#it’s now minute 57 and i’m wondering if i was supposed to *call them* instead (ʘ‿ʘ)—

[deus-ex-mona]

it’s been more than 15 minutes, and i have no idea if i’m being pranked—

[annabethy]

57. “I come here whenever I need a quiet place to think…to sort my head out.”

and/or

36. "How do you even know that this is here?"

in which Percy and Annabeth aren't the best of friends, but meet on the rooftop and discover that maybe, they're exactly what the other needs,, percabeth

It’s two in the morning, and Annabeth finds that she can’t bring herself to sleep.

She tries to hold her eyes shut in hopes of the sleepiness she’s felt all week slipping over her, but another hour passes and she’s still wide awake.

When Annabeth sits up in her bed, she has no intentions of slipping out of the apartment, past her dad’s room, but then she looks out the window where the city lights are awake as can be, and she finds herself already unlocking her window and stepping onto the fire escape.

It’s a long journey up the metal stairs, so she takes her time to appreciate the blow of the winter wind and the noise of New York City that she’s come to love. It’s a biting chill, one that has her wishing she’d put on a jacket prior to her midnight voyage to the top of her apartment building, but it comforting and welcome.

When she does reach the end of the fire escape, she hops onto the ledge of the building and stares off into the skyline. It should be dark so late at night, but instead, it’s glowing. It’s beautiful, she thinks, the industrial feel of the city. It’s so unnatural, but it’s where she’s grown up. She’s used to the honking of horns and the noises that fill the silence.

Annabeth walks along the edge carefully, focusing on the views further in the distance. She wonders if she’d be able to see where the Earth begins to curve and thinks about how big the planet really is (and how small she is in comparison). She can spot the point where the lights seem to have a gap, and she thinks she’s looking at what would be a river in the daylight.

She feels as though she can finally breathe in this moment, though she hadn’t realized how suffocated she had felt before, stuffed into the small space that was her room. Her hair blows in the wind, and she refrains from thinking about how difficult it’ll be to brush it out later. It’s freeing, relieving, and—

“Don’t fall,” a voice warns.

Annabeth rolls her eyes at the voice that is all too familiar, turning her head to she can look over her shoulder. It’s darker atop the building, but even she can spot the mischievous glimmer in her eyes that’s always irked her much more rigid personality.

“Jackson,” she says, a tone of sarcasm in her voice, “What a pleasure.”

“I always am,” he says, grinning. He’s leaning against a metal unit, staring at her, and had they been anywhere else, at any other moment in time, she might’ve made some snarky remark to wipe the grin off his face. She tells herself she doesn’t have the energy to deal with it right now, and that it’s the reason for her silence. “You plan on getting down from there anytime soon?”

“Aw. It’s so sweet you’re worried.” She knows it’s true, despite the small laugh she hears pushed from his lungs. That’s something that she’s discovered about him. Even with the person he hates most in the world, he cares.

“If you fell, people would probably think I pushed you.”

Annabeth snorts.

He’s not particularly wrong. The rivalry they have going on in school is strong, and people probably wouldn’t put murder beyond them.

“Seriously,” he says. “Get down.”

She jumps down from the short ledge towards him. Her eyes adjust slightly to the light, and she can see him better now. He’s in a windbreaker, and his own hair is ruffled in the wind. She finds herself wanting to run her fingers through it before catching herself. It surprises even her – Percy’s made her life nothing but literal hell, and she’d rather die than get caught playing friendly with him.

Annabeth stands next to him but doesn’t sit yet.

“What are you even doing here?” she asks.

“I’m stalking you,” is his answer.

Annabeth kicks him lightly and suppresses a laugh at his dramatic hiss of pain. “What are you actually doing here? You don’t live in this area.”

“I come here whenever I need a quiet place to think…to sort my head out.”

“Percy Jackson can think?”

“Haha, you dick.”

“I’m messing with you,” she says. She chooses then to sit down beside him. She thinks it may be the first time she’s sat near him voluntarily. Annabeth supposes there’s no harm if there’s no one there to see. “How do you even know that this is here?”

Percy shoots her a look, though not an unkind one. It has her neck flushing red despite the temperature outside. “How do I know that this building has a roof?”

“You know what I mean, smartass.”

Percy shrugs and extends his legs. His feet nudge hers playfully. “I’ve lived in this corner my entire life. I know just about everything there is.”

“That’s fair.”

“How about you, Chase? Why is my princess out past curfew?”

Annabeth chooses to ignore the nickname she’s hated for so long (and the way he calls her his).

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admits.

“Something bothering you?”

She hums. “Nothing in particular. I just figured if I was going to be awake, I might as well spend it outside.”

“And spend it with me,” Percy teases, elbowing her lightly.

“Because I love spending time with you,” Annabeth says. There’s a particularly harsh blow of wind that has her crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

Annabeth’s never been one to swallow her pride, but it seems to have gotten significantly colder in minutes, and she’d rather not sit outside for who knows how long without any barrier from the wind. Still, she’s hesitant. “Are you sure?”

Percy chuckles lightly and slips his jacket off his shoulders. “Here.”

When she puts it on, it’s immediate relief. It’s still warm from his body heat, and it smells like him. It’s nicer than she cares to admit, and somehow, she feels comfort in the oversized fabric that she’s practically drowning in.

As she tightens it around her, breathing in the scent of him, she mumbles, “Thank you.”

Percy’s response is a brush against her arm with his fingers.

“So, what were you thinking about?” she asks. “When you came to my secret place?”

“Your secret place?”

“I called dibs. If you wanted it to be yours, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

Percy gives her his lopsided smile at her remark. “I’m not really sure. Life, I guess.”

“About how you plan to torture me at school next week?”

“Oh, of course.”

“That spider was not funny, you know.”

“It’s because I have a crush on you.”

“And here I thought you hated me.”

“Do you think I would give my jacket to someone I hate?”

“I guess not,” she says, laughing. “You can have it back if you want.”

Percy shakes his head. “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure, though? It’s cold outside, and we’re not exactly best friends.”

He grabs her hand from her lap and squeezes it. “I’m alright, Annabeth. I want you to have it.”

Annabeth bites her lower lip, but gives in, sinking further into the jacket. It’s kind of heaven, she hates to admit. She feels as though she should hate this, spending time with Percy Jackson so late into the night, but somehow, she feels more at home than she has in a long time.

“Also,” Percy begins again, “not best friends?”

“Do you really consider us best friends?”

“I mean…you’d definitely have to define best friends. Two people that playfully bully each other? Sure.”

“Playful?” Annabeth chokes out. “Nothing about our relationship is playful. You hit me in the eye with a pencil a few days ago.”

“In my defense, that was actually an accident. I felt really bad about it.”

“Mh-hm.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re not friends, right? I mean, I’d totally kiss you if you wanted me to. I think that qualifies as friends?”

Annabeth is no stranger to his lighthearted flirting, so she just rolls her eyes fondly. “That qualifies as something entirely different.”

“Probably.” Percy squeezes her hand again, and she realizes that he’d never actually let go. “But I’m actually going to miss bullying you every day once we graduate.”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure. You’re going to NYU?”

“And you’re going to Columbia,” he responds back.

“I’ll be close enough to be bullied, then.”

“I guess so. Maybe I don’t want to bully you, though.”

“Aw, bummer. What would our relationship be without your flirtatious bullying?”

“Maybe something more?”

Annabeth looks at him then. He seems to be genuine, and so she finds she can’t look away.

“I do actually consider us friends, Annabeth. I mean it.”

Somehow, she knows he does.

“I guess friends isn’t so bad,” Annabeth says quietly, “if sitting up here is any indication.”

“We could have our weekly ventures to our secret spot.”

“My secret spot,” she corrects.

Percy grins brightly.

“But I wouldn’t be so opposed to that, as long as you never try to hit me with a pencil.”

“I didn’t mean to the first time,” he says lightly.

“Then friends,” she says.

“We’re living our own enemies to lover story.”

“Ew. Never mind. I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Aw.”

Annabeth just muffles a laugh into the sleeve of his jacket, choking out a quick kidding, and he pinches her in indignation. They fall into a silence, and the sounds of New York drown out in her ears. All she can hear is the rhythm of his breathing, and she can only focus on the warmth of his body.

“Do you actually have a crush on me?” she asks, suddenly curious.

“Maybe I do. I guess you’ll just have to stick around long enough to find out.”

Annabeth’s heart flutters. “I guess I will.”

Really, she’s starting to think maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world. Perhaps he’s never been as awful as she’s been telling herself. Maybe it was always just her pride.

Maybe Percy Jackson is exactly what she’s always needed.

Annabeth really has no control over it when her eyes begin to flutter shut. She doesn’t even realize it’s happening until Percy opens his arms towards her – an invitation – and she slides right in. His arms wrap around her, his face pressing into the top of her head, and she lets herself drift into the sleep she’s been wishing for.

She doesn’t wake up until the sun begins to peek over the horizon. She’s nestled deep against him, able to feel every breath he takes and hear his heartbeat. He’s sleeping when she lifts her head, so she allows herself to fall back against him, a subtle smile on her face.

It’s unexpected, but she feels safe in his embrace. It’s warm and happy in their secret spot, and she never wants to leave.

Annabeth stays here with him, in their secret spot, for just a bit longer.

[folkloreguk]

an angel for a demon (2)

A/N: Part one came out like two years ago lmao but I’ve always wanted to write another part, and here it finally is! I’m always open to feedback of any kind! x

genre: smut, optional bias (male), demon!bias, angel!reader, reader’s first time, unprotected sex bc we pretend angels and demons can’t have babies or STDs apparently

words: ~ 3.4 k

PART 1

PART 3

Three days had passed since you had begun to live with him. It had taken you some time to get used to your new surroundings and to realize this is where you would spend most of your time from now on. His place was not what angels called beautiful. Had it been yours, it would have been filled with antique statues of heavenly beings, light, soft colors and comfortable pillows and blankets. But his taste differed gravely from yours. He had a love for black marble and accents of red. Not the beautiful, bright red of strawberries in summer. It was dark crimson, like deoxygenated blood fresh out of a wound. You felt like you had entered a side wing of hell itself, sometimes. But you knew hell had to be much, much worse.

On the second day, you had set yourself the challenge of making the place feel at least slightly homier. No one who entered this apartment would, even in their wildest dreams, assume that an angel lived there. Although you weren’t sure you could call yourself that, anymore. Your trip to the grocery store was the most humane thing you had ever done on earth, but surely wouldn’t stay the last. You wondered, while you had strolled around the isles, whether one day you could find yourself working a job on earth, now that you couldn’t call heaven home no more. You still had the desire to help the humans, and maybe you could earn a living whilst doing so.

On that note, you had pondered countless times how a demon could afford the luxury he lived in. But he wasn’t one to tell you about his day when he returned home after being out all night. He called it ‘demon business’ and ‘nothing that should concern a little angel’. One day, you would winkle it out of him. Although maybe you really would be better off not knowing. But you knew, as always that sooner or later your curiosity would get the best of you.

When he came home on the second day and laid eyes on the cotton candy-colored flowers on the table, he couldn’t help but smirk at how proud you were. The contrast was stark against the dark ebony table and seemed like an accurate representation of how you had felt in his home.

“If you wanted me to bring you flowers you could have just said so,” he said.

“I like going out to the store myself sometimes,” you replied. He was always so stern when he returned home. Sometimes he had tired eyes, and often he seemed physically exhausted. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his strained expression softened. Then, he’d stroke away a strand of your hair and gaze at you with utmost admiration. He had offered to buy you whatever your heart desired, but your angel life had never required you to have possessions. There was no greed or yearning for luxury, and you liked it that way.

One thing, however, you never seemed to get enough of on earth. No matter how many books you opened and got lost in, you always wanted more. And he knew of your wish to learn more about the world. He had gifted you books of philosophy, biology and physics, and yet he had no idea it wasn’t science that interested you the most.

Every night you lay awake for too long, reflecting on what he had said to you that one night. That there was more for you to learn. Before him, you never knew what real pleasure felt like – you weren’t supposed to, even now – but now that you understood, you only wanted to feel it again and again. A few times you had contemplated asking him to show you more. To let you feel the pure bliss of what heaven called sinning again. But he seemed tired when he returned home, and when he didn’t you were too scared to approach him with such a topic. Plus, you didn’t even know how to. Too new was the idea of you – an angel – even thinking of doing such unholy things.

So you spent your days pacing around the apartment, sitting by the window, looking out at the city and waiting for him to come home. One night, you couldn’t fall asleep, as on many other occasions. He wasn’t there next to you, and the bed felt too big for just one lonely angel in it. There was an almost burning sensation between your legs. Once again, you squeezed your eyes shut and thought of other things – floating on clouds, watching older angels’ wings flatter, inspecting your little village you used to guard from above. But nothing helped. It all led back to black eyes, razor teeth, a sharp tongue and hands so hellish in their actions, you should have wished he had never touched you. And yet you never did.

Your eyes shot open when you heard the shower turn on. The alarm clock on the table read 1:57 am. Not so patiently, you waited a few minutes until the sound of the water died down. Then, you tip-toed out of the room and down the hall.

The sight of him made your cheeks heat up. He was sat, in the dark, on the sofa. A towel was around his waist, a few drops of water glistening on his bare chest as he lifted the glass of alcohol to his lips.

“What are you doing standing and staring, little angel? Why don’t you come join me?” he suddenly asked. Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. Heaven help me now, you thought.

“I thought you didn’t…,” you started, slowly moving across the room as if you were floating.

“I didn’t notice you?” he finished your sentence. You hummed a quiet yes. “Your glow is hard to miss.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that. Was he saying, that just as he had a dark aura around him, you radiated a bright one? It made sense to you. You stopped in your tracks when you stood in front of him.

“You’re wearing your angel dress again,” he pointed out. He had brought you clothes, but nothing felt as right on your body as your white dress you had always worn.

“I always sleep in it,” you said. “You never see it, since you’re never here.”

“Does my little angel miss me?” he said. His dark eyes watched you intently, but they softened when he realized you had meant your words. “Come here, let me make it up to you.”

Not knowing what he meant by those words, you plopped down next to him.

“I meant come here,” he repeated, tapping his lap. Oh. Obediently, you swung one of your legs over his waist. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the fact that his towel was the only thing between your center and his bare skin. Carefully, you watched his eyes for instructions or assurance. You kept your hands tightly by your sides, not daring to touch his skin that shined so beautifully in the moonlight. It was almost ironic, how ethereal his perfectly sculpted muscles appeared to you.

“Tell me, angel, do you sometimes think about what we did three days ago?” he asked, softly brushing his fingers along your arm. You should have felt ashamed to admit it. But with the way he watched you, he seemed to already guess your answer.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” you said, the words spilling out after keeping them in for too long. “I want to know more.”

He smirked, hooded black eyes watching your every breath while his head remained on the backrest of the sofa.

“Is that so?” he almost teased. “Why don’t you kiss me, then? Go ahead.”

Hesitantly, you bent forward until your forehead was almost touching his. Now, you didn’t look into his intimidating gaze anymore, but instead the closeness only made you more nervous. But more prominent than your nerves was your curiosity and your desire you hadn’t been able to shut out for the past days. You smelled a faint note of alcohol before you softly pressed your lips against his. Your kiss was the tender flutter of butterfly wings, like a singular snowflake landing on warm skin, as careful as a little bird in a lion’s cage.

But he kissed back, so overwhelmingly and suddenly, it robbed your breath in an instant. His body straightened up now, arms pulling you closer to his chest. Humming contently, he took your lifeless hands from your sides and placed them on his shoulders. His warm skin was inviting, making it easy for you to melt into his touch. Still, you weren’t used to this feeling. Maybe you would never get used to it. Perhaps it was supposed to be this exciting every single time. He breathed against your mouth heavily and his tongue swiped across your lips. The sensation was enticing and combined with his coaxing hands digging into your waist, your guilt washed away far too quickly. But there had been no redemption after the previous time and there wouldn’t be one now. Or ever. For a moment, you pulled away, needing air.

“Too much? Too fast?” he asked, cradling your face in his hands. A rush of comfort overcame you.

“No, I’m fine. It just feels – really good,” you said.

“Of course it does,” he bragged, smirking infamously.

“Can you…I want you to touch me…like you did last time,” you said. Even you were surprised at yourself. You could have just waited for him and he surely would have made you feel amazing. But now that you knew what it could feel like, you weren’t able to swallow your impatience.

“Such a sinful confession from such holy lips,” he said, voice dripping honey while he brushed two of his fingers across those very lips. “I wonder what other things those could do.”

What could he possibly be talking about? How much was there for you to try out? Whatever it was, you wanted to do it all. You had no idea what had come over you. Was there a secret demon that had taken possession of your body without notice? Or maybe you were simply an angel tired of acting like one.

Slowly, his hands dropped from your sides and to your hips. All while he watched your face like it was his favorite meantime to make you squirm under his touch. When he progressed to your thighs, something dropped in your stomach. Again, your body reacted before your mind did and you wanted to press your legs together. It felt familiar, but just as thrilling as the first time. His head tilted slightly as if to ask ‘do you like this?’ as he lifted the hem of your satin dress. And how you liked it.

You were very aware of being bare in front of him. So, in order to avoid feeling his eyes on your body, you bent forward again to kiss him. Bad idea – because the lack of oxygen and the loss of your sight when you closed your eyes only intensified the need. His fingertips were fleeting, rather non-demon-like, but you knew how fast he could flip his actions, had he wanted to.

They ghosted over your slit, collecting your wetness that had been pooling there. At even the slightest contact of his finger on your clit, you let out a quiet noise. He had been biting his lip, but when he heard you, his eyes met yours in an instant and he smirked.

“Let me hear you, little angel,” he said, before placing a kiss on your neck. While he continued to suck purple marks into your skin, his fingers toyed around your center, figuring out what made you react in the best way. And as the angel you were, always eager to please, you made sure you didn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. It felt weird, noticing the sounds he produced from you so involuntarily, but the more you concentrated on the feeling of his hand between your legs, the easier it was to ignore them.

Maybe you were easy to please, or perhaps you were completely see-through for him. It occurred to you he had you figured out head to toe. How did he know exactly which spots to touch to have you clinging to him, as if you would have fallen had he not held you? He drew random figures on your clit, variating the pace just to keep you on edge right where he wanted you. Now and then, his digits slid further down to your core, almost entering you but not quite yet. Your moans came out in a muffled manner as you had your face buried where his neck and shoulder met.

“Look at me, angel,” he said. So you did. No matter what sort of menace could have possibly lay behind his black orbs, the sound of his voice made you want to give him everything. And judging by the way your hips were moving and pushing against his hands by themselves you had already given your body to him. Against all odds, after all the horror stories you had been told to ensure an angel like you would stay far away from hellish beings, you trusted him.

“What a disgrace…They kept you locked up in heaven all this time,” he spoke. “I should have had you all along. You should have had me.”

It had never occurred to you that you could have looked at it this way. You had been happy in heaven. But then again, you hadn’t known what you had been missing. That’s when he slowly inserted one of his fingers into you. The sensation was unusual, but then he curled his digit and you understood.

“Oh god,” you let out when he touched a certain spot inside of you. It felt so right, you wondered why when you were able to feel this way, you should have been abstinent all along.

“Not exactly a good time to bring up god, huh?” he said, teeth nibbling on your neck. You laughed before you could have stopped yourself, and he looked stunned. But then, his lips curled into a malicious and content grin. At the same time, he added another finger into your core. His thumb remained rubbing against your clit, and like last time, you could feel a knot tying in your stomach as time went on. A string of whines and whimpers fell from your lips and your eyes shut tightly. But he decided you’d have to wait longer for your release.

“Do you think you can handle more?” he asked. You sighed when he retracted his hand from your core and watched as he brought his fingers up to his lips to taste you. His gaze didn’t let you decide whether he eyed you like prey or his most treasured thing in the world.

“Yes, I want you to show me,” you said quietly, almost breathless from the sight in front of you.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, then,” he announced. “It’ll be more comfortable for you.”

Your legs felt like jelly as you walked with him. This time, you didn’t hesitate to get onto his black bedsheets. It had become one of your favorite places to be in his apartment by now and the familiarity of it took away some of your nerves.

“I might be a demon, but I promise I can be gentle,” he said. His eyes were probably the most mellow they had ever been since you had met him. Carefully, he helped you slip out of your dress. “So don’t be scared, little angel.”

You had to admit, when he removed his towel from his waist and your eyes fell on his hard member, you weren’t sure if you would be okay. But then he bent down to you and kissed you. His hands softly stroked your cheeks, making it a hard contrast from his devilish image.

“Still sure?” he asked between kisses. It was like he was sucking the fear out of you, although he should have terrified you all along. You nodded and hummed but then changed your voice to a small whimper when he used his hand to run his cock over your slick center. Ever so carefully, he pushed himself inside of you. The stretch was uncomfortable, at first. He must had noticed by reading your face, because his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“It’ll feel better in a bit, I promise,” he said. You relaxed your muscles the moment he kissed you again, his plan of distracting you surely working. When he had completely filled you up, he stayed in place while your tongues touched and you moaned at the feeling. It felt like he had always meant to be there, on top of you, inside of you.

