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mewtwo24 · 4 years

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Noragami Thoughts

After a few years of not looking at this series (which is completely understandable, I very much wish the creator a full recovery) I was blown away upon my first return to the story.

Granted this isn’t the first time I’ve ever felt something so deep for a polished work, but I’d like to say it all the same--returning to Noragami felt like coming home. I’m a completely different person than I was when I first encountered the series, but I was surprised to find that my high regard for it didn’t change at all.

If anything, it only increased.

Thoughts below the cut because this is long, and I just needed to get my ideas down (good old catharsis). Don’t open if you aren’t caught up with the manga! There are spoilers.

I love this manga. Truly, I do, and one of the things that I noticed going back is how expertly Adachitoka handles both Yato’s self-understanding and the perception of the other gods. I think what levels me the most about this manga is that its emotional highs and lows are not only expertly controlled (we experience the weight never quite to the point of devastation, even though things are culminating in that direction) but the way we experience the characters is just...so breathtaking?

I love that the reason we hurt so much when they’re hurting isn’t always because we see the character in question in anguish. It’s because we see everyone that loves them suffer so acutely when they’re not okay.

And how beautiful is that? Something about that choice--that narrative decision to take trauma, to take pain and make it something that is always about love, is astonishing to me. I don’t think I know of another series that does it quite so poignantly as Noragami does. It expertly executes what I like to call “the anime effect”; in which we are so easily taken in by the humor we are utterly blind-sided when the world comes crashing down on the characters with full force.

And if that seems farfetched, just look at a handful of the recent examples. (I’m positive I could find more if I went looking back.) Kazuma is in a state of utter crisis because of what happened to Bishamonten, and the sheer desperation of everything he has done is chilling. His face and his self-deprecating words do little to hide the turmoil, but I feel like sometimes that’s lost in all of his shenanigans with Yato. We feel it in the moment, but we’re so swept away by the plot that it’s almost sidetracked. Almost. Until we get to the absolutely heartwrenching panel of Bishamon crying after he reports what he’s doing--essentially what he’s always done. Being devoted to her to the point of self-destruction; because it’s precisely the outcome she was trying to avoid in using another shinki against Fujisaki.

Take another, Ebisu. We see him painstakingly working despite his adorable youth to bridge the gaps that his predecessors failed to, to right every wrong he possibly can. He’s approaching the future with fresh eyes. But then we see that, even though he’s trying hard to be strong, there’s something more there. The older Ebisu, knowing that his fate was to perish long before any great age, had come to terms with that--as best as any person could possibly come to terms with that--and was already invested in protecting his successor. Gently, earnestly, firmly. We see a younger Ebisu that is enthralled with him, and the reader naturally assumes young Ebisu sees him as a parental figure. But then we get those shocking lines, the ones that mention how scared his predecessor must have been. How hard a lifetime of secrecy must be, how hard it must be for his closest retainer to keep secrets as well. We see an Ebisu that is young, yes, and with plenty of mourning available to him--and he takes it all in stride. Seeks to alleviate a great weight that was never his responsibility to begin with. But he takes it anyway, at the sight of their struggle. He makes it his own, despite the danger, because he loves them; as most young children do, without reserve.

And the surprising one, Nana. We see Yato make an attempt to ask for her help in ending Fujisaki once and for all--and Nana doesn’t seem entirely against the prospect of a fight--but Ara-habaki banishes him at the mere prospect of lending her over for that purpose. The meaning of that gesture? Profound and undeniable. Nana is utterly touched by the implication, is moved that somebody in this shoddy excuse of an afterlife would give a damn about her feelings as compared to her value as a shinki. We see a god that once again rejects the prospect of using shinki like chess pieces, and we even see Yato’s misgivings about using her to begin with--it was an act of desperation, and he moves no further when he’s reminded that it’s wrong. When he’s reminded that this isn’t the sort of thing he should do. After all, how can he look Yukine and Hiyori in the eye with the knowledge that he used a child to protect them? An unrelated party, a person who has never seen life because of her incredible power, and has been used one too many times to win a war that was never her responsibility.

And then, we have Yukine. Good fucking god, I can’t even start on this one without crying. I truly can’t. Granted I don’t know the intention of Adachitoka when first writing this (feels intentional), but the parallels between Yukine and Yato? Absolutely destroy me. There was nothing left in my heart but sorrow for the last few chapters. Here’s why.

We have Yato, or perhaps I should say Yaboku, yes? Who takes on Yukine as his shinki. As we all well know (and probably want to scream) Yaboku was the victim of considerable abuse by Fujisaki. I probably don’t need to go into the finer points, but coercion, blackmail, and outright threats have been exchanged, to say nothing of the way he uses Yato’s emotional suffering for his explicit amusement. Yato is a tool to him, nothing more. Anything Yato wants can and will be used against him for the sake of tightening Fujisaki’s collar around his neck even tighter.

Yato is no stranger to the kind of pain that comes from being the child of a person that does not remotely love you. A guardian who appreciates nothing, recognizes nothing, praises nothing, protects no one unless it is of use to them. Feelings, fairness, humanity--none of those things matter.

Enter Yukine. In milliseconds Yato is charged with the care of a young man who was veritably buried alive by his own father. With nothing and no one to help him, an entire life lost--devastated--by the person that was intended to care for him. That kind of betrayal on its own, is purely horrific. There are no words I can say, nothing I can offer that can speak to the monstrosity of something like that. But I would like to offer that the way Adachitoka brings us to this truth is what makes it so utterly tearjerking. That it is precisely the narrative style of tangentially enclosing on the subject that is so ruinous I can barely see my screen, even now as I write.

It’s because we knew, even when we didn’t know.

From the very first moment, we see Yato accept Yukine and he covers his eyes with his arm. We see tears streak down his face but he makes no further comment to any of it, keeping quiet with his subsequent silly antics.

Strike one.

Throughout the course of manga we see allusions to how Yato encourages Yukine to learn what he didn’t get the chance to in his human life, sifting through workbooks and engaging with schoolwork with Hiyori’s help.

Strike two.

When Yukine is locked inside the box the other gods enforce during the trial in heaven, trying to pressure information out of Yato? We see Yato panic at exponential degrees, begging them to let Yukine out because neither of them can breathe.

Strike three.

Yukine’s pervasive fear of dark, enclosed spaces?

Strike four.

And last, but absolutely not least, we see Yato digging where Yukine was presumably left to die. Nora notes that he was so on edge that he was hyperaware of his surroundings, forcing her to watch from a distance. Let that sink in. Yato was already so taken with his charge, with respecting his dignity and suffering as a person, that he would be damned if he let Fujisaki interfere. Not only that, we visibly see Yato’s absolute horror, the distress in every line of his face as he races to the site of murder and digs like a madman, no thought to his own fear or discomfort.

He takes more responsibility for Yukine’s care than the kid’s own father ever did.

Strike five.

Hiyori begins to outright sob when she too, brings all of the pieces together so quickly; that moment of realization, where every fragment of odd behavior suddenly transfigures itself into a coherent image, the mosaic visible. We experience Yato’s horror twofold when it echoes in Hiyori, and we feel the depth of her sorrow to know that somebody she cares about suffered such an egregious indignity. And to top all that off, we are aligned with her in this moment as one of solidarity. Yukine is rough around the edges sure; but we love him, and his fate is one we would wish on nobody.

Strike six.

And, my dear readers, is that enough for us? Are we feeling enough hurt quite yet, Adachitoka asks? Fuck no.

Because now we know that Yato not only carried the weight of Yukine’s trauma, but we also know how deeply he understood. Granted, their fates were a little different, but he knows. He knows how infuriating helplessness can be, the incapacity to stop the hurt at its source; because their lives were changed irrevocably beyond their control. Neither of them got to choose who they were born to. And even so he still tries to do right by Yukine, even if his attempts at care are awkward or ridiculous or roughly hewn--they’re utterly, heartbreakingly genuine. And he chooses to be better than his father no matter how many times he messes up; never, ever sinks to those lows. Never uses Yukine, never ignores his will, would never risk his life--even if it meant saving his own (Fujisaki sees literally everyone that will not contribute to his aspirations as expendable). And that’s what makes me cry, even more than the refrigerator scene. Because Yato would never put Yukine at risk to save his own life, even though next to no one has ever given a damn about him, even though Yukine pokes fun at him all the time and hurts him when he acts out of line/immorally, even though he had every liberty to treat him like an item or coerce him. He doesn’t. Or perhaps more accurately he can’t; not when he knows how much that hurts.

The other gods assume Yato to be lazy, irresponsible, unfeeling, selfish. Yato could have dropped Yukine like a rock. Could have said lol no thanks, this ain’t it chief, and decided to find another shinki that would cause him less grief.

He doesn’t.

And that’s what’s so awful about their falling out. Because Yato cares, cares beyond his capability to express, cares to the point of unrelenting faith in him. But he’s the certified goofball. The disgrace among the gods. A no-name. And he’s fully internalized that. He struggles with vulnerability, has to be somewhat drunk or flees the scene shortly after any expression of heightened feeling--and we can thank daddy Fujisaki for that. Yato understands his love for others as a purely destructive force; if being around him isn’t enough to ruin their lives, Fujisaki will ensure it. And that conditioning doesn’t go away in mere weeks of renouncing an abuser.

He loves Yukine and Hiyori so much that he no longer cares if he dies if it means that they live freely. He spent an entire god-span lifetime trying to remain in existence by any means possible, was obsessed with surviving at any cost. And yet, the moment his loved ones are at risk, it no longer matters.

Not only is he capable of more altruism than his father was ever capable of, he directs it whole-heartedly to the people devoted to him. When he was given no love, no solace, no semblance of worth of any kind--he still gives their existence meaning and would do everything in his power not to hurt them.

And that’s why I love Noragami. Because it does precisely what so few stories do, imo. It shows us that people grow for the better only when they find love, and that love can come from unlikely places--that you can love even if it was never, ever given to you.

In Noragami, we come to understand that love is a choice. And sometimes it brings us pain, sometimes it brings us joy, but it always brings us to a better place.

I would like to end this all with the words that bring this entire analysis together, in the beauty of knowing that Adachitoka by no means implies this without clarity.

Nana and Fujisaki are two of the strongest characters that we have ever seen in this manga. Fujisaki is motivated, iirc, by the loss of the love of his life. This aching bitterness, the sheer undying rage inspired by her life cut short is what enables him to transcend every barrier that should stand in the way of a human being, presumably. He is our insight into what happens when love is twisted, we see a potential that was utterly lost to selfishness and cruelty--one that reverberates through Yato starkly.

We see the danger of improper mourning, of an incapacity to let go. A truth Yato understands: life must go on, that it must keep flourishing anew no matter how much the growing pains sting.

And here, we see Nana. In her profound compassion, she understands that every single life is a meaningful individual, that they are innumerable points of value and beauty and worth in the world, and as such her death cannot be a source of sorrow. There is a clarity of understanding; she knows she is not alone in her experience, she knows that all human beings encounter trials and tribulations. She knows that she is not the first to die so young, so unfairly. And that’s what grants her strength. Yato calls it self-sacrifice, and while I understand that he assumes it to be a self-martyring conviction, I don’t think that’s quite what she’s getting at. Look at her dialogue, the careful phrasing: “It hurts more when someone you love dies.” She’s not saying she would rather die 1:1, she’s saying that the worst experience a person can have is seeing their cherished one in agony. The worst feeling, the only thing that could ever hurt her beyond sanity, is watching someone dear to her suffer without any means to stop it. Precisely what warped Fujisaki beyond repair.

“He loves Yukine and Hiyori so much that he no longer cares if he dies if it means that they live.” Reread those panels with that understanding. He literally marvels at Nana’s capacity to do that, to love people with so much tenderness and generosity, when he doesn’t even seem to realize that he’s doing it himself. That he too, is noble and strong, even if he can’t believe it.

And that’s the whole point. That’s the entire grounding of this manga. That love is what drives us, that we are made to love, and through love we find peace and self-understanding even in the most turbulent of times. I wouldn’t be remotely surprised if it is to be Hiyori’s devotion to him--ever steady, ever pure in its intentions and belief--that will be what grants Yato the strength to overcome Fujisaki, and heal Yukine.

And having said all that, I know they probably won’t see this but I still feel the need to say it anyway. Thank you, Adachitoka. Works like this are the ones that inspire me to keep trying, that bring me to tears as much as it makes me smile. I can only hope I can create somethings so wonderful someday.

#noragami #noragami aragoto #noragami spoilers #noragami aragoto spoilers #noragami yato #noragami hiyori #noragami yukine #noragami ebisu #noragami kazuma #noragami bishamonten #noragami fujisaki #bro the new chapters had me shaking and crying #deadass still can't fully process what this manga means to me #this was just a shallow attempt at getting to the heart of it #god damn adachitoka have mercy #if any of you managed to get through that you have my sincere thanks and congratulations #analysis

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beca-mitchell · 4 years

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Lucky Clover (1/1)

Summary: Beca has been remiss in informing Chloe about her new roommate, so it's a surprise for everybody involved when Chloe visits Beca in L.A..

Rating: G for gross amounts of fluff.

Word count: 1.7k

Thanks @asimplefavors for being an idea buddy...you demon. Unbeta’d.

Read below or on AO3.

L.A. is lonely and nobody warned Beca it would be so fucking hard to make friends.

“It isn’t a big deal,” she tells Chloe forlornly over FaceTime one evening while a few boxes sit at her feet, still yet to be unpacked.

It’s been months.

(Months of not living with Chloe, months of not waking up to a mouthful of Chloe’s hair—months of just doing this back-and-forth game with Chloe over social media, messaging, and sporadic FaceTimes.

Months of not being a “thing” and yet—)

“I know it isn’t,” Chloe says kindly. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” Beca says quickly. “I think it’s just…” she swallows, trying not to stare too greedily at the slightly blurry video feed of Chloe’s face. “Just a little adjustment. I’ve been learning that people aren’t looking for friends...not as much as they’re looking for a connection.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe murmurs.

I miss you, Beca thinks. “I’ve always been bad at making friends,” Beca finally says with a self-deprecating grin. “No, no,” she says quickly over Chloe’s protests. “It’s true and I should embrace it.”

“I only ever wanted to be your friend,” Chloe says. It makes Beca blush. Not the sentiment itself, but the way Chloe says it—like it’s the softest secret she could share with Beca. Like there’s so much more to be unpacked there. “And I’ve never regretted being your friend.”

Beca throat feels tight. “Same,” is all she manages to say.

Chloe brightens. “Maybe you should try Tinder.”

Beca blushes furiously right up to her forehead at the same time her entire body unclenches at the release of tension. “Chloe, no.”

Chloe laughs then, sounding almost relieved. “Yeah, maybe not.”

(—and yet, moments like that. Beca isn’t complaining.

Not a lot anyway.)

— — — — — — — — — —

Some things can’t be bought, Beca thinks as she accepts the form that Theo hands her. But maybe friendship can be acquired through other means.

“Are you sure?” Theo asks, but he looks disgustingly happy for Beca. Gross.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Beca says, avoiding his amused expression.

“And you’re still not going to tell Chloe?”

“No, I am not because it isn’t a big deal. I’ll tell her eventually.”

— — — — — — — — — —

It isn’t a big deal.

Beca isn’t expecting Chloe to visit, but she realizes that perhaps nine months of not seeing each other might be somewhat significant.

Even if Beca isn’t expecting it, it’s more about the fact that Chloe kind of springs it on her by suggesting that she visit Beca one upcoming weekend and Beca finds herself agreeing nearly immediately. Almost too quickly.

It’s then that Beca remembers that she has the problem of her recently acquired roommate—a roommate that only recently entered her life—and it’s something she hasn’t quite shared with Chloe just yet, knowing just how Chloe would feel about the topic.

“Fuck,” she mutters.

It isn’t a big deal.

— — — — — — — — — —

She forgets about it until she’s waiting for Chloe at Arrivals and tugging her baseball cap lower over her eyes. When she remembers, she groans, realizing that forgetting to tell Chloe about her new friend is akin to breaking one of Chloe’s cardinal friendship rules.

It really isn’t a big deal at all and Beca knows she can just get it out of the way.

It’s just that—

Well—

Suddenly Chloe has her arms so tightly wound around Beca’s shoulders and back and Beca’s ears are still ringing from the ear-splitting shriek Chloe released into the air (also startling nearby travellers).

It’s not Beca’s fault she forgets, not really. Not when Chloe smells like home and being pressed up against her feels like being wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket Beca has ever known.

(And it’s not that Beca’s like, totally disappointed or anything, but she totally thought she and Chloe would have some kind of dumb movie moment. Maybe with a kiss. But maybe she’s been misreading the signs over months and months of flirty back and forths.

Maybe.

She’s trying not to think about it, even when Chloe’s lips touch her cheek for the fourth time in the past five minutes.)

— — — — — — — — — —

The Uber from the airport is filled with Chloe and Beca each talking excitedly over each other for a good portion, simply catching up. Beca feels the oddest desire to reach across the small distance between them to hold Chloe’s hand until Beca realizes she should probably let Chloe know.

“Hey,” Beca says quickly, talking over Chloe before she launches into another story. She regrets it when Chloe stops talking, oddly missing the sound of her voice. The odd sensation is confusing, but Beca shakes it off. “There’s just this little thing. I have a roommate now. And sh—”

“—You have a roommate?” Chloe asks. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have suggested visiting.” Her brow furrows. “I can get an Airbnb or something,” she promises earnestly. “I know you’re short on space.”

“No!” Beca exclaims far too quickly. “No, it’s fine,” she reassures at Chloe’s shocked expression. “She won’t mind, I promise.”

“Oh,” Chloe says in a tone that Beca finds entirely too confusing for her sleep-deprived state. Instead, she looks down and fiddles with her phone while Chloe inhales. “What’s her n...I mean,” Chloe stumbles, causing Beca to look up curiously. “I’m excited to meet her,” Chloe says with eyes far too bright to be totally sincere.

Beca’s brow furrows in her attempt to make sense in the change of mood. “I mean, she’s not really—” The car jerks to a stop, alerting Beca that they’ve arrived at her apartment complex. “I, uh, just come in and you can meet her. She’s great,” Beca says, her entire body softening with every word.

Her two favorites in one place, finally.

She can hardly wait.

— — — — — — — — — —

Chloe squeals immediately.

“Beca Mitchell, you got a dog?”

Beca grins, dropping her handbag by the door while Chloe unceremoniously wheels her luggage through the hallway before falling to her knees and cooing happily at Beca’s dog.

“Adopted,” Beca corrects. “About two months now,” she says while walking closer to Chloe. That proves to be a mistake because Chloe immediately smacks her leg when she gets close enough. “Ow! What the fuck was that for?”

“You didn’t tell me you got a dog!”

“It slipped my mind!” Beca defends. She hesitantly drops to her knees next to Chloe and apparently Chloe’s new best friend. “It happened so quickly while I was volunteering one weekend and then I kind of just...couldn’t get her off my mind. So I got Theo to set up an adoption appointment. And…” Beca smiles, reaching out so she can get in a few pats of her own.

“Here you are,” Chloe finishes, still using the same tone while gazing intently and lovingly at Beca’s dog.

“Here we are,” Beca murmurs in wonder, eyes fixated on the scene before her.

“What’s her name?”

Beca freezes. “Um,” she hesitates. “Well, she didn’t really have a name because she’s a rescue but…” Chloe is already reaching for the dog tag.

“Clover,” Chloe reads aloud.

Beca is silent.

“Clover,” Chloe repeats.

“Yes,” Beca says quickly and far too defensively.

“Clover,” Chloe says with a grin on her face. It stretches across her lips maddeningly quick as she attempts to catch Beca’s eyes. “That’s a cute name.”

“You would think so,” Beca grumbles.

“And why would I think so?”

“Because…” Beca trails off.

“Because…?” Chloe echoes in a tone that sounds suspiciously like she’s barely resisting from singing the word.

Beca sighs.

Chloe seems to take pity on her, finally. “Because it sounds like my name?”

It takes a few moments while Chloe continues to slowly pat Clover’s fluffy head with her eyes fixated on Beca with startling concentration. When Beca looks up, even Clover is looking at her with a similar expression of utmost focus.

Beca finally nods, afraid to meet Chloe’s eyes. “I...I just missed you, okay?”

“Beca, I—”

“And it’s dumb, but when there are moments when I couldn’t just pick up the phone and call you, I had her and you just have to…” Beca exhales noisily. “She reminded me so much of you. But in all the ways that you always used to make me feel like I was somebody worth sticking around for. And somebody worth—” loving “—well,” Beca says quickly. “You know.”

“You’re still worth sticking around for,” Chloe says softly, not a hint of judgement in her voice. “And of course I’ve been missing you too. So much. More than you know.”

“I didn’t realize how hard it was, not having you around.” Beca watches absently as Clover stands and moves around until her head is lying in Beca’s lap. Chloe shuffles closer on her knees as well, reaching out to press a hand to Beca’s forearm.

“Beca,” Chloe murmurs. “I’m here now.”

“I know,” Beca says in an almost petulant tone. She’s an adult, she can refrain. “But you weren’t before.” Nevermind.

“And now that I’m here,” Chloe says patiently. “You can tell me anything.” Chloe is somehow closer still; she has somehow inched even closer without Beca realizing it.

Clover lifts her head and her tail thumps on the ground excitedly, almost at the same rate as Beca’s heart when she realizes how close Chloe’s face is to her own.

