#i am dangerous around languages i can tell you where any cow is from just on the name alone its madness (is it? is it madness?)

[son-fuori-di-me]

"I had no idea I could change someone's life."

One Shot. Word Count | Around 3300. Description | <French female pov> you're visiting Rome for the first time, and you casually meet Damiano David the day before the Circo Massimo concert. The conversation takes a unexpected path.

Content | Real talk. No romantic development. * Expect French idioms and italian approximations from automatic translators

---

"Bordel, c'est immense !" ("Holy cow, that's big !") I said, looking at the Circo Massimo.

It was my first time in Rome. Knowing Italy a bit, I expected a hell lot of sun, a delicious bunch of ice cream for each meal, and tons of pretty things to snap with my phone. Well, that was the plan for my first two days there. Cause Saturday would be a very different day. Saturday would be Måneskin day.

I've been waiting for so long to do this trip. And what a blast it has been for now. Took only a bag, my external battery, some makeup and my favourite clothes to finally discover this astonishing city. This was my first solo trip. I've always travelled with my family or my ex, but never on my own. For once, I could decide what I wanted to see, what I wanted to eat, when to take a break. And as there are plenty of things to see in Rome, i wanted to enjoy every second of my trip. I could focus my last day there solely to the Måneskin concert happening that Saturday night. But as I didn't want to leave anything to chance, I decided to precisely organize my last day, so I could visit a bit more - a get a last fantastic meal before the concert.

I got myself a gold pit ticket. I guessed that would mean I had a special queue. So on Friday night, as I was back from a late tour in town, I decided to watch more closely the Circo, to check for the entrances, and see how I could sharpen my organization and schedule for the next day.

"J'espère que je vais pas avoir à poireauter toute la journée, avec la chaleur qu'il va faire." ("I hope won't have to hang around here all day tomorrow, the weather's gonna be hot as hell")

It was almost 10 pm. I was getting closer to the Circo, trying to read the boards, but all was written in italian and didn't seem to concern the concert. And a year fangirling over Måneskin clearly wasn't enough to become fluent. I saw no sign mentioning "gold pit". So I decided I would ask around, with Google translate ready in my phone in case I couldn't find anyone speaking English.

I saw a guy sit on a bench, smoking. He was dressed in an ugly dark sweater, with the hood over a cap. He was either a drug dealer or a hobbo. My instinct as a girl living in Paris got the uphand and I decided to ignore the guy and try to find a woman instead, or maybe a group of locals, to get me the information I wanted. Unfortunately, after a good 20 minutes walking around and asking people, no one could tell me how to make sure I find the right queue for the concert. I was about to give up and head back to my airbnb and I saw a silhouette still sitting on a bench, near the Circo. It was the same guy from earlier. "Bon, je tente, s'il est trop chelou, je me barre." ("Well, might as well take the risk, if he's too much a weirdo, I clear off quickly.")

"Scusi, do you speak English ?" i said, getting closer to the guy, but still from a good distance in case it turned wrong.

"Pretty good. You need something ?" He was searching something in his pockets and reached his pack of cigarettes. His voice was deep, but gentle. He did look funny but didn't sound dangerous - i still didn't get too close as I hate the smell of smoke.

"Do you know well il Circo Massimo ? I'm going to a concert here tomorrow and I want to make sure I find the right queue, but they haven't installed any sign yet". I asked, showing the structure of the stage behind me.

"Cute accent, where are you from ?" he answered, completely ignoring my question.

"Well, I'm French. So, do you know il Circo ?" I preferred to quickly repeat my question to let him know I wasn't interested in whatever he was trying to.

"Ah, Bonjour ! I speak a little French !" He said, now reaching for his lighter.

"Yeeaaaah cool, but how about the Circo ? I'd like to be here early enough, but I don't know wh-" I froze as he lighted up his cigarette. It was brief, but with the spark, I saw his face for a second.

"Hm ? You don't know what ?" He asked, with a smirky voice.

"Mais naaaan ?" ("Dont tell me -") I let out that typical French astonished sound without thinking. "You gotta be kidding me !"

He laughed as I was getting a little closer, staring at him. With one hand, he was putting his lighter back in his pocket, with the other, he lifted a bit his cap. It was him. It was Damiano.

I felt my spine shiver with that uncomfortable sensation of being around someone famous. As a journalist, I had my lot of interviews, so I knew there's no point in changing behavior around such people. But I still was flabbergasted to see him.

"Sorry, I didn't recognize you. Well, gotta say you're not dressed in your best outfit !" I chose the strategy of sass, to hide how impressed I actually was.

"That's my favourite sweater you're seeing me in, and I'm smoking hot in it" He said with a smirk, getting into the sassy game.

"Time off before the big day ?" I asked, completely forgotting about my initial request and switching to my interview mindset when I'm super focused about the conversation. "Shouldn't you be having a great night of sleep, to recharge your batteries ?"

"I don't feel like going to bed" He said, having no idea how the conversation would soon turn. Fortunately for him, I wasn't working in the music media industry. "That's quite a stage we're gonna play on."

I didn't know why he was talking to me about all of this. I didn't dare to ask him either. I just enjoyed the moment.

"Well, the Eurovision song contest was bigger, wasn't it ?"

"Hm, don't tell me about it, I still don't know how I managed that."

He suddenly had a strange tone in his voice. It didn't sound like the radiant and confident Damiano you see on Instagram stories or on TV interviews. I remembered where I heard him like that. In the 2019 documentary "This is Måneskin", the making of Il Ballo Della Vita album, in the sequence he's arguing with Vic on a train, as he tells her how anxious he can be get sometimes.

"Well, you did, didn't you ?" I put on a more serious voice. "And you had a ton more of pressure, representing your whole country ? So how a concert here in your home town could be worst than performing in front of all of Europe - not to say the whole world ?"

He was still smoking, listening in silence.

"Or maybe it isn't about how big the performance is but about performing in itself ? Why are you performing ? Why are you putting on a show ? All those fancy clothes and that makeup, who is it for ? For people to love you ? Or for you to love yourself ?"

Mais qu'est-ce que je branle ? Il va se barrer dans deux secondes, là c'est sûr (What the fuck am I doing ? He's leaving any second now.) I got a bit too excited about being able to share a few words with him. What's gotten onto me ? Well, let's go then.

"What is it you're running after ? Or running from maybe ? Some complex to compensate ? With all that smudge and confidence, that wouldn't surprise me."

He sat back on the bench. As he inhaled a deep breath of smoke, I saw a smile on his face. But I also saw his hand holding the cigarette shaking.

"Are you a psychiatrist or something ?" He simply said, as if he was trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

I hesitated to tell him the truth. I was sure he would walk away the second he would know my actual job. Et puis merde, autant tout dire. (Well, fuck, might as well be honest.)

"Nope, I'm a journalist." I admited, as he looked right back at me with a surprised look. "Pretty much the same. We get appoitments with random people, listen to their life, observe their body language, and tell them our whole opinion about all of it, which might very well shape how they perceive themselves from now on."

"Only difference is that you don't have to keep anything secret. Right the contrary."

There. This was it. He was gonna leave now, for sure.

"Before you go, did I hit any truth ? Don't worry, I'm not in the music media industry, I won't write anything from our conversation." I hoped this information would save me a few more seconds with him.

He didn't answer right away. He didn't leave either. He kept looking at me, still smoking his second cigarette in a row now.

"Whatever it is you write about, I guess you must be good at it" he finally replied. "Cause you did score a few points."

Another short silence broke. As a fan, I was obsessed with his music, lyrics, and attitude. But catching a glimpse of what lied behind the glamour definitly caught my interest. I wanted to know more.

"Why are you here ?" I slightly deepened my voice, getting back to my interview tone, and kept on going with this as if that was usual business for me. "It's half past 10. You play on Rome's largest stage tomorrow. You surely better should be in bed, or be about to, before the big day."

In that moment, I had the upper-hand in the conversation. He was sat on the bench, I was on my feet in front of him, and therefore above him. Not the best approach to get someone's trust for an interview, but with a personnality like Damiano's, you gotta put your own show.

"I actually don't sleep much before big events like these" He finally answered, accepting his condition as an interviewee. "I don't sleep much at all."

"You're tend to insomnia ?"

"Not really, I just got used to 4-5 hours of sleep, that's it."

"Even during tours ? Cause this all sold-out European tour for Teatro d'Ira must have been exhausting".

"You have no idea, bellezza."

"So tell me." From there, I decided to change my strategy and sat on the ground, still in front of him, but giving him the upper-hand, to put on a more trustful atmosphere. "How are you doing ? And I don't mean, like casual 'yay, fine', I mean : how are you doing ?"

I still have no idea of my tactical move of giving him more space to express himself worked, or if he understood right away where I was leading him, but in the end, he still didn't seem bothered by this conversation we were having. In fact, it looked like he was enjoying it.

"I'm... content, I'd say." He paused, and I didn't interrupt him with another question this time. "I know I'm going through the life I wanted. The music, the tours, the praise. It's all I could have ever asked for."

D'accord, très bien, mais ? (Okey, very good, but ?) I stayed silent, but I couldn't help anticipating what he was saying.

"But surprisingly, sometimes it's still... unfulfilling. Like I can never be satisfied".

Repressing some Hamilton's lyrics from my mind, I innocently pretend I didn't fully understand what he meant - another journalistic technique, to get someone to repeat themselves with other words in order to get them deeper into their reflexion.

"What do you mean, "never be satisfied" ? You're on top of Spotify chart list, your albums are now platinum successes, you're winning awards. How is this not satisfying ?"

"It's just... What are all those things for ? Money ? Fame ? Yeah, I like those but..."

"Typical Capricorn" I muttered, to slide in the conversation that I actually knew pretty well my subject - my subject being him. He chuckled.

"Damn really ? Let me guess ? Aries ?"

"Pisces+Taurus, actually. So what, you don't like being famous ?" Getting back quickly into more questions - another technique to keep control over the rhythm of an interview.

"It's not that I dislike it. It's just... not always as fun as I thought it would be."

"What part of the job ? The writing and composing ?"

"No, that's the best part." He reached for a third cigarette. It was almost 11 pm now. "Vic, Thomas and Ethan. Måneskin. They're the best thing that ever happened to me".

"Then what, you feel like a fraud ?"

"Hell, no ! I'm exactly where I should be." He claimed, with a light pride tone.

"So, if you're proud of what you create, and if you love the people you create that with, then what is the matter ? If life is about getting the Bare Necessities, it seems like you got it all." Hitting with a universal - and musical - reference. Shoud do the trick.

"Hahaha ! Lo stretto indispensabile, si ! But life isn't that easy." He said laughing, as I felt he started to let go of the tension. "In real life, you get judged all the time, and people try to dismantle you, and spread rumors."

"I didn't think you'd be one to listen to people's comments about you".

"I'm not. I stopped giving credits to those. But it's still here, you know ?"

"From what I see, you're keeping it real, with lots of wisdom. I can't quite grasp what seem to bother you."

He paused, looking at his feet for a few seconds.

"I'm afraid it won't last." He finally confessed. "I'm afraid it all ends as quickly as it all started. I'm afraid people get bored. I'm afraid I become a caricature of myself. I'm afraid I can't write new songs. I'm afraid to be a shooting star, you see ? Very bright, but gone in a flash."

"Like, to be an Icare ? Or may I say "Ykaaar" like on your Instagram ?"

He chuckled again.

"Huh, I'm that obvious ?"

"Yeah, even a bit over-the-top, if I may dare say so."

"Well, I've always related so much with this mythological figure. I mean what's wrong with aiming for the Sun ?" He said, pointing a hand to the dark sky above us. From his attitude, I could tell he was way more relaxed than in the beginning. He even took his cap and hood off, so I could now see his face more clearly. His eyes were glittering. "Burning your wings... What's that morale supposed to teach us ? Be modest ? Be moderate ? Che noia !" (How boring !)

"Well don't be !" I felt almost like scolding him. "There's nothing wrong with seeking big dreams. As there's nothing wrong with this feeling of being outrun by your life. Savour the moment. Every second of it. It's because you can't know how long it may last that it tastes so good, so thrilling ! And you actually already are ten steps ahead ! Writing songs like ´Torna a casa' or ´Coraline' at, what, 19-20 years old ? You're the real deal, dude. And even if later on, you get blank page anxiety or write just good-enough songs, it's okey. You got plenty of time to make mistakes. Take the leap of faith. Failing and being a failure aren't the same. You learn, you grow from it. It's okey to doubt yourself, but please, don't ever doubt all the love and support you get."

I paused, hoping I didn't do too far and missed my point. But in a way, I could also feel I got it right. He was looking at the Circo, his eyes even more sparkling than before.

"I..." He got up, standing on the bench, looking as tall as a statue from my perspective. He came down and took a few steps. I got on my feet, starting to feel concerned about what I just said.

"I didn't know I needed to hear that." He finally confided. "I always wanna reach perfection. I'm aware I can be authoritative, sometimes even harsh, on the band. I can't accept to be a failure. But love and support, that, I can't get enough of."

I didn't respond. There was nothing to add. This instant felt like an hour. The wind was slightly blowing through the length of the Circo in front of us. His hair reflected the gentle light of the moon, only showing her first quarter. He broke the tranquility of the moment, turning and taking a few steps in my direction.

"Grazie mille" he said, his arms opened, calling for a hug.

"But, you're very welcome" I said approaching him, softly putting my arms on his back as he put his over my shoulders. The second before his face disappeared from my vision, i noticed a tear on his cheek.

"You've completed reset my mind. I feel like I can start all over again. I was anguished, trapped by my anxiety. But it's all gone now. You've changed me. Thank you, thank you so much" He affirmed full of hope, his voice shivering.

"Wow, well. I had no idea I could change someone's life." I answered, trying to hide how moved I myself was from the conversation.

------

It was almost midnight now. We kept talking for a while, comparing life in Rome and Paris, exchanging what was our best concert experiences. But he still needed to get back home to rest before the concert, and I didn't want to arrive too late at my airbnb - even if I could have spent the whole night talking with him. Yet, to enjoy our last few minutes together, he offered to walk me back to where I was staying. It was just a 15 minutes walk, along the Tevere river bank.

"So tell me." he asked with a smirk. "How does the Bare Necessities go in French ?" He started to muffle the melody.

"Oh no, you don't expect me to actually sing it ?"

"Hehe, you got me into a therapy session, so I can get a little song from you, no ?"

"Damn, you. This is blackmail !" But drunk on the moment, I took a deep breath.

"Il en faut peeeeeeu pour être heureux, ("Look for the baaaaare necessities,") vraiment très peu pour être heureux, ("the simple bare necessities") il faut se satisfaire du nécessaire !" ("Forget about your worries and your strife")"

I started dancing along, if I had to be ridiculous, might as well utterly be. But he actually followed my lead, clicking his fingers.

"In fondo, baaaasta il minimo, ("I mean the baaaaare necessities") sapessi quanto è facile ("Old Mother Nature's recipes") Trovar quel po' che occorre per campar ! ("That brings the bare necessities of life !")

We kept on singing Disney songs for a few minutes as we walked at a slow pace - I was shocked he never saw Tarzan and immediately made him promise to watch it as i told him Phil Collins recorded all the songs in five languages, including Italian. When we finally reached my destination, we exchanged a last timid hug as farewell.

"Well, I'll see you on stage tomorrow." I told him as I crossed the street.

"And I'll look for you in the crowd !" He shouted with the brightest smile on his perfect face.

** the end **

[into-the-daniverse]

The Strait of Sirens

When the game map doesn’t give you the waterways you want, just carve them out yourself, am I right?

In this case, I’ve carved a strait from the Sea of Persephia to the Salty Sea, purely so my pirates can cross paths more. And it wouldn’t be a fantasy location in my canon if it didn't have something supernatural—so there’s also sirens.

This would come up in my canon specifically in Muriel’s route, where he and MC (Alec or Viviane depending) need to travel south. But before the events of the game, this gets used a lot by the band traveling back and forth over years, and obviously, by the pirates.

Gonna put most of this under the cut to save your dash!

Let’s start with the name of the strait.

The Strait of Sirens is inhabited and guarded by fairly neutral aligned sirens. Neutral as in they hate all humans equally. They’ve been there for a very long time, and they don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

The strait itself is fairly big. Traveling through the strait takes about a week to cross from one end to the other on an average sized ship, so there are a number of small towns scattered across on both sides with at least one substantial inn for travelers to rest at along the way. The towns all have enchantments on them, so once a ship is docked, it is considered safe, and the sirens can’t affect it or any of the crew members.

Both entrances to the strait are guarded by sirens from two different clans. One clan guards the entrance to the Sea of Persephia, and the other the entrance to the Salty Seas. The entrances look like this; large jagged rocks meant to discourage ships from entering.

For this reason, only experienced sailors usually attempt to enter. Though, once past the entrance, it’s pretty smooth sailing. Because the sirens themselves are enough of a threat. 

Onto the sirens themselves; they don't look human. 

Well, they kind of do, in the same way that Valdemar does. 

Their skin is translucent, and their fins glow in the dead of night. Their teeth are too sharp to offer a comforting smile, and their eyes are too much like fish eyes to give any warmth as they peek over the waves. They all have long hair, but hair is a loose term, as it’s more like another appendage, laced with seaweed and rope from wrecked ships. 

Not all of them have fish tails, some have tentacles, some beaks like squids. Some of them look more human than others, and they act as lures, sometimes pretending to be drowning so a naive sailor will jump in to “save” them.

They are not considered attractive (conventionally) and they don’t lure travelers into the depths by appealing to their sexual appetite. Instead, they use illusion magic in their songs to show their victims either their wildest fantasy, most horrible fear, or best kept secret. Whatever is the strongest pull is what will be shown to them.

They sing in a style similar to Kulning, an ancient Swedish herding call, except they’re herding the travelers off their ships, instead of calling cows home. This is an excellent example of what they would sound like.

They don’t speak in any known language, those who have heard it say it sounds more like clicking. They are not easily reasoned with, highly temperamental, and prone to feeding frenzies. If some poor unfortunate slips over the railing, they are to be considered dead the moment they hit the water.

And here’s a little siren moodboard for the aesthetics.

Generally, all ships that pass through the strait have to do the old “plug your ears and hope for the best” routine as they sail through, but the closer you get to the towns, the safer you are. 

Some ships employ magicians for the purpose of counteracting the sirens, as a seven day journey is a long time for most vessels to go without hearing. When the band travels on supply ships Alec is usually sought after, as her vocal magic works directly against them.

She can use her magic to sing over them, and to cancel out their illusions. This takes a lot of concentration, and she can’t sing for seven days straight, so it’s only used when absolutely necessary.

For my pirates, they each have their own way to cross the strait safely.

For Meredith, she has Saoirse. They are the only thing the sirens fear, as all seas feed into each other, and the water from the Frozen Sea has a lot of stories to tell about the Pirate Queen’s quartermaster. The crew is still encouraged to keep quiet, and to keep away from the railings, as the sirens will try to snatch any distracted crew member. She usually stops at a few towns on their way to let the crew rest.

Rodrigo doesn’t know the extent of his magic, but he knows how to use it well enough to challenge the illusions that the sirens cast. It takes a ridiculous amount of energy, and he hates doing it, but in the case that the crew can’t just plug their ears, he can redirect the sirens illusions. He can even cast illusions on the sirens, though not for very long. His crew is the only one who’s been able to retrieve members after they fell into the water, as he can make the sirens think the crew member fell in a different spot just long enough for Jacqui or someone else to fish them out. He’ll stop at villages frequently just to get away from the sirens as much as possible.

The sirens hate Syd, and seeing Inuwashi on the horizon will send them into a frenzy. But he has agreements with both clan leaders (agreements, thinly veiled threats, hostages—the Sea Palace has a few sirens hidden in the catacombs) so they let him and his crew pass. Because his ship is much smaller and faster, it takes him closer to four days to cross the strait, so usually he’ll only stop at one town to rest up, or he’ll just push through for the four days straight.

Now as mentioned above, there are a handful of towns across both sides of the strait for travelers to stop at. There’s at least one town within a day’s range of each other on the North side, around seven total, and on the South side they are spread further apart, around four total.

On the North side, the biggest town (and the only one with a ferry to take you South) is called Hinode. This is where the Koizumi Inn is located, run by Manolo and Manuela Koizumi.

Hinode, and a few more villages that are closer to Venterre, would look similar to this picture of the fishing village Ine in Japan.

Hinode is simultaneously the safest and most dangerous village, as it is directly between both clans territories, and the only thing the sirens hate as much as humans is their rival clan. 90% of the time, this means that you are unlikely to see either clan in the waters, as they will just avoid each other, but the other 10% of the time will see bloodshed. 

Once every 2 years or so, during a blue moon, the clans will fight, and Hinode is in the “splash zone” for lack of a better term. All ships will need to be properly secured and enchanted for protection, or they will be turned to splinters as the sirens fight, and people living directly on the water will often move inland for the duration of the fight. Or, the day before, they will take the day travel across the strait to the South side.

On the South side, the biggest town is called Sólsetur, and it would look more like Portloe, Cornwall, shown below. 

There are a few more towns on the South side, but Sólsetur is the only one that will ferry you across to the North side, and the only one directly on the water. It’s not as centralized as Hinode, and because it’s hidden in a cove it is safer to be here during the blue moon.

