#to clarify he made advances on me. to try and get over our relationship. which he ended.

[nemiza]

brb just realized how funny it is that my ex rebounded from me...with me...and then got mad at me that i let him rebound from me with me

#.txt #what a weird guy #to clarify he made advances on me. to try and get over our relationship. which he ended. #it was not an attempt at rekindling anything

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you. 

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. 

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner. 

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…” 

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your “boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more. 

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself. 

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed. 

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer.  You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year. 

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly. 

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission. 

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.” 

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

“Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.” 

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.” 

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was. 

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work. 

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.” 

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars. 

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex. 

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time. 

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you. 

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could. 

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel. 

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history. 

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat. 

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?” 

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became. 

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.” 

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young. 

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him. 

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.” 

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home. 

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom. 

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body. 

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure. 

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing. 

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him. 

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin. 

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you. 

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close. 

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend. 

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited. 

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…” 

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. 

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat. 

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different. 

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.” 

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.” 

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to. 

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased. 

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…” 

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.” 

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.” 

PART 2

#chris beck x reader #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck fluff #dad!chris beck #chris beck x you

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Webcomic Chapter 141 Review

Intro

Normally I like to take a couple of days and a few rereads to see how I feel about a chapter before reviewing it, but with ONE’s unpredictable schedule, I’d best do this now.  It’s longish.

The first thing to say is that this chapter really messed me up.

The cavalry has a stone in its shoe

The first thing that fucked me up was realising what the sound effect in the first two panels of the chapter was: the sound of the doctor’s increasingly agonised breathing.  What a horrible thing to have to hear, made worse by the three Machine Gods showing up and reporting that their latest kill would have a 0% chance of survival after 5 minutes.

If you thought then that this chapter would be about a by-the-skin-of-the-teeth save, you’re sadly mistaken.  Genos was awesome.  He spared no power (nor powers for that matter) in fighting the three dragon-level machines simultaneously, aiming to kill them as quickly as he could and get that time.

ONE’s grasp on choreography has improved immensely and he’s used it fantastically here.  He’s always been versatile, but this time, Genos was plasticity itself, wielding heat, freezing, magnetism, anti-gravity, electricity and much more.  In turn, they didn’t commit the mistake of trying to attack one at a time, analysing his moves as they went and attacking in unpredictable formation.

it might not be psychic power, but being able to move and warp anything magnetic is a damn useful substitute

Machine Gods may vary in form, but they do share a basic interest, which is in understanding heroes, and a basic personality, which is a snarky wit that’s quick to mock. Machine God Tech lobs a back-handed compliment to Genos, saying that if he’d mastered these variable abilities, he’d have been able to aim for the top of the hero world.  For their confidence, Tech and Ray end up dead in pretty short order, smashed to pieces, leaving an outraged Machine God Body howling about how it simply couldn’t be that a mere ex-human cyborg could outdo them, these magnificent AIs.  He takes up the components of the other two to strengthen himself further, but  he’s dead soon, smashed to bits by an appropriately named Final Smash.

Genos hurries to the doctor, but there’s no let up.  Seven more high-powered robots appear. Thankfully so does Saitama, still in his underwear. He takes on the five approaching from the front, leaving the last two to Genos.  Saitama casually walking through the assault, not even bothering to shape a punch has to be one of the scene-stealers of the chapter and one of the very few light moments in it.

And then it’s over.  Saitama picks the doctor up to try ferrying him to hospital, but the doctor refuses, preferring to tell Genos where to find a secret, final upgrade, to use it to run away from Them (looks like the doctor knows exactly who killed him) and to beg forgiveness.

what a way for a beautiful relationship to end

Genos doesn’t say anything. Nor does he hurry after Saitama, but after the latter has left, he bows deeply in gratitude and says that there’s nothing to forgive, for the old man did nothing wrong in his eyes.

The action recommences at dawn.  For the avoidance of all hope, we see that Saitama has buried the doctor in the forest with a chunck of the lab wall as a headstone and the shovel still stuck in the earth by the grave.  Genos comes out of the repair pod with a new body and the two of them take their leave.  Genos intends to take out Metal Knight immediately, before whatever the plan for a ‘general offensive’ is executed.  Saitama agrees to accompany him.  But as they walk along, there’s a light over the nearest city.  It seems ‘The Plan’ Machine God Tech talked about has begun.

Indeed, on the ground, there’s carnage as a formation of robots marches through, burning every building they pass and shooting down anything that moves.  Various heroes look on in numb horror as the army advances. 

That’s where this monster of a chapter ends.

never ones to half-ass things

Meta

Unsurprising Surprise

The Organization strikes at last.  Our longest-running villains finally show their hand. They’ve measured, they’ve planned, they’ve done their homework, made that list and checked it twice.  Fitting in with Metal Knight’s warning about a shadowy power waiting its time (in the manga, not the webcomic), they’ve struck right when the heroes are at their weakest.  We don’t know the extent  of it. Is City W the only place being scrubbed off the map, or is this part of a much more widespread trend?

Well, now we really do know that when Genos spoke of not only acting for himself when he introduced himself to Saitama, he was just telling the truth.  He might be looking for vengeance, but his scope was always much bigger than just himself.  It’s a shame things have had to deteriorate to this extent for us to see it.

If not now, when?

So this is it! This is as good as it gets for him then. If he is to survive, Genos will have to take a page from Drive Knight’s example and quickly master everything his new body has to offer.  We’ve (well I’ve) complained before that he’s merely competent at using what the doctor gives him, throwing parts and bodies away without giving himself a chance to truly get the best out of them.  No choice now.  And it looks like there’s a world to save -- no time to luxuriate in practice. Or grief.

