#i cannot even lie i am so incredibly fucking exited

[singsweetmelodies]

@ everyone who follows me for the fake dating au

eight thousand words later and we are finally ready to go ❤️❗

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 26 - Irrational

“Oh thank the Twelve, you’re coming to.”

Blinking your eyes, you feel like you’ve been floating in space and have finally come down to earth, your limbs feeling heavy after being suspended in zero-gravity. You’ve been passing out too much lately you think, circumstances be damned.

Milky eyes that belong to a powdery face come into focus, Merlwyb the picture of worry as she calls for a doctor to check on your condition.

“Chief Merlwyb?” you cough, a glass of water held in front of you before you can even ask, Merlwyb slipping a straw inside and gently holding it towards your face. Mumbling a word of thanks, you take a sip, the water refreshing and quenching as you nearly down the whole cup until Merlwyb draws it away.

“I think you should slow it down. From what I understand, they were having to reintroduce you to food.” Merlwyb murmurs, setting the cup down on a nearby nightstand. Taking a look around you’re back in the same makeshift sick room within Cid’s mansion, IV hooked up to your arm as it pumps you full of whatever is in the bag attached to it. The doctor shows up soon enough, giving you a quick once over as she makes sure you’re on the mend.

As the doctor asks you a few questions, you notice Merlwyb looking incredibly guilty, wondering if she really feels so bad you had gotten captured. Surely she can’t be beating herself up over that?

“And if I may ask,” the doctor begins but Merlwyb holds up a hand gently.

“If it is alright with you doctor, I would like to speak to my officer about this alone.” Merlwyb interrupts, the doctor giving a nod of understanding, saying nothing more as she exits the room. Turning to you, Merlwyb’s fists are clenched tightly in her lap, and you get too worried to keep your peace.

“Is everything okay?” you ask with a broken laugh. “I mean, I know it was scary, Varis locking me up, but I’m okay. I’m okay.” You grin, reaching out to try to console her but she jerks away. “Chief,”

“Do not call me that.” She bites out, the harshness of her voice shocking you. A little hurt, you begin to question what you could’ve done to warrant such a flip in her attitude, until you see she is shaking with unshed tears, liquid pooling in the corners of her eyes as she finally gains the will to meet you eye to eye. “Do not refer to me with such respect after I’ve failed you so catastrophically.”

Confused, you shift to try and sit up a little better. “Chief Merlwyb, what do you mean? I thought we went over all the risks at the start! We knew that this would be a dangerous job,”

“The job would be dangerous, yes! But never would I have made you become pregnant with that bastard’s child!” She cries, tears finally running down her face. You sit in perfect stillness, unsure what to say. Faced with the reality of having to explain that you were not only pregnant with Zenos’ child, but that you didn’t even feel bad about it. When Varis had revealed that same fact to you, you didn’t even care.

“We sent you to simply try and catch his son in the act. To give us any kind of proof of illegal activity. Only to realize too late we had put you in that monster’s hands!” Merlwyb sobs, clutching your hands within her own. “When I had said that you must protect the mission at any cost, I never meant that you had to bear Varis’ child. That you would have to accept him forcing himself upon you.”

Eyes widening as you see the cause of her grief, you fumble to try and find your right words. “Chief, I...did the doctor,”

“The only one that knows is myself and Cid. Cid is busy preparing other avenues to try and handle Varis.” Merlwyb grumbles, over the worst of her crying. “He was appalled to learn of this, he had--”

“Please, please, stop right there.” You groan, sick at the thought of if things really had gotten to where they assumed they had. Taking a deep breath, you fix Merlwyb with a guilty look of your own. “Never would I have guessed the famed Annihilator to be a crier.” You joke weakly, watching as she seems to lighten the tiniest bit.

“Strong I may be, but I am not immune to the suffering of my officers.” She sniffs, rubbing your hands with her larger ones.

Looking at your hands joined together in your lap, you struggle on what to say next. “While I’m...glad you feel such concern with me...things didn’t get that far. Not with Varis.”

Brows furrowing, Merlwyb shifts closer to you in her seat. “What do you mean?”

Breathing deeply, you try to get everything out in one breath. “I will not deny it. What led to me being locked away was actually due to Varis trying to force himself on me.” Saying it nearly makes you throw up, tilting your head back as you take calming breaths. “He had drugged me with a substance mixed with aether rendering me unable to move. If his right hand man hadn’t shown up when he did...then he would have--” You nearly throw up again, having to keep the bile down as your body breaks out in a cold sweat.

“You don’t have to talk about this.” Merlwyb consoles, rubbing your back gently.

“No. Because I need to...I need to explain.” You sigh, feeling weary already. “What I’m trying to say is, Varis only tried to force himself on me before he locked me away. And...if my math is right, I should be a month or two along.” Placing a hand on your stomach, you rub it gently. “It’s not his.”

A mix of relief and worry passes through Merlwyb’s face, standing to her feet. “Thank the Twelve it isn’t so. I must tell Cid,”

“It’s Zenos’.” you cut off before she can even leave your side.

She stops in place immediately, shocked by your words as much as you are having said them. To put out in the universe you are carrying the child of someone you once thought a monster.

“Honey…” she whispers, sitting by your side once more. “Honey, did he,”

Shaking your head furiously, you refuse to meet her surely judgemental gaze. “No. I...it was consensual. Multiple times. I…” swallowing your fear, you press on. “I was so stressed from working for Varis, my health suffered. I stopped taking supplements, vitamins, and my birth control. I had met with Zenos that day when Raubahn died and one thing led to another.”

As tears leak from your eyes as you finally give voice to your shame, you still cannot bear to face her scorn. “I tried to hate him. I tried to hate him for so long, but he…” you sob, wiping furiously at your tears, “he’s the only one that understands me. The only one who’s strong enough, the only one who makes me happy. I didn’t even blink when Varis told me I was pregnant with his kid, I didn’t even feel sad. How fucked up am I for falling for him?!” You laugh, the sound broken and mangled. “I’m a failure to the mission, Raubahn would be ashamed--”

Merlwyb crushes you in her arms, ceasing your downward spiral. She says nothing, merely holding you tightly as your tears catch in her shirt, clutching you tight as she buries her face in your hair. “Honey...no matter what I better not hear such self deprecating language from you ever again.” She whispers, stroking your head softly. “Raubahn would be proud. You’ve survived. You are alive. And that’s all we ever wanted. For you to come home.”

“But I--”

“No ‘buts’.” She interjects, pulling away to give you the stern look you had known her for. “Not to throw him under the bus, but Cid had already filled me in on your entanglement with his bodyguard and Zenos respectively. I can’t lie that at first I was alarmed, but when he recounted all the trauma he had known you had gone through, how he could see you warp and change...I could not think to hold it against you. And neither would Raubahn.”

You weep thankful tears at her words, a weight lifted from your shoulders at her comfort. You embrace each other once more, wrapping yourself in the comfort of simply being held, knowing you both have been through the wringer these past few days.

Merlwyb notices your eyes begin to droop, promising to see you again when you wake up next. She would go off to find Cid and relay what you had told her in a calmer, less emotional fashion, sparing you the risk of potentially triggering yourself. You allow yourself a few more hours rest, drifting thoughtlessly as you have the most restful sleep you had in what had apparently been weeks.

Two weeks had Varis managed to stow you away, Cid and Merlwyb knowing something was wrong when they hadn’t heard hide or hair of you in two days. The phone Cid had given you had been confiscated and destroyed, giving them no idea on how to find you. They had been sick with worry with no way to find out what happened until Zenos had showed up on Cid’s doorstep in the dead of night, demanding that you be saved. Cid had immediately called for his personal doctor to begin treating you, bringing you to the present.

Even while you rest, your thoughts are too tumultuous to let you sleep long, the steady drip of your IV and the light buzz of the alarm clock on your nightstand your only companions when you wake. It is a few hours past midnight, the mansion quiet, but in a good way unlike the Galvus estate. There’s just enough white noise in the halls that gives a comfortable ambience, a home that is lived in, prompting you to drag yourself out of bed and into some slippers to walk a bit to maybe tire your mind a bit to go back to sleep.

Forced to drag your IV pump around with you, you shuffle down the hall, enjoying the peace as you let your feet aimlessly wander. Though you know Cid was prone to all nighters if he was knee deep in a project, something tells you he’s fast asleep. Making your way downstairs you enjoy the calm of his mansion at night, slipping past the many doors as you struggle to not bump your shin into any unsuspecting furniture.

As you pass through the living room, you hear grunting, looking through one of the many floor to ceiling windows to spot Zenos outside, running through his practice routines. His golden hair now looks to be made of spun ivory under the moonlight, muscles flexing with every movement as he swings his sword through the air. Each strike is precise, measured as he hones his skill, a fierce determination on his face as he snarls his frustration.

Heading to the sliding door, you gently push it open, the warm night air soothing you instantly as you stand in the doorway, watching him quietly. You’re surprised he’s yet to notice your presence, too focused on whatever he’s thinking about to catch you watching him. Leaning against the doorframe, you’re content to watch how his body flows effortlessly through each stance, dressed in his usual workout attire, clinging to him like a second skin.

It is only when he spins does he take note of you at the door, uncharacteristically startled before a shadow of guilt darkens his features. Frowning, you move to join him in the yard only for him to give you a look that promises retribution if you move from your spot at the door. “What are you doing here?”

Tutting, you stand up straight. “From what I heard, you brought me here.”

“That’s not what I,” he pauses, turning away from you for a moment. “I meant what are you doing outside? You should be inside, resting.”

“I was trying,” you grumble, stepping out onto the manicured grass, dragging the IV pump along uneven ground. He turns to you once more, unable to meet your eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, probably because I had spent the past two weeks being made to sleep. My body’s quite sick of it, I think.” You joke lightly, coming to stand before him.

He still won’t meet your gaze, which is strange in and of itself. Creeping closer, he shifts away and you frown, trying to peek under his fringe of hair. “Zenos? What’s the matter?” you ask, reaching out for his hand but he jerks it away.

“What do you want?” he snarls, eyes furious. Though you begin to get angry, you take a step back and look at the situation. Though your memories are hazy, you can remember his desperation to get you out of that facility. His worry at seeing you look so frail and weak. The guilt you had seen once he had realized you were there--

He was scared.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you can’t help but laugh a little at how he casts his sword to the ground while reaching to catch you in the same motion, uncaring of where his blade ends up. “I’m not dying, Zenos. I’m not falling apart.” you sigh wistfully, motioning to the ground for him to sit next to you.

Pursing his lips, he seems to debate between picking you up and carrying you back inside, versus giving into your whims. “You’ve not seen the horrors of my father’s experiments.” He answers instead, lowering himself to the cool grass to your side, one knee bent with the other leg extended before him. You relish in his slight intake of breath as you shuffle to be closer to him, leaning upon his warmth. It’s not too cool out, but the furnace that is his body isn’t unpleasant. “But I suppose for that, I am thankful.”

“I’ve not. And I’m glad I didn’t.” you murmur, relaxing immediately from his presence alone.

The two of you are quiet, Zenos stiff as if he does not know what to do with this nearness from you. “I...I’m glad I had found you in the condition I had. I had feared the worst.” he admits, which coming from him, is no small feat.

Gazing up at the moon, you rest your weight fully upon him, his arm naturally coming to support you and hold you close, almost as if on instinct. His hand seems unsure where to place itself, so you help by gently coaxing it to sling around your waist, linking your fingers with his. “He had told me so many horrible things. He told me how awfully he would treat you.” you murmur, satisfied to stay just like this.

“What did he tell you?”

His voice is guarded, cornered. Scared.

“He told me...that he forced himself on your mother.” You answer, unable to look him in the face.

He tenses then, skin heating before you tighten your grip on his hand, hearing his deep breaths behind you as he calms himself down. “The story the public knows is that my mother passed away due to sickness. Only a select few know the truth.” His voice is far away, distant, as if lost within a nightmare. “After all, it’s not really palatable to have it leak out that your father had threatened to have your mother killed if she tried to run. That when she felt she had no option left, she had killed herself.”

Gasping, you turn in his arms to look at him, finding nothing but an emotionless gaze staring back. You can see the truth in his eyes, a pain so guarded and so deep that you wonder if this is the first time he’s told anyone else. “Zenos,”

“After all, wouldn’t you do the same? Would you not burst into hysterics upon looking at the child you not only had forced upon you, but were also forced to bear?” he laughs humorlessly, as if the joke is tired and worn out, the punchline having lost its kick.

You wonder if he can hear your heart breaking.

“Zenos,” you whisper carefully, reaching with both hands to cup his face, feeling its warmth but a cold expression is all you get in return.

“I do not need your pity.” he snips, though he makes no move to push you away. “I’ve had my share of it. And for what? It would not bring my mother back. Not that she would want to stay anyway. Not when she gave birth to a monster.”

Tears pool in your eyes at his words, wondering how much he had of this locked up inside, and for how long?

How long had he not known love?

One of his hands reaches up to dab at a tear trailing down your cheek, frowning as he does so. “Why do you cry? I told you I didn’t want your pity.”

“I’m crying for you.” You murmur, turning in his hold to be on your knees, crowding closer to where he parts his legs more to give you room to sit between them. “Because you’ve not had the chance to do it for yourself.”

His lips part at that, emotions of all kinds warring on his face before he settles on anger. “You are a fool if you think that would change things.”

“I’m not trying to change things you idiot!” you whisper harshly, not wanting to yell and potentially wake anyone up. “You come and save me from being experimented upon by your father until I die and you don’t want me to show you I’m at least a little grateful? When I had started to believe that no one would come for me and you carried me out in your arms?”

“Sweet words won’t excuse your cowardice.” he growls, trying to pull away. “That even after you apologized, you had gone running back into my father’s arms.”

“For you!” You snap, clutching his face desperately.

Confused, he shakes his head. “What do you--”

“You think I would go back to the asshole willingly?” you seethe, begging him to understand. “That me, a cop, would want anything to do with his desire to be a dictator? To remember the good ole days of imperial rule?” Despite your earlier reservations, you raise your voice with every question. “Do you know how much it hurt to be apart from you? To see the betrayal in your eyes as I left your side for no other reason than to try and take your father down so you would be free from his influence? To fall for you--”

Your words catch in your throat, unable to take them back. The two of you only stare at one another, wide eyed and frozen as your unsaid words hang between you, wishing you could simply disappear. Zenos is solid as a board and your heart sinks, releasing his face as you begin to stand. “I should get back inside,”

He pulls you back to him forcefully, not letting you flee back to the safety of your room. You try to tug away but you’re still too weak to fight against his might, huffing and puffing for him to release you as you try to run from the shame of your actions. “Let go of me,” you whine, resisting his touch as he wraps his arm around you like a vice, refusing to let you go anywhere.

The rough pads of his fingers urge you to face him as you squirm in his arms, not wanting to face him, to face your feelings. “Honey.” He breathes, finally getting you at a suitable angle to press his lips to yours, ashamed at how easily you melt in his arms. He deepens the kiss, full of all the passion, the emotion you now know he’s capable of, threading his fingers into your hair as you rest your hands upon his chest before looping around his shoulders.

The kiss is all passion, all affection, all possession as your tongues dance together, as teeth nibble each other's lips, as you breathe each other's air. You fall into him just as easily as you did the first time, wondering how on earth did you get here? It is only when he feels you crying again does he pull apart, dabbing gently at your tears with an indescribable emotion upon his angelic features.

“You would run because you’re afraid of what you feel for me?” he asks, holding you as if you were made of the most delicate glass. The same man who had no problem flipping you over his back, grappling you like a wrestler, was now cradling you as if you were the most important thing in the world to him. “I have never run from how I feel for you, even if I cannot understand it. I have only wanted you. It can only be you.”

“You don’t get it!” You sob, pounding your fists on his chest. “I love you, you idiot! I was sent to try and take you and your father down and look where I am! I fell for you instead, I’m having your ch--” you stop yourself once again, afraid of what he would possibly think.

“I do not know love but I do know I would have no other. Is that not good enough?” he asks, desperate to understand, and Twelve above you wish he did. Perhaps he loves you in his own way, but there’s so much of him that needs healing, so many bad habits he needs to break before you could truly be by his side. It occurs to you only now that you looked at him through rose-tinted glasses, seeing nothing but the happiness he brought you, and you alone.

A child brings new questions into the mix.

Would he treat the child the same way he treated you? Would he fall into the bad habits of his father, having no good example of how to be a parent? Continuing a cycle of abuse because he had never known love? Would he train that child for the sole purpose of becoming stronger, unsatisfied until either of them fell in battle?

Deep down you knew you were being foolish, but fear overcame reason as you kept your eyes shut tight, crying against his chest as he held you. It was such an irrational fear, one you were completely self aware of, but that did not stop you from crying, nor did it stop you from falling into his embrace as he kissed you once more.

You are no stranger to Zenos’ touch, though you are a stranger to how gently he treats you as you recover from being detained by Varis. Only with your permission do you allow him to visit, except visitation is not satisfactory. He all but moves into your room, seeing to your needs during the day until he goes about his own business before returning to you at night. He’s always there to bring you your meals, sitting in comfortable silence or making light conversation, making you remember just how much you loved him, until he reminded you just how much you needed to run away when this was all over.

You only wish he knew how hard he was making it for you.

There wasn’t a need of yours that wasn’t seen to by Zenos personally. Whatever you wanted to eat, he went and got it. If you wanted to walk around, he was the one to pull your IV pump along, leaving you free to simply stretch your legs. From fluffing your pillow to simply being a warm body to hold at night, there was nothing he would not do for your sake.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

As you recuperated and strength once again flowed through your limbs, he turned into your physical therapist, helping you stretch your muscles and make you limber enough to fight again. He would only spar lightly at your request, making you feign exhaustion so he didn’t feel angry for making himself hold back. Naturally you made sure to avoid all blows to your abdominal area, flowing like water around his strikes, taking a more defensive approach, which you thought would make him angry.

It had the opposite effect. It seemed to only make him want you more, pursuing you like a man possessed, fucking you into the floor until your voice was hoarse from crying out his name.

This is how I got here in the first place, you grumble to yourself, walking with him to meet up with Cid and Merlwyb on another part of the estate. There was hardly a day he was not by your side, something you did not mind after spending so long apart, but you began to think it strange considering the circumstances. Varis had to be wondering where he was. But if Zenos was not worried, you figured you shouldn’t be either.

Reaching the conference room turned “briefing room”, you give a small wave to Cid and Merlwyb who greet you in return. “You’re looking better by the day, Honey. I’m glad to see you’re making a recovery.” Cid welcomes, standing from his chair to come give you a hug. You return it with equal measure, glad to have people on your side. “Please sit. We haven’t been waiting long.”

Nodding, you pull a chair out from the table, not at all surprised as Zenos takes a seat in the one directly next to you. “I’m sorry to delay everything for so long.”

“Your recovery was paramount, Honey.” Merlwyb speaks up, giving you a serious look. “You have shouldered so much of this upon your back. There is no way we could ask you to put your life on the line anymore than we already have.”

“But I want to. I want to take him down.” You insist, refusing to take no for an answer. Merlwyb looks ready to argue but Cid quickly interjects, physically leaning between the two of you.

“Easy there, ladies. We’ve got a common goal, and let’s just look at the facts before we start making plans.” Cid offers in the interest of neutrality, slowly sitting back down in his chair. “We’ve got quite a bit of information to catch Honey up on anyway.” He sighs, reaching for a remote and turning on the mounted TV. The screen is paused with Varis’ face on it, a news ticker reading “Varis Unveils Revolutionary Technology”, your heart immediately sinking.

“This has been on the news for nearly two weeks. Yes, it’s exactly what you’re thinking. Varis has revealed his ‘discovery’ of aether upon your capture.” Cid grounds out, clicking on the remote to start the clip. It is silent, but the clip continues to play, allowing Cid to speak. “It’s been a nightmare since. I’ve been called by more news outlets than I care to remember asking for my response.”

Sadness creeps into his features as he watches the TV with a forlorn expression. “As I had told you, my father’s laboratory had burned down, leaving me with no physical proof that it was he who originally discovered aether. All I have is my word against his ‘proof’.” Banging his fist against the table, he runs his hands through his hair. “It’s infuriating.”

Clicking the remote a different press conference plays on the TV, Varis showing off different bits of technology powered by aether. "He's got the public in the palm of his hand. Everyone's dazzled by the power of aether, but of course only we know the truth. We know that aether is not to be messed with, that it is dangerous and more powerful than we could possibly comprehend." Cid explains, tapping his fingers against the table. "I've considered trying to make my own sample, to show what a volatile resource it is…"

"We already discussed this Cid. Absolutely not." Merlwyb interjects. Their interaction comes as a slight surprise. Merlwyb was Cid’s senior by barely a decade, but within the past month they became fast friends. "Varis has already tried to take your life once and is already so sure of his victory that he's content to leave you alone for now. Let's not give him reason to try and take you out."

