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mandareeboo · 3 years

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SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not.

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me.

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky.

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster.

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs!

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly.

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong.

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

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romanianwilkinson · 3 years

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MONSTER CAMP QUOTES STARTERS

A collection of sentence starters from the game Monster Camp. Feel free to change words and pronouns as desired. CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR: Monster Prom/Monster Camp spoilers, suggestive, cursing, crude content

“ I just have it here because [NAME] insisted that I offer it, as a marketing stunt. ”

“ And lastly, super-horny-type players no longer get a charm buff against tsundere types! ”

“ War machines don’t turn me on or anything! ”

“ I don’t wanna be weird, but do you mind if I climb inside of you and play around with your main turret? ”

“ A wine to DIE for, you say? Well, darling, don’t threaten me with a good time! ”

“ This one just says ‘ hmu with that reaper dick, daddy ’. ”

“ You on your phone, as always! Probably making blogposts on your Tik Tok page. ”

“ Yeah, you really don’t want to witness a repeat of the last time [NAME]’s diehard fans went without a selfie for fifteen minutes. My tailbone still hasn’t completely healed. ”

“ Now hold still, this will only hurt for a moment --- ”

“ Yay! You found a shenanigan! ”

“ My poems all have two or three emotions in them, AT LEAST. ”

“ CRYING IS OBVIOUSLY A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN SQUEEZE THE MOST WATER OUT OF THEIR EYES! ”

“ No way, really? The way to WIN at poetry is by LOSING at life? ”

“ I dunno, maybe fall in love with someone who’s married and develop an opioid addiction? ”

“ HELL YEAH, SPEEDRUN! ”

“ It’s morbid, but... kind of romantic? ”

“ GASP! Google+? Are you kidding me? The psychopaths behind that global tragedy are here?! ”

“ Prison has changed me, [NAME]. Would you like to trade me some cigarettes in exchange for my fundamental dignity? ”

“ Undermining the laws of reality, subverting life and death, that’s the kind of stuff my followers expect. But CHEATING? No way. ”

“ Though we are imprisoned in chalk jail, we are free in our hearts. But our hearts are also imprisoned in chalk jail. ”

“ Um, no, I am NOT groveling. I am posing a dignified query to [NAME] that just so happens to be performed on my hands and knees. ”

“ I didn’t know you condoned playing the friend card to get free labor, [NAME]. ”

“ Ah, but saving the world doesn’t put avocado toast on the table. We indie seancers and necromancers need to pay our rent too, you know. ”

“ And as you know, I am illustriously Internet-famous, so if you could shower me with adoration and give me the pizza that would be fabulous. ”

“ Do you wanna fuck the pizza or not? ”

“ Are you ready to go swimming? I must admit, darling, I’ve always wondered what you would look like while... wet.”

“ Did you turn this date into an orgy without consulting me? ”

“ Gosh, I love it when you insult me! Please do it more! ”

“ Now who wants to make a baby? ”

“ What if she puts a curse on me that makes me magically forget the location of the clitoris?! ”

“ Hey, don’t knock wacky decisions that endanger us all! That’s how I always manage to stay a step ahead of my nemeses! ”

“ Oh gods, I’ve killed so many monsters, just for being monsters. This is making me question my entire moral foundation. I NEED MORE THERAPY. ”

“ I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: fish give better pedicures than people! ”

“ You’re not tricking me into parenting a stupid egg. I’ve never fucked even ONE chicken! The egg is not my son! ”

“ You came to visit me at camp, Daddy! ”

“ Don’t be ridiculous, I know your brand of horny, [NAME], and this ain’t it. ”

“ I thought we both agreed to be nothing but vague and haughtily aloof about our past dalliances. ”

“ Point EAST, compass! EAAAAAAAAST! You dumb fuckboot!!!! POINT! EAST! ”

“ One time I was told a soul’s worst fear was bugs and I inadvertantly sent The Beatles. It happens to the best of us... And the worst of us. ”

“ SOMEDAY I SHALL DEFEAT YOUR FIVE STRANGE FEET! ”

“ Why do you keep suppressing your monster half? Embrace your true nature! ”

“ Wow. I didn't think this was possible, but I guess I was... wrong? About social media? Oh dear God, is this how grandparents feel?!?! Am I a GRANDPARENT?! ”

“ I don’t know! I was relying on my friends to cover up my bold and idiotic statement! ”

“ ... I ate the oars. ”

“ PSYCHE. The ocean can eat my ass. ”

“ So pucker up, [NAME]! I'm about to declare mouth war on your FACE! ”

“ YOU FOOLISHLY FOOLISH FOOL! You're showing our inexperience! YOUR HONOR, THE ENTIRE LEGAL TEAM PLEADS THE FIFTH! ”

“ That's right. I'm talking about a classic Transylvania Hot Tub, a Seth Brundle, and a REVERSE Reverse Romanian Wilkinson. ”

“ Sorry, I was in your ribcage seeing if I could use it to cut strips of crepe paper into confetti and then I got lost in your kidneys. ”

“ There's nothing sexier than a doomed romance between a dating sim player and a hot fictional character. ”

“ That's right! I secretly replaced one of you with a bear while no one was looking, to teach you a valuable lesson about the art of disguise! ”

“ Enchant my armor. I’m going into the lake. ”

“ For VIOLENCE REASONS! ”

“ This stupid lake monster called me short the other day, but I was too low level to crush him like he deserved. ”

“ That dumb wet dinkhole won't know what hit him! But it will be me! I will hit him! ”

“ No, YOU'RE a fuckshark! Also, what does that even mean?! ”

“ You seriously didn't notice the enormous needles those interns jabbed into your veins as soon as [NAME] got here? “

“ It all makes sense! The Camp Dome is just an elaborate ploy to distract us from the giant mouth that eats campers! “

“ This is the BEST show I've ever seen in my life, which is now at an end! “

“ Am I high, or did he just tell us EXACTLY how to foil his evil scheme? “

“ What, like a few severed heads and visions of my grandpa screaming in horrendous pain are gonna freak me out? Where I'm from, you can buy that stuff at IKEA. “

“ ERROR: Due to the sixth mass extinction, the slaying of leprechauns is inadvisable. “

“ Then why do I have half-finished scarves, decoupage, pot-holders, friendship bracelets, and a taxidermied rabbit in my skeleton? “

“ The wang elemental. ”

“ I also have an uncle who works at Nintendo as a copy machine! “

“ What flavor of ice cream AM I?! Now I gotta know. HA! You know what I should be? 'Pistachio.' Because my outside is HARD, but I'm full of NUT. “

“ I mean, life is a bit like... this sandwich! No, stay with me, I'm going somewhere good with this. “

“ A survival situation without any sexy fun time isn't worth surviving in the first place. “

“ Rut the RUCK?! ”

“ The ' ambulance of the heart ' is just a regular ambulance! Ambulances treat all organs! ”

“ Yeah, that's why I made sure that my so-called ' emotional armor ' was also ' actual armor '. “

“ And being yourself is the key to living your dreams, which is the key to self actualization, which is the key to being really good at sex! “

“ So hot I'd buy that even without free shipping. 10/10, call me some time. “

“ Hi, quick question: does it count as kidnapping if I'm abducting you so you can help me do a thing you already agreed to help with? “

“ I could be wrong, but are you just upset because you DON'T have a skeleton that's inside your body? “

“ I'm gonna get SO FUCKING RELAXED MY HEAD WILL EXPLODE! “

“ Whoah, whoa, hold up. You're fucking my grandma? “

“ No, [NAME], that is a popcorn bag full of more dynamite. Put it down. “

“ I hear that at least 70% of people on Patreon aren't murderers! “

“ If you want cash, just rob banks like the rest of us! “

“ Did it work? Do you feel any less horny? ”

“ FUCK YEAH, LET'S PUNCH THAT MOUTH IN ITS MOUTH! “

“ Yes... incidentally, we are no longer allowed to enter Italy. “

“ Is anyone else turned on right now? ”

“ Yes! Yes! I know what you're feeling! I suddenly see how marrying a corpse isn't okay! “

“ JUST LET ME IMPROVE YOUR SELF ESTEEM, MORTAL! “

“ Look, choose whatever you want, but I'm not responsible for whatever you put in your mouth. ”

#rp starters #rp sentence starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp meme #ask meme #rp ask meme #monster prom #monster camp #monster prom rp #monster prom roleplay #monster camp rp #monster camp roleplay #mine

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odinsblog · 3 years

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[Re: this post]

OMFG do the the people who use the, “by saying x, you’re just as bad as them” arguments understand just how foolishly idiotic they sound?

Look, if anyone thinks that calling antivaxxers and anti maskers “Darwin award” contestants makes me “just as bad” as a Trump supporter, then they need to get off the internet and maybe go out into the real fucking world.

Ordinarily I’d just block & forget about asinine comments like this, but this kind of childlike morality is as widespread as it is harmful.

Just for clarity’s sake, let’s recap: by and large, majorities of Trump supporters are endangering others, they are refusing to get vaccinated, they are refusing to wear masks, they are refusing to socially distance in crowds, they are rabidly pro-police, deeply racist, and they routinely support/vote for racists, misogynists, Islamophobes, and much worse ….. got all that?

Now on the other hand, by simply using “mean” words against the people who intentionally, directly and indirectly, make life for me—a Black man in America—increasingly dangerous year after year after year,… by calling them Darwin Award losers, I have somehow become a de facto Trump supporter, and also a fascist. Do I have that right??

Like, there is sO much more that I could say, but I’m not tryna write a book here.

It’s just such trash reasoning. And it shows more compassion for willfully ignorant Trump supporters than it shows for the people who they target with their hateful actions , votes, and legislation.

#shindigger #false equivalencies #gtfohwtbs

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Your Heart

Chapter 5 -- Research

Word Count: 12429

READ ON AO3

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Tucker complained for the umpteenth time.

After realising the only way to end his regular meetings with Lady Arcana once and for all would be finding information on the portals she could use to help him close them, Danny took a very-Jazz-like decision; to immerse himself in countless moldy, old books in search for answers.

Only he dragged Tucker and his sister along to put an end to the torture sooner. A decision which, whereas Jazz encouraged wholeheartedly, Tucker was none too pleased with.

“Oh, quit your whining, Tucker.” Jazz admonished from the floor, a few volumes piled up around her. “Every time you complain, it’s precious time we’re wasting. Maybe I don’t mind being holed up here reading with you, but something tells me you’d much rather be tinkering with your PDA than doing this.”

Annoyed by Jazz’s accurate observation, Tucker, who was lying down on his bed, set the book he was reading down on his lap. “I’m just saying, a quick Internet search would give us many more results in a matter of seconds. If you’re worried about wasting time, then I think spending hours scanning for even the smallest piece of witch-related trivia is ten times more time-consuming.”

But Jazz wasn’t going to relent any time soon. “We already tried things your way, Tucker. Remind me again how much useful information we found online?” When her question was met by silence, she smirked, focusing again on the book she had open on the floor in front of her. “Thought so.”

“Okay, so the first few results were all about conspiratorial nutcases claiming the witches are actually aliens from a faraway galaxy and that what we call ‘magic’ is really superior technology our tiny, human minds can’t understand,” he paused to breathe, “but those were just the first few articles! I’m sure if we keep on looking, we’ll find something useful.”

“Do I really have to remind you that the most useful thing we found was a Satanist group’s website? I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly looking forward to joining them anytime soon.”

Leaning back against his bed’s headboard, the techno geek crossed his arms, feeling defensive. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Will you two just stop?” Danny finally had enough. He slammed the book he’d been reading shut before setting it down on his desk, where his own pile of books lay. Leaning back on his chair, one leg over his knee, he crossed his arms as he sent a stern look at his sister and best friend; the kind of look a father would give when scolding his misbehaving children.

Even though they had legitimate reasons to be cranky at each other, a selfish part of him thought the only one who could really act out of line was him. Tucker and Jazz tended to forget what really was on the line. True; if they didn’t find a solution to the random ghost portals soon, that could lead to severe repercussions on both dimensions, and dealing with Lady Arcana was both dangerous and nerve-racking in every sense of the word.

But the real danger came from within.

Although Danny had tried to limit their use as much as possible, the Witch Queen’s presence demanded he wore the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire in hopes of forcing the sorceress to think twice before double-crossing them. But the mere use of the two mystical items was far more terrifying than anything the entire witch clan could have thrown at him.

There was something inherently...evil encased in the ring and crown. Danny was sure of it. Damn, he could feel it with every fiber of his being. Even before donning the all-powerful objects for the first time during his coronation, the moment he held them after stripping them off of Pariah Dark’s form, they were already calling out to him.

And the most horrifying thing was that he wanted to heed their call. The relics promised infinite power to whoever was in possession of them. When, ironically, the dreaded things took possession of their wearer! After a brief moment of doubt where he almost fell into temptation and gave in, Danny understood wearing the ring and crown meant the total enslavement of his soul.

Ever since then, he lived in fear of succumbing to temptation and letting their sinister energy consume him. Whenever he had no choice but to wear the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, Danny found himself fighting an uphill battle against the hypnotising pull of power emanating from them. It was more tempting than using his powers to get back at Dash for all the wedgies. It was more inviting than dating Valerie, regardless of the very real possibility of dying by her hand. It was more dangerous than accepting to work with Vlad, who foolishly coveted the very same torture he endured every time he put those two horrid artefacts on.

Because it was a literal deal with the devil; power in exchange of his soul.

And to think he had to endure all that every time he met up with the queen of the two-faced creatures responsible for such evil in the first place, just to convince her against doing anything foolish...It was irony at its finest.

With gentle spins of his chair, Danny kept looking alternatively at Tucker and Jazz, who were blissfully unaware of his inner musings, as he talked to each of them. First was Tucker. “Tuck, I know you’ve considered books a waste of time ever since we plugged you into the Cramtastic Mark 5 to break Ember’s spell, and I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but Jazz’s brought all these books from the library and we need as much information as possible.”

He then turned to his sister, who was laid facing down on the floor. “Jazz, same thing goes for you. Except the ‘book-hating' part,” he hastily added, “you know as well as I do that if there’s someone who can find anything on the Internet, it's Tucker. Just, give him time.”

His two teammates exchanged glances before giving up with an eye roll. “Whatever,” they said in unison before getting back to reading.

Danny wasn’t quite finished, though. “There’s also the fact that I’m not even sure we’ll find anything useful in the first place. I mean, what Lady Arcana needs is either an explanation on what’s causing the portals to manifest, or a spell that can counter it. And I highly doubt we’ll find that sort of information in books from the public library.”

“Maybe if they were from Hogwarts…” Tucker snickered at his own joke. When he noticed the twin glare the siblings were sending him, he sobered up. “Sorry.”

Jazz rolled her eyes as she changed her position from lying down to sitting up, cross-legged. “That doesn’t mean we won’t find anything useful, Danny. If anything, just learning more about the witches should be of help when dealing with them, right?”

The halfa sighed. “In theory. But Tucker’s right; we’ve been reading for hours and we haven’t found anything useful, or even that we didn’t already know of.”

“Thank you!” Tucker deadpanned as he clapped his hands sarcastically.

Danny ignored him in favour of continuing. “I mean, what’s to learn about them? Their background is completely irrelevant to the issue at hand. Knowing of the Salem trials isn’t going to help me prevent disaster from happening!”

“And don’t forget we don’t even know how to tell true facts apart from naysay.” Tucker pointed out, a finger raised in the air as if that’d give more credibility to his point.

But Jazz insisted. “All the more reason to find out more about them! For instance, Danny, what did you know about witches before meeting this Lady Arcana?”

Her brother gave a noncommittal shrug. “Only what Frostbite told me and what I read in the pages I found from Sojourn’s missing journalーand no, I’m not going to let you read them, Jazz; it’s too dangerous. Besides, I don’t even have them anymore,” he was quick to add, recognising the inquisitive look on his sister’s face all too well.

Annoyed at how well her brother knew her, and at Tucker’s ill-concealed snickers, the aspiring psychologist turned her head away in a huff. “Fine, keep your sister away from fascinating topics. It’s not like I’ve been keeping your secret for years; even from you.” She punctuated with a meaningful look.

If the look on Danny’s face was any indication, they’d had that same conversation too many times before. “Jazz, careful; you know emotionally blackmailing me will get you nowhere. It’ll make me want to keep more things away from you.”

The redhead stood up and got closer to him. With her arms crossed, she used her brother’s seated position to tower over him for once, since she had long lost the ability to look over his shoulder once Danny finally hit his growth spurt. “And you know trying to play hero and keep me away is going to solve nothing. If anything, it’s only going to make me want to help you even more.”

Watching the siblings from the comfortable distance his bed provided him, Tucker knew things would only get nasty if he let the tension escalate from there. He let out a wolf whistle, effectively capturing the Fenton kids' attention. “Wow. You know you two spend too much time together when you start using the other’s methods to get what you want.”

Danny and Jazz furrowed their brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” They asked in unison.

Changing his position so his back was resting against his wall rather than his bed, which also allowed him to easily look them both in the eye, their friend just shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t going to say anything else; their attention was no longer directed at each other and that was enough. “Nothing. Hey, how about a break?”

“A break?” Danny echoed, incredulous. “Didn’t we just argue about wasting time? Tuck, we can’t take a break now!”

Seeing where Tucker was getting at, and that he had a very good point, Jazz sighed. Turning to Danny, she put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Tucker is right. We’ve been at it for a few hours now. We’d better take a breather and continue later, when our minds are sharper.”

Danny was about to protest when he noticed their matching expressions. They were both tired after doing nothing but searching for clues for hours and bickering with each other. If anyone deserved a break, it was them. And as his own exhaustion finally kicked in, he realised, so did he.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s stop for a while.”

Satisfied, Jazz gave her little brother some space as she flopped down on his bed. “So, Tuck.” When his head snapped at the sound of her voice calling his name, she continued. “How’s your latest lady friend doing?”

It took the African American young man a moment to understand who she was talking about. “You mean Camille?”

“If that’s her name, then yes.”

“Oh, we don’t hang out anymore.”

“What?” Jazz gasped. “Why?”

Tucker looked at her uneasily. Danny, on his part, remained quiet, just listening to their conversation. “Uh, no offence, Jazz but...I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with my best friend’s sister; close as we may be.”

That made her frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just...there’s things you don’t talk about with just anyone. And what happens between you and the people you choose to fool around with is one of them. I mean, how would you feel if my mum tried meddling into your love life?”

She just made a derisive sound at the back of her throat. “Excuse me? That is completely different!”

“It is not!”

“Oh, really?” Jazz put her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised. “Please. Tucker, I’m Danny’s older sister, not our mother! Moreso, I’m the eldest by two years,” she put two fingers up to stress her point, “it’s not like I babysat you or cleaned your diapers. It can’t be that embarrassing!”

Refusing to say any more, Tucker just fell backwards on his bed, arms crossed. From his chair, Danny could only roll his eyes good-naturedly at their banter.

After a beat of silence, Jazz tried again. “Was it your issues with commitment? Did she want more but you got scared?”

Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then, he turned to his best friend. “You can intervene whenever you like, you know?”

Danny just leaned back on his chair, his arms folded behind his head and an easy grin on his face. “Nah, I’m good.”

Abruptly getting up from his bed, unamused, Tucker walked over to his desk and turned his computer on. His back turned to the Fenton siblings, he started fidgeting with a program he’d just opened. He had no idea what to do with it, but he figured it’d be better than Jazz butting in on his love life.

“So...is that it?” she ventured hopefully.

Groaning loudly, he rubbed his eyes before fully facing the current thorn in his side. “Has it ever crossed your mind that the reason why I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with you is because you’re going to try and psychoanalyse me?” Seeing as there was no reply, Tucker took it as a sign that she’d finally let it go, so he turned to face the screen.

...only to hear her whisper to Danny. “How much on them having trouble in bed?”

His face burning hot in embarrassment, Tucker slammed his head against the desk, startling the two other people in the room. At least Danny would never betray him, would he? No, he wouldn’t. It totally went against, like, fifty rules in the Bro Code.

Unfortunately, Danny was having far too much fun seeing Tucker squirm under Jazz’s scrutinising, psychological curiosity. “Well, from what I’ve heard…”

Oh, no! No way in Hell was that traitor selling him out like that! If Danny wanted war, he’d give him war, Bro Code be damned! Getting up with startling speed, Tucker yelled loud enough to drown Danny’s voice out. “Danny’s met a girl!”

Both siblings blinked slowly at him before simultaneously screeching, “What!?” Although it was impossible to tell which of the two was more bewildered by the revelation.

In an instant, Jazz was on her brother like a vulpture on an animal carcass. “Danny, is that true? You have a girlfriend?” Suddenly, she looked much more offended than dumbfounded. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“No!” he quickly denied, before all but flying from his chair and going over to his so-called best friend to smack him on the arm. Hard. “Tucker, what the fuck?!”

“Language!” Jazz admonished.

“Where did you get the idea that I got a girlfriend? What, you’ve listened to me talking about how I fear for my life whenever I’m in the same room as the short-tempered, curse-inducing, infuriating Queen of the Witches of Amity Park and you obviously thought, Oh, man. That’s true love right there and then?!”

“Well, that definitely didn’t stop you from crushing on Valerie back in high school…” Jazz pointed out meekly.

