#this takes place like Right before the last snippet i posted sorry for the weird order

[quirkle2]

“Exactly. That’s where I come in,” he slowly floats away once he knows Shigeo has balance, “Just for one night. I possess you, you get the grandest sleep you’ve ever had in your life, and while you’re busy schnoozing, Ritsu will do your homework.” Dimple holds out a little hand. “Deal, partner?” Shigeo looks at it like he’s seeing another world, like it’s the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and his hand twitches at his side. He’s still got this other against his dresser and he grips the wood until his fingers go white, digits wrapping around the corner like he wants to snap it off. But he also looks at it like he’s seen this before, like he knows how this will go, like he wants to stay no and turn away and then his legs are wobbling and his eyes are tired and he’s losing steam by the day. Dimple watches him think over the consequences, weigh the reward against it, watches him go back and forth between an open expression and that stern, guarded one. This is exactly why he hadn’t offered this sooner. If he’d done this a few weeks ago, Shigeo still would’ve had energy left in him, no matter how little, and it would’ve convinced him he could keep going. He would’ve said no immediately, wouldn’t turned him down without a thought. But now, the kid is worn down. The kid is salivating at the idea of a good night’s sleep, a full, deep eight hours uninterrupted, and Dimple is an expert in offering deals at good moments. He knows how to starve people of things they need, knows how to cut off the things that make people straight thinkers, and he also knows this isn’t the most honest way to do this, but he has to. Possessing the kid will give him access to his thoughts. Shigeo gets to sleep, and Dimple gets to find out if the stench of death is really what he thinks it is.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

in which late night sad topics are broached, buggy comes to his senses (???), and we do need to get out of bed at some point, shanks. there are things happening outside your personal drama, you know.

part seven of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) if you have no idea what i’m talking about but would like to read a shanks/buggy story about kissing in disguise and then having to deal with the emotional fallout of doing that, click on this link, that’s the tag for the whole thing in chronological order. (plus a fair bit of complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i’m talking about: i am afraid this fic is turning into a test case for zeno’s dichotomy paradox, where the closer i get to the end the farther away it becomes. >>; i honestly cannot see how it would take me more than 5k to wrap things up, but i said that last time, and the time before that, so… see you in part eight! eta: i almost forgot!! if a moment early on sounds familiar, you may have already seen the huyandere art that inspired it. either way please enjoy the silliness.

Buggy woke with a start, and didn’t know where he was.  The bed was too soft, the person at his back was too warm.  And too close, Galdino had so far always curled up facing the far side of the bed, what was he—Buggy blinked blearily at the faint outline of a sake flask on the nightstand.  Oh, right.  This was Shanks’ room.

The windows above the bed let in a fair amount of moonlight, but the moon was waxing crescent tonight so Buggy couldn’t see much of anything.  He hadn’t thought about it when he decided to stay the night, but he didn’t sleep well in new places.  Stupid to think that just because there was a familiar person that the unfamiliar place wouldn’t still disturb his sleep.

Ah, well.

Buggy moved slowly, not wanting to wake Shanks if he could help it.  It should be possible, they weren’t wrapped up in each other or anything stupid like that… though if Buggy had been asked, he would have imagined Shanks was as clingy asleep as awake.  But no, Shanks was close enough that his body heat had soaked into Buggy’s back, but they weren’t touching.

Buggy stretched a little, yawned a little, and rolled over.  He couldn’t resist the opportunity to see what a fully grown Shanks looked like asleep.  The possibilities were too tempting… what if he had stupidly messy hair, or drool dried on his face, or a big snot bubble on one nostril?

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get to find out, because it turned out that Shanks was awake.  He was lying on his side, in fact, staring at Buggy.  Biting back a yelp of alarm, Buggy swatted him on the arm.

“What the hell!” he hissed.

“What?”

“Why are you watching me sleep?  That’s so weird!”

“Is it?”

“Very!”

Shanks smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry.  I just couldn’t sleep, I guess, so I was lying here, thinking…” Buggy open his mouth and Shanks immediately put his hand over it.  “I know I set you up for it, but please, no jokes about how hard that must be for me or whatever.”

Buggy made a muffled grumbling sound and shoved Shanks’ hand away.  “Thinking about what, then?”

Shanks glanced away for a moment and sighed. “Well, I guess it is after midnight.”

What did that have to do with anything?  And then Buggy remembered: his moratorium on sad topics had been for one day only.  With a huff, Buggy turned away from Shanks.  He didn’t want to see Shanks’ face while he asked his question.

“Buggy.  Buggy, look at me?  Please?”  Shanks’ hand tugged at Buggy’s shoulder, a silent echo of his request.

Silently groaning—he used to say no to Shanks all the time, when had he lost the knack for it?!—Buggy rolled over and said, “Fine.  But I get my sad question first!”

Shanks considered him.  He nodded.  “That’s fair.”

Great!  If only he’d had one prepared.  Buggy’s thoughts went every which way—what did he want to know, what intel could he get out of Shanks?—before latching onto something totally useless, but also deeply important.  “Did you know?”  Realizing this was stupidly vague, he added, “About the kid?”

Shanks’ brow furrowed.  “‘The kid?’”

“Ace.”

“Ah.”

“Did you know he was Roger’s?”

Shanks sighed and laid down.  Staring at the ceiling, he said, “I… had my suspicions.  When I met him, a couple years back, he told me a lot about himself.  His dreams… where he was born… it was suggestive.  And then there was his name.”

Buggy groaned.  “Who names a kid after their sword?!”

Shanks chuckled.  “Roger.”

Buggy sighed.  “Roger.”  He propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Shanks.  “So he didn’t—no one told you?”  Told you and not me?

Shanks shook his head.  “Who would have?  Who could have?”

Buggy shrugged.  “I don’t know, doesn’t that haki stuff sometimes let you talk in each other’s heads or something?”

Shanks laughed.  “No!  It doesn’t work like that!  How many times—”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t know how it works, I don’t care how it works!  I just—” Wanted to know if I’d been overlooked again.  “—wanted to know if you knew.”

“No.”  Shanks eyes softened, as if he’d heard Buggy’s real reason.  He reached up to curl the end of Buggy’s ponytail around a finger and tug Buggy closer.  “No, I think the only person Roger told was Garp.”

Buggy made a disgusted noise, which was not at all strangled by his reaction to Shanks’ hand in his hair. (Nope!  That wasn’t provoking any kind of feeling in Buggy at all!) “Garp,” he muttered darkly.  “What the hell was Roger thinking?!”

“Probably that Garp could keep his son safe.”  In the dim light, Shanks’ eyes were hooded, unreadable.

“Oh yeah, he kept him real safe,” Buggy said dryly.

“As a kid, I mean.”

“What’s that matter?  However safe his childhood was, he’s dead now,” Buggy snapped.  “Our childhood was about as far from safe as possible, but at least we’re alive!  At least we were cared for!  That kid… the way he thought of himself…” Buggy buried his face in Shanks’ chest and sighed deeply.  “It wasn’t right.  One of us should’ve had him.”

Shanks’ hand came to rest on the back of Buggy’s neck.  “Being a dad at sixteen would’ve been hard.”

“I guess,” Buggy grumbled.  “But we would have managed.”

Shanks’ hand went stiff and still, fingers digging into Buggy’s neck a little.  Buggy realized what he’d said and started to sweat.  He’d been hoping to distract Shanks from his question, not bring them back around to that topic himself.

“Buggy.  Please look at me.”

Buggy craned his neck back to look Shanks in the eye, resting the point of his chin on his chest in a pointed, hopefully painful move.

Shanks grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Buggy, but I have to know.  When did you ever want to be my first mate?”  How did I miss that, his eyes seemed to ask.

It was about as hard to look at as Buggy had expected.  He averted his eyes.  “That last year with Roger?  Maybe earlier, I don’t know.”  Shanks started stroking his thumb across the spot where Buggy’s neck met his hairline.  With that bit of contact soothing him, he managed to get the truth out.  “I thought it was the only way I’d get to the last island.”

“…you wanted to go there together?  That long ago?”

Buggy grimaced.  That awed tone of voice told him Shanks had gotten the wrong idea.  “More like I didn't think I could get there alone.”

“Oh.”  After a moment’s pause, Shanks went back to stroking Buggy’s hair.  Buggy relaxed, cheek sinking into Shanks’ chest.  His heartbeat thudded away by Buggy’s ear in a slow, steady comfort.  I’m here, I’m alive, I’m here… “Then I’m glad.”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we didn’t stay together back then,” Shanks said, sounding almost surprised by his words. Buggy stared blankly into space. Was he hearing Shanks right?  Shanks nodded, surer, and said, “Yeah, never thought I’d say that, but… I want you to believe in yourself more than I want you to be with me, Buggy.”

Buggy blinked a few times, fighting off a sharp stinging in his eyes.

Shanks tensed underneath him.  “Buggy?”

Buggy shook his head, lifted himself up the barest amount, and pressed their lips together.  Shanks made a soft, protesting noise, but Buggy would not be moved.  He wouldn’t express these feelings in words, it couldn’t be done.  This was the best he could do.

With a resigned little sigh, Shanks sank back into the bed, fingers threaded into Buggy’s hair, and let Buggy kiss him.  Their faces came together and drifted apart so slowly, so many times, that Buggy would be hard-pressed to pinpoint the moment when they finally stopped, but stop they did, as sleep claimed them again.

When Buggy woke for the second time, early morning sunlight gleamed through the windows over Shanks’ bed.  He was warm and well-rested, sated in almost every meaning of the word, and had no interest in getting up.  And who could blame him?  Shanks, still asleep, was lying on his back facing Buggy, his hand loosely curled around the back of Buggy’s neck, unconsciously keeping him close.  Not that Buggy had made any effort to get away in his sleep; his head was on Shanks’ shoulder, his hand resting lightly against Shanks’ carotid, where he must have kept track of that pulse all night.  I'm here, I'm alive, I'm here… Shanks’ face was so close that Buggy could see every small hair of the dark red mustache that had grown back in overnight, could feel the air flutter against his cheek every time he breathed. Which—well, the sour, alcoholic morning breath didn’t exactly fit the morning’s atmosphere, but Buggy had smelled worse.

Buggy drifted a little, enjoying the gentle rocking of a boat at sea, the human contact with someone who cared for him, eyes shuttered against the sun’s attempt to wake him fully.  He didn’t want to get up until he had to.  That motion of the boat meant they’d already left port.  It wouldn’t be long before they met up with Buggy’s ship and crew, before this time together came to an end.  Buggy intended to enjoy it while it lasted.  Maybe if he laid here long enough, concentrating on his warm satisfaction, he’d be able to preserve it in his memory.

Outside, something fell to the deck with a loud crunch of wood on wood, the moment was ruined, and Buggy came to his senses.

He grimaced.  What was he thinking?  Preserving the memory of this sweet, soft morning?  Ugh.  Buggy rolled away from Shanks, his sappy thoughts snapping him to true wakefulness.  What was he, some dockside lover pining away for a pirate he only saw once a decade?  As if!  If anyone was leaving someone behind here, it was Buggy!  And he wasn’t gonna be some sappy excuse for a pirate either, staring wistfully at the horizon, thinking of someone he couldn’t be with—no way!  Best to start as he meant to go on: by reminding himself of all the reasons he’d left in the first place, reasons why he would not miss Shanks at all.

He got up, not bothering to wake Shanks but not going quietly about his business either.  His clothes were scattered all over the room—which was, he noticed with a touch of amusement and (ugh) affection, a lot less messy than it had been when he stopped by yesterday morning—and they’d gotten all mixed in with Shanks’ clothes, too.  After a few false starts (they’d been right, Buggy could not fit in Shanks’ pants these days), Buggy made himself sartorially presentable.  One last check in the mirror hanging next to Shanks’ closet, and—what the fuck.

Buggy gaped.  He looked like something out of a horror story.  His chin was streaked with red, his cheeks a ghastly pale gray where the powder hadn’t rubbed away entirely, just the faintest hint of the original crossbones showing through.

Good god, this makeup wasn’t just cheap, it was really cheaply made.  The kind of stuff that would barely last an hour on an expressive face, let alone a day.  Buggy put a finger to his cheekbone and watched with dismay as powder came off in a little cloud of dust. Not even his good setting spray would save this stuff.  And the way the lip had smeared was—

A thought occurred to Buggy, and he spun around to stare at Shanks in horror.  Marks that he hadn’t noticed last night were in the light of day very obvious lip prints in a deep red tint.  On his neck, his chest, all the way down his chest in a very telling progression… oh no.  No, no, no.  This could not be borne.

Buggy dug around in his pockets and pulled out the makeup removing stick he’d gotten from Galdino.  He’d thought he might need to touch up the makeup a bit in the morning, but not this much.  Glancing between Shanks, the little wax stick, and his own increasingly panicked expression in the mirror, Buggy came up with a plan.

He finished making himself presentable— cleaning up the edges of his lip and removing almost all of the powder from his face, save the slashes of blue meant to draw attention to his eyes—and leapt onto the bed, jolting Shanks into consciousness.

“Shanks!” he hissed.

“Mm?”

“Shanks!” he hissed again.  Shanks didn’t stir.  “I’ll hit you,” he warned, and Shanks groaned piteously, hungover.

“Not into that so much,” he mumbled, “but if you insist…”

Buggy flushed, shoved that reaction down deep, and said, “Would you wake up already?!  I have to go, and you need to promise not to leave your rooms until I’m back.”

“Hm, ’s that so?”  Shanks cracked open one eye, finally, and frowned a little at the sight of Buggy, fully dressed.  “Now who’s the one in a rush?”

“Didn’t I just say I’ll be back?” Buggy chided.  He flicked a finger against Shanks’ chest.  “You need makeup remover, and I assume you don’t keep any in here.”

“No.”  Shanks blinked.  He looked down at himself.  “Why would I—oh.”  He looked under the blanket.  “Oh, wow.”

“You see the problem,” Buggy said dryly.

“I sure do,” Shanks said, voice wavering with disbelief and laughter.  “I mean, wow, Buggy.”

“Shut up!  It’s not my fault—those guys went and bought me new makeup yesterday!”

“That was sweet of them.”

“Yeah, that and three hundred berries will get you a cup of coffee.  Stupid me, I assumed a couple dozen guys doing a day’s work could afford something a little better than this.”  Buggy waggled the wax stick around; powder rained off it onto the bed.  “This stick’s run its course, so I’m off to beg another one…” Buggy gave Shanks’ lipstick-marked chest a considering look.  “Maybe two… off Galdino.”

“Bring him tea,” Shanks suggested.  “Roux says he’s more agreeable after a cup of Earl Grey.”  At Buggy’s look of surprise, Shanks smirked.  “That guy’s not the only one keeping tabs on people around here, you know.”

Huh.  Well, Buggy would have to rethink every conversation he’d had with or in the presence of Lucky Roux.  Later.  For now, a bribe of tea sounded like a better plan than the one he’d had (shouting until he got what he wanted).  He headed for the door, but was stymied by a hand tangling in his sash.  He glared over his shoulder at Shanks.

“What now?”

Shanks—Buggy blinked, not believing what he was seeing—pouted.  “Can’t I get a kiss goodbye?”

Buggy blinked twice, not believing what he was hearing.  “You must be joking.”

“You aren’t gonna kiss me again after you get this lipstick off me, not when that would undo all your hard work,” Shanks said, sounding very reasonable for a man with his bottom lip stuck out so far.  “But I need a kiss.  Just one more, please?”

If someone had told him even yesterday that Shanks would become such a baby the second he was shown the smallest bit of affection… “You know what?  Fine.”  A delighted expression bloomed on Shanks’ face as Buggy walked back to his side. Buggy smiled, laid a loud, wet kiss dead-center on his forehead, and pulled back to watch his face crumple.

The pouting was, if possible, worse this time.  “Buggy, come on.” Shanks tugged at his sash again.

“I don’t know who told you this behavior was attractive, but they did you a real disservice,” Buggy said, splitting at the waist when it became clear Shanks would rather pull the sash loose than let go.  “I’m going.  I—” Actually, if he was flying anyway… “—do your windows open?”

Shanks dropped the pouty look—ugh, Buggy knew he’d been faking, what an ass—and glanced up.  “Yeah, there’s a hinge somewhere…”

Buggy flew up and found a simple latch that let the windows swing out.  Not great for hiding that the windows were open, but sensible for evacuation purposes.  He flicked the latch and carefully swung open one window.  Just big enough for him to get out, excellent.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

Shanks gave him a fond smile.  “As you wish.”

Giving Shanks a wary look—he really couldn’t tell how many of these strange comments were jokes anymore—Buggy floated out the window and off toward the mess.  Roux happily put together a mug of tea for Galdino when asked.  He also pulled out a cup of drinking chocolate for Buggy, unprompted.

Now that Buggy knew to look for it, it was a little uncanny how well Roux had him figured out after all of two days’ acquaintance.

Well, however well Roux knew Buggy, Buggy didn’t know him at all; he couldn’t tell if the grin on Roux’s face was a smug, knowing one, or if that was just how he smiled.  As Roux was adding the finishing touches to the tea—apparently Galdino liked it with lavender syrup and steamed milk, which was about as fancy as Buggy might have expected—Buggy thought, what the hell, the first mate already knows, and asked for something to eat, chef’s choice, and a bowl of that tomato-egg stuff Shanks liked, both to be picked up when Buggy was done bothering Galdino.

Roux’s grin didn’t change when he agreed, which answered that question.

When Galdino didn’t answer the door, Buggy went ahead and broke in. (Though was it really breaking in when it was supposed to be your room too?) He was dead to the world, those wax plugs in his ears again.  Buggy started rapping his knuckles against the headboard, knowing the vibrations would get through even if normal sounds wouldn’t.  After a minute, Galdino groaned, rolled over, and wrapped himself in a cocoon of wax.

Buggy paused.  That was different.

“Did you get drunk last night or something?” he asked, speaking loudly to be heard through the cocoon.  He couldn’t think of another reason Galdino would be this resistant to getting up.

The wax melted away to reveal a miserable, red-eyed man huddled in a ball on the bed.  “Or something,” he agreed.  Spotting the tea in Buggy’s hands, Galdino made a pathetic little sound and reached for it weakly, fingers stretching out but his arms not actually moving.  “Those Red-Haired Pirates do not mess around when it comes to drinking games.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Buggy said, passing the tea along to Galdino, who drank slowly and gratefully.  “Shanks could polish off a bottle of wine in an afternoon with no problem by the time we were thirteen, it’s only natural he’d find a crew with similar tolerances.”

Galdino groaned. “Yes, well, that would have been helpful information to have yesterday.”  Draining the mug, he said, “What did you want, then?”

“Hey, not every interaction has to be transactional, you kn—” Buggy started to say.  Galdino gave him a narrow-eyed look, and he gave up mid-word.  “More of the makeup removing sticks, please.  The shit those guys got me was cheap as hell, it got everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”  Galdino’s eyebrow shot up.  “Like… everywhere everywhere?”

“…and how’s that any of your business?” Buggy asked flatly, glaring daggers at him.

“You can’t blame a man for being curious,” Galdino said with an unrepentant little smirk.

“The hell I can’t, you flashy, nosy know-it-all!”  Buggy grabbed the closest weapon—a pillow—and tried to smother Galdino with it.  Galdino shrieked, shielding himself from the onslaught with wax armor.  After a brief battle of wills, Buggy stopped trying to kill Galdino, and Galdino made him a full dozen makeup removing wax sticks, at which point Buggy attempted to smother him again, and half the sticks melted and bound Buggy’s hands up, and—anyway.  Buggy got out of there eventually, with a reasonable number of wax sticks hidden away on his person.

As he left that room there was a tugging at his waist that had Buggy looking back, remembering too late that his waist wasn’t here, and grumbling to himself.  Oh, was he taking too long for the poor Emperor of the Sea?  Tough luck.  If someone wanted to see Shanks that badly, they deserved to see him as he was, all lipstick-stained and sex-haired.  So long as Buggy wasn’t in the room when it happened, it wouldn’t embarrass him. (Probably.)

The tugging continued, and Buggy rolled his eyes and let it happen, even when it changed from a tugging to a gentle pressure, what felt like Shanks’ whole hand pressed against his waist. What was Shanks thinking, touching Buggy like this?  Was he just lying in bed, staring at Buggy’s disembodied legs?   What a weirdo.  Buggy smiled—then, remembering himself, frowned.  What a creep.

At least the mess was empty.  Buggy hadn’t checked a clock, but he suspected the night shift and first shift men had already come through, and those without an early schedule had yet to get up.  It was super convenient, actually: no one but Roux would see him doing something sort of thoughtful for Shanks. Not that he deserved it, the way he was acting right now, making Buggy start to sweat with the effort of not reacting to the hand on his waist, the thumb rubbing little circles into his skin.

Roux had, somehow, just finished preparing the food, though Buggy had taken twice as long as he’d meant to with Galdino.  He had everything packed up in little boxes, tied together with butcher’s twine, a paper cup that reeked of grassy green tea sitting on top of the stack.