Nodding grimly, Cid turns back to you. "As you can see, we've got our hands tied. Varis is, if anything thorough, making it hard to plan any sort of move. We're running out of time."

Gnawing your lip, you find yourself focusing on what Merlwyb had said. "If...do you think he would try and target Lord Hien?" The room is completely silent, and you don’t know if it’s because they find the notion preposterous, or they wonder how the thought has never crossed their mind. “I mean, clearly Varis has to think he’s nigh untouchable now. He’s attempted to kill Cid once without facing any consequences. He successfully killed Raubahn and forced Merlwyb into hiding. Don’t you think…?”

Cid drags his hands over his face, heaving out a dry laugh. “Nymeia save me, I think you might be onto something.”

“But Cid, why would he need to kill Hien? The election is so close, he’s already done so much to make himself look like the ideal candidate. What more could killing Hien do for him?” Merlwyb questions, posing some good points.

“An easy win.”

The three of you turn to Zenos who has remained uncharacteristically quiet this entire exchange. “Honey has been around my father long enough by now to understand how he thinks. However, as his son,” he grounds out, “I have intimate knowledge of how his mind works.” Shifting in his seat, he sighs. “Before he had stopped telling me of his plans, he thought himself untouchable; he had evaded you all for decades.” He explains, looking pointedly at Merlwyb before his gaze shifts to Cid. “And the only one who could ever bring any evidence against him had no physical proof, nor the courage to say anything.”

Giving a frustrated sigh, Cid turns once again to the TV. “I can’t deny that. My own cowardice has allowed this to go on for as long as it has.” Cid murmurs, fidgeting with the remote in his hand.

“And if he were to kill Hien, who could stop him?” Zenos asks, glancing around the table. “The Chief has been killed, and the only other ‘good cop’ remains hidden for her own safety. Who is next in command to take Raubahn Aldynn’s place?”

You gasp, turning to Zenos. “Ilberd.”

Shrugging, the heir goes back to looking bored once again. “With his longtime supporter at the head of police, it would be no problem to have Hien’s death look like nothing more than an accident even if he shot him point blank on national television.”

“Twelve above…” Merlwyb whispers, burying her face in her hand. “Decades worth of planning. Decades worth of moves. I had always suspected Ilberd, but on this large a scale…” Gasping, her eyes widened in horror. “By the Twelve, he has the entire police force under his control. If he wins the seat, he would have an entire army--”

The room is silent once again, the three of you processing the scope of Varis’ plans. When he boasted of his intellect, you had thought little of it, knowing that like any businessman he was educated, but to be so thorough, to make the right connections, to plan this far ahead…

Clenching your fist, you stand to your feet. “We have to save Lord Hien.”

“I don’t disagree, but--”

“But what, Chief Merlwyb? I refuse to have another person die because of that bastard!” Your chest is heaving, Cid looking surprised at your outburst while Merlwyb maintains her composure, giving you a knowing look.

“Honey, please calm down.” She urges, reaching across the table to place her hand atop of your own. Something silent passes between the two of you and you take a few calming breaths, sitting back in your seat. “If you will allow me to finish, what I was trying to say is that this is not something we can go into guns blazing. We are dealing with a man who knows how to run circles around the law; this I know well. We will have to make a plan that is fool proof and draws no attention to us.” Her eyes turn to the heir sitting by your side. “Especially now that we’ve got his son on our side.”

At that Zenos fixes Merlwyb with a hot glare. “And where did you get the notion that I would be assisting you in any way, shape, or form?” Zenos asks, his voice even and neutral, but you can see the rage within his eyes.

“If you are not helping us, then why have you stayed here, Zenos?” Cid asks sternly.

“Is it not obvious?” Zenos scoffs, eyes upon you. “My only focus has been, and always will be Honey. But even then…” Something haunting passes through his eyes, seeming far away before coming back to the present. “...even then I could not aid you. I cannot go against my father, but I will no longer aid him either.” Standing to his feet, he prepares to leave but you snag his hand, giving him a pleading look.

“Zenos...I,” you begin, unsure what to say. “We could use your help.”

Shaking his head, he tugs his hand free and continues on his way, saying nothing else. Your heart breaks that much more to see him go.

Stewing in your thoughts a bit, you find yourself a bit hurt at Zenos’ refusal to take down his father, but try to think about it calmly. Given what he revealed to you, that his own mother did not want him, saw him as a monster, who knows what psychological damage had been done to him to make him unwilling to raise a hand against his father?

You’d make a point to ask him about it later, but for the time being, you needed to make a plan. “We’ll have to carry on without Zenos. He’s not against us, which is almost the same as being on our side. Trust me...if Zenos did truly serve his father and Varis had kept me hidden, the only being who can take Zenos down, Varis truly would be unstoppable.” Cid and Merlwyb nod grimly at your words, having no other choice. “Do we have any way of contacting Lord Hien?”

“I have his number due to working with him for the...rally. The only problem is he’s surely seen my funeral and thinks me dead.” Merlwyb answers, flipping through her phone.

“In that case, perhaps Cid can give a call, especially since he has the technology to make sure it isn’t tampered with.” You direct, having taken the lead. “We’ll call Lord Hien and apprise him of as much information as we can. If I have to go in and make the rescue myself, then so be it.”

“Absolutely not.” Cid interjects, eyebrows pinched together. “I will not have you shouldering this entire operation again. Besides, if you’re not familiar with Lord Hien, he’s got an excellent shadow of his own I hear. Yugiri, I believe her name is. What she lacks in your sheer strength she more than makes up for in stealth. In fact, she just might be our ticket to get Lord Hien to safety.”

Unfortunately, Lord Hien has other plans.

Cid contacts Hien as promised, relaying as much information in as little time as possible. Lord Hien expresses his concern and guilt for the recent happenings, and due to the credibility of your accusations, hears you out.

However, he will not escape.

“But Lord Hien,”

The three of you are seated in the same conference room, staring at the TV screen where current Kugane Prime Minister, Lord Hien sits staring back.

“I understand your concern, Mr. Garlond,” Hien pauses, handsome face deadly serious. “But this would be a terrible time to abandon the public. I would go as far to say that my sudden disappearance would only usher Varis into his seat faster.”

Biting your lip, you can’t deny he’s right, but still you worry. “But we can’t let him get to you either!”

“Do not worry for me, my friends.” Hien smiles, as if all will be well. “I did not say I won’t take safety measures. I will remain out of the public eye, and stay hidden with those who I know are loyal to me. These past few years as Prime Minister have allowed me the opportunity to gain many allies.” Hien explains calmly, pausing to take a sip of water. “This will also allow me to help you behind the scenes as well.”

“While we appreciate your aid, Lord Hien, this entire operation is contingent on you living. Will you not reconsider coming into our custody where we know we can protect you?” Merlwyb asks, sounding as strong as ever.

“The operation does not revolve around me, my friends. It revolves around Varis atoning for the crimes he has committed against the people.” Hien frowns, threading his hands together. “He has murdered civilians he is desperate to rule over. Lied and stolen from his constituents. While Kugane needs a good leader, yes, it does not have to be me.” Smiling, something about him makes you wish you knew that kind of calm. “While I appreciate that you want me to remain in my seat, what matters most is his crimes coming to light and being locked away for what he’s done.”

Unable to argue against that kind of logic, you merely stand from your seat. “I understand. I need a moment of rest, so if you will excuse me.”

Not stopping to hear what anyone has to say, you flee from the room, allowing your feet to carry you anywhere within the estate.

Lord Hien either put too much faith in you, or he was a fool.

His certainty that all would be well, that things would work out, where did it come from? You could see his appeal, a confident, easy going charisma backed by an unwavering sense of justice, of doing right by the people. All the things that Varis lacked, that would make Hien the ideal candidate for Kugane.

But he was right. No matter how ideal he was, what mattered most was making sure Varis did not come into power. Even if it meant Hien somehow died in the process.

It was a tough pill to swallow, that Lord Hien was so okay with being a willing target so long as Varis was brought to justice. It made you feel as if his life was in your hands, a deeper part of you whispering to trust in his words, that he would do his best to keep himself safe.

Coming to a stop to a door leading outside, you step out into warm, summer air, feeling the grass between your toes. Days like these did wonder for your mood, making sure you made a point to keep as much stress off of you as possible. With everything going on, it was hard to do, but Merlwyb had aided in that department, making sure you kept your temper in check for the sake of the child growing inside of you.

The thought of getting rid of it had occurred to you more than once, to simply rid yourself of all the “what ifs” and “maybes” and be done with it. But each time you did, you found yourself weakened by the thought of being able to give your child everything you didn’t have. To raise her with the same love and adoration in which Minfilia had raised you.

When this was all said and done, you would have plenty of time to make your escape. Perhaps you would flee to Eorzea, make a new life and name for yourself there. You doubt Zenos would care enough to spend time to track you down on another continent, making it the ideal place to start anew. You could get a new home. You could find a new job.

You could continue running away from the best thing to ever happen to you.

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 5: Matter of Fact

“I think,” Esredes said as he set his wine glass down, “that you are absolutely absurd in your reasoning. Why is it that people like you can never see the folly, the pretentious sense of boring in your philosophies? Is your world really so small and uninteresting that you can’t find any meaning in existence for yourself?” Perhaps he was about to regret all the things he was about to say, but this was the sort of person who pissed him off the most. Not that he expected anything better from the random sorts of people you got out of bar-side conversations, but really, who did these people think they were, even under the influence of alcohol? “I think there is reason in mild cynicism, but the extent to which you insist that there is no inherent morality and meaning in what I do- you realize that sitting there and declaring that there is no right or wrong, that the other side of a conflict believes they are correct too, doesn’t make you enlightened, right? No fucking shit, morality is a concept of the mind, not a physical thing. It doesn’t mean that both, or one side of the conflict, is automatically wrong and pointless for trying. The Garleans are out there experimenting on people and conquering territory that doesn’t belong to them, people are sacrificing their lives to put an end to this- and you think that all of this is meaningless because all it is is senseless violence? No. It’s not senseless. The only senseless one is you for trivializing all the suffering that these people have gone through, and will continue to go through, just so you can feel smart by reducing the world to its basic components.” He put a hand up to the man so he could pause to take a sip of his wine, then continued. “I can tell how insecure you are. It’s always the same. You haven’t put in the effort, or you have stopped trying because you were burnt, to find meaning in your own life. You’re convinced it’s all pointless because there is great evil in the world. No fucking shit there is. Should we all just lie down and die then, never bother to fight back for the things that matter? Even if you were to boil the world down to a cyclical nature, that doesn’t make efforts to better it inherently meaningless. A mess happens, you clean it up. You don’t just leave it there because another one will inevitably occur. It’s really not a hard line of logic to understand. You simply don’t know how to find meaning in things.” He took another sip. “I’ll go even further and guess that you are a type two personality. What I mean by that, is you are self centered in its most basic, primitive form. As long as you and everyone you care about are looked out for, you don’t really care what happens to anyone else, do you? The world could be on fire and you wouldn’t care if your loved ones were safe, as if it even matters at that point. Or maybe I am being generous. Maybe you just don’t care about anyone, maybe not even yourself. Regardless, I would like to inform you that other people matter in this world even if you don’t give a shit. You cannot just reduce all of the people in the world who have found beautiful, meaningful things through their existence to nothing just to fit your half-baked philosophy and your anger. There is always something to try for, to believe in, to be doing. Otherwise, life would all be as incredibly boring as yours is.” Esredes took another sip of his wine. “I think I have said enough on the matter. Come back to me if you ever find a way to make something out of your worthless existence, and I will actually be interested in what you have to say. As is, I don’t need to stand here and listen to the verbal equivalent of nothing. Take care and have a good night." With that, Esredes made his exit from the Knight. Nihilists, he thought to himself. Optimists were fine if they didn’t overdo it. Cynics were either annoying, or understandable in some cases. But these people who wanted to be so fundamentally devoid of meaning? They were beyond him.  Why are people so stupid? Esredes had to ponder as he went home, that age old question he seemed to echo at least four times a day.  And like every other time he asked that question, he would not find a satisfying answer.

[cath-with-a-c]

Believer

Pairing: mild ShaunDes Wordcount: ~3500 words

Summary:  Minerva stops Desmond from getting to the Eye. Desmond finds another way to fulfill his role. AN: I wrote this on a whim, physics? What physics. Proceed with caution.

ao3 link

The moment the key they fought so hard to get, touches the wall, Desmond feels that something is really, really wrong. The sense is overwhelming, and his stomach drops when a figure appears behind the barrier.

“Minerva, what the fuck?!” he demands angrily, terror tearing down his spine. The Isu just looks at him, and, if he squints, he can picture a little sympathy in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Desmond. I cannot let you do this,” she says and her voice, muffled by the shimmering wall, is as flat as ever. “If you touch the pedestal, Juno will be set free, and I cannot allow that.”

No. No-no-no- “And if I don’t, everyone will fucking die, you dimwitted ghost!” Desmond doesn’t care that he is yelling hysterically, he can almost feel the time running out. “Let me through!!!”

Minerva regards him impassively as if he is a screaming toddler. “Some will survive. The human race will thrive again, free and unburdened by past mistakes,” she gives him a slightly irritated look. “You should be grateful - your life would be spared.”

Desmond wants to screech, to tear through the barrier and into the Isu, to shake her until she understands. “I don’t want it!” he replies barely managing to keep his voice more or less even. “Not like this, not by killing everyone else! Seven billion lives, Minerva!”

The woman just gives him another unimpressed look. “It is decided, Desmond Miles. This is the better way,” she says. “The barrier stays.”

And with that disappears, leaving Desmond speechless, gaping at the shimmering wall in front of him. The now-useless key hits the stone floor. Desmond turns slowly, to find everyone else staring at him with the same horror they probably see on his face.

Desmond feels numb. The fight drains out of him as if a plug is pulled.

It was all for nothing.

“How long till the Flare hits?” he asks, throat sore from screaming, and refuses to look anyone in the eye.

It’s Rebecca who answers him. “Three hours, tops,” her tone is quiet and flat, she is pale as a ghost. Desmond nods slowly.

“Can we at least try getting anyone to safety, Dad?” another almost pointless question.

William shrugs, shoulders slumped. He looks uncharacteristically disheveled and almost lost. “I’ll call everyone, three hours is enough to find some shelter,” there is no certainty to his answer.

Desmond gives another nod. It’s probably the best they can do. What else is there to do?

After they’ve done packing and moving stuff deeper into the Temple (pointless shifting things around, but still better than to sit and wait on the impending doom), and Dad returns after making every single call possible, Desmond strides to the exit, muttering a generic excuse about getting some fresh air.

Everything seems so... normal. The life is about to get toasted off the surface of the earth, and it still is a normal day outside, if maybe a little warm. Desmond breathes in and out and just stays, a few feet away from the cave entrance, all but unable to move. He doesn’t want to move.

He’d failed.

Someone approaches him, stands close, their shoulders brushing, and Desmond inhales the familiar mix of coffee and mint and old paper. Shaun.

“It’s not your fault,” he says softly, and Desmond leans on his shoulder letting their fingers tangle.

“Isn’t it?” he replies a bit bitterly and then sighs, as Shaun opens his mouth to argue. “I know, I know. You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, you stupid git” Shaun shoots right back, like everything is a-okay, and his hand is warm, and Desmond can’t help but smile a little at the weird normalcy of this.

They stay like that for some time, watching the horizon, that gets a slight reddish tint. Talking seems redundant, what is there to talk about?

“You know what,” Shaun says suddenly. “For what it’s worth, I think I’ll enjoy spending however much time we’re gonna get after this with you.”

Desmond wants to answer him but his throat suddenly closes, and he can’t breathe, and he just wants to scream, because the world is ending for everyone else, and the radiation after will probably kill them really fast, and he just wants to do something-

“Hey,” Shaun gently cups the side of his face, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Desmond, look at me.”

Desmond looks. Shaun’s eyes are red-rimmed behind the glasses, and still the most beautiful sight Desmond has ever seen.

“I know it hurts like hell, and I am sorry, but there’s nothing we can do,” Shaun says and his voice is firm and unwavering and is a singular solid thing in the whirlwind of Desmond’s mind. “We can’t stop the Flare, we can’t wish it away, we can’t run from it to the Alpha Centauri. It’s happening and it’s happening now. But we’re going to get through it. You get me?”

Desmond wants to ask how he can be so calm, when a thought strikes him like a lightning. A stupid thought. “Yes,” he says, pushing it away for a moment and pressing into Shaun’s palm, all but melting into the touch, savoring the contrast of the cool air and Shaun’s warm fingers. “We are going to get through this. Together.”

Shaun’s lips curl up in a semblance of a smile. “Damn right,” he says and Desmond leans forward, briefly pressing their lips together, like it can soothe the burning aftertaste of the lie.

When they break up, Shaun leans in, pressing his forehead to Desmond’s, and he can’t help but just look at him, knowing it’s the last time he sees that stupidly beautiful face.

Desmond doesn’t want to let go. Ever.

“I’ll be down in a bit,” he whispers, leaning away and giving the skies a sidelong glance. “Just need a few more moments.”

Shaun smiles sadly. “Sure,” he nods and pokes Desmond in the chest. “Don’t stay out too long, you’ll get a heatstroke.”

At that, Desmond can’t help but chuckle. “Lame!” he calls at Shaun’s retreating back and the historian flashes him a bird.

Desmond watches him disappear in the mouth of the cave, before looking around again. The air is hot enough that the snow melts, the forest turning from whitish to evergreen again, and Desmond breathes in the smell of pines and humid moss, and his heart is racing.

The Apple in his hand gives a slight static sound as he pulls it out of the pocket and squeezes, focusing. A moment later, his own doppelganger appears from the strings of golden light and looks at him expectantly.

“Go after Shaun,” Desmond commands aloud. He doesn’t have to, but it just feels right. He slips his phone in the other’s hand. “Behave naturally, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Not-him nods and heads for the entrance, but before he is gone, Desmond calls after him.

“Tell them I’m sorry before you disappear,” he says, as his chest constricts painfully. He wishes he could be with them, just as Shaun said.

But he can’t.

The doppelganger gives him an almost pitying look and nods again, fading into the darkness. Desmond closes the cave with the Apple and starts walking away. They can open it from the inside in time, but for now, he can’t risk his only family getting hurt.

He manages a few hundred yards into the forest before coming across a clearing and stops. That would do just as nicely as anything else. Stomach heavy, Desmond looks at the sky.

It is now creepily reddish, like in a light-polluted city at night, sparse clouds molten-orange. The sun just above the horizon looks bigger, edges loose, jagged. And it gets brighter.

He has minutes.

After a moment of hesitation, Desmond takes the Apple out of his pocket again and looks at it for a long moment. The air around him gets a little hotter by the second, and the dry wind ruffles his hair. Desmond desperately doesn’t want to be alone, not right now, so he wills another doppelganger to life.

“You are an idiot, you know that?” a familiar voice that’s definitely not his own, asks him, and Desmond opens his eyes again.

“Sixt- Clay?” he corrects himself, which earns him a scoff. “How are you even-”

Clay looks almost apologetic. “Well, Seventeen, I hitched a ride in that big head of yours -- so much empty space, you really should have done something about that-” Desmond can’t help but laugh a little at the ridiculousness of it all, and Clay gives him a little smirk. “-and I guess the Apple decided that if you summon the same guy, it’s technically still alone, so here I am.”

Desmond sighs. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, and that’s not a lie. “Y’know what I’m about to do?”

“Something monumentally stupid,” Clay supplies helpfully with a shrug, and Desmond smirks sardonically, even if it’s really strained.

Shaun’s words sparked that idea, stupid and incredibly unrealistic as it was, it was still a sliver of a chance. A tiny, almost nonexistent sliver.

“Wish it away,” he had said, and Desmond thought of the Apple, of how Juno had shown that it was used to make people wish things into existence. She did say they couldn’t create a shield, but Desmond wasn’t after the shield. He wasn’t about to protect the whole planet single-handedly -- or single-mindedly.

But what if he could reduce the Flare? Maybe not by much, maybe just a little, maybe up the survival count from ten thousand to say fifteen or twenty? A drop in the ocean now, but it could change so much for the future of the human race in the long run.

Desmond wasn’t about to let this chance go to waste.

And all he has to do is use the Apple and believe. Believe that he can withstand the Flare, believe that he can focus it on him, until everything he is would be reduced to less than atoms, to electrons, protons and neutrons, and that would be enough to save some people.

He never was much of a believer, yet here he is.

“You can still go back,” Clay says softly. “There is just enough time for you to run back into the Temple before it hits.”

Desmond looks at him and smiles. He is shaking a little, but it’s genuine. “Yeah, I know,” he shrugs and grips the Apple tighter. The air around them is almost painfully hot and orange-red. The end of the fucking world. “But that’s not why I’m out here.”