Seeing Danny’s eyes glow green for a fraction of a second was enough to make Tucker sweat bullets. “Jazz, you’re not helping!” He squeaked. “And, dude, you’re freaking me out a little with the way you’re burning holes in my skull. At this point, I really wouldn’t put it past you to have suddenly developed heat-vision or something…”

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Danny finally got out of his best friend’s personal space. He was still pissed, though. “Talk.”

Straightening his clothes, Tucker rolled his eyes. “My, aren’t you sensitive today.”

“Well, duh! You just said I have a girlfriend! Could you be so kind as to tell me who so I don’t forget our anniversary or, I don’t know, her face!?”

The techno geek made a ‘pfft’ sound with his mouth, shrugging the notion off with a motion of his hand. “I never said you had a girlfriend. My exact words were ‘Danny’s met a girl.’ If you two are too obsessed with your love life to pay close attention to what other people say, that’s not my problem.”

“Okay, so who’s this girl?” Jazz asked, still curious.

“Yes, please, enlighten us, oh, King Tuck.” Danny quipped sarcastically.

Tucker frowned, not appreciating the quip at his past mistake, but he spoke nonetheless. “Dude, it 's Sam.”

There was a beat of silence where brother and sister just stared at him before Danny whispered, shell-shocked, “Sam?”

Jazz, on her part, was both shocked and confused. “Wait, who’s Sam?”

He would’ve smacked him right then and there if it weren’t for his best friend having ghost powers he could blast him with. “Well, duh! Dude, have you or have you not met a girl named Sam recently? Because, I’m warning you, if you thought she was a guy, I’m telling on you. I don’t care if she beats your ass; you’d deserve it.”

“Ooh! A girl capable of kicking my baby brother's butt? Now I gotta know who she is! Also, Tucker, language.” The aqua-eyed girl half-heartedly scolded him, before her expression turned into a pensive one as she redirected her gaze to Danny “...are you sure you don’t have a type, though?”

“Sam and Valerie are nothing alike!” Danny exclaimed, throwing his arms up at his sides. Then he turned to Tucker, his hands now curled into fists out of sheer annoyance. “And of course I know she’s a girl. I just don’t understand how on Earth you’d come to the conclusion that I’m into her or something.”

Not for the first time, Tucker rolled his eyes before getting up from his chair and draping his arm around Danny’s shoulders. “And, again, I never said you were. I just said you’d met a girl…” Danny didn’t like that mischievous glint in his eyes one bit. “It just so happens I know you two enough to know you’d immediately assume I was talking about a lady friend, which would then make you forget all about moi.” Tucker explained with a cheeky grin. “And, lo and behold, it worked!”

Danny narrowed his eyes on him. He hated it when Tucker used their everlasting friendship to play him like a violin. Jazz, on the other hand, hated having her queries ignored. Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice to deafening levels. “Hello? Can anyone tell me who this ‘Sam’ is?”

“Agh!” Both halfa and techno geek exclaimed, taken aback. Nursing his ear, the youngest Fenton glared at his sister. “You're louder than my Ghostly Wail, you know that?”

“I can attest to that.” Tucker muttered, equally annoyed.

Both sighed in defeat when Jazz limited herself to arching an eyebrow at them with her hands, curled into fists at her sides, stubborn as ever to get her answers. “Jazz, it’s no big deal. Sam is just a friend of Tucker’s who knows an awful lot about the occult and such. He thinks she might be able to help me with you-know-who.” He explained as he sat down on his bed next to her, Tucker following suit.

“Wait, Tucker is friends with a girl that’s not me?”

The aforementioned boy took offence at that. “Is it really that weird to see me hanging out with a girl because we’re friends and nothing more?”

The Fenton kids just stared at him blankly. “Dude, you literally hit on anything with a skirt. Remember the drag queen?”

The techno geek spluttered at that, while Jazz couldn’t help but chortle. “Dude, you promised to never bring that up again!”

Danny only chuckled at his best friend’s flushed face. “I don’t think you’re in any position to complain, Tuck. After all, you did break that poor queen’s heart...”

“Why, you!” Face burning hot in embarrassment, Tucker threw himself at Danny, ready to strangle him, ability to blast him to smithereens be damned! His own body reacting instinctively, Danny lay down on his back as he grabbed his best friend’s wrists. The two would’ve started roughhousing hadn’t it been for Jazz getting caught in between.

“Hey! Stop it you two!” With a superhuman strength that could only be attributed to an older sibling separating her little brothers, Jazz shoved Tucker off of Danny, while she kept the latter down with a hand on his chest. A few minutes passed before the two calmed down. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to Tucker, trying to keep the original conversation going. “So this Sam could be of help?”

Willing his own breath to steady, Tucker nodded. “Yeah. Sam’s a Goth, so she’s very interested in all that. In fact, she’s been of help before.”

Danny’s interest perked at that. “What do you mean?”

“Remember when I’d come up with a solution to defeat certain ghosts this past year? Like Medusa, or that giant Hydra, and such? That was all Sam!”

“Now that you mention it, it did take me by surprise that you’d suddenly know what a hydra even is…”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence…” he quipped, before shaking his head to keep himself focused. “Anyway, whenever those ghosts appeared, I’d remember Sam talking about her latest mythology-related acquisition she bought from her favourite bookstore. So I just called her up, used the very convenient ghost in case to ask about its weakness and, ta-da! You’d have your way to beat them!” He exclaimed, proudly puffing up his chest. After a moment, he deflated, another thought in his mind. “The only creature she never told me about are unicorns, though. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it throws off her entire dark, cynical persona.” Jazz guessed. Becoming Goth was a common coping mechanism for when people lost someone dear. For all she knew, this Sam could’ve lost a loved one and abandoned all things traditionally cute and girly as a way to put up a strong, undaunted façade, constantly exposing herself to the darker side of life in an attempt to grow desensitised to such things.

“Maybe,” the bespectacled young man shrugged, “but if you ever meet her, don’t go around saying things like that. Somehow, I doubt she’d appreciate having her entire identity picked out and analysed.”

As Tucker and Jazz kept on bantering with each other, Danny’s thoughts were elsewhere. If what Tucker was saying was true and Sam had indeed marked the difference between victory and defeat during those ghost attacks, then it really would be better to have her by his side.

Despite his years fighting ghosts and what he’d learned from Frostbite, his knowledge was limited to the Ghost Zone, which was why the presence of mythological or legendary ghosts tended to demand more of him than, say, facing off against Technus, or Johnny 13. Magical artefacts and abilities fell under that category, as well.

Aside from the lack of portal-creating and visits to the Ghost Zone, the witches, on the contrary, seemed to be knowledgeable of ghosts. And that put him at a clear disadvantage he couldn’t afford. But if Sam also happened to know about witches, maybe even partake in rituals for the sake of it, then having her near would be for the best. He would only have to make sure to keep a close eye on her in case the witches found out and went after her in retaliation.

And also, deep down, he was sort of looking forward to meeting her again.

...............

The seemingly never ending corridors were doing nothing to alleviate her already suffering nerves. Despite the velvet-carpeted floor that would other times muffle her heavy steps, she now felt as if every step she took resonated throughout the manor like the screeching tiles of a wooden floor. From the rich, maroon walls were hanging the portraits of every astounding witch their clan had ever witnessed; from queens and Council members, to especially adept sorceresses or even heroines who had saved their sisters one way or another. All those women she usually looked up to for guidance in difficult times now seemed to be silently judging her with their cold, unforgiving eyes.

She walked in complete silence, afraid to disturb the peace if she were to utter a word. After discovering the grimoire she used to travel to the Ghost Zone wouldn’t be of any help in her mission, Sam was blindly following the beginning of a hunch; the spark of an idea whose outcome she still knew nothing of. But, even if she wasn’t sure what she was looking for, it was all she had.

Sam had no choice but to follow that inkling.

Hurriedly trying to keep up with her, Star and Paulina were close behind. Once again, their position within their Queen’s inner circle allowed them to understand Sam’s thought process better than most. Only they knew the true reason behind the Queen’s unprompted visit to their clan’s archives.

“Your Majesty, what do you expect to find inside thー?” Before Star could so much as finish her question, Sam interrupted her.

“Indeed, Star. I would appreciate a warm bubble bath with deadly nightshade leaves.” The queen said, not even stopping to look back at her ladies-in-waiting.

To any other person, that cryptic message would have meant nothing but the typical request one would expect a queen to ask her personal maids of. But Paulina and Star knew better. Asking for deadly nightshade was Sam’s way of telling them to keep whatever she was up to a secret. By asking Star for a deadly nightshade bubble bath, she was instructing them that absolutely no one should find out about the true reason behind her visit to the archives.

Exchanging knowing glances with Paulina, the blonde lowered her head slightly, fully aware that her Queen was watching her from the corner of her eye. “Yes, your Majesty.”

And with that everything that had to be said was shared between them.

Time was of the essence.

Aside from the evident danger she faced every time she travelled to the Infinite Realms, there was the added possibility of being spotted by humans, regardless of how far away from civilization their meeting spot was. If anyone ever took notice of the three mysterious figures fraternising with ghosts, Amity Park’s greatest known threat, questions would soon arise.

And whenever humans had questions, they turned to the so-called experts on the matter for help. While Sam wasn’t sure those incompetent Guys In White even suspected their existence, she still wouldn’t put it past them to investigate for the sake of burning tax money in some new toys. Those greedy, government puppets… Worst of all, if they took a genuine interest in her kind, they might as well be done for, and not necessarily because the GIW were good at their job…

If word got out that witches were real and living among them, the citizens could get scared. And whenever humans got scared, especially if it was of things they couldn’t quite explain or understand, that fear turned into aggression. If they kept wasting any more time, one day she’d open her door to find herself face to face with an angry mob.

And to think it’d all be because of a group of incompentent ghost hunters who couldn’t even drive away the very same treacherous creatures responsible for her people’s need for secrecy in the first place...it was irony at its finest.

However, despite the spike of anxiety in her chest, Sam couldn’t help but go back to her last visit to the Ghost Zone. Phantom’s attempts at dissipating the tension had been, as much as she hated to admit it, a welcomed thing. And yet, it was a little unnerving to learn the Ghost King shared her views on formality and the power of intimacy, because it made him look more human than she would ever be comfortable with.

In all fairness, it was difficult to imagine Phantom talking like anything but his usual, cocky self in the first place. From what little exchanges the news broadcasts had been able to catch on camera during the years, the white-haired spirit tended to get overly familiar with his opponents, getting under their skin with puns or witty comebacks thrown at their expense. Still, as unusual as it was, Sam couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, it would’ve been better to keep on using their respective honorifics. Because Phantom addressing her like he would any other misbehaving ghost, like she’d seen him do dozens of times over the years, somehow made it all the more...real. She truly was talking to the infamous Ghost King on her own volition.

That thought alone scared her more than she’d ever be willing to admit.

Before Sam could dwell on the matter any longer, a grating, shrill voice snapped her out of her thoughts. A voice she knew all too well and would do just about anything to never hear again unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Sammy-kins!”

Stopping in her tracks, eye twitching in annoyance, the lavender-eyed girl forced a smile to materialise on her face as she slowly turned around to face the mother of all monsters. Her own. “Hello, Mother.” She forced out.

Pamela Manson was an average witch; the only thing stellar about her was her ability to distract humans with her lavish parties and over-the-top socialite persona. A woman obsessed with social status and appearances, Sam’s mother constantly got on her case due to her own disregard for the very things Pamela lived for.

Mother and daughter were opposites in almost every aspect.

Whereas Sam prided herself in her individuality and ability to go unnoticed unless she truly wished to make her presence known, Pamela was obsessed with blending in a way that would always draw all eyes to her.

Sam believed in standing up for a change, without fear of taking big steps as long as they led her to a better world. Pamela considered things to be fine as they were, and that the only changes that should be implemented were small, insignificant ones; such as her daughter’s fashion sense.

While Sam was a rather cynical individual who still cared about everyone deep down, her mother was preppy and optimistic, but her aspirations were limited to what could benefit her and her family.

But what truly set them apart was Sam’s insistence on being inconspicuous to the human eye; her coven’s anonymity her top priority. As opposed to Pamela who, had she been queen, would’ve accidentally exposed their secrets in her first week after being crowned; tops.

In all fairness, it wasn’t that Pamela didn’t care for their clan; it was just that she couldn’t resist flaunting what, she believed, made her better than everyone else.

And, right now, she believed her daughter’s manners could be much better. “What’s with the cold greeting, Sammy-kins? We haven’t seen much of each other in over a week and that’s how you treat me?”

On second thought, Sam much preferred her chances against an angry mob over spending five minutes in the same room as her mother. “Sorry, Mother, but you caught me in the middle of something important and…”

“What could possibly be more important than what I’m about to tell you?” Pamela questioned, her hands on her hips.

“Perhaps finding a way to save two dimensions or, at the very least, our people, but you’re right, Mum, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”, was what the raven-haired witch wished she could’ve said, but instead she opted for, “And what is it that you have to tell me?”

Instead of answering her daughter, however, Pamela directed an expectant look at her two ladies-in-waiting who, upon noticing her steely glare on them, immediately straightened up before lowering their heads in submission. “Greetings, your Ladyship.” Paulina and Star droned, their heads low.

Although Pamela was never queen herself, as mother of the current leader of the clan she was to be regarded with respect. A fact the woman would constantly revel in and fully take advantage of. Smiling in contentment, she sighed. “Ah, much better. Now, Sammy-kins, I was thinking we could take some time away from your schedule to have a little chat on your wardrobe choices?”

Ugh, not that again. Ignoring her mother’s offended gasp, Sam turned on her heel to make her way, once again, to her original destination. Star and Paulina hurrying up to leave ‘her Ladyship’ behind and keep up with their queen after flashing her mother a pair of matching sheepish smiles

Unfortunately, the one thing Sam seemed to have inherited from her mother was her stubbornness. Quickening her own pace, the clicking of her high heels behind her haunting Sam even in her dreams, Pamela caught up with them in a surprisingly short amount of time. Having no choice but to breathlessly talk to her daughter at the same time as she tried keeping up with her would not be enough to get her to give up on her pursuit.

“Seeing as we have much more important matters to discuss, I shall gracefully ignore your previous insolence.” Luckily for Sam, her mother missed the way she rolled her eyes at her. “I know this...Gore style of yoursー.”

“It’s ‘Goth’, Mother…” Sam corrected her, but her efforts fell on deaf ears.

“ーis just your way of rebelling against the world because things don’t go your way, but don’t you think enough is enough? You’ve been dressing like a mortician since you were twelve!”

“If you’re done patronising me and the way I choose to present myself to the worldーwhich, not only have you insulted in every possible way but, allow me to remind you, is not just a phaseー, I really do have more important matters to attend to.”

And with that, she sped up past her mother. It should’ve been the end of that conversation, but Pamela always had to have the last word. “But what about the clan? Don’t you think it’s selfish to compromise us like that?”

That stopped the Witch Queen dead in her tracks, the unexpected stop causing Paulina and Star to tumble back a few steps. Once they registered what Pamela had said, their blood ran cold; the stiffness in Sam’s posture only confirmed their unspoken fears:

Sam’s mother had just crossed a line.

Fists clenched so tightly at her sides she could’ve drawn blood, her teeth gritting in aggravation, Sam hissed, not even turning around to face her mother. “What did you just say?”

Brushing her daughter’s anger off as just another tantrum, Pamela calmly walked over to where she stood, looking over her handmaidens’ shoulders. Resting a palm on Sam’s shoulder, a hand that, although meant as comforting, came out as condescending, mocking; the older witch spoke up. “I’m just saying, you’re always advocating for our anonymity, yet you seem to ignore that people will immediately associate your obvious, stereotypically witchy outfits with real-life witchcraft. All that black and those dark colours, the ripped fabric, the metal ornaments… Sammy, don’t you see? That’s like wearing a sign saying ‘I’m a witch! Come and lynch me!’”

Taking advantage of her turned face, Sam narrowed her eyes on her mother. She dressed like a WASP housewife from the 50’s when she was a Jewish woman living in the 21st centuryーshe was in absolutely no position to criticise her looks!

How dare she? How dare she?! Using her duty to protect her people against her just to get her to wear some frilly abomination because she couldn’t fathom the idea that her daughter would want to be her own person?

It was moments like these that Sam missed Grandma Ida the most. Her grandma would’ve guided her in her darkest hours, giving her useful advice to approach the situation, but never making decisions for her, letting her live and learn instead! Grandma Ida would’ve never tried to use her to push some personal agenda on the clan.

But Grandma Ida was gone, and Pamela was there to stay.

As insulted and, although she’d never let it show, hurt as Sam was, going to the archives took priority. Stowing her conversation with her mother for another time as she resumed her march down the hallsーpreferably when she’d be alone in her roomーSam shrugged her off the best way she knew; through biting sarcasm. “Oh, please. If I were nearly as ‘obvious’ or ‘stereotypically witchy’ as you say, Mother, I’d decorate this place after the Sedlec Ossuary.”

Pamela furrowed her brow in confusion as she, too, resumed her walk. “What does that even mean?”

“She’s talking about a Czech chapel fully decorated with bones and skulls.” Star helpfully supplied.

Paulina, on the contrary, shuddered in disgust. “Ugh, I’d rather not. I’d feel like I’m always being watched…”

Star tilted her head to the side. “How? Skulls don’t have eyes.”

Ignoring the handmaidens, Pamela opened up her mouth to speak when a raised hand from her daughter, who had abruptly halted, stopped her from even getting a word in. “As lovely as catching up with you has been, Mother,” Sam started, voice laced with sarcasm, “I’m afraid I must go. I have important matters to attend to, as I already told you, that I must take care of, in private.” She stressed before turning the doorknob of the large door before her and walking inside, swiftly letting her bewildered mother out after she all but slammed the door shut in her face.

Leaning her back against the door, Sam let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. No matter how much time passed, her mother would always be a she-demon worse than any ghost. God forbid Phantom ever met her; if he were to take a page out of her book, Sam would personally burn herself at the stake.

“Is Pamela too much for you?” A sultry voice coaxed her out of her thoughts.

Opening up her eyes, Sam could feel the relieved smile forming on her face at the sight of the witch she most wanted to see at the moment. “Delilah.” She breathed out as she separated herself from the door, walking over to her friend to grab her hands in hers. “You have no idea.” Sighing dramatically, she let her head fall on the crook of the shapeshifter’s shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, I don’t need to.” She said, gently patting her queen’s head. “Just by looking at you I can tell; you look like you’ve suddenly lost ten years of your life!”

“Make that twenty,” Sam grumbled.

Separating herself from her leader, their hands still holding each other, the turquoise-eyed sorceress got to the point. “Well, what brings you here? As much as I love your visits, I thought you’d be busy with your little escapes to the Ghost Zone?”

Sam averted her gaze, the wooden floor suddenly much more interesting than a few seconds ago. “It’s precisely because of that that I’m here.”

“Oh?” Delilah tilted her head, slightly. “Okay...So, what are you here for, then?”

To her bewilderment, her queen’s eyes continuously darted from one place to another, as if expecting to be ambushed any minute now. “Are we alone?”

An odd question, but not necessarily a bad one. Putting her fingers on her chin in thought, the Council member tried to remember if she’d seen anyone that day. “Hm, I think Stephanie might be somewhere around here, engrossed in a book. But you know her, it’d be easier to get me to leave the archives than not seeing that girl with her nose deep in a book.”

Stephanie was probably with them. That was not a bad thing. Stephanie ought to find out sooner or later. Wringing her hands nervously, Sam willed her eyes to look at Delilah’s own curious turquoise ones. “I need your help with something.”

That caught her attention. “My help?” Sam nodded. “My, Sam, you’re starting to worry me.” Delilah admitted as she got closer to the Goth, her hand hovering over her shoulder but never close enough to actually rest atop of it, afraid that the sudden contact would startle her. It was unusual to see her so suspicious of everything around her. Maybe… “Did the ghosts do anything? Are we going to war?”

That seemed to snap the younger witch out of whatever she was going through. She didn’t lower her guard, though. “No, no. We’re not going to war.” She shook her head as she let Delilah gently guide her to another section of the archives. “But in order to avoid just that I might need to do something crazy…”

Delilah wrinkled her nose at that. “Something crazy? You’re not going to marry that Ghost Punk, are you?”

Startled, Sam jerked away from her touch, shuddering in discomfort. Where would she get such a ridiculous idea? She and Danny Phantom? She almost wanted to laugh. Instead, she let out a derisive sound from the back of her throat. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“So, what is it then? I’m sorry, Sam, but you’re not making any sense right now.” The shapeshifter insisted. “If we’re not going to war, and you’re not going to marry the Ghost King, what do you need me for?” Taking a few steps, she got closer to the young monarch, their faces mere inches apart as she tried looking for answers in her amethyst orbs. “What could be so serious that you’re so unnerved, Sam?”

Delilah’s intense gaze made her squirm, but she had a point. She couldn’t expect her to help her, no questions asked. For instance, she wasn’t just the best shapeshifter of the clan, she was also a Council member, and the archives guardian. She was the one tasked with keeping their people’s most precious treasure, their history and knowledge, safe. And considering what she was gonna ask of her, Delilah was in her right to know exactly what was going through her head.

Steeling herself for what was to come, Sam straightened her spine, returning the intensity of the older witch’s gaze in earnest. “I need you to grant me access to a certain type of book.”