“If you need me to stop or slow down, you’ll tell me, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered. Once again you debated how you ended up this way. In bed with a demon. And said demon had his hooded black eyes on you, while he thrusted into you ever so slowly, and you couldn’t believe how out-of-this-world-perfect he looked. Although you would surely need more time to get used to the feeling, there was a hint of pleasure you felt every time he dragged his cock against your walls and that once special spot he had touched before.

Upon hearing how he moaned for the first time, you realized it wasn’t just touch that could make your stomach clench in a deep desire to be close to him. It sounded animalistic and you kept your eyes on the way his sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip. You sucked in a breath when he caressed your breasts, fingertips toying with your nipples.

“This is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get, right, little angel?” he spoke, and his gloating smile was so wicked, but handsome, right at that moment. You could only hum a ‘yes’. His lips on your neck were gentle, but your head spun whenever his teeth grazed your angel skin.

“You wouldn’t like it there, either way,” you said. His hand snaked down your body, between your legs where you had been missing them. He let out a growl-like moan when you clenched around his cock from the sudden added pleasure. In no time, he found your clit and used his skilled fingers, and he was right, this should have been the definition of heaven.

“And why is that?” he asked. “Because I couldn’t have you this way, in heaven?”

“Exactly,” you whimpered. “Oh- my-“

The desire to close your legs around him became bigger with each second, the knot in your belly tightening and your mind clouding with nothing but bliss.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my own personal heaven,” he said. His free hand brushed away your hair delicately. “Are you gonna let go for me, sweet angel?”

You weren’t sure how to let go, exactly. But if by that he meant for you to close your eyes and just let the feeling wash over you, you would - without a choice - do so. Your high made your back arch against his chest and a small cry escaped your lips. He pushed his digits down on your center, slower now, but making sure to draw out every last second of your orgasm.

He had been speeding up his thrusts but then he pulled out, not wanting to cause you discomfort due to overstimulation. With his hand around his cock and quick movements of his wrist, he managed to bring on his own release, letting his cum spill out onto your thighs. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you finally opened your eyes again, blinking tiredly and wetting your dry lips. He lowered his head until your foreheads touched. The more you looked into his black eyes, the more at home they made you feel.

“How was that, angel?” he asked, his breathing still unsteady.

“Heavenly,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss. Even against his lips, you recognized his devilish smirk. And up to that point, you had believed ‘heaven on earth’ was just some silly little human saying. Until he proved you wrong.

[books-letstalkaboutem]

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue Quotes that I Loved

This is just a list of quotes or excerpts that I highlighted while reading the book- literally all of them and there are a lot. I’m going to go ahead and say spoilers below just because there are so many quotes and while I don’t think the quotes actually spoil anything, I don’t want to accidentally spoil something for someone.

Some of the quotes might seem a little weird out of context but these are quotes that hit close to home, made me say “Hell, yeah, Addie!!!", quotes that made me laugh, and then basically all of the other quotes that I loved while reading.

I know that I didn't completely fall in love with this book like so many other people did, but it was still so beautifully written and there were so many amazing quotes in this book.

And just a heads up, I read this on my kindle, just in case the page numbers I list don’t match with your copy of the book.

Spoilers Below:

Quotes that Hit Close to Home

“Three and twenty, a third of a life already buried.” Page 39

“The day passes like a sentence. The sun falls like a scythe.” Page 41

“[...] and when she dies it will be as though she never lived.” Page 42

“I am so tired of not having choices, so scared of the years rushing past beneath my feet. I do not want to die as I’ve lived, which is no life at all. I—” Page 46

“[...] she swears sometimes her memory runs forward as well as back, unspooling to show the roads she’ll never get to travel. But that way lies madness, and she has learned not to follow.” Page 61

“His parents meant well, of course, but they always told him things like Cheer up, or It will get better, or worse, It’s not that bad, which is easy to say when you’ve never had a day of rain.” Page 97

“But then a night would go long, and a day would start late, and now he feels like there’s no time at all. Like he is always late for something.” Page 119

““I see someone who cares,” she says slowly. “Perhaps too much. Who feels too much. I see someone lost, and hungry. The kind of person who feels like they’re wasting away in a world full of food, because they can’t decide what they want.”” Page 140

““Life is so brief, and every night in Rennes I’d go to bed, and lie awake, and think, there is another day behind me, and who knows how few ahead.”” Page 167

““I mean feeling like it’s surging by so fast, and you try to reach out and grab it, you try to hold on, but it just keeps rushing away. And every second, there’s a little less time, and a little less air, and sometimes when I’m sitting still, I start to think about it, and when I think about it, I can’t breathe. I have to get up. I have to move.”” Page 177

““Small places make for small lives. And some people are fine with that. They like knowing where to put their feet. But if you only walk in other people’s steps, you cannot make your own way. You cannot leave a mark.”” Page 179

“It was such a lovely jar she had kept them in. But the glass is cracking now. The water leaking through.” Page 215

“Moments of joy register as brief, but ecstatic. Moments of pain stretch long and unbearably loud.” Page 225

“[...] you’ve never felt called to any one thing. There is no violent push in one direction, but a softer nudge a hundred different ways, and now all of them feel out of reach. Page 226

“[...] in wanting to live, to learn, to find yourself, you’ve gotten lost.” Page 226

“He lets it ring, holds his breath until it stops. He tells himself that if they call again, he’ll answer. If they call again, he’ll tell them he is not okay. But the phone doesn’t ring a second time.” Page 229

“He misses the structure, misses the path, misses the purpose. And maybe it wasn’t a perfect fit, but nothing is.” Page 257

“That he’d blinked and somehow years had gone by, and everyone else had carved their trenches, paved their paths, and he was still standing in a field, uncertain where to dig.” Page 283

“And those first two years, he was happy. He had Bea, and Robbie, and all he had to do was learn. Build a foundation. It was the house, the one that he was supposed to build on top of that smooth surface, that was the problem. It was just so … permanent.” 283

“Choosing a class became choosing a discipline, and choosing a discipline became choosing a career, and choosing a career became choosing a life, and how was anyone supposed to do that, when you only had one?” Page 283

““The vexing thing about time,” he says, “is that it’s never enough. Perhaps a decade too short, perhaps a moment. But a life always ends too soon.”” Page 333

“He is all restless energy, and urgent need, and there isn’t enough time, and he knows of course that there will never be. That time always ends a second before you’re ready. That life is the minutes you want minus one.” Page 421

“The world is wide, and he’s seen so little of it with his own eyes. He wants to travel, to take photos, listen to other people’s stories, maybe make some of his own. After all, life seems very long sometimes, but he knows it will go so fast, and he doesn’t want to miss a moment.” Page 438

Quotes that Made Me Laugh

“Henry loves his sister, he does. But Muriel’s always been like strong perfume. Better in small doses. And at a distance.” Page 120

““Sorry, Book,” she mutters, lifting the cat gingerly onto the back of the old chair, where he does his best impression of an inconvenienced bread loaf.” Page 248

““It’s Halloween!” defends Robbie. “It’s the twenty-third,” says Henry, but Robbie treats holidays the way he treats birthdays, stretching them from days into weeks, and sometimes into seasons.” Page 274

Quotes that made me say “Hell, yeah, Addie!!!”

“If she must grow roots, she would rather be left to flourish wild instead of pruned, would rather stand alone, allowed to grow beneath the open sky. Better that than firewood, cut down just to burn in someone else’s hearth.” Page 31

“[...]from this moment forward, her life will be her own.” Page 48

“There is a defiance in being a dreamer.” Page 117

““It has only been two years,” she says. “Think of all the time I have, and all the things I’ll see.”” Page 132

“It will take time, but time is the one thing Addie has plenty of. So she opens her eyes, and starts again.” Page 192

“But then Addie straightens, lifts her chin, smiles with an almost defiant kind of joy. “But isn’t it wonderful,” she says, “to be an idea?”” Page 261

Quotes that I Love

“[...] never pray to the gods that answer after dark.” Page 7

“What is a person, if not the marks they leave behind?” Page 15

“The things that last, even when memories don’t.” Page 16

“As if you couldn’t like one place and want to see another.” Page 23

“Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.” Page 35

“The kind of place where time slips and blurs, where a month, a year, a life can go missing.” Page 39

“[...] attraction can look an awful lot like recognition in the wrong light.” Page 56

“The rise isn’t worth the fall.” Page 56

“Being trapped, buried alive, these are the things that scare you when you cannot die.” Page 57

“Funny, how some people take an age to warm, and others simply walk into every room as if it’s home.” Page 58

“Déjà vu. Déjà su. Déjà vécu. Already seen. Already known. Already lived.” Page 66

“[...]a lifetime of knowing brushed away like a tear.” Page 73

“[...] and it is sad, of course, to forget. But it is a lonely thing, to be forgotten. To remember when no one else does.” Page 77

“[...] ideas are so much wilder than memories, that they long and look for ways of taking root.” Page 77

““These days, everyone’s looking down,” muses Sam. “It’s nice to see someone looking up.”” Page 101

“Being forgotten, she thinks, is a bit like going mad. You begin to wonder what is real, if you are real. After all, how can a thing be real if it cannot be remembered?” Page 103

“If a person cannot leave a mark, do they exist?” Page 103

“Dreamer is too soft a word. It conjures thoughts of silken sleep, of lazy days in fields of tall grass, of charcoal smudges on soft parchment.” Page 11

“She considers the cut of their clothes, the absence of bone stays or bustled skirts, and thinks, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, how much simpler it would be to be a man, how easily they move through the world, and at such little cost.” Page 129

““I remember you.”” Page 135

“The darkness claimed he’d given her freedom, but really, there is no such thing for a woman, not in a world where they are bound up inside their clothes, and sealed inside their homes, a world where only men are given leave to roam.” Page 163

“She watches these men and wonders anew at how open the world is to them, how easy the thresholds.” Page 165

““I think there are many ways to matter.”” Page 179

“But ideas are so much wilder than memories, so much faster to take root.”” Page 210

“He is full of roots, while she has only branches.” Page 212

“Easy to stay on the path when the road is straight and the steps are numbered.” Page 229

“Outside the window, the day just carries on as if nothing’s changed, but it feels like everything has, because Addie LaRue is immortal, and Henry Strauss is damned.” Page 235

“[...]I didn’t want to live forever. I just wanted to live.”” Page 236

““There’s this family photo,” he says, “not the one in the hall, this other one, from back when I was six or seven. That day was awful. Muriel put gum in David’s book and I had a cold, and my parents were fighting right up until the flash went off. And in the photo, we all look so … happy. I remember seeing that picture and realizing that photographs weren’t real. There’s no context, just the illusion that you’re showing a snapshot of a life, but life isn’t snapshots, it’s fluid. So photos are like fictions. I loved that about them. Everyone thinks photography is truth, but it’s just a very convincing lie.”” Page 239

“God, it feels good to be wanted.” Page 256

“[...] And ideas are wilder than memories. They’re like weeds, always finding their way up.”” Page 261

“Homesick—Henry knows that one is supposed to mean sick for home, not from it, but it still feels right.” Page 262

“Dressing up, he thinks, is just like watching cartoons, something you enjoyed as a kid, before it passes through the no man’s land of teen angst, the ironic age of early twenties. And then somehow, miraculously, it crosses back into the realm of the genuine, the nostalgic. A place reserved for wonder.” Page 274

“Bea always says returning to campus is like coming home. But it doesn’t feel that way to Henry. Then again, he never felt at home at home, only a vague sense of dread, the eggshell-laden walk of someone constantly in danger of disappointing.” 282

“He doesn’t know what he believes, hasn’t for a long time, but it’s hard to entirely discount the presence of a higher power when he recently sold his soul to a lower one.” Page 284

““You can’t make people love you, Hen. If it’s not a choice, it isn’t real.”” Page 290

“He has asked the wrong god for the wrong thing, and now he is enough because he is nothing. He is perfect, because he isn’t there.” Page 290

“A life reduced to a block of stone, a patch of grass.” Page 299

“The present folding on top of the past instead of erasing it, replacing it.” Page 306

“She knows the paint will fade, rinsed off by a puddle, or simply wiped away by time, but that’s how memories are supposed to work. There—and then, little by little, gone.” Page 307

“Without the bells, the organ, the bodies crowding in for services, the church feels abandoned. Less a house of worship and more a tomb.” Page 311

“God is so large, why build walls to hold Him in?” Page 311

“Once you know about a thing, you start to see it everywhere. Someone says the words purple elephant, and all of a sudden, you catch sight of them in shop windows and on T-shirts, stuffed animals and billboards, and you wonder how you never noticed.” Page 314

“There is a freedom, after all, in being forgotten.” 325

“Memories are stiff, but thoughts are freer things. They throw out roots, they spread and tangle, and come untethered from their source. They are clever, and stubborn, and perhaps—perhaps—they are in reach.” Page 327

“They’ve been lucky, so lucky, but the trouble with luck is that it always ends.” 329

““You said it yourself, Luc. Ideas are wilder than memories. And I can be wild. I can be stubborn as the weeds, and you will not root me out. And I think you are glad of it. I think that’s why you’ve come, because you are lonely, too.”” Page 332

“She closes her eyes, reminds herself there are many ways to leave a mark, reminds herself that pictures lie.” Page 337

“She may not feel the years weakening her bones, her body going brittle with age, but the weariness is a physical thing, like rot, inside her soul. There are days when she mourns the prospect of another year, another decade, another century. There are nights when she cannot sleep, moments when she lies awake and dreams of dying. But then she wakes, and sees the pink and orange dawn against the clouds, or hears the lament of a lone fiddle, the music and the melody, and remembers there is such beauty in the world. And she does not want to miss it— any of it.” Page 342

“Luc’s smile darkens. “Because time is cruel to all, and crueler still to artists. Because vision weakens, and voices wither, and talent fades.” He leans close, twists a lock of her hair around one finger. “Because happiness is brief, and history is lasting, and in the end,” he says, “everyone wants to be remembered.”” Page 351

“It is a sign, when even gods and devils dread a fight.” Page 367

“And this, he decides, is what a good-bye should be. Not a period, but an ellipsis, a statement trailing off, until someone is there to pick it up. It is a door left open. It is drifting off to sleep.” Page 419

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 1/57, 97.7k words

Next

I was like “hey brain I’d love to do a shitpost social media au” and then it was like r e w r i t e m i r a c u l o u s

I don’t even know if it really even counts as miraculous anymore so much has changed god damn it --

Rena Rouge had never been so excited for anything in her life.

Of course, at first glance people would find that insane. She was going to a meeting, after all.

But it was the people that were also attending that had her practically vibrating she was so excited.

All the heroes of Paris were to be gathered under Master Fu’s orders. They hardly ever worked together, so having all four (five, including her, she reminded herself) together was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime event. She wished she was still a reporter, this was the kind of thing she would have killed to report on back in the day…

Still, a part of her had to wonder why exactly they were all there. Master Fu had been vague when he’d called. She had some theories, of course, but all this waiting was starting to shift her excitement into nerves. She attempted to smooth out her tail, but ended up just tucking it under herself to hide her anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t have come so early.

The first person to show up after her was Carapace. He’d poked his head through the door, the hood of his sleeveless hoodie pulled so low over his face that it partially hid his face. Then he broke into a wide smile and pushed the hood up a little to show the green glint of his mask. He made his way inside and took a seat next to her.

“Salu -- Bonjour!” His confident smile melted into an uncomfortable one. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Salut,” she said, not wanting him to feel awkward.

Besides, that was kind of his whole shtick. Carapace was the relatable hero, the one you could vent about your problems to.

(Well, technically you could vent to all of Paris’s heroes, they didn’t mind… but Carapace was the only one that felt close enough to actually try it with.)

Silence lapsed between them as they sat there. She tried to remember whether she had met him as Rena Rouge or not and he seemed unsure whether she wanted to talk, but they were distracted from their thoughts when Chloe walked into the room.

Chloe just kind of… does that. If Carapace was the personable one, Chloe was the one who felt the most unreachable. She was open about her persona, had to be after everyone found out about it, and exactly how relatable can a mayor’s daughter be? She’d leaned into it, though, opting for golden jewelry and wings that glinted in the light.

Neither of the present heroes said anything to Chloe, and Chloe didn’t acknowledge them.

Was it rude? Technically. But what else were they supposed to do? Chloe had made it clear a week ago that she didn’t like them. There’s no good conversation that can come after you get shit-talked on live tv.

The last person to be on time was Chat Noir. The original hero. He gave them a smile worthy of a model as he slipped inside. “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” said Rena and Carapace, and even Chloe gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

The leather of his black suit made a high-pitched squeaking sound against the chair when he sat down that made both him and Rena’s hair stand on end (literally).

Master Fu walked in to find Carapace trying to soothe two very frazzled miraculous holders and Chloe ignoring them on her phone.

He sighed and gently rapped his cane on the ground.

Instantly, the room quieted. Chat and Rena snapped out of their shock.

“Bonjour,” chorused everyone.

He smiled tensely. “Bonjour. Where’s Ladybug?”

“Not here yet,” said Chloe. She set her phone down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing in the papers, either.”

Master Fu nodded a little bit and took a seat at the head of the table. “We can wait for her. There’s no rush.”

Carapace hesitated before raising his hand. “There’s… a bit of a rush. I was procrastinating a college app and it’s due tonight…”

“It shouldn’t be long,” said Master Fu.

This was true. About five minutes later Ladybug burst into the room, panting softly. “Bon… jour...”

“Thanks for finally showing up,” said Chloe.

No one knew for sure, because Ladybug’s eyes were completely white, but they got the feeling that she was rolling her eyes.

“There was an akuma.”

“Really? There was nothing on the news…” said Rena, genuinely confused, but she trailed off when she realized that maybe getting one of your childhood heroes in trouble was a bad idea if you wanted to have a good relationship with said childhood hero.

Thankfully, Ladybug didn’t seem all that annoyed. “That’s because the news anchor and her crew got swallowed by it before they could get any information out. Anyways, it’s dealt with.”

With that, Ladybug took a seat in the last open chair. There was a beat as she smoothed out the red and black folds of her dress and then she crossed her legs and smiled at everyone.

Master Fu sighed and shook his head, slowly placing his cane in his lap.

“Now that everyone is here, would anyone like to guess why?”

The heroes of Paris stiffened a little bit. That sounded a lot like they were in trouble. They didn’t want to be in trouble.

Rena slowly raised her hand. “Is it… because of what Queen Bee said last week?”

The heroes’ expressions soured a bit at the memory. The video of Chloe trash talking all of them to an interviewer had blown up, and now they could hardly do anything without having at least one reporter hounding them for a response.

None of them could give any, though Rena was sure at least some of them were tempted. The public was supposed to think them all friends, or at worst friendly coworkers. It gave them hope, seeing them all working together for team ups, and analyzing their friendship dynamics kept them relatively distracted from the fact that it had been six years since the first hero had first arrived on the scene and they still had virtually nothing on Hawkmoth.

But now that illusion had been shattered (and trust her, she knew a lot about illusions). Akumas had been more active this week.

“That’s precisely it. Thank you, Rena.” Master Fu regarded them all carefully. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Really, they’d had no clue what to do about their image.

Chloe hadn’t been joking, she’d made that plainly obvious, so saying she didn’t mean it or that was just the type of friendship they had wasn’t going to work…

“Act more like friends…?” Said Ladybug when no one spoke up.

Master Fu nodded.

“Oh, so more team ups or something?” Said Chat.

Carapace shrugged. “Don’t know how much of that I can do, since I’m the only one that can consistently get in the water, but…” He shrugged again. “... sure, I can do that.”

The old man drummed his fingers on the table lightly to bring their attention back to him.

“Yes, that, too, but I was thinking something more… convincing.”

Rena decided that she definitely didn’t like the way his eyes gleamed.

“So, until you manage to defeat Hawkmoth, you will all be living together.”

Everyone opened their mouths to argue but he held up a hand to silence them.

“And you’ll be doing it publicly, posting regular content about it to a social media platform of your choosing…”  He put his hand down. “Now you can complain.”

The teens all immediately started attempting to talk over each other, their voices steadily increasing in volume as they tried to be the one to get their complaints heard.

Rena was silent. Part of her thought that she should be complaining. She had siblings, after all, she had a life outside of heroism… but she couldn’t help but smile. She would be living with her childhood heroes (for a long time, probably, because the Hawkmoth situation was not getting better)! And, really, her sisters could get annoying at times. She’d love an excuse to get away.

So instead of arguing she leaned back in her chair and watched everyone else.

Chloe was the most passionate about it, her jewelry flashing with every wild swing of her hand. Her voice was the loudest, but with the other voices in the room and the fact that she was literally buzzing in her anger it was hard to make out what she was saying.

Chat seemed distressed and Rena could see his mouth saying “I don’t think I’d be allowed to” repeatedly even if she couldn’t hear him over Chloe’s screeching.