“Let me know what you think of what I made for you today,” Roux said with a grin as Buggy went to leave.  “I got a little experimental.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Buggy said with a grin.  “I almost think you could get me to eat tomatoes and like it.”

Roux laughed.  “I still haven’t managed to get Shanks to eat blueberries, but I guess anything’s possible!”

That had Buggy laughing to himself the rest of the way back to Shanks’ rooms. He’d forgotten Shanks’ thing about blueberries! As a child, Buggy had accused Shanks of copying him, pretending to hate a blue food in revenge for Buggy legitimately hating a red one, but the truth was he’d always been a little squeamish about their yellow-green insides.  Hadn’t liked the look of them, or so he’d said.

Oh, the pranks Buggy had pulled!  Hiding a single overripe blueberry in all kinds of terrible places: the bottom of a bowl of porridge, on the seat of a chair, gently placed between the pages of a novel Shanks had bought at the last port town… man, he’d been such a menace as a kid.  But Shanks had given as good as he got, so it never felt unfair to mess with him.  As they’d gotten older, though, he’d stopped reacting.  Either stopped getting mad, or stopped showing he was mad, Buggy had never been quite sure which.  God, it had pissed him off. Shanks was only five months older than Buggy, where did he get off suddenly being so grown-up?

And now Shanks was more easygoing than ever!  Buggy didn’t trust it; no one was that unruffled by him, especially not when he was being obnoxious on purpose.  Even now that he’d seen some of what Shanks had been hiding, Buggy knew there was more to it.  Behind those fond smiles and carefree laughter, there was a part of Shanks he didn’t trust Buggy with.

Which was fine!  It was the most sensible thing he’d ever seen Shanks do, honestly—Buggy was a no-good, thieving, backstabbing pirate, he shouldn’t be trusted—but that he wouldn’t admit to it pissed Buggy off.  To others, sure, let Shanks play the fool, whatever, but to Buggy?  The least Shanks could do was be honest about lying to him.

As he was approaching the open window to Shanks’ room, a sudden jolt of sensation nearly made him yelp.  Shanks had shifted his hand lower in a caress that sent a shiver up Buggy’s spine, and now he was rubbing his thumb across Buggy’s hipbone, just like yesterday in the park, which was… Buggy shivered again.  Not something to be thinking about in public, damn him! He flew in the window, scowling, dropped the food on Shanks’ nightstand, scowling, and floated back up to shut the window with a scowl on his face.

“Buggy, hey!” Shanks was sitting on the edge of his bed. He’d found pants at some point, but not bothered with a shirt. He grinned. “You got us breakfast?”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Buggy said, turning that scowl on him.

“Hm?” Shanks said, an innocent look on his face.  He was still stroking Buggy’s hip, like that four-inch curve of flesh and bone was the most fascinating thing he’d ever felt.

“I refuse to give you your stupid goodbye kiss, so you decide to rile me up while I can’t do anything to stop you, so when I get back I’ll be unable to help myself, huh?  Is that it?”

Shanks blinked.  He looked from Buggy’s lower half, standing between his legs, to Buggy’s upper half, floating above him.  “Couldn’t you have just… stepped back, or kicked me, if you didn’t like it?”

Buggy opened his mouth to respond and found he didn’t have one.  He could have done that.  He just… hadn’t wanted to.

Shanks began to smile.  “‘Unable to help yourself,’ you said?”

Buggy scowled.  “Oh, you’re lucky you’re hot.”  He shoved Shanks back and climbed on top of him, ignoring the laughter that burst out of Shanks as his head hit the mattress.

Later, very relaxed and searching for reasons to stay mad at Shanks, he was annoyed to learn that the boxes Roux had packed everything in were special heat-retaining boxes that could stay warm for upwards of half a day if left alone.  He couldn’t even revenge himself on Shanks with a cold breakfast!  He tried to eat resentfully, but the food was just too good to manage it: thin cuts of yesterday’s fancy ham, fried with syrup to a salty-sweet crisp and layered with fried eggs, cheese, and a sour spicy sauce on a hot dog bun.  Roux really was some kind of miracle-worker; the bun wasn’t even soggy.

At least with a hand-held breakfast he could scrub aggressively at lipstick stains with his free hand while he ate.  Shanks had to hunch over his nightstand to eat his breakfast (the tomato-egg stuff Buggy had requested, served over fried rice with what looked like spicy pickled cabbage and the fancy ham mixed in), and obviously he had no hand free to pitch in.  He was happy to criticize Buggy’s technique, though, saying, “Won’t pressing hard enough to bruise defeat the purpose of cleaning me up?” as he leaned into the scrubbing motion.

This was, unfortunately, a reasonable point.

Muttering, “Well excuse me, I didn’t realize you bruised so easily,” under his breath, Buggy switched his focus to less easily bruised parts of Shanks.  Just as he was getting started, there was a knock at Shanks’ door.  The two of them shared a look—Buggy recently reclothed and fed, Shanks sitting there half-naked with his half-full bowl of food—and Buggy sighed.  He split himself a couple ways, leaving one arm behind to scrub at the lipstick on Shanks‘ chest, floating his head and the rest of his torso to the other room.

“What?” he barked out, sounding so annoyed at being interrupted that (hopefully) no one would question why Buggy was in Shanks’ rooms at this hour.

“Oh, good,” said Benn Beckman.  He walked in, terrifying Buggy, who’d been fairly certain that door was locked.  “I didn’t have any idea where to check if you weren’t here,” he admitted, glancing past Buggy and making a face at the glimpse he caught of Shanks.  “Boss, I think you’re gonna need to just give in and bathe to get all of that off,” he said, before returning his attentions to Buggy.

But Buggy was too distracted by this piece of information to let Beckman get back to his point.  “There are bathing facilities on this ship?” he said, horrified.  I could have gotten actually clean?  Jabbing a thumb at Shanks, he said, “And he still looks like an unwashed rat half the time?!”

“Hey!” Shanks said, affronted.

Beckman coughed, poorly hiding a surprised laugh. “Well, I can’t speak to my captain’s personal hygiene decisions, but yes, we do have showers, and yes, we deliberately hid them from you.”  Buggy gaped, aghast.  “Our potable water reserves and salinity filters are decent, but we just don’t have the capacity to let hundreds of people use them over such a short span of time,” Beckman admitted.  “It would have caused interpersonal conflict none of us wanted to deal with to only give some people access to the showers, especially if there appeared to be any signs of favoritism.” He gave Shanks a sideways look. “And there would have been.” Shanks shrugged affably, not denying it.

Buggy scowled, but nodded.  This was a fair point.  He'd been avoiding thinking about similar issues that would be sure to come up when he attempted to squeeze all of the Impel Down prisoners onto the Big Top.  The space, the supplies, the food… he needed to find a proper home base, an island no one cared about in Paradise, where he could leave most of these guys while he figured out what the hell he was going to do with a crew that had more than quadrupled in size overnight.  Multiple ships? (How?) A bigger ship? (How?) A permanent land-based population? (Who?  Where?)

Buggy shook his head.  Stupid to borrow problems from the future when he had plenty on his plate in the present.  “What did you want with me, then?”

Beckman tilted his head towards the door.  “Captain Buggy, if you don’t mind?”

Oh.  Using his title, and wanting to talk without Shanks overhearing?  This was serious.  Buggy dropped the wax stick—Beckman was right, a shower with lye soap would work just as well on makeup this cheap—and reconnected his body, following Beckman into the hall.�� Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “I’m listening.”

Beckman ran a hand across his face.  In a ragged undertone, he said, “Our timeline is a lot tighter than we’re making it look.  There’s a trade wind we need to catch tonight, and to do that we need you and yours off this ship within an hour of docking.  And, well, you saw how slow-moving that bunch can be.  Can you get those guys in some kind of order?  God knows they aren’t going to listen to anyone but you.”

Buggy nearly laughed. Encouragement to boss around those guys some more?  Was that all?  With a grin, he gave Beckman a slap on the arm.  “Tell you what,” he said, pushing Beckman back towards Shanks’ room, “you take care of your idiot in here, and I’ll take care of all of mine out there.”

Beckman sighed, relief making him look ten years younger.  “Deal.”

(If a protesting sound came from within Shanks’ room, both of them chose to ignore it.)

[bomberqueen17]

writing etc

Well so I did push through on writing this week. Retrieved my real computer yesterday so I did all of the work on my old laptop, resurrected, short on battery life, unable to charge except for some reason from one particular outlet in the house, who knows why.

But anyhow. I finally got through the block on the next chapter of the Peace-Tied continuity, which-- I just scrolled back in a Discord thread where I'd been discussing it and I got as far as December of 2022 before i was squarely before this point. So it's been a big block for a while. And now I'm like.........

where was I going after this

LOL it's such a weird feeling, to have finally worked past a scene you'd been planning on writing-- and the thing is, I really wasn't sure which direction it would go, my first draft of it was way too much one direction and I'd written it ahead of the setup, and once I did the setup that draft didn't really work anymore, and some of the setup was from ideas I'd had years before, and needed fixing, and anyway it's been many drafts and I wasn't sure where it would come out. And I'm still not sure what it actually means. But now I have to go back and look at what my ideas were for the next bits, and figure out where I'm taking those.

And the chapter isn't even ready to post, i still need to go back and make sure I've walked the fine line between "character doing what I need him to" and "ooc", and I'm ngl I'm a bit resigned to it coming down on the "ooc" side, but I console myself nobody who minds that is still reading along with this unless they're quietly hate-reading in which case you do you, I respect that.

So I'm actually at the point in both ongoing serieses where I'm like...... past a big block I've been trying to strategize around for a long time. And on to a next section I've mostly not let myself write ahead. So it's weird uncharted territory, especially when you're not an outliner. (I can't do outlines, really, I can only speculate about what might happen next, and more often than you'd think I absolutely know where to take things despite not having overtly planned them, but. I secretly suspect this takes up all of the brain space I have, which most people use for like, their daily life, and this is why ADHD meds can't fix me, because my head is entirely full of fictional realities and there's just not room for real ones. IDK. Can I know where I left my keys? No I may not have that information because I filled the place where it goes with different Wet Cat Boy scenarios, sorry.)

anyway I think it's even odds, looking back at the last posted chapter, how many commenters expect this scene to go where it went.

Behind the cut: a snippet of what happens next in Eagle Sable, Lozenge Gules, which left off with Iorveth's Unicorn Badge story which had taken me a couple of years to write too. I will update that chapter soon so don't click if you really want to be surprised I guess, LOL. But I don't realistically know how long the final edits will take me. I'm off to the farm tomorrow probably, and it's three weeks there this time, so. Not a ton of time for writing, coming up. But the hard part's done, I hope.

“You might have to hold the pup’s collar,” Iorveth said, cutting the consonants sharply to punctuate his languid tone, “he seems a bit overexcited.” Roche had forgotten about the dog collar. He’d noticed Gascon was wearing it, but that memory had fallen right out of his head. But there it was, thick and studded, brown leather with sturdy brass hardware, exactly the style of collar Flash and Nosewise had worn. He reached down and cradled Gascon’s jaw, just as Iorveth had done to his. “I don’t think I need to haul on that collar,” he said softly. “I know a good dog when I see one.”  “Takes one to know one,” Gascon said, brash and uneasy. Iorveth clicked his tongue disapprovingly, but said nothing. Roche looked consideringly into Gascon’s face. He wasn’t a bad-looking fellow, really, strong-jawed and young, and even more appealing with the brashness shredded away a little.  “Well,” Roche said, “time to prove it,” and leaned in to press his mouth to Gascon’s. Gascon tasted like wine too, but it tasted different in his mouth than it had in Iorveth’s. Roche pulled from his physical memory and slid his tongue into Gascon’s mouth just as Iorveth had to him, and Gascon made a soft little whimpering noise and opened up to him. 

[babysharl]

I really really wanted to get an update of Permanent Mark out before the end of the year, but as it stands, I still have 2 scenes to finish on the upcoming chapter (currently sitting at 10k), so I don't think I'll be able to make it :C

I'm posting a snippet of it below the cut as an apology, cause I know it's taking me forever to write :S Happy New Year! 💙

Max didn't agree or denied to have been worried, but Charles knew both of them knew it was because it was obvious. God, they hadn't even been talking consistently again for more than a month, and Charles was already making Max worry. And in a strange way, he not only felt guilty about that, but also just… About having Max calling him and feeling good about Max calling him. Yeah, they had been talking, but that hadn't extended to calls. And Charles… Against his better judgement, he had missed that. He had missed Max's voice too. Even his breathing, as the silence hung over them. 

But Charles had texted him for a reason. 

“I, um.” He started, having to clear his throat. Why the fuck was this so hard. Charles tried swallowing down the knot on his throat. “I'm sorry.” Max’s breath didn't even hitch. Charles breathed in deep and trudged on. “I'm sorry about the other day. Last week...  I didn't—. I wanted to get that coffee with you." 

One. Two. Three whole breaths before Max even broke the silence. 

"Okay." Max said then, slowly. Charles could almost picture him. Frown, lips opened just a smidge as he breathed through his mouth, seemingly very calm. His tone had been clipped, though. And perhaps a decade ago Charles would've correctly guessed Max was trying to hide being hurt. Right now, he didn't know.

"I've been thinking about a hundred different things lately and—. Which is not an excuse. I know it isn't.” Max was still quiet and it wasn't helping Charles feel any more surefooted. “I wasn’t turning you down. I mean, I was. I did. I was—.” He stopped himself,  cringing at having tripped over his words like that. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. Those times where he and Max fooled around before he left for F1 were long gone. Besides, this wasn’t that. They were both way past that, they were adults and a romantic relationship should not happen. But the fact that Charles was apologising over the phone felt weird. Too weird. “Can we meet up?"

Sometimes he wished he had planned conversations up ahead because of incidents like this one. Just blurting that out. After he had gone radio silent for a week. Which wouldn’t have been weird, really, had it happened a month ago. A month ago, they weren’t even texting regularly. 

Max didn't immediately answer. Charles listened to him breathing as he counted the seconds. When he got to thirty-two Max sighed, then finally asked, "What is this?"

Okay. That was fair. 

"I want to explain." No reaction. “I want to apologise in person. I want to explain why I said no.” It was the least he could do. Max didn't deserve to deal with the wreck he was currently, but he was dealing with it and he was worrying. The least Charles could do was be a fucking adult and explain to him why he had turned him down like that. And stopped texting him. 

Max sighed, right against his ear through the phone. "I shouldn’t let you."

He didn't need confirmation that Max was hurt by his words last week. It was still hard to hear it. It was the reason why Charles had wanted to stop hanging out with Max in the first place. He was a mess, he didn't know what to do with his life. He barely spent any time looking after himself, and he knew he was a shit friend. It was a miracle even Joris still talked to him. For years it had always been me, me, me, me, and Charles felt disgusted at himself when he realised he still did that. Even with Max right now. He knew he needed to apologise to him, but he hadn’t really thought about the consequences of that for Max.

His mouth was dry and his voice sounded scratchy when he admitted, "You shouldn’t, no."

___________________________________

The first six chapters are on AO3 ^^

[imreallyloveleee]

for @burberrycanary and @i-know-you-can who asked about my time loop fic: i started this so long ago! i'd love to eventually finish it. it's based on the movie palm springs. i've written like 5k words, here's a snippet!

Soon after, the wedding planner comes to fetch the bridal party for photos. It’s a sunny, cloudless September day, but though it’s technically still summertime, the air carries a slight chill this far up in the mountains. Betty and Josie huddle close together, giggling and shivering in their strapless, sage green dresses as they await instructions from the photographer.

All fourteen of them are gathering together for the first of the group shots when Archie steps forward with a frown. “Wait. Where’s Jug?”

Betty blinks. He’s right; their party of fourteen is actually thirteen. Jughead is nowhere in sight.

“Jesus Christ,” Veronica mutters.

“Is he the hot emo one?” Betty overhears one of the sorority friends whisper to another. She narrows her eyes.

“He’s been acting weird all day, bro,” Reggie pipes up. “Like, weirder than usual.”

“Do you know where he is?” Josie murmurs, close to Betty’s ear.

She shakes her head. “No idea.”

Veronica and the photographer are debating whether to send someone back to the house to find him when the man in question strolls into view, looking utterly unconcerned with the fact that he is not only late, but the obvious target of the bride’s ire.

“Torombolo. Ven aqui,” Veronica shouts, both hands fisted in the flowy skirt of her gown, as though she’s preparing to charge at him. Archie takes her by the elbow, slipping his hand down her arm to hold her hand (and, presumably, hold her back).

Jughead continues towards them at an unhurried pace. Even from twenty feet away, Betty can tell he looks miserable; his tie is undone, hanging loose around his neck. He’s still wearing his gray beanie, even though she’s one hundred percent certain its presence at the wedding was vetoed by Veronica no more than thirty seconds after Archie got down on bended knee.

“Sorry I’m late,” he drawls, coming to a stop before them. “I thought you’d get started without me.”

“You’re the best man, Jug.” Archie sounds confused and angry – like he’s confused about how angry he should be. “Are you drunk or something?”

Jughead doesn’t answer at first, just smiles down at his shoes, hands fisted into the pockets of his dress pants. “No, not drunk.”

“Fix your tie,” Veronica snaps. “We have a schedule to stick to.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Then have someone fix it for you.”

The blonde sorority friend who’d called him hot and emo takes a step forward, but Jughead turns towards Betty, making eye contact for the first time since dinner last night. Her heart skips a beat.

“Betty, will you fix my tie?”

He makes the question sound…sarcastic, almost, but she nods, and steps forward. Anything for Veronica.

She wills her hands to stay steady as she loops the knot around the base of his neck. She hasn’t been this close to him since…well, since the night he broke her heart.

His Adam’s apple works in his throat as she finishes, pressing the knot flat against his shirt. “All done,” she tells him.

“Thank you.” Jughead swallows. “By the way, your earring is loose.” He gestures towards her left ear, and then walks away.

Frowning, Betty reaches up to touch her earring. It’s in place, but as she runs a finger over the back, she realizes the little rubber stopper is about to fall off the end of the post. She pushes it back into place, firm against the back of her earlobe.

Strange, that Jughead had noticed.

[storyshark2005]

Oh I love this game!

Paul / "Who are you?" and Intermission: Heart sound fascinating! 💜

Thank you my friend!!! Let's see, the Paul fic will be fun for Oasis fans! But I'll talk about the other because I loved Smallville and haven't thought about it enough the last couple years!

(KEEP READING, if you like!)

"Intermission: Heart" is the middle part of this big fucking Smallville saga I started Fall of 2020; I don't have any of it published but it's like 160k+ words, and probably 80% finished, and it's both kind of a mess and maybe some of the best writing I've ever done. But the scope is big, I like that, I like big projects, and it's basically split into two novels. Here's a synopsis of Book I I typed up a couple of years ago:

The entirety of East of Eden’s story arc plays out over two books: ‘Book 1: In the Garden’, and ‘Book 2: The Land of Nod’. The first half of the story sketches a 2020 landscape of the characters a decade after we last saw Clark and Lex in the show Smallville, but leaves some of that established canon at the scrapyard. Lex never died when he destroyed the Fortress at the end of Season 7, but he almost did, and part of his salvation includes a different twist on the origins of his son, Conner. In this story, Lex made the plans to create Conner, but it is his half-sister Tess who finishes the job in order to give her brother a reason to keep on living. Tess creates Conner, the genetic hybrid of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent.

So one of the 'villains', is John Corben, in the DC universe he's Metallo. He's got a heart made of kryptonite, and it's a threat to Clark and to his son Conner. In the comics, John's a stock Superman villain, but Smallville at least attempted to give him a sympathetic backstory. They gave him a murdered sister, and made him a former war correspondent for the Daily Planet who worked in Afghanistan. And then through a series of comical yet touching events (Lex Luthor involved, of COURSE) he gets kidnapped and experimented on, and his heart and vascular system are replaced by a liquid kryptonite artificial heart, which was painful and tortuous for him. He basically takes his anger out from his sister's death, and his unasked for surgery, out on Superman. Even though Smallville post-Season 4 was mostly terrible, I really liked John.

So he's in my story. I won't spoil plot points, but "Intermission: Heart" is tentatively slated to act as a middle piece, a John POV one-shot that would slot right between the main two books in the series. I love it. I loved John's voice, and I had a lot of freedom with him. I made him born in central Kansas, I gave him and his sister a close bond over basketball, I made his mother bipolar and killed his father off with a heart-attack at fifty-two-- I gave him this weird, funny kind of odd-couple roommate relationship with another rogue's gallery villain named Winslow Schott. I gave him a romance that's totally nowhere in canon.

Anyway, I was always hoping to finish the second novel before I started publishing any part of the series, so I would love to do that at some point and get this out into the world.

SORRY FOR LONG WINDEDNESS but if you're still reading, here's a snippet!!

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

Winslow is a freak, but he’s a genius, too. He used to work for Queen Industries, but got fired because he was caught sneaking explosives into consumer products. 