Delilah’s posture relaxed. “Is that it? Why didn’t you say so sooner? Sure, just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll let you take a lookー.”

“I mean,” Sam cut her off, “I need you to grant me permission to take the book with me, outside of the manor...and into the Ghost Zone.” Her voice wavered when she muttered the last part.

“Oh...I see...” The guardian’s expression immediately sobered up. She cleared her throat, awkwardly. “And, what type of book are you looking for?”

Now things were going to get really ugly. “I need a spellbook detailing everything we know about the Ghost Zone, specifically, its portals.”

For a while, Delilah just stared at her, almost unblinkingly. The good news was she didn’t appear angry or outraged as Sam had predicted, the bad news, however, was that her empty, unreadable expression was much worse. At least she’d have known what she was thinking had she been yelling at her for her idiocy; questioning her mental health. But as it was, Sam was almost as lost as her.

After what felt like an eternity, Delilah finally found her voice. “So you…” she quieted down, trying to find the words. “You want to take one of our most sacred texts to the Ghost Zone?”

Sam winced. Somehow, it sounded way worse when she said it like that. “I know it’s asking for too much…”

“Saying that’s an understatement wouldn’t even begin to cover it.” The Council member scoffed. “Seriously, Margaret would have a cow! And don’t get me started on Wilhelmina…”

“I know!” Sam was quick to reassure her. She was perfectly aware what she was asking of her might be a little excessive, but she wasn’t completely delusional! She knew just what kind of reaction their fellow Council members would have... “I know, but...the only way to ensure our people’s safety is helping Phantom. And he needs help closing numerous unstable portals that are suddenly opening. I thought the book I’d been using to get to the Infinite Realms would have the answers, but its contents were thoroughly underwhelming.”

Just like she did in Phantom’s lair, Sam got the spellbook out of her skirt before handing it to the guardian. In turn, she inspected its pages, concluding that, indeed, the book hadn’t much to offer. “Please, Delilah, you know I would never ask this of you if I didn’t think it’s our only hope.”

Sam wasn’t one to plead. The young Council member knew this better than anyone. She was headstrong and determined; the entire clan knew there wasn’t much that could be done to dissuade her once her mind was made up. Margaret herself found it to be both a blessing and a curse, while Wilhelmina thought it was a curse. Period. And Delilah...

Delilah prayed to all things above her that she wasn’t about to make a mistake. Sighing in defeat, she flashed Sam a small grin, earning herself a triumphant smile in return. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she motioned for her queen to follow her with a slight jerk of her index finger. “Come with me, your Majesty. I know just the thing.”

Sighing in relief, Sam allowed her eyes to wander around the manor’s archives. She really couldn’t blame Stephanie for loving the place to the point of practically making it her second homeーthe sight was breathtaking.

The circular room, surrounded by large panel windows, located right below the Council Room, which put it in the three-story manor’s second story, was one of the best examples of a Pocket Dimension Spell put to good use. Countless shelves filled to the brim with colourful, leather-bound books went on as far as reached the eye; hanging proudly from the ceiling, the arrow-shaped banners with her clan’s signature colour and emblemーa black rose over a royal purple backgroundーadorned the room; leaning against the shelves, golden ladders could be seen moving on their own accord; which was almost as impressive as the floating books that flew from one place to another by flapping their two covers like an eagle would flap its wings.

Walking through the numerous aisles, letting herself be, one again, amazed by the sight, Sam caught a familiar figure from the corner of her eye. Turning her head to the source, she found Stephanie Baker, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against a shelf’s lateral plank, an incredibly dense book perched on her lap.

Sensing someone’s eyes on her, no doubt, Stephanie lifted her head up and away from her book, before a grin was plastered on her face at the sight of her queen. Her enthusiastic wave was answered by Sam’s much more subdued one, alongside a small chuckle. “She’ll never change; she’s at her happiest when surrounded by books,” Sam mused to herself.

She and Delilah kept walking in silence, but with each step she took, the Goth couldn’t help but furrow her brow, anxiously. They were getting further and further away from the archives’ hot spot, the zone with the most activity disappearing in the distance until she almost couldn’t make it out anymore. Just where was she taking her?

Her question was answered when her guide halted abruptly in front of the wall. An empty space that, unlike the other walls encasing the archives, wasn’t even decorated by a portrait of one of the previous guardians. Not sure what to expect, Sam tilted her head to the side, speechless. “Uh...Delilah?”

But Delilah didn’t answer. Instead, she turned her back on her and extended her hands, palms open, in front of her. “Clavis mysteria!”, she chanted, her carefully coiffed onyx braid dancing around her, as if swayed by a sudden strong breeze. From her palms emanated a green fog that, as Sam could only look on in awe, speechless for an entirely different reason; seemed to open the wall in half, the resulting, uneven, wooden dents making way for it.

An eternity or a few minutes could’ve passed, and Sam would be willing to believe anything she was told, when the green fog manifested again, carrying a rather large object with it. When the Witch Queen realised what it was, she could only gasp in astonishment.

Levitating before them was a royal blue, leather-bound book. Intricate designs were scattered throughout its back cover, engraved in gold. Two such designs, a pair of golden, twin swirls, flanked an equally golden fleur de lis on its spine. But the most amazing thing, what truly showed the book’s importance, were the golden letters, glinting under the light, on its cover:

Arcana’s Grimoire

Mouth hanging open, the young witch could only gape at her friend, completely blown away by the revelation, as the grimoire landed safely on her hands. With a small chuckle, Delilah pushed some loose, black locks obscuring the right side of her face aside. “Sorry. No matter how tightly I tie my braid, spellcasting always messes my hair up.”

Her throat suddenly very dry, Sam swallowed before managing to speak, a finger pointing at the manuscript. “Is...is that…?”

With a knowing smile, Delilah nodded. “Arcana's Grimoire. If you want to find answers on what’s causing those ghost portals to open at random, this baby is your best bet.” Stretching her arms towards the queen, she handed the book to her, who held it with as much care as one held a newborn for the first time, almost reverently. “The grimoire holds the answers to all those questions time made sure to erase.”

“I-I…you...t-the book...” Sam stuttered, not sure what to say. “A-are you sure you want to entrust the g-grimoire, Arcana’s Grimoire, to me?”

“It’s risky, I know. But you said it yourself, you wouldn’t ask me to grant you permission to take a spellbook out of the manor if you weren’t convinced it’s our only hope.” Those few loose strands falling on her face, a stark contrast to her dark mane, she lay a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, a soft smile on her face. “And I wouldn’t hand the grimoire to you if I didn’t think it’d be safe with you.”

Eyes widening at the Council member’s words, Sam couldn’t do anything but send her a grateful smile in return. Clutching the grimoire close to her chest, she promised, “I’ll guard it with my life.”

Internally, she made another promise, only this time, it was much more violent than solemn. “And I swear, if Phantom so much as looks at it wrong, I’ll ask Danny to lend me some of his parents’ weapons and hunt him down myself.”

................

“You’re lucky this place sells some of the best pastrami sandwiches I’ve ever had, dude. Otherwise, you’d be on your own.” Tucker said in between bites of his heavenly pastrami with honey mustard sandwich. Wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, earning himself disgusted looks from the two other people present, he wagged a finger at his best friend. “Seriously, though. Who would’ve thought Sam would have good taste in restaurants?”

He winced when the Goth in question elbowed him on his side. “I have excellent taste in food in general, thank you very much. It’s not my fault only 9% of the global population can appreciate it.”

Once again, they were meeting up at the You Mocha Me Crazy, which, at this rate, was going to become their new favourite hanging spot. Unless Sam was willing to forego her vegetarian ways and ask for a Double Meaty Nasty Burger with extra bacon with them. Somehow, that seemed unlikely. Luckily, during their first visit Sam had introduced Tucker to their selection of sandwiches and cold cuts, making it easier for the techno geek to warm up to the café.

After that successful first meeting, the trio decided to hang out whenever Danny needed Sam's help to write his ‘paper.’ All they had to do was ring or text Sam, and she’d tell them when she was free to meet.

Today was one of those days she was free and the guys were in need of her help. The three were lounging around a small coffee table Sam named ‘her spot’, for it was where she usually had her coffee or worked on her assignments in peace. The fact that she was good friends with one of the baristas also helped keep the space free of any ‘spot-stealing-squads,’ as she lovingly referred to ‘those vultures.’

Nursing his aching side, Tucker rolled his eyes. He’d already lost count on how many times they’d had that same conversation. “Is there anyone free from your vegan wrath?”

“For the last time, I’m ultra-recyclo-vegetarian, not vegan.”

“What’s the difference?” Danny intervened, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Vegans tend to waste almost as much food as non-vegetarians. Ultra-recyclo-vegetarians make the most of every single meal.” Sam explained, forking a piece of tomato from her salad. “That’s where the ‘recyclo’ part comes from.”

“I thought that was freegans.” Tucker frowned, still munching his sandwich.

“I’m surprised you even know what that is.”

“You and me both.” Danny said, turning to look at Tucker with a curious expression on his face.

Rolling his eyes, the techno geek shrugged them off. “You meet the craziest people on Tinder.” He explained offhandedly. When he took notice of his two companions’ horrified expressions, he almost doubled over in laughter. Clearing his throat, he turned to Sam. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

Shaking her head to erase the traumatising image that was Tucker’s love life, Sam started. “What? Uh...oh! Right. Ehem! As a matter of fact, there are people excluded from my ‘ultra-recyclo-vegetarian wrath.’” She corrected. “I’d never force people without enough resources to go vegan. Such as the Inuit community. Besides, those guys barely hunt anything compared to rich jerks with questionable hobbies, and they use everything of what little they do hunt.”

“Handy people.” Danny mused, before returning his attention to his laptop, resting on top of his lap, one leg crossed over his other knee. “Now, I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but we’re here to help me with my...with my homework, remember?”

If Sam thought the way he seemed to overthink his words was weird, she didn’t let it show. “Yeah, you’re right.” She said as she turned her torso around, reaching for her notes inside her spider backpack. “Okay, you two. Lay it on me; what do you want to know?”

Tucker and Danny exchanged a glance, before the blue-eyed boy ventured. “Well...Sam, you’re the expert. What can you tell us of...um...of the witches.”

Scanning through her notepad’s pages, Sam froze at Danny’s words. Could her people’s secret have been discovered already? Before risking compromising her sisters, she had to test the waters first. “Why are you doing your paper on witches in the first place?” Her voice came out a little colder than she intended.

Tucker furrowed his brow, taken aback by her sudden guarded posture, while Danny just rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh...why not? The seminar I signed up for is on mythological creatures and folklore, and witches are one of the most legendary myths ever...right?”

Alright, that made sense. But she couldn’t be reckless, she had to make sure Danny didn’t pose a threat to her coven. “Yeah, they definitely are. I’m sorry, it’s just...with all the ghosts constantly attacking Amity Park, I thought, ‘why witches?’, you know? I mean, your parents are experts! If you just asked them for a little bit of help, your assignment would immediately turn into an easy A, wouldn’t it?”

Taking a gulp from his espresso, Danny carefully thought what to say next. He couldn’t let Sam think he had some sort of ulterior motive for asking about the mystical group of women; he’d promised Lady Arcana her people’s secret would be safe, after all. So he did the only thing he could; he expertly lied. “Well, I don’t really like having things handed to me, you see. What’s the point in signing up for a seminar if I’m just going to get an easy A thanks to my parents, you know what I mean?”

Tucker had to fight the urge to laugh at the irony of the situation. Oh, what Danny wouldn’t have given just to get easy A’s during high school... When his two friends turned to him, Sam looking at him in confusion and Danny quietly begging him to keep his mouth shut, he played it cool by taking a sip from his drink.

“Anyway,” Danny continued, “I just thought ghosts would be...I dunno...too mainstream? The assignment is supposed to make me do research on mythological creatures, and nowadays it’s pretty obvious ghosts are anything but mythological.”

“Witches aren’t far behind, either…” Sam internally mused, sipping from her macchiato. Holding the carton cup with both hands, she decided sharing some information with Danny and Tucker would be safe. She’d just tell them the basics, debunk some Hollywood myths...the usual. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Danny echoed, hopefully.

“Okay.” Sam repeated with a smile. “Anything in particular you want to know about?”

“Just...anything you can tell us, really.” Tucker said, leaning forward with his hands between his legs.

“You’re gonna have to be a tad more specific than that, guys.”

Crossing his arms, the Astrophysics student thought long and hard. What was it that he really wanted to know about them? Well, the answer to that was obvious. His only real question was why? Why did they do what they did? If only he could figure that out, then maybe he’d know how to approach Lady Arcana. But there was no way he could ask that without exposing who he was. And it wasn’t like Sam, of all people, would have the answer anyway.

So instead he asked, “What’s their origin?”

That startled Sam, who almost choked on her lettuce, Tucker quickly coming to her assistance and patting her back. After massaging her throat and swallowing her food, she looked at Danny with an inquisitive eye. “Come again?” She croaked out.

“What’s their origin?” He repeated. “And...and I don’t mean this as in...as in a history lesson. Like, when did witches first appear or anything. If I wanted to know that, I’d just read a book or watch a National Geographic documentary. I-I mean, how is a witch even born?”

“Do I have to explain the birds and the bees to you guys, too?” She asked with a coy smile, having recovered from her coughing fit. Despite the seriousness of his query, the violet-eyed girl couldn’t help but tease him.

Danny flushed in embarrassment. He had to admit, he’d handed her that one. Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I’m good, thanks. You might need to talk to Tuck, though.” He joked, earning himself an offended gasp from his best friend, who punched him lightly on his arm in protest. “But, nah. I guess a better question would be, what makes a witch...well, a witch?”

Sam had to admit, it was a good question. Even if it may risk her people’s secrets, such depth earned the blue-eyed boy some respect from her. Not many people went beyond the basics when looking for information. Most would be content with reading the first few paragraphs of a Wikipedia article. But Danny… Something about the intensity of his ocean blue eyes made Sam feel he was more similar to his parents than he’d originally thought; despite having no interest in ghosts himself. Somehow, he shared their inquisitive and curious mind, albeit from a less scientific approach. Just by that question alone, she immediately understood Danny Fenton was much smarter than people gave him credit for.

Exhaling, she began to explain. “Believe it or not, the one who got closer to the truth was Harry Potter.”

“You mean the children’s book with the extra creepy white dude?” The bespectacled young man raised an eyebrow, before exchanging disbelieving glances with his best friend beside him.

She just chuckled. “Yeah. Witches are human women who were born with the innate ability to do magic, setting them apart from the rest.”

“So...this is witches vs muggles that we’re talking about.” Tucker insisted.

“Yes, Tucker.” Sam said with a bit more bite than she intended. “Point is, being born different tends to alienate people, and considering we’re talking about magical-powers kind of different…”

“The witches were alienated and persecuted by society.” Danny finished for her.

“Bingo.” The raven-haired girl picked up some photocopies with different articles printed on them and handed a few copies to both of them. “Although nowadays most people bel-know witches aren’t real,” she caught herself before her subconscious could rat her out, “some cryptology experts theorise they just eventually flocked together to keep whatever magical gene they had inside the coven. You know, as a precaution to avoid further persecution.” To this day, she still couldn’t believe a group of nutjobs would be right on the money. The sole idea was ludicrous, and yet…

“So, that’s it?” Tucker asked, looking up from his own set of photocopies, incredulous. “Witches are just humans who, inexplicably, won the superpower lottery?”

The Goth just smiled sheepishly at him. What could she say, anyway? Though witches weren’t against scientific discoveries or careers (Star herself was studying to become a mathematician), magic sort of was their thing; literally. So nobody had ever really delved on why or how they’re different from other humans.

Scratching his chin in thought, Danny tried reconciling what Sam said to his own encounters with the spellcasters. When he thought about it, Lady Arcana and her witches really weren’t any different from any other citizen of Amity Park; the only surprising thing about them was their Queen’s unique eye colourーher being breathtakingly beautiful didn’t matter since her personality needed an awful lot of workーand their characteristic ability to do magic...and maybe their questionable taste in pets.

But that was it.

Other than that they were as human as his own family. Even their hatred of ghosts was in synchrony with the town’s general opinion of him. Perhaps if he treated the Witch Queen as any other girl, things would smoothen between them. It made sense that part of her prickly personality was a result of him consciously treating her differently than he would treat others. Deep down, she knew they were unwelcomed, and therefore, built walls around her to avoid getting hurt.

“Look at you, worrying over making the Witch Queen feel comfortable around you...You’re a lost cause, Fenton.” Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself, having more important matters to take care of. “Sam,” he called out to her, startling her and Tucker out of their own conversation, “is there a way you could tell us about their spells or something?”

It was a risky question, he knew. But, as useful as learning to deal with the witches was, what they really needed was a way to put an end to the crisis threatening both dimensions. And the only way to do it was by finding a portal-related spell.

Eyes widening at his question, Sam could feel her stomach churning ominously. That question was a bit too specific for her liking. Depending on how she handled the situation, she could either masterfully take care of it or put her subjects in danger over a potential misunderstanding. “Their spells? What do you mean?”

Danny pretended to look through his own set of copies, trying to appear nonchalant, as if his question were born from mere curiosity, rather than a sense of impending doom. “Nothing, really. I was just curious. I mean, would witches even cast spells, or would they voluntarily just manifest their powers like ghosts do?” As he spoke, his mind raced back to the floating book Lady Arcana had, without any kind of warning, shoved in his face during her last visit.

The Goth had to resist the urge to spit in disgust at the notion of being compared to those disembodied remains of human consciousness. She took a subtle breath to ease away her repulsion. “It’s hard to say.” She lied. “Since there’s no clear evidence that true, real-life witches ever existed, ーand I’m sure they don’t, obviouslyー.”

“Obviously.” The two men seated with her echoed.

“ーthere’s no definite hypothesis explaining if they truly casted spells or not. For all we know, their famous rites and ceremonies could just be that; ceremonies belonging to pagan religions that were thought to be witchcraft by Christians.”

“Any chance we might be able to find any spell on the Internet?” Tucker wondered, readily taking his trusty PDA out of his pocket, causing Danny to sigh tiredly upon noticing the device in his hands. While Tucker used his tablet and computer when doing assignments or playing video games, that was solely because the screens were bigger. He’d actually been in a loving, committed relationship with his PDA since he first got it when he was 14. As time went by and technology evolved, instead of adjusting with the times, he put all his engineering knowledge to use with the sole intention of updating his baby and never having to part ways from her.

It was both kinda cool and a little disturbing, to be honest.

Leaning back on her chair and crossing her legs at her knee, mirroring Danny’s own stance, Sam propped her face on her hand, a bored expression plastered on her face. “Although I do find your commitment to recycling that old thing of yours instead of falling for the capitalistic trap that is technology consumption commendable,” she said, and Danny was sure his eyes must’ve popped open at seeing her utter that long-ass speech without so much as pausing to breathe, “sometimes I worry about you.”

Offended, Tucker frowned at her, only clutching his PDA tighter in his hands. “I’m mercifully going to choose to ignore everything you just said except for the part when you call me ‘commendable.’ Now, can I look for information on the Internet or not?”

Leaning forward, this time resting her chin on her knuckles at the same time as she propped her elbow on her bent knee, Sam shrugged, not really caring. “You can try, but chances are you’re only going to find Halloween articles from children’s magazines, or weird Satanist websites asking you to offer a sacrifice in exchange for joining them.”

As Tucker flopped back down on his chair with his arms crossed, pouting and grumbling something along the lines of, “Damn it, Jazz…”, Danny tried fishing for more information. “So they don’t really cast spells?”

The discomfort came back. She knew Danny was only trying to be thorough with his assignment, but that didn’t change the fact that his questions hit a little too close to the mark. “The only way to find out for sure would be meeting one in real life.” She said in a voice so low, even with his enhanced senses Danny almost didn’t hear her.

Noticing the tension suddenly coming off of Sam, her previously laid-back and even playful posture changing to a much more tense one: legs crossed tightly, her shoulders stiff, both hands clutching at the fabric of her shorts…; Tucker decided it’d be best if they let the topic go for a while. And so, he did what he did best:

He abruptly changed the topic.

“So Sam,” he called out to her, quickly getting both her and Danny’s heads to snap to him, “I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”

“Tell you what?” What was he doing?

“What’s your deal?”

Sam blinked. “My deal?”

The teal-eyed young man just nodded. “Yeah, what’s your type?” He asked as he leaned forward, mindlessly toying with his PDA. “Because in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve not seen you once with a boyfriend, not even a fling.”

“Tucker, you’ve known me for a year.” She reminded him. “Not necessarily as much time as you make it out to be.”

“Hey, a lot can happen in a year!” He defended.

“Tucker himself has had three different girlfriends in the last three months.” Danny added.

“See?” Then, he turned to his best friend with an unamused expression on his face. “But, dude, don’t say it like that; you make me sound like a player.”

“I’m just saying,” the black-haired youth put his palms up in surrender, a lazy grin on his face, “it’s not bad for a guy who was rejected by every single girl back in high school.”

Tucker just glowered at him, before turning his attention back to Sam. “So...back to the question; what’s your type of guy?”

She could not believe this was happening. Back when she was a teenager, a tinsy bitsy part of her she tried very hard to suppress secretly longed for talking about girl stuff with the other girls her age from her clan. Something as silly as talking boys, makeup, or any other teenaged-girl nonsense with other people would’ve made her lonely childhood all the more bearable, and now…

...now she was being offered to talk about boys...by other boys...at twenty-one. And the worst part was that she was actually considering it. Her life could not get any more complicated than that. Sighing through her nose, unable to believe how low she’d stooped, she gave in.

