#i feel embarrassed showing my handwriting i feel like it's not very appealing but that's not really the point here haha

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: a sheet of blank mailing stickers with pro-palestine slogans written on them.]

i put up the rest of my homemade stickers today and i wanted to make a quick post about how i made them because it's entirely possible some of you already have all the materials laying around at home or could buy them at the post office without having to find a place that will print stickers for you.

i used:

sharpies (any permanent marker obviously works here)

blank stick-on mailing labels

clear masking tape (for waterproofing)

i just wrote my messages on the mailing labels and tore off a piece of tape around the size of the label to cover it with. it doesn't have to align perfectly, you just want to make sure it covers all your writing so they don't smudge and it's not so oversized that it ends up taping the sticker to the sheet.

once you have your stickers finished you have them still on the sheet and you can peel them off and stick them wherever you want! this makes them a lot more portable and faster to apply than if you were to be putting up flyers, so if you're disabled like me it's a lot easier to cover more ground when putting them up. if you are someone who is out and about during the day, you could prepare a sheet and keep it in your bag and pull them out to stick them up different places while you go about your day!

[scoutsbabygirl]

I would like to see headcanons from you about how your favorite mercenaries realize that they fall in love with the reader :333

🎷🐛

my first request! hi my little meow meow! i wrote for all the mercs bc why not?! fluff below the cut! also written in headcannon form! idk how to write for soldier (i just don't see the appeal)

scout:

-why did ms. pauling have to be lesbian???

-when you came along he was immediately drawn to you, maybe it was because you were new and young

-he's way too cocky around you and acts like he doesn't care about you

-after a stern talking to by spy, jeremy decides to ask you out

-other than sports, jeremy loves to paint and draw and is surprisingly good at it. he asks you to make some art with him and of course he draws you

-this melts your heart and you've fallen for him. he's just waiting for the right time to confess and ask you to be his

soldier:

-man has zhanna

pyro:

-hearing you say "you're all good! no worries!" after he lights the hem of you shirt, almost burning you alive. he feels a spark...literally

-pyro slinks around you where ever you may be. in the kitchen baking? pyros throwing flour all over the kitchen. working out? pyros cheering you on. got some spare time? pyros got some crayons, colored pencils and a bunch of coloring books

-spending time with a masked man that the team fears has him drawn to you. the mercs warned you about him, you never felt intimated by pyro yet understood yet you could understand why he was treated differently

-if you're ever sad he will give you the best comfort. he's never shown himself to the mercs but once he sees you cry the mask is coming off and expect kisses to be planted over you

-its a very intimate moment and he just admits it then. he's never had anyone love him back, he's always been depicted as a monster.

heavy:

- won't approach you first. he waits for you to make a move. he knows his size is intimidating in itself and doesn't want to scare you away.

-he's a gentle giant. he's very careful with his words and movements. he's so paranoid that you'll view him as something he's not on the inside.

- one night you cooked with him and he told you all about his life back home, showed you photos of his sisters and taught you basic russian (assuming you don't know any already)

-if you speak russian he'll be over the moon or if you use the simple russian he's taught you he loves you just a little bit more. he adores your accent when you stumble over certain pronunciation. he knows you're the one for him

-when he decides to confess he handwrites you a long poem with an russian to english translation on two separate pages. after he signs his name he writes that he won't bring this up unless you do

-please don't break his heart. he's so sensitive

demo:

- when he confesses he's drunk as fuck. he doesn't even remember when you bring it up the next day.

-is so embarrassed. he's hungover and groggy. he plays it off by acting defensive. "i was just drunk! i meant nothing by it!"

-in the inside he's freaking out. he wanted to plan it out. it's only been 7 or 8 months since you've been at teufort but he fell so quick for you.

-3am outside pointing at the constellations, telling you about old celtic, scottish myths and folklore, shit talking the other mercs, and an accidental kiss on the lips he caught feeling for you right then and there.

- he's willing to give up scrumpy just to have you reciprocate the same feelings for him. 🤞

engineer:

-lord, he used so many pet names with you; "check this out, sweet pea", "you look beautiful, darling", "i made pancakes, you want any hon?"

-he knows his voice with a combination of his pet names do something to you. he loves when you call him those names back!

-compliment his cooking! bbq is his specialty! he'll gladly eat up anything you make. hungry boi :3

-he loves when you spend time with him in his workshop, working on his little metal trinkets warms his soul. he tries to teach you about the intricate parts of engineering. it's okay if you don't understand, he's more than willing to break it down for you and teach you a bite-sized version quantum mechanics

-friday night. a few beers in. a lot of work finished. "(y/n), i know i'm a bit older and dusty at the whole romance thing but" he pauses "you ain't seeing anyone right now, are you?"

medic:

-he either falls in love with you the second he lays his eyes on you or it takes many, many months for him to catch feelings for you. regardless, of how long the process takes his love for you becomes an obsession.

-you begin lingering around his office, inquiring about his tools and weapons. he finds it very interesting that you're not startled by him and his... unethical ways of "doctor assisted suicide"

-internal battles with his conscience. does he want to rip your organs out and shove them in the wrong places? he wants to slice your arteries one by one. yes, he wants to cut your jugular and see how much you bleed before dying. alas, he won't. you're too beautiful to be cut up into pieces. he doesn't want you to die by his hands, he doesn't know what he would do with himself.

-"guten morgen, wie gehts?!" has him weak. just a simple phrase you've rehearsed a few times. you though he would appreciate you taking time out of your day to learn his native tongue. he thinks this is your way of flirting with it (and perhaps it is).

-occasionally he'll call you into his office, not for a checkup by any means but rather just to chat (on company time). he removes the gloves and runs his hands over the scars on your face and neck. "schätzelein, i have been feeling some way for a while."

sniper:

-he is such a cunt. he's so rude and bitchy to you. his attitude causes you to avoid contact with mick at all costs and he avoids you like the plague. he spends a lot of time in his van anyways so staying away from you isn't too hard.

-seeing you hurt breaks his heart. he decides to visit you in medbay after your broke your arm. the baboo uterus experiment procedure wasn't finished by the time you got hurt. you notice how out of character it is but appreciate it regardless. he brings you a little necklace made with animal teeth (him making jewerly with animal bones is the most canon-noncanon headcanon.)

-after you get a cast you ask him to sign it. next to his name he writes a little heart. then scribbles it out. and draws a skull underneath it.

-butterflies in his stomach when he lays eyes on you. he hates that he's gotten feelings for you. you're his teammate, not his partner. not yet atleast. no? why is he thinking like this.

-it's obvious that mick is touch starved of attention, he want to be validated and appreciated. he's also getting shit from his teammates so when you begin to stand up for him and complimenting him he looses his mind.

"scout, you're being mean. no wonder you have no dad, i would leave too. " "he's not ugly at all. you're old and its evident enough in those wrinkles of yours."

-oh god. who knew a petite little thing like you could spit venom. he wants to tell you how he feels so badly but he doesn't want to loose you as a friend.

spy:

-he'll flirt with you before even developing feelings for you. always trying to court you, inviting you over at late hours. he just wants to get laid tbh.

-you're playing hard to get. it excites him a bit but he's much older now so if anything he's annoyed that you won't sleep with him. he tries being more romantic and pushes idea the idea of getting with you sexually and takes a different approach.

-smoking on his red velvet couch until the sun begins to rise, sharing cigs together. he has a small stash of weed (he stole it from scout) but coughs when he smokes it, earning a plethora of giggles from you. now he's smiling and laughing with you despite his lungs being filled with smoke.

-stacks of guy de maupassant on his table near the red couch, he reads the love poems to you and translates it to you. please snuggle up into his chest and try to read the french words yourself. your pronunciation is horrible and your accent is awful. you sound so cute yet so pathetic at the same time.

-he tries to keep his feelings hidden for as long as he can. of course, it slips out. he's stopped wearing the balaclava when around you (and only you, even his own son doesn't know what he truly looks like) so the bright red blush is evident on his face. he tries taking back what he said but there's no use as your already face first into his chest.

[plasticnightmaredoll]

Oh my lord...I am so sorry that the NSFW Alphabet for Enigma/Origins Riddler is taking forever but work has been beating my ass. 5 days of 11 hour shifts per week is fucking brutal, and I have barely had time for anything save for sleeping, eating (barely even doing that), and showering. 

Once Christmas hits, though, I’ll go back to 4 days of 10 hour shifts per week, which will be much more manageable and I’ll actually be able to get shit done FFS. Like, really, I’m not happy but I can’t do anything about it right now so I’m just.........enduring.

To tide you all over, I am going to present what I have completed for the NSFW Alphabet for Enigma/Edward Nashton, our favorite sassy, sexy IT guy who loves to troll us like the little shit he is. I have letters A through N and X done, so that’s quite a lot.

I won’t lie, though...I’m not sure how happy I am with this one. I think I did better with the ones for Arkham Knight Riddler and Telltale Riddler, and I have so many mixed feelings about my work for Enigma....I don’t know. I feel like maybe I dropped the ball here? 😞 So I apologize if it’s not too great. 

Feedback is definitely welcome because if I can make this better, than I would LOVE to make it better 😫😫😫😫

Anyway, NSFT content below the cut.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Eddie is very doting even in his GCPD/sane/far-less-depressed days. His insecurities still play a part like for his Arkham Knight self, but it’s much less intense. He wants to be the best boyfriend you could ever have so you don’t dump him for being “inferior,” but he’s not as internally stressed out about it. It’s more like he is a bit nervous at first as he gets used to things, being intimate and what you like after. However, once he gets comfortable, he’s pretty calm and confident for the most part.

As for aftercare for him, again, some similarities to his Arkham Knight self but it’s not as extreme. He does like to cuddle after but it’s less because he’s clingy and desperate for affection and more because he is truly happy to have you in his life. Otherwise, he doesn’t ask for too much. Maybe a snack or a drink now and again.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Again, like with any Riddler, Enigma/Nashton definitely thinks his mind is the best part of himself. As Enigma, yes, he still wants to show off his incredible intellect to you as a means of charming you, but he doesn’t go overboard like his Arkham Knight self. Enigma is a smug little shit but his narcissism is more in check, and he doesn’t get over-the-top with his words like his Arkham Knight self. 

As for an actual body part, again, it would be his hands since he is great at building things, is a fast typer (obviously helps with programming/hacking), plays chess like a pro (really, he’s good), and is capable of some very impressive handwriting.

For you, I think it would be your hands. Arkhamverse Eddie is very touch-starved, and while as Enigma, it’s not quite as bad, he still does want some sort of physical affection. To him, your hands are lovely, and your touch is soothing, grounding him to reality sometimes. The fact you actually want to use your hands to pleasure him and not punch, slap or choke him is truly a relief. Deep down, he is lonely and never expected to find any sort of connection with anyone, growing used to being ignored, insulted, and bullied by others. So receiving a loving touch gives him some comfort as he has someone who not only appreciates him but loves him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Enigma is much more of a neat freak than his Arkham Knight self, but he’s not going to complain of making a mess of you. He loves to cum on your face, in your mouth, and inside you because it’s not only a way for him to “claim” you as his, it’s also a sign of how comfortable you are being so vulnerable with him.

This version of Eddie, though, is very much into fucking your mouth and cumming down your throat. He loves to have your eyes on him as you suck him off, and he loves to hear you swallow his cum. Again, it fuels his ego to see you willingly submit to him like this, and it gives him the thrill of being in control.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You know that Eddie would absolutely love to have you blow him under his desk while working at the GCPD. Granted, he’s not terribly fond of the being caught but it’s such a thrilling idea that he can’t deny its appeal. Nearly everyone at work thinks he’s some sort of sex-starved bore, so imagine how they’d feel knowing that yes, he can have fun, too, and no, it doesn’t involve cheating on his s/o with strippers at the local night clubs. (You know some of them cops be cheating on their wives, let’s be real, and Eddie thinks it’s gross).

Plus, having you keep him company at work would make his days at the GCPD dealing with corrupt cops and an absolute idiot of a commissioner (this is before Gordon is in charge, remember) more tolerable. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a lot of experience. He’s had very few partners in his life, and while he may boast he’s got moves, he’s really just too nervous to admit otherwise. It kind of shows, though, with how shy he is when the two of you first become intimate, but just be patient and kind to him. He’s got a great memory and takes direction very well, and he does actually want you to enjoy going to bed with him so he’s going to work hard to keep you satisfied. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Eddie enjoys being on top because he loves watching you come undone beneath him and he enjoys holding your wrists down (when you two are in the mood for it). 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Not goofy or silly. I mean, yes, he’s a damn tease and sarcastic af, but not childish. Ok, well, maybe sometimes he’s a bit of a man-child but, at this point in his life, it’s much more subdued. He’s far more playful than anything, and thinks being silly has no place in the bedroom -- or anywhere really. Not that he can’t ever laugh at himself. It just takes some effort since he’s not comfortable making mistakes.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Completely the opposite of his Arkham Knight self, Enigma is very well-groomed. Not excessively so, but he actually showers everyday, keeps his hair neatly trimmed, and shaves regularly. Before meeting you, he’s not terribly fussed about being tidy “downstairs” but once you two become serious about your relationship, he definitely makes an effort to keep that part of him as presentable as possible. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

At first, Eddie is extremely nervous as he’s not used to being vulnerable with anyone, but he’ll ramble on like he is experienced and comfortable. You see right through it, though, but don’t call him out on it in a mocking way; you’ll turn him off of you faster than you can say, “enigma.” Just be understanding and patient with him, guide him along without being condescending, and he’ll eventually relax enough to enjoy being intimate with you.

At this point in his life, Eddie can become comfortable letting his guard down more quickly with the right person as he hasn’t gone down that dark, depressing path of being repeatedly defeated by Batman and losing his sanity. When you have Eddie’s affection, he’s very romantic, often spoiling you with gifts and sweet compliments. He’s also secretly a cuddler, and likes to hold you for a while even if he knows he has somewhere else to be. It’s rare -- if at all -- that anyone likes him and even rarer that he likes anyone, so he’s going to be very affectionate with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s a little embarrassed to admit it but he does resort to jerking off since it’s not like he has dates lined up outside his door, you know? He’s also more in touch with his “urges” even if he feels a little ashamed about them, and he has pleasured himself on more than one occasion before meeting you. He’s young and rather energetic in his GCPD days since he hasn’t wasted a bunch of time and energy on Batman, so he’s more likely to get, well, horny.

When he gets to liking you, he jerks off more often than he would care to admit, and it takes time for him to confess this to you. He just couldn’t help himself usually because he found you to be so stunning and pleasant to be around, and you treated him better than anyone else ever had so he kind of let his emotions run crazy in his alone time.

When you confess to him that you also were pleasuring yourself while fantasizing about him on multiple occasions, he’ll feel more at ease with what he did but also kind of...flattered. He hasn’t heard anyone admit to “getting off” because of him, and since he is attracted to you, it’s, well..it’s pretty damn awesome to hear you tell him this.

Eddie also may enjoy mutual masturbation with you. I mean, he’s curious as to what exactly you did to please yourself when you were alone thinking about him. How long did it take for you to orgasm each time? Did you like edging yourself? Did you use any toys? What did you imagine him saying, doing? He has a lot of questions because he has a curious mind, you know...and he’s, well, horny for you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Like his Arkham Knight counterpart, he loves it if you address him “formally” while doing the do: Mr. Nashton, Mr. Nashton Sir, or even just Sir. His ego hasn’t taken a bashing like his AK self, though, so he doesn’t need this kink as a means of feeling better about himself, but rather, he loves the power play. Edward likes to be in charge, even in the bedroom, but he likes to have fun, too -- wants you to have fun. So the formal names are more or less major kinks for him than anything.

He loves it when you send him sexy pics or texts while he’s at work because it’s like a challenge for him. Can he keep his cool while you’re teasing him like this? Or will he cave and have to “take care of himself?” Either way, he will use it later to “punish you” for being so unfair. 

This Eddie, since his self-esteem isn’t in the dumps, is much more comfortable with you dominating him from time to time. He’ll even admit it, although, in his own way (he has some trouble admitting he gets off on being dominated). If you tie him down and tease him, ride him, but don’t let him cum until you feel he’s “earned it,” he’ll be in heaven. He lives to be a “good boy” for you.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Not fussed about where you guys do it, although, anything in public is kind of off limits as he’s too shy to risk getting caught. But any type of furniture or any wall or the shower...Eddie is very keen to try new spots. It’s, per usual, a challenge for him to see how you two handle it, and he likes variety.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Calling him, “Mr. Nashton,” or even just “Sir.” Complimenting him on his intelligence, his looks -- but most certainly his intelligence. Being touchy-feely with him. Touching his thigh. Kissing him by surprise. Flat-out telling him you need him. Wearing something green that’s also very sexy and looks amazing on you. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won’t do anything that could actually hurt you. Some consensual rough play is fine, but he won’t do anything that is downright painful. He also won’t try anything new without your permission.

He’s not into derogatory language, so he’s not going to call you “bitch” or “whore.” He thinks it’s vulgar and doesn’t see the appeal in calling his lover such things.

Now, this Eddie is actually ok with some humiliation kink since, again, he hasn’t taken a severe beating to his self-esteem. If you’re into it, he’ll indulge you, and, once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll let you do it to him. He kind of gets off on it -- but DON’T go overboard. Keep it light and fun, more like teasing. If you push it too far, he’ll get upset and will need to be alone, and you’ll also have to rebuild your trust with him.

He’s not into being called, “Daddy.” He thinks it’s weird, gross, and downright humiliating. Plus, it reminds him of his dad and he hates his dad.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s a bit above average, like 7-7.5 inches but unlike his Arkham Knight self, he’s a bit more comfortable with it, not as concerned with being “not big enough” for you.

[gamz2311]

Educated: A Clyde LoganxReader Story (1/5)

This is my first time posting on Tumblr something that i’ve written- Ah! Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading. 

No warnings 

Chapter 1

“I am going to go down to that damn school and…” Jimmy Logan yelled before his brother Clyde interrupted him with his slow, southern drawl. 

“Now Jimmy, we both know that ain’t gunna be good for Sadie. Ya’  just need ta calm down.” Clyde said, placing a hand on his older brothers shoulder to calm him down. 

“Like hell imma calm down. My little girl has a broken arm because of that school! That teacher shoulda been watchin’ them kids better. What kind of…” Jimmy muttered, shrugging off Clyde’s hand. Clyde was glad that it was only Jimmy, Nancy (his head waitress) and himself in the bar at the moment, relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain Jimmy’s outburst to any customers. Jimmy, Clyde, and Nancy had come in early to do some maintenance around the place. Right as they were getting ready to get started, Jimmy had just received a call from his ex-wife Bobbie Jo saying that their daughter, Sadie, had broken her arm at school playing on the playground. 