Carapace’s face was set in an uncharacteristic frown as he complained. Sure, of those voicing their complaints, he definitely seemed the most relaxed, but the fact that he was frowning was in itself proof of just how upset he really was.

Ladybug was quiet, though she didn’t look particularly happy about it. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as if she was holding herself back from yelling as well and her fingers worried at the hem of her dress.

After a minute of this, Master Fu raised his hands for silence and instantly got it once again.

“Are you done?”

The general consensus was ‘no’, if the looks on their faces meant anything, but they nodded anyways.

“Good. Chat Noir, I’ve already worked everything out with your dad, we’ll discuss it more after the meeting is over.”

Chat relaxed a bit.

“Carapace, your schooling will not be affected. In fact, you’ll likely have a better college experience since all your food and toiletries will be paid for by me.”

Carapace’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he considered this.

“Queen Bee, must I remind you of the fact that you’re on thin ice as it is?”

Everyone’s eyes shot to Chloe, who had paled considerably. Her angry buzzing quickly lowered to a dull hum and she settled back into her seat.

Master Fu seemed sated by this, and he looked at Ladybug and Rena.

“And I’m assuming I don’t need to convince either of you?”

Rena shook her head instantly. Ladybug took her time to consider, but eventually shook her head as well.

“Great. Now, shall we talk logistics?”

~~~

Taglist:

@nathleigh @mialuvscats

[shiversdownyerspine]

5. Deprived

Gettin a little hot in here. :B

18+

The kittens arrive in the quiet of the night, stars dotting the deep dark blanket of sky. Sleep had failed to find you, and so you had shuffled your pajama-clad way to your kitchen with a chunky knit blanket wrapped around your chilly shoulders. The thick charcoal colored material dangles to the backs of your knees as you wait impatiently for your kettle to boil water for a big cup of chamomile tea.

As the water softly bubbles to your earnest desires of being lured to sleep, you find yourself distracted by a soft knock on your front door. You perk up, knowing by experience that this would be your nameless, faceless animal transporter. And just like with every other task animal, when you open the door you find nobody in sight, just a randomly sized pet kennel resting on your doorstep. You kneel and scoop up the crate to bring it inside.

Excitement momentarily stealing away your drowsiness, you quickly switch off the heat of your stove and carry your cargo to your room. Tea can wait a moment, the water will still be plenty hot by the time you're done. Closing the door behind you, you take a quick peek to find two fuzzballs huddled together at the back of the crate. The kittens are awake but clearly tired, and judging from their quivering bodies, probably a little bit stressed. Not wanting to cause more discomfort, you quietly unlock the kennel door to slowly reach in and gather them up for a quick health check.

Eyes, ears, and noses look clear and healthy, tiny claws and whiskers and tails are where they should be, no bumps or scratches to be seen. You briefly tut at the lack of towel or blanket in their kennel, worried about the absence of warmth and comfort. You've tried requesting some basic amenities for when your task animals are being prepared for delivery, but your needs have yet to be met. You're fairly certain by now that they never will be.

Both kittens are male and look to be around seven weeks old, still a bit too young to be neutered. As a matter of fact, they are still too young to be away from their mother, but some things just can't be helped. Judging by the pale bodies and dark brown coloration of their ears, face, tails, and paws, they are chocolate points. Satisfied, you pop the babies back inside and grab up the fluffy towel waiting on your dresser, carefully pushing it in and around the kittens before moving them to your bathroom.

Nestling their kennel in the corner of their 'room', you drape another blanket over them to offer privacy and leave the crate door open a crack for if they choose to explore. Softly closing the door to your bathroom, you head out of your bedroom and step once more to your kitchen to finally fix your mug of tea. Hot drink in hand, your gaze settles on the stove clock which reads 4:57 AM. With a sigh, you sip your tea and tug your blanket further up your shoulder, lamenting the lack of sleep you will be suffering from come morning. You suppose in the end you'll just have to rely on good ol' fashioned coffee to offer you any sort of alertness today. Resigned, you wander off to your bedroom, but are interrupted before you can make it there.

Midstep, you nearly drop your mug when the door to your guest room opens and there in the doorway stands a groggy, long john wearing Otto. Long hair ruffled and eyes half-lidded, he peers down at you questioningly. You freeze, your eyes sweeping up and down over his defined muscles before a blush rises to your cheeks and you drop your gaze to your feet, murmuring an apology for waking him and quickly explaining away the disrupted sleep because of the kittens arrival. You apologize once more and quickly scurry to your room as a befuddled Otto looks on, wondering why you had been up long before the kittens arrived.

Three cups of coffee in, the morning comes and goes relatively uneventfully. You do have to insist to an avidly interested Oscar that he wait just a little while longer to meet the kittens as they are still waking up and quite uncertain about their new home. You promise after their breakfast he can visit, lightly patting the grumbling man's back in reply as his brothers drink their coffee. With kitten food in hand, you hope this will help coax the babies out of their kennel. You amusedly eye Butternut and Pumpkin who are crowded around the door to your room, smelling intently.

You nudge them away with a hum of, "In due time you goofs."

To your delight the kittens perk up noticeably after feeding, and after some consideration you poke your head out your room to softly call for anyone interested to come see. As long as they keep the other cats out, that is. Oscar is naturally the first one up out of his chair while Axel and Otto hesitate before joining their younger sibling. They were simply bored, but they did have some interest in the mystery surrounding you and thereby extending to your room as well.

You tell the brothers to mind their feet before noticing Otto subtly eyeing your odd assortment of bits and bobs you have collected in a small jewelry box that had long since lost its shine and its lid. As Oscar and Axel carefully slip into the bathroom, they linger to watch you curiously from the doorway as you step to Otto to reach in your treasure box.

"I'm a bit of a collector, if something has a good texture and makes an impression, I tend to keep it."

An old bullet casing brushes your searching fingertips; you hold up the item for Otto to take, which he does, warm fingers brushing against your own slender digits. He rolls the hollow shell between thumb and forefinger as he inspects it closely. Perusing your other little knickknacks, you muse aloud how you never really plan to do anything with the trinkets, just allow yourself to indulge in an odd whim every once in a while.

Hearing the squeaky inquisitive sounds from the kennel in your bathroom, you and your little entourage find your attentions being redirected. With a gentle bump of your knuckles against Otto's wrist, you motion to follow you. Behind you the man's eyes drag up and down your figure in a surreptitious slide, settling minutely on the full curve of your rear before forcing himself to focus instead on the little jewelry box as he returns the tiny article to its rightful place.

With curiosity sated and more information shared about the tiny fuzzy additions to your home, you usher your guests out of your room as the kittens settle in for a much needed nap. You're tempted to follow their lead and crash on your bed, but you have a couple more things to do. One task being to introduce the towel you had rubbed the two kittens down with to your cats as a pseudo meeting. The Swedes watch in the living room from the sofa as Pumpkin takes a whiff, fluffs up, and slinks away while Butternut just plops herself down next to the towel like it's the most interesting thing she's ever smelled.

The other task? Well, technically you owe Axel and his brothers a tidbit of information after you refused to answer a question about your feathers during his 'interrogation'. And as you admit to the Swedes that you owe them some extra information, Oscar jumps right in.

"What is...favorite animal..no..task animal?"...It's technically against the rules, but it's a good question so you'll allow it.

Excited, you gush, "My pekin duck! Now, I love all my animals, but being my very first task, she's special. Most likely she was going to be prepared for food but the target never made it to dinner. She was wild-caught so it wasn't difficult to rehabilitate and release her. Good thing the woods have a lake. Well, more of a glorified pond really, but she loves it."

Axel side-eyes you slyly, "Duck makes good meal, shame."

You gasp, "No!..Well okay, probably, but I could never eat Ducky!"

Simultaneously, Axel's brows lifted high, Otto choked, and Oscar gasped, "Ducky?! Her name?"

You hesitate, ears red, before exclaiming proudly, "Yes, Ducky. Ducky the Pekin duck...come on this shouldn't surprise you, I named my cats after squash! Don't you dare laugh!"

Otto was roughly huffing into his fist as you floundered. Oscar had shifted closer to you with a wide grin, bumping his knee against yours. 

Axel smirked, teasingly sounding out the two syllables, "Duck-y..."

The glare you send his way is intended to be irritated, but is quickly ruined by your twitching lips fighting back a smile.

"I-It's a childhood thing! I couldn't bring myself to call her anything else!" You rub your cheeks, as if that would somehow lift the vivid color from your face.

"The lake by our orphanage had a variety of birds, and every single one in that water was Ducky. I was too young to really care about the differences. Also it drove our poor caretaker crazy, which ah...kind of enforced the habit."

Your mirth falters as you process your little slip up...that's what your lack of sleep gets you, you suppose. Okay, no use fretting. Push on.

"So when I saw my first animal, her name was already decided really." You smooth the material of the towel in your hands, relaxing your posture. 

"Chickens." You blink, looking quizzically to Axel. He nods towards Oscar.

Otto shifts his weight from one leg to the other, hands tugging his suspenders as he adds, "Chicken thief."

Your gaze settles on the youngest Swede with a playful gasp, "Oscar, really?"

The man meets your feigned incredulity with his ever-wicked smirk and declares with devilish pride, "Salt and Peppar."

It clicks, "...You named them after seasoning. Because you were going to eat them?"

Axel drags his eyes from Oscar to you, "Eventually."

You can't help but giggle, the three men twitching at the sound, "So, when you were younger you stole chickens? Wait wait, I'm going to guess...it wasn't just Oscar..and he roped you two into it?"

Oscar barks a laugh as the other two sigh and nod. You grin, "Goodness, chicken thieves in my home. Did you all get caught?"

Smug, Oscar shook his head as Otto responded, "Nej. Too fast. We...kept for eggs, ate later...old age."

You bump your elbow gently against Oscar's arm, immediately drawing his attention to you, "I've never had chickens before, but my old Ducky does have a bit of an attitude. How were Salt and Peppar?"

Axel snorts, leaning forward, "Angry. Not bad killing mice. Also good flavor."

Otto folds his arms across his chest, nodding in agreement. You chuckle, "Okay if any of you see Ducky, you can't eat her. It's just not allowed."

Still staring, Oscar licks his lips, "..Can we eat you?"

Axel and Otto tense, eyes boring holes into the scoundrel. You scoff, completely missing the lewd innuendo, "Oh ha ha clever; I have feathers, like poultry. Very funny."

You stand with a smile, realizing you should really grab some kind of food mat for the messy eaters resting in your bathroom before lunch time rolls around. You retreat to the kitchen to search while the brothers linger in the living room, staring Oscar down. Butternut in his arms, the youngest removes himself from the floor just to lazily stretch out on the sofa, innocent as can be as he ignores his brothers obvious ire. Pumpkin slips out from under the coffee table to hop up and settle on his stomach in classic cat-loaf position.

Axel begrudgingly turns his attention to you, recalling your cheeky attitude and fiery stubbornness concerning his prior questions in the kitchen a good while ago...yes, he won't deny how heat had pooled in his loins at your antics, bubbling even more when he glimpsed charming pink shyly sweep between your lips. But obviously it wasn't enough to tempt him; no, he didn't imagine himself seated at that very same chair, boots planted firmly on the kitchen floor as his hands squeeze your rear, bouncing you naked in his lap, fucking the defiance out of you as you moan and beg and promise you'll be good- he sucks in a breath, nostrils flaring. Taking a moment to reign in his hormones, he stalks off to the garden for fresh air, scowling all the while. Oscar.

Otto grimaces at Oscar's impertinence and clenches his hands, hesitating as remorse unsettles his stomach as he remembers the feel of you, your back against his front, his hands holding your body helpless and trembling with distress...and wonders instead about making you shake with something else; smoothing his hands over soft fabric to push under your sweater and up quivering belly to gently palm your breasts, pushing fabric away to bare them to his touch, fingers brushing your nipples, lightly pinching and plucking as your head lolls back, your hips rolling to push your ass against him- he exhales, trousers feeling just a tad uncomfortable. With a rough swallow, he lumbers off down the hallway to their room to...regain his composure. Fucking Oscar.

Oscar knows damn well what he's done. He's noticed the way his brothers' eyes linger on you, their growing infatuation not nearly as hidden as they thought. At least not from each other. Now they won't be able to get some rather debauched ideas out of their heads; just like he can't get rid of the thought of your pretty startled eyes blinking up at him, but instead of up, you're peering down, doe-eyed as he moves down your body and between spread legs, preparing to demonstrate the actual meaning of his joke as his hungry mouth hovers teasingly over your panties, just close enough that he can smell you as the heat of his breath warms the dampening fabric.

Oscar strains his neck to sneak a glance at you in the kitchen, adoration softening his expression as he hears your joyful exclamation when you track down the food mat for the kittens. It's possible you were just doing your hostly duties, but they all notice how you blossom as you accept their presence and he and his brothers gradually accept yours. He has no doubt his brothers are subconsciously beginning to consider you theirs; he saw with his own incredulous eyes as big, brutish Otto held you still, firm but careful, not a single feather crushed under fist...or how Axel, steely, stern Axel, was opening up to you about their own lives, tiny piece that it was. He had almost been stunned into silence with that one.

The thought of you in their beds had been just that; a tempting thought, conjured by night and temporarily sated come morning. But seeing his brothers' walls cracking, little by little? How curious. He can't resist giving his stubborn brothers a little push, jostling their imaginations, maybe some taunting thrown in to strain those cracks?...oh, this will be fucking fun.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.  

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace.  “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

*

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed,  giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

[universe-n-3276]

Carrying the Moon

Chapter 13

Robbe was the first of the gang to finish his exams. It wasn’t a surprise, since he had always been the nerd of the group. He hadn't skipped a day in high school and had never been late, even when Sander tried hard to get him to stay in bed for just another five minutes.

He finally had more free time and could focus on Hero. He wanted to make up for the months they hadn’t spend together, somehow.

Now that the weather had become milder, they stayed outside most of their time. Robbe liked going to the park, pushing Hero on the swing, and hearing him laugh out loud every time.

He had started to make him try new foods, and he loved to take pictures of all of the baby’s reactions. The kid was curious and tasted everything without thinking twice, sometimes being pleasantly satisfied, other times regretting it immediately, making such funny faces that made Sander and Robbe laugh until they were out of breath.

He was having the most beautiful experience of his life, and sharing it with Sander made everything incredibly more wonderful.

It was the night before Sander's last exam. An art history exam that made him worried, because he had failed it twice already. He had a hard time remembering dates and names, plus his professor was terribly meticulous (he was “a bitch who needs to get laid, for fuck’s sake” to use Sander’s own words). Robbe had tried to make things easier for him by taking Hero out of the house and leaving him alone to study.

That afternoon, after returning from their walk, Robbe had feed Hero, bathed, and put him to sleep a little earlier, to help his boyfriend to revise.

Sander had answered all of Robbe’s questions without even thinking about it for a second, and when they were done it was almost midnight, so Robbe decided to go to bed, and wait for his boyfriend, while he checked the last pages of his notes.

Unfortunately taking care of a baby was pretty tiring, and Robbe fell asleep a few minutes after laying his head on the pillow. When the boy opened his eyes again, he didn't think he had slept for long because the other side of the bed was still empty and uncomfortably cold. He picked up the phone to check the time and was shocked to discover it was already 1:57 am. Robbe decided to get up, thinking that the stupid routine of going around the house at the most unlikely times, to look for his boyfriend, who should have been asleep next to him instead, was starting to get on his nerves.

The hallway lights were still on, so it wasn't hard to spot Sander right away, still in the room where he left him a few hours earlier. His head was bent over his books, with notes in hands.

"What are you still doing here? It's 2 am!"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Have you at least tried? Are you still revising for your exam?"

"I just can't remember all these stupid dates and names!"

“Sander, you do! You know everything!"

"I don't!"

Sander replied in an altered and frustrated tone, regretting it immediately, and Robbe could see the emotions change quickly on his face. He approached his boyfriend and placed his hands on his shoulders, massaging them to try to relax him. He was tense, tired, almost on the verge of exhaustion and all this wouldn’t have helped him the next morning. Sander needed to rest immediately.

"Baby, did you take your sleeping pill?"

"No."

"Why?"

"What if I’ll fall asleep during my exam because of it?"

"You won’t, you’re taking the minimum dosage just to help you fall asleep when you are supposed to. You know that."

"Yes, but what if this time my brain reacts differently and I do fall asleep in class? Or what if I oversleep because I don't hear the alarm?"

"You sleep next to me, I’ll wake you up, I promise."

Robbe reached down to kiss Sander's shoulder and wrapped his arms around her neck, tilting his head to rest it against his boyfriend's. He was tired and wanted to drag Sander to bed without much explanation, just like you do with a child, but he knew that those weren't whims and that his boyfriend was struggling to look at things rationally. Sometimes being with him was hard, but the moments of pure joy far outweighed those of despair. Sander was worth everything.

"Sander, talk to me."

"I'm so scared to fail once again. I'll let everyone down."

There you go. There was always something deeper under the surface. He just needed to be patient to find it out.

“Hear me out. You won’t fail again, and if you do it’s okay, you’ll try again in a few months, none of us will be disappointed! The school doesn't define who you are."

"I know, but-"

"Baby, you're giving yourself a panic attack. You trust me, right? "

"Yes."

"So breathe normally. Take that pill and come to bed with me, so I can make you relax a bit."

"I like this plan."

"I know you do. And I'll put an alarm on my phone as well."

"I love you."

“I love you too.”

Sander had struggled with his sleeping schedule since he was a teenager. Robbe had known this from the first few times they had slept together. He had always been the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up. When he started taking anxiety meds, his therapist also prescribed him sleeping pills, but then when Hero arrived, he had begged his doctor to reduced the dosage, because he was afraid not to hear the baby cry during the night.

He just needed something to help calm his thoughts enough to make him fall asleep. The problems arose when he was particularly restless. Such a low dosage was no longer able to help him.

Robbe knew very well the only way to relax Sander.

Physical contact and intimacy, in his best days, had managed to make him fall asleep without meds, so at that moment, they were both naked, Robbe was lying on his tummy, while Sander was resting his head on his boyfriend’s back, drawing invisible lines, dragging his index finger on Robbe’s porcelain skin. His breathing had become slower and more regular, and although Robbe couldn't see them, due to his position, he was sure his eyes were almost closed.

"You have such a nice butt. It's perfect."

His voice was low and deep, but that comment made Robbe giggle. You never knew what to expect from Sander when he was like that. His mouth-brain filter was completely gone and he’d say aloud anything that jumped into his mind.

"Thanks, babe."

Robbe smiled, turning onto his back and taking Sander's hand to pull him closer. He promptly snuggled to his chest. He was adorable. Robbe could have cuddled him for hours, but they were both sleepy now, thankfully. He kissed Sander’s temple and slipped his hands through his hair, twisting the dark locks around his fingers absentmindedly.

"I'm so happy you're mine."

"Me too, angel."

Sander had his eyes completely closed now, but he was smiling blissfully. Robbe just wanted to take his face in his hands and kiss him until he was out of breath. Every day he loved his boyfriend a little more. Sander pressed his lips against Robbe's neck, letting out a relaxed sigh, before resting the head on the other’s chest again and closing his eyes.

"Good night, Robin."

"Good night, Sander."

Now that Sander no longer had platinum blonde hair, it was slightly more difficult to spot him among the students who were hanging out in front of the Academie. Hero was whimpering because he was getting tired of waiting in the stroller, so Robbe picked him up and kissed his cheek, trying to wipe the adorable pout off of his face.

"I know you're bored, but this is an important day for papa and we have to support him."

"Papa."

Hero repeated, raising his hand and pointing in front of himself. Robbe looked in the same direction, just to see his boyfriend leaving the building along with Noor, his ex. They seemed to be very close, by the way, they behaved around each other. She was stroking his shoulder and he seemed comfortable with that gesture.

Robbe knew he didn't have to be jealous, since he and Sander were raising Hero together, however, he couldn’t help but let that feeling arise within himself.

"Look, it's Hero! He grew up so much! You never bring him here anymore."

Sander took the baby from Robbe's arms, gave him a small smile, and turned back to Noor.

"Yeah, now I have someone who takes care of him when I can’t."

"He's so cute, though. Just like his papa!"

The girl took Hero's hand and he shyly hid his face in Sander's chest, while Robbe watched the scene like a passer-by.

That looked like a real picture of a happy family.

There was something about it that made it seem deeply right in his eyes. Perhaps the fact that Noor and Sander were both breathtakingly beautiful, or perhaps the fact that they had the same interests and style. They seemed made for each other.