Forgive me

A few years ago when I was still new to Reddit, one of my first posts was to ask if Dr Kuseno was a good man. Against his manifest good deeds in supporting Genos as he did, it didn’t sit well with me that he’d performed a Reverse Pinocchio on an ordinary boy, turning him into a living weapon.  Not hard to imagine that it wasn’t received too well by the sub, lol.  In time, as we got to see more of Kuseno, my position on him softened, but what the hell, doctor?  never went completely away.

With Kuseno’s dying words being apology, we see that he knew he’d done wrong by Genos.  He knew that roping him into his quest for justice came as much from his own selfishness and rage as it did from a desire to set the world to rights.  I’ve repeatedly said that the cyborg body Genos has has nothing to do with health. It was all about gaining the power to fight and forgoing a chance to have a life in the process.

And so Kuseno died, in agony, weeping and begging for a forgiveness that he never heard come.  He was buried like a dog in what had been his backyard. By a stranger.

Fuck.

That’s cold.

Now I’m not faulting Genos for not forgiving the old man to his hearing. But there’s a hardness to him that he’ll want watching lest it grow more.

this is why the Machine Gods always fail despite their detailed calculations.  They just do not understand the depth of the human heart, nor its importance.

But I’ll add one more thing.  Dr Kuseno did not just raise a warrior.  In the end, he raised a damn fine hero too.  In the end, I really hope that some great good might yet come out of this.

Saitama and compassion

I’m glad that Saitama is here.  I’m even more glad that he’s not been acting to try stealing the show, instead supporting Genos when the latter needs it. It’s not ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ But it is compassionate. 

What’s next?

Why fighting of course.  Lots of it. I hope that somehow, the fog of war ends up nevertheless clarifying the relationship between the Neo Heroes, The Organization, Metal Knight and possibly Drive Knight.  I’m ready for this arc to build to its crisis and resolve one way or the other.

Bits and pieces

Number 23 on the list?  If Kuseno weren’t keeping such a low profile, I’d be insulted on his behalf.

I surmised last chapter that Kuseno must have an extensive basement as the superstructure of his place looked positively humble.  West basement?  With multiple hangars?  That’s not a basement, that’s an underground castle.  I hope Genos has locked up after himself.  If he succeeds in putting sword to his enemies, he’ll want what’s in there.

Finally, with the way living and dying works in this world, I wonder if the old man might yet have survived if he’d not decided it was too late for him.  I guess we’ll never know. At least I hope not.  I hope he’s beyond the clutches of those who’d raise him to an undeath for their own purposes.

#OPM #meta #review #Genos #dr kuseno #Saitama #machine gods #The Organization #Metal Knight #long #what a brutal chapter #both in action and in emotion #so much ugliness #all I wanted Genos to be able to do was to finally protect someone that was important to him but even now it wasn't to be #and yet I do hope that there's some redemptive good that might be wrought out of this

[ghostgothgeek]

Chaos.

Another for the Phic Phight! This one kinda combines two prompts and I had so much fun writing it! In this, Danny and Tucker don’t know Sam plays video games yet. 5,063 words.

"What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We´ve had a mutual crush on each other for years." Sam says angrily after finally confessing her love to him. But Danny´s heart was beating hard for someone else entirely. Prompt by phantomfana. 

Danny wants to ask his crush to the upcoming school dance. Prompt by Rikaleeta.

-----

It was another long night of ghost hunting for Danny. Technus took up the first part of the night, trying to take over the park’s new security system. Tucker was fortunately still awake to help him out with that. Then Johnny and Kitty rolled in, but they weren’t looking for trouble, they just wanted a date night and swore they wouldn’t be a problem. Apparently Fridays were their days off for “everything but each other”. Danny was a romantic, but he didn’t know if this was sweet or nauseating. Ember had put up a good fight, though. He was proud he only had one injury to tend to. He had dodged most of her attacks, but she was still a pretty advanced ghost. And, of course, Danny had caught the Box Ghost six, count them, SIX times. How did he always manage to get out?! He wasn’t difficult to take down, he was just a pest. 

Danny sighed as he sat down at his computer chair. It was only 12:30 am, and it was a Friday. He could sleep in tomorrow and he deserved at least a couple hours of fun. He logged into his online gaming account and saw Tucker was online. Figures. He pulled up the chat anyway. 

Astrohaunt: Hey Tuck. Still up?

Technopedia: You know it. Chaos signed on about a half hour ago and I’m not passing up the opportunity.

Astrohaunt: Dude is so good it’s unreal!

Technopedia: He goes to our school, I tracked one of his IP addresses and he logged in at school a few times.

Astrohaunt: Tucker wtf. That’s creepy!

Technopedia: I just want to make sure Chaos is actually a kid and not Lancer again!

Astrohaunt: I still can’t wrap my mind around Lancer playing Doomed…

Technopedia: Same. But Chaos IP is different from Lancer, so we good. Unless more teachers play Doomed.

Astrohaunt: I hate you for putting that image into my brain.

Technopedia: Sorry dude. But quick come join before someone else gets Chaos.

Danny, Tucker, and Chaos had made a great team. Whenever Chaos was around, they were actually able to progress through the game. They played several rounds until Tucker was caught by his mom and was forced to sign off, but Danny and Chaos kept playing. 

TeamChaos: Hey, what’s up?

Astrohaunt: Omg dude you’re so awesome. 

TeamChaos: Ha, thanks. Gotta blow off steam somehow. 

Astrohaunt: Tell me about it! Between Lancer’s three projects and midterms and...other stuff...this is my only time to actually chill. I’ve been so stressed!

TeamChaos: Same. I did finish one of the projects though. I’m always here if you need to talk, you know. 