“It ain’t no ones fault. Kids are gunna be kids and accidents happen’.” Clyde said, trying to appeal to his brother’s logical side, but he already knew that it was too late for that. He sat down the glass he was cleaning and looked at his brother. 

“Fuck that. My baby is sitting in a hospital because of someone in that school and I’m gunna let ‘em have a piece of my mind. Plus Bobbie Jo said I needed to run by the school and get Sadie’s backpack and stuff that got left behind.” Jimmy stood up with a jerk, moving towards the door. Clyde smoothly made his way around the bar, stopping Jimmy in his tracks. 

“Right now Sadie needs ya’ at the hospital, she don’t need ya’ goin’ up to her school and causin’ a fuss. Plus ya don’t even know what happened so you don’t even know who to be mad at. Iffin’ it will make ya feel better, I’ll go on down to the school, get ‘er stuff and ask what happened while ya go on down to the hospital” Clyde said, seeing his brother calm for a second, processing his words. Looking over at Nancy, he saw her nod her head. She would often cover for Clyde when he need to run out. 

“I know its someone’s fucking fault at the school so you better make sure you let them know how angry I am” Jimmy said through gritted teeth. 

“Give Sadie a hug for me, let ‘er know I’ll teach ‘er the ways of managin’ with one arm.” Clyde smirked, hoping to make his brother chuckle but Jimmy was already almost to his car, muttering angry thoughts under his breath. Clyde sighed and followed, making his way to his truck. 

Luckily the drive to the school wasn’t too bad, only about an hour or so. Jimmy had been real pleased when Moody and Bobby Jo had moved back after living in Lynchburg for a few months. It made it a lot easier for Jimmy to see Sadie, which meant Clyde got to have a better relationship with his niece. He had been to her school a few times in the months she had been back in the area; a school play and her end of year awards ceremony but he hadn’t been there this school year yet. 

About halfway to the school he realized he had no clue who her teacher was this year. He tried to think back to the last time he had seen Sadie and was talking to her about the beginning of the school year. 

“Hey hey Sadie Lou.” Clyde remembered saying as Sadie ran into his trailer and threw her arms around her uncle a few weeks earlier. 

“Hi Uncle Clyde,” she said, sitting on his lap. “Guess what?” 

“What?” Clyde replied, not that it mattered to Sadie, who had kept chattering over his response. 

“I baked you some of my ultra famous toasted s'mores cookies.” Sadie said with a huge smile.

“Well thank ya’.” Clyde said, giving his niece a squeeze. “Them are my favorite.” 

“I know! They are also my teacher’s favorite, Ms. (Y/L/N). I made them for her because I want her to like me. She is the prettiest, nicest teacher in the whole school and I want to be her favorite.”  Clyde chuckled, his niece always had been a people pleaser thats why she always did so well at those pageants she liked doing. 

“I ain’t believing for one second that that you needed cookies to be ‘er favorite.” Clyde said, tickling Sadie. “Yer sweet ‘nuff on yer own.” 

“Uncle Clyde…” She said as she giggled and squirmed in his lap. “Stoppppp.” Clyde chuckled as he tickled her a bit more, her daddy coming to help him as they both made her laugh. He hadn’t thought much about that conversation until now as he was heading to go meet this Ms. (Y/L/N). Feeling the heat rush to his face, Clyde started to get a little nervous. 

There were many things that Clyde Logan was good at. He was good at being a brother and an uncle, he was good at running a bar and making drinks, and he was excellent at making a mean plate of nachos, just to name a few. However, there was one thing that he was not good at, and that was talking to pretty women. For as long as he could remember Clyde had always been the shy brother. Mellie and Jimmy could talk to just about anyone, but he couldn’t seem to to steady himself when he was around someone who he found attractive. Sure, behind his bar counter, he could talk to the customers who came to order drinks, but when it came to being on his own he couldn’t seem to get his thoughts organized. 

Clyde sure was hoping that this teacher wasn’t as pretty as Sadie made her out to be, because if she was Clyde was in for an awkward afternoon. 

Clyde showed up to the school just as the students were being let out. He parked in the front parking lot, waiting a few minutes for all the students, buses, and cars to clear out. Seeing the place finally look a bit calm, he made his way out of the truck and went to the door. He was let into the office where he explained he needed to pick up Sadie’s stuff and talk to her teacher. The office checked Sadie’s file and saw that he was identified as her uncle.  This meant that they were able to give him information about Sadie’s class and they pointed him in the direction of Ms. (Y/L/N)’s classroom, room 152. 

He walked slowly down the hall, trying to calm himself down before he met Sadie’s teacher. Picturing his 3rd grade teacher, the terrifying and strict Mrs. Appleton, he tried to convince himself that he was going to see someone who looked like her instead. 

However, when he made his way into room 152, he knew he was definitely wrong. He peered around the door frame and saw an absolute angel sitting at the teacher’s desk. Her eyes were focused on the paper in front of her, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as she examined the words in front of her. She had brown hair that was hanging in her face, that she was absentmindedly twisting between her fingers. He felt almost breathless, watching her so focused, so intensely studying the piece of paper. It made him want to study her that way, watching how her eyes danced across the page and how her face reacted to the things she was reading. 

Suddenly she looked up from the paper. Obviously she wasn’t expecting 6' 3” Clyde Logan to be standing at her door, so when her eyes met his she jumped with a surprised “Oh” slipping from her lips. 

“Uh, sorry to uh, scare you ma'am.” Clyde said, taking a step into the classroom. 

“No! I’m sorry. I was a bit too focused. I was trying to read a story one of my students wrote and unfortunately, I can’t read a single word of their handwriting.” Ms. (Y/L/N) said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“No worries ma’am.” Clyde said, his cheeks flushing red as she flashed him a smile. 

“Hi. I’m Ms. (Y/L/N), or (Y/F/N). What can I help you with?” She said, standing up and walking over to Clyde, extending a hand. Clyde stuck his hand out, his prosthetic arm hidden slightly behind him. Her hand was soft, much softer than his hands. They also felt much smaller than his own. She smiled at him again and he felt his stomach fill with nerves. 

“Uh. I am Clyde.” He said, pulling his hand away from hers before she could feel how clammy it was beginning to get. They stood there in an awkward silence before he realized that he probably needed to explain a bit more. “I mean, I’m Clyde Logan, Sadie’s uncle. I uh, came to get ‘er stuff.” 

“Oh gosh, yes! Poor Sadie. The kids were playing at recess and she fell off the jungle gym. I haven’t been working here long, but I’ve told the principal that they need to get rid of that thing. It’s old and too high.” The teacher said as she walked over to some shelves in the room and grabbed Sadie’s backpack. She continued to talk about the incident, giving Clyde all the details of what happened but Clyde was distracted. He followed her with his eyes as she walked around collecting Sadie’s things and writing her a note. Clyde felt like he couldn’t breath, the way that her hair danced across her shoulders and the way her mouth moved as she talked making him feel like he couldn’t think clearly. Suddenly he realized that the room was quiet and that Ms. (Y/L/N) was looking at him expectantly. 

“Huh?” He said, clearing his throat. His cheeks flushing with embarrassment again. 

“I asked if I could send some cards the kids made her. I was hoping you could give them to her when you drop off the backpack. I also wrote her a little card myself.” She said with a smile, walking towards Clyde with the backpack and a stack of white papers. 

“Uh, yeah…” Clyde mumbled. “I can do that.” He fumbled for a moment, trying to grab the backpack and the cards. Eventually he had to put the straps over his prosthetic arm, and grab the cards with the hand. He felt his face turning a bright shade of red, and he tried to make a quick exit towards the door. 

“It was very nice to finally meet you Mr. Logan. Sadie talks about her brave uncle frequently.” Ms. (Y/L/N) said. Clyde stopped, turning to look at her. 

“Oh really?” Clyde said, a shy smile spreading across his face. 

“She likes to write stories about you. It’s pretty cute.” Ms. (Y/L/N) said, leaning against her desk and looking at Clyde. “She makes you a superhero, saving the day. She is usually your sidekick. You’ll have to ask her to read them one day.” 

“I’d like that.” Clyde said, looking at her until he felt so overwhelmed he had to look at the ground. 

“Well thank you for coming to get the stuff. And also thank you for your service.” She said, quietly, before flashing Clyde a smile that made his stomach flipflop. 

“Uh. Thank you. I mean, uh, yur welcome.” Clyde said, making his exit. His cheeks felt like they were on fire as he made his way down the hall and out of the school. Of course he would embarrass himself in front of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen that just happened to be his niece's teacher. There is no way now she’d be interested in a guy like him because he must have seemed like an idiot to this beautiful, educated woman. Clyde opened his truck door, slinging the backpack into the passenger seat and placing the cards on top. He leaned his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes and trying to forget the last 10 embarrassing moments of his life. 

He also felt confused because he could decide whether or not he wanted to see Ms. (Y/L/N) again. He had never had a “crush” come on so quickly like that and it made him feel like he was 15 years old again. Like he was young and not in control of his body. Feeling ridiculous and hoping that driving would clear his thought, he started his truck and texted Jimmy to let him know that he had Sadie’s stuff and was making his way back to the bar. He kind of hoped he could forget this afternoon ever happened, but he had a strong feeling that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

[puffwriter1998]

The Things We Let Go Ch. 5

Summary: Addison makes her way to King’s Cross and back to Hogwarts for her fifth year.

Character Pairings: Fred Weasley X OC

Word Count: 4.6k

The next couple of weeks staying at The Leaky Cauldron were filled with lots of tension and whispers between the adults. Immediately following the events at the World Cup, the Abbotts had offered to deliver me back home to my parents until the end of the holiday. I’d insisted that this was completely unnecessary, saying that I truly didn’t want to worry my parents over a band of drunken men who’d wanted to stir up trouble. 

 Truthfully, I was terrified of bringing the prejudices and problems of the wizarding world, home into their non-magical lives. If for some crazy reason, the Death Eaters wanted to come after me for what I’d seen that night, or even just because of my blood status, I didn’t intend for them to find me at home. I had half convinced myself that I would be able to avoid going home for the rest of my magical education, but I hadn’t been able to work out a good enough reason to be gone the entirety of the summer holidays every year. 

 Between afternoons of shopping for my school books and supplies in Flourish and Blott’s and enjoying ice cream sundaes with Charlie and Hanna at Florean Fortescue's I’d received several letters from Ginny; each delivered by the Weasley’s slightly decrepit owl, Errol. Each of them demanded to know exactly what had gone on that night in the woods between Fred and I. I hadn’t responded to any of them yet, simply because there wasn’t anything to say. We really had just sat together like a couple of scared puppies in the darkness. But I knew I’d have to fill Ginny in on the way to school. 

 The day before we were due back on the Hogwarts Express, we had just returned from purchasing sets of dress robes from Madam Malkin’s and were packing our trunks when a small screech owl began pecking at mine and Charlie’s bedroom window. The owl interrupted the first thought I’d had about how curious it was that we’d need formal robes for our year at Hogwarts. I quickly crossed the scantly decorated bedroom and opened the window to let the petite, proud-looking bird in. In the slight breeze that wafted in through the opening, I noticed the smell of coming rain. I groaned internally at the thought of trekking to the carriages tomorrow in the rain.

 The little brown owl stood regally on the windowsill and held out his leg to me. On it was a rolled up slip of paper with my name scrawled on the outside. 

 “I wonder who this is from?” I scowled as I untied the twine binding the roll of parchment to the bird. 

 “I bet I can guess,” giggled Charlie, who had given up on her packing momentarily and was spread across her bed. 

 I unrolled the paper and squinted at the messy handwriting on the page. Immediately, the name scratched into the bottom made my heart jump into my throat. 

 Morris, 

Hope you’re holding up okay after The Cup. I reckon you might be a bit of a cry baby, but you can cry on my shoulder any time. See you at King’s Cross. 

-Fred 

 I turned to face Charlie and beamed. I couldn’t believe Fred Weasley had taken the time to check up on me. My stomach twisted up into the same butterflies that I’d experienced before the World Cup. 

 “Well go on,” Charlie laughed, “What’s it say?” 

 I crossed the tiny bedroom and flopped down on the bed next to her. Even though we’d been staying here for a while, dust motes floated up from it through the dim sunlight filtering in through the discolored window. I held the paper out to her, “I think it says that he wants to meet me at King’s Cross tomorrow.”

 “You think?” she frowned and nearly ripped the parchment from my hands. She read it over a couple of times silently and pursed her lips. “You did not cry in front of Fred Weasley.” 

 We both bust into a fit of giggles as I grabbed one of the ancient green throw pillows and beamed it at her head. “Shut it! We thought we were going to die!” I managed. “Besides, do you think that’s what he meant? He wants to meet before we get on the train tomorrow?” 

 “It certainly sounds like it. Ooooh d’you think he likes you?” she asked, handing the note back to me. 

 “I doubt it,” I sighed, settling down further into the musty smell of the pillows, “honestly, he probably just feels bad that I was such a git about the whole mess at the Cup.” 

 Charlie propped herself up on her elbows and bored her emerald eyes into mine, “I know you think you’re disgusting or something after that whole mess with Cedric, but honestly Addie, that was ages ago. You just need to get over it,” she said pointedly. 

 I was slightly taken back by the bluntness of her statement, but I knew there was probably some truth to it. I opened my mouth to object, but before I could say anything she started again. 

 “And you’re kind of gorgeous you know,” she laughed. ��Fred would be lucky to have someone like you. If I liked girls, I’d date you.” 

 “Not so fast there,” I chuckled. “Who say’s I’d date you?” 

 She clutched her heart and flipped over backwards like she’d been wounded. I laid my head down and stared up at the grey ceiling. Letting my eyes trail up and down the grain in the wood, I pondered what this note from Fred could mean. Part of me wanted to hope that Charlie was right, that he’d be lucky to have someone like me. I tried very quickly to shut that part up though; the thought of opening myself up to the humiliation and rejection that I’d felt before was a petrifying one. The number of students at Hogwarts was so small, almost everyone at least knew everyone else’s face, if not their name, blood status, and life history. Word got around quickly at school, and I’d surely never get a boyfriend if everyone thought I was desperate. 

 I let out another large sigh. Charlie ignored it and jumped off the bed and resumed putting her things away into her trunk. 

 “What’re you going to wear?” she asked. 

 “I was just thinking a pullover, it looks like rain. Why?” 

 “No, no,” she shook her head. “You’re hopeless Addie. Fred wants to see you! You can’t just wear your ratty pullover with the hood!” 

 “Hey how did you-” I started. 

 “You’ll thank me later,” she called over her shoulder as she dug through her trunk. After a moment she tossed an armful of light blue wool at me. “That’s my favorite jumper, and I want it back, but it’ll look lovely with your eyes.” 

 I held up the soft blue sweater and looked it over. It was the same color as the sky on a clear summer day; the exact color of the eyes my mother had passed on to me. 

 “You think a sweater will make Fred Weasley fall in love with me?” I rolled my eyes, but trying to hide the excitement on my face. The jumper would be a lot nicer than anything I’d planned to wear. We change into our school robes on the train, so I never put too much effort into my appearance on the morning of September first. 

 “I think you can make Fred Weasley fall in love with you dressed in a tea towel like a House Elf; the sweater is just a plus.” 

 I mused over the idea of pursuing Fred for the next several hours while we packed our things and had dinner with Charlie’s family. It was hard to imagine, I just kept seeing scenes of Fred making fun of me and me being too embarrassed and flustered to ever be somewhat appealing to him. Fred probably liked the funny girls, and funny I was not. I could appreciate a good joke as much as the next girl, but mine always landed poorly and were awkwardly timed. I just couldn’t make people laugh. 

 Several times, I almost talked myself into avoiding Fred the next day completely, and pretending like the World Cup never happened. But something kept telling me that there would be no forgetting that night. Not anytime soon anyway, so I might as well embrace it. 

 The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott accompanied the three of us, still rubbing the sleep out of our eyes, to Kings Cross Station. The rain was coming down in sheets, soaking us to the bone in the few moments it took us to run from the Abbott house into the Muggle Taxi they’d called. Wind howled past the car windows as we drove bending trees nearly in half on the side of the road. Charlie and Hannah looked around with wonder, and told me that they only ever got to ride in a car when they were due back at Hogwarts. 

 I was reminded again of the stark difference in our upbringing. Riding in a car was how I got everywhere before I’d found out I was a witch, and was still how I got around with my family over the summer holidays. It was humorous how such a mundane activity was lighting their eyes up with excitement. 

 Lightning cracked overhead, causing us all to start, as we stood in the downpour and retrieved our trunks from the car. The jumper Charlie had lent me was clinging to my body awkwardly and had taken on the smell of a wet dog. My hair hung in long wet strands down my face and every time I wiped the water away from my face, it was immediately soaked again. So much for looking nice. 

 When we made our way inside, Mrs. Abbott pulled the three of us into a washroom and pulled out her wand. “No one wants to show up on the first day of the term soaking wet,” she said with a wink. 

 She quickly looked over her shoulder and pointed her wand at us. She murmured something under her breath, and suddenly all of the water from our soggy clothes was rising up towards the ceiling as steam. A smile slowly spread across my face as I remembered why I loved this world so much. There is no such thing as an inconvenience when you have magic in your pocket. 

 Now dry and comfortable, our group made our way towards the wall directly between platforms nine and ten. Given that this was my fifth year returning, some of the wonder that had come from running at the red brick at full speed and sliding right through, had worn off. Not all of it though. It was always slightly exhilarating to check to see if no one was watching, and then take off, only to appear safely on platform nine and three quarters, where the gleaming scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express sat on the tracks. 

 Hannah walked onto the platform following me, but took off towards a group of younger Hufflepuffs immediately, without as much as a “see you!” over her shoulder. I guessed that we’d never really be great friends. Charlie and Mrs. Abbott came through next, followed by Mr. Abbott, who today had chosen a grey jumper to compliment his mustache. 

 Now that we were in the presence of the train, the butterflies in my stomach returned. I hadn’t yet spotted the sea of red hair that would be the Weasley family, but I knew they’d be here any minute, it was nearly eleven. I was nervously adjusting my sweater time and time again the entire time that the Abbotts hugged us goodbye. I couldn’t even remember if I gave them a proper goodbye. 

 “Cool it Addie,” Charlie whispered out of the corner of her mouth as we crossed the platform towards the train. “It’s Fred, not the bloody Prime Minister.” 