Clay smiles back at him. “You’re such an idiot, Seventeen,” he says, shaking his head.

“What else is new?” Desmond chuckles and lifts the Apple up, towards the bright, flaming sky. “Don’t go just yet,” slips out of his mouth, as embarrassing as it is.

“Have nowhere else to be,” Clay steps a bit closer. ”Good luck, Desmond.”

Desmond closes his eyes and wills himself to believe. To forget everything else, to put everyone out of his mind, no doubts, no attachment, just his belief in himself and the might of his blood, genes, whatever made him that special snowflake Juno needed. He knows enough to be aware, that it’s impossible, but hey, wishing a tree or a wall into existence wasn’t supposed to be possible either, and that didn’t stop the Isu.

The Apple in his hand makes a tiny melodic sound, sending a power surge down his hand, and that’s the last thing Desmond hears before the Flare comes crashing down on him like a tidal wave of what feels like pure fire, roaring in his ears and drowning out everything else.

He doesn’t die immediately. There is a searing pain tearing his body apart, but he doesn’t die, and that makes hope bloom in his chest. He is alive, it’s working! Desmond grits his teeth, willing himself to believe, to become nothing but a beacon of unchallenged will.

It’s like something breaks, something that was holding him back, and Desmond takes one hard, labored breath that burns him from inside out and soars.

He is everything. He is the ground, charing under the relentless heat, he is the stones, the vapor streaming up, he is the sunlight and the burning trees. He is the earth, and the air and the skies. He is cities and mountains, animals and plants.

He is people. He is amongst a group of assassins, watching the roof of the shelter with bated breaths, he is a little boy, no older than seven, looking at the metro ceiling through the pitch-dark curly fringe with confusion. “You will live through this, buddy,” Desmond thinks affectionately before the image of the boy fades.

He is inside the Temple, and it’s alight with energy, sparks and flairs running up and down walls in a continuous stream of gold and blue, and he sees his dad, and Shaun and Becca watching the show with shadows dancing over their faces, making everything surreal.

He is everywhere. He is everywhen. He is Altair, seeing the map of the whole world for the first time, he is Ezio taking his first Leap of Faith, he is Connor looking at the night sky from the Homestead roof, he is Haytham watching the horizon on the bow of the ship, he is Edward, lying ashore, laughing and coughing up water after almost drowning, he is Flavia running across the rooftops of Firenze, he is Sef sparring with Darim, he is-

The Apple in Desmond’s hand starts to give way. He gives in too, bit by bit, clothes and hair burning, skin bubbling and sizzling, and chipping away, and he breaks apart, surrounded by fire, turning into ash, to atoms, to nothing-

“That’s it,” Desmond thinks with sudden ease and the darkness takes him.

AC_AC_AC_AC

“-enteen? Desmond?!” the voice cuts through the darkness, loud and frantic. “Seventeen, I can see you breathing, wake the fuck up!” Oh. That’s right, he is breathing. Desmond breathes in and out, and after a moment of struggle, opens his eyes.

“Thank fuck,” comes a relieved sigh, and Clay’s concerned face swims into view.

“Sixteen?” he blinks and sits up, slowly, suddenly acutely feeling the muscles moving under the skin. “What happened?”

Clay scoffs-laughs. “I was about to ask you the same thing, you know,” he says and spreads his arms, prompting Desmond to look around.

The sky is clear again, watered-down winter blue, tinted pink with the rising sun - the first safe sunrise in the next seventy-five thousand years. There are lights there, like huge swaying green and violet curtains hanged from the heavens - aurora borealis, fading, but still visible.

The forest is no more, there are just planes of charred black ground spreading as far as the eye can see. It looks lifeless, but in the distance, Desmond sees the town, Turin, and it doesn’t look like a pile of smoldering ash, and he breathes out, relieved.

And looks down at his hands.

His right hand is… weird. It looks like it was dipped into tar, with silvery First Civ designs running across the palm and up the forearm to the elbow.

“What the actual fuck?..” Desmond whispers.

“I guess that’s what’s left of the Apple of Eden,” Clay chimes in, looking at his hand with interest. “The pattern looks really close to it. You somehow managed to fuse it into your hand?”

He is right, Desmond thinks, the pattern in the center of his palm does look like an Apple’s imprint. “Wait a hot second,” he says and looks up at Clay, squinting. “That shit isn’t working now, I’m not even sure how to get it to work.”

Clay cocks an eyebrow at him. “So?”

“So... how are you still here?” Desmond asks slowly, gently, and Clay all but startles.

“I-,” he starts, eyes going wide and then blinks a few times. “I didn’t think-” he lifts his arms to his face and examines them closely, counting finger, before biting himself.

“Wow, dude!” Desmond exclaims out of surprise, but Clay seems to not hear him, eyes wide and looking at the indents on the meat of his palm.

“I am a real boy,” he whispers, and a huge grin, genuine and ecstatic breaks on his face. “I am a real boy!!!”

He jumps in place a few times and does a cartwheel. “Amazing!” he exclaims after he can’t stick the landing properly and falls over, landing face-first, and rolls over, smearing his clothes with coal dust. “Wow, that’s still pretty hot, I gotta say.”

“Um, you okay, Sixteen?” Desmond asks him and Clay turns to him, smiling so wide it seems his cheeks will split any second.

“Never better, Seventeen!” he assures and jumps up, like on springs, grabbing Desmond in a full-on bear-hug. “Thank you,” his voice suddenly hoarse, raw.

Desmond pats his back awkwardly, hiding his face in Clay's ash-smelling shoulder for a moment. “I literally have no idea how I did that, but you're welcome.”

“Who cares how,” Clay laughs again, a bit watery, looking around with the face of someone, who’s seen the light of day for the first time in years. “We are both alive, Desmond! All thanks to your stupid sacrificial ass,” his face turns serious. “Don’t pull that shit ever again.”

Desmond makes a face. “Hey, it worked,” he points out. "And the others would care, wait till my dad throws a tantrum about you being the Templar spy or some shit.”

Clay cackles. “I recognize dear old Bill,” he says and pushes Desmond into the general direction he came from. “Let’s get back to the Temple then, I’m dying to hear some nagging.”

“I’d do without,” Desmond mumbles just to be contrary and looks around, uneasiness creeping in his gut. “Do you think we did it? Save the world, I mean.”

“You tell me,” Clay replies, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. “That thing in your hand must work somehow.”

He is probably right, Desmond thinks and looks at his right hand again, at the Apple’s imprint. And then, on instinct, closes his fist, squeezing his eyes shut, concentrating. The rush of electricity is immediate, and he can’t see it, but he somehow is aware of the edges of the burnt forest, as if he can feel it. They are standing in the middle of a burnt spot, just a few miles in diameter, and beyond that everything looks… normal. The trees are alive, untouched by the flames, and he even feels a couple of small animals nesting in the branches.

The world didn’t go up in flames.

“It worked,” Desmond whispers to himself, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and notices something else. The Grand Temple cave wall is raised.

Desmond’s eyes fly open. “Come on, we gotta go,” he tells Clay and takes off running.

The others are standing at the mouth of the cave, and Desmond breathes a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. They are safe.

Rebecca, hair sticking in every direction more than usual, stares at what from a distance looks like a bastardized Geiger counter in her hands.

“-idea how it’s possible,” Desmond hears her tell disheveled Shaun as they approach. “Not even a trace of radiation, like it didn’t happen, and that shouldn’t be-”

“Son!” his father exclaims in a voice that sounds close to desperate and takes a step to him before he notices Clay. “What the?..”

“Desmond!” Shaun sees him too and rushes out of the cave, despite Becca’s protest. He reaches Desmond in a few long strides and grabs him by the collar.

Desmond expects shouting, maybe a shake or two, but Shaun just fists both hands in the fabric of his hoodie and looks at him, like for the first time, and his eyes are so beautiful, Desmond almost gets lost in them.

“You absolute bloody twat,” Shaun finally says, almost calm, measured, but his voice is shaking a little, as do his hands. “I will kill you myself if you do that again, I swear.”

He kisses Desmond, hard, almost bruising, and Desmond pulls Shaun into his chest, a tiny moan escaping his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as they part, and Shaun looks like he is about to cry.

“You better be,” he replies, hands still on Desmond’s collar. “Arsehole.”

There’s a loud “ahem” coming from the rest of their party, and Desmond gingerly turns his head only to lock eyes with his father, finally realizing what has just happened.

“I can explain,” he blurts out and sees Becca snicker behind his father’s back.

William looks from him and Shaun, to his Apple-fused arm, to Clay, who is watching them with the smuggest grin on his face, and back to Desmond. “I hope so, son,” he says mildly and opens his mouth to add something when the phone in his pocket starts going off.

He fishes it out, looks at the screen and after a moment holds it out for Desmond.

“It’s for you, son,” he says, and Desmond takes the phone, confused, pressing it to his ear.

“Bill? Thank heavens, what happened?!” the familiar voice fills his ears, and just like that, Desmond is left breathless, eyes widening. “Bill?”

He has to swallow the lump in his throat before he can speak. “Hi, mom.”

On the other end, Maria Miles gasps. “Desmond!” she exclaims, just like she would all those years ago, when he was little, and his vision goes a little blurry. “Oh, sweetheart... Are you alright?”

Desmond wipes his eyes, and looks around, at the smoldering remains of the forest under the winter sky, at his Dad, giving him a tiny, understanding smile, at grinning Clay and beaming Rebecca, at Shaun, holding his hand, and smiles himself.

“Yeah, mom,” he tells her honestly. “I really am.”

[adrenaline-roulette]

Hallow-Queen (Joe)

I wrote three Hallow themed one shots back in October for the Boh Rhap cast (There was supposed to be a fourth, but unfortunately some things came up, and I was unable to write it. Maybe this Halloween I’ll finally get it done!?)

Anyways, there is a fic for Joe, Ben and Gwil

First up will be everyone’s favourite Dino boi! Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader

The monster mash filled the bathroom as you got ready for the evening, your poor spotify algorithm will be so confused after tonight. You go for months listening only to the hits of the 80’s, and then suddenly, monster mash, and the Addams family theme are on loop! That however did not stop you from grooving along to the song, moving your hips to the beat and bobbing your head. You could hear Joe downstairs, setting everything up for the party he had organised at the last minute. Joe had sent a group text to the BohRhap cast, demanding everyone be free for Halloween. This, of course had been met with a rather loud outcry. Rami and Lucy had already made plans, Gwil was travelling to Wales to see his brother, and Ben well, Ben was free and had accepted immediately. Up until two days ago, it had been planned for just you, Joe and Ben to have a quite night together, watching scary movies, and pigging out on pizza. That is, until Joe had received a message from Gwil, his brother had come down with the flu, and didn’t want to pass it on to him. Your party now consisted of four. Next came a message from Lucy, “Okay, this is crazy, I haven’t seen you in months! Tell Joe that Rami and I will be there this weekend! (Don’t mention anything to Rami please, I’ve still got to figure out how to tell him…)”

With six confirmed people, you had taken it upon yourself to invite a few extra people, work mates, old school friends, and the castmates of Joe’s current project. As far as Joe knew, there were only going to be four of you in attendance tonight, yet somehow the extra bags of crisps, candy, and drinks hadn’t clued him in on the fact that there would be a lot more people in your house tonight. The doorbell rang downstairs, and you pause your music listening out for Joe as he shuffles around the floor below.  There’s the faint mumbling of voices, though they’re too quiet for you to pick up on who had arrived. Your phone ‘dings’ on the bathroom counter, and you turn your attention to it, a message from Ben illuminating the lock screen. “How long am I keeping Joe occupied for?”

You had a rather special surprise instore for Joe tonight, but to execute it properly, you needed Joe to give you some space for a little while. Ben had been more than willing to help out, offering to keep Joe away from you and the bathroom for as long as you required. “Just need 20 mins.” You send back just as the doorbell rings again. If you had planned everything correctly, everyone would arrive at roughly the same time, which meant Joe would be busy greeting all his unexpected guests. Turning back to face the mirror, you grin at your reflection, time for the piece de resistance! Carefully, you step into the legs of the suit you had chosen to wear, shimmying the material up to your hips. The suit is incredibly baggy on you, and it only becomes more noticeable as you shrug the outfit over your shoulders, but that was all about to change.

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

“What the hell is that noise?” Joe asks, turning his attention to Ben beside him, who paused as he went to open a beer. A loud ‘whirring’ noise seemed to echo around the entire apartment, Ben had a suspicion as to who the cause of the noise was, but had promised not to say a word.

Instead, Ben simply shrugs, popping the cap off his beer and taking a swig. “No idea sorry.” Joe squints at the blonde, but says nothing more on the topic, his eyes traveling over the costume his best mate had opted to wear. “Ben, mate, I’ve gotta ask. What are you wearing?” He waves his hand in the general direction of Ben’s costume, which consisted of a lime green skirt with purple flowers, salmon coloured tank top, and black boots.

Ben looks rather outraged at Joe’s obliviousness to his costume. “I’m sexy Patrick Star you uncultured swine!” He cries out, folding his arms across his chest, glaring at Joe. “What about you? You’ve barely put any effort in at all!”

Joe looks down at himself pouting at the blonde. “What do you mean? I’m in costume too!”

“It doesn’t count if you dress as your own character!”

Now that was something Joe hadn’t considered, he hadn’t even run his costume by with you, he just assumed that what he had decided to wear would be fine! He had on his baseball outfit from undrafted, lucky number 15 for Pat Murray. Looking at the slightly faded red shirt now however, Joe realised it was perhaps a somewhat lazy costume choice, he had just been so excited to still be able to fit into it! He never stopped to think, should he wear it? “At least my ass looks good in these pants.”

Ben can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head slowly. “Well, you’re not wrong.” A grin is plastered to Joe’s lips, as he gazes around the kitchen. Clearly you had been up to something, as there were currently at least fifteen people milling around the apartment, none of which he had invited, not that they were any less welcome though.

“No fucking way!” Joe screeches, as he looks over to the front door. It had been left open, allowing the warm night air flow into the apartment, also to stop people from constantly ringing the doorbell, allowing the guests to just walk right on in. Ben casts his glance towards the door also, an identical look of glee on his face also. “RAMI! LUCY!”

The sheer volume of Joe’s voice carries over the small crowd of guests, and the two people of his calling turn to look at him, only to find the man in question jumping up and down like a child on Christmas, waving his hands in the air. Ben looks almost embarrassed to be stood beside him, though he would never leave his side, especially seeing as the only other people who he knew at the party, were headed straight for him now. The ever impeccably dressed couple, now stood with them, dressed as Jack and Sally from the nightmare before Christmas. It was a classic costume, but they both pulled the look off so well! “What the hell are you two doing here?” Joe grins, as he wraps his arms around Lucy, then Rami in a tight, welcoming hug.

“You know, I would love to know the answer to that also Joe. Lucy, perhaps you could shed some light on the situation?” Rami smirks, wrapping an arm around the blonde bombshell.

Ben raises a quizzical eyebrow at Lucy, while she shies away from the interrogation she was currently facing. “Maybe, I accidentally typed in the wrong address when booking our uber?” She offers in explanation, though it’s obvious that even she doesn’t believe her own lie.

“Did Y/N have something to do with it?” Joe laughs, swiping a beer off the table for himself.

“I’m pretty sure Y/N had something to do with this entire party. You just weren’t told.” Ben offers quietly. Joe nods in agreement, there was no denying you had created this party, even if Joe had thought he was the one planning the whole thing.

The front door continues to swing open and closed, allowing more and more people inside, the dull mumble of conversation rising to one of a low roar. A tall shadow looms over the small group, who had migrated into the sitting room, Rami was scrolling through Joe’s phone, creating a playlist for the night, while Lucy, Ben and Joe discussed their latest projects. “Looks like our mission from God was a success. We’ve gotten the band back together.” The deep voice of Gwilym is one that cannot go unrecognised, and the small group all turn to face him. The Brit was dressed as Indiana Jones, complete with a whip from a children’s costume of the adventurer, and a brown sable fedora.

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

You switch the air pump off, turning to face the mirror once more, a broad grin covering your concealed face. “Joe is going to love this!” You chuckle to yourself, moving to exit the bathroom. Your walk is a slow, lumbering one, your oversized costume causing you to take short steps, as apposed to the long strides you usually took. You left your phone on the bathroom counter, having realised you had no way of picking it up and storing it on your person, now you had your costume fully applied. As you exit the bathroom, the soft notes of the time warp, melt into those of the much louder all star, the smash mouth hit blaring through the speakers on the floor below. “Stairs, okay, we can do stairs. This is fine, I am fine...”

At no point during the costume planning process had you considered the need to travel downstairs, and now here you stood, trying to gauge what the best way to tackle your descend. To say it was a slow process down would be an understatement, as you neared the bottom, a few guests stopped to look at your larger than life costume, attempting to peer in and see who had donned such an outrageous outfit. However they soon gave up, when you took too long to reach them. You could hardly blame them for walking away, by the time you got off the stairs, it had taken you close to seven minutes! You wouldn’t wait for you either.

You scan over the crowd, costumed people milling around your apartment drinking and eating, a few dancing along to the music that filled every crevice of the small home. Finally, you spot the people you had been looking for, your small band of misfits who had taken up one of the sofa’s in the sitting room. Somehow Ben, Lucy, Gwil and Rami had managed to sit themselves of the two-seater, leaving Joe sat cross legged on the carpet beside them. Moving closer, Ben is the first to spot you, not that you had expected anything else, he was the only one who knew what your costume was, in all honesty, he had been keeping an eye out for you all evening. Your shadow looms over Joe, who frowns slightly at what he would deem, as a rude intrusion into his personal space. “Hey mate, I think one of your guests needs a hand.” Ben smirks, raising an eyebrow in your general direction.

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

Joe looks up at Ben, his neck straining from having to continuously tilt his head back at an awkward angle to see his friends. He pushes himself up from the floor, adjusting his now lopsided baseball cap, before pivoting on the spot, only to come face to face with an inflatable T-Rex. The grin which takes over his face, is one you had been praying you would see tonight, and it only cements the fact, that you had worn the perfect costume. Sure it would likely never be worn again, you couldn’t think of a time where you would require a T-Rex costume, and you could almost guarantee that after tonight, it would be folded back into the amazon box it had arrived in, then shoved under your bed, never to see the light of day again. But just for this moment, the look on Joe’s face, made it all entirely worth it!

“Y/N that had better be you under there. Or I’m about to profess my love for a complete stranger.” He chuckles, the grin never wavering from his cheeks, as he looks past the mesh below the dinosaur’s head, searching for a face he could recognise.

You shake your head from side to side, the dinosaur’s head moving erratically as you do so. “Of course it’s me! Honestly, who else would do something like this?” You laugh, as Joe wraps his arms around you, hugging as best he can through the thick layer of inflated costume.

“Bugger me I love you.” He breaths out softly before he whirls around on the spot, one arm remaining wrapped around you, causing you to stumble forward with him. “Benjamin! Did you know about this?” Joe cries, mock hurt flashing through his hazel eyes.

Ben simply shrugs, downing the last of his beer, before leaning forwards and placing the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Don’t yell at Ben! If it hadn’t of been for him, this whole thing would’ve been ruined with your snooping!” You laugh in your friend’s defence.

Joe turns to look at you, mouth agape at your outcry. “What do you mean, my snooping?”

You roll your eyes, though quickly speak up, having forgotten no one can see your face terribly well. “Oh come off it Joe, you know as well as I do that if you get a hunch something is going on, then you do everything in your power to get to the bottom of it!”

“I do not!”

This time, there is a chorus of people agreeing with you, and Joe now turns to the group who he had only moments ago been sitting with. “Ben, I expected this from you. But the rest of you? I expected better!”

“Oh Joe, we love you, But Y/N is right. You remember Christmas last year, when you thought Gwil had you for secret Santa? You wouldn’t let it go for weeks! Not until you finally got you present, only to find out Rami had had you!” Lucy grins, shaking her head softly. Joe has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

“You followed me home one night after filming! It was bloody terrifying!” Gwil chuckles, crossing one leg over the other. “I nearly called the police, I thought someone was about to rob me, until I realised it was you lurking by the front door!”

You can’t help but laugh at this, as Rami turns to look at Gwil in shock. “I’m sorry, Joseph did what now?” Joe fumbles with his words as he attempts to explain himself, as Gwil simply laughs loudly, unable to form words to explain the situation to Rami. You remember that discussion quite well with Joe.

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

It was close the four in the morning when you heard the front door creak open, you had been napping on the sofa, the show you had been binge watching on Netflix long since finished. But Joe had promised he would be home at a reasonable hour tonight, so you had decided to stay up and wait for him. This, however, was not what you considered a reasonable time! And from the way he had been talking when you spoke on the phone earlier in the day, he was expecting to be home just after midnight.