Her type...that was a good question. Back when she was still in her early to late teens, she would’ve said she was looking for a unique guy. The type of guy who valued his individuality and who was above all the pointless trends dominating the public with their pre-fabricated, market-targeted predictability. A guy who didn’t fall into any of the classical high school cliques: someone who wasn’t a brainless jock, or a geeky kid, or one of those posers who hid behind a fake dark persona to get people to pay attention to him.

Someone who embraced being different rather than exploited it.

Someone like her.

But all those fantasies turned out to be nothing more than that; fantasies. Delusions. Sooner or later she’d have to open her eyes to the world. She just wished Gregor hadn’t been the one to open them up for her… After that fiasco, Sam finally learned what she was truly looking for in a partner. “...a good guy.” She practically whispered in the end.

Tucker and Danny exchanged a confused glance once their initial surprise at Sam’s sudden reply, after several minutes of silence, had worn off. It was the former who spoke up, “...I’m not sure that qualifies as ‘a type.’”

“Of course it does!”, she protested. “Just like girls stereotypically fall for ‘bad boys’, we can also fall for ‘good guys.’ And I’ve had my fair share of bad boys, thank you…” she muttered before looking away from them.

Something about the way Sam said those words hinted at a lot more going on than just a teenage girl crushing over a guy with a motorcycleーand hopefully not a ghost one who only wanted her as a vessel for his real girlfriendー, but she seemed to have closed herself off completely. Danny wanted to ask her about it, but something in the way her position stiffened changed his mind. No way would Sam open up to someone she'd just met over something so personal.

Instead he asked, "And how about looks?"

She flashed him a small smile and that alone made his entire week worth it. "I'll admit, I do have a soft spot for guys that aren't exactly average."

Tucker scoffed. "Well, duh! I'd also pick a supermodel over a plain-looking chick any day of the week..."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Despite the seriousness in her voice, she eventually broke down laughing, the other two joining in on the fun soon after. As her giggles quieted down, Sam stole a furtive glance at Danny. The way he seemed to sense her discomfort despite barely knowing each other and making an effort to keep her mind away from unpleasant thoughts was enough to make her heart flutter, making her blush slightly at the realisation.

She shook the feeling off, though. Danny was sweet, and maybe a little cute despite his, apparently, natural awkwardness, but she wasn’t looking for romance, having much more important things to take care of. Besides, he really wasn’t her type, cute as he may be. Still, that didn’t change the fact that she wanted to thank him for his help in some way. And, against her better judgement, she knew just what to do.

An hour passed by until Tucker had to bid them goodbye, saying he was going to be late for class if he stayed with them any longerーalthough he really, really wanted to skip that lectureー, and so, he left his two friends to their own devices. Another forty minutes or so later, it was finally time for them to go to their respective classes, too.

Rolling her eyes at Danny as he opened the door for her, but thanking him nonetheless, Sam stepped out of the café, her companion close behind her. “About the spell thing you asked me about earlier…” she started, her words coming out of the blue and tearing Danny away from his own thoughts, “I guess, if witches are actually just humans with magical powers, then it’d make sense if they’d need some sort of way to activate said powers…”

Mouth slightly agape, he finally found the words, “You mean like a password or something?”

She looked over at him from the corner of her eyes, a cryptic smirk on her lovely face. “Maybe.”

Turning to face him, her smile widening but never losing its mystery, she waved before walking past him, “See ya, Danny.”

Danny slowly waved at her in return, unbidden, too gobsmacked to form a coherent sentence. Because just like that, she was gone.

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starkerintheparker · 4 years

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starker reclist - canon based fics

Hi Starker fam! To celebrate my 900 followers I decided to finally start posting my humble and very personal reclist. I’ve been planning to do it for a while now but it got way bigger than I anticipated so I decided to split it in 4 parts and will share the first one today. I’ve been around for less than a year and there’s a lot I haven’t read yet so my plan is to update this list as I go.

Under the cut is part I, solely is dedicated to canon-based fics. I’m a sucker for angst so most of my recs feature guilty!Tony, miscommunication, porn with feels and all that jazz. Hopefully you’ll be able to find something interesting according to your preferences. Oh and don’t forget to leave kudos, comments and spread the love for these authors :) Cheers!

Last updated: 2020/04/18. All new fics added will be marked with ***

• 10 Ways to Woo Your Boo by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 6k, completed)

Summary: By twenty-one Peter Parker had graduated college, scored himself a post-grad job and was a full-fledged member of the Avengers. He had his own apartment, paid his own bills and juggled his time between being a superhero and working enough to cover his rent. So long as Peter was armed with his ID, he was a full-fledged adult in the eyes of the law. Perhaps foolishly, he’d assumed it would make him an adult in the eyes of everybody else too. Keen to be seen as worthy of Tony's heart, Peter enlists the help of his friends and the internet in courting his former mentor.

Review: We all love Ash’s fantastic AUs but this lovely canon-based fic may be one of my favorite works by her. I will never know how she manages the fine balance between angst, humor and romance, I just know it hits me good and takes my breath away. Oblivious!Tony and Peter being a bisexual disaster at wooing, what do you mean this wasn’t in the movies? Sounds canon to me.

• 100-Point Restoration by Destina (T, 8k, completed)

Summary: Tony needs a happiness upgrade; Peter wants Tony. These goals might be compatible. (This story is set roughly five years post-Homecoming).

Review: I just realized this was the first Starker fic I’ve read, and it was back in 2017! I didn’t ship Starker at the time but this author must have done something right because for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes away. This fic is gorgeous. Tony’s voice is amazing, his dynamics with Peter are spot-on and organic - but nothing’s better than watching their feelings unfold, like a soft and warm humming just awaiting for disclosure.

• adult supervision by doveslayer (M, 20k, on hiatus)

Summary: Peter Parker should not keep drunk-dialing Tony Stark after midnight. But more pressingly, Tony Stark should not keep answering. In which Tony tries to convince himself he's doing nothing wrong. warning: underage!Peter tho pretty vanilla imo

Review: My favorite “everything is happening while nothing is happening” fic. Their voices are spot on, the dialogues are clever, and you can almost touch the tension with your fingertips. It’s been a year since the last update but even if this fic never gets finished I promise the read will have been worthy!

• Attached by @paspleurer (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: Tony gets it, he really does. As far as rebounds go, sleeping with your childhood hero isn't half bad. And if what Peter wants is this— just sex, with no strings attached— then Tony will give him this.

Review: Pleurer and Learned Foot have seduced me with the rebound trope. This is a lovely Tony POV with the good old pining + miscommunication combo, plus enthusiastic sex and sweet domesticity. What else could I ask for?

• Covet by RTC anonymous (E, 34k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

Review: I read this fic when I was still warily lurking around the Starker fandom and it blew me away. The sexual tension is so palpable you can almost taste it. There is jealous, guity Tony failing at mentoring and a vulnerable, smitten Peter Parker trying to make sense out of it. RTC anon is a religion.

• Ephemeron by @ramblings-from-elsinore (E)

Summary: "Being around Ned, Peter's reminded how out of place he is. For Ned, the second ever appearance of aliens over Manhattan is the stuff of excited hallway chatter, of where were you when—? Ned’s world wasn’t blown apart and stitched back together. Because Ned doesn’t remember. No one does, except the ones who were there, who fought." AKA, "Tony's relationship with Peter may be unconventional, but they’re unconventional people who have had some pretty fucking unconventional experiences." In which Tony can't stop touching Peter to make sure he's real, and Peter dreams of being in Tony's arms and not disappearing.

Review: I started reading this fic before I joined the fandom and man, what a way to get pulled into this ship. Brace yourself for hardcore guilty!Tony being all over the place plus unhealthy codependency and touch deprivation, all the good things. Reading this is a spiritual experience but fair warning: this is not a happy story, at least not for a long while, so please mind the tags.

• Expiration Date by @learned-foot (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony knows exactly what this is. First big breakup, go for a fling with a completely inappropriate person. It’s basically a cliché. He kind of thought Peter was better than that, but apparently being brilliant and one of the bravest people on the face of the planet doesn’t mean he’s immune from being a stupid college student who makes stupid college student mistakes. AKA Tony is sure this is just a fling, and he deals with that about as well as you’d expect.

Review: Ahh my beloved rebound trope and my first rec (out of many) by LF! Between a pining, insecure Tony making all the wrong decisions and a young and confident Peter unwilling to let him go, this fic makes your heart ache in the best ways. Good thing LF only works with happy endings!

• From Thy Bounty by @ibby-writes and feyrelay (E, 31k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Review: I’ve lost count of how many times I reread this insanely hot and ridiculously well written fic. Besides the A+++ characterization, there is delicious food porn foreplay followed by a breathtaking cat and mouse game that culminates with no less than 13.5k of intense and unapologetic sex with feels, my favorite kind. Enjoy the meal! ;D

***Gift of Choice by tuesday (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Review: This is my favorite fic by tuesday and the PERFECT rendition of our beloved sugar daddy trope. Great pacing, amazing dialogues and a breathtaking build up that makes you both smile and sweat in anticipation. They’re so in love I almost can’t handle when they finally get together. Sexy, hot and very sweet.

• here is my hand, my heart by belatrix (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: Mostly, Tony had tried not to look. He still does. Try, that is. It’s just― it’s getting a little bit harder every day.

Review: I have a HUGE soft spot for this beautiful masterpiece, because it was the fic that finally made me join the Starker fandom. I’ve reread it so many times and it never fails to amaze me. Through an atmospheric non-linear narrative, this shows a guilt-ridden Tony Stark trying and failing to resist one determined Peter Parker who won’t take bullshit for an answer. Hot, and angsty, and breathtaking.

• I know that you got Daddy Issues (And I do too) by feyrelay (E)

Summary: The one where Peter’s blue balls save the world. Because, yeah? That meandering, blooming thing between him and Mr. Stark? That relationship that continues to be maddeningly legal, platonic, and above-board, but still somehow haunts Peter’s wildest wet-dreams? That might just be the key to Strange’s endgame.

Review: This fic is a love letter to those who appreciate an angsty and nuanced slow burn like me. Possibly the best character study I’ve ever read combined with a clever, well researched and intricated plot. Reading this will make you fall even more in love with Tony and Peter as individuals, before wanting them to be better together. Make sure to also check all related fics under the tag DIEU (Daddy Issues Extended Universe) - the Starker verse we fucking deserve.

• if I am the river, you are the ocean by sadonsundays (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: The one where Tony can't sleep and Peter can't stop his hands from shaking.

Review: This is a gorgeous recovery fic, painful and heartbreaking, yes, but still very gentle as Tony and Peter’s relationship quietly unfolds. Pepper is an absolute treat which was refreshing to me. I just love the quiet and angsty undertone that guides their journey until they finally find home in each other.

if you’d grant my love a pardon by belatrix (M, 2.5k, completed)

Summary: The first time, it goes something like this: “No,” Tony says, but it’s tired, half-hearted, not quite a denial.

Review: One of the reasons why I love this ship is that there’s always room for angst, even when they’re already together. This lovely yet heartbreaking fic mirrors Tony’s fragile heart as he realizes that as much as he should, he just can’t let go of Peter, not quite yet. Belatrix writes guilty!Tony’s headspace like nobody else and I just can’t recommend her writing enough.

• in the light of a dying star by @areiton (M, 6k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Extremis isn't a guarantee. That's what Pepper told him, as they took him off the bloody, dusty field. It was just a chance. A desperate gamble.

Review: I’m so glad I read this right after Endgame because this is the fix-it Tony and we all deserved, this fic is so comforting and beautiful. I really love the quiet, ethereal atmosphere and how it shapes our perception of time and character development. Peter is beautifully written and their get together made my heart ache in peace.

• In the Morning by @cagestark (M, 6k, completed)

Summary: Peter's pretty stressed. He isn't understanding physics despite all the extra time he is spending with Bruce. And underneath it all, something is wrong with Mr. Stark.

Review: Heart wrenching and painfully honest fic, where Tony is a jealous mess and Peter is his usual earnest, sweet and good self. They meet in the middle, and it’s quiet, beautiful and sad.

• Kiss Me by @ironspi

Summary: Five times Peter and Tony almost kiss and one time they did.

Review: This fic was such a lovely surprise! It begins unpretentious and it builds up to quality pining and unresolved sexual tension. Chapter 4 is particularly awesome, so charged and intimate. Kudos to the author for exploring Peter taking the lead and making Tony melt in his arms.

• Landslide by spqr (M, 8k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Peter jumps into the quantum realm with his heart in his throat. He steps out in 2018, on the edge of a lake he still has nightmares about. A hundred yards away over the water, the lights in the lakehouse are on.

Review: Morally ambiguous characters + angsty time travel? Count me in. This fic has a very interesting (and darker) take on Peter post-Thanos, in his raw and desperate grief over Tony. Bonus points for amazing dialogues and a fix-it plot so clever and believable I’m surprised I didn’t see it on screen.

• lean on me now by @areiton (G, 9k, on hiatus)

Summary: He’s so tired, and he hurts, the kind of screaming pain he’s struggling to ignore now, and he wants to go home. But he can do this. He can sit and watch, and keep them safe. A wry smile tugs at his lips because he knows how ridiculous that sounds--a kid keeping Avengers safe.

Review: One of the best canon divergence fics I’ve ever read. It’s quiet, angsty and Peter’s voice is simply amazing. My heart breaks for Tony, but I’m so here for Peter & Rhodey’s brOTP, the fandom deserves more of it.

• noticing by @areiton (NR, 2k, completed)

Summary: “You deserve to be happy,” Rhodey tells Tony once, when Tony is drinking and conflicted and Peter is sleeping unaware on the couch. Tony watches him, eyes bright.

Review: How could I ever resist seeing Tony and Peter’s relationship development through Rhodey’s protective and thoughtful gaze? Any Tony stan should read this fic because this is the kind of love, friendship and support he deserves. Reading this put my mind at rest, knowing Tony’s cared for, and safe.

• Obvious by @learned-foot (M, 14k, completed)

Summary: When Peter wakes up, several things become very clear all at once: he’s underground somewhere unpleasant, something is messing with his powers, and his entire body hurts. A lot.

Review: WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP *victory dance* god this one is brutal, but we can trust LF to bring on full angst with an intriguing plot and A+++ characterization. I’m so here for protective!Tony doing whatever it takes to keep Peter safe, including all the confusion and heartbreak his problematic decisions may bring.

• Permission by @cagestark (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: During drinks with the Avengers, Peter admits that he enjoys orgasms more when someone is giving him permission, though since he's single, there isn't anyone in his life to offer it. Generous Tony offers to offer it.

Review: This fic is unique and so very hot, but don’t let the smutty summary fool you. There is also tenderness and FEELS in capital letters. Despite their arrangement, pining!Tony is so vulnerable and so completely in love with Peter it kinda breaks my heart a little, but thankfully Cage is a big fan of happy endings like me, so we’re all safe in her hands.

***Post-Endgame NYE by @darker-soft-starker (M, completed)

Summary: Five years after the events of endgame Tony is resurrected. Months after that, he's still trying to find equilibrium

Review: Hands down the loveliest ‘flirting on a bench’ I’ve ever seen, and my top favorite NYE Starker fic. I love to see Tony facing an existential crisis while he navigates his new life post-resurrection, including the violent realization of ‘oh no, Peter’s an attractive adult now’. Gentle and gorgeous get together, kudos at Morgan for being a little devil and playing matchmaking.

• Proxy by @cagestark (E, 11k, completed)

Summary: Peter wants to know if Mr. Stark knows, like, anybody who’d be willing to make out with him. Things escalate from there.

Review: I have such a big soft spot for this fic because “by proxy” is one of my favorite tropes and Cage explored it masterfully. Again, this is pining!Tony at his best and Cage just has this ability to transform what once started as a sexy little thing into this soft and gentle love story, the kind that gives you butterflies in the stomach.

• Radar by @intoxicatelou (M)

Summary: Peter could say that he’s officially approached desperation, but he wants this, wants Tony, and he’s willing to do everything it takes. Or the one in which Peter tries to become Tony's celebrity crush from 2009 in order to seduce him.

Review: This is one of my favorites self-indulgent fics, I just can’t resist the good old “Peter’s seduction handbook” trope and intoxicatelou delivers it beautifully. This story is sweet, super fun and relatable af. There’s A+ pining, Peter being a bisexual disaster and MJ being the queen we all stan, shocking absolutely no one.

• Revelations by RTC anonymous (E, 127k, completed)

Summary: “I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?” An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

Review: I feel like I don’t need to justify this choice – almost everyone in the fandom has either heard of or read this masterpiece, it’s safe to say this fic is part of the Starker Training Wheels Protocol lol. If you have just arrived or is just exploring the fandom and enjoys slow burns I suggest you start right hee because it doesn’t get any better than this. There’s A+++ characterization, breathtaking pining, insane sexual tension and a very satisfying ending if I may say so. Definitely among my top 3 Starker fics. RTC anon, wherever you are, please know you are loved and appreciated. I’ll literally build an altar for you.

• Reversal by @learned-foot (E, 4k, completed)

Summary: Sometimes, Tony is the one who needs to be praised.

Review: For once Peter makes Tony just lie down and take 😊 the fucking 😊 praise 😊. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this fic all my life. This is the praise kink Tony (and we all) deserve, genuine, gentle and powerful. If you’re a big sap for their love like I am, you’re in for an emotional ride because this is overwhelmingly sweet to the point it brings tears to your eyes. LF is such a gift to this fandom.

• Settling by @cagestark (E, 5k, completed)

Summary: Peter really wants to be taller than Tony. Heels help.

Review: One of my favorites by Cage, I still remember how happy and giggly I felt when I first read it. There is A+++ characterization, amazing dialogue, Avengers domesticity, praise kink, the hottest blow job and my favorite Starker first kiss. Oh, did I mention Peter in heels and Tony loving every moment of it? You’re welcome :D

• Stipulations by RTC anonymous (E, 70k, completed)

Summary: Peter Parker’s long term dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in... And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

Review: Another fandom classic by our irreplaceable RTC anon, this fic is SO GOOD I keep coming back to it and just recently I realized I’ve built all my personal Starker headcanons out of it, lol. A+++ characterization and hot, delicious pining is a given with this author, but I’m really here for that senses-dialed-to-11 trope, and RTC delivers it masterfully.

• subtle by @areiton (T, 1k, completed)

Summary: Peter is not subtle. He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues.

Review: This fic is like reading poetry, a balm to the heart. Peter wears Tony’s colors and by the time Tony finally gets the context clues they fall together in the gentlest, softest way.

• Take it slow by tuesday (E, 13k, completed)

Summary: There were a ton of reasons dating Peter was a bad idea. Tony loved bad ideas. He was going to do it anyway. In which Tony thinks they're dating, and then they're dating undercover.

Review: This fic is so endearing it’s basically impossible not to cheer for these two, despite their usual infuriating communication issues, lol. But I promise all the angst and wait are worth it, because there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing how they (finally!) get to be on the same page.

• the record spins on the trails we blaze by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 5k, completed)

Summary: Years after the events of Homecoming, Peter thought all of the bad memories were well and truly behind him. After all, so much has happened since then - and he's happy now. Everything is kinda perfect.Turns out nothing stays buried.

Review: Hell yes! I agree HoCo’s events were particularly traumatizing and this trope is not as explored as it should be. To put it simply, this fic is something I didn’t know that I needed and Ash delivered it beautifully. It’s incredibly gentle, cathartic and honest, not to mention the lovely domesticity and understanding between the characters that will make your heart swell.

• Under Someone Else by @learned-foot (M, 7k, completed)

Summary: Peter realizes he’s just a rebound. And he’s okay with that, really. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Review: FEELS, FEELS EVERYWHERE. It’s so hard to choose a favorite fic by LF but this is the first that comes to mind because it introduced me to the amazing rebound trope. It’s so refreshing to see this ship’s potential for angst and miscommunication playing into the “fuck first, talk later” scenario. Warning for vulnerable boys being idiots and breaking our hearts but P.P.P.S they do eventually get their shit together and it’s glorious!

• Up for Anything by tuesday (E, 8k, completed)

Summary: When it came to Tony Stark, Peter would take what he could get. In which Peter believes he's just a rebound. (Not Endgame compliant.)

Review: Of course there’s yet another gorgeous rebound rec because I can’t get enough of this trope. Honestly, LF and Tuesday writing for each other have provided some of the best fics this fandom has, God bless them. This is another treat featuring pining!Peter and the usual “I can’t communicate properly how much I fucking love you”, but there’s also bantering, delicious dirty talk and so much affection that you’ll read it all with the biggest smile on your face.

#starker #reclist #peter parker x tony stark

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watching-pictures-move · 4 years

Text

Movie Review | Reservoir Dogs (Tarantino, 1992)

This review contains spoilers.