“Can I do something instead?”

Chloe begins to grin again. “Sure.”

“Hypothetically, if this thing were to be badly-received, you’d let me down easily, right?”

Chloe adopts a serious expression quickly. “Right. Totally would let you down easily.”

“Or I’ll set Clo on you,” Beca warns without thinking.

Chloe’s serious expression crumbles spectacularly. “Clo?” she questions, delighted at Beca’s slip-up.

Beca panics. “Shut up,” she says quickly and reaches up to quickly pull Chloe’s face towards her own, finally closing the minuscule distance between them.

Clover barks and immediately runs a quick circle around them as Chloe settles even closer to Beca, tilting her head ever so slightly as they share their first kiss in an apartment that Beca never bothered to decorate; as they share their first kiss in an apartment that Beca shares with her dog named Clover and empty spaces she selfishly reserved for one Chloe Beale.

L.A. finally feels like home.

fin.

#bechloe #pitch perfect #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #mine #my fanfic #text

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winrene · 4 years

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wenrene fanfic masterpost

(last updated 15/07/2020)

(these are all from ao3, i can try and make one from aff too if anyone wants it, but i don’t really read on there)

Completed

let's get away tonight by daybreaking - “you should really stop showing up like this,” joohyun reprimands, wry and dry, but her hands are reaching out to take the spare helmet anyways. “my parents will know about it someday.” seungwan just grins under her helmet, cheeks full and pressing against the insides of it. she pats the space behind her on the motorcycle. “yeah, someday.”

oneshot, 3,341 words, highschool au

i'll be your naughty girl & i got to have ya babe by throwaway18 - seungwan thinks joohyun is too much of a prude to be able to beat her in a dance-off. and joohyun is certain she's the only person capable of getting into seungwan's nerves.

oneshot, 6,800 words, dancer/rivals au

much ado about nothing by numot94 (futureplans) - seungwan's front-door neighbour is the most beautiful woman she's ever seen, and one day she'll definitely work up the courage to ask her out. in the meantime, though, she'd be happy to get through a conversation without embarrassing herself.

39 chapters, 180,319 words, neighbour au (this is simply gorgeous, one of the best wenrene fics of all time in my opinion, again highly suggest reading their other wenrene fics)

tell me why my gods look like you (and tell me why it’s wrong) by irwens - joohyun waits tables. seungwan is a cook. they work at the same restaurant.

oneshot, 3,333 words, restauraunt au

when you move, i'm moved by birdii (birdmint) - when you're an idol dating a ballet dancer, finding time to appreciate each other is difficult. seungwan and joohyun do their best.

oneshot, 2,195 words, ballet/solo-artist au

playing pretend by xpenguinqueenx - yeri needs a fake girlfriend to meet her parents, and wendy agrees to fill the spot, but mostly because she wants to eat her yogurt in peace. irene is not enthusiastic about their new 'relationship.'

oneshot, 10,026 words, ordinary-life au

this structure fell about our feet (and we were free to go) by redcapesarecoming - the seven times irene and wendy met in an airport

oneshot, 4,740 words, airport au

recessional by birdii (birdmint) - seungwan calls joohyun for a ride to the airport. it's the first joohyun has heard from her in five years.

oneshot, 4,045 words, modern au

rain will make the flowers grow by 8moons2stars - after red velvet splits up, joohyun and seungwan find each other again.

5 chapters, 5,334 words, canon-divergence au (highly suggest reading this author’s other wenrene fics too)

death of the author by numot94 (futureplans) - all seungwan wanted was to escape reality at least for a little while and go live in some fairy tale where everything goes right and everybody’s happy. still, she didn’t expect it to actually happen! now that she’s found herself in the fairy tale kingdom overnight, she’ll do her best to keep the story on track and make sure princess joohyun gets her happily ever after with the prince. of course, nothing is ever that simple, is it?

11 chapters, 35,134 words, fantasy au

the purity club by changdeol - joohyun bae is the president of their school's christian union who thinks she has all the answers. seungwan son proves her wrong.

37 chapters, 152,278 words, highschool au

sweet like honey by hyunsvelvet - son seungwan is in desperate need of a job. when she gets hired as the new secretary for up and coming forensic lawyer bae joohyun, who has developed a habit of firing secretaries, she's determined to keep this job. she pictured joohyun to be cold and distant, but upon meeting her seungwan can't help but notice her warm personality and begins to wonder how she's the same person known for firing secretaries after hiring them just weeks before.

25 chapters, 48,900 words, lawyer au

and i could see for miles, miles, miles by jisooosname - based off of the prompt: in which joohyun runs an advice podcast show and one day, seulgi asks for her advice and she gives an advice so bad that seungwan hunts her down

oneshot, 5,547 words, college radio-host au (fluff and good feelings all around, a very adorable read)

never mind your bleeding heart by numot94 (futureplans) - the first time seungwan saw joohyun, she’d just turned 13 and the older girl was 14, a few weeks away from her birthday. she fell in love instantly.

3 chapters, 32,742 words, childhood au (yes yes i know another numot fic, but god their writing is amazing i can’t help but suggest it cause i just love everything they write)

hey jealousy by fated_addiction - "you know they're not dating." or when wendy struggles with definitions.

oneshot, 1188 words, canon au (i have a thing for this author’s introspective writing. it’s like a drug, also i’m a sucker for lowercase. highly suggest their semicolon and check one series)

a kiss (to build a dream on) by seungvvannie (galaxygerbil) - there are other things and other people that should fill up Irene’s time, but maybe… maybe just for now, it can be her in Irene’s heart. just her on irene’s mind. everything else can wait until tomorrow. wendy just wants tonight.

oneshot, 3,845 words, fallout au

pisces by espressochoreom - in which a 24-year-old joohyun is at a laundromat on a gloomy tuesday morning when she recognizes someone across her washer. it's none other than the girl who had her earnestly question her sexuality in high school—son seungwan. the last time joohyun heard from her was six years ago, months after they graduated from high school, when she told her that she was planning to move and stay in canada for good. but of course, that's not the case anymore. seungwan happens to be in the same laundromat building, and from there they attempt to catch up where they left off. the awkwardness is so consistent; it's laughable.

oneshot, 2,447 words, laundromat au (kinda)

vague hope by beatosuffers - irene only knows one thing: emotions are prohibited.

oneshot, 6,475 words, nier:automata au

yesterday, today, tomorrow by sparksfly7 - there are two new girls this year. one is tall and round-cheeked and sweet-looking. the other one – from canada, with her collection of instruments and powerhouse voice – won’t leave irene alone.

oneshot, 2,796 words, canon au

let it shine by sparksfly7 - “it’s just – i planned to talk more, to give people a good impression, but…” irene trails off, clearly frustrated. “i don’t know.” she drops her head, her hair falling over her face. even the pink streaks in it look duller, as if her mood has washed out the dye. “there was nothing wrong with how you acted.” wendy sits down next to her on the bed. “being quiet isn’t a bad thing.”

oneshot, 2,064 words, canon au

see you soon by leirskald - seungwan tries to be okay with everyone leaving for the new year's holiday, but it's hard when she's the one left behind.

oneshot, 1,237 words, canon au

trust these butterflies by rosybutterflies - the circus just isn't that fascinating for irene bae anymore, having been in it since she was young. but the butterflies in her stomach tell her otherwise every time she's with one of the newbies, son seungwan.

2 chapters, 17,527 words, circus au

in her eyes by blkvelvets - now is definitely not the time to get hooked on a dumb freshman with a smile that could light up planets.

oneshot, 2,387 words, highschool au

i wanna come home to you by newboldtrue - irene says, “thanks for not thinking i’m a serial killer. i guess.” “thanks for letting me throw up the worst new year’s eve of my life in your apartment,” room 53 returns, and irene cracks a tiny smile at that. or, irene doesn't know her upstairs neighbor, really, but it's 5am and she won't stop ringing the doorbell;

oneshot, 1,599 words, neighbours au

the scent of you by ashensprites - seungwan, a private investigator, is hired to find a child who went missing almost 15 years ago.

16 chapters, 38,253 words, private investigator au

the downfalls of procrastination by lovelines (alliwantisthetruth) - fun fact #1 : seungwan has exactly 3 midterms coming up this week. fun fact #2 : seungwan has not started to study for any of her midterms. fun fact #3 : joohyun might kill her before she has the chance to sink her gpa. college au where seungwan is a smart but hot mess(TM) and joohyun cannot tolerate messes but for her, she does. somewhat.

oneshot, 1,413 words, university au

close your eyes, see through mine by sindubu - "her name is joohyun, and if that were the case...." her heel comes up to rub at the bridge of her nose. "why is she even here?" junior shrugs. "the intricacies of repressed lesbianism, my young, sapphic friend, is shockingly not in my field of expertise."

4 chapters, 9,070 words, conversion therapy au

feel my heart come undone by sindubu - wendy is homesick.

oneshot, 1,390 words, canon au

Ongoing

i’m different by throwaway18 - when wendy returns to seoul, being mistaken as a homeless person has been far from her expectations.

6/? chapters, 27,871 enemies to lovers/baker au

my heart and this night (makes this game flicker) by daybreaking - seungwan just got dumped and her roommate is trying to make her feel better by playing cards with her, but she just keeps winning and whispering, "sorry."

4/? chapters, 33,782, university au (an absolute favourite of a fic, it is so so good)

colored out the line by baechuzz - it’s been a while since joohyun had seen sooyoung blooming with happiness and love since her soulmate died. so when joohyun met wendy for the first time and during their handshake, a little dandelion blossomed on her wrist—she decided not to say a word and step back on the sidelines. even if wendy was her soulmate.

4/5 chapters, 27,628 words, soulmate au

somebody wants you by winterbreath - wendy doesn’t need anybody to tell her that this is a bad idea but she needs something to draw attention to the coffee shop; and irene needs a pretend-girlfriend. except Irene is a brat—and can someone please just send wendy to hell.

12/? chapters, 71,840 words, fake/pretend relationship au (another one i love a lot, definitely suggest reading this author’s other fic too, especially their all this love series)

shared space by sapphicirene - seungwan needs a new roommate, and joohyun is searching for an apartment. joohyun wonders if it's bad luck or fate that draws her back to seungwan after all these years.

4/? chapters, 11,259 words, college au (i’m not going to lie, this hasn’t been updated since 2018-12, but the chapters that are written are very lovely, so i think it’s worth a look!)

tea party for two by scarletstring - as a veteran female escort, wendy expects to be between the sheets, receive her pay, and then leave -- all within the hour. but wendy can't tell if this particular client knew that when she was spending her time preparing her tea instead of telling her to take her clothes off.

8/? chapters, 114,713 words, female escort au

noisy thoughts by scarletstring - irene moves in to her new apartment, where she meets her interesting roommate.

15/? chapters, 172,654 words, college au (scarlet is currently on hiatus, but their fics are one of the best things you could read)

just my cover, sweetheart by newboldtrue - wendy threw a disbelieving glance at the woman in her passenger seat. “have i had lunch? i just attended my own funeral, haven’t much been in the mood for eating.” or, son seungwan is leaving her life as a hitman in the past--but when a dead woman criticizes her epitaph and offers her one last job, she finds herself agreeing to help. wendy isn't quite sure what she's signed herself up for.

6/? chapters, 14,319 words, 1950s hitman au (hasn’t been updated in AGES, since 2018-08, but it is honestly a really worthwhile read)

#wenrene #these are my personal favourites #i went all the way to the back of the ao3 wenrene tag for these

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madeofsplinters · 3 years

Text

Fic playlist: In The Faces Of Our Children

I think this is the weakest of my “Playing With Fire” / “oh my god they were co-emperors” playlists. It’s just not very... musically cohesive, I think. If you want a lot of different songs about people struggling with difficult relationships in a way that fits this particular fic, though, then here they are.

The fic: In The Faces Of Our Children

Listen along: [Spotify | YouTube]

Unions - Afraid of the Dark

Tell me how deep have you seen Through the dark that follows me

Our opening song. At the beginning of this story, Luke meets Vader; Vader meets Luke. Whether they're going to be able to bear each other, or even understand each other's truth, is another question. Vader certainly appears to Luke, at first, as nothing but a shadow.

Taylor Swift - this is me trying

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that

Vader... really is trying. Very hard. He made a lot of progress in the last fic! He came to terms with a lot of his trauma and made his first baby steps towards righting some of Palpatine's wrongs! He also spent a lot of time hallucinating about a ghost, tried to kill himself, and then ran off and kidnapped his son from the middle of a Rebel training activity. He's a mess, basically. I enjoy getting to write from a mess's point of view.

Sam Tinnesz (feat. Zayde Wolf) - Man or a Monster

It's so hard to tell which side you're on One day is hell, the next day is the dawn

Luke trying hard to figure his father out, and maybe also Vader trying to figure out himself. It's not intuitive for either of them!

Carlie Hanson - Hazel

But you're acting like you're somebody else Like you're losing yourself

Tarkin's phone call with Vader. He is trying very hard! To be a supportive evil boyfriend! While also running the galaxy! But even Tarkin is looking at Vader's recent behavior and being like, dude, WTF. (The singer's frustration with her friend not picking up the phone maps, in my head, to Tarkin's frustration at the fact that Vader just DISAPPEARED for most of a day, immediately following a suicide attempt.)

Hayley Kiyoko - Demons

Don't bother me, my misery It's holding me Won't let me speak

Vader continues wrestling with his mental illness and being very difficult to live with. (There's even a line about lava in this song, it's perfect lol)

Marshmello (with Halsey) - Be Kind

Wanna believe, wanna believe That even when you're stone-cold, you're sorry

Luke feels a hint of remorse and a capacity for caring in Vader's mind, but if that's there, then why is he... well, being Vader? Mysteries abound.

CHVRCHES - Graves

Do you really expect us to care what you're waiting for? When you're high in your castle Keeping an eye on the door

This song works from multiple perspectives in this story, I think. It's Leia, reminding us that she is in the story too, and that there are bigger things at stake here than whether Luke can satisfyingly reconnect with his father. It's Luke, protesting incoherently that the Empire blows up planets, when both of his new father figures seem to think he shouldn't trouble himself about that. In a very strange sideways way it's also Tarkin, trying fruitlessly to remind Vader that the Rebels, including Luke, are not merely wayward children but political threats to the Empire. So much of this story is about personal relationships, but the political backdrop will not allow itself to be ignored forever.

Tones And I - The Kids Are Coming

We got to clean up the mess you've made Still you don't wanna change

This is supposed to be a song about Gen Z but now it's Rivoche and Garoche's, especially Rivoche's. Vader and Tarkin may think they know what ought to happen with their family, but all three of their offspring have a different idea. I just needed a peppy little song that encapsulates at least some of the ridiculousness going on at the Imperial Family's big dinner party, and this delivers.

MXMS - Salvation Hurts

There's a shadow at your door It's a reckoning, reckoning

I really just picked this one because of the title, which is as good a title as any for, as the tags say, a "long slow painful redemption arc."

Linkin Park - What I've Done

For what I've done I start again And whatever pain may come Today this ends

Vader's big turning point.

Hidden Citizens (feat. Tim Halperin) - Don't Speak - Epic Trailer Version

I really feel I'm losing my best friend I can't believe This could be the end

Okay I have no excuse. Well, one excuse. It's a pandemic and Spotify got me briefly hooked on incredibly cheesy ~cinematic covers of pop songs and I heard this one at precisely the wrong time. Anyway, it got wedged into the playlist because it's now associated in my brain with the moment Tarkin realizes Vader's going to side with the Rebels. As over-the-top as it is, it really is just about that earthshaking of a moment for him.

Klergy (feat. Valerie Broussard) - The Beginning of the End

Reckless behaviour Is looking at a man Like he was a savior

Paired with the previous song. Tarkin reflects on when his relationship with Vader could have gone wrong.

Within Temptation - Firelight

Isn't it strange that love is in the way? It never goes away

I really like the two singers of this song, one having sacrificed everything else for the sake of "truth," the other preferring "truce." Leia is certainly on the "truth" side. But things aren't always so simple. Even as she disowns Luke from the Rebellion, she can't completely disavow what he's done for them. Even as she distances herself from Vader, she can't help but notice how earnestly and poignantly Anakin's old Jedi lineage wants him back. No one can fully sever their emotional connections here, even in the face of problems that are seemingly irreconcilable. (In another of those weird sideways ways, Tarkin might also echo the sentiment in this song, as he realizes he still loves Anakin despite what he sees as Anakin's betrayal of what the two of them stand for. Although, see the next fic re: how that works out for him. :-\ )

In This Moment - Legacy

I will lay my hands on you to ease your pain I will sing to you, I will guide you for everything

These last two songs were both originally supposed to be about something else, but as soon as I heard them I was like, "That's a Luke and Vader song." This song, explicitly an invocation of one's ancestors, is where Luke truly sees enough of Anakin to extend real empathy to him, commits to being with his father and to supporting him in his redemption. The two of them have come a long way, and have a long way still to go. (Maybe it should have been immediately after "What I've Done"; I've gone back and forth about that a little.

Taylor Swift - Daylight

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

This song - arguably the whole album it's in - is basically Taylor Swift writing her own redemption arc, so it's no surprise that it works almost perfectly as a song of Anakin's love and gratitude to Luke. I love how it contrasts the "crimson red," tempestuous love that the singer always expected with the "golden," unconditional one that has been offered. I love the ending. It makes me happy.

#fic playlist

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 5 years

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BTS Maknae Line Asked to Give Crush a Hickey

Summary: this request is mad specific so...see title

Warnings: mass amounts of unresolved sexual tension, cursing, uncomfortable boners, this is SO sexy but also dumb, not exactly smut because I love unresolved sexual tension, this had me sweating tho ngl I kinda wanna write a part 2

Word Count:2157

Jungkook

"You want me to do WHAT?!"

This is the loudest he's ever raised his voice to you in the three years you've been best friends and you're not sure if you've ever seen him blush. You cannot stop laughing at the look on his face.

He's just sitting on your couch, staring at you and frowning when you finally straighten up.

"I'm not asking you to eat me out on the kitchen table, Kook, I just want you to give me a hickey."

He's turned an alarming shade of red. He's sputtering. "Wh-Why? WHY?"

"C'mon, you hate my ex as much as I do I just want to fuck with him. He's bringing that skank he cheated on me with to the party."

"Why me? Why not makeup?" His voice sounds strangled.

"Jesus Christ, Jungkook, do you find me that hideous?"

He swallows hard, darting his eyes away from yours. "Of course not."

"I tried makeup it looks too fake and how desperate would it look if it rubbed off on my shirt, anyway?"

"Because asking your best friend to give you a real one isn't desperate at all," he says dryly, and you hit his shoulder with the heel of your hand.

"He always accused me of fucking you so if we show up together and I have a hickey he'll be so salty."

He looks down at his hands for a moment. "What if I say no?"

You shrug. "I mean I have other friends..."

He shoots his gaze up to yours and sets his jaw. "I'm the one fake dating you at this party so I should do it, right?"

You spread your hands. "That was my way of thinking but I can call somebody else-"

"No!" You jump a little at how loud his protest is. "No," he says more softly, "I'll do it."

He's gone completely stiff, shoulders straightened in an almost straight line.

You smile at him. "Oh, lighten up, Kookie, we've slept in the same bed and nothing happened except you kicking me in the face. What's a little hickey?"

"I said I was sorry about that," he grumbles, looking down at his hands again.

You tap his shoulder to make him look at you and pretend to check and imaginary wristwatch.

"Kook, like sometime this century, maybe? The party is in 3 hours and i gotta shower."

He takes in a deep sigh and leans his head down to your neck hesitantly.

You feel his breath hot on your skin before his open mouth, and it makes you shiver. He latches onto the side of your throat and sucks gently.

When he pulls back you shake your head. "Jesus Christ have you ever given a hickey? You have to get in there, don't be a pussy."

He looks at you for a moment, open mouthed, face still red, and then he grabs your waist and pushes you down onto the couch, pressing his body flush against yours.

He places his hands on your face and your breath goes short because you think he might kiss you but he just tilts your chin up and puts his mouth on your throat again. This time he sucks hard and bites down a little and it almost hurts but you're less alarmed from the pain and more alarmed by the heat rushing through your body.

You can feel that he's hard against your thigh and when he pulls back, looking down at you, breathing harder than he should be, full mouth red and open, you don't know if you are scared he will kiss you or if you want him to.

You push against his chest gently. "Get off me, you pervert."

He goes tomato red again. "I may be your best friend but I'm still a guy, you know."

"Yeah sure whatever! You think I'm hot admit it!" You tease, but you don't wait for him to answer before you run to the mirror.

You exclaim to him that it looks great and close the door, looking at the purplish red mark and trailing it with your fingers.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was sitting shell shocked on the couch, tracing his finger along his bottom lip where it had touched your skin.

Jimin

Jimin has his head cocked at you like an inquisitive puppy and ok, it's cute. He's cute, but he's also your best friend and had been since you were teenagers.

You trusted him not to read into it, so this is why you'd asked him.

"Let me get this straight," he says slowly, "you want to make your crush jealous...but also appear available, so I'm supposed to give you a hickey and then ignore you at his party?"

You nod, feeling a little defeated because it sounds dumb when he says it out loud. "I know, it's ridiculous but he just never notices me and I hoped-"

"I'll do it," he says, scooting closer to you on the bed where you were both sitting cross legged, facing each other.

You're taken aback a bit. "You...you will?"

Jimin shrugs. "I'm your ride or die, right? I've done dumber things for you, like stealing that cheerleader's One Direction phone case because they were sold out everywhere and you saw her get the last one. She beat the hell outta me with her pom poms."

You're laughing, remembering. "I didn't ask you to steal it, you idiot!"

Jimin is grinning widely at you now, playful puppy mode activated. He's leaning closer and closer to you.

"Yeah but you were crying, so it's your fault. I can't stand you being sad."

He pouts, and your heart hurts by how sweet he is sometimes. He'll make some lucky girl one helluva boyfriend.

He puts his hands on your shoulders and you start. "Now?"

He shrugs again and smirks at you. "No time like the present."

Are you crazy or is he being flirty? You inwardly roll your eyes at yourself. Of course he's being flirty, he's Park Jimin.

You'd seen it with girls left and right but it felt a little strange being on the receiving end. Your heart is speeding up.

You turn your head to the side, assuming he'll kiss your neck, but he dips his head lower, kissing just above the swell of your right breast, open mouthed.

A strangled cry comes from your throat because your nipples tighten instantly, your body reacting.

He's moved one hand to your mid back, pressing you into his mouth, and the other on your neck to tilt your head, just below your ear.

You feel hot all over and he's sucking hard at your skin but he doesn't pull back, kissing you over and over and sucking hard, trailing fire across your chest. He lingers for what seems like forever, and when he's made a necklace of small bruises below your collarbone, you have to tug at his hair to get him to pull away.

He looks at you as if he isn't sure where he is for a moment, his full lips wet and red, and your heart skips several beats before he grins at you and shakes his head loose from your grip.

You give him a look, and he shrugs. "You want him to think we're fucking, right? No one will doubt it."

You go to the mirror and you close the door and stand against it for a moment, shaken.

Jimin sits on the edge of your bed, running his hands through his hair over and over, heart racing from your closeness and the sudden need to mark you as his.

"Why are you always so extra, Jimin?" You yell when you burst back into the room after looking in the mirror.

"Hey, you're the one with the hair pulling kink," he says, rubbing the top of his head.

You punch his arm and everything is back like it was save the flush of Jimin's skin and the way you kept tracing his marks on your chest absentmindedly.

Taehyung (V)

Your best friend of six years, Kim Taehyung, is silent as you explain the situation save for a slight surprised hum in the back of his throat when you finish.

"So you want to make your boyfriend jealous?"

You shake your head. "He's not my boyfriend, but I want him to be, and maybe if he thinks I'm seeing someone else he'll finally ask me to be exclusive."

He nods slowly, but he's frowning. "And at the party, I'm supposed to pretend..."

He trails off waiting for you to elaborate.

"That we are friends with benefits or dating or something. You're a good actor, Tae, just pretend you don't find me repulsive."

He frowns deeper. "You are far from repulsive. I don't want to pretend to be your date."

You don't catch his emphasis. "Look, i know I'm not your type or whatever, but it's just a hickey and one night. I bet some girl will try to take you home, anyway."

He's still so quiet, just looking at you intently.

Then he sighs, as if he's doing you some big favor, and you guess he is but jeez it didn't do much for a girl's self esteem that he found it such a chore.

"Will this make you happy? Getting this guy?" He looks so serious, searching your face.

You nod enthusiastically. "Very happy!" You exclaim, and you swear you see this face fall a little.

"Okay," he says resolutely, "how do we do this?"

You're slightly irritated by how little he seems to want to kiss your neck in spite of him just being a close friend, so your voice is harsh.

"For the love of God, Tae, you've given a hickey before!"

"Not on purpose," he says, voice low as if you've scolded him, and you feel bad.

"I'm sorry, bubs. Here you are doing me a favor and I'm biting your head off. This guy just has me so..." You make a "grr" sound in your throat.

Taehyung smiles at you but you can't help thinking it's a little weak.

"I hope he deserves you." He says, looking at you earnestly, and wow that's sweet coming from your friend who called you a slob and made sweeping motions on your bed last week, calling them "dirty laundry angels."

He leans forward as if to kiss your neck but the angle is weird so you impulsively push him back against the couch and straddle his hips.

He draws in a sharp breath and you chalk it up to surprise.

You sweep your hair to one side and offer him your throat like you're in a goddamn vampire movie.

Taehyung had his arms at his sides but when you bared your throat he made a low hum in the back of his throat again and stared at the long line of your neck.

Slowly, he took his hand and trailed it down your neck, starting at your jawline and ending at your collarbone.

Heat pools in your lower abdomen and your mouth goes dry at the hungry look in his eyes just before he strikes like a snake, latching on to your throat and sucking gently.

You hope you aren't shaking when he pulls back, but he isn't looking at your face, just staring at where he'd kissed with a critical eye. Before you can catch your breath he strikes again and he sucks harder this time, almost enough to hurt.

You have to stifle a moan this time. This was a bad idea, he's too hot for your body not to react, even though you're just friends. You’re aching to grind down into him, because you can feel him hard underneath you.

He’s a guy, you’re a girl...it doesn’t mean anything, right?

He pulls away, looks once more, nodding as if he were happy with the results, but instead of looking up at you or pushing you off of him, he tilts your chin up with one finger and kisses you there again, but just once, wet and open mouthed, not sucking anymore.

You really think your legs might be shaking when you climb off him, touching your neck where a purplish bruise is forming.

He just watches your every move, almost blank faced, but you can see his skin is flushed.

You smile at him. “Thanks, Tae.”

Then you lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth and he makes that little surprised hum in the back of his throat again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom.

You close the toilet lid and sit there for a moment, willing your breath to even.

When you go back into the room, it takes a while for you both to start acting normally, and even when you do, Taehyung’s eyes keep darting to the bruise he’d made on your neck and he’d wet his lips, over and over.

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manjehaal · 4 years

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Happy Valentine's Day! @killervibedaily

I realize that in Flash canon Valentine's Day is supposed to only be like a day or two after Marathon, but just pretend there was a 3-week skip. Screw canon. That's why we have fanfiction anyway. This story wasn't at all what I planned but it exists and it's here, so drown with me in this disaster fluff.

Caitlin Snow shuffled down the dilapidated sidewalk, letting her hair bleed white to shield her face from the people. Even while forcing herself to pretend they weren’t, she was certain they were looking, like the monsters would break free from the sewers and try to drag her down with them, to the even darker depths of the city. This narrow alley was bleak enough, she decided, hugging her bag closer to her chest, keeping her eyes peeled for any intrusion as she fast-walked to the colorless diner on the corner of the block.

Being a host now, she could feel the direct shift of perception as Frost took her form, her trepidation turning into acceptance, even while sirens and gunfire were heard like a lullaby somewhere back further. It wasn’t safe, sure, but maybe Frost understood the heart of Gotham in a way she never could. A sense of belonging in the hazard, in the gray umbrella sky, in the war-torn foundations.

Everything shifted back, as Frost let her go, her honey locks spiraling down her shoulders as her eyes turned warm, setting on the booth in the back, where two cups of coffee were steaming. Expectant eyes met hers and she smiled, feeling even more out of place in the dim-lit diner, too dismantled for her to be wearing heels.

“You could have picked a nicer part of town,” she commented, a laugh rolling off her tongue as he lifted from where he was positioned, a warm smile flashing her eyesight as he wrapped his arms around her,

“This is the nicer part of town,” he muffled, laughing in her shoulder, as his hand fell to her elbow, “unless you’re one of the elites.” Shifting back to the booth, Caitlin flopped down, relaxing for the first time since she drove into the city. She spent most of those last few moments parking, cursing over the lack of working extrapilators.

“Cisco, what are you doing in Gotham?” she deadpanned, holding her bag on her lap and she pulled on her mug.

He sighed, eyes flickering up as sirens pounded through the walls of the diner, red and blue swirling across Cisco’s face as he watched them, grimacing as a yell was heard from a few buildings down. “It’s not that bad,” he whispered, just as another car came flying around the curve.

She shook her head, trying to relax again where she sat, with her fingers wrapped tightly around the mug. “You have the whole world to add to your database and you decide to start with Gotham?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, I didn’t actually believe it would be this bad.”

She laughed into her drink, peering out the window as the cop finally pulled away and began speeding in the opposite direction.

“And I wanted to get it over with.”

It would be a little hard for him to finish his research, however, if he wasn’t alive to continue, she considered, hating the thoughts of him walking around in Gotham, unarmed and with dysfunctional meta powers.

Interrupting her anxieties, he reached to touch her hand, a steady gaze passing over her. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I am too. It hasn’t been the same at the lab without you.”

That was an understatement. It had been a rude awakening when she found there wasn’t much reason to be at the lab without Cisco in it, other than the responsibilities she was bound and dedicated to. She would find herself leaning over to tease him, whether she was Frost or Caitlin at that moment, only to find her gaze meeting the cold air. No more warmed up seats for her to sit in once Cisco finished his work. No more cups of coffee left on her desk or pieces of candy being offered to her at seven in the morning. No more goodnight hugs and analytical discussions about the vast probabilities of the universe. No more nothing. No more Cisco.

Looking into his warm eyes, relief settled in her chest at his nearness, for the first time in three agonizing weeks at Star Labs. “It’s been different, that’s for sure,” she said, wishing to adequately convey just how much she meant it. That Cisco was necessary and an irreplaceable component, if for some outlandish reason, he could forget that. That her suggestion had been so easy to act on because he was just that desperate to find his place. She didn’t know how deeply he took her word as gospel.

“Tradition is tradition,” he finally said, glancing up at the approaching waitress, holding a massive plate of at least 10 pancakes stacked on top of each other. Caitin’s eyes lit up, temporarily forgetting her location and putting her attention on Cisco.

“You remembered,” she said, accepting the additional plate and orange juice being handed to her, still with her eyes watching Cisco who was beaming.

He gave her a questionable look as if to ask why she would ever doubt him. “Of course I did. We’re both single, which means this applies. But hey, I am sorry you had to drive through Gotham, but I did say I’d drive to Central City for you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I insisted before you sent me the address.”

He was digging into his stack of pancakes, smiling way too much for a man who just recently became newly single. The intention of their tradition was never supposed to be this lighthearted and positive.

It had been birthed three years back on Valentine’s day, back when Cisco was fighting hard for the heart of Cynthia and Caitlin had been insisting that her and Julian were just friends. They were both single though, and without his “love donut,” as he had put it, Cisco had shown up at her house thoroughly down in the dumps. So they had agreed to keep each other company, watching movies and playing board games, until at around two in the morning when Cisco had turned to Caitlin and said, “I want pancakes.”

She had smiled from the couch, not at all able to provide the energy to actually make pancakes, but Cisco had been content to make them himself, spending the next half hour singing loudly along to Disney songs and encouraging Caitlin to sing alone, who was just humming with her eyes closed on the couch. Clearly, Cisco was tired, but he was very much out of the dumps.

By three in the morning, they were both sitting on the living room floor eating pancakes, talking about their deepest insecurities and promising to be best friends forever. “Promise me,” he said, looking up at her as she moved the plates to the coffee table. “That if we are ever both single and lonely on Valentine’s Day, we’ll do this again.”

“Make a mess?”

“No,” he said, smoothing his messy hair. “Pancakes. They were so good.”

“They were,” she agreed, making herself comfortable on the couch again. “I promise, but only if you make them.”

He nodded eagerly, plummeting onto the recliner beside Caitlin.

The next year, Cisco was with Cynthia, so Caitlin had sat in her living room eating cereal alone.

The year after that, Cisco showed up at her house with far too many pancakes than they could possibly eat, not unless they invited Barry, and they didn’t. This was their tradition and Barry was thoroughly occupied anyway.

And this year, after Cisco broke up with Kamilla, Cisco immediately texted her saying, “We have to meet up for Valentine’s day.” How could she possibly say “no”?

Caitlin smiled at the memory, pouring syrup onto her pancakes as Cisco spread butter on his own. He didn’t look heartbroken to her, and she knew well enough how to tell when he was faking. Just as she had known pretty early into Cisco’s relationship with Kamilla that he wasn’t right for her, and he knew it too. Maybe the stress had driven him to settle for something normal, but he was never supposed to live that way. Cisco Ramon had never been a “normal” person and he never should have tried to fit himself in that box.

And now, even in Gotham City, he seemed to be thriving, eyes lit like someone had struck a match. She longed to catch the flame that freed him, and she intended to do just that. She just had to push herself to say the words first.

“Cisco,” she started, catching his sturdy gaze with the seriousness of her tone. “I said it’s different at the lab without you. You believe that, don’t you?”

“I’m sure you have to do twice the work.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, gazing down at her hands, her face tentative, like she was about to rip off a bandage. “It isn’t about the work. I like the work.”

He resisted the smirk that came in response to Caitlin’s seriousness, the kind that she used when Cisco was having far too much fun in the lab to get anything done. Instead, he waited on her, taking a sip of his coffee.

“It’s lonely, I guess. I know you’re the right person for this job and I still think you should do it, but I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you.”

She looked embarrassed when he looked at her, thoroughly confused why such a confession would cause her to want to shrink back in the way she was right then. So he tried to calm her fears and take her hand again, a smile forming at the thought of being missed. Because he had to be honest. He doubted it at times. When everyone had someone else it could be hard. Even when he was with Kamilla, he was fairly certain she would be alright if he never came back from Crisis. He was even sure that Caitlin would get over it eventually and go on living her life without much of a shift. But here she was, earnestly telling him that she missed him, after only three weeks.

“Then I’ll come back,” he said as if the rest of the world could wait. Everything would sort itself out eventually. Somebody else could easily do it. Somebody without strings attached. If Caitlin needed him in Central City, he would ride home with her in the car right at that moment.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, her face slightly flushed. “I think this is something you’ll be really good at and I don’t think you should quit.”

He agreed to some extent with her assumption, being that he had always been excellent at organizing data. The task before him, though a bit overwhelming, was something he genuinely found interest in. He didn’t quite want to stop, but again, if Caitlin said the word, everyone who knew them had no doubt he would be there in an instant. “I still can’t get the extrapolators to work, or my powers for that matter. It would be so much easier if I could just breach back to see you whenever I could.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to figure it out eventually.”

She nodded, playing with a loose strand of her hair, her eyes still tentative. “I know you will, Cisco.” She paused, but it was very clear she had more to say, but she wasn’t sure she had the courage to say it. To impose. To cling to him in such a way. To make it so abundantly clear that she was missing him so intensely.

“What is it?” he asked, voice full.

She breathed, straightened her hands out on her lap, smoothing out her skirt. “I didn’t realize until you left...how much you meant. I’ve been a wreck, Cisco. I can’t do it anymore. I need to be with you.”

“Then we’ll go back to Centra-”

“No, Cisco. I want to be your partner. I want to go with you.”

Cisco’s calm demeanor changed slightly so that he looked uncertain, alert in a way that implied he was really considering her words. Not rejecting them, but they confused him. Rattled him a bit. Like there was still so much she was not saying, bit back behind her now watery eyes, watching him with an invitation.

“You want to travel with me?” he asked carefully, his expression relaxing significantly.

“Yeah, I can help. Plus, while we’re in Gotham, you can’t possibly tell me you wouldn’t want Frost by your side for safety. At least until you get a hold of being Vibe again.”

He nodded repeatedly, as if showing agreement to all of her points, but he looked cautious, a new thought popping into his head suddenly as his eyes lit up. “Caitlin, that sounds like so much fun.”

She nodded vigorously, her long hair falling over her eyes for a moment, suddenly being pushed to the side of her ear by her best friend, who looked somewhat dazed as he pressed her hair back. “It does,” she said almost mutely, voice shaking ever so slightly.

He paused, his face still close, an urgent look forming in his eye. “I’ll let you come with me, I guess.” And then he grinned. “As long as you agree to be my Valentine. I want all those scary Gotham men to know that a guy like me can definitely get a girl like you.”

She stopped short, her mind racing at his question. “Definitely,” she said quickly, then, smoothing out her hand over the hand that she hadn’t realized she was touching on the table, she soaked in the view, letting a lazy smile meet her lips. “Only if you really mean it.”

“Only if we can be a power couple,” he said, smirking.

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “The most powerful in Gotham, for sure. Vibe and Frost, taking on Gotham together.”

Gaze still steady, he shook his head. “ Frost and Vibe, taking on Gotham together!”

“The whole world together.”

“ Everything together.”

And then she gasped, realizing what she was doing and what Cisco was returning and she began to giggle, her hand falling over her mouth as she forced her eyes onto the table. The room was spinning, even more so when Cisco’s hand wrapped around her hand and squeezed it.

“But in all seriousness, I want you to be my Valentine. I want to be with you. I just…” he sighed, turning his head to get back in her view. “I just wasn’t sure how to say it and if you’d want the same thing. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Cisco straightened in his seat, as Caitlin’s eyes courageously lifted from the table.

“And I’d never want to scare you away. You’re my best friend, and I’d rather be just your friend than risk losing all of that.”

Caitlin just stared at him, struck with what was happening, and that she had been foolish to think he would be weirded out by her neediness for him or deny her when she suggested their partnership. And all along, even if he was with someone else, he deep down felt for her in a way surpassing the platonic nature she feared he would only ever desire. But he was looking back at her, a content little smile growing bigger as she stared at him, her face growing hotter by the second.

She gasped, her eyes going wide with dumb recognition. “I love you.”

Staying composed, his dark eyes squinting as his smile grew and he laughed. “How long?”

She startled, her cheeks feeling feverish as swallowed. “Since...almost three years ago. You never gave up on me. I couldn’t forget that. And you’re the reason I was okay. That I am okay.” She bit her lip, not sure if she should repeat his question or if she should keep her mouth shut, being that he had never confessed that he loved her in the same way.

But then, as she glanced up at him nervously, he froze, “Oh.” Then he laughed. “Caitlin, I love you too, of course. I’ve loved you since...god. I don’t know.”

She couldn’t move.

“I don’t really remember a time when I didn’t at least have a massive crush on you.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling warmly at him, hoping that the turn in her stomach wouldn’t serve as a warning of what was to come, awkwardness and nervousness all around. But her heart was racing, and she couldn’t quite find a way to make it stop that didn’t involve flatlining.

But when he had packed up their leftover pancakes (because Cisco had ordered far too many) and told the waitress that he would like some extra syrup packets for his “Valentine,” she was certain the awkwardness would be worth it.

They walked out into the evening lights, glancing around at the shady neighborhood with equal nervousness. So Caitlin let Frost take the wheel, putting her arm protectively around Cisco’s shoulder with eyes narrowed at anyone who looked as if they might try to make a move. The walk to Caitlin’s car and back to the place Cisco was staying would surely be interesting, but Caitlin had a point when she said having Frost as security would be a good thing.

Giddy with the thought of Caitlin loving him the same way he loved her caused him to smile too brightly for a passerby in Gotham, screaming, “Frost and Vibe, taking on Gotham!”

Frost rolled her eyes, not sure how she was going to deal with this new development.

“Frost and Vibe, taking on Gotham,” she muttered, deciding to have a pointed conversation later with Caity.

#Killervibe #Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #The Flash #killervibevalentine #killervibevalentine20 #valentine #Cisco and Caitlin #Killer Frost #arrowverse #valentine's day

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xialing-gf · 5 years

Text

emily (theseus x reader)

8th installment in my songfic series

Summary (based on the song emily by love you later): theseus loved you, but not as much as he loved emily

Wc:1475

Playlist (listen to while reading the fic!):

♡emily by love you later

♡dancing in a room by EZI

♡never again by Kelly Clarkson

♡lonely people by Orla Gartland

♡sneakers by Chloe lilac

a/n: it’s been so long since i’ve written a fantastic beasts fic, but i’m going to be writing a lot more soon so look forward to that!

You never started anything with one foot out the door, until you met Theseus. Theseus was one of the kindest, most compassionate people you had ever met and pretty soon, you were developing a crush on him. It wasn’t like you to let your feelings dominate logic, yet you allowed yourself to be convinced that you were compatible with him. You turned a blind eye to the looks he gave to another girl and convinced yourself that he was 100% emotionally invested in the relationship with you.

Theseus asked you out before winter break, admitting that he was catching feelings for you. You confessed your feelings as well and you both agreed on a date at Diagon Alley during winter break. The date was enjoyable and fun and you definitely got to know Theseus better. There was some brief flirting and playful banter that added an innocuous tone to your behavior.

When you returned to Hogwarts after winter break, people somehow found out about your date with Theseus. Apparently, one of Theseus’ classmates spotted you two at Diagon Alley and spread the word around. Technically, you and Theseus hadn’t officially decided to date after one date but since everybody assumed you two were officially dating, you and Theseus sort of just agreed to go with the flow.

The first few weeks of dating Theseus were wonderful; all his friends treated you kindly and your peers seemed to respect you more now that you had a boyfriend. Theseus walked you to classes when he could and spent a lot of time with you. Everybody agreed that you and Theseus were a perfect.

But everybody’s image of your relationship was wrong. When Theseus asked you out, you suspected ulterior motives since, as genuine as he seemed, he didn’t share the same type of feelings you had for him. You had trouble identifying what was off but one day, while you were walking with him to your class, you saw his eyes land on a girl and his expression changed. A starstruck expression crossed his face as his eyes filled with liquid adoration and his smile projected rays of hope. You glanced at the girl he was staring at and recognized her as Emily.

Theseus quickly changed his expression to cover up his feelings but you had already caught him staring. He had never looked at you with such passion and as much as you hated to admit, you felt a flame of jealousy. Of course, you didn’t say anything due to fear that you were just being paranoid. You tried to brush off the memory of Theseus staring at Emily but somehow the memory managed to find a way into your brain.

When you cuddled with him, you tried to focus on the feeling of his arms wrapped around you but you couldn’t help but wonder if he wished Emily was the one in your place. You were never one to be particularly insecure but loving somebody who wanted someone else wrecked your self-esteem.

That persistent feeling amplified when you caught him flashing heart eyes at Emily in the dining hall. Emily, miraculously, was still oblivious to Theseus’ feelings and hardly showed any interest in him. It wasn’t fair that he was deceiving you by agreeing to be in a relationship with you. Maybe in a way, he was trying to convince himself to not love Emily and to be content with somebody who genuinely cared about him.

Your discomfort, caused by your intrusive thoughts, was noted by Theseus as well. Although you claimed you were just feeling tired and stressed out, Theseus didn’t buy your act. Communication about feelings soon ceased to exist and you both grew distant, both physically and emotionally. But you both continued to pretend everything was normal.

A few people noticed how your relationship with Theseus was less pure than it was when it was at first. One of those people happened to be Theseus’ younger brother, Newt Scamander. After you tutored a younger student, you sat in the library, flipping through pages of your potions spellbook. Newt walked up to your table and sat down across from you.

“Hey Newt, how are you?” You greeted him apprehensively, wondering why he was approaching you.

“I’m doing well. So, um, I just wanted to talk to you about my brother, if that’s all right with you,” Newt replied, pausing to wait for your approval. As much as you hated any form of confrontation (hence why you refused to talk about Emily with Theseus), you agreed to hear him out, nodding to show your agreement. Newt continued, “Something has been off between you two. Theseus is acting sort of distant and has been more irritable. Do you have any idea why he might be acting like this?”

You were a little surprised to hear that Theseus was acting differently and more harsh to others because he seemed to act normal around you. You expected him to tell you if anything was wrong but since you caught him staring at Emily, you didn't know whether to trust him or not. You didn’t want to assume the worst so you answered, “Well, our relationship has been rocky lately. It might just be me being paranoid but we haven’t been as close lately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know if you know-this might make this situation more complicated but it’s necessary for you to know this-but I think Theseus might be in love with somebody else. He fell in love with Emily months ago and has been trying to convince himself he doesn’t love her because she doesn’t have feelings for him. Theseus had good intentions when agreeing to date you but I think now he realizes his unconscious motives behind his act,” Newt winced slightly at how frank his explanation was, his grimace wrinkling his freckles. His eyes were sympathetic and surprisingly, your reaction was contained. While this information was novel and stung, Theseus’ behavior made a lot more sense now.

Pinpointing your feelings was difficult but you identified a couple prominent ones: regret, frustration, and disappointment. Putting your emotions into words was difficult but you managed to ask, “So, what does this mean?”

“I mean, you both are unhappy with being in this relationship and a relationship is all about being with somebody who brightens up your day. So, keep that in mind and make a decision. What happens in your relationship should be your call, not mine,” Newt reasoned, glancing at your hands briefly. You looked down at them yourself and found that you had unknowingly been folding the ends of the textbook pages while talking with Newt. You closed the book with a dull thud. Clearing your throat to try to clear your mind.

“Thanks for talking with me. I’ll think about what to do,” You managed a small smile as you stood up, grabbing the textbook off the wooden table. Later that night, you had trouble sleeping despite the dorm being extra quiet. You stayed up, wondering what to do and finally came to a decision to tell Theseus what you believed would be the best for both of you.

The next day, on your way to lunch, you spotted Theseus walking with a couple of his friends, laughing as he clutched his textbooks close to his chest. The light streamed through the giant glass panes and seemed surrounded Theseus. Quickly moving past students to get to him, you rehearsed the script you prepared last night in your head for the third time that day.

“Hey! Do you guys mind if I talk with Theseus for a quick minute?” You asked, smiling in an attempt to seem lighthearted and cheery. Theseus’ friends all nodded and continued down the hall leaving Theseus behind to talk to you.

“Is everything all right?” Theseus worriedly questioned, his brows furrowing together to form an expression of concern. The care in his gorgeous eyes made you briefly reconsider your choice but you decided to follow through with your plan anyway.

“No, not particularly. Listen, I know how you feel about Emily and I’ve been thinking about our relationship a lot. It seems like it’s not going to work out because you care about somebody else. I think breaking up will be the best option for both of us. I want you to be happy so go be with Emily,” You explained earnestly, keeping your eyes on his, even if it scared the lights out of you to confront people.

“Thank you so much for understanding,” Theseus hugged you tightly and from his tone, you could tell he was tearing up.

“Of course,” You hugged him back, knowing that you would move on eventually. After all, if you truly cared about somebody, you would do anything to make sure that they would end up happy.

go to my fantastic beasts page on my tumblr to find more fantastic beasts fics or search the tag #samfb for more fics by me!

search the tag #sam’s songfic series for more songfics in this series!

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fandomn00blr · 5 years

Text

Dread Moon, Chapter 9 Excerpt

[Oh look! Finally a direct reference to the name of this thing...in chapter 9 (lol!). This quickly turned into a fic about the group therapy the Kirkwall crew desperately needed after DA2...rescuing Dorian and foreshadowing the revelations in Trespasser have just become plot devices for getting everyone back together to talk through their shit. And I’m not that sorry.]

...

The journey from Cumberland took them just short of five days, pushing themselves and their mounts as hard as they could, and stopping to rest for only a few hours each night. Evelyn and Cullen were an incredibly efficient team when it came to setting up their tent and taking full advantage of the limited time to rest. The others, however, seemed to struggle more and more the closer they got to home.

“Oooooh, look!” Merrill cooed, as she laid her bedroll out on the ground. “There’s a Dread Moon rising over the Vinmarks tonight!”

“A what?” Hawke asked, still struggling to set up her tent. Fenris had accused her of being incapable of doing so, and she’d insisted on doing it herself tonight out of a stubborn desire to prove him wrong.

“It’s what the Keeper used to call it when a full blood moon rose near the constellation Fenrir…” Merrill reminisced. “You know, ‘the wolf’...over there!” She pointed to the cluster of stars just above the giant reddish moon.

Hawke turned her head sideways, then tried in the other direction. “I don’t see a wolf.”

“You don’t see his cute little snout? His seven beady little eyes? His long bushy tail?”

“You had me at cute little snout…” Anders smirked at Fenris, who was doing his best to ignore him while he stood, arms crossed, waiting, as instructed, for Hawke to set up their tent on her own.

“So this portends some kind of disaster, I take it?” Fenris sighed.

“Well, no. Not unless you believe in that sort of thing…” Merrill looked back quizzically at him.

“Do you, Fenris? Do you believe in the Dread Moon curse?!” Anders’ eyes were wide and his tone was full of mockery.

“I believe you promised to return to your cave once Cullen had been healed…” he muttered.

“And Varric promised to help me find Justice.”

“Oh yeah! What did the Kid say about that?”

“Just a bunch of vague stuff before helping me heal Cullen. Not nearly as helpful as you might think for a spirit of compassion…”

Merrill frowned. “He told you to forgive yourself. You promised him you’d do that, remember?”

“Wow, imagine that. You not following through on something...” Fenris drawled.

“Oh, please spare me your hypocrisy!” Anders gathered up his bedroll and began to walk away from them.

“Wait...forgive yourself?” Hawke had pretty much abandoned her efforts with the tent. “It seems like the whole rest of the world has...how have you not?”

Anders gave her an exhausted eye roll before wandering off into the dark with an audible sigh.

Hawke looked to Merrill, who looked suddenly wounded. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought it up! I just...”

“Oh no, Daisy. You should. Blondie needs to hear it from somebody. Better you than...well, anyone else, really.”

“But he’s our friend! We need to help him. The spirit...Cole...he said that Justice left because he thought we might forgive him if he did. So it’s our fault, really, that he’s so unhappy!”

“Yeah, fine...I guess.” Varric shrugged, sounding unconvinced, as he turned his attention back to helping with setting up the tent he and Bull had been sharing since Fenris had joined Hawke in his.

Fenris, meanwhile, had been quietly watching Anders as he walked off into the forest, grumbling animatedly to himself.

“Someone going to go after the Healer?” Bull asked.

“I’ll talk to him,” Fenris said.

Everyone turned and stared at him in shock.

“You?” Hawke asked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

Hawke continued to stare at him for a moment, trying to decide if this was some kind of deadpan joke, something she didn’t quite get. But when he stared back at her just as intensely, without a hint of sarcasm or wickedness, she nodded. “Ok. Yeah. Alright.”

“Good luck, Broody!” Varric called as Fenris disappeared into the darkness after the mage. Then he turned and gave Hawke a pitiful look. “Really...let me help you with that tent. This is embarrassing.”

“Promise not to tell Fenris?”

“Yeah...” he chuckled.

...

“You know Merrill is trying to help you,” Fenris said, as he caught up with Anders. “Right?”

“And what are you trying to do? Make me feel worse?”

“No. Just trying to help you see past your idiotic self-loathing, I guess.”

“Oh, please...you hate yourself as much as I do!”

“Yes, and I...I’ve actually been working on that. It’s easier with friends, I’ve found.”

“Friends? How nice for you. Varric certainly seems to think I should be dead. Hawke gets irritated with me every time I speak. And if she feels that way, Maker knows what you must think of me. And every time I so much as think of the possibility of running into Aveline, I think I might die of a heart attack.”

“If any of us actually wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Anders muttered.

“Give Varric and the others some time. He loves this Maker-forsaken city. But it’s better now, whether he would like to give you any of the credit for that or not. The whole world is better off because of what you set in motion.”

Anders was speechless. He had expected Fenris to tell him to get his shit together or leave, just like he had five years ago. He was certainly not expecting this. And he hadn’t prepared a defense for the unlikely scenario in which Fenris admitted he was actually right about something.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see that before,” he continued. “We all just thought you’d gone insane, lost control...and to me, personally, it felt like you’d cheated.”

“Cheated?” Anders was confused. “At what?”

“I was doing everything I could to keep my anger in check, to keep from lashing out about all the things that had been done to me, and then there you went, blowing up the Chantry. I could only imagine how good it must’ve felt, and I was jealous, really. Killing Hadriana,” he growled, “then Danarius...hadn’t felt like enough.”

Fenris stopped himself. He took a deep breath, and his whole body, which had gotten tense as he spoke of his former torturers, relaxed. “But I’ve come to realize, even after losing count of how many slavers we’ve killed over the years, that nothing could have been enough back then. I thought it was about revenge for you, too, because that’s all I really understood. But I see now...it was bigger than that.”

“I don’t know…” Anders whispered. “With Justice, I was so certain that what I did was right. That what we were working towards justified it all. But without him...I don’t know who I am and why I’m even still here.”

“Well, it turns out, you’re still a pretty decent healer. Even Cullen can appreciate that.”

Anders glared at him. “I was prepared to die for my actions, for Justice. But then Hawke...she spared my life. I still don’t know why. I have spent a lot of time being angry at her for that. For forcing me to live with my actions...with myself. When she knew...she knew that deep down, I was a coward! And that this fate for me would be far worse than death!”

Fenris was quiet, collecting his thoughts, choosing his words more carefully now than he had been before, because he knew he needed to get this part right if there was ever going to be any hope of reconciliation among his friends. “Hawke didn’t do it to punish you. She did it because she couldn’t kill you, Anders.” He didn’t like speaking for others, but the two of them could probably never have this conversation on their own. “None of us could. You were...you are, above all else, our friend.”

Anders looked at him, wishing he could argue. Wishing he could think of something mean or spiteful to say in response. But the corners of his eyes were filling up with tears, and if he so much as opened his mouth to speak, he was sure he would suddenly be sobbing in the arms of someone he had convinced himself utterly despised him.

Fenris’ eyes softened a little when he realized the message was finally starting to sink in, and that very nearly broke Anders anyway.

But thankfully, Fenris spoke again, giving him a reprieve. “I remember what it was like to be alone, to be alive when I didn’t want to be, or at least didn’t think I deserved to be. I wasted nearly a decade convincing myself I had to keep others away. Try not to be as stubborn and stupid as I was.”

“But Fenris…” Anders was still staring earnestly at him. But the tears in his amber eyes had turned into mischief. “...that’d be impossible!” His mouth curled into an obnoxious little grin, and it took all of Fenris’ willpower not to hit him.

“Yes, fine. Deflect with your shitty sardonic humor. I suppose I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

Anders laughed feebly, more relieved than amused. “You are a bit out of practice, it seems.”

...

#dragon age #dread moon #my writing #writing collab #long post #most of the kirkwall crew #anders #merrill #fenris #they are best friends okay

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theoldlily · 6 years

Text

To Love the Sea

Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Warnings: angst, brief descriptions of smut and nudity.

A/N: I’m a little rusty, this really isn’t my best work at all, so please judge it kindly. Also, Thankyou to @sumafamouxx for helping me get my act together, and actually make this account in the first place.

James Buchanan Barnes had once met the sea and it was, without a single doubt, the most precious memory of his entire life.

It was not particularly special, the way they had come to know each other, but it was strangely momentous in its own way. After all, how could he have known that it would have such an impact on his life? It was not even an out of the ordinary day, the hot Spanish sun beat down upon the crowded streets of Valencia, and James had to squint to keep the rays from glaring into his eyes.

It wasn’t an electrifying, heart stopping, moment in time when their eyes briefly met, nor was there any immediate sensual chemistry threatening to explode. No, what struck James so much was how ordinary it was, like the coolness of lovely frothy waves lapping against a sandy shoreline. It was a refreshing breath of air, and he couldn’t help but go and pursue whatever this feeling was.

She was an artist, that much was obvious from the various paintings surrounding her stall, but my god, was she the best one James had ever seen. Not that he was an expert on the subject, but he knew what made a painting truly stand out from just a pretty picture. Or maybe that was just his attraction simply speaking, but he chose not to dwell on it too much.

“Good morning,” he greeted politely, the left corner of his lip curling upwards ever so slightly, a happy twinkle in his cerulean eyes.

“Morning, sir,” she smiled, showing just little sliver of her pearly white teeth. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

James shrugged his shoulders at first, then his right hand softly patted the painting that had caught his eyes the most when he caught sight of her stall. It was an oil painting on canvas, of a rocky seaside with enormous crystalline blue waves clashing against the shoreline, with white seagulls fluttering about in the sky above the ocean. It was not as grand as some of her other pieces, but he took a liking to it anyways, probably because it wasn’t as noticeable as the rest.

“How much for this one?” He inquired, flipping it around for her to see.

She smiled sweetly, albeit a little wistfully, and James suddenly wanted to know everything there was to know about that painting.

“Ah, a little gem among treasure,” she grinned, her fingers gently caressing the paint strokes on the canvas. “I was wondering when someone would take an interest.”

“I think it’s nice,” James said quite plainly, cringing internally when he thought of a thousand other better words to describe it.

She hummed in agreement, placing her left palm across her cheek as she thought, and James took this tiny moment to purely admire her. The strands of her beautiful tousled hair falling out of place, two simple silver rings glinting on her left index finger, her smooth and even skin tone against her radiant eyes.

“Twenty five euros,” she suddenly stated, unknowingly pulling him out of his train of thoughts of admiration for her.

“Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly, almost sure in his head that it must be worth much more than that.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and James decided then and there that he didn’t like that look upon her face at all, and would do whatever it took to take it away.

“I know the worth of my work, sir,” she said tensely, her lips pursed together, annoyance flashing like a warning sign in her eyes.

James shook his head quickly, “Please no, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just meant that it looks like it’s worth at least twice as much.”

She nodded her head in understanding as she realized what he was trying to say, the irritation quickly fading away from her facial expression, and James almost sighed in relief.

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, an almost teasing tone lacing her words. “But I’m not here to make more money than I deserve.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard somebody say that,” James chuckled, and she laughed pleasantly as she took the wad of cash from him, not forgetting to kindly thank him for his purchase.

James didn’t want to go just quite yet, he really wanted - no, needed - to see this ethereal woman again. There was a little niggling sensation in the back of his head, warning him not to act like a lovestruck fool, but he ignored it in favor for the relishing joy that came with him throwing all caution to the wind.

“Do you mind if I come to collect this later?” He asked earnestly as he possibly could. “I’m sort of running late for work, and I don’t want it to be at the mercy of someone’s spilt coffee.”

That last part was not a lie, James really was running late for work, but that was the last thing that mattered in his mind. She gasped in mock horror, her hands dramatically hovering over her mouth, before she laughed heartily. James heart beat just little faster in his chest, trying to thump it’s way out of his chest to put on a show that was just meant for her.

“Sure thing,” she chirped. “I close at four though, so be back a little bit before then yeah?”

He smiled charmingly, assuring her that he would do just as he was told, giving her a little wave of farewell as he left while reality caught up to him, and he was off running towards his priorities.

-•-

James Buchanan Barnes had once fallen in love with the sea, and it was as liberating as birds falling from the tallest treetops, only to spread their wings towards the sky at the last moment.

James felt like a bird, and she was his wind, lifting him up and taking him to places he had never been to before. After their first meeting at her stall, he had come back at precisely four o’clock to pick up the painting, and insisted on helping her bring her other items back to her apartment.

It was all perfect fairy tales and rainbows after that.

He took her to a quaint little restaurant beside the docks for their first date, famous for its fresh lobster and oysters, and almost did a double take when she admitted that she had never tried oysters. They laughed good naturedly as she ungracefully slurped them down, not that James minded that so much anyways, and she shyly covered the rosy blush spreading on her cheeks and nose as he smiled at her with his eyes full of emotion.

He walked her home afterwards, respectfully keeping his hand on the small of her back, and not once was too forward. James was used to the lustful side of a relationship, he was no stranger to sex and loosing himself in the pleasure, but he didn’t want to go down that path with her. She was different, a strong and mature woman who didn’t deserve the tasteless side of him who loved to please women. She deserved all of him, every fiber of his being, and he was ready to give to that to her whenever it felt just right for the both of them.

They met each other everyday when he finished work, and when she finished closing up her stall, and more often than not, they ended up at one or the others place. Well, James had his own house, but he didn’t mind going to her run down apartment block either. He was not a snob, much to her delight, and relished in being a part of her life just a little bit more. Finding out all the bits and pieces about her, funny habits and quirks - what made her human - was one of his new favorite pastimes.

James realized he was falling in love with her when she was painting.

She was sitting on top of his newspaper covered carpet, her only tools were her various paint colors and a single paintbrush. He couldn’t see what she was doing, her back was against his crème suede sofa, while he sat behind her with his legs comfortably spread.

“What are you working on this time?” He asked softly, his eyes flickering from the TV screen to her.

She lightly smacked his thigh, and he let out a sound of protest, and she giggled, “Not yet.”

“Fine,” he said in a resigned tone, his curiousity growing by the minute.

After a good half an hour, she excitedly clapped her hands together, then hastily checked to see if any paint had splattered on the sofa. James snuck a peak at her canvas, and she glanced up at him as he did so, judging his reaction.

The painting was simple. She had used acrylic paint, and it was just a single picture of a pair of blue eyes - his. From the slight curl of his thick dark eyelashes, to the little wrinkles beside the corners of his eyes when he smiled too hard, and to the deep blue storm held within his irises.

“Do you like it?”

He nodded his head vigorously, gently grabbing both sides her head and planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. She grinned widely, he could feel her pulse quicken as his hands lightly rested against her neck, while an attractive red blush graced her whole face.

If he had to call the blissful time they had together after that, it would be the honeymoon stage. They never left one another’s side, it almost pained him to leave her to go to work in the morning, even though he would see her again only a few hours later. That was what James thought love meant. The constant need to be around each other, to have his heart beat so hard against his ribs it hurt whenever he held her, to have his eyes constantly search through the crowd for her - even when he knew she wouldn’t be there. He thought this was how love was supposed to go, and who was there to tell him otherwise?

-•-

James Buchanan Barnes had once made love to the sea, and it was nothing how he thought it would turn out. It was all cold and violent, beating against him with all the cruelty of the Devil, drowning him beneath churning waters as he tried to swim towards the light.

It was silly really, how it began. James never really understood how it even begun, but it did. One day, she was kissing him and holding him, saying she returned his feelings wholeheartedly, and then, there was nothing at all.

He couldn’t help but think he’d done something wrong, and he tried to correct all the possible options he came up with. Or maybe he hadn’t done something? Perhaps he had to figure it out, and then everything would be alright again. His heart started hurting, and not because it was filled with love anymore. He felt sick and empty, like a porcelain doll in a glass box. His family and coworkers noticed a change in him, but said nothing, because he was a grown man now, and men are supposed to take care of themselves.

Had she been having an affair? James chatistised himself for even thinking so, she was too honest of a person - it defied everything that she believed in - and he knew that all too well. But still, the love in his veins was turning to poison, and he couldn’t help but grow angrier towards her, as she became a shell of the person he once knew.

His family was right, he is a man, and all men have their breaking points.

She was sitting at his dining room table, slowly eating a bowl of leftover paella, probably thinking about all the ways to make herself scarce, when he strode over and gripped her chair from behind. He saw her back freeze up, her fingers tightly grip the fork in her hand, and he felt a little guilty for scaring her - but his heart had steeled, and he no longer cared for her meager feelings anymore.

“Alright,” he started, his voice low and dangerous. “I don’t know what’s happening with you, but I’ve given you time to talk to me, and you still haven’t. I think it’s only fair if you explain why you’re treating me this way.”

She swallowed thickly, obviously nervous, but he didn’t care. He’d had enough of walking on eggshells around her at this point.

“I-I,” she stuttered. “I don’t know.”

James raised his eyebrows incredulously, and exclaimed, “What do you mean you don’t know? You’ve been silent for the past month, and you don’t know why?”

She was quiet for a moment, formulating an explanation in her head. James could see her gears working, and impatiently tapped his fingers against the table as he waited for her to try and speak to him again. It was messed up, but he relished in the feeling of being in control of himself around her, even if it had to happen under these circumstances.

“I’m like this sometimes,” she started, placing her fork neatly against the bowl. “I get into things, and sometimes I think I know what I want, but then I ignore that part of me that says I’m wrong.”

James was beyond confused, not understanding how this was relevant at all, but she continued before he had the chance to interject.

“But then I met you, and I was so convinced that I wanted you. That you were finally the thing that was right for me, that you were made to fit me, but there’s still that part of me that’s telling me I’m wrong. That you’re not what I need, and that I don’t need you to make it easier, and I don’t want to feel that, because I feel I do need you-“

He shut her up with a sloppy wet kiss, fueled with the fire of his rage, and stoked with the smoke of her confusion. A flurry mess of tongues and hands and bodies, and there was nothing right about it when they became lost in each other that night. James gave her everything he had in him, trying to push his love for her back inside, but she would snap out of it and fight harder against him. She was only focused on the fight, the cruel battle for dominance between them, only caring about keeping up the illusion that she was the one in control of it all.

Afterwards, he thought she looked as if she was a painting. Her body was like water dripping from sharp icicles that melted against the burning heat of his skin, almost too painful for him to bear. Her breaths were irregular, the rise and fall of her chest clearly visible beneath the sheets. Her eyes were closed, and James didn’t know if she was awake or dreaming anymore.

He didn’t even know if he was alive, or completely numb on the inside.

-•-

James Buchanan Barnes had once understood what the puzzle of the sea was, and he had hated himself for years afterwards, for playing the part of the naive little boy playing with matches. He was just a another lost sailor in the ocean, trying to follow the trail of stars back towards home, only to be lulled into the dark depths of the ocean by the song of a siren.

He was clearing his house the morning after she left him, trying to rid himself of every trace of her scent and ghostly presence. Goddamn her to hell and back, she was the worst human being James had ever met in his life. He cursed her again and again, vigorously tearing apart the canvas painting of his eyes that he had found unceremoniously dumped in his garbage disposal, before violently throwing it straight on the floor after it almost felt like it was burning holes in his hands.

James was a man in pain who was learning, just as the rest of us are, how to process his loss. He didn’t know how he could forget someone who had changed his whole persona, let alone go back to the person he was before - not that he even remembered who that guy was anymore. If this is what love was, then James certainly didn’t want to feel it anymore, or go through any of it again. He opened the windows, the whispers of her ghost passing right through him and up into the sky, and clenched his fists tightly to his sides. It wasnt until he zeroed in on her painting of the sea hanging on the wall besides his TV, a haunting and horrifying piece of evidence of the crime scene, that it all clicked into place so smoothly in his mind.

James realized she was his sea, the limitless soul that was exactly what he wanted to believe was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was limitless, able to travel wherever she wanted to go, but completely incapable of bringing him with her. She was affected by the turning of the clock, of it standing still, and becoming forever trapped in a tank with no way out. She was violent and cruel, her anger was exactly like the waves crashing against the rocks of the painting, but she knew how to be a soothing presence when she wanted to. She needed comfort, she was still only human after all, and to know that she was needed by someone. She wanted to feel important, to be as powerful as a tsunami, to not be afraid to show who she really was - but could not, because then everybody would be afraid.

She was uncontrollable, and he wasn’t the one to attempt to control her. James had left her to be as free as she wanted to be, because that’s what he thought was what she wanted, and that was probably his mistake. Or not, maybe he just wasn’t enough for her. Maybe she wanted the moon instead, not a little sailor who she could douse into nothingness within a second. Perhaps she wanted to fly up and reach for the sky, to touch the stars and the luminous silver moon, who could tell her exactly who she was supposed to be to finally feel happy. He was only a man, who was he compared to the moon of her dreams? He suddenly felt small and insignificant, like a little speck of dust floating about in the universe.

James left the painting where it was, his home bearing it like a battle scar, and resumed the arduous task of picking up the broken pieces of himself - resigning himself to the fact that he was never going to be special enough to be the moon.

- Fin -

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky-barnes-x-reader #my writing

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lolirockvevo · 6 years

Photo

There were a few things Doug could have been doing with his time, instead of sitting in this diner with Iris and two of the more popular youtubers this side of Sweden.

None of them were important. He couldn’t tell you why Iris had asked him to do this, but he was ready.

“So, ah, who starts?” He had his phone up, ready to hit play when he remembered to ask who begins this interview. Is it him? Iris? One of the twins??

Iris can’t help but snort, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Well… you two did win the raffle. So…” She waved a hand for the twins to start.

Mephisto was bouncing in his seat, and he raised his hand immediately. “I’ll start, if that’s alright?”

Iris nodded to him and Praxina pulled out her own phone to begin texting and- if she were asked- take notes.

Iris flashed a smile. “Whenever you’re ready!”

Doug pressed record, and… Mephisto went from a goof to a charming goof. He smiled at the camera like he was born to be on film or something.

“Hello, -ah, I have no idea what you call your audience. I guess The Pack will be watching this, so… hi guys!”

Doug didn’t know how he implied capital letters with his voice, but he wanted to know now.

Iris couldn’t help but to be captivated too. “Well, I don’t know about the girls but I’m pretty partial to Lolirockers…” She offered a smile to the camera as well, not unused to it. “Hey there!”

“Right!” Mephisto laughed, and nudged his sister.

“Praxina and I were invited out here for an interview with Iris, and I wouldn’t mind answering some questions too if you and Doug have them!”

Iris nodded with him, eyes gravitating back to him. “Of course, wouldn’t want it to get too one sided, right?” Mephisto nodded earnestly, smiling at the camera again and if Doug were a little less straight or a little more of a romantic he had a feeling his knees would be weak. Damn.

“So, Can you share any plans you have for the band? Like songs or genres or costume ideas?”

Iris leaned forward onto her elbows, beginning to fiddle with her fingers. “Well we have a lot in mind and a lot planned, and we currently have a project that we’ve actually been working on for the last year but, since it’s not finished yet, haven’t hyped yet. And it’s kind of under wraps but if you’re interested I can give you a little hint…” She flashes a grin, knowing that he’d be interested.

Anyone with eyes and working WiFi knew about his lolirock obsession. It was probably the main reason people over twenty were into them at all, and absolutely the only reason they’d gotten as big as they had. He was so honestly excited about them and their music… it was nice. He was nice. Mephisto was nodding along before she was even done talking.

“Oh, really? Well, I certainly can’t say no to a hint! What is it?”

Doug didn’t know people could be that eager and genuine. He was like a puppy. What the hell. Praxina leaned back in her chair to snap a picture of her brother for their instagram, too amused with this situation. Part of her wondered how he’d react if the girl knew of his crush… but at the same time, no chance she’d be that cruel.

“It’s going to be a 3 disk special album.” Iris held up three fingers, then put one down with each name she followed it with. “Auriana, Talia, Me.” Mephisto was almost literally vibrating with excitement. Doug didn’t think anyone could be that excited about Iris and her band, they were good enough singers, sure, but… jeez. Iris couldn’t help but giggle and lean back in her seat, pulling her smoothie up for a sip. “Sound fun? We have no when it’s going to be done. In all honesty… it’s mostly finished, but there’s one major hangup.” “What’s that?” Mephisto paused, after the question left his mouth. “Wait, no, you only said a hint, sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head. “No, no, it’s fine. Doesn’t give too much away to tell you what I’m missing… I think?” Iris glanced at the other two for help, and Praxina merely shrugged. “Anyways I’m kind of stuck. It’s fun to do an- full disclosure- experimental solo set of songs, but it’s also been pretty hard for me. Can’t find the perfect…” She bit her lip and waved her hand, looking for the word.

“Partner? Sound?” Praxina volunteered. Mephisto nodded immediately.

“I get that, I have a few songs I haven’t uploaded because I can’t get the mixing to work, sometimes a fresh pair of eyes- or ears, I guess- really helps.” He shrugged.

“But what can you do but wait until everything clicks into place?” Iris laughed once, nodding. Of course he understood. “My big hangup, I guess, is that all the songs I wrote ended up being duets. And the whole point is not to sing them with Talia and Auriana, and it’s not like I had anyone in mind when I wrote them so… it’s been interesting. Talia is done recording hers, and Auriana is almost done.” “Do you have anyone you could do duets with? Did the other girls have some people you could also use?” Mephisto tilted his head, curious but trying to be helpful.

Doug was honestly surprised the guy didn’t offer himself. So Doug decided to do it, instead. He swiveled the camera to face Iris and spoke in his most Serious Question voice.

“Why don’t you get Python here to do it, Iris? I’ve heard he’s pretty good.”

Iris had been well aware of his singing abilities, and maybe she was kind of hoping to hear that answer, but she wasn’t going to wrestle it out of him. “I- um- I wouldn’t mind that. The girls sang with some friends, some other musicians, but nobody I really clicked with, I guess?” She laughed awkwardly.

If Praxina didn’t know better, she’d say that the girl was embarrassed. Flustered. She wasn’t quite sure which one, or both, but she did know that this conversation was straight out of one of her brother’s more dry dreams. Mephisto patted Praxina, partly because he could sense her making a terrible joke in her head and also be needed to know that this was really happening. Oh god.

“I well, um, if you think that’d work, I don’t see why I wouldn’t want to, I mean-” Iris nodded slowly, then faster. “Yeah, you know what, I think this would be super cool. As long as you’re okay with it, right?”

Praxina glanced at her brother. He was going to say yes, he’d better say yes. She’d say yes for him, actually, he always babbled too much. “He says he’d love to.” She nodded. Mephisto had to clamp down on the excited squeak that wanted to come out of his mouth, and he nodded vigorously as Praxina agreed for him. Best sister, good friend. Praxina rubbed between his shoulders and flashed a smile at the pop princess. “He’s in. Hey, why don’t you two swap numbers? And Doug, ask a question now.” Doug moves the camera to focus back on the twins, grinning a little.

“What’s next for you two, then? Aside from the whole song, thing. That’s been pretty well established.”

Mephisto wheezed, as Praxina pet him. He needed to remember to breathe, god. Okay. Uh. “Well, we’re keeping up with our Let’s Plays and trying out some new games- and more exciting, we got a sponsor! Right, Phi?” Mephisto sat up straighter.

“Right, yes, there’s a couple of videos I’ve done that’ll be uploaded soon where our new sponsor is mentioned. I don’t… think we can say who? Can we? Do they care?” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if we do or don’t, I think.” “I should probably call LootCrate and ask…” Mephisto muttered, glancing at his phone and completely forgetting he was on camera.

Doug snorted. Iris’ eyes widened. “You got a sponsorship from LootCrate?” She couldn’t help but grin in excitement. Praxina on the other hand, rolled her eyes. Mephisto paused, glancing up.

“Oh, uh.. Yeah.” He glanced at Doug’s camera.

“I… guess I’ll find out if I wasn’t supposed to say anything until the videos went live later. Oops.” “Good job bro.” Praxina nudged him with her elbow. “You’re great at-” Her phone burst out with noise and her jaw clacked shut as the ringtone went off… ‘I Won’t Say I’m In Love.“

"Oh crap.” Mephisto’s head snapped up.

“What? Who is that? Why is that your ringtone for them?” Praxina hastily hit 'reject’ on the call from 'Gatorade- Is It In You ;)’ and turned to her brother. “Listen, I can explain.” “That’s not reassuring! You don’t do sappy stuff, unless you’re- you have a boyfriend.” “What? No, no.” Praxina held up a finger. “I don’t have feelings, I didn’t catch feelings. Nothing is happening!” “Your ringtone is a Disney love song!” Mephisto poked her shoulder.

“And that was a dirty Gatorade joke as a contact! Oh my god.” “That’s- it’s not what it looks like! You know I like Disney songs, and I like making jokes. Besides, I would have told you if it was serious!” “No you wouldn’t! You would hide it until I was also dating somebody, because you’re scared of me being jealous, for some reason!” Iris turned to Doug and made a 'cut this off’ motion, eyes wide as the twins continued fighting. Doug had been catching the action, but at Iris’s frantic motion he scrambled to cut the video short. Oops. Those two probably didn’t need their fight broadcast all over the internet… ah well.

#lolirock #iristo #praxaniel #iris #mephisto #praxina #doug

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forkanna · 6 years

Link

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTES: This is the last of the main oneshots! Minako and Usagi's story turned out very slightly longer than the others on accident, but it was purely a factor of not being able to wrap up the storyline it created as quickly. (Also, because the other senshi were all packed into the beginning bit, which made it a little longer haha). Definitely had nothing to do with my love of this or that ship more or less than any others.

What did you think? There's still my little bonus chapter to go, but I hope you all dug the storylines! Maybe someday in the future I'll try something like this again with a different fandom! The sky's the limit!

Act 5: Minako: What's In A Codename?

"You know, you're an even bigger pig than I am."

Minako Aino stuck her tongue out over her shoulder at Usagi. Luckily, she was comfortable enough with her new friends to be able to take that slight criticism, even if it was still a bit wounding. "Just because I invited you up here, and you and Ami and Rei decided that we 'needed' to clean my room, doesn't mean you get to judge me. Especially you!"

The other blonde pouted, flipping through the stack of shojo magazines. "Why 'especially me'?"

"Because you're a pointless waste of space," Rei said immediately with a long sigh. She and Ami were currently cramming all of her dirty clothes into a basket, and didn't look at all like they minded — but Rei certainly minded that Usagi wasn't doing her part. "Can you just hurry up and actually do something? I thought you wanted to help Minako."

"I do! I just… wanted to make sure these magazines were going to be put away in order!" As if this somehow proved her point, she poked the page she was open to. "Look! Yeah, this one goes after the other one!" Then she gathered up the manga and took them over toward Mina's shelf.

"Hopeless," she sighed, though she seemed mostly resigned.

"C'mon, I didn't say all that," Minako laughed as she stripped her bed of sheets so she could grab the shiki futon from on top of her Western platform bed and take it to the balcony and let it air out. "Just that you're a slob, too, so it's like the pot calling the kettle a pot."

Ami flinched slightly as she bundled the sheets in with the clothes. "You mean 'the pot calling the kettle 'black',' right?"

"Oh, is that how it went?"

"Sorry," Usagi groaned, actually straightening up the shelves now. Not that there was much to do, but she had left quite a few books lying around, and she felt bad that her fellow blonde had to work on that for her. "You're right, I'm not any better than this. But it's not easy being almost a high school student and a superhero!"

Having just put the basket in the hall, Rei came back over and slung an arm around Usagi's shoulders. "Like you actually do any of those things that well. Seriously, considering how much you slack off, you should have plenty of time left over to help a friend clean. OR clean your own room."

The criticism got Usagi puffing out her cheeks in annoyance. Rei and Ami laughed, and so did Minako, though she felt a little guilty about it. After all, she didn't know any of them all that well yet. At times, she felt like the odd woman out on the Senshi, even though that was silly when none of them had really had terribly long to establish friendships.

"Oh wow!" came a voice from deep in her closet. After a moment, Makoto appeared with a wallscroll of a popular band, index finger tapping on one of the posing men. "This guy really looks like my old boyfriend! I wonder if it's him? Do you remember their names?"

Laughing nervously, Minako shrugged and said, "It was a promotional gift, I barely know a few of their songs. Do… you want that poster?"

The taller girl's green eyes lit up like emeralds in the sun. "Really? You mean it?"

"Sure! Take it, go nuts!" As Makoto squealed and jumped up and down, Ami having to duck out of the way of her elbow, Minako giggled and took the mattress outside.

This really was so much better. Ever since she got back from England, she had felt like she had no life. School was fine, and so was her continual work around town under her alter ego to roll back the crimes of the citizenry, but that could all be classified as her 'professional' life. She didn't have any friends. After all, almost none of her old friends from elementary school were going to her junior high, and the few that were no longer really had much in common with the weird, Western-looking blonde. She got called hafu a lot, because she was Japanese but looked so American, and spoke English so well. In all honesty, it was a little depressing not having a core group of pals to hang around with — play video games, watch movies, go to the summer Obon festival and watch the fireworks.

But becoming a Sailor Senshi changed all that. Now at last, she could finally go back to a normal girl's level of companionship and bonding. Even if it was because she was fighting the forces of evil alongside other young women with magic running through their veins.

After hanging her futon on the balcony, she came back in to hear the sounds of squabbling. Again. Rolling her eyes and heaving a weary sigh, she entered her room and braced for impact.

"You did too try to kill her plants and you know it!"

Rei was already in full rage mode, fists clenched at her sides. "I never claimed to have any idea how to take care of houseplants! We all agreed to do our best, and Ami kept them from dying in the end!"

"But you act like I have no responsibility, and then you do stuff like that!" Usagi shot right back at her. "That's what I'm saying isn't fair!"

"Look. I never said you were the worst person in the world, and I was perfect. Just that you're way less responsible than any of the rest of us!"

"Lay off her!" Makoto put in, stepping between the two jousting junior high girls with her taller, more imposing frame. "Usa-chan is fine the way she is, even if you don't think so, Rei! So just shove it!"

Ami was definitely already distressed, and put a soothing hand on Rei's arm. "Please, can't we get along? This in-fighting never solves anything — no one here is a bad person, no one here is 'lazy'! Alright?"

"Sorry, Ami, but Usagi is definitely lazy. I'm not going to lie just to make her feel better!"

"Right!" Usagi burst out at Rei, eyes tearing up. "Because being nice to somebody just doesn't work for Rei Hino! Ohhhh no, that would involve caring about anybody but herself!"

"Of course I care! I care about all of you! And if I didn't care, didn't want you to be your best, I wouldn't bother to tell you what a selfish little brat you can b-"

"HEY!"

Everyone turned to look at Minako. When she realised she had their attention, she smiled as sweetly as she could. "I hate to be a bother, but can you keep it down before my mom gets in one of her moods about us being too rowdy? Like, just… bicker quieter."

Usagi immediately dipped her head very low, looking like she wanted to expire on the spot. "Sorry! Gosh, I wasn't even thinking about that…"

"Of course not," Rei sniped immediately.

"Neither were you, genius," Makoto grunted. That nearly got them all going again, but Ami dragged Rei to the other side of the room to begin working on the cluttered school desk. Turning to Makoto and Minako, their bun-headed leader clapped her hands together and bowed reverently.

"You two saved my life. I am eternally grateful."

"Oh, shush," Makoto snorted, waving a hand back and forth. Her cheeks had started to pinken slightly from being thanked so earnestly, which was probably why she tried to dismiss the sentiment. "Maybe you're a little irresponsible, but I mean, so is everybody in their own way. Rei gets a bug up her butt over nothing sometimes."

"I can hear you!" Rei hissed in a stage whisper. That time, Ami literally turned her head all the way around with her hand to point back at their task.

Meanwhile, Minako was sighing and turning back to her bedframe to fish things out from underneath it. "This is tough for me, because I actually like all of you guys. So when you fight, I don't feel… like I can make the right call, since I'm the new girl."

"But you're not!" Makoto assured her. "Like, you've been doing it the longest; it's us who are the newbies."

"I'm sorry, Mina-chan," Usagi was saying again. "Seriously, sometimes I let Rei get under my skin and forget to pay attention to the rest of you. Must be so annoying."

That shot straight to her heart, and she put a hand on Usagi's shoulder. "Not annoying. Just… you get emotional sometimes. Totally normal, since we're all fresh out of puberty and hormonal sometimes." Then over her shoulder, she shot, "Same goes for other parties involved."

"Alright, alright," Rei sighed, coming back to the middle of the room with a few books in her hands that were destined for the shelf. "Usagi, I'm sorry I lost my temper. Again."

"And I'm sorry I'm lazy and dumb," she countered. Minako was opening her mouth, but she cut her off, "No, I am! Can't help it sometimes, but I'm gonna try to be better. Okay?"

The two shook hands, and the feud ended.

"Thank Serenity," Artemis sighed as he and Luna padded in, white and purple fur standing out in stark contrast to each other. "You do know cats have sensitive ears, don't you? All that yakking could make a guy deaf!"

Makoto put her hand on her hips and looked down at them with a smirk. "And where were you two, anyway? Off nuzzling each other?"

Little known fact: cats from the Moon Kingdom can blush.

~ o ~

A few days after that, Minako was out with Makoto and Rei, shopping their little hearts out. Mostly, Rei wanted some help finding 'cuter' clothing; she owned a few nice things, but she spent so much time in her miko apparel that she felt like she had lost touch with the world of fashion. Makoto loved to dress the two of them up like dolls, since a lot of the things she wanted to buy for herself didn't come in her size — or they did, but the skirts rode up too high, or the blouses pulled in weird ways. And shoes were something of a nightmare. That really made Minako sad, so she resolved to try to get some clothes sent in from London that might fit her new teammate.

"Thanks for the help today," Rei told them as they made their way back on the bus, all smiles. "I finally feel like a girl again. And these jeans are so rad!"

"I'm just amazed I found some sandals today," Makoto said with a wistfully pleased smile. "A little tight, but at least I can wear them without wanting to die."

Giggling, Minako stood up and shouldered her purse. She herself had only one small bag. "I'm glad, too. Maybe we can hit another store next weekend."

"Wait, where are you going?" Rei asked. "This isn't your stop."

"It is today. I'm going to drop in on Usagi before I head home."

"Ohhh, I'd love to see Usagi," Makoto lamented, staring down at her bags. "But I bought too much. Plus I gotta get home and start on making bento for the next few days, or I'll never get it done."

"I can't, either." At the glare from the other two, she raised a hand. "Honest! Temple duties."

Nodding, Mina jogged to the door of the bus. "I'll send her your love! Later, guys!"

Their well-wishes in her ears, she hopped off at the stop. She'd never been to Usagi's house before; or she had, but only in the entrance once before they were all headed off elsewhere. Belatedly, she wondered if she should have called ahead or asked Usagi the last time they saw each other, but she also hadn't really been planning on it before that day, so it would have been a little difficult to predict her visit. Too bad those new cellular telephones were so expensive and cumbersome; it really would be so convenient to be able to call people wherever you were.

"Hello?" Mrs. Tsukino said when she opened the door, her slightly concerned look turning into one of pleasant surprise. "Oh, you're one of Usagi's friends, aren't you? Mina?"

"Minako Aino, okaasan," she told her with a polite bow, feeling the red bow atop her blonde head rustle from the movement. "Sorry to drop by out of the blue, but I was wondering if Usagi is home?"

Ikuko's hand went to her hip, a wooden spoon dangling from the fingers. Privately, Minako couldn't help thinking that Usagi's mother was quite lovely and put-together for a middle-aged housewife, her dark, wavy hair always coiffed and pristine whenever she saw her. She wondered what her secret was.

"Afraid she isn't; I think she and Naru are at the Game Center. But they've been gone all day if you'd like to come inside and wait for her. Shouldn't be too much longer with dinnertime being soon."

At first, she fully intended to turn down that offer. But then a little smile pulled at her lips. This was actually even better! "Well… alright, I will, if you're sure she wouldn't mind me hanging around her room?"

"I imagine not," the woman laughed, stepping aside for her to enter. As she closed the door and Minako stepped out of her shoes, she added, "Usagi used to always complain that nobody except Naru came to visit her. Now that Mizuno girl is over here often enough that I could almost swear she wants to be adopted!"

"Oh!" she giggled with a wide smile. "Now I feel bad I haven't come over before! Well, I hope she's back soon. Thanks!" Another little bow, and she clomped up the stairs.

"No problem!"

Letting out a breath of relief, she turned around to try and figure out which room belonged to Usagi. The one at the end of the hall was probably that of the parents, and there were three other doors that did not belong to the bathroom. Even Inspector Zenigata could have figured out the one with a knitted rabbit-head hung on the door was probably hers. Smiling to herself, she turned the knob and stepped inside.

"Hmm, where to start?" she breathed, looking around at the mess. It was almost the same as her own, but there was less food waste; she was right, Minako won the title of 'Slobbiest Senshi'. So she started picking up a few of the shirts and socks…

But that was as far as she got before it sank in. From the moment she had opened the door, something seemed a little off to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it immediately. Once she figured that out, she couldn't comprehend how on earth she had missed it.

Minako's face was everywhere.

Dropping the clothing, she gaped at the state of this room. Sailor V posters and wall scrolls, Sailor V pillows, Sailor V calendars, Sailor V figurines. A Sailor V pencil case sitting on her school desk, beside a handheld version of the Sailor V game. There was a lot more merchandise there than she had ever thought possible — than she even thought existed. Of course, given that she had a secret identity to protect, she couldn't simply sue these companies for cranking out all manner of items with her likeness on them without "outing" herself, so they popped up in any Akihabara shop. But she never in a million years imagined…

"Usagi," she breathed in horror. "You're an OTAKU."

Stumbling slightly on her way through the room, her fingertips brushed over a notebook with her face on it. A blanket, a backpack. She'd never used that backpack during classes, of course; she used the standard school satchel. So why even buy it?! Purely because it was yet another piece of junk with the happy-go-lucky smile and red eye-mask that everyone associated with her alter-ego? It almost made her angry, but in the context of Usagi owning this stuff…

It made her feel something else. More like hazukashii — a profound embarrassment, almost to the point of shame. One of her closest friends, someone she fought alongside against the Dark Kingdom, and her room was almost covered in pictures of her! Sure, they were ones freely available for anyone to buy, but…

Minako didn't know how long she had been sitting on the edge of Usagi's bed, despite staring up at the Sailor V clock in detached amazement, when she heard someone coming up the steps. She didn't react much, since she just assumed it would be Ikuko coming to check on her. Not Usagi herself, humming a little tune and throwing the door wide as she pranced in, then bumping it shut with her rear end before setting down her newest purchase on the low table in the middle of her room. She hoped and prayed it wasn't anything with Sailor V on it. Maybe it would just be a cute shirt. Or a Kodansha magazine, or some Pocky. Anything but…

Right at the moment Usagi noticed Minako there was when she saw it was a Sailor V duvet cover. Just about the biggest thing she could have acquired, once it was stretched over the actual duvet, and there it was between them both like the final nail in a coffin.

"O-oh!" Usagi squeaked, colour draining from her face. "Mina-chan! I… h-how did you get in here?"

"Your mom," she answered numbly.

"Cool! I mean, that's totally fine, I'm happy to see you! Um… been here long?"

"Maybe ten or twenty minutes. Not sure."

"Ah, that's not so bad."

"Yeah. Did you have fun at Game Center Crown?"

"Sure! And, um, after Naru left, I took a little detour on my way home…"

"I can see that."

The room got quiet for a few seconds. Minako drummed her fingers against her knee, and Usagi's feet shuffled nervously. Then she finally whispered, "Um… Minako…"

"Hm?"

"About… all this stuff…"

"Oh, it's fine," she said with a forced smile. "You're just… really into that Sailor V game, right? Always have been. I used to kind of go nuts for this one game, 'Lovely Fight'? It's… kind of older now…"

"Hey, I remember that one! The girl with all that awesome power-armour? Yeah, it was pretty fun. I think there's a machine in Crown still…"

"Kinda miss it, yeah."

Silence fell again. The longer this went on, the more she could see the redness blossoming in her friend's cheeks. Normally, Minako would feel bad about that, but not this time. It was just too weird. The whole situation, and being in that room surrounded by the merchandise wasn't helping.

"S-so um, what are you doing here, anyway? Not to be rude, just… I didn't think we had any plans."

"Oh. Well, um, I was going to clean your room to pay you back for cleaning mine. Like, 'one good turn saves nine', right?" That wasn't the correct phrase, but Minako couldn't remember how it went at the moment, so she moved on. "But I got, um, distracted."

"Y-yeah, I guess you would," she laughed nervously, trying to surreptitiously nudge the pencil case and the handheld game into the backpack without being too obvious. She failed, of course. "Like I said, this is just… y'know, n-not that important. I'm sorry you had to see the whole collection like this!"

"Really? Because, like…" Her open palm gestured to the posters on the wall. "It's kind of out in the open."

"Well, if you ever came up, I was gonna hide it all," she admitted, wilting slightly. "Since I couldn't predict how you'd, um…" In a quieter voice, she finished, "Are you mad?"

"Mad? No, not mad. Why would I be mad?"

"For somebody who's not mad, you're saying 'mad' a lot…"

Dropping the Sailor V throw pillow that had been sitting on her lap back on top of the other pillows, she stood up and gave an exaggerated shrug. "I mean, what's the point in feeling like that? You obviously don't hate me, or you wouldn't have my face on every available surface in here. So like, can't be mad about that!"

"But you're… upset? Disappointed? I don't know, Minako, help me!"

"Okay. Do you really want to know? I'm…" She had been so close to saying it: "disgusted". The very idea of one of her close friends having these things made her severely uncomfortable, and she wanted to disappear and forget she ever saw it. But Usagi looked so forlorn that she couldn't bring herself to do it. Still, she did ask.

"What?"

"I'm… just a little…" In the end, any word she chose was either not accurate, or too cruel. "I feel weird being in a room where my face is everywhere. That's all. So I guess it's fine that you have this stuff, even though I don't know why you'd want it, but I think I'm gonna go."

She had only taken a couple of steps before Usagi burst out, "Why I would have it? Is that what the problem is? I can tell you that! Don't go, Mina-chan!"

"Don't call me that anymore." The yip of pure pain from Usagi shot through her heart, so she turned and sighed. "Sorry. I'm probably overreacting, but this is just mondo bizarro! We know each other! Why would you want to… to sleep under a duvet with me on it?! Do you know what that sounds like?"

Now the blush got a lot worse as the implication sunk into Usagi's brain, and she stammered, "N-no, Minako, I promise I'm n-not a pervert, I don't- that isn't how I thought of you, seriously, it never was! B-but when I first became Sailor Moon, y-you were the only… I felt so lost, and scared, and like I couldn't do it, but I would t-try to be like you!"

"Like me?" she muttered, caught off guard by the idea.

"YES! Like, I already thought you were- well, no, that Sailor V was really tough and cool, and I liked the game and stuff, a-and I had a few of these things. But once I found out I had powers? Sometimes…" She took a deep breath, trying to find more courage even though she was shaking worse with each passing second, voice growing quieter. "Sometimes you were the only thing that got me through a fight! Trying to think of what you would do, remembering that… you would always win, a-and you looked perfect doing it, and that's what I wanted to be! And after that, I guess I did get a little obsessed with collecting Sailor V stuff, b-because it was like, a connection to you- or her!"

Though she was listening all along, the last part struck her as odd, and she had to shake off her daze. "Wait, wait. Why do you say it like that? I mean, I am Sailor V. You know that by now!"

"Not really! I mean… yeah, I know you are, but not in my mind, okay? I still see her as like, a character that I really looked up to! And then there's Minako, my friend, who's not the same; like, sometimes I do feel really lucky to be hanging out with you when I remember that's who you are, but n-not all the time! I swear!"

All of this sounded like double-talk and excuse-making to Minako. Especially with the way Usagi was blushing and sweating; she looked guilty, ashamed of herself. Just like any nerdboy who had been caught with a body pillow of his favourite idol… by the idol herself.

"Really? Do you swear?" Minako stepped a little closer, leaning so their faces were an inch apart. Usagi gulped, head drawing back a fraction of an inch but not daring to step backward or try to push her away. "Because I do like you as a friend, Usagi, but now I'm starting to think you might be a… yuri."

That got her to pause, shocked. Her blue eyes flicked down toward how close they were and back up again. Minako took another step, backing her all the way up to the edge of the desk. "Me?! Into Girls' Love? N-no, it isn't… I've n-never…" But she wasn't trying very hard to protest.

Suddenly, Minako felt a slight possibility that there might be something to her joking accusation. And instantly, she regretted making it. Mostly, she had been hoping that if she teased Usagi a little more, she might feel bad about making her so uncomfortable and promise to stop buying up Sailor V merchandise. Even if she didn't, she could at least show her the effect it had on her friend, and maybe she'd be more sensitive to the situation. But if Usagi really was interested in her beyond simple companionship…

"It's okay," she suddenly whispered, gulping hard. Usagi had to know that she didn't mean what she had said, and that she certainly didn't think a collection of random junk was worth destroying their friendship over. "Sorry for being so… w-well, I'm sorry. But don't worry about it; we can keep this between us."

"Between us?" she breathed softly. "It's really okay?"

"Yeah. I mean… yeah, I might have flipped out a little at first, but now… y-yeah, I'm okay with it. You can't help if you let it get a little out of hand."

Usagi nodded, wide blue eyes blinking a few times as she leaned a little closer. "Mina-chan… I can't believe you really don't… a-and I know you aren't Sailor V, I know that. Or you are, but y-you're not the same person that I used to feel so… I'm not an otaku, I know the difference between… fantasy and reality."

"Fantasy, huh?" Her mouth twitched into a slight smile, and she could tell Usagi was watching it. "What kind of fantasies did you have?" Maybe this would even be cute; something about a very new Sailor Moon ready to fight alongside her "senpai" — even if she didn't really feel like much like a soldier of a higher rank, since they were all the same age. After all, she'd felt the same way about Wonder Woman when she was reading her comics during her stay in London.

What she didn't expect was for Usagi to lower her eyes and whisper, "Just… meeting her, I guess? Getting to ask her how she made it look so easy? I d-don't know. But… meeting you as Venus was way better. Like, I'm so happy you're my friend… s-so I don't want you thinking that some silly girl-crush matters to me, okay? Please tell me you understand." Her voice got even quieter as she urged, "Please…"

Two words among all the others took her breath away. "Girl-crush?"

"Y-yeah. I mean, just because I thought Sailor V was massively cute — I mean, like all girls look up to older girls, right? Come on, I didn't imagine you putting my head in your lap and petting my hair or anything!" She tried for a laugh, but it sounded so forced and grating that it was clearly fake. Just like her last statement.

"Like this?" Her hand came up to fall on Usagi's hair, gliding along it gently. Usagi shivered, but didn't react that much otherwise, and she drew her fingers away immediately. "Sorry. I, um, now I feel stupid — that wasn't supposed to be teasing you for it, I promise!"

Her head shook from side to side, flashing her a small smile. "Nah, it's okay! I just… well, it's not really her. I'm not kidding, I really don't see Sailor V just looking at you; I see my gal pal, Mina-chan. S-so you don't have to feel so awkward about… like…" Her hand gestured to the posters, the duvet cover. "I know it might not make a lot of sense to you, but I'm totally serious about that. You're you, and she's her. To me."

That gave her an idea. A very odd, very ludicrous idea, and she was fairly certain it was also a bad one. But she decided she might as well try it. As things stood now, if she didn't find out what the difference would be, she would probably always walk around expecting Usagi to turn into some mouth-breathing perv at any moment. And she didn't want that. Not with her good friend and comrade.

"Hey," she started, stepping back. "I wanna try something. Can you, um… close your eyes for a sec?"

"Huh?" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you gonna hit me?"

"Who am I, Rei?! Nothing like that. I promise. Just… try it, and keep 'em closed." With a shrug, the bun-headed girl slapped her hands over her eyes. Then Minako took out her compact; a tool she had not used in quite some time. Raising it toward the ceiling, she called out, "Crescent Moon Power, TRANSFORM!"

As the room filled with light, she could hear Usagi cry out, "Whaa?!" but she didn't peek. After the swirling of invisible winds subsided, she still covered her face tightly.

"You can look now."

When Usagi lowered her hands, she saw her idol standing before her. Minako hadn't donned the Sailor V outfit in quite some time; she didn't need it when working with the other Senshi. Not that there was a wealth of difference between that and the Venus outfit, other than the eye-mask; a few details on the suit barely worth mentioning. Originally, she had thought the mask would help maintain her secret identity, but that was before Artemis told her about the "aura" she and the others had that helped keep ordinary people from realising who they were.

The difference was immediate. Usagi was still blushing at a similar level, but it was very easy to see the difference in why she was blushing. Before, it had been due to having her "hobby" found out, and feeling guilty about her friend's involvement. Now…

"It's really you," she breathed softly. Then she shook her head out and laughed. "God, I sound dumb. I know it's you! I just… well…"

"Hello, young lady!" she said in her best superhero voice, hands on her hips. "I am Sailor V!" They both laughed for a moment. "How are you today?"

"Great, Sailor V!" she gushed, followed by more giggles. Usagi had to bend double for a moment, hands clutching her stomach. "Oh wow, we must be losing it!"

Grinning, she reached up and braced herself against Usagi's shoulder to keep from falling over. After a moment, she was able to catch her breath. "Okay… okay, for real this time. How are you, Miss Odango?"

"Very well, thank you," she told her with a small curtsy, voice still laced with amusement.

"I've heard that you are my number-one fan. Tell me, why do you feel this way?"

Usagi rolled her eyes, waving a hand. "I get it, Mina-chan, I get it. You can cut it out now."

"Actually, I'm serious. You have Sailor V right here, in your room, ready to listen. What have you always wanted to tell her?" Turning around, she caught sight of the comfortable bench in front of Usagi's vanity and took a seat — though she kept her posture erect, hoping that was how a "superhero" would sit. "Go on."

"Well… no, I couldn't." But Minako didn't flinch, or do anything other than sit patiently. So eventually, she sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at her knees. "You really want to hear all that?"

"Of course. Sailor V fights to protect the world in the name of love and justice! What her fans think of her is very important, too."

The blush was coming back now that they weren't tittering so much. After a few seconds of kicking her legs back and forth, toes skimming over the pink area rug, she finally whispered, "I think you're the coolest." But that was all she could get out before hiding her face behind her hands. "Ugh, this is so lame! I'M so lame!"

"You're not. I promise. Come on, tell me anything."

"You're… my role model, Sailor V," she went on in a more earnest voice. As if glad for her chance now that Mina had convinced her she could trust it. "And I'm really lucky to get to talk to you. Never thought you would, even if we did meet. I mean, I'm just some dopey brat with two left feet who can't even figure out how to fight…"

That hurt to hear, but Minako focused on playing her role. "Don't worry about that. You're doing your best, Miss Odango. That's all we can do, every day." Then she gestured for her. "Come here."

"Huh?" When she saw the hand patting her lap, she giggled self-consciously. "C-come on, that's not…" But it patted again, harder, and she inched closer. Usagi froze up, so Minako moved to the bed. Only then did she slowly tip over, needing a hand to press her downward before she finally did lay in her lap.

"It's alright, Odango-san. Tell me what's in your heart." The longer she did this, the easier it got. Her voice was low and soothing, and Usagi seemed to be responding. She finally relaxed, though her hand was clenching on her duvet.

"You're so beautiful. It was the first thing I ever thought about you; that you were one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. In Japan, or anywhere! A-and after that, I thought… how cool it must be to be you. How I'd give anything to just see you save someone, or be saved by you. To have your hand touch my face and tell me that everything would be alright. I thought if you did that, I m-might really… believe it."

"Usagi…" That had been a slip, but she recovered quickly, petting along her hair just as she had requested. Running her gloved fingers through the strands of her pigtails. "Do you want me to brush your hair?"

"Ehhhh?! Really?" It was easy for her to reach the vanity from there, so she grabbed the hairbrush while Usagi undid her odango and let her hair fall loose. As she brushed, Usagi hummed, leaning into the touch.

"You could have asked me for this at any time. I know how special you are. Even when you aren't showing it to the world. And you're special without being Sailor Moon; a woman like you who loves her friends is a great treasure."

Usagi curled in a little tighter on herself, though she wasn't shaking or otherwise reacting. After a few more brush-strokes, she whispered, "I always wanted a big sister, too… someone to do this for me besides my mother. And you're so pretty, and brave, and confident… and you always got the bad guy. Made me wish I could be your sidekick."

"Well, you can. Come look in the mirror." Sitting her up, she guided Usagi forward a bit so they could both see themselves in the vanity mirror from the bedside. Then she took off her mask and held it front of Usagi's face.

"Uwaa?"

"Now you're like me," she told her softly, smiling wide. It was true enough; with their hair brushed out in a similar fashion, it was about the same length, the same shade of blonde. Maybe Minako was a bit taller and their faces weren't identical, but anyone who didn't know them intimately would think Usagi was Sailor V now. "You're Sailor V. And I'm sure with this mask on, you'd be just as cool, just as courageous. And you're definitely just as pretty."

For a moment, she had been completely absorbed into this fantasy. Cheeks glowing, eyes twinkling to see herself looking like her hero. But the last line seemed to break the spell. She was still happy, but she sighed, turning to look at Minako as she moved the mask back up to its owner's eyes.

"Not as pretty. There's no one in the world as beautiful as Sailor V, and I will fight you on that one."

What was this feeling now? Her heart was pounding in her throat, eyes blinking rapidly in response to what had snuck up on her. Some kind of… pleasurable thing. Maybe joy? Appreciation? Smiling and looking away, seeing the edges of the red mask again in her peripheral vision, she whispered, "You're wrong, Usa-chan."

"Am I? Maybe you haven't seen yourself. You look like an idol!"

"I do not." And she would know, because she would love to be one of those girls. It had always been her dream.

"Yes, you do." Her lips pushed upward into Minako's cheek, prompting a soft gasp of surprise. "Better than any idol, too. Because I know that you're not just cute; you're a great friend who put on a mask, and… and tried to make me feel better about having all this creepy junk in my room. Thanks so much, Mina-chan."

By now, she was having trouble finding any words. Usagi thought she was the most beautiful person? An idol, a brave hero? It was too much, and yet it made her as happy as it did mixed up inside. Everyone seemed to underestimate the diminutive bun-head because she wasn't very academically gifted, or athletic, or coordinated. But there were other strengths in life.

"You… don't need this junk anymore," she told her softly. She saw the eyes darken with fresh shame, so she hurried to finish, "Because now you have the real Sailor V. Anytime you need her, she's right here. And she's all yours." To seal the deal, she leaned in to give her back the sweet cheek-kiss…

Going back over it in her mind, she couldn't be sure how it happened. Maybe Usagi had moved in the same instant, either on purpose or accidentally, or maybe she had done it because it simply felt right to pair their lips with one another. It was a feather-light touch that seemed to last for hours, but also ended within an instant. When Minako could think again, she found her hands had drifted up to gently cradle her friend's head, and one stray hand of hers had found its way down to her own waist.

"Usa… ch-chan…" That was all either of them had to say. Usagi was blinking up at her, confused but curious, cheeks rosy and mouth slightly open. And in that moment, she'd never looked more sweet.

A bird cawing somewhere snapped them out of it. Scooting to opposite ends of the bed, they looked away and Usagi laughed, "Y-yeah! Thanks, Sailor V! I'll… I'll call you when I need you!"

"Right! It's- y-yes, that's fine! I'm in the book!" They laughed again… and something about the way Usagi looked down, flushed and bashful, then just barely glanced up at her through her eyelashes, made her say, "For another kiss, or just advice! Whatever!"

"AH! Another kiss?!" But when Minako slapped her hands over her mouth, Usagi hurried to say, "S-sure! If you want, we… I m-mean, hey, I'd kiss you right now if that's what you want!"

The way "WHAT?!" burst out of her mouth made Usagi cringe. "Oh, that's- I didn't mean to scare you! But um… y-yeah, I wouldn't ask that of a citizen!"

"You can ask it of me anytime! I mean… y-you could ask me to do anything and I'd do it…" Her face was turning redder and redder. "Which, um, I m-might have thought I had some limits before, but this kind of proves that when it comes to you, all bets are off! Right? Which is crazy, since I've only had dreams like this, n-never thought about it otherwise…"

"You've had dreams? About me?" A tiny nod. "About kissing me?" Another nod, and Minako felt pins and needles all along her spine, the backs of her knees. "Wow… so which is better, the dreams or… or what we just did?"

"GAH! I can't answer that!" She flopped backward, legs windmilling in the air as she squealed. Despite the situation, Minako smiled at how cute the reaction was, and leaned back on the bed to watch her for a moment. When she recovered, she rolled over and stared at her. "Sailor V is on my bed…"

"Sailor V kissed you on your bed." More squealing, and she had to grin at that. "And… would kiss you again, if you wanted. But only on one condition."

"Name it!" Belatedly, she slapped herself in the forehead. "Ugh, way to sound over-eager, Usako…"

Giggling, she reached up and took off her mask. "You kiss Minako Aino, just once. I mean… I want to know where we stand, and how much of it is the superhero getup."

"But Minako is my friend…" Usagi fidgeted, indecisive. She understood; this was a different barrier being broken for her. In the end, she shrugged and smiled shyly. "Besides, why would Minako want to kiss me, either?"

"Because you're a great kisser. And I happen to have heard that from Sailor V herself." She touched her compact and de-transformed back into her weekend clothes. Simple blue overall-dress with a white shirt underneath, orange sandals left downstairs. She saw a slight look of disappointment flash across Usagi's face, but to her credit, she really did try to hide it rather quickly. "So it's the V fuku that does it for you, huh?"

Alarmed, she held up a hand as she laughed nervously. "N-no! Well… I guess it does, which is news to me as much as you, but I… we probably sh-should test this. Because you're my friend, and it's important to know… um…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What kind of friend. Isn't it?"

They were kissing again in no time. As far as Minako was concerned, it was just as spectacular, just as strange and wild and new, just as delicious in a way she didn't think kisses could be. All from Usagi, of all people! Though she did feel a little difference in how much purpose she felt, how much passion… Usagi definitely was more eager for V, but seemed more at ease when she wasn't being intimidated by the knowledge that her heroine was the one kissing back. Despite the fact that, either way, it was really the same person.

"Oh my GOD," the bun-head breathed when she pulled back, panting and staring up at the ceiling. "What… what did we do? I… I kissed Mina-chan!"

"You kissed two girls in one day," she teased breathlessly. That got them giggling and curling to face each other, pulled up on the bed now and comfortable, fractions of inches away from each other, knees touching but otherwise held apart. Then she reached up to pet over her cheek. "Usagi… I don't really have any experience with this. I kind of gave up the idea of ever dating when I awakened as Sailor V, and then Venus. But like… this is… different. We're part of the same world. So maybe…"

"Maybe it's alright?" she whispered back, guessing correctly what she had wanted to say but had been afraid to say first. Then she nodded. "I mean, I kinda had a crush on Sailor V, and Mamoru, and Tuxedo Mask, and Motoki… s-so I guess I'm not very professional." Minako's little snort made her smile. "But here's you, kissing me for real now, and it feels way more right than any of that daydreaming ever did!"

Smiling, she leaned up and pecked Usagi's lips, prompting an excited giggle. "I'm the Senshi of Love, right? Makes sense to me."

"Mmm… oh, Mina-chan, what are we going to tell all the others?"

"Nothing," she said right away. "Not until we're ready. Which, um, I don't think I am yet. Are you?"

"NO! Like, how do you even start talking about Girls' Love with your best friends?! They'll think we're grosser than you did when you got here!"

Giggling, Minako leaned in to peck her lips again. "You're probably right." That devolved into yet another soft, slow kiss, and she still couldn't get over how weird it was to be kissing anyone, let alone the klutzy team leader she had been ready to dismiss as an otaku.

Speaking of which… after a few minutes of that, Usagi pulled back and gasped, "WOW! So, um… I have kind of a weird question."

"Shoot," she just barely managed to breathe, clearing her throat a moment later.

"Okay. So… all this Sailor V stuff. You're probably gonna want me to get rid of it, huh?"

"Definitely." At the disappointed sigh, she reached up to pet along her cheek to console her. "Hey, do you really need it with the real me around?"

Usagi did struggle with herself for a moment before she exploded, "No, but some of it's really rare! Like, that calendar? They were only giving that out at the ramen stand that day! Probably only a few hundred of them in Tokyo!"

Both of Minako's eyes rolled toward the ceiling. "Fine, then the calendar can stay."

"And I guess I could take back the duvet cover, since I just got that and haven't used it yet. But don't make me give up the throw pillow!" As if afraid it would suddenly burst into flames, she snagged the pillow bearing Sailor V's face and hugged it to her chest, eyes dancing with moisture. "Please, please, pleeeaaase? If you let me have this, I won't ever ask you to be V for me when we kiss…"

"That doesn't sound like a promise you can keep," she giggled as she kissed Usagi's forehead, secretly loving how cute and nerdy Usagi was acting. Which was as much laughing at herself, since she used to have a high distaste for nerds after a few unpleasant encounters with them, but somehow when it was Usagi, everything was different. She was different — from anyone she'd ever known. "Alright, alright. But can I ask why? You didn't used to practice making out on that pillow, did you?" A long pause. "Usa-chan?"

The lack of reply spoke volumes.

THE END

[Next: Outtakes!]

#through the moon prism #sailor moon fanfiction #forkanna writes #usagi x minako #yuri fanfiction #forkanna the writer

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misssophiachase · 7 years

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So, I'm back! What I need to acknowledge is this AMAZEBALLS fic cover by the wonderful Nicole @romanoffsbite. I know I always say this but it might be one of my absolute faves yet! Thanks love. So, this is my first update and I'm hoping subsequent ones of my other fics will follow #ProductiveJuly #Hopefully

Synopsis: Caroline Forbes takes a post-graduation camping trip in the mountains with her friends only to return to nothing and no one. Can she find out what's happened, especially with arrogant Klaus Mikaelson along for the journey?

Chapter 3: Cosmic Egg

1 day earlier...

"Football is a tough game, honey. It takes a lot of natural skill." Kol insisted.

"Which is why you mustn't be very good at it," Caroline shot back, rolling her eyes at the same time. She could make out Klaus' crimson lips curve into a smile and was trying to ignore just how cute he looked at the same time.

They hadn't fought since that first night but they also hadn't talked much either. So Caroline felt like they'd settled into somewhat of an uneasy truce. There were so many times she wanted to ask him about what she'd seen that night at prom but thought better of it given their present and extremely nosy company. After hiking most of yesterday they'd decided to stay around the camp and relax on their last day.

"Mock me all you like but I was the best striker at my school in London. If we hadn't moved here I could be in the professional league by now," he boasted.

"We're outside but yet I still feel suffocated by that over-inflated ego," Katherine weazed. "Anyway, it's not like it's real football or anything."

"Excuse me?" Elijah baulked, stopping the ball from impressively spinning atop his finger at her comment. Caroline had to admit this relatively quiet guy had many hidden talents. "It is real football, hence its name."

"She means American football," Bonnie offered.

"How is that real?" Klaus asked. "Football is a tactical game of speed and agility, not a bunch of guys in ridiculous amounts of padding running into each other for sport."

"I'd like to see you try it," Caroline dared.

"Oh come on, if they really were so tough they wouldn't require all that padding," Klaus muttered.

"Sounds like someone feels a little inadequate." Caroline raised her eyebrows.

"Pretty tough call to make when you can't even play, love."

"How do you know I can't?"

"I smell a challenge," Katherine smiled mischievously.

"How about a game of three on three?" Klaus offered. "We can even mix up the teams to make it fair."

"What? Because we're women?"

"Fair because as much as you love to pretend to play a tough game, it's obvious you don't know what you're doing, sweetheart."

"Oh, p-uh-leaase," Caroline groaned.

"Do we have to?" Kol grumbled, before noticing Bonnie's menacing stare. "What I meant to say is I'd love to play with Bonnie."

"For that I wouldn't go on your team if you begged me now, Kol," she growled. "You can have Klaus but I''m taking Elijah and Caroline."

"Hey, what about me?" The one thing both girls knew about was Katherine's lack of coordination, especially when it came to ball sports.

"Don't worry, Katherine," Klaus assured her, his eyes boring into Caroline's blue ones as he said it. "You're on the winning team so there's nothing to be upset about."

"Someone's cocky."

"Can you two just stop arguing and start getting busy?" Kol smirked, his double meaning not lost on Caroline. They both looked at each other not expecting him to bring up something so awkward in front of the whole group. Caroline made a mental note to put a snake in his sleeping bag tonight.

The game went as expected. Yes, Elijah was extremely gifted but having both Kol and Klaus on the same team was proving to be difficult for Caroline and Bonnie. Katherine basically stood there, her teammates deciding early on that her contribution to the game was best left at that. Caroline made her way up the makeshift field, eyes focused solely on him. When it came to competition, it was obvious Klaus was completely focused on the game.

Caroline ran past before attempting turning around to stop his momentum and steal the football in the process. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude not to share?"

"Didn't yours tell you that winning is all that matters?" He puffed, using his impressive leg skills to evade her attempts to take possession.

"No, mine told me it isn't about whether you win or lose, it's about how you play the game." Klaus rolled his eyes at that particular saying.

Caroline was still determined, running alongside him and matching his pace. She veered into his body, throwing him slightly off balance before attempting to retrieve the ball, her legs intertwining with his as they both fell to the ground simultaneously.

She was wrapped around him and Caroline had to admit it felt strangely good. Nearby Kol was bleating about red cards as she and Klaus caught their breath, Caroline pinned beneath him, skin against skin as their blue eyes met. Time seemed to stand still and she didn't even notice when the others came over to their aid.

"Are you okay, Caroline?" Elijah asked them both, his concern evident.

"Way to try and deflect blame here, Elijah! She's a cheater," Kol accused. "It's our ball."

"Calm down little brother," Klaus offered, Caroline surprised that his usual unrelenting and competitive side had been taken hostage by their close proximity.

"No," she argued, attempting to free her limbs from his feebly, shaking slightly as she did. "The rules are the rules. I don't need pity."

"Whatever you say, love," Klaus murmured, holding her gaze longer than usual.

"Can we just play already?" Kol urged. "It's almost dark."

Turns out Klaus and Kol won convincingly (no one felt the need to acknowledge Katherine with her obvious lack of skill) but given the team make-up she was hardly surprised. While Kol gloated around the fire, much to Bonnie's chagrin, Klaus was surprisingly silent. She knew he was competitive and so his lack of conversation was playing on Caroline's mind.

As much as she wanted to ignore it, they'd shared something on the grass, albeit brief. Flashes of a certain painting were playing on her mind and Caroline was beginning to question his possible feelings. In fact, she wanted to ask him everything she'd held back to this point. What did it matter now given they'd be going their separate ways next month?

"As much as I've enjoyed this display of macho, male behaviour, I'm turning in," Katherine yawned.

"Yeah, we need to be up early to trek back," Caroline agreed, snuggling into her sleeping bag. All in all, she'd had an okay time even with his unexpected appearance.

It was probably three hours later, when a low humming noise woke her. Caroline rubbed her eyes before looking towards the sky. She didn't see anything but that sound was familiar. Why were there airplanes again? Klaus caught her eye across the fire his expression sombre. For someone who seemed so relaxed about their presence the other night his gaze was telling her something else.

Caroline turned over, determined to get some sleep. She made a note to ask her parents about it when she got back into town.

Present Day

"We need to calm down and decide what our next step is going to be," Elijah offered, looking around the group earnestly. They'd been stunned into relative silence on finding the Mikaelsons gone and the electricity out, just like at Caroline's house.

They were sitting in the their expansive living room in complete darkness. Given the possible danger they'd decided to wait until after sunset to make their next move so anything they did was undetected. Caroline had been in a daze after seeing Jesse dead and finding her parents gone but she was beginning to realise that sitting still wasn't going to help them find out what happened.

"Easy for you to say," Katherine hissed. "I have no idea if my parents are even okay."

"Well, look around, princess," Kol growled. "Our parents are missing."

"This isn't helping," Bonnie sobbed. Kol sent her a sheepish glance and placed his arm comfortingly around his distressed girlfriend.

"We need to go into main street and find out what's happening. Our parents may be missing but there's got to be somebody somewhere who knows what the hell is going on," Klaus suggested. "Plus, we're going to need some supplies given most of the food is spoiled due to the power outage."

"What if it's a trap and they're waiting for us in town?"

"What do you mean Kol? Who's they exactly?" Bonnie murmured.

"The planes," he mumbled. "It can't be a coincidence that we saw an entire fleet fly over and now our parents and everyone else seems to be missing."

"I think we need to stop spouting conspiracy theories until we have more evidence, little brother," Elijah baulked. "Klaus is right about the supplies though and if it means finding some semblance of civilisation then we need to go while it's dark."

"But what about my parents? I need to know if they're okay, so does Kat."

"Okay, how about Elijah and Kat go to her place and Kol and Bonnie do the same," Klaus instructed. Caroline looked up, realising that just meant the two of them together, all alone. "Are you up for a trip into town, Caroline?"

"Let's do it," she agreed, knowing that any of her unresolved feelings for him didn't matter in the current environment. Sure she was scared but Caroline knew she had to find her parents and from Klaus' grimace, she could tell he felt the same way.

They dispersed quickly, each collecting what they needed before heading off on the farm's motorbikes. Caroline held her best friends close, almost afraid to let them go because she might never see them again. Klaus had sent his brothers a serious nod before rushing back into the house, for what she had no idea.

"See you soon, bestie," Kat promised, giving her an extra squeeze before jumping on the bike being Elijah.

"Be safe," Bonnie murmured,."We'll see you soon, Care."

They were gone before she could reply properly, the words not forthcoming she was that emotional as they rode off into the night.

She found herself back in the Mikaelson house looking for Klaus so they too could leave. It was pitch black inside so she turned on a flashlight and moved about the rooms. Where was he? Didn't Klaus realise how important it was to leave now? She heard some rustling down the hallway, moving towards the sound.

She flashed her torch at the source of the noise, noticing Klaus madly rummaging in a drawer. By the looks of her surroundings this was his bedroom. "Are you right, Caroline?"

"Sorry," she growled, lowering it slightly. "I wondered where you'd gone. we need to head into the city."

"I know," Klaus replied gruffly, taking something from his drawer and placing it in his pocket. What it was she had no idea but suddenly it didn't matter because of where the flash light focused. It was the painting she'd seen on prom night and it was hanging in pride of place on his bedroom wall, opposite his bed. She shivered involuntarily, knowing just how she felt as she stood on that jetty and the painting was a vivid reminder of that fact.

"Hey," Klaus whispered, breaking her from the trance, his hand finding hers in the darkness. "Everything will be okay."

"How do you know that?" She whimpered, feeling her resolve fading away.

"Because we need all the hope we can muster, love," he offered, squeezing her hand in the process. With every horrible thing that seemed to be happening to them, Caroline found a brief moment of comfort in his hushed words and the warmth of his skin against hers.

"Let's get them back," Caroline smiled, albeit weakly. They finally pulled apart and even though she felt cold without his touch, Caroline knew they had work to do if they were going to defeat this hidden enemy and see their family again.

You can read and review on FF HERE

#cosmic egg #tomorrow when the war began #sophia chase

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baby-onthe-brain · 5 years

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Affording Baby

Originally Posted 12 March 2018

I’m not going to lie… This is the part that scares me the most. I’ve never been affluent, and there’s only one period in my life where I’ve been well off — a three-year stretch when I was a child myself. The topic of finances isn’t a comfortable one for me, and I’m routinely embittered about all the folks who seemingly have more than I do.

Not necessarily material things, but also the experiences that financial freedom often grants. Things like routine travel expeditions, or not having to worry about going over your grocery budget and the successive awkwardness of having to ask the cashier to take some items off the bill. I’m trying to get better about it, especially since Rhys brought up a little while ago just how often I voice my opinions on it, but it’s still there in the back of my mind. I’m working on it.

I will not the first (nor will I be the last) to say that having kids is expensive. Really, really expensive. Children are a 20-year investment or longer, and you’d best be ready for the long haul (especially if the economy keeps going the way it is). Which is why when you’re actually planning for a baby, it’s a good idea to make sure you can actually afford one. Or two.

Or three. You know how it goes.

Now, I’m sure that you’re aware of the procession of mommy blogs out there that tell you “how to financially plan for a baby in 5 easy steps.” While these blogs are often repetitive and from an upper-middle-class perspective, they do have some useful advice. Some of the stuff I have to laugh at, like cutting down on routine unnecessary purchases (like mall trips or lattes) and setting that aside into a baby fund instead. Other stuff, though… That stuff is good.

One of the things that I’ve really taken to heart from my research is to accumulate essential baby things slowly over an extended amount of time. It would scar up anybody’s finances if you suddenly had to jam outfitting an entire nursery plus stock up food, and clothing, and diapers, and every other necessity under the sun into less than a year’s worth of paycheques. Getting the job done slowly ensures that you can do a little at a time, without the side effect of wincing whenever you see your bank statement. Well… As much, anyway.

I’ve been accumulating in earnest for a while now, and have been happy to discover that most of it can be gotten second-hand. This cuts down on costs incredibly, and I can help to reuse items that still have a good lifespan to them. Most of these financially-savvy mamas also recommend asking your friends and family for hand-me-downs, which I fully intend to do once I actually have a due date. Keep in mind that a baby shower, if you’re going to have one, will also help you accumulate smaller stuff. A friend of mine said that she didn’t have to worry about getting baby clothes because she’d gotten a whole stock of them as gifts. Score!

There is, of course, the necessity of actually looking at your finances. As I mentioned earlier, this is one of the scary parts for me. Rhys and I don’t exactly live in the lap of luxury; while we are comfortable, it’s an uneasy comfort that comes from a lot of organisation and budgeting. This is something we’ve earnestly taken to in recent months, revising our budget and figuring out down to the (useless) penny where our money is going and when. This new budget is still in its early stages, but it’s so far been helping immensely in making sure we can stay afloat and still get where we need to go.

One of the things that baby prep resources across the board (mommy blogs, books, web-based resources, etc.) have asserted is that you must reduce debt as much as possible. This to me is a no-brainer, but one that becomes rather difficult when you’re saddled with student loans you can’t pay out. My advice is to pay the smallest debt off first and work your way up. If you have a credit card, or somebody loaned you money, get those paid off first. Then, when you’ve gotten them out of the way, move the money you’ve been using to pay those off to the next smallest payment.

Of course, this entirely depends on how much you make, how much debt you have, and a whole slew of other things. I’m not a financial advisor by any means, so if you’re really in trouble financially, seek out help! There are hundreds of debt consolidation and consultation businesses available to you. For example, both Rhys and I are in the process of repayment assistance for our student loans, which means we don’t have to think about them right now. We wouldn’t be able to do anything about it anyway, but it’s nice to know that we’re not being thrown under the bus because we couldn't pay for our educations out of pocket.

One of the things that the baby prep book I’m reading (Rachel Pepper’s Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians) brought up is all the legal stuff you don’t really think about. Admittedly, I completely forgot to factor in stuff like wills, life insurance, and RESPs. Well… No, okay that’s a lie. I’ve had it in my head for years that the moment I conceive, I am going to open an RESP account for my baby. I don’t want them to have to suffer through student loans if I can help it. But, in the grand scheme of things when you’re already worrying about the money you’ll be spending on your little one in the coming months… Well. It’s a kick in the butt.

Thinking about things like your baby’s education when they’re not even born yet, or whether they’ll be able to get by if anything ever happens to you unexpectedly can be a bit of a stretch… But a necessary one. The book I mentioned before stresses how wills especially are important for LGBTQA+ couples, or other couples who underwent ART. The will is a legally binding document that makes your wishes known, and will hold up better in court, should the need arise, than a co-parenting agreement or a known-donor agreement. This is fundamental if you want your partner to have custody of your little one in the event of your passing, especially if they’re not on the birth certificate. Rhys and I have thought about what would happen, should our little one be left stranded without both of us. Not concretely, mind you, but we’ve at least broached the subject.

Wow, this post has turned way more into one of those mommy blog posts than I was expecting it to. Apologies, if that’s not what you were looking for!

Back to the topic, in general, though… I’m not going to say that if you follow the steps I listed above, or any steps found online or in books, that you’ll be completely financially prepared. If there’s anything working in childcare has taught me, it’s that kids throw curveballs just by existing. There will be moments where you’re wholly unprepared for a situation, and just need to roll with it. Doing what you can now will help take the strain off for sure, but don’t freak out if you haven’t paid off all your debt, or if you haven’t saved as much as you wanted. Life happens. Shit happens. It’ll be okay. Do what you can.

I think that one of the reasons why I even started writing this blog post, is because I’ve been coming up against a lot of doubt from myself and others recently. Working out the budget I mentioned earlier scared me shitless about how we were supposed to afford a baby with all the other stuff on top of it. In addition to that, when I asked a “friend” whether I should set up a crowdfunding button to go on this blog to help with the added cost of ART, she came back with a rather judgemental: “If you can’t come up with an extra $2000 for that,” (HA! If only it cost just $2000….) “then should you really be having kids?”

Ouch. Right to the heart of my anxieties. Thanks, I needed that. Please take your entitled, unknowledgeable ass right out of my house. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out. It’s not like I haven’t thought about this for DAYS on end and stretched and thought and researched…. No, I’m not like that at all.

I should have known better, to be honest. This particular “friend” has no interest in having children herself or being around them for extended periods of time. She has frequently been seen rolling her eyes at all my preparatory excitement, and giving me long looks that essentially said: “oh my god this again?” Her comment really tore into me, though, like a good cat-scratch, and I find myself still thinking about it. I know exactly where I stand socioeconomically, and I know at least generally how difficult it’s going to be, raising a child. There are tons of considerations I’ve already discovered, and tons more that I haven’t even thought of. But if I’m going to let my financial situation forestall my desire to be a mother, do I really deserve to be one? Situations can change.

One of my favourite romance movies of all time, P.S. I Love You has this really exceptional scene in it that I’ve kept with me since seeing it the first time. Granted, the whole movie is about losing a loved one (spoilers?), but it doesn’t start like that. I’ve been thinking about it more and more, and it’s acted like a sort of balm against some of the bile coming from doubters, including my own anxiety.

It’s the opening scene, and Holly (Hilary Swank) is mad at her husband Gerry (Gerard Butler) because of something he’d said during dinner with Holly’s mother (Kathy Bates). Finally, it comes out that Holly is mad at Gerry because he said she didn’t want children right then (along with a slew of other semi-related issues). The scene shows that Holly is a planner, and a worrier, and frequently gets inside her own head and lets her anxieties get the better of her, and I feel that, girl. The whole opening scene is so relatable and almost perfectly voices my anxieties about preparing for a baby. What sticks with me most is what Gerry says though:

“People have babies with no money all the time…. We’re not a mistake just because we don’t have any money.”

You’ve just got to work through it. You’ve got to rely upon one another and support one another, and do what you can. Things will turn out one way or the other (even if you’re not a cute, carefree Irish guy). It may take longer than you want it to, like it will with us, but… You’ll get there. We will too.

Do you have any hacks or saving tips? Have you had similarly unsupportive friends? Let me know in the comments! I’d love to hear from you.

#preconception chronicles #baby prep #finances #financial matters #money matters #little bit of a rant #PS I Love You #hillary swank #gerard butler #pop-culture reference #kathy bates

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passionate-hedgehog · 7 years

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Wine

A/N; I just spent the entire night writing this. I really probably should have slept but- eh- oh well.

This isn’t a requested one-shot, nor is it an imagine. It’s just a short little thing. Unless someone wants more or if I just want to write more. I’ve been working on the next installment of How We Came To Be but I needed to take a breather, ja feel?

If you like it, leave some love! It's almost 5;30 am here so I need to close my eyes.

Chloe Penelope had decided that she was going to wear polka dots every day of her life. At least, that’s what her mom thought. The bright purple leggings were accented with spots all over in different colors. Her lime green shirt wasn’t bare, either. There were plumes of flowers along the collar. None of her outfit coordinated with itself and the three-year-old couldn’t care less.

Hannah rolled her eyes good-naturedly and stifled a chuckle when she found her toddler waiting outside the kitchen. The woman noticed her daughter was standing with her hands on her hips and completely proud of her outfit choice. Maybe one she’d be the style icon of the decade. There was no talking the child out of her clothing choices once she made up her mind.

“I’m beautiful, Mommy!” The toddler nearly shouted throughout the entire apartment, even though she was less than 6 feet away from her mother.

Hannah did chuckle at that. “Yes, Chlobug. You are very beautiful! The most beautiful one here, I do believe!”

The golden blonde child walked up to the dinner table. “Nuh-uh, Mommy. You are!”

The woman picked up her daughter and left a kiss on her nose. “We both are. How about that?”

“Hmm…” Chloe tapped her finger on her chin and looked to be deeply in thought. “Ok! We both are! Are we princesses, Mommy?”

“Why can’t I be the queen?”

“Because you’re too young, Mommy. Queen’s are old. Duh.”

Hannah crouched down to her sitting daughter’s level and looked her right in the eye. “One day, you’ll get the biggest inheritance I can leave you. Keep up the good work, Kid.”

“Can I have chocolate milk with my Fruity Pebbles, Mommy?”

“And then that happens. Sure thing, Kiddo. Whatever your weird little heart desires.” Hannah pulled the accommodating breakfast items off shelves and out of the fridge and prepared the meal.

After Hannah had dropped her charming yet odd child off at preschool, she stopped at the market to grab food that she was pretty sure that she wasn’t going to end up making. Grocery shopping always made her hungry. She learned very early on that if she wanted to retain her sanity, she couldn’t shop with Chloe. She’d have to go during school hours when she was the hungriest and the busiest.

Chloe wasn’t the pickiest eater, but she was picky enough. The only cereal she ate was Fruity Pebbles, and she preferred it in chocolate milk. She even had a certain bowl that she ate it out of.

Okay, maybe picky wasn’t the right word. Chloe was particular. That’s not mean to think, is it?

Hannah shrugged at her inner thoughts and grabbed the biggest box of cereal that she could find on the shelf and made her way to the front of the store, eyeing the wine section as she went. That’s when she saw him.

The brunette slowed to a stop, and it took her a minute to realize that she was gawking at some stranger in the middle of the wine aisle at the grocery store. She didn’t usually stare at people she didn’t know in such a conspicuous manner, so she hid behind the end cap of another aisle and peered around the corner.

She recognized him, sort of. She remembered seeing him somewhere before. It was brief, but she couldn’t forget that face. He was either on the tv or guest lectured at the college she took online courses at. He was familiar, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

The man was looking through the bottles of white wine with his tongue stuck out in deep concentration. His fingers were hovering over the labels he was reading, and he looked so adorably lost. The wine bottles were lucky to have so much attention paid to them by such a wonderfully interesting man. He needed help, though. That much she could tell.

Don’t just stand there like a loon, Hannah. Here’s a wonderful opportunity to meet someone new. It could be quick and painless. Chloe wouldn’t even have to meet him. Not that I’d put her through that anyway. Not again.

Just do it. There’s no shame in making new friends. Besides you’re curious about where you recognize him from anyway…

“Uh.” Hannah’s canvas covered feet moved faster than her brain. “You look like you’re having some trouble picking out a wine.”

The man turned to look at her with a brief expression of surprise then licked his lips.

Oh, man, she thought. That could kill me.

He looked back at the bottles and then nodded. “I’m not a big wine connoisseur. I know all the types of wine and what goes best with what food pairings but it’s for a birthday gift. I’m not quite so sure what she’d prefer.”

Her?

“Well, does she like a certain brand or type? Or does she like to try different kinds out sometimes?” Hannah walked up until she was just barely a few feet from him.

“I’m not actually sure. It’s embarrassing, really. I have an eidetic memory. One would think I can remember what’s had in my presence

Hannah brushed some hair behind her ear and winced. “I hope she’s not a girlfriend; otherwise you’d be in loads of trouble..”

The man blushed a little. “Ah, no. She’s just a very good friend. One I wouldn’t want to upset. She deserves the best.”

“Aw,” the woman smiled earnestly. “She sounds important. But it also sounds like you shouldn’t overthink it. I’m sure whatever you choose, she’ll enjoy it. Just make this choice from your heart and stick a meaningful card with it. Girls can be suckers for cards. Or maybe that’s just me…”

He looked back at the shelving. “What would you suggest?”

“Who? Me?” Hannah put a hand to her chest in surprise.

“Yeah. You’re a girl. You seem like you would make good wine decisions. What would you go for?”

“Honestly?” Hannah reached up and wrapped her non-manicured fingers around a bottle on the middle shelf and pulled it down. “This one.”

The man took the wine after she held it out to him and read the label. “Kendall-Jackson Riesling. Why is this the one you picked?”

The words weren’t critical, just pure curiosity.

“Well, that’s an easy one. It’s my favorite! If it’s at any restaurant I go to, it’s the first thing out of my mouth. Well, that and cheese sticks. I love my cheese sticks.”

Hannah met the man’s eyes after her almost daydream and stopped short. “Was that weird?”

He shook his head and gave a small smile. “No, cheese sticks are delicious. Did you know cheese has historical roots dating back as far as 6,000 BC? And that about 20 million metric tons of cheese gets produced every year? And I guess I should have warned you about that…”

“About what?” Hannah had cocked her head to the side in brief confusion.

The man scratched the back of his head and looked away. “About how I just say random things that no one asked about. I just...spurt them out.”

“If you know it, flaunt it. Intelligence is very attractive. Use it, just don’t be a jerk about it. Maybe you can use it to turn that very close friend into something else, hmm?” Hannah bumped his shoulder in an easy going way.

“Oh, no. Penelope already has somebody. I’m kind of the baby of the office. She’s very protective of me.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you work? Or, if that’s too abrasive, what do you do?” He’s single! I can’t do anything about that, but I can feel less guilty about it at least.

He looked around. “I uh...I work in the F.B.I. Behavioral Analysis Unit, to be precise.”

“That’s where I know you from!”

The quick outburst made him jump slightly, and he wondered for a brief second if it was a mistake to say such intimate details to someone he didn’t even know.

“Uh…”

“You guest lectured at the college I’m taking online courses at. You’re Dr. Spencer Reid! I couldn’t figure it out! It was right at the tip of my tongue. And I’m totally spazzing out now.”

Spencer laughed an honest laugh and held the bottle of wine close to his chest. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna take a bet? I saw you as I was passing this aisle and wanted a reason to approach you because you were so familiar, I couldn’t figure out why. So I hid behind that end cap right over there for 5 minutes. I was trying to figure out when to come over here, if ever at all.”

“So you were stalking me because I looked familiar?”

“Well, that and-” Hannah abruptly shut up, and a bright flush overcame her cheeks. “Uh.”

“And why? Now I’m curious.” Spencer stepped closer to her.

Well, crap. “And uh…”

Spencer watched as Hannah licked her lips and hummed to herself. The woman subconsciously rubbed her right arm as she bit her bottom lip.

Oh, for goodness sakes.

“Because I wanted to know you. When you were standing there, in the middle of the wine aisle, you looked like someone I wanted to know.”

“And now? Am I still someone you’d want to know?”

Hannah met his eyes and smiled. “Hi, I’m Hannah Cameron, and you are definitely worth getting to know.”

Hannah reached out a hand, and Spencer took it, shaking it. Her blush faded a tinge, but their eyes never left each other. She hoped he was worth getting to know. Being a single parent tended to be a turnoff, but she just couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she got. Maybe Spencer was different?

#sr.imagines #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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july-19th-club · 7 years

Text

Century 12

aka, My Very New Very Unfinished Immortal People Short Story, bc some of you asked for it and let’s be honest, I wanted to share it anyway

read ON

One of us has died.

The strangest part about it is that the dead woman—she was a woman, from Argentina, short and stout and always wore her hair in a thick bun and sold handknit products online—was one of our youngest. Only on Century 3, she’d been doing well. That we knew of. She kept in touch, had been saying on the forum that she was going to bring treats to the meet, something homemade. And then three weeks before, when most of us were planning or packing or already en route, we all got notices on our group messages—she was dead.

Suicide, of course. It’s all my seat partner on the plane talks about on our way over. He’s a long-legged guy from New York—long enough for it to give him an accent, anyway. He’s businesslike and well-dressed, but looks cramped and crumpled in the airplane seating. He’s doing good right now, he says. He’s in a stable relationship; they just adopted a new cat. He shows me pictures—a young, impossibly handsome blue-eyed man proudly holding up a disgruntled orange tabby.

“Found him in an alley. His name’s Mewcutio,” says my seat partner—and then he cracks a grin. “The cat, not my boyfriend,” he amends.

“It’s so good right now,” he adds, looking at me earnestly. But I don’t know whether he’s trying to convince himself or what. Relationships—I gave up on those a long time ago. And this guy looks like maybe he did too, for a while. His face, when he talks about his blue-eyed boy, is a mixture of adoration and mourning.

It’s not hard to guess why.

At the meet, we don’t sit down and break out a session immediately. That’s what local groups and semilocals are for. The coping, the therapy. This is a celebration for us—the precious few, to gather every ten years and remind each other that we’re still here, that we can and will and must by nature endure. For some of us it’s the thing that saves us. For others, it’s a reminder of how unsavable we really are.

Upon arrival, we split up in the entrance to the hotel—we’ve booked over half of it for the occasion, as we do every ten years in a different venue in a different country—and we look for old friends. My seat partner and I walk in opposite directions, and in my head I wish him a good fifty-sixty-seventy with his blue-eyes. It’s the best they’re gonna get. I watch him jog down the steps and I take the elevator upstairs. Julie and Kim Mbege are already in the room they’re sharing. They’re sisters, which is rare. It’s not like anyone picks this—it just…happens. Family members who both get it are as rare as…well, as rare as the Argentinian doing what she did. As awful as it is, who we are, what we have to look forward to—it’s rare that we let go of it.

Except…as the Mbege sisters and I sit on the made-up beds and chat and drink ice water from the minifridge, we can all taste it. The atmosphere has changed this meet. What normally feels like a giant, strange, supportive family reunion has taken on the tone of a tense political summit. Whispers are everywhere. Julie and Kim tell me that on their flight over—from Johannesburg; I can’t imagine the layovers—they were joined by the groups from Lesotho and Botswana. It’s all anyone talked about there, too. When we head downstairs we’re interrupted by Brazil and Chile, which is uncomfortable mostly because the Argentinian was apparently the only one of us from her country. That meant that these people were her semilocals; they actually knew her. In the crush of gossip and discussion, they’re subdued. They don’t know how she did it, they say, and they don’t want to know. It must have taken an enormous effort. They don’t think she left a note of explanation, or if something in particular in her recent life drove her to it.

I tell them about my new pal from the flight over. “He’s dating,” I say. I suddenly feel worried for a near stranger. “But his partner, he’s not one of us. He says he’s so happy. Do you think that’s what happened to the Argentinian? She got too happy?”

Getting too happy is a real concern for us. It leads to all sorts of shitty things, like engaging in relationships that are headed for the cliff edge. I haven’t dated seriously since…has to be…who was on the throne then? George II? I want to say it was. I was in Scotland, then. After that time I swore off closeness to people who weren’t us, very deliberately. We discussed it in my local group. And I realized that the only way to survive—the only way to not pull an Argentinian—was to swear off things that brought me to that place of sharp darkness, the pit you can’t claw out of. I spent a long time in that place. I know how bad it is to be there and have no discernible way out. I know how to avoid it, how it’s the worst feeling in the world, as easy to enter and hard to leave as quicksand, which I was once ensnared in and which is the only natural, physical thing that has ever really made me scared for my life.

So now I avoid it, and I spend most of my time with others of us or with people who won’t worry if I don’t stick around. I’ve gotten close a few times to missing them after I’ve gone—but that’s how it works. It’ll always be like that. And I’m lucky in that I have a fairly big local and semilocal, and that I have friends out elsewhere in the world. We keep each other together. We call each other at four in the morning when we’re having a bad one, and somehow, we make it work. Even if we’re missing something all the time—faith, like Julie’s friend Clark—love, like…well, me—a sense of reality, like my new buddy on the plane—we find ways to fill that gap, for long enough that we can survive it.

That’s what it’s really about.

Julie and Kim and I take on the bar downstairs dressed up, and we mingle with the non-meet guests at the hotel. They look breakable to me, always have. There’s a—speed—to them. Like hummingbirds or the clear, slender bugs you can find skating on the surface of a pond. Across the room, there’s a lot of whooping and hollering and synthesizer, someone’s trying to start a party—Kim points, and we all stop and stare, right in the middle of a tourist gang also staring.

“I think it’s The Stuntman,” Kim says.

I’ve never met The Stuntman in person, but I know him by sight. He’s somewhat famous, not just among us but in the rest of the world too. He’s not much to look at—a tall, scrawny Irish teenager with wild hair and a frail figure—but when you get a close-up, you see big mournful eyes and delicate facial structure, boyish and brittle, like an early Bob Dylan. He’s really quite attractive then, mostly because he looks so mortal.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. The Stuntman is one of our newest, and everybody knows who he is by reputation. His personality is said to be infections—filled with manic, hyperactive energy. He’s vulgar, unflappable, loud, YOUTHFUL, arrogant. It’s understandable. The first ten or twenty years are always like that. You’re drunk on the future because you don’t yet fully grasp exactly how heavy that future will settle on your bones. But The Stuntman has another gift that contributes to his particular reckless abandon—not only can he not age, he cannot die period. It’s a rarity so extreme that some people refuse to believe it’s actually possible. Some people even say that Jesus himself had that ability—regenerative immortality. Of course, since nobody’s seen Him for two thousand years and only a handful of us are old enough to have lived parallel to Him, it’s likely that the Jesus thing is faker than The Stuntman.

The Stuntman is nothing if not visible. He blared onto the sensation-TV scene eight and a half years ago, hailing from a tiny factory town and quickly rising in international notice. Now he’s got this show, Live to Die, in which he tests rumored ‘killer acts’ and then, if it turns out they’re actually fatal, resurrecting himself over and over and over and over again. He doesn’t seem to care if most of his viewers think it’s an elaborate magician’s act. He knows that some of us see everything he does.

The rumors are that he’ll probably stage something this week. It’s his first international meet, and he won’t be able to resist the attention. And before the Argentinian, we were looking forward to it, everyone talking about how he’d try to top his biggest tricks.

But this is after the Argentinian. And watching him downing inhuman amounts of booze, the alcohol poisoning negligible when you know for a fact that you’ll wake up eventually, I think that he’s dancing a fine line between performance and something far more dangerous.

The girls and I make our way through the buffet-style dinner spread, and bring canapes and drinks out to the poolside. I set a little plate of lemon-scented mussels and a glass of champagne in the special holders on my deck chair, and we stick our legs out long and coconut-oily to bask in the evening. Julie tosses us pairs of neon-rimmed sunglasses, and we lounge. The pool gradually empties while guests go back inside for food, then fills up again as they come outside for drunken games of chicken in the water. The smell of chlorine rises up past the bubbly and anchors me down, its sharpness clearing my head.

There’s another commotion around 8:30, as the sun starts to sink past the bluffs beyond the resort. “He’s here,” somebody says, and Kim waves across the pool to the speaker.

“Who?”

“HIM.”

“Oh,” says Kim, raising her sunglasses onto her forehead, and flips a few stray twists of hair back over her shoulder.

I don’t need to know what they mean by HIM. Rembrandt – sorry, Mounet – sorry, Reeves – is the rarest of birds. Despite being Century 7-plus, he actively relishes his eternity, not in the brash, destructive way the Stuntman does, but in the way that you’d think we all would. He puts himself in the spotlight – as an artist, usually – never enough to be overwhelmed with celebrity, but enough to be memorable. There are even rumors out there: he’s a vampire, he’s immortal, he’s a time traveler. They’re idle rumors, the kind of thing people create conspiracy photosets of when they’re bored on the internet – but they’re rumors anyway. It’s not about vanity, I think, for him: just proof. I exist in a way that I should not. I have been and am still here.

The downside, I’d imagine, is that to be visibly immortal, one must be constantly reinventing oneself – not just moving to new locations with slightly new papers, but changing identities entirely, complete with fake deaths and paper trails that aren’t just ruined, but burnt away completely. That’s got to be harder now than ever before, and soon enough, the man will have to come up with a public ending for himself. A plane crash, maybe, or a mysterious accident. In the Victorian times, if one of us got too heard-of and had to disappear, then illnesses used to be popular. Tuberculosis. Cholera. The ever-ubiquitous Brain Fever.

In the meantime, he’s the closest thing we’ve got to a unanimous leader. Generous, tall, striking, adjacent to universally handsome, friendly to all – the kind of person you’d put your trust into in a crisis, believing that they could, if not fix the situation themselves, at least make you feel better about it until the proper authorities saved the day. As he enters the deck, long-haired, neatly bearded, holding a wine glass, we all turn, consciously and subconsciously. The atmosphere quiets down a little, the desperate fun-having slowing its pace. Tension dissipates. It’s all right, the new mood says, to mourn or be afraid. You don’t have to put on a brave face. The One Who Is Comfortable Enough For All Of Us is here.

Author’s Notes: ayyyyyyy hope you liked it don’t be dicks and repost this shit it’s original content right here

#mine #my writing #fixed my blog theme!!!#its very readable now #lemme kno if it's not thought

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