Into children’s toys. 

He opens his life to John, sets him up in an extra bedroom in his basement apartment on the southside of town. The neighborhood is dark and dangerous, even worse than Becca’s old place. But the apartment is renovated and clean. There’s a spacious kitchen and a huge common living area, half of which is taken up by Winslow’s lab-- long black counters full of ongoing projects,  chemistry sets and piles of wire and batteries; weird, half-constructed robots and one-eyed dolls; Winslow talks to them and sometimes, they talk back.

In another life, John would have run the other way. But he isn’t the man he used to be. John doesn’t have any family left, he doesn’t have any friends, and his meteorite heart is failing. He can only stay awake a few hours a day, he shuffles around the apartment, leaning on walls and trying to keep food down. 

Winslow finally sits him down to have a real look. He gets the lead plate off easily, with a blowtorch and a hammer, and it’s a literal weight off John’s chest.

“It’s the meteor rock,” Winslow concludes, pushing his magnifying lens to the side. “The apparatus is burning through it too fast. It wasn’t designed to run long-term. Shoddy engineering,” he concludes, with a click of his tongue.

“Am I going to die?”

Winslow grins. “No. I’m going to fix it.”

Two days later, Winslow slots in a new central cylinder with freshly machined parts. He replaces all of the silicone fittings around the conduit and he even polishes the metal casing. He tells John he put in some kind of regulator too, so he shouldn’t get any more adrenaline spikes. It’s the most normal-- no, the most human John has felt since before he got hit by the truck.

John taps his chest experimentally. “And they call him the Man of Steel,” he jokes. It’s maybe the first one he’s told since Becca died.

“It’s not steel,” Winslow shakes his head from the kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull down a loaf of bread. “It’s some kind of new alloy. Alien, maybe. LexCorp was always messing around with alien technology. And kryptonite, of course.” 

“Kryptonite?” 

“Smallville meteor rock, from the shower in ‘89. That’s what they call it. Everyone from 33.1 was there because of the radiation exposure. It changes people, turns them into freaks.”

“Hold on--” John’s latent journalist brain is spinning, Smallville, LexCorp, meteor freaks-- 

John was only a little kid but he remembers his first-grade teacher pulling one of those TVs on a cart into the classroom, turning the lights off and explaining what was happening. And he remembers other articles, years of fallout, dead crops and cancer rates and other radiation-induced bizarities. He also knows LexCorp’s original headquarters were in Smallville, years before the big LuthorCorp-to-LexCorp rebrand in 2008. But he’d never heard of anything called 33.1. 

“What the hell is 33.1?”

Winslow stops and turns, knife halfway into the peanut butter jar. “You don’t know?”

“No.”

“But-- who do you think did that?” Winslow points his peanut butter-covered knife at John’s chest. 

John still remembers dying in the street, the taste of asphalt and blood and garbage, parts of his brain shutting down like lights going off in a house, one by one. 

“I woke up on a table...” No heart, more dead than alive. “What did you mean, LexCorp was messing around with kryptonite?”

“33.1 is LexCorp’s meteor freak experimentation program. They find people like you, or people who were changed by the rocks. And they keep them, run tests, experiments, whatever  you want to call it.”

“How do you even know about this--”

“Ollie Queen,” Winslow giggles, turning back to his sandwich. “He’s been trying to bring Lex Luthor down for years, but he could never get enough hard evidence to take him to court. But he was always letting things slip when he was touring the lab, shooting his big fat mouth off.”

“So LexCorp did this to me?”

Winslow licks his fingers and picks up his sandwich. “All I can say is that the parts were manufactured by LexCorp; that I am completely sure of.”

***

[void-botanist]

WIP Titles + Canons

Because I posted my first genuine Old Canon snippet yesterday and I also talk a lot about Old/Middle/New Canon now I wanted to take my list from the WIP titles tag and break it down a little more into my rough canons, with some notes about how un/hinged some of these ideas were. I will in fact answer asks about these but I reserve the right to [skip egregious James nonsense]

Pajiir & Delphonus

(the numbered ones are versions typically with multiple drafts)

Old Canon

[1] Azalea the Book (sorry it's just Secrets of Droon but…not that great I was like 8-10 for this. Azalea is the princesstagonist and Zalen is the barely-seen villain)

[2] Azalea Sequels (see above)

[3] Azalea Dream Beginning (ambitious. weird. chocolatey. there was torture??? this draft sucks [mostly affectionate])

[4] Azalea 3 (the origin of Dez and Julian, but they were pawns/patsies in Zalen's wildly ambitious plan to kidnap the entire royal family and then become king [bc he was Azalea's cousin]. I also got super distracted with him just like. falling in love with the royal police chief. There's some really cute stuff in these drafts but most of it is barely plot relevant. There was also a secret spy organization that was plot relevant or would have been eventually? Also first appearances of Kirnus, Hoven, Candra, Emmitt, Bean, and Franny)

[4.5] Meldraco (tiny draft about an orphan adopted by a nobleman who shadow runs a country, from whose estate he plans to escape. sounds cooler than it actually was tbh)

[5] Hope (the last hurrah of "Zalen is the villain" stories)

[6] Princess Azalea (what if the conflict was not "Zalen is the villain" but ghosts, need to procure magic seeds for an overly convoluted birthday present, summer camp, swl power struggles, or maybe Zalen kind of I don't remember what was supposed to happen? Origin of Syndy and a bunch of swl and imbra characters.)

Middle Canon

[7] Spacefarer Stories (wild space adventure involving evil scientist aliens, the rebellion against evil scientist aliens, the previous version of Dez being a charismatic asshole action hero, early versions of Anni/Julian/Dez dynamics, Zalen being pathetic, and a teenager who just wants to stop enduring corporal punishment and being shot back to Pajiir in a tiny space capsule. First appearances of several Melichacha crew members)

[8] Zalen the First (Autobio) (literally what it sounds like, Zalen's autobiography & related. surprisingly not a bad read)

[9] Chykoff Stories (stories about Zalen going to college and studying abroad, having a bad time with his girlfriend and boats, being Silas's roommate)

[10] The War Files (remember that weird nobleman? yeah he started a whole war and I decided to get Azalea and Seriito involved because royals. kind of a nothing draft except I also introduced the first iterations of new Keearo & Kirnus)

[11] Elbas Stories (Zalen, still a rich inventor, decides to buy a whole island)

[12] Az 2019 (a half-assed retwisting of some Princess Azalea threads. Origin of the "Seriito is hot for [graduate student] teacher" concept that became Sheri)

New Canon

The Fourth Android (the Scrivener file is just called Dez. went through so many concept iterations even before I introduced it here that thinking about it makes me want to scream. however some of that old stuff is still a lot of fun)

Delphonus 2 and 3 (sequels to TFA without titles. I just had ideas and needed a place to put them)

Triad (need to post a new intro. I made it better tho I'm not actively writing it)

Syndy & Hoven (favorite aggressive snowglobe story)

Pajiir Reference (there was too much character lore to reasonably put it inside a WIP Scrivener file so I put it here)

Pajiir Side Scenes (there were too many side scenes to reasonably keep inside Pajiir Reference so I put it here)

Locality Space

(previously Faeryland)

Old Canon

Creepsters - Witcheden Phase (9 major versions. faery police shenanigans with a fast and loose association with actual Celtic/English folklore [my output when the input was so many UK cop/mystery shows + a copy of Katherine Briggs' An Encyclopedia of Fairies]. Source of the zipline incident. Kat is our primary human POV)

HS - Horatio's Story (attempted reframing, kinda nothing)

SNA - Standing, Nazib, and Associates (what if it was the faery police guys but they were cool PIs instead)

Spinder and Georg (a full 400+ pages of a so-so-ishly executed romance between Spinder & Isabel under a fake name)

Middle Canon

LiBN - Love in Brú Nua (what if it was the faery police guys but they weren't police or PIs they were just having relationships. in an underground city)

Tales of Tobar Si (what if I super honed in on whatever's up with Horatio & Sid. direct antecedent of Another Ocean's Moon)

Spinder and Isabel (closer to S&G than Nicea, but with more Rodney & Declan)

Isabelle and Spynder (the far superior version [read: it's sexy and the Faeryland/Earth logistics make sense and I made an actual attempt to pay attention to the folklore])

Christina & Kat (lesbian attempting to locate her lost great-uncle [Leon] and with questionable motives falls for a powerful witch [Christina] with an equally powerful and bitchy ex. Walked so Drowning in the Stars could run)

New Canon

Nicea (fun fact: Rodney's design is straight out of Isabelle & Spynder and does not resemble earlier versions)

Another Ocean's Moon (not really written at all yet, though it's pretty much just space Tales of Tobar Si. maybe the Avis & Sorian stuff will go in it)

Drowning in the Stars (except Kat is nice and awkward lol)

Locality Space Side Scenes (currently 99% Sorian and Avis and 1% Michael making amends for the Incident)

If you wanna know more about all the New Canon stuff I have a WIP Master List also.

[diedraechin]

I got so hooked up with your snippet from Settling for Gold, sounds so interesting and a wonderful recipe for angst, so I wanted to ask the time settings. Like, what age do they have? I assume the Sochi banquet didn’t happened because Viktor thinks “Japanese boy”, but did Yuuri still had (or has) a crush on Viktor in this universe? And do you already have an idea of how Yuuri and Chris became a thing or is that more of a behind-the-scenes thing?

That were a lot of questions, sorry. Also, if you have another snipped you would like to share from SfG, I am here for it.

Settling for Gold takes place during the Sochi Olympics. :D So Viktor is 25, Chris turns 23 right in the middle of the Olympics, and Yuuri is 21.

Yuuri and Chris is a behind-the-scenes thing, but basically started as a one off friends with benefits hook-up, but come morning Chris was very "would like to sleep with again" and they already were friends, so he told Yuuri they should just date. And it didn't take long for Chris to really become smitten.

Because Yuuri = 💜💜💜

As for Yuuri's feeling toward Viktor in this universe... they're complicated. He definitely had a crush, probably still has a bit of a crush, but he's with Chris, and he likes Chris and Chris likes him. And it's easy to chalk up any interest Viktor shows in him to just wanting to get to know Chris's boyfriend.

“Hi! I’m Phichit Chulanont!” The young Thai man held out his hand and Viktor shook it.

“Nice to meet you. I’m--”

“Viktor Nikiforov! I know. Everyone knows.” Phichit grinned at him. “You’re also the other best friend.” His gaze flicked over to where Katsuki was apparently trying to teach Chris how to play some video game on one of the systems, but Chris’s hand kept wandering down to grab Katsuki’s ass which led to a hissed “Chris” before the Swiss skater apologized without meaning a single word before sliding his hand back up to Katsuki’s waist.  “Chris is either going to piss him off for not taking the game seriously or they’re going to leave before dinner. Any bets on which one it’ll be?” Phichit asked.

“Oh. Um…” Viktor had no clue. “Does Katsuki like video games that much?”

Phichit just blinked at him. “You can probably just call him Yuuri. I think he’d be a little weirded out to know that Chris’s best friend is still calling him Katsuki.”

For some reason, Viktor hadn’t realised that he was Chris’s best friend. Chris really was Viktor’s only friend even if he wasn’t just discussing friendships among skaters, so Viktor had never had to categorize Chris into a stronger category than just friend. It was startling. “Ah. Right,” is all Viktor said, however.

“And yeah, Yuuri likes video games. And he’s good at them. And scarily competitive at them. But then that’s true for everything regarding Yuuri.” Phichit was fiddling with his phone. “Hey, think I can get a selfie with you for instagram? It’s cool if you don’t want to, but I love the platform--”

“I do too. And sure! Let’s take a commemorative photo.”

So they did and looked at the picture. In the background Chris’s hand was clearly visible on Yuuri’s ass again, though Viktor didn’t remember hearing the hissed “Chris!” from the Japanese skater in the last few minutes.

“Um. Perhaps we should try a different angle?” Viktor suggested.

“Yeah. I think Yuuri would kill me if Chris groping him made it onto the internet. I mean he likes it,” Phichit wiggled his eyebrows, “Chris’s groping, I mean, but he’s kinda private and wouldn’t want it on my instagram.”

Phichit and Viktor walked around the lounge taking various selfies and discussing the finer points of the various filters for a good fifteen minutes before finally selecting a nice shot of the two of them, no groping couple in the background at all and posted it to their instagrams and tagging each other which Phichit said was amazing “because now I’m like on your instagram! So like there’s proof that I met you! And OMG, Leo is going to die! I bet Seung Gil will too, but he’ll be all stoic about it because like reasons. But sweet!”

And then they looked around for their friends.

Phichit shook his head. “They’re going to leave before dinner.” 

Viktor swallowed thickly, slightly uncomfortable. Yuuri had Chris pushed up against the wall next to the video game system they’d been playing on and was kissing him hard, fist gripping the front of Chris’s jacket, pulling his head down to Yuuri’s height and Viktor could make out the blush that covered Chris’s cheeks and was going down the back of Chris’s neck.

Viktor didn’t think that he’d ever seen Chris blush that much before.

[pepethehobbit]

I wrote a van der stoffels AU for the Skam Holiday Event and because I am a giant mess I couldn’t stay with one theme and kind of jumbled a lot of them together? This story is basically for Day 1: Decorations, Day 3: Winter and Day 5: Parties

And because holidays are stressful even with Corona I didn’t manage to finish it on time, but it’s the 26th so it’s technically still Christmas, so I hope it’s okay that I post it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little snippet of Jens and Lucas being dumb and in love.

„I’m sorry you want me to do what?“

„Pretend? Please, Luc. I know it’s such a weird thing to ask of you but I can’t stand their constant questioning and interrogation any more of when I will finally bring a nice girl or boy home, especially not around Christmas. My family is weirdly obsessed with my relationship status and that it’s currently single. I just want them off my back.”

Lucas hears what Jens is saying. And it’s nothing new either. Jens’ family really is oddly nosy about his relationship status even more so since he came out, as if the fact that he is bi would enhance his chances somehow. Lucas knows this frustration because Jens has talked to him about it a few times especially around holidays or Jens’ birthday, where his family is extra persistent about Jens finding someone.

Jens hasn’t done anything about it, he stays silent and then complains about it to Lucas later. Until now, Lucas guesses. Because Jens just asked him to come to his parents house for a Christmas family gathering with coffee and cake and a later dinner. But that is not the thing that took him by surprise. Lucas has spend a few Christmases at the Stoffels household, especially when his own family couldn’t be there for him or just straight up left one year like his father had. They basically spend every Christmas together in some capacity since Lucas moved to Antwerp when he was eleven and both of them becoming inseparable.

Jens has been Lucas’ best friend for eight years now and at first he thought Jens was kidding, but he recognizes a serious expression on his face when he sees one. He has years of experience to back it up. So that is the thing that surprises him. Jens is seriously asking him if he can come home with him for Christmas to pretend that he is Jens’ boyfriend. Lucas must have been too quiet for too long because Jens begins to backtrack. He shakes his head and then lowers it. His voice is filled with an unusual insecurity.

“Forget it, Luc. It was a dumb question to ask of me. They probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

“I’ll do it.”

It slips out before Lucas could consciously think about it.  He wasn’t really planning on saying yes to this, because there was a voice in his head that immediately screamed: “No! Bad Idea!” But with the way Jens head snaps back up to him with a huge smile of relief he can’t bring himself to take it back.

The problem is, Lucas wants to be like that with Jens for real. It took him a while to figure it out after Jens broke up with Jana but he is definitely in love with his best friend and has been for two years. Pretending to be with Jens so his family gets off his back would be pure torture for Lucas. He knows exactly what his best friend is like when he is in a relationship. Jens doesn’t shy away from open affection, says the cheesiest shit that he makes out to be a joke (but Lucas knows he means every single one of them) and is just in general the most attentive and supportive boyfriend anyone could ask for. Maybe Lucas is a bit biased on this topic but he is pretty sure that being on the receiving end of these things from Jens would not help him at all to get over his best friend like he should. Especially with the knowledge that it’s all fake from Jens’ side. He would get a glimpse of what it would be like and then Jens would snatch it all away and thank him for being such a good friend. Lucas is not sure if his heart would survive that.

“Really? Luc, oh my god, thank you! You really don’t know how annoying they are. I don’t know what’s gotten into them lately but they are worse than ever.” Jens seems so relieved and Lucas’s heart breaks a little more. He just needs to be medical about this, needs to set up some rules that he and Jens can stick to so Jens doesn’t do anything that Lucas wouldn’t recover from. Like kissing him.

“Have you thought about how we would sell it? Because your family knows me pretty well, knows we’ve been friends for years. What’s the story?”

Jens ducks his head for a second and then raises it with a sheepish smile. “Well, I didn’t really expect you to say yes to this, so I didn’t do a lot of planing ahead. Maybe we can do that together?”

After an hour or so they had it all planed out and rules to stick to. When Lucas mentioned rules, Jens got a bit confused (Rules? What kind of rules?) and Lucas had to fight down the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, don’t you think that your family will find it weird when we won’t touch all evening? We need some rules of what is allowed and what isn’t.”

Lucas felt so awkward in that moment. Not only talking to your best friend about what is and isn't off limits but at the same time trying to stop thinking about how much he wants Jens to do all of things for him for real. After agreeing that holding hands and a little bit of cuddling is definitely okay, Jens suddenly got very shy again and asked with a small voice: “What about kissing?”

Lucas’ very fast and firm “No!” seemed to shock Jens a little bit and a look of disappointment flashed across his face which made Lucas momentarily mad at Jens. He has no right to be upset about this, he can’t be expecting Lucas to kiss him for the sake of making it believable. Lucas’ could not go back from that. Kissing Jens, knowing what it would feel like, what he could have if Jens only returned his feelings, no that’s too much for Lucas. “No, you’re right. Sorry. I wouldn’t want to make you more uncomfortable about this evening than it will probably already be.” Lucas doesn’t point out that kissing Jens would be the exact opposite of uncomfortable for him and just lets him think that that’s why he draws the line at kissing. “It will be like any other Christmas I have spend with your family, Jens. The only difference is that we will have to pretend to be madly in love, stick to our story and hold hands the entire time, what could go wrong?” Jens chuckles at Lucas’ obviously fake positive outlook for the evening and said: “Famous last words, Lucas.”

And that is how he currently finds himself on the steps of Jens’ old family home with Jens hesitantly taking his hand in his and asking: “Ready?” Jens slowly raises his other hand to ring the bell but Lucas interrupts him: “Wait. Let’s go over it again.” Jens lets his hand fall again and with the other one he gives Lucas an encouraging squeeze. “Luc, we’ve been over this a million times. They won’t notice a thing. We got this, okay?” Lucas doesn’t have the chance to respond because then the door is being opened and Jens’ mum gives them an enthusiastic welcome. She doesn't notice their joined hands and simply hugs them both. It gives Lucas an instant kind of comfort. Mama Stoffels has always been there for him. When he couldn’t be around his own family she opened up her home to Lucas as often and as long as he needed.

“You must be freezing. Come in, come in. The others are already here. You’re the last to arrive.”

They get in and the familiarity of the surroundings help Lucas to calm down even more. He knows these people, he knows the place and he knows Jens. The only thing he has to do is to pretend to be in love with Jens for one day. It wouldn’t even be pretending for Lucas. The only thing he has to do is to let down his carefully constructed wall that keeps Jens from knowing Lucas’ true feelings for him. Lucas only hopes that he can rebuild the wall once this day is over.

Mama Stoffels already left for the living room while Lucas and Jens shove off their jackets, scarfs and beanies, expecting them to follow her to the room where the rest of Jens’ family already waits for them. Lucas looks nervously up at Jens and then at the door which is currently still hiding them from the storm of questions they are about to receive when they walk through that door.

Jens takes his hand again, which is part of the plan and asks: “Ready? We can still not do this. It’s your choice.”

“No, I’m ready. Let’s do this. You owe me big time for this, though.”

Jens grins at him easily and says: “I know, thank you, Luc. And believe me, the next four vettige vrijdag are on me.”

“Alright, I can live with that.”

Jens squeezes his hand once more and opens the door.

Lucas knows more or less everyone in this room. Jens’ parents of course, his little sister Lotte and his older sister Lies he knows best but he has met both of Jens’ aunts, uncles and grandparents several times as well. There are a few faces he doesn’t know, mostly younger kids who don’t pay attention to them anyway (Jens said a few of his younger cousins would be there as well). The first one to see them enter is Lies and Lucas has to hold in his laugh at the way her face goes through confusion, to understanding and lastly arrives at pure and utter joy.

“Oh my god, finally!” Lies all but screams and that works to get everybody else’s attention as well. Lucas feels the eyes of nearly everybody in the room on them and sees how they their gazes swipe down to their tangled hands and up again. He looks nervously over to Jens because that’s most definitely his job right now.

Jens clears his throat and says: “You know how you always annoy the crap out of me to find someone nice to date? Yeah, well. I did.” With that he gives Lucas’ hand a squeeze and raised their joined hands so everybody can see them properly.