For the past few years, I didn’t spend a lot of time rewatching movies. Quite frankly, the thrill of discovering something new (and the risk that it might not be all that good) outweighed the pleasures of the familiar ninety-nine times out of a hundred. Yet this year, perhaps because it’s been so miserable on the whole, I’ve spent a bit more time revisiting films I’d already seen. In some cases, it was to relive the joy of seeing something I already liked or loved. But in other cases, perhaps because I’d been easier to please on average, I would go back to things I’d felt somewhat at a distance to in the hopes that I would finally be won over. Full Metal Jacket finally clicked with me (seeing it in a different aspect ratio did the trick) and I’ve warmed up to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 as much as I probably ever will. With that in mind, and prompted by a bizarre dream in which I watched it on Netflix in the wee hours of the morning, I ended up waking up stupid early and giving Reservoir Dogs another viewing. (The dream wasn’t terribly interesting, although it did involve me watching the new Scream, which had magically already been completed and was available on Netflix. There was a lot of yellowish, Fincher-esque lighting and Alison Brie got thrown over a railing at one point. As someone who enjoyed the fourth, I was upset by that turn of events, but dreams can be upsetting. In the words of the Shogun Assassin in Shogun Assassin, “bad dreams are only dreams.”)

I don’t think my opinion changed all that much with this viewing. I still feel that it’s one of Tarantino’s weaker films, lacking the confidence and depth of his next few films. I think Tarantino’s career is generally discussed as being split into his earlier, more story-oriented or reality-grounded films and his later, more indulgent genre pastiches, but I think this one lacks the focus that kind of discourse implies. The characters are barely fleshed out and the directorial touches aren’t as purposeful or effective as they would become in his later work. But at the same time, it’s still a stylish and highly entertaining affair, with a great cast giving some very good performances and delivering some punchy, very funny dialogue. It’s pleasures and limitations are obvious and have been better discussed by those more eloquent than me, so I don’t know how deeply I’ll delve into them. (On a side note, I felt a strange pang of nostalgia revisiting this despite it never having been a favourite of mine. It was very big among the internet crowd I first started discussing film with as I first got into the subject, so it’s hard for me to separate those feelings from the actual movie. I got the same feeling watching Boogie Nights a few weeks ago, despite never having seen that film until now.)

But what I did chew over a bit more this time around is how the movie positions the characters’ morality. We know that Tim Roth’s Mr. Orange is the “good guy”, the undercover cop who kills the psychopathic Mr. Blonde played by Michael Madsen. But at the same time he betrays the trust of Harvey Keitel’s Mr. White. Mr. White is sort of a “good guy” too, but foolishly risks his own fate and those of his associates as he bonds with someone who sets him up. Mr. Blonde is a sadistic psychopath but also extremely loyal, having refused to rat out his friends while serving a tough prison term. Steve Buscemi’s Mr. Pink is entirely business-minded and self-interested, but is that really any less honourable than the intentions of those around him? Chris Penn’s Nice Guy Eddie loves his father, Lawrence Tierney’s Joe Cabot, who is the closest thing to a paternal, authoritative presence in the movie, but both are also extremely ruthless, not to mention racist. Tarantino’s relationship with race is complicated (he’s been criticized for his use of the n-word, particularly in a certain scene in Pulp Fiction, and while I do enjoy his performance in that movie, I’m not sure I can defend a certain line of dialogue), but here the characters’ rampant use of racial slurs seems like a clear indicator of their (lack of) character. (These characters also freely use homophobic slurs, but such language was unfortunately a mainstay of macho dialogue at the time and doesn’t seem as pointed a comment on their natures.) Even when Mr. Orange praises the connection he used to get in with the criminals, another character is quick to point out that the connection is ratting out his friends. There’s some moral relativism in my argument here, but the movie invites that line of thought. Reservoir Dogs is about a bunch of lowlife crooks and despite the extent to which we may identify with them, it never lets us forget that.

In that sense, it’s in clear contrast to some of its influences. Ringo Lam’s City on Fire features the same plot but emphasizes the value of brotherhood between the criminals, so that the betrayal there stings extra hard. Tarantino highlights the meaninglessness of such appeals to solidarity. (Bizarrely, Tarantino has denied having seen that other film despite the hard to ignore story similarities. He even dedicated the screenplay to Chow Yun Fat and pulls the image of a dual wielding gunman in sunglasses from that actor’s oeuvre and has made a brand of pulling from his influences, so I’m baffled why he’d deny this one instance.) Jean-Pierre Melville’s work features gangsters in tailoring adhering to strict codes and conducting themselves with honour in dire situations. Tarantino points out the futility of such codes. His next film handles these dynamics even more elegantly. In Pulp Fiction, John Travolta’s character is a villain in one segment and a hero in another, while Samuel L. Jackson’s character reflects on the dishonourable nature of their work and decides to walk away at the end.

Where I think Pulp Fiction succeeds in handling that theme is that it gives us a sense of Jackson and Travolta contemplating (or failing to do so, respectively) their choices and having something resembling actual worldviews (however limited, as in the case of the latter). The characters in Reservoir Dogs in contrast are drawn in shorthand from gangster cliches so that our identification with them is limited. Mr. Orange should be our audience vantage point, but Tarantino fumbles a key scene in which he relates a made-up story to ingratiate himself with the other criminals. It should be about how Mr. Orange wins their trust, which would help make later speculation on his loyalty more dramatically potent, but in choosing to actually depict the proceedings in the story onscreen, Tarantino makes it about the cuts and shot choices he energetically deploys. It’s not a badly directed scene on its own, but the wrong one for the movie. Yet in other scenes, like the opening in the diner, he’s able to elegantly paint character detail while letting us enjoy the surface pleasure of the dialogue. Mr. Pink refuses to tip as an extension of his business-minded nature. Mr. Blonde volunteers to shoot Mr. White, jokingly revealing his bloodthirst. Mr. White takes things too personally (”You shoot me in a dream, you better wake up and apologize”). Joe Cabot struggles to remember a name, implying that his criminal instincts are slipping. The movie shuffles its timeline in the vein of The Killing to draw out these contrasts between the characters and to build to a tense and memorable climax, yet had more of the individual character moments been as deftly handled as this first scene, the film might have landed with me more strongly. That being said, there’s a nonzero chance I’ll come back to this in a few years, hoping it will finally click.

#film #movie review #reservoir dogs #Quentin Tarantino

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secret-engima · 5 years

Note

It's gonna be interesting to see Lucis's reaction to the existence of the second Prince.

OH IS IT EVER.

-Meltdown just about covers it, but not quite. Like- not only is this a second prince, but he’s OLDER than Noctis by a good seven years. Ignoring the media for just a sec (though OH BOY THE MEDIA) the MOOGLENET (or whatever the FFXV version of the internet is) is gonna have a collective heart attack. Some people are gonna be joining on the media boat of questioning Regis for having a son out of wedlock (and if he still has Nox’s mother in hiding somewhere as a mistress) but others are going to be harping on Nox himself. Like- the theories get WILD. How did Regis’s agents not find him until he was 15+? How strong is his magic? Why does he wear long sleeves in every (rare) photo or video and why are his photos and videos so rare? Where was his mother from? Was she even Lucian?

-Top theories on those are that either his mother/mother’s family HID him from Regis’s agents or he was living in another country until recently (considering the only other “countries” right now are all under Niflheim’s thumb, this immediately spawns the theories that he’s a double agent for the Empire or he was tortured by them and escaped, which would explain the long sleeves). Other theories for the long sleeves is he’s hiding tattoos that would shame the royal family (he already has long hair and strange taste in earrings after all). Maybe Regis is hiding him from the public eye because he’s ashamed of his illegitimate child, or maybe there’s something wrong with him (people who go with the “tortured and escaped the Empire theory assume he has mental issues on top of scars). A really popular theory for his mother was that she was from Niflheim, possibly a Nif agent there to get the royal bloodline in Nif hands, until someone dug up a picture of him hanging out with the glaives and someone else (probably a Galahdian tbh) did a breakdown on how the single braid visible in all of Nox’s photos is a Galahdian braid, which immediately makes the theory that his mom was Galadhian way more popular (there’s also a niche theory that he’s the kid of Queen Sylva and Regis and that Slyva had been hiding him in Tenebrae until recently, but few people subscribe to that one).

-And let’s not forget the DRAMA the mooglenet is waiting breathlessly for the moment his existence is known. I mean- think about it. Much older illegitimate prince with possible scars, mental issues or enemy agent mom suddenly gets found and taken into the Citadel and named the second prince? A lessor inheritor even though he’s older than the Crown Prince by seven-ish years? If this was a drama show, then Regis would end up assassinated by the long-lost son he foolishly took in and Noctis would either die or disappear mysteriously and Nox would suddenly be the only LC left to take up the throne (and possibly turn it over to the Empire if you’re one of the theorists on the “was born and raised in Niflheim and is their double agent” boat). Like- you KNOW that is how the plot would go, and so does all of the mooglenet, who await the descent of their kingdom into Game of Thrones intrigue and murder with baited breath and much frantic typing.

-But those are mostly Insomnian mooglenet users. No, the ones who live out in the wilder areas, the small towns and the outposts where Hunters often come through have a different kind of meltdown that mostly comprises of “hgdgfd that guy who saved me from monsters/daemons/nifs was WHO????” or “That’s my regular non-regular. He and his weirdo Uncle stop by my ramen stand whenever they’re in and bicker over the best toppings. ACTUAL ROYALTY likes my ramen WHAT IN THE WORLD-” or, arguably the funniest one, “HGFGFHGFD THE DRIFTER I REGULARLY HIRE TO DO RANDOM CHORES IS THE PRINCE. OF. LUCIS?? THE KIDDO WHO DRESSES LIKE A HOBO AND TAGS ALONG WITH AN EVEN MORE HOBO UNCLE IS ROYALTY???? I SENT ROYALTY TO COLLECT MY BEAN CROPS??????”

-Basically while all of Insomnia is wary and confused by Nox’s existence, the rest of Lucis is collectively losing their minds because, you know, Nox has helped out his people where he can, which means he has ABSOLUTELY done all those random side-quests where you harvest somebody’s crop or look for a lost shipment or go out and fight HORRIBLE MONSTERS so bring back some of their parts that you need for your dinky little weapon’s shop. Like- everybody thought they were the only ones who got helped out by this random drifter kid, but then THIS happens and the mooglenet explodes with stories from ALL OVER FLIPPING LUCIS of this kid dropping everything to like- help a researching find certain colored frogs or something in exchange for trinkets and petty gil and shop discounts and the occasional potion.

-While Insomnia is busy prepping their Game of Thrones style fanfic and the tabloids are speculating on the mental (in)stability and bloodline of the “brooding illegitimate prince, no doubt embittered over his early life and eyeing the little brother keeping him from the throne”, the rest of Lucis are basically melting into puddles of shock, confusion, and adoration for the royalty that would drop everything to help out random citizens. Care packages start showing up from all corners of Lucis to thank their prince, and after they’re cleared by security, Nox opens them all. And writes thank you cards. Personalized thank you cards that often reference some individual event or factoid of the person/people it comes from (thing’s like, “I hope your ankle is doing better”, or “tell your wife thank you for the knitted socks, they’re very warm and she didn’t have to make them for me, I know wool is expensive in your area”, or “sorry I won’t be around to deliver your next batch of spiracorn tails, my father doesn’t want me going on Hunts right now for whatever reason”) and this proof that he REMEMBERS and STILL CARES just makes them love him more.

-Also there’s this music-based drabble thing I’m working on that happens JUST as the mooglenet/media is starting to calm down and THAT sets everything off again with even more screaming and confusion and Insomnians going “I’M SORRY WHAT????” while the rural Lucians just go “ahh. Ah yes that explains it. That’s our little Drifter.”

-Regis is torn between being Responsible About Security and wanting the Hilarity Factor of letting Nox have a social media account. Like- his son hates public appearances of any kind and he respects that (barring the few mandatory noble balls), but Regis can just imagine the utter chaos Nox would unleash if anyone ever let him have a Twitter account and it’s .... tempting. The nobles haven’t been this off balance in years and for all some (a lot) of the tabloids and media commentators are annoying in their harping and gossip, the collective brain-melt Nox keeps triggering in the collective public/nobles/Council/media is HYSTERICAL.

-Nyx, snickering, announces one day that Nox has fanfiction about him. Like- A LOT of it. He is reigns over a thriving chunk of the Real Person fandom, almost all of which is massively OOC and either filled with political intrigue and assassinations (and sordid badly written romance) or just straight up AUs (vampire/werewolf/supernatural Nox is a stunningly popular AU as is the Usuper Dystopia AU). Nox is morbidly curious but refuses to actually read any of it for fear of losing his mind (she doesn’t tell him about the very fierce Shipping Wars that have broken out, or the fact that most of those Shipping Wars are over various popular celebrities Nox has never met, Noble Daughters he’s met and despised, and Aranea Highwind, who is on the list solely because she’s a famous female Nif officer and the Nif!Nox theory is very popular).

-There would be a segment of that fandom dedicated to works from the common folk who’ve actually met him, but for that part of the population it’s more popular to share various stories about how they met the then-unknown prince for real and how he either helped them or was adorably awkward over something (there is a magazine anthology of those stories, released monthly and very popular out in Lucis proper, Cindy has a subscription that Cid refuses to admit he reads).

-The fandom/theorists even stretch into Altissia and Niflheim. If ANYONE asked, Loqi would refuse to admit, on pain of DEATH, that he is the author of That One Fic everyone knows about/favs/follows/fanarts that features a Nox/Aranea ship, the now ex-Chancellor as Nox’s maternal uncle, and a SCARY in-depth knowledge/breakdown of both Niflheim and Lucian politics (in the context of Nox and Aranea navigating them, surprisingly this is the one Super Popular Nox-Nea fic that DOES NOT feature a Double Agent!Nox).

-The only reason Ardyn does not contribute to the rumors/fanfics/theories is because he doesn’t Understand How the Mooglenet Works™. He has, however, gleefully listened to some of the glaives read Loqi’s That One Super Popular Nif-Written Fic and smirked to himself over how it is so OBVIOUS who the author is, and pleased that Loqi the author is actually tasteful in his courtship subplot and shipping habits.

#SE asks #hamelin-born asks #Nox verse #Melodies and Manuscripts #Secret Engima Rambles #*cackles*

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elopez7228 · 4 years

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Scenic Route 45/45 COMPLETE

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Epilogue

Everything was fine in the apartment on Betterton Street on July 22nd.

The kettle was hissing in the kitchen, and Jessika got up from the couch to go fill the teapot.

She jostled Poe as she passed, who was slumped on the couch and whose legs had prevented her from leaving.

“Move over a little!” she grumbled, kicking his heel lightly.

“I can't move, princess, I'm too busy taking care of my boyfriend. Go around!” He retorted, hugging Finn's shoulder against him.

The two men sat cuddled together as if they were on a never-ending date. Which they were, actually. Ever since Finn left the hospital, Poe had been glued to him day and night. He would tell everyone that he previously thought he was going to lose the love of his life and he was so miserable that now he promised never to let go of him again. And up to now, he proved to be a man of his word.

Finn's right leg was still in a splint, his left arm in a cast. The bruises on his face were slowly fading, and he could smile again without wincing.

BB8 lay on the carpet, chewing on her ball. As for Rey, she occupied a plush armchair, newly upholstered with Madras plaid fabric and accented with reflective gold studs.

She bit her thumbnail nervously. Jessika put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Don't worry,” she said softly. “They’ll win.”

“I know they're going to win,” Rey whispered. “But him? What's going to happen to him?”

The television connected to Rey's laptop was streaming ABC7 online, broadcasting live from California.

The San Francisco courthouse took over the screen. Metal barriers and a volley of police prevented a group of demonstrators from approaching. The crowd was in an uproar, waving banners denouncing FORCE for endangering the Hoopa Valley Protected Reserve with an illegal mine.

That was only the tip of the iceberg, not that they knew it. Rey knew it, and her heart was racing. She wanted to cry.

She leapt up, recognizing Leia Skywalker as she approached, accompanied by Amilyn Holdo. Luke Skywalker trailed after them.

In the week since she’d returned to London, she’d had time to tell her friends the story. Maybe ten times, maybe even twenty times. Some things she’d left out, like the details of Ben’s past life. And other things she’d toned down, like the number of times he’d thoroughly fucked her. But overall, they now had a pretty good idea of what was at stake today.

A few minutes later, she watched as a stunted old man with yellowing skin emerged from an unmarked limousine, followed by a redhead in a very sharp suit. Next came their small army of lawyers, in a flurry of more ironed suits and massive briefcases.

Rey leaned forward, fingers clutching the armrests of her chair. Where was Ben Solo? She then spotted Mace Windu, who glared sharply at the cameras. And suddenly, Ben appeared. He wore a dark suit and tie, his face clean shaven, and his hand clutching a phone. The crowd made him visibly uncomfortable. Nervously, he ran his fingers through his hair and Rey let out a painful sigh. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair...

Everyone was holding their breath. Jessika had stopped pouring tea. The room was so quiet that Rey thought she could hear her own heartbeat.

She pulled out her phone, typing frantically.

On the screen, Ben Solo stopped ascending the courthouse stairs to check his phone.

Then he looked around, as if looking for someone in the crowd before looking directly at the camera. He smiled. Rey began to cry.

Jessika put the kettle down and came over to rub her shoulders.

“Come on, breathe. You sent him a sext, right? Looks like he enjoyed it, you temptress.”

It was 10 AM, at the edge of the world on the Pacific coast. 6 PM in London.

The night would be long.

The trial would not be shown on television, of course. The journalists circled outside the courthouse like vultures, hoping to glean the slightest bit of information. Rey might as well have gone to bed and come back the next day to watch a recap, or browse the internet for the verdict. But it would be a waste, because she could never go to sleep like this,

At three in the morning BB8 began to bark at the screen, startling Rey who had dozed off in her chair. Finn and Poe had been asleep for several hours already—Rey gave them her room because Finn's health demanded it. Jess was sleeping soundly on the sofa. Leia and Luke Skywalker emerged from the courtroom.

BB8 barked again, wagging her tail excitedly when Leia’s face appeared on the screen. Rey came to kneel beside her and turned up the volume.

The journalists held their microphones to Amylin Holdo, who was preparing to give a public address.

"A pivotal moment in the battle against FORCE," said the reporter in the foreground, "what was supposed to be a quick trial to determine the legality of opening a mine in Humboldt County has turned into a federal case involving the highest levels of the company. Whistleblower Galen Erso unveiled so much more than a fishy mining operation during the hearing, and is currently being questioned by the police. The trial has been suspended until justices can determine the veracity of the new details. Andrew Snoke and Armitage Hux were specifically singled out, with new charges of tax evasion, corruption, blackmail, kidnapping, battery and embezzlement against the duo. Police are looking for a warrant to search all of FORCE’s San Francisco offices. "

WHAT ABOUT BEN?

Rey groaned. This was pure torture. The journalist continued her speech, struggling to control her enthusiasm. She had obviously come to cover a non-event and found herself on top of the scoop of the century.

"The directors of FORCE each risk decades in prison as well as millions of dollars in fines and damages. The case could also have consequences for Governor Valorum and Justice Dopheld Mitaka, both of whom are also accused of corruption."

Suddenly, Ben’s face filled the screen.

All the butterflies in Rey's stomach took flight at the same time, and she struggled to breathe as her whole body trembled,

The screen then flipped to a still photograph of a fifty-something man she didn’t recognize. He had a straight nose and thinning hair, and looked very tired.

Words scrolled past at the bottom of the screen: “Ben Solo and Galen Erso, longtime employees of FORCE, work together to expose massive corruption scandal.”

Impossible!

Rey gasped aloud, waking her friend up. Jessika turned to the screen, rubbing her eyes.

“So what happened?” She mumbled

“Jess, he'll get away with it!”

She grabbed the remote and turned the sound up higher.

“Ben Solo-Skywalker, son of the plaintiff Leia Skywalker, represented by Mace Windu of the Boston Bar, had served on the FORCE Board of Directors since the beginning of his career. He and Armitage Hux met in Harvard and joined the company together. Reports say that FORCE funded the now-rockstar’s entire tuition because of his connections to Anakin and Padmé Skywalker, the original founders of the company. He was later swiftly promoted Director of Operations, where he took the pseudonym Kylo Ren, which also served as his stage name as the frontman of alternative rock band Kylo and the Knights of Ren. The group is originally from Denver, where Galen Erso also lived. The two men would go on to start a series of secret investigations to uncover what is shaping up to be a fraud scandal of unprecedented scale.”

Rey put down the remote.

Ben had never worked with Galen Erso, she knew enough to know that Galen had always been an Earth Soldiers spy. When she met Ben in Denver, he was still working for the First Order.

So he must have cut a deal with Holdo to gain a place in the story. But at what cost?

He must have loved the opportunity of turning on Hux, in testifying against him. But her questions remained.

Grabbing her phone, she typed a new message. Leia Skywalker's response came a few minutes later.

Ben protected Galen from FO agent Phasma. Really spared us a disaster. Some immunity in the works. Lots to do but all good. Take care of yourself and text me ok? Leia.

It wasn't all lies, then.

She typed out one final question.

What is he risking?

Ding.

For the old corruption cases, 3-6 months in prison. For other suspected crimes, house arrest with monitoring. Probably 2 years. Will keep you posted.

Rey exhaled.

Three to six months in prison. House arrest for two years. She had foolishly imagined showing him around London at Christmas. Her heart sank. Better late than never.

Within hours, her worst fears in life had dwindled to a matter of months without Ben. Everything would be fine.

Her phone chimed again, another message from Leia. She opened it immediately.