All the villages along the strait have protections on them, especially the closer they are to the water, that keeps the sirens from attacking them. But, travel too far outside the barriers of the spells, and you are on your own. 

Both Hinode and Sólsetur are very welcoming of travelers, sailors and pirates alike, and though the people on the South side are generally colder, it’s not hard to find a warm place to sleep and a good meal to eat. 

[silenceofthecookies]

Black Clover matchup for @nakunakunomi

Matchup for me :D No gender preferences I am a biromantic ace. 

Your age: 24 

Your general appearance - most striking features, your fashion style, etc.

Answer: Chubby mermaid lol. Long curly hair almost all the way down my back. Red at the moment, but I’ve had all colors of the rainbow. Ears pierced multiple times and a septum ring whenever I leave the house. My general style is comfy alternative, loads of black, boots and ripped jeans but baggy shirts and sweaters. I don’t like drawing much attention to my chest because my boobs are a very prominent feature. Hourglass figure with extra minutes: so there’s boobs and ass but also a tummy and such. I have dimples when I laugh and a whole bunch of moles over my body. I like a killer liner and mascara but don’t necessary wear makeup every day. I like 4 tattoos and waiting for that fifth one. 

Your MBTI, western zodiac chart, etc.

Answer: INFP (mediator), Scorpio sun, Libra moon, Pisces ascending. Year of the rat. I’d say my MBTI type is pretty accurate and while I don’t have many of the bitchy traits often assigned to Scorpios, I do have some of the passion towards things I care about and a generally jealous and stubborn personality. 

Your personality, how you perceive yourself and how people around you perceive you.*

Your hobbies, interests, life goals etc.*

Answer: Stubbornness and some jealousy (that is always internalized) are my worst traits. I lack self-esteem and confidence and get anxious in new situations. Once I am around people I trust I blossom open and become more giggly (lame jokes and such) my humor is about 50% puns and 50% sarcasm. I am quick-witted with ‘mean’ remarks but I will never intend to offend or cause harm to anyone. Tough exterior comes with a soft interior. I tend to overthink and worry a lot and will usually put a friend’s needs above mine. I often have people coming to me for advice or to help them calm down. I will be honest in the softest way possible, even if the things I need to say aren’t necessarily nice. I want my friends to flourish. I get easily distracted by cute things and can really enjoy beautiful sights, nice food, good company… i am heavily introverted but I do need the handful of people I care about to flourish myself.

I accumulate facts and know loads of small things about a lot of things. I like adding in fun facts every now and then but sometimes I come across as a know-it-all and then I will get really self-conscious about it. I either talk up a storm nonstop or turn into myself and get really really quiet. 

Your favorites, likes, dislikes, pet peeves, fears.*

Answer: anything creative: reading and writing, drawing (although I’m terrible at it), pixel art. Singing, making music, playing instruments, DIYing things. I am quite good with makeup and wigs, and I cosplay but the sewing I still struggle with. I love acting and gaming as well although I don’t spend that much time on them.

I am super heavily interested in true crime, cases, and the psychology of murderers and such. I tend to get overexcited talking about such cases, never celebrating violence, but just being very fascinated by what a human brain can do. I also just really love riddles, mysteries, and solving them.

I’d love to become a teacher or a professional dog trainer. I love animals more than I love people and if I could work with dogs every day of my life that’d be amazing. An unrealistic goal would be to sing for a living, or do musicals. But I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen. 

Any additional info you would like to share, fun facts, etc.

Answer: food! Mainly Asian dishes (from all of Asia) and pastas. I love cooking and experimenting in the kitchen and trying out new things to taste. I’m vegetarian but not vegan and I will try everything that’s not meat or fish at least once! I love all kinds of animals, not only your average pets. I will also go pet the cows, and in the zoo you’ll have to drag me away by my ankles from the reptilians and the aquarium. I am fascinated by them and I love them. I love plants and flowers, and if you’d let me be, Id have a small jungle in my house with all kinds of plants and animals. I just love taking care of them, talking to them…

I dislike arrogant people, people who are rude against serving staff. I dislike impoliteness and laziness in the sense that other people are suffering from your lack of work. If I am in a group project I will never procrastinate because it can drag the whole group down, it’s okay to be lazy if it only impacts yourself.

I am afraid of loneliness and the fact that everyone I know just pretends to like me while talking behind my back and secretly hating me. I am not easily startled by monsters, animals, and such, but I do get a little paranoid if I have to walk in the street in the middle of the night. (a side effect from the true-crime consumption) 

Answer: I think I added most things in the other walls of text (sorry they are so long). But when it comes to relationship and goals around that there are these things that I think are most important: 

Love language is mostly quality time and words of affirmation, and that’s what I like too, as well as soft PDA and affections: cuddles, kisses, hand holding… I like spending time together, and even more so I like actually doing things together: sharing hobbies, going out, dates, dinners, walks, adventures, travels… all the things! :hellmo: 

Patience, because I have some anxiety issues as well as fear of commitment. I will definitely need some reassurance. Also consent is the sexiest thing in the world, and that’s coming from an ace person.

Honesty, liars are out. I have a lot of trouble trusting again once there has been a breach of trust. White lies for surprises and such is one thing, but any intentional lying in order to avoid confrontation is an absolute dealbreaker. 

I match you with...

Dorothy Unsworth!

Despite her being asleep a lot of the time, Dorothy notices more than she lets on. She can see straight through the front someone is putting up and see what they are really feeling. This really helps in letting her support you, who is always supporting others. She’ll remind you that sometimes you need to take a break or that you need to focus on yourself instead of others. With her infectious smile and her own absurd sense of humour, she’ll do her best to cheer you up, or at least to distract you from whatever is bothering you.

Dorothy is very patient and has no rush with any relationship. Everything has its own time and waiting for that time to come it part of the fun, right? She’s also very understanding of your anxiety and is able to adjust her energy to the situation, keeping it low when you need comfort and reassurance, and going straight back to high when you’re feeling better and just want to have some fun.

Dorothy may seem very cute and girly, but she is interested in true crime as much as you are. The gruesome details of a case are not wasted on her and she will gladly talk with you about these cases. In her time as a magic knight she has seen her own fair share of true crime as well and she will gladly share anything that’s not confidential or dangerous.

Her love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. Not a day will go by where Dorothy won’t hug you from behind, kiss you between your shoulder blades and tell you she loves you. She loves loving you and making you feel loved. When she’s in love, keeping her lover safe, emotionally and physically, is her number one priority. She won’t give you even a second to doubt her love for you whenever you’re together. She’s very conscious of your boundaries and makes sure to not cross them.

Not a single lie will leave her mouth, unless as a joke, which will be very clear when she tells it. She is a knight, an enforcer of justice and peace, and lies are not in her book. Teasing, however, very much is, though she prefers to tease you with truths instead of with jokes. If there’s truth to the teasing, it’s just that much more effective.

You want this small strong captain to be putty in your hands? Cook for her, or cook with her. Dorothy greatly enjoys the good things in life and food is definitely on her list of good things. Her preference is mostly sweets, but she knows she needs to eat healthy food as well and she’s not picky when it comes to her dinner. The only need she has is that it tastes good, and that’s something you with your amazing culinary skills can definitely provide!

[avis-writeshq]

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader: In Case You Didn’t Know

Requested: By myself

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Summary:  As far as everyone could tell, you were friends with Bakugou. The two of you had quite the history, after all. But when one is never able to convey his feelings, things can take quite a turn.

Warnings: Coarse language (I mean, it’s Bakugou), fluff, a bit of angst, trash writing

Other: For mah good friend @lyz-fics who needs a heck ton of comforting because sChoOL. Also loosely based off of the song ‘In Case You Didn’t Know’! Oh, and whipped this baby up in half-an-hour so don’t hate meh

Word count: 1,738                                                                                                  

 Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

 ***

As far as everyone could tell, you were friends with Bakugou. It was true that you hung around him quite often, always cheering him on during fights and standing by him whenever there was something going on. It came to the point where many believed you and Bakugou were a thing until he shot that idea down quite harshly. You were basically a stray puppy following the person who gave you food and the unlucky person just happened to be him. In all honesty, the male had actually grown accustomed to you being around him. He certainly made a use for you, too.

 There were multiple times where he made you be his ‘errand girl’. In other words, kind of a slave. He would order you around saying, “Get me some water!” or, “I asked for luke-fucking-warm! Who the fuck drinks freezing cold water?!”

 There were multiple occasions where Momo or Ashida asked why you even bothered with Bakugou. Your answer was always the same.

 “I want to support him in any way I can. He and Izuku are my good friends. Even if my quirk isn’t strong for battles, I can still help out with healing!”

 Unfortunately for you, despite always being the one to cheer him up, you would sometimes end up on the receiving end of Bakugou’s wrath. Usually, it was nothing crazy, just him ranting and complaining about the class.

“FUCKING DEKU!” Bakugou yelled one day as he stormed into his dorm. Throwing his glass of water to the ground, you made a mental note to always use a water bottle when giving him his water.

You raised an eyebrow, barely looking up from the book you were reading. “What happened this time, Katsuki-Kun?”

 “Does he take me for a fucking fool?”

“You’re acting quite foolish at the moment,” you drawled, suppressing the smile that was trying to stretch across your face.

He grunted angrily, sounding between an angry pig or a pooping cow. You didn’t bother saying anything more as you placed your book down and began to gather the broken glass. Katsuki did a double-take. Did he seriously think that you would get away with picking up glass with your bare hands?

“Oi, what the fuck are you doing, idiot?”

You blinked. “I’m cleaning the mess that you made…?”

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “You’re gonna get hurt, dumbass. Use a broom or something.”

“It’s carpet,” you deadpanned, continuing to pick up the pieces of glass only to have one prick into your skin. You hissed, drawing your hand back. It was drawing a little bit of blood, and there was no doubt a small shard of glass embedded into your skin.

“See, what the fuck did I tell you?”

You sighed, “I can heal myself.”

“There’s a piece of glass in your hand. You tryna get infected or something?”

“Baku-“

You were cut off by him lifting you up and forcing you to sit down, grabbing a pair of tweezers from his first aid kit. “Hold still, dammit.”

“I can handle- hey, that hurts!”

“Well, I got the fucking glass out! Now say thank you.”

You sighed. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll ask Iida for a vacuum.”

With that, you walked out of the dorm room. Meanwhile, Bakugou was trying to ease his rapidly beating heart. God, why did you have to put yourself into dangerous situations like that? Were you trying to make him worry or something? He wiped his face to calm himself down. Dammit.

***

Bakugou had no filter. And this was one of his… not so good moments. He was pissed. Up to the point where Kirishima, Ashida, Jiro and the others were too scared to go into the common room. The door was cracked open slightly, and they all peaked through waiting for Bakugou to go back into his dorm or faint from exhaustion. That’s how you came upon the scene. You wanted to get your notebook to show Izuku different costume designs when you were bombarded with requests.

“(Y/N), Bakugou is going crazy!” Sero exclaimed, not giving you a chance to say something.

Ashida nodded, “Yeah! He’s not letting us go into our dorms! I just want to take a freaking shower!”

“He’s getting in the way of our schedules!” Iida said, chopping the air with his hand. “If this keeps happening, the teachers will end up getting involved!”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They were acting as if Bakugou was some crazy monster or something; in reality, he can be a real softie sometimes. You were sure that there was just a small misunderstanding between him and one of his classmates.

The students led you to the door of the common room, and you couldn’t help but survey the damage. What the hell? A vase was broken, the TV had a crack in it and a phone was thrown promptly across the room.

“So this is what you do when I’m not around.” You remarked, drawing the attention of Bakugou who was sulking on the couch.

“No my fault everyone is acting like a piece of shit,” Kutsuki grumbled, “Fucking extras.”

“What did they do?” You asked gently, glancing at the TV that was very much needing a replacement.

He didn’t say anything. This probably meant it was really stupid.

Tapping your foot on the ground and crossing your arms over chest, you gave him a pointed look. “They didn’t do anything, did they?”

“I’M TELLING YOU THEY DID!”

“You didn’t tell me anything,” you argued.

“If you’re gonna act like that, why don’t you just run along with fucking Deku?”

You blinked. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“WELL, I DON’T NEED YOU! I DON’T NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP OKAY?!”

Silence. There was no doubt the other students heard his outburst from behind the door. “Is that how you really feel?”

“Wait-”

It must have dawned on him. The look on his face said so, anyway. He looked like he was going to punch himself.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

And with your tears brimming in your eyes, you stormed out of the room, Uraraka catching your arm. She looked like she was about to say something but you cut her off. “The common room will be empty in 5 minutes. Count on it.”

You were right.

***

3 weeks. You had been ignoring Bakugou for 3 weeks. It was getting to the point where even Aizawa felt as if something was up. Hell, you even went up to him to ask if you could swap seats with Aoyama who was the furthest away from him and closest to the door. It was a strange request coming from you; you were always sitting directly next to Bakugou – why did you want to change now? Tsuyu was also concerned, and as your closest friend besides Katsuki, she knew something was going on between the two of you.

Mina was doing her best not to push you together because she knew you would kill her for that. But the tension in the air was unbearable. You were always the one initiating conversations, so that was why the classroom was always so lively in the morning. For the past couple of weeks, there was only obvious tension as Bakugou got angrier and angrier.

‘What are you doing talking to stupid Deku? Why the hell are you laughing with him? Is he better company than I am?’ he thought to himself, glaring at the wall.

That’s when he heard it.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s up with you and Kacchan?”

The room froze. Mina and Ochako were right by your side, while Asui grabbed a bar of chocolate for you. You just smiled. “Nothing’s up.”

“But aren’t you guys close? I thought you were together or something…” Midoriya continued, ignoring the warning looks from Momo.

“No, not really. And we’re not together.”

That was the last straw. Storming across the classroom, Bakugou had grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room, ignoring Iida’s complaints about it being 5 minutes until class.

“Hey! What are you-”

“Just shut up already!”

You tugged your arm away from him, rubbing your wrist lightly. “What do you want?”

He flinched at his steely tone, eyes fixed on your wrist. “Did I hurt you?”

Scoffing, you shifted your footing so that you were leaning on your back leg. “It’s not the first time.”

“Why are you talking to Deku?”

“What’s wrong with me talking to him? He’s my friend, Bakugou.”

He can’t remember the last time you called him by his last name. Has it really been that long ago? “I didn’t mean what I said,” he mumbled, a tinge of red on the apples of his cheeks.

“What did you mean? My friendship wasn’t something you wanted, I get it. I just thought that you would have… I don’t know… been more comfortable with me after time.” You rolled your eyes preparing to walk back to your class. “Apparently, that’s not the case.”

“I am comfortable around you!” He yelled suddenly, his face getting redder. “Why do you have to make it so… so hard?!”

“I make it hard? I’ve been helping you for the past year! I’ve been cheering you on, helping you train, healed you. What did I do that is so bad?!”

Despite the rapid beating of his heart, Katsuki took your hand and pulled you towards him so that you collided with his chest. With your ear pressed directly against his chest, he tried to calm himself down. “Ya hear that? That is what you do to me.”

You felt your face burn as you listened to his heartbeat. It was quick, slightly uneven, and his chest rose and fell with his breaths.

“Do you like me?”

His breath was caught in his throat. Shit. He buried his face in your neck. “Yeah. I do.”

[kilyra]

You Work for Him?

A/N:  I’m carrying on with the Eric Northman arc because I love him, and other people are gathering here that love him as well. Yay! So this follows all the other fics. I’m not really doing one long story, but it is all connected one shots I guess? 

While you’re unwinding at Merlotte’s Eric shows up to your horror.

Warnings: None. I do have some Swedish between Pam and Eric and I just used Google Translate, so if you know the language and can send me corrections, please do! No spoilers though (I myself am only on S3 or 4, so this is an early Eric style fic…also, please don’t send me any spoilers).

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know! (Credit for this amazing gif goes to @bonniebird​​. Thank you SO much!)

It was hard not to laugh and spit your drink back into your glass from the look Hoyt shot across the table. “Hey, don't look at me! I don't choose the job sites!”

Glancing between you, a wide, lopsided grin broke across Jason's face before he piled on. “Well, see, you say that, but it's your dispatching what sends us out.”

Chuckling, Hoyt bit half of one of his fries before tossing it back onto his plate and looking up. Truthfully, after such a long, crappy day, you were happy to see them both laughing.

“Well yeah, but I don't control what catastrophes happen that you need to swoop in and fix!”

Grabbing another fry, Hoyt used it to point as he frowned. “An overturned manure truck ain't exactly a catastrophe.”

“Oh come on! It is when it's blocking the heart of downtown.”

“Yeah. All three cars had to go a block over. Almost had to shut down the whole town.” Jason's voice was flat but there was a twinkle in his eye as he kept his laugh in.

“Again...I didn't want to send you guys out to clean up a bunch of cow shit. But it had to be done!” The grin that overtook your lips was so wide your cheeks hurt and you were just a hair away from laughing about it all over again.

And it felt nice.

“You were none too broke up about...” Hoyt jumped in but as you noticed the door to Merlotte's swing open with purpose, his words turned to muffled background noise.

Before you even saw who it was, your heart started beating faster. Although you'd only met her once, you immediately recognized Pam's stiff posture as she stepped in and cast a sightly disgusted glare over the room. Moving to the side and pausing, she made space for the person following. Your blood ran cold as you threw up a prayer that this was a dream. That you had just spontaneously passed out at your table and none of this was real. But the slow hush that crawled over the bar made it all too real.

Eric Northman.

Unlike Pam, he didn't waste time scanning over the room. Turning your direction, his eyes fell directly on you, as though he knew exactly where you'd be sitting. Your heart sank.

Eventually, Hoyt realized you had stopped listening, and both he and Jason turned to follow your stare. His eyebrows furrowed together in a quiet mark of confusion as he peered over the back of the booth, but Jason's forehead smoothed as his face dropped.

Eric stayed zeroed in on you as he and Pam strode toward your table. A feeling of dread grew with every, unhurried step. There wasn't a single soul that you had mentioned any of your Eric-related moments to and sweat started on your palm at the thought of anything happening so publicly.

How could anyone understand? You didn't even understand...

As he arrived, Jason's mouth hung open. “M-Mr. Northman...”

Pausing, Eric seemed to notice Jason for the first time as he eyebrow arched high. You knew Eric was giving him the only chance he'd give for Jason to finish his thought, but your friend fell quiet. Amusement lit Pam's eyes as her gaze darted between Jason and her maker. A small curl tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she stayed quiet.

You couldn't watch the panic grow on Jason's face for long before you stepped in. “Eric? What...are you doing here?”

Jason swallowed as he turned towards you wide-eyed. Hoyt's eyebrows furrowed deeper.

With a long blink, Eric turned his focus back on you before an unnatural smile snaked over his lips. You weren't sure if his attempt to look friendly was sincere, or if he was trying to make you uncomfortable. “I'm here to talk to you, sweetheart.”

Although the entire bar had fallen silent – staff and patrons alike – everything felt loud. It was almost hard to hear Eric over the rushing in your ears and people's stares felt like they were noisy somehow. Even Sam Merlotte stood motionless by the bar, his bar towel hanging from his balled fist.

Your eyes narrowed like that could block everything out and let you think. “W-what?”

“But not here,” he finished simply as his eyes bore into yours. Clearly uninterested in explaining himself, his stare intensified and your cheeks suddenly felt like they were on fire. Between his scrutiny and the attention of everyone in Merlotte's, you just wanted to crawl under the table and take a breath.

And yet, through all of that, your mind raced. What the hell could be so important?

The room stayed frozen until Eric leaned your direction. It may have been to whisper in your ear or grab your arm, but the sudden flurry of motion around him stopped whatever he was about to do.

On his feet, but still in the booth, Jason was already reaching across the table towards you as if he could magically shove himself between you and Eric. “Whoa, hold up there a minute.”

“Hush up, hot stuff. Grown-ups are talking." Taking a smooth step to the side, Pam moved against the edge of the booth, completely blocking in Jason. Her stance was relaxed, lightly leaning her knee along the seat, but she was completely immovable.

Trapped but still half-standing, Jason's hands clenched tightly as he shot Pam an unnoticed glare. Frustration, confusion, and anger swirled over his features in a quiet dance of emotion as both vampires ignored him.

Meanwhile, Hoyt shuffled next to him, hauling up short when he realized Jason wasn't moving. But, the tension that rippled up his arm proved he was ready to spring into action as soon as shit went down. Swallowing heavily, his eyes trailed back over to you as though he were trying to decide how bad the situation was.

Guilt surged across your chest at how willing they were to help even when they had no idea what was going on.

Pam grinned, her amusement clear as Eric quickly swept a sidelong gaze at the pair. His eyebrows raised as he let out a soft huff through his nose. Looking back at you, the good humour slowly drained from his expression as he nodded towards the door.

Under the table, your knees had turned to jelly. You weren't trying to make it all worse, but the sheer panic of being outed was running its way through your body. Slowly, your lips parted and you softly gasped for air. It was stale in your mouth.

And then Sam was suddenly there. His back visibly bristled as he pushed himself between you and Eric with his hands spread apart. The bar rag still hung from his fingers as he held his palms out. “Whoa...hey...what's uh...what's going on here?”