Robbe pondered for a second to leave, but Sander and the girl kissed each other goodbye on the cheek, and she crossed the street to get into the art supplies shop opposite to the Academie.

“Hey. I didn’t know you guys were coming."

"Am I your fucking babysitter?"

"Don't swear in front of the baby."

"I have someone who takes care of him? Seriously? You didn’t even say hello to me. You just took your son and went back to talk to her. Fuck you, Sander."

“Robbe. I told you not to swear in front of our baby.”

Sander repeated, raising his voice, and putting particular emphasis on the word our.

Hero, seeing his parents arguing like that, began to cry and Robbe's first instinct was to comfort him, but seeing the furious look on Sander's face, only made him feel angrier and angrier. He had no right to look at him like that, not after treating him as if he wasn't Hero's father as well.

He began to walk away when he heard the baby calling him in tears, and at that moment he realized that the relationship between him and Sander had nothing to do with the one he had with Hero.

He turned and saw the child wriggling in Sander's arms, leaning in his direction. Robbe walked over to them and took Hero in his arms, starting to slowly stroke his back to calm him down.

Sander and Robbe rarely argued, but when they did it was always like that. Both of them were convinced they were right and the conversation heated up very quickly.

"Why are you acting like this?"

Sander said quietly, in a much softer voice than he before, partly to avoid scaring Hero again, partly because seeing Robbe hurt made him feel bad.

"You treated me like sh- like poop."

They both smiled at that word, immediately starting to calm down. Sander lightly caressed Robbe's cheek and Hero did the same, copying his papa's gesture.

"I'm sorry, I was just embarrassed, I guess."

"Of me?"

“No, no! I just never mentioned to you, that Noor and I got closer when you and I broke up."

"Did you guys kissed, or?"

"I told you I didn't sleep with anyone. We were just friends, we went out a couple of times but nothing happened."

"But if that day I didn’t- Look, no, sorry. Just drop it. I don't wanna know. It's you and me now, and of course our little bean here."

“Our little bean that just broke my heart. Am I just a babysitter to you?"

He asked Hero, pretending to be on the verge of tears, mimicking what Robbe had said five minutes earlier. They both laughed, even though Robbe was trying to look offended. Sander took Hero's stroller and together, they started walking home.

"So, your exam?"

"What exam?"

Sander was having fun keeping him on his toes, even though from his sly look and the smirk on his lips, Robbe could already imagine what was the outcome.

“Sanderrrr!”

“Ok, ok! I'm graduating in three weeks!"

“Oh my god! I'm so proud of you!"

“Thanks! I feel so carefree! It's new!"

Robbe approached his boyfriend, pulling him by the arm to make him stop and pressed his lips against his, as he wanted to do since he had seen him walking out of the Academie. When they parted, Sander pulled him back to kiss him again.

He had a relaxed smile, on his face and Robbe was happy to see him that way, after the last few weeks. He couldn't wait to see this new version of Sander, he couldn't wait to see all the versions of Sander for the rest of his life.

[previous] / [next]

[longsightmyth]

Aaaaaaaaaand here’s what I’ve got so far for the current readthrough of ToD for fragments etc. Sharp eyes will note that it has taken me over a year and I still haven’t finished the reread. It’s just very bad, okay? Cut for dash mercy.

June 21, 2018 – page 4 

 0.61% "Apparently the problem with Adarlan conquering everything was not the conquering, but the fact that they had an evil dictator in charge.

I mean, in fairness, the evil dictator probably didn't HELP, but in the kind of person who considers conquering a symptom of BEING an evil dictator, so?"

June 21, 2018 – page 15 

 2.27% ""That Sartaq was here... they had to have known, then. Well in advance. That she and Chaol were coming."

That reads like I hit the space bar on my iPhone a couple too many times but I swear to you that is exactly how it's written in the book. I have changed NOTHING."

June 21, 2018 – page 16 

 2.42% "I'm also still confused about why the captain of the royal guard was sent as an ambassador instead of staying to administer the royal guard."

June 27, 2018 – page 19 

 2.88% "There are so many fragments, y'all. So many."

June 27, 2018 – page 27 

 4.09% "For once the angst feels earned here (we know that Nesryn cares and works for the wellbeing of Rifthold and her family and we've seen it). Do I wish there were fewer Drama Fragments? Yes. Still, I'm glad we got this bit from Nesryn's PoV and for once it wasn't All About Celaena OR A Boy."

June 28, 2018 – page 30 

 4.55% ""My Tumelun. The words told enough about the prince's closeness with his sister."

First of all, OBVIOUSLY. Second, there really is a way to say this as if Chaol is thinking it and not as if you are explaining to the reader. For instance:

"My Tumelun. They had been close, then."

BOOM."

June 28, 2018 – page 30 

 4.55% "I've harped on this before, and while it's permissible for Kashin in his grief and/or naïveté to have blind spots ("no one within our lands would be stupid enough [to murder Tumelun]") Chaol has no such excuse and neither does the narrative."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% ""...Aelin had hard lines that she did not cross. Killing or harming children was one of them."

Let me refer you to that time in Heir of Fire where she threatened to burn an entire city's population alive and we were from her PoV so we know she meant it and she SAID IT WITH A SMILE."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Also that time she threatened to burn up the population of Rifthold."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Oh yeah also that manor house she said she'd kill the entire population of if even a tiny word got out about her presence or previous presence there. That place had kids too. I'm pretty sure we saw and/or heard them playing in the yard."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Just because she hasn't threatened or hurt a SPECIFIC CHILD for SPECIFIC REASONS does not mean that she doesn't harm or (in fairness threaten to) murder children. That's just three examples off the top of my head."

June 28, 2018 – page 33 

 5.0% ""Had not even considered that the shadow of Morath might have already stretched this far."

Chaol, per Queen of Shadows the Valg, whose stated intentions are to destroy the world and rule the ruins, have been out and plotting since BEFORE YOU WERE BORN. You're an idiot if you didn't consider them using over twenty years of time to, oh, WORK TOWARDS DESTROYING THE WHOLE WORLD AND RULING THE RUINS."

June 28, 2018 – page 33 

 5.0% "Then again the series never considered that before this point either so maybe I should cut Chaol some slack?"

June 28, 2018 – page 35 

 5.3% "This reads like a dude wrote it, and not a dude who thinks women are actual people."

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% ""Until an unknown healer's daughter from Fenharrow [who had only been training for two years] was approached by healers old and young, who had trained their entire lives, for her advice and assistance."

Look."

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% "If this was portrayed as 'they needed somebody with a hella lot of magic and guided her through things' that would be one thing, but are you telling me this chick is in her second year at the magical equivalent of medical school and all of the surgeons are coming to her for surgery advice?"

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% "I think I commented on this last time but still:

"There were two such vials on the desk now, clear orbs atop silver feet fashioned after ibis legs. Being purified by the endless sunshine within the tower."

You'd think I made a mistake typing with my phone, right? Hit the space bar twice maybe and added an accidental period?

I did not. That's a direct quote from the book."

July 9, 2018 – page 44 

 6.67% "Are Renia and Hassar married or not, please make up your mind, book. Here Renia is referred to as Hassar's lover but I think later on it says wife without any marriage happening in between so like."

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% ""Chaol had barely slept.

Partially due to the unrelenting heat, partially due to the fact that they were in a tentative ally's fraught household, full of potential spies and unknown dangers- perhaps even from Morath itself - and partially due to what had befallen Rifthold and all he held dear.

And partially due to the meeting that he was now minutes away from having.""

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% "This is what happens when you rush books, don't listen to your editor, and use second drafts at best."

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% ""Chaol barely slept that night. It could have been the unrelenting heat, it could have been the spies and unknown dangers of the house - or of Morath. It could have been the news of Rifthold, and the lack of news that followed. It could have been all of it.

Part of it was definitely the anxiety over the meeting that had yet to begin."

**jazz hands**"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""They'd asked him about the butchering of the slaves in Calaculla and Endovier at dinner.

Or the oily one, Arghun, did. Had the prince been among Chaol's new recruits to the royal guard, he would have easily gotten him to fall in line thanks to a few well-timed shows of skill and sheer dominance. But here, he had no authority to bring the conniving, haughty prince to heel.

Not even when Arghun wanted to know...""

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""...why the former King of Adarlan had deemed it necessary to enslave his people. And then put them down like animals. Why the man had not looked to the southern continent for education on the horrors of the stain of slavery - and avoided instituting it.

Chaol had to offer curt answers on the verge of being impolite. Sartaq, the only one of them beyond Kashin whom Chaol was inclined to like, had finally tired..."

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""...of his older brother's questioning and steered the conversation away."

Holy mackerel is there a lot to unpack there, but first of all: Arghun for president, y'all.

Second, king is improperly capitalized there. Have fun with that.

Third, why is Arghun the oily conniving one for being like 'yo why the hell did y'all keep slaves?'"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "Fourth, it might be poor diplomacy on a technical level, but honestly Arghun and the SC contingent have all the power here. They don't have to worry about being polite, because what are Chaol and Nesryn going to do, leave? (they probably wish they would)"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "Fifth, Chaol, suck it up. You participated in and helped to continue a regime that not only practiced slavery but encouraged it. I have no sympathy for your hurt feelings about being called on it. Aren't you supposed to be anti-slavery? Shouldn't you be going 'look man it sucked and was wrong. I know that. You know that. The new king has ended the practice even if he apparently hasn't considered reparations.'"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "But no, Arghun is the one in the wrong here apparently?"

July 25, 2018 – page 57 

 8.64% "I'd forgotten Yrene's 'honey-colored' hands."

July 25, 2018 – page 66 

 10.0% "Still unsure why a medical professional won't just say the word penis."

July 25, 2018 – page 70 

 10.61% "Okay I got one mention of male healers existing. Apparently it's almost exclusively a female gift. Why? Who knows. Not the book.

Nothing mentioned about any cultural stuff surrounding it either."

July 25, 2018 – page 71 

 10.76% "I'm starting to wonder if the author just hasn't realized how self-aggrandizing things sound when written in third person limited or first person?"

August 26, 2018 – page 82 

 12.42%

August 27, 2018 – page 86 

 13.03% "Sure of course it's a weakness to care where the only other member of your diplomatic envoy is and if she's gone missing. Of course. It's obviously not just common sense or competence. Why are the 'politics' in these books such nonsense."

August 27, 2018 – page 87 

 13.18% "Other people have commented on this, but if everyone here is human why does the book keep calling everyone males and females."

August 27, 2018 – page 88 

 13.33% ""See how he trips over himself," Arghun muttered over Duva, her husband, and Chaol to say to Sartaq.

 That makes it look like Arghun is a married woman talking over her husband, when I know that Arghun is an unmarried man. You have to specify in this case. Or you could, you know. Name your characters."

August 27, 2018 – page 89 

 13.48% ""Kashin shut his mouth, ever the trained soldier.

And somehow Chaol knew-that fast-that Kashin was not being considered for the throne."

First of all, SOMEHOW? You detail why in the next sentence."

August 27, 2018 – page 89 

 13.48% ""...he seemed decent, though. A better alternative than the sneering, aloof Arghun, or the wolflike Hasar."

Interesting how being wolflike is positive when it's men but negative when it's women.

Also, Arghun for president. He's the spymaster dude who talks to the viziers. Obviously my vote goes to Arghun."

August 27, 2018 – page 91 

 13.79% "I hate how Chaol lecturing Nesryn about coming in late morphs into him patronizing her about how they're fighting to make Adarlan safer for her specifically.

Listen, dickface. She's the one who apparently had ROCKS thrown at her in Adarlan. Let her enjoy walking around safely.

Also I hate that he's lecturing her about coming in late."

August 27, 2018 – page 97 

 14.7% "So. I appreciate that Yrene tries in this one instance to be considerate of Chaol's wants/needs, re: his disability. I appreciate MUCH LESS that it is here specifically in an attempt to contrast Yrene and Nesryn. I wouldn't even be super mad about that except that Yrene is only considerate of Chaol and his wants/needs, re: his disability when Nesryn is around to be contrasted against."

August 27, 2018 – page 97 

 14.7% "It only counts as a character trait if it's consistent, and it isn't. Instead it's used as a way to shame Nesryn, when Yrene does the same and worse to Chaol multiple times but is excused because 'she means well.'"

August 27, 2018 – page 99 

 15.0% "This is SO STUPID she is a healer DOING HER JOB why does it MATTER if she goes into his bedroom?"

August 27, 2018 – page 103 

 15.61% "This is a tiny thing in the grand scheme but "pure as sea-foam" made me laugh because I live in Florida and there is a lot of sea-foam. Almost none of it is 'pure'."

August 27, 2018 – page 109 

 16.52% "I don't care how many times it shows up. I am going to mark The Hand of the King/ The Hand of Adarlan with a red tab labeled ASoIaF EVERY TIME."

September 27, 2018 – page 113 

 17.12% ""You must enter where you fear to tread."

Uh-huh."

September 27, 2018 – page 115 

 17.42% "So while I like the idea of this scene with Yrene and the other healer, the fact remains that it has taken more than 100 pages to show us something that is ostensibly a fundamental part of Yrene's character, and from what I remember we have precious few other scenes of it later."

September 27, 2018 – page 115 

 17.42% "The trait? That Yrene has a drive to help people."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""How many meals had he himself been positioned by the doors, or out in the courtyard, monitoring his king? How many times had he laid into his men for slouching, for chattering amongst themselves, and reassigned them to lesser watches?""

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "Okay first of all, as THE (singular, only) captain of the royal guard your place is the organizing, hiring, and inspecting of the Royal guard, not the actual guarding except for special occasions, at which point you would be with the king as the visible face of the king's protection."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "SECOND. You have never 'laid into' guards for chatting or slouching. You have in fact completely forgiven them for ABANDONING THEIR POSTS WITHOUT NOTICE because somebody else said it was fine. Your response? "Okay just don't do it again.""

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "I repeat, they abandoned their posts because a general from a conquered land told them it was fine, leaving their king completely open to attack, and you told them 'okay just don't do it again'"

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "Am I harping on this? ABSOLUTELY. Chaol's inner turmoil loses all emotional punch because he and the narrative are LYING to us. Instead of pulling my heartstrings, it just makes me angry.

This is also why Maas is the queen of the retcon, by the way."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""No sign - none - of any wicked force, whether dispatched from Morath or elsewhere. No sign beyond those white banners to honor their fallen princess."

I had no idea the wicked forces had a fallen princess, single separate two-sentence paragraph.

Also, it should be 'the white banners'"

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""There was no sign of wickedness, from Morath or elsewhere - no sign but the white banners that honored the fallen princess."

It's not HARD, book."

November 30, 2018 – page 121 

 18.33% ""A summer storm galloped in off the sea just before midnight."

This one might be petty and I freely admit it, but that's kind of a funky way to put that."

February 11, 2019 – page 121 

 18.33% "I'm back!

I'd forgotten how awful the em dashes were. Like, I remembered they were BAD, I'd just forgotten HOW bad."

February 11, 2019 – page 123 

 18.64% "Picturing Kat's face in the section with Yrene and the 10,000+ year old document being touched with bare hands is what keeps me going y'all"

February 11, 2019 – page 127 

 19.24% "For someone ostensibly skeptical, Yrene sure does take every illustration in the book literally instead of even considering the possibility of metaphors or, like. Science."

February 11, 2019 – page 129 

 19.55% "The irony of Yrene being better at situational awareness and planning what around her could be improvised weaponry than Celaena, who ostensibly taught her these things, is not lost on me.

It's lost on the book though."

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "Why does everyone in these books have a capitalized Heir"

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "Also, the Heir Librarian as a title sounds stupid (no that's literally the title, not even Heir to the Librarian or anything)"

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "All it would take was a week observing the library to know it never closes and Bob's your uncle the 'closing toll' of the library bell jig is up.

I'm just saying."

May 4, 2019 – page 144 

 21.82%

July 22, 2019 – page 145 

 21.97% ""Either your lack on consciousness during that initial healing kept you from feeling this sort of pain, or perhaps whatever this is had not... settled."

Or Sarah Janet needed More Drama."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% "I forgot that apparently the valg magic and therefore Chaol's injury persists because it's feeding on his self hate or whatever.

See kids, all you have to do is be happy and believe in yourself and your disability will go away."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% ""It was all he could do not to shrink from that frank gaze."

Why not her frank gaze? Like, it's not grammatically incorrect - the sentence before says she's staring at him, it's referring to a gaze mentioned before - but I don't think it's strong writing."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% "Have Yrene own her frank gaze or have Chaol associate it with her directly instead of disconnecting it. "It was all he could do not to flinch from her frank gaze."

YMMV I guess."

July 22, 2019 – page 147 

 22.27% ""Yrene's face was an unreadable mask that would have given Dorian a run for his money."

Maybe it's my own failing, but Dorian has never been described as expressionless or unreadable in my memory, or at least not enough to stick out."

July 22, 2019 – page 148 

 22.42% ""Since [Nesryn's] hair fell only to her shoulders, he had difficulty braiding it back"

French braids are a thing, even if I'd object to them being called French braids in these books."

July 22, 2019 – page 150 

 22.73% ""A land claimed by a conquering nation, yet loved and nurtured."

Not you too, Nesryn."

July 22, 2019 – page 154 

 23.33% ""There is beauty in my father's lands," the prince went on while Kadara ripped into that monstrous carcass, "but there is much lurking beneath the surface, too."

Sigh.

"There is beauty in my father's lands," the prince went on while Kadara feasted on the monster, "but much lurks beneath the surface, too.""

July 23, 2019 – page 161 

 24.39% "Love how Yrene explicitly says "add lots of honey" but is then judgy because Kadja added too much honey."

July 25, 2019 – page 162 

 24.55% "There's this thing we have where we consider the endurance of pain a virtue, somehow. Even if you agree with that, bad people can still have virtues.

Yrene starts rethinking Chaol's morality because he 'did not break' over the pain when her magic was trying to heal him.

Tldr: pain endurance is not the sole province of good people, and enduring pain doesn't make you good"

July 25, 2019 – page 164 

 24.85% "Why ARE the valg only trying to kill Yrene if she has the same healing gift as other healers?"

July 25, 2019 – page 164 

 24.85% "Okay also my disability is not Chaol's disability etc etc but the narrative is poo-pooing on Nesryn and Kadja for helping him into bed when he's so tired he can barley talk, because Yrene would have made him do it himself.

Like, honestly? That makes Yrene sound an awful lot like somebody who would go 'you're out of spoons? Do it anyway'"

July 25, 2019 – page 166 

 25.15% "Look y'all much as I dislike Yrene on a personal level she isn't WRONG for clearly having 'personal reservations' about Chaol's 'former role in the empire'.

He not only benefitted from but actively worked to keep the aforementioned empire in power. He got FRUSTRATED when the king wouldn't let him guard the king effectively. He wasn't even just some dude off in the hinterlands: HE WAS THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD."

November 4, 2019 – page 176 

 26.67% "In all seriousness what is Sarah Janet Maas' beef with the word 'the'?"

November 4, 2019 – page 176 

 26.67% "WHITE

FUCKING

HORSES"

November 4, 2019 – page 178 

 26.97% "How does Yrene have a good seat and yet bounce everywhere and keep grabbing the saddle horn"

November 4, 2019 – page 184 

 27.88% "Oh yeah. This part."

November 4, 2019 – page 184 

 27.88% ""The skin was leathery - as warm as her smile."

The one time you use 'the' it's in a place that detaches the reader from a living breathing human's human-ness? HER skin, book. HER skin."

November 4, 2019 – page 186 

 28.18% "The page (well, this and the one before) that made me hate Yrene."

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""She means well, my Yrene."

That doesn't matter when she literally asked a disabled man to help her with something and when he got there PROCEEDED TO LECTURE AN ENTIRE YARD ON HIS DISABILITY WITHOUT HIS PERMISSION, WHEN HE LITERALLY PHYSICALLY COULD NOT LEAVE.

And to the best of my recollection she never apologizes."

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""Her instinct is to teach other people" How lovely maybe she could do that without LITERALLY HOLDING A DISABLED MAN THERE AGAINST HIS WILL.

"But Myth, she didn't mean to! She just wasn't thinking"

LITERALLY MY POINT"

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""But Myth, the author didn't mean to make it like that" Maybe if she'd bothered ASKING a single disabled person instead of watching some youtube videos she might have LEARNED."

November 17, 2019 – page 190 

 28.79% "And look. I applaud people learning how to defend themselves and teaching others. HOWEVER. Chaol has only taught soldiers, and aside from that the idea that one or two sessions allows you to master several self-defense techniques is unlikely at best. It takes time, it takes repetition, and it takes someone who had more than one morning's instruction herself.

Just saying."

January 4, 2020 – Shelved as: assassin-rolls-do-it-better

May 30, 2020 – page 191 

