#which in retrospect was a fun au idea and i probably should have done something with it

[forevercloudnine]

Not to be nosy, but is there any particular reason you are running a tally of which Batman villains are sterile?

I was going to say "it's a long story" but actually I guess it's a very short story

[rotzaprachim]

⭐ She isn’t ready for marriage, she said. She isn’t ready to be tied to a man, to be anything more or less than herself alone. The Kerch made the whole business easy by never referring to this thing they’re doing as a marriage, all the paperwork is about Economic Units, Civil Unions. There were so many pages of jargon it made Inej’s eyes bleed. Future children held less inches of fine grey type than agreements on pigs and shipping company stocks, and were described in the same economic language.

Kaz went through the whole thing line by line until the she was sure she was going to call for an annulment before they’d even gotten the damned thing notarised, or else make herself a tastefully rich and very young widow.

“It’s a contract,” he said. “You should know all the details before you sign your life away.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Inej said, irritated by the last several pages about Property Division in the Event of Medium Sized or Larger Storms, Grisha Attacks, and General Flooding, “I’m not signing my life away.”

“When you get married, it might be difficult to annul if you’ve still got a legal Kerch-”

“When I get married?” she shot back challengingly. “To who?”

“I don’t know. That fire-tongued revolutionary who writes you poetry and will make you a new world. The Kaelish tavern maid who always pours you a free beer in her bar while you sing about the plight of the repressed. Someone hopelessly moon-eyed and optimistic, who thinks the world shits rainbows and knows what you’re worth.”

“You, Kaz Brekker,” she finally sighed, “are a hell of a lot dumber than they say you are.” ⭐

this is from in secret, between the shadow and the soul! This fic has kind of a complicated story- I had devoted my free writing time that summer to writing an inej-centric hunger games au which currently sits at 20k on my laptop and may or may not ever see the light of day. but it very much DID get me thinking about the complexity of inej and kaz's relationship and just relationships in general. on a whim while i was waiting for someone in a medical center waiting room a bit of a trip from home (nothing of concern but i had a notebook and a pen and no wifi and a bunch of like half hour snippets of free time) I started writing something for fun totally disconnected from the AU and very self indulgent. i love historical fiction and well-done historical romances, and one thing I'm so fascinated in in general is marriage. as a social, religious, economic and cultural institution. because it's something both found in so many times and cultures and yet the reasons for and views on why people get married are so debated and complex and variable. and so i think a lot of the stuff about what we owe each other, in a way, and contracts, got remixed into this fic.

in retrospect I think this fic marked a really landmark moment for me as a writer, which was when I went from writing mainly AU's to writing mainly canon. i started writing and reading fic when modern AU's and such were really predominating over everything, esp in the star wars and the 100 fandoms, and I think the canon for SW in particular scared me, or I felt in some way constrained to the style of the original. writing this made me realise how much fucking around with the style of originals is actually what as a writer i love to do. writing fic in the original universe of something means having to crack it open a bit to see what the component parts are (I guess Kaz would have a whole lockpicking metaphor about that!)

 i think the big vibe between kaz and inej here is sort of digging into that pseudo-regency combo of intimacy and restraint that really characterises their mix of electricity and emotional remove. and that's on full display here, because they have this thing as big as a MARRIAGE on the table and are having to figure out how to deal with it. so we’ve got the collision course of kerch’s hell capitalism and how they think of marriage as a financial agreement above all- which is definitely not the only reason or cause that people have gotten married historically, but has in various societies been a major factor. we’ve got inej, who emphatically does not, as she says, want to be tied to a man in this kind of economic situation. but i don’t think she is flatly opposed to a marriage in the future that’s thought of more in terms of familial ties and children. one of the kanej lines in CK that lives in my mind the most is probably the whole thing after the bathroom scene of, “what was she supposed to do? find a kind husband, have his children, and sharpen the knives after the family had gone to bed.” so for her there’s this internal argument between the life she might have had and the one she’s having now, and what the life she actually wants now is. Even if these questions are still very hypothetical, i think the hypothetical future is on the table for almost everyone who’s planning on getting married. meanwhile Kaz doesn’t want to tie her back to him or ketterdam in any way that can’t be undone! she’s not his girl but she can have him if that’s what she wants! he’s certainly repressing himself and telling himself it’s for her sake her, in a way, but a few lines after this whole thing ends up signed he’s got a whole little tongue slip about kids. SO. and the thing is about them too that I don’t think they’re flatly solely repressed! I think they’re remarkably comfortable with each other and are Dealing With Things in this whole fic in a remarkably adult way. They’re getting there! but anyway TL:DR I’d say this scene for me is actually sort of the I DO serious wedding moment. it’s kaz’s whole idea that she’s only doing this wedding thing for her practical purposes and he won’t be the one to tie her down again, she’ll find someone else better because who wouldn’t love INEJ, and then it’s inej going YOU YOU LITERALLY SHAPE UP YOU’RE THE HUSBAND. 

thank you SO much for sending me this! it was fun to puzzle this one over a bit and i do actually have thousands of words still in my mind about them and their marriage that i WILL get back to! 

[bookwyrminspiration]

WAIT. I'm late to the party but I just remembered all those anons were sending in "why I send you asks" and their reasons and I actually really want to participate, so I hope you will accept late applications?

The reason I send you so many asks is because you've just...built such a nice feeling that anything can be discussed, and it's never too niche or cringy or boring, and that's really relieving and amazing.

I'm sure you (along with many others) have realized by now, but I suffer from....really bad anxiety, both social anxiety and just in general, and it very often gets in the way of my life. Because of this and past experiences, I'm always very scared and hesitant to talk about my interests and my thoughts on anything.

But every time I've sent you an ask, even if it was, in retrospect, probably really annoying to read through the one hundred "sorry"s and "my bad"s, you've always been nothing but kind and interested in my ideas, and that was just...so surprising. Because I never really knew anyone who was willing to talk about anything, and it was just...really amazing to meet someone who was! Especially because I love and am interested in so many different things and kind of need someone to bounce ideas at. And it was really cool to see someone that was unashamed of their own interests and thoughts, but didn't make others feel bad for having different ideas.

Every time I send you an ask, you always have something interesting to say back. Something I hadn't thought of or considered, or a query that would make me rethink my own theories, or just a very well-thought-out answer to a question. I remember sending in tons of asks about the wings AU before it was released, and writing those was probably the highlight of my day, because I knew you'd take them and run with the ideas, and do your best to match my energy, and I was really grateful for that. And you were always willing to dig deeper, to think "but what if there was more?" and that's just...incredible! I don't have any other word for it!

I love sending you asks because you don't dismiss an idea or deem it as stupid, and you're just...such a kind and wonderful person that can make even the most obscure subject infinitely more interesting than before, and you never fail to make me consider things again, to expand my thoughts and views, and I'm really grateful for that.

So, because it should definitely be said by now, thank you!

And, well, that's why I love sending you asks :]

- pyro

there is no timeline so there's no way to be late! and I'm answering this a few days after you sent this, so if you believe yourself to be late then we can both be late together :D. you are fully welcome to participate if you want to (which you said you did)! it was mostly just a random question I had because i'm just as analytical with myself as I am with keeper, and knowing how other perceive and think of me is helpful for that--and I was curious about how i'd aquired so many asks so quickly, and then you all just turned it into complimenting quil hours for some reason !! (but on to your ask before I get even more distracted)

(note from a quil who has answered all of this: got very long so that's why there's a readmore! i love you /p)

this means so much to me--specifically your use of "built" because I do try pretty hard to maintain a positive atmosphere and welcome everyone in and treat everyone with the same attention. it didn't just fall into place, i try to be encouraging to everyone and support all the amazing work--art, writing, ideas, etc--I see from people. (note: i've been wanting to do a thing where I ask for fic/art/other recommendations from others (can be friends or their own) so i can go through and reblog a bunch of them with comments and the like, I just want to get through more of my asks before I start something like that). But you're right--nothing is too niche! there's so many details in the story it's impossible for one person to notice anything, so people bringing up the obscure and their own thoughts makes the story richer and more fleshed out for everyone else! and i think it's really cool to just see what other people focus on (like I said, my analysis isn't limited to characters, but I'm not like dissecting you all to understand each of you in a creepy way or anything. I just like to get a better sense of someone so I can respond in a way more tailored to them when we interact)

anxiety can really suck, so as someone who also has anxiety i am giving you a comforting hug if you'd like one. it genuinely impacts everything you do and think about, rewriting how you experience life. a single, inconsequential experience to someone else can literally change major aspects of how we think, which makes interactions so scary sometimes. i remember things people said years ago and still base my actions around them, but those people have absolutely no recollection of ever saying it, but just the fear of having done something wrong once permanently altered my thinking. (this is not to make this about me, I'm just trying to show I understand by sharing an experience of my own).

reading through all your "i'm sorry"s and "my bad"s wasn't annoying and never will be. you have never had anything to apologize for, and I know that sometimes you feel you need to enter a conversation and first apologize for being there, but I'm thrilled to have you here and always love seeing you in my inbox. I don't know how to articulate this properly, but I'm going to try. i saw your apologies and your apprehension as...a puzzle? that's absolutely not the right word but I can't think of the right one so please let me explain (I don't mean to imply you're like something to be solved or a problem in any way. words can be difficult and I'm trying to describe something very intangible rn, so I hope this doesn't sound bad). I didn't see it as annoying (you're never annoying), I saw it like it was something to work through, and while it's not my job or anything to help other's with their personal problems, it was like if I could just provide one space where I could encourage you (not just you, but anyone) as a friend to try shifting your language and start thinking of yourself more positively, then I wanted to give that.

because I am interested in your ideas! and I want to be kind and welcoming to you! but I also want you to be kind to yourself, so any impact I've had to give anyone a safer, less scary space is really cool. I don't know if that made sense, but I'm not trying to talk down to you or anything or be like I'm this high and mighty figure harboring lost souls or something, just that connection is important and I like being there for people. kinda worried that sounded bad because it feels worded strange but I'm trying to reciprocate and say i appreciate you and am happy to talk about anything!

i love bouncing ideas back and forth and you are more than welcome to say anything and everything you're thinking about. talking to you is always an absolutely joy and I get so excited when you send me an ask and when you're reading my response, because it often feels like this like...buzz? like we're just vibing on this frequency and it makes it so much fun to throw ideas back and forth and just listen to each other talk. i am very glad to have surprised you and met you! I don't know a lot of people like myself either, so having someone like you interact with me and just go all out on these little things and what we personally like about different parts of the so much fun. a lot of the other people I know irl feel like they just scratch the surface, they say things just to get credit for it and to appear like they know what they're talking about while ignoring all these other things that have such an impact, so it's amazing to have found someone else who looks at everything and anything like I do. my brain really is "a little bit of everything all of the time" so knowing you have so many different interests too is really cool. i am giving you an internet high five and pretending you aren't so far away.

I spent so much of my life being quiet when I had so many thoughts, so now that I have this kind of outlet I just! want to say everything I can! i want to look at everything from every perspective possible! the world is a huge collection of things tied together and I love following the strings to find the connected pieces! but I think that's a way of approaching the world not a lot of people share (I could be wrong), so it's really cool to hear you think my thought process is interesting!! my brain is practically composed entirely of questions. any subject at any time of the day and nearly all of my thoughts are just wanting to know more and trying to understand things, so having that opportunity to ask further questions and just learn things (about what other's thing, how things work, etc) is so much fun. you might've seen me ask some questions of other's in a few of the asks I answer, but those barely scratch the surface of just how many I have. my handle is in_quil_sitive (inquisitve) on nearly every social media platform (except for this one) for a reason.

I remember some of your asks from before the wings au was published, too. those were absolutely incredible, and I got a rush of excitement every time I saw you sent another. those were the the highlight of my week, too!! your enthusiasm and excitement for something I hadn't even posted yet gave me so much motivation to continue and you helped me think through so many future ideas and consider things from new perspectives. i know i specifically wrote that you inspired one chapter in the notes, but you've had an impact on every single chapter of this story/ it wouldn't be what it is without you, and I mean that with complete sincerity. you were the one who made me think "what if there was more" so I could make this au even better and work towards something bigger. I just have so many thoughts about everything all of the time, I can't go more than a few minutes without being distracted by a different train of thought, but knowing there was someone who would want to hear all the weird, disjointed ideas i'd strung together and composed into a more cohesive format was so cool. there's just so much to think about!!

I probably sound repetitive at this point but I love answering your asks because you're so receptive to the way i say things and it's like you're actually listening and want to hear what I specifically have to say, not just the general ideas. you want to know my unique, personalized opinions and perspectives and don't just dismiss them when they're not what you expect to hear or aren't generic. you're incredibly kind, too, I hope you know. I love the description of how I can "make even the most obscure subject infinitely more interesting than before." that is such a meaningful compliment to me. I just keep thinking about this line over and over again and it just...it really means a lot. because you're saying it's me that interests you and not just what I talk about. I could talk about anything and you'd still want to interact with me and that's so fucking nice. I hope you know the same goes for you. we can challenge each other's thinking together and make things even deeper and more complex before together <33.

thank you for being here and being my friend, pyro. talking to you is always one of the highlights of my day and gives me a very positive feeling that I carry around for a while. I do this thing sometimes where I film myself to later observe my behaviors in the middle of intense emotions to understand myself better (back to that whole analysis thing again), but it's not just negative things, it's also when I'm really excited or pleased with something and jumping around and stimming and all that, and some of those are from when I interact with you. that might sound a little weird but I mean it positively, as in talking with you makes me ecstatic.

I have said. so many things. so I will stop (for now). but I really appreciate having you in my life <33

[oncelers-panties]

Cheer Practice

Pairing: Oncest (College AU)

Warnings: mild coercion, general n/sfw

Ao3 Link

Once-ler loses a bet and is forced to do something quite embarrassing. To his suprise, he enjoys it. 

In retrospect, accepting to race against a running back had not been the brightest idea.

But in the heat of the moment, he hadn´t thought of that. Not when said running back, a brash guy named Greed, had to become his dormmate. Living with the man was all sorts of awful. Once-ler had to get used to sweaty clothes being strewn all over their bedroom, towers of dirty dishes and take-out boxes in the kitchen, hair in the drain- all such pleasantries. But the worst of it all was being awoken in the middle of the night by either the drunk yelling of Greed´s entire football team coming from the kitchen, or the screams and grunts of lovers he brought along for a good time.

Patient and passive by nature, Once-ler tried to handle it the best he could. He´d politely tell the man to please maybe clean up after himself, to mind the curfew, to quiet down a little during the late hours. Greed would wave it off, replying that he´d see to it, but nothing about his behavior would ever change. All that was left for Once-ler was to let out a defeated sigh and do the job himself, cleaning up the messes left behind by his dormmate´s companions and quietly reciting his studies in his head every other night, hoping it would tune out the creaks of the mattress and moans sounding from a few feet away. He was about to come to terms with the fact that this is how things were going to go for the next few years. But even the meekest of people have a breaking point.

For him, it was when he came back after a particularly tedious lecture, walking straight into the kitchen to soothe his growling stomach with a quick snack, barely able to stand on his legs from exhaustion. To his immense displeasure, the meal he´d prepared the day before had mysteriously disappeared, and so had several bags of his favorite brand of marshmallows. Clenching his teeth, he dropped onto his bed without looking, and noticed too late the pair of some stranger ´s underwear lying on his mattress for some reason.

A frustrated groan sounded from his throat, soon turning into an enraged scream as he stomped into the bathroom where Greed was busying himself with his hair, and threw said underwear straight into his face.

“Dude,” the sportsman said after a few seconds of shock, throwing the piece of cloth away from him “what the fuck was that?”

“I could ask you the same thing! I´ve had it with you and your bullshit! Do you and your buddies have to behave like complete assholes every day?”

Greed gave him a nonchalant look, which only enraged Once-ler more.

“I´m talking about the messes you make constantly, and the fact that I haven´t had a good night of sleep this whole week! Can´t you fuck somewhere else? Can´t you put away your laundry and wash the dishes for once? Can you not tell your stupid friends to keep their hands off of my food?!”

“Ah, that´s what you mean. Fine, I´ll tell them, geez. Not something to throw such a fit over.”

“Maybe for you it isn´t. But some people aren´t happy about living in a pigsty! You either start acting like a normal person, keep this place clean and move your nightly orgies to somewhere else, or go rent a single room, because I´m this close to reporting you! I want to be able to sleep in peace in the room I pay for with my own money, for God´s sake!”

Despite being taken aback by his usually mellow dormmate´s sudden outburst, Greed rolled his eyes, crossing his arms before his chest.

“Look, I need to wind down after a long day on the field, alright? The games are hard, and that´s my way of relaxation. Can´t you just get earmuffs or something?”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Once-ler hissed, voice dripping with venom as he tried his hardest to not strangle the other instantly. “Running back and forth and throwing a ball around. That must be so terribly stressful.”

“As if you´d know,” Greed snarled, “You just sit on your ass inside this room all day, and probably wouldn´t be able to run twenty feet without passing out.”

The two men stared at each other, fuming in silence, until suddenly, an idea formed in the sportsman´s head, evident by the snide smile appearing on his face.

“Listen,” he drawled out, “how about a bet?”

“I´m really not in the mood for that right now.”

“Just hear me out: since you think what I´m doing is so easy, why don´t we have a race? If you can beat me- no, if you can at least somewhat keep up with me, I´ll move out of this dorm, and you won´t see my face around here ever again.”

“And if I lose?” Once-ler responded after a moment of careful thinking. Greed´s widening grin should have been enough to deter him from agreeing to his terms. In fact, he should have told him to go screw himself and report his behavior to the resident assistant. But there was a part of him that wanted to wipe that cocky expression off his face and pay him back for every single sleepless night he had subjected him too.

It went about as well as one can imagine, and as he lay on the ground after stumbling over his own legs, he wished the fall would´ve broken his neck, a preferable option to what he was about to be subjected to later…

 “Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on.”

The commanding voice pulled Once-ler back into the present, and with a shudder and a crestfallen gaze, he once again took in his surroundings. Greed had ordered him to come to one of the changing rooms after his afternoon football training. Why he needed him in this stuffy, cold location that smelled like someone had overdosed on body spray, he had no idea. Probably to make this whole ordeal more embarrassing for him. At least the sportsman had been generous enough not to invite his teammates to laugh along with him.

Pressing his lips together, Once-ler lowered his head, regarding the two-piece outfit he was holding in a deadly grip. It was a cheerleading uniform, consisting of a pleated skirt and a short, sleeveless top that had the name of his college´s football team written on the front. He stared at it like one would at his worst enemy, then slowly turned his gaze to Greed, still refusing to believe that this was happening.

“Do I really have to do this?” he questioned in a desperate tone, watching as the other made himself comfortable on the bench he had taken a seat on.

“Of course,” the man replied in a falsely sweet voice, crossing his legs. “We agreed to the terms of the bet, right? And you lost, so now you gotta do as I tell you.”

Once-ler´s shoulders slumped from the heavy realization that Greed was being completely serious.

“But-“

“Don´t make such a big deal about it, the sooner you do it, the quicker you´ll be over with it.”

The amused tone those words were said in made it obvious that his dormmate was having an awful lot of fun, and it made Once-ler clutch the material of the clothes even tighter, eyes shooting daggers at the other.

“This is childish,” he hissed, shaking his head. “You´re acting like a complete jerk. I get it, you won. You´re better than me. Dozens of people have seen me fall on my face in the middle of the football field, and you and your buddies are not going to let that go until we´re out of college. Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Do you really-“

“Now, Oncie, don´t be like that. You wouldn´t be going back on your word, would you? It´s one thing to be a lousy sportsman, but to break a promise…”

Greed rested his chin on his hand, staring at the other intently, and demanded once again, less playfully this time:

“Just put on the clothes.”

A strange shiver went up Once-ler´s spine at the cold trace of dominance in the other´s voice, and he averted his eyes, suddenly not able to stand his glare. Really, though, he was right. He´d just get it out of his way, leave, and pretend it never happened. Or rather, remember it forever and be tormented by the memory every night for the rest of his life.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath, shooting worried glances at the door. “But you won´t, like, record it or anything? And there aren´t any of your friends outside, waiting to barge in and laugh at me?”

“Of course not! No one´s ever around here this time of day. Besides, what kind of guy to you take me for?”

Once-ler just scoffed at that remark, deciding not to answer. As he was about to take off his shirt, he noticed that Greed showed no intention of looking away or closing his eyes, so he turned around, taking a deep breath before throwing off his clothes and starting to dress up.

“Where did you even get these from?” he asked during the process, having a hard time squeezing himself into the top that was obviously too tight for him. Which wasn´t surprising, considering that these clothes were made for young women much smaller than him.

“Don´t you worry about it. Turn around, get over here.”

Exhaling sharply through his nose, regretting every decision in his life that had led him to this moment, Once-ler faced his tormentor, unwilling steps carrying him forward. He was expecting the other to cackle like a hyena to the point of stomachaches, but was met with nothing of that sort.

Greed´s insufferable grin waned a little, and instead of laughing out loud he stared his dormmate up and down, gaze getting stuck at the long legs only barely covered by the scant skirt and the exposed midriff. He leaned forward with a whistle.

“Well, damn. That doesn´t look too bad. Willing to bet that my team wouldn´t ever lose a single game if we had you cheering for us in that get-up.”

Flushing at that comment, Once-ler reached for the skirt´s hem and pulled it downwards, embarrassment clear on his face.

“Ha. Very funny. Are you quite done? Can I change back now?”

“Nuh uh. You´re not done yet,” the running back replied, smugly wagging his finger. “What have we agreed upon? If you lose, you put on the uniform… and do a little cheer dance. Don´t tell me you´ve forgotten?”

Once-ler gritted his teeth. Of course he hadn´t forgotten, but he´d hoped the other wouldn´t remember. Again, luck wasn´t on his side. How was he supposed to do that, anyway? He couldn´t even do normal dances, much less gymnastic ones. When he voiced his concerns to Greed, the man just shrugged.

“Just improvise. You´re one of those creative artistic people, so it should be easy for you.”

“That´s not really how it works…”

Wondering whether the other would have held his word were he the one in this situation, Once-ler begrudgingly began to move, staring at his feet to not bear the other´s gaze. His motions were pretty sluggish, and consisted mostly of him swaying lightly from side to side, with a sour expression. It caused Greed to raise his eyebrows critically.

“You know, you´re supposed to do a cheer dance. That doesn´t look very cheerful to me. Can´t you do something that´s a bit nicer to look at?”

“Nicer to look at? What the hell do you expect me to do?” Once-ler angrily snapped at his dormmate as he came to a halt, patience wearing thin. He was already fed up with the other´s behavior, feeling like he was taking this too far. Sure, they had a bet, but Greed really was going out of his way to make it as difficult as possible. How damn childish could that guy be?!

The sportsman, however, didn´t seem to be phased by the other´s rough tone, still staring at him with a strange glint behind his eyes.

“Why not try shaking your hips? That always gets the players motivated,” he purred, and Once-ler, wanting to put an end to it all, swallowed his pride and obeyed. Not that there was much left of it at this point.

However, while he did feel like a complete idiot, there was something else as well, an unexpected sensation that made his face heat up from something other than embarrassment. It was the way Greed´s gaze travelled all over his body, lingering on ever bit of skin. The way he leaned forward, almost seeming hypnotized by how the pleated skirt swung from side to side with each of his dormmates motions, sometimes flashing way more than what would be considered modest. The rhythmic sound of his fingers tapping against the bench, the sight of his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

What was that all about? And why did he feel like burning up under those mossy-greens, skin breaking out in goosebumps from a sudden wave of excitement washing over him?

Maybe it was because he, for some reason, became aware of the other´s attractiveness in that very moment. Before that, he´s never really had the chance to notice it, mostly because Greed´s insufferable behavior oftentimes detracted from whatever good qualities he possessed. But now, with him sitting in silence, radiating something far more intense and captivating than his usual cockiness, all of his perks shone through in an instant. And God, there were many of them.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he gets this much traction every single week,” a small voice in the back of Once-ler´s head whispered, and despite his best efforts, he could not get it to shut up. He thought back to the many nights he he´d spent awake because of the noises his roommate´s partners had made, and it caused his mind to travel to much darker places on its own. He recalled getting up a night for some water, only to catch a glimpse of Greed pushing some guy against the wall, wrapping his fingers around his neck, calling him his pretty boy as the other writhed underneath him in visible ecstasy.

The resurfacing memory made Once-ler hold his breath for a little too long, legs beginning to shake as he became aware of the direction his thoughts were taking, of how wrong this whole situation now seemed. That moment would´ve been the right time to stop, to tell Greed that he´s had enough and leave, preferably to a place where he wouldn´t have to be around his roommate for a while. But he couldn´t. There was a part of Once-ler that wanted to keep this terrible man´s attention on him, one that made him want to tempt a little more, to find out just how much it took to make Greed do more than just stare.

What would he do, if he were to tease him that much? Get all mean, make some raunchy comments, maybe even bend him over his knee in this same dressing room, lift up that skirt and spank the bad behavior out of him? Or hold him down by his throat, like he did with that other boy, have him crying and gasping from his touch?

A frustrated sound left Once-ler´s mouth, and he forced himself to snap out of it, keep these thoughts from further fogging his mind. Only now did he notice how shallow his breaths have suddenly become, his trembling hands and racing heart, the fact he´d been eating Greed up with a half-lidded gaze this entire time…

“That´s enough, I think,” he managed to stutter out, running a sweaty palm through his hair nervously. “You had your fun. I´m leaving.”

“You sure you wanna go?” the other replied huskily, looking as devious as ever. “Because it seems like I´m not the only one having fun here.”

Light-headed, Once-ler followed his eyes, his face turning pale only to burst into color a second later when he realized that this situation had excited him way more than it should´ve had.

He let out a yelp, covering himself and looking away in shame, gritting his teeth as his dormmates low chuckle echoed throughout the room. And if that wasn´t enough, he felt the man tugging at the hem of the skirt, roughly pulling it up and exposing the hardened dick throbbing beneath tight boxer briefs.

Once-ler opened his mouth to protest, but no sound other than a small whimper would come out, and he couldn´t even bring himself to push the other´s hand away, instead only watching him flick his tongue over his lip.

“Oh my… someone enjoyed dancing for me a lot. What´s the matter? Does little Oncie-Woncie have a crush on the running back?”

“Sh-shut up,” the blue-eyed man weakly shot back, not sounding threatening at all.  

“You can just step away, you know. If you keep standing here like that, I might get the idea that you want me to do something bad to you,” Greed purred, fingertips lightly brushing over the bare legs as he hungrily looked back up to his roommate. “What´s it gonna be?”

The man´s words did something to him, body being shaken by a pleasant shudder as he leaned forward into the touch, heated skin aching for more contact. His clothes felt much too tight, already leaking length straining against the fabric of his underwear, and despite his better judgement screaming at him from somewhere in the back of his mind, he remained in place. Paralyzed like prey before a beast, wondering how far the other would go.

Thus, he didn´t struggle when the other grabbed him by the waist and pulled him onto his lap, making him straddle it. Greed didn´t waste any time admiring the view in silence, cold hands wandering downward, kneading the soft flesh of his roommate´s thighs before having them disappear beneath the thin material of the skirt. The way they traced the shape of his hips and the small curve of his ass forced a whimper out of his mouth, and Greed took that as an invitation to let the tip of his fingers slip under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down with ease. Humming lowly, the running back stroked the underside of the erect member with his index finger, all the way upwards to the tip, where he rubbed it against the wet slit.

“My, I had no idea you felt this way about me. No wonder you were always so pissed about inviting people over, it´s cause you were jealous, weren´t you?” he sang, leaning towards the other to lick a bead of sweat off the underside of his jaw, teeth lightly pulling on the skin there right after. It made Once-ler clasp a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle another moan, and his defiant expression began to melt away with each small touch.

“As if-” he countered, voice breaking off into a sweet sigh when the sportsman´s fingers waltzed across the small of his back. “As if anyone would get jealous about an utter asshole like you. You´re the worst.”

Greed replied with a scoff, wrapping his fingers around the other´s member and giving it a few firm pumps, grinning in satisfaction at how it made Once-ler gasp and squirm in his lap.