Not backing up, Eric loomed over the shorter man. His expression remained dispassionate, but there was a harder edge to his tone. “It's none of your concern.”

Squeezing his eyes closed in a pronounced blink, Sam relaxed his hands slightly. The one in front of you, however, remained protectively outstretched. "Well, actually, I get entirely concerned every time you step foot in my bar.”

Tilting his head, Eric cocked his eyebrow and loosely gestured to the rest of the room. “Do you not welcome all patrons here?”

Following his hand, you realized everyone was still staring. Some people dropped their gaze when you caught it but you weren't sure if it was from shame or fear. The one table that matched your look with an open glare was a group of muscle-bound, younger men with short sleeves and suspiciously-clean trucker hats. Quickly, you looked away.

“I do. Right up until they start causing shit. Which, with you, seems to happen almost immediately." The slight shake to the edges of Sam's shaggy hair was the only giveaway that he was full of adrenaline. As he stood toe to toe with the vampire, using a firm but exhausted tone, nothing else hinted that he recognized the danger he was putting himself in.

It was Eric that finally broke the staredown with a faint smile briefly ghosting his lips. The cold look of disinterest he shot Sam seemed to find a heated spark as he put his focus on you. "As entertaining as this is, I don't have time for these games. We need to leave."

Your heart pounded as he fell quiet. Something was wrong. If nothing else, you needed to tell your friends to stand down, but the words were trapped in your throat. Trying to swallow back the lump of sand in your mouth did nothing.

Not being deterred, Sam leaned towards the table, momentarily blocking your view of Eric. “Doesn't look to me like she wants to go anywhere with you.”

“I don't care,” a slight growl entered Eric's tone, betraying his passive features.

Violently, your stomach started to lurch. It was getting hard to see.

“She's...”

Please don't.

“My...”

DON'T

Adrenaline burst through you so fast, you were instantly shaking as you silently screamed for him to stop. The panic was so thorough that it took a moment to realize he had paused.

Risking a glance, you found his expression had grown stony as he captured your eyes.

He could feel your fear.

Lowering his chin, he continued to hold your stare as he finished flatly. “Associate.”

“She's your...?” Sam stopped as he turned to you. His deeply furrowed brow creased even deeper as he blinked at you. “You're his what?”

Associate​?

“Uh..." It was all you could get out. Reaching for your drink, you stopped short of trying to lift it to your lips when you saw the tremble in your hands.

Watching you closely, Eric's tone was gentler as he nodded to the table. "Do you always have trouble with glasses, or is it just when I'm around?"

A twitch in the corner of his mouth was all the smile he offered. That, with the sudden softness in his tone, felt like a kick to the gut. Did you actually hurt his feelings?

“You...work for him?” Jason's voice grew higher as he struggled to understand. Frowning at you, he was rooted to his seat, no longer trying to push past Pam. Hoyt stayed quiet as his gaze shifted between you and Eric.

“N-no. I don't. I just...we..." The words trailed off into silence, your mind going blank. How could you explain it? He called you his once but...what did that even mean?

Eric turned his head towards Jason so slowly that you weren't even sure he had heard him at all. The colour drained from Jason's face while the vampire's eyes flickered over him before doing the same to Hoyt. His face did nothing to reveal whatever assessment he made about the tense pair.

Without acknowledging that you even spoke, he smoothly replied. "No. But there is an issue at Fangtasia that requires her attention."

With all the intensity of a confused puppy, Jason looked over at you. “But...she works for the town of Bon Temps, not Shreveport?”

Scoffing loudly, Pam rolled her eyes and shot a pointed look at Eric. His lips pursed together in a tight line in reply.

“I can't argue with that. You keep smart company, Y/n,” he finally replied as he took a step back from the table and nodded towards the door.

“What?” Pam finally broke her silence as her eyebrows shot up in equal parts irritation and surprise.

“More trouble isn't going to help anything.” Eric had dropped his voice, but you picked it up all the same.

Trouble? Although your adrenaline hadn't slowed, your heart pounded even harder. Clutching your hands tightly in your lap, your knuckles turned white.

“Jag trodde att vi var tvungna att få-”

“Vi ska. Senare.” Eric snapped.

Swallowing back whatever she was about to say, Pam clenched her jaw as she stepped away from the booth. Jason didn't make a move to get up, even once he was free.

Moving back from Sam, Eric shot you one more quiet look before Pam flanked him. It twisted the knots in your stomach and if it wasn't for all the eyes on you, cementing you to the spot, you would have dashed after him.

Not sparing another look back, the pair left Merlotte's.

Leaning forward, Jason tilted his head. “Is he why you wanted me to train you?”

Fighting past a layer of stunned numbness, you managed to shake your head. But it wasn't exactly convincing. “N-no...”

Still not convincing.

A firm hand on your arm pulled you out of your shock a little further as you looked up and saw Sam pouring all his concern through his soft blue eyes. When he spoke, there was a surprising gentleness there. “Are you okay?”

Reaching up, you set your hand over his, offering what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah...thank you, Sam."

With a noticeable blink, he nodded before patting your shoulder. As he returned to his place by the bar, he waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, show's over folks. Get back to drinking those looks off your faces.”

You didn't notice it, but the table of trucker hats didn't stop eyeing you.

Still grasping at every attempt to understand what happened, Jason's voice brought you back. “But, how do you even know Mr. Northman?”

Pressing your fingers to your temple, you would have laughed if you weren't so unsettled.

“You...you really don't talk to your sister much, do you?”

Swedish translations according to Google 1) I thought we had to get- 2) We will. Later.

Taglist:  @foreverfaeries  @flower-two  @getlostinyourparadise​   @selfishkiddo  @angelicshinigami  @parkersbabey @thatchampagnebitch @mysteryoflovve  @edweirdoddlepot  @divadinag  @crazy-fandom-girl1  @givemeabite @breanime @shondlenoodle @hermionesalvatore84   @dyingformyships   @divadinag  @dreamers-wonderland @adriellej  @bitchader

[flirting-with-psychology]

[zombiebandido]

Can you recommend any Neil Gaiman to me, aside from Stardust or Good Omens? I cannot

What’s the best concert you’ve been to, if you’ve been? Idk, I think I’m just not huge on concerts

What’s the funniest screenname you’ve ever seen? i-run-with-scissors-to-feel-dangerous

Is there an animal you like that most people don’t? Don’t think so

Is there an animal that you think is overrated in terms of how it’s liked? Goats or cows, maybe

Is there a time period you think is underrated? Not really

What about music? Showtunes

Do you find yourself listening to music that’s a bit more esoteric? No

What are your three favorite books and why? Harry Potter because of the worldbuilding, Mistborn because of the worldbuilding and characters, A Confusion of Princes because it is a fun standalone book

What about authors? Idk, I mostly like specific books  Do you have any likes you wouldn’t tell someone until you got to know them? Nah probably not

Do you have a favorite language? Not really

What about a place you’ve always wanted to visit? Ireland

What’s something someone does or says that just makes you laugh? Idk, it’s usually situational

Do goldfish crackers ever make you sick, or is that just me? No?

Do you have a favorite art style? Probably realistic

Do you have a favorite myth/fairy-tale? No, sorry I’m being boring with this quiz

Who is your favorite person aside from family? Probably my bff

Do any of your pets (if you have them) have weird quirks? My cat was just very emphatic

Do you listen to music from anywhere besides America? Not really

Have you ever “quit” a site and came back to it more than once? No

Do you have an “odd” fascination with anything? Dice

What is the thing you want most at this moment? An interesting job and a return to normal from the pandemic

What was the last book you read and what was it about? I’m currently reading The Martian about an astronaut stranded on mars

What was the worst book you’ve ever read & why? Walk Two Moons because the twist ending fucked me up

Do you have a favorite breed of dog or cat? Which? Golden retrievers

If you like any anime/manga, what are some titles you recommend? I don’t really like it

What do you think about school in general? I thought it was interesting and I wish I could go back

What’s the hardest thing you’ve been through, & what did you learn from it? Maybe the braces. Dk what I learned from it

What are three “unrealistic” things you want most? An interesting creative job with steady and high pay lol, the lottery, the good place experience from The Good Place

What are some of your favorite foods? Pasta, chocolate, cereal. I am a simple girl

Where do you like to buy your clothes? Kohl’s, Macy’s, and thrift shops

Do you take any daily vitamins? When I remember

Who are three of your favorite fictional characters of all time? Kelsier from Mistborn, Sirius Black from Harry Potter, Raydan Lykel from The Crown and the Flame

If you had to give the world a pre-existing mythological/fictional being, what would it be? Idfk

When buying Slurpees, if you do, do you get only one flavor or mix them? Mixing is fun

Do you have a favorite 7Eleven food? No

Do you have any desire to learn (a) foreign language(s)? Which? Not strongly

If you could have any career, “realistic”-ness aside, what would it be? Something in film maybe

What are three memorable movies from your childhood? The Little Mermaid, Harry Potter, Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper

Do you, personally, put a space after ellipses, or not? Let me check... do I? I guess I do

What do some of the things that inspire you have in common? Making things

Micky D’s sweet tea, y/n/other? No

What are three of your best (non-physical) qualities? Creativity, honesty, smarts

What are three of your worst (again; non-physical) qualities? Stubbornness, anxiety, lack of empathy

What is one of your firmest beliefs? I don’t really have firm beliefs

Do you ever question things until you’re unsure of even the silliest thing? Yes

Do you have anything that keeps you from doing something you’d truly enjoy? Anxiety and procrastination, and money

What are your three biggest pet peeves (personality-wise) in others? Holier-than-thou people, acting like you’re too cool for fun, being unsafe

Do you work to fix your faults? Or at least, admit to them? I admit to most of them but I’m not so great at working on them

What are three of your best physical qualities? (NOT EYES!) Why not eyes? Other than that, I guess hair color, boobs, singing voice (at least I’d like to think so)

What are some of your greatest aspirations? Do something fun, have a good social life, see what I would look like in my prime

How do you hope the world will change, if at all? Get done with the pandemic, stop having capitalism be so shitty

Who are three (fairly known) people you find very intriguing? Taylor Swift, Voldemort, F. Scott Fitzgerald

What are three things that make you the happiest? hanging out with friends, crafts, cuddling with my boyfriend

What is/are your view(s) on god, religion, spirituality, or relations to? I don’t believe in them

Are you arachnophobic or scared of spiders in the least? YES

Do you play WoW? What do you think of it either way? No, I am just not that into video games

What kind of computer do you have? Windows 7/Vista/XP/Other? Macbook Pro

What are you good at? Crafts and school

What career do you hope to have? Something creative

Are you taking any interesting classes in school/do you not attend? I’m finished with school but I wish I could go back

If you don’t attend, are you taking any “lessons” for anything? No

A book/piece that has had an exceptional impact on your life? Harry Potter

If you know of pandora.com, what is your favorite station? I haven’t listened to pandora in ages

Have you ever “lost” a friend in any way? How did you deal? Some just faded away but some actively ditched me and I tried to find out why

Any music recommendations? Showtunes

What are at least three of your biggest fears? Spiders, living a mundane life, covid right now

Most recently read book that you liked? A Confusion of Princes

Do you have a piece of jewelry you don’t like to take off? No, I have so many that I like to alternate them

Do you have a favorite quote? Why is it your favorite? Carpe Diem. Haven’t lived it much lately though Any odd pastimes you have? Making lists and charts

Are you quirky in any way? (Name them please). My fashion sense especially in high school, the nerdy things I do

Have any practices you aren’t opposed to but wouldn’t do yourself? Probably a lot, I’m generally of the live and let live mindset

Political standing?

Left

Do you have any piercings/what do you think about piercings? I just have my ears pierced

Do you have a favorite material? I’m a fan of soft materials like suede or velvet, also metals like copper and silver

What are three names you’d name a pet if you HAD to get a pet right now? It depends on the pet

Do you like to listen to dorky/amusing music? Idk

Coffee vs. Tea vs. Energy Drinks: Order from favorite to least favorite. Tea, energy drinks, coffee

Do you like more “fruity” sweets or “savory” sweets? Fruity unless it’s chocolate

What do you hate the most? Spiders

What genres of music are your favorite? Showtunes

Do you believe in true love? Idk

Do you believe in love at first sight? If yes, why? No

What are some of your favorite clothing accessories? Jewelry

If reincarnation exists, what sort of person would you want to be next?

One of those outgoing guys that always has adventures with his friends What are some things you believe strongly in? Idk

Where’s your favorite place you’ve been? London was pretty cool, also Italy

What sort of books and movies do you like? For books: sci-fi, fantasy, dystopia. For movies: rom-com, sci-fi, musical

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Saturday? Idk, just stay in

Is there a book you’ve read that really touched you? The Great Gatsby just because I related to Gatsby a lot

Do you have a favorite artist? Taylor Swift

PC or MAC? Mac

What do you love doing? Crafts, shopping, board games

If you could create the perfect world for yourself, what would it be? Basically just the good place from The Good Place. Unlimited time and resources to learn and try things without pressure to make money off it

Do you think that fate plays a part in people’s lives? Not really

Are you religious, spiritual, atheist…? Atheist

What are your opinions on the media? The media is a very broad range of things

Do you think that people throw the words “love” and “hate” around too much? Idk

What is your favorite piece of technology that you own? My laptop

What’s a piece of technology you’d like to own? I have what I want at the moment.

Are you afraid of technology developing to where we’re too reliant on it? A little bit of getting to the point where a lot of jobs get replaced with AI, because instead of making lives easier like they could be, there will just be a huge unempolyment problem that our stupid capitalist society won’t solve

Does it bother you when people do things to fit in with a certain crowd? If it’s not what they want to do

Hot or cold? Cold Do you think that Bzoink should extent the character amount for questions? I don’t use Bzoink

Do you have a favorite combination of complimentary colors? Maybe green and pink

Do you know why all the young people who have nice cars always look grumpy? I don’t think I’ve noticed that

What’s your favorite odd ice cream flavor? Lemon Sorbet or Coffee Toffee Bar Crunch

Where do you like to get your ice cream? Haagen Dasz or Ben and Jerry’s

What’s your opinion on stereotypes/labels? Idk

Do you ever use random word generators for Bzoinkoids?

What?

Do you believe that history repeats itself? It sure seems like it is

Would you rather learn from your mistakes or just undo them? Learn from them

What was the most interesting class you had in school? My words and music class in college Do you write? If so, what? I used to write poetry, I sometimes come up with stories but I don’t really write them

Do you have a favorite website? Tumblr and Etsy

Do you think that the quality of TV shows is going down? No, there are usually good ones to discover

Do you have a favorite culture? Maybe Celtic. I just like the art patterns What was a story you heard as a child that really affected you? The Headless Horseman scared me a lot

Who was your favorite grade-school teacher and why? My third grade teacher and my 6th grade math teacher

Do you think that the world will end? How? Probably in a few billion years when the sun turns into a red giant

Do you believe in Global Warming? Have you researched it? Yes but I haven’t researched it

Do you prefer piercings or tattoos? Tattoos

Do you remember your dreams? Sometimes

[pixie88]

Bad Decision

Chapter 4 - Our Little Secret.

A/N: Queen B fanfiction. I’m currently editing and adding all  my FF to my new account. All being added to my pinned masterlist on my profile. Let me know if you would like to be tagged! 

Find previous chapters HERE under Queen B - Our Little Secret.

Word count: 1757

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Some adult language & Angst

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Pixelberry.

Pairings: Ian x MC - Lyla.

Enjoy!

"Lillian, I can explain" Ian tells her "How can any explanation make the fact you are sleeping with a student make this right? Ian, this is wrong on so many levels! Do you not care about your career?" she asks him.

I close the door, Ian turns to me for help "Lillian, I understand this looks bad but I promise this isn't how it started. When we first met I had no idea he was my professor nor did he know I was his student" "So when you did find out why didn't you stop it Ian?" Lillian asks him.

"Lillian, I tried, but the more I denied myself the more I wanted. I love Lyla, I'm even moving to a different university, so I can be with her without any repercussions" " So, you tried? It doesn't look like you tried very hard Ian! What do you two fuck between classes? I bet Lyla is an A class student in your class she has to be considering she's fucking her professor. Ian, how can you be so reckless?" Ian face turns to annoyance.

Lillian, Stop! I will not have you talk about or to Lyla like that! Yes, I have been reckless, but that is from my own doing!" Lillian face soften "Ian, I'm sorry! I just don't want this to blow up in your face and end your career you worked so hard for" (Lillian is right, I can't let Ian risk his career for me. At least not while he's still working here).

"Ian, your sister is right, maybe we should cool it until you start your new job. I can't risk you losing everything for me. So, I think it is best that you find a new TA for the rest of your time here. I'll see you in class." I put the graded essays on the small coffee table.

I go to leave the room, but I feel an arm on my shoulder "Lyla, No! Don't do this!" I turn to face him, his eyes are sad "Ian, I don't want to, but we have to," I see Lillian giving me an agreeing nod to the side of Ian.

"We can still carry on in secret, no one will know" his eye pleading with me (I have to tell him about Poppy) "Someone found out!" I tell him, and he pulls away "You're lying! You're just saying that, so I agree to take a break." "Ian, I wish I was, but I'm not. Poppy found out about us she had photo's of us. She was going to use them to blackmail me, but I managed to delete every copy she had and burn the paper ones. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to be a part of my mess" he gives me those puppy dog eyes I can't resist.

"Lyla, You should have told me. We could've dealt with that together" I smile "As much as I love you being my knight in shining armour, this was my mess" "No Lyla, It was our mess. You should've told me." he cups my face.

"I know, but so we don't have this problem again, I think we cool it just until you no longer my professor!" he lets go of my face, turns away from me and takes a seat behind his desk.

"Ian, I know it must be hard, but it makes sense and it's only for a few weeks. I think what Lyla is doing is very noble" she smiles at me.

"If that's all Lyla you may go. I'll get a new TA sorted from tomorrow." he doesn't look at me. I leave his office deflated. (Get a grip 8 weeks aren't that long).

2 Weeks later, I have only seen Ian in class I avoid being the first one there so it isn't awkward or at least any more awkward than Ian has made it. Ian avoids my eyes in every lesson and ignores me around campus. He got a new TA 2 days after I told him to get a new one.

I'm not sure Tony seems up to the job as Ian stressed when ever he's around. Ian's class has ended and I'm getting my stuff together to leave when I hear "Ian! It's so good to see you again" I look up to see Lexi approaching Ian's desk at the front of the class.

I hear his husky tone as I make my way to the end of the aisle to leave the classroom "Lexi, you're early" I reach the door when I hear her reply, "Oh, I thought maybe we could have a few drinks before Richard and Annie arrive" (Argh I need a drink and also a bath tub to drown Lexi in).

I send a quick text to Zoe asking if she was free tonight, but she has a lot of studying to catch up on so would probably spend the night in the library.

(Looks like your on your own tonight Lyla).

After I head home to change I found myself outside The Base Lounge a new club that opened last week. I make my way inside and take a seat at the bar and order a passion fruit martini.

After I don't know how many martinis I pull out my phone. I want to text Ian but I shouldn't, but I go against my better judgement.

[Hi Ian, I hope yuo are having a dreadful time on your date with Lexi!]

[You* Whoops]

PING (5 Minutes later)

[Lyla, I am not on a date with Lexi. We are just having dinner with a few colleagues.]

I laugh nearly falling off the bar stool.

[I bet that's not how she sees it. Now you're free for the making.]

[making*]

[Wait that's still not right taking*]

PING (3 Minutes later)

[Lyla, No one is going to take me. You said it was for the best!]

[That was sober Lyla's idea. She's stupid!! I dom't like her!]

[Don't*]

PING (2 Minutes later)

[Lyla, Are you drunk?]

[Well duh! Come on progessor you have a degree. I thought that was obvious!]

PING (1 Minute later)

[Maybe you should get your friends to take you home to sober up!]

[Professor*]

[ Haha, I would but Zoey was busy]

PING (50 seconds later)

[You're by yourself??]

[You know for a professor you are pretty dumb. Of courses I'm by myself if Zoey isn't here. I'm going to walk home after I have been for a pee. Do you know this place has shared toilets! I know it's new but that's just weird right?]

[Course*]

PING (30 Seconds later)

[LYLA, DO NOT WALK HOME! I'M COMING TO GET YOU! JUST STAY THERE!!]

[No need to shout. Well text shout haha. No I'm fine. I can walk. I'll see you in class tomorrow]

I hear my phone continuously ping and ring, but I ignore it and I make my way out of the club. I start walking in the direction I think my dorm is in.

(I feel like I've been walking forever, everything is spinning, Oh no I'm going to...) I run over to the nearest bin and puke. Once I've stopped I clean myself open with a tissue I have in my bag. (Not my classiest moment) "Are you ok?" I look up to find some guy with long black hair staring at me.

(Oh my god, I have hair envy) "Wow, I love your hair!" He smiles "Thanks, but are you ok?" "Yes, I am fine frank you, I mean thank you" "Are you on your way home?" I look at him confused.

(Oh god, he's one of these weirdos that bury young girls under his driveway) "STRANGER DANGER!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I move away from Mr. Perfect Hair. "Stay away from me" he seems shocked "No! Look, I was just checking you were ok. I did mean to scare you" I still back away from him.

"Keep away from me," I shout at him again. I hear a car pull up, the headlights light us up I turn I can't see who it is but because the light is blinding me but I soon recognize the voice.