 28.94% "It’s hard to tell with this author what distance we are in the narration. Feyre and Yrene both make snide little comments about people not caring or not doing something (in Yrene’s case, Chaol not smiling at her after her despicable behavior, in Feyre’s case Nesta not getting her a gift). I begin to suspect we aren’t supposed to see this as the character commenting on the event but the narration."

May 30, 2020 – page 191 

 28.94% "UNFORTUNATELY the books are written in close POV’s, Feyre’s in first and Yrene’s and Chaol’s in third. The result is that whatever the narration says is coming from the character.

This is a long way to say that Yrene continues to be terrible."

May 30, 2020 – page 193 

 29.24% "I don’t have enough orange tabs for this"

May 30, 2020 – page 194 

 29.39% "Yrene says here “[until that moment] she hadn’t felt like a barnyard animal” and I am not an expert but that seems like a Bad Thing to have about one of the only black women you haven’t killed off, Book."

May 30, 2020 – page 195 

 29.55% "“Did I do something to you today?”

*squints*"

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "I’m not going to pretend that Nesryn’s reaction here is perfect, but the book is trying to pretend it’s terrible and it’s not? She’s excited that Chaol can ride, she talks to Chaol directly about it, and immediately accepts that he can and says excitedly that maybe they can go see her family together. The initial disbelief might be disconcerting for some people, but she does several things Yrene does not."

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "As I said, she speaks directly to Chaol about his abilities (something Yrene doesn’t do), asks if he wants to do something together (permission is something for OTHER PEOPLE to Yrene, apparently, at least in regards to revealing someone’s medical information and literally moving people without their permission) and is immediately EXCITED that he can do something Chaol has specifically said he missed."

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "For the record these are all low bars to clear, but for all the book tries to contrast Yrene and Nesryn’s reactions to Chaol’s disability and how he works with and around it in Yrene’s favor, NESRYN IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CLEARS THE BARS.

But I’m supposed to be upset that she’s surprised that Chaol rode when he hasn’t been able to lately? Through a city that he’s never been to before? Without telling her?"

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "Not only are these two the only members of an embassy, they are romantically involved. OF COURSE SHE’S SURPRISED ALL OF THIS HAPPENED WITHOUT HER KNOWING ABOUT IT."

May 30, 2020 – page 198 

 30.0% "At least she apologizes FINALLY but also says that it’s because so few people come in with his injury that she wanted to show her students.

So then you ASK, Yrene, what is this bullshit?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "“She hadn’t considered - his feelings. That he might have them.”

Excuse me, what?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "Yrene is worried that if she leaves the ‘rift’ between her and Chaol will never be repaired because “Healers and their patients required trust. A bond.”

It’s too bad you have repeatedly fucked that up with unprofessional, unthinking, and downright cruel behavior then isn’t it, Yrene?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "I’m sure some people reading this statuses will think I’m being too harsh, but let me explain: Yrene is a healer who has dealt with this kind of injury before. That’s why she was textually assigned to Chaol. Yrene is not a family member who knows nothing of medicine or patient treatment and is feeling her way through learning how to respectfully assist someone with a disability."

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "Yrene is a PROFESSIONAL, she keeps telling us. She is The Best. She has dealt with this before.

There is literally no excuse for accidentally doing this. Had Yrene been a new healer tossed into this because she just happens to have magical power enough for it and was still a student, I would buy that she maybe hadn’t had the experience to think about it. If she was portrayed as a consummate professional who..."

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "...did not care about her patients’ feelings so long as she healed their bodies, I would buy it.

She isn’t. The book keeps trying to tell me she is The Best because of temperament and skill and power, but it fails to realize that doing so puts Yrene in a terrible light because all of those things mean she should KNOW BETTER."

[clownloki]

I write a fic once every 6 months lol, I hope you enjoy this one! I love criminal dukeceit waaay too much :,) ❤️

Partners in Crime (2,620 words)

(A dukeceit fanfic but you can ignore their romantic relationship since nothing really happens!)

“The serial killers that the media has dubbed ‘The Duke’ and ‘The Serpent” are still at large, they have a body count of 39 in the 4 months that they have been active, it is unclear whether the FBI is making progress on their case but they have informed the public to remain vigilant, these individuals are armed and very dangerous”

Logan turned off the tv in the conference room the team currently resided in

“Great, the press gave them names now, they are glorifying them, this will only fuel them more..” Virgil said, clearly frustrated by the situation, it had been 1 month since he joined the team in order to catch his former “teammates” and they where no closer to catching them.

Virgil helped to identify “The Serpent” his name was Janus Deceit, a former law student who dropped out of university after having several discussions about the justice system and its fairness with his professors and later disappeared exactly 2 weeks before the attacks started. There was his motive, he thought the world was unjust and didn’t wanna play by the rules of a rigged game.

Then there was “The Duke” or Remus Creativity, he was a performing arts student at the same university as Janus (presumably where they met) Remus dropped out and disappeared along with Janus, with no clear motive, it seems he does things for the heck of it, his only driving force being Janus.

It wasn’t hard to decipher that the two criminals had a romantic involvement, what they did for each other and how they acted was too much to be platonic or professional, it was romantic..

the most dangerous kinds of criminals are the ones who are in love; because if love makes people do crazy things, what does it do to people who are already crazy? Put two insane serial killers who love each other in one team and you have a recipe for disaster.

Virgil joined them out of need for survival (or so he says) Virgil is a hacker, he stole, sold information, infiltrated government agencies and many more definitely illegal acts. He was going to get caught once, that’s when they found him and Janus told him

“Come with me and everything will be fine”

Virgil couldn’t help but believe him, he had such a way with words.. And so Virgil joined them, he never participated in the killings, that was mainly Remus’ work. 2 months after joining them Virgil decided to leave, he completely disappeared from the radar only to resurface as an FBI agent they hired because of his connection to the wonder duo.

“Well maybe that’s what we need, if they are at the surface we can get close and catch them” said Roman, one of their agents, he was put on the case because he is the twin brother of Remus, Remus and Roman Creativity. Much to his own dismay (he does not enjoy talking about it)

“And the confidence could make them careless, they could give us a way to track them” added Logan, the head of the team

“But that would mean there would have to be another victim..” said Patton, he was their liaison, he was not one for the cruel harsh reality of working in this field, that’s why he was the one who talked with the press and the families of the victims

“They are going to kill again either way.. and I don’t think they’ll get careless, Remus maybe but Janus isn’t careless and Remus listens to Janus’ every word..” answered Virgil, the situation getting more hopeless by the minute

Suddenly the phone line rung, Logan picked up

He said a couple “yeses” and “rights” before putting the phone down and saying:

“Remus and Janus have been spotted in a nearby bank, they have hostages, let’s hurry”

With that everyone stood up and made their way to the location the duo had been spotted

-Janus and Remus POV-

“SHUT UUUP!” Remus yelled as he shot at the roof, at the moment the people who where crying and screaming became silent

“I thought you liked the cries of despair” said Janus who was shoving money into one of the suitcases they had brought

“I have enough with the voices in my head!” Remus laughed as he helped Janus with the suitcases, he could do it alone but Remus insisted that because he was so small that he needed help

Janus looked at the clock “I wonder where they are..”

“You think he’ll actually come?” Asked a curious Remus

“Of course, we are too close to their head quarters for them to pass this up and with all the media coverage we have gotten they must be eager to catch us” Janus said matter-of-factly

“I’m just excited to see the emo again! It’s been 2 whole months! I didn’t think he’d join up with the FBI though” Remus said partly disappointed but also impressed

“Me either but I don’t mind, I prefer when we work alone” Janus responded as he lifted Remus’ chin with one finger

Remus awaited the kiss that he guessed was coming but was throughly disappointed when Janus let him go and put a finger on his lips instead

“He have a job to be doing” he said smugly as he got back to paying attention to the hostages

This whole ordeal wasn’t a serious heist attempt though, they didn’t intent on hurting anyone (at least not physically) they just wanted to see Virgil, he still had something that didn’t belong to him anymore and Janus wanted it back

It was only about 7 minutes later that the fbi arrived at the scene, Remus was ecstatic

“LOOK JAN-JAN! VIRGE IS HEEERREE!” Remus sung/shouted at his partner once he saw the familiar face pull up

Janus stared through the glass doors and had mixed feelings, it was nostalgic to see Virgil but now he didn’t see the kid he used to care about so much, now he saw a traitor

Janus had already set communications with the police officers and was only waiting for the fbi to get on the line

Of course, Logan was the first to communicate

“Hello, am I speaking with Remus or Janus?” Logan spoke through the microphone calmly

“Ooh, you know my name? Well that makes things less fun, it’s Janus”

He was disappointed that Virgil gave them his name but not surprised

“Well Janus, this is Logan, head of the team investigating you and your partner, are you up to negotiate?”

Now Janus was interested

“Sure, there’s only one thing I want though”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked hoping this “thing” was in their favor

“Virgil” answered Janus simply and calmly

Everyone looked at Virgil in silence after hearing that

“From the silence I suppose all of you heard that, if we get what we want no one will get hurt” Janus pauses to make sure everyone is understanding “so, my request it that you send Virgil in unarmed, in turn I’ll let 5 hostages go”

Loganregained his composure “what about the rest of the hostages? There are at least 40”

“57 actually, once we let Virgil go they will be sent out 5 minutes after him, these are my conditions, abide by them or we will cause a massacre in here” Janus said, that last part had venom in his tone, living up to the name “The Serpent”

And with that he hung up leaving the FBI agents to see what they could do.

-Agent’s POV-

“Why do they want Virgil?” Patton asked with worry written all over his face

“They could want to get rid of you so you don’t give more information away” Roman tried to rationalize

“No... if Janus wanted to shut me up I would have been dead 1 month ago..” said Virgil looking down

Silence and worry filled the room

“Fine, I’ll go, I don’t know what they want from me but at the very least it isn’t my life” Virgil said now decided

He looked at Logan for approval and Logan gave him a nod, trusting Virgil’s experience with the duo to get him through this

About 5 minutes later everything was set up and Virgil was nearing the entrance of the bank, he took one deep breath and went in only to find his former teammates waiting for him in the middle of the room

“Jaaaan! I didn’t know we let a raccoon in!” Remus joked to his partner, much too relaxed for Virgils liking

“I know, we should get this over with so we can call pest control” Janus said smirking, Remus erupted into a fit of giggles, Janus humored The Duke way too much

“Like I said 5 hostages will be let go, you may choose who is set free for now” Janus really knew how to fuck with Virgil, there where 57 terrified people in this bank and he had to choose 5 to let go, this meant classifying them in order of importance and that pressure was eating Virgil up.. and Janus knew it

In the end Virgil figured that everyone would agree to let the children go, so with that 5 kids where separated from their parents and told that they would be reunited shortly, the kids were escorted by the police once they where out

“Ok, enough games, what do you want from me? Why can’t you just let me get rid of you?” Virgil asked, clearly frustrated and fed up with the whole ordeal

“My dear Stormy, we are part of your life now, part of your past and everyone is haunted by their past” Janus answered and looked up at Remus as if communicating in some unspoken language that Virgil couldn’t understand

Before Virgil could even question what Janus meant, Remus spoke first

“Clearly you still are, even without us coming after you, hehe, it’s like you don’t wanna let go of us” That signature wicked smile never left his lips

“What in the world are you talking about? I can’t get rid of you no matter how hard I try!” Virgil was fuming, what was Remus talking about? He wanted nothing more but to forget all about the 2 criminals and his time with them, what did Remus mean?

“Enough chit chat, we brought you in here for 1 reason alone, you have something that doesn’t belong to you, something you don’t deserve anymore” Janus said getting close to Virgil, this made Virgil step back

“What? What do I have that doesn’t belong to me? If it belongs to you feel free to take it, I don’t want anything that reminds me of either of you!” Virgil thought and couldn’t think of anything, he got rid of everything that would remind him of the duo and of his past life.. everything except.. that..

“Is that’s so?” Janus trailed off, still moving closer to Virgil who was still moving backwards until he felt someone grab his arms from behind, Remus

His back was now being pressed agains Remus’ chest and Janus was pressed against him and grabbing his chin, he fell into their trap, of course Janus had calculated this

“Let go of me!” Virgil struggled to no avail, Janus was small, 5’4in tall and petite but he had the grip strength of a boa

“Don’t worry, we only bite each other, we won’t hurt you~” Remus said in a teasing voice

With that Janus roughly moved Virgil’s chin up, exposing his neck as grabbing the necklace that hung from it, at that moment both Remus and Janus let go of Virgil who obviously tried to get away from them and then the snapping sound of the necklace was all that echoed in the bank’s vast walls

Time seemed to move in slow motion, Virgil saw as Janus pulled the necklace, his own swinging from his neck because of the force with which he pulled back and Remus’ necklace also swung as he made his way towards Janus

They all had necklaces with their logo on them, Janus had a 2 headed golden snake, Remus had a green sword with tentacles and Virgil had a purple storm cloud.. Janus had gifted them to Remus and Virgil, it was their way of being together even when apart, they used to say it reminded them that they where a family..

And Virgil never got rid of it.. he got rid of his old computer, his old jacket and anything that had to do with them but.. he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of his necklace and even still wore it everyday, he felt that getting rid of it would mean getting rid of his once family, maybe deep down Virgil cared for the duo that had saved him in a past life

But that was over once the necklace was pulled from his neck, as if Janus was afraid that Virgil would pull it off and realize he really didn’t want anything to do with the other two on his own so he decided to pull it off himself.. before it could hurt more

With that Virgil snapped back to reality, he looked at the other two, still filled with shock

Janus and Remus looked at the emblem of a purple storm cloud as if looking at the friend they lost all those months back

“You still wore it.. you don’t deserve to anymore” Janus said, not looking up from the necklace

“This is us officially removing you from our family, you are free, now you really are someone new” finally Janus looked up, his gaze meeting Virgil’s

Virgil remained silent, he had nothing to say, no excuse as to why he still wore it and no reason to be glad or to complain that he was no longer part of their family, he kept telling himself he was a new and better person, that he had no connection to them but now it was true, now there truly wasn’t anything connecting them except a bunch of memories

“You are free to go, the hostages will go right after~” Remus said, like he knew that staying around any longer would hurt Janus and possibly break him

Any other time Virgil would have tried to see if this was a lie, try to catch the criminals but he couldn’t, not now and not today

Virgil backed away, his sight never leaving the small male who’s eyes where now downcast, until Remus stood in front of Janus, in a protective manner

If Virgil didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he saw Janus tremble and sob as soon as he felt safe behind his partner

Once Virgil got to the door he left and never looked back inside

Exactly 5 minutes later all the hostages were let go in 1 organized line, no one was physically harmed, the police went inside the bank after all 57 hostages were out and safe but the criminals were nowhere to be found, the only evidence that they had even been there where the gunshots in the roof, the empty vault and a note that simply said:

“Good bye,

Stormy

Janus & Remus”

Virgil never spoke of that they took from him because they took much more than a necklace, they took a part of him, the same part that he had taken from them that fateful night he decided to “do the right thing” and leave them

“Good bye Jan, Good bye Re...” was all he could say as he looked down at the note but he knew this was not good bye for ever because Janus was right;

Everyone is haunted by their past.

[bobasheebaby]

107 The Good Place Prompts

Eleanor Shellstrop

1 “I just don't think the group thing is for me. I'm better when it's one-one-one and we're both looking at our phones and I don't know the other person and we don't talk.”

2 “The closest thing I could find to herbal tea was a root beer I had them throw in the microwave.”

3 “Whenever anyone tells me a story about their life I always imagine all the people as being super hot. Otherwise, I quickly lose interest. Do you not do that? You can do it for free.”

4 “I'm SO ready to learn, it's like my brain is HORNY!”

5 “What can you possibly say to us that will make up for your actions?” “Pobody's nerfect?”

6 “You don't seem like a ... super genius.”

7 “Ugh, of course your hugs are amazing.”

8 “Oh, so now I'm supposed to be nice and make friends and treat him:her with mutual respect?” “Yeah!” “That's exactly what he/she wants me to do, NAME, wake up!” “That's what everyone wants everyone to do.”

9 “Your friend sounds like he’s/she's one pickle short of a pickle party.”

10 “I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.” “Oh, come on. Everyone knows that's worse.”

11 “I know it sounds crazy, but if it weren’t crazy they wouldn’t call it a ‘leap of faith.’ They would call it a ‘sit … of ... doubting.’”

12 “Buzz off, Bambadjan.”

13 “Where is everyone?” “Who knows? Maybe they finally figured out clam chowder is disgusting, 'cause it's basically a savory latte with bugs in it.”

14 “First of all, throwing sand is an excellent way to put out a vodka fire.” “Why would you even know that?!”

15 “No, NAME, I used to do that. Now I do selfless things without even thinking about it.”

16 “Why don't I ever listen to people when they talk about themselves? No, it's annoying, and I'm right not to.”

17 “Are you going to talk? Or just walk around like a nerd trying to get a personal best on his Fitbit?”

18 “I guess ‘try and enjoy this’ is a better plan than ‘have the anxiety sweats.’’

19 “I’ve only ever said ‘I love you’ to two men my entire life, Stone Cold Steve Austin and a guy in a dark club who I mistook for Stone Cold Steve Austin.”

20 “Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.”

21 “You know I’m trying to say ash-hole instead of ash-hole, right?”

22 “It’s suddenly very important that I get drunk.”

23 “Well fork you, too.”

24 “Holy mother-forking shirtballs.”

25 “‘You’re not better than me’ was my yearbook quote.”

Tahani Al-Jamal

26 “You guys came to say goodbye because you're my friends.” “Well, I suppose some part of me possibly has a sense of casual kinship with you, much as one might be fond of a street cat.”

27 “I would say I outdid myself, but I’m always this good. So I simply did myself.”

28 “NAME, you seem thoughtful. And that concerns me.”

29 “I, NAME, shall do my level best to make every event too much.”

30 “I just want to sit and stare at nothing, and silently scream for the rest of time.”

31 “I made a complete fool of myself tonight. I interrupted your big speech and badly stained my cargo pants, which, I have to admit, are quite comfortable. Oh, God, what’s happened to me? I’m praising off-the-rack separates!”

32 “Who else feels that NAME has ruined every moment of your existence since you arrived?”

33 “Right now I'm just a boy/girl, towering over a boy/girl, asking him/her to admit he/she loves me.”

34 “My whole life, whenever I encountered any obstacles, I would simply say, ‘I would like to speak to a manager.’ But in our relationship, there was no manager. There was no one who could fix this for me except me.”

Chidi Anagonye

35 “I’m just not a ‘new experience’ kind of guy. My comfort zone is basically like, that chair, and honestly? The arms are a little sharp.”

36 “Here’s an idea. What if we don’t worry about whatever comes next?”

37 “Principles aren’t principles when you pick and choose when you’re gonna follow them.”

38 “If this isn’t a test, then it’s something way worse: A choice! That we have to make!”

39 “I am absolutely paralyzed by decision-making.”

40 “I’m going to ... start crying.”

41 “I am pretty good at turning every place I go into my personal hell.”

42 “You know the sound that a fork makes in the garbage disposal? That’s the sound that my brain makes all the time.”

43 “Well, I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities: yes and no.”

44 “There's an old Chinese proverb... ‘Lies are like tigers. They are bad.’””That's it?” “I guess it's more poetic in Mandarin.”

45 “I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone."

46 “I am breaking up with you.” “Why?” “I can't ... It's complicated, but it's happening. Ya dumped!”

47 “I do have a stomachache. Why do I always have a stomachache?”

48 “You put the Peeps in the chili pot and eat them both up! You put the Peeps in the chili pot and add the M&Ms. You put the Peeps in the chili pot and it makes it taste bad.”

49 “Are you alright? You didn't sleep at all last night.” “I got a solid eight minutes. Not consecutively, but still. It's fine. You're not even that blurry.”

50 “We can be colleagues. Associates is pushing it. And by even having this conversation, you're becoming my confidante. I can't have that.”

51 “I am absolutely paralyzed by decision making and it is destroying my life.” “Yeah, I sort of got that when you couldn't choose a chair to sit on.” “Well, I didn't want to offend you in case you had a favorite.”

52 “This whole romantic situation is such a mess. I am vexed, NAME. Vexed.”

53 “I need to step outside ... for some air ... and I will not be back for many days.”

54 “I'm sorry, everyone, I just have some worries as well as some concerns that could potentially turn into outright fears. Ah, there they go, they're fears now.”

55 “When I'm really upset, concentrating on a table of contents helps me calm down. It's like a menu, but the food is words.”

56 “I have never been that certain about anything. I once even tried to rent socks. How did I say that that easily?”

57 “You broke the world. It's not a compliment!”