“Then why the fuck did you get this hard from shaking your ass for me, huh? Because you are a little freak who´s into being ordered around and has the hots for me, obviously,” he mouthed back, suckling at the nape of that delicate neck as he pulled the trembling body even closer. “So drop the good boy act and behave.”

Those words went right through the blue-eyed man´s already aching loins, and not even the pout on his furiously blushing face and an attempt at an angry glare could hide how he was really feeling.

“Jerk,” was all that he could whimper, followed by a scream when Greed suddenly bit his nipple through the fabric of his tight top, brushing his lips along the narrow chest afterwards.

“Slut,” came the murmured reply as the running back fumbled with the fly of his pants, showing off the sizable bulge in his underwear the sight of which made Once-ler drop any attempt to counter his remark.  “Someone might hear you if you keep being this noisy.”

“I thought no one´s around here this time of day,” the man on Greed´s lap quietly replied, holding his breath as the other took him by the wrist and, after getting his own boxers out of the way, guided his hand towards his manhood. It was hot, felt too large between Once-ler´s thin fingers, and the way it throbbed against his palm made his blood burn in the best possible way.

“That screaming of yours might still attract someone´s attention. Imagine that, getting caught jerking off a football player in the changing room… my, you´d surely get a lot of attention afterwards. I´d have to have to fight off your ‘suitors’ by the dozens,” he heard the other whisper, while his hand was being moved up and down the erect length that he couldn´t take his eyes off. “Like what you´re looking at, baby? Bet you´d much rather have that inside you, though.”

The hot air of his dormmates breath hitting the shell of his ear sent a quiver through his body, and he pressed himself against the other to keep that heat close. Something about the scent of Greed´s aftershave and his strong grip on the small of his back made him feel so, so unbearably needy. He couldn´t stand that guy and hated that smug expression of his, but damn if he didn´t want to steal some low, raspy moans from those lips, along with a kiss or two and some saccharine words of praise. Sure, he would be far from the first one to get to hear those, but he didn´t care at that point, beginning to compliantly pump the other´s dick with steady movements on his own. The action had the desired result, making Greed groan through his teeth and return the gesture with the same intensity while keeping his sight trained on his roommate´s face, taking in every twitch of his mouth and flutter of his eyelashes.

“You know, you´re really cute when you´re not constantly nagging about something,” he panted, lightly dragging his nails across the other´s spine along with his strokes. “You should join the cheer team for real, keep the players motivated. Can´t promise I won´t keep my hands to myself if you distract me too much, though.”

“God, you´re… ah- just so awful,” the blue-eyed man´s voice trailed off when he felt Greed´s tongue flick over his earlobe. Desperate for the other to touch him harder, he thrusted his hips forward, whimpering when the motion caused their cocks to touch.

“For someone that hates me this much, you sure look like you´re having a great time sitting on my lap.”

The running back wrapped his fingers around both of them, bringing their mouths close together but stopping just short of a kiss, smiling at how desperately the other was staring at his lips.

“Earn it,” Once-ler heard him order.

It was enough to make him give in, make him wrap his arms around the man´s neck for support as he steadily ground against him, fucking himself into his hand. The other´s heat was coursing through him with every movement he made, and he couldn´t help but pull on the back of his shirt, panting from how good the friction felt. It only intensified when Greed tightened his grip around the two of them, running his fingers through Once-ler´s hair with a slight pull.

“Pretty,” he softly murmured as he brought the tip of his tongue against his roommate´s mouth, having a taste before finally clashing their lips together.

Greed´s were warm and a little wet, with a talented tongue that sent sparks of pleasure through the blue-eyed man´s veins, caused him to rut against his tormentor like an animal in heat, eyes falling shut and limbs growing weak. As the room echoed with both their moans, he could feel himself getting closer to release, and it took just a few more thrusts- a few more of the running back´s touches- for climax to set in. His head fell forward, coming to rest on other´s shoulder, and he let out a muffled cry when the long-awaited sensation swept over him.

That little sound along with how his body shook with pleasure was just what was needed to push Greed over the edge as well; he groaned in delight, sinking his teeth into Once-ler´s neck again to suck on the creamy skin, catching the hot spurts of their cum in his palm.

Afterwards, it took a while for them to come down from their high, and even when their heartbeats slowed and breathing evened out, they didn´t distance themselves from each other, remaining in place as they were.

A long moment of silence followed during which Once-ler had a hard time deciding what he was supposed to be more shocked by: the fact that he´s just had a sexual encounter with his insufferable roommate, or that he had enjoyed every second of it?

Face still hidden in embarrassment as he tried to come to terms with the situation, he brought his fingers to the spot on his neck Greed had so lovingly bitten.

“If you´ve given me a hickey I´m going to fucking kill you,” he muttered, hearing the other chuckle in reply.

“Consider me a dead man, then. Besides, you should get used to those. Your performance is still lacking, and we´ll need more dancing practice to fix that, love.”

To that, Once-ler could do nothing but let out a frustrated sigh. Somehow, he had the feeling that he wasn´t going to get a good night of rest anytime soon.

[zahra-kha]

Dear Diary 28

I’ve been busy preparing for the Lucky Sparrow show. I’m in a lot of group performances and I want to get the timing right. I’m also considering remodeling my apartment. I’ve written father but he hasn’t written me back in a while. I think he’s busy. He’s been trying to gain access to a mine near a village in the mountain ranges. They’ve been in talks for a while now about this deep, underground mine that’s kept the town afloat for generations. Father wants to take over and improve their revenue and making several quality of life investments overall. He’s been sweet talking the townsfolk but it’s been putting him at odds with the mayor there. That’s all I know since last we’ve spoken.

Still no word from Sahrin and Fitaan about Armand. I think I’m fine with that. I mean, I still don’t know what I’m going to do or say when I see Armand. What is there to say? “Hey, why did you try to kill me?” I already know why, or at least, I have a good idea. Honestly, a part of me hopes they don’t find him and that he just disappears. Sai and Esila have gone quiet and Cecilia’s been missing for moons now too.

I feel alone. It feels like the troupe, my family, is falling apart.

Plume was last night! It was great to go to my second home, relax and fight some! It was busy, we had nearly a full house, that was great! I love going around and chatting people up at tables and getting to know people, and the fights were great! Tamala and Kaito won their fights...although it was weird seeing Conor in a moogle suit.

I put in a lot of orders for fish and chips, it’s a popular dish I guess! Something happened with Vin since I last saw him, because he’s a girl now! I guess something with alchemy? I’m not sure, but she looks great! I didn’t recognize her, since it’s been a while but she seemed relaxed and not as stressed or tense. Maybe the things that had been weighing on her has eased or been lifted. I hope so. We were never really close but she seemed to carry a darkness in her that troubled her deeply. Especially when it came to her feelings for Trystan.

My match was with Jasper! I’ve been wanting to properly fight him for moons so I was excited. And no, it’s not because I like him - it’s mostly because I respect him and I think he’s a great fighter. I admire his skills and I really wanted to test my own against his to see how far I’ve grown.

But then he tried to pull my tail >:|

Yes, it’s a legitimate strategy, the tail is a sensitive part of the body but it’s like...it’s like...if I’d gone for a crotch shot or something! I don’t know! It’s not the same but I was still a little peeved about it! Not so much because he did it, but because I remember Khan taunting someone else about pulling my tail and how au ra squeal and just - ugh! 

So maybe I wasn’t the most mature in how I responded. I might have tried to be a brat and stabbed him using a move he likes to do with the dagger he gave me.

I might have done that on purpose. I have my moments. I have never once said I was a girl who takes the high road. In my defense he tried to stab me in the shoulder first I just succeeded where he failed.

Why am I justifying myself to my journal. I’m not in the wrong here!

And then he took my dagger! Okay, to be fair I did leave the dagger in his shoulder but! BUT! I was going to pull it out before he sliced my arm and moved away! I really was! What kind of friend would just leave their dagger embedded in their friend’s shoulder! Not this friend!

Well, technically I did but not on purpose! I’ll die on that hill.

Anyway I won that fight, although I’d still love to go against him again. He’s a deadly opponent and I can’t hold back against him and that makes me happy. Plus, it’s just fun to fight against friends.

We got into an argument though (I think it was the first time?) - in retrospect it was probably a silly argument to anyone who was watching, but he took my (yes MY) dagger and I wanted it back! Plus, it might have just been another dagger for him, but for me it was a something a friend gave me, so it’s precious to me. I treasure all of the things my friends give me, and I’ve been training diligently with that dagger. It was a silly argument, but I wasn’t going to back down.

Gods, and he just had to say ‘alls fair in love and war’, I can’t believe him. He didn’t even mean anything by it but I immediately reacted on reflex. Jasper you clueless Doman never change but at the same time please be less frustrating.

After the fight, some healing, and taking a few more orders, Jasper was nice enough to give me back my dagger and after chatting about how I didn’t have a pair, he gave me one that balanced right. I wasn’t able to convey how touched and happy I was because Erith and Eir’s fight morphed into such epic proportions that it blinded the entire room, but I was. 

I don’t...think? There was a winner to that fight? Erith said he won and Quin carried him away to recover but well. Ok.

After that Tyme and Quin fought. Quin used a gunblade for a bit but he doesn’t really strike me as a guy that favors weapons? At least not the few times I’ve fought him. Tyme is a martial artist from what I’ve been able to see and she’s damn good! Quin eventually won after discarding the gunblade and switching to wrestling moves. He made her tap out. Not a lot of blood, but it was an interesting fight to be sure!

The last fight was against Penelope and some guy named Xavier. He was a mountain of a man and I guess he could take a beating to boot. We were helping Erith between that, Eir had left, and people were starting to clear out. Jasper had gotten really quiet and was zoning out so we were growing concerned about him, but he kept insisting he was tired. There wasn’t a fever, but he didn’t look good, either. Erith was insisting he needed a cleansing.

Pen and Xavier’s fight was intense. I started feeling sick when her flame blade started searing into his flesh. The stench made my burn scars itch and I felt nauseated. I wanted to stick it out till the end though, but I was grateful when she switched elements.

I’m not quite sure how he was able to take those blows and keep on going but I know I couldn’t have. Not stoically, anyway. Fire hurts like all the hells. When Discordia hit me with that flamethrower I thought I was going to die, my entire body felt nothing but agony. Even getting cut hurts like a bitch. Pen is an amazing fighter, I like her sword skills and how she can switch elements like that.

She won against that huge guy eventually though, which was something. I couldn’t stay though, it was getting a bit hard to breathe, so I told Leih I was heading out and she gave me a bit of a sympathetic smile as if she understood. I admit, I appreciated it.

Ah~ anyway! There’s another mixer this weekend, along with the show, so much to do! I should write my parents again and hopefully see if they write me back.

[littlepanduh-writes-365]

Day 43

Title: “Nothing”

Description: A study session turns out to be something more.

Features: Michaeng (Twice)

Word Count: 1,159

Tags: Fluff | College AU

It started off as a study session. Chaeyoung and Mina are taking a music history class. They usually sit next to each other, except recently when Mina had been oversleeping the class. She asked to just borrow her notes, but Chaeyoung said she needed to explain some background things considering how many classes Mina missed. Now, they were sitting together in Mina’s apartment. Mina copied notes while Chaeyoung gave an abridged synopsis of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. 

Mina thought the class was boring and thought only the reading was necessary (which is why she thought it was okay to skip lecture), but she really appreciated Chaeyoung’s eccentric storytelling.

“You should consider trying out for theatre. Your delivery is very intriguing.” She smiles and then looks back down to her notebook to copy the notes.

Chaeyoung was taken slightly aback. Was it the compliment or Mina’s smile?

“Thanks,” she simply says. She debates whether she should continue telling the story about Don Juan and Leprello comparing their body counts. Mina seems to still be writing things down and she didn’t want to awkwardly watch her, so she decided to open up a little bit. “I used to do ballet. I didn’t stay long enough to be good at it, but I liked the theatrical aspect to it.”

Mina looks up for a quick second to show her attentiveness. “That’s cool. I used to do ballet for like 10 years before I moved here.” She looks back down to write down more notes. Chaeyoung doesn’t know this, but Mina writes “ballet” in the margin next to “Don Juan was about to cancel Leprello until the Lep. exposed him with receipts.” 

It seemed that Mina was still catching up on taking notes, so Chaeyoung carried the conversation. “Ten years? How do you not get sick of it?”

This time, Mina didn’t look up. She chuckled as she continued writing down things. “When you like something that much, it just sticks with you.”

Chaeyoung crosses her arms and slouches into the chair. “I wonder what that feels like. I used to take art classes and I joined a basketball team, but there was always something that made me dislike it enough to quit.”

Mina was finally done catching up; her pencil was sitting on her notebook, instead of her hand. Chaeyoung should’ve continued Don Juans’ story, but was more interested in getting to know about the girl in front of her. Why did she like ballet so much? Does she still dance? Why is she studying in Korea? Why is she taking this class?

What was supposed to be a one-hour, study session evolved into a 3.5-hour long study date. Chaeyoung managed to catch Mina up from the 3 lectures she missed, but she also learned about Mina’s pet dog and her favorite ride at amusement parks and what she does in her spare time. They made plans to eat Thai food some time while Chaeyoung tells her story about being a k-pop trainee before giving that up and going back to school. 

In the beginning, conversation was just a time-killer, something to fill in the gaps. Now, there weren’t enough gaps. Even though Chaeyoung made Mozart and Don Giovanni’s life sound interesting, Mina wanted to know more about Chaeyoung herself. 

Chaeyoung didn’t expect this. If she were being completely honest, the reason why Chaeyoung agreed to meet with Mina was because her roommate kicked her out for whatever reason. At this point, her roommate was probably done with whatever (or whoever) she was doing. Chaeyoung could probably go back home now. She could be writing that paper that’s due tomorrow night. She could be studying for another class. 

That didn’t stop Chaeyoung when Mina asked if she wanted to play some Mario Kart, one of Mina’s pastimes. Chaeyoung doesn’t really play video games, but there was a sparkle in Mina’s eyes that convinced her to pick up the Switch controller and just go with it. 

Mina was surprisingly very competitive. She was very verbal, shocking Chaeyoung with expletives in Japanese and English. Chaeyoung doesn’t know if it was beginner’s luck or if Mina is going easy on her, but they were neck and neck the entire time. 

This is definitely spontaneous and unconventional. Chaeyoung could tell she was falling. She wants to hear Mina’s excited screams when she wins first place. She wants to hear Mina’s laugh as she gets Chaeyoung with a red shell, bringing her back to first place. She wants to keep seeing that smile on her face.

Chaeyoung was definitely greedy with time. The one-hour study session had now turned into a 5-hour long date. She should really go home. She has things to do. Mina probably has things to do, too.  

“Hey,” Chaeyoung turns to the older woman. They lock eyes and as corny as it sounds, it really does feel like the world around them stopped. “This was really fun.” In retrospect, they lost a rather generous amount of time and both of them were definitely going to make up for it with a lack of sleep. 

It's a nice feeling, how they don’t regret it. 

Mina tries to pretend something in her stomach isn’t bubbling up. She can’t hide the blush on her cheek, though. She smiles and let’s out an accidental giggle. “Yeah, it was.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t understand this feeling of how their bodies seem magnetized to each other, but she knows she really shouldn’t stay any longer. Another round of Mario Kart would result in more screaming and Mina’s neighbors are probably already very upset considering it’s past midnight. 

She doesn’t want to leave, but she knows she has to. It’s okay. There’s always a next time. 

Next time. 

The idea makes her smile. 

Not being able to read her mind yet, Mina takes attention to the spontaneous grin. It makes her heart flutter. Was it because the mystery behind it excited her or because she realizes she likes the younger woman’s smile?

The girl in front of her doesn’t say anything, so she asks, “What?”

Mina catches Chaeyoung’s eyes drop down and her breath hitches. The tension was getting to her.

“What are you doing tomorrow,” Chaeyoung asks?

The older one tries to think of her schedule. It was a Friday. She can’t really remember if she was going to attend Momo’s dance class or grab lunch with Sana. 

She can’t really remember. Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

“Nothing,” she simply replies. (She doesn’t notice this, but she says this in a rather sing-songy tone.)

Chaeyoung chuckles, wondering if Mina forgot they had their music history class and planned on skipping again. Chaeyoung doesn’t mind though. Maybe they’d have another one of these “study sessions” again. Mina feels silly, but she can’t feel embarrassed when Chaeyoung looks at her like that: scrunched eyes, crooked smile, and twinkling eyes. 

“Well,” Chaeyoung looks down and grabs her hand. “Can I do ‘nothing’ with you tomorrow?”

--

Socials: Twitter | Curious Cat

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Home | Victor Von Doom

Pairing: Victor Von Doom x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Request: Can you write something with victor doom? It can be holiday themed or not I don’t care

Summary: your flatmate hates the holidays so he doesn’t celebrate them. You have to go home for said holidays, but maybe home isn’t where you thought it was. Modern AU.

Warnings: slight mentions of fat-shaming, mutual pining, shitty family members, kissing, slight fluff.

A/N: this was fun to write, I don’t think anyone will like it but I enjoyed it.

❆・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆

Victor had rolled his eyes for the hundredth time a certain afternoon. He didn’t see the point of decorating the apartment for Christmas when he wasn’t even Christian and when you wouldn’t spend the holidays there.

He remembered crossing the living room to enter the kitchen, the sound of your humming making him wonder why had he agreed to live with you in the first place. Contrary to everyone’s belief, you two were just friends. He tolerated you the best, though, his spectrum normally went from you being the easiest person to deal with to Reed being an utter pain in the ass, Tony fell in the perfect middle.

He had heard that stupid carol you were humming so often lately that he had it stuck in his head when you weren’t around. In retrospective, it was the least annoying of the carols and he should be thankful that you weren’t obsessed with the same Christmas songs Stark was. Tony’s taste in music sucked in general, but not even Steve could put up with his weird Christmas themed tastes.

Snatching an apple from the basket, he had leaned onto the counter to watch you from afar. Your chubby form stretched to hang ornaments on the tree was amusing, he had offered to pay someone to do it but you told him that wasn’t the point. He didn’t care for the point, or for holidays in general, the only reason he hadn’t fought you on the topic of ornaments around the house was that he was trying to be nicer and he knew he had to start at home.

Home, he had never had one. Not until you two started working at the same company and bonded over your hatred of overly sweet desserts at a work party. None of you were happy with the place you were living in but it was what you could afford at the time, upon touching the subject you had the idea of being flatmates. Victor had been skeptical at first, but the idea became less annoying when you offered to make a list of pros and cons.

Now the apartment didn’t feel like home, the Christmas tree was adorned perfectly— he even admitted it looked pretty. The gifts you bought him were around it, yet he found himself preferring for you to have been there. He would trade all the gifts of the world for you. You, the person who not once had ever judged him or considered him weird.

Flipping on the tv channels, he groaned every time something Christmas themed appeared which was too often. He was starting to regret telling Tony he would be busy or telling you he was sure he didn’t want to go with you to visit your family. Victor switched the cable programming for Netflix and distracted himself by searching for something to watch, not by watching it because he was indecisive.

Taking his phone, he started typing. His thumb hovered over the send button before deciding that there was deciding wrong with what he was saying.

❆・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆

You were listening to your mom complain about everything you hadn’t accomplished in life when your cellphone buzzed in your coat pocket. Withdrawing it, you felt your stomach churn for some reason.

Do you have a recommendation for a NON-CHRISTMAS movie on Netflix?

Just re-watch The Office like any normal human being.

Locking the device, you turned your physical attention back to your mom and dad although your mental one was far away. It was back at home, where Victor was probably sprawled on the couch wearing that soft-looking sweatshirt that made him look so damn approachable with a scowl on his face because he didn’t find anything worth his time on Netflix.

The first time you watched a movie with him had been somehow the best and worst experience of your life, he complained about everything and had stupidly high standards. He did that in general too, but you weren’t too different— however, you loved crappy movies.

Another notification broke through your phone. You found yourself eagerly unlocking it to reply.

Are you calling me average?

You chuckled. The truth was you could call Victor many things, average would never be one.

That’s exactly what I’m calling you.

The three dots signaling he was already typing an answer appeared immediately on your screen, making you miss him even more.

You really missed him, how interesting he was, how respectful of your boundaries. Victor had given you in six months the respect your family hadn’t in your entire life, he was supportive in his own way, he hadn’t once made a crude comment about your weight or judged your body type, he listened to you when you needed him, and if he couldn’t help you he would tell you so openly and honestly

“(y/n), are you listening to me?”

You shook your head at your mom’s question without even thinking.

“You never listen to me, that’s why—“ your mom sighed when your phone dinged again. “Tell whoever is interrupting your quality family time to quit it or I will throw that phone through the window.”

Would Lightning McQueen buy car insurance or life insurance?

You pursed your lips to keep yourself from cackling.

Who are you and what have you done with Victor Von Doom? Also, are you watching Cars?

Perhaps.

You tried to imagine him watching Cars, the annoyed sighs that would leave his lips every few seconds, the smartass comments he would make regarding how the world in the movie functioned... it would be funny, and way better than seeing your family glare at you like you had done something wrong.

You had arrived three days ago and the entire time they had thrown every critique that came to their minds at you. They found the fact that you didn’t have a partner insulting, constantly comparing the lives of other family members to yours; they hated your line of work, they explicitly told you you should lose weight and insinuated you would finally be happy that way.

But you were happy. When you were not around them.

❆・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆ ・・・・・❆

Unceasing knocking woke Victor up, his neck was rigid and his lower back hurt like a bitch. The TV had turned itself off, he didn’t know what time was it and he didn’t care because the knocking was getting louder.

Fixing his hair as he walked toward the door he fiddled with the lock so whoever was knocking would stop. As he swung the entrance open, he couldn’t hide his shock.

“What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head sideways, “I live here?”

He rolled his eyes, moving to the side so you would get inside. You didn’t bother to carry your belongings to your room, not yet. Victor repeated his question.

“I didn’t feel comfortable.”

He hummed, entering the kitchen to put the kettle on. From there, he spoke some more. “So what will you do on Christmas Eve?”

You followed him, leaning on the wall to watch him. His movements usually calmed you in a very weird way. “Annoy you, I think.”

With his hands flat on the counter, he craned his neck to look at you. “How are you going to annoy me? That’s pretty vague.” There was a hint of teasing in his voice, something he reserved for you, he trusted you that much.

You annoyed him with icing cookies and Christmas carols, you made him watch The Grinch and laughed when he agreed with him, you kept the tree lit up the entire day, and you actually made his favorite dish for dinner to not be an asshole. You wanted him to enjoy himself that day too, to find the holidays at least tolerable no matter the type of holiday it was. You knew he never had something similar and it broke your heart.

Putting two glasses of eggnog down onto the coffee table, you sat down on your favorite side of the couch. Victor glared at you, dying to get rid of the ugly sweater you had bought just for him. He had said it was a waste of money, but you saw him hide his laugh.

You were watching Nightmare Before Christmas, Victor insisted it was a Christmas movie and who were you to argue with that? His eyes would shift from the screen to your side profile, catching the twitches on your face when a scene you enjoyed was playing.

There were things he liked too much about you, details he observed in you that he didn’t care for in anyone else. He was unsure about you thinking the same of him, Tony being his helpful self told him a few weeks ago to simply tell you— yet it was far from simple.

He wasn’t being self-deprecating, and he knew he was attractive so he wasn’t scared of rejection because of any type of insecurity and more because you two were flatmates, close friends— was ruining that worth it? Hearing you sing Kidnap The Sandy Claws under your breath, he told himself it was more prone to be worth it.

Victor paused the movie, to hell with subtlety. “Hey!” you complained, glaring at him, “you chose the movie, remember?”

He nodded, “you don’t annoy me, you know?”

“Thanks?” you laughed at the, oh so funnily ironic, annoyance clear in his face. “You don’t annoy me either, Victor.”

He considered the possibility of you playing with him to not acknowledge the meaning of what he had said then immediately discarded it when you continued to gaze at him. “I like you, (y/n).”

“Did Tony pay you to be this emotional or is— oh!” You felt like an idiot for undermining the meaning of his comment at first, it wasn’t until you opened your mouth that you saw the shift in his eyes while waiting to see your reaction.

Oh, wow, now you needed to say something before he thought you were rejecting him. Had you even understood him clearly? Did he mean it as a friend? He had never told you he liked you before! Victor didn’t like people, he either tolerated or despised them— it was one of the things you found so interesting about him.

“When you say like, do you mean it as in ‘I don’t want to kill you in your sleep’ or ‘I would literally kill for you’?“ you half-joked to not embarrass yourself in case he didn’t mean it past something platonic. “Those two are kind of two opposites of the liking spectrum so you should probably consider it, maybe?”

Victor exhaled heavily. “Both, honestly.”

Mouth bobbing open and closed, you fully faced him. “You don’t sound convinced...”

“You’re a little annoying, actually, and doing that thing that everyone finds funny but for some reason I find attractive.”

“Ask a question?”

“Talk too much.” You pursed your lips, nodding. He got closer to you on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. “This is when you tell me you like me back.”

Nodding again, you got closer to him to narrow the space still existing between his and your thighs. “I like you too, and you’re a little annoying too.”

He hummed, the tip of his tongue coming out to lubricate his lips. “I should’ve let you buy that mistletoe, shouldn’t I?”

You giggled, taking him by the neck to place your lips on top of his. Victor reacted quickly, twisting his body to hug you by the middle as the kiss continued. He was so warm, his familiar smell hitting your nostrils as it mixed with the cinnamon-apple air freshener you sprayed earlier actually warming you in the inside. Soft sighs escaped you both, oxygen getting more needed as the seconds passed. You need to breathe properly as much as you wanted to continue kissing him— realizing that, he pulled away enough for you both to catch your breaths.

His hand skimmed the right side of your torso, the other still placed on your back. The way he was looking at you felt more intimate than anything else you had shared with someone before him, maybe because he wasn’t too touchy-feely or maybe because you liked him too much to not appreciate it. He granted you a smile, so charming and so rare, making you smile back. Victor sighed, the warmth of his breath hitting your face, he truly felt home now, peacefully so.

You kissed his nose, one of your hands moving up to play with his soft hair. “Do you still hate the holidays?”

He snorted. Home or not, the holidays weren’t his cup of tea. “Yes.”

[hazellvesque]

Some Kind of Miracle - Chapter 9

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: G

Pairing: Adrien/Marinette

Summary: If Marinette had her way, she would have had nothing to do with Alya’s latest celebrity crush. So how did she get roped into stalking him around Los Angeles? When fashion icon Adrien Agreste quite literally crashes into Marinette’s life, they have no choice but to put up with one another or risk ruining both of their potential careers forever.

An AU based on the iconic Disney Channel Original Movie, Starstruck.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 9 - Searching

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At first, the silence had been a welcome respite from the non-stop hustle of the trip thus far. Marinette had uttered a silent thank you to Gabriel Agreste and his obscene fortune, as it was the main reasoning behind her overwhelming sense of serenity and downright coziness as she burrowed further under the endless expanse of blankets on her expensive hotel room bed.

Until now, she’d never realized just how comfortable a pillow could be. If she ever came into possession of a massive inheritance or managed to marry rich, she decided, her first order of business would be to invest in half a dozen down pillows. With silk pillowcases. The highest thread count she could find.

And to think, some people lived like this every day . All tall ceilings and open floor plans and the most expensive materials making up every inch of their living space, never needing to share with or see anyone, having every possible thing they could want in the world right at their fingertips.

Incredible was one word for it. Intimidating was another. Yet glancing around the massive space with nothing but the sounds of morning rush hour traffic in the distance to distract her, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder how quickly this life would turn from luxury to loneliness. Owning everything you could ever want, but having no one to share it with? No doubt the novelty would turn stale eventually.

Admittedly, as the hours dragged on, the quiet and comfort quickly turned to restlessness and an odd tickling sense in the back of her mind that she should be doing something. Anything besides lying around and letting the day waste away.

At this time of morning, the only shows on television were overacted soap operas and old childrens’ cartoons, which could only be entertaining for so long. Scrolling through other people’s pictures and posts was never very rewarding, and opening her sketchbook only helped to make her realize just how lacking her brain was in the inspiration department. She couldn’t think of a single new idea.