Don’t forget about conjugal visits ;-)

***

THE END

***

PS: what happened to the Knights of Ren?

Skylar is tied to a chair in the FORCE basement. Perhaps the police will find him there.

Saul, Shakti, Kelsi and Tyra are unemployed. But they have resources! Maybe Ben will have work for them and him when he gets out of jail?

Syed was unleashed into the wild with $20 and a Mars bar. And a kick in the butt.

and Phasma?

Ben Solo gave her the choice between 1) handing him the file and disappearing OR 2) going down with Hux and Snoke. She chose option 1. Maybe she’ll be able to play dominoes with Syed at their secret Nebraska hideout, until things settle down?

***

THANK YOU FOR READING ! Thank you to P. my translator, who went through this burden for TWO WHOLE YEARS... I mean, how nice of her is that ?!!!

If you liked the story, drop a comment, pop in my DMs, leave a word on AO3... speak up ! I’d like to hear from you.

Cheers, and long live Reylo !

#reylo #fanfiction #scenic route #modern AU

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things2mustdo · 3 years

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“If civilization had been left in female hands we would still be living in grass huts.” – Camille Paglia

The Book of Genesis has a warning to men and to civilizations. People typically only focus on certain phrases in the Genesis account and thus, miss the warning. God’s pronouncement of judgement upon Adam and Eve actually tells us some of the problems that will beset men and women and thus, civilization. The Genesis story contains a warning for men and women, individually and nationally. The Book of Genesis established an order, God’s order.

Most people are at least vaguely familiar with the account in the Garden of Eden. However, the details about the expulsion provide more information about one of the continuing events between men and women that would occur after Adam and Eve’s expulsion from the garden.

Genesis chapter one gives the entire creation account. Mankind is created in chapter one and told to multiply and replenish the earth. The following chapters in Genesis provide additional critical information about mankind and the outcome of certain events. Adam was created first and no suitable mate existed for Adam to fulfill the commandment of multiplying his own kind. God created Eve, not out of the Earth as in the case of Adam, but out of Adam himself. Eve was a reflection of Adam.

The Serpent’s Lie of Equality

After Adam and Eve partook of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil at the prompting of the beguiling serpent, God came to the Garden of Eden and decreed judgement. The King James Translation is a good translation but many English speakers have a limited knowledge of the definitions of the English language and are typically too lazy to consider additional meanings. The word “desire” in the KJV text is a word that has additional meanings. The following translation from the NLT provides additional clarification.

“Then he said to the woman, “I will sharpen the pain of your pregnancy, and in pain you will give birth. And you will desire to control your husband, but he will rule over you.” Genesis 3:16, NLT

And to the man he said, “Since you listened to your wife and ate from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat, the ground is cursed because of you. All your life you will struggle to scratch a living from it. It will grow thorns and thistles for you, though you will eat of its grains. By the sweat of your brow will you have food to eat until you return to the ground from which you were made. For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return.” Genesis 3:17-19, NLT

The phrase “and you will desire to control your husband” is translated as “and thy desire shall be to thy husband” in the KJV. While the word desire certainly means that a woman will long for her husband, the word “desire” also means to desire something to control it and to have power over it. The second meaning is clarified by the clause, “and he shall rule over thee”. This clause tells us something about the nature of women that people, neglect, forget, overlook, or disbelieve. The desire of women to control men.

The Bible does not provide the conversation that took place between Adam and Eve concerning the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. We know a conversation took place with the intention of convincing Adam to partake of the fruit. God’s statement to Adam makes clear there was a conversation. “Since you listened to your wife and ate from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat.” Adam knew the commandment but still partook of the fruit.

Part of the lie the serpent told Eve is that she would be equal to God. Another part of the lie is that she would be happier having more power. The idea that men and women are equal is the same lies told differently. Men and women have different God-given roles. Adam was placed into the Garden to cultivate it and keep it. Eve was created after Adam was placed into the Garden. The populists would have us believe that Adam had no dominion over Eve and that they were “equals”. Eve was provided to Adam so the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth could be fulfilled and to assist him.

Adam named the animals and he named Eve. Naming is an act of dominion. Adam was given dominion over the earth, the animals, and Eve. Part of Adam’s error was he allowed Eve to convince him to break the natural order. Adam allowed Eve dominion over him when he allowed Eve to convince him of the lie of the serpent. Their expulsion from the Garden of Eden meant they had to work harder.

Adam and Eve as a Microcosm of Civilization

The account of Adam and Eve is also a fundamental description of the man and woman’s interaction within the family and the interaction of men and women within civilization. In general terms, we should place ourselves in the position of Adam, the women in our lives in the position of Eve.

The family, man, and woman, is a microcosm of civilization. Consider the following:

Garden of Eden = Civilization

Adam = the majority of the men of that civilization

Eve = the majority of the women of that civilization

The Serpent = Advocates of progressivism, gender studies, that men and women are equal, etc.

Taking into consideration that Adam represents the majority of men in a civilization and Eve the majority of women in a civilization, the civilization fell after the men heeded the promptings of the women and subverted the natural order. The women, flattered by the enticing serpent, taught their sons and daughters that men and women were equals, encouraged the acceptance of homosexuality on par with heterosexuality, encouraged abortion, destruction of the family, and that transsexuality and cross-dressing are acceptable, and in some instances desirable.

Since women obtained the right to vote, the family, and by extension our civilization, has moved more in the direction of disorder and lawlessness, essentially toward destruction. Giving women the right to vote has been a disaster. Giving women the right to vote pushed matriarchy to the forefront and diminished patriarchy. Most women inevitably vote their proclivities and emotions. A woman should voice her concerns to her husband or other adult male family members.

Left to themselves women are not inclined to build. This dynamic can be seen in the television program of Dutch version of Survivor (titled Expeditie Robinson). ROK has an article from 2014 discussing what occurred with men and women in survival situations. Suffice to say, men started working together to survive and the women squabbled. Towards the end of the program, three men went to the woman’s location and three women went to the men’s location. The men that went to the woman’s location became the women’s workhorses while they continued to be lazy and worked very little. The women that went to the men’s location worked little as well.

Men work with a substantial portion of the fruits of that labor going to their women and children. Ever since women have received the right to vote, they have used that voting power to persuade businesses and politicians that they should still receive the fruits of all men’s labors. Since the rise of feminism and the subsequent confiscation of the fruits of men’s labors, men are now producing less.

The Upside-Down Order

Voting comes with responsibility, which many women have not been able to handle since feminism has prevented and encouraged a childish and responsibility avoidance mentality. There was a reason earlier civilizations did not give women the right to vote. Voting, and thus government were seen as the realm of men because men are the primary builders of civilization and because of the responsibility that comes with voting rights. Women were to receive support from their husbands, fathers, or other male family members.

Feminists would have everyone believe that women have always been oppressed and are still being oppressed while this is not the case, wherever women obtained political power civilization fell. Feminism does not discuss or teach the sharing of power but how women need more power and do not have enough power. This desire for political power is the desire to control men. This is why everything is “sexist” in feminist eyes. There are plenty of articles on the Internet about how feminism is not about equality but about power.

A blogger wrote an article about the rise of feminism in Ancient Rome and Rome’s subsequent demise. The blogger also mentions Ancient Babylon and some of the Babylonian laws. The Bible, in the Book of Isaiah, states:

“Childish leaders [adult children] oppress my people, and women rule over them. O my people, your leaders mislead you; they send you down the wrong road.” Isaiah 3:12, NLT.

Roosh recently proved an excerpt on ROK from his book, Game. The excerpt is titled, Never Follow A Girl’s Lead. Adam let Eve lead and look what happened. A woman that tells you to be less of a man and less masculine desires power over you. She is trying to control you. Men want to be respected, women want to be loved, but neither is possible with the lies of equality in the picture. Women will be happier when they stop seeking control over men.

We all know when women obtained the vote feminists began moving in the direction of replacing men with another authority, government. Feminists also began pushing for more women in government and other positions of authority. Men, being ostracized and deceived, began letting more and more women lead. This makes men weak.

The more a woman seeks to control the men around her, the more unhappy she becomes. Feminism deceives a woman into believing that having power will make her happy and if she is not happy it is because she does not have enough power. These are lies. This is why the more power a woman attains the more unhappy she becomes, even if she will not admit her own unhappiness. Hillary Clinton is one example of a woman that desires control. An honest person can see that Hillary is clearly unhappy and she believes the solution to her unhappiness is more power, which is not the case.

There are women that realize there are important differences between men and women, and these women are responsible caring wives and mothers. These mature women realize that feminism harms everyone and creates unhappiness and lawlessness.

We are witnessing the demise of our civilization at the hands of weak men and women that desire to control men. Women will be happier when they stop trying to control the men and return to God’s established order. God did not make Eve equal to Adam. Eve was not Adam’s slave; she was a helper to him. She was to assist him in his assigned tasks.

Woman, instead of seeking to snatch control from the man, must do what she was created to do and assist the man. Men must lead, which requires responsibility and masculine strength. A man truly shows he cares for the women and children in his life by leading instead of abdicating his role designated to him by God.

Read More: Who Was The First Man To Be Red Pilled?

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revengeisalwaysanoption · 4 years

Text

[Fic] All due respect here... (there's no respect due)

Let’s try one last time... I truly apologise if the cut doesn’t work on mobile, I am posting from my laptop.

Enough is enough, they're right. There’s only so much that can be forgiven, before one’s indulgence becomes a red flag. Loneliness is not an excuse, Martino.

“You need to put your foot down” they keep saying. “You need to draw a line and say: this is unacceptable. If you step over the line once you get a warning, but do it twice and we’re done.”

It's just that… you know… He feels so stupid, now? He has been so blind, so naïve and nearly let himself be played like a fiddle. Hurting those who really care about him, and for what? Approval?

The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. The signals were all there, for fuck’s sake!

Lulling him into a sense of comradery, that he had been missing ever since his friends from high school had all chosen different paths… Yeah, that’s how it had all started. With him, trying so desperately to fill that void. It hadn’t been as difficult as had imagined to bond over incomprehensible lectures, disgusting coffee and eclectic lifestyles. Francesco had been the first to approach him, complimenting his Apparat-inspired T-shirt and asking where he bought it. It hadn’t seen anything quite like it on the Internet, or he would have remembered! Deciding it was best to weed out the homophobes straight away, Martino told him the truth: it was a gift from his boyfriend. Not quite his usual style, but since it made Nico happy to see him wear it…

“Oh man, you’re so whipped.” Francesco had commented, instead, laughing. “But hey, who am I to judge? I’m actually a bit jealous, you know. No one ever made me something that cool. Do you think I could commission him one?”

Marti did, but he had been wrong. Niccolò wasn’t interested in designing clothes for anyone else, and while he was flattered by Fra’s proposal he would have to turn it down. Not exactly a great start, but Martino didn’t think much of it. This wasn’t kindergarten and surely Francesco wouldn’t hold that refusal against Nico.

Marina had literally saved his life, when he crossed the street and didn’t look as he was in the middle of some lovely banter with Niccolò. In return for her heroic deed, he was bound to treat her to lunch. Or a coffee, at least. The way she delivered that ridiculous request, wiggling her head and biting her lips – like a mischievous child, amused by their own audacity – reminded him so much of a certain someone… that he found himself discussing the top 10 TV shows betrayals of the decade (no! they were never going to forgive D&D for what he had done to Daenerys!) over a cappuccino. She might have been side-eyeing him for checking his phone a little too much, but he didn’t really care.

And then came Lorenzo. Well, it was actually Martino who had reached out to him. Who found him sitting on the floor of a dingy bathroom, crying his eyes out. Years ago, he would have stepped out and let someone else comfort a stranger. But then… Then he though ‘what I was the one sitting there? what if it was Nico? I don’t want to think everyone would just walk away and pretend they didn’t see him…’ and sat down next to him. He didn’t ask if he was okay, when he clearly wasn’t. He didn’t ask why he was so distraught. It wasn’t any of his business, and the question alone would have made this guy feel worse. It was a lesson he had learnt the hard way, through his own experience and Nico’s.

“Oi, you got 2 tens or 4 fives? Some spare coins? I’ve only 20€ in my wallet, and that fucking machine never gives you the right change if you put in more than a 10€ note.” He had asked, when Lori looked up.

“I… I…” He had said, sniffling. Frantically, he had started looking for the money and seemed truly sorry he couldn’t help Martino out.

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ll manage. So, what can I get you? You look like you could use some hot chocolate, though I’m afraid I can only find vaguely chocolatey-flavored water, around here.”

He didn’t think he would get to meet any of them ever again, and then one day he spotted them all sitting at the same table. It wasn’t like Martino had ever believed in fate, but that did seem like a coincidence straight out from a Norwegian teen drama. A French romance. Not that he had ever watched either of them, of course. An occurrence meant to show him that the universe had plans, for the four of them.

In hindsight, he should have told the universe where he could shove its plans…

For a while, however, Martino thought there could hardly be anybody on Earth who got luckier than him in when it came to friendship. They always knew where to find the next best party but didn’t mind spending a night in, binge-watching the latest trashy show that had been uploaded on Netflix. Playing FIFA. Discussing politics, and even ethics and philosophy when they were more than a little drunk.

Everything changed, however, when things started to get a bit more personal. When they started dispensing details about their crushes, their heartbreaks, and Martino foolishly felt comfortable enough to share more of his life with Nico. Painting quite an idyllic picture, as complaints and rants about his inability to tidy up a room and tendency to zone out when they were discussing financial matters would only ever be disclosed to Giovanni. Nevertheless, to say that they weren’t his biggest fans would be an understatement.

“Let me guess, it’s Nico. Again.”

“Okay… So, he can leave on read for hours, but starts panicking if you don’t answer straight away?”

“He put salt in your coffee because you weren’t paying attention? Is he… like, five or something? But well, if you find that endearing… You do you, man.”

And it only got worse after they met him, and began spinning a whole other narrative in which Martino was either a hero or a martyr, for ‘putting up’ with Nico.

“Oh, you're such a great guy not giving up on that.”

“You sure must love him a lot to endure all of his up and downs.”

He reassured them all, told them that he appreciated the concern but that they barely knew Niccolò so he wouldn’t stand for any further slandering of his boyfriend.

So they laid low, and stayed quiet, for a while. It hurt them to see Martino trapped in what clearly was an abusive relationship, but there was nothing more that could be said or done about it. Whenever Nico was mentioned, they changed the subject.

Until tonight. Asking them both to join them at a party, and then corner him and attempted to stage an ‘intervention’.

Couldn’t he see how possessive and controlling Niccolò was, manipulating Marti into thinking his new friends were out to get him?

“The two of you, against the world? Doesn’t it sound disturbing to you?”

“Marti, come on, you have to admit that he has controlling tendencies. He shouldn’t need to know where you are at all times, doing what, with whom. He shouldn’t come up and snatch you away, whenever he notices you spend time talking to the same person for more than 2 minutes.”

“It’s like he can’t stand not being at the center of your attention 100% of the time.”

How… How dare they? Who the fuck do they think they are?

“Get out of my face, you fuckers. If I hear you badmouthing Nico ever again, you’re gonna regret it.”

Thankfully, they don’t try to stop him when he storms out the room. The last thing he wants is to end up in a fight, and having Niccolò find out it was because of him. It had already happened once, with Malik and his friends, and… No revival of that was needed, thanks.

Little do they know about their late conversations, when Martino had indeed noticed was off with Niccolò and tried to find out how he could help. Because Marti couldn’t relate to the magnitude of Niccolò feelings, sure, but he had been there the year before. When everyone in Uni had seemed far more interesting that a boy who still attended high school…

Niccolò has a jealous streak, sure. That had been clear ever since he put in his pasta. But it wasn’t the ugly side of jealousy, stemming from a warped sense of ownership over him. It was more like… Feeling like he didn’t matter, of maybe being interest enough to catch someone’s attention but lacking in keep them entertained. Which in turn made him petty, vindictive, clingy. It was only a matter of time before Martino would agree with those guys, and leave him for good.

Marti tapped Nico's skull, then, and said to his brain "Stop with this bullshit. Stop making my boyfriend suffer, you asshole. You know nothing, zero, zilch, nil, nada. You're worse than Jon Snow.” He bent down to kiss his heart, and went on with "You, on the other hand… You know Nico's the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I'd be a fool not to cherish it. So what if he’s got some flaws? Who cares? Not me. One thing matters and it’s this: no else compares. So yeah, tell him he shouldn't worry: I'm not going anywhere."

"Ever?" He mumbled, not quite ready to believe Martino.

"Kim Jong-un, Nico. Remember?" Marti reminded him, smiling as he stroked his cheek.

"Right. How could I forget King-Kong-Là…" That made them both laugh, and they decided not to discuss the matter any further. They were far more pleasurable ways to spend their night together…

So yeah, screw them. Screw everyone who overanalyzes every little thing Niccolò does, who is always ready to point the finger at him and say that Martino deserves better.

Of course he does, duh. Better friends, for a start.

*********************** All due respect here... There's no respect due. So fuck you and you, and you and you. You're cool, but fuck you... And I'm out of here. (Swear Jar, Illy)

#skam italia #nicotino #my writing

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vitanes · 5 years

Text

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 13: love letter

Lucas doesn’t have a crush on anyone, Eliott paints the mural and something is really wrong but Lucas can’t figure out what.

(a/n: i passed all my exams! n im back! enjoy! tw: mental health issues)

“Okay, but what do you think about this one? Isn’t he cute?” Mika asks, shoving his phone in front of Lucas’ face.

They are sprawled out on the couch and Mika is half-lying on top of Lucas, entertaining himself with some dating app while Lucas is trying to focus on whatever is playing on the TV. It’s needless to say he’s unsuccessful.

He sighs and glances at the screen. There’s a smiling guy looking back at him, wearing a snapback backwards and flexing his muscles. Shirtless.

Lucas looks sceptically at Mika and raises an eyebrow at him.

“He’s okay, I guess. I didn’t know you were into frat boys,” Lucas says, letting his eyes wander back to the TV.

“Have you seen those abs? I’m easy. Besides, he liked me first. I thrive off flattery,” Mika replies cockily, a smirk audible in his voice. He shifts a couple of centimetres up, digging his elbow into Lucas’ side in the process. It takes all of Lucas’ willpower not to push him off.

He groans. “What an attention whore.”

“Just a Leo,” Mika says with a snort. Lucas rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. He thinks the discussion is over and gets back to the movie just for Mika to poke him in the cheek. He glares at him.

“What.”

“Why don’t you set up an account somewhere?” Mika asks with excitement in his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because apps like that aren’t for minors? And call me old-fashioned but I’d rather not meet someone online.” Lucas is a romantic at heart and there’s nothing more like simply wanting to meet eyes with a boy and instantly knowing it’s the one. It’s more magical than asking some strangers for hook-ups on the Internet.

Mika eyes him with pity and pats the top of Lucas’ head. “I wish it was that simple,” he murmurs and goes back to his phone, this time with much more serious expression.

He’s probably thinking that Lucas is naïve and perhaps he’s right, but Lucas is pretty sure he’s allowed to be when he’s still a kid. Something in the way Mika’s eyebrows are drawn together tells Lucas that he knows it, too.

Lucas watches him for a good minute, digging his fingers into the cushions of the couch. They’ve never talked about this stuff without having it written off as a joke, but Lucas is curious. He doesn’t know that much about Mika, although a part of him wants to.

“Hey… have you ever been in love?” he asks. With how closely Lucas is watching Mika, he notices the exact second he stops in his tracks for a moment, caught off guard by Lucas’ question.

Eventually, he quietly replies, “Yeah. Once.”

“How did it end?”

“Badly.” Mika looks up at Lucas, sending his way a sad smile. “Not sure I’ll ever get over it, but,” he shrugs one shoulder, “life goes on. Can’t move forward if I keep being stuck in the past, can I?” There’s something really raw and honest on Mika’s face. It’s the first time Lucas is seeing him like this and he wants to say something, catch this moment and hold it for a while, but Mika has different plans. The lines on his face smoothen out and this split second of vulnerability is gone before Lucas can even process it. “Guess who’s got a date tomorrow,” Mika changes the topic. He winks at Lucas and looks back at his phone.

He seems carefree, but Lucas can feel that the tension still hasn’t left his body. Lucas idly wonders how lonely and hurt Mika must be. It’s a bit tragic and contradictory, given his personality. Lucas hopes the same won’t happen to him.

“By the way, what about you?” Mika asks, this time not glancing away from his phone, already engrossed in the guy he’s talking to.

“What about me?” Lucas replies, confused.

“Any crushes?” Mika wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

“No, there’s no one,” Lucas says just as his own phone vibrates. He pulls it out of his pocket and unlocks the screen. He smiles under his nose, his fingers already tapping out a reply.

“Who’s that?” Lucas can feel Mika’s eyes on the side of his face, but this time it’s him who doesn’t look up.

“Eliott,” he says, biting down on his bottom lip when Eliott sends out another message.

Mika makes a weird noise next to him. “Okaaay,” he draws out, uncertain, but Lucas pays him no mind.

***

The mural is standing big and proud before Lucas’ eyes, but he can’t believe in what he’s seeing. Neither can any of them, really, although Lucas’ case is special.

It was a usual Monday morning. They all met up before school, noting Eliott’s absence but being already used to it. They didn’t think anything of it aside from a bit of concern. Then, Emma texted Yann to quickly come to the common room. It’s needless to say they weren’t very excited about it, given the circumstances, but eventually, they went there. What met them once they arrived, was rather unexpected. And still is.