Astrohaunt: Wow, I may just take you up on that offer. I’ve had a rough night.

TeamChaos: Lay it on me.

And so Danny, sparing the ghost hunting details, stayed up chatting with Chaos until 5 am. He got along really well with the guy, they had a lot of similar interests. This was just the first of many up-all-night conversations they shared. After a few months, Danny felt a special connection with Chaos, and yet, he didn’t even know his name! 

Astrohaunt: We’ve been talking all these months and I still don’t know your name. I’m Danny. 

TeamChaos: Oh, thought you knew. It’s Sam!

Astrohaunt: Hey! One of my best friends is named Sam! 

TeamChaos: You don’t say!!!

The next day at school, Danny pulled Tucker over to him, whispering, “Dude, help. I think I might be gay....” 

“What?!” Tucker shouted.

“Quiet, Tuck!” 

“Okay, well uh...why?” Tucker sent him a weird look and took a step back. 

“No, not you. Chaos. I think I have a crush on Chaos.” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do! I never thought I’d be...you know. Chaos and I just have good conversations and he’s always there to listen to me when I need to vent. I thought maybe I found another best friend but...this is different. Chaos is so cool and I’m crushing and I don’t even know who he is or what he looks like! Or if he feels the same way! Maybe I’m just stupid and-”

“Dude, chill. You’re jumping too far ahead of yourself. Whichever way you, you know, swing...I’m still your best friend.” Tucker pulled out his PDA. “Let me see what I can find out. I know Chaos goes to our school.”

“Thanks, Tuck. As if being half ghost wasn’t hard enough! Oh, and he’s in our class, because he’s talked me through assignments and knows what they are and stuff. He’s almost as good as explaining things as Sam. Crap...Sam. Don’t tell her about this!” Danny started fidgeting. 

“Well,” Tucker raised his eyebrows in surprise, “I can tell you with absolute certainty that Chaos is definitely a girl.” 

“You found out who Chaos is?!” 

“What, like it’s hard?” Tucker chuckled. “I traced the IP addresses she uses. I know who she is. So do you,” Tucker smirked, “It shocked me at first, but it makes total sense! And I can totally see why you like her.” 

“Really?” Danny let out a breath in relief. “Okay that makes me feel a lot better...hey, maybe I can ask Chaos to the dance next Saturday!” 

Tucker rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Go for it. Ask Sam. I’m almost positive she’ll say yes.”

“Okay, I will...wait, not Sam! Chaos!” Danny clarified. “Well, actually, I think Chaos told me her name was Sam. Ha, small world. I can’t wait to introduce Sam to Sam. I think they would really get along.” 

Tucker busted out laughing, “Oh, dude. You go ahead and do that.” He left Danny standing there in the hallway, still laughing all the way to his next class.

Danny, a bit confused by Tucker’s laughter, shook his head and smiled to himself. Okay, good. He’d had enough identity crises to fill a lifetime. Chaos was definitely a girl. Now if he just knew Chaos returned his feelings, things might actually work out for him this time and he could actually have a girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Sam was having an internal debate of her own. Sitting in a class where the teacher couldn’t give two shits about what the students were doing, she had always used this class as her thinking time. Usually her thinking-about-Danny time. She nervously clicked her pen as she thought about recent events. 

She and Danny spent so much time chatting online when they weren’t hanging out in person. Danny was a little bit more bold online, probably because he didn’t have to interact face-to-face or risk his pants falling down in public again. Online, they talked about everything. No topic was off limits. Plus, Sam felt like their friendship had only grown even stronger when they could chat online and not have to worry about blushing or getting teased by Tucker. Chatting online took away all the pressure and made it much easier to connect with Danny. 

Danny hadn’t said anything yet, of course. He was probably scared. Hell, she was scared. She was already so in love with him, and getting closer online only further solidified that fact. She had never been in love before, and even though she hunts ghosts, this was more terrifying! She was fairly certain he returned her feelings, but both were too chicken to actually make that final step. They’ve been best friends forever. She didn’t want to mess up their already great dynamic or force Tucker to be the third wheel, though he did insist he was more than okay with that and encouraged them to finally get together. 

Sam stopped clicking her pen as she suddenly remembered it was senior year. They hadn’t picked colleges yet, but whether they ended up going to the same school or not, things were going to change. Danny was very attractive, and going off to college meant girls may actually approach him when they didn’t know his parents were ghost fighters. The fact had never bothered Sam, but she did kind of like how it kept most girls at school from asking him out or giving him attention. Valerie had been a challenge, especially because she was a ghost hunter herself and probably wanted to get tips from his parents. Sam was glad that relationship ended relatively early. It was too hard on her. Joyous or not, though, she was still mad at Valerie for how she broke his heart. 

But that was 2 years ago. They had all moved on and friendships were more or less mended across the board. This made Sam glance at her favorite picture of her and Danny. Tucker had taken the candid picture and it was now her phone’s background. In it, Danny was giving Sam a piggyback ride. Her arms were lightly strung around his neck, legs looped around his waist. Danny had kept going in the opposite direction Sam told him to go, which frustrated her but also made her laugh. She had rested her chin on his shoulder, her face pressed right up against his. Danny was looking at her and Tucker had captured that rare moment when Sam had a huge grin on her face, still laughing. She smiled at the picture. They would be okay no matter what. Their friendship would survive.

Anyway, Sam also realized she had already come close to losing Danny, in more ways than one. Whether it was to other girls or a ghost, there was always that anxiety stirring in her head that she could lose him entirely some day. Life was too short. She needed to take the plunge for both of them and just get them both over this hurdle, and they could finally, finally, actually get together. 