 I nodded and tried to still my hands. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, I’d spent the entire night at the Cup pressed up against his chest. Surely I could say hello to him without feinting. 

 “Addison!” I heard my name called from the crowd behind me, and whipped my head around. A petite frame with a head of long carrot-colored hair was bounding towards me, agilely dodging students and trunks. 

 “Hey, Ginny,” I laughed as she reached us. 

 “You,” she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. “You didn’t respond to a single one of my letters.” She poked a finger at my chest. 

 “Hello to you too Ginny,” Charlie muttered from my side. We both ignored her.

 “Look, there wasn’t much to say,” I batted her finger away and laughed. “Besides, I figured it would give us something to talk about on the ride up today.” 

 The scowl that had settled into her brow softened. “Fine, but I want every single detail,” then she turned to Charlie. “Forgive me, had to get that bit off my chest. Did you both enjoy the end of your holiday?” 

 “It was alright, Mum just about wouldn’t let us out of her sight after what happened at the Cup,” Charlie sighed, “I’m just ready to get back to Hogwarts so I can have some freedom again.” 

 Suddenly, we were interrupted by the approach of another red head. This one taller, with soft brown eyes and the sweetest of grins set on his lips. There was an identical copy of him at his side. 

 “Hope you lot are ready for a bit of fun this year,” said George, the look of mischief clear in his eyes. 

 “Yeah, we’ve got a few things up our sleeve. Should be an interesting term,” Fred said, shooting me a wink over Ginny’s head. My stomach launched into backflips and my face burned red. 

 Ginny rolled her eyes, “You both would be wise to stay away from these two. They’re taking the pranking to a bit of an extreme these days.” 

 “You can’t tell me you don’t admire our entrepreneurship, little sister?” asked George, a fake pained expression on his face. 

 “Come off it,” Ginny grumbled, “You can do whatever you’d like, but keep it away from my friends.” 

 “Alright, alright,” conceded Fred, “But can I steal your friend Morris for a minute?” 

 Ginny glared at him. 

“I promise not to offer her anything to eat,” he chuckled. 

 “Fine,” she said finally. “C’mon Charlie, let’s go find a seat before all the good compartments are filled.” 

 They turned to board the train, followed by George who was grinning at Fred over his shoulder every few moments. As soon as they were gone, Fred’s goofy demeanor slipped away a little bit. 

 I had suddenly become very aware that my back was nearly up against the gleaming metal of the train and Fred was barely a foot in front of me. The bustling platform was starting to feel much more intimate. I slid my hands into the pockets of my jeans and tried to look up at him casually. 

 “Thanks for the owl,” I said too nonchalantly, “I know I seemed pretty shaken up that night, but I’m fine. Honestly.” 

 “Well, yeah, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a bit of red creeping up into his freckled cheeks. “I didn’t think you were a mess or anything I just wanted to er- let you know I was thinking about you.” 

 “Oh, er- that’s really kind of you,” I stammered, trying to calm my racing heart enough to form a coherent thought. “I really appreciate you looking out for me. I don’t know if I got to properly thank you.” 

 “Don’t mention it,” he grinned again. “Besides, I didn’t mind spending the evening pressed up against a tree with you.” 

 I could feel the heat rising into my face and I knew my blush gave me away this time. I couldn’t believe Fred Weasley was actually flirting with me, but as long as it was happening, I was going to roll with it. 

 “Well I’ve got to say Weasley, you’re stronger than you look,” I put emphasis on using his last name, the way he always used mine. 

 “Got to be if Gryffindor’s going to keep kicking Hufflepuff arse on the quidditch pitch,” he pulled his lips back over his teeth and laughed. 

 “You wish! Just wait until you see what Cedric has in store for us this year. We beat you last year,” I pointed out. 

 “You beat us because Harry fell off his broom,” said Fred “Diggory’s no match for him.” 

 “This is going to be our best season yet,” I teased. “You’ll be kissing our arses when we win the House Cup.” 

 Fred ran a hand through his shaggy red hair and smiled at me again, “I guess we’ll see.” 

 Suddenly, the whistle on the train let out a wail, causing us both to jump. I remembered we were surrounded by people as I saw parents giving last minute hugs and handing forgotten belongings through the open windows. 

 “Better get a move on,” Fred gestured to the open door next to us. “Unless you want to take my dad’s car?” 

 I rolled my eyes at his joke and turned to climb on board the train. We walked down the narrow hallway, glancing into compartments full of students looking for our friends. Towards the end, I finally spotted Ginny, sitting with Charlie, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. George was nowhere to be seen.

 I slid open the compartment door and turned to Fred, “You’re not coming in are you?” 

 He smiled and shook his head slightly, “Gotta go find George. We’ve got mischief to attend to.” 

 “Right,” I tried to smile, but was slightly disappointed that he wasn’t going to be spending the day with us. “Well maybe I’ll see you later?” 

 “Definitely. See you later Addie,” he drew out the nickname that my friends used for me and winked. 

 “See ya, Freddie,” I replied, using the same tone. 

 I stood for a second and watched him turn and disappear back up the long hallway that was still buzzing with students trying to find a seat. I tried to wipe the silly grin off my face as I turned back around and sat down next to Charlie. I busied myself trying to settle my belongings into the storage space at my feet. When I looked up, the five of them were all staring at me with varying looks of smugness and shock. Most of the smugness was coming from Ginny and Charlie. 

 “Well I’m just going to say it,” said Ron finally. “What the bloody hell was that?”

 Charlie laughed. “Addison has a thing for Fred, obviously.” 

 “Do not!” I insisted, shooting her a warning look. 

 “Oh calm down,” dismissed Ginny, “It’s quite obvious that Fred’s got a thing for Addie too.” 

 “Fred doesn’t get ‘things’ for girls. I was starting to think he wasn’t interested in them!” bellowed Ron. 

 “Honestly Ronald,” interjected Hermione, “he’s nearly of age. I think it’s nice that he’s finally found someone he’s interested in,” she added reassuringly.

 “Look he’s not interested in me!” I blushed for what felt like the hundredth time today. 

“I think you all would be really good together,” said Harry matter-of-factly. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair. “You both play quidditch, you’re both nice and my friends. I just think it could be a good match.” 

 Ron looked at Harry in confusion, but before he could say anything Hermione started again, “I agree with Harry. I think you should go for it.” 

 “Don’t I get a say in one of my best friend’s dating my older brother?” grumbled Ginny. 

 “Christ! We aren’t dating. I hardly even know him. He just looked out for me during the craziness at the World Cup, and he just wanted to make sure I was okay.” 

 “Oh yeah,” scoffed Ginny, “that’s why he spent days writing and rewriting that four line note he sent you. Face it Addie, he’s into you.” 

 I started to protest again but suddenly Ron was shushing us. “Oi! Listen!”

 Hermione was pressing a finger to her lips and pointing at the compartment door that I’d left open. I tilted my head and listened to the familiar cold, sneering voice drifting in. 

 “… Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore – the man’s such a Mudblood-lover –” my blood chilled at the word, and I noticed Hermione’s face pale, “and Durmstrang doesn’t admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn’t like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…” 

 Ginny suddenly stood up angrily, stalked across the compartment and pulled the door closed with a woosh, effectively cutting off the voice of Draco Malfoy. A Slytherin in the same year as Harry, Draco was the son of Lucius Malfoy, a suspected supporter of Voldemort from the first war. 

 “So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?” said Hermione angrily. “I wish he had gone, then we wouldn’t have to put up with him.” 

 “What is Durmstrang?” I asked.

 “Yeah, is it another Wizarding school?” added Harry. 

 “Yes,” Hermione said to both of us, “and it’s got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts.” 

 “I think I’ve heard of that one before. Dad’s maybe talked about it. Where is it?” interjected Charlie. 

 “Well, no one really knows, do they?” said Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

 “What do you mean?” asked Ginny. I would have thought this would be a boring conversation for people already raised in the magical world, but Charlie, Ginny, and Ron seemed just as intrigued as Harry and I. 

 “Well,” started Hermione as if she were reading to us straight from a book, “There’s traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets.” 

 “Come off it,” laughed Ron. “Durmstrang’s got to be about the same size as Hogwarts – how are you going to hide a great big castle?” 

 Now it was my turn to have the answer, “Actually Ron, Hogwarts is hidden. I think they bewitch it so that muggles can only see old ruins of a castle.” 

 “So Durmstrang just looks like a ruined castle to outsiders?” asked Charlie.

 “Maybe,” said Hermione with a slight shrug, “or it might have a Muggle-repelling charm like the stadium at the World Cup. But I think It would be very far north. Somewhere very cold, because they’ve got fur capes as part of their uniforms.” 

 “Just think of the possibilities,” mused Ginny. “It would have been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident.” 

 “Shame his mother likes him..” snorted Ron. 

 I pondered the thought of the various Wizarding schools across the world as the train surged onward towards Hogwarts. The storm raged on outside the windows, and the sky was so black with rain clouds that the lanterns in the corridor were lit by lunchtime. We ate Cauldron Cakes silently as I savored the taste of the long missed Hogwarts cooking. 

 A few of Harry and Ron’s friends popped their heads in to say hello, and Cedric Diggory even stopped by to ask if Harry and I were ready for the quidditch season to start. Cedric had been very kind to me since the incident where he turned me down, and always did his best not to make things awkward, even if they were. 

 When Ron began recanting their experience in the Top Box at the Cup to Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor boy in their year, Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway of our compartment; hair slicked back, a smug smile on his face, and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle towering behind him. 

 “First and last time in your life, Weasley,” he sneered. 

 “Don’t remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,” Harry said coolly. 

 Ignoring him, Draco continued with Ron, “So… going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There’s money involved as well, you know… You’d be able to afford decent robes if you won…” he said, glancing over at the mess of lace that I could only assume was Ron’s dress robes, covering a bird cage. 

“What are you talking about?” asked Ron snappily. 

 “Are you going to enter?” Malfoy repeated more slowly, like he was talking to a child. “I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?” 

 “Either tell us what you’re going on about or beat it, Malfoy,” Ginny piped up with annoyance. A sinister smile spread across Malfoy’s face. 

 “Don’t tell me you lot don’t know?” he sounded delighted. “You’ve got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don’t even know? My god, my father told me about it ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father’s always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father’s too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes… they probably don’t talk about important stuff in front of him…” Malfoy laughed and motioned to Crabbe and Goyle and the three of them disappeared off down the hallway. 

 Ginny was clenching her fists so hard that she was surely drawing blood under her fingernails. Ron jumped up and slammed the door with such force that the glass pane shattered, sending shards spraying around the small space. 

 “Ron!” Scolded Hermione, pulling out her wand. She muttered, “Reparo!” and the glass that littered the floor and seats returned to the doorframe and repaired themselves. 

 “Honestly, Ron,” grumbled Charlie, “Don’t let Malfoy get to you like that. He’s a twat.” 

 “Him! Get to me!? As if!” Ron scoffed, but he was absentmindedly crushing a Cauldron Cake in his right hand. 

 Everyone was in a horrible mood for the rest of the train ride, so we continued the afternoon with minimal conversation. No one spoke as we changed into our house robes, the Gryffindor robes accented in scarlet, and ours in yellow. The Hogwarts Express gradually slowed, so I knew we must be getting close to Hogsmeade Station. Hogsmeade was the only entirely magical settlement in Great Britain, so it was the perfect place to let off a train full of young Wizards. 

Charlie and I excused ourselves to go find Hannah and a few other fellow Hufflepuffs before disembarking the train. As the doors slid open, a giant strike of lightnings accompanied by an immediate clap of thunder caused everyone to jump. I filed out onto the platform behind Susan Bones, a dark haired Hufflepuff in Hannah’s year. We bent over to brace against the rain, which was now coming down in what seemed like swimming pools full at a time. All but running, we made our way to the line of carriages waiting for us outside the station. 

 We climbed into one behind Hannah and Susan and slammed the door, shivering. We were all chilled to our cores, huddled together for warmth as the carriages started to roll forward, pulling themselves without horses. I tried to squint out the window at the passing forest, but couldn’t see through the curtain of rain. We soon cleared the trees and began the incline up towards the school grounds. Suddenly, the rain let up just enough for me to see. And there, etched in black against the night sky, was the silhouette of Hogwarts Castle, welcoming us home.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 14

Read it on AO3. Part 13 here. Part 15 here.

Summary: Strangers are rarely trustworthy in Gilead. But you think these three seem okay.

Words: 1800

Warnings: Handmaid AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Guys... I have... actual other characters from the source material? And they're named? This has never happened in my life. God, I'm so bad at writing fanfiction.

I'm cranking these out because I feel inspired. For now. Don't worry, Kylo Ren isn't gone forever.

I want to say thank you all for your feedback and input and everything. I love y'all so much! <3

You pulled on your gloves, glancing around the closet you’d lived in for the past few months. Though you weren’t sure what to expect today, the glow in your chest informed you with confidence that you wouldn’t be returning to this space tonight. This space, where you’d first met Commander Ren, the space where he’d kissed you, tender and anxious--you’d miss those moments. Just not where they happened. 

I’ll see you tomorrow, he’d said--but he was already gone by the time you awakened. When you bid goodbye to Emma and Rose that morning, that nag of guilt clung to your heart. How could you escape and leave them here? But to even hint to them you knew you might not return would put their lives in danger--after all, much easier to tell the truth about what you don’t know.

Heat steamed your blood when you stepped into the sun, your chest tight. Ofarmitage said you’d know them, but you had no idea what that might mean, how they might arrive, or when. The anticipation might pull at you until nighttime--maybe they’d whisk you off under the stars, muffled voices and quiet feet. Maybe it would come during dinner, mid-meal, a knock on the door, an unrehearsed ruse. And maybe they wouldn’t come today at all--maybe they’d forget about you, or just get too busy being revolutionary, or whatever.

Or maybe--you realized as you approached the Handmaid at the end of the drive--they’d come first thing in the morning.

Testing her, you began. “Blessed be the fruit.”

“May the Lord open,” she replied. Not an ounce of hesitation.

The woman in front of you was not Ofarmitage--but she was also not anyone you knew. Fair skin and chestnut hair were obscured by her wings, but as you peeked around them, you observed a well-defined jaw, the soft angles of her cheekbones leading up to moss-green eyes. When they met yours, your breath hitched, struck by some mixture of awe and fear, the power contained within her gaze paralyzing.

Ofarmitage had been right. You’d know these people when you met them. And whoever this was, she was here for you.

“I’m--”

“I know.” She was moving, head craned to the ground, voice low and quick. “Listen carefully. When we reach the checkpoint, a van will pull up and an Angel will tell the Guardians that you and I have been identified for possible re-education. Say nothing.”

Your body tensed. “Okay…”

You’d hoped that she’d elaborate on this, or provide more instructions--but she said nothing else. The short warning gave you both far too much and far too little time to panic--with every step, your heart rate ballooned, blood building in your neck, flooding your face. If you’d been hot before, you were frying, now, futilely resisting the urge to glimpse the Guardians, to see if you could spot any hint of suspicion on their faces. The closer you came, the shorter your breath, until you were within only feet, and you were certain that any bit of oxygen in a five-foot radius had combusted from your temperature.

“Your pass,” said one.

It had seemed so silly to you that they asked for your pass despite recognizing and seeing you every day--but then again, here you were, with a Handmaid that was most definitively not Ofarmitage, pretending as if everything was normal. Panic choked you as your hand crawled for your pass, waiting for this fabled van--the other woman stood there, said nothing, head bowed so low the men wouldn’t be able to see her face.

“Pass.” The other one sounded a little more impatient.

Eager to show you could listen, you tugged at your pass and showed it in silence, and the Guardian gave a huff of acknowledgement. The other woman was patting herself, and you swallowed, mouth dry. Why wasn’t she showing her pass? Did she even have a pass?

“Show your pass.” The Guardian stepped forward, and you heard metal clicking as he brandished his rifle. “Now.”

The urge to make an excuse was biting at your tongue, but the fear of betraying your possible escape loomed greater, until the Guardian came a step closer, reached for her wrist--

Before you could speak, the rumble of an engine swept behind you, a rush of air whipping your skirts at your ankles. Embarrassed, the Guardians stepped back, and you glanced over--a black van with white wings plastered on the paneling idled to your left. You stood, frozen, as the door swung and slammed. A man you couldn’t yet look in the face had arrived. So far, this stranger had kept her word.

Briefly, it crossed your mind that this entire situation could be a trap and you were about to be carted off to be tortured, or to the Colonies, or maybe just straight-up strung up by your neck. Within the moment of terror, you accepted this as an outcome--the alternatives were as just as appealing.

“Stand down,” the man said, and the two Guardians stepped back. “Your passes.”

As if by magic, the woman next to you had found her pass, and displayed it to the man--you followed suit, keeping your gaze locked on the ground.

“Get in the van.”

“Sir--”

“The Eyes have identified these individuals as possible subjects for reeducation,” the Angel said, just as you’d been told to expect. “We’ll be taking them for further questioning.”

“Oh,” said one of the Guardians. “Yes… yes, sir.”

Another door opened, and the other woman moved into the van, and you followed, your wings feeling too tight around your head. As you gripped the side of the vehicle to get in, you realized your hands were trembling. No, no--all of you was trembling. You sat down next to your would-be accomplice, eyes trained on your lap, and the door shut, and then another.

“Drive, drive,” the Angel said--and the van lurched, screeching onto the streets.

“Yes!” The woman next to you ripped off her wings, and you watched, cheeks hot, as she high-fived the Angel. “We did it! That was awesome! You nailed it, back there!”

“No, you were great!” It was only now you were getting to look at him--dark hair, dark eyes, and   a huge, gorgeous smile, white teeth contrasted with dark skin. His face was gentle and kind--not at all what you’d pictured when you’d heard the severity of his voice. “I thought for sure you were going to kick that Guardian’s ass.”

“It was close!” she said. “You and Poe arrived at just the right time.”

Poe--you glanced at the driver, a handsome man with a square jaw, black, curly hair, and a confident smirk. “It was always the plan.”

The woman turned to you, a grin splitting her face. You wanted to blush. “You made it! How are you? Are you all right?”

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded. You’d actually done it. The fear of Commander Ren’s reaction loomed in your mind. “I’m--I’m okay.”

She gripped your shoulder. “I know this is strange. But you’re safe now. Thank you for trusting us. Oh, and my name is Rey.” She gestured to the two men in front. “That’s Finn, and that’s Poe.”

“Hello.” It’d only been a couple years, but it was still so strange to greet men by looking them in the eye--you hadn’t expected the hesitation you were feeling now. You wanted to crawl inside your own skin. “Thank you, all of you. Very much.”