Eliott has painted the whole mural.

“W–when have you done it?” Arthur stutters out in disbelief.

“Today morning,” Eliott replies simply, threading his fingers through his hair. There’s paint all over him, whole mixes of colours creating galaxies over his skin. Despite that, Lucas can’t look away from the painting.

“It’s eight in the morning,” Basile states dumbly.

“I came here after four,” Eliott says like it’s nothing.

“Wait, you broke in?” Imane asks cautiously. There’s something in her voice that Lucas can’t put a name to.

Eliott snorts. “No, I told the night guard that it’s for the project and he let me in,” Eliott explains as if the mere idea of him breaking in was absurd.

“Just like that?” Alexia asks doubtfully.

There’s a pause and then, “Took me some begging, but yeah.” He sounds sheepish.

“How did you manage to make it look like that? It should take you much longer,” Yann says in awe.

“I was suddenly really inspired.”

Lucas has barely blinked ever since he walked in. He hasn’t said anything either. He’s not sure he will be able to utter anything coherent. Eliott told him about some surprise over the texts, but Lucas sure as fuck didn’t suspect something like that.

There are crazy splashes of colours all over the place, but in the centre are two silhouettes, painted in black, clearly dancing, holding onto one another, one of them hiding their face in the other’s neck. Lucas gulps when his eyes fall on the words scribbled around the dancers.

In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.

Lucas can’t take his eyes off it because he knows how easy to read he’d be then.

Despite the chaotic colours surrounding the two characters, they are shielding each other. It feels personal, private. Lucas wants to reach out and trace the lines of the taller silhouette, but he can’t since the paint is still wet. The longer he looks at the exact moment Eliott has confessed to him, the more out of breath he is.

Eliott has painted him a love letter for everyone to see and Lucas doesn’t know what to think about it.

Eliott said he didn’t expect anything from him, but does it still stand? Is it just a selfless expression of his feelings? Then why use that quote? Why expose such an intimate moment between them?

Someone taps him on the shoulder, startling him and he flinches. He looks to the side and Eliott is right there, looking anxiously everywhere but at Lucas and having this expectant glint in his eyes.

Lucas briefly glances at others, who are still admiring the painting, and then back at Eliott.

“Do you like it?” Eliott asks, finally looking up at Lucas. They both know what it means, this whole mural, but neither of them is ready to acknowledge it. Lucas because he has no idea what to say about it while Eliott is probably too shy.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful. But…” he lowers his voice, leaning closer to Eliott, “…I thought that you didn’t want. Because of, you know.” Lucas nods subtly towards Daphne.

Eliott scratches the side of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t do it for her,” he says, staring at Lucas meaningfully. The implication of his words makes Lucas speechless.

Thank God, he’s saved from replying by Arthur coming up to them and throwing his arms around their shoulders. Coincidentally bringing them pretty close together.

“Wow, it’s amazing, dude,” he says, grinning.

Yeah, Lucas thinks, it really is.

***

Lucas is pretty lost. He’s got no idea how to act around Eliott after what he’s done. He can’t confront him about it, but he also can’t forget. Eliott’s feelings are out in the open, almost in Lucas’ hands and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt him. Lucas has already had enough on his plate, mostly focusing on finding the blackmailer. But now, he can’t stop thinking about the painting. It’s been two days and it’s almost the only thing on his mind.

Eliott must have sensed something is up because he’s been more tentative around Lucas. Maybe he’s only now realising how grand his gesture was. How they can’t simply brush it off like they did with his confession.

Or maybe it’s all in Lucas’ head. Perhaps it’s only him mulling it over endlessly while everyone else has already moved on.

Arthur snapped a picture of the mural, in case someone decided to paint over it. Lucas has saved it.

And maybe that’s the issue. Because it’s for him, it was painted for him and belongs to him, but everyone else can look at it. Maybe that bothers him more than Eliott going out of his way to remind him about his feelings. It’s the fact it was supposed to be theirs. The moment of the confession, the time it was Eliott who was vulnerable and clinging onto Lucas and not the other way around. In a way, it brought them even closer than they were before. It was an important moment for both of them, but while Lucas would rather keep it deep within himself, Eliott is an artist, ready to let the whole world know.

It could also be the fact no one has ever thought of Lucas like that, done such a thing. He’s always thinking of himself lowly and there Eliott is, making him feel big. It’s a bit scary and confusing. This whole situation is like that. Lucas isn’t used to it. He’s a bit overwhelmed. He’s pretty sure that if Eliott had painted this on a small canvas and gave it to him, he wouldn’t be gnawing on it as much now. As it is at the moment, all Lucas wants to do is hide between his sheets.

The funny thing is that he shouldn’t feel that embarrassed by the fact other people can see the mural. They don’t know that it’s about Eliott and him. No one probably even suspects it because they never gave people the reason to think otherwise. But the sole fact that Lucas knows is enough for him to blush each time he passes the common room.

Besides, people aren’t stupid. Sure, they may not connect anything to him. Figuring out Eliott has someone he painted it for, though, is inevitable. Lucas doesn’t really want people to bother him about it.

On the other hand, Eliott must have taken that into account and he still decided to make it.

God, Lucas’ head is a mess. Complete mess. He doesn’t have time to dwell on this teenage angst, there are more concerning matters in his life.

He’s been trying to find a lead on the blackmailer without actually talking to Daphne(or Imane for that matter) for the past week. He put so much effort into going through people’s social media, spending sleepless nights in hopes he would find the answers. He hasn’t been sure what exactly he was looking for; a picture, maybe, where Daphne is with someone sketchy. But no matter how deep he’s been digging, there was nothing.

When he was at the police station he talked about this and yeah, it’s a crime that someone could be punished for, but they’ve found out the number that sent the messages was bought, generated. The case was still registered, but they can’t do anything. They asked Lucas all kinds of questions, like if he had some enemies or whether he knew someone who could benefit from this situation, but his mind was completely blank. Devoid of suspects.

He wants revenge and justice and yet, he’s pretty sure he reached the dead-end. His gut is telling him to give up and finally focus on school, but his resolve is making him want to fight more.

In the grand scheme of things, this problem seems much more engaging that Eliott and his mural. Try telling it to a sixteen-year-old and his brain, though.

God, when will Lucas get some rest?

***

Lucas hasn’t been avoiding Imane, per se, but he’s been trying not to be with her alone ever since he asked her about Daphne. He can’t really avoid her anyway, no matter how hard he tries they do have a class together and share a desk. Much to Lucas’ surprise, though, Imane doesn’t try to corner him as soon as he sits down. That’s what he expected, given how every time they were in the same room she’d send him questioning looks. But now she only glances up at him and greets him before going back to her textbook.

It’s almost unnerving and so not like her to give up on finding the truth. Unless she forgot or decided it wasn’t worth her time. She, after all, is the one who has her priorities straight and unlike other people, she doesn’t push when she realises it won’t get her anywhere.

Lucas is almost disappointed. Not because he wanted to be bugged about his business, but because of how he tried to stay away from Imane and was dreading their shared class for the past few days, despite the fact he enjoys it. In the end it was all for nothing. At least that’s the conclusion he reaches as he starts taking books out of his backpack.

“I know,” Imane says ominously and Lucas looks at her, frowning.

“Hm?”

“Daphne told me,” Imane explains, her tone pinched. Her eyes are glued to her notebook when she says the next words, “I’d expect a lot from her, but not this, you know? She started crying while telling me and I had no idea what to say because I couldn’t feel any sympathy for her. Does it make sense?” Imane asks, meeting Lucas’ eyes. She seems apologetic even if none of this is her fault.

“Yeah, it does,” Lucas replies.

“And she only told me. I don’t know why.”

“I’m sorry she put you in this position.” Quite fucked up that Daphne just can’t tell everyone and let them make their decision, but only bothered with him and Imane, having them be left with this dilemma.

“She trusted me with this, but it’s so,” she shakes her head. “I can’t really act around her like before. And I feel responsible in a way. Because she’s my friend.” Imane puts a hand over her forehead and closes her eyes, visibly frustrated.

“But you aren’t her babysitter,” Lucas counters.

“Yeah, but if I was with her back then I could’ve stopped her. I was sober, she wasn’t.”

It’s good that the teacher still hasn’t come, otherwise, their conversation would have been cut short. Considering that Imane feels guilty, Lucas needs to prove to her that she hasn’t done anything wrong.

“But she isn’t five and if she can’t act normally when drunk, she shouldn’t go near alcohol. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s just fucking shitty she expects you to pick a side now,” Lucas says, curling his fingers up into fists. God, he’s angry again. Why can’t Daphne be decent for like five minutes?

“I asked her to tell the girls but I don’t know. I hope that she will try to do better in the future,” Imane says and sighs deeply. Yeah, one can only wait for Daphne to grow, learn a lesson. Lucas just wishes it didn’t have to happen with him being fucked over in the process.

“We will see,” Lucas comments, pursing his lips. Imane peeks an eye open.

“I know it’s not much but I’ve been thinking about it a lot and the only thing I could remember was that some guy called me from Daphne’s phone, asking me to pick her up. He could have been the one to steal the pictures. She was alone when I got to her,” Imane says and Lucas can feel the blood rushing in his ears. She’s right it’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever gotten. If only Daphne hadn’t been so wasted, he could ask her if she remembered something. Fuck.

“She didn’t tell you if it was someone random or a friend?” Lucas asks, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

“No. She was nearly passed out when I found her. I doubt she’d even remember she asked someone to call. Could be anyone. Sorry that I can’t help more,” Imane says, glancing down in resignation.

“It’s okay,” Lucas replies just as the teacher walks into the classroom.

The whole situation is messed up but Imane is the last person Lucas would even consider blaming. He tells her just as much when the class is finished and she hugs him so tightly he’s pretty sure his ribs would be broken if she put any more strength into it.

***

It’s the middle of the night and Lucas knows it only because his phone is persistently buzzing, waking him up in the process. He blindly reaches out for the device and blinks a couple of times, the light hurting his eyes. The first thing he notices is that it’s after 3 AM and the second – it’s Eliott calling him. Lucas frowns. Odd.

“’ello?” he answers, barely containing a yawn.

“Did I wake you?” Eliott asks. His voice seems muffled.

“I mean… it’s pretty late.” Lucas rubs a hand over his eyes and lies on his back. “Somethin’ happen?”

“Just wanted to hear you. I was actually thinking I could visit you, but decided against it. What would Mika say if I stayed the night, right?” Eliott jokes and gets a snort our of Lucas.

“It’s flattering, but you’re gonna hear me tomorrow,” Lucas says dumbly.

“Yeah, but I just had to. Sorry.”

“’s okay,” Lucas slurs. “You got me worried,” he explains, sighing.

“I can’t turn my brain off, my ex has been an ass about it. I thought that maybe you could help a little,” Eliott says quietly, especially the last part, almost as if he didn’t want Lucas to hear it.

Lucas ignores the whole ex thing and focuses on the rest. Insomnia? Lucas has some experience with that. There’s nothing quite like the chaos in your head and feeling like a living corpse during the day because you haven’t slept properly in days.

“How can I help?” Lucas offers.

“I don’t know. It’s always peaceful with you. Maybe I just don’t want to be alone when I’m like this.”

How can Eliott say things like that and expect Lucas to ignore it?

Lucas clears his throat. “Like what? You can’t sleep, it’s okay, remember it’s not the end of the world even if it feels like it,” Lucas says, hoping it will calm Eliott down.

Eliott lets out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah. I just have a lot of energy, I guess. I think I’ll go for a run.”

Lucas arches an eyebrow at that. Who would go for a run so late? He can’t imagine doing that no matter how restless he’d be. But each to their own, he supposes.

“’kay. Sorry for not being the best help,” Lucas says, genuinely apologetic.

“You are the best. Period. Okay, sleep well. See you later,” Eliott says and without waiting for Lucas to reply, he hangs up.

Lucas puts his phone down and settles comfortably on the bed, unable to shake off a weird feeling. He drags his hand down the empty side of his bed and sighs. He falls asleep thinking that maybe Eliott being here wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

***

“So, how was the run?” Lucas asks when they’re all seated by their table in the cafeteria. He woke up still feeling weird and had to check his calls to see whether he hasn’t dreamed of it, but no, Eliott really called him in the middle of the night. Had he been more awake, he’d have stopped Eliott from doing whatever he’s done.

Everyone, including Eliott, sends him questioning looks, but Lucas pays them no mind, solely focusing his gaze on Eliott. It takes a few seconds, but the realisation eventually dawns upon Eliott and he opens his mouth.

“It was good. Feeling sore, though,” he says, grinning towards Lucas. “I’ve been studying for my exams,” Eliott changes the topic, digging into his potatoes. “The material is so hard, but I’m sort of getting it. I read so many books in the last few days I feel like my head’s about to explode.”

“Explode with knowledge!” Basile jokes and Eliott bursts out laughing before launching into a story he’s read online recently.

He gets a little lost halfway through and changes the topic again. The guys indulge him, but Lucas can’t help feeling uneasy. He squints his eyes. Eliott is too jumpy for some reason.

Maybe it’s his ex-girlfriend that he mentioned during their phone call? Lucas doesn’t even know their story so who knows how much effect she can have on him. Or it’s about the exams that are looming over them. Whatever it is, something tells Lucas it’s not good. He wishes he could help Eliott calm down, talk with him, but Eliott seems so far away. He’s so close yet completely out of reach. From the very beginning of the week, since the mural.

What if it’s Lucas’ fault? Eliott is nervous because Lucas hasn’t said anything about it, quite literally decided to ignore what Eliott’s done. But then again, it’d go against him telling Lucas that he didn’t want anything from him.

Lucas could just ask, but he isn’t sure Eliott would tell him. There’s only one thing Lucas is certain of – something is bothering Eliott.

Someone waves a hand in front of Lucas’ face, snapping him out of his thoughts. He jumps and realises that when he zoned out, he was literally staring at Eliott. Which, given Arthur’s suspicions from the last week, doesn’t put him in the best position.

“You okay?” Yann asks, a line of worry appearing between his eyebrows.

“Yeah, just thinking,” he says, shrugging. He’s trying to come off as cool despite being caught staring at one of them. Lucas isn’t sure how well it goes, but no one comments on his weird behaviour.

Eliott throws a French fry at him and it smacks Lucas straight on the nose. “Don’t think too much or you’ll end up like me,” he says and winks at him.

Lucas tilts his head to the side. What does that even mean?

“Anyways, okay, guys, what about we chill tomorrow a bit? In the park? It’s been a while since we spent Friday together,” Basile suggests, grinning at them eagerly.

Yeah, it sounds nice. Considering all the turmoil Lucas has been through, it really has been some time since he simply relaxed with his friends. Sure, there were brief moments but nothing like what they’d do usually.

“Sounds pretty good. I think I have some weed stashed somewhere. I could bring it,” Arthur says excitedly.

“Tomorrow after school?” Yann asks them and they all nod.

Lucas is still concerned about Eliott so maybe tomorrow will be also a good occasion to check if everything is alright. Smoking could loosen Eliott up and make him talk a bit.

***

Lucas takes a drag and passes the joint to Basile. He releases the smoke after holding it in and leans back against the grass. He can literally feel the tension leaving his body. He hadn't realised how much he’s needed it up until now.

They are lying around in a secluded area of the park, save from any prying eyes. Free to do whatever they want for as long as they need to. They’re on their second joint and sure, having it shared between five people won’t be as effective as it normally would be, but Lucas still feels much lighter.

It’s mostly quiet aside from music playing from Arthur’s phone. They don’t talk much despite Lucas having wanted to get some information out of Eliott. He thinks that maybe later. At the moment, he feels like taking a nap. Or just staring at the sky. It’s really fucking blue today and the weather is warm. They chose a great day to hang out.

Lucas sighs heavily just as Eliott plops down next to him. Lucas turns his head to the side and meets his eyes. Lucas’ fingertips itch to move Eliott’s fringe away from his eyes, but he keeps his hand to himself. It’s a weird thought to have about your friend.

“What’s up?” Lucas asks and when Eliott does nothing but look at him, Lucas nudges him in the side.

“You look pretty like that,” Eliott blurts out, his eyes glinting and Lucas’ breath hitches in his throat. He looks around to see if any of the guys has heard it, but no one seems to have paid attention.

Lucas lets out a nervous chuckle, ignoring the warmth climbing up his neck. “Thanks,” he mutters, his eyes settling on some random spot on Eliott’s t-shirt.

Eliott shuffles even closer to him. “Can I hold your hand?”

Lucas bites on the inside of his cheek, his heart speeding up for some reason. Why’s he feeling so lightheaded all of sudden? Must be the weed. What else?

“Yeah,” he breathes out, inching his palm towards Eliott. It doesn’t have any meaning. They do hold hands sometimes for comfort. Lucas has held hands with plenty of his friends.

Eliott grabs Lucas’ palm in his and entwines their fingers together. He squeezes once and Lucas’ heart skips a beat.

Lucas closes his eyes in order not to look at Eliott’s face. He’s scared of what it could make him feel.

“I’m so happy I could die right now,” Eliott whispers.

Lucas snorts. “What?”

“I don’t think I could be happier than this. Dying would be the best option at the moment so that would be the last feeling in my life. And I’d die next to you,” Eliott says, his thumb rubbing the back of Lucas’ hand.

“What? Don’t say something like that,” Lucas replies, half-heartedly hitting Eliott in the chest with his free hand.

Eliott lets out a laugh. “Sorry,” he pauses. “How many Lucases and Eliotts are lying down like that now?”

Lucas hums thoughtfully and settles on, ”Probably a lot.”

Eliott huffs and Lucas can feel him shaking his head. “All of them,” he says, convinced.

“Why’re you asking if you know the answer?”

“Because I wanted to know yours,” Eliott replies, honesty audible in his voice.

Lucas doesn’t say anything to this because he has no idea which words would be fitting. The mood is too nice for him to open his mouth and ruin it. So he stays quiet, breathing Eliott’s smell in and slowly feeling himself drift off. He doesn’t even register the moment Eliott disappears from beside him.

***

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Lucas hears through the fog in his mind. Someone shakes his shoulders, but it’s not the same person who spoke. The voice is more distant, that’s how he knows it’s not towards him.

Lucas blinks his eyes open. The first thing he notices is that it’s darker than he remembers from before he fell asleep. The second is Arthur hovering over him, his expression tense.

“Something bad is happening with Eliott,” he whispers, reaching his hand up to help Lucas sit up.

“What?” Lucas asks after being hoisted up. His eyes immediately jump towards where he can hear quiet murmurs from. Eliott looks barely present, with an almost haunted look on his face. Basile and Yann are crouching on both of his sides, talking to him, but barely getting any responses.

“After you fell asleep he started being really jittery, kept walking around. At first, we brushed it off, but it kept getting worse and worse. We had to stop him from running off,” Arthur explains as they walk up to where the three boys are.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Lucas asks, keeping his eyes on Eliott.

“It started getting really bad like ten to fifteen minutes ago,” Yann says.

They had more things to keep their eyes on than thinking of waking Lucas up. Understandable.

Basile is still talking to Eliott, trying to keep him grounded. Eliott’s replies are quiet and chaotic. Something is off about this situation and Lucas is pretty sure that four stoned teenagers won’t be able to deal with it well if it keeps escalating.

“We should call his parents,” Lucas says.

“Yeah. If it’s what I think it is, we better do that,” Basile says, his voice full of seriousness.

Lucas gulps, watching Eliott, and his heart breaks. He should have seen it coming sooner.

#elu #elu fanfic #elu fic #skam france #skam france fic #skam france fanfic #lucas x eliott #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Betting on the Bullseye (Part 2)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature:

A/N: Hey, hey, hey! This is back with more words, very few of which are Christmas-related like the original. We’re slowing down a bit - but still going pretty fast in my feeble attempt to keep this in five (it was four lol) parts - moving into a bit more realism (if you can call it that), and seeing what happens after that video bet date. Double line break means change in POV.

Entire story found on ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma

Killian flies back to Los Angeles before noon, but he leaves her apartment at a little past nine, his dress shirt ruffled almost as much as his hair, the black strands sticking up in a million directions.

It’s, well, it’s awkward.

Really, really awkward.

After texting Ruby back, promising to call her later to give all of the details – or really to take away from all of the details that Ruby has most likely crafted in that mind of hers – she gently shook Killian awake, shaking him until his eyelids fluttered open to reveal tired blue eyes that blew wide when he saw her. For a moment, she thought he was shocked, like he had no idea where he was, and maybe he didn’t. If she woke up in a strange place with someone she barely knew – okay, so maybe she has a little experience in that area – she’d likely scream or get the hell out of there. But Killian had simply rubbed his eyes before mumbling a g’morning, love to her.

He hadn’t had much time to talk, none really, jumping around her messy shack of an apartment putting his shoes on and using her mouthwash as an impromptu replacement for a toothbrush while she made him a cup of coffee. She’d meant to tell him about the photos Ruby had sent her, the ones that had caused her heart to race for more reasons than one, but they slipped her mind as he practically ran out the door with a smile and the smallest of waves accompanied by words she barely remembers.

And with her favorite travel mug.

It had swans on it.