Sam made her decision. It was now or never. She was going to tell him. Today. The trio was meeting up at Danny’s house later anyway, and if she got there early enough, she could talk to him before Tucker showed up and teased them about it. Sam firmly nodded her head to herself, a confirmation of her decision. It was finally time.

After school, Danny was pacing in his room, trying to figure out how he wanted to do this. Asking a girl to the dance wasn’t a huge deal, and yet at the same time, it was. He would rather ask in person, but he still didn’t know what Chaos looked like, so asking in person seemed to be off the table. He could look in the yearbook for all the girls named Sam at their school. He could already omit one Sam Manson from that list. How many Sams could possibly attend their school? It would be easier to ask Tucker, though. Tucker already knew who she was. Sam and Tucker were on their way over right now. When Sam wasn’t paying attention, he could ask Tucker for Sam’s full name. 

Chaos Sam, not best friend Sam. God, this was so confusing. Why were girls so hard for him? Freshman year, Paulina only liked his ghost half and wouldn’t give his human half the time of day. Sophomore year, Valerie hated his ghost half and that hatred was more important to her than her feelings for his human half. Junior year, he had been denying that he was in love with his best friend. And now that he had finally accepted that he did like his best friend as much more than a friend, a new girl entered the picture and he now found himself trying to choose between two Sams. Because it apparently wasn’t hard enough for him already to make the biggest and most important change he could possibly make in a friendship, let’s add another crush to the mix and give them the same name.

Sam. Best friend Sam - that’s who he was planning on asking originally, even if he chickened out and had to ask her as a friend instead. Plus, he and Sam had somehow gotten closer recently, and he was pretty sure she liked him. Sure, it was only because Tucker told him so, but it was a possibility. The thing was, he didn’t want to ruin things. Especially because he truly didn’t know how Sam, best friend Sam, felt about him. She was a tough and courageous girl, surely she would have said something by now if it were true. So Tucker must be pulling his leg.

But he did have another option - Chaos Sam, who may actually return his feelings. Sure, the feelings weren’t nearly as strong as what he felt for his best friend, but the feelings were still there. Plus, if he got rejected by Chaos, it would be less heartbreaking than being rejected by Sam, someone he had known for years rather than months. He could deal with losing a newer friend, but not one of his best friends. Sam was too important and he knew he needed her in his life.

Danny sighed. This was really hard, but he made a decision. It was easier to go with Chaos than risk ruining things with Sam. Danny had enough drama going on in his life already, he needed an easy win. 

He broke from his thoughts when the doorbell rang. He ran downstairs and opened it, only slightly surprised to see Sam there. She was usually early for things. He and Tuck were more prone to being late. 

“Hey, Sam. Come on in!” Danny moved so Sam could enter his house. He shut the door and followed her upstairs and back to his room as she returned his greeting. She was pacing the same path he just had, muttering quietly to herself. She looked nervous. “Something on your mind?” 

Sam was startled out of her thoughts. “Huh? Oh yeah.” She noticed his disheveled appearance, also noting he was fidgety. Was he going to do what she was about to do? “What about you, you look like you’ve been thinking a little too hard about something.” She smiled softly. 

Danny chuckled, “Yeah, but it’ll resolve itself soon. I’ll worry about it after the movies. Tuck should be here any second. Oh, but I’m glad you’re early. Can you help me with something quick?” 

“Of course.” Sam followed him to his desk, smiling and rolling her eyes when he pointed to a homework problem. “I should have known.” 

Danny gave her a lopsided smile and watched as she showed him how to do the problem in her perfect handwriting. It took no more than a couple of minutes. Now, they were just waiting for Tucker to arrive. 

Sam looked at the time. He would be here soon. She needed to do this now. She needed to tell Danny. She couldn’t wait until after the movies for him to tell her. She had already waited long enough and couldn’t bear another second.

“Danny, can I talk to you for a second?” She sat down on his bed and gestured for him to do the same. 

Danny could sense the seriousness in her voice, and nodded anxiously. He was scared when Sam was serious about things. It was usually something bad.

“Danny…” She decided to get straight to the point. “I like you. As in like-like you. More than like, and more than a friend. And we’ve been doing this dancing around for at least 4 years now and I’m sick of it. I just want to be with you already. What do you say?” Sam held her breath as she waited for Danny to answer. 

He stared at her with wide eyes before nervously rubbing the back of his neck and turning his attention to his shoes, avoiding eye contact with the goth. God, why him?! He had stupidly thought, for once, things would be easier for him this time. He had already sent an offline message to Chaos that he wanted to ask her something, and then Sam had to come along and tell him what he had wanted to hear for some time now. But he couldn’t blow Chaos off when he had already somewhat asked. Of course, his life just had to be complicated every step of the way. He really liked both girls and didn’t want to hurt his best friend. Regardless, he had to be honest. He owed Sam that much. “Well, I mean, yeah, but…” 

“But what?” Sam whispered, clearly already upset. Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He decided to try going with Chaos so he could avoid heartbreak from his best friend. The very thing he had been so afraid of, he was doing to her right now. 

Danny sighed again. “But I can’t. I’m so sorry, Sam.” It was hard to choke out, but he said it, and he felt terrible. He pressed his lips together and kept staring at his shoes until Sam lifted his chin up, forcing him to look at her. 

“What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We’ve had mutual crushes on each other for years!” Sam said angrily, feeling her heart break as her best friend and love of her life rejected her confession of love. She was so sure he returned her feelings! Especially after all the great conversations they had shared online these last few months. “Or, at least, I thought we did.” Tears swelled in her eyes. Did he lead her on? “I-I need an explanation, Danny,” she quietly stated after he didn’t continue. 