The silence that follows is grating on Lucas’ nerves but then everybody kind of erupts in enthusiastic screams and shouts over each other. Lucas’ doesn’t understand everything but he thinks the overall consensus about the revelation is that everybody is thrilled for them and the world “finally” is heard a little too often for Lucas’ comfort.

Lies is the one to bring them all to silence. “Guys, stop! I know we are all thrilled that they finally got their head out of their asses but let them say hello first.” Lucas doesn’t want to think about the implications of Lies’ statement and is glad that he gets distracted by her pulling them both towards the table, giving them both a firm hug and setting them down at two empty seats.

As everybody is kind of settled again, the silence returns and Lucas’ should have known that the gleam in Lies’ eyes would mean that this is far from over for both of them.

“And now the interrogation can begin. So, shoot. How did this happen?”

All the curious eyes are on them again and Lucas looks over to Jens to find him already staring. He hopes his eyes convey his silent support because this first portion of the plan is definitely all Jens. All Lucas has to do is sit here and look convincingly in love with Jens, which again is not really a hardship for him anyway.

“Well you all know that we’ve been friends for a long time now and a few months ago I started to realize that my feelings for him changed.” Jens takes Lucas’ hand again and places it in his lap, it’s an obvious enough gesture to support the story. Lucas notices how the mischievous gleam in Lies’ eyes is replaced with a much softer, fonder one. “Then I drunkenly kissed him at a party one night and lucky for me Lucas kind of stopped me and said ‘Kiss me again in the morning, when you’re not drunk.’ And that’s what I did and now we’re here.”

Lucas couldn’t help the blush that spread on his face, even though the story is completely fake, the thought of Jens kissing him just does that to him. It seemed to help their case though, as Papa Stoffels points out: “Look at you blush, Lucas. I always knew Jens would eventually fall victim to your charm.”

At this Jens lets out an incredulous “Dad!” but Lucas can’t help but laugh. Jens fixes him with an over exaggerated indignant gaze and Lucas just needs to tease him. “So my charms are what finally got to you, huh? Tell me, what exactly about my charms was it? The handsome looks? The devastatingly funny sense of humor? The -”

Before he can continue Jens hides his head in the crook of Lucas’ neck and mumbles loud enough for the others to hear as well: “Shut up oh my god, you’re so annoying.” While he speaks he feels Jens’ lips lightly move against his neck and Lucas suddenly has a hard time coming up with a response. Thankfully, he is saved by Mama Stoffels.

“Well, Jens. You didn’t deny any of those things, either.” Her tone is cheeky and it’s not the first time Lucas’ notices the similarities in their natures between Jens and his Mum.

Jens lifts his head to stare accusingly at the rest of his family and says: “You are all annoying. Can we eat our cake now, please?”

Lies’ fixes them both with a stare. “You can. But don’t think this is over. The interrogation has only just begun. I want to know everything.” Her words sound harsh but she says them in such a fond tone Lucas can see them for what they are. She seems so genuinely happy and not that surprised at the news that he and Jens are dating that Lucas wonders if she has always kind of known how he really feels about her brother. But he can’t worry about that now as they get drawn into the conversation around them. He can feel himself relax in the presence of these people who he would consider his second family. At one point Jens puts his arm around Lucas’ shoulder to pull him into his chest while talking to his grandparents. A gesture they don’t usually share and should feel unnatural but it being the exact opposite. Lucas forgets that this is only pretending and decided to soak up as much of Jens’ freely offered affection as possible. Because if he is only allowed to have them for one night he is going to make the most of it.

He fully snuggles up to Jens, links their fingers together and begins tracing the moles on Jens’ arm with the other. Something he always wanted to do. When the conversation gets dragged back to them and about how they got together, Lucas gets brave and offers a sign of affection of his own. Jens is in the middle of explaining how he confessed his feelings for his best friend when Lucas raises his hand to strike a hand through Jens’ raven black hair. Jens’ falters for a second, then looks at Lucas with big eyes and a small smile on his face that has Lucas’ insides churning. It’s not a look that he would usually receive from Jens and it’s doing things to Lucas, like forgetting that this is all pretend.

“You two are going to be that couple I can already tell. You are both so smitten.” It’s Lies’ voice once again that interrupts their weird moment of eye contact. Lucas tries to find his voice again because Jens is just ducking his head, trying to hide a blush that Lucas can see rising up his neck anyway. He tries to steer the conversation away from them to get them to safer grounds.

“Don’t pretend that you and Josh wouldn’t be the same if he was here. You are ten times worse than us.”

“He is right you know.”

“Mama!” Lies’ indignant tone raises a laugh from all of them and the conversation moves on around them. Jens is still not looking at Lucas and he has pulled his hand back to himself. Lucas nudges him with his elbow but Jens doesn’t look up.

“Hey, you alright?,” Lucas asks quietly so that the others don’t hear.

Jens takes a deep breath and finally looks up at Lucas with an expression that’s much more closed and sadly one that Lucas is much more used to, nothing compared to how he had looked at Lucas just moments prior.

“Yeah, I’m okay. All good.” Lucas is not convinced but he can’t exactly nudge Jens for more when they are surrounded by his family within hearing distance. “I’ll go see if Dad needs help in the kitchen, be right back.” With that he stands up and leaves Lucas confused and alone with his family. Something happened there and Lucas isn’t sure what. Jens is just pretending. Why is he suddenly fleeing when it seems to be working? Isn’t this exactly what Jens had wanted?

Lucas doesn’t have a chance to think about this further as Lotte, now twelve years old, calls for him to come to the door which leads to the kitchen. “What’s up Lotte?” he asks once he has reached her but she is suddenly turning around, calling for Jens in the kitchen without answering his question. Lucas is confused but then Jens stands in the doorway with him and asks Lotte the same question who gazes at them both with a bright smile on her face.

“Look up.” Jens and Lucas share a confused look but do as they’re told and realization begins to sink in. Mistletoe. Lucas lowers his gaze again and locks eyes with Jens straight away. The one rule he is still unsure about wanting to break and Jens seems equally hesitant.

“People are supposed to kiss under a Mistletoe, right? So kiss.” Lotte says it as if this would be the easiest thing in the world and from the corner of his eye he can see that they gathered quite the attention even though the rest of Jens’ family tries to be subtle about it.

He takes a step towards Jens, never leaving his eyes. Jens returns his gaze with an equal amount of vulnerability and questions. Lucas takes his hand in his and decides to just go for it. Screw the consequences. This evening is an exception to everything and suddenly he really wants to know what it feels like to have Jens’ lips on him, at least once. As quietly as possible he whispers: “It’s okay.” He can see Jens starting to argue, he obviously remembers how adamant Lucas was about no kissing. But now Lucas doesn’t care. “It’s okay,” he whispers again and he can see the protest fleeing out of Jens’ eyes.

It’s Jens that closes the final distance between them. He sees how Jens’ eyes flutter shut before his own follow. Their noses touch, sending a shiver down Lucas’ spine in anticipation. When Jens angles his head and finally connects their mouths Lucas can only hold his breath. He thought Jens would go for a simple peck but once their lips are connected both of them can’t seem to let go of each other.  Jens’ lips are warm and gentle and when he parts them against his own he tastes of the gingerbread cake they ate before. He feels Jens stepping even further into his space and beginning to move his lips against him with a slight tremble and Lucas melts into his chest.

A loud whistle is what separates them and they both all but spring apart from each other looking for the source of the noise. It was Lies, of course. Who else could it have been. Lucas chances a quick look at Jens but he is not paying him any attention, as if this kiss was completely ordinary and did not just completely turned Lucas world upside down. Which reminds him once again, this is pretend. Of course Jens is acting like this, because he doesn’t feel what Lucas feels and because he can’t act like this was their first kiss when they are supposed to have kissed for over a month now.

“Oh Lies, shut up. You’re just jealous because Josh isn’t here.” Lies looks like she is ready to throw back another teasing remark when Jens’s father steps out of the kitchen. “Jens, language!” His son ducks his head, ruffles Lotte’s hair, who still stands next to them and says “Sorry.”

“Well, if the show is over now, you can all come into the kitchen. The buffet is open now. I hope you’re all hungry.”

The general commotion that follows gives Lucas some time to collect himself. He tries to catch Jens’ eyes again but he seems very determined to ignore Lucas right now. Jens follows the others into the kitchen to get in line for the food and doesn’t say anything about what just happened. Lucas suddenly doesn’t feel that hungry anymore and flees to the bathroom.

He steps in front of the sink and looks up in the mirror. His eyes automatically zero in on his lips as if searching for proof that the kiss really happened. His fingers gently trace his own lips where Jens’ have been just a minute before, disbelieving. Lucas got what he wanted and it was simultaneously the best and worst kiss he has ever experienced. Kissing Jens has felt like coming home and just so utterly and purely right but it comes with the knowledge that is wasn’t the same for Jens.  He was so nonchalant after, like he wasn’t affected at all whereas Lucas is now freaking out in a bathroom. How is he supposed to survive dinner and a few more hours with this play they put up for Jens’ family. All he wants is to go home and be alone so he can try and forget the kiss that cemented his feelings for his best friend. Before, there may have been a chance of getting over his crush but with the knowledge of how it feels to be kissed by Jens that chance is completely gone. He should have never agreed to this. But he has and Jens is still his friend. Lucas turns on the tap and splashes some water in his face and tries to collect himself. Only three more hours or so and then he can go home. One last deep breath and he opens the door to join the others again.

When he sets foot in the living room/dining room his eyes immediately find Jens and he looks at him as if asking him if he is okay. Lucas tries his most convincing smile and nods once, then turns around and makes his way to the kitchen to get some food. He sits down next to Jens and conversation with his family starts to flow easily again.

Dinner is not as bad as Lucas thought it would be. But he notices that Jens is more distant. Before he pulled Lucas into his personal space as much as he could and now he doesn’t even try to hold his hand. He is worried and relieved at the same time. Worried that he made Jens so uncomfortable with the kiss that he doesn’t even want to hold his hand anymore and relieved because Lucas is sure that he couldn’t have handled more fake affection from Jens. He softly nudges Jens with his elbow to get his attention. Jens turns around and looks at Lucas questioningly. “What is it?”

Lucas slowly leans forward and as quietly as possible he asks: “Are we okay?” Before Jens scolds his expression into a reassuring one Lucas saw the flash of sadness in his face. Anyone else would look over it but Lucas saw and it makes his stomach drop with anxiety.

“We’re okay.” But Lucas doesn’t relax with these words, not in the slightest. He knows that there is something going on in Jens that he wants to hide from Lucas and it's probably his fault and the fact that he was kind of forced to kiss Lucas when he probably really didn’t want to.

After desert Jens’ family slowly makes their way home member by member. Jens and Lucas stay a little bit longer after everyone already left. They are on the floor in front of the fake fireplace and play a round of The settlers of Catan with Jens loosing terribly and Lucas teasing him mercilessly for it, his parents and Lies joining him. Lotte is a sweetheart as always and tries her best to trade with Jens anything that he needs. Lucas is still very unnerved about this whole evening and what happened between Jens and him but this is familiar. It warms his heart to see how easy he fits in here and how natural it seems for Jens’ family to not only accept his presence but welcome him with open hearts to family evenings like this. It works to calm his nerves a little bit, especially because Jens seems to be more like himself as well. He leans more into Lucas and falls into their natural teasing so effortlessly as if he forgot the weird mood that surrounded them after the kiss.

In the end, Lies wins and she demands that everyone bows down to the queen of settlers. They jokingly indulge her but she looses their attention when Lotte runs to the window and excitedly jumps up and down and screams: “It’s snowing, it’s snowing. Look!!”

They all get up to look at the white powder falling from the sky, which has already covered the whole street in a thick layer of snow.

“Can we go outside and make snow angles?” Lotte asks in a voice so giddy that only an overly excited 12-year-old can manage.

“Lotte, it’s way too cold and it’s way past your bedtime already. The snow will probably still be there in the morning and then we can all go outside and have a little walk through the snow together okay?”

Lotte seems to accept that quite begrudgingly and mumbles something about boring party poopers under her breath which has Jens and Lucas eyes meet with shared amusement. His mom and dad usher Lotte upstairs and Lucas takes the opportunity to announce that they should be going as well.

“Lucas, you two can’t go now. It’s a twenty minute walk and it’s snowing very heavyly. Why don’t you two just stay in Jens’ old room? I’ll drive you both home tomorrow after breakfast.”

Lucas wants to argue, especially as he feels Jens stiffen next to him, bringing back the uncomfortable mood between them. He opens his mouth to say something but Lies interrupts him.

“Stop that. You’re not intruding, not at all. You are always welcome here you know that. Even more so then your boyfriend.” She says the last part with a wink towards her little brother who just fondly roles his eyes and shakes his head at his sister’s words. Lucas can hardly argue that but he still looks to Jens for confirmation that this is okay, especially after Jens seemed very uncomfortable with the idea of them staying the night. But then he pulls Lucas more into his side as he sees Lotte’s questioning gaze on them and says: “Sure, let’s stay for the night. More time to cuddle with you.”

Only now Lucas realizes that he has to share a bed with Jens for the night and he instantly regrets it again. Why. Why can’t he just say no for once in his life. It’s so weird between them right now. Even though Jens has him in his arms, he feels more than a thousand miles away from him.

They inform Jens’ parents and soon after say their goodnights to them and make their way upstairs to Jens’ old room. Lucas had tons of sleepovers here and they shared a bed many times before but this is different. He knows that he won’t get an ounce of sleep with Jens so close next to him. Jens informs him that there is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and gives him some of his clothes to sleep in that he still keeps in his parents place. Even though Jens seems all chill Lucas sees through his act. The air between them is awkward and stilted and Lucas has no idea on how to fix this. Talking about it would probably help but Lucas isn’t ready to loose Jens yet, which will probably happen anyway with the way Jens acts kind of cold towards him.

They take turns in the bathroom down the hall and when Jens is gone Lucas settles in on the left side of the bed towards the windows. Jens comes back, turns off the light and Lucas feels the bed dip under his weight as Jens settles in next to him. The bed is big enough for both of them but their shoulders are still only a few inches apart and Lucas is very aware of the fact that his hand is very close to Jens’ own in the middle of the bed. A very uncomfortable silence stretches unbearably between them, not even a quiet goodnight, and it’s enough for Lucas to finally speak.

“I’m sorry for kissing you, Jens. It was obviously too much and I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I know I said no kissing but everyone was looking at us and because you asked about it in the first place, when we sat up those rules, I thought you would be okay with it. But clearly it made you super uncomfortable because you have been weird for the rest of the evening and I’m sorry.”

Lucas is met with silence again and the fact that he can’t see Jens’ face in the dark makes him even more anxious. Then Jens speaks.

“Why did you decide to kiss me when you seemed so appalled to it earlier? You were the one that was clearly uncomfortable just at the thought of kissing me, so you could’ve easily said no or made a joke about it. You didn’t have to kiss me like you meant it when you clearly didn’t want to. So, why did you?”

Lucas is taken aback by the hurt in Jens’ voice and hates himself for being the reason for it. It makes him want to be honest, maybe Jens will be even more mad at him for basically using him but at least he won’t hurt him anymore by lying to him.

“I wasn’t appalled to the idea of kissing you. That is the whole problem, actually. I said no to kissing at first because I knew there would be no going back from that for me. But in that moment today I just went with the excuse because I knew it would be the only opportunity for me to ever know what it would be like to kiss you. And I’m sorry for that. I knew this was a bad idea from the start because I knew that my feelings would ruin this and I-”

A sudden light makes Lucas stop in his apology and confession in one. After adjusting to the sudden brightness he sees how Jens sat up in the bed and turned on the light in the bedside table. Lucas sits up as well and waits for Jens to say something. But he just looks at him with wide eyes full of doubt but also… hope?

Lucas sees how Jens’ hand slowly reaches for his own and sucks in a breath when Jens intertwines their fingers together. “What are you doing?”, Lucas asks with a shaky exhale of breath and looks up from their joined hands to Jens’ eyes. Something seems to be decided in Jens’ brain because the doubtful expression vanishes and is replaced with a softer look full of affection and determination.

“Luc, okay first of all. I wasn’t uncomfortable when we kissed, not in the slightest. Quite the opposite really. If anything it made me come out of my denial and proofed what I suspected for a while now.”

“Which is?” Lucas asks when Jens doesn’t continue. Hope begins to settle in his chest and an excited warm and fuzzy feeling spreads when Jens raises their joined hands to his lips and kisses Lucas’ hand.

“That I am in love with you.”

Lucas can’t do much but stare at Jens completely speechless as an overwhelming feeling of happiness washes over him. He feels how is lips stretch into a smile that he can’t help and then he grabs Jens by the front of his shirt, pulls him towards himself and kisses him again. Jens’ surprised yelp is smothered by their lips softly moving together and Lucas feels how Jens melts into him after the initial surprise. He lets his hand slide from the collar of the shirt to Jens’ neck and begins to play with the short strands of hair. Jens lets out a little satisfied sound and opens his lips for Lucas, inviting him in.

Lucas feels like he is floating when they eventually break apart. His eyes stay closed for a few seconds to bask in this feeling only a little while longer. He opens his eyes and is met with Jens’ most beautiful smile and begins to realize that he is the reason for that. Lucas can’t help himself and steals another short kiss from Jens before he says: “I love you, too. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

Jens laughs and shakes his head in disbelief. “God, Luc. Today was pure torture. The whole time I was asking myself ‘How can he be so good at pretending?’ And then that kiss and I… God, I was having a silent freak out after that kiss but I couldn’t show it and you were looking at me like that and I couldn’t handle that it was all pretend, that’s why I was so weird after. I finally came out of my denial for my feelings and it was because of a fake kiss with you.”

“I can’t believe I bought your chill act. I totally believed you weren’t affected by that kiss at all and it made me freak out and flee to the bathroom because I couldn’t handle the fact that I just kissed you.”

“We are so dumb.” Jens says with laughter and Lucas can’t help but agree. During this whole conversation he has been smiling so much his cheeks hurt. Jens is making him so unbelievably happy, he can’t believe he got so lucky.

“So, I guess the plan is off?”

Jens looks at him confused but the smile never leaves his face. Lucas isn’t much better off. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the plan where we would’ve told your family that we broke up in three weeks because we are better off as friends?”

At that Jens face light up with remembrance and he gets a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh that plan. Yeah, I mean, I guess you can carry the title of my boyfriend a while longer if you want to,” he says with over exaggerated nonchalance.

“You guess?” Lucas indulges him in his teasing, tries to act offended but he can’t keep the smile off his face or the happiness out of his voice.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t bother me, you know. As long as you keep doing the things a boyfriend does,” Jens says with wiggling eyebrows and a teasing smirk. Lucas can’t help but lean in and wipe that smile of his face with his own lips. “Oh, I see. And what does that entail, exactly?” he asks when he leans back.

Jens closes the distance again and whispers against his lips: “More of that.”

They fall asleep embraced in each other and Lucas couldn't remember a time where he slept better than in Jens' arms. He woke up before Jens and lets himself admire the beauty that his a sleeping Jens. It's as if his fingers have a will of their own when they begin to trace Jens' face, from his forehead down to his eyebrows, then his nose and lastly his lips. They begin to twitch into a small smile but his eyes stay closed. Jens lets out a content hum. "I could get used to waking up like this."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Oh long enough to know that you've been staring at me," Jens says teasingly but he sounds way too happy for Lucas to really question if Jens is bothered by it.  

Jens finally opens his eyes and reaches for Lucas' hand which has fallen down between their faces after Lucas was done with caressing Jens' face. He intertwines their fingers together and snuggles up even closer to Lucas.

"So, last night wasn't a dream then?" Lucas can't help but chuckle at the clichee words but he also kind of melts at Jens' sleepy and hopeful voice.

"Would it have been a good dream?"

Jens looks up into Lucas' blue eyes and with an expression full of affection and love he says: "The best."

Lucas agrees. He could get used to waking up like this as well.

[clansayeed]

Hey Jack! I wanted to know what your thoughts are on Rheya. Was she really a villain to you? Were her motives justifiable? Was she a good villain? Did you think she deserved to have a redemption arc in chapter 16? What could have been written to make her have a better character story? Any thoughts at all about Rheya!

FOREWARNING: Anon... I accidentally wrote you a 2500 word essay. I shit you not this thing is 2,528 words long. So... I don’t know whether to say you’re welcome or I’m sorry. Just letting you know in advance.

ADD-ON POST-POSTING: I’m fully aware this is an app game. A three book series written with sexying vampires in mind. Where the medium is limited both size and content-wise, where you can’t go into much detail because they can only have so many panels in a chapter, etc. Still thinking what I think though. And if you get paid to create content professionally the least you can do for your own paycheck is go back and double-check your work.

Actually this ask came at a good time since I have to work on some character motivations for her for my series... and I always break down the in-canon versions before working on my own. So anon, let’s talk... are you a mind reader?

Kidding! mostly

So. Rheya.