 “Hey babe.” He smiled, toeing off his shoes at the front door, and hanging his coat up on the hook by the door. You frown over at him, peering over the back of the sofa, sleep clouding you vision momentarily.

 “Where have you been?” You sigh, on any other night, you would likely get into an argument over his late arrival. But you were too tired for that right now, and quietly you were just glad that he was home now.

Joe has the decency to look somewhat guilty, as he moves around the apartment, settling down on the sofa beside you. He lifts your legs for a few moments, before lowering them back down, now resting over his lap. “I’m sorry Y/N. I had a few errands to run. I guess I lost track of time.”

“Errands at three in the morning?” Joe goes still, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind as he tries to think up an excuse. “Out with is Mazzello.”

Joe pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index fingers, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. “I, um, followed Gwil home.” He mumbles.

You’re at a loss for words, and blink steadily at the ginger beside you. You had met Gwilym only a handful of times, he was such a gentleman! And for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why Joe had felt the need to follow the man home. “Expand and explain.”

“You know how the cast and I are all doing secret Santa this year?” Joe pauses, and looks over to you, watching as you nod in understanding before he continued. “Well, Rami kept asking me about things that I liked, and what I would perhaps want for Christmas. At first I thought nothing of it, but then I saw him and Gwil whispering to each other, and they kept looking over at me when I was grabbing a coffeein between takes. I put two and two together, and figured Rami was collecting information for Gwil! I asked around, tried to find out if anyone knew who had me, but either no one knew, or they refused to tell me. So I decided to take things into my own hands! We finished up for the night, and I decided to follow Gwil, to try and confirm my suspicions. He went to a department store, and I followed him as best I could, but I couldn’t see what he purchased, there were too many people around. So I realised I just had to follow him home, and see if I could catch what I was wrapping. And well, that’s kinda what I did. Problem is, he caught me lurking around the place, swung the door open, demanded I come inside, and proceeded to give me the lecture of a lifetime.” Joe finishes looking like a kicked puppy.

You can barely contain your laughter, and if it were to be told by anyone else, you would say they were lying. But you knew Joe, and this was exactly the kind of thing he would do! “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that right? The whole point of secret Santa is right there in the name, it’s supposed to be a secret!”

“Yes, I know that! But I just had to know if he did have me!”

“And, the verdict was?”

“I still don’t god damned know! I couldn’t see what the gift was when he wrapped it, and he refused to tell me!”

You shake your head, sighing deeply, it was a good thing you lived this man, otherwise you would be on the verge of sending him to a psychiatric ward. “Bloody hell Joe, I’m going to bed before you tell me anymore.”

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

As you stand with your rag-tag group of friends, you make a note of the one flaw in your costume, you have no way of eating or drinking whilst wearing it. A pout forms on your lips, as you join in with a conversation Lucy had sprung up with Ben. After a while, you excuse yourself “I’d best go play hostess to the rest of the guests.” You say with a grin, stepping away from the group.

“We all know we are the best guests here!” Rami calls, giving you a double thumbs up as you walk away.

You grin, shaking your head softly as you move around the large number of guests. It seemed like most people had taken the option of bringing a plus one, not that you could blame them. You often did the exact same thing, dragging Joe along to most social gatherings you were invited to. Slowly, you made your way around to everyone, making polite conversation with the guests you didn’t know well, and speaking enthusiastically about your costume with those you did know. By the time you had made the rounds a few times, you were hungry, and honestly really frustrated about not being able to eat. You made your way over to Joe, attempting to be subtle as you slide into the conversation he was engrossed in, Gwil talking animatedly with him about his latest project. “Hey babe, could I borrow you for a few minutes?” You ask softly.

Joe turns away to look at you, smiling at you, leaning down to hear you over the loud noise of the party. “Sure love, let’s go somewhere quiet so I can actually hear you?” He grins, before leading you away, towards the laundry. It was a rather small room, and was barely more quiet than where you had just been, but you were thankful for not having to manoeuvre the stairs once again. It was one thing to go down, and you wouldn’t know where to begin with how to go up. “What’s up?” Joe grin, leaning back against the washing machine, arms folded loosely over his chest.

“Can you give me a hand getting out of this?” You laugh, gesturing as best you can with you tiny T-Rex arms, at the costume you were surrounded by. “It was a bitch of a thing to get on, and I don’t even know where to start with taking it off.”

Joe grins, though moves to you quickly, helping you out of the outfit with ease. Perhaps you should’ve asked for some help getting it on also? That probably would’ve been a good idea… Joe places the sad looking T-Rex in the corner of the laundry, grinning across at you. “Now who are you supposed to be?” He chuckles, taking in your now lack of costume.

You look down at your yoga pants and shirt combo. “I’m a Jurassic Park fan still, can’t you tell?” You smirk, pointing to the faded Jurassic Park logo shirt, which you had long ago stolen from Joe. “I’ve got a soft spot for ‘lil Tim Murphy. He was my first movie crush.” You giggle.

Joe sighs, rolling his eyes at you, though a smirk tugs the corner of his lips. “How about a soft spot for Pat Murray too?” He suggests wriggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. You walk over to him slowly, rolling your hips as you do so, watching as his eyes travel from yours, and down to your hips. You stand up tall, taking the dusty cap off his head, planting it firmly on your own. His hair is an absolute mess underneath, his auburn locks pointing in all directions.

“Perhaps I just have a soft spot for that actor in general?” You tease, before making your way out of the laundry, and back to the party. You don’t wait for Joe, making your way over to your group once more, throwing yourself onto the sofa with an “Ooof.” Ben barely had a chance to get out of the way before you land partially on him, and Lucy grins at you from where she sits on the arm of the sofa.

“Someone pass me something alcoholic in nature please.” You grin, as you make yourself comfortable, sinking into the cushions. You don’t have to as twice, a glass of what you assume is rum and coke, thrust into your hands from Rami. “Cheers!” You grin, raising your glass in the air, before tipping the contents back.

You quickly fall into conversation with Ben, thanking him over and over again for keeping Joe distracted earlier in the evening, to which he brushes you off, telling you to not worry about it. Completely unaware, that when he brings up the promotion you recently got at work, that perhaps he was now keeping you distracted. Joe had reappeared recently, sitting on the opposite side of you, with a bowl of hula hoops in his lap. Carefully, he takes your left hand, and places one of the snacks on your ring finger, a soft blush covering his cheeks. “Thank you Joe, I am starving!” You grin, eating the food off your finger.

You’re oblivious to what he’s getting at, paying no mind to which finger he continues placing the crisp on, and instead, eating it off each time a new one appears. Joe looks at Ben over you shoulder, who simply shrugs in response, unsure what either could do about it. “Babe, could I maybe have more than one at a time?” You ask sweetly, and Joe looks physically pained.

Lucy, who had been watching the events unfold before her, had cottoned on to what was going on early in the piece, and decided to jump to Joe’s aid. “Y/N darling, just take a second and look at your hand yeah?”

You frown slightly at her, before turning away from Joe, looking down at your hand. “What’s so special about? Oh….” Perhaps it shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out what was going on. The hula hoop sat just above your first knuckle on your ring finger.

“Um, I know this isn’t how one normally does the whole, proposal thing. But we haven’t gone out looking at rings before, and I don’t know was your ring size is… So I’m kinda hoping this will do for the time being? As a place holder kind of thing?” Joe rambles, the blush creeping steadily up to the tips of his ears.

“Joseph, I’ll marry you with or without a ring.” You grin, throwing your arms around his neck, as his snake around your waist, your lips pressing together in a fierce kiss. A kiss full of promises of the future.

“Jeez, I don’t know how we’ll upstage Halloween next year.” Gwil smirks, as he and the other guests who were aware of the happenings clapped for the newly engaged couple.

My Masterlist

[sexatoxbridge]

Okay, so I am a little confused about some of your answers regarding Liam's situation (mostly about maya) and it's probably on me to be fair, but you're not blaming him right? Also, you have probably explained this in the past but would you mind debriefing on how they're all still connected to SC? And why Liam still needs to lie about bear when cheryl is under new management? Thanks

I don’t think that “blame” is the right word, but I don’t see him as a victim here. 

Regarding his situation in general, Liam’s celebrity image has been largely wrapped around events and other people over the past couple of years (as opposed to music). He also seems to be the member of One Direction who talks about One Direction the most. Whereas we know from listening parties that fans were told not to ask Louis questions about 1D, Liam is incapable of letting an opportunity to remind everyone that he was in 1D (and miserable about it at that) slide by. Kind of like how Taylor Swift can’t write an album without heavily implying that at least half of her songs are about her two month “relationship” with Harry Styles. It’s like omg

Another very complicated subject for Liam seems to be Zayn. He simultaneously cannot stop talking about him whilst also never keeping a consistent opinion or story on the matter of his exit from 1D. Whereas I haven’t heard Harry say Zayn’s name in about five years, Liam has relentlessly talked about him and it changes day to day whether or not he has something nice to say. I think the day he said he’d throw Zayn off the boat if he had to throw one of the members of the band off was the day that I was like   

Everyone knows Zayn can’t swim! 

Anyway. Remember this guy?

Edward Enniful is the editor-in-chief of British Vogue. Him and Liam spent A LOT of time together. 

It’s how he met Naomi Campbell (don’t even get me started on that mess of a stunt) amongst other models Liam was reportedly dating and probably how he got his Hugo Boss deal. He was also there, it seems, to coordinate the arrangement between Liam and his current girlfriend.

I don’t have the patience time to theorise on the nature of their relationship, but what is clear is that Edward was around whenever Liam was with all these models the tabloids claim he was banging. So, when I say that Liam’s celebrity profile has been wrapped largely around events, I mean events with Edward*, who paraded him around fashion events for the better part of a year. 

My point is, Liam inserted himself into this crowd and lifestyle intentionally. This thing he has with this girl, however, does not benefit him in the slightest when it comes to his image. In fact, I would say that even before it transpired that she’s only 18 it was a pretty questionable storyline to be like, “Liam is dating a 1D fan!” It already sounded predatory and even if she was 19, that’s still really fucking young. 

I genuinely have no idea who Liam’s management (or friends for that matter) are since it seems like no one is giving him a head’s up that this relationship is getting a pretty unanimous reaction of 

Honestly, I don’t even think his fans are being honest with him. I certainly didn’t want to talk about any of this because I prefer to keep my negative opinions to myself since there’s enough criticism out there as it is, but lately whenever I think of Liam I’m like

SOMETHING is going on. And unlike Louis, who looks like he’d rather put a campfire out with his face than be around any of his beards, Liam is actively participating in and promoting this relationship as if he’s being paid to do so. Because he is. He should really put #Ad on every social media post he tags this girl in since not doing so violates the rules of Instagram. 

As to his connection to SC...I wouldn’t be surprised if SC was like

to all of this as well. He’s probably like, “Yeah I know my ghostwriter I wrote in my book that if you want to become famous you should have a PR relationship with someone famous, but that’s for people who AREN’T ALREADY FAMOUS.” 

I would be pulling something out of thin air if I were to tell you how SC and Liam are linked at the moment, since beyond his appearance on TXF it doesn’t seem like they’re too close. Then again I would not be surprised in the slightest if Liam showed up as a contestant on Celebrity XF. It would be less shocking than his Child Beard™ girlfriend being 18.

As for Cheryl and Bear

I know this seems like a whole lot of word vomit on how Liam is the worst, but I genuinely think that it is in his best interest to realise what the public perception of all of this is. I am not saying that my opinion is universally shared, but given that almost nobody has jumped to defend the idea of him dating an 18 year-old, I feel like most people are pretty much in agreement on that being a bit..weird. And creepy. It’s definitely creepy. On both ends...like what’s the story here? Love at first meet and greet? 

The reality is that either:

1. Liam is being paid to date an 18 year-old girl to give her more exposure and fame (which isn’t happening because no one is buying what they’re selling)

or

2. Liam is dating an 18 year-old fan who he met when she was 14

Twice

And again when she was 17

It doesn’t help that she looks like a child.

The fandom didn’t like the predatory implication that when Cheryl was 32 she was attracted to 14 year-old Liam, so I don’t know what PR genius decided to double down on the questionable and inappropriate age differences, but this is not a good look for anyone. 

I GENUINELY hope that someone pulls Liam aside and convinces him that his talent is enough to make him a celebrity, because it certainly is. If he needs money, he knows this fandom can do a whip around like no one else, he doesn’t need to be on some shady lawyer’s payroll just so some rich kid can have an iota of relevance. I’m not going to try and deeply psychoanalyse someone I don’t know, but these certainly do not appear to be the actions of someone with confidence in their work. These stunts and events and cameos from random celebrities make it seem like he’s clutching to relevance, and the desperation is very off-putting. 

Liam has done some incredible things musically since the band went on hiatus, but all of that is being overshadowed by what appears to be an obligation to make someone else famous. Unlike his girlfriend though, he isn’t a kid. And I think some serious reassessment is in order. 

[eltanin-malfoy]

From the Dining Table

based on the song by Harry Styles

pairing: draco/ginny

word count: 2.5k

warning(s): heavy sexual themes/sex mention/non-graphic smut, angst, alcohol, cursing

requested: not

a/n: yet another depressing ass songfic! am i even surprised? not even a little bit. also, drinny >>> ALSO, v importantly, i’m gonna dedicate this to the lovely drawlfoy bc it was her 18th birthday on the 17th :) happy late birthday!!!!!!!!!! (also evi watch out, i’m working on a (v :/) late bday present my writer’s block has only just gone down recently :3)

taglist: @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword

also available on ffn, ao3 and fia

It was warm and it was satisfying. But then it was over and it wasn’t anymore. 

It was incredibly pathetic.

Draco lifted the sheets and brought his hand nearer to his face, turning it over. The skin of his palm was red where he’d held himself tight and was speckled with the evidence of the climax he’d brought himself to. The haze, the heat, he’d found himself in had practically vanished into thin air. He stared at it with disgust, then reached for his wand, placed precariously at the edge of his nightstand. 

He could almost imagine what she’d do if she was here. Poke his nose and giggle. Maybe even peck him on the cheek while she chided him for being silly. Ginny was always overly cheery after it was over, sometimes even uncharacteristically so. 

But Draco wasn’t. Especially not now. 

Memories of her pulsed through his mind. The sore stiffness on his front threatened to stir once more and Draco quickly flicked his wand towards his nethers and cast a cleaning charm under his breath. The sheets would be fine now. Not a soul would know what had transpired there that morning. But he… he felt tears dripping down his cheeks before he realised that the swirling in his stomach wasn’t just the aftermath of his orgasm. It was that awful, awful mixture of regret and anxiety. He was supposed to get used to it, he knew. But it felt just as painful as it had the moment it had all ended. 

There were a million ways to get over exes and he’d attempted and succeeded with them before. It’s just that this time around, he wasn’t trying. Maybe, he just didn’t want to. His heart was shattered, and instead of looking to mend it and try over again, for some reason he felt it was simpler to just mull over what had been. Or long for it, rather. 

A  few minutes had elapsed, and while his sniffing had ended, his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. His wet cheeks felt oddly bloated and he knew his fantasy had long since ended. He’d attempted to imagine morning sex, pretending the hand he didn’t use often was hers. Why? Who knew. Who knew. He wondered when even something as primal as stroking himself would return to normalcy and he wouldn’t have to imagine it had anything to do with what used to be. This train of thought, however, was much too complex for the moment. He blinked slowly, letting the lids of his eyes droop and shield his pupils from the soft sunshine. He felt himself falling back into the void of sleep, succumbing to some odd sense of calm. The dark dreamlessness of his slumber was more comforting than anything else. 

But it wasn’t long before he felt the harsh rays of the early afternoon sun beating down on him, the glare from the french windows on the side of his room enveloping him in the heat. It was time to get up. But his feet suddenly felt too large and too heavy for the rest of his body. He could barely even fit two and two together before he walked over to the desk in the front of his room and picked up the receiver of the intercom and dialled for room service. 

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I've never felt less cool

The harsh scent of whiskey could be smelt off his person. He knew it. Earthy, ethanolic, evocative. He’d ordered the most expensive bottle of whiskey they had and now he knew it’d been worth it. It tasted richer than that usual phenolic taste he’d become used to. You could even call it slightly leathery, with those soft notes of chocolate and smoke that Gin had taught him to look out for. Fucking hell. 

He’d poured himself just half a glass at first, mostly in an attempt to lie to himself. He wanted to limit his consumption of alcohol in the daytime, but it had been no good. The ice in his drink was still mostly solid after he’d finished his first glass, and it still was as he poured himself another. 

He’d relished the fervid feeling down his throat, the burning sensation that he hoped was numbing the pain in his chest. He stared at the half-empty bottle with nothing but remorse. He was laying back on the bed now, thoughts flitting through his mind while brain felt oddly fleshy in his skull. Every part of his body felt so heavy now he could barely lift a muscle. He’d always been deplorably lightweight. And now that he’d drunk so much all within thirty minutes, well, he was doing miserably. He could already feel his impending hangover, even the blood pumping through the veins on his head was cacophonic.

Now, now, he wished Ginny was here to take care of him. He knew this thread of thought was so very pitiful, but it was sensible. She was scarily good at handling her liquor, she always had been. Somehow. He supposed the only girl among a few brothers could certainly turn out just as, if not more, tough than the rest of them. It was something he admired, he’d told her. She could protect him when they’d be drinking. (She was a little more protective over him than he was towards her anyway.) 

His plan to distance himself from everyone and everything in an effort to get over his ex-girlfriend - ex-fiancée-to-be, ex-future-wife, whatever you wanted to call her - now seemed doltish, futile, even. Every single thing he did only reminded him of her. His original intent for his stay at this hotel had long since been lost. He’d stopped trying long since. There was no point.  

The day everything had gone to dust, it didn’t feel like it would be permanent. They’d had plenty of rifts between the two of them, which was to be expected really, what with them being as competitive and quarrelsome as they were and Ginny being a Quidditch player (  god, what a dream that was), they had their fair share of conflicts. But that time, he didn’t know that that evening, when she stepped out of his apartment, that they’d never speak again.

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

It had been a jealousy thing, he’d thought. Why she’d got so annoyed at him for spending time with Daphne. He didn’t say a word when she went out with her friends, regardless of their gender. Sure, she was very pretty, he’d admit that. But it wasn’t fair that she got annoyed at him for it. There’d only been two times when he’d had to blow off plans with her to spend time with Daph. He hadn’t meant anything by it. He hadn’t meant to forget that they were going to have dinner with her parents.

He’d told her so many times. But she hadn’t accepted his excuse. Not at all. 

“You’re a grown man, Draco. You were supposed to remember this. It was-” “Come on, Gin, I told you! I didn’t mean to forget.” “ Of course you didn’t! You didn’t mean to make my parents disapprove of you even more. You didn’t mean to make Ron hate you!”

“Gin, come on, I-” “No, don’t you ‘Gin’ me. You fucked up. Seriously. And I cannot believe you blew me off to spend time with her.”

“Her? What do you mean ‘her’? You can’t even say her name, do you despise her that much? I don’t say anything when you’re out with-with Luna or...  Potter.”

“You know there’s nothing going on between me and any of them. And there never will be. You know that. And you’ve met Luna enough times.. you don’t have to keep being snooty about her.”

“What? How was I being snooty?”

“You-you made that face. The one you make when you’re disgusted. It’s awful, you know? She’s one of my dearest friends and-” “Oh, and Daphne’s one of mine but I’m cheating with her, right?”

“I’ve told you, I trust you, it’s just that she’s so goddamn touchy and all of that. And she makes you-” 

“God, I shouldn’t even bother trying to make you like her, should I? You’re so fucking clingy.”

“Draco, goddammit, I-”

Her freckled cheeks had gone from slightly flushed to a deep crimson through the length of their conversation. With how mad she was at him, he knew she was fury in person. But now, there was something in those brown eyes of her that made him weak at the knees. Not in desperation, but more so in regret. The tears beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes made him feel like ripping his hair out in tufts. He wanted to make it all okay again. He wanted to lean down and kiss her and hug her and do anything and everything he could to make her stop looking so sad. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Draco.” “G-ginny, I didn’t mean any of it. I was mad and-” “It doesn’t matter. Y-you said it. And if you said it, you must have felt it, at least a little bit.” “No, but… I.. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything, I swear.” She kept looking up at him so solemnly, so softly, with little tears streaking down her face while her dainty lips began to quiver. “It doesn’t matter.” “Ginny, I.. I’ll make it up to your parents. I’ll make them all dinner all by myself. I’ll-I’ll help.. your brothers. I’ll pay for anything. I swear. I’ve fucked up, I know. Please-” “Draco. Stop.”