Danny frowned and his heart ached. He didn’t want to hurt his best friend like this. Hell, he really liked her! Of course their crushes were mutual! And if this had happened 6 months ago instead of now, he would have jumped at the chance. But now...now he had Chaos and already forced himself to stick with his decision. It was easy with Chaos; there was no friendship to risk, no denying of being lovebirds or brushing off kisses as fakeout makeouts. Plus, he couldn’t lie to his best friend. She would know if he was lying. And he already told himself she deserved the truth. “There’s...someone else…” 

“What?” Sam whispered before turning angry again, “Paulina? Valerie? Star?” she spat out. 

Danny shook his head, “Ew, no...it’s someone I met online...I’m so sorry, Sam. I like you a lot, I really do, but I think I’ve already come to the conclusion that I like this girl I met online, Chaos, and I have to try to see that through.” 

Many emotions crossed Sam’s face as she pieced together what he just said. At first she was upset, but as he explained himself, she felt disbelief, confusion, anger, and finally, hope. He couldn’t really be that clueless, right? “Show me.” 

“Huh? I mean, I don’t actually know what she looks like, but we message every night and she really understands me! I know it sounds ridiculous, but-” 

“Show me,” Sam repeated. “Show me her profile.” 

“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Danny questioned cautiously.

“No, of course not. Just shut up and show me the profile.” Sam was more calm now, and that was kind of scary. Even though Sam said she wouldn’t hurt Chaos, he didn’t want to give her the chance. But he knew how stubborn his friend was, and eventually in whatever way, she would force the information out of him. 

Danny sighed and pulled up the profile to show Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m still your best frien-” 

“Shut up.” Sam scrolled through what Danny pulled up for her and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Closing her eyes slowly, she took a deep breath. “Didn’t Chaos tell you her name?” 

“Uh,” Danny thought, “oh yeah! She said her name was Sam, because I thought she was a boy at first and I had an existential crisis, but then Tucker told me-” 

“Danny. I’m Sam.” 

“No I know, and sure it’ll be a little weird cause you’re Sam and she’s Sam, it’s confusing, but I-” 

Sam interrupted him once again. She could hear Tucker’s footsteps approaching. She was running out of time to not make this a spectacle. “No, Danny. Chaos. Sam. Me. I’m Sam. I am Sam,” 

Tucker only heard the tail end of the conversation as he entered the room. Never able to pass up a comedic opportunity, he smirked and added “I am Sam. Sam I am. I do not like green eggs and ham!” 

It was suddenly silent in the room as his friends seized conversation and glared at him. Oops. 

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Tucker could see the fire in Sam’s eyes. “Uh, oh wait I forgot my...sock. I’ll be downstairs!” He raced out of the room.

Sam turned her attention back to Danny. “No, you stupid fucking MORON. I am Chaos. You’ve been talking to me the whole time. I thought you knew that!” Danny stared at her blankly until she pulled out her phone and he watched her log into her account, proving it to him. Sure enough, it was Chaos’s profile. He could see all the direct messages between them, including his offline message about wanting to ask her something.

“Wait, you? You’re Sam? I mean, Chaos? I mean Sam?” Danny looked back and forth between the profile and his best friend. 

“UGH!” Sam shouted as she threw her hands in the air. “Yes, Danny. That’s me! Did you really not notice that Chaos was the same age as me and a girl who goes to our school? We have the same name and interests! Didn’t you wonder why it was so easy to talk right off the bat? I thought you put that all together and us just pretending to not know each other was a little bit you were trying to do or something!” 

Danny stared at her as he continued to piece it all together. He was definitely embarrassed. He felt so stupid. How could he not tell that Chaos was Sam, his best friend since 7th grade? Talk about being totally clueless. 

Wait. Clueless? Well, fuck! He got the nickname now! 

His eyes flickered back and forth as he thought everything through. Eventually, he started to crack a smile. “Wait, so I’ve had a crush on you and also you? You’re the same person! This is great! Do you know what this means?!” 

Sam slapped her forehead and began walking downstairs. “I don’t even know if this is worth it anymore…” 

“Wait, how come Tuck and I never knew you played video games! We can enter team tournaments! You’re so good!” Danny chased after her. 

Tucker watched as Sam grumbled about Danny caring more about video games than her. An excited Danny was right on her tail. 

“Tucker! Sam is Chaos! I’ve been in love with Sam this whole time!” Danny explained. 

“Tucker, I need you to refrain me from slapping his stupid clueless face,” Sam started. 

“Wait, you didn’t know Sam was Chaos? Dude! I thought I was obvious about that!” Tucker began laughing at Danny. 

“I know, so did I.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Danny, you can calculate levels of rocket fuel and figure out how to get us to Mercury or something,” Tucker started. 

“Mars, actually,” Danny corrected. 

“But you can’t figure out that your best friend and your crush are the same person? You’re more than Captain Clueless, you’re like….Lieutenant Clueless? That’s like, bigger right?” Tucker continued. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Tuck,” Sam chimed in. 

“Shut up Sam, this isn’t about you,” Tucker immediately stopped his train of thought when he felt Sam glaring daggers at him. “Heh, uh. Except it does. It actually has nothing to do with me. I’m sorry I told you to shut up, please don’t hurt me!” He threw his hands up in front of himself in defense. 

“Relax, Tucker. I’m more angry with this fucking dingus,” she pointed her thumb in Danny’s direction. 

The halfa was about to protest, then closed his mouth. “That’s fair, I deserve that.” 

“I can’t even look at you right now. You scared me! I poured out my emotions to you. I thought you were rejecting me and that I would have to change my name and move to a different country! Wait, are you still rejecting me?” Sam stopped her pacing to look at him. 

“Of course not, Sammy!” 