“What’s your name?” Rey asked, leaning forward.

“Ofkylo,” you replied automatically--and their faces maintained a look of anticipation. You balked at your own stupidity, face burning. “Oh, God, shit, that’s not my name--”

“No, no, it’s okay--”

“It happens all the time--”

“Don’t worry about it--”

“No,” you said, “no, it’s not okay.”

You stared at your hands as they turned to fists. Forget years, it’d only been a couple of months since you’d become Ofkylo, and it was the first identity out of your mouth. Your intimacy with your Commander--no, Kylo Ren--had seemed almost invigorating in the prison of his home, as if you had some illusion of influence, some pretense of power. But now, in the face of real, unshackled existence, your fantasy shattered, splinters poking into you, mocking you. The humiliation tumbled, sharp shards in your chest, and you growled, burying your head in your hands. God, you hated him. You hated what he’d done to you. More than anything, you hated what you’d become.

“God!” Shouting resonated through your bones. “Fuck! Fuck you, Kylo Ren!”

A hand rested on your back, rubbing circles into the spot between your shoulder blades. Flinching, you thought you might cry--but tears refused to form, as they had done for the past few years--so you screamed, clawing at your face, curling into your lap, willing reality to end, until you collapsed, throat sore, limbs quaking.

Kylo Ren had used you like a toy, or an instrument, something he took out of storage for his entertainment, something to be locked up again when he was done. The fact that even for an instant you’d tricked yourself into feeling special made your skin blaze with embarrassment. His tenderness, his confusion, his damn handwriting--none of it mattered now, and you wanted to blast every recollection to fragments.

Heaving a sigh, you straightened up, looking between Rey and Finn. Rey’s hand hovered over your back, and you nodded, permission for her to take it away.

“It’s really okay,” she said. “You’re not the only Handmaid to do that.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You pulled your gloves off, watching your flesh come alive. “It’s what it means, you know?”

You shook your head, and, holding your breath, tore your wings from your head, tossing them behind you. After that, you plucked the pins from your hair, gasping in relief as pressure evaporated from your skull.

“My name…” Staring at your saviors, you spoke it aloud, and it fluttered off of your tongue with soft, buttery wings. The moment you said it, you cursed the voice in the back of your brain, wondering what it would sound like coming off Kylo Ren’s tongue. Fuck him. “That’s my name.”

“Then that’s what we’ll call you.” Rey smiled. It was a weight off your soul. She turned to the front of the vehicle, peering through the windshield. Outside, you could see a large home--not as large as your Commander’s, but still pretty damn big. “We’re almost there,” “she said. “I can’t wait to show you around.”

[three-houses-text-files]

lorenz/manuela

c-a support + paired ending

c

Manuela: Ah, Lorenz. Do you have a moment to spare, my dear? Lorenz: Hello, Professor Manuela. I trust all is well with you? M: I am quite well, quite well. Thank you for asking. You are always such a gentleman. L: Thank you for saying so. How may I be of service? M: I was wondering if we might spend a little time together. Maybe, chat a bit? L: Certainly. It is an honor to speak with someone as elegant as yourself. L: I’ve just made tea. Would you like a cup? M: Oh, that would be just lovely. Lorenz, I hope you won't think it too forward of me, but... M: I was wondering if you could explain a poem to me? It goes like this... M: Verdant rains soothe... My aching heart like a cherished friend... M: Amid time's flow I mourn... Bonds I'm not sure I can ever rend... M: As my mind clings to desperate thoughts... Here it comes, Horsebow Moon and summer's end... L: Oh. That's, um... That's my poem. M: As I suspected. I've checked absolutely everyone's handwriting. M: It's a sad poem though, isn't it? Feels lonely. Possibly even, dare I say, defeated. M: What makes you feel that way, Lorenz? Why aren't you happy? I very much want to know. L: Well, I suppose I— Wait, why are you reading my poetry? Where did you even get that?! M: I found it. And when I saw the words, I read them. That's what people do when they see words. They read them. L: Kindly return that at once! Reading someone else's work without permission?! What an egregious breach of etiquette! Honestly! M: Oh, dear. Snatching at something someone else is holding. How violent. It's not like you to lose your composure, Lorenz. L: Please—just forget you ever saw it. I beg you. M: I'm afraid I could never forget that peek into the darkness of your soul. Nor would I want to. L: Then at the very least would you kindly promise not to mention it to anyone else?! M: Don't feel embarrassed! No! Be proud. It's a lovely piece of writing. Quite revealing. M: I'd never guess you'd have such hidden depths. Tell me more. L: That’s quite enough! M: Oh, that's absolutely adorable. So bashful. I simply must hear more of his poetry sometime soon.

——————————————————————————————

b

M: ♪Amid time's flow I mourn... Bonds I am unsure I can ever rend... ♪ L: Is that Professor Manuela? L: Her voice is every bit as fine as you might expect from the former leader of the Mittelfrank Troupe... L: If it weren't for her drinking, and her woefully inadequate manners, she would fit right in with high society—wait a minute... M: ♪As my mind clings to desperate thoughts... Here it comes, Horsebow Moon and summer's end...♪ L: That’s my—oh, no. No, no, no! M: Oh, Lorenz! I heard you shout. Are you OK? L: The poem! My poem! Forget it, I said! I asked you for one thing! M: And I told you it would be impossible for me to forget. L: Certainly I understand, but setting it to music? And now singing it? M: Oh, yes! It makes for a beautiful song, doesn't it? M: I'm feeling so lonely and blue. My dearest has left. He is gone far away, and I'm here. All alone. M: And in my sadness, your poem... Well, it became a song for me to sing. It brought me a moment of happiness... L: I do not know who spurned you, but I assure you my poem has nothing to do with any such feelings. L: It is getting late. We should both turn in. I will take my leave now. M: Oh. I understand. You're leaving me too. Why? Am I too old to matter? L: No, I never said any such thing. Why, I am sure there are plenty of men who would prefer a mature woman such as yourself. M: "Mature," he says. I knew it. You're all the same, you know. M: No one sees the person behind the voice. They just see me older today than yesterday. They say, "Oh, look what happened to her." M: Nobody sees my frustration, my resignation to be forever alone. But you do. It's all right there in your poem. L: Please. I assure you, my poem was not about that at all. It was actually about the ideal of nobility. L: The sentiment is that, someday, I know I will get what I want. There is no resignation in it, as you seem to be suggesting. M: Lorenz... M: I was sure the poem was more about someone lamenting their frailty and the loneliness of time's passing. M: But that's not it at all, is it? This is the story of someone impatient to get ahead. Who is afraid they'll never make it. L: The speaker in the poem does lament his shortcomings. The road to reach his ideal is long. L: It is a trial. A test. If he can just find his way through it, he knows he can move forward. L: So I think you should try to move forward too. Because with a voice as talented as yours, how could you possibly fail? M: Lorenz... Someday you should let me sing this song in public. M: I think people who are battling through their own trials...they might find comfort in this. And I believe I'm the only one who can do your work justice. L: Very well. You have my assent. On the condition that you do not attach my name to it. L: Now, permit me to retire for the night. I require ample rest to maintain an adequate level of polish, you know. L: I suppose if my poem must be set to music, then it had best be done by such a talented singer.

——————————————————————————————

a

M: ♪As my mind clings to desperate thoughts... Here it comes, Horsebow Moon and summer's end...♪ M: Did you hear me just now? What did you think? L: Marvelous. As though sung by the goddess herself. L: Enchanting. Heartrending. Your voice truly captivates all who hear. L: It is as though you channel all the emotion and human experience of your life into the music. M: Well, I guess I have my fair share of life experience. So long as you're not implying I'm old... L: No, that is not— I mean to say that you skillfully applied your own interpretation in the music. M: Interpretation? When I sing, I am not interpreting. I'm scarcely thinking at all. M: I simply yield my heart to the poetry, and the emotion follows naturally. L: I believe that is what they call genius. L: I hope you will permit me to listen again. I would like to hear it up close next time. M: Of course. Next time I'll perform a private show. Just the two of us... L: You mock me?! M: Never. I wasn't mocking you. In fact, I'd like to see some more of your poetry. L: My poetry? Why? M: I'd like to use it for another song. I promise that when it's done, you'll be the first to hear. L: Please. My poetry is merely an idle pursuit. M: That doesn't matter. The words are unadorned—the feelings so direct. M: Your poems have touched my heart. They are so true to life. L: I suppose there is a certain appeal in the portrayal of such dark emotions. Even if it is a bit graceless. L: Very well. Take this. You may use any of the poems I've finished working on. M: Oh my. I can hardly wait... M: Is this the next part of the poem I was singing just now? L: Yes. I wrote that after I heard you sing the first part. L: I had nearly given up on it, to be honest, but your music gave me the inspiration to continue. L: Though it is still quite unpolished, and not at all ready for a broader readership, I feel. M: Unpolished? No, Lorenz. It's beautiful. Thank you. To think that my voice inspired you... M: Yet it's you who inspires my voice. I'm so excited to start a new song! L: Yes, please do!

——————————————————————————————

paired ending

As the new head of House Gloucester, Lorenz first worked to restore his own territory, and then expanded his vision to include reforms for all Fódlan. At the height of his storied political career, he announced his marriage to Manuela, who had established a new school for children in a small town. Seeing the beauty in Manuela's dream, Lorenz put all his resources toward building schools like Manuela's all over Fódlan, providing education to scores of children who had been left helpless by the war. After many years of success and prosperity, a bronze statue of the couple was erected at the original school to honor their achievement. It stands to this day.

[avelera]

So Raleigh and Mako have their iconic first face-to-face meeting at the helipad and people have written meta about how drift-memories show Mako silhouetted and haloed by the umbrella while Raleigh looks commanding and soulful. We know they'd been writing for a few years but do you have any strong headcanons about how Newton and Hermann first met face-to-face?

(For the record, I LOVE that meta about Raleigh and Mako that you’re referencing!)

This is a really interesting question, Anon! A lot of my headcanons kinda come about either because of fanfic I read that feels “right” or expediency for something I need in a story where I need an explanation that feels “right”. My headcanon about their first meeting is definitely a combination of those two. I think the @hermannhaslovedthestars webcomic does an EXCELLENT job and really solidified for me a sense of what happened, and a vague reference to that sort of set up (which I’ll describe below) even played into some dialogue I wrote for the latest Prisoners’ Dilemma chapter (hopefully forthcoming this week).

I’ll go into detail below, putting it below a cut so I can ramble ;P

So I think their first meeting was a huge disappointment for both of them, like soul-crushing. They had been writing canonically “passionate” letters to one another for years, the idea they were crushing hard on one another remotely is so ubiquitous in fanon it’s practically canon at this point. My thoughts on this draw from other PR meta I’ve enjoyed but they include:

- The letters helped filter out some of Newt’s more rambling and hyperactive interactions and leveled him out enough that he came across as, y’know, a normal human. It also let his genius shine in a way Hermann found appealing. 

- Likewise for Hermann–I was going to say that the letters helped Hermann come out of his shell but I just realized that’s fanon and not canon. Canonically, Hermann has no trouble butting into conversations he’s not a part of and saying rather embarrassing personal things like the “Handwriting of God” speech. At least when it comes to his field (which is the extent of how we see him really in the films) he’s not shy at all. So let’s let that fanon die for a second. 

- Really what the letters probably did for Hermann was make him less of a stern, judgmental jerk hung up on his work. He’s a bit of a forbidding person even (if not especially) with his social awkwardness. So I imagine it’s more that the letters allowed him the perceived privacy (see his rule about “public displays of affection”) to open up a bit and maybe even make flirtatious overtures and give compliments to Newt. So letters helped him come across as a normal human as well, one who can give displays of affection. 

- So then you’ve got this situation where both of them in person are so much more abrasive than they are over letters. Newt is too loud and chaotic and any playful jabs he makes probably don’t land right and end up stinging Hermann’s pride instead. Hermann is too stern and serious, a total killjoy, and his waspishness is on full display. He won’t do anything affectionate in public, where they probably met, so none of his softer side can come through. Newt is bouncing off the walls and not checking himself at all or slowing down to clarify his point or pad it with anything less than his unfiltered internal monologue.

- I see both of their worst social habits going into absolute overdrive as the first meeting progresses. They were both already super nervous, and then as things don’t click they get even more nervous, so they both fall back on their worst behavior instincts, insulting one another and trying to shore up their pride (which both have in spades, to the point of arrogance). This just makes matters worse and before you know it, they’re both in too deep to calm down and check in with one another and see if there’s been some kind of misunderstanding along the way. 

- All their worst fears about the other, and about this meeting, are realized. This is in part because I’m sure both had a best case scenario and a worst case scenario in their head, with nothing in between (even though reality is always in between), and it becomes this self-fulfilling prophecy when everything isn’t amazing and it’s not this incredible meeting of souls where finally all the social isolation they’ve felt elsewhere just melts away because they’re with each other.

- Because here’s the thing, our social habits don’t just go away when we’re with someone we care for. No one can read our minds. And it takes a bit of acclimation before even the most attentive soulmate can read what’s really happening in our heads. I think from the letters they thought they knew one another very well and, sure, they knew one another’s minds very well, but not their social cues like, “I insult people when I’m nervous,” for Newt or “I snap at people when I feel like I’ve lost control of a situation,” for Hermann. 

- By the way, Hermann canonically shows he cares by snapping at Newt, for example about his safety for the Drift experiment, disguised as criticism of the experiment itself, which Newt was unable to see for what it was. Meanwhile, Newt is like an immature kid on the playground: he pulls Hermann’s proverbial pigtails because he wants his attention, regardless of whether it’s positive or negative attention. But look at how he puffs up around Hannibal Chau as well and tries to impress him! Newt pokes the bear with people whose positive attention he craves, which are people he respects. If he didn’t respect Hermann, he wouldn’t care about getting his attention at all, but Hermann can’t read that about him.

- Most tragically though, I think both of them needed that meeting to be everything for them. They needed to see fireworks and hear the choirs of angels singing. At even the first sign of awkwardness, which could have even been just due to mistranslation or confusion, I think the first chink in the armor appeared, and then everything fell apart like dominoes after that as the anxiety level skyrocketed when things didn’t go as well as they had dreamed (and of course they didn’t, because they couldn’t). And that built the resentment as the other “betrayed” what Newt/Hermann needed from him, emotionally, to the point where it became a wall that was impossible to climb over without one of them, at least one of these two prideful, socially inept geniuses to back down. Someone needed to bend and say, “Hey, did I miss something?” but I also think, for the record, that both of them were bullied growing up and when you’re bullied you often learn 1) how to be a bully yourself and 2) how to not show weakness. So they locked themselves in a game of chicken where neither could back down from being a jerk because to admit weakness was to lose. The pen-pal becomes the enemy and neither knew how to stop it from spiraling further after that.

- I do think they both secretly know they “like” each other, or at least that they see themselves as “in the trenches” together and that they do have positive interactions (largely despite themselves) over the year, but in order to end the fighting, it really does take Hermann conceding that he cares whether or not Newt lives or dies with the “I’ll go with you,” line about the Drift. He’s conceding that Newt’s idea will work (which he resisted before) and helping Newt. Newt immediately construes it as a romantic overture because, well, it kind of is for them in a way that I consider borderline canonical given that the actors played them as in love in Uprising. Hermann ducks a little bit there and pleads “the end of the world” as a reason for his change of heart, but Newt basically disregards that (as he does many things Hermann says, lol) and makes it a friendship thing anyway which Hermann responds to as well, giving lie to his claim that it was pure business.

So to go back to that first meeting… I think it was a date. Maybe they met at a bar or a coffee shop. Maybe it was more romantic than that. Maybe one of them set it up to be a date and the other thought they’d meet before trying to date, and the wires got all crossed. But I absolutely believe that both built up this first meeting in their mind to such heights that there’s no way on earth that they wouldn’t walk away disappointed in some way, and that’s exactly what happened.

Edit: Actually, I wanted to add how I think that would play visually. 

I bet in their memories there is a visual change in the Drift from what “really” happened.

I bet both of them are larger than life in that memory. I bet in the memory of the first time they laid eyes on each other they both look amazing, like the hottest fanartist take on the other that you can imagine. Newt looks like a rockstar. Hermann looks like, well, Burn Gorman in a suit when he’s not trying to look “like Hermann” (which has a whole physicality around it to downplay how fucking hot that man really is). 

I bet it morphs. I bet they both start to take on aspects of a childhood bully the other had. Newt becomes sneering, Hermann becomes disdainful. They start to “look” like someone who is out to get them but maybe, just maybe, the attractiveness level doesn’t drop. Hey, if you’ve been bullied, if you’ve been socially awkward, then chance are you’ve been rejected by someone you perceived as attractive, to the point where attractiveness itself becomes forbidding. 

It could play into them making the other out to be some sort of obnoxious little goblin that’s out to get them: downplay the threat, make it ridiculous and mock it so it isn’t as scary. Hermann is constantly pointing out to others and himself how hopeless Newt is, Newt points out how Hermann’s (probably staggering) intelligence is pointless and basically just self-important noise. 

But to go back, I think visually in the Drift they’d see one another as “sneering” for most of their memories, but it would be like scars overlaying this borderline angelic or heroic first image of them informed by that love and hope that things would work between them, before they opened their goddamn stupid mouths and ruined it.

[shruggingcutely]

MocaTsugu! They’re gay and they kiss!

Big thanks to the artist who draws really good trans girl Bandoris and sold me on concepts such as MocaTsugu, everyone x Misaki, or Kaoru as top. They deleted most of their art from pixiv, though, and while they’re still active on Twitter I don’t really feel comfortable linking when I don’t know why they deleted everything. Why am I even mentioning this? First of all art is good and gay art of trans girls is good. Also, if you’re a decent internet detective you now have enough information to find them anyway. Please be nice

Also Moca is trans

Word count: 4.4k-ish

Rating: Lots of kissing and some references to, uh, physiological responses to arousal. And paper work. I did give it a T on AO3, though.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142222

Tsugumi filled the student council office with the clacking of the calculator’s keys. “Estimated expenses… hmm… Why so many tennis rackets?”

The numbers on the sheet checked out, barely legible as they were, so Tsugumi added it to the pile. Almost done now. Stretching her arms, Tsugumi looked around the empty room bathed in the orange of sunset. Usually this light made her feel connected to her friends, who were no doubt seeing the same vista, but the atmosphere in her school, this late, let loneliness win. She wasn’t going to call or text anyone, though, when it would just drag out her work.