I actually just finished my first replay of book 2 and at the moment I’ve only ever played book 3 the once. I played it as it was releasing so there were some memory gaps in some places and needed-refreshers in others. But on a whole I have similar thoughts about Rheya as I do Xenocrates, and you can find those thoughts here.

Overall she was a solid setup, good design and potential, and PB pretty much wasted her execution.

I wanna start with a genuine question to the fandom since I’ve never actually been able to ask this... but y’all like... totally saw the Bloodkeeper being related to her coming, right? Like I was so convinced of it that when it was revealed in some big dramatic point at the end I was like “yeah... they told us this...?” and it turns out they fuckin didn’t??? Like I could not understand the people who were like super into her sprite like yes she looks good but here I was thinking she was our ancestor from the get-go so I was... confused to say the least.

Not gonna lie when they started pushing in snippets of Rheya’s past trauma in book 2 (things like her yelling “you know what they did to me/took from me” which is paraphrased but you know what I mean) I really hoped they weren’t gonna do what they did. So of course they did it.

But I wish they’d like... just given her the kid. Just give her Iola and leave the weird suddenly random husband out of it. At this point we know Gaius has an unhealthy idolatry for her, we know Xenocrates adored her in his own way in his youth... but we know fuckall about Demetrius up to and including his existence until literally book 3. Sloppy, IMO. They took something not being mentioned and used it to put in a plot device when the omission should have been strategical.

TBH I thought the whole “you know what they did to me” was gonna get hella dark RE: Rheya and King Kaelisus’ obsession with her. That’s as far as I’ll go there.

But you have a Priestess, a known Priestess, who was definitely faithful enough not to stray even when she thought she was walking to her own death. It’s pretty easy to assume (as I did ngl) that she would be completely devoted to Phampira, including romantically/sexually. It would have been a good setup to explain why she never gave Gaius the goods if anything.

And there’s nothing wrong with having said Priestess have her own family while still being devoted. I just wish PB would have used some fucking forethought and hinted at that earlier on than they did. Because they didn’t hint. They dropped this random fisherman-something husband on us and told us she cared enough about his opinion to make him part of her advisory board but not... to like... mention him in any of her conversations in any of the flashbacks... including those in which he would have been alive.

On that note the whole timeline there is really messy, they obviously threw him and Iola in later on after some things were established/couldn’t be taken back. I’ve studied this shit extensively and it’s really muddled exactly how long Rheya ruled, when shit went down with her family, how much time had passed when Xenocrates staked her, etc.

I would have loved for Iola’s father not to have been there. Give me a strong woman, a strong single mother, who would burn the world for the loss of her daughter. Doesn’t matter who did the deed, Iola was hers and the Sons/Order took that from her and the world would have to pay the price.

If I had been given that I would end all of my complaints right here. I would, genuinely. Because then her descent into madness, her paranoia, her megalomania would all have been explained. And they still technically are but -- maybe it’s just me -- there’s something about her having to factor in Demetrius that just... takes me out of it. IDK.

I didn’t mind the guy... though him being a talking tree of doom was a little much for me... though by that point I had accepted the plot was off the goddamn rails and just kept nodding and going with it. But his presence made the story okay when his absence could have made the story impactful and powerful and emotional. That’s just my thoughts. Which you asked for. You did this.

No takesies-backsies.

Was she a villain? Hells to the yes.

It’s a classic case of obtaining ultimate power and abusing it; of crossing the line between justice and vengeance. Not that she wasn’t justified in her freak-out over the death of her family. But everything after up to and including her fatal feeding schedule was totally unnecessary. For a villain, yes necessary. 

For a vampire goddess who could have easily used Gaius’ influence over the vampires of the modern world to form a cult following around herself with an open dialogue about her big ass appetite and probably would have ended up with swaths of willing adorers ready to lend their blood to her cause thus eliminating the need for secrecy and subsequent feeling of betrayal...

You tell me.

I feel like she was definitely more than a little hyped up though. Not even going into my whole-ass issue with the entire Unchained plot and thus the first like 4-5 chapters of book 3, she was hyped up in myth and kind of a let down in person. She could FLY. Walk in the SUN. Heal the DYING. She’s vampire JESUS.

*ADDED IN LATER: She took out THE ENTIRE ORDER OF THE DAWN, WHO HAVE RAVAGED THE VAMPIRE POPULATION FOR LITERALLY 3000 YEARS since they were around in her time after all IN LIKE A THREE-MOVE COMBO BREAK. ALL THIS SHIT THEY HYPED WITH THE ORDER and their entire ERADICATION isn’t even an ON-SCREEN THING. Unless you pay.

Dude if they had kept Xenocrates and the Order and used the two of them against each other; the Order’s long-standing influence on the modern world versus the new world Rheya wanted to create with the human populations not knowing the history behind their hatred, where like the first half of the book is Rheya and MC and gang taking out the Order and Xenocrates only to find out in the middle point that she’s been doing it for selfish reasons and they were on the wrong team the whole time and THEN Rheya becomes the big bad... I would have enjoyed the shit out of that.

Anyway. “She’s vampire JESUS...” and her big evil plan is to... suck face on national television? IDK. It didn’t play the mood right for me. I can see from a writer’s perspective how they kind of played out all of their options and went with a quick and easy solution... but it didn’t work for me. That’s a no from me dawg.

Do I think she deserved a redemption arc? I don’t think anybody deserved a god damn redemption arc, unless they are done with extreme care and attention to detail before/during/after said arc they go horribly, and overall tend to be the plot device pick of lazy writers.

And I take nothing back. No like I think I might have gone into how much I fucking hated Gaius’ “reDEmPtiON aRc” before or at least I have somewhere and to someone. Probably Sofia... no most definitely Sofia. But anyway. They spend TWO GOD DAMN BOOKS hyping Gaius as this ultimately irredeemable bad guy. 

OMG I was literally playing the book 2 finale and got a quote hold on... HERE. Adrian literally says about Gaius in 2.16 “It’s like there’s no humanity left.” And that’s just one actual example of the tons of times they make him out to be devoted to Rheya of his own volition, the ultimate example of the line between believing in something and being blinded to everything by it, etc. Like a huge chunk of Kamilah’s and Adrian’s arcs RE: Gaius are about how he was definitely a monster, he turns the people around him into monsters, and while they have worked their asses off to be good and right their wrongs he has not, will not, and would not ever do such a thing.

Then suddenly he’s brainwashed, tried to turn Rheya down and was made into a loony toon because of it, and everything he made MC’s loved ones do that they blamed themselves for but needed to blame him for is suddenly Rheya’s fault and now we should blame her for.

Mmmmmkay sweetie. I’m good, thanks.

But really -- that was the last straw for me when it came to both Gaius and Rheya. There’s a difference between giving the villain something they see as a just cause (ex. Rheya avenging her family) and giving the villain a cop-out that absolves them of guilt (ex. Gaius and... everything about him). Like yes I know MC didn’t have to forgive him, I know Kamilah didn’t really forgive him, but it’s pretty fuckin obvious from how it was put out into the world story that the writers were trying to lean you towards blaming Rheya and letting Gaius off the hook.

I mean... making him save Lula for real when Rheya saved her for fake earlier on in the book, using Lula as a stand-in metaphor for her own child daughter that she finds out she was the cause of her death for, etc? That symbolism is so transparent I could put it in the asset database.

And I’ll only briefly touch on this since I could write a whole other essay on the matter RE: PB and their fucking constant repetition of this, but “let’s give both bad guys similar moral quandaries but suddenly reveal it was a consent issue and the woman is wholly to blame and now gets the man’s crimes piled on with her own” is super common in fiction and hella. fucking. sexist.

But that isn’t to say all of this is necessarily bad.

When done right, everything I’ve complained about above can be a part of a really good story. What “done right” means is different for everyone, everyone has a different example and different thoughts on it. These are mine. I think the better term would be done well. It was not done WELL.

But given things like PB’s weird obsession with redeeming the attractive (apparently) bad guy, PB’s history with narrowing a woman down to one trait or part of her (ex. Rheya’s power corruption centered around her role as a wife and mother and not... a super all powerful vampire goddess...), their obvious lack of attention to detail and overall lack of vision when it comes to the big picture* and more, I personally don’t think they knew what the fuck they wanted by book 3 and were already well into transitioning into whatever adultery-obsessed lingerie shenanery they’re fixated on now; so much so that it’s almost a disservice to the writing done in earlier book 1 and a decent chunk of book 2 when calling it a whole series.

*I keep bringing this up only because it means I can back up stuff like this with real examples of theirs: these guys did not write the plot of this series as a cohesive story. I get that, as a writer writing a big series myself I get the fuck out of that. But you have to solidify some things early on in the development process in order to avoid writing yourself into a hole or, like with this, having to result in trope-y plot devices that work in theory but on paper don’t give the story the full-circle fulfillment it deserves. 

Their timelines are out of whack, they contradict themselves in quite a few places, constantly wishy-washy their own lore, and definitely didn’t go back and double check if they’d said something already... and that’s not including where they focused on the details of one unimportant thing and left another more important thing to just be “and this is the way it is moving on.”

I literally have no way/idea how to summarize any of this bullshittery going on in this ask. Did I like Rheya? The character personality, design, and overall idea as this big ass badass power/hungry goddess demanding fealty was pretty cool. Did I like Rheya when they narrowed her story down to her grief over her family (which, again, is valid, but just seemed really disjointed and rushed when compared to everything else they had given about her/shown of her by the beginning of book 3)? Not... as much.

I think they wanted her to seem like she could be redeemed. I mean FFS in the “big battle” she literally just stands there and lets you do the thing. 3000 years imprisoned and however many centuries before that spent taking the power that she was denied all because some bad dudes in masks killed the mortal husband and daughter you would have eventually lost to old age anyway...? And she just stands there??? 

Even knowing she was really behind Iola’s death they could have stuck with the “madness consumed” plotline and had her be like well... what’s done is done back to taking over now thank you.

But sometimes a bad guy just has to be a bad guy. Rourke from ES, mister capitalism -- can’t remember them trying to redeem him. If they had I don’t think I would have liked it so much. Who else... UGH. Thomas in NB. Crazy zombie man wants all monsters dead because one killed his family (can we stop using dead families for grief porn please and thanks...) another example of a useless villain. Hence why I removed him from my NB rewrite don’t even get me going...

What’s his face in TCATF! Luther! You join up with him and he still tries to kill you in the end! Now that was fucking classic. Hex, who suddenly is forgiven for the literal enslavement of a race of people and the thoughtless murder of a civilization that didn’t agree with her.. and all because she was ‘like a mother’ to the kid genius? Not so much.

I could go on and on and go search out tons of examples but in the end the one thing you can say PB does well is that they stay consistent in their ideas of redemption, of who deserves it and who isn’t, and just how far they’re willing to stretch the fucking story to forgive a character if 1. the sprite is hot or 2. the sprite had a little sprite family somewhere in there.

legit just talk to me about bb/nb

[echo-bleu]

Oct 19-21 is the Good Intentions WIP fest ( @goodintentionswipfest ), the time to let go of abandoned WIPs and post them as is. Given that I’ve written a lot in the last year and also recently moved fandoms, I thought it was a good time to clean up my WIP folder(s), so I’ll be posting a few things that I started and gave up part way through. This means that each snippet is unfinished and not meant to be a full fic.

RNM, Alex & Rosa 2x04 (I think) coda. 1496 words.

“Hey, Rosa,” Alex sighs, laying down the cleaning supplies he's used to scrub the heinous tag off the gravestone. Absently, he aligns the two bottles and the sponge and bucket in front of him on the floor. His leg is on fire from kneeling over the grave for too long. He had the forethought of bringing his crutch, but being down one hand means he'll need several trips to bring the supplies back to his car, and he's not ready for that yet.

Instead, he sits back, manually moves his leg into a position that doesn't put pressure on his stump, and stares at the now mostly clean gravestone. “I miss you. I haven't been here a lot since I got back and I'm sorry.” He closes his eyes, and Rosa's face is there in his mind, less clear than he'd like now after ten years, even though he has pictures of her. “Recently I feel like I'm seeing your ghost everywhere. Someone's been tagging the walls around town again. Not like...this,” he waves a hand at the grave, frowning in disgust at whoever took it upon themselves to spray-paint it. “It looks exactly like your stuff. I don't know if I should be angry that someone is stealing your art or if it's supposed to be some sort of homage.”

He looks around. The cemetery is mostly empty, at dinner time on a Thursday. He saw the tag when he came earlier, on his way back from work, and he had to come back to clean it up. The only living being he can see is a person with a baseball cap on, crouching by another grave and looking away from him. He wonders idly what loved one they're mourning, if it's a fresh loss or one that has long scabbed over, like his.

Lost in thought, he doesn't see the person approach until he hears their footsteps, far too close to him. He turns around in alarm, thoughtlessly trying to stand up on his aching leg. He falls back on his ass immediately, and finds himself in a particularly embarrassing position, especially in front of a potential threat.

“I was trying to come up with something a lot snarkier than this but, are you okay?” the figure asks.

Alex chokes on his breath. He knows this voice. He knows this face.

It's not possible.

“Hey, I'm really here,” Rosa says with a half-smirk, worry edging into her face.

Rosa, who looks exactly like the day she died.

Rosa, who died ten years ago.

Alex bites hard on his finger, and when that doesn't help, he scoots back in an undignified way, until his back hits the gravestone.

“Please don't react like Maria,” Rosa says, crouching down to his level.

Alex wheezes for a moment more, before his brain turns fully into danger mode. The shock can be dealt with later. Right now, all that matters is the threat.

“Rosa,” he acknowledges coldly, shifting his weight until he's reasonably sure he could stand up fast if needed. “How?”

Rosa looks a little wide-eyed at what must be an obvious change in his behavior. “Whoa, I think I preferred the panic,” she says.

“How?” Alex repeats, ignoring her.

“I know you know about the aliens. Max Evans healed me.”

“You were dead.”

“And now I'm not,” Rosa shrugs. “What's wrong with you?”

“Rosa, you were dead. For ten years,” Alex works his jaw, unable to say just how much this isn't possible.

“I know. Look, I know it's weird, okay? It's been over a month, and I'm still not used to this.”

“A month?” Alex frowns. “Does Liz know?”

“Yeah, of course. She's the one who told me everything that happened. And that Max is an alien.”

“Right.” Alex carefully stands up, using the gravestone as a crutch, even though it feels a little sacrilegious. The grave is apparently empty, since the person it belongs to is standing in front of him, so he can probably be forgiven.

Once up, he picks up his crutch and leans on it. It makes a good weapon, if needed, and a better support, since his legs feel wobbly from shock.

“Who else knows?” he asks, assessing the threat.

“Kyle,” Rosa answers. “Isobel and Michael, and Maria, since yesterday.”

Alex doesn't let the pang of sadness−anger?−that he's apparently the last to know get to him. He can think about that later. “Maria's been told about the aliens?”

“It was an accident,” Rosa admits. “But now she knows.”

“Okay. I'm going to need to confirm this. Give me a minute.”

Rosa frowns. Alex takes his phone out of his pockets, goes to take a picture of Rosa, but he thinks better of it. His phone is encrypted, but Liz's probably isn't. They don't want a photo of a dead girl to end up in any government database. Rosa? Over a month? he texts her instead.

“Alex, I don't−what are you doing?” Rosa asks nervously. She has the same tilt of her head, the same frowns as Alex remembers.

But it's becoming quite clear that the aliens have powers much further reaching than any of them thought. Up to resurrection, maybe, if this is real. But Alex knows for a fact that mind manipulation is. Texting Liz probably isn't enough of a check, but it's the only thing he can think of. “Wait,” he raises a hand.

I was going to tell you, Liz texts back.

I just need confirmation, Alex writes. He'll deal with the rest later.

Then yes. She's real.

Alex takes a deep breath and looks up at Rosa again. “We can't stay here,” he says. “Where are you staying?”

“Max's house,” Rosa answers.

“How's that working for you?”

“Well, Liz comes over twice a day and she can't leave without touching his hat. I'm mainly just bored.”

“Um.” Alex doesn't want to intrude into Max's space, even though he saw the man naked in a pod just a few days ago. “Let's go to my place.”

Rosa obediently picks up the cleaning supplies Alex can't hold in one hand and follows him back to his car. “What's with the crutch?” she tries once more.

Alex bites down the brutally honest answer he would probably give someone else. “I got hurt in Iraq,” he says instead.

“Liz said you enlisted,” Rosa says.

“She said that, uh?” Alex can't help the thought that he wasn't even told Rosa has been resurrected.

“I asked what you'd become. This is all very strange to me, you know. I last saw you a month ago and you were an emo teenager.”

Alex swallows. “Yeah. It's strange for sure,” he says, for lack of something better to tell her. His emotions are a jungle he's not entering. Rosa died the same day that changed everything and set him on the course that led him here. He's only recently learned that her death was actually connected to some of these events, but even when it had seemed like a separate incident, it affected him greatly. She was once one of his best friends, the rebel, free teenager he wanted to model himself after, and her death caught him at one of his lowest points.

They don't talk at all during the short ride to Alex's house, or while Alex fishes out his keys and opens the front door. He wants nothing more than to go remove his prosthesis and lounge in his armchair in sweatpants after a long day, but he doesn't want to deal with Rosa's shock.

He doesn't know how to deal with Rosa, period. She sits like a cat on his couch, legs tucked beneath her, her gaze expectant, and he doesn't know what she expects of him. Probably nothing he can give her.

“So you've been back a month,” Alex states, sitting down on the piano bench. The armchair looks inviting, but he can't get out of it fast enough if something goes wrong, not with how much his leg aches. “Max resurrected you. I assume that had something to do with his death?”

“Yeah, it killed him. Now Liz is trying to resurrect him. I'm pretty sure the world's gone crazy in the ten years I was gone.”

“No argument there,” Alex shrugs. Roswell has certainly gone crazy in the time he was gone. Or maybe he's the one who's changed. “Are you the reason Liz was so ready to leave town again?”

“Yeah. Apparently I’m not dead if I’m out of state. Or something. And she needed a change of scenery.”

Alex sighs. “She’s had a rough time.”

“But now she’s decided she can bring Max back too. I guess if anyone can, it’s Liz,” Rosa shrugs. “I just don’t really get what’s the big deal with that guy.”

“Me neither,” Alex mutters, too low for her to really hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I just…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

[marmolady]

Growing Pains: Part Two

PART ONE    PART THREE

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

This was only going to be a two-parter, but this installment got so long-winded I split it. So, you can look forward to Part Three soon-- and art for the second and third parts as well. 

Word Count: 5636

WARNINGS: Mentions of transphobia.

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems,  Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort,  All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove​

San Trobida, 2006

The scratch of her pen on the notebook was not enough to keep the voices in the room next from reaching Estela’s ears, even muffled as they were. She’d pause to concentrate; math wasn’t her strong point, it tended to require a lot of hard thinking, and she’d catch a few more snippets of conversations she knew very well she had no business hearing. Whether she was supposed to or not, she always kept an ear out for her tio’s voice, or his name being mentioned. How could anyone expect her not to? Of course she’d want a heads up if something was planned that would take him away for days at a time. Sometimes the people who left on these missions didn’t come back. Tio Nicolas had a very important job to do, and it made Estela proud, but she was forever holding her breath, waiting to hear whether her uncle would be on the front lines or safe at home. All strategy talk soared straight over her head, but she knew what it meant when Nicolas was called to action.

Then came the voice that Estela had been waiting to hear. Immediately, she scrambled to put her things together, ready, so ready to go home.

The door creaked open, and her mother was standing there.

“Estelita, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, a little breathless, as though she’d been rushing to get to the secret house. There was no doubt in Estela’s mind that she had been. “I had some important things to sort out with my manager. No doubt it will be worth it, but I hate leaving you here.”

Estela jumped up, already set to go, and gave Olivia a one-armed hug. “That’s okay. I managed to get most of it finished without help.”

With a sigh, Olivia kissed her daughter’s head. “We’ll finish it off together tomorrow, I promise. But for now, I think we could both do with just putting our feet up. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Having slipped through the hallway quietly enough to not disturb anything important, the pair drove off into the night. It had to be getting on for nine by now. Dinner had been a slapped-together rush, as it always was when Nicolas had to go out in the evenings. Estela knew her mother would’ve taken a break for something to eat at work, but probably when they got home, they’d share some cocadas and hot chocolate. As per tradition. Estela noted the clear agitation in her mother’s demeanour; it seemed that Olivia could really use cocadas and hot chocolate tonight.

“Are you okay, Mami?”

Olivia grimaced. “I really don’t like you being at those meetings. I know you’re in a separate room, but a kid your age shouldn’t be exposed to-- it’s just not right. The fact that I let it happen at all, I-- I’m sorry, mija.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough. You deserve better than that.” Olivia looked to her daughter with the fondest of smiles, though guilt shadowed her features. “It took a bit of negotiation, but I’m changing around my shifts at work. I’ll be going in for five--”

“In the morning?”

