#I think he’ll be polite. but afterwards there are no guarantees

[astronomodome]

Also place your bets now on what tango (notorious game design fanatic and generalized hatergirl) will think of the MCC minigames

#I think he’ll be polite. but afterwards there are no guarantees #MCC #tangotek #astro speaks

[arvinsescape]

Fight the good fight

Summary: You’re doing an interview for an upcoming movie and get treated with less respect than your male co-stars and they aren’t having it.

W/C: 1.9K

Warnings: Mentions of stress eating and struggles with food.

A/N: Please note that i have in no way intended for this to come across in a negative way in terms of weight. I have struggled personally with stress eating and i understand the unhealthy relationship that you have with food in the end and that is what i am talking about. I think everyone is beautiful, no matter what size or shape you may be, it’s what’s on the inside that counts!

You’d been in the spotlight for a long time. You’d started your acting career at the age of seven and had a really successful career. You were 23 now and had naturally moved into more adult themed films. You’d been really lucky to be cast alongside Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet in an upcoming thriller. You were playing Holland’s love interest who ends up getting stalked by Chalamet’s character. You were really lucky that you got on so well with the two, the theme of the film could be quite difficult, and it was good to be able to have a laugh with your co-stars afterwards. During filming you’d developed a special relationship with Tom, you’d had to do a lot of scenes together that required the two of you to spend a lot of time with each other and getting to know each other inside and out. You’d gotten closer and naturally a real-life love relationship happened.

You were doing press with your co-stars and you’d been in interviews all day. To say you were tired would be putting it lightly. The day hadn’t gone so bad, some interviews better than others. You’d gathered this as soon as you turned 18, the questions shifted from being about the film to being about you and tended to be quite sexist in nature. You’d learned to deal with it over the years and some interviewers weren’t so bad, you’d not put up with it too much today. You were hoping that this final interview would run smoothly, and you could get into bed, cuddle up with Tom and sleep the night away.

“I can’t wait for this last interview; I love my job, but press can be so tiring!” Timothée said as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. You were all sat in position, waiting for the interview to start, you were situated in the middle of them.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” You agreed.

“Do you guys wanna borrow some of my energy, I have loads spare.” Tom laughed; he was always the more energised of the three of you. This pulled a laugh from both of you as the interviewer started. He seemed nice enough, but you’d been sat there almost five minutes before he actually addressed you.

“So Y/N? How did you find getting to play alongside Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet?” Here we go. Although you didn’t mind answering questions like this and they were quite tame in comparison to some questions, it was more the fact that at this point both Tom and Timothée had been asked more direct questions about their parts in the film and you hadn’t. You hoped this wasn’t going to go in the direction you thought it was.

“Yeah, it was amazing! They are both lovely guys, it was an honour.” You answered in a polite manner. Maybe you were tired and read too much into the question.

“So did you diet for the film Y/N?”

“Not really.” You laughed, not entirely sure were this was going.

“Did you work out at all?” Again, where was this going?

“Not really. Not more than I usually do.”

“Well I just thought maybe you had been doing. Your legs looked great!” Here we go. You cleared your throat before you answered.

“Is that what you took away from watching it?” You teased, trying to keep the interview light-hearted.

“Well no. But it certainly was a standout feature of yours.” The interviewer laughed. Tom and Timothée didn’t, they knew how much questions like this annoyed you and it made them feel uncomfortable. You were here to promote a movie.

“I’ll remember that for my next film. When the director says he’ll pay a load of money for a dialect coach, I’ll just tell them not to bother. People will be more interested in my legs than my acting!” You answered in a jokey manner, this pulled a laugh from your two male co-stars.

“No no! I mean your acting was amazing Y/N, don’t get me wrong! But I feel like a good body deserves a compliment, that’s all!” The interviewer tried to joke, this made you uncomfortable.

“Timothée your acting was amazing but maybe you should have worked out more with me, your arms looked smaller than mine.” Tom joked as he too tried to shift the attention away from talks of your body. Timothée quickly catching on as he feigned upset before laughing and flexing his arm.

“You wish Tom, you wish.”

The interview continued on and whilst you got no direct questions about your acting or your role the attention wasn’t on you or your body. Until it was.

“So Y/N? You’re 23 now, right? Have you thought about having a family?” You groaned at the question.

“Yeah, I want a family but when the time feels right.”

“Of course! You wouldn’t want to prematurely end your career I suppose?”

“Why would that end my career. Loads of actors have children and carry on acting.” You fired back. You really hated this question because you could guarantee that if either of the boys were asked this question, it would not be followed up with insinuations that it would be career ending.

“Well not many women.”

“If you believe that, I’ll assume you’ve not done much research.” You shot back. You were visibly annoyed now, which didn’t go unnoticed by the males either side of you.

“I don’t think Y/N has to answer that! She answered your question about a family so maybe we should leave it at that, yeah? It’s Y/N’s life and I think she should be left to live it as she wants.” Timothée defended you. The interviewer shrugged but left it at that. Tom had tensed slightly at the exchange but ultimately kept quiet. That wouldn’t last long as the interviewer brought up his next question.

“Y/N? You have had a struggle with food I’ve read?” The question threw you off guard, yes, you’d recently been open about your battle with stress eating and your unhealthy relationship with food, but you weren’t prepared for the question. Usually you were prepared beforehand, and the interviewer would tell you if they were bringing it up, it was sort of a requirement of yours. You glanced at your manager off screen who looked as shocked as you felt.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand the question. It’s not relevant to the film that I’m here promoting.” You answered carefully.

“No, no of course but you seem to be doing better now than you were a few years ago.” He pushed. Tom tensed further, he knew about your past struggles, and how much talking about it unprepared upset you. “There was a period of time where you were quite big.”

“Erm. I’m really sorry but do you have any questions about the film? I’m not comfortable talking about this.” You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, Tom’s hand shot out to your thigh in comfort, he knew you were getting anxious.

“I was just wondering if you had a problem with that part of your life. You know being bigger?”

“Listen. It’s not that at all. I have no issue with people’s weight, if that’s where you’re trying to go. I’ve talked about this and I absolutely believe that people should be whatever size makes them happy, we are all beautiful just as we are, and I genuinely believe that. What I talked about is the dangers and struggles I had with food. Yes, I was bigger, but my issue was not with my weight, it was with my unhealthy relationship with food and what I was doing to myself through that.” You answered, you felt frustrated, uncomfortable and you were beyond tired now, just wanting to get out of the interview. You took a deep breath before you spoke. “Look, can we just move away from this?” You pleaded.

The interviewer threw his hands up in defence. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.”

“You weren’t, though were you?” Tom’s voice startled all of you. “You were trying to make it sound like she has an issue with bigger people, which as she has spoken about extensively, she doesn’t. You were pushing her into answering a question she didn’t want to answer. You brought her weight up for no plausible reason, I think it’s you who has the problem with bigger people, if I’m being honest. So what she was bigger? She looked as beautiful then as she does now, as all women do. It’s because of people like you that women struggle with body image and it’s not fair, it has to stop.” Tom ranted as his face went red, he was annoyed you could tell that much. Your heart soared that he was defending not just you, but all women.

“You have been consistently rude to her. I don’t think I’ve heard a single question directed at her that was to do with the film. I hate that men like you think it’s okay to ask women these sorts of questions. You commented on her diet and working out as well as her intentions for a family and if it would harm her career. Why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because she’s a woman and you think it’s okay, you seem to think that she doesn’t deserve the respect of being asked the same questions that men do. It’s not right and it needs to stop, she has worked just as hard as us to make sure this film is as good as it can be and she deserves the respect, as all women do.” He finished as he grabbed your hand, stood up and left the interview. You in tow, completely in awe of him.

“Yeah man. Do better.” Timothée said as he followed, leaving the interviewer shocked and humiliated.

Tom took you backstage. He dropped your hand and took a deep breath before turning around to face you.

“I’m sorry I jumped in like that. It’s not that I don’t think you can handle it, I’m just so sick of men like him. I know that you can handle people like that, but you shouldn’t have to and that was the point I was trying to make I guess.” He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s alright. I’m happy you did. Thank you. it’s nice to know that women don’t have to fight this fight alone and yes, I could’ve handled it but in a way I’m glad it annoys you as much as it does me. I think it will be important for the younger women in your fan base to know that you stick up for women and hold them equal to men. It’s an important message.” You said as you hugged him and kissed his chest. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“It just makes me sad that you have to put up with this kind of thing.”

“I know. But hopefully we can make a change. We need to keep fighting the good fight.”

You stayed like that for a while before pulling apart and making your way back to your hotel room. It’d been a long day, but you were glad you had your co-stars there to defend you. Glad to finally be snuggled up in bed with Tom.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Lately, everything has been terrible and stressful can I please get some fluff between sole and a married romanced companion doing married couple stuff?

(Heyy, I recognize you from my Skyrim blog! Hope everything starts getting better, whatever is going on)

(This is one of those things where if ya'll want a little drabble with a specific character..just ask! This may be more of a romantic fluff thing because i don't really know how to specifically make it about them being married //although I am thinking of writing wedding Headcanons// but you get the gist.))

Cait:

•She never thought she would ever find herself here. Surely, she thought, she would've been beaten to death or overdosed before love ever would've been in the cards. So, it would be a vast understatement to say she's sometimes at a loss for words when she looks at you. Her wife/husband..damn that felt good.

•Often times you are privileged to the more tender side of Cait, the side of her that allows her to be completely at ease. During these times, she'll allow you to kiss some of her scars- her face flushing a furious red similar to one of her hair. She usually isn't the sappy type, but if you tell her that you love them as much as you love her..cue the waterworks.

•It's maybe not the romantic gesture, but she finds herself consistently sharpening your knives when you aren't around- placing them back in your knapsack before you get home. Partially accredited to her want for your safety and otherwise well being.

•If you have long enough hair, she sometimes will braid it in one of those fancy four strand braids..you know..to keep it out of your face for combat.

•Bunch of nights spent on the roof of red rocket sipping crappy warm beer but neither of you caring, much too invested in each other's presence to be picky.

Curie:

•She keeps a very strict journaling of her research records...she also keeps one detailing every little aspect of you that she loves. She isn't exactly sure why she started doing this, but..it quickly becomes a post-war like scrapbook of the two of you. The biggest picture with tons of little hearts around it is the one of the two of you on your wedding day.

•You can sometimes find her uncontrollably grinning whenever she takes off her lab gloves and sees her wedding ring. She doesn't dare ever take it off.

•The second you get sick she is there by your side, the whole "in sickness" part of her vows surely weren't just for tradition.

Danse:

•Just as you wear his, Danse never parts with your dog tags. Between them and his ring, they may as well be a part of him. Danse also has your initials engraved on the gauntlets of his power armour.

•Danse is surprisingly physically affectionate. As such, there are many instances where your ever so serious husband will stop you, running his thumb over your cheek before randomly giving you a chaste kiss. Afterwards he almost always follows the action up with something along the lines of "I'll never understand how I've became lucky enough to be able to call you mine."

•Enjoys you keeping him company when he works on power armour or weapons. Even if you have no skill in blacksmithing, he will insist that you join him. Just imagine it- a warm wasteland afternoon, Dogmeat laying out in the sun, some tune playing over the radio while a sweaty, tank top wearing Danse getting you to mod weapons with him.

Deacon:

•Deacon easily becomes very protective over you, who can blame him? His luck with marriage hasn't been the best...but then again..neither has your's. The more serious side of your relationship will always be the lingering fear of losing each other..it's good enough to make you hold each other closer at night.

•Late night snack breaks while the radio plays and the two of you dance around together is a must have for each night.

•You two are now formally known as the only married couple of the Railroad. Congrats.

Gage:

•Totally has gotten a tattoo of your name. Let's face it, you probably have one of his as well.

•Loves spoiling you as much as he possibly can without crossing the line as your "right-hand" man. Gangs can't know too much. Well, they already know you're married..but you know..

•Doesn't drink very often, matter of fact he used to despise it. However, he soon sees the merriment in it via drunken antics with just you in your own privacy. Oh, expanding upon this..it's sort of a morning ritual for the two of you to watch the sunrise and drink some nuka-quantum to get the day going.

Hancock:

•The people of Goodneighbor view the two of you like some cool political power couple. It's neat. With that reputation also comes your husband seeking your counsel in political matters, let's just face it, he sometimes needs some guidance on how to be more strict without breaking his "code".

•Serves as a wonderful listener. I know, bare minimum- but seriously, he is incredibly wise when it comes to everyday strife. Plus, there isn't anyone else he'd rather listen to than his sweet sunshine.

•Often presents you with lavish gifts that you probably don't want to know where he got the funds for. Doesn't matter.

Macready:

•He probably will have warned you a thousand times over before marriage but by marrying you, Duncan has to come into the big picture. So, marrying Mac means adopting yourself another little one and becoming your own perfect family.

•As such, a lot of the fluffier times have to do with all of you bonding. Be it making some strange wasteland alternative to pancakes in the morning or going out together to go shoot cans off the fence- life is pretty good.

•Mac becomes at ease whenever he feels completely secure. This will bleed over into every aspect of him, meaning you'll often times find him being less awkward with flirting with you and he also isn't as guarded.

Maxson:

•Although the two of you both uphold your duties to a tee, you always make sure to have time dedicated to the two of you. Regarding this, Arthur is completely in awe during the first few months of your marriage. He knew he wanted you, he just didn't ever imagine it would happen like this, plus being such a young newlywed surely puts an extra pep in his step.

•On some of the off days where he can just have you all to himself: he likes to play chess, take walks, and simply cuddle the hours away.

•I also believe it's worth mentioning that Arthur occasionally leaves you heartfelt love letters around where you'll get them. So even in the days he can't spend devoted to you, at least you'll have that.

Nick:

•Slow dancing? Oh hell yes. Slow dances in the agency to songs like "Easy Living" are a common occurrence for the two of you.

•You'll never doubt how much he loves you, I can guarantee that much. Nick is nothing if not a romantic.

Piper:

•Date nights spent enjoying some power noodles as she screws with the robot vendor.

•Also a repeat offender of leaving love notes for you to find. Only she gets embarrassed if you bring them up. She's happy you like them, but..don't say anything.

•Nat is also a part of the family. Just so you know!

Preston:

•Regularly finds himself admiring you, not in the strictly surface way either. He just can't get over how wonderful you've made his life from the moment you entered it.

•Garvey loves taking you for some safe wasteland foraging, maybe not the most splendid married couple outing but, eh, it works!

X6-88:

•If given the opportunity, he'll sometimes play some songs for you if you happen to find a piano that still functions.

•The whole "married" thing sometimes confuses him. He loves you, but is he supposed to treat you any differently? Probably not- but he still wonders every once in a while

#fallout 4 #fallout #paladin danse #fo4 companions #fallout companions #danse #elder maxson #porter gage #curie #deacon #arthur maxson #cait #hancock #x6 88 #brotherhood of steel #fo4 #macready #piper wright #nick valentine #preston #preston garvey

[luna-the-moth]

Crimson Rivulets (SFW) Pt.1

Alright, since Lucifer won first place in the poll, I’ll start off with the Avatar of Pride himself! This was supposed to be a hc/scenario, but I suppose this jumped out at me! GN! reader, and SFW. This’ll be a series, so I’ll link each part as they come out! 

Word count: 2.1k words

This is a Vampire!Lucifer AU and (SFW) Modern! CEO Lucifer AU

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Vampire!Lucifer AU (SFW)

A pureblood vampire, scorned by his father, and cast out with his siblings. From a young age, Lucifer had learned to take care of himself, along with his brothers. As the eldest, he felt a strong urgency and need to shield and protect his siblings, at any cost. Even at the expense of his pride.

Before stepping out of his father’s light, Lucifer had been one of the most prestigious vampires; the most sought-after. Fellow purebloods, half-bloods, and turned vampires alike had flung themselves at him, left and right.

In truth, Lucifer had no interest in any of them. Why would he distract himself, when he was supposed to inherit the family business and fortune? As the eldest son of the household, he was expected to be the pinnacle of class, intelligence; the embodiment for everything a pureblood represents.

He was known by many titles and honorifics, having obtained various positions of high status throughout his eternal lifetime. Governor, count, high priest, etc. But the name you know him as now, is Lucifer, CEO of Morningstar Corp.

The same Morningstar Corp., where you were going to apply for. Specifically, the open occupation of a personal assistant. You had been searching for a job close to the city, with decent benefits and stability. Which is quite odd, as Lucifer was known for his short temper, and had a reputation of going through assistants at least once a month.

Along with the fact that he was one of the most influential businessmen, it added an extra reason to be cautious. After all, he could make or break you, and if he didn’t like you? Say goodbye to all future job potential. His influence spread across the country, connections with almost every important figure of power.

The position offered a higher-than-average salary, and benefits of high worth. It was a gamble, but if fate smiled down on you, it may as well be one of the best opportunities of your life. Well, it was, but not in the way you expected.

Adjusting your tie slightly, you entered the doors of the building, a pleasant demeanor sweeping over your features. You had to be poised and professional, after all, this was a multi-billion company, if you weren’t your best, failure was guaranteed.

You had worn a simple outfit, contrasting to the corporation’s high-class, expensive atmosphere. But you were just applying to be an personal assistant after all, behind the scenes; so you wore a professional outfit, that wouldn’t stand out.

Arriving just on time for your interview, you took the elevator to the 27th floor, as the receptionist had instructed. With smooth, light jazz playing in the small space, your mind wandered to the possibility of what would happen if the job was granted to you.

Would Lucifer be a haughty, conceited, arrogant boss to work for?

Snorting, you thought, “Of course he is, he’s Lucifer Morningstar, CEO of one of the most prestigious companies in the country, why wouldn’t he be?”

Ping!

Interrupted by the signal of arrival from the elevator, you took in a deep breath, and stepped out of the elevator, hope in your heart.

The interview had gone fairly smoothly, as you answered the questions in a concise, polite manner. It was surprisingly less nerve wracking, besides the fact that your interviewer looked like he wanted to bite you-

At least, he had seemed like it. With mesmerizing, and hungry forest green eyes, you felt yourself gravitating towards him. Although, you quickly reminded yourself that this was a professional setting, and you were applying for an interview.

Seemingly pleased with your responses, the interviewer bade you goodbye as you left the office, a mysterious smirk gracing his features. Leaving the room, the image of him stayed in your mind for days, the intensity and calculation in his gaze haunting you, luring you in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a few days, you had idly scrolled through other job listings, as you didn’t want to rely on the Morningstar Corp. application. After all, you were just one of many applicants, it’d be foolish to place all your hope into that one position.

After another day or two, you got a callback. They had accepted your application, and Mr. Satan, your interviewer, had wanted you to come back and sign the official papers, along with a tour of the building.

With hope in your heart, and a lightness in your step, you entered the skyscraper of a building once again, an air of confidence about you. Well, a sense of security and assurance would be a more accurate description.

Walking down the clean, polished hallway of the 34th floor, your thoughts wandered. However, they were abruptly stopped when you heard a stern voice ring out, prideful and condescending.

“Yes, and? It’s almost pitiful, how lousy you are with your job. I hired you as an interviewer, yet all of your choices have been fired or left on their own accord.

Honestly, since you are one of the most educated and competent halfbloods, I thought you would at least have some potential. If you can’t even find a decent personal assistant for me, I see no potential for you here at Morningstar Corp.”

In an open conference room, you saw a young man, with blond hair, and seemed to be his mid twenties. With a scowl on his face, narrowed eyes were directed towards the man in front of you.

Ah, it was your interviewer, you had realized. Who else had such enchanting, deep green eyes? Focus, you chastised yourself.

“Oh please, you drive off even the most patient of assistants! Speaking of personal assistants, you can’t just call them ‘degenerate, insolent worms not worth the dirt on your shoes, much less your investment,’ because they brewed your coffee a little too long, sir.

If you weren’t such an entitled, demanding pureblood, I’d-”

Wait- pureblood?

As he was about to fire off an insult, his gaze darted towards you, eyes seemingly gazing into your soul. Your breath hitched, words barely being able to force themselves out of your throat.

“Ah, my apologies, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll be back later-”

Hastily turning on your heel, you attempted to leave, but were stopped by a commanding voice behind you. Immediately, you had recognized him. The same voice you had heard over and over, in press conferences, and various ceremonies.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

You turned around, suddenly anxious and on edge. Something about that voice made you shiver in fear, and...delight?

Lucifer was dressed in a dark navy blue suit, with corresponding dress pants, along with a crisp, white dress shirt, hidden under a dark blue not unlike that of the suit. To add on, a black tie was adorned around his neck, with black dress shoes.

Wow Y/n, the first thing you think about when confronted by one of the most powerful businessmen in the country, is about how hot you think his voice is, and that collar- Get yourself together!

Blinking once, your gaze meets that of a blood-red one, almost hypnotic. A deep, bloody red that was similar to that of roses, or perhaps rivulets of blood. Almost like the blood red eyes of a vampire, found in fantasy novels and mythological stories.

Although, maybe he was one, since Satan had mentioned him being a ‘pureblood,’ if I recall correctly. That could mean anything, though.

Nonetheless, you quickly snapped your focus back to the present, as you had realized you had been staring into his eyes for maybe a bit too long. With burning red staining the tips of your ears, you replied with a slight waver in your voice,

“I was just about to leave and reschedule my appointment with Mr. Satan, as it seemed the two of you were busy, Mr. Morningstar.”

Staring at each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever, Lucifer smirked, breaking the hold on your gaze to glance back at Satan. With a dignified air around him, his moniker of “The Peacock” seemed quite fitting.

“Is this the new assistant you were speaking of, Satan?”

Scowling, he nodded curtly.

“Yes, this is Y/n L/n, your newest personal assistant. Out of all of your previous assistants, they’re the most qualified, and seem to align with your standards the most. I have faith in them.”

Taken aback by the blatant praise, you dipped your head in a gesture of thanks and gratitude.

Lucifer observed with a slightly curious gaze, masked behind a cover of apathetic, uninterested layers of emotions. It was rare for Satan to praise anyone, much less a new assistant.

He couldn’t deny that his curiosity was piqued; after all, he held Satan’s opinion in high regard, arguments aside. If he believed in your capabilities, you had to have at least some merit.

As much as Lucifer would like to deny it, he was a demanding boss, especially since his levels of stress were through the roof. Hell, if he was human, he’d be dead from overworking and lack of rest. Fortunately for the undead immortal, he wasn’t.

“I see, well Y/n, why don’t you finish up the required paperwork with Satan, and he’ll give you a tour afterwards. Your first day of work starts this coming Monday, be here at 7AM, sharp.”

Turning away, you stole a glimpse his face once more before Lucifer left, leaving you and Satan.

Letting out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in, you turned to Satan, mind clouded with thoughts flurried, flying through your head.

With  charming smile and a certain glint in his eye, Satan gestured to the conference room, with papers and files ready on the table.

“Shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday, 6:50 AM

Arriving at the building, you were huffing, as you had rushed over. Your morning had been fairly quiet, but the real issue was with traffic.

There was a car crash on your route to work, and it nearly made you late, added with the fact that parking spots were far and few to find, it was a miracle you had made it on time.

However, the sight that greeted you when you stepped into the polished office was...something, to say the least.

The first thing you noticed was a wave of iron and rust permeating your senses, filling your nostrils and causing light-headedness.

On Lucifer’s desk, sat vials of blood, and the man in question, had his fangs inserted through a vial. seeming to drink the blood through his fangs.

With closed eyes and a contented look on his face, Lucifer seemed to drink the blood like a mere cup of tea, nonchalant.

Letting out a noise of surprise, you clapped a hand over your mouth in shock; your boss was a vampire, just like from the manga you had read....

Lashes fluttering open, Lucifer looks at you with . Removing his fangs from the vial,  he swiped his tongue along his fangs, not letting a drop of blood go to waste.

Setting it down, he placed his head on his propped hand in a bored manner, a contempt expression worn smugly across his face.

“Right on time, L/n. Since today’s your first day on the job, I’ll give you a simple task. Prepare a coffee with 18 shots of espresso, a dash of milk, and a caffeine booster.

Afterwards, you will stop by the clinic on the 13th floor, and collect a vial of Aspherion from the medicinal vault. The identification program should have your information set, and should be able to identify you by the card Satan gave you previously.”

Standing in shock, your eyes were wide with surprise, firstly, because your new boss was a vampire; also, that is an inhuman amount of caffeine, how the fuck has he not died yet- plus, having a vampiric boss wasn’t included in the contract.

No wonder the benefits were so great, he was gonna drink your blood like a fucking juice box.

“What in the world? First of all, my name’s Y/n, and I would appreciate if you would call me as such. Secondly, a vampire? Do you really think I’m just going to accept that, no question?”

Incredulous, you had gestured your hands in a dramatic fashion, genuinely offended that your new boss had thought you were going to take in this new information within seconds, and be completely fine with it.

Sighing with a look of irritation flashing across his features, he gestured for you to sit in an empty seat, proceeding to prop his chin on his hands. In his eyes, shone curiosity, and a challenge.

“Fine. What would you like to know?”

#my writing #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x reader #obey me fic #obey me x lucifer oneshot #obey me lucifer fic #obey me fic series

[senadimell]

Boromir for the character ask?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: Honestly? His focus. He's a problem-solver. He focuses on whatever task is in front of him, and while he's the golden child, I honestly don't know if he'd be the best fit for Steward because he seems to be at his best when he's thinking about concrete solutions to discrete problems.

Oh! The other thing is that he evaluates the advice given to him for what it is, not based on the authority of the advisor. He’s not going to accept bad advice just because it comes from a trustworthy source, and he’s going to be honest about his thoughts. So he’ll trust and respect the advice of the council of Elrond, but not to the point where he doesn’t ask questions or question things that don’t make sense (I’m thinking about Caradhras here) It’s a good skill to have as the de-facto heir to Gondor, and it makes sense that he’s not in awe of elves or Gandalf and acts among them as a guest but also as an equal at least in political status, though his experience is vastly more limited.

At the same time, he’s not arrogant or haughty. He's a team player. He’s supportive of decisions for the most part, though where the ring is concerned, things get skewy. He’s not the kind of person to rub mistakes back in your face. He’s compassionate and understanding (which we see even in the way he treats Frodo as he strives for the Ring).

least favorite thing about them: Honestly Boromir doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I suppose his positive traits are also double-edged swords. Focusing more on the advice than the giver sort of has Feanor vibes? And you can see where his focus leads him when he talks to Frodo about why he wants the ring and how he would use it. He can see his corner of the world (Gondor) and his place in saving it (political, but primarily military leadership), and it’s his practicality, drive, and focus that the Ring exploits. He’s too busy thinking about what he must do to save the day that he misses the grander scheme (yet he’s doing it because he cares! he cares!).

brOTP: Um, Faramir, I guess. Though I guess it’d be kinda sweet if he’s got a brotherly relationship with Bergil. I can easily imagine Bergil hero-worshipping Boromir, and so I think it’d be sweet if Boromir did acknowledge him and know him by name.

OTP: none? look, I rarely ship and even more rarely out of canon.

nOTP: also none? Shelob? The Ring?

random headcanon: I dunno...

unpopular opinion: boromir has dark hair Sean Bean is an actor he’s not the only face

So I feel like there’s a bit of a structural problem with the LotR fandom. Characters are often written in pairs or as foils, and inevitably the comparison starts to turn towards “who’s better?” Then, if you don’t ship them, there’s a tendency to aggrandize one character’s virtues and minimize their flaws (which tends to happen everywhere), but then the comparison game starts. Because they have a paired character, the natural next step is to lionize your favorite by de-emphasizing the other character’s strengths and virtues (and sometimes also highlighting their flaws). (I’m not immune to this by far, btw, and am possibly about to engage in it.)

This happen the most with Frodo and Sam, but I think you also see it in Boromir and Faramir. Because obviously, in the books, Faramir is the golden child. Not in his father’s eyes, of course, but narratively speaking. And I have mad respect for him.

Most people don’t try and diss Faramir (because frankly. it’s hard. like, what are you going to say?), but there’s a tendency to downplay the fact that Boromir is his culture’s golden child, and Faramir...isn’t. Which isn’t to say Faramir isn’t beloved by those who know him, but his strengths are not valued in the same way that Boromir’s are. Faramir knows this. And given Boromir’s attitudes discussed above (how confidently he assumes his position in the world), I can’t believe he’s the 100% supportive, loving, sensitive, protective brother that fanon depicts him as. I don’t see how he can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe the brothers love each other deeply. But growing up with siblings has taught me that it’s possible to love someone and yet be deeply wounded by them due to the casual and inescapable intimacy of your relationship? You can share more inside jokes and weird stories than anyone, yet you can never get away from how deeply they know you--not your thoughts, but who you are at home and who you were when you were seven and how you acted when someone broke up with you or what you did when your parents were furious.

You also know exactly how you match up against them, because you will always exist as a unit. And because your relationship is as natural as the lens  in your eye (you can’t imagine viewing the world without it), you forget about the other as a person and just say something and don’t think about how it hurts them. You can joke about this one thing and your sibling can carry around the hurt for years and you didn’t even know. And maybe the hurt isn’t even your fault--maybe they were just sensitive and you had no way of knowing, but the hurt doesn’t go away for the lack of malice. And even best-friend siblings are capable of malice towards each other at times.

So Boromir is good at things that Faramir isn’t, and Boromir knows it. He’s probably ribbed his brother in what he thinks is a playful way about when you’re going to shape up, or do X, or do Y, or why do you do that, anyways, or do you realize that’s a little unbecoming? maybe you should stop that. You know Father’s going to think that you’re... And he doesn’t realize how those slights can add up over the years. I do think he’s said things to his peers about his brother that have ended up hurting him. No matter how pure and nice he is, that sort of thing is unavoidable, and due to his cultural upbringing I don’t actually think he’d question the appropriateness of his attitude/acceptance and glorification of martial prowess at the expense of those who don’t have it in the same degree.

I think this passage is really telling:

For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. 'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:          Seek for the Sword that was broken:          In Imladris it dwells;          There shall be counsels taken          Stronger than Morgul-spells.          There shall be shown a token          That Doom is near at hand,          For Isildur's Bane shall waken,          And the Halfling forth shall stand. Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Denethor, Lord of Minas Tirith, wise in the lore of Gondor. This only would he say, that Imladris was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Elrond the Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters. Therefore my brother, seeing how desperate was our need, was eager to heed  the  dream and seek for  Imladris; but since the way was full of doubt and danger, I took the journey upon myself. Loth was my father to  give  me leave, and long have I wandered by roads forgotten, seeking the house of Elrond, of which many had heard, but few knew where it lay.' 

There’s so much you can read into this. Faramir has this dream, and he has it many times. We know he’s a lover of lore and no less devoted to his kingdom than Boromir, though his love is expressed differently. He is “eager” to heed the dream. So would I if I was having prophecy dreams all the time.

But is Faramir a member of the fellowship? No. Why? Because Boromir “took it upon himself.” He wanted to do it, he thought himself the better candidate (and Faramir the worse), and he argued his way into doing it against his father’s wishes. Coupled with Denethor’s later attitude towards Boromir, I’m inclined to believe Boromir was uniquely able to obtain this quest for himself because Denethor has a soft spot for him.

I find myself inclined to disregard Boromir’s account of Faramir’s motive (”how desparate was our need”), because it sounds like he’s justifying the appropriateness of his actions.  If it’s just about the great need of the kingdom, it’s nothing personal that one brother goes and the other stays. That view implies  that Faramir’s interest in this mission is primarily utilitarian in purpose, with a little academic curiosity--that is, it’s nothing personal. Doesn’t matter who goes! Not as long as we protect the kingdom! Which...just doesn’t square with his description of Faramir having repeatedly cryptic dreams that he wants to understand. I can almost guarantee that Faramir wants to know what those dreams meant more than Boromir.

It’s a bit tragic, because ultimately Faramir was more suited for the quest than Boromir (tramping about in the wilderness doesn’t seem to be a problem, he’s also a team player, and he’s much more willing to accept the power of the Ring/not downplay its personal danger, and would be able to see it in a bigger picture beyond just Gondor). Ultimately, though, if Boromir was the one to catch Frodo in Ithillien, the story would have a veeeeeeery different ending. (Gollum would likely be dead, and I can’t imagine he’d be inclined to just. let Frodo and Sam go free.)

I kind of view their relationship as a much less antagonistic version of Agravain and Gwalchmai from Gillian Bradshaw. (Agravain is more of a jerk than I can ever imagine Boromir being, and has a wicked temper). 

Also none of this is to say that I don’t think he’s not protective of his brother.

So a lot of words to say: I don’t think the Boromir and Faramir relationship is as uwu cinnamon roll as it seems in fandom. I think they loved each other, but I think Boromir did have a tendency to take what he wanted when he thought he deserved it and not give it a second thought, even when it was at the expense of his brother. Sure, he’d defend his brother night and day, but I expect him to be a bit of a jerk, be unaware of the extent of his behavior, and also see little wrong with it (the ring quest seems to have crossed a line, by the way he justifies it).

Still, they do love each other deeply and genuinely. It’s just a little more conflicted.

song i associate with them: Requiem, from Dear Evan Hanson. Not a particularly creative association (and I don’t associate him with Connor at all), but his death comes as such a shock at the beginning of TTT and brings with it so many mixed feelings due to both their relationship and the circumstances of his death. Nobody’s mourning is straightforward: not Frodo, or Denethor, or Faramir, or Aragorn, or Merry, or Pippin. His absense is woven throughout TTT and even RotK, in plot and in emotion and in theme.

favorite picture of them:

Don’t really have a favorite, but this one is nice.

The Sean Bean runners-up: one, two

#asks #answers #boromir #did not think i had this many thoughts about boromir! #thank you so much for the ask!

[lostbbygorl]

AN UNLIKELY VILLAIN (LEVI X F!READER):

AU: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE BY JANE AUSTEN

~~~~~~

Lady Katrina was careful not to make a sound as she stalked her niece and nephew to the piano room. Isabel had dragged

Mr. Ackerman by the hand to the piano room, and the duo had shared countless looks and whispers throughout the ball which took place on that very night at the De Lancey mansion. As nosy as ever, Lady Katrina intended to discover the subject of her niece and nephew’s hushed yet frantic discussions.

“ A union between you and Amanda will be disastrous, brother! You cannot lie to our aunt, Amanda, and yourself forever! You’re a grown man, have a spine! It’s Y/N who gives you a purpose to live in this world, and it is Y/N you must chase and marry”, Isabel scolded Levi.

“ You are a child, Isabel, don’t tell me what to do. Besides, you know of our aunt’s stubbornness. Do you really think she’d happily accept a marriage between me and someone of Y/N’s standing after I’ve been engaged to Amanda my whole life?”, Levi reasoned.

“ I wouldn’t be meddling with your life if you acted like the grown up you are and defied our aunt! If Y/N can do it, so can you! I will not sit around and watch my older brother spend the rest of his days in acute misery”, Isabel said, decidedly.

“ I know of the letters you and Ms. Y/N exchange frequently, and I know for sure, as a young woman, that she loves you back now. It’s what you’ve been waiting for her to do all this time, Levi, why are you suddenly so obedient? Where’s the headstrong, independent Levi I know? Things must change around here, and you’ll be starting it”, Isabel finished definitely. The fire in her eyes made Levi know that Isabel wouldn’t back down till he was united with the woman he loved, and moreover, her words had motivated Levi to live by his own rules, which he had always done until Lady Katrina started discussing his engagement with Amanda more seriously. After learning of Levi’s feelings for Y/N and confronting him about them, she decided to have them married in 2 months instead of next summer, thinking that this change of plans would squash all hope in Levi. Lady Katrina angrily stomped back to the ballroom. To her displeasure, Amanda was deep in conversation with a blonde boy with blue eyes who she vaguely remembered as Armin Arlert- and she was smiling! An extremely rare occurrence indeed. This was an absolute nightmare for Lady Katrina! The world was turning upside down! Lady Katrina was determined to put a damper on this! So, the very next morning, she boarded her carriage for a journey to Trost.

Y/N’s household was much quieter than usual, now that Sasha was gone. Papa and Mama were bickering as old married couples usually do, and Mikasa was helping Ella with a sewing project. The eldest sisters were in the chicken house discussing Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman whilst petting baby chicks.

“ Mr. Ackerman’s been writing to me more regularly nowadays. It’s so refreshing to see him come out of his shell and open up”, Y/N said.

“ Mr. Smith says he’ll come visit Trost as soon as he has some urgent business seen too”, Christa squealed enthusiastically to a wide eyed, gasping Y/N.

“ And you tell me this only now? Christa, I can guarantee he’s coming to see you”, Y/N promised. Suddenly, the entrance to the chicken house burst open, and a heavily breathing Ella stood in front of them. Ella looked like she had some important news.

“ Ella, are you alright?”, Christa asked to which Ella nodded.

“ Christa, come to the living room immediately! You have a special visitor”, Ella said, catching her breath. The three sisters ran back to the house. When Christa entered the living room, she was shocked to see a beaming Mr. Smith sitting on the sofa talking to Mrs. L/N. Mr. L/N came back from the kitchen with a pot of tea and some muffins. Mr. Smith’s attention shifted to Christa as soon as she entered the room, and everyone intensely stared at the pair, who had hearts in their eyes when they made eye contact.

“ Ms. Christa, it has been too long”, Mr. Smith bowed.

“ Mr. Erwin, it truly is lovely to see you in flesh again. It’s been ages since we last met at Stohess”, Christa replied.

“ I agree. I notified you in my letters that I’d be visiting Trost after some urgent business was seen to. Well, all matters have been fixed much earlier than I predicted, so I thought I might surprise you”, he explained. His tone and his posture were confident, but if you noticed the way his hands clenched and unclenched on repeat, you’d notice he was nervous and obviously had something important to spill.

“ And I am surprised!”Christa laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“ Then I am successful. Ms. Christa, I have come here to speak with you about a matter most serious. Everybody, may we have some privacy for a short while”, Mr. Smith politely requested as he looked around at all the faces staring at him. At once, everybody scurried out of the living room. But they didn’t leave Christa and Mr. Smith alone, oh no! Mrs. L/N and Ella pressed their ears to the door as soon as they closed it. Mr. L/N and Y/N whispered amongst themselves about what the motive behind Mr. Smith’s sudden visit could be.

“ Do you think he’ll propose to Christa?”, Mr. L/N asked Y/N.

“ I’m not entirely certain, but something tells me that is his motivation”, Y/N said, heart beating in anticipation.

Meanwhile inside the room, Christa was crying tears of pure joy, and Mr. Smith smiled the widest he ever had in his life. Twinkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows of the living room was a gorgeous pear shaped diamond on Christa’s ring finger! Mr. Smith had apologized to Christa for abandoning her so suddenly, and came back to ask for her hand in marriage. With their arms linked, Mr. Smith and Christa exited the room, smiling at the faces of their eavesdroppers.

“ Everyone, me and Mr. Smith are hereby engaged to each other”, Christa squealed, and all at once, chaos commenced inside the house! Mr. L/N wrapped his arms around Mr. Smith and congratulated him before making him swear he’ll keep his beloved daughter happy. Mrs. L/N was glad that she’d have yet another one of her children married off, and this time to a filthy rich gentleman! Ella, Mikasa, and Y/N tackled Christa with a bear hug and Y/N loudly exclaimed praises and jokes at Christa. Mr. Smith stayed over for lunch, and he took Christa on a ride with him to Dauper village afterwards for some bonding time as an officially affianced couple.

The rest of the day went rather peacefully. Mr. L/N and Y/N relaxed in the library. Mr. L/N was reading a novel, while Y/N wrote to Sasha and Nifa about the engagement. Christa returned to the house just in time for dinner, just as Lady Katrina had reached Trost!

Y/N lay in bed, not even a tiny fraction of sleepiness in her. Her head still buzzed with joy and excitement after Christa’s engagement. Could Mr. Ackerman really be behind all this? Was he really mending his ways after Y/N had criticised him, and solving everybody’s problems? For the umpteenth time, Y/N lay awake at an ungodly hour thinking of Mr. Ackerman, and letting her insecurities eat away at her. Mr. Ackerman loved her, no doubt about it, but it was Amanda who was getting in her way! Now, a good natured person like Y/N could never hate an innocent young lady who had no intention of hurting her, but god, it really would be blissful if Amanda didn’t exist! She was plain and dull, but she had all the wealth and connections. Y/N was losing all hope of ever reuniting with Mr. Ackerman, or of giving her hand to him. But she was rudely jerked out of her thoughts when it began raining unexpectedly, and heavily too accompanied by a boisterous thunderstorm! But it wasn’t only the loud rain that bothered her, it was the sound of wood being knocked on. It took Y/N a few seconds to realize that somebody was knocking on her door- and very roughly too!

Y/N flocked downstairs to see her family surrounding a short, plump woman in expensive, elegant clothes with her gray hair tied in a tight bun. It was Lady Katrina! But what was she doing here at Trost, in her home, at 3.00 in the morning?

“ Where is Ms. Y/N L/N?”, Lady Katrina demanded, her striking grey eyes shining angrily by the flames of the fireplace as she searched for Y/N. Y/N was taken aback! For a brief moment she locked eyes with Christa, who pointed her chin at Lady Katrina’s direction with a confused expression, silently asking Y/N who this lady was and why she barged into their home at such a late hour.

“ I am here, your ladyship”, Y/N answered.

“ May I ask why you’ve woken me and my family at 3.00 AM in the middle of severe rain to seek me out?”, she asked.

“ Now, Y/N, that’s no way to treat a guest. Would your ladyship like a cup of tea?”, Mr. L/N butted in.

“ Not at all. All I would like here is to talk privately with Y/N. Where might I sit and talk with her alone?”, she asked with a serious tone.

“ Let me lead you to the library, my lady”, Y/N answered, guiding Lady Katrina there. Once inside, Lady Katrina circled Y/N, giving her no scope to seat herself.

“ Ms. Y/N, I am here because a most alarming report has been made to me two days ago, and you are to debunk it”, Lady Katrina said in a matter of fact voice. Y/N was curious.

“ I have no idea as to how I could ever be in the middle of your problems, madam, so please provide me with a backstory so I may understand”, Y/N requested.

“ Ms. Y/N, I must warn you that I am not to be trifled with. The report made to me states that you intend to marry my nephew, Levi”, Lady Katrina clarified.

“ I know this to be a scandalous falsehood, and I came here as soon as possible to confirm my sentiments on the matter to you”.

“ If you believed a marriage between me and him to be impossible, why did you take the trouble of coming so far to confront me about it?”, Y/N queried.

“ To hear it from your own mouth. Why do you pretend to be ignorant of it? Have these statements not been industriously circulated by yourself?”, Lady Katrina challenged.

“ They haven’t, and I deny all accusations of them having been spread by me”, Y/N replied confidently, though her heart was cracking the more Lady Katrina spoke. All her insecurities about her relationship with Levi were seeping out.

“ So you declare that there isn’t any foundation for it?”, Lady Katrina asked.

“ I declare nothing, as I’ve just been informed of these rumors now”, Y/N said.

“ Then let me ask a clearer question which to my knowledge has no answer excluding yes or no. Has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?”, Lady Katrina interrogated.

“ Your ladyship has declared it impossible”

“ Let me be understood! Mr. Ackerman is affianced to my daughter. What do you have to say now?”

“ Only this: that if your words are kosher, he wouldn’t have a reason to ask for my hand”, Y/N said, riling the woman up! Why wouldn’t Y/N just give her straight answers?

“ Ms. Y/N, do you know who I am?”Lady Katrina loudly quizzed her.

“ I am his closest relative, so therefore I am entitled to know all of Levi’s most important concerns”, Lady Katrina stated.

“ But you aren’t entitled to know mine”, Y/N countered her, making Lady Katrina put a hand on her chest in offence. She took ragged breaths in an attempt to calm herself. She closed her eyes, and once she was more clear headed, she opened them again.

“ The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind”, Lady Katrina started again, her tone softer.

“ Their marriage was decided during their infancy, and it is the favorite wish of my Amanda’s late father and Levi’s”, she explained.

“ A matter as delicate and final as this shall not be hindered by the hands of a woman of inferior birth who possesses no fortune or connections, and worse: no sense of propriety! You have influenced my nephew and lured him in, and I will not stand it!”, her ladyship cried.

Y/N was offended and hurt beyond comprehension! How dare this busybody barge into her house at midnight, and insult her very being? Though tears welled in her eyes, she stood her ground, and unflinching, she faced Lady Katrina.

“ I’ve come this far, and my journey was tiresome. I won’t leave until I am satisfied. Now, Ms. Y/N, tell me that you promise to refuse Levi your hand should he ask for it”, Lady Katrina ordered.

“ I empathize with the exhaustion you face due to your long journey, and I’ve been compelled to admit clearly that I am not engaged to Levi Ackerman. But I will not make any promise to you, madam, and especially not a promise of the respective nature”, Y/N deadpanned to the thunderstruck Lady Katrina!

“ Insufferable, headstrong, selfish girl!”, Lady Katrina furiously hissed.

“ You have insulted not me, but my beloved kin as well, and that is an offence I can never forgive you for. It was wrong of you to force yourself inside my abode, uninvited and unannounced, to confront me about baseless rumors and personal matters. It is now 4.00 in the morning, and the rain has stopped. Your escort must be waiting, your ladyship. I will not be disturbed any further! Goodnight and goodbye”, Y/N said the final words.

Lady Katrina exited the house angry and displeased, cursing the situation and Y/N’s character as she stormed out. Finally, Y/N began crying. She ran out of the library to make her way upstairs.

“ Darling, what happened? Is everything okay?”, Mrs. L/N asked, concerned.

“ It was a simple misunderstanding. I’m off to bed, and you all should be too”, Y/N sniffled, trying to escape them.

“ Darling, talk to us-", Mr. L/N started only to get interrupted.

“ I have no desire to. For once in your life just leave me be!”she shouted before locking herself in her room to cry.

Lady Katrina had reached Shiganshina after hours of travel, and she seeked her nephew out immediately.

“ Levi, come here at once!”, she called. Levi curiously walked downstairs, Isabel following him suit.

Lady Katrina explained everything that had happened between herself and Y/N to Levi, thinking he’d be appalled by her behaviour. What the poor lady didn’t realize was that her recount had only made Levi exceedingly proud of Y/N, and deepened his feelings towards her. Isabel gaped at Levi the entirety of her aunt’s heated speech, knowing what her brother would do next. She smirked, an action which went unnoticed by Lady Katrina.

“ Oh my, auntie, what horrible offences you’ve had laid against you”, she said, feigning astonishment. Isabel entertained Lady Katrina and pretended to sympathize with her while Levi sat on his horse for a long ride to Trost- all in his nightwear! Levi silently thanks the lord for the fact that he had another chance with Y/N, and the closer he got to Trost, the gladder his heart became.

Lady Katrina on the other hand was much dismayed! Amanda had broken off the engagement from her part, and revealed that she was now affianced to Armin Arlert, a friend she fell for after meeting at the never ending balls.

“ I’m sorry to have disappointed you, mother, but I can’t allow myself to be under your control any longer. I’ve done everything you instructed me to these past 23 years, but all that ends now, for I do not love Levi Ackerman, I love Armin Arlert”, she sternly broke the news to Lady Katrina.

And before walking out the door one last time, she turned around and said:

“ Before I go, I will instill upon you some heartfelt, priceless advice that I believe will be most helpful in the future: don’t arrange marriages between two individuals while they’re still in their cradles. It encourages zero admiration or affection, and plans of this kind always find a way of souring”.

#captain levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader

[eldritchteaparty]

Chapters: 16/22 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King, Georgie Barker, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Basira Hussain Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary:  Everyone heads to Elias’s house to continue discussing their situation. Jon and Martin talk with Elias.

Chapter 16 of my post-canon fix-it is out! Read at AO3 above or here below the cut.

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters is here.

***

Martin took the front seat for the ride out to Elias’s house. He wasn’t sure if that was what Jon preferred, but it felt like it put less pressure on him to engage with Elias. He supposed he could have made some excuse to sit in the back seat with Jon, which is what he’d really wanted to do, but that would have made what was already a very awkward occasion even more awkward; after all, Elias was doing them a favor.

He wished he’d thought before to ask Jon how he actually felt about Elias. There was no guarantee Jon would have wanted to talk about it, but he should have offered him the chance. Martin could tell Jon wasn’t comfortable around Elias, but then again, neither was he. It wasn’t Elias, necessarily—it was more about the fact that when he looked at him, he couldn’t help but see Jonah Magnus, at least for a moment.

This brought up a bigger question that Martin had thought about but had no way to really ask Jon, and that was how much he operated on what Martin imagined most people did—memories, experience, reasoning things out—and how much he operated on knowing and feeling things most people couldn’t feel. During the apocalypse it had been almost exclusively the latter, based on how incapacitated Jon had been when separated from the Eye, but he knew Jon didn’t have nearly the abilities he’d had then.

On the other hand, there had been times recently when Jon had acted on Martin’s feelings without even realizing he’d been doing it; Martin suspected it had happened more times than he knew. Was it just with him that happened?

Only half conscious of it, he turned to check on Jon in the back seat.

He’d basically succeeded in putting the thought of their bond from the Lonely out of his mind since their first big argument here. Jon had just gotten so sick, and then—well, everything else, and he’d basically filed it away, undigested, a concept he didn’t quite know what to do with. Now, as Martin watched Jon stare distractedly out of the car window and into the night outside, the thought reinstated itself.

What did it mean, now that they appeared to be heading down the same path as before? Although he detested the whole idea, maybe he was somehow essential to Jon being able to start another apocalypse—or maybe, if Jon did end up starting one, Martin was essential to whatever his plans might be afterward. Could he use that somehow to—to help keep Jon safe?

As soon as the thought occurred to him, the guilt poured in from wherever it tucked itself away. Trying to protect Jon always felt so much like working against him, and he hated it, but he still hadn’t found another way. The guilt compounded with a familiar frustration bordering on anger—no, it was anger—as he reminded himself that even if he came up with something, even if he did manage to find some small foothold of power in this situation, it would almost certainly backfire. Everything—every plan, every measure of protection he or Jon had tried to take—always had.

He realized Jon had stopped staring into the darkness outside of the car and was now looking at him.

Martin took a breath to say something—he wasn’t sure what—when Elias spoke for the first time since they’d gotten in the car.

“Everything all right?”

“Um—yeah,” Martin said, turning back around in his seat. “Yeah, it’s just late, and I—I guess I’m tired. Sorry for not being more helpful.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I do this drive a lot.”

“Yeah, I—I guess you do.” Martin glanced back to see Jon had returned to looking in the direction of the window. “I mean, every day, right?” It was an incredibly stupid question, but Martin felt obligated to make some effort to keep the conversation going.

“Well—mostly. Every now and then I stay in the office overnight.” Elias turned and caught Martin’s eye, but the resulting discomfort seemed to be mutual, and he quickly returned his eyes to the road. “Or, I suppose, more often I just don’t come in in the first place. Sasha pretends to hate it, but I think we all know she’s happier when I just stay out of the way.”

Elias laughed at his own self-derogatory remark, and Martin tried to be polite with a quick hm. He hadn’t spent a lot of time around Elias here; he’d actually done his best to avoid him, simply because he was his boss, and Elias had seemed fine with that. It was the same way he’d tried to avoid Jon before—before he’d turned out to be Jon. Sasha had always been Sasha, she’d gone out of her way to make him comfortable, but—well, in any case, he didn’t think that laughing about Elias being a shit boss was the best way to forge a relationship. He had no idea how to interact with him under the best of circumstances, and therefore tonight was a lost cause. Thankfully, Elias seemed to arrive at the same conclusion, and let the conversation drop.

Martin turned to imagining the scenery that might be outside the car for the remainder of the ride.

He assumed they had arrived when Elias turned the car off the main road, and the surface beneath the car began to crunch. They drove a short way down this gravel lane before Elias stopped the car and pulled out his phone and opened an app.

“Looks like Allan gave up on me tonight,” he said. “Give it a minute… and… there.”

Several flood lights lit up the drive that curved around in front of an impressive country house; it was an impressive house to Martin, anyway. Elias hadn’t been joking when he’d said he had enough bedrooms to go around. His surprise must have shown on his face.

“The outside’s the best part,” Elias said, as he pulled the car around near the front door. “I really don’t even use most of it. It was a family place. No idea why I hang on to it, other than—well, it works.”

“Did you grow up out here?”

“Here?” Elias asked. “No—not really. We lived in town. We came here sometimes, I guess. Mostly my father rented this one out. I sold the London place as soon as he died, and meant to do the same with this one, but—well, it’s been twenty years—twenty-five, almost? Christ—and here we are.”

“Right,” Martin said, even though he had no frame of reference at all. His mother had died with nothing but what she’d kept with her in the care home. He supposed he was grateful for that; he’d barely found the fortitude to go through the couple of boxes they had returned to him. “Well—thanks again for having us all out here.”

“Oh—it’s, um—” Elias paused. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not.” They turned to look at Jon.

“Sorry?”

“I’m just saying it’s—it’s not the least you can do. It’s rather far from it, actually.”

“Well—” Elias paused again. “Look, I’m feeling sort of—”

“They’re here.”

“What?”

Headlights flashed down the drive.

“Oh, the girls,” Martin said. “Guess they left around the same time we did.” Elias and Jon were already getting out of the car by the time he finished his sentence, clearly also not eager to have a real conversation for the moment.

“Park anywhere,” Elias told them as they pulled up. “You see where Allan’s parked, and we’re not expecting anyone else.”

“Tim,” Sasha said from the back seat. “He’ll be here. Well—in a day or two.”

“He’s been here before. He’ll figure it out.”

They managed to get everything out of the cars in one go, with Elias bringing Georgie’s bags, and Georgie carrying a padded crate that emitted an occasional small sound of distress. Georgie caught Martin looking toward the crate as they walked toward the house.

“He’s not fond of car rides, I’m afraid. Do you—like cats?”

“Oh, I just like animals,” Martin said, wondering why he was suddenly feeling shy. It was interesting, feeling something like a normal emotion in the middle of all this. He couldn’t decide if it was a waste of energy or a relief. “Never really had a pet, though.”

“Well, this is the Admiral. He’s pretty friendly, at least when he’s not in the car, so—”

“Oh yeah, Jon’s told me all about him.”

“Is that so?” Georgie asked, turning to look at Jon.

“I, uh—did get to know him a bit. Before. There, I mean.”

“Right,” Georgie said, shaking her head. “It’s going to take me a while longer to get used to this.”

“All right,” said Elias, as they walked through the front door. “I know it’s late, so if you all don’t mind I’ll save the tour for tomorrow. I was thinking it might be best if you all stayed on the first floor, but there are other rooms on the second floor. That’s where Allan’s room is. My bedroom’s down there”—he pointed to hallway on the right— “and I was thinking you all could stay here.” He led them down a hallway in the opposite direction.

“There are three rooms. Sasha, this one’s just got a double. It’s the smallest room, and you’d have to use the bath across the hall here—well, I mean, there are others, but that’s the closest. If it’s ok with you—”

“Oh, yeah,” Sasha looked both tired and appreciative. “Honestly, it’s much bigger than my room at home. It’s—it’s great. If you all don’t mind, I might head off? Try and get some sleep?”

“All yours. Oh—that door at the end of the hall, that’s a linen closet. If any of you need an extra blanket or towel or anything.”

“Thanks,” Sasha said. “For all of this. Goodnight.”

They headed just a little further down the hall as Sasha closed the door behind herself. “As for the other two rooms—Melanie and—Georgia—”

“Georgie.”

“Right, I’m—I’m sorry—Georgie—I was thinking if you didn’t mind sharing the hallway bath with Sasha, this room has a super king. Or the other one’s a king, but it does have an en-suite shower. And again, there are other rooms upstairs if—”

“I’m ok with this one,” Melanie said. “Georgie?”

“Sure. Unless you two—?” She looked toward Martin and Jon.

“Oh, I don’t—I don’t think we care?” He looked at Jon, who by now also seemed quite tired. Jon shook his head. “I mean, we’ve been sharing a double, and I guess before that we just slept on the ground somewhere, you know, when we could sleep, so…”

He trailed off as he realized everyone was looking at him with slightly wide eyes—even Melanie, who had been avoiding eye contact since they had arrived. He hadn’t meant to say quite that much.

“Well,” Georgie said quickly, releasing some of the tension, “if you’re really fine with it, honestly, the Admiral’s a snuggler, so… yeah. We wouldn’t mind the extra space.”

“Here, I’ll—” Elias picked up Georgie’s bags again from where he had temporarily set them on the hallway floor, and glanced at Jon and Martin. “Are you two all right? It’s just the last door down that way.”

“Thank you,” Jon said, surprising Martin.

“You’re welcome,” Elias said, before turning to help Melanie and Georgie get settled.

Like Sasha, their room was also much bigger than the one they shared at home. Not only did the king fit in it—it would not have in Jon’s flat, as the double just about took up all the room left after the dresser and the side tables—there was also an armchair to one side of the bed and a small writing desk in the corner. He remembered Elias commenting that his father used to rent the place out.

“Bit formal,” Martin commented as he set down Jon’s suitcase, which had been the heavier of their two bags. “Big, though.”

Jon nodded and handed Martin’s bag to him before sinking on to the end of the bed. Martin took a moment to sit next to him.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tired? Want to go to bed?”

Jon nodded. They undressed; they knew which sides of the bed belonged to each of them without asking. Just as Martin was about to pull down the sheets, he realized the only switch to turn off the light was near the door. Jon was already in bed, so he got up to turn it off. He looked at Jon as he did; his eyes were already closed.

“Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel safe here?”

“Like I said before—we’re as safe here as anywhere.”

“Do you feel safe here? With Elias?”

“Oh. I—” Jon paused, opening his eyes. “I do.”

“Ok.” Although he felt like maybe there was more to it, one of Jon’s short answers was going to have to be good enough for tonight. Martin turned off the light and felt his way back to the bed. Once under the covers, he reached out to find Jon. He realized he was glad that the king wasn’t that much bigger than their double. He felt Jon turn toward him in the dark.

Outside, through the conduit of the hallway and the walls connecting their rooms, he heard Melanie’s raised voice, too muffled to understand. She continued for a few minutes, her words occasionally peppered by some also-muffled comment from Georgie, and then there was silence again. A small part of him found comfort in it, even if Melanie was agitated. It was familiar; it was something outside of himself and Jon that he knew and still felt he could trust for what it was.

“I wonder what she’s on about?” Martin asked, yawning.

He didn’t expect Jon to answer, so he was a little surprised that he did. “That’s her business. Or—hers and Georgie’s.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t really asking. Just talking.” Jon’s comment had, however, reminded him of what had happened on their ride over in the car.

“Jon, can I ask you about something? I mean—if you need to sleep—”

“I’m fine.”

“In the car tonight—when you—looked at me. Did you know what I was thinking?”

“What you were thinking? No.”

“What I was feeling, then?”

“I’m—” Jon started to move away from him, but Martin reached out to touch his arm and he stopped. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, I—I’m sure you didn’t mean to. Just please, talk to me. You—you can’t help it, can you? Sometimes.”

Jon was quiet; Martin could hear him breathing, feel him struggle with the tension in his body. He gave him a minute. “I don’t like it,” he finally said.

“I know you don’t. Is it—just me? Or are you always feeling everyone’s feelings?”

“It’s just you. Of course, it’s just you. You know why.”

“I see.” He sat with that for a moment, letting it sink in as he alternated the pressure of his fingers against Jon’s arm. He knew he was fidgeting, but Jon didn’t seem to mind it. Maybe it was helping. “What did you feel tonight?”

“You were—you were feeling guilty. You always feel guilty, but this was… sharp. And you were angry. And—” Jon shifted under his hand, but didn’t pull away again. “And it all had something to do with me.”

“I wasn’t angry at you.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“And I’m not going to give you one, other than that. I just—I want you to know that.”

“You know—it’s all right if you are mad at me. I would understand.”

“I know. But I’m not.”

Martin let that settle for a moment before speaking again. “Jon is this—new? I mean, different this time?”

“Sort of,” Jon said. “During the apocalypse, I suppose I—gravitated that way. To your feelings. But everything—everyone—was so loud then. I knew you didn’t like it, and there was always something to drown it out.”

He stopped and cleared his throat. Martin waited.

“Now… Now it’s like when it gets quiet, and all at once you can hear your own heartbeat, feel your pulse radiating through your body. And then you try to stop hearing it, stop feeling it, and—”

“And you can’t,” Martin finished. Jon’s words were becoming painful, although he wasn’t sure for which one of them. “Yeah. All right.”

“I should have told you before.”

“I know why you didn’t. It’s—it’s ok.” Martin said. “I’m sure my feelings are no picnic for you either.”

Jon moved again, but this time it was toward Martin, into his chest. The covers slipped down from his shoulder as he did, and Martin reached for them, pulling them back up. Carefully, so he would not disturb them again, he slid his arm down around Jon’s waist.

They slept.

***

Martin was disoriented when he woke up. It took a moment to remember where he was; the darkness confused him. There were windows on two sides of this room, yet both were covered with heavy curtains instead of blinds, and very little light actually came in. He sensed it was still early, but he wasn’t sure how early until he checked his phone. He hadn’t slept especially late, which wasn’t surprising given how much sleep he’d forced on his body over the last couple of days—but Jon was gone.

Jon’s clothes from the previous day were neatly placed on his side of the bed, so he’d taken the time to get dressed. Martin took that as a sign that he didn’t need to worry. He stood up and stretched, then peeked out of the curtains of the closest window. He couldn’t even see another house from where they were; the lawn extended off into the distance, with the occasional tree adding some variety to the landscape. If they wanted to be away from other people, it looked like they had achieved their goal.

He left one of the curtains open for the little light it provided, and found the small bag with his razor and toothbrush before heading to the bathroom. They had been so tired that they hadn’t even looked at it the night before. It was spacious, with two sinks and a large shower with a hinged glass door. Jon had already been in that morning—either he had been exceptionally quiet or Martin had slept very hard, and he would have believed either. He was slightly amused at his compulsion to use the other sink, the one Jon had not used.

After he had finished up and gotten dressed, he cautiously opened the door and looked down the hallway. No one was there; it was quiet. He closed the door gently behind him and headed back in the direction of the foyer they had walked through when they had come into the house; he imagined he’d find some kind of main room nearby. He passed Georgie and Melanie’s room, and then Sasha’s room; both doors were still closed.

As he drew closer to the foyer, he heard low voices from a room to the other side of the hallway. They sounded conversational, comfortable even. He quickly realized one of them was Jon, and as he continued to walk toward them he recognized the other as Elias. He froze just as he reached the doorway, not sure if he should interrupt; before he could really catch any of the conversation, however, Jon spoke out to him.

“Martin? Is—is that you?”

Is that me, Martin thought, right—but even if they had been alone he wouldn’t have called him on it after their conversation the previous night.

“Um, yeah,” he said, stepping with embarrassment to the edge of the foyer where they could see him. “I wasn’t trying to—I just wasn’t sure if I should interrupt. I can head off, if—”

“Come on in,” Elias said, looking cheerier than Martin could recall seeing him recently. He and Jon were seated in a very proper pair of armchairs, with a small side table situated between them; Elias sipped coffee from a mug as Martin entered. “I was just telling Jon about my father, which is apparently the only thing I know how to talk about when someone is forced to spend more than five minutes with me.”

“Oh,” Martin said, not sure what else to say. The room had a high ceiling and was almost uncomfortably large; there was a fireplace that didn’t appear to get much use, more armchairs, and a sofa with a large rectangular coffee table in front of it. There were windows and a large set of decorative doors in the back of the room—presumably leading to the back lawn—but like the windows in the bedroom, they all let in much less light than Martin felt like they should.

“Coffee? Tea?” Elias asked.

“Um—I’d love some tea. I can get it though, if you tell me where the—kitchen is.”

“Back that way.” Elias pointed behind himself to another doorway Martin had failed to notice. “Through the breakfast room. I’ve got one of those machines that does the whole coffee-espresso-tea-blah blah-whatever thing. Well, really, it’s Allan’s, but he finally broke me down and I started using it. Help yourself.”

Martin looked at Jon, trying to discern whether he was all right. “Go on,” Jon said, gesturing back toward the kitchen with a nod of his head. He did seem ok, Martin thought. He seemed calm, anyway.

Martin headed back to grab some tea. He had trouble thinking of it as making tea—he had a dislike for these machines, they never really boiled the water properly—but it would more than make do this morning. He automatically set out two mugs from the selection on the counter, and only when he was in the middle of adding milk did he realize he hadn’t noticed whether Jon already had one. Fortunately, he did not, and he enthusiastically reached for the cup when Martin set it in front of him.

Martin sat on the sofa, the option closest to the armchairs, but he still felt separated from Jon and Elias. It was like the furniture was spread too far apart to make up for the vastness of the room, and hadn’t quite succeeded.

“Did you sleep ok?” It took a moment for him to realize Elias was talking to him.

“Oh—yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.” Martin rubbed the side of his neck. “I actually wasn’t sure what time it was when I woke up. The curtains keep it pretty dark in there.”

“Ugh.” He had just meant to imply that it was good for sleeping, but apparently it was a sore spot for Elias. “Worst thing about this place—it’s so dark. And it really didn’t have to be, you know?” He took another sip of his coffee. “Sometimes I think my father really preferred—oh, never mind. I’ve had enough of his ghost already this morning.”

Martin took a sip of his tea in the brief but uncomfortable silence that followed; he was saved from having to think of something to say when the front door closed loudly. He turned to look toward the foyer, but no one was there.

“Oh, that was just Allan,” Elias said. “He usually heads in about now.”

“Oh. Does he—know we’re all here?”

“He’ll figure it out.”

“What, you didn’t tell him?”

“Nah. He’ll ask if he cares. He’s always pretty wrapped up at work this time of year.”

“What—what does he do?” Martin asked.

“He’s a professor at the University here in Kent.”

“Oh. In Canterbury.”

“Yeah.” Elias, who had been holding his coffee cup quite comfortably between his hands until this point, set it down on the side table. “Actually, to be completely honest—I mean, he is very wrapped up, he just gets that way—but I wasn’t sure I wanted to involve him in all this. You don’t—you don’t happen to know if Allan was all right there? In the—other dimension?”

Martin opened his mouth before he knew what he was going to say, and then turned to Jon. It was clear neither of them had expected this question, and Martin felt both guilty and grateful when Jon took the responsibility for answering it.

“He—no. He was not all right. He died. A long time ago, before you did. Did you—want to know about it?”

Elias sighed. “I just—had this feeling, I guess. I don’t know. Will it help if I know? Help him, I mean?”

“I have no idea,” Jon said.

“Huh.” Elias leaned forward in his armchair and clasped his hands together, contemplating, and then turned to Martin. “Would you want to know, if you were me?”

Martin shook his head, holding up his hands in front of him. “Oh, if Jon doesn’t know if it will help, I definitely don’t. I—”

“I know. But what—what would you do?”

“I guess—” Martin looked at Jon, who shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s right, and honestly, I’m probably the worst person to ask, but—yeah, I’d want to know.”

“Ok,” Elias said, sitting back against the chair. “Tell me.”

“He was… consumed. By a—through—a Leitner.”

“A Leitner?” Elias was confused. “Like—Jurgen Leitner?”

“That’s what we called his books,” Martin explained. “The books from his collection.”

“The collection in the archives right now,” Elias asked.

“Yes.”

“And Allan was—consumed—by a book.”

“Well, they were different there—” Martin started to say, but he was cut off by a burst of laughter from Elias.

“Of course he was.” He continued to laugh, but his laughter became more strained. “That would be exactly how Allan would go in a world full of monsters.” He leaned forward, and the laughter came to a gradual stop as he rested his head in his hands, elbows supported by his knees.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Martin said, knowing exactly how little it helped.

“No, no—it’s—it makes perfect sense. It just—does,” Elias said, before finally raising his head. “So, what do you think—I keep him away from the Leitner collection? That’s easy enough. He’s never been to the Institute in his life.”

Martin and Jon met each other’s eyes again.

“It’s never—it’s never simple,” Jon said slowly. “I don’t know if it means anything, but it was a long time ago. Certainly the entities had an interest in you there that they didn’t here—that they don’t. That can’t—that can’t be a bad thing. For you or Allan.”

“I’m sorry,” Elias said, sitting up again. He sighed, reached for his coffee, and resumed holding the mug with both hands. Martin realized it was the way a person holds a hot drink when trying to warm their fingers, even though there was no way it could be that hot anymore.

“No need to apologize,” Martin said. “It’s—it’s a lot.”

“Tell me—tell me about Jonah Magnus. And me. I want to hear it from you.”

Jon took a long sip of tea; Martin was glad he had made it for him. “You already know the basic story. What do you want to know about it?”

“Well, ok. Why me? Why did he choose me?”

“I suppose… I suppose you did have a certain profile. You had the right social status to run the Institute. Your—experience with Allan may have primed you in some way. And—” he stopped.

“What?”

“There was no one watching you. Well, no one who—”

“No one who cared.”

“No. No one who—who would—object too strongly if you changed. Slowly. Dedicated yourself to the Institute. Became Jonah.”

“I see.” Elias turned his cup in his hands.

“On the other hand—you weren’t the only one he could have chosen. Not at all. In a very real sense, you were just unlucky. In the wrong place.”

“Sure.” He continued to focus on his cup. “Was it—was it fast, at least? For me?”

Jon sighed. “No. No, it was—long. And slow. And—terrifying.”

Martin shuddered just a little at Jon’s words; he wondered if Jon hadn’t taken it a bit far, but Elias stayed perfectly calm.

“I see,” Elias said again. “Do you think—I know you said I was in the wrong place, but—is it possible that—maybe that’s not true? Maybe that was—my purpose?”

“Your—purpose?” Jon looked directly at Elias. “What—”

“I just think—I never understood why I went to the Institute in the first place. I mean—I kind of did, I thought I’d take a low-level research job, waste some time, do something that would have pissed off my father a bit—but I never really understood why. Not really. And I ended up doing everything he wanted anyway.”

“Well—I’m only guessing, but I think there must have been some sort of pull between the two dimensions, and maybe—”

“And maybe my real reason for existing was there, in that other dimension, to be—that. Some sort of useless, waiting husk that Jonah Magnus could crawl into and—”

“No,” Martin interrupted him. “That’s not—”

“But it makes sense. Just like Allan being eaten by a book. It would explain some things—why I couldn’t just walk away from all this. It would explain why I could never find anything else to go to. If that was why I exist, and it was finished years ago—”

“Jon, please—”

“No.” Jon’s face was pale, and there was an edge of controlled anger in his voice. “That’s not a thing. It is no one’s purpose to serve them. No one exists specifically to suffer and—”

They were interrupted by the sound of voices drifting through the foyer from the hallway; a moment later, the remaining houseguests appeared.

“Morning, everyone.” Sasha seemed very refreshed compared to the previous night; Melanie and Georgie, standing behind her and talking quietly to each other, seemed maybe slightly less refreshed. When no one responded, Sasha’s cheeriness faded slightly. “Is—is everything ok?”

Elias took a deep breath and sat up; smiling, he set his now-empty coffee cup down on the side table. “Everything’s fine. We’re fine.”

Georgie yawned, having missed the nuances of the exchange. “Well—we were wondering—had anyone thought about breakfast yet?”

“Yes and no,” Elias said, standing up. “I thought about the fact that I hadn’t thought about it until this morning. I have some stuff here if anyone’s starving, but we’re going to need to go out before too long. There are a few small places nearby, but I’m thinking we’re better off going to the Sainsbury’s in town and stocking up. I can—”

“Georgie and I can do that,” Melanie said. “You’re letting us stay here, we can at least pitch in and help out with food.”

In the end, Melanie, Georgie, and Sasha all ended up leaving for the store, with plans to bring back several days’ worth of food. After they left, Elias, façade crumpling, turned back toward Jon and Martin.

“I’m sorry for—that. Before they came in. It’s very easy for me to think too much.”

Martin waited to see if Jon would say something, but he seemed very lost in his own thoughts.

“It’s—it’s all right.” He was, again, very aware of how little these words helped.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take a moment.”

“No. Not at all.”

“Help yourself to—whatever. Anything.”

“All right. Um—thanks.”

Elias stuffed both hands into his pockets as he walked out of the room, back toward the direction of his bedroom. He left his empty coffee cup sitting on the side table next to Jon, who remained sullen and withdrawn. If Martin could have easily reached over to touch his arm, physically remind Jon of his presence without disrupting his thoughts too much, he would have, but the couch was too far away from the chair.

He was pretty sure Jon knew he was there, regardless.

He turned back to his cup of tea. It had gone quite cold by now, but he drank it anyway.

#the magnus archives #tma #mag pod #tma spoilers #jonmartin #tma fanfic #my writing

[jammatown919]

Cursed Part One

Content: Luz and Amity visit a night market and come across a peculiar paper spell.

Luz knew to be wary of buyable paper spells; Eda had made sure of that before bringing her and Amity to a magic night market. However, just because she was wary didn't mean she couldn't be curious.

After all, how could she be expected to ignore a stall advertising cures for all sorts of magical ailments, including curses? What did it matter if the vast majority of the merchandise consisted of the paper spells Eda had warned her against? Just because they were there didn't mean she was actually going to buy one. She just wanted to check it out.

"Luz, I don't think this is a good idea." Amity grabbed onto Luz's arm to keep her from walking toward the stall. "Eda told us to stay away from this stuff."

"We're only looking." Luz promised, gently pulling her arm away. "I know we probably won't find anything, but I just want to make sure we're not passing up an opportunity to help Eda. After all she's done for me, I want to do something for her, y'know?"

Amity let out a sigh, looking conflicted.

"I want to help her too, especially after she let me move in, but there's almost no chance a random night market stall is going to have what we need. A paper spell that can remove curses with zero drawbacks would probably be regulated by the Emperor's Coven. Only people with connections would be able to get it."

"I know that, but what's the harm in checking it out?" Luz insisted. "I promise we'll bail if it looks sketchy."

"Okay, fine," Amity decided. "But don't trust anything the vendor says. He'll definitely say whatever it takes to get you to buy something."

"Eda went over this three times on the way here." Luz gently took Amity's hand and began walking toward the stall. "I know what to do."

They approached the stall confidently, just as they'd been instructed. Vendors were far more likely to try and sell them garbage because of their age, so they had compensate by seeming as mature as possible. They needed to look like they knew exactly what they were doing.

"Hello," Amity said politely as they reached the counter. "I see you carry magical cures."

"That's right." The vendor gave her a grin that was only mildly predatory. He was a cat-like individual with giant feline ears and wide eyes. An orange-and-white striped pattern covered every inch of him that was visible. "Are you young ladies looking for something in particular?"

"We're looking for something that can remove a curse from our friend." Luz chimed in.

"Could you perhaps be a bit more specific?" The vendor leaned over the counter so that his face was only a few inches from Luz's. Amity bared her fangs at him and he responded with a toothy smile, revealing little fangs of his own.

"The curse transforms her into a giant monster." Luz went on, slightly uncomfortable. The vendor let out a soft chuckle, seemingly pleased with her reaction, and moved out of her personal space.

"Well, that certainly sounds like a nasty one," He remarked. "But I think I've got just the thing for you."

He turned and began to rifle through his merchandise, a striped tail that had not previously been visible swishing behind him.

"This guy's kind of a creep." Amity said quietly. The vendor's ears twitched, but he didn't seem to care that she'd just insulted him. "I think we should go."

"Just one more minute," Luz insisted. "I want to see if he has anything."

"Luz..." Amity pressed.

"Please, amor?"

"That's not fair," Amity's expression became somewhat grumpy and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You know I can't resist the pet names."

"That's why I use them." Luz replied teasingly, earning a light shove to her shoulder.

Before the two could finish their little 'argument', the vendor turned back around and presented a thick scroll clasped between two paw-like hands.

"This should do the trick." He told them, opening the scroll so they could examine it. "It can be used twice, so you can put the curse back if you change your mind."

Luz wasn't sure why anyone would go through all the trouble of removing a curse just to put it back, but that wasn't particularly concerning. They could just get rid of the scroll after the first use.

"This actually looks pretty legit." Amity squinted at the scroll, eyes darting around the paper to search for even the smallest flaw.

"Legit enough that we should get it?" Luz asked hopefully.

"I'm not sure about that." Amity replied. "I think we should have Eda look at it."

"Unfortunately, I can't guarantee I'll still have this in stock if you two leave and come back with your friend." The vendor said smoothly.

"I think we should just get it." Luz decided.

"Luz, it could very well be a scam." Amity warned.

"I know, but it's not like we're going to use it until we're sure. Other than some wasted money, what would be the harm?"

"Oh, alright." Amity sighed. "Get the scroll."

Luz reached into her pocket for some money and set it down on the counter. The vendor counted it up, let out a satisfied hum, and handed the scroll to Luz, who stowed it away in her hoodie pocket.

"Remember, two uses!" The vendor called as Luz and Amity turned and walked back into the constantly moving crowd.

----------------------------------------------------------------- When they finally managed to find Eda among the sea of people, she was engage in a heated 'negotiation' over the price of some exotic spice. Afterward, Luz and Amity were so busy laughing at the look on the seller's face when Eda somehow managed to get her to offer the spice for free that they forgot about the scroll until much later that night.

"It's fine, we can just show her tomorrow." Luz said, gently uncurling the scroll. "Besides, we should probably figure out how to use it first."

"That's easy," Amity replied. "You just say this incantation."

"Wait, I'm supposed to know how to pronounce all this?" Luz stared incredulously at the strange symbols on the paper. "I don't even know what this language is!"

"Don't worry, I can teach you. And you only need to know the first part." Amity plopped down on her sleeping bag and patted the space next to her, prompting Luz to join her. "If it's working, the rest should just come to you naturally."

"Oooo, a tutoring session," Luz said smoothly. She reached over and gave Amity's nose a little tap with one finger. "With my favorite tutor."

"Stop being cute, it's distracting." Amity swatted playfully at her. "Anyway, see this symbol right here?" She tapped the first symbol on the paper. "You pronounce it like this-"

The sound that came out of Amity's mouth was unlike anything Luz had ever heard before; something between a grunt and a hiss. Amity had to repeat it three times just so Luz could fully process it.

It took a while before Luz was able to adequately mimic the sound, and by the time Amity decided that Luz knew enough to be able to cast the spell, they'd been at it for at least two hours.

"Can't we do a little more?" Luz asked as Amity began to roll the scroll back up. "I love getting tutored by you."

"It's late." Amity gave her a peck on the cheek and stowed the scroll away in the duffle bag where she kept her things. "We can practice a little more in the morning if you want, but we should go to sleep now."

"Okay," Luz agreed. "But can I stay over here tonight? I'm feeling cuddly."

"You always feel cuddly." Amity pointed out, but she rested her head on Luz's shoulder nonetheless.

"Guilty." Luz said with a chuckle, putting an arm around Amity's shoulders. "Goodnight, cariño."

-------------------------------------------------------------- It was the next afternoon, after coming home from school, when Luz and Amity finally got the chance to give Eda the scroll. As expected, Eda was initially unimpressed.

"Kids," Eda's ears twitched with disappointment. "Did we not have an entire conversation about this before I took you to that market?"

"I know you said these things are usually scams, but usually doesn't mean always." Luz replied, brandishing her purchase. "Amity and I both think it looks legit, and you'll be able to tell for sure."

Eda rolled her eyes and took the scroll from Luz, squinting intently at it and mumbling something about a waste of perfectly good money. After a few moments, her mumbling ceased and her ears perked up curiously. Luz swore that she could detect a hint of hope in her mentor's eyes.

"Holy shit," Eda said quietly. She looked up and locked eyes with Luz, suddenly looking very serious. "You didn't hear me say that."

"I heard nothing." Luz agreed, not at all surprised. This wasn't the first time she'd heard Eda swear and immediately been sworn to secrecy. Amity, however, looked completely flabbergasted as she looked on from her perch near the bottom of the stairs.

"Anyway, I've seen a lot of fakes in my day and even I can't find anything wrong with this." Eda continued as if nothing had happened. "I think it's actually legit. Where the heck did you manage to find this thing?"

"It was at a magical remedy stall in the market." Amity chimed in.

"So, can we use it?" Luz asked excitedly. "Amity taught me the incantation last night."

Eda looked down at the scroll, frowning slightly.

"Come on, Eda, don't you want to finally get rid of your curse?"

"Alright, alright." Eda sighed and rolled up the scroll, handing it back to Luz. "But we're doing this outside. I don't want to blow up the house if something goes wrong."

Luz chose to take that as a joke, but followed Eda outside nonetheless, pausing only to make sure Amity was still behind her. The three of them walked about a yard from the Owl House before Eda decided they'd gone far enough.

"Okay, let's do this."

Luz smiled confidently and opened up the scroll, reaching out to grab Eda's hand. She took a deep breath and tried her best to recall last night's tutoring session. After a moment, she began reciting the incantation, hyperaware of how wonky her pronunciation was for the part that Amity had taught her. Once she'd gotten past that bit, however, her voice became smooth and sure, and she caught Amity flashing a thumbs-up out of the corner of her eye.

By the time she was finished, Luz was out of breath and slightly lightheaded.

"Did it work?" Eda asked as Luz caught her breath. "I don't feel any different."

"Maybe it takes a minute?" Amity guessed.

"I- woah..." Luz completely lost track of what she was going to say, distracted by the world beginning to swirl around her. The trees in the nearby woods all blurred together and her legs began to shake.

"Luz?" Amity asked, for some reason sound as though she were underwater.

Luz tried to turn toward her girlfriend, causing the world to spin faster for a moment before stopping altogether. Mildly relieved, she attempted to lift her head from the ground.

Wait, when had she ended up on the ground? Where had Eda and Amity gone? She couldn't see them, though she was sure that at least Amity was still there, judging from the faint yelling. That was Amity yelling, wasn't it?

Luz tried to call out, but her head was growing too fuzzy to form words and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Maybe she'd feel better after a nap.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, there was a vague notion that she should try and stay awake, but that was quickly dispelled as she began to sink into darkness. Her back was beginning to ache fiercely, but she would be fine after some rest.

I'll be fine, her mind whispered.

What was that sensation in her limbs?

I'll be fine.

Why did her eyes hurt?

I'll be fine.

What was Amity screaming about?

I'll be fine.

To be continued...

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #eda clawthorne #toh #lumity #moral of the story: don't let your kids loose in a night market #also haha cliffhanger #i only proofread this once #sorry for any typos

[mistaeq]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a matchup?? I'm 5'4, INFP-T, and I'm a chubby girl with brown skin and glasses with thick lens! I'm a perfectionist that often gets stressed out easily and think critical of myself when I fail, sometimes to the point I might harm myself. I'm trying to better myself though.

Matchup

TW // self-harm is mentioned

Thank you for your request! You sound like an interesting and friendly person, and I'm sure your art is amazing ^_^ enjoy your matchup~

Diamond Is Unbreakable and Vento Aureo Matchup

WORD COUNT: 1.25k

My first matchup choice for you is...

Higashikata Josuke!

Josuke loves your height. As he's really tall, he enjoys resting his head on yours, hugging you from behind.

The Higashikata boy is a sucker for your physical appearance, he feels so lucky you chose him over all the guys in Morioh Cho. He loves hugging you when you aren't expecting it.

He says glasses make you look the cutest thing ever. If you feel uncomfortable with your glasses, he won't bring the topic up. Just know he finds you perfect anyway.

He's the kind of dumb fuck who steals your glasses.

You're a perfectionist? Maybe it's a side of Josuke you don't really see much, since he's pretty clumsy. But he is, too. Above all on his physical appearance. Above all on his pompadour. Above all on his eyebrows.

Also, Crazy Diamond is a licensed perfectionist, though. Since its ability is bringing stuff at its original form, he pays attention to every detail, and won't let Josuke move away until it hasn't fixed things how it wants.

If you happen to see a lock of his hair out of place, knowing you're careful abour details and perfection, Josuke will let you fix his pompadour. But only because it's you.

Josuke is used to comforting you in moments when you think critical of yourself, when you happen to fail. He has a certain best friend that does the same.

If he happens to find out you've been self harming, he'll sit next to you. And will lovingly and respectfully talk to you, without pushing you, if you don't feel comfortable.

He'll take you hands in his, and caress your wrists. You'll notice Josuke has healed you. He will kiss you, where your wounds were, and if his love can heal other wounds, he won't ever abandon you.

Tomoko loves you like a daughter, she knows her son is safe and happy with you.

When you met, you had an intimidating aura, all around you, and Josuke was able to see through it. Koichi told him to pay attention, but the tall boy never gave up on you.

Now, the whole Duwang Gang absolutely loves you. You stood with them against Kira, you went through heaven and hell with them, and you happened to hang out with them even when Josuke couldn't. You boyfriend brought you in such a good atmosphere.

You know there's someone who's got your back any moment. Also, there's plenty of reasons to laugh with them. With your boyfriend and Okuyasu around you, you're not the only giggly loud mess.

"Babe..." Josuke whined, tackling you on the couch, squeezing you with his weight. "Do you really have to attend that Writing Class... wouldn't it be better to stay here and cuddle with your amazing boyfriend that happens to be me?"

He understood you don't really enjoy those lessons and that you get stressed over them. So he tries to keep you home from those with every type of excuse. He once pretended to be sick to keep you by his side.

Josuke would be more than happy to be your armchair, while you draw. Just because he enjoys keeping you close while you do something you like. It makes him happy.

He's amazed by your drawing skills, and he usually showers you with compliments. Josuke tried to draw something for you. It was a horrible drawing, but you never told him. What you cared about was the fact that it was Josuke's one.

He sees you pout because you'd like something you can't afford? Josuke's romantic ass will buy it for you in a heartbeat.

If you enjoy daydreaming while listening to music, Josuke will make your dreams come true. He'll let you close your eyes, in his room, music all around you, while he holds you and kisses you.

My second matchup choice for you is...

Bruno Bucciarati!

You're his right hand. You have your desk right in Bruno's office.

Bucciarati likes art. And you're like art for him, your beautiful skin is, your whole body is. He likes caressing you and kissing you.

As a responsible capo, he made sure everyone in his gang respected you the way you deserve, but they're fine, so you are too.

Bruno tries to keep it professional in front of the gang, but when you two are alone in his office, he's the one who approaches your desk, looking for attention.

Your glasses have a special meaning. You now use the ones he gifted you. Their frame has the same pattern as Bruno's signature suit.

He cares about that gift, too, that's why when he cuddles with you or he smothers you in kisses, he usually takes off your glasses from your nose.

It's a good thing you're a perfectionist. Bruno cares about precision in work too, and having someone so precise by his side guarantees a high quality work to be done.

Bruno's desk is messy please put his pens and tools in order he's baby.

When you happen to fail in a mission or get something wrong while you work with him, Bucciarati knows you're gonna underestimate yourself. That's why he always pulls you in a tight embrace and reminds you he's deeply proud of you and thar you've done great.

Bruno banned every type of sharp thing from the base. You happened to harm yourself several times, but he won't allow this anymore.

He can't see you suffer, and if you want to express your worries, he'll be there for you. He'll spend extra time with you, if necessary, but won't leave your side until he knows you're fine enough.

When you met, your intimidating aura didn't stop him from treating you a nice dish of spaghetti at Libeccio's and politely asking you to join Passione. Bucciarati is an amazing man.

If he happens to see you giggling and having fun with the gang, especially Mista and Narancia, will sincerely thank them afterwards for making you laugh and smile.

Passione takes your time away, you honestly have no time to think about the Writing Class, and you're quite thankful for this.

"If that Writing Class stresses you so much... just don't go anymore." you can't believe it's a smart man like Bruno, cuddling with you while telling you this. "Passione already gives you lots of work... you don't need more pressure, tesoro..."

You'd rather spend more time drawing, and remember to show Bruno and the gang your drawings! They'll genuinely and positively react to your art. Bucciarati pushed Abbacchio to react a little more to your enthusiasm, but knowing him, after seeing Leone smile you know he appreciated your drawing.

You afterwards thank Bruno for being so caring towards you and worrying about the gang's reactions to your drawing.

Bucciarati spoils you. But only if you're a good girl. "What about we finish signing this last stack of papers and then your loving boyfriend gets you a special gift?" and he buys you the art supplies you were pouting at last time you two went on a date.

If he finds you listening to music, probably daydreaming about him, he'll join you, catching your attention singing a couple lines of the song.

Bruno's suave and soothing voice is perfect. As soon as you hear him, you stop your music, without opening your eyes, and listen to him humming a couple more lines of the song, before the feeling of his loving lips meeting yours.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jojo matchup #jojo headcanons #jojo part four #diamond is unbreakable #jojo part five #vento aureo #golden wind #josuke higashikata #josuke x reader #bruno bucciarati #bucciarati x reader

[vios-rockland-corner]

Dollmaker: Sano Kojima

Hello there!  I got a request to talk a little bit more about Sano and Akira from the unfinished Dollmaker game build by Runawayoutlaw.  This build was only released on Patreon.  I only touched on them briefly before, so this time I figure I’ll just dedicate a post to each.

I’ll do my best to provide an accurate depiction of how Sano was presented in the game and then go into some speculations.

[Full spoilers ahead for Dollmaker]

Before I start, just a friendly reminder that this game is unfinished for the most part.  There’s a few segments and paths I would say are “complete,” but it’s quite obvious that much more was meant to be added.  If this game were to ever be revisited, it’s likely the setting and characters would all have to be revamped to fit into the Rockland universe.  As it stands, it’s best to say this game is both independent from the BTD universe as well as the Rockland universe.

Another thing I should note, is that sadly it doesn’t appear that Sano’s paths are all in the game. There’s literally only two endings you get for him (plus a secret ending), and they’re both death.  Or at least…one is death, the other is just stated as a “Bad End” but doesn’t specify if or how you’ve died.  

At one point, you got to go into Sano’s room and have a look around, but couldn’t progress beyond that. Not even to leave the room.  It’s either a bug or the paths weren’t put in following that point.  Other parts would kind of put you into a “loop” of sorts before you either died or ended up in Akira’s clutches (we’ll get to him in his own post, don’t you worry). With that said, I’ll do my best to try to paint an accurate image of Dollmaker Sano.

In Game

The game introduces a setting with the MC studying as a medical student with a particular focus in demons (though they’ve yet had the chance to actually practice their skills on any demons it seems).  Apparently, an “interspecies act” has been implemented fairly recently.  It’s common knowledge in this world about the existence of demons and there is active cohabitation.  There’s a lecture/presentation occurring that day emphasizing this.  One of the speakers is none other than Sano Kojima.  He’s not only a surgeon in this, but also apparently an ambassador for the interspecies movement.  

MC catches his eye and you have a little chat with him afterwards, leading to Sano inviting you to come have an in-depth discussion with him sometime about their line of work. The MC can choose to either go with him then or say they’ll think about it.  Either way it doesn’t matter because the friendly professional sticks you with a needle when your back is turned.  When the MC wakes up, Sano makes it clear right from the start what his objective is: to turn the MC into a living doll.

What’s there to say about Sano?  If someone has ever played the original Boyfriend to Death game where Sano was first introduced, I can tell you he’s very similar in a lot of ways.  He’s a very calm individual who prefers an MC who is more cooperative.  He’ll kill the MC if they start thrashing about in an attempt to escape.  If you keep struggling, he has no qualms putting you down.  One thing different is the way he does that is by biting your neck, likely injecting fatal poison.

Ah yes!  Like in BTD, Sano is still a naga in this game.  Or at least, half naga.  He does say he’s a child of interspecies relations.  You don’t get to see his naga form here though.  The bite is as far as we get.  I can’t recall if he ever bit you in BTD, so I can’t say if his willingness to use his fangs is something new.  One thing in Dollmaker he mentions is that he doesn’t feel brave enough to show people his naga form.  He has a painting in his room of a female naga he admired/respected.  It’s possible he’s a little self-conscious about his naga side, but not completely.  Sano can also use magic in Dollmaker as well, usually associated with fire it seems. Whether this is associated directly with his naga side or the result of outside training, I’m not sure.  We don’t witness him using a lot of magic here other than the initial binding spell that not only guarantees the MC can’t kill Sano (or else they die too), but they also can’t leave the house.  The MC can travel anywhere WITHIN the house though.

Speaking of which, Sano I’d say is a little more courteous this time around.  In the previous game, he was literally using the MC as a guinea pig for cruel experiments to satisfy his intellectual curiosity with medicine. He even showed a few signs of sadism there (though as much as some of the other characters).  This time around, such experimentation is extremely toned down. After all, his goal is to make you “his,” by turning you into a living doll.  For those curious, there’s no good hints as to whether his desire to turn you into a doll is to satisfy romantic or sexual needs, or because he quite literally wants a doll/toy.  We don’t really get that far down the line to learn where this desire to turn someone into a doll stems from.  He’s done some practice though, specifying there’s a difference between turning a demon into a doll, and turning a human into one.  Apparently though, he says not everyone can be turned into a doll.  

We do know he lives with at least one successful transformation of his: Annabelle. Annabelle for the most part seems perfectly content with her doll appendages, and I believe even feels she’s superior to the MC because of them.  Both Sano and her seem to view it as a form of perfection reached. Annabelle would likely be the key here as to what kind of relationship Sano has with his “dolls.”  Annabelle does feel offended and perhaps jealous by the MC’s presence.  It’s possible Sano treated Annabelle well and now she feels as if she’s being replaced.

Sano still has his signature centipedes in this game as well, though just as a small discussion point this time.  They don’t crawl into the MC’s brain this time around, but if you smash them you get a “Bad End.”  This ending I couldn’t tell how you died, but there’s a good chance Sano wasn’t happy with you.  Does Sano do any experimentation with the MC?  Very minimal.  He injects you with something that makes the character sick, though I think the purpose of this is for Sano to observe your reactions and see if your body is suitable for the change into a living doll.  There’s no real extreme sadism I’d say from Sano in Dollmaker, other than an occasional devious smirk here and there.  It’s far less apparent though than it was in BTD.  Like I said, you get free reign of the house in this game, and as long as you’re not trying to escape, Sano’s pretty polite to you and makes normal small talk.  He’s not trying to outright scare you and he still places his medical duties as priority when he’s called out for work.

We don’t get to see a lot of direct interactions between Sano and Akira here, but they seem to be on good terms as brothers.  However, I should note that Sano will surprisingly relinquish his claims to the MC if Akira starts to show interest in them.  I think this is more so because Sano is aware of Akira’s more clingy and violent tendencies, rather than being a good brother who doesn’t want to get in the way of Akira’s romance.  There’s a part where Akira is being rough with the MC and Sano goes to knock on the door. Akira makes the MC tell Sano that “they’re Akira’s now” and Sano just stutters “Okay” and walks away.  It’s interesting because in BTD, Akira could like the MC but wouldn’t go against Sano to let them out.  Sano was the one in charge.  In Dollmaker though?  If Akira wants something, Sano will quickly step out of the way to avoid escalating things. For the record, that’s likely not a bad idea.

Last little fun piece of trivia I believe I stumbled upon as a little secret.  At night you can go in one of the rooms and actually catch Cain Zeitgeist pleasuring Sano.  There was no CG or sprites popping up for this scene though, which I seriously wanted here, haha.  Apparently Sano and Cain do have a close relationship in Dollmaker, but you don’t learn too much about it.  It definitely sounds like Cain takes the lead though here.  Oh, but despite this treat for the viewer, it doesn’t end well for the MC. Cain catches you spying on them and calls you by your name even.  So he knows you already, either because Sano said something, or it’s possible Cain spies on Sano.  I actually wouldn’t be surprised if Cain popped over because he was a little jealous of Sano finding a new plaything (just based on the dialogue).  That’s still speculation though.  But Cain doesn’t really take kindly to your peeping, so he promptly kills you.  That’s how you get the “Don’t Interrupt” ending.

Free Talk

Whether it was bugs preventing me from progressing more or certain dialogue paths hadn’t been put into the game yet, it’s obvious the unfinished build of Dollmaker doesn’t let you see the full story of your relationship with Sano.  I’m positive there was going to be at least one ending where he successfully turns you into a doll, but we’ll never know what other kinds of endings we could have gotten.  Is it possible for him to let you go?  Can you become lovers?  Will he only love you if you become his doll, or can you remain human?  Does he try to slowly warm you up to the idea of becoming a doll?  Or does he attempt to force you to go through with the transformation regardless of if the MC is close to Sano or not?

Other things to consider are what IS the nature of his relationship with Annabelle?  Is the MC here to replace her and does Sano no longer have feelings for Annabelle?  Did he ever have special feelings for her before?  It’s certainly a curious thing when you have a person already so devoted to you that they’d give up their human arms and legs forever.  Why does Sano feel like he needs another doll?  Is the doll obsession part of some deeper insecurity of his?  Is he truly a cold person that gets tired of his “things” eventually and needs to replace them later?  Was he expecting Annabelle and the MC to cohabit the house peacefully?

There were other things we didn’t get to see, like more of Sano’s interactions with other characters like Akira or Cain.  There was even a random npc named Mio I think? She just pops up randomly for a few seconds and we don’t get to see much else of her, but Sano knew her.  Although it is possible based on what I saw that Sano tends to be a pretty busy character that naturally wouldn’t interact as much with the other residents and visitors.  He also tended to just let others do as they please.  Even the MC to an extent.  That kind of makes it more interesting how a semi-aloof (he’s not unfriendly here) character like Sano has this need to take demons or humans and turn them into something of his own.  It’s possible he doesn’t feel like he connects with the rest of humanity on a normal level.  That seems to be a fair statement.  But he still has a desire for some form of companionship.  His IDEAL being though (aka, living doll) is definitely not the status quo though.

I’m so sorry there isn’t much more I can give than this, but I think I did the best with what we had. I don’t think this exact version of Sano will ever pop up again in the Rockland universe.  As I’ve said before, the way the Rockland universe is being set up I believe already contradicts some elements set up in Dollmaker.  Who knows what will become of Sano in the future.  I think if the character is ever revisited for a third time, there’s still going to be some core similarities with his personality. He always seems to be in the medical profession and tends to be a calmer, more serious character.  His backstory I’m sure would get revamped once again.  But who knows, maybe he’ll once again have his doll obsession.  Only time will tell.

#Dollmaker #Sano Kojima #runawayoutlaw #horror game #unfinished build #18+

[hurryupimstarving]

I remember in 9th grade my english teacher made us write an essay about a turning point in our lives. I think I bullshitted my way through it. I was fourteen, emo, depressed, and thought I was ‘too cool for school’. But looking back on it, I’ve had a lot of turning points in my life and if they had never happened I’d be dead.

The first one was when my grandpa died. I was eight, he was getting taken off life support, I didn’t understand. There were words being strung together in an order that I couldn’t comprehend. “Let him go slowly.” “End his suffering.” “It’s better this way.” What are these words to an eight year old who only ever understood her grandpa as the man she had met a year ago who flew kites with her and bought her tooney chicken from KFC. I didn’t understand why he died. Later I learned it was because he was a heavy smoker and he only stopped when he met me. A good sentiment but a late one. My family never talked about it afterwards. I still sometimes find myself thinking he’s in the Philippines or somewhere out of my reach, but alive. That was my first meeting with Death. He smiled sweetly at me as he took my grandpa but after that the world seemed darker. A scary place where good men were taken from little girls who didn’t have a lot of good in their life. 

The next was when I was eleven. It wasn't a big moment but it stirred something in me. My teacher made us read “The Breadwinner” and that was the first time I ever comprehended the great expansiveness of this world. My biggest concerns at the time were keeping my friends and keeping away bullies. Parvana’s biggest concern was staying alive, where her father was, and feeding her family. I thought to myself, “How can life be so cruel to a child?” Later I learned that life is cruel to a great number of children and has been so for a very long time. I chose to dive into literature after that, expanding my views, learning about horrors, trying to understand Death.

He greeted me personally when I was thirteen. Young, depressed, and anxious I told my parents about my two suicide attempts. They took me to a doctor who told me they would forget that meeting. They would erase this from the records and forget my confession. This way I could still ‘get a job’. I broke after that. I crashed like a mirror dropped from a dainty hand and shattered into a million pieces. I sat alone in my bedroom with a pair of sewing scissors. Everything else sharp was taken away from me. I didn’t move for hours. I was frozen. Time stood still and all I did was look at Death. Death looked back at me. We didn’t speak, just paused there like dancers before a song begins. This is the first time he spoke. 

“Do you want to keep living like this?” He asked.

“No.”

“Then you have two options. Either you die or you live differently. Simple as that. What do you want?” He made it clear it was my choice. He never pressured me or forced me into something I didn’t want, just sat with me and waited. It took awhile but I chose to live. And live I would, much differently I promised him. 

I changed a lot after that. After the conversation with Death I was determined to live better. I still had anxiety, I still had depression, I still struggled. But at least I was trying. I signed up for a  week-long program in a different province. It was a youth conference and there we were learning about international affairs. It was my first time away from my parents, my first time away from my friends, my first time alone. I was so awkward it was painful. I’m embarrassed for myself. I made no friends, I didn't talked, and cried myself to sleep four out of the seven days. I was offered another choice after it ended. I could stay that awkward and shy or I could change. And change I did.

At fourteen someone believed in me. Even before I believed in myself. This was in the shadow of the conference and while I wanted to me more confident, it was easier said than done. Now I was kind of a smart kid, I never participated in class but I got decent grades. But then my social teacher made me a lawyer in a mock trial. I was shitting bricks. Not only did I have to talk in front of the class, I had to talk for a while and argue and win. I could’ve backed out but let’s be real I was too shy to talk to my teacher about it. So I did it. I ended up loving it. You don’t know the rush of confidence you get when you beat the popular kids in a mock trial with all their friends voting. I realized I was good. I wanted to keep being good. I chose to pursue law after that. I’m thankful for that teacher. At eighteen I had an early quarter life crisis. See while most people were planning their lives, I was busy trying to keep off Death. Each day I struggled with him and sometimes he won. I couldn’t see into the future because that day wasn’t even guaranteed. But I hit the age thirteen year old me never thought she would. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

“I guess you have some choices to make, huh?” Death smiled at me.

I chose to be a political science major and pursued that dream of becoming a lawyer. I started planning my life. Most people said it was too early but for someone who didn’t think she’d get to live this long I was excited. I wanted to travel the world. I wanted to learn all that I could. I wanted to experience all that I could. But first up was the world. A bit of a daunting task but after facing off with Death nothing could be as challenging as that. 

I was nineteen when I studied abroad in Kampala, Uganda. I guess you could say I went all out. I travelled alone to a country I barely even heard about and there I was with eight other strangers in a three bedroom house in the middle of Africa. It was one of the best choices of my life. I don’t think I can recall a time I was happier. I was making strides in my law career and trying to understand why the world was so cruel to children. I interned with a group that made reusable sanitary pads and studied at Kampala University. I didn’t want to build a school, I wanted to know why a school was even needed. My salvation was tied with theirs and that is how I view everyone around me. I made some of the best friends I’ll ever have. Partied the hardest I ever had. Met the weird people I’ll ever meet. And fell in love with humanity. We are such a strange, crazy and simple species. But it also broke my heart. I realized how much privilege I lived with when a girl told me she wished she was a boy so she could go to school without worrying about her period. Another with better grades than I could ever wish to get told me university was a dream not meant for her. I felt like a coward when I could run from the pandemic. I decided to devote the rest of my life to evening the scales of this world.

I’m twenty now. Medicated for my anxiety and depression. I have alopecia and my hair is falling out. I want to study in the UK. I want to work in the international field. I want a family. And even though I still dance with Death I love my life, I wouldn’t trade it for an ounce more happiness. These turning points shaped me and these tears watered my roots and had me reaching for the sun. But I know this isn’t the end. I know this isn’t the best it can be. I know I’ll still struggle but I’ll take it because I love living.

I don’t know who I’m writing this for. If it’s for me or to help someone else or to get this narrative out of my head. I don’t know if this will help, I don’t even know if it’s comforting for me. But I feel that it needs to be said.

I was told the path to the good life was the constant acknowledgement of one’s choices. Understanding what we’re doing and the reasons behind them. I agree. Everything I’ve done in my life has been a choice. The path of my life is laid out before me but it is my choice to move forward. Staying where I am is comfortable and safe but Death will always be there. He’s the only thing I have to contend with and fear. But he’ll still be with me in the same spot and he’ll be with me further up. And what’s in front of me is new and exciting, so why not move forward?

#writer #write #writers #written #depression #anxiety #life

[pricechecktranslations]

Chapter 2-King of the Dead

Outlaw & Lychgate chapter summary under the cut

Scene 1

 The narrator (Arth) talks about how he died alongside his parents when his carriage fell off a cliff. When he awoke, his spirit was riding on Lich’s back, separate from his body (Black Rollam birds are said to be the messengers of death). But he begged the bird to put his spirit back. Unable to fix the old one, Lich makes him a new body instead (a mud one that Lich would periodically work on, I think to imitate the effects of aging?).

Arth made his country great. Before he could complete his desire to unite Evillious, however, his body started to crumble. Lich does not repair it (he say it’s unusable, which is what he said regarding his old body), nor does he make a new one. He says that if Arth has regrets, he should rule the country of the dead now.

Scene 2

There’s not really any point to him being king now—everyone’s equal now that they’re dead. The only thing that’s a problem is everyone wondering what’s the deal with the gate and what lies beyond it (though they can all tell that it leads to the new world). There’s no need to take charge, but he has his doubts.

Arth reflects on how Allen and Riliane vanished after the fight with Ma, and how the gate appeared right after (suspects it was their doing). He thinks briefly on his role as their parent before Bruno returns. Lich is no longer following him, which flusters Bruno as he didn’t realize that, but Arth takes him to the upstairs (roof? I don’t remember the palace’s layout well) garden as that’s where he would always meet him.

Scene 3

Lich is there, wearing his black tuxedo with his white skin. Arth knows him on sight, even though this is the first he’s seen him in that form (he says something to the effect of being able to recognize people through a sort of sixth sense as no one has physical bodies anymore).

Bruno excuses himself, as Arth wants to speak to Lich alone (though before he leaves Arth learns Lich told him the story of how they knew each other). Bruno plans to wander the world with friends for a bit, find some acquaintances that aren’t at the palace, and then probably head through the gate. Arth also asks him to summon Keel Freezis for him.

Before, when Arth had been alive, Lich had been extremely shocked that Arth had been able to have children despite being mud (surprised and delighted I think). Arth knows that Lich ended up working for Conchita afterwards, having spoken to her (she’s different than he imagined, having read of her in books).

Arth wants to get everyone calmed down and direct them towards going through the gate, but he’s having problems. The Tasan soldiers still have some people trying to start fights, for one (though he’s leaving that problem to Gallerian and Michelle). The reason he called Lich over has to do with the “Dead Soldiers”.

Dead soldiers actually have physical bodies, unlike everything and everyone else. They’ve formed a group at the old Retasan fortress. They are not servants of Banica’s, and Lich denies any connection as well. Lich recounts how dead soldiers unrelated to Gluttony’s powers came up before the world ended too (which Conchita told Arth about). He and the others called them “Outlaw”.

Lich doesn’t see the problem—the Outlaws can’t hurt bodiless spirits (or be hurt by them). Arth points out that the dead soldiers have souls too, of the people they were in life. He wants to free their souls so they can move on to the new world. Lich says this has nothing to do with him, but Arth appeals to his interest as someone who wanted to make artificial life to study them.

Lich claims not to care about that anymore, but agrees anyway. He says he’ll have Eater along, as he has an artificial body Lich made, and they’ll use that to destroy the Outlaws. Arth regretfully informs him that Eater, Banica, Arte, and Pollo have already left somewhere (it doesn’t say where, just that they had something they were gonna do). They were looking for him, but since they couldn’t find him they left him behind. Arth suggests Keel would know where they are.

Keel arrives then, and offers to tell them in exchange for being able to see the dead soldiers at Retasan along with Lich. They agree—Keel says Banica went to the Graveyard. Lich doesn’t know how to get there, but they said they’d be back when their business was finished. Still, they decide to go see the situation at Retasan before then (there’s no guarantee they’ll be back soon, or at all).

Before they go, Lich asks Arth what he plans to do once everything is settled. Arth says he’ll probably stay behind, for the sake of those who don’t wish to move on to the new world (to be the “king of the dead”, as Lich puts it). He also doesn’t exclude the possibility that the Third Period and the people in it might be brought back to life somehow (suggesting Lich stay behind to help with that).

After they’ve left, Arth resolves to entrust the new world and the people in it to Allen and Riliane.

Scene 4

Lich heads out of the palace into the carriage where Keel is waiting. The coachman is someone who served as a coachman for 40 years during life (I don’t have any real evidence for this, but I feel like this is the coachman from Gift), and likes having historical figures as customers.

They head out. Lich ends up confronting Keel on not actually being Keel (there are several things he picks up on), because he’s actually Seth (being able to sense people didn’t work so well in this case because Keel is Seth’s clone).

Lich isn’t happy to see him. Seth hints that they have a history with each other (something to do with them being one and the same? mentally connected? Maybe Lich wore Seth as a mask? I’m sure the next chapter will elaborate), which is part of why Seth is the only person Lich won’t use polite language/keigo with (Lich even used it when talking to Michael).

Lich demands to know why Seth wanted to tag along with him.

#evillious chronicles

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If you happen to still do the winter prompts, I have a request, and no rush or worries if it takes time to complete! -- 47. our first date goes horribly so i don’t know why i say yes to a second date, and now, we’re stuck at the diner until the snow slows down and i’m having fun

I’m happily ignoring the madness that is tumblr right now to bring you this prompt that really got me inspired (thanks, Sarah :*) and that I only altered a little bit. :D Again, if you like this, check out all of ‘Tis The Season and if you really really like it, check out my brand new book which also contains a selection of Christmas stories - thank youuu!

47. our first date goes horribly so i don’t know why i say yes to a second date, and now, we’re stuck at the diner until the snow slows down and i’m having fun from @lifeinahole27

Fifth Date is the Charm; ~ 7, 500 words; FF.NET || AO3

Hey.

So… I caught my guy faster than expected.. doyou wanna get a cup of something at Granny’s maybe?

It’s Emma by the way.

From last week?

Killian stares down athis phone, his finger a bit numb from shock. He was fully convinced that thefirst two messages were meant for someone else and was just typing a reply(something along the lines of Sorry,lass, I think you texted the wrong number. This is the inadequate arsehole youwent out with last week.) when the other two came in.

Is it possible thatshe had more than one date last week? Well, it’s certainly more probable thanher wishing to see him again. Ever. In any situation. Let alone a social one.Their date was a “low point” for Killian. And that coming from a guy who, inthe last year alone, lost his hand, his job and his girlfriend in that preciseorder, each one as a consequence of the previous.

Hello, Swan. I feel like I should make sureyou’re aware – this is Killian Jones. Ruby set us up last week.

He tosses the phoneback on his coffee table, sure that he is not going to even get an oh shit, sorry, wrong number and headsto the kitchen, sending a silent prayer that there is some spaghetti leftbecause he does not want to gooutside in this weather.

He’s out of spaghetti.Of course, he is. The universe doesn’t leave pasta in the cupboards of thepeople it hates.

His phone pings againand he feels bad for underestimating Emma Swan’s politeness. After all, this isthe woman who stoically sat through the excruciating two hours that constitutedtheir “date” and even asked if he needed a ride home afterwards. The woman ispart angel. But then he figured that out pretty quickly. That was part of theproblem.

I know?

Killian frowns down atthe bright screen. The hell? He starts sliding his thumb over the keyboard,cursing as he gets every second word wrong in his rush.

I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You wantto get something to drink at Granny’s? Now? With me?

He scrunches up hisface. Can you get second-hand embarrassment from your own texts? Or is thatjust first-hand embarrassment?

Umm, yes? If you want to?

He doesn’t understand.Is this to be payback? Maybe she’ll stand him up? Or show up and throw a drinkin his face? In either case, she is entitled to it, he won’t deny her that. Andit won’t take more than a few minutes probably, he can replenish his pastasupplies on the way back.

Of course. I can be there in half an hour?

Sounds good. See you there.

Well, this will beinteresting.

Emma circles theperimeter around Granny’s, cursing under her breath as she tries and fails tofind a parking spot.

Honestly, if you askher why she is doing this… she can’t really tell you. She bagged her skipeasily, she got paid right away, she felt good – she did not feel like goinghome, drinking hot chocolate alone and rewatching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. for theeleventh time. And Killian Jones’s unshaven face came unbidden into her mind.

Emma’s been on a lotof bad dates, not even counting all the honey traps, and Killian Jones was byno means the worst. He didn’t get handsy, he didn’t laugh in her face when shetold him what she does for a living and he didn’t spend the evening talking toher boobs.

Admittedly, he didn’tdo much talking at all. Or staring. She was fully convinced that the guy just wasn’tinto her and regretted agreeing to the date throughout the whole evening. Shecan’t deny it left a slightly bitter taste in her mouth.

For her part, Emma wasrather pleasantly surprised when she walked into the Rabbit Hole and sawKillian waiting for her at the bar. At first glance, he was without a doubt theman she would have chosen, if she had her pick from the whole venue. Hell, fromany venue she had been in for quite some time. The broody air and hunchedshoulders didn’t bother her, she often gave off the same vibe while in public.What did bother her was that nothing changed when she approached him, sayinghis name. Oh, he straightened up and turned to her with an attempt at a smilebut it dropped as soon as he set eyes on her.

And, yeah, alright,she didn’t put that much effort into her look – just her standard jeans, a nicewhite sweater, her favourite leather jacket and a fluffy scarf that wasprobably not the sexiest touch. She’d curled her hair though and done hermake-up in her favourite beautiful but understated way. She’d thought shelooked nice. Apparently Killian Jones didn’t think so. He never even took hishands out of his pockets.

He sits down in one ofthe more secluded booths at Granny’s and breathes a sigh of relief when neitherof the two waitresses in the diner are Ruby.

On the way here, herealized Emma might have very well asked him to come so she can pointaccusatorily at him while giving Ruby a piece of her mind for setting her upwith someone the likes of him.

Honestly, he has noidea what the hell Lucas was thinking when she did that. He has brought hissocial interactions down to the bare minimum during the last few months, hecertainly hasn’t entertained any members of the fairer sex since Milah lookedat him with all the disappointment in the world and slammed his door shut.

But Ruby has been onhis case for weeks. He thought one date wouldn’t kill him. He’ll make politeconversation with the girl, walk her home and assure her she didn’t have tocall him back. He’ll get Lucas off his back and go back to enjoying his coffeeand scrambled eggs in peace.

And it’s not like heexpected her to set him up with some evil witch, he thinks he can still makefor some pleasant company, even if he is neither one-night stand, nor seriousrelationship material anymore. But this – Emma Swan. He could wring Ruby’s neckfor this.

He felt like thebiggest arse as she came up to him – keeping his hands in his pockets and noteven getting out of his chair, his face probably doing something less thanappealing when he saw her. But— bloodyhell. Why? Why on earth would Ruby torture him with a woman like that? Awoman who he will very much like to call him back. A woman that he not onlydidn’t have a shot with but who probably had a line of men, waiting for achance to spend an evening with her. And she was wasting it on him.

Her smile was a bittight, a bit untrusting from the start, and Killian… Killian just couldn’tbring himself to go through the motions of trying to charm a woman with whomhis failure was guaranteed. So he let her talk – about her frankly badass job,her love of Christmas lights and her dislike of tinsel and glitter, her favouriteTV shows and the first Game of Thrones book that has been gathering dust on hershelf for the last two months.

He snuck the occasionalglance at her but mostly kept his gaze focused on his glass of rum and hisright hand in his pocket so it wasn’t too obvious that his left one never cameout either. He was sure Lucas had told her but there was no reason to make thelass even more uncomfortable. And no reason to tempt himself by looking at heror engaging her in conversation when she was already proving too witty andcharming for his own good. Eventually her voice trailed off and she tried toask him some questions as well.

Killian orders a cupof tea and cringes at the memory of his monosyllabic replies to the beautifulwoman who at least tried to make their interaction seem like a date.

The bell above herjingles loudly and she quickly scans all the patrons in the diner. She is noteven a little surprised when she spots Killian Jones at the most secludedtable.

Maybe it’s partiallyto preserve some of her own dignity but Emma has managed to convince herselfthat Killian is simply not a people’s person. To a degree that skirts the linewith rudeness.

Again, she questionsthe wisdom of giving into her inexplicable desire to see the guy again. Perhapsit is the mystery that still clings to him. Emma hates leaving a case unsolvedand Killian really didn’t give her enough to figure out what kind of a personhe really is. He told her he was between jobs, said he had no family in townand not that many friends unless you counted Belle’s never-ending flow of bookrecommendations and Ruby’s never-ending attempts to get him “out there”. Emmatried not to cringe at the obvious bitterness in those two words. She is prettysure she failed.

She could have gottenangry – she felt her indignation rising on a couple of occasions when his lackof desire to be there with her became a bit too obvious – but the guy justlooked too damn unhappy for her to get properly mad at him. It genuinely seemedlike he had beef with the whole damn world – she just happened to be in it. Andas the evening wore on he seemed to get even more quiet – a feat that Emmawould’ve thought impossible – until he almost seemed unaware of her presence.It was then that she started wondering if he’d ordered more than the two drinksshe saw.

She was fullyconvinced he had when she finally decided to put them both out of their miseryand suggested they call it a night only to have his “sure, love” come out a bitslurred at the end and have him almost topple out of his chair.

Yup, somehow, he’dmanaged to get himself drunk without her noticing. Then the bartender handedher the check – Killian already on his way to the door and really, she didn’teven mind paying for the privilege of getting out of there and away from him –and she could confirm that she’d had two glasses of whiskey and he’d had justtwo glasses of rum. Seriously? Lightweight it was then.

From then on sheslapped the bills on the counter and ran after the guy to offer that they sharea cab, just so she wouldn’t have to feel guilty for the rest of her life, ifthey found him in a ditch somewhere after he had two freaking drinks with her. He was leaning against the wall, eyesclosed and little breaths coming out of his mouth as puffs of white. He shookhis head at her offer and she rolled her eyes – she wasn’t going to beg to seehim home.

And if that was that,maybe she wouldn’t be walking toward his table right now. But just as she wasturning to leave, Killian grabbed her hand and apologized. She still isn’t surewhat he apologized for – barelytalking to her, getting pissed, leaving her to foot the bill, blatantlyrejecting her?

But he was genuine.That one part, his “sorry about this, Swan” was more genuine than anything elsethat night.

So here she is.

She is just asgorgeous as he remembers – perhaps even more so in the soft light of the snowyday. He can now tell that she’d done her hair and make-up specifically for thatnight and he feels like something has lodged itself in his throat.

Wanker.

This woman – anabsolutely stunning woman that for some reason is trying to give him somethingresembling a smile right now – prepared for a date with him and he repaid herby being an absolute wanker.

Then again, this isnot the first time he is realizing this. About an hour into their date (he usesthe term very loosely) he decided that he should give himself a slap over thehead and at least attempt to behave like the gentleman he used to claim he was.But by then it was too late.

Killian tried toformulate some kind of an engaging question, to recall some fun story with Rubyand Belle but he found his mind in complete disarray. He looked down at hishalf-empty glass, wondering how the hell he could’ve gotten drunk on a coupleof glasses. And then he remembered the pills.

“Hey.”

He looks at her for afew seconds without blinking and Emma is already cursing herself for her poordecision making.

Seriously though, whatthe actual fuck? She doesn’t give most guys even a first chance, why on earthis she giving this idiot a second one?

A little voice in herhead tells her in has something to do with how blue and sad his eyes are andhow his full lips are a bit chapped from the cold and his cheeks a little pink,but Emma likes to think that she is not that shallow. It’s part of the reason,sure, but—

Thankfully, Killianseems to shake himself out of his thoughts and jumps to his feet. He evenextends his hand. She takes it and watches him debate with himself for a moment– his thumb doing two sweeps over her chilled skin – before he shakes it andlets it go.

She is notdisappointed – this is already going better than last time. He hasn’t lookedaway from her yet. Actually, he is staring at her pretty hard. It makes herlook away first, nodding toward the table he was sitting at.

“Right. Please,” hewaves in a sort of invitation and Emma slips into the booth.

Killian remainsstanding for a few seconds before he joins her. His hand wraps around the cupof tea on the table and Emma looks around for a waitress – she’d like a cup shecan fidget with and hide behind as well.

There is no waitressin sight – she should tell Granny her staff is slacking off. The silence hascontinued long enough to be awkward now. Why did she do this to them again?

“Emma.”

She startles at thesound of her name coming from him – badly enough that Killian looks genuinelyalarmed, then confused, then worried. She is pretty sure he is starting toquestion if he remembered her name right.

“Um, yeah?”

He sighs in relief.Yup, definitely questioning.

“Look, can I just— Ihave no idea why you decided to text me.”

The good thing aboutwinter is that your cheeks have an excuse for being pink at all times. She’lltake it.

“But I’m glad you didbecause I really wanted to apologize for last week.”

“You—“ she starts tosay that he doesn’t have to but, well, he kinda does have to. “It was a prettyshit date.”

He chuckles without alick of humour in the sound and Emma’s eyes widen a little when she realizesshe said that out loud but she schools her expression back into mild interestin his apology before he looks up at her from under his lashes.

Shit, he looks reallyapologetic.

“I know. I haveresigned myself to being your “worst date” story.”

It’s her time tochuckle and there is quite a bit of humour in it.

“Please, don’t flatteryourself.”

Killian’s eyebrowjumps in surprise and her smile is really more teasing than mocking.

“It was pretty bad butnot my worst by far.”

His other eyebrowjoins its partner high on his forehead and he leans forward in an unconscious showof interest the kind of which she has learnt to read in people, the kind he didnot display even once on their first date.

Wait, is this theirsecond date? Did she actually ask him on a second date?

“Well, I know I haveno right to it but I just have to hear this story. If you’ll be so kind.”

She contemplates himfor a moment, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed and she knows her look isprobably making him sweat a little under his layers. Good.

He knew Emma Swan wasinteresting – a woman has to be to singlehandedly carry out 90% of theconversation during an almost-2-hour date – he did not know she can bepositively hilarious.

The story of her datewith some guy named Walsh makes him clench his fist and grit his teeth morethan once at the nerve of that man but the way Emma tells it makes itimpossible for him not to laugh out loud. The image of her giving the bastard ablack eye also aids his merriment.

He admits that hedoesn’t have many dating horror stories to repay her with.

“Is that cuz I was yourworst?” she asks suspiciously, narrowing her pretty eyes at him once more.

His ears feel likethey are on fire.

“No, I… well, I’veactually avoided labelling… last time as a date, in my head at least.”

Her brows furrow inconfusion and he wants to apologize again but he can’t really do that without eitherwaxing poetic about her beauty and patience or spiraling into his tragic littlestory.

“But I can mostcertainly regale you with the tale of my most embarrassing date.”

Emma’s look tells himthat she knows exactly what he is doing but she is intrigued enough to let itslide. So she takes her hot cocoa, leans back in her booth and waves her handfor him to proceed. She looks positively regal and he hides his desire to bowand call her “your Highness” behind a rakish grin.

He tells her about hisfifth date with Tink and makes sure to emphasize the amount of glitter the girlhad been covered in, remembering Emma’s dislike for the stuff. He is rewardedwith the adorable scrunch of her nose. He recalls how Liam came home early andhe was so proud of himself for managing to pull Tink’s dress down and get offhis knees in time.

“So he didn’t catchyou? How is that your most embarrassing story?”

“Aye, he didn’t reallyand I was damn proud of myself, acting all cool and nonchalant, all the whilewondering why Liam’s face was getting redder by the second. He managed torestrain himself for ten seconds before he was bent over, hands braced on hisknees, laughing his sodding ass off. I was so bloody confused.”

“So he knew?”

“’Course he bloodyknew! I had glitter all over my face!”

Emma sits there for asolid ten seconds as well – her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open a littlebit before she bursts into laughter.

“What? How—“ she triesto take a breath but then dissolves into another fit of giggles.

Honestly, he is soproud of himself – this is the least he has ever minded telling this story.

“She had glitter down there?”

“Darling, she hadglitter everywhere. Something about asparkling body lotion. Hell if I know. I told her that can’t be good for herbut I don’t think I was very credible, seeing as my face was bright red and covered in glitter and I couldn’tget my brother to stop laughing at me.”

Her sides hurt alittle bit but Emma thinks it’s totally worth it. Killian seems rather pleasedwith himself for someone who just revealed that he got caught going down on afreaky fairy or something. Seriously, glitter was the worst, why would you wantit—

She shudders.

“Can I tell him aboutour date and how you were taken down by two glasses of rum then?”

She means it as ajoke, she really does. She is not that upsetabout that, she knows how easily alcohol can get the better of you – you’re abit tired, you’re a bit hungry and before you know it you’re drunk on twobeers. It’s happened to her, she is not—

But Killian’s faceliterally crumbles and she doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.

“I’m afraid that will be quite the feat.Unless you have the ability to communicate with the departed.”

What now?

“The depa— oh!”

Fuck.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I—“

“I’m alright, lass. Noway you could’ve known. Doesn’t really follow the rules of logic. He was barely30.”

She swallows. Herthroat is just a little raw from laughing so much. She feels horrible about it.Yet, she kind of appreciates it – that he told her a story about his late brother.

“And, umm, just so wecan… clear the air. I was going to explain earlier as well but…”

Killian is back tolooking uncomfortable and contrite and she doesn’t really care for it, she justwants to tell him that it’s fine, that everybody has off days and—

“I wasn’t drunk. It’sjust… the cold months give me a bit of trouble. With the… the hand. The pain.And I’d got those new pain meds the day before and I completely forgot that Iwasn’t supposed to mix those with alcohol and… yeah. You know the rest.”

He is not looking ather at all anymore and it makes her feel even more lost in this conversationwhen she can’t read things in his eyes. Now that she has spent some timeactually looking at them, she has a clue why he didn’t look at her much lasttime – Killian Jones wears his heart in his eyes.

And now he onlychances a glance at her. He looks self-conscious and she hasn’t got a clue whathe is talking about.

“I’m sorry, what? Whywere you on pain meds? What did you do to your hand?”

All other emotionsdepart Killian’s face to make room for his utter confusion.

“Lucas didn’t tellyou?”

“Tell me what?”

“Bloody hell,” hemutters under his breath and for a second she thinks he looks angry but whetherit’s at her or himself or Ruby she has absolutely no idea.

“Killian—“

He cuts her off with ashake of his head and takes a deep breath before he puts his hands on thetable.

It takes her a moment.

Oh.

“Oh.”

His right hand is onthe table, his left one however ends at his wrist and all she can see in hissleeve is the shirt tucked around the end of his forearm.

“I’m sorry. I reallythought you knew.”

“No, I—“ she looks upand he seems so damn guilty – why on earth would he feel guilty? “Killian, it’sfine, you don’t have to apologize.”

She reaches for hisright hand and he instinctively pulls the left one back. It makes her hesitatefor a moment but she leaves her hand where it rests lightly over his own.

“This isn’t somethingyou – or Ruby – needed to warn me about.”

His snort ishumourless and dismissive and makes her a little angry. She hasn’t been angryat him today but it almost feels like familiar territory.

“Sure it is.”

“Umm, it’s really not.Do you usually ask for your dates’ medical records before you go out with themfor the first time?”

“It’s not like I havediabetes, Swan, I’m missing a limb.”

“Right. And I reallydon’t want to diminish your pain but I’m pretty sure you can die from diabetesso…”

“Aye, but it’s not…”

He gestures aroundwith his left forearm, seemingly at a loss for words and she arches an eyebrow,daring him to say something stupid. He rolls his eyes at her and sighs.

“Well, at the veryleast, it might’ve prepared you for a situation where your date is a moron who mixed up his pain meds.”

“Are you calling me amoron?”

“No, I—what? Love, Iwas obviously referring to myself.”

“Bold of you to assumethat I’ve never mixed painkillers with alcohol, Jones.”

He chuckles butquickly tries to adopt a stern expression that makes her grin in turn.

“Do I want to hearthat story? I should warn you that is a very dangerous practice and—“

“Well, I did do it athome. And kind of by accident. I mean really, I think my insides were trying tokill me, I didn’t even remember I’d taken some painkillers.”

He frowns at her andshe just waves him off.

“Wanna order somefood?”

They order pancakesand a mountain of scrambled eggs and Killian’s never had a preference about howmuch women eat one way or the other but the way Emma cuts into the pancakesbefore she has even swallowed her mouthful of eggs pulls insistently at thecorners of his mouth.

Then she goes and cutsthe whole stack in four and he feels his heart squeeze almost painfully. Itmight just be the way she does it – though the quick look she steals at himtells another story – he doesn’t know, but he is thankful that he wouldn’t haveto awkwardly break the food with his fork all the same.

Emma is in the middleof telling him about a particularly stupid slip she had to chase a couple ofmonths ago when Granny comes out of the back – flushed and agitated.

“OK, folks, nothing toworry about, we’re just locking the doors for safety reasons. If you want toleave – which I really don’t advise you to do but it’s your life and toes afterall – just come up to the counter and Ella here will give you the key.”

“Wait, what?”

Emma looks around andthey realize two things at the same time – there are only a couple of peoplebeside them left in the diner and the outside world is nothing but a wall ofwhiteness now.

“Whoa!”

“Was this in the forecast?”he gets up and wipes at the window – nothing, just more blinding whiteness.

“I don’t believe inthat so.”

He turns back to her –amusement probably painted all over his face.

“You don’t believe itweather forecasts?”

“Nope,” Emma plopsdown in her seat and takes another bite of pancakes dripping with maple syrup,calm as can been.

“If you don’t mind mesaying, you don’t seem particularly bothered to be snowed in here for theforeseeable future, lass?”

She shrugs and wipesher mouth with the back of her hand – then she looks up at him as if he caughther committing a horrendous crime and reaches for a napkin. He swallows hischuckle, sure that she will take it the wrong way.

“I mean, I don’t haveanything to do. It’s warm, there’s food, you seem to improve on the secondviewing.”

“High praise.”

She rolls her eyes andnudges the last of the eggs toward him but he just shakes his head.

“I think I’ll go getsome coffee since we’ll be stuck here for a while. You want anything?”

“Mmm, coffee soundsgood. You sure you don’t want any more of this?”

“All yours, Swan.”

He goes to the counterand orders two large cups of coffee and pretends he doesn’t see the wink Grannythrows his way before she disappears into her kitchen.

Yes, he likes to thinkthis is going much better than last time, perhaps so well that after they getout of this snow trap he might be able to call Emma Swan a friend. But he istrying really hard not to think too much about all the other things that hewould like to call her – in low tones that do not belong in a diner or anypublic place really.

Ella deposits the twomugs in front of him with a smile and he thanks her, taking one and bringing itto Emma before he returns for his own. The timing – as it usually is in hislife – is bloody terrible and the pain shoots up his left arm just as his rightone picks up the red mug.

The noise of porcelainhitting the tiled floor is deafening in the quiet diner and Emma’s head whipsaround just in time to see Killian step back from the black puddle on the floorand squeeze his eyes tightly shut, his hand clamped around his left arm.

“Killian?”

She jumps out of thebooth and steps right through the mess on the floor. Ella is already comingtoward them with a mop in hand so Emma just takes Killian by the arm and slowlyguides him back to their booth. His jaw is clenched so tight it must hurt butthe way his nails are digging into his sweater makes her think that he hasbigger issues than that.

“Hey, Killian? What’sgoing on? Are you in pain?”

“It’ll pass,” he gritsout and that’s really not what she asked.

“Can we make it passfaster?”

He shakes his head andfinally opens his eyes. She almost wishes he didn’t – if she had any doubtabout how much pain he is in, it’s gone now.

“I-it’s fine, lass.Just need a… a sec.”

He swallows, his Adamapple going up and down with effort.

“Do you have yourpills?”

Another shake.

“OK, we should leave.”

She makes to get upfrom where she is kneeling beside him and ask Ella for the keys when Killian’shand falls on her arm.

“Don’t. It’ll passsoon.”

She frowns at him.

“Are you sure? Howabout regular painkillers? Somebody must have something?”

She glances back atthe counter – Granny has come out of the kitchen, looking at them with obviousconcern and trying to figure out how to help, and Ella seems terriblyuncomfortable and a bit upset. Emma feels something possessive and kindaviolent gather at the pit of her stomach and she just wants them to stopstaring. Killian must hate people staring. She hopes she is not glaring toohard.

But when she turnsaround he isn’t looking at the women behind the counter, he’s looking at her,and it’s then that she realizes his hand has slid down and is now holding hers.

For the most part, hewould really prefer to erase the last five minutes or at least to have spentthem in the privacy of Granny’s bathroom. Or better yet, he would prefer tohave taken his bloody meds today. But he can’t deny that some small part ofhim, that is threatening to grow by the second, has latched onto the way Emmalooks with concern – for him no less– in her eyes, the set of her shoulders when she is ready to take control ofthe situation and her fingers – warm and firm as she squeezes his hand back.

“I’m fine, love. Thankyou,” he lets himself infuse the words with all the emotion inside him rightnow.

“You know if the coldmakes it worse, you really should’ve said no to coming here.”

“And let you go onbelieving that two rums put me out of commission?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Priorities,” shemutters with some ill-concealed amusement. “Let me get you another coffee.”

“That’s al—”

But she is alreadygetting up and waving at Ella for another cup of coffee so he returns his focusto his damn arm. The pain is duller now, not the blinding shock that made himdrop his blasted mug. Fuck, the mug.

Killian gets up anddigs his wallet out of his pocket before he approaches the bar, rotating hisleft shoulder carefully.

“Let me pay you forthe mug, lass.”

“Oh,” Ella looks athim with eyes as wide as saucers and then glances at Emma uncertainly, almostas if asking permission – he would be amused, if he didn’t find it so weird.“That’s not ne—”

“I insist. Just add itto our bill and give me the check.”

It’s as he is takingthe bills out of his wallet that it hits him.

“Bloody hell!”

She was just reachingfor his second cup of coffee when his voice startles her and her hand landsflat on the counter instead. She swears Killian is just not meant to have anycoffee today. Or they are meant to break all of Granny’s mugs.

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes quickly zeroin on his hands and then jump up to his face. But Killian doesn’t seem to be inpain, he just looks like she just slapped him across the face.

“What? What did I do?”

“Emma—” it comes outall low and gruff and she is pretty sure he doesn’t intend for the word to havethe effect that it does on her. “Emma, did I leave without paying last time?”

“Oh,” her whole bodyloosens and she signs in relief before she grabs his mug and makes her way backto their booth. “Yeah, you were pretty out of it.”

“Bloody buggeringfuck.”

He follows after her,his hand working restlessly through his hair before he reaches for the mug.

“That’s pretty hot.”

He huffs indispleasure but leaves the coffee on the table and drops back in his seat,grimacing a bit and reaching over to rub at his arm again.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine. Let’s getback to something more important. I saddled you with the bloody check last time—”

“How on earth is thatmore important?!”

“—and you called meagain?!”

She was about to gointo some basic self-preservation lessons and the value of health and comfortover splitting the fucking check but that part effectively shuts her up.

Logically, Emma knewthat he might question why she texted him again after what she herself dubbed “apretty shitty date” but… well, she was hoping he might get around to it afteranother couple of dates.

“I guess,” she shrugs.

Good one. Veryeloquent.

“Swan, you—” he shakeshis head and runs his hand throw his hair a few more times, tugging on thelittle earring in his ear – which does not make her smile, absolutely not – andhuffs a few more times before he fixes her with a disbelieving stare. “Youcalled a guy who said a dozen words to you all evening, got drunk – to your knowledge,and left you to foot the bloody check?!”

“Well, technically, Ididn’t call. I texted. And I don’t know… there was a small chance that you werejust being very feminist about it.”

If his eyebrow gotboosted by any more disbelief, it would probably fly off his forehead.

“What? Are you tryingto say you’re not?”

“I assure you, I’mfully capable of reconciling the feminist and the gentleman inside me and noneof them approve of leaving a lady to pay for everything after she has been putthrough a most unpleasant ordeal.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Jesus. You make itsound like you made me undergo a medical procedure.”

“Swan, I think we needto talk about your choices.”

“Oh, for the love of—Get off your high horse, you’re not that special.”

“Never said or thoughtI was, I’m just genuinely worried about your forgiving nature.”

She snorts.

“Yeah, trust me, not athing you should be worried about, seeing as it doesn’t even exist.”

“And yet here I am,proof of the exact opposite.”

She leans back andstudies him carefully, trying to decide if he is in any way flattering himself.He doesn’t seem to be and, from what she has seen today, Emma really doesn’tthink Killian Jones is all that full of himself actually.

“You are a fluke, ok?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t mean it like…in a bad away,” she looks down at her hands, his eyes suddenly a bit toocurious and unguarded. “But I don’t usually give people chances and I don’tusually do… this.”

She waves her handover the table between them. Yes, eloquent indeed.

Killian doesn’t reallyknow what to say to that. He tries really hard not to read between lines thatare probably not there.

“You don’t get snowedin diners with strangers you had a horrible date with?”

She rolls her eyes athim. He thinks he is beginning to like it when she does that. Bad form probablybut he can’t really help it.

“I don’t date,” shesays simply and the shock must be written all over his face because she shrugsher shoulders and looks away in the next second. “What? It’s why Ruby set usup, isn’t it?”

“Oh.”

Now it makes somesense. Well, not a lot, he still thinks Lucas should’ve been able to tell that,even if she is pretty rusty, Emma can do far better than him. Maybe a couple ofyears ago but even then, he’s not sure. He feels like one has to have somethingspecial indeed to make it with Emma Swan. As it should be.

“What?”

“What?”

“What did you mean by“oh”? Isn’t that what you thought as well?”

Well…

“Well, no. I-Iactually thought we were quite badly matched when we met.”

“Oh.”

Her “oh” is not one ofrealization though, he doesn’t even need to be paying that close attention tosense the undercurrent of disappointment and rejection.

How on earth can he reject her?

“Emma, I don’t mean—”

“No, that’s… umm,that’s ok. I kinda got that last time as well, I don’t know why I thought— Weshould— Do you think we can go now?”

She should get up. Sheshould just get up and leave. But she really doesn’t want to look like evenmore of an idiot when she tries to walk out of the door and is just met with a wallof snow and forced to go back in with her tail tucked between her legs and sitat a table in the opposite end of the diner because—

Why did she thinkthings were going better this time around?

“No. Swan, will youplease hear me out?”

“Killian, it’s fine.You’re not obligated to like me just because Ruby set us up. Really this is…this is on me, I should’ve gotten the message—”

“There was nomessage!”

She looks up sharply.Really, he doesn’t need to take a tone withher while rejecting her.

“Really? Then you havea very strange way of expressing your interest in people!”

He slums back againstthe seat, his shoulders and head dropping a little as he rubs at the back ofhis neck and then down his arm and she’s kinda angry that she is still kindaworried that he is still in pain.

“I know, I… I’m sorry.Again. For… that whole evening. But I just…” he takes a deep, fortifying breathand looks her straight in the eye and Emma has just a moment to assimilate thefact that he looks like he is about to drop something heavy before hecontinues. “My ex-girlfriend left after I lost my hand and my job.”

The fuck?! What kindof—

“And she didn’t botherbeing too nice about it. And I really didn’t need her to help me re-adjust myworld view but, anyway,” he waves his hand through the air as if that’s allpast and done and unimportant now and she really wants to disagree. “When Lucassaid she wanted to set me up with a friend of hers I really didn’t expect…”

He waves at her thistime and she is a little frustrated with a whole lot of things.

“What? What’s thematter with me?!”

“Nothing! That’s thebloody point!”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean…Bloody hell, Swan, surely you’re aware that you’re absolutely stunning.”

Well, she wouldn’t goas far as—

“Positively hilarious,enticingly confident and a tad intimidating.”

Her mouth hangsslightly open and Killian thinks thisis now the most embarrassing date of his life because he didn’t really mean todo… that.

“I… don’t think I’veever heard a human use the phrase “enticingly confident” before.”

He cringes.

“Yeah, well… it’s beenin my head for a while.”

“I- I think I’mflattered?”

He chuckles and looksanywhere but at her as he searches for a way to change the bloody subject. Theblasted snow is still falling.

“Aye, well, feel freeto add it to your dating CV.”

Cue awkward laugher.Take a sip of coffee to cover it up. Do not look the stunning woman in questionin the eyes.

“Wait, so you what?Decided I was out of your league or something?”

He shrugs and nods anddoes not look at her.

“Really?”

Her voice is somewherebetween disbelieving and giddy and genuinely sounds like he told her he isgoing to adopt a panda bear or something equally ridiculous. He gives her adirty look.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

She does an admirableeffort of tampering down her smile but it just breaks out again and he almostcan’t be mad at her.

“I just… you knowthat’s really stupid, right? And like, I have a ton of baggage.”

“Swan,” he sighs andtries to give her a smile as well but he really just wants this pointlessdiscussion to be over. “Everybody has baggage.”

“No, I mean like,serious baggage like…” she chews on her bottom lip for a second, obviouslycontemplating whether or not she should tell him this – whatever this is – and he is about to assure herthat she doesn’t have to when she powers on. “Foster care record and criminalrecord and lots of abandonment kinda baggage.”

He frowns andcontemplates, if he should reach over or say he is sorry or—

“But that’s… like,really besides the point. I mean, I know fuck all about dating andrelationships, but I’m pretty sure it’s not about completing a checklist ofthings that the other person should or shouldn’t have.”

“Aye, of course, but—”

“Like, the sum of allthat shit is probably what makes a person who they are but they’re not just…their childhood or their master’s degree or their crappy apartment or theirhorrifying dating history.”

His laughter is moregenuine now and he finds it easier to smile at her.

“You just either likea person or you don’t,” Emma nods, as if she is quite happy with the conclusionshe has reached and he can’t quite argue with her.

It just raises a veryobvious question that he finds he actually has the nerve to ask.

“And you decided youlike me?”

She doesn’t even stopto think about the consequences, she just rolls her eyes at him and answers inher best deadpan voice.

“No, I asked you outagain because of your excellent conversation skills and impressiveconstitution.”

She almost laughs atthe way his face is trying to reconcile the awe and indignation that seem to bebattling for dominance inside him.

“Honestly, I just feltlike I didn’t get the chance to figure you out. And I wanted another try.”

“And?”

“Well, I think you’rea bit too complex to figure out on two dates but I now know that you’ll let mehave the last bite of eggs, do not actually get smashed from two glasses of rumand will go down on a girl on the fifth date.”

The way his eyesalmost pop out of his head is exactly the reaction she was hoping for so Emmaleans back and brings her mug to her mouth with a satisfied grin before shedelivers her closing argument.

“So I really think weshould have at least three more dates.”

(She has to go chase askip in the middle of their fifth date and Emma is not ashamed to admit thatshe has never slammed a guy against the hood of her car with that much pent-upfrustration.

Killian has the nerveto say it’s a good thing they got interrupted or he never would’ve gotten asixth date – which is beyond ridiculous, seeing as they’ve already madeChristmas and New Year plans together – but Emma exercises levels of restraintshe did not know she possessed and makes him wait until the seventh date justto prove him wrong.)

#cs ff #cs au #cs christmas #xmas challenge #captain swan fanfiction

[jojo-lity]

Headcanons for narancia, fugo, and mista and a female crush that’s good at cooking and sometimes offers to feed them?

the part 5 requests are really rolling in! i can’t blame any of you, it’s my favourite too

narancia:

- narancia’s not particularly good at hiding his feelings, but because he’s already so affectionate with platonic friends, he can get very close to a crush without her catching on to exactly how he feels. he intends to tell her eventually, he’s just not sure what to say yet.

- when he’s not busy, he likes to spend time with her, usually content with tagging along to whatever she wants to do. still, there’s the potential that he’ll get distracted by something, and they’ll end up doing something completely different than what was planned. they always have fun.

- when narancia finds out his crush is good at cooking, it’s like he falls in love all over again. he’s always wanted to learn how to cook, but didn’t have anyone with the time and knowledge to teach him.

- whether she teaches him or not, he’ll still suddenly have a whole lot more reasons to spend time with her. he’s known to love food almost to the point of being obsessed with it, and that goes double if it was made with love and care. he tends to make suggestions about changes to recipes, some are bordering on nonsensical, while others make a lot of sense and can turn out really well.

- he’ll probably agree to being fed now and then, as long as no one else knows about it. he hopes that one day he’ll be able to make something he can feed to her, just as kindly and gently.

fugo:

- fugo doesn’t think of himself as being romantically lucky. he joined passione at a young age, so he probably has very little (if any) experience, and just doesn’t really know how to act around a crush. it would probably be easiest to just avoid her, but he eventually manages to convince himself not to do that.

- he tries to treat her like he would any other friend, though with less sniping and roughhousing (unless she’s the type who enjoys that). he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost his temper at her even once, so he finds ways to calm down if he feels himself getting even the slightest bit irritated.

- watching her cook is something that relaxes him. he likes all the measuring and steps that follow each other logically, and getting to see the talent of someone he admires a lot is a great way to spend his time.

- he doesn’t really like the idea of being fed. he’s used to being treated like an adult, so it’s easy for him to take any attempted pampering as an insult to his maturity. he still wants to try the food, of course, so he just serves himself. it feels like an effective compromise.

- afterwards, he usually offers to help out with any cleaning up that has to be done. it’s only polite.

mista:

- mista’s not really the kind to hesitate when it comes to crushes, and feelings like that. he isn’t afraid of rejection, but if he’s taking his time to confess his feelings to someone, that means they’re worth the absolute best he can come up with.

- he probably still flirts with his crush a lot, and makes all kinds of excuses to spend time with her, but he can easily brush it off as “just how he is”.

- romantic feelings or not, he’s definitely going to spend a lot of time around someone who’s good at cooking. he’s always hungry, and the pistols are hungrier, but he tries not to be greedy, since he knows cooking can be hard work.

- he likes having tiny impromptu picnics. it doesn’t matter where, when, or what’s available to eat- after all, just having his crush there means he’s guaranteed to enjoy it.

- if she offers to feed him, he’ll decline at first. it doesn’t sound very dignified. but it does sound romantic, in the cheesy and cute way. he knows he’s just setting himself up to get even more feelings, but he eventually gives in. when he tastes the bite of food offered to him (one of his favourites), and sees how happy she looks to be able to give it to him, it’s all he can do to not confess everything right then and there. it’s like a beautiful dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. 

#narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #guido mista #headcanons #sfw #she her pronouns #golden wind

[frauleinsmaria]

Chance Encounters

Based on the prompt “I don’t know who you are but we keep running into each other on the street and getting into screaming arguments over the stupidest things and I’m actually looking forward to our next meeting bc you’re annoying as hell but damn you’re hot and it’s kind of fun to argue with you”

Written for my match for the Captain Swan Spring Fic Formal. Surprise @welllpthisishappening! Laura, I’ve had so much fun interacting with you over the past few weeks- although it’s been hard to make sure I didn’t reveal myself talking to you elsewhere 😂 You’re such a wonderful presence in this fandom and I’m so glad I got to be paired with you. I know you like both friends and enemies to lovers and lots of banter, so I hope you enjoy reading this lil fic as much as I enjoyed writing it <3 

Also thanks @distant-rose and @awkwardnessandbaseball for getting the @csficformal together! It’s been a blast

Also on AO3

It’s certainly not how he expects his Monday morning to start.

It shouldn’t surprise him though, considering the direction his day is already heading in from the moment he wakes up. A power outage in his apartment building the night before causes his alarm clock to reset, meaning he wakes up less than half an hour before he’s supposed to leave for work. He cuts himself shaving thanks to being in a hurry and hopes no one will notice the nick on his chin. He goes to make his regular cup of coffee after getting dressed and realizes he ran out of coffee beans over the weekend and forgot to buy more.

His last resort is leaving everything else he needs to do as is so he has time to stop by the coffee shop on his way to the office. Of course it’s not his biggest priority, but he’s already heard about the workload Regina has waiting for him today and knows he won’t be able to deal with it properly without some kind of caffeine.

Thankfully, the line this morning is short, and he’s able to order his drink and be on his way quickly. But it’s just his luck that his phone vibrates with a text from Liam as he’s turning to head out the door, and he’s reading it when he collides with a wall and spills coffee on the front of his white shirt.

“Damn it!”

Whoops, not a wall. A woman, and a very angry one at that, judging by the expression on her face and the similar coffee stain she now sports on her own grey blouse.

Killian shakes his head as the shock wears off and takes in the death stare he’s receiving from the blonde in front of him. She’s holding a drink in her hand as well, but most of it still seems to be in the cup rather than on their clothes like his. “I’m terribly sorry, love. I should have been paying more attention to what I was doing.”

“Yeah, you should have,” she snaps, pulling a napkin out of her purse and attempting to clean up the mess she’s wearing.

There’s a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, but he manages to hold back and tries to think of a way to be the bigger person here.

“Love, if there’s anything I can do-”

“The best thing you can do right now is to leave me alone so I can go before I’m later for work than I already am. And I’m not your love.”

Any desire he has to be polite is out the window as the the events of the morning all catch up to him. “With that attitude, I’m bloody glad you aren’t!”

“So am I!” She turns on her heel and leaves the coffee shop before he has a chance to say anything else.

By some stroke of luck, he’s able to make it through the day without any other mishaps.

But he can’t explain why the thought of the annoying blonde from the coffee shop stays in his mind long afterwards.

-/-

It’s Thursday afternoon when Killian runs into her again- not literally this time, thank goodness. He’s on his lunch break, headed to the gym near his office when he sees her leaving the building as he’s walking up. She glances in his direction briefly when she sees him, doing a bit of a double take as she realizes where they’ve seen each other before.

“Afternoon, love.”

She makes a sour face. “I thought we established that I’m not your love,” she reminds him, using her fingers to draw air quotes around the word.

“Sorry, lo- lass,” he corrects himself. “Just a habit I suppose.” He blames it on Liam; their mother made quite the effort to ensure the two of them both had adequate manners, and he’d enforced the same ideals on Killian long after she passed.

But it’s clear by her unwavering expression that she doesn’t buy it. “Whatever.” It’s not unlike her reaction a few days earlier when he’d tried to apologize for the coffee incident.

As much as he wants to ignore her and go about with his day, something keeps him there. He’d be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t at least partly attraction; he hadn’t paid much attention to her in the coffee shop thanks to the circumstances, but now he can’t seem to focus on much besides blonde hair, green eyes, and the black and white outfit she’s clearly just finished a workout in judging by the way it sticks with sweat to her thin frame.

And yet, while he’ll willingly admit to finding her attractive, there’s something else- maybe it’s the attitude she’s developed toward him, or her unwavering stubbornness, he doesn’t know- that keeps him from letting things alone like he normally would. “Do you always act like this when someone tries to apologize or be nice to you?”

Killian watches as her jaw sets and sees he’s struck a cord, although he can’t say whether or not it was unintentional. “Do you always butt into other people’s business?”

“Regardless, it seems yours isn’t worth my time.” She rolls her eyes and walks away from him for the second time.

His annoyance with her is just the motivation he needs for his workout, but like the time before, his thoughts stay occupied with the woman he knows nothing about, aside from the fact that she must be some kind of a force to be reckoned with.

He can’t decide whether she intrigues or irritates him more.

-/-

The next Tuesday is when Killian becomes convinced that the universe hates him.

He’s walking to work, sans coffee after finally replenishing his stock at home, when he catches a familiar glimpse of blonde hair coming out of a store as its owner taps away at her phone. He doesn’t try to get her attention; she’s not exactly his biggest fan as it is, and bothering her for no reason certainly won’t change that.

It doesn’t matter how honorable his intentions are, though, since she notices him when she glances over her shoulder not a moment later. She stops in her tracks and he hears her groan as he’s walking up.

“Are you following me or something? Because I have a gun and-”

Killian holds a hand up to stop her. “Not to worry, lass.” (He’s remembered what not to call her this time.) “Believe it or not, it seems that you and I are yet again the victims of mere coincidence.”

“Seriously? Who talks like that?”

“A person who’s about as thrilled with our recent pattern of encounters as you are.”

“I’m not making you walk beside me to chat, you know! I think you and I both have better things to do.”

“Finally something we can agree on. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He wastes no time leaving her behind and getting to work just as fast as he can. He’s annoyed yet again, something he’s convinced will be a common theme whenever he runs into her. But, bloody hell, he still can’t answer the question as to how and why she’s managed to get both under his skin and stuck in his mind so easily.

-/-

Killian goes a week without running into her after their last encounter on the street. He feels relieved considering how things between them are all but guaranteed them to go- or, at least, he thinks he does. It’s Liam that brings it to his attention when they’re at The Rabbit Hole sharing a drink after work.

“Looking for someone, are you?” his brother asks, seeing Killian’s eyes go to the bar’s entrance when the bell above the door chimes. A group of women arrive together, but he quickly loses interest in the redheads and brunettes.

He shakes his head as he takes a drink. “No. What makes you ask?”

Liam doesn’t look convinced. “Every time we’ve been out over the past few weeks, you seem to be waiting for someone else to show up. Not only that, but you’ve been examining every blonde within a mile’s radius, and I’d like to know just why.”

“You’re not going to leave me alone about this, are you?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Alright then.” Killian pauses as he tries to figure out how to explain his recent series of meetings to his brother. “To make a long story shorter: there’s this woman-”

“I knew it,” Liam mutters under his breath.

“There’s this woman,” he continues, ignoring him. “I haven’t the slightest idea who she is, but we keep running into each other and always end up having some petty argument before we part ways, only to see each other a few days later and do the same thing all over again.”

“Huh. And just what exactly are you and this lass always arguing over?”

“That’s just it; it’s usually just mindless bickering because I seem to annoy her as much as she does me.”

“Is she pretty?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just a question.”

Killian rolls his eyes, but mutters, “Aye. Very much so.”

A moment of silence passes as Liam taps at the side of his glass and processes everything Killian’s just told him. “Well, I wish I could think of something to say to help you out, but all I’ve got is that you’re making this situation much more difficult than it needs to be.”

“How?! It's not like I'm intentionally trying to run into her.”

“No, but it doesn't sound as if you're trying to avoid her, either,” Liam argues. “Just admit it, Killian: you like her.”

“I don't bloody know her well enough to like her!”

“Maybe you should get to know her then. What’s that saying, opposites attract? She could end up surprising you.”

Killian wants nothing more than to argue with his brother and insist his suggestion is ridiculous. But as much as it pains him to admit it, he's up for having another run in with her just to see if there’s a way to make it out without yelling or sarcastic remarks. He doesn't tell Liam all of this, only says, “Maybe I’ll think about it. Maybe.”

He can already tell from the smug look on Liam’s face that he's going to get an I told you so if things turn out in his favor.

-/-

It's only three days later when he thinks maybe the universe doesn't hate him after all.

He's only been at work for a little over an hour, things going relatively well for a Friday morning, when there's a knock on his office doo. He looks up from his seat behind the desk to see his boss in the doorway.

“Regina, something I can do?”

To Killian’s surprise, the brunette actually smiles at him. He can't tell if it's genuine or not, but it's a smile just the same. Those can be far and few between where Regina Mills is concerned.

“Yes. But first, there's someone I'd like for you to meet.” She steps to the side and Killian has to bite his tongue to keep from cursing. “This is Emma Swan. Miss Swan, this is Killian Jones, one of our top family law attorneys.”

Her eyes widen as she recognizes him, but she doesn't say anything other than a quick, “Nice to meet you” and shakes his hand when he stands and offers it to her.

“Killian, Miss Swan is here for Humbert’s Bail Bonds. She’s looking for some information regarding the Lewis case from a few weeks ago; I figured you would be the one she needed to see.”

She's not wrong, the file he'd used to hold the casework from a messy child support ordeal is still in the top drawer of his desk where he'd left it once the trial was over. “Yes, I'm sure I can help with whatever's necessary.”

“Good to know,” Regina answers. “I'm due for a meeting downstairs, so I'll leave you to it.” The blonde- Emma- thanks her as she walks away, leaving the two of them alone in his office.

“So, the Lewis case, eh? I hope that's an incident I don't have to repeat any time soon,” he says, going through the desk drawer and pulling out the file she needs. He gestures for her to sit down as she takes it from him.

“Yeah. I'm the one who tracked the husband down, and my boss apparently needs the rest of the case information to turn over to his boss for one reason or another.” Her eyes scan over the words on the pages before she pulls a small notebook out of her purse and begins to scribble notes on a blank page.

Killian waits for her to say something about their past meetings; some kind of sarcastic remark, at least. But to his surprise, her focus stays on her work for the ten or fifteen minutes she's there, occasionally asking a question or two about his work or making a comment about the weather. Either she wants to avoid a confrontation, or she actually doesn't recognize him. The second option seems unlikely, but still believable.

Emma hands him back the Lewis file once she's collected all the information she needs. “I appreciate your help.”

“It was my pleasure,” he answers, for once remembering not to refer to her as love.

“Oh, and Mr. Jones?” She stops at the door. “It was...surprisingly nice to have a conversation with you without any yelling.”

She's out the door and gone before the “bloody hell” has a chance to leave his lips.

-/-

It doesn’t take long for Killian to think that maybe the universe does in fact hate him after all, because having a name to go with the face only makes it that much harder to get Emma Swan out of his head.

They’re still all but strangers- knowing the other’s name and workplace doesn’t exactly count as having an acquaintance- but he had to admit that he could accept the idea of that changing. Seeing they were capable of having a pleasant conversation has him believing that it’s possible, if only barely so. He toys around with the idea of somehow trying to get more information about her from Regina, but that could likely end with both women angry at him, his boss for using her influence the wrong way and Emma for going out of his way to get to know her.

Things soon take another turn and make him wonder just what kind of ridiculous dream he's stuck in.

Liam talks him into going to his girlfriend’s sister’s birthday party the next Friday night. He doesn't want to go- socializing with a crowd of mostly strangers isn’t something he goes out of his way to do- but he likes Elsa, and Anna seemed like a nice girl from the few times they've met, so he agrees. He and Liam show up at Elsa’s apartment precisely at seven, a bottle of wine tucked under his brother’s arm.

It should be no surprise that Emma’s is the first face he sees after Elsa lets them in.

She’s standing in the hall talking to a brunette with a pixie cut, laughing at something the other woman has said when she notices him and pauses. They’ve gotten so good at this now that she doesn’t have to wonder who he is or where she’s seen him anymore, especially thanks to her office visit. Speaking to her hasn’t always been the greatest idea, but he’s not about to waste the chance if she is indeed warming up to him. He tells Liam he’s going to speak to someone, but she’s standing right in front of him when he turns back around.

“Jones?”

“Yes, it seems we meet again.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked you first.” He catches a glimpse of her quizzical expression as she takes a sip from the beer bottle she’s holding.

“Elsa is my brother’s girlfriend.”

“You’re Liam’s brother?!”

“You know him, too?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s tried to give me your number more than once.”

“Oh, bloody hell.” He glances over his shoulder at Liam who’s trying- and failing- to pretend he hasn’t been watching them. To think he’d already talked to his brother about her at the bar that night and he’d already known who she was.

“Yeah. But I don’t like it when my family and friends try to set me up with other people, so I thought I’d be nice and return, er, I guess not return the favor.” He can tell she was trying to save him from an unpleasant experience she’s likely had in the past, but it might be her way of letting him know she wouldn’t be interested regardless. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t deflate his confidence a bit. “Er, so how do you know Elsa and Anna?”

“They’re friends with my sister-in-law,” she answers, nodding her head towards the woman she’d been standing with earlier, who smiles when she sees them looking her way.

“Ah. It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Smaller than I thought.”

Killian chooses his next words carefully. “I would offer to get you a drink, but it seems that’s unnecessary,” he gestures to the one she already has.

“Maybe so, but rumor has it Elsa’s got pizza in the kitchen, and I haven’t had dinner yet.” Emma raises an eyebrow, indicating this is his chance and he’d better take advantage of it now.

“Give me five minutes.”

“I like pepperoni!”

-/-

“How long are you giving Liam to finally pop the question?”

“Honestly, love? I’m quite surprised he hasn’t already. Perhaps he’s worried Elsa won’t say yes.”

“Are you kidding? Look at her; she’s as much of a lovesick puppy as he is.”

Killian follows her eyes to where the couple stands outside together on the balcony, completely oblivious to everyone else around them. “Aye. They seem to be quite the good match for each other.”

“They remind me of David and Mary Margaret in that way; I couldn't have picked anyone more suited for either of them.” He senses a bit of disappointment in her words, but she doesn’t elaborate on the subject, and he doesn’t ask.

She’s asking about his job and the law firm when her phone vibrates. “It’s my boss,” she groans after taking a look at the screen. “Give me a sec?” He nods as steps out to answer.

Emma’s back not a minute later, frowning. “Sorry, I have to bail. A skip I’ve been tracking for almost a month was just spotted downtown, and my boss wants me to grab the jerk before he tries to run again.”

“Not a problem, lass,” he tells her, attempting to mask his own disappointment. “I can tell you put a lot of effort into what you do.”

“Yeah, maybe sometimes too much,” she mumbles, getting her purse and jacket from the seat beside him. “I guess I’ll see you around, Killian.”

He smiles as he watches her leave because he knows she’s probably right.

-/-

She’s right.

They cross each other’s paths three times over the next two weeks, twice at the coffee shop where they first unofficially met- with no coffee spilt either time, thankfully- and then at a local carnival that Liam has yet again coerced him into going to. (Killian thinks later that his brother wouldn’t need to go to so much effort to get him to do things if he knew Emma would be there.) Each encounter they’ve had since the party has been much different than the first few; although they both have a dry sense of humor and are too sarcastic for their own good, there has yet to be an instance that involves yelling or has someone convinced they hate the other.

It’s gotten to the point now that he’s begun to think of Emma as more than just a regular acquaintance, but maybe even a friend: He texts her corny jokes when she’s bored during a stakeout and she’s taken to willingly sitting at his table when they show up at the same restaurant for lunch. They haven’t gone as far as to share the more painful details of their pasts, but he’s convinced her background must closely mirror his own somehow based on her demeanor when something along the lines of childhood or family comes up in conversation. She always changes the subject or gives some kind of vague answer and he knows better than to push the subjects any further. It’s evident she’s been through quite a bit in her life and he sees no reason to make her reminisce any more than she already does.

And, yes, he likes her. A lot, if he’s being honest. And it’s just his luck that he realizes it about the same time Liam does.

“Why not ask her out already? The worst thing she can do is say no.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Killian groans. “I can’t complain; I’m lucky we’re even able to be friends considering the way we met.”

“And you’re always going to wonder what could have been if you don’t take that chance.”

Liam’s words stick with him for quite some time afterwards because he knows he’s right. Emma may hate him for going through with this, but he may come to hate himself even more for being a coward.

It’s Monday night when he goes over to Emma’s apartment after leaving the office.

“Hey, Killian,” she greets him when she comes to the door. “What brings you by?”

“Go out with me?”

“What?” The dumbfounded expression on her face makes him regret not thinking this through.

“Sorry, love, it’s just I know we didn’t exactly start off on the right foot, but I’ve found myself becoming more and more fond of you and I was wondering if...oh, bloody hell,” he curses, running a hand through his already unkempt hair. She was definitely going to say no. “You know what, Swan, forget it. I’ll just go.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry for botheri- wait, what?” He can’t have heard her correctly.

“Yes.” Emma smiles. “I was hoping you would ask eventually.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek before turning to go back into her apartment. “Tomorrow night, pick me up at seven. I’ll be waiting.”

Liam yells “I bloody told you so!” when he calls him on the way home. Killian’s too thrilled to care.

#cs ff #cs fic #cs fic formal #welllpthisishappening #cs fluff #cs au #captain swan #captain swan fic #meredith writes

[clacker--volley]

Headcanons.

- Would fight anyone who undermines or harms dogs tbh. - Is actually a pretty good singer. Too bad he prefers to burst out singing terribly off-key just for shits and giggles. - Sometimes, thinking about Hamon - the word -, can make him feel insanely hungry. - Is a natural at asspulling. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- Absolutely DESPISES any type of unfair discrimination, especially racism and homophobia.

- Being away from friends, family- or just people in general, for extended periods of time often makes him feel depressed and spiritless. While Joseph doesn’t show it, he’s always felt alone since childhood, due to barely having any friends for much of his life a n d being left to believe that both of his parents were dead. Although Joseph does value having alone time as well, he still prefers spending time with others overall.

- A big chatterbox sometimes, chiefly if it's a topic/about something he loves. 

- Due to being fairly rich, he can be a greedy ass most of the time, although him showing acts of generosity IS very much possible. - Has a HARDCORE love for tricks and pranks. so much that it can even get him into some trouble with the law.#itsjustaprankbro - Should he see somebody upset and needing some comfort, especially if they're crying, he won't falter going full-retard mode- telling jokes or funny stories just to get them to crack a smile. - Can mimic a few animal noises with near-perfect accuracy. Bird-calls are his specialty. - Likes to tease others should he find out that they like pinapple on pizzas, yet; Joseph secretly likes pineapple on pizzas himself. Unironically. - Joseph's often warm, (usually) polite, and silly to most people, and is unashamed with showing affection (eg. head pats, hand on shoulder/back, hugs) to those he likes/cares about- sometimes even treating complete strangers as if he'd known them for years. However, he'll be hot headed as well as rude, get confrontational and violent- at times going as far as holding a grudge towards anyone who insults/hurts/acts like an asshole to him, or others, firsthand. - Can be meticulous with what garments he'll purchase or wear. It's not uncommon to see Joseph being stuck in his wardrobe searching for something 'cool' or 'tasteful' to wear before going out on a daily basis. - Joseph is confident as heck in himself, so getting even slightly red-faced is a rarity. When it does happen, it can take a rather huge hit on his self-esteem afterwards.   - Finds that he feels more 'alive' and lively af around evening time, particularly when close or in enormous cities where there's a lot of activity. - (Un)surprisingly knows a thing or two about applying cosmetics and is surprisingly good at it. - Knows jack shit about managing or saving money responsibly, often buying random stuff out of impulse. What Jojo mostly buys are  firearms, junk food, and comic books, among other stuff that happens to catch his eye. -He collects various things, mostly superhero comic books, figurines, and other collectables that pertain to superheros - (Despite not being very good at it) Joseph can act flirtatious now and again, even without taking note. However when it comes to wanting to legit impress someone he likes, he'll (at first) likely try too hard to come off suave and cool, then wind up acting like the big lovable goofball that he really is. - Absolutely DESPISES any type of unfair discrimination, especially racism and homophobia.

-Whenever Joseph is at an Italian restaurant, he almost always ask if they have squid ink pasta first before anything. And frequently avoids anything with the name 'Caesar' in it -The sight of bubbles always gets him all sentimental

- Unless you want to have a messy, burnt up kitchen NEVER ask Joseph to cook- even asking him to boil water without supervision would be risky - He can speak English, Japanese, and a few words in Italian -Prior to dealing with actual vampires and all that bs Halloween used to be one of Joseph's favorite holidays- nowadays he lowkey doesn't trust nor acknowledge anyone that go trick-or-treating, especially those dressed up as supernatural creatures (eg. vampires, werewolves, witches, etc.). Christmas is his new favorite holiday.

-Despite being a smartass who is rude, intentional or not, he's still a warm, affectionate person- and acts like a big-ol puppy to the ones he trusts/cares for the most.

- Can fall asleep like a rock practically anywhere/on anything, and does so quite often. His dreams are wacky and strange, though Joseph tends to forget them easily.

- Give him a video game and, instead of playing the game normally on his first playthrough, he'll likely (thanks to his Bizarre Luck) find the strangest glitches/exploits- then proceed to break the game even further by using cheats/hacks.

- Joseph has no special physical 'preferences' when it comes to romantic partners/S.O, but he finds himself attracted to the type of people that are fun-loving, kindhearted, care for their loved ones, love pranks and/or are as creative as he is. He's also unpredictable, so he might suddenly fall for others fairly quickly, even if they might not be the perfect match. He's dense af, so if the other person wants to make their move(s) first, they'd have to be pretty forward. Even then, it might take a while for any realizations that he also likes them back to sink in.

- It wouldn't be a shock to see such a hotheaded, impetuous, and confrontational young man like Joseph to often willingly and carefully cater to a S.O's every whim every now and then, so much so that it might overwhelm them or even make Joseph himself come off as superficial at times- neither of which is intended. - Loves to tease/troll others through various means, usually to exact playful/innocent revenge on his friends, or (on a more severe level) toy with enemies in order catch them off guard and learn their weaknesses. Seeing others become utterly confused/100% done with life? The boi lives for it- yet, rather ironically, Joseph himself is easily frustrated should his (often improvised) schemes backfire on himself- which happens most of the time.

-His favorite foods are fried chicken, squid ink pasta, chewing gum, chocolate, caramel, Italian food, Mexican food, apricot, American food, sour/sweet candy, bananas, strawberries, apples, and lime -His favorite drinks are coca cola, coffee, sprite, and water with ice (when he’s in a Fancier Mood he’ll sometimes use ice containing cut-up fruit, like strawberries or lime)

- Is an extremely messy eater who he practically inhales large amounts of food, especially after training or doing physical activities. The only times where he holds himself back is when eating in front of family, friends, or important figures, but even then, Joseph keeping his face completely clean isn't guaranteed

~more will be added as I think of them!