifying reality. “... And I’ve been calling you, the younger brother of PanDionysia... a normie this whole time…”

Brendon blinked and began laughing, before taking Levi’s hands off his shoulders and held them. “Levi, it’s okay… he doesn’t really mention anything about his family to the world… So you couldn’t have known… He takes his gaming seriously… but he also keeps his gaming and family life separate.” Brendon reassured, lightly squeezing his hands.

“Are you sure? I… I guess you’re right… he’s a pretty big deal in the convention scene, getting the most exclusive spots at concerts… and winning tournaments and raids in his streams… he’s so cool… I’m so jealous of him… I want to live his life…” Levi said, longing, silently sighing and biting his lip.

Brendon smiles. “Yeah, he’s a pretty cool person when you get to know him. ” Brendon looks at Levi, “...Kind of like you, except you’re more… quiet than aloof.”

Levi blushed a bit, and looked into Brendon’s eyes. “Y-You think I’m cool? Me? The Yucky Otaku… cool?”

“Oh stop, Levi, you’re not a Yucky Otaku. I mean, at least you don’t smell like stagnant body odor and corn chips” Brendon chuckled and nudged Levi.

Levi blushed a bit more at that. “I mean… before I met you… probably… but, I started being more hygienic when you started hanging out with me… I’ve never wanted to impress anyone, not until you came along…”

Brendon blinked, “You wanted to impress me?”

Levi shrugged, “I-I mean, I guess… I noticed how good you smelled, how bright your smile was… how much you liked playing games and watching anime with me… so, I began to make an effort to stop smelling and I started inviting you to play games, you make me feel like I have a best friend.”

Brendon smiles at Levi, pulled him into a hug, and gave a cheek a bit of a smooch. “I’m glad to be your best friend, Levi. I’m glad that you allowed me to be a part of your life.” Brendon said, watching Levi.exe stop working.

Levi was blushing madly as he was trying to compute what was happening. “W-WHAAA?! C-Come on, I’m still not used to the whole kissing thing! Warn me next time…” Levi babbled, but didn’t pull away, instead, leaned in closer.

Brendon held him close and stroked his hair. He knew that Levi was a bit reclusive, had niche interests in both conversation topics, and activity. He was prone to envious behavior, as well as high standards to be included in his circle of friends, as well as harsh to himself. But, he was always willing to give people a chance. He was funny, adorable, and the most passionate of his brothers, except for Asmo, but his passion was different from Levi’s passion.

“Well, let’s get to playing, I’ve been wanting to see how this compares to the original!” Brendon said, patting Levi’s back and picked his controller back up.

“O-Oh! Yeah! Definitely! I’m so excited for the continuation coming soon!” Levi said as he started the game on his player one controller.

They both played together until Mammon texted that it was time for dinner. It was a typical dinner as usual, Mammon and Levi getting into it, Satan and Asmo discussing how stupid Mammon is, and their purchases. Beel was eating everything, Belphie had finished part of his food early and gave the rest to Beel so he could fall asleep at the table, and Lucifer was as cool as always, eating his food and silently thinking about how to punish Mammon tonight, and Brendon was a bit silent, still trying to figure out who to take on his vacation.

Brendon was the one to wash dishes tonight, so he was busy scrubbing away at the kitchen utensils, cookware, silverware, plates, and glasses. He heard his D.D.D. buzz suddenly and he swiftly turned the water off and dried his hands to try and put his earbuds with the mic in the jack and answered the phone before going back to washing his dishes, “Hello? Brendon DeHallow speaking.”