She took a deep breath and looked to the side as she used the sleeve of that cute blue jumper to wipe away the mess on her face. He could hardly muster up the courage to look at her face, knowing it was him that had made her feel all that. It was enough to make his stomach drop low into his abdomen and the little food he’d had out with Daphne threaten to exit through his mouth.

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry, too

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry, too

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry, too

He moved out of his parents’ estate and into muggle London for her, but he wasn’t even sure if she knew that. His father had never liked it at all. Him and the Weasley girl, he remembered the sour way it had dripped out of his mouth. But for once, he couldn’t take it anymore. The bloody Gryffindor he’d fallen in love with had made him feel brave enough to stand up to his father, somehow. His parents seemed okay with it. His mother did ask him to get himself his own place, however. He couldn’t even imagine what would have gone down had he fallen in love with a muggle-born, or worse, a muggle.

But here he was, making love to one, staying in a hotel in a part of London he’d never frequented before. And why? Because he thought it as revenge. It was a girl who looked similar enough to her when he squinted. Long, red hair and shapely legs. Not as freckled though, and not nearly as gorgeous. He tried not to look at her face much, because he knew the only way he could even get it up any more was by imagining it was Ginny with him. 

And it wasn’t even like he loved one night stands or something. He hadn’t even stepped out of his room much the whole time he’d stayed here. And yet, seeing him had sparked this rage, this uncontrollable hunger within him, that he just had to do something about it. 

Seeing that son of a bitch out that morning hadn’t stirred much in him at first. He’d thought now they finally had one thing in common. They were both Ginevra Molly Weasley’s exes. But of course, that was no longer true.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was seeing the other again. Or at least sleeping with him.

And how did he know this? The usual browned skin on his neck was adorned with hickeys and ceremonial bitemarks, much in Ginny’s fashion. His face was dazed and even his short, dark hair looked the slightest bit mussed. But oh, oh no. The shirt he had on.. was one of Draco’s own. Or at least it used to belong to him.

That once elegant navy button-up seemed hideous to him in that instant. Even thinking about Ginny having given it to him made his blood boil and swelter. And.. and imagining the context...

It made him want to get on his knees and wail in front of Ginny like a child. To beg for her back. Oh, how much he hated Dean bloody Thomas.

And that was how he justified his going out on the town and getting drunk that night. How he justified charming and shamelessly flirting with a girl he wouldn’t’ve even have treated with an ounce of respect even ten years earlier. It wasn’t his fault he could be so seductive when he tried to be. And he knew she was nothing but a piece of meat to her. A piece of meat that looked just enough like his lovely. Just enough for him to pretend that he loved her that night. 

He thought it would help a little bit, skin slapping against skin. He thought it would help ease that pain he felt deep inside of him. That perhaps holding someone the way he used to hold her would help him. But he knew it was no good. Because even while he tried his best to get her out of his head, she was there again. 

She was in between his fingers when they walked in a park. She was lying across his lap when he gave her the punishment she’d begged him for. She was in between his sheets while he fixed them breakfast. She was everywhere he looked, and yet she wasn’t.

She was in the teardrops that dripped down his face as he realised the girl he’d snuggled up to all night wasn’t even her. And she was still there, heavy in his heart as he quietly made his way out of the girl’s house.  God, he didn’t even remember her name, did he?

But Ginny, Ginny, Ginny’s name was all over him. Blazing red burned into his skin forever and ever still. No matter how hopeless he knew it was. No matter how much he knew there was nothing to come, no positive emotions from her to come into fruition ever, but the way she’d looked at him, so piercingly, so angry yet so calm, when he stepped out of her apartment that night, that was all he could see.

But you, you never do.

[migleefulmoments]

lmao Abby is losing her shit because Darren is gonna be singing White Christmas with Lea on her new Christmas album. Apparently that song is "sacred" and can only be sang by Darren and Chris. She seriously needs to get a grip.

Anonymous said: "I can be upset, I think it is a complete slap in the face. there are like 3000 christmas songs, there are THREE that are sacred.   And yes, D should have sad no." Oh look Abby doesn't approve of something Darren is doing AGAIN. Seriously she claims to be his biggest fan but yet complains about everything he does.

Man, I didn’t see this coming. I’m amazed at how deeply emotional they are about a scripted, tv-show couple and a really old song! I might understand  if Abby was a lesbian teenager and this was 2011. It was empowering for gay, lesbian and bisexual kids and young adults to turn on network tv and see people that looked liked them. But times they have a changed. Klaine and Brittana pushed boundaries, but in 2019 there are LGBTQ characters on many shows, Netflix has LGBTQ programing and Ryan Murphy continues to create shows that specifically tell LGBTQ stories-ie Pose and he has created LGBTQ characters for all of his shows because that’s life. He’s continues to normalize LGBTQ characters on his shows: 911 has a main character who is a married lesbian, The Politician has gay characters and its been reported that Rock Hudson will be a character in Hollywood. 

So here we are in 2019 and Abby is devastated that the sacred White Christmas will be covered by Darren and Lea on her new Christmas album. First off, why is the song sacred? Abby mentioned the “Bryant Park riot”-a riot we know never happened. The people “holding the fandom together” were not in the cc fandom when Chris and Darren filmed in Bryant Park. Their “memories” of that day have all been created by watching a few moments of the 11-hour day. I’ve come to realize that the cc theory is built on slowed-down gifs and screenshots. Reality looks nothing like cc so they manipulate the facts to fit their needs. It’s a powerful method because it is so easy to con people into believing inane facts. I am sure that Abby and Flowers and Cassie and Leka fully believe everything they hold near and dear about CrissColfer.  It’s all a lie but they fully believe they are throwing out tried-and-true proven facts. Abby in particular is really baffled why we can’t see what she see. The difference between them and us is that we don’t listen with our eyes. We don’t get information about Darren and Mia by piecing together gifs. That’s it-gifs and screenshots from videos! Can you imagine if a lawyer a police officer  used a gif as evidence? 

Nobody set out to con the tinhatters into believing a fantasy that doesn’t exits-in fact, nobody is conning the fandom-they are conning themselves. They don’t look at the  evidence and form an opinion- they literally create the evidence. Zoom in a photo until you can crop out what you need or clip 1-2 seconds from a longer video, slow it down, add some text and suddenly *BAM* you have proof! Proof with all the drama and emotion to make it feel so much more important than it was. 

How the shit hit the fan:

Leka:

jaci3

I will definitely be purchasing this album! So much talent! Cynthia!! Darren!! Jonathan and Lea!!

notes-from-nowhere

I’m going to take this as a good news👍🏻

ajw720

But no, no, no no. Do not get me wrong, I am thrilled D is on the album, but no, no, no, not a K/laine song. Why?  There are so many Christmas songs out in the world and they chose a K/laine song?  

I have no interest, it can never live up.

I hate 2019.

DRAMA MUCH?

Thanks, but it’s a hard pass for me.

ajw720

I actually have tears in my eyes. This feels like a complete slap in the face. Sorry, but it is and it should not have been this song and I don’t care what you believe, Those songs are sacred to the K/laine fandom whether you think he is married to her or with C or something completely different.  

How many Christmas songs are there to choose from? If she wanted WC, she could have sang it with someone else.

With you @cassie1022 hard pass.  It may seem silly to be this upset about something, but this actually makes me angry.  I feel like K/laine fans are being discarded. That is his LEGACY, something he should be proud of, through that character and that pairing, he and C made a difference, and I do not understand why it needs to constantly be chipped away.  

I have to say the thing that strikes me the most is how obtuse she is about what Glee was the end. It was a mess. I loved Glee but most of the fun by the end was the amazing fanfiction, Fanon Klaine and fandom itself. It was fun to get the song sneak peeks and BTS photos and videos. It was amazing to be a part of a fandom of people who loved what I did. It is amazing to be part of the Chris and Darren stanclub.  But Glee...it was a disaster. .

Leka proves some context for “White Christmas is Sacred” and notice how how many are gifs: 

leka-1998

Excuse you.

WC is so much more than just a song.

undefined

(She does know this is a scripted moment right? Darren didn’t actually travel to NYC from Lima with Chris’s dad and someone told him when to skate, what to say, what to sing.). 

“It’s been a whirlwind, but amazing. We got to film at the ice skating rink in Bryant Park, which was just incredible. It was one of the best filming experiences I’ve ever had.”

- Ch/ris Col/fer

(Yes, Darren laid down on the carpet and took a picture of Chris which was  about the most cc thing that happened in 11 hours)

(I have no doubt that these three gifs were created from 1 or 2 seconds of real-time video. These images created the false impression that they spent the day together, gleefully skating and being intimate. Not too long ago, I read a cc post that claimed “Darren spent the day taking care of Chris”.  No, not true- see the videos below for a more realistic representation of the day). )  

#truly this really upsets me

(I guess she is reminding us of how much they mean to the world- eye roll.)  

I tried finding a long video on YouTube-ideally much of the day or even just big chucks of the day but *surprise* nobody bothered to upload that snooze fest. If the day was actually the cc riot the posse believes it was, there would be an 11-hour complication video.

I did find some video that accurately represents what I remember. Basically just imagine 11 hours of the following: 

undefined

Chris was pretty shaky when they started skating but by the time they filmed, he was much better. I cannot imagine being on skates for 11- shaky- hours.

undefined

undefined

Chris skating alone, trying to get more comfortable with skating before filming.

That’s it! That s the totality of what is posted on YouTube from the “Riot”.

The conversation continues; 

Anonymous asked:

White Christmas is literally one of the most cliché christmas songs. The album is just Lea's favorites. Darren has sung White Christmas before and he sounded amazing so it's only natural she would invite him to sing it with her. I get the a lot of things can be frustrating, but good god you all being THIS upset about it is the reason why everyone mock our fandom. It's not even baby it's could outside. At least we know for sure chris is going to be mentioned at some point during the promo.

ajw720 answered: (in victim mode)

Why do you care if I am this upset?  Seriously, let them mock me, they have blogs dedicated to hating me and posts multiple times a day.  I am over it, they are the ones with the sad lives who actually give me power.  

(Nope, not dedicated to “hating you”, I simply debunk your “facts” and “proof” beaus they are not evidence of CrissColfer; Yes, this is unfortunately a negative side effect to disproving your lies- you don’t care if the attention is negative or positive- you just like the attention. But pointing out the lies and misinformation is more important to me ) 

I can be upset, I think it is a complete slap in the face. there are like 3000 christmas songs, there are THREE that are sacred.   And yes, D should have sad no.  We sit here and swallow everything, including having “D” himself mock and yell at our fandom on SM.  And I virtually defend everything he does, probably to a fault, including holding out that person as his wife. This was easily avoidable.

(well at least you acknowledge that Darren calls out your fandom for their bad behavior on social media. Now would be a good time to really analyze why you think that is. Really sit down and think about why Darren would mock your fandom without a gif or a screenshot to zoom in on. What would drive him to be angry at a ccer?) . 

Sorry, not sorry, don’t like, post on your own blog and stop reading mine if you don’t like the way i represent. Happy to pace the torch. 

(Wow she is happy to pass the torch? Right. ) 

notes-from-nowhere

(Notes comes in and tries to soothe Abby’s fragile nerves).

So, I feel the need to say something. I’m not that much upset for the song mostly because I think it may be the song D picked out if those presented to him so I don’t fully like the idea but it could have been worse. At least all of the involved knows the meaning of the song.

What bothers me though is this kind of attitude, anon. This urgency to come here and to tell to another person what/how/when she should feel about something. Trying to put a weight on it or to dismissed the rightfulness of her feelings.

If this is how she (and everyone else) feels about this, she has the right and the freedom to say it out loud without having to face someone else’s judgement because maybe she has another opinion.

(and the anon has the right to say what she feels-see how that works?)

There are different ways to approach a person to communicate so please next time, think better.

ajw720

Thank you @notes-from-nowhere, hard to believe, the above was at least more respectful than this anon:

This is why I left the fucking fanbase. I still very much agree with the same views and ideas that all of you have, but jesus christ, it’s a SONG. Calm down. I’m just happy whenever D does something that doesn’t envolve PBB. Getting so upset because D is singing a song that he sang with C. Maybe he’s doing it because it reminds him of the Bryant Park shoot? Maybe? Good god, everything is the apocalypse to you guys. Leaving was the best thing I’ve ever done.

I want to remind everyone, I am the one, with a handful of people, keeping this fandom alive and supporting D&C daily,. And just like i can praise them, i can tell them when they hurt me.  This hurt. Maybe I am being overly dramatic and if this was isolated, i would say yes. This is not isolated, it is a continued effort to erase K/laine and CC.  As has been pointed out, not only did they offend K/laine fans in general, it is a knock at our fandom who still to this day celebrate the skating riot.

(Oh lord, she reminds us she is the HBIC, sacrificing everything to keep the fandom together. I love that she believes this is “supporting D&C daily”. Nobody needs to be told the suck everyday.  She support them and so she can criticize them but nonnie cannot criticize her. That makes perfect sense) 

Again literally THOUSANDS of songs to choose from.  Not even sure why L would EVER want to compete with C, but in this case, the fault doesn’t lie with her.  D should have said no.  

(I don’t think Lea is too worried about putting up her vocal chops against Chris’.  The both have great voices)

I am not going to say anything else and just accept that yet another of D’s 2019 projects is something i won’t ever see or hear.  

(once again it’s all about her and her hurt feelings. But this response is at least rationale-if you don’t like the project- skip it. It isn’t Darren’s responsibly to provide 100% Abby approved content)   

I really hope things are going to change, I really, really do.

(But they aren’t..they really aren’t.  This is Darren’s life and I know it’s super stressful because you are trying to hard to make his life work with yours and it just won't You both have very conflicting and opposing goals for Darren’s life. Here’s a protip: Go on a gif-free and zoomed-photo-free diet for a few months. Analyze the information at face value. Learn what PR really means and see how things look.If for no other reason than your own sanity. Stop trying to shove the square peg in the round hole 

#please do not send any more asks on this topic

#i am very upset

ajw720

My feelings aside, WHY in the world would LM EVER want to compete with this? Sorry, but it won’t be half as good. Stupid move and that is trying to remove my bias.

(Her thought processes never ceases to amaze me. Abby and Trump- they start criticizing and they just can’t stop. Lea gets to make her own decisions about what songs she sings, who she’s competitive with, whether she wants to take a chance and put herself out there or not. It just isn’t anyone else’s business. Chris has a beautiful voice but Lea has a stunning voice-she isn’t worried. This is right up there with her criticisms of TSG’s air conditioning, drink names, theme nights and every comment she’s made about a bar she will never go to. 

[mydarlingklaus]

Summary: Species of all kind are welcomed at the Whitmore Academy for the Supernaturally Gifted, but that doesn't mean they all necessarily welcome each other. Ambitious supreme witch Caroline Forbes shares a mutual loathing with arrogant yet mysterious vampire Klaus Mikaelson. A spiral of events occur when their two dueling worlds collide and they have to ask themselves, 'is it worth it'?

Chapter 3 is updated!! 

I just wanna say how humbling it is that this story is being so well received. I love reading your reviews and it’s what keeps me motivated to update as quickly as I have been so thank you. Can’t stress it enough!

Under the cut is the first part of the chapter but  I would appreciate if you leave reviews on my fanfic account. But let me know if posting the full chapter on both tumblr and my ff account is preferred.

The full chapter can be found here and reviews are appreciated, as always (: 

Time was passing slowly, too slowly.

Class was dragging but luckily it wasn't a difficult subject. It was a general magic course, basically beginner chemistry that every student of any kind was required to take before graduating. Caroline could practically do all of this in her sleep. What had her on edge was the news she heard just 20 minutes ago, that she had to share a class for the rest of the semester with the boy she loathes.

He seemed to be everywhere and wouldn't bug off, like a nagging pest. It was as if Klaus was making it his life mission to make Caroline's last semester as miserable as possible by forcing his way into every aspect of it.

She could barely focus on the lesson Professor Sommers was teaching with her brain scattered.

Glancing over her left shoulder she spotted Klaus who actually seemed to be paying attention to the lecture. The crease in his forehead that usually appeared when he was fixated on something visible and deep; Caroline recalled from the few times she's caught him staring at her. His eyes squinted in determination, full bottom lip trapped between his teeth and left hand rubbing his scruffy cheek while his right scribbled down notes.

- Rebel Klaus Mikaelson turned ideal student?

- Why are you studying him?

Caroline blinked out of her curiosity and discreetly cleared her throat while uncomfortably shifting in her seat. Her moves not discrete enough given that Klaus was now focusing on her from afar with an expression full of wonder; no smugness in sight. They both had some sort of radar that detected when the other was looking.

The professor continued her lecture while the two of them were staring each other down like it was a job.

- Is this foreplay for him?

Feeling like she was giving him enough of her time, Caroline rolled her eyes and turned back towards the front. Not seeing the victorious smile sketched on his face.

She straightened her back and sat up right to appear studious and focused, fighting the urge to look over at him again.

"You know, you two should do us all a favor and just fuck to get it over with already."

Caroline nearly jumped out her seat, not the least bit aware that Katherine was sitting right behind her with a teasing smirk on her lips.

She appeared out of nowhere and mouth practically in her ear; no consideration for personal space. Similar to Klaus's behavior.

- God I hate vampires.

Caroline kept her attention towards the front of the class as she harshly whispered. "Uhh, excuse me?"

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Please you and Mikaelson have been eye fucking each other for the past 10 minutes and not gonna lie, it turned me on."

"Oh my god. Are all vampires this perverted and nosy?!" Caroline strongly whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening to them.

She shrugged. "Probably. All the ones I've met are but we're highly sensuous creatures after all, are you surprised?"

"I wouldn't know. Vampire 101 isn't really my level of expertise."

The brunette leaned forward. "Lets just say we have incredible senses and can detect sexual tension from a mile away and you and him definitely have a lot of it."

Her blush deepened.

"I have a boyfriend." Caroline clarified.

"And?"

She scoffed. "And he's the only one I have any kind of sexual tension with."

"That's not really how sexual tension works, babe."

Caroline swiftly turned in her seat. "First of all, I am not your 'babe'. I'm not your anything. Second of all, we're forced to live together and apparently have a class together but we are not friends, not even in the slightest so you cannot talk to me about things like this especially when they're not true."

"You're getting quite defensive over something that isn't true." Katherine said suggestively.

"Be- because I don't want any kind of rumors being spread about me." She stuttered. "I don't associate with vampires and never will so you and your buddy Klaus need to get a life and leave me alone." Caroline said angrily.

The brunette clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Just because we're both vampires doesn't mean we're bffs. He has no idea who I am, yet, and I only know him because it's kinda important to know who's the leader of my own faction."

"Ask me where I asked, or showed that I care." Caroline sassed before turning in her seat again with a dramatic sigh.

Katherine glared pressing her lips together as she sat back in her chair. "All I know is that the werewolf has never gotten you this hot and bothered and I've only known you for a day. Please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong."

The blonde stayed silent shaking away the obvious blush of her cheeks from Katherine's accusation.

- Me? Klaus Mikaelson? Sexual tension? I rather swallow a blade.

Klaus wasn't hideous, obviously. Definitely one of the most attractive boys she's ever seen with a sultry English accent to match, but his arrogance and murderous tendencies were a definite turn off. Most importantly Caroline was with Tyler, she was happy with Tyler, and it angered her that Katherine would think she'd feel that way about anyone else but him. It also sent paranoia through her mind, wondering if Katherine was the only one with these ridiculous accusations.

The professor turned on the lights, indicating the lecture was over, but made another announcement.

"For this project you will be assigned one partner, of my choosing, to conduct and present a spell. You can pick any type of spell you'd like as long as you get it approved by me first so, no hexing." She said with a small smile.

"I think she's referring to you, love." Klaus blurted.

Caroline didn't realize he was addressing her until she felt the whole class snickering while looking at her. The professor settled down the class instigating while Caroline's eyes transformed to arrows and Klaus's face was the target.

Oh, so badly did she long to slap the stupid smirk off his face until it was red and bare. She hated how much she allowed him to snoop under her skin but he was just begging for a reaction with every stupid comment he would make.

"Mister Mikaelson," The professor clapped her hands together. "What an honor to have you in yet another one of my classes this semester. Since you clearly are so enthused by this assignment, you'll be the first person to receive their partner."

Caroline began packing up her belongings so she could exit the classroom as soon as possible. Being in Klaus's presence any longer than necessary was already giving her a rash.

Her movements ceased when she heard her name, not sure if she heard the context correctly.

- No. No, no there's no way.

"What?" Caroline questioned.

"Miss Forbes, I said I'm assigning you as Mister Mikaelson's partner so get to it!" The Professor clarified. "That will be all class, I'll see you on Thursday." She dismissed.

Caroline was frozen and distraught. Face drained of color and mouth opened slightly.

"Guess you'll have plenty of time to work out that, nonexistent sexual tension huh?" Katherine giggled before throwing her backpack over her shoulder and standing from her desk.