"Lyla, there you are" Ian comes into view "I've been looking everywhere for you!" he turns to Mr. Perfect Hair "Can I help you?" Ian asks him. "I was just checking she was ok when I saw her throwing up in the bin over there then the mad cow started screaming stranger danger. She's fucking nuts mate." (Everything after that happened in slow motion) Ian squares Mr. Perfect Hair straight in the jaw.

He runs off and Ian takes my hand and leads me to his car.

He gets into the driver's seat, he seems angry "Are you ok Ian?" his jaw tenses "Ian, I said are yo..." "I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, LYLA!" he shouts, "Excuse you!" "I'm sorry I didn't mean to shout, but you have no idea how worried I was about you!" "Ian, I'm ok!" "You might not have been! Why would you put yourself in danger like that?" "I wanted a drink and no one was free, Plus I was jealous!" I turn away from him.

"Jealous?" he asks I roll my eye "Yes, jealous of Lexi being able to be seen out in public with you and just in your company," he looks over to me with soft eyes "Lyla, This was your idea. I was happy to keep seeing you in secret, but you decided it was best." "Now I don't think it's best. Ian, I miss you," he quickly looks over to me with a smile before returning his eyes to the road.

"I have to admit I've missed you terribly, but you need to figure out what you want!" "Ian, it's you! I want you. I can't wait 6 more weeks, it's killing me now" I see him smirk.

He takes my hand and pulls it to his lips before placing a small kiss against my knuckles "I want you to, Lyla. But if we are going to do this we need to be careful, very careful! No one can know!" "Of course!" "Not even Lillian!" "Ok, but if we are trying to be careful for the next 6 weeks I don't think you should be seen dropping me at my dorm" "Where shall I drop you home?" I grin.

"At your place Professor!" I wink.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 5.

[bookishable]

goblet of fire book moments

‘the riddles all appeared to be in perfect health—apart from the fact that they were all dead.’

ron, hermione, hagrid and sirius sending harry food and birthday cakes over the summer so he would have enough to eat

“she did put enough stamps on, then”

“we’ve been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things, we thought they just liked the noise.”

percy: we’re trying to sTAnDaRdiSe cAuLdRoN tHiCkNeSs ron: that’ll change the world, that will

arthur trying to light a fire at the world cup and ron being like but we’ve got an oven

YOU BUST SLUG

the guy named archie wearing a dress because he thought it was regular muggle clothing

ludo bagman existing

crouch calling percy “weatherby”

“oh, shut up, weatherby”

the quidditch world cup actually happening and being amazing

“you can speak english! and you’ve been letting me mime everything all day!” “vell, it vos very funny”

fred and george predicting the quidditch match score and earning all the money they bet back

“if the hogwarts express crashed tomorrow, and george and i died, how would you feel knowing that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?”

harry ‘would willingly have split all the money in his gringotts vault with the weasleys’ <3 my boy is precious

the visual of mrs weasley giving amos diggory a piece of toast through the fire where his head was

“it would’ve been so easy to push malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident… shame his mother likes him…”

hermione not eating at the first feast in aid of house elves and ron waving puddings at her: “hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of professor mcgonagall that he gave up.”

dumbledore: the triwizard tournament will be taking place at hogwarts this year fred: you’re JOKING dumbledore: i am not joking, but i did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar— mcgonagall: *clears throat loudly*

blast-ended skrewts

harry: why have i got two neptunes ron: *imitating trelawney* when two neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, harry

“has your mother always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”

CONSTANT VIGILANCE

‘telling neville what professor sprout had said, harry thought, had been a very tactful way of cheering neville up, for neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. it was the sort of thing professor lupin would have done.’

harry and ron’s made-up divination predictions that foreshadow the rest of the book

S.P.E.W

“excuse me, i don’t like people just because they’re handsome!” ron gave a false cough which sounded oddly like ‘lockhart’

ron: that’s not a normal girl, they don’t make them like that at hogwarts harry: *looking at cho* they make them ok at hogwarts hermione: wHeN yOu’Ve bOtH pUt yOuR EyeS bAcK iN

“we all know professor moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn’t discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime”

hermione bringing harry some toast and taking him on a walk at breakfast so he wouldn’t have to face ron and the rest of the gryffindors

“ah, this is nice and cosy.” it was a broom cupboard. harry stared at her.

rita: i hope you saw my piece over the summer? dumbledore: i particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat

charlie weasley existing

“there are switching spells… but what’s the point of switching it? unless you swapped its fangs for wine gums or something”

moody: play to your strengths harry: i haven’t got any moody: excuse me

trelawney telling harry that he was in danger of a sudden, violent death: “well that’s good, just as long as it’s not drawn out, i don’t want to suffer”

“no, i’m fine,” said harry, wondering why he kept telling people this, and wondering whether he had ever been less fine.

‘he wouldn’t have cared if karkaroff had given him zero; ron’s indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him.’

“yeah, you can have a word, goodbye.”

“i thought it sounded a bit like percy singing… maybe you’ve got to attack him while he’s in the shower”

CANARY CREAMS

ron giving dobby his christmas jumper

harry and ron having a sword fight with the fake wands

harry: i don’t dance mcgonagall: oh yes you do

harry: why do girls have to move in packs? how do you get one on their own? ron: lasso one

“ron, can we borrow pigwidgeon?” “why?” “because george wants to invite him to the ball”

“harry—we’ve just got to grit our teeth and do it,” said ron, in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress.

ordering food at the yule ball feast by telling the plate what they want to eat

“when i went back to investigate, i discovered that the room had vanished. possibly it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning—or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder.”

“nice socks, potter”

snape: what are you doing? ron: we’re walking. not against the law, is it?

“i wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick”

harry calling rita skeeta a cow and dumbledore being like “i have gone temporarily deaf and haven’t any idea what you said”

aberforth dumbledore being mentioned to have been prosecuted for practising inappropriate charms on a goat

“never be ashamed,” my dad used ter say, “there’s some who’ll hold it against you, but they’re not worth botherin’ with.” someone hold me i’m crying

“just go down to the lake tomorrow, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they’ve nicked and see if they chuck it out. best you can do, mate.”

‘hermione seemed to be taking the library’s lack of useful information as a personal insult; it had never failed her before.’

“your wheezy, sir! the thing harry potter will miss most!”

dumbledore speaking mermish

‘ron and hermione both gave harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.’ honestly if this isn’t a summary of the series idk what is

ron: i could’ve taken those mer-idiots any time hermione: what were you going to do, snore at them?

sirius “fulfilling his duty as godfather” by sleeping in a cave and living off rats to be near harry

“if you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”

referring to sirius as ‘snuffles’

winky: you is nosing dobby: harrypotterisbraveandnobleandharrypotterisnotnosy!!!

NIFFLERS

“aren’t you two ever going to read hogwarts: a history?” “what’s the point? you know it off by heart, we can just ask you.”

harry and cedric uniting in their indignance at the hedges for the third task growing all over the quidditch pitch

bagman: shall i wait for you harry? harry: no it’s ok, i think i can find the castle on my own, thanks

trelawney: if you leave you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever— harry: i don’t want to see anything except a headache cure

dumbledore saying madame maxime is “a very able headmistress—and an excellent dancer”

“i didn’t see madame maxime anywhere, though, and she’d have a job hiding, wouldn’t she?”

“curiosity is not a sin, but we should exercise caution with our curiosity…”

harry: but the task’s not until tonight! *spills scrambled eggs* mcgonagall: i’m aware of that, potter

harry expecting the dursleys to turn up for the third task and it turns out to be mrs weasley and bill and they spend the day wandering around the castle

harry working out the sphinx’s riddle and being ‘amazed at his own brilliance’

“you fail to recognise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be!”

‘he had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother.’

“what’s comin’ will come, an’ we’ll meet it when it does.”

“cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities which distinguish hufflepuff house: he was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. his death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not.”

“we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.”

“we can fight only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.”

hermione keeping rita skeeta in a jar and blackmailing her to not write any more stories after she found out rita was an unregistered animagus

harry giving fred and george all his triwizard winnings because he’s the kind boy he is

[thegirlwholied]

oh no, my fingers slipped and 2k+ words later

... of all the things on my need-to-write list, a Jaime x Brienne Mansfield Park AU was not one of them until suddenly it was, and goodbye & good luck to my lunch hour, here is a remixed ‘we have all a better guide in ourselves’ scene taking place midway through a full-blown story line that exists only in my head. Never mind that I once-upon-a-time wrote a 30-page paper about Austen very deliberately not making Henry Crawford the romantic hero, my heart still wins over my head, as, uh, Jaime Lannister is definitely not the Edmund Bertram type. and so, if this is your type of nonsense as well as mine...

The rocky trail around Tarth’s coast had been shaped for walking, an age ago, but it still had its dangers. It narrowed and wound so that no matter which side of the path a hiker took, the cliff drop rarely stayed more than a step away for long. The worn stairs shaped into the rock threatened to crumble. Mr. Lannister’s walking stick was, for once, of more use than sheer affectation and dramatic swishes. Brienne had picked up an errant tree branch herself, for balance and to test the ground. They spoke little, as she took him to the summit, though he knocked his stick against hers more than once. She ascribed it to accident or an error in footing, but when they’d reached the summit, where the trail gave way to sky, with only a poor wooden post between them and the view, he rapped her stick very deliberately, twice, until she looked at him.

“I’ve been more contemplative than I can stand,” Mr. Lannister said. “Are you so pitiless with all your suitors?”

“That’s neither amusing nor kind, ser.” Brienne tried to make her voice a warning; it came out more trembling than she liked. She gripped the rail and tried to keep her attention on her familiar, best-loved setting, the waves crashing below and the wind a strong enough push that one shouldn’t let their feet go to close to the edge. Her home was plenty beautiful enough to keep her eyes off him.

“Kind,” he said, mulling over the word—she failed and glanced at him, his mouth moving as if he was testing the shape of kindness on his lips. “In the ten years prior to our acquaintance, I did not half so much wonder if I was being kind as I have in the months since we met. I’ve been told you won’t have me, but now you’re going to have to tell it to me, Miss Tarth, and I have arguments to meet whatever yours may be. You do like arguing with me, at least?”

“Like it,” Brienne burst out, incredulous, and the infuriating man laughed.

“Too mild a word choice?” He came to stand beside her. Too close—there were other wanderers on this trail at this hour of day, which made it safe enough for propriety for the two of them to wander together - and yet a danger for gossip. “Is it not a fine argument that you could better me, that you make me think of kindness?”

“Why should I care if I better a man like—” She caught herself, even as she saw the white flash of his teeth, as he, too, remembered words he’d said once before. “Your betterment is no sort of argument. Ser.”

“I see.” Mr. Lannister dragged his walking stick against the rail, pushing it hard against each knot of wood. He was denting the polish. “So you’re inclined to help all the world but me.” He sounded teasing, but there was something of complaint there.

“I’m not… un-inclined to help you,” Brienne protested, her shoulders inclining in his direction despite herself. “I—don’t believe I—”

“You think me beyond becoming a good man, even with such a helpmeet as you.”

Helpmeet. She didn’t know what to make of such an old-story term. There was something of partnership, in it, but more of burden. “That’s not what I think at all.”

“It’s a very good offer,” Mr. Lannister began to say, sourly, and Brienne turned away to stop him there.

She stared out at the waves as she spoke. “A better offer than I will see again, I know.”

“That’s not what I think, either,” he said. “Not the way you mean. I think I’d be better for you, though. I think I could be downright good for you… Miss Tarth. I feel I must be a better man, perhaps almost a good man, when I am with you.”

He moved his hand over, so his fingers just closed over her hand where she clutched the rail. He kept his fingers resting there, unmoving, not trying to take her hand, waiting for her clench to loosen and for her to look at him again.

He was smiling, when she did, with enough rue in it to look softer than she’d ever seen him, even that night by the fire.  

“I could use a compass,” he said, “and your heart points true.”

She stared back at him, the sun-blanketing grey of the sky above them making his hair duller than usual but his eyes no less bright. It took her a moment to recognize the feeling rising within her: exasperation.

“No one’s meant to be a compass to someone else,” Brienne said, sliding her hand away from his on the railing. “That would be—quite a lot of work.”

Mr. Lannister’s smile changed, in a way that made his mouth look sly, and very like his sister’s. “And you’re not up to the task?”

Brienne forced down her initial response, sure the word would come out stammered, and not entirely confident whether she’d answer his challenge with yes or no. She took a deep breath.

“It is not a task anyone should have to bear,” she said, with all the sternness she could muster. “It is not… fair.”

“Nothing’s fair,” Mr. Lannister scoffed, turning from her. He stared out at the blue waters, a moment, the wind teasing against the front of his hair. She kept her eyes on him, her throat ever tightening, and yet although she was watching already when he turned back, his suddenness and warmth both startled her.

“Compasses break, you know,” he said. He reached for her again, his ungloved fingers closing around her bare wrist. Even Brienne’s wrists were far from dainty, but Jaime Lannister was able to close his fingers fully around its circle, his grip urgent, but not tight. “Some men need the luck of spotting a constant star, if they’re ever to find their way from wandering in the dark. Am I not supposed to follow a star, when I spy one?”

Brienne flushed and fought to keep from dropping her eyes. There was color in Mr. Lannister’s tanner cheeks too, the redness of the wind mixed, maybe, with triumph. His other arm came up, as if to reach for her waist. It dropped, as, either between a distant passerby or whatever he reading on her expression, he remembered himself.

“That’s a pretty line,” she said quietly, at last. “But I don’t believe—"

“You don’t believe I want you?” he said, and his walking stick landed on the grass, as his other hand came to clasp atop the other, his palm hot against her knuckles.

Her cheeks felt hotter than they’d ever been, short of childhood fevers. She couldn’t fathom why, still, but she was beginning to believe that. She met his eyes, more even with hers than most men could ever be, and blinked hard. The air was misty up here; that’s all it was.  

“I don’t believe your compass is broken,” she said. “Knowingly walking in the wrong direction—"

“And who’s to say what’s wrong?” Mr. Lannister’s face turned angry: the first time she’d seen his face truly stormy since he came to the Stormlands. His mouth twisted, his eyes narrowed; even such an ugly expression could not make his face unattractive. “The Prince Regent, the law of the land? My father, my—family? Have you found even the family Baratheon to agree, on what righteousness is? What do you think the right direction is, pray tell? Should I be back at Casterly Rock, minding my own estate? Off helping the naval blockade, with the great Admiral Tarth? Is it that I ought to have dueled Rhaegar-bloody-Targaryen himself when I had the chance, or hogtied Robert Baratheon so he might wed my sister sooner? What is it you would have of me, my lady?”

He’d moved closer to her, without letting go. His grip had neither loosened nor tightened. Only his expression pained her.

“I haven’t asked you for anything,” she said, the words truly hurting her. She was, as he’d said, always inclined to help. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t tempted, looking as he did in the seaborne wind. But what he was asking was a path to more pain, not happiness.

“I wish you would,” Jaime Lannister said, looking right into her eyes. “Give me some quest. Give me some way to win you, and see if I don’t.”

She reached, at once, and moved his hands off her wrist, even as he, realizing he’d misspoken immediately, hastened to say, “I don’t mean to imply you a prize, or—"

“A challenge?” Brienne said coolly. “Getting ‘the cow to look to at you’, wasn’t it?”

“I did want you to look at me.” He sounded more a boy than he had before; for a moment, she felt she was seeing him at newly-eighteen, given testimony in a king’s court. “Then, worse, I wanted you to see someone worthwhile, when you did.”

“Is that what you see, when you look at yourself?” He recoiled, as if slapped, and she sighed into the wind. “I can’t lend you any compass, Mr. Lannister. I need my own, myself. I—I wish you well—"

She moved to make her way back down the trail, regretting how long she had to go to be away from him.

“Brienne—"

She turned and found him mid-reach for her, and their eyes dueled a moment. She thought, breathlessly, he meant to grab and kiss her, one last argument and with some anger in it, too. No, she knew he meant to. She’d have to hit him, if he tried, for her reputation and the eyes of any onlookers as much as for herself. Her hand want to her hip, in preparation; his hand, nearly at the back of her neck, froze, as he read her body language.

“Mr. Lannister,” she said, sternly.

His lips very pressed, he brushed her too-short, too-straw-like hair behind her ear with his too-close hand, before he let it drop and stepped back.  

“I wish you’d call me Jaime.”

She could, if she married him. He could be Jaime, someone she didn’t quite know, someone she might like better, if she was engaged to him. That underlined his words. His final argument.

“I can’t,” Brienne said, looking down at her boots. “The—the return path is faster, downhill.”

She did not look up at him, in the time he did not answer, though she imagined he was staring at her, lips still press. Finally, he retrieved his walking stick.

“So it is,” Jaime said. It was impossible not to think of Mr. Lannister that way, even if she would never, ever speak it. “I will not ask you to lead the way twice; the way is marked clearly enough.”

Downhill was easier, though even more excruciating than their uphill climb. Her father met them near the base of the trail; Brienne gave him the smallest shake of her head, and though he kept his expression schooled, there was as much relief there as disappointment.

Mr. Lannister gave his leave to Admiral Tarth and a bow to his daughter, declined the necessary invitation to dine with them, and left for his inn. When Brienne delicately asked about in the morning, it was to learn he was already gone. Whether he’d ridden for Casterly or King’s Landing was unknown.

It was two weeks after, two weeks that would normally be spent luxuriating in being home at Tarth, but were instead spent dwelling on how that was all over then, the ridiculous courtship she had constantly wished over and done and found herself thinking of endlessly now that it was, that word was sent from Evenfall Harbor: there was a ship, for her.

A ship bearing news, she thought they meant, but no: “Regards of Jaime Lannister,” the ship’s skipper said, “for the lady.”

It was an expensive little sailing vessel, of the size of a small pleasure yacht… exactly the sort of ship, at a long ago dinner at Storm’s End, Brienne had advised would be ideal for carrying urgent messages, at some risk but without flying the flag of war. The sort of task she thought a man like Jaime Lannister or Renly Baratheon ought to be better spending their time on, though she didn’t say it aloud. Nor would she compare Jaime to Renly, aloud-- neither man would much like that, and she knew what Jaime, at least, would say-- but she did think they had more in common than they saw, a certain way of arming themselves with laughter most of all. 

“Dear, are you quite sure,” Admiral Tarth said, to his daughter, more baffled than displeased by the sudden addition to Tarth’s docks, “Mr. Lannister understood you refused him?”

She thought Jaime had understood her well enough, after all. The greater difficulty would be in making her father understand the use she intended to put the ship to… whether Selwyn Tarth liked it or not.

She’d just about convinced her father of her plot, to captain the ship herself and run messages sea-to-sea, when one of Renly’s letters came, as intermittent as always. Renly sent weeks-late news: to Tywin Lannister’s fury, his heir had again taken up a commission, as Jaime had tried as a boy. There would be no stopping him this time.

Jaime Lannister was on ship to the Summer Sea and its unending war, and his sister, accordingly to Renly, blamed Brienne Tarth entirely… you think you’d murdered him to hear her, Renly wrote her, laughter in his penmanship, and part of Brienne was, on reading it, afraid she had sent Jaime Lannister toward doom. But thinking of how Jaime lit up talking with her father of the exploits of Admiral ‘Blackfish’ Tully… of how the one moment of camaraderie she’d seen between Jaime Lannister and Robert Baratheon had been of mourning the binds of their first-son status… of the way he’d looked at her, that first dinner she’d spoken up, when broaching both the horrors of war and the necessity of doing something, against a darkening world… especially as she began to put together her own plot to do something, herself, thanks to him… well. Well, she couldn’t be entirely sorry.

[luigis-love]

SOUL MATE WORDS II

A FANFIC FOR THE CHICCOLO WEEK 2019

@chiccolofans

CHAPTER 02

THE DOUBT

 CHICHI.

 Chichi was washing the dishes, humming a merrily tune while doing so. It was a nice Wednesday, and she was planning to make some fish for dinner. Of course, Goku would need to go fish it, while Gohan studied in his bedroom.

 A sparkle of happiness ignited inside Chichi´s eyes while thinking of her son. He was such a beautiful baby boy… yes; he was four, but still no more than a baby, a cute small boy that was the product of her love with her soul mate…

 At the thought, Chichi felt her hands shiver, and she promptly closed the faucet and cleaned her hands with a towel, trying to fool herself and not to pay attention to the unconscious shaking gesture.

 In five years of marriage, Goku had not said the words yet… she was becoming restless about it. But deep inside, hope still sparkled.

 After Gohan was born, she started to investigate more and more about soul mates, from cheesy silly romantic novels to scientific articles that explained the mechanics of the words. Now she knew that the words might take a long time to be said, there were couples that were together for more than twenty years before the words were said. Some of them divorced, kept in touch, and then the words were said. Others discovered that the words were said from someone that was not their partner, and that had been shocking revelations. Others died without ever hearing them.

 Some said that the soul words had to be earned. You could not just meet a person and claim him or her your soulmates.

 Chichi smiled, tossing the towel away.

 It was silly of her to have expected the words to just be said in a few months, or even a year… she could wait.

         PICCOLO

 It had been a few months for him since the day those awful words appeared on his chest, and hated them with all of his might. He could still hear Vegueta´s laughter and the mockery that followed.