“Oh don’t you ‘Sammy’ me! I told you I love you, you stupid fucking idiot!” Sam began throwing pillows at Danny, who expertly dodged them (though as a result, Tucker got hit in the face by one). 

“Technically, you didn’t say ‘love’ you said ‘like’”, Danny offered as Tucker shook his head and slashed finger across his neck, signaling Danny to stop talking. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! This is all my fault! I’m going to go jump off a cliff now!” Sam growled and Danny let out a small “oomph” as one of the pillows finally got him. 

“I’m out. Good luck, bro!” Tucker quickly slipped out the door, leaving Danny and Sam alone. 

Sam was about to follow Tucker out when Danny stopped her, “please don’t leave!” She still had angry tears in her eyes. He frowned. This was not how he expected things to go. She watched him for a few seconds before sitting down on the couch, refusing to look at him. “Sam I’m so sorry, this is just a huge misunderstanding.”

“No, Danny. It’s not. You were going to turn me down to go out with someone else.”

“But that someone was still you!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that! We’ve been friends for years, and you were more interested in someone you just met a few months ago! I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice, Danny! I’ve been standing by for years as you continuously chose other girls over me. I thought we were done with that, and that you were finally choosing me first, but you won’t and you never will and I’m so stupid.” Sam put her head in her hands as she tried her hardest not to let tears fall. 

And that was when he finally figured it out. It wasn’t just the moment of rejection, it was years of rejection, and at her biggest confession, she still thought he was choosing someone over her. Not to mention, Tucker witnessed most of the conversation. Sam rarely showed her emotions. She always had her heart guarded, and he knew this. Tucker knew this. Hell, she didn’t even tell them she was rich until after a few years of friendship. It took them a while to get her to open up to them. She was a pretty private person. She was probably already hurt like this before. And now, she was probably embarrassed.

“You’re definitely not stupid. I’m stupid. I should have known it was you. That was actually what I really liked about Chaos, she reminded me of you.” 

Sam forced a small sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, right.” 

“No really,” Danny sat on the couch next to her and grabbed her hand, placing it in both of his. “Sam, you’re absolutely incredible. How dumb would I have to be to not notice?” Sam gave him a pointed look. “Okay yeah but it’s not the way you think it is. I liked Chaos because she was a lot like you. She reminded me of you. And it just seemed easier to go with her because she was basically you, but she and I didn’t have a really great friendship that could have gotten ruined if we broke up or something. I could live without her, but I can’t live without you. You’re always my number one. Always have been, always will be. Even if I did just fuck everything up. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m ready to be with you, if you’ll still have me.” 

Sam stayed silent and stared at her lap, processing this new information. Of course she would forgive him; she always did. She just needed a little time. 

Danny was getting nervous that he really did fuck this up for good. This was so fucking important! He couldn’t risk fucking this up! Sensing her hesitation, Danny tried one more thing to get her back. One thing he hasn’t done before. One thing he just learned how to perfect.  

“Sammy, I’m sorry,” a duplicate popped up next to her on the other side of the couch, startling her. 

“Please forgive me?” Another duplicate was floating in front of her, hanging upside down, hair flopping all over the place. 

“I know I’m a dummy but,” Sam snapped her head towards a third duplicate. 

“I’m only a dummy because I’m in love. With you,” the real Danny finished. Sam looked back and forth between all the Dannys.  

“We’re sorry, Sammy,” all the duplicates said at once. 

Sam was trying really hard to hold back a smile. “You learned how to duplicate,” she stated simply. 

Original Danny grabbed her hands. “Sam. I will make this up to you. I promise.” 

She could hear the determination in his voice and sighed. “You better.” 

Danny smiled and hugged her. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! I love you so much!”

Sam pushed him off of her. “I love you too, you fucking idiot.” 

“But I get to be your idiot!” Sam couldn’t hold her laughter back anymore. “Oh!” Danny shouted, “Will you go to the dance with me? Please?” 

Sam pretended to ponder the answer before saying “alright”. 

“Yay!” All 4 Dannys cheered. The duplicates on either side of her kissed her cheeks as the real Danny kissed her forehead tenderly. The final duplicate, feeling left out, squeezed his way in to give her a hug. 

Sam was now roaring with laughter before kissing the real Danny sweetly. “You know, duplicates won’t always get you out of trouble,” she warned. 

“Yeah, but they could come in handy for other things,” he wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively before passionately kissing her, the duplicates kissing her neck and touching her in near-dangerous places. 

Sam bit back a moan, eyes lustful before smirking, “I think you just found a way to make it up to me.” She began dragging the real Danny and one of his duplicates back to his room. Fuck the movies.

#phic phight 2021 #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #amethyst ocean #also yes I took a prompt that was kinda anti-AO and turned it into AO #it's my super power #AO ho 4 life #stephanie writes sometimes

[woah-were-halfway-there]

The Sweetest of Them All

A/N: just another little bonus part of the AFTR universe that I came up with out of nowhere. Also, I left this as third person instead of second. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.2k

Y/N has never been a big fan of Valentine's Day.

To her, it was overrated and expensive. But, she'd be lying if she said she didn't love the fact that it gave an extra reason to love on Auston a ridiculous amount. Sure, she did that every day, but to be fair, she loved how the title of Valentine's Day added a bit more fun and excitement to something she'd normally do any other day. It felt different for some reason, so even though she didn't love the so-called holiday, she still tried to plan something special for it every year.

Admittedly, she and Auston almost got competitive about it with trying to one-up the other with affection. They didn't care about gifts. They cared about the time they spent together and the thoughtfulness behind it.

Usually, it was Y/N that came up with something ridiculously sweet for Valentine's Day to do for Auston. However, this year, he had her beat.