No...no...

How can this be?

The whole class literally just witnessed how terribly chaotic these two are being in the same room, let alone working on a project together for the next two weeks.

- What the fu-

Caroline was a range of emotions from pissed to confused to pissed all over again, and she definitely was not going to allow Klaus Mikaelson to have any affect on her grade.

She quickly snatched up her bag and hurried down the stairs of the lecture hall to confront her professor who was propped up on the wooden desk reading through an essay.

Of all the professors Caroline's experienced in her academic career, Professor Sommers was definitely her favorite. Her first name Jenna, but she preferred students address her as a professor; understandable. She was only about 12 years older than Caroline, mainly why she connected best with the students but still required respect and it was given. The first year Caroline attended one of her seminars she thought she was a fellow witch due to her knowledge in magic, but learned she was actually a banshee; practicing magic was a hobby.

Given that she was of one species but followed the practices of another was admirable, at least for Caroline and felt she was a reliable ally to talk to about certain struggles. They had a great trusting relationship wrapped with mutual respect, but today was the day where they might finally butt heads.

Caroline sighed when she reached her desk area. "Professor Sommers?"

"Caroline." She acknowledged still staring down at her paper. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

Licking her lips nervously she sighed again. "I respect you Professor, you know that and would usually never question your judgment but I think it is very unwise to pair me and Mister Mikaelson together for this project."

"Mister Mikaelson? So formal, you'd think we were strangers."

"One could only dream." She mumbled.

Of course he was standing right behind her.

"I have to say Professor, me and judgy here never see eye to eye but I have to agree with her on this one. So shouldn't that be incentive enough?" Klaus claimed now standing next to an annoyed Caroline.

"Seriously?" Professor Sommers's eyebrows raised intriguingly, placing her paper on the desk and folding her hands in her lap. "And why is that?"

Caroline scoffed. "Did you not see how completely rude and disrespectful he was towards me in class just now? Imagine what I would endure for two weeks?!"

"Ah, playing the victim." Klaus sighed. "Very typical witch behavior."

Caroline slammed her hand on the desk and faced him with her other hand on her hip. "Yes, I am a witch and you're a bloodthirsty vampire which already makes us a lethal combination." Turning towards the professor again. "We can't even have a civil conversation without him insulting me."

"Pot meets kettle." Klaus growled.

"Our factions are not meant to collaborate. You understand, right?" Addressing her teacher.

"Are you two done, or should I leave the room so you can continue your marital bickering?" Professor Sommers asked rubbing her temples.

"Yes, I understand completely how things work around here, I use to be in your shoes remember?" She began. "When I attended this school it was the exact same routine. Everyone stayed with their own, but I swore to myself that when I began teaching I was going to break that cycle. That's why I decided to teach a general education course, so not only I interact with every type of student but so that you all can interact with each other as well."

Klaus and Caroline both crossed their arms as she continued.

"Vampires and witches have never gotten along, I know. I've read countless amount of history books on it and have witnessed it my whole life but I don't care. This is the place where all your prejudices go away if you want to get a good grade, but more importantly to get a better insight on the supernatural world you're living in. You need each other more than you think." She concluded.

Caroline scoffed. "I highly doubt I will ever need him for anything."

Klaus chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well might as well get use to it because you're gonna need each other for this assignment. So you have two options: you can either be partners and guarantee yourself a good grade or you refuse to work together and receive an 'F' which means you fail the class and can't graduate this semester. Up to you?" The professor shrugged nonchalantly.

As if they had a choice.

The way both side eyed each other then dishearteningly conceded to the terms was proof of that.

"That's what I thought. See you both on Thursday." She smiled then waved them off as they walked out of class.

Klaus's shoulder purposely collided with Caroline's as they both attempted exiting through the door. His skin brushed hers chillingly making her jump back unexpectedly.

He didn't bother acknowledging her awkwardness even when she began walking ahead of him.

"You should watch where you're going, love." Klaus suggested.

The blonde growled, turning on her heel and charging back his friction until she was directly in his face.

"Listen we might be forced to work together but let's get some things clear: we are not friends okay?" She began. "We do not engage in any kind of conversation or interaction outside of this classroom and assignment, got it?"

Both of Klaus's eyebrows shot up at her demands. He wasn't sure if he was more offended or impressed.

Instead of pestering, he nodded his head. "Understood, love."

"Oh and another thing, you will stop calling me by those stupid pet names. My name isn't 'love." She hissed.

Klaus's smirk grew mischievously, making Caroline tense. His eyes appeared dangerous and amused staring back into hers.

The gulp she just initiated didn't go unnoticed by Klaus who tilted his head curiously walking towards her. His steps careful and light.

Caroline didn't realize how many steps he had taken until her back was now against the wall. Both his hands placed beside both sides of her head trapping her in his hold. The warmth of his breath fanned her reddened face. Her entire body felt hot and tingly from his stare alone. Dark eyes and dark thoughts.

Their chests nearly touching, hers heaving when she finally looked up at him. His trance took its usual effect as it dragged her in once again.

They were completely out in the open, bodies almost connecting against a drywall as if no one would walk by and see. Caroline should've been more aware of someone seeing them in this position but she found herself caring very little.

Not the way his full red lips complimented those sparkly eyes. Caroline had never been this close to him, noticing the stream of green around his iris and the blue-green hue masking the simple blue she's grown to know.

He hadn't touched her and they hadn't done anything, and nothing was going to happen, so why did she feel so dirty?

- Maybe because you aren't pushing him away?

Caroline blinked repeatedly, swallowing. "What are you doing?"

He grinned at the hoarseness in her voice. "Nothing, nothing at all. You're the one making all the rules here. You said no more pet names so I wanna know what I should call you then..." Klaus claimed. "Princess, sweetheart, Goldilocks..." He listed jokingly but sensually, twirling a strand of one of her blonde curls between his fingers.

The move so casual yet erotic.

Caroline's hands began to sweat at the feel of his finger slightly brushing her cheek. She balled her fists till her nails dug into her palms as her hair remained in his soft grasp.

She unintentionally looked down to his lips but quickly back up to his eyes.

The lump in her throat bobbed up and down from her harsh gulp. He always examined her so thoroughly it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"My name is Caroline. That's what you can call me. Clear?" She demanded still fixated on his intimidating glare.

He smirked. "Such a prude. Pet names are much more entertaining." Klaus commented twirling her hair delicately. "But all right, I'll play by your rules but just so you're clear," Moving closer into her space. "For the sake of my grade and not being expelled for murder I'll let your attitude towards me go this time. But that's the only say you'll have from here on out. I don't take demands from anyone, especially not from a prissy judgmental witch who always has her knickers in a twist."

Klaus caught her wrist mid air when she quickly raised it in an attempt to slap him across the face.

Her fiery eyes matched his that were now the threatening golden hue.

She nearly winced in pain at how hard he was holding onto her. Through all their bantering and insults Klaus never seemed genuinely upset with her, until now.

Caroline was breathing heavily, not just from the rushed motion of her attempted assault but from the burning feel of Klaus's touch. Like his hand was burning a hole into her flesh. His grip tightened as he pulled her back from the wall and closer to his chest; still keeping a short distance between their bodies. Both their faces tense and red in anger. Their breaths hot and labored fogging the air between them.

The black spidery veins outlining his cheekbones oddly fascinated Caroline, she couldn't resist staring at them. How was he able to make them appear on and off? What was the purpose?

Everything about vampires didn't make sense to her.

Noticing her lingering stares, Klaus's expression relaxed and his grip on her wrist loosened. He didn't even realize he wasn't saying anything this whole time, or remember what he planned to say initially. As if the seeing into her eyes, closely, for the first time struck an uncomfortable cord of emotion through him.

Klaus took a deep breath retreating his vampire features. Even showing her that side of who he was made him feel weak, and Caroline Forbes of all people didn't deserve to see it.

Caroline felt she was snapped back to reality when his face returned to normal. The window of fascination finally closed.

He finally dropped her hand and balled his fists together and face in front of hers.

"I wouldn't try that again." His voice low and threatening pushing his hands off the wall to create a distance between their bodies.

Of course he disappeared by the time Caroline caught her breath and turned his direction. Her breathing mellowing down as she settled her body against the wall. She pushed her hair back with her fingers and licking her dry lips tiredly. Feeling like her skin was ablaze and the wind was knocked out of her from his stare alone.

And touch...

- What just happened?

The link to the rest of the chapter is above! Reviews are appreciated, thanks loves (:

[kookie-vith-suga]

Act

Summary: “Just pretend to be my boyfriend till he comes back” or the time you asked the twin brother of your boyfriend to help you out

Word count: 1872

Warnings: Nothing

Author’s note: I hope this makes any sense. 

–> Masterlist <–

Recent: Distance  –>  Closeness --> Unification

“Why do you never bring a boyfriend with you?”, my aunt asked.

“Because I don’t have one.” I tried to sound polite.

“But you are a beautiful young lady. Why are you not putting yourself out there?! When I was your age...I knew how to live life..” She winked at me. Did my 65 year old aunt just told me that my life is boring.. I think I hit rock bottom.

“Even your sister found someone and she is younger than you”, my grandmother barged in.

“I am well aware of that”, I surpressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Have you ever thought about the fact that I maybe don’t want a boyfriend? I am perfectly fine by myself.”

Everyone started laughing. “Don’t lie, Y/N.”

“This is for real something only single people would say.”

“Maybe she is gay...”

The comments were thrown in from all sides burying my little bit of pride that I had left. I groaned in frustration and got up.

That had been me last year. I have sworn myself this year would be different and I should be proven right.

“The holidays started”, I sighed and looked at the clock. My shift was over just now.

“You should be thankful that you can visit your hometown”, my colleague pointed out, “I cannot go since they are living to far away.”

“I know and I am thankful...but sometimes my family can also be a whole handful when they all gathered up.”

“That is how familys work though...”, she shrugged.

I started gathering my clothes. “I am off. Happy Thanksgiving!” I hugged her goodbye.

“Happy Thanksgiving and greetings to everyone! I am sure it is gonna be fine so enjoy your time”, she showed me a warming smile.

“If you knew”, you mumbled to yourself while leaving the office.

“Namjoon it is me. Are you there?”

“Hey babe.” He exited the living room with a small suitcase in his hands. He put it down and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. My heart still skipped a beat every minor contact we have. He went back to his room so I followed him. The doors of his wardrobe were torn open and he had the suitcase sprawled out on the bed.

“Why are you packing already? We will not leave before tomorrow morning”, I questioned lying down on his bed stretching my limbs.

“Oh umm about that...”, he stopped and faced me scratching his neck, “Something very important has come up and I have to work. My flight is leaving tonight.”

“What?!”, I straightened and eyed him with a careful look, “You are joking right? Please tell me this is one of your stupid jokes!”

“Unfortunately not...But I will try to come as soon as I am done.”

“And how long will you be away then?”

“I don’t know. The deal can be sealed tomorrow but also next week”, he sat down next to me and tried reaching for me.

“Really?! Next week?”, I slapped his hand away, “You promised that you will come with me! I told everyone about it already. What am I supposed to say now?”

“I know this meant a lot to you, babe but I cannot change it. Just tell them we will meet them on Christmas.”

“No! You don’t understand this! My family consists of the most invasive people you can imagine. They will not believe me and say that I lied about you”

“Come one Y/N. I am sure it is not like this. Also maybe I will be able to catch up. Then you do not need to worry so could you just calm down for now.”

“Just calm down”, I repeated angrily, “You know what. Don’t bother! Just stay here alone and eat some deep-frozen turkey. I don’t want to see you anyway.”

“Y/N...you don’t mean it that way. You are just angry.”

“I mean it exactly like I said it! And stop analyzing me! I get it, you are the mature one and I am just the whiny kid! Good day, Namjoon.” I stormed out of his room. I had a hard time suppressing my tears when I put on my shoes. As I straightened and grabbed my bag from the shelf I accidentally kicked down a photo. Quickly I picked it up again. It showed Namjoon and next to him a guy who looked like an exact copy of him. Suddenly an idea stroke through my head but it was interrupted by Namjoon calling for me. I hurried out the door with a smile on my face. That is what you get for leaving me hanging!

“You want me to do what?”, a clearly perplexed Hoseok questioned.

“Just be my boyfriend till he comes back”, I stated like it was obvious.

He chuckled. “Do you heard what you say?”

“I know it is something rather strange to ask but I really need your help!”, I made a pouty face.

“Does Namjoon know about this?”

“Of course! He even suggested it since he knew I would be angry”, I lied biting down on my lip hoping he would believe me.

“Fine then. I will do it. When will we leave?”

It took a load of my mind. “Thank you so much!”,I hugged happily, “Tomorrow morning.”

“Great!”, his arms wrapped around me as well.

We pulled up the driveway in front of my parents house. The drive was quite enjoyable to my surprise. I told him something about all the family members who will join us so he will not be too shocked. He laughed a lot about my descriptions not knowing that they were all true. He will see it himself soon. We knocked and only a second later my mom opened the door.

“Y/N!”, she took me in her arms and planted kisses all over my face, “It is so good to have you back.”

“Hello to you too....But can you maybe let go of me now so I can breath again?”, I laughed.

She let go laughing as well. “Sure, sure. Come on in guys.” We did as we were said. She waited till we have put down our baggage to greet Hoseok.

“You must be Namjoon. I gotta say you look even more handsome than on the pictures she showed me”, she exclaimedoverly excited, “It is really so nice to finally meet you in person too! I fell like I have known you already for a long time since all Y/N does is talking about you.” My mom pulled him into a hug.

“Is that so?” He looked over her shoulder to me and grinned cheekily. “I am quite surprised.”

I shot him a death glare and mouthed: “Play along.”

She let go of him. “Sure she does. But what is more important now: How was your drive? Did you had a lot of traffic? You guys must be hungry! I just made a pie. It is still warm.”

“Thank you mom but I think we will go upstairs first and unpa-”

“I really like to have a piece of pie. Thank you Miss Y/L/N”, he interrupted me looking at my mother.

“Why so formal? Just call me Jane! We are one family now, sweetie. Okay follow me.” My mom headed to the kitchen.

“Thank you Jane. By the way you got a beautiful house here.” He completly ignored my second attempt of an death glare and walked behind her.

I sighed out loud starting to regret that idea. I think I might as well can expect the worst....

We kinda survived the first few hours. More and more relalitives have arrived  so the house was pretty packed now. Everyone was incredible curious about me “finally” having a  boyfriend that I could not spare a second alone with Hoseok to set some rules. Hoseok seemed to pretty much enjoy this whole play. He was using every chance to put his hands on me. My waist, my thigh or even my ass always combined with a devilish smirk because he must be well aware that I will not push him away as long as everyone was watching. So I tried to keep my distance by finding excuses to not always stay by his side.

He was currently talking to my aunt when I walked up to him.

“Oh Y/N! You really got a smart boyfriend here.”

“Aha. Thank you”, I answered halfhearted smile.

“What is it with that frown? Be a little more thankful or else he could be gone soon again.”

I did not had to look over to him because I knew he would have that fucking grin up his face.

“You should listen to her. She is a wise lady”, he nudged me with his elbow.

That was the moment I was close to exploding. “Excuse us please.” I grabbed his arm forcefully and made him follow me into the nearest room which happened to be my parents bedroom.

“I do like it rough but not exactly like that”, he rubbed over his arm.

“What is fucking wrong with you? Do you need to behave like this?”

“Like what?”

“Don’t you dare to play dumb!”

“I thought you want me to act like your boyfriend”, he remarked dryly.

“Yeah ACT is the special key word here. Because to me it does not seem like this is hard for you...”

“Because it isn’t.”

“Well maybe then you should hold yourself back a little more since I am still Namjoon’s girlfriend.”

“Are you sure? Because either you are lying to yourself or you have lied to me. I know for a fact that Namjoon would never agree to such a settlement if he knew it. Especially not if it meant that I could be all lovey dovey with his “girlfriend”, he emphazised the last word mockingly, “He was always the jealous one of us.”

I opened my mouth only to let it fall shut again. “I am sorry”, I said after a while sitting down on the bed.

“I should apologise too. I kinda overstepped the boundaries but I wanted to hear it from you.”

“So you knew it all along?”

He nodded.

“Why did you accepted it in the first place then?” I did not know how or why, but he got me curious.

“Maybe because I wanted to score him off for always being so complacent.”

“Maybe?”

“But maybe also because I liked you ever since we have met that day and wanted to convince you that you have chosen the wrong brother...”

He was standing right in front of me slowly bending down. I automatically moved backwards till I was fully lying down and he was towering over me.

“May-be?”, it fell slowly from my lips. I would have lied if I would not say my heart was beating at an unusual fast pace.

“Or maybe because I have always wondered how these sweet, rosy lips would taste.” He was tracing the outlines with his thumb. His scent was engulfing me as his lips came dangerously close to mine.

Suddenly the door was opened. Both of our heads shot into the direction.

Fuck.

That escalated quickly :D It really took me way too long to write but now it is done :) I hope you like this @cherrygatz ♥

Please tell me if you want me to continue ;)

[latitudesunknown]

Day 45 in Tiny Haven

Today in Tiny Haven: 1st of May extravaganza, new neighbour, old friends, and the end of all things.

The morning starts with a lovely thank you card from Renée, in return for that flower I sent her the other day.

(1) Another blatant example of shy lesbian flirting; have I worked on this game and just don’t remember it?

Later, she even finds me a new nickname. I worried it would replace “champ”, but from later interactions with the other inhabitants, it seems I can have several nicknames at once.

(2) You can call me whatever you want, honestly.

But without further ado, let’s check out Tom Nook’s “1st of May extravaganza”! 

(3) 

First surprise, I can’t take ANY item with me, not even my trusty tools. Tom Nook is taking this relaxing thing very seriously, isn’t he?

But then I actually step on the island and...

It’s a maze!

The only reason I couldn’t take my tools with me is that part of the maze riddle is finding the tools I need to uproot trees and smash down rocks.

I’ll have to talk to Marie about the meaning of the word “relax”, but no matter, I’m actually fairly excited...

... especially when I spot a mysterious figure waiting at the end of the maze. Who could it be? Why are they here? And most importantly...

...how the FUCK do I get out of here? 🤔

I’m very bad at mazes. After a lot of running around in circles, sitting down on logs to stare at emptiness, and jumping over holes like a kangaroo, I finally make my way to the exit, and meet the loveliest purple cat I’ve ever seen. 💜

(4) Charly is adorable, and I am BEREFT at not being able to invite them on my island.

(5) I like you too! Please move to my island?

Unfortunately, no matter how many times I try talking to them, the option to invite them over never pops up, and I leave the island dragging my feet, a bit lukewarm about Tom’s extravaganza day.

I get back home to find Nacer is also dragging his feet, wondering if he should move away. Why can’t it be Phebus, or even Raymond?

(6) I do love the fact that he would rather move out than clean his house. 

Even better when you know his house literally has a bed and a table and that’s it.

(7) Yes! Let’s run together, hand in hand, in slow motion!

Talking about Phebus, I have to admit he’s been acting nicer, which I’m guessing is thanks to Intimidating Marie, but that won’t save you, Phebus. You WILL go away the first chance I get.

(8) That’s a lie, as well. I couldn’t squeeze in on that bench!

And talking about my neighbours, I have a new one to visit!

(9) Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Kali’s neck deep in cardboard boxes, but I love what he’s done with the place so far, despite the lack of windows (what do all these people have against daylight?). However, considering what Raymond and Phebus did with their place, Kali’s probably going to fill his with trash or something.

I run into Abraham in the shop, and we both consider mortgaging our house to buy a diamond ring.

(10) I always suspected Abraham was surviving on fruit water and candy. 🍬

The only thing that saves me is that I literally wouldn’t be able to decide who to offer it to. Marie? Renée? Vanessa? Cousette? Thibou’s sister?? Lili??! DON’T MAKE ME CHOOSE!!!

Since there is yet another inhabitant on the island, I decide to drop by City Hall, to see if our island’s rating has gone up.

It has, we’re rated ⭐⭐⭐ now, and there is a new review...

(11) “K.L.”?

I swear, the second I read those letters, my blood turns cold.

And Tom’s reaction only confirms my suspicions.

(12) We got a review from Keke!

Marie is appropriately shocked, bless her.

I’m assuming nobody needs a subtitle for this one.

I’m honestly a little flummoxed myself. Getting Keke to the island was supposed to take a lot of hard word and dedication. I assumed I’d need to tidy up the island, create a proper concert space, spend a ton of money, but in the end all it took was getting more people to live here?

(and Abraham’s cell door, obviously)

Considering Keke’s coming to the island is the “end” of the game, I had expected more, and also... I’m not ready! Reaching the end of a game, no matter that the “end” is a lie, is something I hate! I can’t tell you how many final bosses I haven’t beaten just because I didn’t want the game to properly end! (Zelda’s still waiting for Link to come back in Breath of the Wild. It’s been two years)

But what’s done is done.