Tsugumi checked the final few forms. If she hurried… well, she didn’t really have anything to do until practice. Was there a point in hurrying? Her friends would probably tell her to slow down, but Tsugumi liked working hard, especially when her job and its results were clear. She would surely find something else to do with the left-over time. Tsugumi’s experience had taught her those trying to keep busy would always find something, anything.

She blinked the exhaustion out of her eyes and went back at it. The drama club… That would probably take a while. As the star of the school’s clubs it needed a significant budget and of course the school would have to order the equipment and the club often tried to leverage its status and popularity by asking for the… not impossible per se, but certainly troublesome. Despite this, Tsugumi smiled. Maya would get some new toys to play with and her excitement frequently proved infectious.

A knock on the door startled Tsugumi out of her work rhythm. Before she could answer, Moca entered. Classic Moca. Strange for her to be at school this late, actually, as a member of the go-home club.

“I could hear you being tsugurific all the way outside.” Moca crossed her arms. “Still working?”

“Yeah, but I’m almost done.” Goodbye loneliness. If she could have picked a single one of her friends to suddenly show up, it was definitely Moca. She didn’t get as upset with Tsugumi’s workaholic tendencies, and she carried with her a relaxing aura. When they were alone her jokes also kinda became funnier? Or at least less mean. Why just her, though? Tomoe and Himari had shifts at their part-time job, but Ran not accompanying Moca was unusual. Moca liked to boast about their inseparable bond. “You’re on your own?”

“Ran realized she’d run out of guitar strings. Because I pointed it out.” Moca shook her head. “Where would everyone be without me?”

Tsugumi giggled. “But you didn’t go with her?”

“Mmh, Ran is almost an adult now. Girl’s gotta spread her wings a little. Ah, how time flies. But back to you, Tsugu. Whatcha doin’?”

“I’m just double-checking these forms before filing them away.”

Moca glanced at the sheet in front of Tsugumi. “Club expenses? Taking care of that isn’t your job, is it?”

Tsugumi forced a laugh. “Not quite… I don’t have to double-check, but if there is a mistake it will cause everyone a lot of trouble, so...”

“Found a mistake yet?”

“No….”

“Tsugu~” Moca’s voice took a sterner tone and she, well, ‘scowl’ was a strong word. Mildly disappointed mom face, maybe? “Aren’t you just burying yourself in busywork?”

“That’s not… Um… It’s very important and….”

“Someone else’s responsibility.”

Tsugumi couldn’t keep up the strained smile anymore. Nail hit on the head. “Y-yeah…”

“We keep telling you to take care of yourself and rest more, don’t we?”

“You do….”

“We’re not saying that to be mean. Well, I’m not, ‘cause I’m an angel, maybe Ran wants to be mean.”

“N-no! I, I know, but I… If I don’t do some kind of work I get restless and… and a little anxious and… think about stuff….”

Moca leaned forward and pulled Tsugumi in a pretty lax hug. Doubly lax because Tsugumi was sitting and Moca was not. “Tsugu, what kinda stuff?”

Tsugumi gripped Moca’s shirt almost out of reflex. “It’s just… Everyone… You’re all so good at… and I’m… I’m not, so…”

“Tsugu. Even if you can’t make yourself believe it, you are good. You are more than good enough. You don’t need to push yourself so hard. Your cute Moca guarantees it. We are all proud of you. Like for real. Pat yourself on the back for once. Ah, but listen to me getting all sappy, huh.”

“M-Moca….” Her eyes stinging, Tsugumi pulled Moca closer and sniffled. Hugging Moca was always a special occasion because of how rarely it happened, so Tsugumi tried to hold on tight to kind of… convince her not let go?

Moca stroked Tsugumi’s hair. “There, there.”

Tsugumi took in Moca’s warmth and trust and the faint smell of fresh bread that clung to her so often. It was comfort, it was home. It was Moca. Tsugumi wiped her eyes, mostly for show. “Thanks, Moca.”

“Well now,” Moca said, “this position is not the best, so if you could…”

Tsugumi immediately let go. “Sorry!!”

Moca stood upright and stretched her back a little. Perhaps with some theatrics. “So, how much until you’re done?” Sitting down next to Tsugumi, Moca absentmindedly stuck her hands in her pockets before realizing she was still wearing her school uniform with its pocketless skirt. She tried to play it off by patting her lap. Tsugumi pretended she hadn’t noticed.

“That’s… Three left.”

“Hmm. I can’t be of much use with that, but,” Moca shot Tsugumi a mischievous glance, “you could also not do it.”

Tsugumi giggled. “Now that I’m almost done and you’re here with me, I think I can finish it in record time!”

“There you go, being all tsugurific again.” Moca smiled and patted Tsugumi’s back. She paused for a moment, then switched to rubbing it. “I’ll be your support~”

Tsugumi did the remaining calculations, added a note for clarification (what terrible handwriting, she’d have to ask them to take more care), only slightly confused by Moca’s fingers occasionally running over the back strap of her bra, and filed away form after form in the shelf to her right. Moca did or said weird things regularly, so Tsugumi didn’t think much of it. Tsugumi stretched her arms one final time, a ritual to signal a finished job, and turned to Moca. “All done! Thank you so much, Moca!”

“No problem! What did I do again?”

Tsugumi smiled. Goofball. “You always have my back! ...Sometimes literally. We still have some time until we have to get to the studio, do you wanna go somewhere?”

Moca tapped Tsugumi’s now empty seat. “Let’s rest a little after all this hard work.”

“Sure!” Tsugumi sat back down and took a sip of water from the bottle she carried around in her bag. “Want some?”

Moca nodded and took an honestly probably rude number of sips before returning the bottle. It felt silly for Tsugumi not to drink a little more after that, so she went with the flow.

“Gotta stay hydrated!” Tsugumi stuck the bottle in her bag and nodded at Moca, whose eyes kind of…. fixated on hers. Moca seemed to catch herself and ruffled Tsugumi’s hair. “Wh-what’s wrong, Moca?” Unusually quiet, Moca… wait, was she blushing? “Did you want more water?”

“No, I was just thinking that…” Moca scratched her head and shrugged. “You know….” Nervous Moca? Even rarer than hugging Moca. “We still have some time and you’re… we’re….” Moca rubbed her forehead. Her mouth did some weird gymnastics like she couldn’t decide on an expression to make. “I know a great way to relax.”

“Y-yeah?” Was it something complicated that made Moca sound so uncertain? Was Moca, the confident Moca, not confident in what she was suggesting? She seemed frustrated with herself. In that case, Tsugumi knew what to do. She turned all the way to face Moca. “I’m all ears!”

Moca gazed in Tsugumi’s eyes and, totally blushing for real, grabbed the keys from her desk and locked the door. “It’d be embarrassing if someone suddenly walked in, so.” Leaving the keys in the lock, she got back to her seat and added, “if you don’t want to, we’ll just go for a walk outside or whatever.”

Yeah, but… “Wh-what is it? This… secret relaxation technique?” If Moca was offering a massage, it really would be embarrassing to be seen by someone else. Particularly if Moca asked Tsugumi to take off her shirt. A massage, though… She’d never expected Moca to be the type. As far as surprises went, Tsugumi had no complaints at all. But Moca probably had a weak grip with how calm she always was? Or maybe not! Who could tell, maybe she also took it seriously like how she took the guitar seriously. Tsugumi hoped for that one. Devil-may-care Moca looking all focused on something had an undeniable appeal.

Moca took hold of Tsugumi’s left hand, and looked up at her. The glint in her eyes, like they were doing something forbidden, made Tsugumi shiver, but not in a bad way. “Tsugu, we’ll keep this a secret between us, okay?”

“O-okay…” Tsugumi swallowed. Massage, please! Please? It had to be something special for Moca to get so… quiet? Well, not quiet so much as she seemed to study Tsugumi’s reaction very closely and always waited for her to reply. Kinda like in some of her favorite shoujo manga where everyone wasn’t so violent (?) about kissing.

…Hang on.

Moca’s gaze met Tsugumi’s. Her hand moved to Tsugumi’s shoulder and steadied her, which Tsugumi appreciated with how the atmosphere in the room, and Moca’s usually cool eyes turning a warm shade of orange in the sunset, flustered her. Moca’s face came closer, millimeter by millimeter. She glanced down at Tsugumi’s mouth. “Tsugu…” Tsugumi could feel the breath on her lips. “Is it…” Moca made eye contact again. “Is it okay…?” The hand on Tsugumi’s shoulder slid upward, along Tsugumi’s neck, and stopped at her jaw.

“M-Moca…” Tsugumi blinked rapidly. Where had this come from? Was Moca in love with her? Since when? She hadn’t noticed anything. Which, to be fair, is what she would have expected from Moca. Not expecting it. Immensely flattering, though. She felt her face flush. “Y-you mean… you…?”

Moca forced a shy (??) grin. “I did ditch my best friend to be with you.” She lowered her gaze. “I don’t want to… to ruin… you know, like I said, if you don’t want to we can just forget this ever happened and….”

Tsugumi gripped Moca’s hand tighter and with her other hand cupped Moca’s cheek, mirroring hers. She tried to flash Moca a confident smile, because Tsugumi instinctively needed to support her friends when they were wavering. Half a second later she allowed herself to realize what she also needed, or at least wanted so much it felt like needing, was for Moca to keep going.

“Tsugu…” So close now, Tsugumi could all but feel Moca’s lips as she spoke. “Close your eyes?” Tsugumi did. She waited, her heart pounding, lips tightening. A faint tickle, then Moca’s lips were truly, undoubtedly on hers. The feeling of someone’s, of Moca’s hot lips. The strong grip – so she had a strong grip! – on Tsugumi’s hand. Moca’s thumb gently stroking Tsugumi’s cheek. Again, unexpected.

Tsugumi inhaled sharply, more surprise than anything, and Moca immediately backed off. Tsugumi’s eyes shot open to gauge Moca’s reaction as she covered her mouth. Moca also waited for a response. “W-was it bad?” Moca asked.

The tingling echoed in Tsugumi’s lips. So different from anything else she’d ever felt, yet weirdly similar to the feeling of soda sparkling on her lips? But what it was definitely not was bad. She took Moca’s hand. “Moca, you know, I, I really love your confidence.” Tsugumi smiled. “And I’m not sure how it felt… so… well….”

A familiar grin returned to Moca’s face. As fascinating as nervous (?) Moca was, Tsugumi definitely preferred Moca like this. “Looks like your cute Moca has to get tsugurific for once.”

Her cute Moca. A soft twinge in Tsugumi’s chest. “What does that even mean?”

“This.” Moca kissed her, briefly and all smiles. When their eyes met again the smiles slowly faded. Tsugumi shut her eyes. Moca’s lips returned, but this time they stayed like this for a moment. They parted slightly and closed, and a little breath escaped Tsugumi. Her chest felt tight, but comfortingly. “Good?”

“Y-yeah… It’s like… It’s good…”

“Mmh, of course you can’t think straight when you’re kissing me.”

“I, I love when –” Moca continued, a bit more forcefully. Her hand on Tsugumi’s nape, Moca pulled her closer. Her fingers crawled up the back of Tsugumi’s head, tickling her all the way. As their lips relaxed and they experimented with what felt best (everything??), Tsugumi couldn’t help but sigh, almost moan, with contentment. Moca had found the right amount of forcefulness where Tsugumi both felt safe but also so incredibly excited like she was about to burst. She giggled at the thought that she was cookie dough in Moca’s hands. Then Moca, just barely, licked her lips.

Tsugumi grabbed onto Moca. She returned the lick, because she couldn’t bear the thought of Moca stopping out of concern. And Moca did not stop. While Tsugumi held onto Moca’s arms and shoulders and enjoyed the hint of muscle she could feel through the uniform, Moca seemed to be testing what she could get away with – everything. One hand on Tsugumi’s thigh and the other gently nudging her mouth open, Moca sucked on and licked Tsugumi’s lips, carefully at first and slowly getting rougher, almost painful but in the way that made Tsugumi crave more. Like a massage, funnily enough.

Tsugumi lowered her head, kind of leaning on Moca’s collarbone, and caught her breath. She couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Just a fuzzy white in her mind.

Moca had left a trail of spit on her chin and while Tsugumi would have loved to lick it off rather than waste it, her tongue couldn’t reach and her thumb had to do. Was kissing always this… messy? Or were they just bad at it? Next to Tsugumi’s ear, Moca tried to calm her breath as well. Focusing on Moca, however, did not help Tsugumi come down from her high at all.

Tsugumi pushed Moca against the back of her seat, moved over to straddle her and sat down on Moca’s lap. “Can we do more?” As Moca gazed up at her, maybe a little surprised, Tsugumi wiped away a pearl of sweat from Moca’s forehead. The gaze quickly became too much for Tsugumi, though, and she embraced Moca tightly to get her face out of Moca’s field of vision. She nuzzled up Moca’s neck. The smell of fresh bread, with a bit of peach mixed in.

“Tsugu… look at me?” Tsugumi didn’t dare, so when she didn’t look Moca’s hand unceremoniously landed on Tsugumi’s boob. Tsugumi gasped. “Tsugu, I’m a coward,” Moca half-whispered. “I always brush everything off with a joke, and when I can’t do that I run away. I’ve been trying to get better about it, because you’re there. You always push us to be our best selves and I love that about you. So much. But the other reason I joke around is… it’s because I want your smile. It makes me forget to breathe, did you know that? And not just your smile. …Also,” Tsugumi could hear the grin in Moca’s voice now, “that time when we got locked in at school… I thought you were real cool taking charge like that. Nothing seems all that bad when you’re with me.”

“M-Moca, I…. Thank you, I, I had no idea…. But… I don’t know if now is the best time, when… your hand….”

Chuckling, Moca squeezed Tsugumi’s chest lightly. Tsugumi almost squealed. “Well, you’re not looking at me right now. I told you I’m a coward.” Good point, but the logical consequence? If Tsugumi wanted Moca to be her best self, then… Tsugumi gathered all her mischievous energy and kissed Moca’s neck. Moca’s quick breathing sounded muffled like she was covering her mouth unsuccessfully. Tsugumi kissed harder, her teeth grazing Moca’s skin. “Tsugu, that’s…!”

“Good?” Tsugumi straightened her back and stared into Moca’s big and now surprisingly dark eyes. “I thought you were really cool too, back then. Helping us all stay together. And always, really. I know that even when you joke around I can rely on you.”

“Tsugu, you’re….” Moca rubbed the spot Tsugumi had kissed and snorted. Did she want to take the lead again? Something about it was adorable. That kiss clearly had an effect on her, but she wanted to take care of Tsugumi. Or protect her pride? Also cute.

Moca smiled up at her and pulled Tsugumi down so her butt rested firmly on Moca’s thighs, like to make the space between them both disappear. She adjusted a strand of Tsugumi’s hair, kissed two of her fingers and pressed them on Tsugumi’s lips. In return Tsugumi planted a quiet kiss on Moca’s forehead.

Tsugumi felt she had to break the silence. She wanted to be honest with her feelings so Moca could be, too. “M-Moca, when you touched me it was… it was hot. I, I mean, my body felt so hot! And wh-when we were kissing too…. I, I really like it.”

“Did I awaken Tsugu the kissing demon~?” Moca grinned. She paused for a long moment. “Tsugu, it was… amazing when you kissed me too…. I want to kiss you more.”

Tsugumi barely stopped herself from calling Moca a good girl. This time Tsugumi had the height advantage, so she covered Moca’s eyes with one hand and kissed her. Moca’s arms wrapped around her so tight Tsugumi almost couldn’t breathe. Tsugumi carefully went from licking Moca’s lips on the outside to licking them from inside, where Moca reciprocated equally as gently. With her fingers Tsugumi played with Moca’s earlobe, so painfully red, while Moca’s hands wandered. Tsugumi licked the spit off Moca’s lower lip and Moca did the same to her before they, with a smile, continued getting them wet again. Moca’s hand found its way to Tsugumi’s chest once more, where it not even squeezed but just held Tsugumi’s boob with a firm grip. Her other hand slid down Tsugumi’s waist, under her skirt, which made Tsugumi gasp in surprise, and landed on as much of Tsugumi’s bare butt as it could find or make accessible. There as well Moca merely held her, as if to secure her body. The sensations Moca’s touches caused all over her body took over her mind.

It was becoming so much, too much probably, even if it all was good. Tears formed in Tsugumi’s eyes, just from everything going on. They had to stop or Moca would notice the tears and think she’d hurt Tsugumi. As unsubtly as possible, because Tsugumi couldn’t move subtly right now, Tsugumi laid her head on Moca’s shoulder. Seeing the little red mark she’d left on Moca’s neck, she gave it a lick. Moca let go of Tsugumi’s boob and instead held her head in place, which Tsugumi understood as an invitation to kiss Moca more, so of course she did. Panting, Moca squirmed under her until something warm and strangely hard pushed up against Tsugumi’s panties. Moca’s… W-wait!!  

Tsugumi jumped back out of reflex, so uncontrolled she only half made it back to her seat and almost hit her back against the desk. “U-umm, Moca, I, I think that’s… a little too fast and… and we’re just… umm…!!”

Moca covered her crotch. Her crestfallen frown stung Tsugumi’s heart. “N-no, no, Tsugu, that’s… I didn’t mean…” Moca swore under her breath. And she never outright swore in front of Tsugumi.

“O-oh… O-of course! Y-yeah! It’s a natural reaction!”

“Y-yeah…!”

As Tsugumi climbed onto her seat, she noticed something else. She rubbed her thighs together. Yeah, no doubt, a wet stain on her panties. She adjusted them, again not subtly. “U-um… m-me too….”

“We must be naturals… haha….”

Tsugumi couldn’t laugh. They were best friends, and just today they had found out about each other’s feelings and kissed so much and… Sure, a moment ago Tsugumi had been shocked, but… what if… What if she hadn’t stopped? She almost wished she hadn’t. And it wasn’t too late yet. Tsugumi didn’t even know what… how… exactly this was supposed to go, but right now what she wanted, desired even, was to take off Moca’s skirt and… touch Moca and….

This wasn’t okay. She couldn’t, not on the same day. Not even the same week! Or month! That wasn’t how you were supposed to do that. At school, no less! The student council office! Where everyone worked so hard for the sake of the school! And they almost…!

This time the tears formed quicker.

“Tsugu?!” Moca, with her mouth hanging open like she didn’t know what to say, looked so hurt it made the drops heavier.

“M-Moca… I, I’m sorry, I… W-we’re not even going out o-officially, but I… I want to… keep going…. I’m so….”