Compared to the past couple of days she’d been having, a single afternoon of relaxation and silence was dull at best, and downright torture at worst. The most productive thing she’d done all day was rummage through Alya’s bag for ibuprofen and wander to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. In retrospect, caffeine probably wasn’t the best for a headache, but the energy was worth the side effects.

All Marinette could think about, honestly, was how much she hoped Alya wasn’t going to completely freak out being in the Agreste mansion. It was all fun and games until her best friend got so excited that she popped a blood vessel or fangirled too hard in front of the wrong snobbish elite.

At least Alya was having more fun than she was.

--

Alya Césaire had never been more stressed in her entire life.

Her nerves were a direct reflection of her mother’s, who was pacing back and forth as she read over her to-do lists. If her incessant circling went on any longer, she might very well leave a permanent rut in the Agreste’s perfectly manicured back lawn.

It seemed neither of them were very good at handling last-minute wrenches in their plans.

Nathalie Sancouer had greeted them as they entered the car outside of their hotel, giving only a brief apology for the last minute addition to Mme. Césaire’s itinerary and ensuring her that she’d receive a substantial pay raise as a result. Putting a face to the mysterious assistant’s name was the first thing that put Alya on edge. The woman had a fierce stare, even as she remained watching straight ahead and hardly spared her backseat passenger a second glance.

The next source of tension came from what Alya thought was an innocent question. Slicing through the thick silence, she dared to ask, “So, do you plan and hire people for all sorts of celebrities like Gabriel Agreste or is this a one time thing?”

Nathalie’s smile - though it seemed more like a knowing smirk - quirked just slightly enough for Alya to see in the rearview mirror. “I am Mr. Agreste’s personal assistant,” she said coolly. “I handle all of his affairs.”

Alya had suddenly felt as motion sick as she did on the plane. She tried her best not to gape at the woman like an idiot. Instead, her shock was directed towards her mother, who sat innocently looking out of the window of the passenger seat as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

Before Alya could open her mouth, Nathalie cut in. “I’ll be adding your name to the non-disclosure agreement your mother signed upon accepting the job. You won’t be telling anyone about the things you do as part of this job. Understood?”

Even if the words seemed harsh, Nathalie still had a hint of amusement lingering on her face. A threat hidden under a smile was enough to send a chill down Alya’s spine.

“Understood,” Alya gulped.

By the time the tables were set up and guests began arriving, Alya had stress-eaten about five cupcakes. Maybe six. But who was counting?

Stand up straight. Smile politely. Don’t let your hands shake too much. She plastered on a cheery demeanor as she passed plates of sugary confectioneries to anyone who approached the table.

Nathalie watched her from the other side of the garden, a small approving smile on her face.

The guest list seemed to be entirely incohesive. Attire ranged from business casual to black tie and everything in between, and there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the conversations happening around her. So far, there was no sign of Adrien or his father.

There were, however, many guests her age. Young people, likely models and musicians and the like. And there in the distance, a familiar spectacled face in the crowd. Alya squinted to get a better look, but that proved unnecessary as the boy and a female companion approached the desserts.

She prayed there were no cupcake crumbs or icing remnants on her chin. She cleared her throat once to get his attention, then again to try and look casual. “It was Nino, right?”

She remembered at the last second that she should speak English, so her vowels were slurred in all the wrong ways, but at least it sounded vaguely understandable.

Nino’s eyebrow raised in recognition. He nodded. “Nightclub girl. Anna, or-?”

“Alya,” she supplied.

“Right,” he tapped his temple with his index finger, as if he were committing the name to memory this time.

Alya’s eyes slid to the blonde girl. If her glossy high golden ponytail weren’t recognizable enough, she made sure to stand out with her insanely high shoes and little black dress. No surprise that she was the best dressed person here by far. ‘ Posh ’ was one of the kinder words that Alya’s blog followers used in their comments about her. “And you’re Chloe Bourgeois.”

“You know who she is?” Nino frowned.

Chloe scoffed. “It’s about time someone did, right?”

“She’s Adrien’s friend,” Alya said too quickly, too matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened as her mind scrambled for a cover. “At least, I assume you both are. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Well, you’re here too,” Chloe looked her up and down. Not disdainfully, but quizzically. “Alone?”

“Chef Césaire is my mom, I’m here to help her set up and serve.”

“Serving? Oh please,” Chloe rolled her eyes, placing her hand on the small of Alya’s back and guiding her away from the table, not bothering to ask if she actually wanted to leave. “These people may have enough cash to get everything handed to them, but they’re not entirely helpless. You shouldn’t have to stand there all night and kiss their asses.”

Alya looked to Nino for help, but he seemed just as confused. He snatched a cupcake from the table before trailing behind them, biting into it as if it were movie theater popcorn to accompany the entertaining scene about to unfold.

“Are you sure Natha- er, Miss Sancouer won’t mind? She seemed pretty serious about this whole thing.”

“Oh, she’ll mind,” Nino smirked, taking another bite. “But you’re not her kid, so she can’t get mad at you for whatever trouble you might get in like she does with Adrien-”

“Except she’s not his mom,” Chloe grumbled, “and she should stop acting like she is.”

Alya nearly flinched noticing the way Chloe’s grip suddenly felt like claws in her back.

Nino continued on, either not noticing the icy shift in tone or choosing to ignore it. “Besides, there’s nothing to do tonight to even get you on her bad side. This whole thing is just another scheme of hers to make Adrien look good. ‘Stand around, eat some food, talk to some guests, don’t say or do anything questionable, be mundane all night so no one can bad mouth you later.’”

The three of them had made it over to the bandstand, where a guitarist had just finished setting up. Chloe sat on a white stool, immediately leaning down to unfasten the buckle on her stiletto heels. She removed her shoes and folded her legs under her, somehow effortlessly poised in her odd seated position. Evidently she was very comfortable here. Nino wasted no time making himself comfortable too, swinging an extra stool around to use as a footrest.

“Is this a normal thing?” Alya asked. “I mean, a band, a caterer, a whole huge crowd of people to entertain. Just for some flashy pictures?

“Welcome to Hollywood,” Nino gestured as the last open seat next to him, urging Alya to relax. “Enjoy your stay while you can.”

As the guitarist plucked out the first few notes of a soft rock song, Chloe leaned over to talk with Alya. How she had perfect posture even when sitting so precariously was a mystery. “Is it your first time at something like this?”

Alya swallowed nervously as she sat down. “How could you tell?”

“You don’t fit in,” Chloe said bluntly. “Trust me, that’s a good thing. You haven’t let any of this stuff go to your head. Don’t let it corrupt you or else you’ll feel obligated to start wearing stuff like this-” she gestured to her discarded shoes, “-to impress people you don’t even know.”

As the song picked up, Alya’s two new companions lapsed into comfortable silence. A few people had wandered over to listen as well, still huddled in their odd exclusive conversation circles.

Chatter and a half a dozen camera flashes in quick succession to Alya’s left caught her attention.

There, coming out of the sliding glass doors of the large house, was the reason Alya’s heart suddenly started palpitating. Adrien had finally arrived, fashionably late to his own party. That, too, was probably calculated down to the minute.

He looked exactly like his pictures, which was probably why her brain hadn’t entirely processed yet that he was indeed a real person, standing less than 10 meters away, totally accessible. Alya took a deep breath as she watched him descend the short steps and properly enter the garden area. Stay calm, she reminded herself for the tenth time that night.

Various partygoers struck up conversation with him immediately as he put on a show for the cameras, smiling and shaking hands all around. Knowing it was all mostly fake left a weird feeling in Alya’s gut.

“There he is,” Chloe looked up, quickly fastening her shoes back on. “I’ll be back,” she said, abandoning her seat.

Nino tipped his head back and sighed. “No you won’t,” he said to no one.

The band’s guitarist strummed out the last notes of their song to polite applause from the small crowd. Alya cast a nervous glance back at the dessert table, but her mother was deep in conversation with other party guests, laughing and even enjoying some of her delicacies for herself. Nathalie stood in her own circle not too far away, not seeming to care in the slightest that Alya had abandoned her post.

Chloe had made her way to Adrien’s side, planting quick bises on both of his cheeks and gesturing for him to come join them near the band. He smiled and gave her a ‘later’ gesture before turning to greet the rest of his guests while Chloe shrugged and dissolved into the crowd.

And then there was Nino, still lounging beside Alya, nodding along to the opening notes of the next song, completely lost in the music. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose. His tie knot was slightly loose, hanging around his neck revealing that the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. Casual. Like he didn’t care at all about the crowd and cameras. He was completely in his element listening to the music.

He was kind of cute, now that she thought about it.

“I’ve never heard this song,” Alya tested the waters.

Nino smiled just a little, his eyes still closed blissfully. “Neither have I. It’s got a nice beat to it though. It’s probably an original, not a cover.”

His foot tapped against the stool to the steady rhythm. His fingertips twitched, as if he were playing an air instrument.

Alya tilted her head. “Is that how you and Adrien met? You’re a musician? What do you play?”

“Musician is one word for it I guess,” his voice was low, allowing the other party goers to enjoy the music. He spoke only loud enough for Alya to listen. “I’ve tried picking up strings and keys but none of that really suits me. I leave the original work to the more talented folks, but finding ways to remix and mashup songs is my favorite. I’m trying to think of a way I can use this bass line.”

His hands continued their odd little dance, moving through the air as if he were placing invisible notes on a floating staff.

Alya was glad his eyes were closed, so he wouldn’t notice her staring.

As often as Nino’s name came up in tabloids alongside Adrien, not much was known about him. No one really knew who he was - and judging by the way he chose to blend in tonight, all casually clothed and careless air, that was probably intentional. All he was known for was being Adrien’s best friend. But clearly there was more to the story.

She waited until the song was over and his hands came to a rest at his side to speak again.

She decided to try a new topic, one that wouldn’t have her gaping like a fish out of water while he went on and on about a hobby she knew nothing about. “So Chloe seems. . . nice.”

“She can be when she wants to,” Nino said, leaning his head closer to whisper, “but to be honest, I was the one who saw you over there stressing yourself out and I figured you could use a break. I guess her getting your attention was her way of being nice to me today.”

“Oh.”

Before she could think of a response, Nino stood and shrugged his head towards the growing crowd at the center of the party. “Come on, let me go introduce you to the man of the hour.”

Alya’s stomach dropped to her toes. Nino led the way through the throngs of people, having no trouble making his way up to the superstar model. It was like the red sea of flashy glitz and glamor parted perfectly to make way for best friend privileges.

Adrien immediately lit up at the sight of Nino. “Dude!” They did that strange boy shoulder-bump handshake-high-five combo.

“Adrien, this is Alya,” Nino turned and waved her forward, politely taking a step back and giving her the floor.

“Um, hi!” She didn’t know if she should shake his hand. She could hardly breathe, now was not the time to be considering social etiquette. Part of her almost wanted to curtsey, but to save herself the embarrassment, she just waved politely. “Alya Césaire. Nice to meet you!”

“So you’re the daughter of the chef. Lucky you, getting to eat amazing food like that every day,” he smiled, and Alya practically melted into a puddle right there.

“Yeah,” she gulped. He was real. And talking to her. He was an actual living human person and she was in his backyard and this was his party and suddenly it felt hotter than it should even for July. “I’m pretty lucky.”

An odd look crossed his face. “I thought Nathalie told me there were two girls working with Mrs. Césaire during her stay?”

“My friend Marinette, she wasn’t feeling well tonight.”

“That’s a shame, you’ll have to tell your friend hello for me.”

If she could remember how to speak after this conversation was over, she would gladly. “Speaking of work, I should probably get back to helping my mom. But, uh, it was nice to meet you Adrien.”

“You too, Alya,” he held his hand out to her, and she steadied her breathing before shaking it briefly, afraid that if she held on any longer than a second she might burst.

She turned on her heel to leave and came face-to-face with Nino. That quickly, she had already forgotten he was standing behind her. And now he was standing incredibly close.

Nino took an awkward step back, chuckling.

“It was nice seeing you again,” he said. “I don’t want to keep your mom waiting, so I’ll tell Chloe to stop bothering you.”

Alya laughed at that. “Yes, well, tell Chloe I said thanks for kidnapping me for a little while. I had fun. And when you figure out how to mix that bass line, you should let me listen.”

Before she could embarrass herself any further, she hurried back to her spot at the dessert table.

For the rest of the night, every time she glanced up and saw Adrien and Nino in the crowd, she had to swallow down the feeling of her heart leaping up into her throat. Actively resisting the urge to stress eat more tiny desserts proved to be a difficult challenge.

And oddly enough, she didn’t think Adrien was entirely the reason why she was so nervous now.

--

The moment Alya left earshot, Adrien’s mouth morphed into a sly smile. He walked quickly, leaving the camera circle and following Nino further out into the mass of partiers.

“So Alya seems nice,” Adrien said. Casual, yet straight to the point. He applauded himself internally.

“No,” said Nino.

So much for that.

Adrien scrambled for a response. “I mean, you think she’s cool, right?”

“What scheme are you about to get me tangled up in next?”

“Just answer the question, please?”

“Yeah, she’s cool,” Nino grumbled under his breath. “I still don’t appreciate you making me her chauffeur the other night, but I can look past that now. Why do you need to know?”

“No reason,” Adrien may as well have been twiddling his thumbs and whistling a jaunty tune under his breath for how hard he was pretending to be aloof. “I just thought it might be nice for her to have someone to hang out with.”

“Right. You mean other than her best friend who she came halfway across the world with. The same girl who you keep sneaking off to talk to.”

“Well, I think Alya likes you.”

“That’s not the point,” Nino deflected, though the look in his eyes seemed to say he wasn’t totally against the idea.

“And if you, my best friend in the entire world, could do me a massive favor and distract Alya tomorrow so that Marinette doesn’t have to worry about getting caught leaving her hotel for a few hours…”

“You want me to entertain Alya so you and Marinette can go on a da-”

“I promised I’d show her around the city,” Adrien insisted. “I kind of owe her a favor, all things considered.”

Nino stood silently, his brows furrowed. Finally, he muttered, “You’ll be owing me a favor too, after all I’ve done for you.”

Adrien clapped Nino on the shoulder. “You’re the best.”

“And you’re the worst,” Nino replied.

--

Just before drifting off, Mariette noticed her phone screen light up.

She had a single notification from the app she had installed the night before. A new message.

A little birdy told me you weren’t feeling well tonight. A shame you had to miss out on the fun. Let me make it up to you tomorrow? Be ready at 9am.

- AA 

[kinetic-elaboration]

The 100 Ask Game

Tagged by @thelittlefanpire --thank you! This looks like fun.

Soooo okay, first, full disclosure: I haven’t watched S5. I stopped watching toward the end of S4 for Reasons. So there might be a little bit of salt and/or confusion in some of my answers. But only a little; this blog is still a positive space and it is, of course, Show Night: a big fandom night regardless of my personal participation.

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from?

Hmm. Well I have farmers and factory workers in my family but I don't know which end of a wrench is up myself. I guess I'd probably be from one of the stations we know nothing about like Hydro or Tesla. It would be cool to be from Mecha but I'm not a mechanical person in the slightest lol.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

Probably theft. I'm not a thief in real life but I do like eating and comfort and I'm p. sure the only way to get anything above subsistence-level rations on the Ark is to do some law-breaking.

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

I'm too much of a rule-follower to do it on my own but I would definitely be a sucker for Bellamy's "take off your wrist band as payment for some delicious puma meat" plan. To heck with this silly piece of metal, I want to eat.

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..)

Some sort of large cat. Or small cat, not picky.

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

If Wells counts as a minor character, then Wells. Otherwise...perhaps M'Benge. He looked like a promising delinquent.

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, Jasper, and Monty. This is partly practical--I do think they're the smartest/most capable members of the group--but also partly about the Narrative. They're my favorites.

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to you?

I guess Trikru based on where I live? Or again, some clan we know nothing about. I don't know anything about Trikru's non-warriors so perhaps I could be one of them.

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

Skipping this one because I don't give my real name or any variants online, sorry.

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

Okay. My general thought on Finn is that he had an appropriately sized role in the narrative--which is more than I can say about a lot of other characters, many of whom, imo, were either killed too early, or too late/not at all when they should have been, or who take up way too much screen time, or are given way too little for their worth. But Finn contributed decently well to the first season--sometimes oddly, in that, once he outlived his usefulness as a love interest, he was shoe-horned into a Peacemaker role that probably should have been Wells's. But at least he was contributing a needed and consistent POV. And while I go back and forth a bit on how realistic I find his season 2 breakdown... I think it is more realistic than not, at least narratively. He seems like the sort who would have a breakdown after a battle, and the short timespan of 2A makes it more likely, not less, to me, that he would spiral quickly into something so atrocious: no time to cool down, to get perspective, to heal. Also, he had a completely unique story, which is also pretty rare on a show that likes to reuse its plot points. (Sorry! It does though.) I can also honestly say that Finn's death and funeral still ranks as one of the most resonant and heartbreaking moments of the series, for me. I have a hard time with any sort of capital punishment story line usually but I really felt for this one and I think it was very well done.

So basically what I'm saying is that I think Finn was decently well used as a character--like B+ narrative role, docked for the random interest in peace and the occasionally annoying nature of his personality. Because he could be annoying. He and Clarke didn't have much chemistry and he and Raven had surprisingly little, too, given how important they allegedly were to each other. And one of the good aspects of his death was that, not only was the event itself well-constructed and moving, but he wasn't exactly missed, by me or by the story, after he was gone. He served his purpose. I'm glad he wasn't on the show longer. (Except for that post speculating on a Finn/Murphy redemption arc/love story, which I would have watched and cheered on for sure.)

I don't hate him, though, and it does annoy me a little that he almost always shows up in fic as the 2d villain, the shitty ex/boyfriend, the annoyance. I mean, I get the appeal of having a readily available character like that (ngl I've used him that way at least once myself) but like.... it's not my fave trope, let's put it that way.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

I've thought about this some, not so much as it pertains to me, but in comparison to some other Failed Utopia plots in other fiction, and because my sleeping beauty au involves Clarke taking the chip, and it was very hard for me to bring her to a place where I felt like she could realistically, and in an in-character way, make that choice. But it's also been a while since I watched S3 and it's difficult for me to remember at what point different aspects of the CoL became obvious to the characters. Certainly, I can see the appeal. I think anyone can. It's an interesting concept and one I actually wished had gotten more time in the show... I think anything that obviously perfect (live forever in a wonderful city, away from pain and death and hardship!) should immediately cause warning bells: what's the catch here? Taking the chip without knowing the answer to that question is an assumption of the risk sort of situation, except you can't predict what the risk is, and the stakes are enormously high. Not exactly smart, and I like to think I am smart. I also have a great fear of AI and VR, which would make me wary.

On the other hand, I'd do poorly in the impoverished landscape of the post-apocalypse, which might make the chip more tempting. Also, if ALIE and friends tortured me or someone I loved, I would take the chip like that. No question, I am weak.

11. What character do you relate to most?

I relate to the intensity of Jasper's feelings, and to Monty's method of shutting down emotionally as a survival mechanism.

Generally I wouldn't say I have much in common with any of the characters, though, and I don't really watch because I 'relate' to anyone, personally.

12. What character do you like the least?

My first instinct is to say I dislike a lot of the characters, which is true but... I also spend almost no time thinking about the ones I dislike. My fandom experience at this point is very much about retreating into the aspects of the show/canon/fanon I like, and ignoring everything else. That said... probably M/di and J/rdan because the whole concept of a Next Generation down from the delinquents offends me, and also because they're both so universally loved that it's quite hard to avoid them. Also b/c J's name corresponding to that of my fave character makes blacklisting really obnoxious lol.

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

Mmm, something comfortable. A nice jacket, like Clarke or Bellamy's S1 jackets, or Jasper's pilot jacket. Nothing with weird patches like Murphy's S1 or Jasper's S3 jackets. A shirt with something interesting written on it like Jasper's Earth Day shirt. Big boots. A nice heirloom necklace. Multiple layers. Knitted wristlets like Clarke has in early S1. A sweater with thumb holes like Monty has in S4.

14. Favorite type of mutant animal?

All the mutants! I really feel like the show missed some good opportunities in the irradiated-animal department. Take some $$$ from the explosion budget, or the Boring Side Character payroll, and invest in some more two-headed beasts. But if I had to pick one, I'd say Lincoln's two-faced horse, because the image of him saving Clarke and Finn in late S1 is so underrated but so iconic.

15. What would your job be on the Ark?

I don't think I have many useful Ark skills. Archivist, perhaps? Member of their proto-justice system? Probably that, though I don't know what sort of jobs, specifically, make up that unit. Though I have some ideas; see: a fic I haven't yet actually written.

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

Gross. But probably if I had to, I'd force myself to.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive then who would have made the best commander?

I gotta tell you, I literally do not care, nor have I have ever cared, about the commander or Grounder leadership in the slightest. They all seem pretty incompetent. They should cede their power to the Sky People, who are marginally less terrible at running things.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

You'd never know from my obsession with alternate states but I have never been high, nor intoxicated in any way, so I really can't say. Hopefully calm and happy like M'Benge in the broom closet. But probably miserable and confused and afraid of my inability to corral my thoughts.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach?

Interesting question. I actually think the Charlotte story line was one of the best of S1, probably the show as a whole, and I kind of wish it had played out more long term, instead of just being, in retrospect, more of an excuse for some drama. I mean that is one of the central dilemmas of a new society, as the dropship camp was starting to be at that time: what do you do with people who break the rules and/or are dangerous? They had roughly three options: execute the wrongdoer (which eliminates the problem pretty efficiently, if brutally); ignore the issue entirely through immediate forgiveness; or apply some punishment in between, like imprisonment. This situation in particular was more complicated because, first, technically, they had 'no rules' at the time (killing is just, uh, obviously wrong), second, the actual perpetrator was a child, and third, she was so obviously unstable as to seem a likely continued threat. And in addition to all THAT, Bellamy and Clarke were such tenuous leaders (Clarke wasn't really a leader at all, so really I should say Bellamy was a tenuous leader) that any option that didn't go along with the will of the majority could cause a complete break in legitimacy. So it's really a delicate scenario. One I can't say I have an answer to.

I will say I think banishment is literally the worst thing they could have done, for either Murphy or Charlotte, if she had lived, and I think the narrative bears this out. It looks like a good compromise but it's cruel and it's dangerous. Cruel because they have to assume the banished person would die in the wilderness, and if you believe he deserves death, shouldn't you just execute him? Have the courage of your convictions? Take on the full moral weight of your decisions? A hanging death is probably less awful than slow starvation or being eaten by a wild animal. And dangerous because if he doesn't die, he's an obvious target for...who's that? Your enemies in the woods? Which is exactly what happened? They brought that whole bio-weapon story line on themselves, tbh. I think it was an in-character decision for a couple of dumbass kids, but that's not the same thing as saying it was smart.

I like to think I would have sided with Bellamy early on, in being careful about what information goes out to the camp as a whole. I mean, it's not perhaps the most moral decision, but it's practical--and certainly inciting a riot, as Clarke ended up doing, is neither practical nor moral, so there's that. If the actual perpetrator had been found before Murphy was caught up in the mess... I guess some sort of middle-ground punishment is the best you can do. Imprisonment, shitty work shifts. Showing consequences for bad actions and trying to keep the group safe. Hopefully if there was enough tact in the beginning of the process, the crowd could be convinced to go along with it. I don't know, though. It's tough.

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone?

Bellamy.

Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy.

Honestly, watch the first season, or even, arguably, the first three, and tell me that ultimately becoming Chancellor wouldn't be a neat, logical, and emotionally satisfying conclusion for Bellamy's arc.

Obviously, it would take him some time to get there. Before then... I don't know. If I had to pick among one of the former Chancellors, I'd go with Abby I suppose.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis?

Oh gosh they're all terrible lol. I guess I'd pick Kane as the least of the three evils. He certainly was in the right once Pike's anti-Grounder agenda went into play, but I don't exactly think he had the ear of the people prior to the election, which is why I'm not enthusiastic. But, still. You gotta get through the Dark Times to get to Chancellor Bellamy, I guess.

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

I'd grab up some interesting books. Possibly a stuffed animal because I like soft things. A nice piece of art.

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

Lol I don't care what universe we're in, I'm never getting a tattoo. Hair: probably something simple and loose. War paint: pass, as I wouldn't be a warrior.

24. Favorite quote?

I suppose Jasper's quote about wounds needing to heal before they become scars.

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning?

I've never read or watched the Hunger Games but I'm nevertheless going to say Raven. She's just been the deus ex machina too many times.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

Least favorite: M/rper

Favorite canon: ummmmm idk not excited by most canon ships tbh. Probably Jasper/Maya, maybe Mackson or Briller.

Favorite non-canon: Jonty

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF DURAN DURAN

Lol, Idk. Something poppy and 80s would amuse me, though. In part because the show needs to take itself at least 75% less seriously.

I don't have any opinions on cameos.

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

Hopefully make friends with Murphy.

29. You're an extra that gets killed off. How do you die?

Something painless and quick?? I don't know. Poison?? Nice dramatic non-bloody death?

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

JASPER. OBVIOUSLY.

...Lol I think this question is really about plausible character flashbacks and if so.... well first off ANY flashback about the Ark is 100% my thing, and flashbacks about almost any delinquent would be great. We're still not in the realm of the plausible, though, imo.

Raven, perhaps? Always want more Raven.

31. A character you’d bang?

Raven. Even though she'd intimidate me a lot.

Monty (as an adult, ofc).

A lot of the characters are bangable tbh. Might be faster to name those I wouldn't...

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?

Uhhhh none of the above??

I suppose the bunker. (This answer is based on the concepts of bunker/space/alone on Earth, not what actually happened in S5.)

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?

Read a lot and make friends. Idk if I'd follow Octavia since I just don't have enough data on the season... but from my understanding of her recent arc, probably not.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits?

???

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with?

I wouldn't last a year in space with such a small group of people but hopefully Raven and I would hook up before I spontaneously expired.

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself?

Definitely less than a year.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do?

Eligius ship? I don't know her.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite?

???

39. Would you Spacewalk?

No. But actually. Probably yes. I'd totally freak out about the idea, swear a million times I'd never do it, then get cajoled into trying by my beautiful girlfriend Raven, and I'd love it so much I'd immediately want to do it again.

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat?

Algae?

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it?

There's no way I'd make it this far in the narrative in real life. I didn't even get there in fictional life.

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes?

I guess the thumb drive thing sounds less disgusting.

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia?

I don't have any siblings (well, no siblings with whom I have a real sibling relationship) so, yeah, sure, why not lol?

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like M/rper?

Leave my body behind on Earth, please, where it belongs.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet?

New planet? I dunno what that means lol.

[heytheredeann]

Midyear Writing Round Up

I was tagged by @frivoloussuits, thank you!

Current word count for the year: Ao3 says 98.272, whereas the various WIPs amount to 97.960 words (196.232 words total, I’m impressed LOL).

Number of stories (including drabbles) posted on AO3: (by “including drabbles” I assumed you meant that I should count drabbles as separate stories, not just one collection) 61. Which is mind-blowing for me because I’ve always been super reluctant when it comes to publishing, because I second-guess what I write like a lot, but I had promised myself that this year I’d try to overcome that by taking prompts (which pretty much forces me to publish what I write) and it worked. *proud noises*

Fandoms I wrote for (2018): Suits, Agents of SHIELD and lately Timeless.

Pairings I have written for (2018): In Suits I’ve written Mike/Harvey and these days I’m very into Harvey/Rachel; in Agents of SHIELD I’ve written a lot of Jemma/Ward, plus some Skye/Ward and Kara/Ward (also a bit of unpublished Jemma/Ward/Kara that might see the light of day, someday); in Timeless I mostly write Lucy/Flynn, plus some Flynn/Wyatt (brotp mostly) and I also have some unpublished Flynn/Rufus in a big AU I’m working on (again, brotp) aaand some Wyatt/Jessica in my WIPs.

Stories with the most kudos/bookmarks/subscriptions (2018): My post popular story by kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions is Everywhere I’m looking now, I’m surrounded by your embrace, which is a Marvey soulmates!AU (unsurprisingly, considering that Marvey is the only super popular pairing that I write for LOL) that got many requests for a sequel that I have no idea when/if I’ll deliver because I have zero Marvey inspiration of late. 

Story I’m most proud of: Aaaah. I always struggle with this question. Okay, I’m gonna pick this obscure Biospecialist ficlet that I wrote back in March for a prompt. I just really enjoyed writing for that verse, both in the ficlet and in the prequel I came up with afterwards, so here, it takes the first spot because I like how it came out (also because I struggled a bit with that prompt, so).

My second proudest story this year: I’m choosing a story per fandom, because I’m suffering while choosing between my babes, okay? Okay.

In Suits I’d say They say home is where your heart is set in stone (Marvey getting-together fic/fix-it), because it’s one of the few properly slash things that I’ve published and I don’t usually write getting-together fics, it was fun and I am rather satisfied by how it came out, in retrospect. 

In Agents of SHIELD I’d say... that it’s a tie between All I want is one more day (it's all I need, one more day with you) and Just to keep you warm (just to bring you home); the first because it’s pretty much a bunch of my favourite things all together LOL (Not So Shitty Grant is technically still married to Jemma, he still loves her and helps out SHIELD from time to time while he does his own thing, Jemma is pissed but not at all over him, Grant is still protective as hell of her, and Coulson is very tired and very resigned), and the second because I love hurt/comfort fics, and I loved writing some aftermath of torture, even if I think I kept it pretty light. 

In Timeless I’d say Playing house in the ruins of us, probably, because as much as I love how Lucy and Flynn’s dynamic has evolved in s2 I am very fond of their weird bond in s1, and I loved writing it.

Also We're young and we're reckless (and we'll take this way too far) is an honorable mention (yes. the title is a Taylor Swift song. don’t judge me.): a small Biospecialist story with a slightly different take on the soulmates thing, and basically the reason why it’s here is that the prompt requested “Biospecialist + Grant is Jemma’s first time” and I had no idea what to do with that, because I don’t write smut. So I am very happy that I managed to come up with something that I like LOL.

What’s ahead: Uh. A lot? Again, I’ll split this in my three (current) main fandoms.

Suits: Probably a bunch of Harvey/Rachel, because that’s what I’ve been working on of late. 

Agents of SHIELD: I have some stuff that I am dwelling on, mostly Jemma/Ward pieces, to nobody’s surprise, in particular one is a Framework AU that’s probably 80% Kara/Ward and one is a Biospecialist fic from an outsider’s POV (because I love that trope). And there’s the giant Jemma And Ward Are On Maveth Together WIP that. someday I’ll have to finish, I guess. Also, I have been working on the Skye/Ward Looking too closely series, but I don’t like how it’s coming out, so. uhm. we’ll see.

Timeless: ..........the prompts that I have yet to fill *insert shame here*. And also a Garcy AU in which Emma tries to erase Flynn, because I’ve been wanting to write one for ages (and I’m probably gonna throw in a Jessica Logan Redemption Arc because I can).

.

I’ll tag @babybrotherdean @shineyma @ilosttrackofthings @optionofpeace @caffeinewitchcraft @twilight-deviant (if you haven’t done it already and if you are up to it, of course!)

[staircasttext]

Ep 07 Transcript: A Lawless, Bloodly Time

Episode 7

PAZ: Hi everyone, welcome back to Stairway to StarClan, a Warriors Cat reread pawdcast. I'm Paz.

JULIAN: I'm Julian.

LIZ: I'm Liz.

PAZ: And joining us today, we have a special guest.

ALIX: Hi, I'm Alix.

PAZ: Very excited to have another Warriors expert, Alix, on the podcast.

ALIX: I'm so happy to be here. This is my favorite podcast.

PAZ: Why, thank you. Yeah, so we're all here today with a guest to do like a wrap up episode on Into the Wild cause I think it would be fun, and love to hear from other former Warriors fans and--

ALIX: I'm a current Warriors fan. Excuse you.

PAZ: Yeah. We're-- I don't know. What's the word for when you get back into something? I don't know. We're in it again.

JULIAN: Returning fans.

ALIX: The lapsed fans. Reformed. Reborn.

PAZ: Mm... no?

ALIX: Born again.

JULIAN: Resurrected.

PAZ: Baptized in the waters of RiverClan.

JULIAN: We've done it again, everyone. Fireheart has become Catholic.

PAZ: No. How does this keep happening? We've only been recording for like, two minutes. God. Okay. Um, yes, this is our Into the Wild recap, retrospective episode. But to start, I think we should, you know, get to hear from Alix, like what your relationship to Warriors is.

ALIX: Yeah, so I read these when I was a kid. Probably from when I was something like eight years old. So I don't actually remember how I got into these books. But they were my first major obsession. And I would, you know, tell anybody who would listen about them. I would draw little family trees. I would play Warrior Cats with my sister in the field near our house. Yeah, I love these books. And I started reading them again because of the podcast. And they're good. They're like, legit good.

LIZ: They are.

PAZ: Yeah, yeah, it's like beyond even just the nostalgia factor. Like I'm very much enjoying these books.

ALIX: Yeah, these were the first thing that ever got me to go on fanfiction.net.

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: Wow.

ALIX: Although I never posted any Warriors fanfiction, I read a lot of it and commented on various, you know, like OC adventures. And I got, you know, a random kit named after my second name, which was fun.

JULIAN: Aw.

PAZ: I also read some Warriors fanfic on fanfic.net. And it was always like, OC. I never read any fanfic, like, featuring just the original characters. I don't know.

ALIX: I don't think I did either.

PAZ: I'll have to look back on.

ALIX: But you know, that's how I kind of got into fanfiction and then I started posting Maximum Ride fanfiction eventually.

JULIAN: A natural transition.

ALIX: Yep. You know, from cats to kids with wings.

PAZ: I also, yeah.

ALIX: And then, you know, I've been in fandom for like 13 years now. And it's how I met all of you guys. So I think it's a good thing that Warriors has done for me.

PAZ: Thank you, Warriors.

ALIX: Thank you Warriors.

LIZ: Warriors, bringing us again together in these dark times.

JULIAN: In this, the darkest hour.

PAZ: In these unprecedented times. Well, I'm very excited to have you on the podcast. But, you know, since you're our guest here, I thought maybe we could quiz you on the book to make sure you're really like up to par for the--

ALIX: To be on the show?

PAZ: Yeah, to be on this show, this very like, well-researched, dedicated show.

ALIX: Well, thank god, you know, I was hoping you wouldn't just let just anyone on the show. Only verified Warrior Cats experts.

PAZ: Yeah, we have to vet you. So luckily there is a quiz on warriorcats.com. An official quiz, How Well Do You Know Into the Wild? So get ready.

ALIX: Do you want me to take it, or do you want me to answer it and then you can put in the answers for me?

PAZ: Yeah, you can answer and we'll read it out.

ALIX: Okay.

PAZ: Okay, you ready?

ALIX: I'm ready. I have my copy of Into the Wild here, but I won't cheat.

PAZ: No cheating. Please, book away.

JULIAN: This is a closed book test.

ALIX: Of course.

PAZ: Who first received the prophecy about fire? A, Bluestar, B, Oakheart, C, Rusty, D, Tigerclaw, or E, Spottedleaf. Oh,

ALIX: I believe it was Spottedleaf?

PAZ: Okay, I think you're right.

ALIX: It's between that and Bluestar. I think they talk about it for sure.

PAZ: Aw, I think you only get to see at the end.

ALIX: Well, okay.

PAZ: We'll see. I think you're right. What was Firepaw's name when he was a kittypet?

ALIX: Okay, quiz.

PAZ: A, Smokey, B, Smudge, C, Henry, D, Rusty, E, Blaze.

ALIX: I'm going to say Rusty.

LIZ: Blaze...

ALIX: God I wish his name was Blaze.

JULIAN: Justice for Henry.

PAZ: Who becomes deputy immediately after Redtail? A, Lionheart, B, Whitestorm, C, Tigerclaw, D, Firepaw, E, Mousefur. That'd be incredible.

LIZ: This baby is my deputy.

ALIX: It is Lionheart.

PAZ: Yes. Okay.

ALIX: I feel like Mousefur only shows up in one scene.

PAZ: Yeah, Mousefur is not really in this book. What happens when Bluestar's patrol passes through the barn on the way back to camp? A, Barley betrays them. B, rats attack them. C, the dogs get loose and attack them. D, they pass through the barn peacefully. E, Firepaw stays with Barley and lives as a loner. That's some AU fanfic.

ALIX: Yeah, that would be a twist. Well, the answer is that rats attack them, and Bluestar loses a life.

PAZ: They sure fucking do.

ALIX: Barley would never betray them.

PAZ: No.

ALIX: This quiz offends me.

PAZ: That's homophobic frankly.

ALIX: Honestly.

PAZ: Who does Ravenpaw claim killed Redtail? A, Oakheart, B, Tigerclaw, C, himself.

[laughter]

D, Bluestar.

LIZ: Tigerclaw wrote this quiz.

PAZ: He did.

ALIX: Is there an E?

PAZ: E, Whitestorm.

ALIX: It is Tigerclaw and I would just want to say, claim? Like what is this, like a news headline?

PAZ: Tigerclaw wrote this quiz.

JULIAN: It's important to show both sides.

PAZ: Snopes.com article. Number six. What are Firepaw and Graypaw's warrior names? A. Aw, there's some good ones here.

ALIX: A, Bananaear and Susanclaw.

PAZ: Firestorm and Graycloud.

ALIX: Ooh.

PAZ: Fireleaf and Graystream, Firedusk and Graycreek, Fireheart and Graystripe, or Firefur and Graytail.

ALIX: Wow. I'm going to say Fireheart and Graystripe but these are all have really powerful energy.

JULIAN: I'm really partial to Firedusk and Graycreek. They have like really chaotic energy.

PAZ: Yeah, Graycreek is hard to pronounce. I just want to say gay. Gaycreek.

ALIX: Gaycreek.

PAZ: Cause with the two R's in there, it's too much.

ALIX: Yeah. It is Gay Creek.

PAZ: Well, Alix, you got six out of six. Well done.

LIZ: Wow.

ALIX: Wow.

PAZ: You can count yourself among the true masters of all things warriors.

ALIX: Wow.

LIZ: If you get a six out of six, I think you just become the new podcast host. Sorry, guys.

ALIX: Yeah, welcome to my podcast, Stairway to Starclan. I have three guests this week.

PAZ: Oh shit.

LIZ: It's an honor to be here.

JULIAN: Alix has pulled a Tigerclaw.

LIZ: That's why. They're a real fan.

ALIX: I'm so glad all my studying paid off. I'm still laughing at that centrist question. I wonder how well I could have answered these questions before I reread the book recently. I feel like I might have gotten tripped up on the prophecy one.

PAZ: Yeah. The official website is so hard because you can't just sort by, like quizzes or anything. Maybe you can. It's tagged quiz, but I don't know how to see tags. I don't know. The website is a mess. It loads like, so slow also.

JULIAN: It's very slick looking. But I feel like they put a lot of effort into the design and not a lot of effort into like, the back end.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: Yeah.

ALIX: Too bad.

PAZ: It's too powerful, too, and not, like--

LIZ: Done?

PAZ: I forgot the gamer term I was gonna-- well-optimized. Yeah, so now that we all know we know Into the Wild very well and by heart, yeah, like, in retrospect, like, what do we want to say about it and like, what-- I don't know, like, what new things did we learn? Like, I guess to the returning fans.

ALIX: I thought I was-- I had this idea in my head that training took like, he started at six moons, and it takes exactly six moons, but I forgot that it's just like, whenever Bluestar decides you're done.

PAZ: Yeah, it is like that.

JULIAN: Yeah, I also remembered training being a lot longer, I think because like, when I was doing roleplay, training was such a big part of it. And it was such like a structured-- because you had to get like a certain number of posts to become a warrior. So there was a lot of just like, Oh, I'm gonna write my training posts. I hope my friend who's already a warrior will pretend to teach me to hunt.

PAZ: I feel like maybe some of the later books spend longer on the training. I feel like there's a lot of like, timeskips off screen during this. Because it was at least a couple of months.

ALIX: I think you guys are saying like, they originally planned this to be one book.

PAZ: Yeah.

ALIX: And you can definitely tell that they were, you know, they're kind of trying to sort of usher Fireheart through the whole, like, warriors process fairly quickly, even if it's six books instead of one.

PAZ: Yeah, cause I don't know, maybe I might be misremembering, but I feel like in the Power of Three, they're apprentices for, like, at least more than one book because they, I mean, they start out as kits.

JULIAN: Yeah, I definitely thought that Fireheart didn't become a warrior until book two. So realizing that he's like a warrior at the end of book one was a surprise to me.

PAZ: Yeah, he feels so small.

JULIAN: He's just a little guy.

ALIX: And justice for Sandpaw and Dustpaw.

PAZ: Oh, my God. I know.

ALIX: Like, sure, they're kind of bullies. But like, that doesn't mean you get to like fail them out of high school.

PAZ: They're super seniors now. You know, yeah. Honestly, though, it seems like a lot of clans it's just like, whatever the leader wants is how the rules work, apparently.

ALIX: Yeah, damn.

PAZ: I don't-- no, the leaders don't get elected either. It's just like, whoever fucking was deputy.

ALIX: Yeah. They get elected by the former leader through nepotism.

PAZ: Through nepotism. Yeah, the society. It's unreal.

JULIAN: Feral cats, I have concerns about your societal structure. I think you should get a parliament going.

ALIX: Truly.

LIZ: And the nepotism that we're presented with is better than the straight up just like monarchy in ShadowClan, right? The options you have here. They're so-- they're grim.

PAZ: Well, I hope ShadowClan gets over that monarchy thing. Get well soon. But I guess what I got out of this book is I like Firepaw more than I did as a kid when I thought he was too boring and didn't continue reading. I think he's endearing as like a dumb little little guy. You know, I have appreciation for like, like, loves their friend shonen protag archetype now.

ALIX: Yeah.

JULIAN: I feel like I came to these books off of Redwall as a kid. And so I was so-- Redwall is full of like, really, really stupid protagonists. So I was primed to appreciate like a little himbo who loves his friends and wants to do what's right and good. Yeah, but I love him. I was worried I wouldn't like him as much the second time around, and I do. He's a sweet little boy.

PAZ: Yeah, yeah, I'm excited to see how reading the first series in which he is the protagonist will color my rereadings of the later books, because when I was reading the series for the first time, he was just like another NPC essentially. And like I vaguely knew, like, what was up with his story, but I think I'll be more emotionally attached to some of the scenes he gets in like later books now.

ALIX: I do think like this, this book reminded me like how extremely appealing they make the whole Warriors way of life. Like it really is something you want to fantasize about being, even though they're like a bunch of like stinky cats in the woods. I still, like as a 23 year old, I'm like, damn, I wish I could get out there and sleep in a bush and walk on a log. You know?

PAZ: Yeah. I remember loving the descriptions of the camp in the later books so much. And it's like yes, I do want to sleep in like a little cave with moss. I do.

ALIX: Every time me and my sister would go camping or something or just, you know, go to some area that had like, that was natural, we would always try to find a cat camp and be like, Okay, this is like where the leader would make announcements. This is where the medicine cat would sleep.

JULIAN: Aw.

LIZ: Aw.

ALIX: It was a very fun activity that I recommend anytime you're in the woods.

LIZ: All right, make a note everybody.

JULIAN: Next time I go on one of my silly little walks.

LIZ: We're gonna get to a Patreon tier, and it's called going to camp in the woods and be cats.

PAZ: We're gonna LARP for money?

LIZ: Yes.

ALIX: #makeCrabClanReal.

PAZ: Okay.

ALIX: I'll pay for it. Listen, I'll sign up.

LIZ: We will set up our own society.

ALIX: And just live there?

LIZ: Yeah.

ALIX: Great.

PAZ: I think we're just reinventing like utopian communes of the 70s.

JULIAN: I was gonna say, yeah.

ALIX: But were they based off a middle grade book? I don't think so.

JULIAN: Patreon tier, Staircast invents a cult.

PAZ: Oh no.

LIZ: Oh god.

ALIX: Liz, I'm so like, curious if there was anything that you thought was going to happen in this book that didn't?

LIZ: I thought that they were going to get Tigerclaw like instantly at the end, and that would be it.

ALIX: Right.

LIZ: They did not. Understandably. I just felt like they would. But um yeah, I know that he's like, going to be around for a while, just given like--

PAZ: Yeah, sorry.

LIZ: --name changes that I've seen.

PAZ: I haven't censored his, uh, yeah. Look away. Cover your ears.

LIZ: Alright, closing my eyes. Someone has to stop the Audacity file for me. Um, yeah, I don't know. I went into this just knowing nothing, except that there would be little guys and I liked it a lot. And yeah, I was-- saying I was surprised that it was so engagingly written sounds condescending. But like, I just didn't expect to be so invested. And it is like, storywise very, like solidly crafted. There's some good plot beats. Course I love the characters because they are just little guys. I do want to just take a nap in some moss even though it's probably real stinky.

ALIX: Here's my question. When do you think they are going to get Tigerclaw? Like in what book out of six? Or like, you know, I don't know, if perhaps he continues on past the first series?

LIZ: I don't know. The way you phrase that made me real suspicious. At the end of the next series?

ALIX: Whoa.

PAZ: Oh.

JULIAN: Ooh.

ALIX: Interesting.

JULIAN: Some real longevity on this guy.

LIZ: Well, I'm putting a real slow, slow game here. Like a slow bet. None of these terms are real, I think. I'm getting safer with the predictions because just right away did not work.

ALIX: Yeah, I mean, that's a good point. Like he could have, really easily been like, villain of the week.

PAZ: Yeah, he could have. Yeah, that's kind of what-- well I guess Brokenstar wasn't really onscreen that much. But he had more of a villain of the week vibe. But I don't know. He's still out there somewhere. The ShadowClan stuff is very off screen, which is kinda funny.

JULIAN: Yeah, I liked it. But I kind of wish there had been more focus on it. I know it's hard to kind of keep two antagonists going.

PAZ: Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: But it felt like it was very, like it was all at the end there.

PAZ: Yeah. I guess I tried to, like, weave it in through Yellowfang. Which was like an interesting choice. It wasn't totally out of the blue, but definitely like it felt like-- you'd like expected it to like-- the climax to like center on Tigerclaw. And then it swerved and it was like actually, ShadowClan's like, fucked up monarchy situation.

ALIX: It's-- okay. I can't say this because of spoilers, but I'm mad about it.

LIZ: Hold on. I'll close my ears. And then you can say it.

PAZ: No.

ALIX: I will not say it. I will say it in our Warrior Cats spoiler chat later.

LIZ: I'll get in there someday.

JULIAN: You will.

PAZ: I think we can let you in there once we finish the Power of Three because that's up to where all of us read.

JULIAN: There's not really-- like, if there's spoilers for later books, it's not because we read them.

PAZ: I've been spoiling myself for later books. I don't care. Just clicking around.

LIZ: Reckless.

PAZ: I mean, I guess a pleasant surprise for me was finding out there's gay cats, canonically.

JULIAN: Yeah, that was really nice.

PAZ: I didn't know that.

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: I mean, even if it's kind of like, wink wink, nudge nudge because the publisher won't let it be explicitly said, I guess, from what I've read, but it made me very happy.

ALIX: Yeah. I think this book has really surprisingly complex characters in at least like Yellowfang and Ravenpaw.

PAZ: Yeah, they're definitely my two favorite characters of this book.

ALIX: The gay ones.

PAZ: Yeah. Love Barley, too. Of course.

LIZ: I did quickly google, are there gay owls in Gahoole, and the answer seems to be no. So Warrior Cats, you've got one thing. You've got several things over that right now.

ALIX: I mean, the cats aren't blacksmiths, which is a disappointment, but I guess, you know, if you're gay don't have time to be blacksmiths.

LIZ: You don't need a blacksmith if you're gay.

PAZ: No, you don't. It's just vibes.

ALIX: Just vibe.

PAZ: I'm excited to get to the other gay character so we can talk about him also.

ALIX: Oh, yes. We need lesbian cats.

PAZ: Yeah. That seems to be lacking. I hope they get on that.

JULIAN: Some wlw representation please.

PAZ: Please. I am excited for the New Prophecy where like the Leafpool and Moth... Wait, who is it? God.

ALIX: Mothwing?

PAZ: Mothwing, Yeah, I know lots of people shipped them, and I think as a child I didn't--

ALIX: You got the vibe?

PAZ: --notice anything so. I want those vibes on that reread.

ALIX: Yeah. Another interesting thing I think is that, um, I think it becomes very explicit later that StarClan is real and tangible. But like, I was surprised that in this book, like, I mean, there's like the whole like, Moonstone prophecy thing, but like StarClan seems much less like, there, if that makes sense.

PAZ: Yeah, like, as Julian noted in the first episode, I feel like it gets more magical, like with each passing series.

JULIAN: Yeah. My memory of like, the first episode, or the first series is very much like StarClan is there but like, as a religious force, and not as like an actual entity with power in the world.

PAZ: Yeah, yeah. I mean, even in this book, it can be kind of ambiguous because like, with, like the Bluestar nine lives things, it could reasonably be read like she just got injured really bad.

ALIX: She's just cool and strong.

PAZ: But yeah, StarClan gets real involved later.

JULIAN: Her nine girlboss lives.

ALIX: All girlbosses have nine lives.

LIZ: The StarClan thing is surprising to hear about as to what happens later on because, like, for me going in, it seems to be just like placement as religion I guess. It's like the system of spirituality for me. That's the impression that I got from this book. So seeing that it's-- I'm assuming like, actual StarClan cats are gonna show up. That's like, very interesting.

ALIX: I mean, even I haven't kind of gotten to where it becomes way more of a plot point, I think.

PAZ: From what I've read of spoilers of the later seasons, it really just escalates. Which is very funny. But I guess they also like, built in a system in which to have characters come back, if you just have this like dead cat group hanging around.

ALIX: Like Spottedleaf, who dies so fast.

PAZ: Oh, my god, that was another thing.

LIZ: I mean, it was very sudden. I also didn't expect that.

ALIX: People kinda die left and right in this book.

PAZ: Yeah, that's so true.

JULIAN: Yeah, that's one thing I didn't remember is like, I remembered them being like, very, you know, battle-focused and whatever. But I did not remember how easily characters die, and how many characters die, and like how violent they are. Which I think is partly like, as a kid you don't really conceive of violence as like a real thing as much. And then, like, you're reading about these cats, like tearing each other's throats out as an adult. It's like, Oh, geez.

PAZ: Yeah, and this book was not even, like, nowhere near that levels of violence that show up later.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah. No.

ALIX: But they just like introduce and kill characters so fast and this and I feel like that doesn't really continue.

PAZ: Yeah, that might be like a byproduct of them thinking this would be the only series or even like, initially one book. Cause I think even after this expanded into a series, they thought it'd just be like one standalone series. They didn't think it would keep going. So they're probably like, way less precious with characters.

ALIX: Goodbye, Lionheart. Goodbye, Spottedleaf.

JULIAN: Pour one out.

ALIX: Do we feel-- I forget if you guys talked about like whether or not Spottedleaf is like fridged wife trope.

PAZ: No, we didn't. Partially because like in this book, it really doesn't-- I mean, it doesn't feel like a romance. And I don't think it should. It feels very much like baby's first crush on like older person who is not getting involved in any way.

ALIX: Gives him herbs.

PAZ: Gives him herbs. Yeah, classic trope.

LIZ: Yeah, it feels like, when she actually dies, it's like a kind of a growing up moment, almost like, oh, something got real. And this person who I just had like a regular crush on, got caught in the crossfire. Not that cats have guns.

ALIX: God, I hope not.

PAZ: It doesn't linger on it very long. Although from what I know of Fire and Ice, I think it revisits that plot point. But yeah, in this book, it felt very like unimportant, in a way.

ALIX: He doesn't spend a lot of time going, oh no, but if Spottedleaf had lived, then we would have been mates. He's just like, this is sad.

PAZ: No, yeah. Which is fine. Because she was definitely like, presented as an older figure. I don't know.

JULIAN: Yeah. I think we get more into, like, how he feels about that in the later books, where he does some processing. He also hasn't had any time to really have any feelings. Not that I think of him as like a real emotional cat. But, you know, it's been-- he's had a busy couple days.

ALIX: He hasn't had time to tell Bluestar.

LIZ: Oh no.

PAZ: I was gonna say, there's not much like internal self reflection, or like thoughts in this book. And yeah, there's no thoughts going on in that head at all. Also, just like, I don't need to tell Bluestar.

ALIX: He is no thoughts head empty.

PAZ: I mean, that's like one of the ways you can like-- if you've read other books, you can kind of like feel how this is like the first book because I do feel like, in some way the characters have less like, complex inner lives, in a way where like, personal drama and angst becomes very central in later books.

ALIX: Yeah, if this were a later cat, I feel like he would be way sadder than he is at any point in this book.

PAZ: Yeah. For sure.

ALIX: He's just happy to be here.

JULIAN: He's just vibing.

PAZ: He really loves being a little wildcat. He loves that he kept his balls.

JULIAN: Okay, yeah, no, that's the main thing that I don't remember from when I was a child.

PAZ: Oh god, yeah.

JULIAN: Revisiting these is like, Oh, yeah, okay, there's a lot of focus on whether cats are intact or not.

ALIX: You said intact like as if they were a virgin.

JULIAN: That's what they call it with like horses. Where it's like--

LIZ: Do they? Oh my god.

JULIAN: Yeah, where it's like an intact stallion.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: Ugh, that's weird.

JULIAN: I know, it's really awful.

ALIX: I never was into horses. So.

PAZ: I was, but not-- I didn't care about that stuff.

LIZ: I also was, but I didn't know anything about them, and I kept not knowing anything about them the whole time I was interested in them. I read Black Beauty and like, the book said that he was like a gelding and I was like, what's that? I'm not gonna pay attention.

ALIX: I read a lot of different horse books.

LIZ: Must be a different horse.

ALIX: And they'd be like, oh, this is a gelding. And I'm like, is that a type of horse? Cool. Smiley face. Let's move on.

JULIAN: I had a lot of friends who actually rode and like, either owned horses or like, lived on working farms.

PAZ: Yeah, my aunt owned horses, but I don't know. I wasn't that involved. She didn't like teach me horse facts or anything. I just got to ride on a horse sometimes.

LIZ: We really are just like, wow, cool horse.

PAZ: Yeah, the ball focus is so funny. And it really truly is the basis of the entire series.

ALIX: Yeah. I cannot wait for you guys to get to a specific point in the next book which relates to this.

PAZ: Oh boy.

JULIAN: I feel like the reproductive politics of these books are very interesting. And I'm like--

ALIX: They are.

JULIAN: --interested or like, excited to like, talk more about their whole situation.

PAZ: Yeah. Yeah, there's a lot of points that I am, like, I guess excited or, like, look forward to talking more about or like, like, being able to do that. Also like ableism in Warrior Cats is a topic I know I want to be able to address later like, once that comes up, cause that's a big issue. But also like--

ALIX: Good news. Comes up very fast.

PAZ: Whoo. Oh boy.

JULIAN: Yay.

PAZ: But yeah, also just like to continue to look into the, like, gender, family, reproductive politics going on here.

ALIX: At least it isn't fully like a you got to be married with kids type thing. I feel like it's more than anything emphasizing letting people make their own choices.

PAZ: Yeah, for sure.

JULIAN: Yeah. Like, there are a lot of like, female cats who are like, medicine cat or warriors or whatever.

PAZ: Yeah. It is very funny though, that one of your roles in society is just pregnant.

ALIX: I was thinking about this. I was like, I know that there's some queens who just like stay in the nursery to help out the other queens, even if they don't have kits at the time. And I was like, do they let male cats do that? Because I feel like they should.

PAZ: They should. I mean, I guess in that way, there is an aspect of communal parenting, like it's not as focused on nuclear families, which is nice to see.

JULIAN: Everybody cares for the kits.

ALIX: Yeah, it's really not at all, because like, I think they retconned a lot of people into being siblings and related. But I think the whole point of the first book is like, you know, find your chosen family. And people care a lot more about their mentors than their parents.

JULIAN: Yeah, like people's parents-- at least in the first book-- kind of don't matter.

PAZ: Yeah, they're non-existent.

ALIX: It's also the like, middle grade thing of like, we want to make young characters but then just get parents out of the way so they're an orphan or they're a cat. The two genders, orphan or cat.

LIZ: Oh since we like mentioned medicine cats as a status? Role? Whatever, just now. I want to say like, I wasn't surprised that there was only one because that tends to be a thing, but I think that they should have more than one doctor for their whole society. Seems like a-- they're taking some risks here.

PAZ: Yeah, as a kid I did not question that. I never had one thought of like why aren't there more doctors?

ALIX: I feel like there should be like five, right?

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah. Like your whole society is based around fighting other cats.

ALIX: Mm-hmm.

JULIAN: You need to have more healers.

PAZ: So weird.

JULIAN: Your party's wildly unbalanced.

LIZ: Everyone is DPS but Spottedleaf.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah, I didn't think about that till you brought it up, Liz. But that is an important point. It's also like the medicine cats are like both doctors and like spiritual leaders. Um, which is like, you know, not that uncommon, I think.

PAZ: Yeah, I think I saw an interview or something somewhere where they mentioned medicine women and like, that, like that kind of trope tying into like medicine cats. Yeah, but you can see that I guess. I mean, as like with the problems with that trope and stuff, but yeah.

ALIX: But there still should be like five.

PAZ: There still should be, yes.

LIZ: Did Spottedleaf even have an apprentice?

PAZ: No.

ALIX: No.

LIZ: Cause she was kind of young, right? So like hey, your society already has a problem with dying young, so I don't know. I think some more thought should go into this.

PAZ: I don't know what they were planning to do if Yellowfang hadn't happened to be there.

ALIX: I feel like-- yeah. No, this is from fanfiction. But maybe it comes up later, but like I was reading a fic where again, like the medicine cat dies and there's no apprentice, and like, they just like wait for like a sign from StarClan as to like which warrior now becomes the medicine cat.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: But I feel like you would miss out on so many... like so much knowledge. What are you going to do, go ask another medicine cat like, which herb does what? Just rely on dreams? What's going on?

LIZ: Well, can you imagine sharing vital medical knowledge from other cats with other cats?

JULIAN: Well, and they can't write anything down. It's all oral tradition. So like, if you don't have that continuity of oral tradition, everything is lost.

LIZ: God.

PAZ: Right?

ALIX: I guess they don't lose anything because they're around forever in heaven. But also, do you just get trained at night by a dead medicine cat in your dreams?

PAZ: Oh god.

LIZ: You get like a dream DM and it's just like, the ghost of Spottedleaf being like, Hey, wake up.

JULIAN: You up?

ALIX: I'm just thinking of that one meme where somebody is spraying somebody with fire to wake them up. Hey, wake up. Fire will save the clan.

JULIAN: I feel like, you know, even if you can have your ghost mentor, there's some stuff it's helpful to have a hands on demonstration of, or pawson.

ALIX: Yeah. How do you know the technique for fucking biting tit. Ticks.

[laughter]

JULIAN: Yeah?

ALIX: But also, wait, hold on. Like why if they all remember everything, have they not made great strides in medical advancement?

PAZ: I don't know.

JULIAN: Because they don't have opposable thumbs.

PAZ: Yeah, that limits them in a lot of ways.

ALIX: I guess.

LIZ: They technically know everything, but their memory is really bad because they're cats. So it's all there.

ALIX: Right?

LIZ: But it's passive.

JULIAN: Okay, real question. Why hasn't StarClan told Bluestar to stay the fuck away from Tigerclaw?

PAZ: Right? StarClan has a problem being--

LIZ: They're really bored. They're just like, oh no, I want to see this play out.

PAZ: Yeah, what else do they have to do?

ALIX: They gotta watch the drama.

JULIAN: There's some sort of StarClan Prime Directive, where they can't interfere too much.

PAZ: There probably is. I don't know.

ALIX: Also, it's not clear how much of the future they actually know.

JULIAN: I mean, not even the future, just the present.

ALIX: I don't think they can read Tigerclaw's mind.

JULIAN: But they can see he killed Redtail.

PAZ: StarClan says I pretend I do not see it.

LIZ: No, there's someone in StarClan just being like, you know, I never liked Redtail.

PAZ: Meanwhile, Redtail's right there.

ALIX: Yeah, why doesn't Redtail's ghost show up and solve his murder? Hold on.

PAZ: Right? Oh my god.

JULIAN: The real Hamlet.

ALIX: Yeah!

PAZ: Yeah, Redtail should have been like, I don't know, haunting Ravenpaw and I don't know. That'd be a cool different book.

ALIX: There has to be a whole reason why they can't just say things because otherwise there would just never be any mysteries.

PAZ: Yeah, that probably gets addressed later, I assume.

ALIX: Redtail showing up like, hey, uh.

PAZ: Alix, I'm just thinking of that fic you linked where Redtail and Tigerclaw were exes.

LIZ: [gasps] Oh my god. Oh it makes sense.

ALIX: I wanted to bring this up because it was such a fucking powerful concept to me.

PAZ: I know, I love it.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: I love some murder exes.

PAZ: Right?

ALIX: Because it was basically being used as cover for him. Like he was like-- you know, even if you report the murder that I do, they won't think it's because I want power. They'll think it's because I'm jealous.

LIZ: Oh my god.

ALIX: He's like trying to come up with like fuckin like different like defenses in Warriors court.

LIZ: They should have Warriors court. They should have other professions.

ALIX: Where's the lawyer cats?

LIZ: Of course Tigerclaw would be gay and homophobic.

ALIX: I think that's exactly what Paz said.

PAZ: Yeah, I think I did. But yeah, that's his vibe. He also like goes to the gym a lot.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: God, he's a fucking gym rat.

PAZ: He is.

ALIX: Oh my god. Tigerclaw's Grindr.

JULIAN: He posts his like abs down picture on Grindr and is like stealth.

ALIX: I liked that fic though because it was just like everybody was like, You didn't know that? It wasn't like a torrid secret. It was just like Tigerclaw is bi and has a fraught ex, and I'm like, honestly, this is great.

JULIAN: Firepaw walks into this incredible queer drama just like, (high-pitched) what's up?

LIZ: What's going on?

ALIX: Oh, you didn't know?

JULIAN: Out here in the forest cats are gay.

ALIX: That fic is just so galaxy brained.

PAZ: Yeah, that was a humongous take.

LIZ: Imagine Graypaw expositing all of this in like his usual fashion, but it's just everyone's list of previous breakups.

JULIAN: Okay, so Whitestorm and Lionheart have some beef because they used to date until...

PAZ: God.

ALIX: This is incredible.

JULIAN: And like they're mostly fine, but they shouldn't like sit next to each other.

LIZ: Firepaw voice, what's dating?

ALIX: I'm six months old.

LIZ: I didn't know what hunting was called.

PAZ: Oh, boy.

LIZ: I just got here. I love the dirt. Hi, I'm Firepaw.

PAZ: Wow, what an accurate impression.

JULIAN: I'm sure this has been written where-- because I've seen a lot of like AUs on AO3 where they're all human. Um, and I'm sure that someone has written-- or I hope that someone has written the AU where the clans are just like different queer student groups on campus, and Firepaw is like the baby freshman who's just discovered like queerness as a concept.

PAZ: People definitely write high school AUs and I'm too scared to click to find out if they're still cats or humans.

LIZ: I hope they're just cats but they go to cat school and they take cat studies, like meowthematics, and... That's the only one I have.

PAZ: Oh perfect.

ALIX: I hope it's like the My Little Pony movie where there's an alternate universe where they're all humans, but then sometimes they can Magical Girl turn into ponies.

PAZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: That's so good.

LIZ: I'm just picturing that going like Animorphs, like the covers. Human boy to little guy.

JULIAN: Shoop.

ALIX: I keep realizing I'm imagining like human Fireheart as KJ Apa from Riverdale.

PAZ: Is that the main guy? I don't--

ALIX: Yeah, it's Archie.

JULIAN: It's just the guy who plays Archie.

ALIX: I'm just like who's like a redhead and plays a himbo?

PAZ: A dumb jock.

ALIX: Although Archie's not nice enough to be a himbo. Anyways.

LIZ: You know, these cats are British. Do you think if we go back far enough in like the Wayback Machine, we're gonna see like, here's my fancast for human Firepaw. It's Rupert Grint.

ALIX: Yes. Yes.

PAZ: Absolutely.

JULIAN: Honestly, it's probably somewhere on Tumblr, like if I do some digging. I'll report back.

PAZ: You probably wouldn't even have to look that hard.

ALIX: That fully exists.

LIZ: Here's my fancast for older Firepaw, so I guess Fireheart, and it's Ed Sheeran.

PAZ: [groaning]

LIZ: [laughter]

JULIAN: Noooo.

LIZ: I couldn't think of that many red-headed dudes. And that was the only one I got.

PAZ: Oh, I'm picturing Ed Sheeran in my head right now. It's so scary. I don't want to.

LIZ: It's a scary image.

ALIX: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Do we want to, as a palate cleanser, move on to the questions?

PAZ: Yes, sure. So, you know, end of book wrap up, I figured we could also do some more questions, and we have gotten some. So we're gonna dive into those. And let's do the first one.

JULIAN: Um, I can read it out. It's less of a question and more of a--

PAZ: Yeah, anecdote.

JULIAN: --reminiscence, which I also love. "Hello Staircast, when I was an elementary schooler in 2009, there was a big community of Warrior Cats roleplayers on MIT Scratch for some reason, despite it being a platform for a block-based programming language designed to teach intro computer science, like people would roleplay in the comments. Anyway, I have brought these vintage cat OCS I submitted to coloring contests." We have Rainkit, "a small hyper kit who likes to run around and jump on things. She wants to be the best hunter ever." Rainkit is a gray kit with a little blue heart mark around one of her eyes. And she's saying hi.

PAZ: Beautiful-- it looks like a photo of the Grand Canyon?

JULIAN: I think it's the Grand Canyon.

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: In the background. I love that setting.

ALIX: Cat is not wearing pants.

PAZ: No.

JULIAN: No. And then the other submission is Chaosfox. Oh, it's--

PAZ: Oh wait, music. Oh my god. It's so loud. How do I make it stop?

ALIX: I had to mute the site.

PAZ: Oh my god.

ALIX: This is so powerful.

JULIAN: "Chaosfox lives alone in a secluded area of the forest. She used to belong to a clan known as BoneClan but was turned out when it was discovered she had killed another cat. It was an accident."

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: "But she was framed by her brother Longclaw. She avoids other cats and will likely attack you if you come near her. She's very thin because prey is scarce where she lives. She'd never reveal it, but she is lonely."

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: Oh my god.

ALIX: Oh my god.

PAZ: What is this song?

LIZ: I don't know. I'm afraid to turn it back on. It's very loud.

ALIX: It's so loud.

JULIAN: And then when you click on the little play to get this animation going, Chaosfox is like rainbow, like has little shards of rainbow color that make up her body. It's really good. It's really incredible.

LIZ: It's animated.

PAZ: I feel like I can see her bone tail, like?

ALIX: Oh, yeah. It's powerful.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah.

LIZ: The colors are oscillating. It's very beautiful. I have so much respect for this artist.

ALIX: I feel like-- like the audacity of BoneClan for kicking someone out for doing murder.

PAZ: Right?

ALIX: You're called BoneClan.

JULIAN: Oh, thank you for sending that in, Ruby.

PAZ: Thank you. These are beautiful. If you remember what this song is called, I guess, @ us.

LIZ: Yeah, we'd love to know and then we'd love to just make that our new theme song forever. Same volume.

JULIAN: No slow ramp.

PAZ: Okay, I have to close that tab.

ALIX: That's incredible. I love that so much.

PAZ: And that was from Ruby. Thank you, Ruby.

LIZ: Thank you so much.

ALIX: I can read one if you want.

PAZ: Okay.

ALIX: "Dear esteemed cat scholars, in the last episode, you mentioned how cats should broaden their horizons and establish more roles and jobs for cats and their societies. My question is, could, should, and would cats unionize?" And that's from Maayan.

JULIAN: Oh my god.

PAZ: I think they should unionize.

ALIX: They should.

JULIAN: Right, everyone should unionize.

PAZ: I don't know if they would.

ALIX: Maybe.

JULIAN: They seem to be very attached to a hierarchical structure right now. So I think they would need to do some like-- you'd have to do some real consciousness building.

PAZ: Some workshops.

JULIAN: Among the cats to like encourage them to think as a group. They do think about the wellbeing of the clan, but like, you would have to frame it so that they could see that, like, when warriors have better working conditions, everyone benefits.

ALIX: I mean, to be fair, leaders aren't like bosses because they actually do like hunt and fight. Like they do work. So it's not 100% like they're exploiting the labor of the other cats. But I still think collective bargaining would be good for them.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: I think the apprentices should unionize.

ALIX: Yeah, yes, yes, yes, their labor is exploited, I would say.

PAZ: For sure.

LIZ: They should unionize so they get like, you know, some safety protocols, like not being sent to snake hell while you're an intern by your evil mentor.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think they should unionize and fight for a better mentor selection.

LIZ: Yeah.

ALIX: Literally.

PAZ: Have some say in that process.

LIZ: There should be a review board, right? Like some sort of approval process.

ALIX: Like any accountability.

LIZ: Uh-huh.

PAZ: Ratemymentor.com. Tigerclaw has an F.

JULIAN: But he does have a chili pepper.

ALIX: According to Redtail, at least.

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: What's Ravenpaw's review? Just like, 0/10, tried to kill me.

ALIX: I got stabbed here.

PAZ: Would not come back.

ALIX: Good sandwiches, would come back.

LIZ: Also, just lectures. Does not teach.

PAZ: Well, I guess that's our answer. They should unionize--

ALIX: But they won't.

PAZ: The apprentices especially, but they won't. Who wants to read this next one?

LIZ: I'll read it. This is from-- I don't know who it's from.

PAZ: Oh, whoops.

LIZ: There's no-- is it signed?

PAZ: Let me go look in the email.

ALIX: This is a dream from StarClan.

JULIAN: It's from Nat.

LIZ: Okay. So this question's from Nat. The header is The Proboards Experience. "Hi Staircast cast, loving the show. I know it's been mentioned, so I'm sure you would have got around to answering this question from me eventually. But do y'all remember the Proboards RP golden age? I cannot count the amount of Proboards I created or joined, many of them for Warriors. And most of them seeing participation for an average of four weeks, after which they died forever."

PAZ: Yep.

LIZ: "I'd love to hear if any of you were part of the scene. And if you have any strong emotion--" sorry-- "any strong memories. Here's the only one I remember. At some point, I knew the creator of it. Now I don't have any recollection of how." And there's a link to the Proboards. "Look at all the work that went into the architecture of this thing, only for a small group of internet kids to never use it due to moderating and advertising being hard." Aww. "I've also attached some fantastic 2009 fanart of it, which I found recently and unlocked my memory of that particular forum. Thanks again for letting me re-experience these books in your podcast." And attached is just a stunning, beautiful piece of art that I wish I could blow it up on the screen and show everybody.

PAZ: Yes, so it has the name of the forums on it, which is Moonlight Dreams. And "Dreams" is in beautiful rainbow font, very atmospheric. And it looks like there's five cats in a cave around Moonpool, maybe? I don't know. Yeah, three of them look very astonished. One of them looks really angry. There's a story going on here.

LIZ: There's a little kind of orangey brown cat on the far right with one black paw, and I think that's just-- mwah. That's adorable.

PAZ: That's character design, baby.

ALIX: Oh my gosh.

JULIAN: I mean, like I obviously have a lot of memories of the Proboards Golden Age. Um, my best friend in elementary school's older sister set up a forum for us to RP, starclan13.proboards.com. And it was a weird mix of like our friends, and then the older sister's group of friends, who were about three years older, and then at some point I got my little brother, who at the time was like six, and all his friends into it. So we ended up, because obviously at the time you needed to be 13 to create an account anywhere that you could post, because of child safety laws. And my parents knew about this law. And so I was like, well no, it's different. Proboards is different somehow. I managed to convince them that it was okay for us all to be doing that. And it was because we knew almost everyone who was on the board.

But I spent-- I had 45 minutes on the computer per day and I spent every one of those 45 minutes RPing as my OC Pinestripe. I didn't realize that like most Proboards apparently weren't very active because ours was incredibly active, maybe because we all knew each other in real life and could yell at each other to get online. But like now that I'm looking-- I like pulled it up, and I'm looking at it, and there's a total of 45,000 posts on this website.

PAZ: Jeez.

LIZ: Oh my god.

ALIX: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Yeah, part of this is after we stopped or I stopped RPing as actively, there was kind of a second wave in like 2010 of people that we did not know in real life, who I guess found the site. We had done some like cross advertising on different RP forums. And I guess they found it via that and kind of took over and were super active. So I was not around for all 45,000 of those posts.

PAZ: That's wild.

JULIAN: But it was very active. We had a total of like 300 members total.

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: Of like very elaborate plot.

LIZ: Amazing.

PAZ: Yeah, just for comparison, the Proboards that our listener linked has a total post count of 125.

LIZ: Aw.

ALIX: There's also-- 50 of these posts are in the Advertising Other Sites.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Oh no.

PAZ: Yeah, I was definitely on Proboards, but not for Warriors Cats ever, I don't think. That was mostly confined to Neopets for me. I think-- so I was in a guild on Neopets that did Invader Zim role play. And we eventually moved to Proboards.

ALIX: Incredible.

PAZ: So that's what I was roleplaying on Proboards.

LIZ: I didn't know that about you, not the Invader Zim part.

PAZ: I don't like to talk about it.

LIZ: Cause you--

ALIX: Yeah, I never-- oh sorry, go ahead.

LIZ: Oh, no, you go first. I'll wait for after because it's very important.

ALIX: I was just gonna say I was never on Proboards. I RPed Warrior Cats on Gaia Online.

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: I knew a lot of people who did Maximum Ride there. But yeah, I don't know. It was um, I was like a site admin for a while, which was really neat, because I got to learn how to do some HTML and CSS.

PAZ: Hell yeah.

JULIAN: You know, I moved from doing my Neopets shop to-- unfortunately, you can't see the site as it used to look because a lot of the-- we used to have like a really big top banner, and, like special graphics for everything, and custom emoticons. And a lot of those were all hosted on Photobucket.

[chorus of aws]

JULIAN: Along with almost everyone's RP signatures, so unfortunately, many of those are gone.

PAZ: Tragic.

ALIX: Wow.

LIZ: Lost history. Like that genuinely makes me sad.

JULIAN: I am gonna see if the Wayback Machine ever archived this.

PAZ: Yeah, that'd be good.

LIZ: It was a pretty big one, it might have. Yeah, I guess I never like did any Proboard stuff, and I stopped using Neopets after my friend at the time tried to teach me how to bank on it. I was like, well, I can't do this. Yeah, so it's interesting to hear like, everyone's different, like, experiences with it, because I just like-- it just passed me by.

I do want to look at the Proboards that was linked in the question because there's some interesting little descriptions here for like-- there's a folder called Calm River. And it says, "this is a small part of the river that is very calm. It is good for catching fish and wonderful for swimming if you have some free time. On the sandy banks is where warriors like teaching their apprentices battle moves." And it's all very sweet.

ALIX: Yeah, it's so empty though.

JULIAN: Oh, great news. It is on the Wayback Machine.

PAZ: Oh perfect.

LIZ: Yay.

JULIAN: And you can see many of the images, although not the big header.

PAZ: Perfect.

LIZ: There's gotta be someone with that saved on like some external hard drive.

JULIAN: Our affiliate link is like a little cat running across the-- there's a lot of gifs.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: It is all in Papyrus font.

LIZ: Of course.

JULIAN: Great news for everyone.

LIZ: Listen, Papyrus is where it was at. I definitely used it for just like school reports, as a middle schooler, because who's gonna stop you?

ALIX: I remember doing it as well.

PAZ: Yeah. Well, Julian, I'd be interested to see if you could find any posts of yours in the Wayback Machine.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah.

PAZ: But that'd be like--

JULIAN: I think that's probably--

PAZ: A project for the future.

JULIAN: A project because it'll take me a little bit to navigate this. But yes, I'll try to see if I can find my death post when I killed off my character.

LIZ: Oh my god.

ALIX: Oh my god.

PAZ: Oh please.

JULIAN: Cause it was very dramatic.

LIZ: Um, can we just read a few of the names on your old site?

JULIAN: Oh, yeah.

ALIX: Oh my god, sorry.

LIZ: Because they're really good. Just in the current cat section, just to pick a few out, there's Vengeancestone, Diamondpaw, Pookystar, Saberkit, Rainbowkit, and separately, Rippedkit and Ripplekit.

JULIAN: Oh, great news. I forgot that in WindClan, we do have a Suepaw. So Susan, Susanclaw.

PAZ: Wow.

ALIX: Wow.

LIZ: There's also just a Garfunkel, which is perfect.

ALIX: Oh yeah, Garfunkel.

JULIAN: Oh, I forgot about Garfunk-- wait,, which clan is Garfunkel in? I don't remember Garfunkel.

LIZ: Uh, WindClan.

PAZ: Garfunkel.

ALIX: Kushaclaw?

LIZ: Suepaw.

ALIX: Wow.

PAZ: Others: Loner, Amberfeather (go Amby!)

JULIAN: That was my best friend.

ALIX: Aw.

PAZ: Aw.

JULIAN: She used to be the leader of RiverClan but then decided to become a loner.

ALIX: [gasp] The drama.

PAZ: Wow.

LIZ: Wait. There's a loner called Mirage. Shout outs to Emily.

ALIX: Oh my gosh. Mirage is here.

PAZ: Wow, Mirage Apex Legends.

LIZ: Oh, and the very last name in this whole entire list is Cody.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: God bless.

JULIAN: Cody was like a rando who just really badly wanted to play a kittypet. And it's like, well, I mean, you can if you want to, but...

LIZ: I respect that. You've got to have some different perspectives in here.

JULIAN: I think you would have really gotten along with Cody because Cody's whole shtick when role playing was that they would just like pop into RPs and be like, hey, you should all come be kittypets with me.

ALIX: Y'all heard of medicine?

LIZ: Do you want to get vaccinated? Do you not want to have ticks? Well, have I got the lifestyle for you.

JULIAN: Yep.

LIZ: Anyway, thank you for this. These beautiful links.

ALIX: They're really incredible.

LIZ: And this beautiful image. And this beautiful question.

JULIAN: Yeah, thank you so much, Nat.

PAZ: Yeah. And I hope we can dive into the Proboards experience more in the future.

JULIAN: Yes.

PAZ: But Alix brought us something very special as well, speaking of the distant Warriors past.

ALIX: Yes. So I've basically had access to the same email account since I was nine, ten years old. So I found an email exchange between my middle school best friend and me about Warrior Cats. So I linked a Google doc. And if somebody wants to be my best friend from middle school, I will be me, and we can read this little exchange

JULIAN: Yeah, I'm happy to do it.

ALIX: Okay. All right, obviously don't doxx her.

JULIAN: Right, of course.

ALIX: So, "Dear Rainface. I got Warriors Field Guide, Secrets of the Clans, and it includes, ta-da! the story of how the clans started. Here is a summary. Many minutes ago, there were only cats who lived in small groups. They fought for no reason at all. It was a lawless, bloodly time for the forest.

One night, they agreed to meet at Fourtrees and talk. They ended up having a battle. Many cats died. The living ones slept at Fourtrees. When they woke up, they saw the slain cats as starry cats/StarClan. 'Unite or die,' said StarClan. Four cats wanted to lead the cats, a black female, Shadow, a silver gray tom with green eyes, River, a wiry brown she-cat, Wind, and a ginger tom with amber eyes, Thunder.

A dispute broke out. Suddenly, 'Silence!' a StarClan tabby yowled. She told them to find cats like them. For Shadow, night hunters, for River, water-loving cats, for Wind, fast runners, and for Thunder, strong hunters. 'If you do this,' said a white tom, 'we will reward you with eight extra lives that you may lead your clans many moons.' A tortoiseshell said, 'we will watch over you from Silverpelt and visit you in dreams.' The white tom declared the full moon truce. The tabby yowled from the great rock, 'you will be warriors.' All the cats agreed. And so began the age of the Warrior Cats." I just want to say that I did write this summary.

PAZ: It's so good.

LIZ: It's beautiful.

ALIX: And I put an ellipsis, then "isn't that scarily like A Place Before StarClan by us, with the white tom and everything? Let me know. Bye! Hawkear."

JULIAN: "It is. But there is no Moonstone coming down to earth or little cats blowing off to the north, south, east or west. Their version is way too boring."

ALIX: "There is a Moonstone story that I will tell you later. But I admit it is a little boring."

JULIAN: "Okay."

ALIX: "We talked about it."

JULIAN: "Oh. Yeah."

ALIX: "Please give back the books if you are done. I need Harry Potter Seven Guesses book before it comes out."

JULIAN: "Sorry I couldn't give it back to you sooner."

ALIX: "'S okay." Spelled S, apostrophe, okay.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: "Good."

ALIX: Then I said, "Hey, now I suppose there was a Sky too?" End exchange.

PAZ: Beautiful.

JULIAN: I love that in 2007 it was totally fine to send a one-word email.

ALIX: Yeah.

PAZ: This is-- I did not email my friends like this. This is fascinating.

ALIX: You know, I would have said that I didn't either, but apparently I did.

JULIAN: I super did, so

PAZ: I love your summary so much.

LIZ: It's so good.

PAZ: "It was a lawless, bloodly time for the forest."

ALIX: I do love "bloodly."

LIZ: That's innovation.

ALIX: I do think this is the canonical lore. But also like, I love that I just sent it up in such a like-- it's like a vaguely poetic way. But I'm just like, "they ended up having a battle." Absolutely no reason why.

PAZ: I love that you were like, so this is the official thing. We did it first and way better.

ALIX: It's a really, really powerful energy.

JULIAN: Oh, to have the sheer confidence of like an 11 year old hyped up on Warrior Cats.

PAZ: Oh, right?

LIZ: That's the confidence you need to send a one word email.

ALIX: Yeah.

JULIAN: That just says "good."

ALIX: I feel like I'm putting way more energy into this exchange than my friend. I'm writing paragraphs. And she's like, good, thanks.

JULIAN: Yeah, I tried to bring as much to the role as I could, but I didn't have a lot to work with.

ALIX: Thank you, you did a great job. Also, wait. Sorry, I just realized the difference-- how much time was between these different messages, because I sent that "'s okay" one on July 31, 2007, and she responded, "good," on August 14, 2007.

PAZ: That's about the rate at which I reply to emails.

ALIX: Yeah, there's five days between almost all of these emails.

LIZ: God, if this was now, it'd be like, hey, just checking in for an update. Have you had a chance to look at my Warrior Cats summary yet? Okay. Let me know. Thanks again. Bye.

JULIAN: Just wanted to touch base on this. Do you have any thoughts?

ALIX: Circling back on this. Isn't our fanfiction better?

LIZ: Best wishes.

ALIX: I hope this email finds you well.

JULIAN: Let me know if you have any questions.

LIZ: Hope to hear from you soon.

JULIAN: Email was a mistake actually. Except for this, this is the only valid use for email.

LIZ: We should have never moved on from this.

ALIX: Thank you so much for letting me read this.

JULIAN: Thank you for sharing it with us.

ALIX: It amused me very much when I found it.

PAZ: It's very good. Thank you. That's kind of what we got-- what we have to bring to the table today. I don't know. I think we did a good, like retrospective talk. Oh, okay. I know what I wanted to do. Liz?

LIZ: Yeah?

PAZ: Would you like to give us your prophecy for the next book?

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: Yeees.

ALIX: Yes [clapping].

PAZ: What do you think will happen?

LIZ: Um, they're going to almost get Tigerclaw. But he's going to get away at the last minute, I think at the end of the book. And sorry, did I say Tigerclaw? I did, right?

ALIX: Yeah.

LIZ: All right. And Fireheart is going to be like, rats, if only I had not been wracked with indecision, and also just brainlessness because I'm a dumb little cat. So he's going to have that kind of like, you know, Hamlet hubris moment. And he's gonna get a promotion. Maybe they'll have different jobs now.

You might see more of the other apprentices. Graystripe will develop a personality. I say that with affection. Because there's going to be less exposition to give, I think. They are going to have a fun little jaunt into the barn while they're on a patrol or something. And they're going to see their good friend Ravenpaw. And he's going to be fine with his new boyfriend.

Bluestar is going to have like-- there's gonna be a subplot with Bluestar. She's gonna be like, oh, I'm getting so old, I need to start thinking about me. Like, what have I done for myself? All these years and I don't even know myself. And that is like her slice of life older person romance plot with Yellowfang, who's like re entering the workforce as an older medicine cat. Yeah, that's pretty much my prediction.

JULIAN: I would watch this drama.

ALIX: I love this so much.

JULIAN: Bluestar's self care journey.

ALIX: I love how hard you're manifesting that Ravenpaw is okay.

LIZ: Yeah. He is. I don't know what you mean.

PAZ: The aggression in your voice. Thank you so much. I'm excited to see if your prophecy comes true. Well, that was it for Into the Wild. We're done with it. And now we're moving on to Fire and Ice next week. Very excited.

ALIX: I'm so excited to listen.

JULIAN: Hell yeah.

LIZ: I've had the book on Libby for like a few days now. And I'm like, chomping at the bit to get into it.

PAZ: Now is the time.

JULIAN: Oh, Alix, do you have anything you want to plug?

ALIX: Yeah, I have two podcasts, Hot Taking It, where I watch classic MTV sitcom Faking It, which is about high school lesbians fake dating. And also a podcast that I finished, I guess, although it's kind of ongoing, which is Across the Loonaverse, which is explaining Loona lore. Julian was on that at one point, so if you're a fan of Julian--

JULIAN: Oh, I was. I forgot.

ALIX: --you can go listen to that. And then that will pretty soon be replaced by a Riverdale podcast where I can talk about KJ Apa some more, although not in the role of Fireheart. Yeah, Across the Loonaverse, and Hot Taking It, which I think you can find if you go to my Twitter, which is @kismetnemesis, and then I have them linked. Probably the easiest way to do it.

JULIAN: Hell yeah.

PAZ: And as a reminder, you can find our show @staircast on Twitter. And if you want to send in any questions or anecdotes like the ones we read today, you can send them into stairwaytostarclan@gmail.com. And we'll check those periodically.

LIZ: Yeah, I want to thank everyone again, for the really good questions. They're just, they're very cute and sweet. And I had a good time listening and reading them.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's really nice to hear what this series means to other people.

PAZ: Mm hmm. Yeah. And I am just having a blast revisiting it. So thank you, everyone who's doing it with us as well.

ALIX: Yeah, thank you so much for letting me be on the show and also making the show so that I can listen to it. It's genuinely like the highlight of my week. Like every Sunday, I'm like, Alright, it's time to listen to Staircast.

PAZ: Thank you.

JULIAN: Aw, Alix.

LIZ: Thank you for coming on because you're, one, a seasoned podcaster, and also per the rules of the Clan, the new podcast host, so it's in your hands now.

ALIX: Yeah, um, although I think next week I might be busy, if you guys could just be interim hosts for a little while.

LIZ: Yeah, of course.

PAZ: Okay, yeah. We'll figure it out.

JULIAN: We'll be podcast deputies.

ALIX: Oh yes. And if I die, you all have to fight it out.

LIZ: Who has to wait for that? Listen. You've read about Tigerclaw. He's doing fine for himself.

PAZ: Well, uh, I think that's gonna do it for us this week. Tune in next week for Fire and Ice and until then, may StarClan light your path. Bye.

JULIAN: Bye.

LIZ: Bye.

ALIX: B-bye?

LIZ: I'm never sure if I should do that one with you guys.

PAZ: Yeah. I keep it in.

[outro music]

PAZ: Okay, let me put away these covers.

ALIX: These childish things.

JULIAN: No, we're taking out childish things

PAZ: Oh, whoa, it got translated into Latvian. Wild.

ALIX: Only two books, though, so they don't get to know the whole plot.

PAZ: No, Latvian at least got to The Darkest Hour, so three books.

[huphilpuffs]

Fated Flowers

Summary: Soulmate AU where, every time your soulmate realizes new feelings for you, you get a rose. One random day in 2014, Dan wakes up with a red rose on his bedside table.

Word count: 8120

Warnings: Blood, food. If I missed anything please let me know.

A/N: A huge thank you goes out to Elizajane (@snowbunnylester) for letting me run with this idea based on Rachel’s (@botanistlester​) prompt for her latest fic (um if you haven’t read it wyd), for the constant encouragement, and for beta'ing this for me.

(Ao3 Link)

In retrospect, writing their book so late was probably not the best idea.

Not in the wee hours of the morning when minds are either cycling through thoughts too deep to elaborate upon or so shallow and muddled that, come the next day, they make no sense, when laughter flows far more freely than words and smiles replace the furrowed brows of focus and progress takes the shape of a few jumbled words at a time.

One wayward step forward, two steps back.

But still; it’s fun.

Especially when Phil breaks out in giggles again, the sound echoing from the office’s slanted ceiling, loud enough to have Dan rolling his eyes, and turning his office chair so he can face where Phil is sitting on the couch.

His head is thrown back, pressing to the wall behind him, eyes closed and crinkled at the corners, tongue poking out from between his teeth. There’s something too happy about the sight, of his bright pyjama pants and t-shirt with a smile so joyous, and surely it’s the lack of sleep that has Dan smiling before he says a word.

“Your story’s that funny, is it?” he says. “You think pretty highly of yourself, Mr. Lester.”

There’s still laughter ringing in the silence, past the muffle of Phil’s hand over his mouth when he shrugs. “Says you, Mr. Phil’s number one fan.”

Heat blooms at Dan’s cheeks, and he reaches forward, jams his toes against Phil’s knee. “Shut up.”

But he’s laughing now, too, certain his dimple is showing in his cheek. His empty word document goes forgotten as he stands, drawn towards where Phil is sitting, weight sinking onto the uncomfortable couch. His fingers fumble for a throw pillow, crush it to his chest. His gaze falls first to Phil’s face, the smile still lifting the corners of his mouth, the laughter sparkling in his eyes.

Then to his laptop. “Okay, what’s so funny.”

He grabs the laptop for himself, slides it onto his own lap. Phil attempts to explain in giggles by Dan’s ear, soft and happy and laced with middle of the night fatigue. Dan ignores him, rolling his eyes again as he turns his gaze to something actually useful, to lines of black text.

There’s an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he reads, anticipation bubbling with every time Phil’s eyes flick between the computer screen and his face.

Laughter booms from his chest when he reaches the end, the point where Phil got too sidetracked by his own amusement to continue.

“Naked Harry Styles?” he manages between giggles, voice too loud and words too high pitched. “What the actual fuck, Phil?”

Phil’s eyes go wide, grin widening, quiet chuckles still tumbling from his lips. “It’s funny!”

It is, funny enough to have Dan still swallowing back his own amusement as he slides the laptop back to Phil, nudge’s his friend’s shoulder with his own. “I think you just have a thing for Harry Styles.”

Phil nudges back, still laughing as his fingers form wordless jumbles of letters on the keyboard. “Well I think you’re just jealous.”

“Of naked Harry Styles?” And god, it should be embarrassing that he’s laughing again, feels the sound in his chest more than he hears it in the office space. But Phil is, too, pressing himself closer to Dan, his shoulder bouncing with his amusement, with every giggle that tumbles from his lips. “I hate to break to you, but I have zero interest in being birthed from your chest.”

Phil laughs and pushes Dan away only to drag him back. “Not of Harry Styles, you idiot,” he says. “Of me.”

“Why in flying fuck would I be jealous of you in that story?”

Their laughter is constant now, a pleasant ringing in Dan’s ears, a constant movement on the couch. Warm and happy and laced with exhaustion, too giddy and dumb, but he can’t swallow it back anymore, can’t keep the images of Phil and Harry Styles and himself in their kitchen after Phil gave birth, can’t keep himself from imagining the positions reversed as Phil’s voice comes, muddled, past his laughter.

“Oh, c’mon, Dan. We both know you secretly have a thing a for Harry Styles.”

That has Dan’s spine straightening, eyes widening. “Excuse me,” he says. And before he can think about it, he’s reaching over to jab his fingers into Phil’s sides until he’s twisting away, gasping between his laughs. “Last I checked, you’re the one who wrote a fanfiction that features him naked.”

Phil hiccups, giggly and smiling and squirming away from Dan’s tickles. He’s trying to speak, only for it to die in his throat, and his hands fumble over Dan’s, trying to push them away.

“Stop. Stop.”

Yet Dan’s fingers remain at Phil’s sides, tickling him as he tries to squirm away. “Not until you admit that you have a thing for Harry Styles,” he teases.

Phil giggles in response, and slaps helplessly at Dan’s hands. “I don’t,” he hiccups.

Dan responds by redoubling his efforts, leaning in even closer as Phil scooches away, doubled over where Dan’s fingers keep drifting along his sides. He tickles along Phil’s ribcage, laughing too as tears start to leak from Phil’s eyes. “I think you do,” he sings, teasing.

Phil shakes his head against the back of the sofa. “I don’t. Dan, I don’t,” he squeaks, gasps for breath as he tries to push Dan away again. “Stop. Stop.”

He does. Eventually. When Phil’s panting and Dan’s tired of chasing him down to couch to continue tickling him. When the joke has died and it’s easier to just sink back against the couch, to let his laughter die out in puffs of amusement that keep breaking the silence.

They’re wedged to the edge of the couch now, pressed together, and when Phil finally seems to accept that the assault of tickling is done, he sinks against Dan’s shoulder, head falling so their temples are pressed together.

“I don’t have a thing for Harry Styles,” he mutters.

Dan’s responding laugh is but a puff, quieter now, sleepier. “I think you do.”

“I do not,” says Phil. He pulls away, drifting too close, silent and sleepy, and when Dan turns to face him, wide eyed and smiling, says “I–”

“You what?”

There’s one last giggle, another moment before Phil’s knocking their heads together again, letting his weight sink even more into Dan’s side. “I’m tired. It’s past my bedtime.”

And so they sit there, silent, until their computer screens go black, and dragging themselves to their bedrooms is the only logical option.

---

Dan remembers that first, when he wakes up the next morning.

Their shoulders pressed together, still shaking with silent amusement even after the joke had stopped really being funny, after the tickle fight had ended. Phil’s fringe wayward and in his eyes, his hair tickling the side of Dan’s face because they were pressed so close.

The rest is a blur. Too active, too lively for his sleep muddled brain to make it flash as vivid behind closed eyelids. It’s the high-pitched squeals of laughter and the blinking cursor on Phil’s computer screen and Phil’s hands pushing Dan’s away as he was tickled. It’s happy in its soft obscurity.

Maybe it’s because Dan’s brain is sappy in the morning that a voice in the back of his mind reminds him that moments like those are exactly what he’d always wanted in a best friend.

His face is still pressed to his pillow, eyes still unopened, darkness swirling at the edges of kaleidoscope colours. He can feel the smile stretching across his cheeks, bursting past the irritation of needing to wake up. And after one last deep breath, one last indulgence of not-actually-sleep, he forces himself to just get up.

Well, open his eyes at least.

The first thing he sees is his clock, reminding him of how royally fucked up his sleeping schedule is as it tells him that it’s not really morning, but the afternoon.

The second thing he sees is the red rose sitting right in front of it.

---

Dan had first heard of the roses when he was four years old, and it had dawned on him to ask his mother the story behind every single decoration hanging on their walls. He’d gone around the house pointing to things, asking his mother why, and she’d explain with a laugh that I just like how it looks, little bear.

One such decoration was the bundle of dried roses pressed into a frame, which actually did have a story.

His mother had taken it down from the wall for once, hugging it to her chest with one hand as she reached for Dan’s hand with the other. She’d led him, without a word, to the living room, sat on the couch and drawn him next to her, holding him to her side. The frame had sat on her lap, glass gleaming under yellow light, the flowers dried and faded within.

“The roses are special,” she’d told him. “They’re messages from the universe, straight to you, that you’re soulmate has certain feelings for you.”

His brow had furrowed, and he’d pressed his fingers to the glass. “What’s a so-mate?”

She’d laughed, but her response had been quiet and understandable. She’d told him that everyone had a special person out there, meant just for them. Someone who’d be there for them no matter what, who’d love them through thick and thin, whose life would make theirs better. Her smile had been soft with affection as she explained that Dan’s dad was her soulmate, that the roses were the universe telling her that their relationship was growing.

“You’ll understand better when you’re older,” she’d said, but a whisper. “But for now, do you want to know what the colours mean, bear?”

He’d nodded, and she’d explained.

The yellow roses were friendship, she’d explained. She got hers when his dad realized that they were friends, good friends. It had just appeared on her nightstand overnight, a promise that there was something blooming there.

The orange roses were desire. One day he’d hear the word crush, she’d told him, and when his soulmate had one on him, he’d get an orange rose on his bedside table.

The pink roses were budding romantic feelings. She’d told him that one day he’d be in a relationship and he’d feel something that wasn’t quite love, but was more than just friendship. And when his soulmate realized they felt that for him, he’d get a pink rose.

And the last roses, a pair in the center, were red and symbolized love. Her cheeks had been as crimson as the flowers once were as she recounted how happy it had made her to find one sitting by her bed. And even at four years old, Dan had been smiling too.

He knew what love was. And he knew that he wanted a red rose of his own, one day.

---

Except Dan has a red rose now.

It’s pinched between his fingers, held in front of his face. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed now, the call of sleep forgotten, the world narrowed to a single red rose. A bundle of petals full of promise and implications and love and his younger, more innocent self imagined this moment full of giddy smiles and rosy cheeks.

Instead, he’s staring at the flower with furrowed brows and a frown twisting at his lips.

---

The red rose isn’t the first one that’s appeared.

There’s a yellow one too, one that had almost shimmered in the low light of his childhood bedroom, in the eyes of a sadder, younger version of him. Dan had been eighteen and unable to believe that he even had a soulmate when he woke up one morning to petals as yellow as the sunshine sitting there, beautiful in their simplicity.

Even that version of him, the person who cried himself to sleep too often and spent too many nights wishing to just disappear, had mustered a smile at the sight.

It had been a promise, reassurance that there was someone out there meant just for him, for the broken boy full of self doubt and questions, who stayed up longing to have someone’s arms wrapped around him and a voice telling him it would be okay in a world where he didn’t feel his own insecurity crawling up his spine.

It was stupidly giddy, in retrospect, how he’d twirled the rose in his fingers for hours, staring at the brightness of the petals. How he’d sneaked into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water to put it in so it’s brilliant colours wouldn’t wilt too soon. How he’d run his mind over everyone he’d met recently who may have considered him a friend that day.

He’d never told anyone about the rose. Not when his mother asked questions, or when his brother grew curious about the roses, or when his grandmother promised him he would one day meet his soulmate.

Not even that day, when his phone chimed with a message from Phil telling him he was glad they’d Skyped the night before, punctuated with an XD face that had Dan smiling happily at his screen.

---

Dan’s pacing.

It’s a sudden realization, the kind reminiscent of crises that have his mind spinning and his world off kilter, his awareness of himself fading until Phil knocks at the door and asks if he’s okay. He’s still wearing nothing but his pants and the rose is still perched in his hand and his heart is racing and it’s too much.

He sets the rose on his bedside table first, throws on a shirt and heads towards the door, but when his fingers close around the doorknob, he turns back, stomach twisting and eyes flitting down to the flower. He ends up rushing back, dropping it into his nightstand drawer instead, just in case.

Darkness flits at the edges of his thoughts when he imagines Phil coming into his room, seeing it there. He swallows them back, tells himself he just needs something normal and not laced with mystery to calm the thoughts shooting through his brain, burning like nausea in his chest.

He leaves his bedroom with the rose still haunting his thoughts, hoping Phil’s already up so he can have something to distract him.

---

That isn’t normal either.

Dan walks into the lounge and Phil is bouncing to his feet, eyes too wide and jaw clenched. His gaze follows the lines of Dan’s body, lingers a moment too long on where one of Dan’s hands is buried in the pocket of his jeans, and after a moment, he lets out a shuddering breath, eyes finally drifting up to catch Dan’s.

Maybe it’s the rose in his bedroom. Maybe it’s the fact that Phil usually greets him with nothing but a shrug or some joking comment about how late it is for Dan to be getting out of bed. But there’s something uncomfortable in his chest, aching against his ribs, as he stares back at his friend.

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe, just waits, anxiety welling because life with Phil isn’t supposed to feel like this. It doesn’t usually feel like this, like social interaction he can’t maneuver and self-doubt making him want to tug at the bottom of his t-shirt or fix his fringe.

“How was your morning?”

The question almost has him stumbling back with its simplicity, has him schooling his features because surely, surely Phil’s behaviour warrants a greater shift from the norm than small talk.

Dan might have a habit of reading too much into things, but it’s Phil. He knows Phil, knows their routine, that there’s no staring, no small talk, just bickering about cereal and anime and staying up too late the night before.

It’s never this.

“Uh, okay?” he answers, though it comes out at as a squeak. “Nothing too eventful.”

And okay, maybe it’s a lie. Maybe he should be concerned that his soulmate somehow fell in love with him yesterday and he has no idea who they even are. Maybe he is. But Phil is– he’s Phil and Dan tells him everything, but this doesn’t fit that mold, somehow. This stays trapped in his chest just like the story of the yellow rose, his and his alone even with his best friend staring back at him with eyes so wide and worried Dan’s almost tempted to turn the question around on him.

He doesn’t, but mostly because Phil speaks first.

“Nothing?”

It’s tinged with … something. With relief or worry or disbelief, and Dan feels his brows furrow at the tone, forces himself to look away, to hide it.

There’s definitely something wrong. So many things wrong. There’s a red rose in his bedside table, and a soulmate somewhere who’s in love with him, and a best friend acting so, so weird standing only a few feet away.

“Nothing,” he lies. “I’m just going to be … working on a video today.”

Phil nods. Dan does too.

And then he turns around and walks away without having eaten breakfast.

---

Dan’s back hits the door first.

He’s standing in his bedroom and his palms are sweating, his knees are weak, his back is pressed to the door and a million questions play on repeat in his mind; A cycle of rose and soulmate and Phil and who, what when, where, why how, of heaving breaths and blurry vision and he pushes himself away from the door before he sinks to the ground, loses his mind to the uncertainty housed within it.

It’s not a video that occupies his thoughts. Not the pressure of creativity that weighs on his shoulders or the standard he holds himself too that has concern pounding in his veins.

He stares at his bedside drawer, imagining the rose hidden within, crimson petals, green leaves, and yellow thorns.

And he turns back to the door, reaches forward, flips the lock, before heading for his closet.

---

The last time he’d seen the rose yellow had been when they moved to London.

Dan had moved the dictionary that had held it for so long into the Manchester flat, had found it again as he was packing up his stuff. His fingers had slid along the bundle of pages for minutes too long before he’d flipped the book open, revealed the dried, flattened rose hidden within.

It’s yellow petals had faded in time, grown rigid under the tentative touch of his fingertips. But still there was a smile spreading across his face at the sight, at the reminder of that day in his bedroom when his cheeks had burned pink for hours and the rose was so much more than just a flower hidden away in the deepest crevices of his space.

He’d set the dictionary aside, letting it hit the ground with a thud as he drew his knees to his chest, the flower still cradled between his palms. The stem was smooth from his careful efforts to remove the thorns back then, the petals flattened and yet still forming a small bud at their center.

Phil was rustling around in the next room, huffing about putting off packing for too long, so loudly that Dan could hear it, and it was the first time Dan almost showed someone the flower, stepped out of his bedroom to tell his best friend that years ago he and his soulmate had reached something worthy of a yellow rose and yet he had never found out who they were.

But he sat there, instead, curled up in a ball with hands cupped around a rose, staring at it for far too long with those same red cheeks and butterflies that he’d had back then.

And after a while, he’d reached into his closet, pulled out one of his old law books that he’d decided to keep, and wedged the flower into a new home between its pages.

---

Dan hasn’t had a law book spread out before him in a long time.

Probably, he guesses, since the last time he took one out mid-existential crisis, brain swirling with questions of what would have been, if he should have, could have, would have finished his degree. When he needed to remind himself of how absolutely dreadful law was so he opened a book, read a page and set it aside.

But today he has one sitting on his lap, pages played and a yellow rose fallen into the dip between them.

He reaches for it, takes it between his fingers. It feels drier, somehow, though the colours are no more faded than they were two years ago when he’d last held it. But it doesn’t radiate with promise like it used to, doesn’t send butterflies to his stomach or make his cheeks flush or his brain whir with ideas of finding his soulmate with a warm heart and a smile that brightens his life.

It’s almost a threat now, as though it still has its thorns.

---

Back then he hadn’t been happy.

Dan realizes it more now than ever.

Because now he walks around his apartment with lips curling upwards, films gaming videos laced with laughter and friendship, goes to bed at night worrying a little less. He can talk to people when he needs to and look at his life and find success and friendship and love and it’s so much more beautiful than his younger self could have imagined.

When the first rose showed up, he was sad. He was broken and confused. His friends had left and his future was nothing but a question mark and his mind was tainted with darkness and somehow within that spiral of breaking pieces he’d made a friend. A mystery friend who was also his soulmate and who would surely make his life better in time, who surely already had.

And the last time he saw it, he’d been scared. Scared of moving to London, of taking that risk. Of being a radio personality and his channel growing and people wanting more from him that he couldn’t give. His mind still echoed with voices telling him he was a failure for dropping out of uni, and his place in the world was growing so much, yet still seemed so wholly insignificant, and the rose was grounding.

It was that same promise.

That somewhere out there, there was someone meant just for him who would be there for him no matter what, and who would brighten his life.

Dan had needed that promise back then.

But he doesn’t need it now.

He isn’t even sure he wants it now.

---

Dan’s pacing again.

This time with a yellow rose pinched between his fingers, his heartbeat just as erratic and a frown just as deep a they had been earlier. His breaths are still, and his thoughts are a mess, and he catches himself mid step just as he reaches the head of his bed again, stands right in front of the nightstand where his new rose is still hidden.

He almost turns away again, walks back towards the door, staring at his feet as though the answer to his predicament is disguised in the rhythm of footsteps he barely realizes he’s taking.

But then he’s reaching down, opening the drawer, closing his hand around the rose’s stem without any regard for the thorns that prickle against his palm.

His weight sinks onto the edge of his mattress, one rose in each hand splayed open over his thighs. Faded yellow petals of hope and vibrant red ones of life-changing implication.

Why did it have to show up at a time when he doesn’t want his life to change?

He tightens his grip on it, feels the thorns press harder to his palm without caring about the tinges of pain it causes. There’s anger welling now, past the shock and confusion and endless line of questions, burning on the tip of his tongue as shouts that he swallows back.

Why now?

Why when he finally has his life together? When he’s writing a book? When he has such a good home? When he’s happy?

Why did this person have to fall in love with him now?

His hand clenches even tighter around the rose, wounds starting to burn where the thorns cut through his skin.

Who even is this person threatening to tear the best time of his life apart?

It’s dawned on him before, but now it has his eyes going wide, mind finally ceasing its incessant confusion to still on that one question.

Who?

---

They fell in love with him yesterday.

Whoever it is that made a rose appear on his nightstand overnight fell in love with him yesterday. Because that’s how the universe’s weird rose system works. Something changes in a relationship, and the next day a person gets a flower indicating that their soulmate realized this shift.

So whoever it is … they realized that they love him yesterday.

There’s just one problem with that.

Dan didn’t even leave the flat yesterday.

He woke up, had breakfast, and watched anime with Phil. He played video games with Phil, bickered about TABINOF content that needed to be written that day with Phil, and closed himself up in his bedroom to try to make some progress on writing. Then he’d ordered pizza and eaten dinner with Phil while watching TV, filmed a gaming video and helped Phil come up with an idea for his main channel. They’re spent the night working on the book, laughing together at the inside jokes they’d shared.

And somehow … between all that, someone had fallen in love with him.

---

Dan blinks the thoughts away.

Images too vivid of a normal day, a normal series of events, of meals and work and hobbies and friendship with no romance, no love. No possible explanation for the rose that appeared overnight with its promise that something did happen when it shouldn’t have happened and shit.

He blinks again, focuses the real world around him, looks down.

His hand is wrapped tight around the rose’s stem now, a burn erupting in his palm. He lets go, stares down at where his hand is still splayed over his thigh until his vision goes blurry.

There’s a drop of blood leaking along the lines of his cupped hand.

---

Wounds. He needs to wash the wounds.

Dan bounds to his feet at the thought, wobbly on unsteady knees that mirror his thoughts, fingers that are shaking so much the red rose falls to the ground. And yet he manages a step forward. And another, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, knees still weak under the weight of his thoughts.

They don’t even hurt, the cuts on his hand.

But he needs–

Needs something clean and easy and straightforward. Something like washing the blood from his hand and covering it with a plaster, the systemic, familiar motions of it. The easy steps that make sense and aren’t riddled with questions.

He needs it.

So he steps towards the door.

---

There’s still a rose in his hand.

Dan realizes it when he goes to open the door and his fist is clenched around the dried stem of the yellow rose. Realizes it with a twist of anxiety in his gut and his eyes slamming shut and a breath more uneven than is warranted. With a desperate voice in his head telling him Phil can’t see the roses.

He can’t know.

About the roses.

About Dan’s soulmate.

He just … can’t.

So it’s with stumbling steps that he turns back into his bedroom. With a clumsy, still bleeding right hand,he opens the bedside drawer. He drops the yellow flower in first, turns and finds the thorny red one sitting on his floor and stuffs that one in the drawer too.

It slams shut too loudly. Hides the roses from sight.

Somehow, his breath is one of unwarranted relief.

---

Dan walks into the lounge with footsteps too loud to be greeted with Phil already standing there, staring.

He has his phone in one hand and his fringe is pushed back into a quiff as though he’s been running his fingers through his hair, and there’s a pink stain on his cheeks that Dan can’t find a reason for. Not when his gaze turns to the TV where some nature documentary is playing, and not when it follows the lines of Phil’s body from his mismatched socks to his hands lingering at his sides to the look on his face.

His eyes are wide. Too wide.

“Are you okay?”

Dan almost chokes on his response. On a why wouldn’t I be as though he hasn’t spent the last day locked in his bedroom without having so much as eaten, only to rush out with clumsy footsteps and thoughts just as messy.

Instead, he stares back.

At Phil.

Phil who’s also been acting strange all day. Who’s been jumping and attentive and worried and breaking their norm almost as much as Dan has.

Who’s–

Shit.

Phil.

---

“You’re bleeding.”

Dan blinks, and Phil’s coming towards him, all quick steps and worried eyes and shit. He’s reaching out, down to where Dan’s hand has been hovering at his side, fingers soft and attentive. Phil traces the line of Dan’s thumb and cradles the back of his hand, so careful as though the wounds are more than just slightly too deep puncture marks from a rose.

The rose.

That god, might’ve– could’ve --

Been because of Phil.

Dan draws his hand back so quickly Phil’s head snaps up, eyes going impossibly wide, locked on his. Dan can’t breathe, not with Phil’s touch so soft and a new set of questions swirling through his mind. Not with eyes he knows too well but, fuck, not well enough staring back at him like that.

“I’m fine,” he chokes. “It’s just, uh, procrastination gone wrong.”

There’s silence. It’s a dumb lie and they both know it, and Dan can’t help but wonder if Phil can see the truth gleaming behind his eyes.

If he can see roses in the crimson Dan can feel staining his cheeks.

---

“Come on.”

Phil drags Dan from the lounge to the kitchen with promises that they’ll clean the wounds and stick a plaster on them, voice soft and soothing as though he thinks Dan’s a child.