And Tom impresses me to no end by being bold enough to actually call Keke on the phone, right then and there. He doesn’t even rehearse the conversation before picking up the phone!

(13) You’ve got balls of brass, Tom.

Anyway, long story short, Keke is supposed to drop by for a concert soon, no idea exactly when that will be, or if I need to prepare anything for him.

When I ask Tom “What should I do”, he gives me the answer I never thought I’d read...

(14) Well I’ll be.

Still a little rattled by all those incredible developments, I realize I haven’t said “hi” to someone today (my phone keeps track), and I honestly have no idea who I might have missed, until I enter Vanessa’s house...

The poor dear’s been sick all day and I hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t around!

(15) My poor darling. Here, have a cure!

She’s back on her feet in no time, thank god.

I end this incredibly busy day by stargazing. The skies in Tiny Haven are beyond compare, especially to a city girl who, at one point, so forgot what stars looked like she mistook one for a plane and wondered why it wasn’t moving at all.

.

Subtitles

(1) Maddy, The most beautiful gifts are the ones we do not expect! I cannot find the right words, but I know you understand what I'm trying to say. See you very soon, I hope! That was Renée.

(2) I thought I would call you... "waffle". Do you like it, big foot?

(3) He'll keep an eye on your possessions in the airport while you're going on your mission with empty wings. Or empty hands.

(4) It's the first time I come here. Isn't this island... a little weird? What brings you here, by the way?

(5) Mia ha ha! I knew it! You're fun, I like you.

(6) I haven't cleaned my house in forever. It's not a mess, it's a domestic apocalypse.

(7) But... this changes everything. We're not done running hand in hand on the tracks of friendship, you and I!

(8) If you need a breather, there's more than enough space for the two of us on this bench!

(9) Oh, Maddy! There it is: from this morning, I live on this island. We're neighbours!

(10) A diamond ring for 69 000 bells! That's more than a month's candy-money!

(11) "Tiny Haven... what a dope island, from what people say... I'd love to visit, if I get the chance... - K.L."

(12) That message was written by the one and only Keke Slider!

(13) Yes, hello! Do I have the honour of speaking to Mr Keke Slider?

(14) You've already accomplished so much... You've earned a rest and the chance to enjoy this island as you see fit!

(15) Argh... I n-need to stop... sh-shaking...

[edourado]

Lists

My humble entry for #kastleradio week. I plan on writting a big, steamier piece, but this has been sitting around in my brain for a while, I thought this was a good week to write it down and post it. 

I cannot resist the “Frank takes care of Karen” trope. Won’t even try. 

This was inspired by the song “Gravity”, by Sarah Bareilles. 

I hope you enjoy. 

Much love.

An explosion. A fucking explosion.

He knew Karen was careless - despite her many claims otherwise - but to be caught in an explosion was a little too much.

Still, she kept insisting she was fine.

He climbed through her window not twenty minutes after finding out what happened - and not really thinking about how quickly he would drop everything at the mention of her name - and found her in bed.

Frank masked the sigh of relief that left him with an irritated scoff.

“You're something else, did you know that?” he told her, closing her window and walking towards her. At least she had the decency of looking sheepish. “Let me see”, he asked, sitting by the edge of her bed after shedding his coat and his vest.

She had bruises and cuts and scrapes on her face, her neck, her shoulder, her arms, her legs. When he pressed, she told him a heavy chunk of metal flew right at her ribs, and she was having some trouble standing straight. Nothing was broken, though.

“Have you been to a doctor?”

“Yes, Frank, of course I have.”

“And you're taking time off work.”

She nodded.

“I'm gonna kill Red”, he said, suddenly incredibly irritated, shocked, even, that he wasn't informed about her, he spent almost 24 hours not knowing, not even imagining she was caught up in the explosion that almost made Max bark out of his skin.

“I asked him not to tell you”, she confessed.

“Why in the name of fuck-”

“Because I knew you were gonna fuss!”

He fixed her with a hard look, and he was impressed. Most soldiers under him couldn’t sustain that. Karen Page did.

“I don't fuss, ma’am. And that was a stupid ass thing to do.”

She looked at him.

“Which thing?”

“The list is long”, he said, covering her back up. “Do you need anything?”

“Frank, I told you, I'm-”

“Just tell me if you need anything, you stubborn woman”, he breathed out, getting up from her bed. He felt too dirty and her linens looked too clean.

“Well”, she said after a second. “Now that you asked, I could eat.”

He put his cap on and left, her dinner order memorized. When he came back, this time entering through the front door, he had a duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Are you moving in?” She asked, trying to sit up.

“For a while, yes I am.”

They were passed the stage where he refused to occupy her space. Her old couch had the imprint of his back on it, until she got rid of it and got a new one, more comfortable. He didn't sleep there as often as he liked (also another thing he was past doing: telling himself he didn't like crashing at her place), but it had happened.

“I already have a nurse, you know”, she said and he looked her way while dropping the bag on the chair by the window. She was mostly teasing, that small smile that could tear down walls appearing.

He liked to think that that was his smile. A strange unpleasant feeling surged inside him when he imagined her smiling like that at someone else.

“Where’s Max?” she asked.

“Red has him.”

She laughed weakly.

“I’d like to see Matt taking care of a dog.”

Frank shed his coat again, and placed the bag with her food on her bedside table, walking to the kitchen to get a tray.

When he came back, she was moving about the bed a bit, and he rushed to help.

"I can do it, I can do it, it's OK”, she said when he reached for her.

With the skeptical look, Frank let her try and sit up by herself, but she hissed and screwed her eyes shut.

“Ow, ow, ow, shit”, she exclaimed under her breath and took the hand he offered.

“Cracked ribs, ma’am. They're a bitch.”

When he was done placing pillows behind her back and under her elbows and making sure she was not feeling pain, he placed the tray and the food in front of her.

They ate together, she in bed and him sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, listening as she told him about being caught in the explosion of the office of a gangster.

“And why the hell were you interviewing a gangster?” He asked after swallowing his forkful of food.

“He was looking to take the place vacated by Cornell Stokes. Someone has to expose his true colors. It was a good story.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and ate another bite, watching as she took the fork to her mouth slowly.

“Well, now he’s dead.”

When they were done eating, he asked if she wanted coffee, and she shook her head.

"Tea.”

"Ok”, he whispered, taking the tray and the dishes to the kitchen. “Ok if I take a shower?” He asked when he came back with the steaming mug, placing it on her bedside table.

She smiled.

“If you're going to live here, I hope showers are a regular thing", she said, teasing again. "Do you mind if I brush my teeth first?"

Frank helped her up, mindful of her scrapes and her bruises, a hand supporting her ribs while she took slow, measured steps towards the bathroom, her right hand tight around his.

She was wearing a big shirt and small pajama shorts, and a small part of his brain registered that he liked that she was so comfortable around him, not even feeling the need to wrap a robe around herself.

Frank took his shower after she took her painkillers and was sipping on tea, assuring him she would be able to lie back down by herself.

When he exited the bathroom, he felt refreshed, wearing sweatpants and a clean shirt. Karen was lying down, but he still adjusted the pillows against her.

"Hey", she called when he moved to go to the living room and settle for the night. "You don't have to take the couch… If you don't want to", she said, voice soft.

He looked at her for a second, considering, trying to convince himself not to.

"I promise I won't kick you”, she said in a whisper, blinking slowly.

There were several reasons for him to take the vacant spot by her side. She might need to get up during the night, he might need to get her a glass of water, she might feel some pain, he should keep an eye on her ribs, her mattress would be better for his back than the couch, she might feel safer with him there, they were both adults in the 21st century.   

All those things were true. The one thing that made him say “Ok” and settle by her, watching as she turned on her side, facing him, and watch her face until she fell asleep was not on that list.

[selfinsertsuki]

OTP Answers

From this post

Who is a fussy eater and who will eat food even if they’ve dropped it on the floor?

Fussy eater: Hanzo, cannot even eat something if it touched an sanitized counter-top.

Heathen: Me, who declares ‘5 SECOND RULE’ each and every time. Gotta build that immune system bruh

Who constantly tries to get the other to shower with them?

Me, though I frequently fail due the fact that I already take like half-hour showers I don’t need to be encouraged to take even longer ones.

Who was popular in high school and who lies that they were just to impress the other?

Neither of us were popular nor do we attempt to lie about anything, but we do share stories of being in choir and seeing theater kid shit (me) and having to endure all of Genji’s playboy shenanigans (Hanzo).

Who is incredible in bed and completely knocks the other off their feet the first time they have sex?

If there is anything I will ever claim in my life to be good at, I can attest to my apparent skills of mad dick-sucking game. Git fuckin’ gud Hanzo Shimada.

Who plays video games and who snuggles up next to them as they play?

Hanzo plays the games, and I definitely am too lazy to do anything other than lay on him and watch him play the games. Occasionally back-seat gaming though, because GOD DAMMIT HANZO RIGHT THERE, SHOOT RIGHT--THERE’S A FUCKING D.VA BEHIND YOU.

Who is horny ALL OF THE TIME?

My asexual ass is never technically horny-horny but I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t be the one always asking for some premium dick here.

Who is sleepy and cuddly ALL OF THE TIME?

ME

Who knocks on the other’s door crying at 4am?

Both of us. At the same time. We just watched Bambi and we’re both very emotional.

Who would have 10 pets if they could and who is adorably shy around animals?

Me, holding at least 10 hamsters, a rat on each shoulder, and a kitten hanging off my leg: Hey Hanzo-

Who takes like 10 minutes of persuading to get out of bed each morning?

Hanzo is awake like half an hour before his alarm goes off. By the time I roll out of bed he’s already showered, dressed, breakfast made, checkbook balanced, world peace achieved-

Who collects rocks and shells when they go to the beach and who thinks it’s dumb?

Neither of us thinks its dumb, and instead have a competition to get the coolest shells. Unfortunately for me when I show him one, I didn’t think to check that it was already in use by a local hermit crab and friend. The hermit crab is now our second son.

Who picks fights for no reason just so they can have kinky sex?

Neither of us do because we have a fair sense of open-communication for our sex life, and also because we both know we’re kinky fuckers and he’s not afraid to ask if he wants me to like, put on cat ears or something.

Who secretly admires the hell out of the other and thinks they’re the bravest person they’ve ever met?

We both do but constantly neglect to tell the other due to our aggressive social anxiety.

Who has an adorable sneeze and who sneezes so aggressively they pull a muscle?��

Hanzo: *delicate sneeze, very cute, soft, adorable* Me: *SATAN IS HERE AND HE’S TRYING TO EXIT THROUGH MY NOSE* Me: I’m dying, Hanzo

Who wants to have sex at work/school and who is terrified of getting caught?

Hanzo has something for exhibitionism and I, most assuredly, do not.

Who smells the hell out of the other’s shirts when they’re away but pretends that they don’t?

Both, but for *coughs* different....reasons....

Who believes in astrology and who doesn’t care and just wants the other to make out with them? 

Me: Hanzo just sit your ass down and let me read your goddamn tarot cards okay Hanzo: ... Me: Okay look at this spread, it’s saying that we need to fuck right now

Who would survive the apocalypse and who wouldn’t stand a chance?

Listen. LISTEN. I have an entire mental AU dedicated to this very question. 

Hanzo would survive like the beautiful motherfucker he is and I, a mere plebeian, would probably get stuck in a tree or something.

Who is majorly ticklish and who is the tickle-attacker?

Hanzo once made the mistake of thinking tickling me was a good idea, and subsequently AND accidentally got kicked in the face.

Who greatly exaggerates being sick every time they feel even a little poorly just so the other will take care of them?

Me: Hanzo, I’m dying Hanzo: You just have allergies Me: I’m dying, quick, come kiss me better

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

@titanstogetherr

Oh, Peter’s not a dick for leaving the party, he’s a dick for not treating Mary Jane like an equal partner in their relationship. She’s his girlfriend. His decision to leave the party without her directly affects her and she, therefore, deserves a say in it. Or to at least know about it.

A mysterious blackout in a city overflowing with superheroes and cops is not something that was so urgent that he couldn’t have spared ten seconds to stick his head into the party, say, “Hey, Red, I think I’m gonna go take pics of the blackout now. You might want to ask Betty and Ned or Robbie to walk you home.” He has a built-in excuse! J. Jonah Jameson was RIGHT THERE and likely would have ordered him to leave and take pictures anyhow. They could have planned out what they were going to do.

Sure, there were plenty of people she could’ve asked to walk her home….but she had no idea whether or not that was even necessary because Peter didn’t think she was important enough to inform about what was happening. For all she knew, he ducked out to buy a soda and could return any second, in which case she should wait for him. Or he left to take pictures and could maybe take all night, which meant she needed to find her own way home. She didn’t know where he was or what she should do about it because he didn’t discuss it with her and let her have a say in their plans. WHICH IS A DICK MOVE. He was treating her as though she, her well-being, and her feelings did not matter enough to him to do her that basic courtesy, which is precisely the complaint she is making, and she’s right. Simply put, Peter failed to treat her like an equal partner in their relationship – she gets to have a say in decisions that affect her. He cannot unilaterally make them for her.

Being a superhero doesn’t justify treating the people in your life like dirt, absolve you from criticism, or mean you shouldn’t be held accountable for your actions.

Personally, if I went to a party on a date with a significant other—with the understanding that we would leave together too—and they left without talking to me about it, I would be just as livid as MJ. Even if I knew they were a superhero. Just. Let me know what’s going on? It is incredibly fucking rude to ditch your date without so much as a word in pretty much every context I can think of. Including this one. It makes it seem as though you do not give a damn about them or your relationship. It’s disrespectful, and props to Mary Jane for calling Peter out on it and not allowing herself to be treated so carelessly without standing up for herself.

Helping the city is fine. Not letting your girlfriend have a say in decisions that affect her? Less fine.

Separate though tangentially-related issue: I am also in no way a fan of the “I MUST LIE TO PROTECT MY FRAGILE GIRLFRIEND” trope. It’s sexist, patriarchal, and condescending. Mary Jane deserves the right to make an informed decision about dating Peter, a superhero, and all that entails. Including occasionally leaving parties early without her. (Yes, I know it was retconned so that she knew all along, but it doesn’t justify the fact that Peter chose never to tell her, no matter how serious their relationship got, which includes a proposal. Or Gwen, who died without knowing who he was, for that matter.)

Also…please explain to me how magically disappearing from a balcony with no discernible exit in any way helps him hide his secret identity from anyone at that party. Especially since, if MJ and/or anyone else had walked out two seconds earlier, they would have seen him dangling off of that helicopter. How is that preferable to saying goodbye and leaving through the front door like a regular, unsuperpowered person and thus NOT arousing suspicion?

Nope. It was a terrible way of handling the situation any way you look at it, and, again, MJ is right to be angry at his clear lack of respect for her.

P.S. – I was laughing at Harry, who I generally like very much, affectionately for his nosiness. The way those panels CLEARLY want you to do. They are setting it up to be funny, which is pretty damn obvious???? Harry tends to just generally be pretty nosy? It’s endearing most of the time???

Don’t you love it when someone is too cowardly to continue a conversation so they block you?

Yeah no.

 As I explained up top, there was an emergency and a small window of opportunity for him to act upon it.

 Emergency which could result in people getting hurt>Leaving a party without telling your boyfriend/girlfriend.

 Does MJ deserve a say in it? Yeah...except again...emergency.

 I mean honestly if like a police officer was at a party across the street from where a crime was in the middle of being comittied where someone was going to be hurt is would they be a dick for leaving their boyfriend/girlfriend without a word to resolve the situation?

 No. Like...not even a little bit.

 Sorry, there are bigger priorities at play here.

 And yeah actually it is super duper urgent for him to have dropped everything and leave right there. Putting aside how every minute people could be getting hurt (and he’d have to be finding MJ amidst the party crowd anyway in the dark) he needed to get onto the copter ASAP as it was flying over head. His window of opportunity was small.

 Let’s also put aside how in every super hero series basically the wider shared universe gets ignored unless the writer wants to acknowledge it meaning that no this and other books don’t operate on the basis of ‘this isn’t urgent because the Avengers exist so why should I worry’, the cops have a proven track record of being useless when it comes to super villains which the black out obviously was the work of. It wasn’t a random black out of one area, it was a systematic series, obviously deliberate. The cops on the ground (who were probably going to be simultaneously struggling in the darkness and have their hands full of whoever was taking advantage of the situation) could never have deduced the culprit and the police chopper which could’ve surveyed the situation couldn’t have mobilized action as quickly as Spider-Man could have. And even if they could have they would’ve been in immense danger because yeah, it was a full on super villain the average officer wouldn’t be able to handle.

 All this plus how was he supposed to make the excuse that he was going to get pictures when he literally didn’t have his camera? And everyone saw that he didn’t have it.

  As for what MJ thought, in context she could probably have deduced that he’d gone off to take pictures, but in hindsight she knew he’d gone off to be Spider-Man. Which doesn’t means he isn’t entitled to be mad, but she probably knew enough that she’d have to go home with someone sans Peter. It’s not even like this is the first time he’s done this, she knows he has to disappear at a drop of a hat. Even ignoring that she could just go home with somebody else, she didn’t need t wait for him, she knows he can get home by himself.

  But again...that’s really quite trivial next to the supervillain causing massive powercuts which endangers whole blocks worth of people.

 It’s not that her feelings objectively or from Peter’s POV don’t matter. It’s just that Jesus Christ they 100% do not matter in the face of this large scale pressing problem in which there is a massive danger to people’s lives.

  Like....perspective!

 She’s got a right to be angry, but he didn’t ACTUALLY do anything morally reprehensible. I can even understand why she was mad post Parallel Lives. But again...he was right.

 Trying to stop a supervillain who’s causing blackouts which are endangering shittons of people ASAP>Common Courtesy

 Emergencies>Common Courtesy

 He wasn’t making a decision for her (a ridiculous over extrapolation). He wasn’t treating her like dirt. He was addressing an urgent emergency which was by several magnitudes more important.

 If he really was just a photographer and just bounced without telling her then yeah, he would be an asshole. He wasn’t though, there was much more at stake than that.

 If you knew that your partner was a superhero and that they bounced to handle an obviously immediate emergency where people’s lives were at risk and you were livid over it then that’s more a dick move on your part than theirs. Innocent lives>your relationship.

 Letting you know what’s going on is one thing when there is time to spare and that’s easy, under these conditions it wasn’t. He was concerned about raising suspicions, he had a great avenue for getting to and assessing the crisis and thereby resolving it faster in order to help people. So again no, Peter was not being rude, or a dick. He was just trying to avoid people getting hurt. What an asshole I guess.

  In context yeah to MJ it might have seemed like he didn’t value her or the relationship, but again, we know int he issue, from past issues, and in hindsight that that’s blatantly not true. It was a great character moment for her and the story nevertheless, but at face value she isn’t actually morally justified because again we know what Peter was doing and why he was doing it.

 “Helping the city is fine. Not letting your girlfriend have a say in decisions that affect her? Less fine.”

  Again the safety of the city>MJ getting home. Also again, he wasn’t preventing her from having a decision. He was responding to an emergency whilst trying to protect his identity, that thing that’s endangered people when it’s gotten out.

  “Separate though tangentially-related issue: I am also in no way a fan of the “I MUST LIE TO PROTECT MY FRAGILE GIRLFRIEND” trope. It’s sexist, patriarchal, and condescending.”

  Then it’s a good thing that was absolutely not present in any way shape or form in this story then wasn’t it.

 Peter wasn’t lying to protect his fragile girlfriend. He was trying to protect his identity so that his life and the lives of ALL those cloe to him would not become endangered.

 Again...what a dick. What a dick move from the guy who was terrorized by three different lunatics who knew his secret and who killed someone he loved, nearly killed other people he loved, and who nearly mentally broke him.

 Also question. Was it sexist, patriarchal, condescending and other year one sociology glossary terms when Spider-Girl, Wonder Woman or female superheroes in general ever did the exact same thing?

  “Mary Jane deserves the right to make an informed decision about dating Peter, a superhero, and all that entails.”

  Not really.

  By this logic everyone of Peter’s friends should have the right to know who he is.

 But the more people who know his secret the less secret it is and thereby the more chance of it getting out and hurting people there are.

 Not to mention he has no idea if they are trustworthy or not, or how willing they are to bear the burden of knowledge.

 If he just comes out and tells Mary Jane and she can’t handle it, or if she for whatever reason reveals it Peter’s life and Aunt May’s life are going to be destroyed. Whilst maybe he doesn’t think this of Mary Jane specifically, anyone he confides in may well fall out with him (even more likely in romantic relationships compared to friendships) and thereby use that knowledge against him in some way. Which again has already happened with immensely bad results.

 Thus far in his life Peter has had three girlfriends.