“Tsugu. We’re not going further than this today, okay? Promise. Pinkie swear. But I also… I want to do it. With you. That’s not strange. Or bad. Not even a little. Like, of course we’d want to do that. Even if we’re not gonna.” She sounded so certain again. Moca embraced Tsugumi and planted the softest kiss of the day on her cheek. “It’s fine. Even if we did it now, it would be fine. We’d need protection, yeah, and doing it at school is kind of punk, but you’re not bad for wanting it. And I’m incredibly flattered, just so you know.”

“Th-thanks… Moca… I really… You’re really important to me.”

“Same here, Tsugu.” Her head on Moca’s shoulder, Tsugumi found her calm again. For a moment they both disappeared into the hug. Tsugumi wished they had more time. She sighed. Tsugumi really did love Moca. “Oh.” Moca pulled back. “How late is it…?”

“OH NO!!!” Tsugumi checked her phone. They should have left eight minutes ago. They were gonna be so late! But if they hurried… maybe…but they’d had to leave right away.

“Ah, text from Tomochin. ‘Got held up at work, practice half an hour later.’” Tsugumi had the same message on her phone. They both breathed so much relief. But it said they’d received it five minutes ago and neither of them had noticed…. “Work’s a pain for them too, huh. Guess we still have some time.” Moca grinned with mischief. “Tsugu~ have you had enough of Moca’s lips for today~?”

“U-um, no, but… I’m not sure I could face the others… well, even now.”

“Good point. Especially if we hold hands on the way.” The silliest smile crept up on Tsugumi’s face. “Tsugu, we are going out now, got it?”

“Y-yeah!!”

“And technically, we’ve known each other for like ten years, so we weren’t moving that fast.”

Tsugumi giggled. “That’s true.”

“Wait, I don’t think we should count when you were still trying to feed me mud cakes.”

Good times. “Sorry… So from elementary school on?”

“Nah, that’s still kinda weird. We were so young back then. Let’s say from when you got hot.”

“H-hot…? When was that…”

“That’s a secret.”

“Moca, you bully….”

“That’s okay, she may be a bully, but Moca treats her girlfriend right.”

Despite everything they’d done today, Tsugumi’s head felt like it was on fire, from this. Moca’s girlfriend. “Th-thank you, m-me too….”

Moca kissed Tsugumi’s cheek. “I’m a lucky girl.”

Tsugumi’s sneakily grabbed Moca’s hand. “A-and now that we have more time… could you hold me really tight again? J-just holding!”

“Correction, I’m the luckiest girl.”

“And that one time I really messed up at practice and I told everyone it was because you were making faces… A-Actually, you were looking at me for a second and I saw your profile in this light and I… I thought you were… kinda… hot….” Tsugumi squeezed Moca’s hand as they walked across the street.

“It’s fine, we all know I’m a knockout, Tsugu~”

“Thanks for playing along….”

“Well, I don’t know if they bought it.”

“E-eh? …But that reminds me… should we keep it a secret from the others?”

“No,” Moca said like there was not question at all.

“Oh.”

“It’d be a pain to hide and we couldn’t flirt in front of everyone. Also, we got that childhood friend bonus with them.”

“That’s true. But I’m not sure about flirting….”

Tsugumi and Moca almost literally bumped into Ran in front of the studio. She looked them up and down with surprising curiosity.

“I’m guessing it went well?”

“A-ah, y-yes?” Tsugumi uttered. Moca simply nodded smugly. Was Ran in on this? Had they planned this together or was it just that obvious? Not that Tsugumi would ask. She had the feeling this could turn out embarrassing for at least one third of the girls here.

Ran’s eyes had a gentle light to them. “Good. I’m happy for you, Tsugu.”

“Thanks!”

“Hey, what about me!” Moca pouted dramatically.

Ran smirked at her. “Fair, you did end up with the nicer girl.”

“Ran, I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

“Just so you know, if you ever get in a fight I’ll take Tsugu’s side, 100%.”

Moca scoffed. “I was having such a good day, Ran~”

Ran smiled at Tsugumi. “Moca’s kind of a dumbass –”

“Rude?”

“– but she’s a good friend. Take care of her, will you?”

“Of course!” Kind of a strange thing to say considering the three of them were best friends, but it probably counted as Ran’s blessing.

“Oh, and did Moca tell you how many nights she kept me up to talk about how she’s got the hots for you.”

Tsugumi almost dropped her bag. “E-eh??”

“Ran, dissing me in front of my girlfriend? That’s so low!”

“I’m not dissing you, it’s kinda cute, even if I’d rather slept.”

The three of them paused to let the big word sink in. Girlfriend.

Moca and Tsugumi were totally girlfriends now.

[wtfy-cyzj]

*SPOILERS* CYZJ Subbed Ep. 9 reaction

Episode 9 is finally out with subs, so you know what that means: another play-by-play reaction text post! And it’s another 2-hour episode, so we’re back to the super long format.

As with previous installments, each major section of the show has a header so you can scroll if you’re looking for something specific. And, of course, spoilers and foul language kinda come with the territory.

Mission reveal and song assignments

Another two performance mission assignment – picking the third finalist pair and then establishing a ranking for the finalists – because they just gotta be ranked going into the finals *rolls eyes* - I could rant about how much I wish the producers would stop pushing the competitive aspect of the show while talking about it being about “breakthroughs”

Hao’s little goddamnit-esque laugh when the 1v1 mission is announced  :/

Anybody else get the feeling Victor’s the reason Eric & JC are worried about the other team picking their song? Like Hao might give them something out of left field because he wants them to show a new side or because he thinks it suits them, but not to torpedo them – Victor, however, seems a bit of a wild card

…! I seriously thought Eric had the card down the front of his pants for a moment there!

Aw, Hao’s smile is so sweet – I already knew Eric/JC got to do one of Eric’s songs – that little “you’re welcome” bow & Victor being totally checked out makes me think that was all Hao’s doing

So, yes & no – I expected Victor to at least playfully push to mess w/ the other team – he seems kinda disengaged though

Wait, is that Hao’s handwriting?! I was admiring it when Eric first revealed the card – I know people who only know English who don’t write that nicely – kid’s definitely an artist

“How can I not be satisfied with my own song?”  XD

Aw, that was really sweet of Victor to say he hopes they don’t mess w/ the song too much

I love that when Victor asks “by who” Eric & Xiao Wu both go “Drake” w/ a very soft “duh, who the fuck else” feel – and then Hao gets stoked when they start singing it

Yes! I’m so glad Jiacheng said that about Hao & Victor’s performances not being them together! I thought it about the last 2 performances, but since I didn’t really see anyone else talk about it, I wondered if it was just me. Plus there’s the whole cultural disconnect & not being part of the target demographic that added to it. It’s good to see someone who’s in the thick of it with them recognize that same thing

I want to talk about the warm fuzzy feelings I get from Eric & Jiacheng being so thoughtful about their choice and how this reinforces my desire for the show to stop leaning into the competition narrative, but Eric mimicking both Hao & Victor is too cute

I love that Jiacheng doesn’t know how to process Eric’s goofiness for a second – same Xiao Wu, same

Aw, the doodles!

Hao’s “don’t say anything” is great! – take a stand & make Victor dance!

“Okay fine, alright, I’ll dance. I’ll dance” – damn straight!

Second mission reveal

“Sprint Out” Attack? And that means…?

Meh… Another drawn out process to pick a collaborator? - it was cute w/ the ladies but since I haven’t seen anyone talking about the guests and the tease at the beginning of the episode was blah, I’m not really looking forward to it

Trying to ignore the elevator talk and not roll my eyes too hard

Meeting the musicians

Oh dear god, Yanan is so fucking cute watching Liron Man play! – tell me someone’s giffed that doofy expression and weird little wiggle! *heart eyes*

Ooh, Liron Man’s got a great smile – has nothing to do w/ anything but I couldn’t leave it unremarked upon

“The sound produced is very cute […] like a tortoise who lost its soul” – say what now, Yanan?! – that does not seem like a “cute” sound, sir!

Once again, being thoughtful and aware of the other contestants – brownie points to Jun

I’m so glad dude knows some Chinese! We don’t need another person stranded behind the language barrier even if it’s just one episode

Apparently, I love the pipa and didn’t even know what it was – now that I have a name, research will be done!

“My mother’s profession is also in the pipa” – poor girl stepped in it!  XD

Here I was thinking they reacted much better than with the previous lady guests, but no, still shy as fuck

I realize that as an apparently internationally-recognized musician, Wangtao probably plays the clarinet in ways that I never could imagine – unfortunately I took band from 7th through 9th grades, including marching band, so I cringed when I saw what he plays – and I immediately had to go look up this Eddie Izzard bit because my brain wouldn’t stop going “clahr-en-ahrt” and “WEzul WEzul” until I did

Watching Jun & Yanan discuss their options is a really interesting look into their personalities – “are we choosing calm or movement?”

“You decide” – brave words, Jun – I wonder where this fell on the timeline of Yanan deciding to leave the show

It’s not going to be a famous Western artist, Samuel – it’s never going to be a famous Western artist – sorry to burst your bubble, kiddo

Bahahaha! For all Zhennan’s “leave us a good one” in the elevator, Jun & Yanan picked the most obvious choice for the kiddies – …yes, I know I’m an asshole for finding that so funny

…Does Zhennan’s shirt say “same shit different day”?!

They completely lost that whole “working w/ musicians will be hard” thing real quick

“I feel like I tortured little kids”  XD

Someone’s setting himself up for a headache confusing jazz with jazzy, especially when picking a classically trained accompanist

It’s really cute seeing Eric & Xiao Wu being a little awkward with the pipa player after they seemed to calm with the previous female guests – they both barely look at her

I love arrogant!Eric, especially when he’s immediately replaced by embarrassed!Eric – I am, however, more than a little creeped out by the cartoon bull being blown around by, what, an umbilical cord?!

Aw, Jiacheng immediately defends his “arrogance” *heart eyes*

Wait, did Xiao Wu’s lyrics sound bad? Eric said it could “be a little better” so maybe the phrasing was awkward, but the translation of “lately, I’ve been scared of sleeping alone” grabbed my attention and made me wonder what prompted those words

They’re dorks and I love them

Poor Hao being left to talk to their musician alone

…! I totally blanked that this could be Minghao’s first chance to really do a traditional Chinese sound – aw, yay!

Hmm, Victor really agreed to do purely traditional? I guess “purely Chinese” doesn’t have to mean traditional instead of modern

And then we flash back and I stand corrected!

Performance day

Wait, they’re not gonna show how they chose the performance order between MH/Victor and Eric/JC?! I feel so cheated! thank god

Minghao & Victor are up first – 1v1

“I’m always ready!” *heart eyes*

Hao accidentally proposed confessing to the other contestants  XD – just because you think something is meaningless doesn’t mean it really is!

What’s cuter: Hao’s reaction when he realized putting in the other contestants’ names wasn’t the best idea or Hao’s reaction to the thought of name-dropping exes?

I love MH’s logic! Victor’s trying to downplay any romantic intention behind calling out a female artist by saying it’s about respect & admiration, so Hao throws out Jony J & Gong Ge - if it’s about respect & admiration he’s not wrong, but Victor’s face says otherwise – I laughed so hard I had to stop the video and go calm down by doing a load of laundry

I’ve gotta say, as someone who liked both JJ & GG from the beginning & still really likes them and as someone who started watching specifically for Minghao, I love that he brought them up again and in such a positive light. Fans can – and do­ – hate on them, but he’s got every right to continue to look up to them. He’s the one who was directly affected by their actions, yet he continues to admire them and voice that admiration. I don’t get how people try to drag them on his behalf when he says things like this.

Aw, it breaks my heart a little that Victor thinks making the song about the show is “limiting” their creativity – Hao’s had a lot of fun and had made connections on the show that he obviously values – how is making an ode to that a limitation?

I love when Hao speaks in English – it always surprises me how rich & deep his voice is – like I usually chalk it up to being an artifact of the language, but it’s genuinely appealing – does that make sense? Just me?

Am I the only one who thinks changing the names to their own makes it about self-doubt, not narcissism?

Victor’s so American!

I feel like Victor having to dance is a little bit of karma for being a pain in the ass  >:D

That little intro clip is adorable!

Aw, Victor did MH’s 8 hand sign!

Overall thoughts: I loved that! It wasn’t perfect, but I think, after Clap, it was Hao’s best performance by far. He definitely had fun and loosened up with Supernatural in ep.8, but this was a whole other level and I think a lot of it was from actually playing w/ Victor during the performance. I love that they switched it up and Victor had the vocal parts; he’s a talented singer so it was nice seeing him step out of the rapper role. And I was really impressed with Hao’s English. A lot of times, non-English-speakers do odd things with their emphasis on words, but he was pretty damn spot on. It makes me wonder just how fluent he actually is since we don’t see him speak it much beyond simple phrases. The one thing I wasn’t entirely feeling was Victor’s rap. It felt a little rushed? Cramped? It’s understandable since he’s working within a pre-existing song, but it did stick out to me. I don’t know why Victor was worried about dancing. That bit was less choreography and more conscious swagger, if that makes sense, and he pulled it off swimmingly. I wish they hadn’t cut to the audience during Hao’s dance break because it was my favorite one he’s done so far – less artistry and more simple fun. Can we take a moment to thank Eric & Jiacheng for making this gem happen?

“And we were constantly laughing at Victor’s attempt at dancing” – Eric! I’m glad he finally has someone else’s dancing to pick on but also smh

Eric & Jiacheng’s 1v1 prep and performance

Aw, Jiacheng gushing about the comradery on the show and wanting to help each other show their best sides  XD

The idea of them singing acapella is actually really cool – if anyone on the show could pull it off really well, it’s these two

I love that Xiao Wu seems to throw out more English the longer he’s w/ Eric – he’s gaining experience and confidence in other areas – why not English, too?

Back to Eric’s crush on Dilireba  XD

Aw, JC says they got close – of course they’re (probably) going to in a situation like this, but it’s cute that he’s talking about it – I know I’ve said it before, but I love that he’s so open with talking about stuff like that

Xiao Wu really looks like he’s about to cry reading those comments – and then Eric ruins the moment telling him not to cry

I already saw @bathtubofdonuts​’s post talking about them incorporating the fan comments in the stage but seeing them get to that point is so sweet

Wait, so why is it important to tell us the screenwriter lady is in the audience? Was it the OST for her drama?

Aw, Hao’s so touched already

I was starting to worry the editing was going to lose the comments to those close-ups

It’s not weird to comment on how pretty Jiacheng’s hands are, right?

Wah! JC’s teary-eyed!! I was already tearing up – don’t make me cry!

Ah, okay, so she helped Eric write the song

Overall thoughts: I was sniffly & teary, but I managed not to cry. That was beautiful. This is why I was worried when they were talking about making a more impressive set design in ep. 8. They do simple so, so well, and they really don’t need a bunch of extras. Just having that one element of the comments playing behind them was so gorgeous and impactful. I’m really glad that they didn’t have accompanists on stage with them because they’d just be a visual distraction. I know I’ve talked about it in previous reactions, but the combination of their voices is incredible. I doubt Eric has ever sung a sour note in his life, and I wish Jiacheng knew how gorgeous his voice really is. His little power vocal moment toward the end? Ugh! So good! I’m gonna keep saying how happy I am that they got to work together because of this show.

“I feel that this bundle here is trembling” – I’m going to be so sad not to see this sweet kid after the show ends! TnT

1v1 performance results

Nooo! I know what’s about to happen – I’m not ready for the angst!

Poor Jun looking so nervous over there w/o Yanan

I hate this fucking setup so much. I’ve said that I think the way Jony J left the show was probably at least partially prompted by the production staff. Knowing that Jun was given options after Yanan left and that, for all his extraness, Jun is super shy, I have a hard time believing the production staff didn’t go, “So you don’t want to be in the running anymore and ~play by the rules~? Okay, so how about we make it look like there’s gonna be an elimination then you come out and dramatically withdraw? Wouldn’t that be awesome!” Jun’s never been my favorite because his playfulness can come of really childish to me, but I highly doubt he would put Minghao this scenario again for funsies.

Having seen translations of this weeks ago when the episode aired, I was not prepared to tear up. It hurts to see Hao so freaked out again and try to pull Jun back bodily. And seeing the distress on Jiacheng’s face as he says “no!” at him, my breath caught in my throat. Ugh! I’m seriously starting to cry watching JC panic more as Jun compliments them all. X(

Oh god that whole bit after the interview section was… weird. It’s pretty obvious the way Eric & Jiacheng are smiling in the background that things were cleared up. But that audience reaction… It’s so cold? This weird sort of idea that idols “betray” their fans is something I’ll never understand in kpop. (This is taking into account all the chaos that happened because of Jun’s decision, not just what made the edit.) Disappointment I get, but there’s no compassion for the grace he displayed in a shitty situation or relief that he’s going to continue performing. This whole situation was made so much worse being in front of a live audience.

The interviews after Jun’s reveal are so sweet, but why does it feel like a memorial? It’s just shy of saying “in loving memory of Wen Junhui”

Top 3 ranking performances

I love when the show has to blur someone’s phone because it’s not the sponsor phone – it’s usually Samuel, but this time Eric’s the culprit

And there’s the performance order ceremony

Minghao, Victor & Lian Pieru (pipa) are up first

Interesting thoughts about the Mechanical Era – it seems like Peiru’s a good match for Hao

So the interview thing is the only lead up we get? I don’t want to episode to be 3 hours, but they’ve got such an interesting story they want to tell and Peiru seems like such a character, I was really looking forward to the preparations – now I do actually feel a little cheated

Overall thoughts: I may have actually liked this performance better than In My Feelings. It wasn’t as entertaining, but it was a cool concept that was executed really well. I’ve gotta say before I go on though, I’ve seen people complain about the editing of other performances, but this is the first one that’s been distracting to me throughout.  :/  If I didn’t know before going in that Victor was supposed to be the narrator, I don’t think I would’ve gotten that. The harsh stage whisper sort of effect in the beginning comes off kind of judgmental and, well, harsh where I was expecting more of an impartial observer style narrator. I wish his character had either done less interacting (to be an observer) or done more (to show his investment in the storyline and justify the judginess). It was a nice change of pace to see him being subdued while Hao was the higher energy partner. Hao’s rap in both performances this episode was great. They felt more natural and less stylized, which I really dig. He also showed his vocals more here than I think he really has in a while. At least it was more impactful than past performance. I would love to see a purely vocal song from him – no rap, light choreo – because he does really interesting things with his voice and we don’t get enough of it. [I just got a flash of him singing w/ Susu O.O] The choreo was impressive even if the edit made it hard to get the full effect. The end was great with the angry faces and the final little trill of the pipa.