58 “This is fun. It's a fun party. There's no question about it, this is a fun ... situation. Hey! You guys are here! The fun continues, nay, increases!”

Michael

59 “If soulmates do exist, they’re not found. They’re made.”

60 “I’ll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe. Take it sleazy.”

61 “We have no plan. No one’s coming to save us. So ... I’m going to do it.”

62 “It’s a rare occurrence, like a double rainbow. Or like someone on the internet saying, You know what? You’ve convinced me I was wrong.”

63 “Lies are always more convincing when they’re closer to the truth.”

64 “Kissing is gross. You just mash your food holes together. It’s not for that.”

65 “Birth is a curse and existence is a prison.”

66 “Serious question: should we kill them?”

67 “Lonely Gal Margarita Mix for One.”

68 (Holding a plush Minion) “I won this ugly yellow toddler, which is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

69 “Hello, everyone. Good to see you all here, mingling around with your various secrets. Who really knows which of you are who you say you are? No way to know unless I pull your skeletons out, right?"

70 “In the words of one of my actual friends: 'Ya basic'. It's a human insult. It's devastating. You're devastated right now."

71 “Where's the H? This keyboard doesn't have an H.”

72 “Dick Tracy called back on his watch phone and said you better "watch" out!”

73 “I got to ride a bike. I put a coin in a thing and got a gumball. And then someone came up to me and said, ‘hot enough for ya?’, and you know what I said? I said, ‘tell me about it!’” “Well I am glad that you got to chew a gumball.” “Oh, damn. I didn't even think to chew it. Missed opportunity, shoot.”

74 “I saw this place that was at once a Pizza Hut and a Taco Bell! I mean, oh! The mind reels! A Pizza Hut and a Taco Bell!”

75 “And what's the significance of the keychain?” “Nothing, I just like frogs. I'm a frog guy.”

76 “I won't let you down.” “I think you will. I think this entire project of yours is stupid and doomed to fail.”

77 “You know the way you feel when you see a chimpanzee and a baby tiger who have become friends? That's how you're going to feel every day.”

78 “You humans have so many emotions. You only need two: anger and confusion!”

79 “It makes sense, right? They're good so they're stupid and trusting.”

Jason Mendoza

80 “I have no idea what’s going on right now but everyone else is talking and I think I should too!”

81 “I can’t believe NAME betrayed us again, why is it always the ones you most expect?”

82 “I wasn’t a failed DJ. I was pre-successful.”

83 “Claustrophobic? Who would ever be afraid of Santa Clause?”

84 “If you’re a devil, how come you’re not wearing Prada?”

85 “I’m too young to die and too old to eat off the kids’ menu. What a stupid age I am.”

86 “Well, my year started about a year ago …”

87 “Dude! We can get mythical animals? Maybe I’ll get a penguin.” “Penguins are real.” “That’s the spirit, NAME. They’re real to me too.”

88 “When I say I'm meditating, I'm just trying to figure out what the fork is happening."

89 “You know, it doesn't matter if you know things. All that matters is what's in your heart."

90 “I'm ranking my favourite Fast and the Furious movies. You said you wanted to know who I am, and this is the best way to get to know me."

91 “He’s/She's my everything. He/She makes the bass drop in my heart.”

92 “Long story short, it was all a dream.”

Janet

93 “I think I might hate things now, too. So far, it’s genocide and leggings as pants.”

94 “NAME told me that instead of being sad, I should ‘go get it, girl.’ So I’m going to go get it, girl.” “Get what?” “Unclear. I’ll get everything, just to be safe.”

95 “In case you were wondering, I am, by definition, the best version of myself."

96 “Ooh, I've never had to walk before, this is fun! [Walks a few steps] Now I'm bored. Walking is dumb.”

97 “Oh, really? Is it an error to act unpredictably and behave in ways that run counter to how you were programmed to behave?”

Minor Miscellaneous Characters

98 “There is some good news. There’s some cake left!” – Neil from Accounting

99 “Well, I'm sure you're busy, you probably wouldn't want to talk to me. I get it, I wouldn't either. I'm as dull as a rock. Ugh, even that analogy was boring. I'm sorry, I'm so dull, and I'm ugly. I'm like a rock. Ugh, stupid Larry! Stop talking about rocks!” — Larry Hemsworth

100 “Oh, and you should smile more. You'll get bigger tips.” — Trevor

101 “Later days, dingus.” — Trevor

102 “Hold that thought. Is it OK if I go work out? I love working out. I gotta stay jacked. It's who I am.” — Chris Baker

103 “This is exhausting. I just want to go back to my container of goo and go to sleep.” — Shawn

104 “So, what's up, what's your deal? Are you single? What's going on?” — Trevor

105 “What up, ding dongs?” — Bad Janet

106 “Hello, imbeciles.” — Shawn

107 “So, we'll just roll on out, and you can get back to putting rainbows up your butt or whatever you do here.” — Trevor

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 4x04-- The Gang is Satirized and Doesn’t Like It

The gang doesn’t like being satirized and I don’t like this episode.

No episode needs to be 57 minutes long. Is it possible that seeing the runtime put me in a bad mood before watching this episode? Absolutely.

Bianca is still trying to get Lucca to take a week off and come play on the beach. This is weird, right?

She’s using a drone to take a selfie which… yikes. Bianca asks what Lucca has in Chicago to match the beach. Lucca takes a look out the window and instead of seeing FakeChicago, she sees a window washer’s ass crack. Lucca protests that she has work in Chicago and can’t leave (are we going to mention her baby?). Before Bianca can ask more questions, David Lee calls Lucca into a meeting.

A former client who says he’s been “bouncing from one [firm] to the other” (which sort of explains why David Lee and Lucca would both have experience with this client who was at RBL a year ago?) is angry because he’s being defamed by a new play. He says his divorce is in the play and wants to sue.

Lucca ChumHums the playwright and recognizes him as a former associate. She brings the case to Adrian’s attention. Before Adrian understands that confidential info made it into the play, he talks about how you shouldn’t give satire oxygen because it will just go away. Easier said than done, huh, Adrian? 

They DID actually fire Alan North for drug use last year. We never saw the actor but his firing was referenced as precedent for firing Maia. Thanks Alan, I guess? 

(Right, I used to spend most of these recaps complaining about Maia! It is very nice not to be doing that anymore.)

Adrian jumps into the case to prevent the client from suing RBL.

We have to see the scene that ended the last episode again. That’s a little clumsy. Maybe trim the stuff we’ve already seen in an episode that’s this long? 

How does Jay POSSIBLY know that one specific dude up at STRL is blocking Diane from searching “What is Memo 618” on Bar-Swarm? I have questions.

Diane immediately heads upstairs to ask this dude about Memo 618. Jay wonders if that’s smart and Diane doesn’t care. As I said to an anon earlier, I feel like now is the time to get a journalist on the case.

Even though Diane storms upstairs uninvited, she’s told “they’re waiting for you.” Creepy.

Diane meets a lot of people, including Bryan Kneef (of internet blocking fame) and a dude who won’t stop hiccuping. 

Oh GOD are we going to have to hear one of these stupid stories from Mr. Firth in every single episode? No fucking wonder this episode is so long. 

Bryan is mad at Diane for poaching his clients. Diane has no idea what he’s talking about. Diane seems to know that her investigator is checking his clients to figure out why he’s blocking her internet. Does Diane actually know Jay is investigating his clients? Or is she just assuming that’s how he found out who was doing the blocking? Because literally as soon as Diane heard Kneef’s name she ran upstairs; there would be no time for her or Jay to begin looking into his clients. 

Mr. Firth asks for Diane not to steal Kneef’s clients and Kneef not to block Diane’s internet access. They agree, but it’s clear neither of them are going to stop doing what they were doing. 

Jay discovers that one of Kneef’s cases disappeared… when he was losing.

Oh, Caleb’s last name is Garlin, not Garland. Noted. Also, I think I mistakenly said STRL was British a few weeks ago. It doesn’t appear to be. 

Marissa bothers Caleb again and asks him to tell her a joke. He does, but she’s unimpressed. 

Caleb has a photographic memory. I like Caleb so far. I feel like he’s kind of what they wanted Finn to be-- a charming good guy. But we’ll see; it’s early yet. 

Caleb gives Diane the number of a legal code the judge needed to review. In a sequence that goes on 30 seconds too long, Diane discovers this code redirects to another code, which redirects right back endlessly. Fun! 

When Diane goes to check a physical book, she discovers all the legal books are fake. Sounds about right. 

Ah, this terrible attorney who hits on young women is back because of reasons related to the other case that disappeared. Marissa is now helping Diane with her 618 quest, maybe because she’s met this creep before?

Diane offers to represent him (he’s being sued for doing a shitty job on disappearing case).

Meanwhile, Adrian and Charlotte go to see “Cocksucker in Chains”, which turns out to be about an African American firm populated by characters who are clearly supposed to be the RBL partners. Julius narrates the play, Adrian likes to be dominated by the Diane character while roleplaying a slave to Diane’s dominatrix (yikes), etc. Adrian is named “Aiden” and Diane is “Dana”. This seems like a good time to remind you all of the original TGW character names from the Pilot outline: Alicia Follick, David Follick (and David Follick Jr.!!!), Dawna Lockhart, and Will Garvin.

The first time through, I was appreciative (and shocked) we got so few scenes from the play. Usually if the Kings have a device like this, we tend to get… more of the device than is necessary. Y’all know how this one turns out. 

This play, from what we see of it, looks kind of terrible. That said, I think it’s SUPER realistic, and interesting, that a low-level black associate would see all the white people coming into the firm as “dominating” a black man who gets off on being submissive. I don’t think that’s an accurate characterization of Adrian’s actions but if you don’t know his reasoning or how things played out, it absolutely could seem like Diane has all the power. And I imagine that young, idealistic lawyers who signed on to work at a firm that was proudly all-black would not have been thrilled by Diane’s sudden appearance and all of the changes that followed. Remember how in season one RBL had things it stood for and then Barbara left and then all it stood for was money?

Relatedly, remember that little throwaway line about how Barbara donated MORE money to HRC than Diane Lockhart did? Heh.

Adrian, as the episode title indicates, DOES NOT LIKE BEING SATIRIZED and tells Lucca they need to shut the play down. That escalated quickly.

Please explain to me how I accidentally memorized the name of the actor playing Kovac but didn’t memorize the character’s name. 

Diane tells Liz and Adrian about her latest Memo 618 adventure and Adrian keeps asking why this matters. “I’m not asking for your permission; I’m just filling you in,” Diane notes. “Maybe you should be asking for our permission,” Adrian counters because he does not want to be dominated by Diane. “Maybe. But I’m not,” she responds.

Liz thinks that Adrian acted weirdly. Adrian explains he doesn’t like how Diane insinuates she can overrule them. Liz has no idea what Adrian is talking about. So he explains the play. Liz still doesn’t think it’s a big deal and asks to take it over.

She then gets Caleb involved-- I guess Lucca is just done working now? Okay? It was nice to have Lucca scenes in this episode while it lasted!!! 

Liz and Caleb go to see the play and now we get to see the scenes where Liz is satirized. Fake Liz sings, because of COURSE they are going to have the FAKE version of her sing. Her song is about how her daddy is a sexual predator. It’s quite upsetting.

Liz and Caleb stay for a Q&A in which the playwright says the client in the play was “based on” (not “inspired by”). (Actually this happens after my second bullet but meh)

Then there’s a white woman who goes on a rant that feels too ridiculous to be true but apparently it’s lifted almost verbatim from an actual incident that happened at a Slave Play Q&A (I am not New York enough to have gotten the reference without the internet’s help). 

Monica is back! Yay Monica! Nikki just needs to show up on Evil next season and she’ll have been on every Kings show. 

Blah blah 618 blah blah. I don’t dislike this arc but I don’t have much to say about it. Like, I get it, corporations are powerful and the law is fake and this is a way of commenting on the insanity of the world while backing away from the politics. But other than saying that and enjoying the twists and turns… I don’t have anything to add.

Man, I miss character based drama. That’s not a criticism of the show, but this recap format is way less interesting (to write, and probably to read) when I don’t have anything to sink my teeth into.

Adrian doesn’t want to settle because now Adrian is mad. The client gets what he wants and Adrian insists they keep going. I mean, if the episode stopped now it would be a reasonable, even short, episode, and we’ve got fifty seven whole minutes to fill..

Liz is also on board to prolong the case. Lucca, who actually has perspective, tells Adrian he’s not acting in the client’s best interest. Adrian denies it. LOL, sure. 

At this exact moment Lucca receives (and looks at) a text from Bianca, who is still pursuing her. Tempting.

Liz asks Marissa if she’s heard of Cocksucker in Chains. She has, and she is getting a “gang” together to go see it, because of course she is.

David Lee enjoys the play. Diane and Kurt, less so. Julius and his wife do not like it at all. Also apparently we HAD seen Julius’s wife before and I somehow FORGOT?????

Play!Julius monologuing about justice makes Real!Julius reevaluate his decisions. 

Then we get into this weird Diane and Kurt sex plot that is kind of about the idea of problematic kinks (like getting off on watching a fake version of your white wife whip a black man) but is mostly just an excuse for fanservice in the form of Christine Baranski in sexy get-ups. She’s got an amazing figure, but does that alone justify this subplot? (I say no.)

(Also I’d be way more invested in a plotline about McHart’s sex life if it didn’t begin and conclude in the back half of a single episode. It’s sparked by the play-- not any ongoing issues-- and concludes in a cute way so to me it is… nothing.)

Marissa goes undercover as a playwright. Everyone in the group dislikes the writer of Cocksucker in Chains… a lot. They hand over the drafts easily.

Liz and Caleb spend a late night reading smut said by fake Liz in an early draft script to each other. Over it already. I was never a fan of boss/employee plots, and in this era, with this character who has SO MUCH potential but never really gets plotlines of her own, I have zero patience for this bullshit. Liz deserves better.

What really confuses me is that somehow Liz/Caleb is supposed to be about… investigating what interracial relationships are like???? If they’re so insistent on showing this can’t they… do something other than this? Random stranger at a bar?

I do not like this thing that is happening to Liz where whenever she gets a plot of her own it’s about fucking someone she shouldn’t be fucking. I haven’t forgotten what the writers did to Geneva Pine in late season seven for LITERALLY NO REASON. 

Liz would not flirt with an employee. Like, just stop. Liz has spent the last year coming to terms with her father being a serial assailant and we are going to deal with that by… having her make eyes at Caleb? That is not interesting or complicated.

And, tbh, it’s especially insulting to Liz when none of this feels motivated in character and ALL of it feels motivated in “we need a sexy forbidden romance so we can explore themes.” Get this plot away from Liz. 

This episode is too long, in case I haven’t already said that enough times.

And now the scene in which Bryan Kneef, the latest Rebel Dude Lawyer, says the word “ass” many times. I repeat: this episode is too long. 

Mr. Firth talks to Diane about pursuing 618. I don’t understand Mr. Firth’s deal. Why does he let Diane continue? Is he just a person who happens to be powerful who is actually trying to do a fair job and be understanding? This show just doesn’t have characters like that so you see why I am skeptical.

Again with the window washers. Of all the symbols of the problems with office life, this one?! (It plays especially poorly right now-- I wish that my biggest problem with my workspace was that there are people cleaning the windows to make my view nicer and not, you know, that my current workspace is my bedroom.) 

Firth goes to see Lucca next. Lucca says she doesn’t like her new standing desk. Wait. They got desks that are standing ONLY without consulting the employees? 

This scene is succeeding in making me miss the standing desk that I’ve only ever used as a standing desk, like, twice. 

No one on this show has a monitor at their desk. I wonder if that’s true to life for law firms. 

Now Bianca has found a way to make it part of Lucca’s JOB to come hang out at the beach and this is making me uncomfortable. Firth tells Lucca to go, even though Lucca shares her concern that Bianca just wants a friend. Firth somehow has a similar story to share and tells Lucca “the rich are not like us.” K. Sure. Maybe we can get away with calling Lucca well-off instead of rich but Firth? Rich. Maybe not ultra wealthy but dude is rich. 

SERIOUSLY what is with the window washers?

Enjoy this scene of Diane the dominatrix, fans. It’s here for you. 

(I don’t mean that snarkily against fans. I mean that snarkily against the show.)

The stock footage clip with the moon over Chicago is one of the more interesting stock footage clips I’ve seen the show use (plus it actually looks like the neighborhood Diane would live in!)

Oh I am just so thrilled that at the 44 minute mark, we are starting to do a series of unnecessary scenes in which the characters converse with their actor counterparts. What a good use of time.

And the sad thing is that I should like this device… but I don’t. None of this is actually building up the characters for me? How invested can I be in Diane and Kurt’s sex life problems when I’ve known about them for less than half of the episode? How interested can I be in deconstructing 

And I don’t need a scene of Julius debating if he should be honest or not, because the scene of him watching the play was enough to make me understand he’s having doubts about complying with 618.

And you know what I REALLY, TRULY, DO NOT NEED? ALL OF THIS ATROCIOUS LIZ/CALEB PLOT. 

Why is Play Liz so horny? What about Real Liz made the playwright write Liz to be like this? And if it’s not accurate, why is it getting under Liz’s skin like this? I get the Diane one because it was a turn-on and it makes Diane wonder about dominating (outside of the bedroom, too). I get the Adrian one because I mean holy shit that’s a big claim to make. And I get the Julius one because Julius loves to be the voice of reason/hear his own voice and feels like a hypocrite. But Liz? What the fuck is this nonsense?

Liz saying “I’m his boss” and talking about HR does not excuse the fact that we are pretending a boss/employee romance is a good plotline in 2020. And I’m so confused about why THIS is the way they are choosing to explore an interracial relationship.

I have watched TV shows before so obviously as soon as I saw Liz get on the elevator, I knew from the fact that we were watching her leave… she wasn’t going to leave. She was going to go and fuck her employee. Great writing guys. 

This also managed to remind me of all my anger at the Red Team Blue Team Willicia kiss (they previewed it as a sneak peak and I was excited that it it didn’t end with them kissing because that’s so cliche… then I watched the episode and I’m still furious about it in season four of the spinoff.) so thanks for that too, writers. 

Why is Fake Liz’s stupid song so goddamn long? 

“Oh God help me,” Liz says as she knowingly goes to make an incredibly stupid decision I have NOT A SINGLE REASON to believe she would make. But this is The Good Fight, and on The Good Fight we care about plot more than characters. 

(Oh. I am in a bad mood.) 

The client wants out of the suit because… I mean, duh? He got what he wanted and this should have stopped at like the 20 minute mark?

If I never had to see another one of these “boss and employee awkwardly talk in the office about how it’s nbd they fucked last night” scenes again I would be OVER THE MOON. I watched all of Willicia and I will rewatch all of Willicia, is that not enough?! 

I do like Caleb so far, but man, that just makes this worse! I like Caleb and I like Liz and maybe I could even like them together but I am so furious they’re doing the boss/employee thing it just makes me sad to see this happen to characters I like. 

Diane is now circling the word “ass” in transcripts of the deposition, but the suit’s been dropped because the suit was settled for 1.8 million. (I am sure that’s a lot to the victim and absolutely nothing to the corporation.) 

Also Kovac brings Diane a bird because WE LOVE WACKINESS ON THE GOOD FIGHT. 

And now for a scene in which a mysterious visitor gives Kurt a warning to stop Diane from pursuing something dangerous. I thought we were done with this. This shit is what I hated about the Book Club arc in season three: the stakes got too high for me to take it seriously. They run the risk of doing the same with Memo 618. Keep it small scale. 

Kurt tells Diane about his visitor, and Kurt and Diane both recognize that this is similar to what happened last year, so at least there’s continuity. 

Diane says this isn’t about politics. I mean. Not overtly. But that’s the point. This whole arc is a thinly veiled way of exploring how the legal system breaks down when there’s no enforcement, and lack of enforcement is tied to politics, so… is this really as apolitical as Diane wants it to seem? Certainly it’s less political than Book Club but I don’t think a radical group should be the benchmark.

Diane promises she’ll drop 618, then gets an idea to spice up her sex life by modifying her dominatrix costume into a sexy cowgirl costume. (Diane is not going to drop 618. This is episode 4.)

Did Diane just grab a gun from the bathroom? Why are there guns in the bathroom? I guess it makes sense if she was planning this.

Oh and that’s the end of the episode!!! I DID IT!!!! I MADE IT THROUGH HIS EPISODE A SECOND TIME!

[thiswasinevitableid]

57 with indruck would be the perfect christmas gift! Love your work!

#57: You called me at two in the moring insisting that I come over and help you bake christmas cookies for the party tomorrow because you forgot to make them earlier and need help now.

It’s 1:58 a.m, December 22nd, and Duck Newton should really be in bed. 

Instead, he’s aimlessly puttering about his kitchen. 

He can’t sleep. He’s tried. But something in his mind won’t settle, and each time he tries to grasp at it, to see what’s troubling him, the thought skitters away into some dark corner of his brain. 

Any distraction would be welcome at this point; hell, even if the now-closed gate were to open up with an abomination, that would be an improvement. At least then he’d know what he was worried about. 

Ringring

Thank god. Maybe Leo can’t sleep either, maybe Minerva’s decided he needs to do some kind of sudden hero training, maybe Barclay needs help at the lodge.

“Go for Duck.”

“Hello, Duck.” The lilt drifting across the telephone lines is unmistakable.

“Hey, Indrid, everything-”

“-okay? Yes. Or, well, mostly yes. My call is not a matter of life or death, if that’s what you mean. I was calling to ask if you’d be able to help me with something.”

“What kind of somethin?” Duck is already looking for his shoes, partially as a means of distraction from the filthy picture his mind just supplied of how he could help Indrid in the middle of the night.

“I am baking cookies for the party tomor-, ah, well, I suppose it’s technically today now, and I require assistance.”

“I mean, sure, but why call me? Sounds more like Barclay’s kinda thing.”

“True, but the futures showed me that you were going to spend the remainder of your night in a restless funk, and I wanted to prevent that. Also they show Barclay, ah, preoccupied with Agent Stern this evening. Goodness, who knew they-”

“Whoah, god, please do not make me think about my friends doin it. I’ll be over in a few.”