 Betty, Gwen and MJ.

 Betty was bonkers and whilst he wasn’t wholesale innocent, really mistreated him and became incredibly upset at the mere mention of Spider-Man when he tried to reveal his identity to her.

 Gwen not only hated Spider-Man, but worse reacted hysterically and believed the worst fo him when he initially revealed the truth to her in ASM #87.

 MJ and Harry similarly took that news very, very badly and in MJ’s case, Peter has only just seen her change from the carefree party girl she once was into someone who’s still like that but more serious.

 Under these circumstances why would Peter or anybody, male or female, be simply upfront with the single most intimate part of themselves which amounts to literal life or death?

 They wouldn’t. And if they were with everyone they dated, suddenly there are a shitton of security risks out there.

 I’m not saying anybody he is with doesn’t deserve to know eventually at some point. But Peter and Mary Jane have been together for less than a year  at the point of this story. They are serious, they are in love, they are going steady, but neither of them are certain about where things are going, or will wind up and they have only recently gotten to that level after a HUGE emotional crisis that’s rocked them (Gwen’s return).

 Basically this is a straight choice between telling one person they might be in danger (even though MJ probably knows that, Peter’s aunt was kidnapped because he happened to snap Spidey photos) or risking everyone DEFINITLY being in danger.

 In relationships there are degrees of intimacy and degrees of trust (usually built up over time). For example it’s a bad idea to propose marriage unless you are relatively certain about your future with your partner and their own response. Peter’s identity is a much larger and much more dangerous thing than a mere proposal. He shouldn’t tell anyone his secret unless he’s as confidant as possible that they would be able to handle it and keep it safe, even if things don’t work out between them. He’s not there with MJ at this point.

 Hell the one time he DOES reveal his secret to his girlfriend it totally backfires. Felicia didn’t like learning the truth and she was cavalier with it too. He was just lucky she cared enough about him/hated Foreigner enough that she didn’t spill the beans when she had her mad on for him. Had she done that his life would have been over and so would Aunt May’s

 Furthermore divulging the secret is a huge deal for the person hearing it. It’s essentially burdening them with a massive and dangerous responsibility they didn’t ask for and maybe didn’t want. See Miles Morales for proof of this

SPOILERS he does tell his girlfriend...and she totally betrays him...to HYDRA...

But I guess that was better than him being ‘sexist and patriarchal’. 

“Including occasionally leaving parties early without her. (Yes, I know it was retconned so that she knew all along, but it doesn’t justify the fact that Peter chose never to tell her, no matter how serious their relationship got, which includes a proposal. Or Gwen, who died without knowing who he was, for that matter.)”

 See above. Peter was honestly proposing to her the first time around more out of other factors in his life. That proposal was him being a naive moron, though he did love her. He was likely going to tell her if she said yes.

 With Gwen his not telling her was again a forgivable mistake of youth. He was dumb kid at the point he wanted to marry her and seriously believed he could hide it from her.

 However he was in a catch 22 situation. He knew she’d reject him if she knew the truth because of ASM #87, and he knew she hated his alter ego. But at the same time he was in love with her and was a kid. Would he have committed to the lie had she lived or would he have broken it off or else tried to tell her the truth?

 We’ll never really know although it’s pretty fucking obvious they were never going to last.

 His initial solution though in ASM #100 was to just get rid of his powers altogether. Again, stupid and naive but he was a kid.

 Was it immoral of him to have married her without divulging the truth? Yes.

 Was it immoral of him to have not told her during their relationship as it was? Not really.

 Again he was a kid in a catch 22 situation where he was serious about Gwen (the first person he was ever serious about) but knew she’d reject him. Really from ASm #87 or her Dad’s death onwards he was just treading water trying to figure out what to do.

 Also because of the bullshtit Clone Conspiracy storyline Gwen actually did die knowing Peter was Spider-Man. But if we want to take all retcons into account Gwen was straight up pregnant with the kids of Peter’s best friend’s Dad...and expected him to raise them. She lied about that throughout their relationship sooooooooo....

     “Also…please explain to me how magically disappearing from a balcony with no discernible exit in any way helps him hide his secret identity from anyone at that party. Especially since, if MJ and/or anyone else had walked out two seconds earlier, they would have seen him dangling off of that helicopter. How is that preferable to saying goodbye and leaving through the front door like a regular, unsuperpowered person and thus NOT arousing suspicion?”

  a)     It was raining, at night time and in the midst of a blackout so how WOULD they have seen him hanging from the helicopter?

b)     The Spider Sense probably would’ve helped him avoid prying eyes

c)     The chopper probably was moving fast.

d)     In the blackout he probably figured people would presume he just slipped out without them seeing which is what MJ obviously did.

e)     Nobody actually saw him on the balcony. Robbie just suggested MJ try there as he saw Peter heading towards it

f)      Drawing attention to the fact that you are leaving to take pictures at a party full of investigative journalists, one of which you suspect already has an idea of your identity, the other being the guy who’s literally created supervillains to try and kill you, and all when you obviously don’t have a camera (and therefore cannot deliver any photos), is a comparatively larger security risk than just leaving and letting people presume what they will whilst they’re distracted by other stuff going on

g)     The chopper provided him a great way to get up high and assess the situation whilst also going direct to the action as they might have more information that he does. He knows the blackouts are systematic so being able to see the pattern from a birds eye view means he has a better chance of figuring out where they will strike next and how to stop it and end the desperate situation. If he chose to exit through the party and make explanations he’d lose his window of opportunity to catch up the chopper, especially given the pitch darkness.

  “Nope. It was a terrible way of handling the situation any way you look at it, and, again, MJ is right to be angry at his clear lack of respect for her.”

 Nope, it was the viable option for handling the situation that was itself not ideal.

 Nope he didn’t disrespect her. Just did what was necessary.

 Yes though she has a right to be angry, I never said otherwise, my contention as with YOUR assessment of HIM.

 Is it not charming how half the Spider-Man fanbase seems to shit on Mary Jane because they don’t bother trying to empathize with her and see things from her POV, whilst the other half shit on Peter for the same reasons.

 “P.S. – I was laughing at Harry, who I generally like very much, affectionately for his nosiness. The way those panels CLEARLY want you to do. They are setting it up to be funny, which is pretty damn obvious???? Harry tends to just generally be pretty nosy? It’s endearing most of the time???”

 Harry was drugged up because he’d just come out of the hospital.

I’m not saying Peter doing what he did doesn’t suck for Mary Jane. 

I’m saying Peter did what he did for the greater good which unfortunately screwed MJ over in an entirely non-lasting way which was ultimately more of an inconvenience for her and did more damage emotionally. Which he later tried to make amends for.

Peter obviously does respect Mary Jane as his girlfriend, but this was like so many things in his life an emergency.

[ecotone99]

[SP] Pathetic

I've been staring at the TV for the past hour.

Not unusual... In usual times.

The TV's off. It's been off for the past five days, yet I still seem quite content to lounge and stare absent-mindedly at my distorted reflection on the black screen.

I'm glad I can't make anything distinct out... I reckon I'd look as bad as I feel. Ever since the announcement came things have changed.

It was a Sunday night and I was adhering to my tradition of drinking a box of wine and lamenting on how my life at the age of twenty-seven had devolved into a slow, meandering existence. You know, millennial bullshit.

As I was glugging down my fourth, but certainly not my last glass of vino, I was distracted when the TV almost fucking killed me. The speakers must have been blown out by the racket that thundered in. I must have looked a picture; those last drops of wine from the glass caught in my throat and I flapped around like a whale at sea-world desperate to be put out of its misery.

When I regained my composure and assured myself I'd never gain any respect, I stared at the TV which had finally shut up. Now a black screen was dominated by big bold letters -

STAY CALM - A MESSAGE FOR THE NATION INCOMING

What. The. Fuck.

Phone. Contacts. Mum.

Of course she didn't answer. I can picture it now; she's sat in bed, some true-crime documentary playing on the TV, and he'll be lying next to her. When her phone wakes up and my picture appears he'll stare at my mum and give her the it's late honey, we don't have the time to deal with her right now look. She'll return with the Thank god you said it, now I can at least pretend I was coerced into ignoring my only daughter, you're just the best Jimmy, I'm so glad I got married to you and threw that little shit out of our home so we can fuck with the doors open look.

That's it. That's my only point of contact. I felt pathetic at that point. As in, I truly understood what the feeling of pathetic was; there's a physical drop in your stomach and shivers run down your back...you become hot and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability hits you in the core. You could say that wasn't the best feeling to be overcome with as the TV emitted another assault to my eardrums.

The sound dissapated again and this time a voice replaced it almost immediately. It was the voice I had been expecting as soon as I saw the first message. Our great and glorious President.

My fellow Americans. It is with a heavy heart I speak to you tonight. Firstly I am very sorry for interrupting your Sunday evening, I'm sure many of you are quite afraid and concerned right now. I'd love to be able to tell you that there's no reason to worry, but I'm afraid I simply can't...

Phone. Recently Called. Mum

The United States today received information regarding an unprecedented and immovable obstacle to the continuation of not only our own existence, but that of every living thing on our planet...

Call was rejected again. I bet he slapped it out of her hand that time. No way would she ignore me, she must have been watching this as well?

There is an asteroid roughly twelve miles in diamater on a collision course with Earth. Projections are that it will strike us in seven days and the impact will result in the total annihilation of us and our home...

You go through the motions of acceptance incredibly quickly. It's not a drawn out process. I'll explain how mine happened -

Bullshit. He's the president of the United States of America addressing the entire nation. Okay, this is serious.

I know this is quite a shock. I presume many of you are wondering why I am being so open and frank about this. Well... I guess there's no more contingency plans or exit strategies to care about any more. It was important enough that I have decided, against the wishes of my advisors, to tell you the truth and allow you to go out in whichever way you feel is right and justified. I leave you with only one request - depart this world showcasing the best of humanity. Put our compassion, dignity and honour on a pedestal and let us move onto the next great adventure proud. Good luck to you all. Goodnight America

Then it was over. The screen flipped back to my original programming. I can't work out if Kim Kardashian was a vacuous waste of air and cells before or after I realised my world was over and nothing I ever did or dreamed about mattered anymore. Probably before, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt.

The sound of my phone ringing came at me like it was trapped down a well, far off in the distance. I picked it up and my heart did one of this slight jumps when you get excited.

Mum. I'm scared

It's not your mother, it's Jimmy.

oh...

Look I'm calling to tell you me and your mother have decided to take off. I can't explain and to be honest, I won't. I'm sure you've just heard the president.

Erm okay. Well... Where should I meet you?

Meet us? What are you talking about!

Meet you so we can all be together obviously!

I think you've misunderstood this whole situation. I'm not surprised, you never where very bright... Look. You're not coming with. I called to make sure you didn't come running down here and waste your time. Just stay away from us.

Go fuck yourself Jimmy, put my mum on now!

Your mother doesn't want to speak to you. This has been coming a long time if I'm honest. How could you not see it? The heartache and trauma you have caused that poor woman. You should have the deceny to respect her last wishes and stay away. Don't you dare cause your mother any more heartbreak

I'll hear that from her you teet suckling leach

Then it happened. From somewhere in the background I heard her voice.

Just go away Kate! Jimmy has spoken for the both of us

I like to think she was sat at the dresser table at the side of the bed. Cigarette in hand and her mascara running down her face. Shaking so bad she couldn't get a proper drag and staring vehemently at Jimmy, who had forced her to lose all sense of humanity and compassion.

But it's more likely that OJ is innocent and Twilight is actually a good film if you look at it's artistic merits.

No, she would have been sat at that dresser, ensuring the phone was on loudspeaker and mouthing instructions to Jimmy, getting more perplexed and angry every time I spoke.

But... Mum, please I'm scared

This is where she would have inhaled deep and arched back ready to deliver her knockout punch. Jimmy would have slunk away from the phone, knowing his work was done and he can stand in the shadows and watch the emancipation in peace.

You listen here and you listen good. The last we spoke I told you I'd reached the end of the road. There were no more chances. I cannot go through this anymore and now with all this shit going on... We deserve to have some peace at the end Kate. Please understand, it's not because we don't love you. It's because we can't fucking stand you.

Oh please, you talk as if I killed someone mum! Im sorry I didn't turn out perfect like you wanted-

The phone cut off. She actually cut me off from her reality with the click of button. It wasn't even a click...a lazy moment of the finger and that's it... I'm gone from their lives.

Like millions of others, I cried myself to sleep that night. First it was pity, then anger and then... Just to get it all out. Once sleep came and I woke the next day, I'd accepted it.

The World of course went insane. For the first couple of days we had the news and social media to keep us informed of everything. The riots. The crime. The depravity. So much for humanity. But then, all that stopped as well.

It only takes two days for the World to just stop. Once every single person suddenly just doesn't give a shit... Its all done. Electricity went - no more lights, no more warmth. Thankfully I'd spent wisely as an introvert. I had a deluxe weighted duvet with special microfibres that retain your body heat. God praises those who late-night drunk shop.

You could also live off my supply of ramen noodles and cherry bakewells for a considerable amount of time, so I wasn't concerned with starving. I didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Finally, my brain decides food is no good when getting healthy is the least important factor in my life.

I know other people are with their families. Well, people who aren't rioting or going around unleashing their inner monster, just because they can. I've got a picture in my head of how I think the perfect family are holding up right now.

There's a mum. A dad. A son and a daughter. Their all grouped together in the living room, sitting in front of a massive open hearth fire playing monopoly and drinking hot chocolate. There's a Christmas tree as well, just for the sake of ensuring this cliché rings as true as possible.

The dad rolls a double and fist bumps the air.

"Oh Ronald... You did it again you lucky man," the mum croons whilst stroking his fringe to the side. He beams. The daughter crosses her arms and huffs.

"Not fair!" she says and scowls. Her brother puts his arm around her and leans his head on the side of hers.

"Now, now Lucy... Don't worry, I won't let daddy hurt you,"

The mum suddenly becomes stiff and looks at her son.

"What do you mean by hurt, Blake?" she asks, her voice a bit shaky.

The son looks at his dad who, pale as a ghost now tries to roll again.

"Nothing honey, I'm sure nothing at all. Come on I passed GO!"

The mum looks now at her daughter who is looking at the ground, shooting nervous glances at her dad. Blake is messing with the corner of the board, avoiding eye contact.

"Ronnie... What's going on?" she says now standing up warily. Another round of glances and finally it dawns on her.

"No...no...NO!"

I can't even pretend to know what a perfect family is. My mind so broken and ill from a lifetime of... Life.

Not a single person from my past has phoned me. Well they didn't when the battery was still working. I'll lie to myself until the end - they've probably been ringing non-stop since it went dead.

I'm alone. So utterly alone. And it's the end of the world.

I'm going to die in a couple of days and the only feeling that comes to me now as I sit here staring back at my shadowy image on that black screen mirror is - pathetic.

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[abiteofnat]

Find Your F*%&ing City Happy Place

Because if you’ve lived in Chicago / any large city for longer than a month, you start to realize it’s hard to find room to breathe unless you really set out to find it. When I say “happy place,” I exclude the home and bed and all comfortable, cozy and familiar places immediately. As you grow your roots into a city, there’s nothing more important than being able to collect little spaces that are “yours,” so when you step outside your front door it all feels a little less overwhelming. Maybe it’s just because I get restless watching too much Netflix unless it’s rainy and cold outside, or maybe it’s because on a different day that same weather inspires me to pull on a furry jacket and set up with my computer in a cafe somewhere... but I love finding places that welcome me in and wrap me in peace of mind, even if they’re loud and busy and not all that *finger quotes* calming! Going to college in downtown Chicago I always hated the idea of the library and dorm study space because there were a million better places to sit for a while, and once I turned 21 I realized the incredible enjoyment one can get out of ordering a glass of wine in a restaurant to pass the time with. I’m not a hermit, I like when people are with me too, but for the most part... I like knowing there are seats I like to sit in whichever direction I find myself heading. 

In the spirit of a) not being a hermit and b) sharing some spots that I've been to recently and cannot get out of my head for the life of me, I've listed my two favorites below so you can go experience the weird intimacy of living in a big city too. It’s really freeing! And delicious! Armed with a glass of wine or cup of indulgent, chocolatey coffee you won’t care you’re alone- and if you’re with someone, I hope they make it all the more special. 

1. Duck Duck Goat

This place like really, REALLY nailed the ambiance and 8/10 nailed the food. I walked by it on my way to Aba a few weeks ago, smelled something incredible waft out of the open door as someone exited, felt a warm, red glow cover me as I passed the window that looked into a packed room, and immediately pulled out my phone to make reservations. Two nights later when Chicago skipped to winter, Eric and I walked into this West Loop gold mine owned by the same people who brought the city Girl and the Goat, and were greeted with an exceptionally pleasing amount of charisma stemming from the decor to the steaming plates of food. The first dining room is a bit more traditional, with light yellow wall paper and soft, wooden details. People have their coats slung over their chairs, digging into family-style plates of colorful foods. Then you enter my favorite area, the bar, which looks like a giant hut strung with Christmas lights was thrown through the roof and happened to land there. This is where we sat, right under the roof of the hut, the business of the bar to my right and the bright red room covered in silks and satins that initially beckoned me to my left. It was loud, busy, and crowded, but somehow each table felt very secluded and personal. “This place is SO COOL,” I kept saying to Eric, and while he agreed he was more focused on what we were going to eat. I ordered almost one of everything and we ate like FAT LIZARDS. From the scallion pancakes that were crispy on the outside and so decadent on the inside, to the crab rangoon made with real crab (hence the hefty price tag for an otherwise “cheap” appetizer), to the cold spicy noodles that stole the show for me, it was all sooooo well made. The fried rice was fine, nothing special, a little too many mushrooms for my liking. But honestly as something to stick a spoon into to break up the crunchier foods, it was great! 

Besides the food being a superb twist on typical Asian menu items, this place is somewhere I could see going on a very snowy day and hunkering down with some Sake and enough crab rangoon to last a bit, and I can also see going for a late lunch in the summer when the patio is open to just hang out. It’s really a special place, and deserves the hype it’s gotten. There’s something about a dim-lit table in a big, bright place, a bunch of food to stick chopsticks into, and a really lovely conversation with someone you love that just can’t be beat. God that night rocked.

2. Princi 

So this place really shocked me, I'm not going to lie. Like Duck Duck Goat, Princi had also gotten a lot of buzz in a short amount of time since it’s an overseas foodie staple. Known as the ritzier Starbucks (since they’re owned by Starbucks), my expectations for this bougie little bakery were low. After living in London, I grew all too aware of the places that look cute until you realize they were created cheap and quick, the coffee sucks, and the pastries aren’t actually that good (“But it’s European and so good!!” - everyone on Yelp; no). Princi gave me that vibe. Luckily, I AM A BELIEVER NOW.

I met a friend here to discuss the bizarre thing that is adult life and was really blown away when I walked in. The windows are gingerbread-house perfect, letting in the glow of the late-day sun and providing a peek at the skyline since it sits in the middle of the West Loop (a trend, hmmmm). The wooden seats line the exposed-brick wall that wraps around the centerpiece of the whole place: the bakery. There’s bread as far as the eye can see, an impressive row of Starbucks Reserve espresso machines (if they have actual hand-stamped espresso- yet to find out.), and lots of vino. In fact, by 6:30pm, everyone who wasn't us or 6 years old was enjoying a healthy glass of vino. That’s exactly how welcoming this place feels- you just want to settle into it and have a bite of everything. Traditionally at the Italian Princi’s, that’s how it works- you build up a plate of bits of whatever you want. In America, we have pastries and bread and you can buy them if you want the whole damn thing- so I did.

I ordered a brioche with cream, a brioche with chocolate, a raisin bun, and an olive breadstick made almost entirely of olives. As I told Eric, olive bread is my love language. I think it’s truly the most delicious thing in the entire world, especially with some brie smeared on top. MY LORD. 

The pastries were all superb, with the softest, sweetest brioche topped with a line of indulgent, heavy cream that seemed similar to a fancy frosting on top being the winner by far. As an adult, after complaining about being an adult for a long time, it’s fun to decide to eat pastries for dinner and not really give a fuck about if that’s “what you’re supposed to do.” Literally, fuck it, eat a plate of pastries if that’s what feels good. And it did! 

There was something about Princi that made me feel nostalgic for a lot of things, and also weirdly comforted. I think it felt like somewhere I would find happiness in during my time in London, and I think it also felt like somewhere I wish existed during grad school. I already dream of going there on a random day full of nothing to do, and just reading a book, or writing a blog post, or just enjoying a carefree moment. 

Brioche feels too carefree to be stressed around, you know? It doesn’t deserve to be burdened. 

That’s all I got for now, I'd love to hear where you find happiness in the city! It doesn’t have to be a restaurant... but it would be better than if it’s not :) 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie