#why do you think you need to know basic math but not basic seam finishing methods huh?????

[trashratsaws]

Learn how to sew right now no I'm not kidding. Sewing is such an essential life skill to have ESPECIALLY if you have a desire to achieve a more sustainable personal lifestyle. Want to escape the whims of capitalism, fast fashion, and the unethical consumption of garments therein? Learn how to sew. Have a unique body type such that you can never seem to find clothes that both fit and flatter you? Learn how to sew. Want the clothes you already have to last a long time even if you grow out of them or they start unraveling? Want to make use of every article of clothing in your closet until it is literally dust? LEARN HOW TO SEW. I am sure we know this but fast fashion is one of the most disastrously harmful industries on the environment and there is simply no way to purchase a well-made, durable garment that will last a long time for the low price of a shein top with free next day shipping or whatever the fuck. It is simply not possible. Taking control on the most fundamental level of the clothes that you put on your back every single day is perhaps the single most powerful thing you can do as an individual in a post-capitalist hellscape that insists that cheap clothes come at the price of slave labor. Shop second hand. Alter your clothes. Make garments from scratch and delight in the feeling you get when someone asks you where you got your pants. Learn how to sew.

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Blended

Summary: Mason becomes a big brother.

A/N: Time to meet our newest member!

Word Count: 3.2k

And away, and away we go!

__

When Vanessa found out she was pregnant, she had exactly three thoughts. One, Finn was going to freak out. Two, Ashton was going to break things off with her. And three, Mason was going to freak out. Thankfully, Finn hadn’t freaked out as much as she thought. And more thankfully still, she was dead wrong about thought two, which made preparing to deal with the fallout of thought three slightly more bearable.

Finn and Vanessa’s main concern, besides her and the baby being healthy, was dealing with how they were going to get Mason used to the idea of becoming a big brother, and what that would mean. Which meant, they had to decide what it would mean for them.

“Are we gonna give up the second apartment?” Vanessa asked. “Because the baby’s not going to be able to be away from me for a while. But I’m not gonna keep your kid from you, or keep flip-flopping across the hall with the baby every week.”

“No, I’ll stay full time in the other apartment and I’ll just come over.”

“So you would just use the apartment to sleep basically? That’s just a waste of money, Finn. And plus with two kids, we’re gonna need something bigger than this apartment. We always said we were gonna get something bigger.”

“Back when we still lived together, yeah.”

“Aw, you don’t wanna live with me, again? C’mon, I’m a great roommate.”

Finn rolled his eyes playfully. “Fine. Say we give up both apartments and move into a three-bedroom. Mason gets a room, you and baby get a room, I get a room. What happens after that? You share a room with the baby forever? We become the roommate parents raising their kids under the same roof? How’s Ashton gonna handle that one? ‘Hey, remember how I told you I was pregnant with my ex’s kid and you didn’t run when you had the chance? Yeah, we’re getting a new place together, but it’s cool cuz we’re just gonna be roomies?’ C’mon, Ness, this is insane. It might just be best if you stay with Mase and the baby, and then on my weeks, I’ll take Mase to the other apartment.”

Vanessa rubbed at the sides of her forehead. “I dunno, Finn. I really don’t. We don’t know how Mase is gonna react to the baby, much less react to potentially sleeping in a strange place every other week.”

“You mean the same way he’d react to sleeping in a strange place if we all moved?”

“Okay, but at least in a new place, he’d have a bedroom like he does now. And that bedroom wouldn’t change.”

“Well, we don’t have to figure this out right this second. Let’s just focus on getting Mason to understand the news, and we’ll go from there.”

~~~

Vanessa recounted her and Finn’s conversation to Ashton. “And I understand Finn’s concern with the idea of all moving into a new place. But, it just seems easier for us all if we’re under the same roof once the baby comes, and we can deal with the custody details later when the baby gets a little older. Get another apartment, and trade off being there and at the house like we do now.”

“So, you’re moving back in with Finn?” Ashton asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No! Maybe… I dunno… I just don’t want to keep Finn or Mason away from the baby for the sake of keeping the schedule we have now. That’s not fair to either of them, especially Finn. I mean, I know logically that him missing those first few months isn’t much in the grand scheme of things. Like eventually the baby will be old enough to be with him and Mason. But…”

“I know,” Ashton nodded. “It’s confusing and frustrating. And you just want to do best for your family.”

“Without upsetting you in the process,” she added.

“Why would I be upset?”

“You wouldn’t care if Finn and I potentially ended up living together again?”

“I mean, yeah I’d care. But I’m not gonna be upset about it. Although if it ends up with you guys getting back together, then I’ll get upset. But only because I lost out on an amazing girl.”

She smiled gratefully up at the man she’d come to know quite well in their two months of dating “Ash…”

He chuckled and wrapped her in a hug. “When are you gonna realize that I’m not going anywhere?”

~~~

When Vanessa met up with Finn that Saturday night for dinner, they broke the news to their son.

“Mase,” Finn started, getting the boy’s attention. “Momma and I have a surprise for you.”

“Momma?” Mason asked, looking at Vanessa.

“Yeah,” she smiled softly at him. “You’re gonna be a big brother, sweet boy.”

Mason looked at her like his mom had lost her damn mind. That wild expression of “uh, come again?” turned on Finn. “Daddy?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, there’s a baby in Momma’s tummy.”

“Momma?” Mason said in a way that really meant, “That’s nice… I think?”

“Yeah, baby,” she told him, rubbing her hand across her stomach. “Like you,” She reached out a finger to peck Mason’s nose.

“Momma…” Mason repeated.

“And Daddy,” Vanessa said, pointing at Finn. “And Mason,” she pointed at Mason. “And baby,” she finished, running her hand over her abdomen for a second time.

Mason nodded slowly. If you say so…

~~~

It took Mason going with them to an ultrasound appointment to fully understand just what his parents had meant by him becoming a big brother. “Do you see the baby?” Vanessa asked Mason as the ultrasound technician waved the wand across Vanessa’s stomach. On the little monitor Finn could make out what looked to be the hand of his second child.

“Look, right there, bud,” Finn said in amazement, pointing out what he could see of the baby out to his son.

“Daddy…” Mason whispered in awe.

“Yeah, that’s your little brother or sister.”

“Momma.”

~~~

At the end of Vanessa’s second trimester, her, Ashton, and Finn all sat down to discuss the living situation once more. 

“Vanessa, just stay here in the apartment. Put the baby in the bedroom with you like we did when Mason was smaller,” Finn told her. “I’ll be fine in the one bedroom.”

“And do what with Mason? Have him spend a week sleeping in bed with you there, then turn around and have him sleep alone in his room here? Do you remember how long it took us for him to start sleeping on his own the first time around?”

“No! The whole point of one of us leaving to the other apartment was so that he didn’t have to.”

“So what are you gonna do? Come over every day when it’s your week?”

“And leave you stuck at home all day with a newborn and Mason when it’s not? No, I’ll be over every day, regardless of what week it is.”

“Finn, we’re having the same argument again. There’s no point in wasting money on the spare apartment if you’re just using it to sleep.”

“How is it any different from the way it’s getting used now?”

“The difference is about 15 meals and 60 hours.”

“You would have done the math…” Finn rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You’re the father of my children… you’re the father of my children…” Vanessa reminded herself. Sometimes she really wanted to throttle Finn.

“Ness. I don’t want to disrupt Mason’s life anymore than we already have. And I want to make this as easy on your end as possible. But, do you really think us getting a whole new place, and living under the same roof is better than me being slightly inconvenienced by having to wander 50 feet to sleep every night?”

“Yes, I do. We’re gonna need to move eventually regardless. This place is already bursting at the seams with all of Mason’s things. Do you remember how many things babies have?”

“You’re right…” Finn admitted. “We’re having the same fight again. If we stay here, you’re mad money’s being wasted on a second apartment you don’t think we need. If we get the bigger place we eventually need, but can go without for now, we’re stuck looking for an apartment again in six months. And then there’s the readjusting Mason to one of us being gone after being under the same roof just long enough for it to become normal to him again. And I’m sure Ash here isn’t exactly too keen on the idea of us living together again.”

“So, we look for a new apartment in six months. We keep reminding Mason that our living together is temporary, so the readjustment goes smoother.”

“This whole situation is a shit show, Ness…”

“Can I suggest something?” Ashton asked, tired of watching the parents bicker over the same details over and over.

Finn opened his mouth to tell Ashton just where he could put his suggestion, but quickly closed it under Vanessa’s fiery glare. “Sure…” Finn said in a clipped tone. 

“Get the three bedroom so you have the space you’re gonna need. Live there, together, until you think the baby’s old enough to be away from Nessa every other week. Then, instead of finding another apartment, and splitting your time and resources between 2 places, Nessa moves in with me. I can start turning one of the spare bedrooms I have into a room for Mason, and we can get him used to it at the same time as getting him used to the new house. That way, when you two live apart again, it’s less of a shock because he’ll already be used to my place.”

Finn brought a finger to his lips in thought. “T-that actually might work.”

Vanessa looked at Ashton, her mouth hanging open. “Did you just ask me to move in with you?”

Ashton’s hazel eyes danced as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

~~~

While the hunt for Finn’s new home started, Ashton and Vanessa spent the better part of a weekend transforming one of Ashton’s bedrooms into Mason’s new room. And the next time she had the boy, she told him she had a surprise for him.

“Sweet boy, do you wanna go sleep at Papa’s house?!” she asked brightly.

“Papa!” Mason shrieked, jumping up and down while nodding his head.

“Yeah? Alright, let’s get ready to go see Papa.”

A half hour later, she was parking in Ashton’s driveway and helping Mason out of the car. “Papa!” Mason screeched as he saw Ashton walking towards them.

“Mase!” Ashton answered, crouching down for Mason to touch his forehead against Ashton’s chest. “You ready for a sleepover at Papa’s?”

“Papa,” Mason nodded, grabbing onto Ashton’s hand as Ashton stood back up.

“Sorry it took so long to get here,” Vanessa said, kissing Ashton’s cheek. “But it’s a little hard to get him ready when every question is answered with ‘Papa!’ and dancing.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby. Glad you guys are here.”

“Oh! Can you show him around for a bit? I wanna put something in his room.”

“Course, c’mon Mase, let’s go see if Papa’s got any cookies. You want a cookie?”

“Just one!” Vanessa warned, already picturing finding them both in the kitchen halfway through a sleeve of Oreos. 

“Say, ‘yeah, okay, Momma.’” Ashton winked devilishly over his shoulder. 

“Momma,” Mason laughed.

Vanessa shook her head as she turned to go up the staircase towards the bedrooms. In Mason’s room, she set his bag down, rummaging through it for the blanket she had bought the previous week. She shook out the blanket to unfold it with a sharp snap, before lifting up the mattress of the toddler bed to pull it on and up, smoothing it into place. 

“And when you come to stay with Momma and Papa, this’ll be your room!” Ashton’s voice said from the doorway, holding Mason on his hip. “That’s a weird looking sheet,” Ashton told her, nodding at the blanket on Mason’s bed.

“It’s not a sheet. It’s a compression blanket,” Vanessa said. “It works the way a weighted blanket would, just without the heaviness of it. Keeps him from sweating on hot nights. And on nights where it’s cooler, we add a regular blanket.”

“Oh, shit, that’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah. Do you wanna see your room, sweet boy?” she asked Mason.

Mason nodded so Ashton placed him on his feet. The two and a half year old wandered slowly about the room, taking it all in. “So, now when you come to Papa’s, you’ll have your room,” Vanessa explained.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, just like your room at Daddy’s.”

“Papa.”

“Yep. This is Mason’s room at Papa’s. All yours.”

“‘Ason…”

Vanessa choked. “W-what was that, sweet boy?”

Mason pointed at her. “Momma.” His finger moved to Ashton, “Papa.” His finger moved again to point in the general direction of outside, “Daddy.” And finally, he pointed at himself, “‘Ason.”

“That’s right!” Ashton cheered while Vanessa started to weep. “You are Mason!”

“Momma…” Mason said sadly.

“Oh, I’m not sad, sweet boy. I’m happy,” she reassured him with a big smile, tears streaming down her face. “You know who everybody is. Good job!”

~~~

With Vanessa actively keeping Mason at Ashton’s to get him used to being there, Finn found a house one week. Then, a week later when Vanessa had Mason again, Ashton helped Finn move.

“You know, man, I’ve been thinking,” Finn started as both men sat on the couch, catching their breath.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I think Nessa and the baby should just stay with you. I’ll keep rotating Mase with her to keep his schedule. And I’ll stop by every day after work to bond with the baby, and help out. I mean, if that works for you guys.”

Ashton blinked in surprise. “Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s really between you and Nessa how you want to handle things. But yeah.”

“I understand why she thought her and I living together would be a good idea. She doesn’t want to feel like she’s keeping me or Mason away from the baby. But that’s not what’s happening. Like I don’t feel that way. I saw how Mason was as a baby, I know as the guy I’m pretty useless. The only thing I can really do is just to be over as much as I can to help out, and keep Mason on his routine. Plus, she has you, so I’m kinda deadweight anyway.”

“You’re not deadweight, mate. This kid is just as much yours as Mason is. And Nessa wants you around.”

“And I will be,” Finn promised.

“Yeah, I know. And I get what you’re saying about not wanting to fuck with Mase’s head. And I also get what you’re not saying. But mate, I’m not concerned at all about you and Nessa. Like you have kids together. The day you’re not around is the day I kick your ass for leaving your awesome kids.”

“Your worst case scenario is me leaving my kids, but not her leaving you?”

Ashton raised his hands in surrender and laughed. “You know as well as I do no one is ever gonna be what that woman deserves.”

“Yeah, but you come pretty fuckin close. Glad you found her.”

“Glad you let her go.”

~~~

“What are we gonna name you?” Vanessa asked her baby bump. Ashton and Finn were upstairs putting the finishing touches on the nursery, having spent the better part of their weekend getting it ready. So all that was left to do was pick a name and wait. And eventually get the third bedroom at Finn’s situated, but they still had time for that. 

“‘Ason,” Mason said, his hand patting where his little brother or sister was.

“No, you’re Mason, silly boy. What are we gonna call the baby?”

Mason pursed his lips in thought. Hmm… “Baie,” he said.

Vanessa quirked an eyebrow. At this point she was convinced her son knew plenty of words, he just refused to speak any. “We can’t name the baby, ‘baby,’ sweet boy.”

He shook his head. “Bai- E!” he tried again.

“Bailey? You wanna name the baby, Bailey?”

“Baie!” Mason nodded, rubbing her tummy. “Baie, Baie, Baie.”

“I think that sounds perfect, sweet boy.”

The decision on a name couldn’t have come at a better time because it seemed to Vanessa like all she did was blink and Bailey was ready to make their arrival, even though the calendar claimed it had been another month.

She cradled the soft pink bundle to her chest. “Hi, my sweet girl,” she sang.

“She’s so pretty,” Ashton admired, thinking just how amazing Vanessa was and how lucky he was to be part of her world.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

“Nah, I’ll wait for Finn to get back with Mason. He should get to hold Bailey before I do.”

“You want kids of your own, don’t you?”

Ashton shook his head, half-lying. “I’m good with what I have.”

“You can be good with what you have and still want more.”

“Yeah. I’d love to biologically be a dad. And I’d love for you to be the mom because I love you and already know you’d do a fantastic job at it. But you’ve got your hands full. So right now all I want is everything I already have.”

“But look how tiny and cute she is,” she pleaded, holding up Bailey so Ashton could see the baby better.

Ashton chuckled, “I dunno how you can have baby fever after just giving birth.”

“Oh, she never told you that she wants like a bajillion kids?” Finn asked as he walked into the room, holding onto Mason’s hand.

“I don’t want like a bajillion. I want exactly a bajillion.”

Both of the men snorted with laughter. “Alright, Finn. Come hold your daughter and let me snuggle my sweet boy. You wanna come sit with Momma, Mase?”

“Momma,” Mason said in a barely audible whisper.

“Why are we so quiet?” Vanessa whispered at Finn as they traded pink bundle for small toddler.

“I didn’t want him screaming so I said we had to use inside voices and he overcompensated because it’s Mase,” Finn whispered back. “Ash, did you get a chance to hold her yet?”

“Nah, but don’t worry about it. Get your time in.”

“‘Ason. Momma. Papa. Daddy. Baie,” Mason whispered to himself on repeat while pointing at everyone as he said their name.

“Yes, good job, sweet boy,” Vanessa praised after every run through. “Do you want to hold your sister?” she asked after his fourth go round.

“Baie,” he nodded.

“Okay, come sit with us, Mase.” Ashton patted the space next to him on the windowsill seat where him and Finn were.

“Here, use this,” Vanessa told them, handing over the boppy.

Ashton helped Mason get settled on the seat before grabbing the boppy and putting it snugly on the boy’s lap. “Okay, remember be gentle, and quiet with Bailey,” Finn reminded Mason as he lowered Bailey onto the boppy. “Loud noises scare her, too.”

“Baie,” Mason whispered, brushing his hand softly across Bailey’s forehead. The three adults watched in tearful awe as Mason introduced his baby sister to their little world. “Baie. ‘Ason. Momma, Papa. Daddy.”

__

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[bubmyg]

a pink peony - ksj

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/warnings: (pre) ceo!au, college!au, fluff, yoongi is a lil insufferable but also just loves his roommate, awkward but incredibly intelligent seokjin is a kink and a half

word count: 1,554

summary: before seokjin was mr. kim seokjin, ceo of kim enterprises, he was jin, president of the only business fraternity on his campus and entirely too nervous to ask you out let alone sign a multi-billion dollar deal or yoongi bans his tie drawer and throws his business math textbook out the third story window of their building when he tells him to get dressed at ten o’clock on a tuesday.

a/n: based on a request i got for ceo!jin and oc’s first date which dates all the way back to their undergrad days :-)

“Give me your textbook.”

Seokjin didn’t even entertain his roommate, snorting with a single cocked eyebrow as he pointedly flipped the page. The numbers were running together regardless, not computing further in the forefront of his conscious as the other presence in the other room continued to glare at him from the doorway.

“Jin. Give me the damn textbook before I take it from you.”

That got Seokjin to look up, regarding Yoongi’s thin frame with a wrinkled forehead and a short, exaggerated laugh.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Try me.”

He wasn’t expecting his mint headed roommate to stalk straight for him, ring clad fingers clasping around the spine of the book and lifting upward. Pens and pencils and highlights and stray post it notes spilled from within the glossy pages, falling limp into Seokjin’s lap as Yoongi pointedly closed the book.

“I have an exam next week to study for.”

“What day?”

“Friday.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

Seokjin glowered and Yoongi’s lips twitched in a smirk, holding the textbook hostage across his chest. He plucked a highlighter between his nails and seethed quietly, “I still need it.”

“Later. You have a date to attend.”

“I have a what—”

“Yeah, I grew balls for you and told your little crush that you wanted to meet her tonight.”

Seokjin blinked owlishly at his friend before turning that stunned silence to the metal linked watch latched to his wrist, “Night already happened. It’s nearly ten—”

“Good thing the pizza place on third street stays open until midnight then—” Yoongi placed the textbook down on the windowsill, a loud noise in the otherwise quiet apartment, “—and good thing we’re university students. Who rarely go to bed before two in the morning.”

“Says you—”

“Jin, I swear to god if you give me an hours of sleep per night statistic and its ratio to those who earn their MBA’s I’m canceling your half of the lease tonight and letting Jimin move his shit in.”

Seokjin’s throat jumped and he swallowed the butterflies that had balled and lodged in the base of his throat, instead taking purchase in the entirety of his stomach, spreading and fluttering and brushing their delicate wings against his churning inner walls. He popped the cap from the highlighter in hand, smearing the neon yellow onto his thumb just underneath his nail, muttering, “What did you tell her?”

“That you were free tonight and ready to not blow her off again.”

His eyes widened, “I’ve never blown her off—”

“Not only does she think that you don’t desperately want in her pants—” Yoongi’s voice was scolding, protective almost of his friend that he’d introduced Seokjin to in the first place, “—she thinks that you don’t like her. At all.”

“B-but, how could—”

“I know you think you’re just being polite because you’re nervous and she makes you nervous and her literally asking you out makes you nervous but you aren’t like, normal person polite. You’re loud. And short. And when your chair fell over in the library last week when you tried to run out after she asked you to pizza with some of her friends? It fell on her.”

The butterflies in Seokjin’s stomach seemed to scold him too and his shoulders deflated, capping the highlighter and tossing it into the pile of discarded things from his textbook. Miserable, his chin hit his chest, “So what are you suggesting I do?”

“I’m suggesting that you get dressed…” Yoongi abandoned the closed textbook on the window sill to slide in front of Seokjin’s chest of drawers, slapping a hand across the third from the top, “...in something that doesn’t involve a tie. And then collect the vase of things on the kitchen counter because I have to do everything for you. And then go to the pizza place. Pay for dinner, or let her pay for it. Split the check. Whatever, just go on this damn date.”

“No tie…” Seokjin’s eyes squinted suspiciously as Yoongi moved back for the window, fiddling at the black lining the glass, “...what’s on the kitchen counter?”

“They’re flowers, Jin.”

“You bought me flowers?”

“No, you bought her flowers. You said you wanted to do that anyway...remember?”

Seokjin blinked, “Why did I want to buy her flowers?”

“Probably something about chivalry and old school romance considering you’re basically sixty years old but—” Yoongi sighed, mostly because he’d finally freed the latch on the window and shoved it open, letting cool air flood through the room, “—she studies botany. I got them from kids selling them outside the greenhouses. Take her the flowers.”

“I knew that…” Seokjin squinted as Yoongi’s hands framed his textbook and began to drape it out the open window, “...what are you doing with my textbook?”

“Nothing.”

“Yoongi, give the textbook back—”

Seokjin watched in horror as Yoongi let go, letting the glossed cover catch on the lip of the window before tumbling three stories below to hit the turf with an audible but dull thump.  

“Now you officially have nothing to do tonight,” Yoongi beamed and Seokjin wondered the trajectory and force he’d have to throw a highlight at to concuss someone as his roommate waddled around the edge of his bed. His final instruction came after he’d shrugged through the ajar door, “Get dressed! And don’t you dare go look for the fucking textbook!”

He fiddled with the plastic ends of the pink hoodie hanging off his torso. The right side had been peeled away, fraying at the edges and straying into his fingernails when he drug a pinched thumb and index finger across them.

The hoodie wasn’t his. He’d dared Yoongi’s room for help after he decided a long sleeve declaring the cheesy llama mascot he’d created for AKP probably wasn’t the best first date look. It was pink and it was huge and it still had the tag on it, buried behind Yoongi’s sea of mundane black, blue, red, and green.

His index finger hooked into the collar this time, tugging and effectively exposing his collarbones to the chill of the tiny establishment. There were no other customers besides himself, cornered in the back in a booth that was barely big enough to fit his stature, a coke on the table with a candy striped paper straw spiraling out of the beverage, the slightly damp tip poking against one of the pretty pink peonies spilling out over the generic plastic vase.

He’d ordered a pepperoni pizza because who didn’t like pepperoni pizza and he was fretting over the likelihood of you having an allergy to tomatoes all together when keys clattered against the table and you fell into the seat across from him with a huff.

“Oh! Peonies from the botany club,” There was a smile on your lips already and Seokjin found his heart ricochet off each of his ribs before shooting up into his throat, “You must have just missed me. I worked the afternoon shift…”

“They’re for you,” Seokjin rushed, gently nudging the vase for you. When your lips wobbled in confusion, he, bluntly, bullshitted, “I-I figured you probably sold out and they’re too pretty not to have some of so…”

“Thank you, Jin,” You smiled softly and the apples of his cheeks were stroked in the same pretty pink of the flowers you cupped gently in your palms, “At least I know how to take care of them properly, right?”

“They’re pretty like you too,” He blurted. “I-I mean—”

A shy smile graced your lips and dimpled into your cheeks and you glanced at him fondly through your eyelashes and he thought he was going to puke all his adoration for you right on top of the pizza the waiter left with a quiet eye roll.

“I hope you like pepperoni,” He tried again and his voice was just as loud, something he correct with a cough, “I figured that—”

“...everyone likes pepperoni?” You finished together and the bashful light still slanted at the seam of your lips, “Yes, pepperoni is perfect, Jin.”

He managed to suppress the you’re perfect in his throat this time, lodging it deeper into his esophagus by jamming a mouthful of grease into his cheeks. Some of the red tinted liquid dripped off the corner of his lips and onto Yoongi’s hoodie but he found you giggling at him when he went to inspect you in horror. He barely chewed, swallowing the mouthful with an audible gulp that only heightened your giggles and soon you were staring at each other in a comfortable silence, half smiles painted to the crooks of your mouths, uncertain light dancing behind your eyes.

You ducked away first and Seokjin indulged in being able to trace the lines of your features to memory as you delicate nibbled on the edge of some stray cheese.

“Your president of AKP, right?—”

“So, how’d the flower sales go—”

You giggled, dusting off your hands that weren’t dirty onto a napkin, “You go first.”

Seokjin was glowing far more than the unnatural shine on the grease creviced between ridges of cheese on the pizza slices, nudging his plate out of the way by means of folded fingers that came to rest on the table. His smile was genuine, voice curious as his chin tilted, black bangs dangling over his eyes.

“Peonies. Tell me about them.”

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 8 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 8 of UNDONE, our Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link the previous chapters.This is a repost from AO3/RGF - once we’re caught up, new chapters will go up.

Summary: Courtney tries to come to terms with her feelings, while Bianca suffers from the blues.

TW: This story deals with themes of emotional abuse, and since that can be subtle, we’re going to keep a general TW on all of the chapters, even when it seems like it doesn’t apply.

***

“Good morning!” Kim sings, as Courtney walks into the kitchen. “Didja sleep well, sis?”

Courtney grabs the tea kettle from the stove to pour herself a cup.

“Not especially.”

“Sorry, love.” Kim holds out a plate with toast and jam. “And I’m sorry for giving you shit last night. You’re just so much fun to tease.”

Courtney sighs, leaning back against the fridge and taking a slice.

“It’s alright. You were...less off base than I let on.”

“I know,” Kim smirks.

“Cunt,” Courtney laughs, mouth full.

Kim finishes her juice and sets the glass in the sink.

“Runs in the family. Are you sure it’s still cool that I take your car?” Kim asks.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I can uber to work; it’s not far.”

“Awesome. I’ll be back Sunday, then,” Kim says, grabbing the keys, her purse and a small rolling suitcase. “In the meantime, if you feel like inviting any sexy Latina women over, you know…”

“Get out of here!” Courtney exclaims, laughing, shoving her towards the door.

***

Courtney groans in frustration, tossing her phone over onto her heap of clothes in the corner.

“That little twat isn’t bothering you again, is she?” Bianca asks her. “Turn.”

Courtney obeys, answering, “No. I think you scared her away for good. Thank god.”

“Excellent. So what’s the problem?” She unzips Courtney’s dress, taking it over to the sewing machine to make the alterations.

“Well...I’m trying to find some...uh...company, for tonight, and none of my regulars are available, and the idea of prowling around a bar is just not very appealing.”

Bianca opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by Adore opening the door to the trailer, asking, “is Gary still in here?”

“No, he's in makeup,” Bianca says.

“Cool.”

She starts to leave but Courtney calls out, “Wait!”

“Yes?” Adore turns back around as Courtney runs to the door, arms over her bare chest. “Nice panties.”

“Are you still dating that DJ?” Courtney asks Adore quietly. Bianca slows down the sewing, pretending not to listen in.

“No, why?” Adore responds.

Courtney gives her puppy eyes.

“Oh.” Adore grins. “DTF, huh?”

“Yes please.”

“Can we go in your hot tub?” Adore bargains.

“Whatever gets you in the mood, peaches.” Courtney flutters her lashes.

“You know,” Adore laughs, “You're my most generous booty call.”

Courtney sticks her tongue out as Adore lets the screen door fall closed, backing down the steps.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Delano!”

“Later bitch!”

Courtney walks back over to perch on the stool while Bianca keeps sewing.

“Wow,” Bianca says under her breath, turning the dress over to examine the seams.

“What?”

“Just...that was very...uh...direct.”

“Welcome to friends with benefits,” Courtney laughs.

Bianca shakes her head. “You’re out of control.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just mean...like, you are constantly coming here with stories about all these different girls. You’re definitely pulling more tail than the brosin Jared’s office.”

“Well, sure, I would hope so, because I’m guessing by your tone that that’s quite a low bar to clear.”

Bianca laughs uncomfortably.

“And anyway, I think you have a very warped perspective about what life is like for a single person. You said you’ve been with your husband since you were what, 18?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, you havenoidea what it’s like to have to chase downother human beings to sleep with. It is fucking exhausting. I will bet you anything that you have more than double the amount of sex as me. Maybe triple.”

“Not a chance!”

“Well, why don’t we do the math?”

“Sure...” Bianca agrees.

“Okay, so, how often do you and Jared have sex? Roughly, how many time a week?”

“Uhhh...I dunno, maybe... four? Five?”

“Four or five?!”

“Is that bad?”

“No, it’s...holy shit. Cheers, Jared.” Courtney shakes her head.

Bianca giggles, slightly self-conscious.

“Alright, well, let me break down my wild and crazy single person sex life for you. I go out once or twice a week. I bring someone home with me...maybe 1 in 3 of those times, if I’m lucky. So I’m fucking another human maybe twice a month? Four times, tops. The rest of the time, I take care of my own business, with help from some very top of the line vibrators.”

Bianca closes her eyes.

“Is there anything you don’t feel the need to share?”

“No, why?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“Anyway...I assume with your Ivy League education that you’re following the math here.”

“Wow.” Bianca looks at her. “I guess so.”

“Really, four or five?” Courtney shakes her head in amazement.

“Well...we aretrying to have a baby,” Bianca says.

“Okay, but that only explains a few days a month.”

“Right, but Jared’s philosophy is that ovulation days are Game Days, and the rest of the month is like, practice, keeping in good form, so we’re in peak condition for Game Day.” Bianca says all of this matter-of-factly, with a slightly amused tone, clearly not buying it 100%, but pretending to. She removes the dress from the machine, clipping a few loose threads and handing it back over.

“Ahh, I see. What about your period?” Courtney slips the dress over her head and turns around so that Bianca can zip her up.

“Off season.”

Courtney laughs.

“Well, B, this sounds like a winning formula. I wish you guys lots of success for getting those swimmers past the goal line, into the...hoop? I don’t really do sports metaphors, sorry.”

“Thanks anyway,” Bianca says, helping her into her jacket, chuckling.

***

“Holy shit,” Adore pants, sprawled out on her back. “What the fuck got into you?”

“I’m sorry,” Courtney says. “I didn’t mean to get so aggressive.” She rolls over, propping her head up with a pillow.

“I mean, I didn’t realize we were having a competition, but you definitely won. I think I’m gonna have bruises tomorrow, though.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Ummm, tell that to my poor battered pussy,” Adore counters.

Courtney rolls her eyes. “Then why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

“Well...I liked it.” Adore flashes an impish grin and Courtney laughs, nudging her affectionately with her foot.

“You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah. So...what’s your problem? Why all the pent-up rage?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe...I guess I kind of got into it with Kimmy last night.” Courtney examines her nails.

“About?”

“She was kind of giving me shit about Bianca. And I got all defensive because, you know, I just...I don’t see it ever happening.”

“I dunno about that,” Adore says, chuckling.

“But Adore, be realistic. I mean, she’s married, and she wants a family, with her husband, and...you know, it is what it is. But god, she’s so hot, I can’t stand it sometimes…”

“I don’t understand you, this is totally your wheelhouse. Just be like,” Adore puts on an exaggerated Australian accent, “Hello Bianca, are ya keen? Care for a root? Cause I’d really like to fuck your brains out, how’s that? Oh these? Just my tits, I thought I’d have them out today. So are we on?”

“Would you please stop, I don’t sound like that. You sound like the crocodile hunter imitating Ja’mie or something.”

“Well, you could learn a lot from Ja’mie. She’s got more balls than you.”

Courtney sighs, closing her eyes and smiling dreamily. “She’s just so beautiful. Have you ever seen anyone that beautiful?”

“Well, yeah, I have a mirror, so…” Adore tongue pops.

Courtney rolls her eyes.

“I’m kidding,” Adore says. “And I guess she’s cute...in that like, grown-up Bratz doll, painted, uber-femme kinda way. She’s definitely got great tits.”

“Grown up Bratz doll,” Courtney repeats, chuckling, then says, “You know who she reminds me of? Remember in The Little Mermaid, that scene when-”

“My favorite movie, go on-”

“When Ursula turns into that like, sexy girl, and tries to steal Eric from Ariel?” Courtney raises her eyebrows.

“Omigod. Vanessa.” Adore begins to laugh.

“Yes! Vanessa! Blue eyes, dark hair, that evil glint in her eye…”

“She is a little bit evil. I’ve noticed that too,” Adore nods.

“No! Not evil, but, like...impish. Mischievous. And those cute dimples. And that body…Ughhhhh!”

“Girl, you need a cold shower.”

“I need a lobotomy.”

“Or that,” Adore agrees. “You know what I wonder...What’s the husband like?”

Courtney shrugs, eyes slightly unfocused.

“I’ve never met him.”

“Well, okay, but I’m sure you stalked her social media. You must know what he looks like…”

“I mean, of course…” She hugs a pillow to her chest.

“...And?”

“And what?”

Adore cups her hands around her mouth and speaks loudly through them.

“What does he look like?”

“I...I dunno. He’s...like, if you went to the husband factory and ordered the Ivy League model with a cheekbone upgrade, he’s what would pop out of the machine. He’s basically a Ken doll.”

“Hmm. So she’s got a type,” Adore muses thoughtfully.

Courtney raises the pillow and smacks Adore in the face, making her shriek with laughter.

***

Bianca looks up from her sewing machine. “So how was your night?”

“Pretty good,” Courtney says, perched on the stool, swinging her legs.

Bianca raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, looking back down.

“What?”

“No, nothing. I’m just bracing myself.”

“Bracing yourself for what?”

“Details about your little rendez-vous.”

Courtney smirks, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Oh, so you want details, eh? Didn’t realize you were so thirsty for smut-”

“No, I didn’t say I wanteddetails, but that’s never stopped you before,” Bianca replies with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Well...” Courtney begins, then pauses.

Bianca looks up, soft blue eyes meeting Courtney’s green ones. She can feel her heart begin to race, her abdomen tightening.

“Yeah?”

“...I don’t want to torture you,” Courtney continues, “So, I’ll just let you imagine this one.”

Bianca exhales, forcing a scoff.

“Oh...shut up.”

Courtney giggles, twirling on the stool, feeling a slight release of the tension that had been building up over the last few days. She exhales, letting her head fall backwards, enjoying the dizziness that comes over her as she spins, not unlike the feeling of being on a dance floor after your second or third cocktail.

“I do have one question.”

Bianca’s voice brings her back to the moment and she puts a foot down to stop the stool.

“Yes?” she asks, with a coy flutter of her lashes.

“Don’t get excited, it’s not a sex question.”

“Oh.”

“Just like...the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing.” Bianca pauses, then continues carefully, “I just...always thought that was a thing guys made up so that they didn’t have to commit. What exactly are you getting out of that?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“No. You’re good friends, so you obviously get along. And you sleep together. Why not just date? What am I missing?”

“You can like someone, and enjoy sleeping with them, and still know that they aren’t the right romantic match for you. I love Adore. I mean, you know her, she’s fun, and we totally get along, but…it takes a lot for me to want to be in a relationship. I’d much rather be independent than try to force something with someone that isn’t right for me. And with Adore...there’s not that fire, that...you know?”

Bianca listens, wondering how anyone could be with Courtney and not have fire. She’s nothing butfire.

“I mean it’s always just been too easy. There’s no burning passion, or...or sense of adventure. It’s just...nice. Which is great, but...that’s it...” Courtney trails off, trying to read the ambiguous expression on Bianca’s face.

“I see.” It’s taking all of Bianca’s mental strength not to imagine exactly the kind of “burning passion” it would take to satisfy her. Nails dig in her hands under the sewing table, willing herself to erase the torrid images flashing through her mind. Back arched, toes curled, mouth open in a desperate moan...

“For either of us!” Courtney continues quickly. “Which is why, you know, we don’t hook up too often. Or, we’ll get lazy and stop looking for the real deal. She agrees with me; we’ve talked about it.”

“Wait, you’ve actually talked about this?” Bianca is snapped out of her fantasies by surprise, caught off guard. “So then it’s more than just sex?”

Courtney looks at her for a moment before answering, suddenly conscious of how very deeply curious she’s been. Almost invested. But she shakes that thought and smiles.

“Well, yeah. She’s not just a trick, she’s my friend. And she agrees. But then, she’s kind of lazier than me so sometimes she’s like ‘sure, right, but on the other hand, who needs epic passion when you’ve got Netflix?’”

Bianca laughs.

“She sounds like Jared. We should fix them up.”

“Now, I’ve know never met him, but something tells me that he wouldn’t be her type,” Courtney replies.

“I dunno, he’s kinda pretty,” Bianca says. “A wig and a wonderbra, she might not know.”

“Well…” Courtney taps her chin thoughtfully. “She does like a strap-on.”

Bianca’s eyes bulge as she gapes at Courtney, lips parted in disbelief.

“What, you thought it was the other way around?” Courtney asks sweetly.

“I...I...shut up!” Bianca finally stammers out.

Courtney winks smugly and then bursts out laughing, immensely proud of herself.

***

“Don’t get me wrong...your dogs are super fucking cool, but I just think it’s a little weird that you always have them at the table with us,” Adore says.

“Why?” Bianca responds. “We let you sit at the table.”

Adore laughs, spitting out some of her roast beef.

“Case in point…”

Courtney bites down on a carrot stick, thoughtfully scratching Sammy behind the ears.

“Hey, are you guys doing anything next Saturday?” she asks.

“Why?” Adore asks suspiciously. “Not another lame west side art gallery opening again...because I toldSasha-“

“No, not that. So...I have this friend-”

“Hard to believe, but go on…” Bianca interrupts.

“Ahem. My dear, dear friend Alexis is hosting this like, cabaret-style performance night at the Rockwell and she asked me to do a few numbers. I was wondering if you guys might want to come. No pressure.”

“You sing?” Bianca asks.

“Mostly for a lark, but yeah.” Courtney chews her lip. “It’s really no big deal. Although, if it helps, the other performers are actual professionals. Frankly, I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing in this line-up except maybe she’s being nice.”

“Maybe she thinks you’ll look good on the posters,” Adore offers.

“Thanks.”

“You’re such a little twat,” Bianca tells her.

“Yeah, well, this is total false modesty. Her voice is fucking awesome. I’ll be there, obviously, and you should come too. Wear something low cut and I’ll buy you a drink.” Adore winks.

“Stop that,” Bianca says. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“Oh, you are not. Maybe like, a slutty golddigging stepmom.”

“There’s an image,” Courtney laughs.

“Why slutty? Why can’t I be a classy golddigger?”

“My dad’s lazy, so he goes for very whoreish women. It’s kind of the reason my mom kicked him out.”

“Sounds like a real catch.”

“Hey, you picked him...Mommy.” Adore winks again, licking her lips.

“You’re a sick fuck.” Bianca shakes her head.

“I know, right?” Adore grins charmingly, resting her head on Courtney’s shoulder.

“By the way, I’ve seen her dad...I don’t think he’s your cup of tea,” Courtney adds.

“Good to know. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called a golddigger though.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah. Jared’s mom had it out for me from the beginning. And then, like, we were engaged for almost nine years, and the entire time, she was fighting about this insane pre-nup that she wanted me to sign. Newsflash, Linda: I’m not in this for the beach house on the Cape. I’d actually rather slit my own wrists then spend a summer with your racist garbage friends in Chatham.”

“What a bitch!” Adore exclaims.

“Pretty much,” Bianca shrugs, tapping her French tips on the table. “But, joke’s on her. Because maybe if she wasn’t such an asshole back when we first hooked up, her son wouldn’t have been so gung-ho about marrying me in the first place.” She takes a long sip of her Diet Coke as Adore laughs uproariously.

“You get that Hamptons house, bitch!” Adore cheers, lifting her cup in a toast.

“Cape Cod,” Bianca corrects her.

“Right, whatever...same thing, though, amiright?”

Bianca laughs, nodding.

“Pretty much the same thing.”

“White people suck,” Adore proclaims, then looks at Courtney and adds, “No offense, boo.”

“Full offense, boo,” Bianca says. “This SoulCycle vegan Coachella cunt? She’s so part of the problem.”

“I hate Coachella,” Courtney says simply, staring her down.

“But you love Burning Man,” Adore says, and Bianca bursts out laughing again.

“White people suck,” she concludes. “But joke’s on them. Because even though they hate me, they won’t possibly be able to hate their little brown dimpled grandkids.”

Courtney scrutinizes her carefully, wondering exactly how much pain hides beneath that tough exterior. Bianca looks up and catches her eye, giving her a softer smile than she expects. She returns it happily, waving Sammy’s paw at her with a light giggle.

***

“Hey, so, about Saturday...seriously, no obligation if you’re busy,” Courtney says, sticking her head into Bianca’s trailer after checking out with Jamie.

“Oh. Yeah, no, I’m not busy.”

“Or, like, If you’re not up for it. I know you’ve got other things going on, so-”

“No, that’s…” Bianca waves her hand. “It sounds fun. I’m excited to hear you sing.”

She smiles, flashing her dimples, and Courtney feels a tingle of nervous energy in her belly. It’s been awhile since she’s gotten onstage, and she’s used to that rush of butterflies, but suddenly there’s a whole new level of anxiety. Suddenly, she has this inescapable feeling that no matter how big the crowd is, she’s going to be performing for an audience of one.

***

Bianca follows the waitress into the Rockwell’s performance space, quickly realizing that her reserved seat is with Adore and a bunch of people she’s never seen. And of course, Adore is already looking a little tipsy. Fantastic.

“Heeey Sugar Tits!” Adore slings an arm around her. “You smell good.”

“Wish I could say the same. You do know the drought’s over, right? We can bathe every day now.” Bianca wrinkles her nose.

Shea laughs, flagging the server.

“Okay, New Girl is funny. What’s your name, and what are you drinking?”

“Bianca, and…” she scans the menu quickly. “Uhhh...Ravenswood, I guess?”

“Put it on my tab,” Shea tells the server, then extends her hand to Bianca. “I’m Shea. How do you know our messy little bitch here? Adore, stop groping her, Jesus!”

Adore crosses her arms, pouting.

“Spoilsport.”

“I work with her and Court on Silver Screens,” Bianca laughs, straightening Adore’s hat for her. “And thank you.”

“Ohhh, got it,” Shea says, suddenly realizing who Bianca is. The breeder. She pinches Sasha’s thigh under the table, and her girlfriend turns around, having been fully engrossed in a pretentious conversation with Naomi at the next table about whether the collection at The Broad was still relevant since they opened the previous year.

After a few rounds of drinks and some shared appetizers, Bianca finds herself warming quite a bit to Courtney’s friends, especially Shea. There’s something about the Chicagoan that reminds her of her friends back home - well, the ones smart enough to get out of Gretna, that is.

The easy camaraderie continues as the lights dim and Alexis, the MC for the evening, steps out. She’s obviously good friends with the girls, since they are on their feet screaming for her, and their enthusiasm is infectious. And well founded, Bianca realizes, once she begins to sing a throaty rendition of Cabaretto get the crowd going.

The next performer is wonderful, a Broadway actress with a fabulous range and impressive resume. Courtney wasn’t lying about the line-up. Bianca is on her fourth glass of wine, feeling uncharacteristically relaxed, when Alexis introduces Courtney, giving the audience a kind of warning.

“If you’ve never seen our next performer...it might be hard to focus on her singing, because...well, you’ll see.” Alexis gestures to some tables in the front. “You folks are in the swooning section, I’m afraid.”

Sasha whistles and Alexis continues, “Please show a lot of love to the stunning, talented, and all around extraordinary...Ms. Courtney Hamilton!”

Bianca claps and cheers along with the group as Courtney steps onto the bright lights of the stage, and that’s when it feels like all the air is sucked out of her lungs. She’s used to the blonde being stunning, in a kind of easy, effortless way - the kind of beauty that’s annoying, because she doesn’t have to try, and so she doesn’t try. But tonight…

The woman standing on stage is the most breathtaking bombshell that Bianca has ever seen. Everything about her is sheer perfection, from the crown of her glossy blonde hair to the tip of her stiletto heel. As she steps forward, nodding her head gratefully at the applause, the high slit of her dress falls away and Alexis winks at someone in the front row of the audience.

“Told ya.”

There’s a gentle chuckle and Adore wolf whistles. Bianca gulps, sending up a silent prayer to get through this evening with her wits about her.

[isabeau25]

Get To Know Your Author

Tagged by @eastofthemoon!

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

There’s a book called Dove Isabeau that I loved as a kid, and also I loved the movie Ladyhawk, and Isabeau was one of the main characters.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos).

Room with a View (although Can’t Take the Sky From Me was a very close second  - I had to do actual math to figure it out; I’m impressed I remember how to math.)

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

I don’t have one. I never bothered to upload it. If I did, it would be the same as the one for this account. It’s my cat Nibbs laying on my foot not long after we found him in my parents’ backyard. I use it because he’s cute and fluffy, and because I don’t like pictures of me floating around the internet.

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

I love all my commenters! It’s always exciting to get the notice that someone took the time to comment and I go back and reread them all all the time.

@maychorian​ has commented on a bunch of my Voltron fics (almost all of them I think), and I’m always super excited when I see her comments because she leaves such excellent and well thought out ones.

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

Hound by story_monger I come back to because it’s so well done. The writing is fantastic, and the sense of suspense is amazing, and I really love the way it dealt with different layers of trauma and wove together the way past trauma continued to impact how present trauma was processed and dealt with. Plus the team was wonderfully tender with Keith, and he got cuddles.

Hyggelig by heyheroics I’ve gone back and reread a couple times. It is an example of the ever rare, non-romantic Keith and Lance center story. Well written and even though it’s not finished, the chapters read as short stories, so I’m not left with cliff hangers. I’m always excited when it updates.

I reread pieces from @maychorian​ all the time, particularly from the Boom Crash series and the Dream Seam series (*whispers* a lot of the time I skip straight to the cuddles. She writes the best cuddles.)

The Raised by Lions series by @eastofthemoon​ I like to go back and reread. Red and her strange furless cub are super fun to read about, and then Shiro comes along and there is even more fluff and cuddles.

Basically there’s a shortage of platonic fluff and cuddles in the Voltron fandom and when I run out, I go back and re-read my favorite cuddles.

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

I have like 12 bookmarked and 4 subscriptions. I always forget that’s a thing you can do on AO3.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

.... so many. I’ve been working on The Five Lion Cafe au lately, trying to finish up the next one (almost done *fingers crossed*), and Mermaid Rescue and Rehab Inc. is up next on my list to finish, so I’ve been picking on that. 

I’d like to get back to Babe’s in Space at some point. I have general outlines for lots of short stories in that AU, and there actually is a bigger over arching plot if I ever get to it.

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

91 subscriptions and 992 bookmarks

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

Mostly platonic physical intimacy, just because I don’t want to deal with it being labeled as romantic or shippy (I guess that’s not so much a fear of being judged as just not feeling like dealing with other people’s reactions). Once something is posted, you have no control over how it’s received or interpreted. That’s just the nature of publishing something; you have to let it go (or drive yourself crazy trying to force people to see it only the way you want, which is just not worth the time or energy).

Because of that, I sometimes pull back from writing a scene as intimate as I’d like, or I choose a slightly different approach to it, just because I don’t want to deal with seeing it labeled as a ship in the tags and comments.

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

Action sequences and creating suspense. It’s hard to translate the movie-like images in my head into words for action sequences. I watch a lot of youtube videos for reference when I’m trying to write them.

And suspense, when done well, is just a great thing to be able to do. It keeps the reader engaged and makes the piece more exciting.

Also replying to comments! They mean so much to me, and I’m so terrible at replying.

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

Not really? I guess Ronin and Tara from Epic qualify as a rarepair just because the fandom for Epic is so small. I think the idea of Ezor and Kolivan from Voltron being a crack pair (not one that ever would or should show up in canon) is hysterical, but I haven’t written anything for them yet.

I really just don’t ship much in general.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

As of December 22, 2018, I have 49 stories up on AO3, all of them finished. I never start posting a story unless it’s already done.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

So, that’s really hard to calculate. For every fandom I have what amounts to a dump document where I write random scenes and stories that I’m not sure will go any where, in addition to that I have:

Epic - 14 docs, most of those are probably single stories

ROTG - 9 docs, but I don’t think I separated out many of the WIPs from my main dump doc, so there’s probably more WIP there.

Voltron - 15 docs, but some of those documents are for series, so there’s might be multiple WIPs in the document.

And that’s just the unfinished stuff. I didn’t include the stories that are done. I usually keep those on my hard drive too because I don’t trust the internet not to suddenly eat my work.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

I keep them in my head way too often, then go back to stories I’ve set down for a couple months (or years) and don’t remember what was going to happen. I’m trying to get better about writing out at least a general outline for stories so that doesn’t happen.

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

I have co-authored with @eastofthemoon and @ladydouji. I’m kind of a flake about writing though and I’m really bad at keeping deadlines with something I just do for fun, so I don’t team up very often.

16. How did you discover AO3?

Google search for fanfiction because there wasn’t enough decent stuff on ff.net.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

I don’t think so? I don’t pay much attention so I don’t have much bases for comparison.

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

Nope.

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

I read a lot growing up (not so much now - grad school does a really good job burning you out when it comes to reading). I loved fantasy mostly, and a little bit of sci-fi, although that’s never been a super sharp distinction for me.

Patricia McKillip is my favorite author. I absolutely love the way she writes and the way she crafts stories. I really enjoyed Jane Yolen, and Bruce Coville too.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

I really like Neil Gaiman’s 8 Rules of Writing.

The most important thing you can do is write. Get the words on the paper. That’s really the hardest part. I like his last rule best though “Write your story as it needs to be written. Write it honestly and tell it as best you can.”

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

I usually know where they’re going (in my head at least, by the time I actually start getting words on the page), but sometimes they end up taking unexpected turns or new scenes show up out of now where while I’m writing. That’s part of what makes writing exciting. 

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

Nothing terrible, but a few (at least one of which went over my head until years later because they were being sarcastic).

I find I have an increasingly low reserve of energy, and things like that are not worth spending it on. I just ignore them.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

Interpersonal conflict! Why would these two normally rational people who care about each other let a thing escalate to the point of them actually fighting over it, or having it damaging their relationship, or coming to blows over it? And how do I write that in a way that doesn’t sound contrived and is in character to everyone involved.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

Right now I’m working on finishing up the next Five Lions Cafe story, and also working on the last of the Mermaid Rescue and Rehab series.

I’m also working on a story that is probably going to be called Bad Moon on the Rise, and is focused on Lance and the Red Lion’s bond (and also has quintessence vampires).

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

Yes! My brain never stops planning stories. Never.

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

Not really. Sometimes I’ll got through stretches where I write a lot, and other times my brain just melts and refuses to make words.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

Yes! Even just going back a few years, but I’ve been writing since I was in elementary school, so there has been a great deal of improvement from the epic and fully illustrated “There are dinosaur ghosts living in our playground” that I wrote in first grade (and tried to convince my teacher was true).

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

It’s actually not even up on AO3. It’s the only Narnia fanfic I ever wrote, and it’s called Refuge. One of those things that just felt unfinished and unaddressed in the Prince Caspian movie, and I like how I addressed it.

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

*Snorts* Thankfully lost to the great ether of individual fan sites that no longer exist, I had some CATS fanfics that were pretty terrible.

There’s also some Ronin Warriors stuff, and I think some stuff from the original Voltron dub, that’s pretty terrible, but I don’t have the heart to take down because people were actually kind enough to leave nice comments on them.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

The same, but hopefully better at it. I don’t really have any aspirations to be a professional writer. I’m happy just doing it for fun.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

The stories!

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

Putting the words on the page!

33. Why do you write?

Because it’s fun! And challenging! And it gets the things in my head out of my head!

Tagging: anyone who wants to. I think all the people I know on tumblr have already been tagged.

[radical-6]

Hey everyone, I received a bunch of messages asking me how I made my skirt for Kaede Akamatsu from the new Danganronpa game, Danganronpa V3. I wrote a quick guide, so if you're interested, read on...

To make my skirt, I custom-designed a musical note pattern on a purple background and uploaded it to Spoonflower, a fabric printing website. I've recently made the pattern public, so if you'd like to use it for your own cosplay, you can access it here:

http://www.spoonflower.com/designs/5978234-kaede-akamatsu-skirt-by-sinkuu

However, this was my first time working with designing/custom printing fabric, and using Spoonflower in general, so it ended up a little finicky. Spoonflower also has a lot of crazy options, so it's easy to get lost in the mess of DPIs and repeats and types of fabric you can print on. Hopefully this guide makes it...less convoluted.

So, on Spoonflower, you can print three sizes of fabric: yards, "fat quarters" (1/2 yard x 1/2 yard), and samples. What you're going to want here is yards, unless you only need a little bit more fabric and don't want to waste money on an entire extra yard.

This is what a yard looks like. To print my pattern, set the repeat setting to "basic".

Kaede's skirt has four musical bars on it, so you want to cut a yard of my pattern into three pieces. You get two four-bar pieces you can use for the body of the skirt, and then a leftover two-bar piece that you can't really use for the skirt itself, but that makes a really good waistband. When cutting between the sets of staffs, there's about 4.25" vertically between each staff, so you want to measure up (or down!) 2 1/8" vertically, and cut there to make sure to get even length pieces. Without a waistband or a hem, each skirt piece is about 14" long. THIS COULD BE A PROBLEM IF YOU ARE TALLER THAN 5'8". More on this later.

Spoonflower gives you about 41.5" of horizontal pattern per yard, so if you get two four-bar panels out of that it's 83" of skirt, plus a 41.5" waistband per yard.

This is what a fat quarter looks like. Again, set repeat to "basic". 0

It gives you one four-bar horizontal panel that's about 20.75" long. So it's useful (and cheaper!) if you just need a /little/ bit more to finish the skirt, but overall the yard is going to give you waaaaay more bang for your buck with this pattern. (83" of skirt vs 20.75" of skirt.) ​ ​How much fabric you need is completely up to you, and your measurements, and the style of skirt you choose to make. Danganronpa is unfortunately incredibly inconsistent with its art, and Kaede's skirt has been drawn as knife pleats, box pleats, no pleats at all, just gathered, and some weird sewn-down bell abomination pleat. Pick your favorite!

...Seriously, pick your favorite.

I went with knife pleats, since in the game itself they seemed to be the most common thing that came up on the skirt roulette during cutscenes. Plus, I like knife pleats. Using myself as a fabric example calculation...I have a 29" waist, and a knife-pleated or box-pleated skirt needs a rectangular block of (skirt length, here it's 14 inches) by (waist measurement x 3). So, I needed 87" inches of skirt, plus a little seam allowance. A yard gets you 83" inches of skirt, and 87" is...over that. So I ended up getting one yard, and a fat quarter. Yaaaay, math. If you do a gathered skirt, you can probably get away with only using one yard depending on how much you gather it.

Here's another reference image (waistband from the yard not pictured) of what cutting two panels out of a yard looks like, and what cutting up a fat quarter looks like.

This isn't a tutorial on how to pleat/gather a skirt. If you're looking for one, I recommend this one here: http://fattogami.tumblr.com/post/55535810050/how-to-make-a-sailor-uniform-part-2-sewing-the  Google is also your friend!

Pleats tacked down, (but no waistband) the skirt looked like:

And finished, it looked like:

--- So, why is the skirt length a potential problem for people taller than 5'8"? I'm 5'8", and I designed the pattern for myself. Danganronpa has REALLY short skirts, so I made the skirt...really short. If you're significantly taller than 5'8", there's a high chance that your ass is going to be out. You can compensate for this by making the skirts waistband sit lower on your hips, and use a mid-hip measurement for the waistband rather than a waist measurement, but it might be easier for you to just use a different pattern, or make your own. I'm sorry, really tall people. I think you're cool, and I WISH I was that tall.

Here's a picture of what I mean about my ass almost being out at 5'8", in case you are taller than that and need convincing to abandon hope, all ye enter here.

--

Another big question is, "what fabric should I pick"? Again, it's up to you. I used kona cotton because it's slightly nicer than regular cotton. Since I did a pleated skirt, I also interfaced the entire thing with featherweight interfacing because I like my pleats extra crispy. Any cotton should be fine for either pleated OR gathered skirts, or I guess twill for pleats if you're really fancy and have money falling out of your pockets. Maybe a heavyweight knit like jersey for gathered if you're again, fancy, and have money falling out of your pockets.

--

A few final notes:

1) Spoonflower fabrics tend to fade a little bit in the wash, since they're printed on. The fade is more pronounced with dark inks. Since this is a black pattern printed on dark purple, DO NOT put it in the washing machine, or pre-wash it, or post wash it. If you need to clean it, either spot clean it very carefully by hand or dry clean it.

2) This isn't a very high-contrast pattern, so while it shows up great in real life to real human eyes, it doesn't photograph well. If you're very particular about photoshoots, you're going to have to be careful about the lighting you're in, or be prepared to do some photo editing after the fact. Unless you've got a really nice all-over light source, or can point a light directly at the skirt, it tends to wash out to just a plain purple skirt in pictures.

3) The song that appears on the skirt isn't canonically accurate (I made it before the game came out in JP and Kaede's full design sheet was released), but it IS a real song! It's actually "The First Noel", but slightly bastardized. I erased some slurs between notes, removed some crescendos/decrescendos, and took out some staff markers and clefs to make it repeat seamlessly. In retrospect, I should have made it "I Stepped on the Cat".

4) If you use this pattern to make a skirt, I don't need credit, but hey, feel free to send me a picture of what you make! I'd love to see it.

5) I'm finished with NDRV3, so I know the entire game plot/spoilers. If you want to crawl into somewhere private (like my inbox) with spoilers, feel free, but keep spoilers off this post and anywhere public. Be considerate to fans who are waiting for the official English release in September.

6) With that said, absolutely crawl into my inbox if you don't like Shuuichi Saihara. I love talking shit about him.

I'm not super active on tumblr these days, but you can either contact me here, or @skelefiend on Instagram!

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 2

Chapter: 2/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Forgetting to eat, fainting Excerpt: "You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth." “I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him. Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right? I was just teasing!"

Speak easy on the grapevine Keep shufflin' in a shoe shine Old tin lizzy, do it 'til you're dizzy Give it all you got until you're put out of your misery

A gentle tapping on his door interrupted Janus' fitful attempt at sleep. It couldn't be morning already, could it?

He chalked it up to sleep deprivation when the sight of Patton's face in the doorway actually made him smile. After all, irritation flooded in soon after. Janus had been trying (and failing) to sleep .

"'Morning!" Patton said, his own smile a touch strained.

Janus hid a yawn behind his hand and blinked slowly at Patton until his higher reasoning kicked in. "Good morning, Patton. I assume you need something from me? Or have you developed a magnetic attraction to my door?"

"What?" Patton stopped leaning on the doorframe and stood up straight. "No, I-- I was just about to make breakfast and I thought I'd come see if you wanted to join me."

Janus could practically feel the steam coming out of ears as he tried to come up with a way to decline that wouldn't hurt Patton's feelings. "I don't usually eat first thing in the morning," he said, only just managing not to stammer.

"Coffee, then? Black coffee."

"Like my soul," Janus said automatically.

Unfortunately, Patton seemed to take this as an agreement to join him. "Great!"

His smile wavered a little and his eyes kept flickering to the top of Janus' head-- "Just a moment." Janus ducked back into his room, put his hat back on, and followed Patton down the hall, surveying himself with distaste. His outfit was wrinkled after a night of tossing and turning, and that simply wouldn't do. Janus focused and watched in satisfaction as the creases receded from his clothing.

Then he did some mental math.

Even now, there was no chance that Janus was Patton's first choice of companion, and Patton would have at least had the good sense to warn him if any hostile parties awaited them in the kitchen. At the moment, Logan, Virgil, and Roman all counted as 'hostile parties.' This being the “light” side, Remus didn’t factor in. Ergo, Janus and Patton must have been the only ones awake or willing to come out.

The eerie silence lent credence to that conclusion. The Light side was usually full of such spirited bickering that Janus and Remus could hear it on the other side of the curtain if they listened.

It was a bit odd that Virgil and Logan weren't showing their faces. Virgil in particular couldn't have known Janus was there unless Patton had told him, but Patton had given no indication last night that he was planning on speaking to anyone.

It was quite the mystery, and Janus was more than happy to let it lie until he was better-rested. Last night's headache had returned with a vengeance and exhaustion clawed at the corners of his mind. His capelet may as well have been wet denim, the way it weighed down his shoulders.

"Black coffee," Patton handed Janus last night's ouroboros mug, "espresso-ly for you!"

Janus shook himself. He hadn't even realized they'd arrived in the kitchen. "Thank you," he said, for once at a loss for something sarcastic to say. He thought about much smoother his day would go if he didn't have this budding migraine to contend with and quickly swallowed down the aspirin that appeared in his palm.

"You're sure you don't want breakfast?" Patton asked. "I could make something light. After all, you should know better than anyone not to skip breakfast, Professor Self Care."

"I'm not skipping anything," Janus said, trying to keep a lid on his irritation. He leaned back against the counter and forced himself to take another long swallow of bitter black coffee. "Just delaying it."

"Okaaay," Patton said, sing-song, "but you're gonna feel icky later."

Janus almost responded that he felt pretty 'icky’ now and the nagging wasn't helping, but managed to keep his mouth shut. It didn't help that Patton was technically correct.

Now there was an uncomfortable thought.

Janus leaned against the counter and let his mind wander, idly watching Patton crack eggs into a skillet.

Janus had work to do. Now that Thomas was prepared to listen, Janus' subtler methods of suggestion would serve him no longer. He had thought patterns to dismantle and others to build, not to mention that he wanted to see Remus and find some time to take a nap if possible. And of course, he would have to find time to eat breakfast. Just not now. Not with Patton.

However… Patton's aversion to being alone meant that Janus would have to wait until another side emerged so he could pass off the baton.

Speaking of…

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"I understand Roman's hesitancy to show his face--"

"Hey."

"--but surely Virgil or Logan aren't scared of me. I'm a bit surprised Virgil hasn't shown up to try to run me off."

Patton bit his lip, his brow creasing. Janus hadn't been trying to upset him, but Patton looked like he'd just been forced to give his favorite puppy up for adoption. "Probably not." A beat. "Every time I try to talk to Virgil, he just says he's 'going through it' and won't open the door."

Janus hurriedly raised his mug to his lips so Patton wouldn't see his smile. That certainly sounded like Virgil. "Surely Logan has been more forthcoming."

"I knocked on his door a few times, too, but he won't answer at all. I think he's upset with me."

Now that was an interesting development. And problematic, because that meant Janus was going to have to babysit Patton until something gave. "I thought Logan didn't get upset."

"You heard him yesterday. He said we didn't care about him!"

Janus studied the seams of his gloves, feigning disinterest. "Yes, I did think he was being a little melodramatic. Of course I didn't hurt him."

"He wasn't being dramatic!" Patton insisted. "If Logan feels like we don't care about him… It must have been going on for a while, and none of us noticed. We're supposed to be his friends!"

"I'm sure he'll get over it soon," Janus goaded.

"I don't know, Janus." Patton fixed him with a sorrowful look before turning back to the stove. "I've never known him to get this upset about anything. It feels like everything got really bad all at once and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what to do."

Janus downed the rest of his coffee and immediately went for a refill. Of course Patton couldn't fix it; the Lights needed more than nagging and platitudes, more than just the Band-Aid solution of superficial apologies with no changed behavior. No, they needed someone to help them introspect, someone smart enough to see through their self-absorbed nonsense.

"Penny for your thoughts," Patton said.

Janus didn't jump like he'd been electrocuted. "My thoughts are worth far more than that," he said, recovering smoothly.

"Can I get a friends and family discount?" Patton asked. He switched off the stove and carefully levered the eggs he'd fried onto a bagel.

"I was thinking about all the work I have to do today," Janus said. It was never too early to start dropping hints.

"Don't forget about breakfast,” Patton said. Nagged. “I could bring you something later, if you want."

Something in Janus' head clicked. Roman and Logan both seemed like the type to get caught up in their work and forget to eat. Patton had probably grown used to babying them. "Don't worry, Patton. Unlike certain other Sides I can actually take care of myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it would make perfect sense for the embodiment of self-care to forget something as basic as eating ."

Patton circled around the counter and hopped onto one of the barstools. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be pushy."

He looked at Janus with an expression of earnest regret, his eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. Somewhere deep inside him, Janus' heart pounded. He set his coffee mug aside. Patton must have brewed it strong; it usually took at least three cups to get his heart racing like this and he hadn't even finished his second yet.

"Janus?" Patton looked at him over the tops of his glasses.

"Hm?"

"Did you hear me?"

"...Yes."

Patton smiled. "I asked if you wanted to work in the living room. You know, since, um. It's just gonna be the two of us."

"No," said Janus automatically.

"No?"

"Yes."

"Now I'm confused."

So am I, Janus nearly said. He schooled his expression behind the distraction of another sip of coffee. "I have business with Remus I need to attend to." Why was Patton's bereft expression so unbearably painful? "Maybe later we could," don't, "play cards again."

Patton's sun-bright smile was so dazzling that Janus nearly had to look away. "I'd love that!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out before he could sign himself up for any more bonding activities.

--

The Dark Side was pitch black. Janus stood very, very still. "Remus?" he called tentatively, not wanting to interrupt if Remus was focused on a project.

A spotlight clicked on, illuminating Remus standing in the center of a stage. "Oh!" he said, glancing in Janus' general direction. "Hi!"

Janus looked down with annoyance to find that his sensible black oxfords had been replaced with pointe shoes. He changed them back with a concentrated effort. "What's this?"

"I was working on a nightmare for Thomas." In a blink, Remus restored the living room. He flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, revealing blood stains on the tips of his own pointe shoes. “Little early for day drinking, don’t you think?”

Janus realized he was still holding the coffee mug Patton had given him. He switched the contents out with water and took a long drink. The aspirin had barely touched his headache and the nagging, low-level pain invited in nausea and lightheadedness. Better to take care of that before it escalated into something worse.

He sat beside Remus on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew in the process. “You have no idea what it’s like over there.” He straightened his hat and squinted at Remus' shoes. “Wait. A nightmare about ballet?”

“You remember Black Swan?”

“Oh. Well. As much as I’d love to waste your time when you clearly have something better to do, I can always come back later.”

“No, no.” Remus changed his pointe shoes back into boots. “You look like shit. What did they do to you?”

“I do not!” Janus set his water down and summoned a hand mirror. He did look, perhaps, a little tired, but that was easily fixed with a small illusion. He sent the hand mirror back to his room and didn’t glare at Remus. “I do not.”

Remus’ smile shattered into a laugh. “Go on, what did they do to you? Wrap you up in a blanket and make you cookies? Wash your feet with scented oils?”

“Yes, right after the parade they held in my honor.”

"And then they all took turns sucking your--"

"Please put that image in my head."

Remus just gave an apologetic shrug and settled back into the couch cushions. "So what's really going on, hm? It hasn't even been a day and you're already running back to me to bitch about it. They’re not still fighting, are they?”

“Ugh, Remus.” Janus tilted his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his brow in an exaggerated swoon. Still, he was careful to keep his voice low in case anyone was listening. “They're all locked in their rooms pouting. Except for Patton, who keeps following me around like a lost little puppy. "It’s so…" A litany of words sprang to Janus' mind; to his horror 'endearing' was among them. "Ugh," he said, waving a hand vaguely.

“You like it.” Remus’ grin was positively demonic.

“Oh, yes, I do so enjoy having a nagging little tagalong,” Janus said, but it was too late. Remus had latched onto the idea like barnacles to a boat's hull.

"You like him !"

"Oh, yes, Remus, I've been planning out our wedding all day. I just love the sad little puppy dog look he gives me whenever I try to leave the room. It was love at first self-righteous lecture."

Remus' grin widened until it threatened to split his face (a very real possibility when he was involved). "The snakey doth protest too much, methinks."

" No, I--"

“What’s your plan?" Remus interrupted. "Going to seduce him? You going to write a love poem ?”

“Oh, definitely ," Janus sneered. "What rhymes with ‘exasperating’?”

“Masturbating? Kind of a slant rhyme, but I think you could sell it.”

“Charming.”

“Hey.” Remus shrugged. “You came to me for romantic advice.”

“Yes, that was why I came to see you. Not to complain about how The Great American Nag won’t stop following me around and sighing wistfully about how his friends are sad, boohoo.”

Remus’ eyes sparkled. “You do have a plan to deal with him.”

“One that doesn’t involve seduction via dirty love poetry, I’m afraid," Janus said, making an exaggerated pouty face with accompanying hand gestures.

“Boring," Remus replied.

“But you’ll listen anyway because you love me ever so?”

“Like flies love dookie.”

Janus held up a hand to stop Remus from actually summoning a cloud of flies. “If I can at least get Logan out of his room, then Patton will stop following me around and I can get back to--”

“Lusting over Daddy in the shadows?”

Janus took a long, measured breath. “I’m not lusting--”

“Face it, Snakehole."

"Ew."

"You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth."

“I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him.

Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right? I was just teasing!"

If Remus were any other side, Janus would have thrown an insult at him and made a tactical retreat. Instead, he stood, fussing with his cape so he wouldn’t have to look Remus in the eye. “I have to go speak with Logan.”

“That means I’m right, right?” Remus cackled again, longer this time. “Careful, Jay, you’re getting predictable.”

“No, this was all according to plan,” Janus said, already walking away. “You’re just a pawn in my vast chess game.”

“I prefer checkers,” Remus called after him. “Good luck! Don't forget to wear a condom!"

--

Janus chose to appear right outside Logan’s door, the better to avoid an accidental run-in with Patton. Despite Remus’ taunting, Janus really didn’t want Patton to know what he was up to, and not because he thought it might hurt Patton's feelings, and certainly not because he feared the effect that Patton’s starry-eyed gratitude might have on him. He just preferred to handle his dealings in the dark, that was all.

Strategy remained something of an afterthought. Remus' teasing had left Janus too flustered to focus, and now he was outside Logan's door.

Well.

First, he had to get in. Then he could draw the details out of Logan and improvise from there.

Janus knocked on the door with the back of his hand. “Logan? It’s Janus. I had a question for you, if you’re not too busy.”

It was gentle flattery, but flattery all the same: Janus humbling himself before Logan’s intellect. It was also an appeal to Logan’s natural curiosity; surely he would want to know what it was Janus needed help with.

Sure enough, Logan opened the door a crack. His eyes were blank behind his glasses, his mouth a straight line. “Did I hear you correctly? You want my help?”

“No.” Janus couldn't help but roll his eyes. “I was hoping to have an intellectual discussion with Roman. Isn’t his door blue?” His head throbbed and he realized with some irritation that he had forgotten to eat something before getting on with his business. Patton had been right after all.

Logan didn’t budge. “What’s your question?”

“Logan, I’m surprised at you. I'd think you would know better than to leave a guest standing in the hall.” “I'm sorry, but I don’t desire company at this time.”

“Well.” Janus straightened up. “Maybe I will ask Roman instead. For all the good it'll do me."

It was an obvious bluff: Janus weighing Logan’s jealousy against his anger.

The scales tipped.

Logan opened the door properly and stepped aside. “Come in.”

Janus fought to keep the smile out of his voice. “Thank you.”

Logan shut the door behind him and crossed to the opposite side of the room. He neither sat nor offered Janus a seat, only stared at him with cold expectation. “Your question, Deceit.”

“Janus.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Janus.”

“Very well.” Logan stared him down. “Your question, Janus.”

“What’s that? ” Janus had never been the best at eye contact whereas Logan insisted on it. Janus had flicked his eyes away from Logan’s icy gaze and caught sight of a line of sickly blue bruises on the side of Logan’s neck. An instinctive wave of guilt made his stomach clench.

“They are bruises,” Logan said matter-of-factly, though his facial expression displayed an intense desire to talk about something else. “Bruises form when capillaries, small blood vessels near the skin’s surface, are broken, usually due to an impact with something hard.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Something like a wooden shepherd’s crook, for example.”

Janus chose to avoid meeting Logan’s gaze; his capelet was sliding off his shoulder and he needed to adjust it. “You know as well as I do that injuries only affect us if we believe in them. Or have you forgotten Remus’ little throwing star lobotomy?”

“I’m aware,” Logan said stiffly.

Another dizzying wave of guilt threatened to knock Janus over. He took a half-step backwards to keep his footing. “Look. If it’s any consolation, Logan, I wouldn’t have done that if I had known it was going to hurt you.”

Logan’s face twitched with something that Janus recognized a split second later-- suppressed rage. “Janus,” he said, his voice somehow even. “I do not believe you.”

"Oh, yes," Janus spat, every word laced with venom, "You're right . I love causing unnecessary bodily harm to other Sides, that sounds exactly like me."

Logan gave a slight shake of his head. “You-- all of you --have made it abundantly clear that my presence is neither welcomed nor, in many cases, even tolerated. You would have done whatever it took to get me out of the way so you could pursue your agenda, and the others would likely not have stopped you even if they had known. Or rather, had they tried to stop you, it would have been in the service of doing just that: stopping you, rather than in service of assisting me ." Janus' defensive anger gave way to something very like concern, but Logan was still going: "They have given no indication they care about me; in fact, I believe they have grown to dislike me.” Logan broke off, breathing heavily. He didn’t seem to notice the way his fingers dug into his neck. "So, no, Janus. I do not believe you. Kindly ask your question and leave."

“I…” said Janus, for the sake of not making Logan feel judged while he came up with something of substance to respond. He hadn't been expecting that . “Didn’t Patton come check on you?”

“He left,” Logan said. “I waited, and he left.”

“You wanted him to apologize,” Janus guessed. “You wanted him to notice that he’d hurt you and apologize for it.”

Logan adjusted his tie. “I do not feel, and therefore I do not want.”

Janus didn’t even have to respond to that, only raise his eyebrows and look at the bruises that marred Logan’s skin (the bruises he had left).

“Janus, I do not understand what you stand to gain from this conversation,” Logan said. “I don't believe you would have come here just to watch me embarrass myself. Did you have a question, or was there something else you wanted from me?"

Janus ignored the question. He had just landed on his strategy. “Would you like to learn something, Logan?”

“Always.”

“Even though you might not like it?” “It is irrational to dislike knowledge.”

“So it doesn’t bother you that 85 is divisible by 17?”

For a moment, Logan looked like he might argue. Then he sighed, and might even have smiled a bit. “Go on.”

"You," Janus pointed at him, "have been derelict in your duty." He waited for Logan to look suitably offended before he continued, "Not as Logic, but as a friend."

Logan frowned, not offended, but puzzled. "I have?"

Janus thought it might be a bit too much to change Logan's room into a stage, but it was alright; he didn't need the physical change to feel the spotlight on him, to see Logan sitting, rapt, in the audience. “If you haven’t told the others how you feel, you have no right to expect them to just know . Patton and Roman especially have a difficult time intuiting how others are feeling unless you spoon-feed it to them. You cannot lock yourself away and expect them to come crawling on their knees, begging for your forgiveness. You need to communicate. You need to tell them how you feel .”

“How,” Logan said drily, “does one ‘spoon-feed’ emotions?”

“Please keep trying to deflect; you're so good at it."

“But you’re saying that I should explain to the others that my f…”

“ Go on.”

“Feelings are hurt.” Logan winced.

“Growth is often uncomfortable,” Janus said, adding a silent ‘ not that I would know’ for his own benefit.

“And you’re sure they’ll listen?” Logan, for the first time since Janus had known him, looked unsure. He adjusted his tie, which was already immaculate, and stared at Janus.

“One can only hope, since they claim to be your friends," Janus said to reassure him. "And you know, use ‘“I” statements’ instead of ‘“you” statements,’ you remember elementary school.”

A pause.

“Janus? Please elaborate on one thing for me."

"Yes?"

"Why are you helping me? Last time we were in proximity, you gave no indication whatsoever that you cared for me or my 'feelings,' nor for anyone else's. What changed?"

"It's complicated," Janus said, trying to evade the question.

"It's my job to handle 'complicated.' So tell me: Why are you helping me?"

Oh, Janus just loved feeling cornered. His eyes kept finding their way to the bruises on Logan's neck, tangible proof of all the pain Janus had caused. "Quid pro quo," he lied. "Patton misses you and I owe him a debt." His head swam and he forced himself to stand perfectly still to try to keep his balance. Blue bruises dominated his vision.

"Falsehood."

"Fine." Janus curled his lip. "Because I felt sorry for you--"

"Janus," Logan said in a tone of patient annoyance, like an irritated schoolteacher, "please."

Janus took a breath and tried to swallow down the sick guilt clawing at his chest. He wished Logan would have offered him a chair. Now was probably a bad time to ask. “It's because I’m sorry . I--” The room tilted sideways and he staggered in a bid to keep his balance, as there was nothing to steady himself against. “I’m sorry I did that.” He gestured at Logan's neck, fighting for breath. Every word seemed to require twice as much oxygen as usual. “It was wrong of me to silence you. And…” Deep breath. “Even though I thought it wouldn’t affect you--” Telling the truth didn’t usually hurt like this; he felt a little like he was going to be sick. What was going on? “It did, and I'm sorry."