It weirdly warms my heart to see them acknowledge they’ve been kind of at odds in their partnership up til now

Eric, Jiacheng & Lian Peiru (pipa) perform second

Uh, does Jiacheng’s overcoat have Donald Duck smack in the middle of a traditional tapestry?!

Not gonna gush about the VCR, but these two are so damn cute

We don’t even get an interview lead-in for them?!  >.<

Ooh, pop-style pipa is really cool…

Somebody put Xiao Wu in a musical please - even my theatre-hating ass would pay to see that

Aw, Liron Man reacting to them  uwu

Overall thoughts: I really enjoyed that. It was soft and sweet, and of course their voices are amazing. The set design was really pretty with all the florals. For some reason, thought, for most of the song Eric seemed strangely pulled back? Maybe it was because Xiao Wu was still on a high from the previous performance and the pipa is so distinct, but his parts just got overpowered to my ear. It was still beautiful.

Huh, Samuel really hasn’t gotten much screentime in this episode, even for reactions

Zhennan, Samuel & Wangtao (clarinet) are up third

Maybe it’s because he’s a good bit older, but I really appreciate the way Wangtao talks about Zhennan here – at least I assume he’s referring to Zhennan since Samuel seems pretty cool with being a kid – it doesn’t soften me to him, but it’s a needed reminder that his bravado may be more façade than arrogance – still find it annoying though *shrug*

Anyone else have to look up what an elaphure is? – it’s a Père David’s deer

Excuse me, mister clarinet man, don’t make me start thinking clarinets are sexy – I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that I’m probably gonna look up your music but that’s just taking it too far!

Overall thoughts: For anyone who thinks I’m just going to shit all over this because it’s Zhennan and Samuel, you’re wrong. I actually kind of dug that. It’s not really my bag, but I don’t dislike it at all. First off, the stage design is impressive with that cube setup. It’s really interesting having Wangtao on top of it (but also, get off the tall thing!). I would love to see a fixed cam of the performance to get the full effect. I really liked Zhennan’s solo in ep. 2, so seeing him go back to that sleepy, almost lazy delivery style is really nice. I’ve complained about him leaning too hard into his imagery (or did I cut that bit because I was being an ass?), but it was used beautifully here. Samuel really impressed me. His rap style still sounds a little like he’s trying to be someone else, but it didn’t sound awkward this time. It’ll be really interesting to see where his style goes as he comes into his own. And these are his best lyrics yet. Yes, I snorted at the LeBron reference in the otherwise whimsical song, but I really liked the honestly and depth. The dance break was beautiful and a nice escape from the more stock mainstream choreo Samuel’s been showing us. He does hip hop well, but I’m glad he gave us something more contemporary here and showed off his range. If I have a complaint it’s that Samuel’s voice gets lost in the “I don’t want” bits. I wish they’d at least brought him forward so you hear him more, or better yet, given him something a little more ornate to weave around Zhennan’s more drudging sound. His little vocalization before ZN’s final part was a pleasant surprise, and I would’ve liked more of that. They’ve made the best use of the accompanist so far, too. The whole thing was lovely and haunting and understated. Of all their stages, I think this performance has been the most effective in delivering the message they wanted to get across.

Jun & Liron Man (handpans) are up last

Why are the lead-ups getting shorter?! We’re going straight into the performance with no interview or VCR. I get that he’s not eligible for votes anymore, but I still want to see something, man

Total Pure Moods vibes here – fun fact: I wanted that CD so badly that both of my (divorced) parents got it for me for Christmas that year – I was a weird kid

Aw, is he singing along with Jun?! So cute! *heart eyes*

…off the tall thing, please…

Overall thoughts: If you’d told me before this that I would eagerly watch a Jun solo three times in a row, I would’ve laughed in your face. His style just isn’t for me usually. And yet, I watched this three times in a row (I zoned out and just listened to first time, watched the second, and read the lyrics the third). Thank you, Yanan, for picking the handpan. I never would’ve thought the distorted ring of a handpan would complement Jun’s very unique vocal quality as well as it does. This is the most at ease we’ve seen Jun on the show, and I don’t mean relaxed or confident. It didn’t seem at all like he was performing or was “on” but like he was singing for the sheer personal pleasure of it. After his stress in previous episodes, it was so good to see. As for the song itself, I have no fucking clue how to describe it. It reminded me of the weirdest things without really sounding like any of them. I mentioned Pure Moods, but also The Little Mermaid and “What Is Love” – as in the song from A Night at the Roxbury (listen to it, young’uns, and be confused). There were others, but I’ve blanked because that last one was a little too wtf.

“He was definitely enjoying it, really” – you know it’s true when the guest is saying it

Wait, no contestant reactions even?! Why are we getting robbed of the good stuff in this episode, goddamnit!?

Points reveal for the finals

This is for the ranking going into the finale – plus starting points which seems weirdly unnecessary?

Hao & Victor got 66 votes – why so low?

Xiao Wu & Eric got 73 – better but still really low considering the stages & past scores

Zhennan & Samuel got 72 – why so low?!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad my boys are leading, but they all gave incredibly good, polished stages and those scores really don’t seem to reflect that. I mean, they’ve given out 80s before – are the panelists given criteria or is it purely a matter of preference? – the contestants all look a little disappointed with the scores, too

After show nonsense

“passionate teens Zhou Zhennan and Samuel, gentle warriors Wu Jiacheng and Zhou Xingzhe, mood players Xu Minghao and Ma Boqian” – I don’t know why those labels amuse me so much but they do

I’m glad we get to see Samuel & ZN react to the handpans because they were so cute with the other instruments

Damn, Samuel really is a quick learner

Did he mean to play Eric’s song? He’s definitely got a bit of an artist crush on Eric, but that’s adorable if he was trying to play it. And impressive that he did it well enough on something he just learned how to get a sound from that the others recognized it!

  My personal rankings

MH & Victor

Jun

Eric & Xiao Wu

Zhennan & Samuel

Usually picking my rankings is super easy. My favorite and least favorite have been leagues away from the others, but I really liked everybody this week  :D

And now, another long wait until the subs come out for the finale...

[call-me-za]

Introvert Prompt 32 Entry

This is based on the wolfstar introvert prompt found here ----> @introvert-club

"Sirius is caught passing notes in class, and to their horror, the teacher reads the note aloud to the class."

________________

Sirius always struggled to stay awake in History of Magic. It's not that the syllabus was boring, in fact Sirius found the work rather fascinating, it was Professor Binns completely drear way of presenting the work that put him off. The midday heat paired with the Professor's monotone drawl provided the perfect condition for a nap. Apart from that, Sirius often spent his days fooling around instead of working in class, leaving him with many late nights of catching up. His best mate James, the definition of the term 'mother hen,' had recently been trying to focus on classes. He claimed that it was out of necessity as he didn't want to do badly in exams and then get rejected from the workfield leaving him to die alone and unhappy in some back alley in a dodgy area. In all honesty James had always had spectacular grades. Sirius suspected James's new 'good-student' act was simply to impress his long term crush.

James, being the obnoxious bloke that he was, forced Sirius to behave with him. Thus as Sirius was about to doze off he was hit in the head with a squashed ball of paper. Glaring at James he opened up the crumpled page to read over the terrible handwriting.

"Quit daydreaming about Moony and pay attention! If I have to suffer through the lesson then so do you!!!"

To which Sirius quickly responded, starting a flow of messages to and fro between the boys. Needless to say, James was no longer paying attention.

"As always, your handwriting is absolutely atrocious.

a) Moony was the last thing on my mind thank you very much. I just so happened to be tired because somebody kept me up last night to do a completely unnecessary transfiguration project.

b) Neither of us need be awake at present you git. I don't see why you're dragging me into this, you're cruel James, C. R. U. E. L. "

"Your face is atrocious. Also, who uses the word atrocious?? Forget Padfoot, I ought to be calling you Posh. Are you sure it's me who kept you up last night? Transfiguration didn't take all that long. It had to be somebody else 😉, I'll bet you stayed up last night thinking about Moony. You're Moony over Moony. Hah!"

"You're utterly illogical and impossible to speak to. I can't converse with such. If you insist on pestering me on my furry issue then you can suffer through this class alone."

"Denial at it's finest. "

"I never denied whatever it is that you're on about, I simply haven't confirmed it either. "

"That's not true Posh, your blush 'confirms' enough.  Someone's in luuurvee."

The last note did nothing but further redden Sirius's cheeks. He glanced up at Remus finding relief at the sight of the boy working diligently, completely unaware of Sirius's conversation with James. He then turned around and not so subtly threw James an artful image of his middle finger, directly in the view of Professor Binns. Needless to say, Professor Binns was not impressed. He walked over to assess Sirius's workbook and proceeded to find his note with James. Without hesitation, the man picked it up and read it aloud to the class. He got through Sirius's bit with ease but stumbled when trying to read what James had attempted to write.  The class in general looked confused, not knowing who Moony was, but a few braver classmates snickered in Sirius's way. The issue with this situation was not his classmates' reactions, the issue was that Moony knew who Moony was, and Sirius dreaded what Moony would think.

He dared not look in Remus's direction, his Gryffindor bravery failing him.  It's not just the rejection that troubled Sirius, it was Remus's nature. Remus would be kind enough to not bring the situation up with Sirius, but not as a mercy to Sirius but an avoidance of his own. He never entered a relationship, whether he liked the other person or not. Remus didn't believe that he deserved to be in a romantic relationship. The boy always looked down on himself and often questioned his own will to live. Sirius had helped relieve Remus in regard to his his personal issues, but the help caused Remus an immense amount of guilt. This would add to his guilt, perhaps cause Remus to distance himself from Sirius. Apart from that, Sirius had never been open about his bisexuality. Remus was new turf, and only a select few had knowledge of Sirius's attraction to males. Remus was no simple crush, Sirius couldn't see himself going through life without Remus by his side. It was tantamount to Sirius that he sorted things out with Remus.

Being brash by nature he put his fear aside and approached Remus as soon as the lesson ended, asking to speak to him. Not speak as in their usual banter and playfulness, but proper, vulnerable communication. Remus rarely displayed his feelings, it was no easy task to get him to admit to his emotions. His mouth spewed logic, Remus thought through everything. That's why Remus was the first person Sirius truly connected to when he got to Hogwarts. He immediately clicked with James, and later with Peter too but that was playful and meaningless: fun and wit. With Remus he actually felt understood. Being raised by a Slytherin family Sirius was initially more internally controlled. He held all the Gryffindor traits, but there was lot of Slytherin in the boy too. Remus was one of the rare few that appealed to both halfs of who he was.

Remus was visibly uncomfortable about the subject matter. He stiffened when Sirius requested to speak, and turned to James for a way out. James merely sent the boys a sympathetic smile and turned to leave. Despite all the tension and uncertainty in Remus's stature, Sirius couldn't help but notice the deep blush on the Remus's cheeks. He was certain that it couldn't have been caused by embarrassment alone.

"Look, Moony, it was just James-"

"Is it true?"

"That depends on which part of the note you're referring to."

"Look, I know that James tends to exaggerate, and that I'm probably overreacting, but don't play with me like this. Do you or do you not care for me romantically?" Remus's ears turned scarlet, joining his cheeks. He was trying to be calm, to be logical about things but it was obvious that the the boy was in no good state of mind. He felt frantic. Remus would never enter a relationship with Sirius (or so he thought) but a small piece of him couldn't help but light up at the idea of Sirius caring for him. He wanted Sirius to reply with a rejection, but the thought of the note being false still crushed Remus.

Sirius looked Remus directly in the eyes, almost as of he were challenging him. "It's more than true Remus. I'm in love with you." His Gryffindor side ruled once again, straight to the point, absolutely no tact or forethought.

Remus wanted to be angry, he wanted to act unaffected and sorry. He didn't want to feel the hope that burned in his chest, or intend for his face to further burn up. He didn't want the corners of his lips to raise in a half smile. He wanted to not reciprocate Sirius's feelings. Remus was in shock, and he didn't understand why. Sirius was never subtle about his crushes, he should have picked it up. In his strange mix of emotion, he hugged Sirius firmly. It was only when Sirius relaxed in his grip did Remus realised exactly what he was doing. With a struggling internal sigh he let go of Sirius.

"I'm sorry Padfoot, I'm sorry." With barely a whisper he left Sirius standing blankly in the hallway.

Sirius was distraught. For a minute second he had considered the idea of Remus caring for him back. Caring for him in the same way Sirius cared for Remus. He realised, staring at the empty space where Remus once stood, that he was incorrect. Remus Lupin was far above his league. He was so Stupid! He actually thought that he stood a chance, it was embarrassing.

Sirius rushed to the closest bathroom, locking himself in a stall. He squeezed his eyes closed, rocking back and forth trying his utmost not to cry out loud. He could hear his mother's voice chiding him, "Black boys don't cry. Show some dignity child!"

He didn't consider himself a Black any longer but a large shame still washed over him at his vulnerability. The more he tried to calm himself the more the tears flowed. For months he had been able to keep his feelings away from Remus, even James took a while to figure it out. If only he could have stretched out a little longer.

He felt his prospects crash. The surrounding sounds of school and chatter and taps running began to thrum louder and louder thundering in his skull. On one side of his mind he saw Remus slipping away and in the other his mother taunted him for his brokenness, for thinking that a traitor like him deserved to be loved.

If at that point, anybody had managed to peep into the second stall in the third floor bathroom they would have been met with a dismal sight. A black dog lay crumpled in a whimpering ball. His tears formed part of the dirty puddle he lay in.

[moricatlibrary]

Eren’s Valentine

Eren gets a valentine from his not-at-all-secret admirer, Armin, and struggles to hear out his feelings.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Eremin forever!^^<3333

Valentine's Day was finally here. Armin had been taking deep breaths in and out all day, trying to stay calm, but struggled to defeat his anxiety. Ever since he'd met Eren that day by the vending machines outside last month, he'd been absolutely taken with him, grew completely enraptured by him, and fell totally and irretrievably in love with him... The very vision of his dream guy appeared before him and he was everything Armin ever could've hoped for and yet everything he didn't even realize he wanted. Eren was clumsy, awkward, deceptively grumpy, and off-putting, but so very sweet, so caring, so brave, so strong, so passionate... Armin believed heroes didn't exist, they were only something to dream about in fairy tales and action flicks. But now, he felt like dreams really could come true, because a hero was right there in front of him, shyly rejecting his eager request to watch 21 Jump Street but ultimately proving to be nothing short of amazing.

Armin had struggled to present his feelings, they were too overwhelming for him to really know what to do with them, and finally Marco told him "Why don't you just tell Eren how you feel?"

Armin blushed as he jittered. "Eh?! But I feel like I've already made it so obvious! Maybe I should just accept that his reluctance means he has no interest in me..."

Marco raised an eyebrow over his smirk. "Mmmh... I think you should just try telling him very explicitly. I rather think it's just been going right over his head."

Armin was almost too afraid to hope for that. "You think so? It's possible he's just confused?"

Marco couldn't help the chuckle in his voice, for Armin was too in love to see Eren as the airhead that he certainly believed was. "Yeah. I think so. Try telling him directly. Then see what happens." he told him with a nudge.

Armin went home after that and got to thinking. Valentine's Day was just around the corner, so he decided to make his formal confession in the form of a valentine card, one that really expressed his heart's true desires to the incredible green eyed boy he adored... And he poured all his efforts into several attempts to do so.

Now, it was the 14th. The moment of truth. Armin finished passing out his little store bought valentines to all his friends and was ready to give Eren his when the final class was dismissed. He clutched the big red envelope in his hands as tight as he could without bending or damaging it and just waited by the lockers for Eren to arrive at his... And soon enough, there he was. As tall and as handsome as ever, acting aloof, looking incredibly bored, that same disinterested look in eyes as usual, like they were just waiting for someone to light the wild fire that Armin knew was just lying dormant inside him. Armin beamed and blushed, swallowing the lump of fear in his throat and ran towards him.

"Hey, Eren!..." he called as he unconsciously placed his hand on Eren's arm before quickly retracting it upon realizing that he had.

Eren looked up from his backpack-stuffing at the little blond who'd come to greet him yet again. "Ah. You again."

Armin inhaled once more to soothe his anxiety for Eren's simple response, and began his little presentation. "Um... Eren, I-- I wanted to- give you this." he said as he handed Eren the envelope trembling in his dainty hands.

Eren took it, mindlessly taking note of it's rather big size, and read his name across the front, written in very pretty handwriting.

"It's a valentine I made just for you. I wanted to, um... give you something special. Because you're very special to me. The note explains everything better, but-- I like you, Eren. I like you a lot. Like- like you, like you..." he confessed most ungracefully, as he squeezed the backpack straps resting on his little shoulders. He wished English had more phrases for the types of affection one feels for a person like Japanese did, so he wouldn't have to stumble through his confession like some little kid in a bad sitcom. "I just think you're so great and... I just wanted you to know, if you didn't already. For whatever that's worth."

Eren listened... and nodded. "Alright, well, I'll open this when I get home." he told him nonchalantly with only a small blush crowning his cheeks as he stuffed the envelope into his backpack, on top of the other couple of valentines he'd gotten that day.

Armin jumped in to add "W-Wait! Wait, here, I have 4 more to give you!". He quickly unzipped his backpack to dig out the prototypes he'd deemed less worthy of his hero and handed them to him nervously, noting that Eren's indifferent expression remained unchanged. "I tried really hard to make you one that was as good as you deserve, and that one was the best I could manage, but you should still have these others too..."

Eren took the others from Armin’s shaky hands, a little uncomfortable with this amount of affection. Did this little guy really think he somehow didn’t get the hint that he had a crush on him? "Alright then." he concluded, and nodded again before turning to leave for home, leaving the glassy-eyed boy there alone.

Armin watched as Eren turned the corner and then immediately began bumping his head against the lockers in embarrassment... The honest approach was such a hard one but if he wanted to be Eren's boyfriend, he certainly didn't want to begin their relationship with dishonesty. And he wanted to be with Eren so badly that he couldn't help showing it anyway... And of course Eren was welcome to reject him but still, it hurt to be rejected no matter how one sliced it. He moaned against the cold metal, overcome with the ache in his heart. He really loved him...