And maybe he feels like one right now, with eyes wide with shock and the world overwhelming, as he lets his best friend—his soulmate?—lead him through their flat.

Dan could clean the wound himself. He knows that. Phil knows that. But still, there’s a hand wrapped around his, leading him, and his every movement and is easier like this. Easier to watch as Phil turns on the tap and presses Dan’s hand under the cascade of lukewarm water. As blood leaves watery streaks of crimson down his palm. As Phil turns away to retrieve a plaster from the cupboard.

His questions about how the wound happened go unanswered, because Dan can’t focus enough to come up with a lie.

Isn’t sure enough to tell the truth.

So he just watches. As Phil wipes the last bits of red away, dabs the wound clean with a paper towel. His touch is still gentle, warm and soft and it’s–

It’s anime and breakfast.

It’s Mario Kart mornings.

It’s pizza dinners.

It’s Phil.

---

The plaster is pressed to his skin and Dan’s pulling his hand away in an instant.

“I– I have to go.”

There’s a moment where Phil’s fingers twitch in the air between them, the motion as uncertain and confused as the look on his face, but Dan can’t. He just can’t stay here, so close, with so many thoughts and questions and memories and god.

Could he be in love with his best friend?

“Idea,” he sputters. “I have an idea for my video.”

And he turns, runs back to his bedroom before Phil can say a word.

---

Dan kicks the door shut behind him, flips the lock, and falls back against it.

The image is there again, vivid. The first thing he can think of, the first memory of the day and the last of the night and it’s there and bright and beautiful and ringing with laughter and soft with sleep and he can see it all now.

Four in the morning and they’re sitting in the gaming room, Phil’s laptop set aside and giggles echoing off the walls, but they’re silent. They’re still. Wedged into a corner, pressed together. Shoulders still shaking with silent amusement that shines brilliant and happy in the blurry edges of Dan’s memory.

Phil’s fringe was wayward over his eyes, his hair tickling the side of Dan’s face because they were so close.

It would have been so easy to just reach out, slip his arm around Phil and draw him in close. To hold him there until they’d started falling asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but the glow of computer screens and straightness of their spines to remind them to stay conscious.

So easy to just turn his head, smudge sleepy smiles with soft kisses.

Regret twists in Dan’s gut at the image. Of thighs and shoulders and heads pressed together when it could have been easy touches and lips meeting in the quiet of night.

He shouldn’t want it.

He didn’t think he did want it.

But, fuck, he wants it.

---

Dan’s in love with his best friend.

He stumbles forward onto his bed, and by the time his face hits the mattress he knows it’s true.

And then he’s turning his head, reaching out to open his bedside drawer so clumsy fingers can fumble within. Can find the red rose that suddenly seems less like a threat.

More like the promise the yellow one once was.

His best friend might be in love with him too.

---

One can only stare at a red rose with a too-giddy smile for so long before they have to move.

For Dan, that time comes when his stomachs starts to grumble with protests at his lack of eating so far today. He’s still lying on his stomach on his bed, arm outstretched and rose resting near his hand on the black and white of his bedspread, and with the crushing weight of confusion and anxiety lifted, he’s hungry.

Stepping from his bedroom now, though, seems so much less intimidating. His secrets feel less heavy, his world less narrowed to a single flower threatening everything he holds dear.

If it did appear because of Phil, that is.

He swallows back that thought, because it’s easier to ignore the possibility for now. The lack of doubt allows him to lift himself from his bed, set the roses back in his nightstand, and turn back to the rest of the flat.

When he walks into the lounge this time, Phil doesn’t jump with questions, but his gaze still turns to lock on Dan. Still wide eyed and worried and something else that hits Dan with a shuddering breath.

If he’s right, if Phil’s his soulmate, then that thing layered behind his worry is … love?

It should be too much, right? Should be some startling realization of oh shit everything’s about to change. But it makes sense, if it’s true. It’s gleaming in blue eyes and warm in the air and nothing feels different, it just makes sense now, why it’s there.

If he’s right.

God, he wants to be right.

“Did you, uh, figure out your video?” says Phil.

Confusion comes first, until he remembers the lies he’s told, the feeble explanation for why he’s locked himself in his bedroom today. The one he’s sure Phil can see through and that he can feel seeping into the answer he gives.

“Yeah, I think I figured it out.”

And he did. He thinks. He’s almost certain now, as he watches Phil breathe a sigh of relief and his shoulders sag. The worry fades from his eyes, the look in them so familiar that it sends Dan’s heart racing again because shit how did he not realize it sooner?

He walks into the lounge like he normally would, sinks onto the couch as though he hasn’t been acting strange all day.

“Want to order pizza and play Mario Kart?”

The responding smile that blooms across Phil’s face is answer enough.

---

Phil almost always goes to bed before Dan.

Even when Dan is mid-crisis and Phil spends his day hovering at the edges of his pain, always ready to offer a helping hand, he’s the one that gives into the lulling draw of sleep first. Usually with quiet footsteps and whispers, a comforting squeeze of Dan’s shoulder and a question of if he’ll be okay, a promise that Dan can wake him up if he needs anything.

I promise, he’d say. Even if you just need to talk something out.

Tonight is no different. Their time in front of the TV playing games is coming to a close, a late night sneaking up on Phil in the form of sagging shoulders and not-quite muffled yawns. He’s blinking too much and coming last in races and it’s endearing, in a way, that after a day apart, he’s not quite willing to slink away to his bedroom as though everything really is normal.

But then he drives into another cow on one of the easiest courses, and Dan breaks out laughing, knocking their knees together as he comes in first.

“You should get some sleep,” he says.

Phil turns to him, fatigue foggy in his eyes, evident in his slight smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re tired,” says Dan. “Not used to staying up so late, old man.”

Phil shoves him for that, laughing through his fatigue. But it falls quiet in a moment, with eyes locked and smiles tentative and his hand still pressed to Dan’s shoulder. To a lull of easy companionship laced with lingering concern and that sparkle that shines in the back of his eyes whenever he looks at Dan.

He swallows. Dan’s holding his breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His response is a nod, a grin. “I’m great, Phil.”

“Okay.” It’s still laced with doubt, but Phil’s nodding and smiling. “You can wake me up if you need anything, even if it’s just someone to talk to.”

Dan’s smile widens, crinkles the corners of his eyes because this is normal. And soft and warm and weighted with meaning and it’s great. He’s doing great.

And then Phil’s squeezing his shoulder and pushing himself off the couch and walking away.

---

There’s a voice in his head reminding him that he might be wrong.

But there’s a smile on his face, because he has a plan to prove that he isn’t.

---

He waits a few hours, spends them scrolling tumblr, watching YouTube videos without any attention on his laptop’s screen. Waits until he’s sure Phil has been asleep for a while and the universe should know that it can drop a rose on his bedside as he dreams, without him being there to see it.

His heart is racing, gaze flicking between his dashboard and the time as though some five minute interval will make the difference.

As though waiting will make it more likely that he’s right.

He’s scared now. Anxious like he was this morning when his rose was a threat to the life he’s worked so hard to build, because it suddenly feels like Phil’s possible rose is even more dangerous. Its thorns sharper to match more vibrant petals of red, in his imagination.

Its presence feels almost necessary now.

Because Dan’s mind keeps drifting to nights spent watching TV together, that could be spent in each other’s arms. And how the sound of Phil’s heartbeat under his ear would probably calm him down when he needs it. And how this relationship they have is something he’s pretty sure he’ll never find with anyone else, no matter what.

How he doesn’t want this with anyone else.

He glances at the clock again.

3:49.

And he stands.

---

The first rose came the day after a Skype call.

Dan remembers it now.

They’d spent the night before staring at pixelated images of each other’s faces. It had been their second Skype call, full of nervous laughter and hiding behind their hands and rosy cheeks Dan had hoped wouldn’t show over his shitty webcam and equally terrible internet.

Dan had been shy and giggly, his feelings maybe a tad more than friendly at the time. He’d tugged at his t-shirt and fixed his fringe and spoken in whispers in part so his family wouldn’t hear and in part because he still couldn’t quite believe it was real.

He’d been Skyping Phil.

And Phil had been warm and kind and a little shy and he made it so easy. He would stutter and stumble over his words, and Dan would giggle because it was cute and made him feel a little less bad for his own nerves. Phil was dark hair and pale skin in the dim lighting of his bedroom, and smiles and stories as wide and happy as Dan had ever seen.

It’s a wonder, in retrospect, that Dan never wondered if the rose was because of Phil back then.

Because their Skype call that day had ended with sleepy waves to their webcams, smiles met with promises to do it again some time.

And Phil had ended the call with a simple statement that had Dan smiling into his pillow until he fell asleep.

“I’m really glad we’re friends.”

---

He almost doesn’t do it.

Dan’s hand is one Phil’s doorknob and his heart is racing, breath caught almost painfully in his chest and he almost turns around. But there’s still a voice in his head reminding him that he might be wrong, and that if Phil gets a rose, he might not even tell Dan, and how is he supposed to know for sure otherwise?

So he forces himself to breathe, still leaning against Phil’s bedroom door.

And he pushes it open, blinking away the expanse of darkness, eyes searching for the one thing he needs to see and–

Holy fuck.

There it is.

On Phil’s nightstand.

A single red rose.

---

“Dan?”

It’s muffled with fatigue and has Dan jumping back, hitting his back against the edge of Phil’s door frame, hand knocking against the wall as he tries to rebalance himself.

Tries to find his footing in a world that has both shifted irrevocably and stayed exactly the same.

“Wha’ time s’it?” mumbles Phil, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His checkered bedspread is tangled around his legs, bright blue pyjama pants having ridden up to reveal the pale skin of his legs. His fringe is a mess, mostly pushed back into a quiff by sleep, and his eyes are still so hazy Dan can tell even in the darkness of his bedroom in the middle of the night.

“Like four or something,” he murmurs in response, because it feels wrong to not speak after barging into Phil’s room and waking him up with curses he didn’t even realize he was saying out loud.

Phil groans at that, reaching over to fumble for his glasses and then to turn on his bedside lamp.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “Do you need to talk ab–”

There’s a moment.

A flicker of silence.

Dan’s cheeks are burning, his gaze flicking between Phil and his nightstand and the familiar decorations on his walls and the plushies littered across his dresser. His heart is racing because Phil will know, right? He’ll know why the rose is there and Dan is here and it’s overwhelming in the best away.

And then Phil’s fingers are pinched around the stem of the rose, still shaky with sleep but careful, and he’s turning to Dan with eyes so bright and hopeful and shit.

He knows.

“You got a rose,” says Phil.

And his smile is one of the happiest Dan has ever seen.

---

They end up in the lounge, surrounded by white walls and shared memories and sitting on the middle cushions of the sofa with only inches apart. The light is bright and Dan can still see Phil blinking against it, wiping the remnants of sleep from his mind. His rose sits on the coffee table, as bright and beautiful as Dan first thought his yellow rose to be.

It’s less personal than Phil’s bedroom, and yet it feels like more, because on the walls are memories they had together and in the space are the ghosts of simple days with easy smiles and this thing between them that neither of them seemed to realize was there.

There’s anime breakfasts and pizza dinners and middle of the night TV marathons and afternoon gaming competitions floating at the peripheral of his mind as he stares at Phil.

“How did you know?”

Phil shrugs. His legs are tucked underneath him, elbow pressed to the back of the couch, and he lets his head fall to rest in his palm. “At first I just hoped,” he says. “I realized how I felt and felt so dumb for not seeing it sooner. But suddenly I couldn’t imagine it being anyone else, you know?”

Dan’s smile cracks across his face, knowing and happy and of course he knows. And where he thinks he should feel his chest caving in under the weight of this conversation, instead he feels light and happy, and he’s reaching over, poking at Phil’s side playfully.

Maybe it’s four am sleeplessness, the kind that makes you giddy and giggly and happy. Maybe it’s love he finally realizes has filled the empty space in his chest and made him so much happier than he ever thought he could be, that first day when the yellow rose appeared.

But he’s laughing and leaning forward and teasing. “If you're dumb for not realizing sooner, than what the hell am I?” he says. “I just realized today.”

Phil’s grin is wide and happy as he reaches forward, his hand landing on Dan’s waist, drawing him closer so Phil’s knees are pressed against Dan’s and there’s only inches between them.

It dawns on Dan then, really hits him what they’re talking about.

They’re in love.

“You’re dumber.”

Dan’s jaw drops, his gasp exaggerated and dramatic, and his hand is curling in the fabric of Phil’s shirt, meant to push him away but instead he’s leaning even closer. “You spoon.”

And goodness, he hears it now. Fondness and joy seeps from his tone and he wants to roll his eyes at himself but he’s smiling at Phil. It’s so late, the middle of the night has long since passed, a blur of video games and bickering and smiles shared as they won races. The sun will be rising soon, and in the darkness outside, brightness of their own little space, it’s so easy to get lost in it.

To be giddy with it.

To have giggles tumbling from his lips as he falls forward, head knocking against Phil’s before landing on his shoulder. Phil’s hand is still at his waist, and Dan’s is tucked next to his head at Phil’s shoulder, still wrapped around the fabric of his best friend’s shirt.

Maybe that’s why it’s so easy, he figures.

Because Phil’s his best friend, and laughing with him is instinctive, enjoying his company is ingrained into the very core of Dan’s life. Because the closeness has always been there, it’s just a little more, now, with minds less oblivious but hearts no different.

“We’re so dumb,” he says, laughter ringing in his tone.

Of course they should have realized it sooner.

But they’re wrapped in each other’s arms at four in the morning, smiling and happy and in love, and Dan’s not sure they should have.

Phil’s fingers trail along his side, drift to the base of his spine, to hold him close.

There’s something reverent in his voice, awed because now it’s real. For both of them. It’s not shocking revelations pressed together in the gaming room or pacing a bedroom with a flower in hand.

“We’re soulmates.”

---

Dan puts the roses in a vase together, because sometimes he’s sappy enough to want to see the evidence of their realization sitting in the middle of their dining room table.

Phil smiles when he sees them, drops onto the other end of the couch and turns.

“Free, or Attack on Titan?” he asks.

And that’s why it’s easy.

---

In retrospect, writing their book so late was the best idea.

[owlaholic68]

Fic Writing

Since I’ve just (almost) finished writing chapter 9 of Au-Dela/Beyond the Stars, I thought I’d do a lovely little retrospective of my writing and translating experience!

The most obvious thing is that my writing speed in French has improved dramatically. I just busted out over 1000 words today, which is not bad compared to my English writing speed, and is way better than it was when I started. 

My random thoughts on chapters I’ve written:

Chapter 1: there’s apparently an “entertainment officer” on Lucky and I have no idea why their job is important enough to be mentioned. 

Chapter 2: I literally forgot that Lily was in this fic for some reason, don’t worry, she’ll be back. Also, I imagine Arcade’s lab to be like a Studio Ghibli greenhouse/science room. 

Chapter 3: I literally don’t remember coming up with the plot for this chapter, it just happened. Also, Julie is very good friends with both Christine and Veronica, I hope that was clear. 

Chapter 4: This was like the Bachelor, but less dumb and also less romantic? Also, Arcade was supposed to be in this somewhere, I don’t know where he went. 

Chapter 5: This is where Arcade went. Sorry, man, your job sucks. Also the king does...literally nothing ever... Oh right, my big reveal! I’m not sure why I tacked it on to this chapter, but I hope it was a nice cliffhanger!

Chapter 6: This is like the Boy who Cried Wolf with all these darn fake medical emergency messages. Also, almost kissing, ugh my weakness. 

Chapter 7: This chapter was supposed to almost 4000 words long, I don’t have any idea how that happened, so I split it two bc i’m back in school next week. 

Chapter 7 part two (Chapter 8): Oooh this isn’t up yet, but it’s a lot of fun! Veronica’s in there, Christine’s in there, Dmitri gets some time in. I also wrote this to the angstiest songs for some reason?? Also, not to spoil anything, but some scenes go better when I just knock Arcade unconscious. I just like giving the man head wounds. It happened in She Packed No Star (in the last chapter he got a concussion), Silver Stars (knocked himself out while teleporting to Julie’s temple), and this chapter too! Sometimes I get stuck writing, then I knock him out and everything goes great!!!!! Sorry!!!!!

Chapter 9 (just mostly written): I learned a lot about old Moroccan (Marrakech specifically) ruins and architectural elements. It was a lot of fun. That’s all I’ll say. 

Sometimes I forget what words I’ve used, and I always have my previous chapters open. Recent example: the word “stretcher” has two different words in French, and I just jumped back to Chapter 1 to find exactly which one I’d used. I have a weirdly good memory for exact times that I’ve used certain words or phrases.

Oh, the agony of decisions concerning formality of language...Christine just started using “tu” with Lynn and I’ve just been screaming internally the whole time I’ve been writing.

WHY do I use the present participle so much?????

THANK GOODNESS I made a stylistic decision a long time ago to write in present tense, because this would have been a lot harder if I would have had to write in passé simple or in another past tense. 

Forgot the spelling of the word “emperor” in french, jotted it down in English on my document, went to go look up the word and forgot how to spell it in English, had to go back to what I’d written. I should’ve just looked at my other chapters. It was in chapter One. It would have taken half as much time.

*word* *looks up French/English equivalent* *while page is loading, I think of the right word in French/English, now I just have the dictionary page open for no reason*

“La main” or “le main”? I’ve used the word for “hand” about 30 times a chapter, still second-guess myself on the gender of the noun. 

*writes romance interlude* *interlude is longer than my normal chapters* *interlude also contains important plot elements, so it’s basically just another chapter*

I actually have to set aside specific time for romantic interactions, bc sometimes I just forget...that that’s one of my main plot elements...Also (for example) bc of plot restraints, Veronica often can’t be a big part of the other chapters (yet), so she needs a little bit of designated Lynn Interaction Time. And since this is my first time writing a poly thing, that little bit of extra relaxed time will come in handy later.

While translating into English, I go to look up a phrase. After reading the dictionary definition, I don’t like it. Then I somehow remember the exact phrase that I had wanted to say while writing it originally in French. 

Translation is great bc I know EXACTLY what the author was trying to convey, because I AM the author. 

Finds errors in my French version while translating it into English.

WHY aren’t there as many descriptive words for saying things different ways in French? Ughhhhhh there’s basically no difference between scream/yell/shout/say loudly/squeal/squeak, they’re all just “crier/hurler”

WHY do I have all these weird sentences that are just “she stood up.” Why did I feel like I needed to write these in French? 

stuff that sounds better in French

stuff that sounds better in English

stuff that doesn’t sound good in either

I have to translate right at the end, bc otherwise I’ll change/add things in my French draft that I then have to go change/add in my English one and it’s a huge pain

PRONOUNS. Example: Technically Dmitri should use the feminine “elle” because the word for plant is feminine, but he of course uses “il” which I’m not sure exactly conveys that Arcade is saying “he” not “it”???? Also Arcade uses “tu” with Dmitri, fyi.

Also PRONOUNS between all these women are killing me.

Speaking of Dmitri, I have no idea why I picked that name. I think I looked up French nature-related names, and something similar to that came up? I just really like the name. 

I either write a whole paragraph without looking up a single word, or I have to look up every word in a single sentence. The former results in fast writing of quick-action scenes that I go back and edit, the latter makes for some lovely poetic descriptions. 

Lynn is always hesitating for some reason. She’s also making lots of eye contact too. Julie is always smiling. Christine is always showing lots of nonverbal affection. Arcade always has something in his hands. 

Speaking of Christine, I did toy with the idea of making her unable to speak, but ultimately forgot about it and dropped the idea within 0.5 seconds of writing Christine dialogue. I don’t regret it one bit. 

The king was supposed to be House?? And now he’s not, but he still kind of is?? Oh well I don’t care about him anymore...

I had the first story arc mapped out pretty detailed, this second one is going to be about 95% done on the fly, I pretty much just know what’s going to happen at the end. It’s going to be very character driven. There’s going to be an overarching plot with Star-Trek-style episodes thrown in.

I can’t decide what the ship’s hierarchy is?? Definitely (in order): the king, Lynn, Julie, and then I think Christine and Boone, then Fantastic and Reyes, then other minor officers? 

Somehow tropes from Silver Stars (Greek Mythology AU) are trying to creep into this story. One Big One is coming in Chapter 9 that I kept bc it still feels right, but I realized halfway through that this particular story element is kind of familiar. There’s also a lot of mentions of stars and the night sky that I don’t know why I’m still using in this fic, but it does still paint a very lovely picture. 

I’m definitely describing a lot more in french, but also describing things less in some ways. Sometimes I go to translate certain parts, and I’m shocked by how little time I spent describing scenery. But other times, I realize that I’ve gone into detail about the diplomatic structure of peace treaties in my AU. 

Uhhhhh a lot of times I write fic on my phone, and I just can’t do that with this, because I always need at least one dictionary tab open, and usually another couple tabs with music or research. However, it’s easier for me to edit my French drafts on my phone because I have a french keyboard option, which I can’t get a handle on on my desktop. 

I try to listen to French music when I write in French, but anything’s fair game when I’m translating. I always come up with ideas when I’m in my car listening to either Bob Dylan songs or Woodie Guthrie protest/pro-union anthems. 

I can’t believe I’ve written so much, and I’m still probably just under halfway through (if even). Also, I can’t believe that I’ve actually have consistent updates of decent lengths, every single week! This fic has been so much fun to write and translate, and has definitely been the slowest burn romance I’ve ever written!

I hope that everyone reading has enjoyed reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing! 

[rachelbethhines]

The Antoine and Bunnie Retrospective - 135

“No Where to Run” - Songoose I - Sonic the Hedgehog #153 

We open up with the Freedom Fighters doing some training with General D’Coolette as their coach. Sally’s there too, to oversee things, and she has this chat with Armand while there. 

So several things are going on here. Both Sonic and Antoine are being blamed for the behavior of their evil counterparts. (though honestly, Scourge’s flirting didn’t harm the last mission at all. None of the girls broke out into a fight or anything, and to be frank, the personal relationships of your team mates really aren’t any of your damn business Sally) However, Armand, blames himself for “Antoine’s” sudden change in behavior; thinking that the pressures of war and living in the shadow of a hero might have pushed him over the edge. It’s a poignant and ironic insight, and not just because we all know “Antoine” is really Patch. No it’s ironic because we have seen the real Antoine’s response to war and living in his dad’s shadow. It’s not cold, harsh, and standoffish behavior, rather it was arrogance and fearful cowering. But Armand wouldn’t know this about his son because he was reunited with him after all of his character development. 

It’s also interesting to find out that Armand use to ship Sally and Antoine. Though one has to wonder why. Did Max inform him about the Source of All’s vision? Or was it merely a folly he had when they were both small kids? Like how adults do when they pretend about the life their children will have when they’re grown. Or did he genuinely see something between them and thought they would be good together? It’s telling that he claims that it is Antoine who is not right for Sally. Not that she is wrong for him or that they mutually might not be suited to each other. It kind of implies that it’s Patch he’s really talking about here, and that before the sudden change, he really did believe they would make a good couple. 

However Armand is a stand up guy who, unlike Max, doesn’t threaten or belittle his children into complying to his wishes. Nor does he treat his son’s actual chosen significant other as being beneath him. Armand’s always been supportive of Bunnie and Antoine, no matter what his feelings of Sally may have been. And he even apologizes! He sincerely asks for Sally’s forgiveness for ever unintentionally putting pressure on either her or Antoine, despite the fact that he never ever did such a thing at all. Can Armand just be Sally’s new father now? Please! He’d be so much better then Max. 

Speaking of the devil, Max and Alicia interpret them with a phone call. 

Ok, so both Armand and Max have fallen ill, at the same time, with similar symptoms. And we know it’s not anything contagious because no one else has caught it. And Dr. Quack just thinks it’s some bullshit thing that happened long, long ago from the first war? 

If it was radiation pensioning from like a bomb or a byproduct of chemical warfare then wouldn’t there be others coming down with it? Like Bernie, Chuck, or even Quack himself as they all would have fought in that same war. Probably in the very same battles. Also why would this “poison” only take effect so many many years later? Wouldn't a more recent poisoning be the logical answer here? 

Look I’m not saying everyone should immediately suspect Patch. We the audience know damn well he’s behind this. But of course the characters still believe him to be Antoine, and well Antoine would never harm his father nor betray the crown. But it is rather convenient that nobody even entertains the idea that there might be foul play afoot somewhere and that there isn’t any investigation launched at all. 

But intrigue will have to wait, because Armand soon collapses. 

And of course the only person who suspects anything is wrong is Bunnie. 

I mean you would think something like you’re dad dying might cause a bit of concern from your friends. Especially if you’ve completely emotionally shut down, which is a sign of denial and a stage of grief. But nope, they all decide to go to a concert instead of checking up on “Antoine” personally. 

This leads into the much less interesting main story for this arc. Eggman wants Mina dead for petty reasons and hires Nack to assassinate her. Oh and more dumb relationship drama that should have been done with ages ago. 

But at least Bunnie gets to do something useful and puts out a fire. 

The second story this issue involves yet another AU tale where this time the cast are in a fantasy medieval setting, and really it’s just an excuse to write and draw the characters as their pre-development selves.  It’s a pointless, yet simi-fun throwback, that I personally wouldn’t mind if only one small niggle. 

Rosie is the one narrating this story. 

And she casts Antoine as a jester or the comic relief if you will. Which makes sense from a meta stand point, and if this was a Zone Wars story that would be fine. But here? 

Rosie is Antoine’s adoptive mother. She raised him for ten years after he lost both his parents. She’s basically calling her own son an idiot! 

Does no one working on this damn comic understand Rosie’s character and her relationships with the rest of the Freedom Fighters? 

I’m sorry, but everyone ignoring Rosie’s role and importance with in the comic is something that really bothers me. It’s such a waste of potential that’s never been fully explored even in the reboot. 

Gee, it’s almost like those are legitimate criticisms that’s been thrown at the comic before and instead of learning from them and growing as an artist you gave everybody the middle finger instead just to protect you’re own fragile ego.

No I’m not bitter, why you’d ask? 