 To think that HE, Piccolo Dai Maho Jr., Prince of Darkness, had a soul mate somewhere in this planet, someone meant for him… it was just plain weird, and stupid.

 He had no time for relationships; he had no time to stand a man or a woman that would make him gooey eyes while telling him a lot of romantic bullshit. He did not even felt attraction for anyone.

 A brief image flashed in his mind, of a woman with dark hair and an angry scowl, and he shook his head angrily.

 He had no time for this stupidities.

 Vegueta´s ki approached, and the namek groaned.

 -          So, deep in thought namek? Something interesting in that head of yours.

-          Go fuck someone else Vegueta.

 The saiyan smirked.

 -          Oh be sure that I will, my wife most probably, since fucking you is someone else´s duty. Any idea as to who the poor idiot could be?

 Piccolo growled baring his fangs. But Vegueta did not back up a single step, the stupid smirk still in place.

 -          What. Do. You. Want.?

-          Amusement. A good laugh. To witness your humiliation at the discovery that somewhere in the world will make you droll like a hungry dog in front of a piece of meat. The usual stuff I do while being in this boring planet.

 The namek groaned.

 “Shut up! Just shut up!”

 He HATED those stupid words.

         CHICHI

 The woman slowly woke up and looked around her. She was on her couch, lying ungracefully in front of the stupid bald man friend of her Goku. He was looking at her worriedly.

 She felt dizzy.

 What happened?

 In a flash, everything came back. The knocking, the stupid bald man stuttering, the news of his husband demise, the kidnapping of her son, and then, everything was black…

 Chichi stood up and Krillin fell to the floor like the idiot he was.

 In a moment, Chichi was going out of the house raging and screaming like a banshee. Her son, HER SON HAD BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THAT HORRIBLE DEMON!!

 -          Chichi WAIT!!

-          LET GO, LET GO, LET ME GO YOU IMBECILE, I HAVE TO GO SAVE MY GOHAN!!!

-          CHICHI PLEASE!!

-          LET ME GO NOW!

 Krillin did not even saw the blow coming, all he knew was that now he was in pain lying against the bark of a fallen tree, a tree that when he arrived was in perfect state by the way.

 -          CHICHI, LISTEN!

-          NO YOU LISTEN TO ME, I AM GOING TO SAVE MY SON AND BRING HIM HOME!

 She did not listen to reason. Her husband was gone, and her son was in danger.

 Chichi stopped and fell on her knees. Her Goku was gone… gone… she was a widow… the man she loved, the one that provided with happiness for the last five years…

 Krillin was again in front of her whispering encouragement words, not that she was listening to him in anyway. Chichi covered her face.

 Her husband was gone, and her son was missing… the demon was able to fly and go anywhere in this planet… her son could be ANYWHERE, literally… that if he was still alive.

 And Goku… ohh Goku… her Goku… her soul mate was…

 Chichi put a hand on the back of her waist, and silently started to cry.

         PICCOLO

 -          How does this works anyway?

-          I don´t know what you are talking about namek.

 Piccolo signed, looking at the distance.

 -          This… words. What am I supposed to do about them?

-          I am still surprised you can even read them.

 There was a tone of mockery in Vegueta´s voice, and he decided to ignore it. He had heard enough about him being an analphabet when they first appeared. It didn´t matter that he explained to the tick headed prince that he was in fact, also royalty and he had three sets of memories, hundreds of years of wisdom and spoke every language on Earth… Vegueta still thought he was an imbecile.

 -          Vegueta, be serious for a second. What do I do with these stupid words?

-          What makes you think I have a clue? Watch them, photograph them, and burn them. I don´t care what you do. Is not like you can go see every being in the planet and talk to them. With the things that your chest says, likely every person who listens to you will end up saying your soul mate´s words.

-          Ha ha and bloody ha.

 The saiyan shook his head. It was enough for a joke.

 -          You cannot do anything namek. You know what a pain in the ass they were when mine appeared? I had not a fucking clue, and no one else I knew had them. It´s an Earth thing, so the one thing you know is that your soulmate is a human. That´s it. They are just there, and you are fucked because of them. You cannot avoid them. One day, someone will say them, and you will say something back, you both will recognize it and everything will be awkward, because you are a giant green bean, and he or she will be some stupid human who will know nothing about how to deal with someone like you.

 Piccolo remained silent. His mind racing. He knew a lot of things, thousands of things, but this?

 This was something he never cared neither needed. Kami did not have soul words, Nail neither, which was to be expected since he was from a planet where THIS did not exist.

 -          Is it unavoidable?

 Vegueta did not answer, apparently thinking about the answer. The tilted his head to the side. Piccolo smirked and decided not to tell him that he needed to tilt his head so that his neurons could make contact. He needed answers, and the saiyan might get a little bit angry and not answer at all if he heard that.

 -          It can be avoided… sometimes fate is twisted by some weird events.

-          And how the hell do I do that?

-          Dying.

 Piccolo turned around and looked at the saiyan, who just made a non-committal noise.

 -          When the soul mate dies, the other one feels it, and the words are erased. Don´t ask why, I don´t have a fucking clue and seriously, I don´t give a damn.

         CHICHI

 Her eyes were glued to her lower back.

 “It is not my fault I love you!”

 There they were, as clear as day, as beautiful as ever… her soul mate´s words… the ones that were supposed to disappear when her beloved died.

 Goku had died, and still, the words remained.

 The bedroom was a mess, books and books all about the same topic scattered and almost torn to pieces. All of them agreed on the same. When the soul mate dies, the words disappear.

 Chichi sat on her bed, not caring that she was naked from the waist up.

 Goku was not her soul mate.

         PICCOLO

 The namek looked at his pupil while he was sitting on a stone, his eyes on the book in his hands. Piccolo rolled his eyes and stepped closer to his pupil.

 He saw him scratching the skin behind his neck.

 Gohan was almost sixteen years old. More than an adult in saiyan terms. He was of age to receive a certain gift from fate. Piccolo smiled and absently touched his chest, pressing the patch of skin the grew over his own words.

 He had tried everything, he had burned them, he had torn apart the skin, and he tried to blast them off… but they always came back. So, he grew a second skin. It felt weird, and itchy, but made its work to conceal his little secret…

 Or at least one of them.

 His eyes wandered to the house, where a light gray smoke was coming out the chimney, and from the inside, the voice of Goten running around made him clearly aware that it was bath time, and the little rascal was not interested in being clean.

 Somewhere inside the house, Chichi was trying to convince her son of “making it easy for mommy”.

 Piccolo clutched his fists and looked away. Because destiny was a bitch. A bitch that made him… aware of Chichi´s presence. A bitch that marked him like a bloody cow. A bitch that decided that his perfect match was someone that was somewhere in the blasted planet, probably waiting for him, unaware that he had absolutely no interest in meeting them…

 Because destiny was a bitch and Chichi… Chichi had no soul mate words. He knew that, she heard her telling Bulma about it... Even by a long shot, she was not his match.

[in-tua-deep]

Thinking some more about the sort of training that the siblings would have gone through,,, Going to put this under a read more since it’s gon get LONG

LUTHER: Luther is deceptively the easiest one with the simplest and more straightforward power in my opinion? His powers are super strength and durability. So of course there would be general strength training, weights, etc. But endurance would have been a fucker. Having Luther hold massive weights for long periods of time until Luther physically couldn’t anymore. You can’t tell me that old Reggie would have been a good spotter, especially for the sort of weights Luther would have been on, so either Grace is stronger than she looks and helped out (possible) or Reggie just had Luther train without a spotter (depressingly likely). How often did Luther get hurt during his straining? Strain muscles? Drop weight or other objects on himself when he couldn’t hold it up anymore under the disappointed eyes of his father? Of course, I’m sure there would be shotput esque training. Luther hurls a bad guy out of a bank window, after all. He’s no Diego but I’m sure Reggie would have thrown in some throwing accuracy training for efficiency. And of course his power of durability - which I am actually afraid to theorize about? Are his bones more durable? I’m going to have to assume his muscles and bones are more durable due to the weights and shit he’s capable of lifting. Does he bruise? What sort of force is required to injure him? These are questions I am sure Reginald Hargreeves has written somewhere in that notebook of his but I am afraid to know how he found them out. DIEGO: Diego obviously has the power to throw things with incredible accuracy, curving them mid air and capable of manipulating their path. I’ve seen some things floating around regarding him being forced to practice with someone, usually Grace, as the target and having to throw the knives as close to her as possible. Which is, of course, unbelievably shitty considering how much Diego obviously cares for Grace. His training would probably also involve strength training? Though not to the same extent of Luther. But logically the stronger he is the more force he can put behind an object and the larger an object he would be able to throw to manipulate.  I can also see Diego having to do it blindfolded, having to rely on his memory of a room to throw knives at targets and having to do that repeatedly until he could bullseye every one to Reginald’s satisfaction. This would help him out in situations like when Luther was in his room and he tossed a knife through the crack in the door, relying on his memory of the room’s obstacles to curve the knives around to (almost) hit his brother. Also testing the general extent of his ability? Does he have to put the motion behind the knife himself in order to manipulate it (a la throwing) or would be be able to, say, drop a knife off a building where it isn’t him but gravity exerting the force on it?  I know in the comics(?) Diego has the ability to hold his breath pretty much forever but honestly the idea of Reginald Hargreeves testing and training that is really depressing for me and all I can think is him putting Diego in a water tank like he’s a glorified aquarium pet and then I get mad. ALLISON: Oh man, Allison’s power would be rough to train because it’s more about figuring out the limits of it than it is about training it to get stronger. On a related note, how did they even find out about her power which has a specific set of trigger words? Were they all just being little kids and teasing each other and it just happened? What was her first rumor? Okay anyway. SO because I think Reginald would have absolutely and expressly forbidden Allison from rumoring him (and I dread to think about what must have been the one time it did happen, because you know kids and pushing boundaries), I think Reginald either a) brought in strangers to have Allison use her powers on/took Allison out to have her use her powers (the former more likely bc controlled environment, at least at first) or b) have her test her powers on her siblings (depressingly likely). Personally I think both happened, I think she probably started out rumoring her siblings (it would have been fun at first, a game, like Simon Says) making one of the others do jumping jacks or dance. Then mood altering things (I heard a rumor you’re really happy today! I heard a rumor you think Klaus’s prank is stupid. I heard a rumor you want to play with me!) where she starts changing opinions and Reginald wants to see how long they last for, if she rumors for someone to forget something, will they ever be able to recover the memory? Do her powers have a time limit? Then, of course, she rumors Vanya into thinking she’s ordinary. Then I think for Actually Dangerous Things Reginald wouldn’t have wanted to damage the goods, so to speak, and would have started importing people for Allison to rumor. I feel like Reggie is That kind of asshole, so they were probably people no one would miss. Addicts, homeless people, criminals, etc. And then he’d have Allison rumor them to do things. He’d want to test to see if basic human survival instinct would overrule Allison’s rumors, right? Or maybe rumoring someone into doing something they’re so against they reject Allison’s rumors? Violence is something she was clearly comfortable of using her rumors for as a child. The first time we see her as a kid use her powers in the bank robbery, she smiles and tells the guy to shoot his friend in the foot. She doesn’t even blink at hurting someone, or using someone as a vehicle to hurt someone. And then in general, testing whether she would have to be face to face with someone to rumor them. Can she rumor people over intercoms? Over the phone? If she had a megaphone, would she be able to project her voice further to affect someone who wouldn’t be able to hear her without it? Can she rumor deaf individuals? If someone can’t understand the rumor (language barrier) will it still work? If someone is blocking out her voice with noise cancelling headphones, would it still work? Can Allison rumor people in other languages? If so, would sign language fall under that? I have a Lot of Questions, hello. KLAUS: My poor boy, my son. Okay, so clearly his ability is speaking with the dead and summoning spirits which really makes me question why the fuck Klaus was out running about on missions when his powers aren’t very offensively capable (barring when he manifests Ben to help out, which he Very Much Could Not Do when Ben was alive and kicking or literally anytime before that moment). Like, what the fuck Reggie? Was he the eternal lookout? Anyway, from what we can see in the show, Reggie’s focus seemed to be for Klaus to get over his fear of ghosts in order to access his abilities more. To be fair, Klaus’s power is a fucking difficult one to train for anyone without the powers. Klaus could deny until the cows come home that any spirits were present without Reggie being any the wiser, even if there were actually spirits present. Which is probably why fucking Reggie ended up tossing Klaus into the mausoleum and locking him in there, because he assumed that spirits would manifest in there for Klaus to see since it’s a house of the dead. Who let this man have children, again? Because surprise surprise, tossing children in with their greatest fear without any assistance or help and expecting them to get over it in fact traumatizes them even more! Before that though I think Reginald would take Klaus places and demand he commune with the dead and relay information to him. Or specifically take Klaus to like, a grave or something and try and make him purposefully conjure up a specific spirit idk. It probably wouldn’t work too well since, you know, Klaus is scared of the dead, but Reggie wouldn’t have cared. Hey, maybe he asked Klaus to summon up the people Allison presumably killed either via rumoring them to kill themself or rumoring someone else to kill them, two training with one stone amiright. Yeah, fuck Reginald Hargreeves for fucking up my son so badly. I wonder how many times Klaus fed him absolute bullshit answers or looking up murder stories and pretended to summon their victims and gave Reggie details that could be backed up just to get the old man off his back FIVE: Okay I have a lot of feelings about Five’s training bc,, he’s my fav sorry not sorry. First of all: his jumps. How far he can go, how many jumps he can make, whether distance is also a factor with how many jumps he can make (can he make fewer jumps if he increases the distance he is jumping). I definitely imagine that Reginald ordered Five to chain jump until he couldn’t anymore, and then tried to get Five to push through the block to jump even more. Did Five have set limits, or would training actually increase his spatial jump stamina? I also discussed in a fic about Five’s limits regarding movement and jumping. I think that ‘spatial jumps’ implies movement, and so if Five was immobilized and tied down I don’t think he’d be able to use his jumps to escape. Though if, say, it was just his hands tied together I think he’d still be able to move forward and jump he’d just take the restraints with him tbh. So I think as training, Reginald would probably try and figure out the limits of what conditions Five would be able to jump in. Can Five jump spatially in materials other than air? Aka, would Five be able to jump if he was in a body of water? Can he jump INTO objects other than air such as water? I’m assuming he has something that prevents him from jumping into solid objects and splicing himself (god or at least I hope he does) but would that extend to liquids etc.? Then I believe he was also trained in precision micro-jumps. Essentially, when having an object thrown at him he would be able to jump just a little bit to the side or in front of the object to avoid it hitting him without jumping across the room or something. Handy in tight quarters. In a fic I theorized that Reginald would essentially swing a cane at him to have Five jump to the other side of the cane before it hit him, and I stand by that. Then in general other testing, what can Five bring with him when he spatially jumps? What is the limitation of his ability? The size of an object? The mass? Composition? Five’s clothes clearly travel with him, but the only time we see him attempt to take a person with him that I can remember is when he tries to time travel with them, not spatially jump. Was he tested with animals before an attempt to jump with a human occurred? Could he jump with say, a hamster in his pocket? Does he have to be aware of what he’s taking with him or if something was slipping in his pocket would it travel with? Does he have to know where he’s jumping in order to do it? Does not knowing risk him splicing with a solid object? Would be be able to jump from a locked room into an unfamiliar second room, without seeing what or who might be inside? I have QUESTIONS. BEN: I feel like Ben’s power would just be straight up difficult to train tbh. Work on those core muscles man, get a regiment going. It caNNOT be easy to keep upright with a bunch of flailing tentacles coming from your person, I can barely keep my balance when one (1) small child attempts to climb my person. That shit has to be HEAVY unless there’s somehow no weight due to being otherworldly or something idk. They seem solid enough when they’re stabbing people, so I’m going to assume they have some heft to them. Ben must have abs of steel and the balance of the literal fae god damn.  So yeah I figure the only way to train that is?? To just do it? In a closed environment? Maybe getting rid of some of the people from Allison’s training? Try and control the other dimensional tentacles Ben and kill these people in a specific order or something! If you can order them to pick up that couch and throw it across the room then you get a treat! Literally I do not know. Presumably it is a very difficult power to control at least at first since Ben goes in a separate room to kill those bank guys without any of his siblings following him. They just wait until he’s done. Then as he trains he gets some more control until he dies? Bc he doesn’t kill any of his siblings at the theater there’s that, though idk if that’s because he’s dead or what - can Klaus aim Ben’s powers at people? Can he make Ben only corporeal to the bad guys to kill them and make him just go through the rest of them? But yeah idk how Ben trains smh VANYA: we see the tuning fork thing in the show, which presumably was pretty much the only training Reggie really managed to think of for Vanya to control her powers? I don’t know when their powers manifested but I’m assuming he didn’t know what they were from birth or anything. Allison’s at the very least requires speech. Diego’s requires throwing things which I’m pretty sure is a developmental milestone, being able to throw things. Can you even imagine a teleporting baby? Fucking anarchy for those poor nannies. So I’m choosing to assume they didn’t get their powers until they were at the very least toddlers with the vague ability to reason with them, because can you fucking IMAGINE Vanya weaponizing crying baby screams?? Grace would have been created a whole lot earlier lemme tell you that. Overall after he makes Allison fuck her up, Vanya seems to participate in training as an observer and recorder. He seems to care about her intellectual prowess at least and?? I don’t know, maybe was trying to fashion her into a sort of handler/trainer for the rest of her siblings? Maybe he gave her some of his data on the other siblings’ training to analyze. Maybe that’s what they were so angry about being in the book, idk. At least she had her violin as an escape amiright. That’s all I got for now lads, I haven’t read the comics or even looked at them so you know, I have no idea what that’s about, and I referenced exactly nothing besides the Wikipedia page idk how accurate that is so if there’s an answer to one of these questions hmu!!

[tallglassofsweetpea]

Little Darlin’: Chapter Five

Sweet Pea x OC, 1950′s AU

Warnings (this chapter): language, angst, mild sexual content, underage drinking, think that’s it for this chapter??

AN: I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD! Thank you all for be patient over the past few weeks. I was having some serious writer’s block during the holidays, but I’m back and ready to get back into it. I’m already working on Chapter Six and will hopefully have that put up soon as well. I’ll also be working on some of the requests you guys have sent me! I hope you enjoy the new chapter! :)

(Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future chapters. Also feel free to message me if you have any suggestions for this story and where you’d like to see it go, or if you have any general comments/questions! My ask is open :) Also I am taking requests!!!)

Chapter Five: Tears On My Pillow

Summer quickly faded into the fall and school was in full swing. Lily was somewhat thankful for the start of the new school year. She had plenty of things to occupy her time, there was homework to be completed and tests to be taken. Although, her mind would often wander to thoughts that weren’t exactly school related, like Sweet Pea. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since the night of their date to the drive in. She figured he was just busy with the Serpents, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed that he hadn’t so much as called.

Trish was over, getting ready to go see Fangs, it was the first she had seen of her in awhile.

“I take it everything worked out between you two? He seemed really upset that night at the drive in.”

“We talked.”

“…and?”

“And…He told me he loved me.” I guess he had listened to Sweet Pea’s advice after all.

“Did you say it back…?”

“I did.” Trish broke into a bright smile.

“That’s fantastic, Trish! So, what about Archie?”

Her face immediately dropped. “What about Archie?”

“Oh, Trish you can’t be serious…You can’t keep seeing them both. Someone’s going to end up hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing, Lily.”

Lily took a deep breath and chose her words carefully. “Are you afraid of what Archie might do if you call it off with him?”

Trish scoffed, an unconvincing look of confidence on her face. “He won’t do anything to me.”

“Trish I’ve seen what he’s done when he merely thought that you were-“

“Lily, drop this. And stop frowning, you’ll get premature wrinkles.”

Lily sighed at her.

“I’ll be fine, I’m a big girl. I just need a few more weeks until Archie messes up again and then I’ll be free.”

“…You’re waiting for him to cheat on you so you can break up with him?”

“Sure! That way there’s no blame put on me, and he can’t get upset with me because it will be his own fault. It’s fool proof!”

“Trish. You can’t be serious…”

“Don’t patronize me, I’m a woman with a plan. She said decidedly. “Speaking of plans, Fangs and I are going to some party by Sweetwater River tonight. You should come! I presume Sweet Pea has already invited you-”

She felt her heart sink a little bit. “Actually no.”

“No?”

“I haven’t seen him since our that night at the drive in. He hasn’t so much as called.”

“Did the date not go well?”

“I had thought it was great. We went to Pop’s, we watched the movie at the drive in, we kissed…”

“Which led to…”

“Trish!”

“Oh come on, how can you possibly resist him? He’s got that dangerous look in his eye. Talk of the town is that he’s very gratifying. Hell, if I hadn’t met Fangs-“

“Sweet Pea is…very attractive. But he’s far more experienced than I am, which he said he understood but I just don’t want to make a fool of myself. Not that it matters anymore. He has clearly lost interest.”

“Well we won’t have that, will we?”

“Its fine, Trish. I don’t know what I expected.”

“It is totally not fine, Lily.”

“I’m just not the type of girl that guy’s like Sweet Pea go after.”

“But he did go after you…”

“Yeah, and then suddenly ran for the nearest exit sign!”

“He’s probably just nervous.”

“You know, Trish. He doesn’t really seem like the type of guy that gets “nervous.”

“Oh come on Lily. He’s just a guy. A guy that to the best of my knowledge has never pursued anything beyond hookups. Sweet Pea probably has no idea what he’s supposed to be doing.”

“You may be right, but that’s not an excuse to completely fall off the map for weeks with no explanation. I feel so stupid! I never should have let my guard down.”

Trish’s eyes softened, she pulled Lily into a tight hug. “If you want, I can always tell Fangs we’re just gonna have a girls night in. My poor Lily-pad is having her first heartbreak.”

“No, it’s okay. I want you to go have fun, I don’t mean to bring you down. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, well I hate to leave you in such a state but Fangs should be here soon.” She walked over to the window, propping it open.

Lily lay back on her bed, taking a deep breath. Another night alone, moping around her room. Her mind would often drift to the few nights she had gotten to see Sweet Pea. She missed the way his lips would curl up into a smirk, and the way he caressed her skin. Gosh. She hadn’t even known this guy for that long, so why was this eating her alive? How much longer could she possibly sit around and do this?

“You know what, Trish? I changed my mind, I’m coming with you guys.”

**

Lily had never been to Sweetwater Forest at night. Her father warned her of the “hoodlums and sinners” from the Southside that were out hiding in the woods preying on the innocent. From the sound of it, you’d think there were sacrificial rituals being performed out there. In reality, it was just a hangout for the young Serpents where they would drink and socialize around a bonfire. Lily followed Fangs and Trish through a discreet trail tucked away in the woods. The trees towered over their heads, umbrellas of brightly covered leaves indicating the shift into autumn. Lily could barely make out the bright flames through the trees as they came closer to the party. Serpents gathered around the fire, some sitting on the chopped down tree trunks while others leaned against the trees that still stood.

Fangs and Trish greeted some of his buddies that stood by the fire. Lily scanned the area surrounding the fire, no sign of Sweet Pea. Perhaps he actually was busy. She felt a slight sense of relief, at least he hadn’t just been avoiding her. She found an empty spot on one of the fallen trees surrounding the fire, took out her handkerchief from her purse and lay it down before taking a seat. The young Serpent that was sitting next to her laughed. “Can’t say I’ve seen you around before.” Lily turned to him, he was a good looking young man with short brown hair. “I’m not usually around.”

He looked her up and down. “Never would have guessed.” He joked. He reached down beside him and offered Lily a bottle of beer. “Care to indulge?”

Lily waited a beat. “No thank you…sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

The Serpent offered her a smile. “Slash.”

“Right, Slash. You all seem to have such unique names… I’m Lily.”

“Nice to meet you. Dare I ask what brings you around here? No offense, but you seem out of place.”

“Well, actually I came looking for-“ Lily lost her train of thought at the sight of Sweet Pea stumbling out of the darkness of the forest. He was laughing with his arm around the waist of some dark haired girl. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart sank into her stomach.

She made eye contact with Sweet Pea as he approached the fire. His eyes softened, while hers hardened.

“Lily?”

Lily rose from the stump she was sitting on with Slash and stood with her arms crossed.

“Looks like you’re really busy. I guess this explains why I haven’t heard from you.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Lily. Including Fangs and Trish who was shaking her head at Sweet Pea.

“Oh come on, Lily don’t have a cow.”

“Don’t have a cow? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks with no explanation Sweet Pea!”

The dark haired girl hanging off of Sweet Pea laughed. “Looks like little miss goody two shoes is having a temper tantrum.”

Lily turned to the girl and threw a punch, sending her back. Lily’s eyes widened when the girl bounced right back up and lunged after her, Slash jumped up and grabbed the girl by her arms. “Lily, I would run if I were you.” Lily looked at Sweet Pea one last time before booking it into the woods. She ran as fast as she could out of the woods and into the parking lot. She leaned against the closest car she could find, trying to catch her breath. She heard some rustling from the woods and her head shot up in fear. She knew if that girl was coming after her she didn’t have enough energy to run away.

Luckily, it was just Trish and Fangs.

“Lil’ are you alright?”

“I’m fine, can we just please go?”

Lily walked over to Fangs’ car and opened the door to the backseat.

Trish and Fangs shared a look.

“Trish do we have to go? We just got here..” Fangs whined.

Trish sighed and shot him a look.

Fangs groaned. “Okay, fine.”

The car ride was completely silent, save for the radio.

Lily watched the pine trees zoom by as they sped down the road. She felt defeated. She fiddled with her necklace. The one time she let her guard down, the one time she believed someone really liked her. She tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. She felt a cool tear roll down her cheek, followed by another. Silently she let the tears fall down her face. She felt so naive. To think that a guy like him would actually want to be with a boring northsider like her.

“Lily?” Fangs glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Lily looked up.

“Nice punch.” He said, smiling. Lily forced a small smile through her tears.

**

As the days passed by, Lily did her best to keep herself busy. When she wasn’t in school or working on homework, she was at dance class. When she wasn’t at dance class, she was at bible study . Life seemed to have resumed it’s normalcy.

A few weeks passed, it was late September.

Lily sat down in her seat for chemistry class, her usual lab partner had been out with the flu all week. Mr. Beaker presented the weekly project to the class.

“Lily, since your usual lab partner, Mr. Doily is absent today I’m going to pair you up with Reggie who also doesn’t have a partner.”

She nodded her head and glanced over at Reggie, who was on his way over to take the seat next to hers. He had a cast on his left arm with various signatures and doodles from his friends.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Lily gave him a polite smile. “So, I figured we could split up the reading, we could both take notes and then compare once we’re done.

Reggie chuckled. “Well that sounds like a great idea, but unfortunately I’m left handed.” He lifted up his casted arm.”

“Oh-uh. I’m sorry. I guess that won’t work after all.”

“That’s quite alright.”

“I guess I will be the notetaker.” Lily and reggie both flipped open their books looking for the right page.

Lily glanced over at his arm. “So…how did that happen to you anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Sprained it during a game. I’m hoping it’ll be healed in time for the homecoming game next week.”

“Oh right, I forgot that’s coming up soon. Well I hope everything heals up in time. From what I hear, you do the team fine.”

“I do what I can. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you at a game. I think I would’ve noticed a cute girl like yourself.” Reggie smiled at her.

Lily felt the heat rush to her cheeks, a smile threatening the corners of her mouth.

Mr. Beaker stopped by their table and cleared his throat. “I assume this chatter is related to the assignment.”

“Of course, Mr. Beaker.”

Lily went back to reading the assigned chapter, but Reggie’s gaze lingered on her. He leaned in and lowered his voice, not wanting to get scolded again.

“Hey, uh…if you’re free after school today, would you want to grab something to eat at Pop’s?”

Lily looked up from her book to see a smiling Reggie. He was very cute, and she did have some time between school and dance.

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and returned the smile. “Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

**

Once the school day ended, Lily met Reggie in the parking lot and they headed over to Pop’s. They found a booth and placed their orders  talked. The conversation was light, mainly small talk about school and sports. She had at first assumed he was just like the rest of the buffoons on the football team, but it turned out that he was very nice guy.

“So are you planning on going to the homecoming dance?”

Lily took a sip of her vanilla shake. “Oh, I don’t know. I signed up to help decorate but..”

“I think you should go, it’s gonna be a blast.”

“I don’t know, I don’t have a date.”

Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll be your date.”

Lily nearly choked on her milkshake. “Y-You want to go with me?”

“Sure, I haven’t got a date. I think we’d have a good time.” Lily was entirely thrown off guard.

“I-uh…”

The bells on the front door jingled, in walked a group of leather-clad young men, led by Sweet Pea. She sunk a little in her seat, her eyes shifting around the room. She watched them pile into a corner booth on the opposite side of the restaurant. Sweet Pea’s dark eyes locked with hers.

“So whaddya say?” Her eyes snapped back to Reggie.

Sweet Pea was watching her, she could feel his eyes on her. She couldn’t let him know he made her nervous. She could hear Trish’s voice in her head. Make him realize what he’s missing. She reached across the table and placed her hand gently over Reggie’s and gave him a flirtatious grin.

“I think that would be lovely, Reggie.”

“Great, I’ll buy our tickets tomorrow!”

In the corner of her eye, she could see Sweet Pea’s eyes narrow and his jaw clench before he looked away from their table.

Lily: 1 Sweet Pea: 0.

“Hey Reggie, would you mind lending me some money for the jukebox?”

“Not at all, doll.” He reached into his pocket and dished out some coins to hand to Lily.

She smiled and thanked him then sauntered over to the jukebox located on the opposite side of Pop’s. She had taken a few more notes from Trish’s book and swayed her hips as she made her way through the restaurant, making a point of flipping her hair as she walked by the table of Serpents silencing the table as she passed by and rounded the corner to the jukebox. She began to shuffle through the songs when she felt someone move next to her.

“Hey blondie.”

Lily didn’t look up, she just kept flipping through the music library.

Sweet Pea sighed. “So are you ignoring me now?”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t feel very good, does it?”

“Look, I’m sorry. If you let me explain-“

“Any idea as to what Reggie might like to hear?” Lily looked up to him with a forced look of curiosity on her face.

Sweet Pea couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her. “Okay Lily, you can quit the theatrical bit. You got my attention.”

“Theatrical bit?”

“I mean, you can’t seriously be interested in that meat head.” Sweet Pea nudged his thumb over to where Reggie sat eating his fries. “And the way you walked by me-”

“He’s actually quite lovely if you give him a chance, there’s more to him than meets the eye.” She had once thought the same to be true of Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea looked at her, dumbfounded. “Mantle? Reggie Mantle? The guy eats rocks.” He scoffed.

“And what makes you so special?”

Sweet Pea’s shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I don’t know. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t too long ago that you saw something in me that you liked.”

Lily threw some change into the jukebox and selected a song, “You Don’t Own Me” by Lesley Gore, before turning to look Sweet Pea in the eye. She hated how no matter how anger she felt toward him, the second she looked into his chocolate brown eyes, her heart would melt. A smirk crept up on Sweet Pea’s lips. Lily looked down to the floor and cleared her throat. “Well, I’m starting to think maybe I was blind. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a date to get back to. Goodbye, Sweet Pea.” She rushed by him before he could respond.

Sweet Pea let out a sigh and watched her blonde curls bounce with every step she took back to her booth. He shook his head. Why couldn’t he just let her go?

**

It was the week of the big homecoming game and dance. Lily and Reggie had been hanging out more often, they would usually go to Pop’s to grab a bite to eat and work on homework together. Lily thought Reggie was a very charming young man, he was handsome and a real gentleman. When Lily told her mother that she had a date to the homecoming dance, she was thrilled. She drove them right down to the town center to pick out the perfect dress. They settled on a pale pink tea length tulle dress with a satin sash across the waist that tied into a neat bow in the back. Her mother was of course far from fond of the strapless bodice and insisted she wear a sash to cover her shoulders. “We want you looking like a decent girl, unlike that redheaded girl you spend too much time with. She’s far too fast for that age.”

Trish was also ecstatic that Lily had found a date, she had their entire night planned out not even two minutes minutes after she told her on the phone.

“Okay, so first we have to go to the game to cheer on the boys. Then we have got to get our hair done together, I know just the place! Oh my goodness, Lil’ this is truly going to be a night to remember!” She really was happy to go. She liked Reggie, and it seemed like he liked her too. But there was something in the back of her mind that made it difficult to feel the full excitement Trish felt.

Suddenly, Lily heard a rapping at her window, she rose from her mountain of frills and walked to her window, stretching the coiled phone cord across the room. She pulled back her curtains and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Sweet Pea on the other side of the glass.

“Trish, I’ll call you back later. I’ve got to help my mom with something.”

“Oh okay, well-“

Lily hung up the phone and went to open the window with wide eyes, and stepped back so the tall Serpent could enter. He somehow managed to fit his large frame through her window and stood against the wall.

At first she was infuriated, how dare he show up like this in the middle of the night.

“Sweet Pea, what on earth are you-“ Lily examined his appearance, he looked like hell. His forehead had a large gash on his brow, and he had a nasty black eye. She came closer to him, pulling his face down into her soft hands, examining the damage.

“What happened to you?”

“I was out running some errands with Fangs when these psycho Bulldogs came out of nowhere, tried to start shit with Fangs. So we got into it and then some kid came out with a gun, we had to get out of there. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Was Archie there?”

Sweet Pea scoffed. “Andrews? Please. He’s too much of a candy ass to fight his own battles.”

He reached up to slick back his hair. “Fucking Bulldogs.” She wanted to ask if Reggie was there or not but then she noticed the gashes on his hands.

“Oh my goh! Look at your hands.” She gently took his fist in her hands, the knuckles were cut and swollen. “Let’s get you into the bathroom, you don’t want this to swell anymore or to get infected.”

“Princess, you don’t have to do that. I’ve survived a lot worse. You should see what the other guys look like.”

“Well I might not survive my mother if you get blood on this carpet.” She led him over to her private bathroom that branched off of her bedroom and instructed him to sit on the edge of the pink bathtub.

“I know I’ve got a first aid kit in here somewhere.” Sweet Pea watched Lily walk over to the bathroom closet and begin rummaging through it’s contents. He looked around the small bathroom, everything was pink and covered in frills and flowers just like her bedroom.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go around here…and I’m real sorry I didn’t reach out to you before, I’d been dealing with a lot of-“

Lily poked her head out of the closet to look at him. “Serpent stuff? Otherwise known as you busy with your tongue down that girl’s throat? And lord knows where else…” She mumbled the last part.

Sweet Pea raised an eyebrow at her choice of words and shook his head. “I wasn’t doing anything with her, we were just hanging out.”

Lily gave him a pointed look. “With your arm around her?”

Sweet Pea sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I was avoiding you. I just-“

“You just what?”

Lily went over to kneel between Sweet Pea’s legs with a first aid kit in her hands. She took out some rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs, and bandage wrap.

“I just got…scared?”

“You were avoiding me because you were scared?”

“I know it sounds lame, but…I’ve just never liked a girl as much as I like you.”

Lily dabbed some rubbing alcohol on one of the cotton swabs. “You could have called.”

“Yeah, well the phone works both ways toots.” Her eyes narrowed, she took the swab dipped in rubbing alcohol and ran it across his knuckles.

Sweet Pea winced at the sting. “God. You’re on a mean streak, blondie.”

“I don’t like to be made a fool of, Sweet Pea.” She set the cotton swab aside and began to bandage his fingers.

“I’ve gotta say, watching you knock out that girl at the bonfire was pretty hot.” He smirked.

A blush rose to her cheeks as she tightly wrapped the bandage around his fingers.

“There, you’re all fixed up.” She sat back with her legs tucked beneath her and started to put her things back into the tin box of the first aid kit. Sweet Pea looked down at her, she wore no makeup and her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. Lily sat there a second, looking into his dusky eyes before sitting up and bringing her lips closer to his, her eyes fluttered closed. Sweet Pea met her the rest of the way and captured her lips between his. He held her there like that for a moment before he pulled away, tucking a stray blonde curl hair behind her ear.

“You really hurt me, Sweet Pea. I thought that you liked me.”

“I’m sorry. I do like you.”

“…But?”

“I mean, come on. Me and you? We couldn’t be more different. I’m just some greaser from the wrong side of the tracks. But you’re this sweet, beautiful girl from the Northside. I mean seriously, you’re like an angel.”

Lily fiddled around with her necklace as she listened.

“I guess I just felt like you were too good for a guy like me. Figured it’d be best if I left you alone, let it fade out.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone. And all of this Northside/Southside stuff? It doesn’t matter to me. I-I just want to be with you.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes softened, he swallowed hard. “And I guess I kind of messed that up, didn’t I?”

Lily paused, then shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t say that…”

His face lit up almost instantly. “So does that mean you’re gonna give me a second chance?”

Lily tried to keep her composure, but the corners of her mouth kept threatening to lift into a grin. “Maybe I am.”

Sweet Pea’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.” Sweet Pea leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips.

Lily couldn’t fight the blush that rushed to her cheeks. “Alright, now that I’ve got you fixed up, you should probably go. It’s getting late and I have school tomorrow.”

“Well, uh. That’s the thing…”

“What?”

“I have a feeling those creeps are still out there looking for me…Do you mind if I stay here tonight?”

Lily instantly shook her head at the suggestion.

“Noooooo way, my father would have a cow if he knew I had a boy in here. Never mind a Serpent!”

“Oh come on, Lily. I’ll be gone before the sun rises. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you really gonna send me out there with a gun wielding maniac on the loose? That’s not very Christian of you.” He joked.

Lily shot him a glare. “Okay fine, you can stay here. But you cannot make a sound. My parents would have me sent to a convent if they knew about this.”

“I owe you big time. Hell I’ll even sleep right here in the bathtub.”

“You don’t need to sleep in the bathtub, you can have my bed.”

Lily got up off the floor and headed into her room where Sweet Pea followed. Lily locked the door and leaned up against it, gesturing to her mattress.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve done more than enough for me already. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Trust me darlin’, I’ve slept on a lot worse.”

Sweet Pea stood in the middle of her room, taking in his surroundings. Lily found it both amusing and incredibly cute seeing the tall, dark serpent standing in a sea of pink flowers and ruffles. How on earth did this happen? Lily chewed on her lip.

“At least let me put down some blankets and pillows for you.” Sweet Pea glanced back at her and shrugged before he returned to his examination of Lily’s bedroom. She walked over to her closet and pulled out some extra blankets and pillows for him to use.

“I would offer you some clothes to sleep in, but something tells me we’re not the same size.”

Sweet Pea shrugged off his jacket and as he continued examining the room. He tossed it onto the pink velvet chair that was in front of the window.

“That’s alright, I’ll make due.” He walked by her shelf of Dance awards and trophies. He looked back at her, she was now sitting on her bed.

Lily shrugged. “I’ve done my fair share of competitions.”

“I guess so, huh?”

Next to the shelf, Lily’s homecoming dress hung from a coat hook in the wall. Sweet Pea reached out and fingered the fabric.

“What’s this for?”

Lily’s heart sank. Reggie. “That’s my dress for the homecoming dance.”

Sweet Pea looked at her. “Homecoming dance?”

She nodded her head. “It’s this Saturday.”

Sweet Pea snorted.“Let me guess, Mantle asked you to go with him?”

“…yes.”

He shook his head. “I don’t trust that guy.”

Lily sighed. “He’s really nice to me.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t trust him.” Sweet Pea started to make his bed on the floor.

Lily crossed her arms. “I think you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Don’t make me laugh, Lily. Guys like that aren’t just “nice” for the hell of it. He’s after something.”

“Reggie isn’t like that. He’s never been anything shy of a gentleman with me.”

“If he starts to get too handsy, you let me know.”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

Sweet Pea sat down on his makeshift bed, untied his boots and tossed them to the side. Lily watched as he reached back and pulled off his white tee in one swift motion, baring his strong chest.

“You’re catching flies, sugar.”

I can’t believe this is happening right now. She opened the drawer of her bedside table and took out her rosary beads and slid off the bed and onto her knees. It wasn’t every day that Lily had a half naked gang member in her bedroom. The least she could do was pray for forgiveness.

Sweet Pea knew the bulldogs most likely weren’t out looking for him anymore, he had just wanted to buy some more time with her. He watched her as she kneeled down to pray, she wore a white satin button down pajama top with a matching set of shorts that slid up a little higher when she sat with her legs tucked beneath her. She really looked like an angel, with her golden locks pulled back behind her shoulders. Tonight he was going to have to practice some serious self control, which was always a challenge with her around.

Lily quickly said her prayers before turning off the lamp on her bedside table and getting under the covers. She quietly whispered “Goodnight, Sweet Pea.”

“Sweet dreams.”

She closed her eyes in hopes she would fall asleep. She could hear Sweet Pea rustling on the floor. Once she thought he was settled in and comfortable, he would shift again. She let out a sigh.

“Is everything alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just having a tough time getting comfortable.”

Lily squeezed her eyes shut, she couldn’t believe the words that were about to escape her lips.

“If you want, you can sleep with me.”

Sweet Pea paused for a beat.

“I-I mean, you can sleep in my bed.”

Sweet Pea clicked his tongue. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah, it’s no big deal.”

She moved over to one side of her full sized bed, making room for Sweet Pea.

She felt the mattress shift when Sweet Pea got into her bed. She closed her eyes again, trying to relax herself, but her heart was beating like crazy.

“I don’t think the good pastor would approve of this sleeping arrangement.”

“Goodnight, Sweet Pea.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. She could feel him breathing behind her, it sent small tingles up and down her spine. She felt the warmth of his body press against hers. She felt his arm drape over her waist. They lay like that for a few moments. Lily opened her eyes when she felt Sweet Pea’s lips dance along the side of her neck until her breathing became a bit heavy. He brought his hand up to her jaw, tipping her head back and kissing up her throat. Her body pushed back against his involuntarily, earning a small groan from Sweet Pea. He turned her face to him, her emerald eyes opened. God, he looked so irresistible. Sweet Pea leaned down to capture her lips between his, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. Lily sighed into the kiss. She had missed the way his full lips felt as they moved against hers. She felt his tongue glide over her bottom lip, she opened her mouth slightly, letting her tongue gently caress and tangle with his. Lily softly moaned. Sweet Pea’s heart dropped at the sound of her. He pulled back from the kiss, both of them were breathing heavily.

“Sweet Pea?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me.”

Sweet Pea looked down at her and swallowed hard. Her face was flooded with a deep blush, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes yearning.

He pulled her hair back and began kissing her neck. He let his hand slowly drift from her cheek down to her arm. He pulled her closer to his body, his bare chest pressed against her back. His hand slid down her arm.

He whispered into the crook of her neck. “Show me where.” Lily let out a small sigh. He was driving her crazy, she couldn’t even think clearly. She had no idea what she was doing, she just knew she wanted more.

She covered his hand with hers and let them slide up the side of her stomach beneath her shirt until they reached her underside of her breast. Sweet Pea groaned into her neck. Her skin felt so unbelievably soft and smooth. Lily slowly brought their hands up higher until she felt his the rough skin of his palm cup her breast. Lily let out a small moan. She felt him suck on her skin, sending a tingle down between her thighs. Her heart was racing. She felt Sweet Pea’s hand make its way down her stomach until he reached the waistband of her silk bottoms, his fingers slipped just past the waistband. Lily froze up. “We should stop.”

Sweet Pea halted and kissed her temple. “Okay.” She did want him to do more, she really did. But something kept stopping her. He draped his arm around her waist once more and closed his eyes. They both lay there, letting their breath catch up with them. Lily turned to face him. She reached out and let her finger trace over the lines of his serpent tattoo on his neck. Sweet Pea half opened his eyes to look at her.

“You’re beautiful.”

Lily averted her eyes. “Thank you.”

“I mean it. You’re beautiful.”

Lily looked up to him for a moment before she let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. Sweet Pea looked at her, perplexed.

“What’s so funny?”

Lily looked down, she was fidgeting with her gold cross. “I don’t know. It’s just… no one has ever said that to me before.”

“I find that hard to believe, darlin’.”

“I mean, people have called me beautiful before. Just…not the way that you do.”

Sweet Pea cocked his head at her. “And how do I say it?”

Lily paused for a second before she answered.

“Like you mean it.”

Sweet Pea lifted her chin up to look her in the eye. “That’s because I do mean it.” He gently pressed his lips to hers before he laid back down. Lily curled into his side, letting the sound of his breath evening out lull her to sleep.

[prxschxo]

[ JORDAN CONNOR, 24 , MALE , HE/HIM ] welcome to the du pont institute for the young & gifted, [ PRESTON CHAO ]. you have been accepted as a [ SCHOLARSHIP ] student from [ USA  ], going into your [ SENIOR YEAR ] and majoring in [ SPORTS MEDICINE ]. your peers at the institute say that you are [ +STRONG WILLED  & +CHARMING ], but being [ -HOT HEADED & -BOLD] may be the reason why the police are asking about you. did you think they wouldn’t find out that you were michael’s [ EX-BEST FRIEND ]? [ DUCKIE, 23, SHE/HER, CST ]

Get ready for a muse! Much different than Gabe I am positive that Preston will be fun because he gets in a lot of drama. I really love Preston and I’m sure you will too !! Please feel free to message me if you want any plots or connections!

GENERAL

Name: Preston Morgans

Age: 24

Place of birth: Northchester, New York

Spoken languages: English, learning ASL, chinese

Sexual orientation: heterosexual

Occupation: Student

Eye color: Brown

Hair color: Black

Height: 6′4′’

Scars: Chest after car accident

Tattoos: back of both hands; rose on one and wolf on the other.

FAVOURITE

Color: any of the colors that associate with fall; brownish-reds, deep oranges

Entertainment: watching 80′s movies, cooking, listening to crime podcasts, parties

Pastime: beer pong, movies, flirting, reading

Drink: peach soda and double shot espresso

G E N E R A L -

-To be born under a wealthy man might be a blessing to many but for Preston he’d consider it a curse. He is the product of an affair and lives uncomfortably under the roof of a huge secret.

-His mother had become a young cleaning lady for Bruce Langston; leader and CEO of the economical department in the city. He is a huge deal and any scandal can lead him to lose his position, apparently he didn’t care about that when the man had sex and impregnated Preston’s mother despite having a wife. Once she found out she was pregnant Preston’s mother made absolutely sure that she used that for her advantage and so she became a live in maid, had her life paid for and when it came to her child everything that Preston would need would be taken care of. Even if it meant that Preston would forever be casted into the shadows of the family like an ugly scar. 

- This was agreed upon after Bruce’s wife found out and bitterly accepted so her husband would keep his title and money. That was all that the woman carred about after all; not having to give up her rich and lavis lifestyle. But that didn’t mean she was at all accepting of the boy especially when just a few weeks later she became pregnant herself and now there would be two babies under the household that would have to know they were different.

- And the wicked mother she was. She purposely spoiled Preston’s half sibling making sure they had everything. Preston was set for live but they still lived as middle class people so no suspicions were made. Preston always knew he was never going to be treated equally and that was why in his teen years the boy began to rebel in hopes to get caught by his father. 

- Bruce hated the fact that Preston was all just a huge stick in his life. And didn’t exactly treat him all too kindly, even though living in the house was nice Preston was treated just as the secret bastard. Even to his half sibling that was born two years after him they were close, little diana not letting her parents hatred come between her and her only brother. 

-it was sad, the only other person preston loved more than anything and they had to act like they didn’t like each other. but it didn’t stop his young sister from taking care of him and any moment they were able to have together they made sure they had fun. all until they were in public and had to act like they had no relations at all. how hard it was for preston and diana to at like they hated each other but it was what was forced upon them. 

- This led to a few rebellious streaks in his life growing up, hanging out in the poor sections of town, dealing with boys who were not part of the Langston Aesthetic and even getting in a lot of trouble by fighting. This only caused more of a hate for him in the household but as long as he was only seen as the maids boy to the town he got away with it. This family secret was deep. So much so when it came to schooling and his mother’s push that Bruce send Preston to the same schools as his other child, daisy, there was a fake scholarship created in the company that Preston was put under. No one suspected a thing and didn’t have to question why the Langston’s were paying for some no-good maid’s son.

- while in school Preston found the life of underground fighting. Getting bets and fighting in a ring with no rules. Due to his size and build he trained and soon became a top competitor. He was getting the spotlight and loved it, plus there was no better way to get a rush and release his anger then fighting in a ring. 

MEETING MICHAEL VALMONT- 

-Preston always had a hard time setting in with the fact he was a burden and shadow to his father and would lash out. He didn’t know why Michael liked him so much but once Michael found out Preston’s secret he took him under his wing and they practically became brothers. 

-always close, preston didn’t exactly agree with everything Michael did and the two would fight but after a few hours it would be brushed under the rug and forgotten. Except for the final straw. 

-Michael started dating a girl and Preston was instantly drawn to her. Falling for her hard and quick. It wasn’t until Preston and the girl started to hook up that Michael ended their friendship and threatened preston’s secret which meant Preston had to stop seeing the girl and he was down a best friend. this has always been hard on the boy and even after trying to fix it with michael the two would only end up fighting again.  

PERSONALITY &&. HEADCANONS  -

-  Being the literal mistake in the chaotic family Preston is a bit of a bitter person. Eye rolling, stubborn, hot headed, and quick to defend himself.

- He’s had no one to stick up for him at home and he learned to do this on his own; he is hated at home and only has been told to never speak of his family ties, even being forced by his half brother to never speak to him in public. This makes him pushed away. The tall boy in the back of crowds; out of the spotlight. Preston is not allowed to be seen. Not wanted and that affects the way he is motivated to show off his actual skills.

-his mother has been his biggest teacher and he has an everlasting respect for woman because of it. He will find himself too ashamed to ever mistreat a girl in fear of his mother finding out. 

-As much as preston respects girls, he really loves to hook up with them too, not that he wont show them a good time but if he finds his chance with someone he takes it. 

- If he was allowed he’d want to be in art, he’s been a lover of arts since he was a child and he is very good at it but of course he is far too self contentious on being forced down. Preston isn’t even allowed to use his size to play sports and as a result he sneaks off to other cities to fight at night. It’s not safe and he uses a fake name but people cheer for him. They see him it’s the only time he feels at peace… even if that peace is dangerous, illegal, and leaves him in bruises that lead his mother to worry.

-  He loves to party; going out and living the life away from that home of his where he is seen as a burden. It’s fun unless his brother is around and the whole time he just gets hard glares to not embarrass him.

-  Find him sketching in his books, doodling along the pages or in sketchbooks in the halls of courtyards. Don’t be surprised if you become his muse. He loves drawing people.

-  Anger; he’s quick to it no matter how much he doesn’t want to be. He just has been pushed to the side so much that he takes things seriously and any insult will trigger him. Sorry if he fights you, he just finds it easier than anything else. -  Aside from being a hot head though he has taken interest in girls and as most boys do tries to test out his flirtatious ways as much as he can. He might not be the best flirt, as he has been told his scowl and serious attitude seems to drive a pretty girl away at times but he still tries.

C O N N E C T I O N S -

Muse: preston seen this girl around and every time he just... feels something. She makes him happy and even though it might sound creepy... he gets caught more then once sketching her; Fallon Kingsley 

I’ll scratch your back you scratch mine: They don’t really get a long but always help each other out when they need it: Alice

Crush; they are always one moment from hooking up and yet it always ends with one of them pulling away with a nervous smile, could be the girl that ended michael and preston’s friendship; daisy

You annoy the hell out of me; always butting heads and yet they hang around the same people; Alice 

you’re weird but I kinda like you: preston finds him awkward but nice so he still talks to him from time to time; Hugo

Party buddies/wingmen: Preston is a terrible flirt and at least he’s got; cristian

Friends: just close, eats lunch with, drinks peach mixers at parties;  william

Rivals: this person is more than annoying, Preston can’t be in the same room with them without fighting with this person; 

hookup, fwb, one night stands, exes; analyn (he was her first time)

the little sibling he never got; she was one of michael’s ex’s when Preston and Michael were still friends, Preston hated that Michael would brag about sleeping with the girl and preston never felt Michael treated her right, he found she was a good girl and deserved to be treated much better. He still is very protective of her and thinks she’s too good for dupont. soshanna 

his cash cow; The girl has been a past hook up but now, the only thing she hooks up with preston for is the percentage she gets off his winnings. She tells him where to fight, who he’s fighting, and how to win... and preston hands over some of the money he makes. it’s a good thing they have just... don’t tell her they are friends, she denies it every thime.; Sabina

Preston’s half-brother (or sister): this person got everything from his father that he didn’t and it’s all because his father could, and did, show them off to the world. Preston can’t hate his half-sibling but just once he wants to have his father view him as more than just the “maid’s son”. they are close though, and when they are alone they treat each other like the close siblings they with they could be; diana langston

should be girl: her and preston have a strange relationship. they are close but in a way that hurts him every time. They were a strong thing in high school and he got every attached to her, to this day he would do anything for her... which includes being her booty call every time her and her boyfriend break up. He wants nothing but to keep her happy but he knows that she and her boyfriend will always get back together and he would be stuck waiting for the call to drop everything and go to her when she was crying over her boyfriend; Maddy

the girl who changed it all: she was dating michael, and at this time preston and Michael were still at brother status, best friends no matter how much they fought. But when she came into the picture Preston fell head over heels for her and she had her eyes on Preston as well. They snuck around for the whole time saying they just hung out at the gym or were studying. When Michael found out he and preston fought so bad it ruined their friendship for good and even though Michael was no saint he was greedy and knowing preston loved this girl he wanted the boy to suffer. So to make sure of that he told preston that if he still saw his ex he would tell everyone how much more of a relation he has to the towns big bad political CEO. and no one could know that preston was his son. so preston tried to stay away... only to keep hooking up with her on the down low; 

the secret high school hookup: she stole his crayons when they were young and that sparked a feud between them. but a heated feud that had its breaks when the two seemed to be alone... he kissed her in the slide and that opened them up to years of secretly hooking up in high school just for the fun of it. they still act like they hate each other but the door is always open for good memories in between the times they are saying they hate each other; Calla

[rezares]

Wildcard || War & Peace

Reading order of posted threads:

Spill The Tea (August 22, 2019)

Bullshit Cover Story (November 10, 2019)

Bullshit Detective (November 10, 2019)

Word Count: 2166

Date: November 10th, 2019

tl;dr: Rory follows Reza to the airport because he’s a shit liar

@spindlesandrosethorns

AURORA

Aurora was probably making a bad decision. 

It wasn’t as if she and Reza didn’t have enough bullshit muking up their friendship; somehow she didn’t think inviting herself on his murdercation would endear her to him in the slightest. But Aurora refused to let him go and face his former student alone, and so when Reza had evasively said he was going to be out of town for a while, she had bribed Lamia into getting her his itinerary and bought her own ticket on the same flight.

Not that much bribery was involved. Rory had said “I’m following your brother to Tunisia” and Lamia and Fadela had given her all the help she didn’t think to ask for.

The ticket she had bought was burning a hole through her bag and against her hip, but she walked through the terminals like nothing was wrong. If he wanted to fight her, fine, but she was getting on that plane by hook or by crook. She had arrived with plenty of time to spare, and was even able to get some tea before making her way to their gate. Reza was easy to spot - not because he stood out, but because she simply couldn’t miss him if she tried - and taking a deep breath, Aurora walked up to him calmly. Might as well be upfront.

“That seat taken?” she asked, one hand on her hip.

REZA

Reza’s heart wasn’t racing. In fact, he was more at ease than he’d been in years. Soon enough Mekki Masmoudi wouldn’t be breathing, let alone be a problem, and that was the greatest comfort of Reza’s life. It was time to put down the monster he’d unwittingly created.

His eyes were cast down at the book in his lap he brought for some plane reading when a voice said something about a seat.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahea-” y’allah. He knew that voice. 

“Rory!” He jumped in his seat, knocking his book to the floor. To hell with losing his page, what was she doing here? “How- why-? The fuck?”

AURORA

Calm as anything, Aurora ignored his spluttering and instead sat down in the available seat with a casual toss of her curls. She scooped up his book and held it out to him.

"I'm doing my father a favor picking up some papers from a business partner of his in Tunisia," she said evenly, her eyes not leaving his. "Maybe checking out the fibre scene while I'm there." She silently dared him to call her out on her fib. "Lamia and Fadela were kind enough to tell me when you were flying out so I wouldn't have to fly alone." At this, she gave him a smile. "Hope you don't mind."

Read: I'm coming. Suffer.

REZA

He took his book, grip weak as most of his strength went to his brain to try and processes this scene. Rory was here. Rory knew. Rory was barging in on his plans to kill a man.

She sat down next to him and Reza wanted to scream. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to the exit and tell airport security she had knife or something. Anything to keep her from boarding that flight to Tunisia. 

She shouldn’t be here.

“Go home, Aurora.” Reza said darkly. “Go home.”

She needed to leave.

AURORA

Aurora knew she was currently treading water in the depths of Reza's anger; that any second now she was going to be sucked under. But she refused to back down or be cowed by her sorcery master.

"Would," she said with a shrug, "but I already bought my ticket. Buggers are impossible to refund. 'Sides," she said, resting her chin on the tips of her fingers. "You look like you need a travel companion too. It's a long trip to make alone, and I don't mind flying."

Reza was a smart man, he'd be able to hear the words between her words.

REZA

No, no, no. She needed to be far away from him while he was this version of himself. She didn’t need to see this, or watch him wash blood off of himself, or have any part in this. 

“You can’t come. You’ll feel cramped. My dad’s apartment is small, we’re poor.” Reza deadpanned. 

“I’ll give you the ticket cost money.”

AURORA

Aurora gave him a deadpan look in return that clearly said "Really, dude?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I am like… half your size," Aurora said. "I'm not concerned about space. Worse comes to worse, I rent a room somewhere."

REZA

“Then you can’t come because you can’t be an accomplice in a homicide. You can’t go to a country where the punishment for being a sorcerer is vigilante murder.” Reza said, gripping his book tight to keep from raising his voice. 

Was Aurora this in love with him or just this stupid?

“I know you know. Fadela has a big mouth.”

AURORA

"Fadela didn't have to have a big mouth because you left your conspiracy folder on the desk we both use," Aurora replied, leaning in so she could keep her voice under a whisper. "You've been attached to that thing at the hip for weeks now, I got worried. Also, notice how I didn't mention any of that in public? Keep up, Reza."

Her expression was calm even though she could see the anger dancing around him. She honestly did not want to be fighting with him, but there really was no other alternative. "I'm coming," she said, quiet but firm. "You are not doing this alone. So either I fly in with you or I travel there by myself and track you down once I arrive."

REZA

Why can’t she just leave? He didn’t want or need her here. Why did she have to do this?

“You can’t track me down, you don’t speak Arabic.” Reza countered. “And Tunisia is dangerous for foreign women who don’t know the Middle East to travel to unless they go with a local.”

“And I don’t have time to be a tour guide and translator. I’ll ditch you at the airport in Tunis and continue to my hometown alone.”

AURORA

Aww, he thought a language barrier would be enough to stop her. That was cute.

But she didn't say that. She didn't point out that she could defend herself more than well enough. That she could always call Lamia or Fadela for help.

All Aurora did was stare into his eyes and quietly ask, "Would you?"

(They both knew the answer was no.)

REZA

Reza blinked at her and wanted nothing more than to physically carry her back through security and out of the airport. This wasn’t a world for her. She was never meant to see his darkness, his hatred, and bloodlust so clearly.

If she fancied herself such a good friend, couldn’t she see this hurt him?

“Without hesitation.” They both knew he was lying.

AURORA

He was bluffing and she knew it, so Aurora just turned to her phone with a small hum. "Guess I'll meet you in Hammamet then," she said. 

After he had a moment to steam, she leaned closer and whispered in his ear "I'm not coming along while you actually find the guy, I know better. I'm just here to make sure you come home. I promise I'll stay at your da's place like a good girl and won't get in anyone's way."

It was aggravating, religating herself to the kids' table so to speak just so Reza didn't throw more of a bitch-fit than he already was, but Aurora knew where her strengths were. And they weren't in battle magic or any sort of fighting. She'd be dead weight. No, her skills lay in other places; pulling Reza's head out of his ass was practically listed on her resume.

REZA

“You don’t know where my father lives.” Reza mumbled childishly, looking away from her and staring out the window overlooking the tarmac.

He laughed mirthlessly as he bit down on a curled knuckle to stifle it and relaxed his legs...yeah, manspreading a little. ‘Making sure he comes home.’ What does that even mean? As if he was going to stay in Tunisia. As if he could. He was revealed as a sorcerer, he couldn’t stay forever. Sabiha was the only reason he’d ever wanted to move back there one day but now she was in Swynlake. He wanted to be where his daughter was, wherever that may be.

“I don’t need you to do that.” He said quietly. “Like I could possibly be apart from my daughter ever again.”

AURORA

She knocked her knee against his reflexively, the motion almost habit from long nights sitting together on his couch either going over magical texts or Board documents. “That’s not what I mean,” she said softly.

Physically, yes, Reza would come home. Sabiha was enough incentive for that. But he would leave a piece of himself in Tunisia wherever Mekki met his end if someone wasn’t there to guide him back. She couldn’t just stay home and wait for him to come back in pieces, left alone with his thoughts for too long. No, she would be there. What exactly she could do, she didn’t know - this was the most the two had talked in one time about something that wasn’t in a lesson plan in months, whatever care he’d had for her thoughts and opinions had vanished when the bruise on her chest had bloomed on her skin - but she wasn’t going to let that keep her from trying.

REZA

A silence fell between them. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t awkward either. It just was.

“You need to do everything I tell you to do.” Reza finally said, opening up the front pocket of his carry on to pull out a notebook and pen. “Tunisia is one of the best places in the MENA region to be a woman-” he explained, writing quickly. “- but the whole area is trash for magicks, so that kind of cancels out our strides in gender equality. There should be some of Lamia’s and Fadela’s old clothes in their room at baba’s house, so if I think an outfit needs some...Tunisia-fying, just add whatever I hand you.”

“Hammamet is a larger northern city, so total modesty isn’t all but demanded like in the south of Tunisia. And you’ve traveled to Africa before and been hanging out with Tunisian Muslims long enough to know, so I’m not implying you aren’t prepared, but-” he shrugged. “ - just don’t get offended if I toss you a shawl for your arms. Did you pack sunglasses? Like a good pair? The sun is bright in Tunisia year-round, you will need them. We can buy some there if we need to.”

He kept writing until he was satisfied, and ripped the page from his notebook, extending it to her.

“You’ll get around just fine with English and French - and I’m not letting you go anywhere alone anyway - but you’ll impress people if you learn just this much Tounsi. Learn it, live it, love it.”

AURORA

Aurora didn’t grin when Reza accepted that she was coming along, but it was a very near thing. He could probably see the satisfaction and relief curling around her, and really, that was telling enough. She sat up and listened to him carefully, watching his pen fly across the paper.

She didn’t mention that she had packed most of her clothes she wore when visiting Mozambique with her mother, including enough head-scarves to keep even Aurora’s wild curls contained and tucked away. Her mother’s home wasn’t Tunisia, so if Reza thought her outfits weren’t to snuff, she’d listen.

“I did,” she reassured, patting her carry on bag. Fadela had basically given her the same speech over the phone while she and Ella had packed. Aurora took the page from Reza, looking over his familiar handwriting carefully. There were several words that Aurora couldn’t read without her accent tripping over itself, but darn it, she was going to learn them.

“You’re going to have to help me with pronunciation,” Aurora admitted. “But I’ll learn them.”

REZA

Reza nodded. 

“Good.” He went back to staring at the tarmac. This was a terrible, horrible, awful idea. He should shout ‘she has a bomb!’ but ah, neither of them were white. Probably not the best idea for either of their very brown asses.

“Aurora, I can’t stress enough how dangerous going to my country is. If you so much as think the word ‘magic’ I will kick your ass. Metaphorically. A lot of metaphorical ass-kicking will go down. Clear?”

AURORA

“I will be on my best behavior,” Aurora promised, catching his eye so he could see how serious she was. This wasn’t a decision she had made lightly, no matter how easily it had come to her. She knew what the risk was; it just happened that she thought Reza needed her more.

[cyanpeacock]

Realtalk(tm): Living With Ada Doom

ALRIGHT. so. those of you who have read Cold Comfort Farm know exactly where this is going.

so, when I was a kid, my mum would get drunk, and sad, and tell me about how awful her mum was, all the depressing shit, and she’d cry on me, you know, the works, the kind that should go down with a counsellor, or therapist.

I don’t remember it clearly. I had to like, switch off, you know? Mummy’s sad. I’m sad too. It’s going to be okay. Stroking her hair. That’s about all I remember, apart from the pain I had to hide to make everything better.

Except, it totally wasn’t okay, because I was giving my drunken mother comfort, and the next day she was giving me smacks, and isolation as punishment, and denying me food when I was rowdy, as children are. 

Later, she’d give me a book to read, called Cold Comfort Farm.

It’s a good book. It’s a parody of things along the lines of Wuthering Heights, you know, mopey miserable out-in-the-countryside romance novels where everyone is abusive, but That’s The Way It’s Always Been, Out Here. 

Flora comes along and fixes everything right up.

Some part of her wanted me to be Flora. 

A good, proper, refined young woman. Stately. Observant. Academic. Very sporting. 

I am not Flora.

I was very nearly Ada Doom, the woman who saw something nasty in the woodshed. Well - for a while, I thought I was her, but I didn’t have control over a farm/family. I wasn’t holding all the books. 

This phrase got used against me a lot - “something nasty in the woodshed.” It translated to, “you’re overreacting, be quiet,” in the circles I moved in. Often delivered as a joke, but actually, a warning.

Flora was not, actually, a very nice woman, and she was not, actually, very nice to Ada Doom. 

“Did it see you?”

The point I’m continually making, is.

I didn’t see something nasty in the woodshed, once, when I was a child.

I saw a whole fucking lot of nasty things, all around me, in my own home, that chased me into my bedroom, that physically, verbally, and emotionally abused me, for over a decade. I heard other nasty things going on, in rooms I wasn’t in, but sound carries. I saw and heard even nastier things happening between the only Adult Role Models I had.

This all seemed very normal, until I had an assembly on abuse in primary school, and recognized myself in it.

I told myself, “mummy loves me. It’s not really abuse. Is it?” 

I told myself this for years.

Skip to the future. It’s easier for me.

Later I ran away somewhere a bit cleaner, to live with a racist opioid addict. It was fucking awesome, for a while, but yeah, that’s another post. He’d also use “something nasty in the woodshed” against me, or just say “Ada Doom.”

My mother would chatter things about “he’s brainwashing you! Mind control!” when I did see her at the same time as him, separately. It’s like she didn’t realize he was only using things he’d seen her use on me. She probably didn’t, because they’d probably been used on her, and she hadn’t spotted the conditioning.

So, in this story, what did “Flora” turn out to be?

An angry, inhibited, explosive, snappy, hungry young man, who just wanted to get high, forget about the past, and go to lesson, so he could learn something that would get him out of this shithole, and into a decent home, with a car that runs and a job that pays in the wallet, mind, and heart. 

I hid so much of the pain I was in, because when it was actually expressed, I’d get dismissed, belittled, or outright yelled at, even after the physical hitting had stopped. 

She always said, “you know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

So I’d try, like a kid, who desperately wanted to believe that his mother did “love him” - that is, knew how to give emotionally healthy and nourishing expressions of love. 

And time and time again, I’d get, “I think you’re overreacting.” “Isn’t that a bit extreme?” “It doesn’t mean anything.” “They’re just jealous.” “You’re imagining things.” Or, you know, “I think you’re being selfish.” “Selfish little cow!”

So there I was, my self harm getting worse and worse, the pressure my piece of shit school placed on me getting worse and worse, hearing Mark fucking cussing me out again, becoming increasingly abusive towards myself and people I really, deeply cared about, because I had literally no understanding, no framework for internally and mutually rewarding loving interaction. 

I don’t even remember what happened. Shit went down, mother had got a “boyfriend,” they were going to get married, they split up, I was caught in the middle because I was a kid who never really had a dad and desperately wanted one, I got used as a pawn in a game of chess between two emotionally unwell adults who couldn’t agree to break up without causing an enormous fight and dragging their entire circle of Facebook friends into it. It was really ugly. Like, one of the friends died, and shit like “good riddance” was getting thrown about. It was really ugly. I wanted so badly to get involved and break it all up, but yeah, fuck Facebook, I didn’t use it, still don’t.

So, I ran away to live with the one who’d caused me less hurt, the racist opioid addict, because at least he could see me as a son, while the drunk was still transphobic as hell. That’s the other post, for the future. 

But yes, Ada Doom followed me there, and according to them, I was still living in the woodshed.

But I was supposed to be Flora. I was supposed to be good, nice, and orderly, and I was accepted while I was these things. If I wasn’t, I’d get a verbal slap in the right direction, through this insidious fucking phrasology tied in with a long, long history of emotional manipulation.

This all started with my mother, and her mother, and probably her mother before her, and a whole line of absent fathers. 

I’m the one who noticed this, and decided, “no more of this shit. No more of this shit. I am never bringing a child into this world so full of pain, and I have no idea how to fix any of this on my own, and the people who are supposed to help me don’t, and I don’t fucking trust anybody enough to let them in.”

I’m the one who noticed this was abuse. I’m the one who started reading, trying to understand the inside of my head, getting it wrong, getting it right-ish, doubting myself, always coming back and really thinking “fuck, that is so much like me” to conditions that arise as a result of complex, long-term trauma. 

I’m the one who made the jump into homelessness when the racist opioid addict became unbearable. I’m the one who went into a hostel while I was doing my A-Levels. I’m the one who passed them. I’m the one who saw a counsellor every week and just fucking sobbed because there was nowhere else I could cry like that without killing myself. 

I’m the one who read about psychodynamic theory, and fundamental interpretations of the structures of psyche, and thought about it all myself, how it might apply to my brain in particular. I’m the one who read intently about complex trauma, and healing from it. I’m the one who learned about EMDR, and figured out I could do that with good stereo music, and tapping my hands and feet on the bus. I’m the one who studied very specific parts of the DSM V, over and over, circling and circling until I zeroed in on the places that fit well enough to help me understand, find resources, and recover. 

I’m the one who read very, very, very closely about marijuana, the endocannabinoid system, and its relation to trauma. I understood this was drug abuse, and dependency, and that dependency and addiction are almost interchangeable. I’m the one who knew I didn’t really want to smoke until my mind burned away, unless I couldn’t Make It at university. I’m the one who smashed my pipe in July, and hasn’t wanted to smoke again since, and doesn’t really want to go back, but will if he falls/fails. 

I’m the one who learned to meditate, just drop out into a trance, for minutes or hours, with and without drugs in my system, with silence or with music, and now increasingly with background noise, although that one is REALLY difficult for me. I’m the one who learned all those weird skills like “noting” and “radical acceptance” and other things I’ve forgotten the name of but notice as different states of consciousness. 

I’m the one who knew all this psych work was supposed to be very dangerous, you shouldn’t do this if you aren’t A Professional(tm), but I’m also the one who knew I didn’t trust a single fucking “Professional” to do the right thing, make the right referrals, administer the treatment properly, after being betrayed and forced and dismissed by so many so-called Professionals.

I’m the one who decided, in not so many words: well, fuck, it’s less dangerous for me to do all these things, and make mistakes trying, than it is for me to let somebody in, and receive another injury, at my most vulnerable. 

The thing about Ada Doom is, she’s a character in a fucking parody novel. 

You’re not Ada Doom. You’re not Catherine Earnshaw. 

You can’t live your whole life making sad allegories through books that dig up your old pain without actually resolving any of it, because you’re reading ahead and projecting the romantic, ugly, fantasy conclusion onto what really happened, to your body.

It’s really useful! It’s really useful, for a long time, to connect with your pain through fiction. Forever, actually.

But I’ve got to get angry about being expected to be a character from a fucking parody novel.

“You’ll understand later.”

I understand. I understand why you did what you did. I understand you couldn’t control it. I understand why you showed me this book.

It cannot negate, diminish, or remove any of my anger. 

I had to go to a counsellor, for years, research, for years, think and feel, for years, to find the right language and tone to communicate my experiences. I’m still learning. I’m especially still talking, because I haven’t been able to talk about any of this, because my mother wouldn’t let me. All she did was give me strange, roundabout books, that were good, and annoyingly on the nose, and say “You’ll understand later.”

If you’re saying that, if they’re asking the question isn’t it about time you explained?

Isn’t it about time you realized you need help explaining? 

I can’t keep going back to a sad fucking house full of hurting fucking children. It drags me down again every time, although I really do cherish the moments where I could just pretend it was all normal and painless and easy to be a family. I really do. 

And yes, I know, it’s circular, it’s not that fucking easy, because I couldn’t let anybody in, because I was “normal,” as far as my mother was concerned. I know I’m lucky I’m very quick, I learn well, and I’m completely fucking invested in research and execution. 

I had to become these things for a sick, sick woman, who wanted a kid who would save/change her life. 

It’s not a fairytale. I know it feels like one. I know it feels like Prince Charming is just around the corner, it must be soon, just one more page! The Big Bad Wolf is still lurking!

You gotta make Prince Charming. You have to make the person you want to marry inside your head. I’m getting there. There’s no ring on it. That might be the total illusion of self. It might not be. I don’t know what’s happening to my system, yet. 

That voice in your head who yells at you, but isn’t you, but won’t tell you their name? Give them a fucking name. Think them up a face and a body. Go and learn some emotional regulation skills, slowly, because it’s really difficult. Revise them. Pass them along. Talk to them. They’ll stop yelling at you. You’ll be able to turn to them for comfort, and they’ll get all your jokes, because you’re sharing a brain, and the connections do keep coming your entire life/lives. They can be your partner, if you like, and they do too. 

I don’t know what happens after that, and that is just this body/me/us/the irrelevancy of pronouns astounds me. 

So, I’m very stupid.

I really did take the hood off my car at the side of the road with smoke pouring out. I didn’t know anything about what colour meant “get the hell away” or “it’s fine, just call the recovery van.” I just knew there was a problem, it needed fixing, and I didn’t have insurance.

I did it the stupid way. I touched it while it was hot. I tried using stuff I had in the back of the car. I walked to the garage, and they rang my mum? I walked back to the car and slept in it for a while, resolute in my decision not to go back to the garage again. I walked to the tool shop, and bought something to take that bit on the top off. I walked to the library and borrowed a book on cars. I bought more tools. I borrowed more books, this time on engines, because the car book was only about cars, and I had a problem with the engine. 

I kept getting the wrong fucking tools, and the wrong fucking books, because all engines are different, and different tools fit different engines. I just compared what I had to what was in there, then threw the wrong crap into the boot in a huff, or whacked the engine with whatever size spanner I had at hand.

I went back to the garage. They didn’t know what to do, they couldn’t see the car, just somebody who read too many manuals, and was on drugs. I still knew I didn’t have insurance. 

More tools, more books, still showing up at the garage, still getting dismissed, hating them more every time, them getting more and more bored of me. I was getting closer to fixing the car, but still making mistakes.

I found a mechanic, one who didn’t work with the garage. He let me tell him about the car, slowly, the way I’d figured it out. 

He knew a few things about engines. We spoke about the garage. He was very sympathetic. We spoke a lot about the car. He knew more than a few things about engines, actually.

I got better at fixing the car on my own.

Unfortunately, all this walking was fucking my legs. I’d really like to get back in the car again, and go places quicker. All this work is really slowing me down from what I’d like to be doing. It’s also getting me to a point where I can do what I’d like to.

The car still isn’t fixed. I’m not sure what goes where next, or if this is actually the same engine I started with at all, but I have an idea what might work, and a mechanic who knows he doesn’t know the problem, but actually lets me tell him, unlike the garage. 

So yes. Ada Doom is and is not dead to me. 

The fairytale thing is great, but at some point, you gotta stop reading other people’s, and start reading/writing your own. But only if you’re that way inclined, and I said the bit before in a rude tone because I’m frustrated. 

Long post. That’s enough.

I’m not Flora Poste.

[lj-writes]

Finn and Rey versus capitalism

Finn's and Rey's stories can be read as representing the different facets of capitalist exploitation of workers, and their striking back at the First Order was also the beginning of their liberation. They were being held back by the fight by the abusive and false beliefs that had been instilled into them, and it was only by their love and trust in each other that they started seeing through the lies and started on their paths as heroes.

Finn was at the elite end of the workforce, in a position where he was given no real choice but was relentlessly fed the propaganda that he was in an enviable position, indeed the only tenable position in a universe full of danger and darkness. He was never allowed to ask whether he wanted anything else out of life because all other possibilities were painted as unthinkable, as paths to death and destruction.

We know from Before the Awakening that Finn's life as a cadet was strictly regimented, his entire being carefully aimed toward the single end of furthering the First Order's dominance. The only metric of his worth was his accomplishment in areas that the FO had determined to be useful, such as his superb tactical abilities and marksmanship that Phasma openly praised. The cadets' very bodies were measured and policed, as seen with Finn's squadmate Nines being put on an extra exercise and diet regimen because he was deemed too heavy.

This kind of cultish propaganda and the endless pressure to achieve, produce, and conform are often associated with authoritarian communist regimes, but they are also emblematic of the way many experience capitalist systems. So many of us are told that ours is the only moral system, and all opposition equates support for dictatorship. We are encouraged to overlook the structures of incredible brutality that we rely upon. We are told we are worth nothing unless we produce output that is valuable for those in power, and unless we fit into acceptable social conventions.

And of course, none of this is actually for our benefit. For all that we are in a purported meritocracy and are supposed to find fulfillment in being better and achieving more, we at best gain the fleeting approval of people who care nothing about us. Indeed, even though Finn is considered the best of the best in the program, his experience there is defined by alienation and loneliness. He longs to find meaning in the great cause of the First Order, but we all know how that turned out.

Finn's story becomes even more visceral and relatable, I think, if you put it this way: A super-high-achieving student is told that his entire life's meaning is centered around being the best of the best, to uphold the only moral and humane system of governance in the world. He then realizes on his first brush with reality that, hey, he's actually working for the bad guys. He walks away from the only life he's ever known, into what he has been told since he was a child is not a real choice at all but a fall to depravity, instability, and very likely death. He does it anyway because he can't keep living this immoral lie anymore. Such is the strength of the propaganda that he is the only one to walk away and all his classmates stay. They were told that there is no life outside the First Order, but Finn decided to seek it out anyway. In a very real sense he threw his life away, and that is not a choice made easily.

Rey is on the other end of the material spectrum, without even the minimum stability of Stormtrooper life and living at subsistence level if that. The system of exploitation is much less genteel for her; no one bothered to shove perfumed bullshit at her because they don't need to. Her deal is simple: She produces or she starves, and by the way, she's just going to starve more slowly if she produces because there is a monopoly on buying (monopsony, to be more exact) and her buyer can set the price as his likes. She's going to be given the minimum that keeps her from dropping dead and keeps her scavenging. Yay for free markets and entrepreneurial spirit!

Rey, like Finn, is unusually accomplished, and unlike Finn had the advantage of learning what she herself found useful and interesting. The catch is that it doesn't make any difference: She can know ships inside out, train herself to be an accomplished engineer and pilot, and speak multiple languages, but she'll still live in a tent and go hungry.

The one way she could use her considerable skills to improve her circumstances was by leaving and seeking better employment, something Finn pointed out she could always do and something Han offered her in TFA. She could not, however, because Niima Outpost also offered her the only chance of an emotional attachment that she had been forcibly separated from. Unlike Finn she had no illusions about the justice of the system she lived under, but she was just as trapped because of her need to belong and be loved.

We see a lot of Reys in real life, and we may be her ourselves: An educated and skilled go-getter who works multiple jobs and whatever gigs come her way, but still lives in precarious poverty no matter how hard she works. She could seek something better if she wanted to, but is stuck by human connections, family, friends, or just the fear that she is unlovable and will never find acceptance elsewhere. Leaving is still unthinkable, though for different reasons than someone like Finn who was brainwashed into believing that he was living in a just and moral system.

For both Finn and Rey, their physical departures might have been abrupt but truly leaving behind the lies they were sold took more time. Finn was consumed by the thought that the First Order was all-powerful and all-encompassing. He might no longer be able to believe it was a force for good, but he still believed in its absoluteness. His was not a failure of morality or courage--we know he had more than enough of both--but of imagination. Learned helplessness prevented him from imagining anything but the Order's total victory. There could be no life outside the First Order because it would destroy everything that opposed it. The only solution was to flee from it because turning around to face it meant annihilation.

For Rey, leaving was not a choice but an emergency reaction, one that she tried to reverse once the danger was seemingly past. Like Finn she was still operating under a lie meant to keep her compliant, that she was not lovable and worthy as she was but rather had to wait and prove herself worthy to the only people who would love her. As she finds respect and friendship with Finn, then Han and Chewie, and when Maz gently tells her that her family are never coming back, she gradually comes to see the lie for what it is, but is not yet prepared to take the final leap.

It was only through solidarity and love that Finn and Rey could begin to see past the lies they'd been raised with and begin to fight back. When Finn saw Rey being taken away by Kylo Ren in a heart-shattering sequence, that was the moment he went from "I can't" to "I must." That was when the fight went from an impossible one to liberate the universe to a plausible, if still borderline suicidal, one to save one person. All his considerable passion and energy were turned to the purpose of going back to the very place he once wanted to flee to the end of the galaxy to avoid, and there was nothing he would not do--call in favors, ally with the Resistance, look Leia Organa and Han Solo in the face and lie... er, embellish the truth to them.

When Rey saw Finn in Starkiller Base, the heart of the nightmare he swore to her never to return to, that was when she went from "I'm nobody" to "I am everything." Finn showed her that she was worth everything including life and freedom. As was said in the script, this was all she ever wanted--for someone to come back for her. It was the same gift she had given to Finn earlier,  unknowingly: When he revealed himself to be a Stormtrooper, her reaction was not to recoil or lash out but to plead with him not to go. She didn't want a Resistance hero, she wanted Finn, the defected Stormtrooper. I love you just as you are, she told him, and he answered in suitably epic fashion, So do I.

It was on this basis that both Finn and Rey stood up to Kylo Ren, the narcissistic elitist who thought of both Finn and Rey as useful tools at best and as obstacles to be destroyed if they refused to be of use to him. And isn't that a neat little capitalist parable of itself, that for all the lip service to meritocracy the people who actually climb to the top are the douches with famous names, and the only route to the top with them is through their patronage and favor? ("You need a teacher!")

To hell with that, Finn and Rey tell him. To hell with your important family, your inborn power, your casual entitlement. You threaten what I hold  dearest in all the universe and for that I will fight you and never stop until one of us is dead. Finn, who had been raised all his life to unquestioning obedience, and Rey, who had been downtrodden all her life, fought back and refused to back down.

It's worth noting that both Finn and Rey's final acts in The Force Awakens are diametrically opposed to their initial starting places. Finn went from "I won't" to "I will." Where at first he refused to do evil and fled to avoid it, at the end he was actively fighting against evil to protect himself and the person he loved. Rey went from "life at all cost" to "love at all cost." Where she was a shrewd survivor at the start of the movie, she gave no more thought to her own life as she refused Kylo Ren's offer and later lay weeping on top of an unconscious Finn on a disintegrating planet.

Evil and exploitative systems rely above all on the passivity of the exploited. Finn was cowed by terror and Rey by the need to survive. Once Finn was no longer terrorized and Rey found something worth more than life itself, the spell of passivity was broken and they became warriors. The key for both of them was love, in seeing each other just as they were and linking hands in mutual compassion and devotion.

How much time do we spend thinking accomplishment and survival define our worth? How many opportunities and what rivers of potential do we waste because we need to fit in to a system of merit, because we have to make a living in a rigged economy? How long have we been told this is the only way and we have to take any amount of crap thrown at us because we have no choice? What would happen if more of us realize that no, we are worth more than this, and we can do and be so much better--together? What could stand in our way then? What kind of world might we mold from that realization?

We might not be there in the real world, but in small pockets, in our relationships and communities, many of us are struggling toward answers. We can seek answers in our imaginations, too, and these imaginary heroes showed us one possible picture of oppressed people standing against brutality, bound together and strengthened by love. It is a fitting dream for our age.

(Originally posted to my Pillowfort blog)