“It won’t be for a few weeks yet, unfortunately. But this will work better for all of us. I’ll be finishing when I’d usually be having lunch, leaving my afternoon free to do your lessons. Early mornings mean nothing to me if I get to be with you.”

Then Estela was smiling back. “It’s gonna be like every day is half a Mom day off. I’ve missed hanging out with you; it gets kinda lonely.” It wasn’t Tio Nicolas’ fault. The work he had to do was important; it would change San Trobida forever. Spending quality time with the tag-along ten-year-old couldn’t be a priority.

“I know. And I’ve really missed you too. I feel as though you’re growing so much, and it’s passing me by. Now, we’re going to be a team. Together, you and me are gonna kick elementary school in its ass.”

Estela burst out giggling. Unlike Nicolas, her mother only brought out the unsavoury language on special occasions. So… she was stressed but… feeling optimistic? That things were going to get better?

“I think Tio taught me some moves for that.”

Olivia rolled her eyes with an affectionate scoff. “I’ll bet he has.”

______________________

USA, 2033

Estela lay in bed with her eyes closed, though expectation of getting back to sleep had long since passed. There was little point anyway, Liv would be up at the crack of dawn, as she always was before the reunion trip. For the time being, there was nothing to distract Estela from her thoughts, just the gentle sound of Taylor breathing beside her.

Drowning in thought seemed to just be Estela’s state of existence these days. Liv needed her to come through, to magic up way to ease her through the turbulent period of preadolescence. It had been a heavy burden on Taylor as well, and it was all Estela could do to try and relieve it-- it certainly seemed to her as though Taylor could well be suffering from post-partum depression, and what she didn’t need was any guilt. In the end, Liv had handled the baby Michael situation like a champ; she’d given him a cuddle on his first day in the world, but then was happy to return to something close to normal. In her own loneliness, she’d been the snuggly little rock that Taylor had so needed. Estela had done her best, of course, but it was hard to shake the feeling that she just couldn’t do enough for either of them.

That was going to change. That year, when they went to their reunion on La Huerta, they wouldn’t be coming back. Between herself and Taylor, there had been so much back and forth about how best to get Liv through the next couple of years to high school, but in the end, they’d kept coming back to home-schooling. Liv needed a break from the social stresses of being shut up with dozens of pre-teen kids all day. Taylor needed to reconnect with herself as a mother. And she, Estela, wanted to hang onto her little girl, to hold her tight and make the most of what should be the best years of their lives; after all, you could never know just how precious those years would become.

Taylor rolled over with a muffled groan, her face registering surprise as Estela’s eyes flickered open.

“Hey,” she said. “Given up on getting back to sleep?”

From the sound of Taylor’s voice, she too had been wide awake and lying there in silent thought for some time herself.

“Mmm… the same as you, I’m guessing.” Estela reached and stroked a stray hair from Taylor’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“I… well, tired.” Taylor chuckled darkly. “You know, the usual. But, on top of that… my stomach’s so full of butterflies I could throw up.” She leaned her face into Estela’s touch, seeking comfort, reassurance. It was a subtle movement, tiny, but there was no doubt that it had been read and understood, for in seconds, Taylor had been swept into a close and warm embrace. She squeezed back, hanging on as if for dear life.

“It’s weird…,” she choked out. “I never thought I’d feel like this before a reunion. I’m almost dreading it. Part of me just wants to see everyone-- but I’m terrified of what I’ll feel when I see Michael again.”

Estela pulled away just enough that she could press a kiss to Taylor’s forehead. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. What more did she even have to offer? She couldn’t make this easier. In the weeks since the birth, they’d kept their distance. Taylor hadn’t been up to anything more than the briefest of visits prior to Jake and Sean returning home with the baby. The step about to be taken was huge. This was a full week of close proximity, with emotions running wild all over the place. She kissed Taylor again, and again. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s just been so hard. I feel like I’ve just about clawed myself out of the slump, but what if I take one look at him and I crash all over again? I can’t run away from this-- I know that will only make it worse in my head.”

“The option is always there, okay? If we get to the airport and you can’t do it, taking care of yourself first isn’t running away.” At the look of protest she received, Estela added, “I know, I know that right now, we’re going with ‘plan A’. You’re going to get through this, mi amor. From the moment you step onto that plane, you’re gonna have the world’s best support network right there. So, whatever this brings up for you, whatever it is you need to feel, you can feel it and know we’re on your side.”

Taylor heaved a sigh. “This will be good for me. Of all the things I’ve had to face… this shouldn’t be so scary.”

“Well, we’re out of practice. Tell me the last time you had to face down a heavily armoured pack of mercenaries? Or a sea monster with control over the weather?”

The sigh became a snort of laughter. “True. It’s no damn wonder we’re going soft. I’m pretty sure the scariest thing I’ve had to deal with in the past ten years was that time I thought Liv had come home from school with headlice.”

Estela gave an exaggerated shudder. “Joder. Even the thought….”

Taylor giggled into her wife’s shoulder, and relaxed there, letting the tension flow from her body. “I love you,” she breathed.

“I love you too.”

For a little while, they held one another, then all too soon came the tell-tale thumping of kid footsteps.

“I swear she gets earlier every year,” Estela chuckled against Taylor’s temple. “When is she gonna turn into a teenager that we have to drag out of bed with a mechanical crane?”

“Ugh, I know.” Taylor couldn’t help but smile. Recently, she wasn’t sure how she’d have dragged herself out of bed each day if it hadn’t been for Liv. She sat up. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

____________________

Liv bounced her way down through to the departure lounge at Northbridge airport, leading her three cousins in a merry dance.

“Can you see them?” Immy cried out. Four-and-a-half, she was the slightly younger of Aleister and Grace’s twin girls.

“Immy, inside voice, please,” Grace urged, following behind the excitable children with a trolley.

Attempts at calming the horde were all for naught when they turned the corner to find Zahra and Craig waiting for them, their flight having come in some hours before.

“Eh, look who it is… all the l’il brats.”

“Chyeah, it is!”

Craig hoisted Liv into the air as she squealed.

“We were trying to keep them all calm, what with this being a public airport and all, so thanks for that.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Liv laughed. “I’ll save most of my jumping up and down and yelling for when we get there.”

“For the pool party!” Craig hissed under his breath.

Zahra was scowling. A friendly scowl, her friends knew by now, but a scowl nonetheless. “Have I ever told you people how stupid it is that we all drag our asses back to Northbridge each year rather than just fly to Costa Rica from wherever the hell we are? No?”

Taylor pulled Zahra into a crushing embrace. “It’s tradition! Just like my great, big Reunion Zahra Hug! One of only, what?-- three-- scheduled Zahra Hugs I get each year!”

When she managed to extricate herself from Taylor’s embrace, an then another one from Liv, Zahra’s attention was caught by young Immy, who appeared to be twisting herself up like a pretzel next to the walkway out to the Jake’s plane.

“Uh, you all right there, pipsqueak?” Zahra asked, just about managing not to smirk at the exaggerated runner’s stance the small girl had taken up.

“I’m getting on the plane first,” Immy proclaimed. “That baby’s gonna be up the front, so I won’t be. And Reggie says you’re more likely to survive a crash up the back. I’m not dumb!”

“Ha. No, you are not. Saving seats up the back for your parents, or can we join you? Between you and me, the pilot’s a walking disaster.”

“Hmm.” Immy stood up straight and looked Zahra and Craig over. “If you’re smart enough to come to the no-baby, no-dying seats, you can sit with me. Mommy and Daddy know about natural selection; they’ll understand.”

Craig’s mouth fell open. “Ice cold.”

Zahra sniggered appreciatively. “Craig,” she said, as Immy returned to doing stretches beside the walkway. “If anything happens to Aleister and Grace, we’re keeping this one. Kid’s going places.”

A short distance away, Taylor was oblivious to any jostling for positions on Jake’s supposed ‘death-trap’. Sean had come around the corner, grinning broadly and pushing a small pram. The world seemed to slow. Taylor knew Jake was calling out a greeting, but she couldn’t make out a word.

Sean approached, and greeted Taylor with warmth enough that it roused her from her anxious stupor. “Taylor, hi. It’s so good to see you again-- come here!”

She’d needed that hug. She buried her face in Sean’s chest and exhaled. It’s okay. It’s okay. “It’s so good to see you too.”

“Aaand, here’s L’il Captain Cranky.” Jake the pram closer. “Looks like you caught him in a good mood. Must be a special occasion.”

Taylor felt her heart skip a beat. Her mouth was suddenly dry. There he was. Tucked up in the pram, swaddled into a cozy bundle… fuzzy hair surrounding his calm face. She felt Estela’s hand on her shoulder, a quiet gesture of support. But maybe… maybe she was okay?

“Hey there, little man!” she purred, reaching to stroke a chubby cheek. “I can’t believe how much he’s grown already. Nice work, Top Gun.”

“Aw, shucks. I do my best. Haven’t got him flying a plane yet, but we’ve got time. You wanna hold, Princess?”

“If I won’t disturb him?”

“Nah, course not. If anything, it’ll get him more settled before the plane. Believe me, y’all are gonna want to pray this good mood lasts.”

“Hello….” Taylor’s voice shook with emotion. For so long, she’d feared this moment. Having that little baby in her arms for the first time since leaving the hospital. The distance had been for everyone’s benefit; certainly she wasn’t emotionally ready for a good while after the birth. This was okay, though. This was just her being cuddly Auntie Taylor. She was looking at that baby and was just damn proud that she’d been able to give her friends such a precious gift. When she looked at at Michael’s fathers, she was grinning from ear to ear. They were so happy. “Guys, he’s just… amazing. And I can’t wait to see his two daddies in action.”

“What, you’re flying all the way to La Huerta just to watch the competitive diaper changing?”

“Can I give him a pat?” Liv piped up, peering over her mother’s arms at Michael.

“He’s not a dog, weirdo,” Reggie teased.

Liv brushed off her cousin’s remark, and gently stroked the baby’s leg. Since he’d gone off to live with Jake and Sean, her insecurities had faded dramatically. Looking at Michael gave her warm, fuzzy feelings, but she was sure this wasn’t what having a sibling felt like. This was just another cousin, albeit an extra special one, having been a visitor for so long.

Sean watched quietly, his eyes full of affection. This would be one reunion trip that he’d never forget.

“Liv, if you like, you can have a cuddle with him on your lap when we’re on the plane.”

“Ooh! Yes, please!”

Then, Michelle and Quinn made an appearance, with six-year-old Isla and two-year-old Conor in tow. And of course, they made a beeline straight for the growing crowd around baby Michael.

“Hey, Meech! Meech!” Craig called out.

“You’ll be lucky,” Zahra scoffed. “We all know these people are suckers for babies….”

________________________

La Huerta, 2023

Her arm wrapped around the little bundle on her chest, and Estela’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, Taylor walked proudly out to the central rotunda in Catalyst Village, where the group had gathered for brunch-- not breakfast, for some of the number had desperately needed a sleep-in after the night before.

It was not a new thing for Taylor and Estela to join their fellow Catalysts-- their family-- for reunion festivities, but this was something different. What they were sharing now was themselves at a most monumental turning point, vulnerable as they tumbled into some wonderful unknown. Holding onto her baby daughter and stepping out into the sun, Taylor couldn’t feel any trepidation for what lay ahead, she was simply ecstatic.

There was a cacophony of gasps and coos, oohs and aahs as they approached, all eyes going straight for the tiny person Taylor was holding.

“Hey,” she said, unable to repress the grin that was fast spreading across her face. “Do you think we might have room for a new member of the gang?”

Estela was beaming, alight with elation and love. “Everyone who hasn’t met her yet, this is Liv. Olivia Andromeda Montoya. Our little girl.”

Quinn clapped her hands to her mouth. “Oh, you guys! She’s divine! Oh my god….”

Taylor walked over to Grace, who had little Reginald perched upon her hip.

“Would Reggie like to say hi?”

“I think Reggie would love to,” Grace said softly, smiling at her young son’s wide-eyed expression. He certainly didn’t meet many babies living on La Huerta. “Look, honey! Who’s Auntie Taylor got? Who’s this?”

“Buh-buh-buh?” Reggie reached out a chubby hand and patted the blanket.

“See, Reggie?” Grace cooed. “This is the baby from Tia Estela’s tummy. This is baby Liv.”

“Ih.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Nice and gentle.”

“Good boy, Reggie,” Taylor said. “Looks like this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

One of many. Taylor knew it as she did the rounds. Their family welcomed Liv with the joy of close relatives, as if she were theirs, born into the fold and taken with open arms.

The baby stirred, and Craig made a sound of a higher pitch than anyone present had previously thought possible, which promptly earned a glare from Estela and made baby Reggie, now sitting on Aleister’s lap, burst into tears.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you idiot!” Aleister hissed, as he tried to placate his son.

“Um, Craiggers, I think Estela would prefer it if you didn’t make the baby want to crawl back up the hole she came from.”

“Yes, that would be preferable,” Estela growled.

Liv grumbled, her face screwed up in protest.

“Sorry, mija. You’ll learn to love these people, trust me.”

“You really think so?” Craig asked jovially. “Thanks, Estela! I’ll babysit for you anytime.”

Quinn chuckled. “I hope you realise that there’s going to be some heavy competition for babysitting privileges. Bubba’s gonna be spoilt rotten!”

Taylor could feel it. From every one of her friends. Liv was their family, and they loved her.

Baby girl, you are so, so lucky.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2033

Finally, home.

Taylor didn’t know if she’d ever been more ready to step foot back on La Huerta, but from the moment she stepped off the plane, she felt lighter in herself than she’d done in weeks.

It became clear very quickly that she wasn’t alone in that sense of relief. As if by magic, her effervescent Liv was back; the cloud that had been hanging over her head unable to follow into what was the family’s sanctuary. Liv had been seated next to Quinn and Michelle’s daughter, Isla, through the flight; the younger girl all but talking Liv’s ear off. Then, once they’d hit the beach, Reggie and the twins had joined them, and play had come effortlessly. Now the intrepid adventurer she was meant to be, Liv was accepted and wanted; in her element with people she could trust. And Taylor felt herself letting go. For this shining time, she didn’t have to worry about her daughter at all.

Feeling that her loved ones were contented, far more so than she'd seen them in months, Estela wandered over to join Aleister on the beach. She settled down in the sand beside him, looking over the children as they splashed about in a sparkling sea.

“This is nice,” she said, stretching out her body and feeling the sun’s rays. All this fresh air and sunshine, she knew, would do them all good, especially her wife. “I’ve missed this. I think we all have.”

“How is Olivia? Since the, er, unfortunate incident?”

“Well, school’s been harder. Actually, it’s been absolutely horrible. But it’s done and finished. She’s not going back there. I’m just so damn relieved neither of them got hurt. I never thought it would be Reggie getting in a fight.”

For several long moments, Aleister silently watched his son playing in the waves, swinging his little sisters around in his arms and flinging them into the water. Reginald wasn’t a fighter; that he’d been pushed to violence spoke volumes of just how much that school had failed him-- and Liv, who’d valiantly had his corner, oblivious even to what had triggered the outburst.

“For the longest time, Reggie wouldn’t say what the fight was about. We could both tell that whatever it was had hurt him terribly. What we learned after several long talks…. The other boy had been saying things about Erin. I don’t know the details, nor do we want to, but they were cruel.”

Estela’s eyes had grown wide, then hardened with outrage. “Oh, shit. God, poor Reggie.” She shook her head, anger bubbling up inside her. How the hell was this still happening? How dare they? “Did the staff know exactly what happened?”

“At the time, no. Reginald refused to repeat what had been said. By the time Grace and I found out it was so long after the fact that when we brought the information to the school, they let it slide. To say I was fuming….”

“And these people are expecting you to happily enrol the girls at this school when that’s the care given?”

“Our thoughts precisely.” Aleister’s expression softened as he looked out to the beach. In the shallows, his daughters were jumping over small waves as they rolled in, and squealing with laughter. “I won’t have her be made to feel alone. This is all… new. For her, for us… she needs to feel safe to develop into a self she’s comfortable with. When you told me that you were taking Olivia out of school, my immediate gut reaction was fear. For Reginald.” He scoffed. “How utterly ridiculous that I should feel as if my son would need a bodyguard in his own school? And the more we’ve talked, it has gotten all the clearer that what we have in place isn’t working. We set up our main bases of operation on La Huerta and in San Trobida. The only reason we came back to the States was for the children’s education. Grace would have happily stayed in our La Huerta home; for so many years it was our sanctuary, the place that allowed us the freedom to truly grow. I think….” He hesitated. “If you don’t return to the States, it is likely that we will join you. As you say, it’s only matter of two years, or even one, before Reggie and Olivia will be changing schools as it is. We want to have that time with him. And for Erin… it’s time she needs to grow into herself.”

“Wow. That’s big… that’s huge. So, you’re just going to stay on La Huerta?”

“Perhaps. Certainly, in the short-term it is the ideal solution. But when we do enrol the children in a mainstream school, well… we’re considering moving the family to San Trobida in the future.”

Estela felt certain her eyes must have near popped right out of her head. “You would move to San Trobida?” With your transgender daughter? The initial wave of something close to panic subsided. The southern parts of the country were, these days, refreshingly egalitarian. Reforms had been sweeping under the democratically elected government, and the free San Trobida had embraced a fast-moving shift towards social equality. They weren’t talking about the same country that she attended school in some twenty years ago. “You’re… you’re serious?”

“I’m sorry, have you mistaken me for the type of person who uses humour to diffuse serious conversations? Yes, I am serious. I’ve seen first-hand what has been happening there, in no small part thanks to the mountains of our father’s fortune that you’ve quietly invested, and I would proudly see that growth continue.”

It was true; Estela’s home had come so far. The pull never lessened; nowhere else save for La Huerta could give her that same feeling. But growing up with ‘we’ve got to get out of here’ hammered in had lasting effects, as did the horrifying violence witnessed. How much would it take for her to believe in a new, better San Trobida? If it was just herself and Taylor, it’d be different, but they had Liv. It was why testing the waters with home-schooling between San Trobida and La Huerta had looked so promising.

“My mother wouldn’t recognise it,” she admitted, shaking her head. “She would have gone back to the university in San Trobida City, I’m sure of it. She’d help it get back to its former glory. We probably would have stayed in Las Rocas-- I can imagine her face if I could tell her it’s now part of what they’re calling ‘the Costa Libertad’! Maybe… maybe she’d have said I should stay.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, I’ve always thought you’d do what you saw fit, and to hell with what anyone else advised. Certainly, that’s been my experience.”

That made Estela chuckle. “I think I’m used to being more sure. Don’t worry; I haven’t lost my pig-headedness. I can still dig my heels in like nobody’s business.”

“That, I have seen for myself. But it is wise to have an open mind and get some balanced perspective before that stubborn streak of yours rears its ugly head.”

Estela bit her lip. If Liv flourished during time spent in San Trobida in the next year of home-schooling, it really would be hard to leave, especially if Aleister and Grace’s family were considering immigrating.

What more could you wish for?

“I’ve been resistant… for a long time,” she said, thoughtfully. “But every time I go back, San Trobida is looking more and more like somewhere we can be happy and safe. You know, Livi is my tio’s sun and his stars. I want her to have him there for her the way I did, the way he wants to be there for her. It is… hard to shake the fear, though. If I misjudge it; if I put too much hope in my home and she gets hurt or…. I don’t know if I’m too broken and traumatised to be rational about this.”

“And what does Taylor think?”

“Taylor would live in San Trobida. It’s simple to hop to and from La Huerta. That’s good for her; to be that close to Diego now he’s there almost permanently. She wants to be a bigger part of the forward momentum for young queer people. But, she worries. I know I’ve influenced that.”

“I feel that’s fairly inevitable,” Aleister conceded. “If there’s one thing I’d give Taylor, it’s that she’d very emotionally perceptive.”

“Yes, that’s her. I’d rather she didn’t take on board all of my baggage, because, let’s face it, that’s a whole lot of shit to carry. But if she wasn’t so empathetic, she wouldn’t be Taylor.”

“If we were to take Taylor and Olivia out of the equation, where would you want to be?”

Estela grumbled, damn well aware that Aleister knew the answer to that.

“I’d want to be home,” she said simply.

“You never were one for straight answers. Do you know how many headaches you’ve given me over the years?”

“Isn’t that what little sisters are for, hermano?” Estela laughed. Aleister had been forced to develop some amount of patience with her; by her reckoning, it had been good for him. Certainly it had put him in good stead for handling his more obtuse children, namely Immy.

“Like I said, we’re going into this with some flexibility. We don’t know what will be best for Liv, for all of us. We can start here, spend some time with Diego, then live back with my Tio for a few months. Then, I dunno, maybe travel around the world a little bit, expand Livi’s horizons. But down the road…. If settling in San Trobida is the direction you want to head in, that will be one hell of a pull for us.”

It’s just about decided it. That’s gonna be us. Our family. Our home.