[inversekaon]

[fic] Like Ships in the Night (3)

Fandom: Yugioh Zexal Paring: V/Gauche, background Mizael/Kaito Rating: T Wordcount: ~7000 dreamwidth link AO3 link

Soulmates AU. Fate would always ensure that soulmates found each other. Even if it had to try again…and again…and again…and again…

~*~*~*~*~

Like Ships in the Night Part 3 // In Consort

Do you like me? Those words kept on echoing in his mind—even more than the words scrawled on his arm—and while he hadn't been completely sure of his answer at the time, he'd become quite sure of it over the past week. "Of course I do," Chris muttered to himself as he scrolled through his collection of videos of Gauche dueling. He selected one he hadn't watched yet, and then promptly tuned out as he waited for Gauche to appear, rather than his opponent. Now that he knew for sure it was him—now that he felt like he was allowed to like him because he wouldn't be falling for someone else's soulmate (again)—he could say with absolutely certainty that he liked Gauche and was attracted to Gauche and he had been for quite a while now. Maybe it had even started back when Gauche had demanded a duel from him, or maybe it had only been after Gauche had gotten to his feet after the first duel and immediately demanded a second. He couldn't say for sure when he'd started liking him. But he could pinpoint exactly when he'd first realized he was attracted to the man. There had been one afternoon when Gauche had been slow to get up after losing a duel, when he'd pushed himself up on his elbows and lay there with his knees bent and legs spread and looked up at him like he was daring him to do something....Chris had had to turn away very fast to keep from staring at him too long, and he had had more than one dream since then with Gauche sprawled the same way in his bed. He had, of course, thought of Gauche as attractive before then, but it was only then that he knew how attracted he was personally and wouldn't mind doing something about it. Then he hadn't. Because Gauche might have been better off with someone else, he he didn't want to get in the way of that. And he didn't look up their duel either, because maybe that phrase on his arm wasn't exactly right, but as long as he didn't know for sure, he could still have some hope that it was. He didn't want to know for sure until he was sure in his heart that Gauche was the right one after all. Thankfully, the advertisements for the tournament had made that decision for him. Otherwise, he might never have checked. The video ended and Chris scrolled through for another one. As a Pro Duelist, Gauche had quite a lot of videos of his duels out there, although Chris had been somewhat reluctant to watch them until now. He had been content with dueling Gauche himself a few times a week. Gauche had suggested they wait until the tournament to duel again, however, since it would only be a couple weeks, so Chris had to content himself with watching his duels with other people instead. ...In retrospect, he probably should have just accepted Gauche was the one as soon as he started rearranging his schedule to spend more time with him. ...Which had been quite a bit earlier than when he'd received that beautiful vision of Gauche on his back. ...Kaito had almost certainly been thinking it as soon as Gauche had texted him that first time. Hopefully, Kaito wouldn't say so once Chris actually told him they'd figured it out. Even Gauche couldn't make up for an utterly lackluster opponent, though. He liked Gauche quite a lot, but it was the Gauche who never backed down and fought passionately to the end that he liked most, and while he was politely keeping a smile on his face, Gauche just had no need to fight so hard in this particular duel. Chris closed out of the video and looked for another one. He settled on Gauche's duel with Yuma from the last WDC. Even though this upcoming tournament was actually mostly his own idea, and the holoscreens around the city advertising it used all the footage they could from the previous one, Chris didn't have anything to do with putting together the advertisements so there was plenty of footage from the WDC that he hadn't seen. Like this duel, for instance. He probably should have watched it by now, though; a duel against Yuma was sure to bring out the passionate Gauche he'd come to enjoy so much. ...Of course, he also had to put up with listening to Mr. Heartland every now and then. Chris's eye twitched a little as the man's grating voice introduced the field and the players. Mr. Heartland had played no small part in why he'd avoided watching any of the WDC for so long. Then his eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward in his seat. Gauche had just stood up on his Duel Coaster and turned around to face Yuma head on. Of course, it was a very Gauche-like thing to do that. If anyone else was going to do that, it would be him. But it still caught him by surprise. Chris had thought he'd been the only one who had done something that reckless. And he'd only done it once. But not only had Gauche stood up right from the start, he seemed determined to get back up and keep standing any time he was knocked down as the duel progressed. No wonder he had been so excited to hear they would be using the Duel Coasters again; he seemed to have had quite a lot of fun last time. Chris smiled a little as Gauche replenished Yuma's lifepoints to make it a fair fight. But Yuma didn't seem to be giving him the fight he wanted. Gauche slowly grew more and more frustrated until he finally snapped. "That was such a cheap attack! I don't....I don't wanna have such a lame duel with you!" Chris paused the video and stared out the window. What had set him off had been Yuma dealing him effect damage while smoothly avoiding taking any damage himself—exactly the way Chris preferred to play. Yuma's tactics were quite good, but they were tactics Gauche hated to play against. It wasn't as though Chris hadn't noticed that from the beginning. He was still amazed, even now, that Gauche hadn't just walked away after a handful of duels like that, and watching this exchange only rekindled that feeling. Granted, Gauche had only ever seemed frustrated by their duels and not like he'd hated them, and he did always come back for more but...he really hadn't seemed as happy to duel Chris as he had those handful of times when Chris switched to a more straightforward deck and playing style. His fingers tapped absently on the tablet in his lap. It really wasn't the way he preferred to duel...but if it got Gauche to smile like that again...and there was nothing saying he had to duel that way always from now on... Chris unpaused the video, and his chest felt tight every time Gauche's grinning face appeared on the screen, but he was too lost in thought to pay much attention to anything else. ~*~*~*~*~ Gauche made his way through the familiar halls of Heartland Tower with a single-minded purpose. As he reached the room where he'd been told he could find Kaito and his guest, the doors slid open and the two of them walked out. Whatever conversation they had been having died as soon as Kaito had to stop short to keep from walking right into Gauche. "What are you doing here?" Kaito asked in surprise. Gauche ignored him. He wasn't the one he was here to see. "You're Mizael, right?" Gauche asked, looking pointedly at the boy next to Kaito. He only knew the blond in passing, but this was where Alit had said he would be, and he did look familiar now that he was standing in front of him. "My name's Gauche. Can I talk to you?" Mizael and Kaito glanced at each other, and then gave him identical looks of confusion. "About what?" Mizael asked. "V—er, Chris Arclight." He wasn't sure which name Mizael would be more familiar with. V hadn't ever corrected him, but he seemed to be using his real name just as much these days. "You're the one who dueled him back when...you know. Right? Can you tell me about it?" Gauche had spent most of the last week or so trying to learn more about V without having to resort to asking his brothers or Kaito, who he didn't like and might give something away. It hadn't gone particularly well. During the WDC, the only duel that had been recorded in full had been his own duel with Yuma. There was absolutely nothing of V's duel with Kaito. He couldn't find any evidence that V had participated in any duels before the semi-finals either, which had him seriously wondering if he'd even earned his Heart Pieces himself. (If he'd known about that at the time, he definitely would have had something done about that. But V had obviously been qualified, so he couldn't bring himself to be too annoyed about it now.) In fact, the only footage Gauche could find of his dueling was from the Duel Coasters part of the tournament, and there still wasn't much of that, since there had been so many of them for the cameras to focus on. Gauche was more than familiar with his dueling and attitude from that time anyway. He had finally resorted to talking to Yuma and his friend Kotori about it—which turned out to be the best decision he could have made, because Yuma and Kotori seemed to have been there for every duel and almost every event that had happened over those handful of months. Yuma very enthusiastically told him all about V's duel with Kaito—and about V and Tron's surprise history with Yuma's father and why they hated Dr. Faker so much. (Kotori had been reluctant to share that bit, but Yuma was already halfway through the story before she could even try to say anything.) And Yuma had very enthusiastically told him all about V and his family's contributions to the fight against the Barians. That they had been keeping an eye on what was going on, so they could step in to protect Yuma if he needed it. That Yuma had briefly lost the Original Numbers, but V and Kaito had built a portal to the Astral World to save him, and then dueled one of the Barians together to make sure Yuma could leave safely. That V had taken charge once the Seven Barian Emperors had appeared, keeping Yuma out of their hands while everyone else tried to defeat them. That after the death of their brother, V and III had thrown themselves into the fray to give Yuma time to escape to the Barian World to try to end things with Don Thousand directly. Unfortunately, Yuma had only seen the very end of that duel, and he couldn't seem to describe what had happened without stumbling over his words. Gauche had decided that rather than force him to live through it again, he might as well just go and ask the Barian they had dueled directly. He'd have to talk to Mizael about the rest of the duel anyway. Mizael crossed his arms and eyed him with a frown. "I suppose. Why?" "He's...my soulmate," Gauche said. That still didn't feel quite real, even a week later. "I want to know more about him." "I knew it," Kaito said with a smirk. "Oh?" Mizael's shoulders relaxed somewhat, and he even had the hint of a smile. "Congratulations. He's a fine human; I would have been honored to have him as my soulmate." Gauche's eyebrows shot up. "That's a pretty high opinion you've got there." Kaito feeling that way he would have expected, but he didn't really expect that from anyone else. "Indeed," Mizael said, and then said nothing else to elaborate on it. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and added, "If you want to know about Christopher, wouldn't it be better to ask his brothers? Michael could tell you about our duel as easily as I can." "I want to hear it from someone less biased," Gauche said. Or less biased in V's favor, anyway. Though from the sound of it, Mizael really might not be super biased in his own favor either. "Hmm," was all Mizael said to that, but he did look marginally more approving. "Well, it might take a while to go through all of it. Do you want to go somewhere...?" "You guys can talk about it in my apartment," Kaito said, gesturing vaguely upwards. "We were about to head up there anyway." Mizael's cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink, but he nodded to Kaito and sent Gauche a questioning look. Gauche shrugged and gestured for Kaito to lead the way. Gauche had been in Kaito's apartment a handful of time while he'd still been working for Mr. Heartland. It had been vast and utterly lifeless then, with only the bare minimum of furnishings to make it seem like someone lived there. He had also lived there by himself. Dr. Faker and Mr. Heartland let him spend as much time as he wanted visiting his brother, but Haruto had not been allowed to live with him. It was too dangerous, they had said. They were all just tools, was what they had meant. The apartment Kaito led them to now was completely different. It was slightly smaller, for one thing, a more appropriate size for one or two or even three people, and there was more than one piece of furniture. And there were also toys and papers and books scattered about, evidence that not only was Haruto living with him again, so was Dr. Faker. Luckily, it seemed neither of them was here right now. Gauche had to wonder how much time Kaito actually spent here, how much he had actually been able to forgive his father for the shit he'd put Haruto through, or if this effort had been mostly led by Haruto himself. Once they had settled in the living room with the tea Orbital 7 had been threatened into making for them, Mizael finally began his story. He seemed to have been thinking about what he was going to say the whole way up here. "It was after we had all defeated that first group of duelists protecting Tsukumo Yuma," Mizael said with a slight nod toward Gauche. "While I was searching for Yuma and Kaito, I came across Christopher and Michael instead. They had been waiting to intercept us—to intercept me, in particular. They goaded me into a duel for Yuma and Kaito's locations. Christopher even mentioned he had been Kaito's mentor. He knew I would never refuse after hearing that...." Mizael covered the duel itself with excruciating detail, which Gauche found interesting—because he never had gotten to fight against any of the Arclights' aces while they still had them—but not as interesting as the overall picture of it and all the other little details he slipped in. Like that V and III had absolutely done their research and gone into that duel prepared to shut down the Barians' trump card with alarming ease. That the Arclights had their own unique Rank Up Magic card. How the heck had that happened? Then Kaito had interjected that V had made it for them, and Gauche was even more impressed and disgruntled. That guy was really out there making his own cards?? And that wasn't exactly a standard card either; it had to have had some weird powers to it. That V and III had also been prepared to trap any and all Barians who came their way, to keep as many of them occupied and away from Yuma as possible. V was still wearing that bracelet of his even now; he wondered if it had any of that power left. Next time they met, he'd have to ask. That V and III were even more annoyingly competent fighting together than V was by himself, and Gauche was disappointed he couldn't have faced their Numbers but also somewhat relieved they were gone now. And also that no matter how scarily good they were, Mizael was even more so. "Before I could deal the final blow, we all saw a star streaking through the sky. It was Kaito, heading to the moon." Mizael glanced over at Kaito, who was watching him like he didn't already know this, like Mizael hadn't just said the most astonishing thing yet. "They seemed to have been waiting for that timing. Christopher called up Yuma so he could see what was happening, and so he could speak with both of us. "The key needed for the Numeron Code was on the moon. It needed specific Numbers for it be released—namely, mine and Kaito's. Christopher and Michael had been stalling for time while Kaito left for the moon, so he would be sure to make it there without anyone stopping him and accidentally ruining everything." "And for Yuma to get to the Barian World," Kaito added. "And that. But that wasn't as important," Mizael said. Kaito rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched into a smile too. "Anyway, the important thing is that they sacrificed themselves to give us time to escape," Kaito said quietly. "Yes," Mizael said, turning back to Gauche. "But it was more than that. I've thought about this a lot since then—and I've spoken to Christopher about it as well, and he didn't deny it....The Numbers required to summon Numeron Dragon were mine and Kaito's. It had to be the two of us, in that place on the moon, for it to work the right way. Christopher and Michael...couldn't have won that duel, and they challenged me knowing that." Gauche stared at him for a minute, still trying to wrap his brain around everything that had just been thrown at him. V and III...had started that duel just to stall for time, knowing that they wouldn't be allowed to win it? They'd challenged Mizael...knowing they weren't going to walk away from it? Not because of a lack of skill, but because that was the way it had to be... He suddenly wished V was here with them, or he was wherever V was, so he could drag him off and show him exactly how he felt about that for several hours. "Did they throw it?" Gauche asked finally, his fingers digging into the couch cushions. He didn't think they would have—that V would have done something like that, but if they absolutely had to lose... Mizael pursed his lips with displeasure for the very idea. "No. Nothing like that. They fought me with everything they had. It was simply with the knowledge that fate would not be on their side." He paused and glanced thoughtfully over at Kaito. "Although Christopher probably did have a contingency plan, in case they did actually beat me. That would be like him." "He was going to come duel me himself, if he had to," Kaito said. "We had a suit and stuff ready—" Mizael snorted lightly. "You would have both ended up dead." "Probably," Kaito said with a shrug. "What Chris was really hoping for was that he'd find one of the other Barians first—Durbe maybe—and you'd find them and then he could beat them and survive and tell you where you were supposed to go. But I know he also really wanted a chance to duel you, so I don't think he was unhappy with how things worked out." "I want to duel you," Gauche blurted out. Sure, Mizael didn't have his stupidly overpowered Numbers anymore, but he'd undoubtedly be a challenge even without it. What he'd just told them about his duel with V and III made that clear enough. Mizael smirked and took a sip of his tea. "Find me at the tournament, then. I'd be honored to duel any one of you." ~*~*~*~*~ The morning of the Heartland Limited Carnival dawned clear and bright, but chilly. By mid-morning, the Duel Coaster Stadium was filled with the dull background roar of thousands of excited voices from the packed stands, and the day was shaping up to be one of the warmest of the week—which meant it was comfortable just standing there, but they were all sure to be freezing once they were speeding along the Duel Coaster track. Gauche absently adjusted his fingerless gloves and his feathered collar as he stood there in the center of the stadium with the other contestants. Since it had only been about eight months since the WDC, it was barely spring and some chilly days couldn't be helped, but it was certainly going to help to make things interesting later. It was nice that his favorite coat was already decently warm. The floating platform MR. Heartland had once used suddenly shot into the air for the new MC to announce the beginning of the tournament. Gauche glanced up briefly at the giant hologram of the man and shook his head a little. V had said he'd been concerned that Nico Smiley would be similar to Mr. Heartland in all the wrong ways, and it was easy to see why; the man looked like if Charlie Chaplin had decided to dress like a bee and become a sleazy used car salesman, and his mannerisms were just as wildly theatrical as Mr. Heartland's had been. Still, when Gauche had met him at the banquet last night, Smiley had seemed like a genuinely decent person, just a very enthusiastic one. He'd eagerly congratulated him on his win in the Spartan City tournament, even though it had been months ago, and he'd spent several minutes chatting with Droite about the nitty-gritty details of managing a Pro Duelist. Speaking of the banquet...Gauche frowned and scanned the crowd on the field, searching through the other contestants, the attendants, and the torrential downpour of confetti. The banquet had been considerably more relaxed than the one before the WDC had been, since all of the contestants either knew each other or knew Yuma, but Gauche had felt much the same frustration, as there had been one person in particular that he had never managed to catch up with no matter how many times his silver hair flashed from across the room. Gauche finally spotted V standing almost at the end of the line of Duel Coasters, chatting with Mizael while Kaito leaned against one of the coaster cars nearby. V glanced up briefly, but he only waved his hand once and then turned his attention right back to Mizael and Kaito. It wasn't quite a dismissal, but it sure was close enough to be annoying. Gauche scowled and started picking his way through the thin crowd to give V no other option but to pay attention to him for a minute. Then he stopped as he noticed Kaito making his way across the field towards him. "Why is he avoiding me?" Gauche demanded as soon as Kaito was close enough. He should just go over there and ask V himself, but if Kaito had been sent over here, there was probably a reason. Kaito raised an eyebrow. "Who said he was avoiding you?" Nevermind. Gauche was going to march over there anyway. "Wait, wait," Kaito said, grabbing his arm before he could get too far. "Okay, he is. But he asked me to tell you to wait a little longer. He won't keep avoiding you once we're all dueling." "Why?" "You think if I knew, I wouldn't tell you? It'd serve him right. I'm not his errand boy," Kaito said with a sideways glance back at V, though there wasn't any real venom behind it. Gauche conceded the point with a shrug and also looked back up at V. Mizael was still there, but he seemed to be talking to Tron now, while V's attention had moved on to his brothers. Even from here, Gauche could see the smile on his face while he listened to whatever III was so enthusiastically telling him. Perhaps it was just excitement over being here in the first place; III had been the only one of them who hadn't taken part in this bit last time, even though it was impossible he didn't have a full Heart Piece like the rest of his family. It was a scene he would have been hesitant to interrupt even if V didn't have that charming smile on his face. Unfortunately, someone else decided to interrupt it for him, as Smiley announced that it was time for everyone to get into place to officially begin the tournament. Kaito lifted his hand in a wave and walked off, heading back toward the group at the end of the row and the coaster car he'd already claimed for himself. Gauche snuck one last glance at V gracefully leaping into a blue car, and then he jumped over the back and into the seat of a nearby red one. He was already placing the completed Heart Piece he'd received with his official invitation into its place by the time Smiley even got to that part of his preprepared speech. After all, it wasn't like Gauche hadn't done this once before; he knew how this worked. He barely glanced over the course map that popped up—just enough to check where the Trap Points were, so he could avoid them. Smiley started counting down. Finally. Gauche grabbed on to the joystick and leaned forward. "—Three! Two! One! Fire!" Gauche slammed the joystick forward. His coaster car shot out at the front of the pack, around the loop, and out onto the course. He made short work of the first person to challenge him, some friend of Yuma's who he only vaguely recognized. The kid seemed just as happy to be dueling him as he was to be here in the first place, so he didn't feel too bad about knocking him out so early. Maybe later, he'd go find that kid and give him an autograph or something. He didn't see anyone else for a while after that, except for from a distance on some other track. The Duel Coasters were fun and a pretty unique idea, but since they were so spread out, they did make it more of a challenge to actually come across any of the other duelists. Of course, that was part of the fun, but it also meant a lot of time to just think and strategize, and of course, his thoughts very quickly drifted to V and what he might be doing. Was V expecting Gauche to go find him? Was he planning on finding Gauche instead? Was it too early to go find him? It would be fun, dueling him like this again, but it might also be fun to try to get all the way to one of the arenas with him and duel him there. Maybe he could even lead V to the Canyon Field where he'd dueled Yuma last time—although if V had gone back to his preferred deck, he wouldn't be summoning many monsters, so he wouldn't be affected much by the field's penalty— "Gauche!" Gauche's heart skipped a beat. He spun around in his seat. Behind him, swiftly catching up with his car on the same track, was a blue coaster car. The one belonging to V, who stood proudly with one foot on each seat, his hair whipping in the wind behind him like a silver pennant. Gauche had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. "There you are!" V called out. He brought his duel disk up and bent his knees slightly. "We've got a good mood right here. Gauche, I challenge you!" It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close enough and he knew exactly what he needed to say in return. Gauche scrambled to his feet, grinning from ear to ear as he climbed on top of his car and raised his duel disk. "Heh, you want to fight me? Bring it on!" "You’re both idiots!" Kaito yelled at them as he passed by on a lower track. Gauche could barely hear him over the wind rushing past his head and his heart beating wildly in his ears. To his delight, V's deck was a new one, and he was more than willing to use more straightforward tactics today too. Gauche could tell there was more to the deck than that—that it was probably similar to his first deck in having two mostly different strategies built in—but that just made it feel even more meaningful that V had chosen to save his annoying Burn and Negation effects until he was facing someone else. Right now, V was giving him exactly the kind of duel he loved. Maybe he could make it up to him later by not complaining so much when V switched back to the tactics he loved. Maybe. Of course, just because it wasn't the style V preferred, it didn't mean he wasn't good at it, and he'd learned from his mistakes from the last time they had dueled and he'd lost. He wasn't about to lose today. Very soon, Gauche found himself facing down the final attack with nothing left to defend himself and not enough lifepoints to get through it. "Wait," he said, throwing up a hand, before V could declare his last attack. V hesitated but dropped his own hand, waiting patiently to see what he wanted. Gauche frowned down at the cards in his hand, not really seeing them. What he wanted was for this not to end yet. Not his time in the tournament, exactly, but this time with V. All he'd wanted for the past few days was to be with V again, and now he had it, but as soon as V declared that last attack, Gauche would be rocketed off into the sky to spend the rest of the tournament watching from the stands. Sure, they could see each other again tonight, but tonight wasn't now. "...More than I thought I would," Gauche murmured and chuckled at himself. It was hard to believe he'd been so unsure about his feelings for V a couple weeks ago, when now all he wanted was to remain at his side. He glanced up at V and was suddenly struck by an idea. A fantastic, exhilarating, ridiculously stupid idea. If V didn't yell at him for it, it'd be more than he deserved. Gauche carefully knelt down to grab the throttle and slow his coaster car down a bit. V frowned but also hurried to slow his car down, ending up right on Gauche's tail but not in danger of crashing into him. Gauche grinned at him as he stood up again and dropped his arm, nodding that it was fine to go ahead with the attack. V frowned at him for another moment. He raised his hand and declared his last attack. Gauche jumped. ~*~*~*~*~ One moment, Chris was wondering what on earth Gauche was planning. He would just have to wait and see, he supposed, as he declared the attack that would drop Gauche's lifepoints down to zero. The next moment, he was watching his attack go through, and then Gauche jumped off the back of his coaster car— And the next, he was on his back, looking up into Gauche's grinning face. Gauche was sprawled on top of him, and the track was still whizzing along below them, a constant reminder of just how fast they were still going. Distantly, he saw the seat of Gauche's coaster car fly off into the air without him. Distantly, he thought he could hear the stadium explode with noise, although he was sure they couldn't hear the stadium from here. Distantly, he could feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest and his pants seemed to have suddenly gotten tighter and the words on his arm might have been tingling. The next moment, he wasn't staring up at Gauche's grinning face anymore, because Gauche was kissing him instead. Chris's eyes slipped shut, and he grabbed onto Gauche's fluffy collar as he kissed back, trying to make it clear what a stupid thing that had been through sheer force of lips and desperate clutching hands alone. If Gauche instead got the impression that he was desperate for something else, well, that was also true. "Ha, you should have seen your face," Gauche murmured against his lips. Chris shoved him back just enough to scowl at him. "You idiot," he hissed. "What the hell were you thinking?! What am I supposed to do if—" He decided not to finish that sentence and jerked Gauche down into another kiss instead. He could feel his eyes grow warm just at the thought of what could have happened if Gauche had missed, especially now that his initial shock had faded and the echoes of that panic were crashing down on him. He was an idiot and an imbecile and Chris could no longer think of a future that didn't have him in it. If he'd ended up falling... Well, for one thing, Chris would have blamed himself for the rest of his life for encouraging that stupid risk-taking behavior. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Gauche said after a minute, but at least now he had the decency to sound ashamed. But only briefly, because then he grinned and shifted a bit in Chris's lap and said, "Seems like you didn't hate it that much, V." Chris bit his lip to keep himself from doing something stupid, like kicking him off or grinding against his hip. "Get off," he muttered instead. "I still have a tournament to win." "Yeah, yeah." Gauche carefully rolled over and slid down into the second seat of the car. "You'd better win it, 'cause now you're playing for both of us. That was pretty mean, you know. You couldn't've waited to knock me out 'til we were Underground, at least?" Chris took a moment to collect himself before he sat up and slid down into his seat beside him. "I couldn't wait that long to see you," he murmured. "Next time." Gauche snorted lightly. "That's your fault. You could've come and found me last night. I was looking for you." "If I had found you last night, we would never have made it back to the party," Chris said, determinedly keeping his eyes on the track in front of him and not anywhere near Gauche. His throat felt very dry just saying that. Gauche chuckled and placed a hand on his thigh as his leaned over to murmur closer to his ear, "Oh, so you picked a time when we had to behave instead, huh? How responsible, V." Chris tensed and glanced over at him and that cheeky grin on his ridiculously handsome face. He was right, of course; Chris did not trust himself to keep his hands to himself at this point if they were anywhere more private. But rather than say so—again—he grabbed Gauche's collar and tugged him into another kiss. Gauche made a faint noise and cupped the back of Chris's head with his hand as he enthusiastically kissed back. His fingers sank into Chris's hair and curled against his scalp, and Chris had to fight back a moan of his own. Maybe he should have just gone and found Gauche last night. He'd been somewhat nervous that Gauche was going to turn him down—even after Kaito had mentioned that Gauche had been asking about him—so he'd wanted to give Gauche the opportunity to cut ties in public and not feel pressured into accepting their bond, but it would seem he'd had nothing to worry about. Gauche's answer after all that thinking was obviously the same as his. And they could have spent all night repeating that answer over and over. Oh well. It wasn't like last night was the only night they ever could have had. Tonight would be just as acceptable. "It's Chris," he murmured as he finally pulled away. Gauche stared at him, looking bewildered. "Huh?" "You don't have to keep calling me 'V'. You can call me Chris. V is...not someone I want to be with you." Gauche stared at him for another moment, still looking somewhat bemused. Then he grinned and leaned in for one more quick peck. "Good. Chris suits you better," he said against Chris's lips. Then he fell back into his seat and pointed dramatically forward. "All right, Chris, let's go win a tournament!" Chris rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile a little as he pushed the joystick forward, urging the coaster car to catch up with the rest of the contestants. "Of course." ~*~*~*~*~ When they glided into the Space Field some time later, someone was already there waiting for them: Mizael...and Kaito. Chris immediately turned the joystick to take them back out. "Oh, we'll find somewhere else. Don't let us interrupt you—" "Wait, Chris—" Kaito called before they could get anywhere. "I'm not here to duel. I'm just a spectator like him," he said, gesturing at Gauche. Chris glanced over at Gauche. He looked just as surprised as Chris felt. Chris shrugged and pulled the coaster car to a stop so they could both jump down. If that was the case, then there was no reason to leave, though he was having trouble believing it. "You lost already?" Chris asked as they walked across the field to where Mizael and Kaito were waiting. Kaito scowled and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "This guy couldn't wait and demanded a duel before we even got to the Underground. Kinda like someone else I know." Mizael flipped his hair back from his shoulder. "What's the fun in waiting until we're here? We duel like this all the time. Isn't the point of today to have fun with those rolling coasters?" He glanced over at Gauche and finally looked a tiny bit apologetic as he added, "Looks like you couldn't find me in time. That's a shame; I was looking forward to it." "S'not like we can't duel some other time," Gauche said with a shrug. Chris eyed both of them with surprise. When Kaito had mentioned that Gauche had wanted to talk to Mizael about him, he hadn't considered that it might include making plans to duel each other. Although now that he thought about it, it shouldn't surprise him at all; of course Gauche would want to duel someone as skilled as Mizael. Maybe he really shouldn't have taken Gauche out so early... "Since we're all here, why don't we have a Tag Duel?" Chris suggested after a moment. Gauche whirled toward him, a grin already breaking out on his face. "Can we do that?" "I don't see why not. As long as we both agree to it," Chris said with a nod to Mizael, "and how it might affect the results, it shouldn't be a problem." He could probably mention that this whole tournament was basically his idea in the first place, so if anyone should be allowed to bend the rules a little, it was him...but he wasn't going to. The people who needed to be aware of that—the ones who had the authority to say whether they could have a Tag Duel or not—were already aware of it. "Interesting. I did want to duel you one-on-one...but as he said"—Mizael nodded at Gauche—"we could do that anytime. I've never Tag Dueled with Kaito before..." He looked briefly over at Kaito, who nodded back at him, his duel disk already back on his arm. Mizael turned back to Chris with a smirk. "Very well. We'll accept this duel." Chris smiled as he turned away to get into place, Gauche trailing along next to him. Absently, he wondered how Smiley was faring right now; not only had he had to account for Gauche and Kaito sticking around long after they should have left, but now he was going to have to scramble to announce a Tag Duel in which half the participants were no longer part of the tournament. He half expected Smiley to cut in at any minute; these fields weren't completely cut off from the main commentary, after all. "You better not drag me down, Chris," Gauche said with a grin as they stopped and turned back around to face their opponents. Chris smirked, thinking back to the last time he'd heard very similar words from Kaito. That had also been against a Barian, though a considerably less friendly one under considerably more urgent circumstances. That had seemed like fate, and so did this, facing down his dearest friend and his soulmate with his own soulmate at his side, just because they wanted to. "I wouldn't dream of it. There'll be plenty of time to drag you down later." Gauche snorted, but he was still grinning when Chris smiled over at him. "Oi, not in front of all the kids." "My apologies. Shall we?" Chris and Gauche raised their duel disks in unison, and across the field, so did Kaito and Mizael. "Duel!" ◁◁ Part 2: Hailing