--

Eren came home without a word and tossed his backpack by the couch. The house was empty, indicating his mother had probably gone to the store, leaving Eren a quiet evening to himself. He planned to go on about his routine as usual, but he stopped and looked down at his backpack for a short moment. He bent down and unzipped the pocket to pull out the big red envelope Armin handed to him by the lockers. He stared at it briefly, expression still unchanging... and tossed it on the couch cushion before walking on into the kitchen to prepare a snack. With his snack cooking in the oven a few minutes later, he passed by the couch again and glanced at the red envelope still resting there untouched, but continued walking. A few minutes later, he passed by it again on his way back to the kitchen, now in just his comfy plain t-shirt and red boxers, and glanced at the envelope once more as he walked on to retrieve his snack from the oven. After gathering his sustenance, he finally returned to the living room to unwind. With his plate in one hand and the tv remote in the other, he settled down into the couch, legs and feet folded under him comfortably. And he glanced at the envelope again... but ultimately decided to continue ignoring it, and turned on the tv to channel surf for a while. Still though, he couldn't help peering at it every now and then from the corner of his eye.

At around 5 o'clock, Eren stood up with a stretch and vacuumed up his crumbs off the cushion with the DustBuster he kept beside the couch, not because his mother told him to, but because he hated to see himself leave a mess behind. In doing so, however, he knocked the envelope onto the floor. He turned the vacuum off and casually returned it to its place to pick up the envelope and held it in his hands for a long moment. He studied it again, studied the pretty way Armin wrote his name, curious too as to why whatever was in here required such a big envelope. The gears in back of his mind turned in thought about what it might say as he stood there in silence, still with that dull expression, before finally deciding to pick up his backpack and carry himself, and the envelope, upstairs to his room. He tossed the backpack on the bed, set the envelope by his pillow, and hopped onto the mattress, intending to start on his homework before dinner, but still that darn valentine preyed on his focus...

After several minutes of trying to do his algebra assignment, he tapped his pencil mindlessly on the paper, well aware he was no longer thinking of numbers or homework, but rather working kind of hard to not think about Armin's valentine. He looked over at it again, just sitting there with Eren's name face up in the silence of his room. His expression still didn't change, but his eyebrows began to furrow a little bit with curiosity...

Finally, he tossed his math homework aside and picked up the envelope in his big tawny hands. He studied his name again, wondering what it was like to be Armin, having such soft feminine handwriting and wondering too about this envelope and what it could possibly have in store. It took him a moment to realize it, but the envelope actually wasn't store-bought; it was handmade! That was certainly an impressive extra step, he thought. No glue or tape either, it was just fancily-folded red paper. That was... also impressive, he had to admit. And at last, he opened it, and pulled out a big card, and a letter...

Eren looked down at the card itself. It was absolutely beautiful! Armin had constructed it with some very appealing paper covered in a colorful looking red and gold floral pattern and in outlined letters, it read "I love you!". But if that weren't enough, Eren noticed the center of the card seemed to part in a strange way. He pulled it apart which opened it to a new message! "I adore you!", lettered over a blue and white ocean pattern. Eren's eyes widened. That was like magic! And there was yet another part? He pulled at this one too and found another message: "You're amazing!" lettered over a green and gold forest pattern. Eren was now grinning wide and bright for how cool this card was, and grew excited to find yet one more part. He opened it to read "You're my hero!" lettered over a red and gold roaring dragon pattern. Eren happily opened the infinite card over and over, again and again, reading the infinite words with a smile. It was something he never could've imagined getting! He'd never seen anything like this... He then picked up the love letter, handwritten as beautifully as the name on the envelope, on romantic looking ocean themed stationary, and rather nervously began reading...

Dear Eren...

It's been about a month since we've known each other and I wish we'd been closer by now, but... I wanted to give you this valentine anyway. Ever since I met you I've thought you were truly amazing. One of a kind! A hero, a wonder... and yet you're someone as ordinary as a fellow sophomore in the hallways passing by me at a vending machine. It's amazing! I know you don't see it, but I do, plain as day. You're bubbling with passion and fire and strength and I truly believe that you're exactly what this cruel world needs. I never had hope for the future before but after meeting you... I just find myself overflowing with it. You inspire so much in me, and make me feel like things are going to be okay. Thank you so much for that... Forgive me, but, if I may wish just one more thing from you, I hope to be friends with you. It's alright if you don't want that, but you do seem so lonely to me. And I really want to help you cheer up by showing you all the things I can think of that might excite you and make you happy. I want to see you light up and smile! I want to see you feel passion for something fun and hear you laugh. Will you please tell me if there's anything I can do to make that happen? And if there isn't, then I wish you to find it elsewhere because you deserve it. You deserve nothing short of the happiest life you can imagine. Please believe in yourself the way I believe in you.

Love, Armin.

Eren's happy expression had turned to one of desperate confusion... Aching confusion. He quickly pulled Armin’s other valentines out to read the rest of them, (never even minding the ones he’d gotten from some other classmates which fell into the floor). One envelope contained five sheets of pre-creased and folded origami paper, and instructions on how to fold them together into hearts to reveal a message: "I-love-you". Another contained a pretty, but blank card meant for love notes... and a tiny blacklight pen that revealed a secret message written on the card in invisible ink: "I love you, Eren. You're amazing. Be true to yourself. :)". Another contained a folded paper fortune teller with several messages to explore, throughout all the corners; "My Hero!", "You're Amazing!", "My Love!", "My Dream!"; and all the folds, "I love your eyes!", "Will you go to the beach with me sometime?", "You're so intriguing!", "Can we watch the sunset together?", "You're a vision of strength!", "Will you watch a movie with me?", "You are my hope...", "Can we please be friends?". Eren was growing dizzy... This was all becoming overwhelming. Finally he opened the last envelope, and found a simple card inside with a red heart painted on it... and a funny looking coin with a hole in it taped just above it. Armin had drawn an arrow next to it that pointed to the heart, indicating to Eren that he should scratch the paint away and reveal a message: "I love you... Thank you for being my hero. Please be true to yourself. Love, Armin."

Love, Armin. Love, Armin. Love, Armin. Eren felt like he'd read those words a thousand times now!

"God dammit..." he grunted, his eyebrows furrowing and his hands shaking in frustration as he grit his teeth and gripped the last card. "God dammit!" He shut his eyes and tossed the valentines aside in a fit as he fell back into the bed with a rough bounce. "God dammit!... Why?! Why does he think I'm so great?..." he whined, tears pooling in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling...

Eren tried to avoid Armin's company ever since that day they met. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't like Armin, but Armin was so instantly infatuated with him and Eren just couldn't understand it. He'd watched him from afar for a long time, inexplicably intrigued by him, and he only meant to finally ask why he lets people bully him, but wound up becoming some sort of hero just for punching someone who deserved it. And now Armin was calling him the greatest thing in the world, when Eren couldn't feel farther from such an honor. Armin was smart, wasn't he? He should know better than to indulge in nonsense like love at first sight. Let alone the idea that Eren was some kind of a hero. What the hell could he possibly see to make him think Eren was anything but an average ordinary empty headed brat? Maybe his glasses were just fucked up. To be that pretty little blond guy's hero... it was too much to hope for. None of those things Armin said made any sense to Eren. How could he like him so much? How could he see him in such a wondrous light? How could he see any of these things in him that Eren himself just couldn't?

Eren rose up from the bed and stood up to walk over and look at himself in the mirror on his dresser. He looked at his empty distressed face. His eyes were lightless and he had wrinkles by his mouth from constantly frowning. His arms weren't very muscular and his haircut was plain. He felt like he looked so dull. Just a domestic, bored high school student with nothing but anger to give. Being that hopeful boy's hero... Yes, it was too much. Eren couldn't bear to dare believing in it. He had to prepare his rejection to him tomorrow, to just end this mess already, once and for all...

--

Armin held himself as he stood by the lockers the next morning, waiting patiently for Eren to arrive. This was it. He'd either be rejected or accepted and either way he'd have to move forward after this. He buried his face in his hands. Why did crushing on Eren hurt so much and yet feel so wonderful at the same time? Suddenly, he heard soft-shoed foot steps approaching and turned to see that Eren had arrived. It would all begin or end here... "Ah... Good morning, Eren..."

Eren only stared in silence, looking upset, his expression somewhere between sick and annoyed. And Armin noticed him clutching the letter from his valentine in a fist.

Armin gripped at his sleeves anticipating what was to come... but ultimately found himself unable to bear the awkward, intimidating silence any longer. "Eren, I'm sorry for coming on so strong, I'll accept any answer you give me, even if it's just you walking away... I can take it." he pleaded meekly, his glassy eyes seeming like they were going to shatter with heartbreak from behind his annoying spectacles. "So... What is it?"

Eren looked down at him, a frown on his lips and his fuzzy eyebrows furrowed. He'd planned his little speech before he came here. Dude, you are hopelessly lost. Why would you make someone you barely know 5 elaborate valentines professing your love to them? And where do you get off making all these assertions about me? Why do you think you saw something in me in 2 seconds that I wouldn't have seen in 15 years? What is it you even think you see? I’m not your goddamn hero!!! Why can't you just look at the facts and move on?! How can you see me as one?!!

Armin stared, wet eyes shining from the tears building up in them, still waiting for his rejection.

But Eren remained silent. His speech flowed through his head again and again, and yet the words wouldn't come out. His heart was aching... And the ache worsened the more he thought about it. He had every intention of rejecting this blue eyed boy and yet he couldn't even begin. Why was that?...

Eren watched as Armin swallowed a lump in his throat, looking like his final faint but precious glimmer of hope for love was about to be extinguished. And in that moment Eren realized... he didn't want to reject him. His fist relaxed, dropping the love note to the ground, and the angry speech in his head disappeared completely. His expression softened and his voice fell so gently on Armin's ears. "I'm sorry... I don't know how to respond to your valentines." he began, unsurprised to find that these were the true, honest words he’d really wanted to say all along. "They're too much for me. I don't have the words to respond to them to return the favor. I can't even begin to tell you how I feel. I'm so sorry. But for now, I guess what I can give you... is this."

The next thing Armin knew, a pair of plush, warm lips were pressing against his. His big eyes widened, his brain tried to process what was happening but for once, it couldn't think. A second passed. Maybe two? And Eren was still there, still kissing him, seemingly not intending to leave anytime soon. It wasn’t a dream then. This was really happening! Somehow, some way, the amazing Eren Yeager was kissing him. Armin finally closed his eyes to indulge in this gift of a moment and gingerly slipped his trembling hands over Eren's back while those soft lips continued to explore his.

Eren was so clumsy at kissing him. His mouth would open too wide, his teeth knocked on Armin's, spit brushed over the corners of their mouths and their lips, and he wasn't sure what to do with his tongue.

And yet, bad kiss or not, Armin cherished every second. His heart beat so hard and so fast, he worried he may pass out before too long, (in which case, he would only hope that Eren would catch him.)

Eren grew light headed, and only when he felt like he may be sick if he kept indulging in these suddenly overwhelming emotions did he finally pull away from the lingering boy's lips that hung onto his for as long as they could. And he marveled at the look on the blushing blond's face that he'd left behind. He looked so airy and light, so ethereal and beautiful... And when the courageous dizzy boy opened his blue eyes again to look into Eren’s, Eren felt like an arrow had shot right through his heart. Those glowing oceanic eyes put the stars to shame and every diamond too. Eren couldn't help reaching out and removing his glasses to look at them full view... It was the most inspiring sight he had ever seen. And then, Eren he did something he'd never really done before: put on a big, wide, dazzling smile, the kind romantic heroes would envy, and the one from Armin's dreams... just for him. A presentation never before seen by anyone was now exclusively Armin’s to love. 

And at last, the bell rang.

Eren sighed, but his lips still curled up in a smile. He had a lot to look forward to, after all. He glanced down and picked up the love letter that he'd dropped, planning to hold onto it forever now. He then tapped lightly up against Armin's chin, treasuring the way the little blond kept leaning in like he wanted to be closer. "See you after class." he purred.

Armin's voice cracked as he finally managed a response. "Ye-ahh..."

Eren turned to leave but stopped short, quickly turning back to tell Armin before he forgot, "Thank you for all the valentines! They were perfect..."

Armin blushed again. He'd stayed up all night preparing those valentines, working so hard to keep them interactive and enticing for Eren, finally deciding that an infinite card that would tell him his feelings forever would be the best choice. It was such a labor of love for which he expected nothing in return, not even real appreciation. And yet... "You're welcome." he told him with a humble smile.

Eren simpered and held his hand up to wave goodbye before finally leaving for class. As he sat at his desk, he found himself high on the greatest feeling he'd ever felt. He was looking forward to something. To Armin. Looking forward to what wonders Armin might have to show him, to what sorts of things they could share in, and maybe he’d even discover what it was Armin seemingly saw in him. If it was good enough to warrant that much love, then maybe there was something in him after all. His heartbeat pounded at such a funny rhythm that made him smile to himself in his seat. What a feeling... He had a lot to look forward to indeed. And this was a feeling he could not wait to pursue.

[tragicbeauty1991]

For that heckin long OC ask meme - J. Hook: A) 7, 17, 24; D) 3 (explore this one as deeply as you so desire..), 4; F) 2; G) 6; L) 2

Whoo boy, I took forever to answer this Sorry! *cracks knuckles* Okay, here we go!

A7: Is your character confident in their reactions to life in general, or do they get embarrassed or easily shamed for it? I.e., if something startles them, do they insist it WAS scary? When they cry, do they feel like they overreacted?

Generally speaking, Hook is pretty confident in his day to day life–perhaps a bit overconfident even. However, when it comes to his interactions with the crocodile or any other display of what he would consider a moment of weakness (fear, sadness, love, or any softer emotion), rather than trying to validate his behavior, he prefers to just avoid acknowledging that anything ever happened. He has a sort of mental box he puts such feelings in and locks them all away. Then it’s like someone flipped a switch and he’s back to his usual authoritative self. And because of who he is and how dangerous he can be when he’s angry, no one ever brings these incidents up.

A17: What’s one of your character’s proudest moments of themselves?

The day he first became captain of his own ship probably ranks among his proudest moments from the earlier part of his life. Prior to living a life of piracy, he was a captain in the Royal Navy. The fact that he both earned his title in the navy and maintained it through popular vote after going rogue is a point of great pride for him, and despite the fact that he eventually came to hate the navy and the king for writing his legitimate privateering efforts off as piracy, he still remembers the day he was first named captain and given his own ship fondly.

However, I think the absolute proudest moment of my version of the character’s life is probably the moment he first held his daughter. Being a father was not something he ever really wanted, but once he had a child of his own, he found that he became fiercely protective of her and incredibly devoted. I don’t think he ever dreamed of being able to love someone so much until the day she was born.

A24: What are some of your character’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Oh, boy…there are so many ways that I could answer this one. Hook has…issues…. Lots of issues.

Emotionally, his biggest obstacle is that he shuts himself off from almost everyone, and while he is aware of it, he doesn’t care to change it for a very long time. It’s a sort of safety mechanism for him–don’t get too close to anyone or show them too much of yourself and they can’t hurt you. But then, of course, such isolation also leads to incredible loneliness. It’s kind of a catch-22, but he’d rather feel lonely than be rejected or feel the pain of loss again. Eventually, he grows a lot in this area, but it takes an experience with the crocodile, leaving Neverland, and starting a new life and a new family before he finally starts to change his ways.

Physically, he has already overcome his greatest obstacle–learning to use his non-dominant hand for writing, drawing, fighting, etc. and getting used to the hook. The process was V E R Y slow, but he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. It took weeks just for him to heal enough to feel like trying to write, months before his handwriting actually looked acceptable, and even longer before he could draw and learn to play his harpsichord and piano. Learning to fight again didn’t take quite as long since Peter grew impatient and forced him into “practicing” before he was really physically up for it. His choice was to fight or die, so he learned how to fight very quickly.

D3: How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Ha. Ha. Hahaha. Um, NOT AT ALL. At least, not prior to or during his time in Neverland. As a child, Hook spent his life surrounded by death but never quite touched by it. Growing up, he heard whispers of a brother who disappeared as an infant and was presumed dead. Later, his father was lost at sea, and his mother slowly faded away with an illness so that before he entered his teenage years, he was an orphan. He himself was a rather sickly child, though he never had any real brushes with death after his second birthday. Later in life, he lost a wife and child. And of course, as a pirate, he saw many deaths and was often responsible for them. One would think that after so much exposure to death, he would have been more comfortable with it, but instead, it sort of traumatized him. Seeing so many dead-eyed expressions often made him wonder what it was those dead eyes saw, if anything at all. The fear of not knowing troubled him greatly, and he was never quite sure whether simply fading from existence and entering a state of nothingness or the tortures that might await him in hell frightened him more. His religious experiences earlier in life were somewhat artificial and left his (at that time very practical, scientific) young mind wanting.

Yet after a very near-death experience with the crocodile in Neverland and having a more genuine experience with the church (through his relationship with his new family), he eventually comes to be at peace with the idea and is ready to accept death when it does finally come.

D4: Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

See, this one is tricky because he is KIND OF immortal in Neverland (at least from dying of old age) but not really since he can still technically be killed. And while death frightened him for a large part of his life, I don’t think he would actually have chosen to be immortal…partly because there were times when he definitely found death more appealing than life and partly because even when he wasn’t sure he believed in an afterlife, a small part of him held onto hope that he would be reunited with lost loved ones after death. If anything, I’d say he’d want a do-over at life rather than to live the life he had for forever.

F2: What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

The sea and his ship have been such a big part of his life for so long that at this point, I think it’s a part of him. Even when living on land for an extended period of time post-Neverland, he has to take to the sea every so often, or else he gets restless and starts to feel almost claustrophobic being stuck within four walls and amid the hustle and bustle of London. There is something about the freedom of the open ocean that makes him feel alive and really lets him breathe easy. So, in a sense, his ship is and always will be his home.

His ideal home on land would, therefore, have to be close to the sea (ideally within walking distance so that he could look out the window and see the ocean on the horizon). It would be a fairly large house with plenty of space, though probably not the size of a mansion or manor home. Inside, the house would be filled with ornate furnishings and beautiful pieces of art. A library and a music room would be a must. Outside, there would be magnificent gardens and open fields with a walkway leading down to the docks.

G6: Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

Ummm…this one is…hard to answer. Hook’s childhood was not exactly what you’d call happy, so he would have a difficult time trying to pick out a favorite childhood memory, but learning to play music was probably the highlight of his younger years. He had a fairly good relationship with his teacher, and once he learned how to play well, he discovered that he could close his eyes and forget the world around him while listening to the music. It was his only relief from the difficulties of daily life growing up and the only thing that kept him sane in Neverland.

L2: What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

With pretty much all of my favorite characters, I tend to write with a redemptive theme in mind, but of course, this theme doesn’t usually appear until AFTER the main events of the original story have taken place. Prior to his redemptive arc, I’d say his themes include angst, isolation/loneliness, existential dread, and vengeance.