A heavy weight settled in her stomach, something entirely unfamiliar, and all she could think about was how stupid she was. What the hell was she doing kissing Killian Jones? A man who lives across the country from her, a man who she barely knows and will never see again, and a man who has a face that the world recognizes. There are damn pictures of them. And maybe the video of her asking him out on a date won’t haunt her forever, but paparazzi pictures of them kissing sure as hell will.

Killian’s a good guy. She knows this. Something in her gut tells her that he wasn’t acting last night, so there’s no way he simply kissed her out of obligation or to tease her, right? He had to mean it. There had to be…feelings involved.

Maybe it was just a one-time (or two-time) thing.

After all, how can you really have feelings for someone after one night?

You can’t, or maybe you can, but she shouldn’t feel like an anchor has rooted itself in her stomach.

In all honesty, she feels a bit used, which is ridiculous. If anything, she used Killian. Well, no. She didn’t use him. She lost a bet and asked him to be her date. But then she used that date and his high profile to help raise money for charity. So she used him for charity? Does that even count? Does any of this count?

Fuck, she has no idea what’s going on or how to feel. Confusion is pretty much all she understands right now…and she barely understands that.

Killian Jones isn’t exactly high on her list right now when he’d been at the very top less than ten hours ago.

She doesn’t even have a way to contact him besides his agent’s number. Would he even want that? Would she even want that? Was it just that one-time thing that she tricked herself into thinking otherwise? Does he go around kissing all of the girls he goes on video bet dates with? God, even in her head that sounds absolutely ridiculous.

Sighing, she tries to forget about it, stripping out of her jumpsuit and hopping into the shower, letting the hot water wash over her, her mascara dripping down her face and her foundation smearing as she wipes it on the towel, having foolishly grabbed a white one instead of the dark blue ones where the stains are easier to hide or wash away. It looks like a clown fell into the towel, and that alone causes her to giggle, her body lightening the slightest bit. She’s being overdramatic and frankly a bit ridiculous, and even though it nags at her for the rest of her shower, it’s nagging from somewhere in the back.

It was a date that’s not going to have a follow-up. She’s had more of those than she can count, and even if this date was a business deal and with Killian Jones, he’s still just a guy. She wouldn’t get this worked up for anyone else. She hasn’t in a long time, and she doesn’t plan on it happening anytime soon.

Emma goes about her day as normal, puttering around the apartment cleaning and completely and totally ignoring her phone even as it occasionally vibrates from its perch on the kitchen counter.

It’s a little past eight in the evening when she caves in her goal of not looking at her phone, and it’s really only because she’s on her second glass of wine. Nevertheless, she settles on a barstool, one hand holding her wine, the liquid sloshing around, and the other thumbing through her phone.

There are a few texts from Ruby, most of them more details from Ruby’s night outside of the time she spent with she and Killian – apparently, she met a super nice girl at the gala and has a date with her Friday night. The other notifications are mostly from her boss, emails and financial details about how successful they were last night. She responds to those first, making sure that everything she types is as professional as possible, before going through the rest of her phone. She has a few missed calls, numbers that look like scam or telemarketers, and she quickly deletes those. After all of those little red notifications go away, she moves to the couch, flopping down and holding her phone above her chest as she scrolls through Instagram.

Everything’s normal, just her usual friends and people she met, like, once in college that somehow found her and decided she was worth a follow so she followed them back, until she gets to a picture of a coffee mug…with swans on it…sitting on the tray table of an airplane seat along with a stack of papers with a blacked-out title that looks like some kind of thick script.

KillianJonesOfficial: Boston > L.A. with a souvenir not sold in stores and a little light reading over a secret project I can’t wait to share with you guys!

She can’t help the smile that blooms on her face, her body doing a little dance even though she’s still a little pissed that he stole her mug and at the whole way that he kind of ditched her this morning. But her alcohol tolerance is lower than it used to be, and her glasses of wine were a little bit on the larger side. She likes the photo, scrolling down and commenting even though she knows that he won’t see it.

Yeah, so she’s definitely a lightweight and the tiniest bit inebriated.

Emma710Swan: Hey thief, I want my mug back. It’s apparently not sold in stores, so I don’t know what I’m going to do to get another one.

She doesn’t think anything of her comment until she wakes up the next morning with so many notifications on her home screen that her phone doesn’t even show them all. They’re all from Instagram, and when she logs on, she sees that she has hundreds of replies to her comment on Killian’s post as well as thousands of follower requests. She doesn’t…she doesn’t know what to do with all of this information, especially when she accidentally clicks on the popular page and sees all of those paparazzi photos of she and Killian plastered across her screen. She knew they existed, wasn’t really thatbothered by it, but suddenly she’s facing the reality of this whole thing.

Her life is public knowledge now, pictures of her kissing someone far too famous for anyone’s well-being all across the internet. She can’t stop looking, continuously scrolling and seeing more pictures from the gala everywhere, different filters and captions and all things she wasn’t prepared to see.

“Oh God,” she mumbles when a few hateful messages pop up. She can’t look at those, no matter how much she wants to, and she throws her phone across the bed, letting it bounce on the mattress until it falls to the floor. “This is so, so not good.”

Her office phone rings, the shrill sound something she’s tired of hearing over the past few days as it’s been going off non-stop. She’s had to become a hermit in her own life, something she never thought would happen after simply kissing a guy. Okay, so she’s boarded herself away after going on dates before, but that’s because she’s either been heartbroken or too pissed off to want to do anything. But this was one date, a thing that was really more of a business arrangement that happened to end up with her actually having a good time, and it’s wreaking more havoc on her life than any of the heartbreaks in her past.

Well, Neal was pretty fucked up, but she tries to push that to the back of her mind, somewhere under piles of much better things that didn’t break her so damn much.

She hasn’t even heard from Killian again, and maybe that’s what’s making her feel so bitter still. Was it all some kind of game to him? Why the hell does she still care? She needs to get over it.

“What?” she groans into the phone, her tone so harsh that she cringes knowing it’s probably her boss calling with the luck that she has.

“Swan?”

Oh.

That’s not her boss. That’s Killian.

Fuck.

All she’s wanted was for him to call, and now it’s taking every ounce of strength in her body not to hang up on him. Maybe it’s curiosity that keeps her from hanging up, or maybe it’s a bit of hope that she hasn’t been going crazy the past few days for nothing.

“What do you want, Killian?”

“Love, I’ve been trying to call you for days, but you haven’t answered your cell phone. Or your office phone.”

“But what do you want?” she hisses, propping her phone between her cheek and her shoulders as she crosses her arms over her chest. Logically, she knows that some of this mania is her fault. She kissed him back, she invited him into the apartment, and she commented on his Instagram. But she also didn’t know that there would paparazzi stalking outside of her apartment (because wow, super creepy and invasive on so many levels) or that commenting on his Instagram would cause such mania. She didn’t even realize that anyone would see it or that it’d create such a frenzy. How the hell can a couple of pictures and an Instagram comment make her life this insane? How do people live like this?

Killian didn’t know those things either, though. His only fault has really been the way he left things between them…and he’s apparently tried to call. Damn. She has no idea what to do or how to deal with any of these things. Listening to Killian would probably be a good start.

“Well, I wanted to talk about the pictures of us, and then all of the media abuse you’ve likely been facing if what I’ve heard is correct or if my Instagram is any indication. And I also just wanted to talk to you. I had a good time on Saturday, love, and my poor goodbye on Sunday beside, I was hoping maybe I could continue to get to know you.”

Oh fuck. Oh damn. Oh hell. She can’t think of a single word that’s not “oh” or a curse that she encourages the kids at the shelter not to use.

“Killian, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Did you…do you not feel the same?”

He sounds so broken, his accent going more high pitched and cracking on words that it shouldn’t. She doesn’t know what she wants or how she feels.

“No, I did. I do. It’s just,” she sighs, running her hands through her hair and completely ruining her braid, “I’m a nobody. And I don’t mean that in a bad way or a self-pitying way. But I’m someone who can go to the grocery store and buy a tub of ice cream, and no one knows about it but me and the guy assisting with self-checkout. I live in a shitty apartment because I like it that way, and when I go out with my friends, no one notices. After one night with you, though, there are pictures of me online, people outside of my apartment, death threats online, and people calling into the office who have no interest in actually working with the shelter.”

He’s silent on the other line for a moment too long, making her think that she’s lost him until he shudders. “Shit, love. I’m sorry. I knew it was bad, but I was hoping you hadn’t actually experienced everything that I feared.”

“Well, I have. And your less than spectacular exit on Sunday hasn’t exactly made me feel great. It honestly made me feel kind of cheap. Killian, Saturday night was fun, something that I didn’t expect after, you know, only asking you out on a super embarrassing bet. I thought it’d be like a business arrangement, but then we ended up having a good time. I don’t know if you were acting or – ”

“I wasn’t acting.”

“Or what,” she continues, trying to talk through his words and calm the erratic beating of her heart, “but I’m just not sure that I can allow my life to be in upheaval over some guy I barely know. I’ve been through that enough.”

“I get that, Swan, and if you don’t want to give me a chance, I’ll move on and leave you be. But I’d at least like to get to know you.”

“How would that even work? You live across the country. I’m busy. You’re busy.”

“Phone, texts, facetime. You get to know me as a friend from far away, and then if you decide you’d like to see me again, I’m on a plane. If not, well, then we never have to see each other again. And I’ll make a statement to try to clear up some of this mess, okay? Just give me a shot?”

She doesn’t know why, but she gives him her personal number and says yes.

Her day continues to be absolutely insane, the phone calls never stopping and all of her coworkers but Ruby giving judgmental, disdainful looks. She’s putting everyone through hell with the calls they’re getting, and it’s like every thankful hug and word she got on Saturday for helping to bring in the money they’ll be using to help fund their Christmas has been taken back. The only real solace she has is Ruby, who goes out and buys her a cheeseburger and fries for lunch so that she doesn’t have to leave the office. It’s like she’s back in middle school. She’s twenty-eight years old and living in middle school.

“They’re just frustrated, Ems,” Ruby consoles, swiping her own fries in a strawberry milkshake that it’s far too cold to be drinking, “and maybe a little jealous. I mean, come on. You kissed Killian Jones Saturday night, and Kathryn’s boyfriend got drunk and threw up.”

“It was just a kiss.”

“Okay sure, honey. Whatever you tell yourself.”

She takes a bite of her cheeseburger, letting her junk food help her deal with everything. “He called me today. Said he wants to get to know me more.”

“Shit. What’d you say?”

“I mean, I complained about the last few days because I feel like I’m in a fishbowl, but,” she shrugs her shoulders and grimaces, “I said yes. I’m crazy, and I said yes.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re dating Killian Jones.”

“I’m getting to know Killian Jones. And it’s a secret.”

Just then Ruby’s phone chimes, and she smirks before her brows furrow together and her fingers scroll down the screen. “Your secret lover boy is talking about you on Instagram.”

“What?” She practically jumps around her desk, leaving her food and sticking her hands out until she gets Ruby’s phone. Sure enough, there’s a photo of the two of them from the gala, laughing at their table at dinner.

KillianJonesOfficial: Hi, friends! I don’t usually like to get serious on here, especially when it comes to something that should have been lighthearted. Emma Swan asked me out on a date through a video, and I agreed because I wanted to support Boston Children’s Shelter. Miss Swan and I had a wonderful time supporting several charities, and the end of our night was documented by photographers. I won’t deny any of that or what the pictures show, but Miss Swan and I are simply friends. If you all could be so kind, I’d appreciate it if everyone stopped invading her private life and her work life. She didn’t ask for her life to be invaded, and I think we would all be better served spending our time doing things that matter. It’s still early in the holiday season, and there’s much giving to be done! Thank you!

“Well, damn,” Ruby whistles, causing Emma to look up from the phone, her cheeks so hot that if someone touched them, she’s sure they could burn flesh, “you’ve got it bad.”

“Ruby.”

“I know, I know. Emma Swan doesn’t fall for a man in one night. She’s got walls and is guarded and all that jazz, but girl, if the smile on your face says anything, you’ve got it bad.”

Emma Swan: Okay, what question am I on?

Emma Swan: And this doesn’t count as a question, bud.

He laughs before scrolling through his phone, trying to find her question number, but they haven’t really been following the rules of twenty questions anyways. They’ve each got to be on at least seventy now with follow up questions. It’s been going on like this for nearly three weeks. They send texts back and forth, the occasional call when he’s on a break from filming reshoots of his last movie and doesn’t have time to be texting, but it’s mostly them getting to know each other in the simplest of ways. It had been awkward when he’d first texted her, the conversations stilted like they had been when he picked her up at her apartment, and he’d foolishly suggested they play twenty questions.

He’s thirty-two years old, and he’s playing twenty questions with the girl he likes.

Killian Jones: I don’t think it matters, but I think you’re technically on questions seventeen, love.

Emma Swan: What size t-shirt do you wear?

He snorts, laughter rumbling through his stomach, before rolls over on the couch, propping his chin up on Liam’s throw pillow…okay, so it’s Elsa’s throw pillow. He’s absolutely positive that Liam didn’t pick this out.

Killian Jones: Large. Why do you ask?

Killian Jones: And that doesn’t count as a question.

Emma Swan: Because I’m sending you a late Christmas gift that I just found while shopping.

Killian Jones: You’re shopping on Christmas Eve?

Killian Jones: Are you mad, Swan?

Emma Swan: Not crazy. Just been a little distracted lately and needed one more present for Leo.

“Oi, little brother, get off your phone and come help in the kitchen.”

“I’m a guest, Liam. You and Elsa are supposed to do all of the cooking. And it’s younger brother.”

“Okay, then come play with your nephew then. Who are you talking to anyways?”

“No one,” he answers a little too quickly, and Liam catches onto it almost immediately, his eyebrows moving across his forehead while his lips tick up on one side.

“Do you have a girl, Killian?” Liam prods, standing over the couch and staring down at Killian. “Are you talking to a girl?”

“I’m talking to a friend who happens to be a girl. But not a girlfriend.”

“But you like her.”

“She’s a friend, and don’t you dare tell Elsa. She’ll get those big sentimental eyes, and then she’ll ask for details.”

“So there are details to be asked about then?”

“So you needed help in the kitchen then?” He gets up from the couch, stuffing his phone in his back pocket and sauntering into the kitchen, completely ignoring the way Liam is smirking behind him and heading straight to grab Aiden out of his highchair, tickling his stomach and asking Elsa what they’re having for Christmas Eve dinner.

He doesn’t check his phone for the next few hours, spending time with his family, the volume in the house only increasing when Elsa’s sister Anna and her husband Kris show up. It’s only the six of them, but it’s the loudest, most full Christmas Eve they’ve ever had. He’s only had Liam since their mum died when he was ten, and as much as he loves their Christmases together, he’s thrilled that their family is growing, even if it’s by no help of his own.

His nephew is the light of his life, though, the little eight-month old his best bud even if all he really does his giggle and smile at him with his little gummy smile, and he most definitely did all of his Christmas shopping for him ahead of time, unlike a certain woman did for her friend’s kid.

When he crawls into bed that night, Liam’s guest room a little too quiet without the box fan he usually sleeps with at home, and so knowing he can’t sleep, he pulls out his phone only to see several messages from Emma. The last one is dated just a few minutes ago, and even though it’s one in the morning in Boston, he takes a chance and presses the call button next to her name.

“Hello,” she mumbles before yawning, and he can’t help but smile. “Killian?”

“Aye. Did I wake you, love?”

“No, no. I was just getting in bed after finishing wrapping the rest of the presents. What are you doing?”

“The same thing.”

“Wrapping presents?”

“No, getting in bed.”

“Scandalous, Jones.”

“You know it, love.”

They end up talking for the next two hours, filling each other in on their Christmas Eve celebrations until Emma really does start yawning more than she actually speaks, the time catching up with her more than it does with him.

“Swan?”

“Mhm?”

“You should sleep. Goodnight, love. And Merry Christmas.”

“I can stay awake.”

“Emma,” he prods, curling up into bed himself and pulling the comforter further over his body. “Go to bed.”

“Okay,” she yawns, her voice gradually getting quieter, and he can hear her comforter rustling too. “Merry Christmas, Killian.”

Filming on the television show he’s decided to pick up begins at the end of January. It’s a mini series, so he’s only contractually obligated to it for fifteen weeks instead of up to ten years. It’s a historical drama, one where he gets to play a hero with a tainted past who battles his demons while also battling with his adversaries. It’s been in the works for years, and as he gets fitted for his costumes, a sense of giddy anticipation fills him, even as he’s basically fitted into a corset and leather pants. Well, that’s only for one episode. The rest of the time he’s in linens and suits of men in the 1800s.

The only downside to it is that as the weeks have passed, he’s grown closer to Emma, their texts still frequent, but their calls even more so. It doesn’t necessarily sound like a downside, but to him, that’s how he feels. He just hasn’t seen her more than in pictures and one or two video chats. He’s known her for two months now, not long in the grand scheme of things, but they’ve talked nearly every day. Their twenty questions game has long since stopped, the words flowing more naturally as they simply chat about their days or whatever is on their minds. She’s gotten into sending him memes and videos she finds online, and he’s taken the time to find things to send her as well.

Through every little conversation they have, he learns a bit more about it. For awhile, he thought that they could be friends, that he could live just talking to her like this if that’s what she ends up wanting, but he likes her. He likes her, and he has no idea how she feels about him. Yeah, they kissed, and sometimes he finds himself touching his lips at the memory of that kiss, but that was just after one night. What if she doesn’t feel the same way now? He knows that they’re friends, but what if she never decides that she wants to see him again? What if it stays as some kind of virtual relationship?

If that’s what she wants, he won’t try to force her into something else. Whatever they become, it’s up to her as much as him.

He just doesn’t know what the hell she wants, and all he wants is to see her, to hear her laugh in person and possibly even give her a hug. He’s not even aiming for a kiss at this point. How can he miss someone he’s only met once?

Once his fitting is finished, he changes back into jeans and a flannel shirt for rehearsals, shooting for the first episode not really beginning until tomorrow after they get through this final day of practice.

It’s the end of February, the first half of the series is nearly finished, when he gets a call from Emma. They haven’t really been able to talk the past few days, the time difference and his work hours causing them to only exchange a few texts, so when her name and a picture from the gala pop up on his screen, he nearly breaks his phone, catching it in the air before it hits the marble of his kitchen counter.

“Hi, Swan” he breathes, his lips twitching upward.

He’s got to look like an idiot smiling to himself, but he lives alone. No one will ever know. Well, Liam and his damn older brother tendencies might now. He’s been on him like a hawk ever since Christmas Eve, especially because Killian refuses to tell him anything. His brother is nosy, but it’s only because he cares. Killian’s been hurt enough by women, not to mention how much he resents his father for leaving them and their sick mother, and Liam’s taken it up on himself to be his protector. He means well, but after Milah and how broken he’d been, Liam’s taken it to the next level. He knows that women will take advantage of him for his fame in the same way that people who try to be his friend will. It’s why he’s been single for awhile, and he keeps his mates to Liam, Robin, and Will, people he’s known and trusted for years.

But he knows that Emma is different. She’s obviously a fan, something he somehow forgets about most of the time, and while he’s never considered dating a fan before, he would with Emma.

He also knows that Liam would be up his arse about it.

The fact that Liam never mentioned the photos of he and Emma outside of her front door is a bloody miracle. Liam either never saw them or chose not to talk about it. God does he hope it was the first one.

“Um, hi. Why do you sound out of breath?”

“Because you take my breath away, love.”

“Oh wow, I can’t tell if that was good or bad.”

“It was good, darling.” He walks from his kitchen to his living room, settling down into his favorite recliner and stretching out. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m on my way home from the gym. Did you not have filming today?”

“Day off, and I haven’t changed out of my pajamas. It’s bloody wonderful.”

“Lazy ass.”

“Smart arse.”

“Anyways,” she continues, several horns beeping behind her. He checks his watch and realizes that it’s eight in the evening in Boston. She must have had a late day at work. “I’m calling because I have some news.”

His heart rate picks up, and something lodges in his chest. She sounds happy, but he doesn’t know what her news could be. All he can think is that she’s begun dating someone, which she has every right to, but it would break his heart a little bit.

“What news?”

“So apparently, I haven’t taken enough vacations days, and I’ll lose them if I don’t use them by the end of the quarter, which is the end of March. So I was thinking, if it’s okay with you, that I might finally take you up on that offer of us seeing each other again. I know you said you’d be the one hopping on a plane, but I’d kind of like to see California.”

It's…this is…damn. This is everything he’s wanted for the past few months, and he can’t believe it’s happening. He’s going to see Emma, and it’s not going to be through a video screen.

“Swan, I’d be thrilled. You can stay with me. I mean, if you’re okay with that. You don’t have to stay with me if you’d rather stay somewhere else. And I can show you around all of the good places or the tourist traps. It doesn’t matter. Oh fuck.”

“What?”

“I’m filming all through March.”

“I know,” she sighs before cursing out someone under her breath, “but maybe we could hang out between filming. I don’t want to impose, so it’s fine if this is a bad time. I’ll just lounge around my apartment for a week if it is. It’ll be great. Just an entire week of laziness.”

“Emma, no,” he practically begs, hoping that she can’t hear his heart beating through the telephone and the miles between them. “Tell me the dates, and you can come. We’ll make it work.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #cs ff #how is a christmas one shot not a christmas one shot anymore

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