[sherlolly-siya]

Magnum P.I. S02xE18-20 spoilers and tidbits

I thought i’ll give a prologue first 😅 Remember i pet project where i was trying to decipher the episode names? yea i didn’t get very far on that.. but i have come to a conclusion, that each title is a convention for what the clients in that episode, and/or our P.I. is going through. Eg. S02xE16 : Farewell To Love

Episode starts with Gladys and Bert who had given up on love but eventually found it in one another. The fact that Gladys narrated this part makes it poetic in a sense that she was the one who had to say bid farewell to Bert.Then TC and Teresa, they found the one that they always loved. The one who made them happier, but TC had to let her go go, he bid farewell to his love, instead of ruining 3 lives.In the beginning of the episode, we see magnum all in for online dating, but after what happened with Dylan, we see him coming to an abrupt conclusion that online dating is just isn’t the thing for him, also adding to the fact, the girl who met through an app (Abby) had just recently broken off with him. So magnum kind of bid a metaphorical farewell to finding love online.

Spoilers for S02x18, S02x19 and S02x20 under the cut if you wish to continue. Warning: My rant got hella long, longer than i planned and there are lots of pics and links below. Thanks @maggiesoa​ and @lizzysfavs​ for providing some food for my thoughts  😊

So.. lets begin with S02x18 : A world of trouble I’m just grouping together the pics that I’ve found so far which seem to be related to episode 18: Perdy and Bobby discussed about having a scene together ignore jay’s comment here, I’m all for #TeamJin and I will riot if they ever kill him. I believe the episode starts with Jin, showing up at Robin’s nest, where he ends up in a situation where he has to change in magnum’s clothes (note the t-shirt magnum is ironing... (Edit: DIDN'T HAPPEN!!?? I MEAN!! This could have been cute.. didn't have to be a total BTS for once!!) Where we get this scene, All i can guess right now is that is a tab in Jin’s had, and he’s being a fair judge for miggy while they prepare for their visa interview, or he could be here with today’s case

Which takes us to to the primary promo for 2x18, where they solve the case at hand. Now my guess is that the case doesnt take up entire 47 minutes, because this promo also exists. What this secondary promo also shows is them at a office(?) guessing visa or may be its a school where the current client works? where magnum/higgy blurts out that they’re marrying and some lady says that they don’t look like a couple. We also see Katsumoto warning Higgy about the consequences of marrying their business partner. (Edit: this did happen and fueled Higgy’s resolve to back out.. nothing wrong there..but as Jin said.. may it be with Magnum or TC, u’re still breaking the law Mrs. I can figure out how pretending with TC is going to get good results? if anything.. it only comes out of nowhere) I’m sensing a connection here again with the title of the episode: A world of trouble:  - The current client, the case was definitely given to them by some one else because they approach the lady coz Higgy says “You’re in trouble, we just want to help you.”, which means she might have refused help at one point. - Literally 2 people in a 2 min worth promo have commented on their wedding, does this not sound like trouble to you?

When magnum is possibly heading out to go to La Mariana, (Edit: DING! DING! DING! This was indeed before the bar scene.. which kinda broke my heart.. but we’ll talk about that in detail later) she tells him that she’s reconsidered her decision that she will be marrying TC instead (which is weird, but for the sake of it, OK). Which also implies that she’s going to have a heart to heart with TC how she had one with Rick before in 2x13. (Edit: Umm.. i would have liked to hear the entire convo here.. but i guess its going to come back a flashback some day?) Magnum than heads to the bar, with Jin where he meets up with his friends and we get this, going by past experiences, this is going to be the last scene where he’s with his friends. Now what leaves me confused is this guy below, the one that magnum rescued and now has a food truck (Rem S1x01, they got him all the way from there now). He’s not listed for 2x18, but the actors caption says 2x18? So is he like the caterer for the wedding? (i thought kamekona was doing that?) or he’s there for entirely other reason?

Now this all leads up to S02x19 :  May The Best One Win Again the title is the synopsis here,

Magnum and Higgins are each hired by a different spouse who are in the middle of a contentious divorce to dig up dirt on the other, and Thomas and Higgins soon find themselves competing over resources. 

But i don’t think them competing again each other is the only thing here, remember this gem from TV guide magazine? - Jay mentions there being an odd jealousy there, and there is something percolating between the duo which magnum doesn’t want to address just yet. I think the competition is not just between Magnum and Higgy, for magnum it is also between him and TC. May be he’ll be still trying to show her that he is the one she should be marrying, even if that’s fake.  - And for the implied element we also have this garage fight, where they’re up against “just one guy, but a very big guy”. This again i don’t think takes forever to solve since, there’s an upcoming wedding everyone has to attend, we’ve all seen the famous pics, but this:

Him again!! And looks like he is in fact catering the event. Now since S02x19 and S02x20 are to be merged into one mega episode, lets slip into: S02x20 :  A Leopard on the Prowl 

Magnum and Higgins help Rick when his father figure, Icepick , just out of prison and battling terminal cancer, gets double crossed on one last score. Also, Magnum makes one last bold move to help Higgins stay in the country.

This is the rick centric episode the viewers were promised, Adding pics of Zac coz he looks great here:

But do you see anything missing here? My sleep deprived brain does. Icepick seems to be have fallen pray to something on the run, nothing pre-planned, the guy has terminal cancer, he’s dying any day now, why would someone spend any time to plan something against him? (He’s probably going to die in this epi..he only had few months.. the article says “reluctantly try to help him” seriously guys why do you have to be reluctant? And below pic is probably of the same related fight scene Jay talked about in the TV guide snippet:

And if the video Jay uploaded is even close to the actual scene, it could be because the guy hit Rick/Higgy and Magnum picked up another fight with him.. or that’s just for insta.. I’ll leave it open. There’s a fight scene with TC as well i suppose. Now what does the title have to do with the episode? Here’s my theory: - Remember Dr. Kim i already mentioned twice above. He’s gotta be here for more than just “catering the wedding”, magnum said he was a code breaker, he was mentioned in one of Robin’s books, he instantly identified the co-ordinates which Nuzzo left for Magnum, (which is duh!  u’re telling me that magnum was a navy SEAL and can read waves but cant piece together actual co-ordinates?!!). Magnum was kidnapped by Ivan’s people coz he needed something from him which was in the books, later Ivan had magnum delivered to himself on a secret mission of retrieving Hayek, who was a weapons dealer but he got away with drones instead.. I think this is all related somehow, there has to be something in this episode that points to this.. I thought may be its in Robin’s books.. but they have never mentioned the same book twice.. I’m still looking for answers though.. But going ahead, see this ,

“ Magnum makes one last bold move to help Higgins stay in the country.” “You see Higgins in a unexpected position, which magnum is very uncomfortable with and where he is not sure about his place”

Soo.. the wedding didn’t happen? So that’s not helping her stay in the country? 

It didn’t bother me much before.. but think about this, what if since the wedding plan backfired, she has to go back to London until her visa is renewed/reapplied for : an unexpected position since she has found something in Hawaii she doesn’t want to loose. Which leaves magnum as the in-charge of Robin’s nest and Zeus and Apollo and part of the deal [I can almost see my HC at the horizon]. An uncomfortable position where he has to manage the estate and the hounds of hell without his “professional better half”. I think there is a beach good-bye scene on this day, may be an actual hug between miggy? Supporting evidence as follows:

Now the last attempt Magnum makes, does he offer her a job? Does he confess? But that wouldn’t automatically land her in an unexpected situation , that would be magnum putting her in that situation while being full aware of his position. I bet lenkov has got pretty good plan for this to play out. Now this doesn’t back up my crack where Higgins leaves, because

This story was posted along with the one where magnum is boating.. so they’re probably from the same episode.. where the last ditch effort has paid off but Magnum and Higgins roles have now been shifted a little and lenkov’s quote makes sense “Nothing really changes”.. has anyone ne noticed that there are no Juliet pics from 2x20 yet? 

I cant wait to see that though.. and for a 100% i know there is a season 3, its a gut feeling i have. Thank you for stopping by.. sorry it was too long  😘

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Epilogue (1)

.Q.000000073.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2153. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um, hi. It’s me. This is attempt seventy-three at getting this stupid thing to work, blah blah blah, etcetera. I, uh… miss you, wish you were here, all the usual stuff. Love you.”

“Maybe you should, perhaps, at least consider giving up? This is, as you said, the seventy-third attempt at a successful communication, and since it is taking up a considerable portion of your time-”

“No. No way. I’m not gonna give up now. I mean, you helped me build it! You’re seriously gonna let all that hard work go to waste?”

“That was not what I was implying. You could, instead, view the problem from a different angle.”

“Which angle, Enoch?! You think I haven’t done that already?! This stupid machine already has too many damn angles!”

“If you are counting the inner components then there are approximately-”

“Yeah, didn’t mean that literally buddy. But I guess you’re right. Like normal. Ugh... I kinda wish I’d properly thought about this before I- wait, did you hear that?”

“Hear what exactly?”

“D- there! That beeping noise. You heard that, right? I’m not just going insane?”

“I have noticed that you display multiple symptoms of psy-”

“Hold on, it’s still online!”

“Oh. It is.”

“It- It’s transmitting fine, recording smoothly, sound quality’s decent so remind me to fix that but… it’s working. It’s actually working!”

“Well done. But I do have to warn you that this technology should not exist on Earth in this time period.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Right, Enoch, I’m gonna need you to get out of here. This beautiful thing is finally working and I kinda wanna use it before it blows up or something.”

“Of course.”

“Uh… in private? Alone?”

“Oh, I understand. You wish to record your message alone. Without me. In that case, I will take your leave, Director Shaw.”

“See you, buddy. Right. Now I just gotta press thi-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000074.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Um… I… *ahem* This is a message for Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. It’s a for-their-ears-only sort of thing, so if you’re not either of them then… uh… stop listening? No! Actually, if you’re not Leopold Fitz or Jemma Simmons, make sure this message gets to them. Please.”

“...I’m guessing this is Fitz or Simmons listening now. Hopefully both. Well, uh… it’s me! It’s Deke! I can’t believe I finally got this thing to work, haha. Uh… yeah.”

“So… you’re probably wondering what’s going on over here. SHIELD got blown up and- oh yeah, you guys were here for that. Or Nana was I think. It’s been a few years, I can’t remember exactly. Gotta adapt, y’know?”

“Speaking of! The second you guys left I might’ve accidentally become director of SHIELD. Which wasn’t my fault! I was nominated! Besides, I don’t know what was supposed to happen so…”

“Right, how am I sending this message. Funny story, actually. A few months after you guys left, Enoch turned up at my mansion and casually asked if he could murder me. Not our Enoch, by the way, this timeline’s Enoch. And he only wanted to kill me because he said I was this huge anomaly in the fabric of the universe and I could potentially doom humanity by just being here. Which sounds kind of dramatic, but nothing’s happened so far so I’m guessing we’re in the clear.”

“Basically, I managed to convince him that I was a good guy. I told him everything that happened and showed him my scars and everything to get him to believe me. And he did… eventually. He even helped me to build this quantum processor. Since this side is working now, I’m guessing it’ll work on the other end too. I’ve set it up to be like a mailbox that picks up anything that’s sent from the other end, so you won’t have to do the DNA-gene-splitting thing that I had to do to make sure it found you. You’re welcome.”

“It’s only audio for now. The 80s are great, but the technology sucks. And if we wanted to record video then I wouldn’t be able to buy supplies without getting asked about it. Equipment is expensive. Who knew. I’ll try and figure out at least how to send an image because I bet you’re missing my beautiful face.”

“That was the other thing: I miss you guys. It’s strange… I’ve spent most of my life on the Lighthouse and I knew a whole bunch of people there. Then when I came with you guys, sure it felt weird with them not being there, but I never really missed them. Probably because they came from that place.”

“But I miss you every day. Literally, every single day. And I love you. People look up to me here, but I don’t exactly have any family. I’ve got the Deke Squad, I guess, but they’re a different type of family. Not like you two.”

“So um, please send something back whenever you get this. I’ve set it so whenever you send something back, it’ll arrive here straight after I send the message you last listened to. I feel like I’m a time travel master now.”

“So I guess I’ll just… wait here. For your reply. Or just any sort of confirmation that you got this message. I’ll try and send you both a message at least once a week but it’d be great to get something back. I’m looking forward to hearing your voices.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000079.FS.M. D_02.15.1985_1623. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Nana and Bobo, it’s me again. Here’s the thing- it’s been a month. It’s been a whole month which is making me think that it’s something on my end. I’ll try and find the problem and fix it since I’d hate for your messages to get lost in that weird void between me and you.”

“But, if I’m gonna be honest, I realised that I don’t actually have any way of knowing if you guys made it back or not. Heck, I don’t even know if you managed to stop the chronicoms. And since I thought of that, I really can’t stop thinking about it, and it would really help if you could just let me know. Doesn’t have to be a whole message, just a yes or a no would do. You could even shout at me and I’d celebrate.”

“Seriously, if you’re all dead then… then I’m the only one alive. Again. I know I’m like 40 years behind you anyway, but it feels like the Lighthouse all over again! I got brought back from that and I felt like I’d cheated the system. Like- Like I didn’t belong, and I got out fine while everyone else stayed there and still had to suffer whatever’s going on up there. And this time I cheated because I���m the one who offered to stay behind and so I’m alive again while you’re all dead. I should’ve let Sousa do it, at least then I could’ve died with you.”

“No, no. You might be alive. You’re probably alive. I’m the one who’s… just send me something back. Please.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000127.FS.M. D_04.13.1985_1829. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Nana, you won’t believe who invited me to a party! Pegs did! She was like, hey, I need you to be a distraction, you’re coming with me. Which is awesome because it’s like the first time she didn’t insult me in a sentence! Yeah… out loud that sounds kinda sad. But it means a lot to me, and I’m pretty sure you were a fan of Pegs or something? Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Anyway, so, we went to this party and she said that since SHIELD is safe enough to be publicly known again I’d need to meet some guy that would help with finances. So we’re at this party, and Pegs takes me up to meet the guy. I promise, all I did was introduce myself (I was actually trying really hard to be serious and polite) and I asked his name and Peggy lost it. She literally almost fell onto the floor, she was laughing that hard. Yup, you heard me right. Peggy Carter. Laughing.”

“The guy, Harry I think his name was? No, Howard. Yeah, Howard was his name. So this Howard guy looks super offended and asked me if I knew who he was, and I said no because I honestly didn’t, and then Pegs offered to buy me a drink. I know! And she didn’t even yell at me for calling her Pegs!”

“So yeah, that happened. Since then she’s been smiling at me? I don’t know what I did, so I thought I’d throw it to you two to see if you had any ideas. You can boast to your friends that your grandson charmed over the great Peggy Carter.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001032.FS.M. D_07.12.1988_2306. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Bobo, hey Nana. I’m kinda tired so I’ll keep it short today. The Deke Squad got an award today. It’s funny, I was so busy with SHIELD that I’d forgotten that we had that many fans.”

“Having a double life sounds fun, but trust me it’s hard. Ha.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001051.FS.M. D_10.22.1988_0642. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I finally finished my first original song! Are you proud of me?”

“Since we won that award, every night I’ve been having visions of Bobo shouting my head off that all I do is steal stuff. So since I’ve been messing with music for so many years, I figured, how hard can it be?”

“...It’s very hard. But! It’s completed, and it feels good that I can at least announce that to someone. Even if those someones can’t answer me back. But that’s fine.”

“The song’s called Alya, and it’s all about family. That was my Mom’s name, by the way. Alya. I can’t remember if I ever told you that.”

“If you want songs about you, then you’ll have to let me know, okay? Cool.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001132.FS.M. D_11.25.1989_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… Hydra attacked. Big time. We beat them in the end, but we lost a whole bunch of agents. Joe was only nineteen and he told me I was his hero. They shot him in the head, I had to identify his body, and I... And that’s… that’s on me.”

“If only I’d taken that shot when Daisy told me to. I could’ve killed Freddy and none of this would’ve happened. I practically killed all those agents and I… Sorry. You don’t wanna hear this kinda stuff.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001193.FS.M. D_03.09.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m guessing that you aren’t getting these messages so it doesn’t feel as weird to me anymore. And if you are… then I’m sorry you have to hear this. But you’re the only people who I’d want to hear it anyway.”

“Ever since they made me director of SHIELD, I feel like I’ve been faking my way through it. I faked my way through the Lighthouse, I faked my way into money and fame, I faked music for a fake band and I faked knowing how to be a director. I’m just… God, I’m just not cut out for it. People are dying and I can’t stop it. SHIELD needs an actual leader, not a fraud like me.”

“Peggy does a lot, but she’s got her own responsibilities to manage so I get the brunt of it. There’s a few super clever agents that can easily take my place.”

“See, I don’t wanna be director anymore. But if I’m not… I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I don’t have anyone here, I don’t belong here, and I- I’m just nothing when you strip away my lies. And I wish that was an exaggeration.”

“And you know the worst part of it all?! I don’t know whether you guys are even alive! I send you these messages every week and I put my heart and soul into them and they could be just disappearing into nothingness! Then there really is nothing!”

“So… just in case you are listening, I love you. You did so much for me, you gave me a chance when nobody else would. It’s odd saying goodbye to thin air, but hey ho. And if you’re dead, then I guess I’ll see you soo- WOAH!”

“DEKE SHAW YOU LOOK AT ME THIS INSTANT!”

“Hey- Hey, Pegs! What are you doing here?! G-Get out, this is private, this is my house what are you-”

“Shut your idiotic mouth and hand me that gun.”

“Peggy, I-”

“Hand it over, Deke. Now.”

“Fine, here. But listen-”

“No buts, Shaw. Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking?!”

“Director Shaw.”

“Enoch, not you too!”

“Oh. It appears we were just in time.”

“You’re bloody right we were. Thank you, Enoch. You made the right decision coming to find me. Now Deke, you need to talk to me, alright? Whatever’s on your mind. You trust me, don’t y- wait... what is that?”

“This? U-Uh, noth-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001196.FS.M. D_03.14.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Pegs and Jarvis took me on a picnic the other day. Honestly, the number of times people thought I was their son was hilarious. It was like ten different people. You should have seen the look on Peggy’s face when this girl asked what it was like being a mom to the sensation that is Deke Shaw. I can’t wait for cellphones.”

“They remind me of you two, y’know. Pegs and Jarvis. You’re all super sweet and smart and determined and kind and they just really remind me of you. Well, if you were both super old.”

“...Don’t tell Peggy I said that.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001872.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_1108. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“They just invented Zima! I can finally stop pretending to drink! You guys should both drink it in celebration. It’s a big day for me.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001627.FS.M. D_12.17.1991_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Howard Stark and his wife got killed last night. Peggy and Jarvis are broken. I didn’t know them that well since he kind of hated me, but I feel really bad for his son.”

“I think I might go pay him a visit. See if I can cheer him up. Trust me, getting orphaned suddenly like that sucks.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001873.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_2351. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… kinda embarrassing story time. I ordered like 20 crates of Zima, but I couldn’t wait so I went and bought one from the store. And, uh… I couldn’t stomach it. It’s been so long since I actually drank that my body’s given up on me just like everyone else. Which is fine by me, but…”

“Now I don’t know what to do with 20 crates of Zima.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000002309.FS.M. D_09.12.1995_1342. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So some alien woman crashed into Earth this week. It was a pain to sort out, but I sent Coulson and some guy called Fury on the case. Fury has a cool name, but he’s a bit mean sometimes. I guess it’s fitting.”

“Oh yeah, I recruited Coulson. I decided to steer Mack towards more traditional engineering since I’m guessing he’d get sick of SHIELD. I got May though. It’s weird being older than them all and not being able to say anything.”

“Anyway, apparently the alien woman might be Kree? I hope not. I really, really hope not. ‘Cause if she is… well, something about this whole situation already rubs me off in the wrong way. Just… I didn’t wanna hear the word ‘Kree’ ever again.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003295.FS.M. D_05.21.1998_2126. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“We broke up the band today. We had a good run. I wish you could’ve seen us perform at least once. Miss you.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003995.FS.M. D_01.01.2000_0034. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy new year! We’re in the third millennium now so I’m catching up to you! Yeah, I know that’s not how it works, but a boy can dream, right?”

“I tried drinking again but it didn’t work out. Oh well.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000005617.FS.M. D_11.04.2008_1738. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Little Tony turned into a superhero. Iron Man, they’re calling him. I feel like storming into his house and yelling about how much danger he’s putting himself in. He could get himself killed, and then what’ll I do?!”

“...Is this how you guys feel all the time? I don’t like being the responsible one.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010007.FS.M. D_05.30.2012_1519. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Coulson is dead. I- I killed Coulson. There were all these aliens that turned up and we had to try and get the heroes to work together and I asked Coulson and Fury to help a-and that bastard trickster killed h-him. I want to kill him with my bare hands.”

“The heroes teamed up and stopped the invasion. I d-don’t really know why. When I heard about Coulson I just locked myself in. Tony said they fought for me, but that makes no sense.”

“I just… I can’t believe I screwed up so badly. Coulson was supposed to have a good few years ahead of him! H-He was supposed to bring the team together! I’m too old for that now, and I’ve messed up. I’m s-so sorry, but I… Coulson’s dead.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010015.FS.M. D_06.22.2012_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’ve decided to retire from SHIELD. I really, really can’t do this anymore. Besides, I can barely sit up straight. Fury can take over. I just need time to think.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000132907.FS.M. D_01.16.2059_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Getting old is such a pain, right? Dr Dunphy said my time’s starting to close in on me now, and that just sounds so weird to me. All my life I’ve been hopping through time and death just felt so distant. Like I was immortal or something.”

“Guess we know that’s not true.”

“Now’s as good a time as any to surprise you, then. Back when I first met Enoch, we built an LMD version of me. Surprise!”

“Ha, bet you’re not that surprised, are you. Especially you, Bobo. This quantum bridge is just about strong enough to let one person through. Only problem is that once that happens, there’s no chance of communication from either way. And plus I was running SHIELD back then, so I didn’t get the chance to get back.”

“So when I do kick the bucket, Enoch will switch it on and help me get to you. I know it’s a bad thing to say but… I’m really excited to die.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138056.FS.M. D_04.01.2061_0932. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy birthday to me… h-happy birthday to me… happy birthday dear De-eke, happy birthday to… to you.”

“I hope… I hope he has a better life than I had. Give Mom and Dad a hug from me. Do you think… my Mom and Dad will be there once I go? Does the afterlife have timelines? Ha…”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138058.FS.M. D_04.05.2061_1002. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Enoch asked me whether… whether I wanted my life memories or just my… 1985 memories. I don’t want that version o-of me to have all these memories. I don’t want h-him to know he k-killed Coulson…”

“Calm down, Mr Shaw. Try and make sense for your memoir, okay?”

“B-But then I wouldn’t be able to tell you the stories. There’s so many stories I want to tell you, so… he’ll use these memories. There were good times too.”

“I c-can’t wait to see you, Nana, Bobo. See you soon.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138059.FS.M. D_04.10.2061_1425. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hello, Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. My name is Enoch. I am a sentient chronicom from a planet that revolves around a star in the constellation you know as Cygnus. I regret to inform you that your grandson, aged 107, passed away this morning.

“As per his final request, I have sent an LMD version of Deke Shaw to what I believe is your timeline somewhere within a 10-mile radius of your location.”

“Goodbye.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

STATUS:[Offline]

[morallygreyprompts]

hello, could you do another continuation of the snippet where the hero and villain had to kiss in battle from other villains weird spell? its been a while since that one but i absolutely adore it (as well as its contintuation in the alleyway!)

Hi! Thank you very much and I hope you like what I came up with, it was a little tricky.

1st post: here 

2nd post: here

Hero and Villain were careful to stay out of sight as they made their way to Vigilante’s hideout. If Other Villain was to see them prowling around there was sure to be trouble. “[Vigilante] is gonna kill me for bringing you here.”

Villain shrugged, “I already knew it was here, just not stupid enough to try.”

Hero sighed, “Come on, let’s hope they’re in a good mood.”

Hero pushed the large bin away from an alleyway wall, revealing what looked like an air vent. They pulled it away and slipped inside. Villain followed after them.

The tunnel only went so far along until it turned into more of a slide. Hero was prepared for it but Villain was not, and with a yelp they tumbled down, landing in a heap on the floor. “It would have been nice to have been told about that,” Villain grumbled.

“Whoops,” Hero smiled, standing up in what looked like a basement.

Villain rolled their eyes and got to their feet but as they did, they realised there was a lazer pointing at their chest.

“[Hero],” Villain dared to whisper. Hero gasped.

“Hands in the air, don’t move!” Vigilante snarled. Villain obeyed, but Hero quickly stepped in front of them. 

“Don’t shoot!”

“Hey, peace, peace. I’m not here to do anything- [Hero] brought me here,” Villain added.

Vigilante scowled. Hero spoke up quickly, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. But we have a really big problem. [Other Villain] is back, making everyone like lust after whoever they’re next to. They’ve got their staff and they’re looking for their sickle. I have to ask if it’s secure.”

Vigilante lowered their gun slowly and stepped out from the shadowy room.

“Yes.”

“Is it definitely well hidden so if [Other Villain] comes looking for it, they’re not going to find it?”

“Certain.”

Hero raised an eyebrow, “Even if they can track it?”

“Slightly less certain but still confident. It’s locked up tight.”

Villain slowly lowered their arms and took the opportunity to dust themselves off. “Any idea how to get a staff off a certain chanting psycho?”

“I can first off suggest finding [Superhero]. They’re deaf, y’see, but their other powers really come in handy when dealing with them. [Other Villain] can’t do much about them magically. I’ll help out too if I can, but we won’t be able to beat them like last time, they’ll be ready for an ambush. This time we’re just going to have to attack all fronts, they can only use one or two types of attack at a time, so if we’re careful, we should be fine.”

“So will you come with us to find [SuperHero]? I’ve never met them before,” Hero said. Vigilante sighed and nodded. 

“Alright, but I want no funny business, [Villain]. I will shoot you.”

“I know, I know. You’re grumpy with a big gun. I just want [Other Villain] stopped,” Villain said. “Relax already.”

Vigilante grumbled. “Wait here. I need my things.”

Villain sat down to wait while Hero stood with arms folded. “Uh, you okay?” Villain asked. Hero nodded.

“Yeah… weird day.”

Villain nodded in agreement. “Yeah, sorry about everything that’s gone on.”

“Don’t worry about it, I. I understand,” Hero said. Villain was sure their cheek turned a little pink.

“Alright,” Vigilante declared, “Let’s go.”

It was only minutes later that they heard chanting, much louder than before, Hero and Villain’s earplugs couldn’t mask all the chanting. Villain shoved their fingers in their ears.

“Where are they?” Hero exclaimed. Villain didn’t hear them, but they saw Other Villain on top of a building, charging the biggest orb Villain had seen yet. They ran at Hero and dragged them out the way. They reached out to grab Vigilante, but it was too late. The light hit them, and as it did, it knocked their bulky headset off their ears. Pink flashed in their eyes before they got up and rushed towards Hero, trying to kiss them. 

Hero fended them off as best they could but it took Villain to yank them away from Hero. “Get off them!” they bellowed, clenching a fist. Vigilante tried again to kiss one of them, arms outstretched, waiting for an embrace.

“You like my new spell?” Other Villain boomed. “It’s my most potent yet! No one can resist it. So you can imagine my fury at you two escaping twice-”

“Get a better aim, mate. You’re useless, you really are. Give it up and go home,” Villain called out, louder than intended at not hearing their own voice. They kept shoving Vigilante backwards, again and again, protecting Hero from their embrace.

Other Villain sneered and flew down toward them, changing their chant. Super strength, Villain knew it as soon as they saw Other Villain’s hand glow. They expected to get punched, not for Other Villain to grab them by the wrist and drag them into the air. Villain tried to punch their way to freedom with their spare hand, but Other Villain tossed them in the air and caught the ankle. Villain yelped in fear, their arms flailing around for something to grab.

“Where is my weapon?” Other Villain demanded.

Hero couldn’t answer if they wanted, they were too busy keeping hold of Vigilante’s forehead and shoving them away and they murmured about soul mates, true love, and just a quick peck.

“I’m a little preoccupied at the minute!” Hero shouted.

Other Villain rolled their eyes and fired another bolt of light at Vigilante with a new chant. Vigilante seemed to freeze, unable to move so much as their eyes.

Hero scrambled away from them, grabbing a stray bottle from the ground around them. They looked at Other Villain, trying to figure out what to do or say. But then they saw a silhouette flying toward them. SuperHero, they could only hope it was Superhero. “You just froze your answer,” Hero smirked. They threw the bottle at Other Villain and Villain rushed to cover their face with their arms. The bottle made contact with Other Villain’s chest and the alarm made them drop Villain. It also broke the freezing spell, but not the kissing one. Vigilante pounced on Hero, inches away from kissing them.

Villain screamed until the silhouette dove down to catch them. They flew up fast, dropping Villain off carefully before flying at Other Villain.

“Get off!” Villain roared, grabbing Vigilante and throwing them back yet again, this time following it up with a punch.

“[Villain], stop, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

They both jumped as Other Villain launched a ball of energy at Superhero. It hit them hard, but they dragged themselves up out of the wall they’d been embedded in and punched Other Villain square in the jaw.

Vigilante wouldn’t stop trying. Hero picked up Vigilante’s gun, trying to aim for Other Villain but they were locked too closely in battle and they couldn’t get a clear shot. “Okay, so the ball of energy is new. And how do we stop this idiot?” Hero said, gesturing back to Vigilante.

“I have an idea.” Villain wrapped an arm tight around their neck, locked it into place, and started to choke them.

“Hope this isn’t a kink of yours,” Villain muttered.

“What are you doing?” Hero exclaimed.

“Switching it off and back on again! Resetting their brain.”

Villain squeezed until Vigilante passed out cold. Then they quickly lay them down and tried to get air back into their body. It didn’t take long for them to come back, but SuperHero was starting to lose the fight, those beams of raw energy were harsh on them, but they also seemed to drain Other Villain.

“W.what’s...” Vigilante croaked.

Hero passed them their gun. “Aim for that staff.”

Vigilante rolled onto their front and took aim, but they were swaying slightly.

“Enough!” Other Villain exclaimed. There was a bright flash of light, taking the shape of a hand. Hero jumped in front of Vigilante to protect them from it, but it passed right through them, grabbing Vigilante and lifting them up into the air. Their gun fell to the floor.

“That is also new!” Villain exclaimed. They tried to grab onto their ankle and pull them down, but their grip slipped.

“[Hero], protect that sickle! You know where it is!” Vigilante exclaimed, but one giant hand became two and Vigilante was trapped inside, like a snowball. SuperHero rushed forward to grab them, but there was a brilliant flash of light. Other Villain and Vigilante were nowhere to be found.

Hero groaned. “We. we weren’t prepared for that, at all… Shit, now what do we do?!”

“Protect the sickle,” Villain said. “[Other Villain] will use a truth spell on [Vigilante] as soon as they can. We maybe have minutes to get their first-”

Villain stooped, seeing a very confused Superhero beside them.

“Can you sign?” Villain asked Hero.

“Only the alphabet,” Hero admitted. “Hang on.” They scoured the floor for a pebble and wrote on the ground. [Other Villain] is looking for their sickle. Vigilante hid it, but now they’re going to find out where it is. Can you help us?

SuperHero nodded as they wiped the blood from their lip.

“Alright…” Villain scratched their head. “This time we need to be ready. If this is going to be a fight, I’m calling my Henchmen in.”

[mahalkitajohnnysuh]

Resolution

As promised, here’s the next part of my previous post. Although things look like they can wrap up here, it’s only just the beginning for Johnny and Essie. 

Since I don’t write chronologically most of the time, please expect to read snippets before and after their relationship in the coming posts. 

Without further ado, here’s a long read that has a lot of commas and the word ‘really’. Please don’t turn this into a drinking game, okay? Johnny in the GIF will look at you disbelievingly if you do. But then, he might join you just for shits and giggles.

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :) 

–––

Summary: Johnny and Essie continue to be an awkward mess that their other best friend, Kibum, notices this change. He decides to help the two by ‘counseling’ them, and settle their differences – is there any at all? – once and for all. 

POV: 2nd person still. I started writing the bulk of my stories using this perspective before I switched back to 3rd. 

Word count: 2,100 + words 

Genre: Romance, and a teeny weeny bit of angst and hurt that you probably won’t feel it. At all. 

Warning: Mentions of someone smoking, if you’re uncomfortable with characters doing so. And I could use a couple because Lord knows it’s been two months since I’m clean of it. 

–––

Kibum is such a mom, you thought. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes as he set a huge plate of pasta on the table. He cooked spaghetti with crabmeat sauce, which has edged chicken pesto out as your favorite pasta dish. You couldn’t help but clap your hands in glee as you saw the steam coming out from the plate.

“Well Essie, can you not fawn over the pasta and set the table?” Kibum was annoyed at your dilly-dallying and you immediately got to work by bringing out the fine china.

After all, he was at your apartment with him. The time has come for you to confront your problem with him, and Kibum was generous enough to give some of his time to ‘counsel’ you two.

“Youngho, can you check if we have drinks in the fridge?” The older guy ordered, and the person he asked lazily shuffled towards your red Smeg. “Hmmm, just water and a bottle of red wine. Is that okay? Or should I get some soda or something else?” He said a moment later, his hands running over the tops of the water pitchers.

“No, that’s okay. Bring them out, please,” Kibum said, returning to the table with a wooden board filled with cold cuts and cheese.

You ‘ooh’-ed at how wonderful your meal looked like, with the pasta, cold cuts, cheese, and steak. As Johnny placed the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table, you went to sit at your usual place. He sat across you, and Kibum settled in the middle.

“Thank you, Bumkey!” You and Johnny said in unison, which made the two of you look at each other. You felt your cheeks flush since it has been a while that the both of you said anything at the same time. You looked at your plate, and he did the same.

“Okay, guys? I really need to start this ‘counseling’ session since I don’t want things to become more awkward than they are,” Kibum grumbled, moving closer to the table. “So, what happened to the two of you? Why are you acting like you’re shy of each other?” He continued, hands spread wide to refer to his friends.

When no one answered, he grabbed the bottle of red wine and poured each glass. “Maybe this will loosen you up,” Kibum muttered, taking a sip of the Sangiovese you purposely reserved for special occasions. Although you consider this the opposite, maybe it’s about time that you drink it with your closest friends.

You took a sip and Johnny mirrored you, eyes shyly looking at each other. Kibum groaned again, getting frustrated with the situation. “This! It’s as if you guys are––” he paused as if something in his mind clicked.

“Are you guys in love with each other or something?”

You almost spit the wine you were drinking, and Johnny coughed. He hit the nail on the head, you thought. You set the glass on the table and slowly sank in your seat, wanting to disappear.

“Yeah, Kibum hyung. Well, I’m in love with her, but I’m not sure how she really feels for me,” Johnny said, now playing with the knife and fork. He was trying his best to be engrossed with the utensils, but then you caught him looking at you from time to time.

“You haven’t given him an answer, Essie? And what, it’s been like two weeks since we’ve been hanging out with this awkward air around us!” Kibum was near hysterics, his small eyes becoming bigger with each word that came out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You started, sitting up straight this time. “Well, I really don’t know…I mean, I do love Johnny with all my heart, but I’m not sure if this is the time to start a relationship?” Your voice faltered at the end, and you couldn’t look at them both in the eye after your admission.

“Why not, Essie? You have been single for long,” Johnny said, eyes intently looking at your face.

“Yeah, dear. You haven’t dated in ages, and I don’t mind if the two of you will do so,” Kibum interjected.

Their answer made you feel how lonely you were for the past years, being single after dating a guy on and off until he ghosted you completely. You felt tears running down your face, and you covered it, ashamed at how you were feeling right now.

Since the guy across you does really love you, he went to your side immediately and wiped your tears with his handkerchief. “You really didn’t need to do that,” you mumbled in between his wiping, and he pinched your nose gently.

“But I want to,” he said softly, now wiping the snot under your nose. “And it hurts me when I see you crying.” He patted your head, and you couldn’t help but lean against his touch.

“Not that this is cute, but are we good now? And what were you crying about, dear?” Kibum interrupted your moment, a smirk gracing his features.

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky grin and batted Johnny back to his seat. “You guys had to remind me how lonely I’ve been, and my tears couldn’t help it,” you chuckled, wiping the last of your tears with your thumb.

“Aw, we’re sorry. But you know Johnny’s here, he’s going to take real good care of you!” The older guy said cheerfully, clapping his hands in glee like what you did earlier.

“But won’t us being together affect our dynamic as LBF?” You asked. You saw Johnny roll his eyes, and you slapped a hand on your forehead, realizing that it was a stupid question to ask.

“Well, the dynamic has changed with the two of you being weird for the past weeks. But nothing stays the same, dear. If you two get together, I might feel out of place due to my lack of love life,” Kibum’s honesty made you blush, and you looked at Johnny to see his reaction. He retained a poker face, his right hand cradling his chin.

“But that doesn’t matter. As long as I see you two being your usual annoying selves, then I’m happy,” the blond continued. This made you smile, and the guy across you as well.

You were glad that your closest friends are the most supportive people you have ever met, despite the times they make fun of you as if it was your last day on earth. You stood up, enveloping Johnny in a bear hug, and he returned it with the same intensity.

“I love you, baby,” he said, squeezing your sides.

You laughed first before returning the words he wanted to hear. “I love you too, you dork.”

“Okay…why don’t we eat? The food I cooked for you is now becoming cold!” Kibum once again interfered with your moment, clapping his hands loudly before digging into the pasta in front of him.

You let go of your lover and return to your seat, happily stacking your plate with steak, cheese, and pasta. As all of you load up your plates, your chatter returned to normal: the music you’ve been listening to lately, any art exhibits you can check out now, and even accessories for Kibum’s fabulous dogs.

Your insides felt warm as you watched Kibum laugh in his iconic way, with Johnny biting his lip in the corner trying not to burst into tears. You didn’t mind if you looked ugly while laughing; it has been a while since the three of you had this much fun over dinner.

///

After your scrumptious meal, the three of you hung out. Johnny’s arms were looped around your waist as you stared into the starry sky at the balcony.

Kibum was taking a call inside, which both of you understood as a private moment for him.

“So, Kibum hyung had to convince you otherwise to take a chance on me, eh?” He asked, nuzzling his head on your shoulder.

You tried to shrug but couldn’t since he was so close to you. “Well, it’s not that he’s the reason why we’re like this right now, but…I had to confront my feelings once and for all,” you replied.

He hummed in response, burying his head deeper into your shoulder. You can smell his cologne in this position, and you couldn’t help but turn around and kiss the top of his head.

“You smell really nice,” you started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And so do you,” he replied.

You know that the two of you can get touchy with each other, but this was a whole new level. You guys have reached lover territory, which you still haven’t fully grasped yet.

Your foreheads were now touching, and he led you to slow dance. Even if there was no music playing, the sound of the city served as the beat to your movements. Your bodies pressed closer to each other, and your hands clasped tighter.

It was a moment you would never forget, and you hoped that he would think the same way too.

When he stopped swaying, he kissed your forehead. You were a bit startled, and he didn’t notice it. Instead, he continued to kiss your face – your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your chin, until he settled for your lips at last.

It was a chaste peck, and you felt all fuzzy when his lips left yours.

“You’re awfully being too sweet, dear,” you said softly, looking at him straight in the eye. “I always am, especially to you,” he replied, returning the same intense gaze you were giving him.

He was about to kiss you again when you heard knocking on the glass door. Both of you turned around and saw Kibum enter, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry to ruin your moment again guys, but I have to leave. There’s an emergency I have to tend to,” he said.

You nodded in response, and Johnny had to pull away from you so the two of you can send the older guy off to his agenda. The three of you exchanged your last pleasantries until you waved him off outside your door.

“Congratulations, you lovebirds! I’m happy for you, but please, don’t make out in front of me and our friends,” were Kibum’s last words before he sped off to his car.

The two of you weren’t able to react to his statement, and he left you two dumbfounded. You looked at each other and laughed at how specific Kibum was about not making out.

“But I will want to make out with you, even if you smell like cigarettes,” Johnny said, pulling you back into his embrace. You felt embarrassed with his revelation and covered your face with your hands.

“No, Youngho, please don’t. Let me have some mint first before you do,” you said, slowly uncovering your face and meeting his. You loved it when he looked at you amusedly as if you were a puzzle that he has yet to solve even if he had already played it a thousand times.

“It doesn’t matter if you take a mint or not, but I also want you…” This time, he leaned so close against your ear that you can hear his slow and loud breathing, “To call me daddy when we’re alone,” he finished, kissing the side of your ear.

You just did not hear him suggest that. You pushed him away and crossed your arms over your chest. “Oh, come on, Johnny! Not that! Anything, but that!” You protested, pouting at his suggestion.

He doubled over in laughter at your reaction, and he even slapped his thighs for effect. “Oh no, baby, I know you will call me that sooner or later,” he said in between fits, “But now, I’m fine with anything you call me.”

“No, I won’t call you that! It sounds as if I’m really calling my dad! And you, sir, are not my dad,” you emphasized, hands on your hips this time.  

“I will be when you become the mother of my children,” Johnny said suggestively as he tackled you for another bear hug.

“Johnnyyyyyy!” You were flustered at the way your conversation was going and buried your head on his shoulder. “You’re making me feel so embarrassed right now!”

“But I do mean all the things I said, baby!” He replied in the same high pitch as you before he kissed your temple.

You stayed silent in his embrace, and he rocked you gently. The movement of your bodies relaxed you, and you closed your eyes in contentment.

This is how life is going to be now with him by my side, you thought. You opened an eye to look at him and saw that he had his eyes closed, but with a smile on his face.

–––

FIN