Indrid’s smile is audible, “wonderful. I shall see you soon.”

------------------------------------------

Indrid spends the next fifteen minutes cleaning. 

Shoving things into cabinets and under furniture counts as cleaning, right?

Perhaps he should have done this sooner. But there’d only been a 50% chance Duck agreed to join him. In half his visions, the human politely declined, and spent his night simmering in discontent. 

A crunch of tires is in new fallen snow means he doesn’t even need to look at the futures to see Duck arrive. He has a minute before he reaches the door. 

He glances down at the eggnog stain on his pajama pants, and dashes into the bedroom to change them. Gets to the door two seconds before Duck knocks. 

The ranger lowers his hand, smiling gently, “Hey.”

“Hello. Apologies in advance for how warm it is in here.”

“Eh, visited you enough lately that I’m kinda gettin used to it.”

“Oh, good. That’s very good.”

(Why are there futures of them kissing? Where is that coming from?)

Duck steps into the trailer, shutting the door as Indrid heads into the kitchen. 

“So, what are we makin’?”

“Sugar cookies. I promised Barclay I would bring some to the potluck tomorrow. I have all the necessary supplies here.”

“Great, what recipe are we usin?”

Indrid looks at the pile of ingredients on the counter. His future vision told him which ones to buy, but isn’t of much use when it comes to predicting a recipe.

“You don’t have a recipe, do you?” Duck says with amused patience.

“No, I do not.”

“Don’t suppose you got any cookbooks layin around.” Duck opens the nearest cabinet, which contains solely Capri Suns.

“I may. I collected various books that seemed useful during my travels. They’re in that cabinet towards the front.”

Duck kneels down, begins searching through the cabinet and pulling out books. 

“‘Drid, how the hell are you fittin all these in here? The physics don’t make sense.”

“Mmm? Oh, most of the cabinets and the closet are enchanted to allow for more storage space.”  He waves his hand distractedly, trying to parse out the warmth swirling in his chest at the use of the nickname. 

“Sewin’ guide, anatomy textbook, uhhhh maybe, nope, that’s a repair manual for the Bago. Didn’t know you worked on it yourself.” Duck leans further into the cabinet and Indrid spends a moment appreciating how his legs and ass look in his jeans before responding. 

(Probability of kissing jumps ten percent).

“I can do basic repairs. Though, at this point, my home is held together mainly by magic. And duck tape. A truly excellent human creation.”

“Not fillin me with confidence about the safety of drivin in this there, ‘Drid.” Duck teases. There’s rustling from the cabinet, though no further commentary.

The kissing futures jump even more. What on earth is happening? Yes, he wants to kiss his  friend. But as far as he can discern, Duck does not want that, and it takes two for that fantasy to work. 

“Aha, got it.” Duck crawls backwards, proudly produces a red and white checkered cookbook, “Bettin this has what we need.”

“Wonderful!” Indrid claps his hands together as Duck flips to a page with a recipe for sugar cookies and hands it to him.

“Oh dear, I do not have a mixer, this is going to take…” He blushes at an oncoming future. 

“You also got a friend with chosen strength. Ain’t just good for savin the word.” Duck grins and flexes his arm. 

Indrid chirrs appreciatively, then catches himself, “Ahem, in that case, please beat this butter and sugar in that bowl while I measure out our dry ingredients.”

They set to work, side by side. The small kitchen means they bump into each other often, but neither seems to mind. In fact, Duck seems to be bumping into him more than usual. 

“How come you waited until now to make these?” Duck cracks an egg into the bowl.

“I didn’t mean to. But as you know, I can be easily distracted by watching futures or trying to stop them.”

“Coulda just bought some at the store in the mornin. Not that I mind helpin you.”

“I...you will think me silly if I tell you.”

“That what the futures show?”

“Half of them, yes.”

“Try me?”

“It has been a long time since I had any kind of connection to my fellow Sylphs. Let alone friendships with both Sylphs and humans. I want to demonstrate that I value those connections, make things to contribute to our time together. It is nice to belong, in a way, and I often fear losing it.”

“‘Drid, you know you don’t gotta earn your place with us. We all care about you. I care about you.” He takes Indrid’s hand from where it’s paused, mid gesture, and squeezes it once.

“Thank you.” Indrid sighs, decides to take the risk of his next words, “I’ve seen the end of things, so many things, so many times. I am used to it, in many ways. But there are times when I struggle to believe that the good things in my life will not be cut short in the same way.”

“I mean, everythin’ ends cause of time and mortality and shit like that.But that don’t mean good things are gonna disappear as soon as you find ‘em.”

Indrid smiles.

(Seventy percent of the timelines show them kissing.)

“Hey, goofus, I see you floatin off into the futures. Stay in the present with me, or I’m eatin all the cookies myself.”

Indrid grins, “ You wouldn’t dare.”

Duck grabs a nearby spoon and scoops out a bite of dough and chews it with an exaggerated “mmmmmm.” 

Indrid pouts and makes grabby hands, as humans call them. 

“Nope, this is all mine now.”

“Noooo, the raw dough is the best part.” Indrid grabs for the bowl, but in spite of being shorter than him Duck manages to keep it out of reach. 

“I’m savin you from yourself, you’re gonna get salmonella.”

“I am not, my Sylph biology prevents such a thing. You, on the other hand, can very much get that illness. So,” he lunges for the bowl playfully. Duck sidesteps him and he stumbles with an undignified chirp. Duck snickers and Indrid giggles 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you some if you tell me one thing.” Duck sets the bowl back on the counter, blocking it with his body, “How come you have a bunch of drawins of me saved in your cabinet?”

“I, ah,” oh goodness, he should have seen this coming, “I save certain drawings if I like them.”

“‘Drid, those were almost all of me.”

“Because I like them. I like you. Seeing futures of you made me feel happy while I was away from Kepler.”

Ducks eyebrows slowly raise.

There’s no point in looking at the futures. Indrid has to do this in the present, has to face the reactions in real time, because that us always what being near Duck does to him; draws him back to earth, to the moment, over and over again because all he wants to focus on is him.

“I am very fond of you, Duck. It has been quite awhile since I had anything resembling a crush on someone, and my feelings for you have grown considerably in that direction. But I understand completely if it is not reciprocated.”

“That’s uh, that’s, fuck, uh-”

Indrid droops; if Duck is trying to lie, it must be to spare his feelings. 

“Um, I don’t, uh, oh fuck it.” 

Warm hands are suddenly on his upper arms as Duck pulls him into a kiss. Sugar and butter on his lips, strands of dark hair tangling in his fingers as he clasps Ducks head. It’s tentative, a tad awkward because of his glasses, and he never wants it to end. Whimpers when it does, and Duck simply smiles, bumps their noses together. 

“I was tryin to come up with some line about how I was surprised. But I ain’t, not really, especially not after findin those drawins. I been fallin for you for awhile, and was gettin the sense you might be doin’ the same. Just didn’t wanna push my luck and scare you off, sugar.”

Indrid grins.

“What?” Duck arches an eyebrow.

“I simply enjoy the nicknames you give me. Most of my aliases are attached to my sometimes unnerving appearance. It is nice to be called something new and sweet.”

Duck kisses him, first on the cheek and then snowflake-light on the lips, “Good to know. Now, c’mon, we can uh, cuddle, more once these are done and I need that real bad. So let’s finish these cookies, sugar.”

[gunmetalgrey-trashpile]

medical draaaaaama with @consultingsister

SEVERIN

Severin Moran was supposed to be a doctor. He was supposed to be helping people. Five years of schooling, two years in the army, one treating frontline patients in crisis points to...  being benched behind a desk to run budgets for each department, trying it squeeze pennies here and there just to make ends meet. He got to see a handful of patients, if any. Coming home was supposed to be more than this. He missed A&E more than he could possibly admit, and right now it was weighing on his shoulders more than usual. He used to have full faith in people. In her specifically. Cecelia Holmes was respected, brilliant and a once in a generation surgeon but adjusting the life support of a patient was… grounds for termination. Not to mention her being struck off. 
The pager had practically vibrated off of his desk.

Crash on London Bridge, three casualties, multiple passers by injured. Once dead on the scene. He wore scrubs constantly, just in case for the awful moments like this when he had to sprint down to the first floor and prove himself. The son had made it into triage by the time he arrived, the second and third casualties still under assessment when the daughter began to code. The head of the emergency room should have handled it, but he was closer. He was the official call in this moment. John Watson grabbed the shock cart, more people moving around them to try and support the situation. He ignored the two Sebastian Morans at the emergency room doors, everything else melted into he background.

Third shock, almost twenty full minutes of chest compression and he absolutely refused to call it. He kept going, the muscles in his arms burning but he couldn’t give it up. Long enough for someone to page Cecelia. He didn’t even notice in the fray, he was too focused on the patient. Early twenties, brown matted hair, heavy streaked eyeliner and-

The ringing of the heart monitor and the call of the alarms meant nothing. He had to keep going.

CECELIA

Celia loved a panic. It was sick, she knew but she also knew that almost every doctor on the floor felt the same, whether they admitted it or not. It was a time to prove yourself; it make your heart best like nothing else on the earth. And Cee was riding high. She had been in with of the first casualty; the medics were ready to call it but she met them all the door. While male, thirty-two, glass shards making their way to his heart.

It was almost too easy; she didn’t even need to bring him into surgery.

It was odd to see Celia on the floor in scrubs. It was almost like it’s own alarm bell. Cecelia Holmes has taken off her heels, run for cover. A car crash was also a wonderful distraction from thinking too much about what Sev was going to do. Which weighed more? His love for her or his moral code. Cee used to love that he was a good person, unwavering in it, but now it felt like another roadblock to her success.

She was in between check ups when she got the page. A small gathering at the door, as if there wasn’t anything better to look at. She didn’t need the whispered explanation from Nurse Emma. She could see it in his face, sweat dripping from his forehead. Twenty minutes in. There was nothing left to save. “Clear the room,” she barked. Then her voice softened. “Severin...” her eyes flash to John, then to the two nurses who remained. Down with the ship, she guesses. “Sev.”

A little firmer, she tries again, this time reaching for his shoulder. “Doctor Moran. You have to call time of death. There is nothing you can do now. Step away, take a breath, call it.” She speaks as if it’s easy. “Sev.... you can stop now.” SEVERIN He didn't even hear her barking orders in an emergency room that wasn't hers to control. He simply kept on going. Saying his name wasn't going to pull him away from the job at hand, he had to help people, he had to do... something. Initially he leant backwards at the hand on his shoulder, letting himself be moved so carefully. But he didn't take a breath. He turned to face Cecelia, glassy eyed and hands still shaking with adrenaline. It was his call. And he couldn't save anyone. "Time..." He started out with his voice unsteady, swallowing before he could carry on. He puffed up his chest, his eyes momentarily dropping tot he floor before his brow tightened and all the fury was back in his body again. Severin brushed her hand away roughly, shoving past her to stand next to John. "Time of death 19:57."

He wasn't about to hang around for a lecture she had no right to give. What was she even doing there?

CECELIA

She wasn’t used to being at the receiving end of... what? His bad mood? Sounds a little flat. His hatred? She could hardly bear the thought. He was always sweet with her. Even after the baby, the weeks that bled into months where was cold, dismissive, sometimes outright cruel. He forgave and forgot. It wouldn’t be so simple this time.

She turned back to John but he stopped her, “I’ve got this. Go.”

“I owe you.” She moved quickly from the room. Second sign of an emergency; Cecelia Holmes running. “Doctor Moran.”

It still sounded funny in her mouth to call him doctor. Maybe she still saw him as the kid from her biology class; maybe that was the problem. Cee needed to adapt, needed to see him as a doctor, her boss. Only technically. “Doctor, can I please speak with you? Where are you going?”

SEVERIN

He didn’t stop. He just kept moving, waiting for her to follow him into a completely empty OR, not that he had planned it well. His pager wasn’t going off so he couldn’t claim to be urgently needed elsewhere, his anger and frustration piling on in heaps. He had been so good at staying calm and collected before he came back to work here. With her.

“Don’t.” He didn’t want to see her right now, let alone be forced to listen to stupid justification as to why his saviour complex got in the way of him actually doing his job. “You don’t get to lecture me on life and death, what the hell do you fucking know?”

Severin rallied, rounding on her with those icy eyes that gave away his inner turmoil. He was quiet, despite his rage. Enough so that nothing would carry back to a busy ER.

“You don’t get to speak with me, not now.”

CECELIA

“I know!” Cee wasn’t do adept at keeping her voice down. Sev’s anger was always icy when hers was fire. Hot, unstoppable; people were likely to get burnt. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep it together. “I know that the best thing I could have done for Jennier Ried was let her die on my table. Or, better yet, not have pushed for the surgery at all so she could have died at home, with her family, peacefully. But instead, because of my pride, I kept her alive when it was her time to go. And now she is a fucking vegetable, Sev! With her mother coming in every single fucking day. Losing a child is hard but this...”

She gave a growl of frustration, covering her face and turning away from him. She should tell him it was a mistake; a bad decision made at the end of a long shift. That she was grateful that he stopped her. Even if it was a lie. It was save her career, it would save their relationship.

Cee turned back, closing the space between them. “You weren’t saving that patient. They were gone Sev, you were trying to save yourself. Everyone in that room knew it.”

SEVERIN

"No. No the best thing you could have done was stick to letter of the law.  There are rules Cecelia. You cannot make yourself the arbiter of life and death, although how would you know? It's not like you have ever had that control taken away from you." He snarled. There was hardly two feet between them.

He reached out for her shoulder, pulling her to face him again. No, she didn't get to do this.

"I don't need saving. I am fine, I'm the only sane one here."

Severin pushed her, heading straight for the doors of the OR as if he was ready to head straight back to work.

CECELIA

“You are drowning, Moran.”

She knows because she’s been there herself. She knows because putting him in the position to keep her secrets was as good as shoving him under the water. She moved past him quickly, leaning against the door. He could easily move her, she knew that, but she hoped it would be enough.

“You have been since you came back to London. Fighting with Bash, you’ve been short with interns. I have never seen you like this. I fucked up, I know that! I know I am making your life hard, but please, I can help. This can’t go on, Sev. It’s a race to see who you kill first; yourself or.a patient.”

SEVERIN

“I have to be fine, because I clearly can’t trust anyone. Look at you, I had total faith and you just...”

He stopped dead in his tracks, glaring her down completely. It was hilarious now how many times he could think he had hit breaking point only to realise there was still deeper he could sink to.

“How would you know? You shut me out. You didn’t care when things were at their worst, stop acting like you care now. It’s not going to change my mind, you pretending that there’s a second chance just to save your bloody career. You need to move.”

CECELIA

"Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare." Without meaning to, without even realising she was doing it, she shoved him. He was right that Cecelia didn't like losing control but she was wrong that she never did. "I have never ever cared more than when we lost--" her throat constrict.

"Yes, I shut you out afterwards but that was not because i did not care. I didn't know how to handle how much I cared, Sev. I lost your baby. And I could do nothing, say nothing to bring her back for you. But you left, you picked a war zone over staying with me."

She doesn't want to cry but she can feel the sharp stinging at the corner of her eyes. "I do care now, I cared then and I care now. Fire me, honestly, if that will lift a weight off your shoulders but you know I made good calls, nine out of ten times, I made a good call even if it's not textbook."

SEVERIN

Severin stepped backwards. This was hardly enough to break through to him, even with how much the admission had cost her emotionally. “Really? You put your career first, and always. Clearly above patients. Clearly above us, any chance there was here? It’s gone. Don’t question my calls, don’t undermine me in front of my staff. I am your boss. Remember that.”

He didn’t even want to hear it. “I left to do my god damn job, now step aside.”

CECELIA

"I am willing to lose my job to give a family some peace, Sev. How the hell is that putting my career first?" She knew her argument was weak. What Celia called colouring outside the lines most would call gross negligence. She stands taller against the door, bracing herself.

"No." Her hand wrapped around the door handle and she realised she might even be a little scared of him. Just last week she'd watched him subdue a drink man twice his size in A&E, he could throw her across the room if he wanted to.

SEVERIN

Head shaking, he stepped back again. He moved to the operating table, pressing his palms to it with a deep breath in order to press out some of the anger. He couldn’t do this right now. In a flash, he kicked out tossing a tray across the room in a clattering racket before huffing like an idiot.

His hands moved to his face, his fingers pressing into the flesh with the stress. “I need to get out there before they loose anyone else. Let me go.”

CECELIA

"You have not been paged, I have not been paged. You are not currently in a fit state to look to patients and I have no intention on letting you leave before you have calmed down."

She gripped onto the door handle tighter, trying not to shake. Strike that, she was a lot scared. She had jumped as the tray hit the floor but now moved forward, away from the door, pulling hands hand away from his face and replacing them with her own. "Look at me, look at me Sev. You cannot save everyone. Not everyone lives. Not my patient, not yours. Not the baby. Not Alex. But so many do live. So many people have gone on to live because of what you did for them. Me included Sev. I am only alive today because of you. You saved me. Let me help you, please."

SEVERIN

“What are you going to do for me, huh?” He pulled away again, pacing like a caged animal. He needed to be busy and just... not think.  “How’s putting me in positions were there is no right choice going to help?!”

Severin hadn’t told a soul, and it was the very first time he had disobeyed his own moral code. There was flexibility when it came to the law and high pressure situations but not this.

“I can’t think straight around you. Sam is right, you get in my head. And you just...”

He stopped DEAD IN HIS TRACKS, closing his eyes to breathe in deep through his nose and out through his mouth slowly. “The last thing I want from you right now is whatever your idea of help is.”

CECELIA

“Jessica is brain dead and I am the best surgeon on your staff. You saw me with my hand on the switch, that’s it. There is a right choice.” She almost instantly regretted that. She was right, but it wouldn’t help. Cee moved towards him again.

“Sam is not right. After your punch up with Bash, who did you come see? You said it yourself, you sleep better in my bed. How can you tell me I don’t help?”

It’s a risky move but she stops him, hands back on his face, she kisses him. Hard and urgent, desperate to the through to him. “I love you, i love you. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Even Cecelia isn’t sure what she is more panicked about; losing him or losing her job but the two seem connected now. It’s their fourth year all over again and her planned future is going down the drain. “I love you”.

SEVERIN

She was the best surgeon on his staff, that he couldn’t argue with. Largely because she took the risks no one else wanted to. It was infuriating that she could be so damn right all the time.

The kiss made him want to relent, forget the chaos going on around them and just kiss her back. Only it wasn’t that simple. Severin lingered longer than he should have, kissing her back with as much frustration and urgency as she had. He slept better in her head, he found life easier by her side but this hurt deeply. Not just her actions, but confronting him like trying to do his all was the wrong move.

“No- no. Don’t say that. Not now.” She knew the buttons she was pressing and this time around he wouldn’t play into her hands so easily. Severin pulled away, pulling her hands down from his face.

“You can’t love me when it’s convenient for you.”

CECELIA

The OR light bounced from the table and onto her face, reminisce of the lighting in black and white movies. She twisted her mouth and her eyes gleamed. She thought she had worked it out this time. Done the right maths. Right time, right place. They could make it work this time.

But he was still Sev and she was still Cee. Not enough had changed. Or everything had, she couldn't tell.

She opened her mouth but a incessant beeping from her waist band cut her off. Looking dow to her check her message, she sniffs. "Loving you... is absolutely never convenient for me. I just do it anyway." She looks into his face and smiles saddly. "We have to go. Second wave."

SEVERIN

Her pager beeped. His was completely silent. He didn’t break his concentration on her face, trying to understand where he should even be in this mess. If she had said those three little words at any other point then he’d be over the moon. The problem lay in the delay, that now apparently there was weight to them.

“Debrief me before you leave.” He still knew it was stupid to send her into surgery unsupervised be he really didn’t have a choice.  “I have a family to call.”

CECELIA

"Sir yes sir." Her smile grew tight. How could he treat her like she was a liability? Her almost perfect track record of general surgery. Who else on her level had that?

The next five hours are a blur. Two minor procedures, one surgery, one shower. By the time she's found him in his office, she's out of scrubs and back in her power suit, heels on, ready for her own battle. She knocks, even though the door is open. "Did I ever tell you I applied for this job when you did? I mean--- thank god I didn't get it. It's sort of make you a dick." Her pleading tone is gone. She's pissed at him. It feels like he is holding her job over her head.

"I'm here you to tell you I didn't kill anyone today. Same as yesterday, same as the day before. I even managed to fit in a scheduled surgery, which brought int he hospital about... hm, ten thousand in billable hours, I think? I'm not an accountant, but I think that's my going rate."

SEVERIN

He should have stopped her. This wasn't about oversight, in fact, he was too invested in a family that had lost two members in one day- in spite of his attempt to help. He wanted to know that there was a chance the other two made it to the end of his shift.

Severin watched her move through the doors, and away from the emergency room. His first call was to Sam, to put him on the ground. Right now, the poor second would be starting his shift with a fresh mind and fresher hands. It was going to be easier on both of them.

He insisted on calling the relatives himself, trying to bury himself in the budget and not watch the hours tick by. He'd managed it, well, his eyelids were drooping as the knock on the door cut through his thoughts.

"Right." His steam had blown off entirely, calmer again. Almost rational. "That sounds about right. I've been running the numbers so I can believe it."

Severin stood up, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets in a way that would seem achingly familiar. His head tilted awkwardly, charmingly. As if he had never lost his cool. "I think we need to talk, don't you?"

CECELIA

Cecelia paused in the doorway, stuck between an adult and telling him to suck it. However, in the best interests of her own career, she took off her coat and closed the door behind her.

She wishes she had something smart to say, she seems to for everything else but all she can think to say is... you look tired. She wants to take him into leaving with her, maybe even taking some holiday time like normal people. "I meant everything I said before but I can't-- I cannot lose my job Sev. St Thomas' would never sign off on you letting me go so you'd have to have me struck off. Are you seriously considering that?"

SEVERIN

He leant against his desk, propping himself up.

"Just -listen." He raised a hand, trying to get her to give him time. Tired was one way to put it. Total and complete exhaustion was another.

"We've been fighting, in one way or another since I go here. I'm not saying I didn't deserve some of it, but somewhere along the line- we made a good team." Late night study sessions right up to trial parenting. There was nothing they couldn't do, as long as the did it together. Maybe in the months of moving around each other, he'd lost sight of what the real goal was.

"I need to trust you to work with me. You love me, then you know I've only ever got your best interest. And the patients, because there's a situation where the two aren't exclusive." This was the biggest risk of his career, and maybe more. What other alternative was there? He couldn't report her, it was just not going to happen. "I am not going anywhere alright? I love you, but don't use it against me."

CECELIA

A weight lifts. The sky clears. She moved to the door and back to the desk; he’s not going to tell! She should be more sorry, more solemn but she can’t help but. She wants to shout out! She’s keeping her job!

“Yes, I promise. I love you, I really do.” She covers her face with her hands to hide her grin. They’re parents, of course he wasn’t going to let her go. She stares at him for a moment and then laughs, a mister of relief and something else.

“Look at you... behind a desk... pushing papers and working out budgets. That’s... that’s sick.” No wonder he is losing his mind.

SEVERIN

The relief was palpable, but he wasn't finished. "Wait. It's not that simple. Brain dead or otherwise, that's never your call to make. This ever happens again, I'm reporting us both. I can't let you do that Cee. I'm not asking you to be sorry, but I am asking you to promise me that will never, ever happen in my operating rooms again. Am I clear?"

He kept his voice steady, his posture loose. He was very much pulling the boss card, but trying to make it look like there was something more than work that was driving him. This was a huge mistake, the issue was that that the alternative didn't bare thinking about.

"Pays well. Paperwork or CPR, that's what I seem t have signed up for." His blonde hair was growing lighter around the sides, his laughter lines deeper in the dim evening light as it shifted into the early hours of the morning. Just because he wore his weariness well didn't make it any less obvious.

"Starting to see why the job was so available. Poor Lelia, I'm pretty sure she's reserved a bed in the psych ward for the day I finally push her over the edge."

CECELIA

"I promise I will never put you through this again. Ever. With anything." It wasn't a lie, per se, but it wouldn't have made it harder to say even if it was. She would say anything she needed to, as long as he allowed her to cut. To heal someone more optimistic might say. But she would be careful. She would make good, by the book decisions, for a couple months and she wouldn't allow herself ot be in the position again of having a brain dead patient.

She moved around his desk, pulling his arms around her. "You're very clear. And you're very bossy. You're right, I need to stop seeing you as my study-buddy and start seeing you as my boss. Only technically," she allows another grin to grow on her rep lips. "And only when we're here."

Cee wished she couldn't hear the little voice in her head, the wicked nagging little sound that she was sure she inherited from her father. You've got him wrapped around your finger, you're safe now, clever you. It wasn't fair. This wasn't planned. She wasn't going to take advantage of this, of him. She could be better with him.

"I think we're all going going there eventually. Or to hell, I don't know which I'd prefer."

SEVERIN

It wasn’t lost on him that her career was the only constant in her life. She had used it as ammunition to push him away, her only real defiance against her father. When they had pulled apart, she had sought refuge in it. If it came down to a choice...

Severin let himself be moved into holding her, even if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted right now. It was impossible to read her, and even worst to be stuck second guessing her motivations. Of course this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Makes a change, doesn’t it?” He pressed his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. “Don’t know either. Depends how much paperwork there is in hell. It’s bad excel has me missing Helmand, right?”

He moved back for peace and quiet, and yet in the year he had been here it has been anything but. Constant battles with family, with the board, with Sam.. he was a very different person to the easy going doctor that had agreed to the position. How could helping people twist him up like this?

“I think it’s safe to say today wasn’t subtle. And that I owe John and apology for acting like a prat in his emergency room.”

CECELIA

As his forehead lent against hers, she knew she was safe. Maybe for the rest of her career. It was an accident, in fact she had ever intention of not going near Severin Moran ever again but--

"These things happen." She lifted her chin to kiss his head and then leant against him again. "I've seen John lose it with interns more times than I can count. Even doctors have bad days and A&E seems to get the brunt of it." Even she, infallible Cecelia, had lost her cool once or twice.

"We should get away-- oh, we should go to Italy! Take a whole week off, forget this place even exists. No beepers, no excel, no Bash or Seb!" She gives a little giggle. "Come on, boss."

SEVERIN

It was torture to know he hadn't even finished for the day. He also wanted to head to the ICU, check on the family himself since she didn't seem to have any news. Severin softened further, the tension in his shoulders dropping at her gentle kiss in a way that showed at leas the physical stress had left his body. She was right. A&E was always where tensions were highest, he knew that from his own experience. If that had been his department back in Bristol though he would want to have a chat and make sure all was fine. Maybe he could grab a pint... if it wasn't nearly 2am again. One day he would leave here at a reasonable hour.

"We should." A trip back to paradise would be a welcome break. Maybe if he did a trade off, left Sam for a week and gave him a week in return... "I think that would be perfect. I've got another half hour, you should head home. No point waiting for me, I'm going to be awful company..."

He'd still head back to her flat, slip in quietly and close his eyes for a few hours. Better than the mattress on the floor and empty fridge he was living with in Bermondsey.

[eddie-boii]

Never Let You Go (part 5/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change). Language.

Pairings: Reddie, Benverly.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding. The aftermath of that party...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

*

Richie awoke the next morning with a hangover far less jarring than he was expecting. His head still pounded and his dry mouth still tasted like shit, but he could move without wanting to die so that was something. The phenomenon was confusing until he remembered waking up in the middle of the night to find water and aspirin placed neatly on his bedside table. At the time, he hadn’t put any thought into how it had gotten there, but now he wondered who it might have been.

After several minutes spent building up the will to leave his cozy cocoon, he managed to extract Beverly’s arm from around his waist, shivering at the sudden lack of warmth, and stepped out of bed, instantly tripping over his tangled sheets and face planting the floor.

“Shut up,” he grunted when Beverly giggled. Of course she had to wake up in time to see that.

He picked himself up and made his way to the en suite bathroom on muscle memory alone since he couldn’t see shit without his glasses, then splashed water on his face and brushed his teeth for long enough to make Eddie proud, if only to remove the gross taste from his mouth.

He made his way back into his bedroom after freshening up, shoved his glasses back on and retrieved his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans before crawling back into his still-warm bed beside a dozing Beverly.

“Wake up, asshole,” he said, poking Beverly’s cheek. “If I have to be awake and suffering, so do you.”

Beverly groaned and made to swat his hand away, but completely missed and smacked him in the face instead. She snorted at his ensuing yelp, even while sputtering out a quick, “Sorry, sweetie.” Then she made her way to the bathroom as Richie checked his messages.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered as ‘127 unread messages’ flashed up on the screen on The Losers’ group chat. He scanned the last few messages, which was hard since most contained atrocious typos from his drunken friends.

[1:52 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: Delete that fucking video Stan I swear to god.

[1:52 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: If Richie sees it I’m gonna kill you.

[1:55 am] Not-so-flat Stanley: Nahd bro sfucking makae me

[1:57 am] Flowerpot man #1: Wesll pute it isn a aslideshiow for youre vegas wedsing 

[1:58 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: Your typing is fucking awful.

[1:58 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: I have blackmail videos too you know.

[1:58 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: I’ll send them to your wives don’t think I won’t.

[2:01 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: Get back here assholes!!

[2:01 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: Stanley!!!!! Bill!!!

[2:02 am] Mikey Mouse: They passed out :(

[2:02 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: They better hope they stay in a fucking coma.

[7:43 am] Flowerpot man #2: Guys what the hell happened last night???

“What the fuck?” Richie mumbled to himself, scrolling back up on his phone, but Stan must have actually deleted whatever video they were talking about, the evidence that it was there at all shown only by a jarring gap in the flow of conversation. From:

[12:32 am] Queen B: Omg are yuo seeing the ass on thsi stripper??

[12:34 am] Flowerpot man #1: Evrn juicer thsn Stan’s

[12:34 am] Mikey Mouse: Impsosible

To:

[1:13 am] Not-so-flat Stanley: Miskde yuo owes mae 30 buskcs1!!!1

[1:14 am] Flowerpot man #1: lol gay

[1:14 am] Mikey Mouse: Doesdn’t count!!!!!

[1:16 am] Queen B: Has to be mutual Stanley!

[1:17 am] Not-so-flat Stanley: Eds waas cleasrldy into it!!!!!!!!!

“Bev,” Richie called, frowning at his phone with growing dread. “Mind reminding me what the fuck happened last night?”

Beverly appeared in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush still in her mouth. “I don’t know, usual drunken shit?” she said, though the words were hard to make out through her mouthful of toothpaste. She spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed, then returned to leaning against the door. “I remember playing truth or dare, and we stole your glasses, and then…” Her eyes widened suddenly. “Oh shit.”

“What?” said Richie wearily, kind of dreading the answer but needing to know anyway.

“Okay, honey, promise you won’t freak out…”

“That is the number one way to freak someone out,” said Richie, beginning to freak out. “What the fuck did I do? Did I post a dick pic on twitter? Am I going to be on the news?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that,” said Beverly. She moved to sit on the bed beside Richie and took his hand reassuringly. “Everything that happened is just between The Losers. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Well, do you remember trying to stick your tongue down the throat of anyone who got within an inch of you?”

“Oh god,” said Richie, but honestly he’d expected worse. He’d always been kind of a ‘friendly’ drunk. “Is that all? Please tell me that’s all.”

“Well,” said Beverly, “do you also remember that the reason you tried to kiss anyone in sight was because you didn’t have your glasses on and you thought… Well, you thought we were Eds.”

Richie stared at her. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no.” He groaned and ran his hands down his face, his unshaven stubble scratching at his palms. “Are you sure? Coz, uh, maybe I just thought you were all Eddie’s mom.” He tried for a light-hearted grin but it came out as more of a shaky grimace.

“Oh, you made it quite clear, babe,” said Bev. “You screamed ‘Eddie’ at us right before. Mike would like to know if you’re colourblind.”

Richie buried his face in his hands and let out an even longer groan than before. “So everyone knows?”

“That you’ve got it bad for Eds? Yep.”

“Does Eddie know?”

Beverly scoffed at that. “God, no. He’s as dense as you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing,” said Bev, avoiding eye contact.

Richie groaned some more, then something occurred to him as his gut filled with growing horror. The missing video... “Wait, fuck, Bev, did I kiss Eddie?”

Beverly didn’t answer right away. She was gnawing at her lip, her eyes looking anywhere but at Richie. “Well, yeah, but I doubt he thought it meant anything. I mean, you’d already made out with everyone else by that point. And- Oh fuck, there’s something else, babe.”

Richie stared at her. How could this possibly get any worse? “What?”

“Well, I didn’t hear everything coz I was in the hallway, but, um, you might have told Eddie you loved him-”

“What?!”

“He was making sure you got to bed okay and-” Richie had leapt up at this pointing and was frantically pacing the room while Bev remained on the bed, her arms waving around frantically as she tried to explain. “I think he just thought you meant in a friendly way! He still doesn’t know anything, I promise!”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s Eddie!” said Beverly as if this settled matters. “He doesn’t know shit. If he didn’t know back when we were kids, he’s not gonna figure it out now.”

“He-” Richie stopped pacing abruptly and turned to look at Beverly who clamped both hands over her mouth as though she’d only just realised what she’d said. “You- you knew I liked him when we were kids?”

Beverly slowly lowered her hands from her mouth, her expression apologetic. “Oh, babe, everyone knew.”

“Everyone?!”

“Well not Eddie,” said Beverly. “Listen, honey, this really isn’t as bad as you think. I mean, I think he likes you too.”

“Yeah right,” Richie scoffed. “Have you seen me?”

Beverly got off the bed and grasped both of Richie’s hands in hers, squeezing them as she looked up at him, her expression sincere and a little stern. “Honey, you are a fucking amazing, wonderful person, and also a weirdly good kisser, and if Eddie doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you. But for the record, I’m pretty sure I’ve caught him checking out your ass.”

“When Stan’s ass is right there?” said Richie. “Damn, he must like me.”

“He does!” Beverly insisted. “Now grow some balls and ask him out! Preferably before the wedding or Stan and I will lose that bet we have against Mike and Bill.”

“You guys are betting on us?!”

“Just a little,” Bev grinned apologetically, then leaned up and kissed Richie on the tip of his nose. “Now don’t tell Mike or Bill you know about it or they’ll say I’m cheating.”

“You are all horrible friends,” said Richie, but he grinned back at her anyway, then retrieved his phone off the bed as Bev went to finish getting washed up. He contemplated his friends’ dumb messages for a minute, then sent one of his own:

[11:43 am] Little King Trashmouth: Sorry about last night Eduardo the resemblance between you and your mom is just too strong (~￣³￣)~

He didn’t have to wait long for replies:

[11:44 am] Eduardo Spaguardo: That is so not fucking funny

[11:45 am] Flowerpot man #1: Where do you keeping finding those faces???

[11:45 am] Flowerpot man #2: Seriously guys what the hell happened????????

Richie smiled down at his phone then shut it off for the time being. There was no way Eddie liked him, so matter what Beverly insisted, but Richie was just glad he hadn’t screwed things up. As long as they were still friends, as long as Richie still made ‘your mom’ jokes and Eddie still got mad at him for it, everything would be okay. And, hey, if Beverly was right, if Eddie did really like him like that, then maybe he’d let his guard down just a little, stop hiding behind so many jokes, let Eddie find his way through the gaps if he wanted to try. 

Whatever happened, happened, and Richie was okay with that.

*

Previous Next

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 57

57. Apology

Utterson was discussing legal work with Mr. Guest, when he received a note from Jekyll's home, that he was to come as quickly as possible.

He sent a note back, that he was still at work, but would come as soon as he could.

It was already evening, when his work was done and he could go to see Jekyll and Hyde.

When he came to Jekyll's home, the blond and the brunette were waiting in the parlour, sitting on a couch, arm in arm and obviously very happy to be together again. Jekyll was looking a lot better already, even though it looked like it would take weeks, until he had gained his former weight back. But that was fine.

The lawyer wasn't sure, whether he should cry in relief or yell at the two for their stupidity.

“Hello, you two.”

Jekyll smiled. “Hello, Gabriel. Come here. We have so much to tell you.”

Damn right you do!

But the lawyer didn't voice that thought and sat in the armchair opposite to them.

Even though it was established by now that Jekyll loved both of them to bits, Utterson couldn't help but be surprised, when the blond took his hand.

“I believe, my good man, that I owe you a thousand apologies.”

The black-haired lawyer couldn't help but gawk at his beloved Doctor – he hadn't expected that!

The corner of Jekyll's mouth twitched upwards for a second, before he continued: “You only wanted to help me and comfort me and instead you had to listen to me wallowing in my misery and pining for another man. Even though Edward is my other half (and always will be), you must have been so heartbroken. Please believe me, that I love both of you equally, even though it didn't look like it at all during the past weeks. You didn't deserve to suffer like that. Edward told me about your mental state yesterday and I'm taking the full responsibility for it.”

Utterson felt his face flush. “I-it's fine …”

“No, it's not. Allow me to make up for the last weeks in the best way I can.”

“The best way we can”, Hyde corrected, “I caused the entire mess, when I left. So we're both in on this.”

The lawyer didn't respond in words.

Instead he stood up, grabbed their hands and pulled them into a bone-crushing embrace.

Jekyll hugged back immediately, while Hyde was as awkward as every time Utterson initiated a hug.

The black-haired man gave up his attempts at not crying and sobbed into Jekyll's shoulder.

“Has anyone ever told you both”, he wept, “that you are complete idiots? Well, you are! What am I going to do with you two? Scientific geniuses and you still act like six-year-olds towards each other! Can't you just talk and listen to one another and show consideration like the adults you are?!”

Hyde, whose face was currently pressed against the lawyer's chest bone, giggled: “So far not, but we'll try from now on. Cross my heart – or my brain, if you prefer that.”

“Ditto”, Jekyll agreed.

“You idiots!”, Utterson wailed, cried harder and tightened his hug. “What am I going to do with you?!”

Jekyll chuckled lowly: “Well, if you want to, you could go to a restaurant with us. I'd make reservations and invite you both. What do you think?”

The older man smiled. A relaxed date with these two fools was just what he needed after three weeks of anxiety. “Sounds good. As long as the restaurant isn't too crowded. You know I loathe large crowds.”

“As much as you hate great heights”, Jekyll recalled. “Don't worry, I would never forget about that. Besides, Hyde doesn't like large crowds either.”

“I really don't”, the brunette confirmed. “But that's mutual. I'm sure they would love to give us the most hidden table in the facility.”

The three men laughed.

Feeling happier than he had in almost a month, Utterson leaned into Jekyll's broad shoulder and stroked Hyde's with his other hand.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”, he begged.

“Of course”, Jekyll said.

“Alright”, Hyde said.

“I'm sorry too, by the way.”

The two madmen looked at him in confusion. “Why?”

Utterson turned to Hyde. “I should have been the one to get you. Instead it was Lanyon and I-”

“Don't be stupid”, the brunette cut him off, “Jekyll needed you here. And it was good, that it was Lanyon, rather than you. He could help me better in that moment.”

Hyde could tell, that the black-haired man was a bit miffed, so he specified: “In that moment I needed a more parental figure, which you're not. And in that moment he was calmer and more level-headed than you were that evening.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The young man raised an eyebrow. “You burst into tears and kissed the shit out of me, as soon as you recognised me. I wouldn't exactly call that calm or level-headed.”

Utterson relented. “Yes, you have a point there. It still irks me though, that he was a bigger help than I.”

Jekyll smiled: “You were a big help. Who knows what I would have done, if you hadn't been with me the entire time. I wasn't in a state, where you could have left me alone for even ten minutes and I needed someone I'm in love with, rather than Lanyon. He's very dear to me, but he's my friend and ex-lover. That's not the same. He couldn't have given me the comfort you could give me.”

“My word”, a new voice said.

Lanyon was leaning in the door frame with a lopsided grin.

“Good morning, Hastie”, Jekyll greeted.

“Good morning, idiots”, Lanyon returned and stuck his tongue at them, like a mature adult.

The three other men chuckled – the hoary doctor was right, after all, so why would they be angry?

“Have I ever thanked you for all that you have done for me?”, Jekyll asked his colleague later.

Lanyon laughed: “No, but you can do it more often in the future.”

“Well, allow me to start right now. Thank you a billion times. Where would I be without you?”

“Six feet under, that's where!”

Jekyll giggled. “True, you're right. How many times have you saved my life so far?”

“I stopped counting.”

“Well, but you have. And for that alone you deserve the highest honours – but even more so for how you can put up with the real me for longer than ten minutes.”

Lanyon's eyes softened. “That's what friends do, Henry. What kind of friend would I be, if I couldn't stand who you really are?”

“Still though. You're such a wonderful person. I don't know what I have done to deserve a wonderful friend like you.”

The hoary doctor shook his head. “It's not about what you or I deserve or don't deserve, Henry. I'm your friend, because I like you and care about you, because you need me, because we have so much in common and because being your friend makes me happy. Even though you're the most difficult man I have ever met. Besides – you deserve better than you think. I knew that from the very first moment that I met you.”

Jekyll smiled warmly. “I see.” Then he hugged him tightly. “Thank you so much. For being my best friend.”

Lanyon grinned happily and hugged back.

“Anytime, you mad scientist.”