For some odd reason, Y/N woke up very early that day. Maybe it was the baby waking her, or perhaps it was her internal clock saying sleep was no longer necessary. But, regardless, she was awake much earlier than usual. She also knew Mia wasn't awake or else she would've heard her, so she took that time to lie back in bed and relax for a few minutes on her own.

The bed felt incredibly empty, given that Auston was with the Leafs in Washington and wasn't expected to be back in Toronto until late that night. Frank was a good cuddle buddy alternative, but sometimes the Goldendoodle just wasn't enough when Y/N was missing her man. Of course, this was one of the days when she missed him a lot, so she took that as an excuse to text Auston and at least get this so-called holiday kicked off.

Y/N Happy Valentine's Day, Aus 🥰 can't wait to see you tonight

She wasn't expecting him to message back right away, seeing as it was only 7:30 in the morning, but much to her surprise, he did.

Auston Happy Valentine's Day, babe 💕 Can't wait to see you either. Did the flowers for Mia get delivered?

Y/N Yes, they got here last night. They're beautiful. I set them on the kitchen counter, so once she's awake and we go downstairs, she'll see her little V-Day gift from you

Auston Perfect. I got part of your Valentine's thing with me right now too. Ready for it?

Y/N Is it going to make me cry?

Auston Probably

Y/N Great. Hit me with your best shot

She stared at her phone screen for a moment, expecting it to light up with the notification of an incoming FaceTime call from her husband or a picture, but instead, he sent her a link. But not just any link, it was the link to the video recording of a new Spittin' Chiclets podcast episode that was over an hour-long called 'Love Day: Part One.'

Confused, but also insanely curious, Y/N then leaned over to grab her laptop from the bedside table and got into the most comfortable position her growing baby bump would allow so she could watch the video like that. As soon as she was about to press play, her phone buzzed with another text.

Auston This was filmed a couple of weeks ago when the Chiclets guys were in Toronto. They interviewed at least 10 different guys in the league at different times, and they're kind of long, which is why there's more than one part. Just watch the intro, then I'm the first interview. Mitch is on part 2 if you want to watch that as well, but yeah... call me when you're done 💕

Still unsure of how to process what was going on, Y/N just shook her head and followed the link.

The video started with Biz, Whit and Rear sat all-around a table, each wearing a different red, white or pink shirt with heart-shaped balloons positioned behind them. Empty bottles of Pink Whitney sat on the table, acting as vases for bouquets of roses, making Y/N roll her eyes and chuckle at how far these guys would go for good product placement. But, she kept watching, and unsurprisingly, Biz was the first to speak.

Biz: "For Valentines Day this year, we wanted to do something different. Something more soft. So, we're going to tell, well, I guess, show some love stories."

Whit: "Bet you all didn't know that some of the greatest love stories to ever be told have happened to some of the guys that play in the NHL. Don't believe me? Guess you'll have to listen to find out what they are."

Rear: "We asked some players to come in and talk to us about their relationship stories and give as many details as they were willing to give. And let me tell you, they were great. To start us off, we have Auston Matthews of the Toronto Maple Leafs telling us his fairytale romance."

The video then clipped to a shot of Biz sitting next to Auston in what Y/N assumed was the hotel downtown that the Chiclets guys were staying at. Auston wasn't dressed extravagantly or anything, just wore a grey hoodie, black pants, and his signature Raiders snapback.

Y/N immediately recognized his outfit. She remembered Auston coming home in those same clothes early one afternoon after he did some running around downtown with Mia, and started thinking of how not once did he mention doing anything for the podcast. He kept this very on the down low, and Y/N was excited to see how it would all play out.

Biz: "Alright, with us today, we have none other than the Leafs number 34, Auston Matthews. Welcome back to the show, Auston. How ya doin?"

Auston: "I'm great. Thanks for having me. How are you guys?"

Whit and Rear: "Good."

Biz: "Great, real good. Now, Auston, you know what you're here to talk about, right?"

Auston: (chuckling) "You're acting like you didn't spend the last week blowing up my phone until I agreed to do this."

Biz: "Amazing! You do know. So, here's how it's all going to go down. We've got a list of questions about your relationship with your significant other. Your obvious better half. And are going to take turns asking them so the people listening at home can get a bit of insight on your, and I quote, iconic love story. Why don't you give us a little summary of your relationship before we dive in?"

Auston: (hesitantly) "Sure, okay. So, my wife Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. Our anniversary is at the end of July. She accidentally forgot it last year, which I haven't let her live down. Y/N, babe, this is your six month in advance warning that our anniversary is indeed coming up again this year… She's going to hate that I mentioned that. We, uh, we've been together since my first season in Toronto, so for a pretty long time now, and it's been amazing. We have a daughter, Amelia, but everyone just calls her Mia unless she's in trouble. She just turned two on January 25th, and we have our second baby on the way. They're due to be making their grand appearance in late June. We also have our firstborn, Frank, the Goldendoodle. Can't forget about him. But, yeah, that's my little family."

Whit: (nodding along with Biz and Rear) "Fair enough. Now, how and when did you and Y/N meet exactly?"

Auston: "We met on the night of my first NHL game back in 2016. She was at that game."

Biz: "Oh, yeah? Was she there for a reason?"

Auston gave him an unimpressed look.

Biz: "What?"

Auston: "You know why she was there!"

Biz: (shrugging) "Our listeners don't. C'mon, refresh my memory. Was she there to cheer someone else on?"

Auston: (shaking his head) "Yeah. She, uh, she's a cousin of one of my teammates, so she was there with their family to watch him during our first game."

Biz: (grinning widely) "What teammate?"

Auston: "The one out in the hallway keeping my daughter occupied while you keep being annoying and asking me questions you already know the answer to."

Everyone laughed at that, including Y/N, as she shifted onto her side, being mindful of her growing bump that seemingly became more noticeable each day, and got comfortable as she braced herself for what the rest of this interview would entail.

Biz: (still laughing): "Just to clarify for everyone who still doesn't know, he's talking about Mitch Marner."

Auston: "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

Rear: "I take it that Mitch and Mia get along really well? I haven't heard a peep from her since you came in here."

Auston: "Oh, she loves him. Yeah, that's her Mitchy, alright. Him and Steph, who you will hear all about once Mitch comes in here, are Mia's godparents and some of her favourite people."

Whit: "That's awesome. And how was that at first, though, being romantically involved with one of your teammates' family members? Sounds like grounds for some chaos, if I'm honest."

Auston: "It sure made meeting the family a bit more nerve-wracking. I'm just kidding. No, it was fine. It was definitely a little awkward at first trying to figure out how I was going to tell Mitch that I wanted to date his cousin. Like, he and Y/N are very close. Always have been. And the last thing both me and Y/N wanted was for Mitch to be uncomfortable. He did handle it really well, though. It's because of him I was even able to get to know her in the first place, which I'll never be able to thank him enough for."

Rear: "Now, you're a pretty private guy. You post the odd picture of your little family from time to time. Y/N is rather private, as well. So, really, no one knows your guys' story other than those who have lived it with you or watched it unfold. I'm sure many people will jump right on the chance to listen to this, seeing as you and Y/N are one of the most beloved couples in the NHL. But, what exactly made you want to come on here, give a bit of insight into your private life, and talk about it all?"

Auston: "Well, for one, Biz would not stop asking me to do it. Literally kept calling and texting me for days until I finally agreed."

Whit: "Shocker."

Biz: "Hey, now."

Auston: (chuckling) "That and also I figured, why not. I love my wife, and I love our little story. It's nice to think back on everything that's happened and see how it all got us to where we are now. With all the ups and the downs, its uh, it's been an amazing ride for sure, and I wouldn't change it for a thing. Also, it's for Valentine's Day. I haven't told her I'm doing this, so when you guys drop the episode, I'm just going to send it to her without much context."

Whit: "Do you think she'll cry?"

Auston: "Absolutely. I know this kind of thing would make her tear up regularly, but those pregnancy hormones have got her bad. Without a doubt, she's going to call me crying once she's done watching this."

Y/N scoffed as he said that and grabbed some tissues to wipe away the waterworks she already felt coming on.

Biz: "I've met Y/N many times now. The first time being back in what, 2018?"

The screen then showed an old picture of Biz sitting in a restaurant with his arm wrapped around Y/N's shoulders, both smiling widely as they held up their drinks, with Auston seemingly moping off to the side a little bit. Y/N chuckled at the image, instantly thinking back to the day she first met Paul Bissonnette and how wild it was before the photo faded away and showed the guys again.

Biz: "Yeah, it was when she was in Scottsdale visiting you during the summer. Great girl, completely out of Auston's league."

Auston: "Hey!"

Biz: "I'll never forget you sassing her when she commented on how hot Arizona was, with her being Canadian and all, but damn she was fast putting you in your place by calling you a, what was it?"

Auston: (grumbling) "Desert Boy."

Everyone burst out laughing again, except Auston, who just rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

Auston: "Whatever. She sasses me all the time when I complain about the snow, but the one time I do it back, I get called a Desert Boy and can never live it down."

Biz: (still laughing) "Ugh, amazing. Okay, moving on because we don't have much time and can probably fit in like two more questions. So, Auston, tell us how you knew that Y/N was the end game for you. How did you know that she was the one?"

Auston: "Oh, man. I don't even know how to explain it. Growing up, you see all these movies and shows, or read books where people always find someone who is their soulmate. Their perfect match. And I never knew what the feeling of finding that person was because I had never experienced it. My mom would tell me that when I did find that person, I'd know. That it'll be such an intense feeling, and to be honest, I didn't believe her. Until I met Y/N, I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. The first time I met her, something drew me in, and I knew I wanted to get to know her better right away. Mitch spoke so highly of her, so did the other guys on the team that had already met her and over the first couple of months of us knowing each other, I saw what they meant. She quickly became one of my best friends ever. When we started dating, I saw more of how good a person she is, which attracted me even more. She is so selfless and caring for everyone around her; it truly blows my mind. I had never seen my family welcome a girl I introduced them to as quickly as they did her, and I trust their judgment the most. But even if they didn't do that, I know they would have accepted her regardless because, honestly, I probably seemed like a lovesick idiot. I still do. Y/N became this significant light in my life that I knew I wanted to be there forever. I began thinking about what it'd be like spending the rest of my life with her. Then it became something that I knew I needed. I can't imagine my life without her, and I never want to. She makes me so happy and has given me more than I could ever thank her for. I'll never understand how I, of all people, was the one to capture her massive heart, but I do know how lucky I am."

As he spoke, the screen showed a little picture slideshow of Y/N and Auston over the years of their relationship. It started with one that Ema took the first time Y/N had ever gone to Scottsdale. Y/N was sitting on the edge of a pool, and her legs dipped into the water. Auston stood between them as he wrapped his arms around her middle and leaned against her while looking over at where Ema stood taking the picture. The next one was from a Christmas party where the two were under a mistletoe as Auston leaned Y/N back and was kissing her cheek as she laughed and held onto him for dear life. There was a picture of them with Auston's family, one of them with Mitch and Steph, and another of Auston with his arms around Nate and Mya, Y/N's younger brother and sister, as the three smiled at the camera and Y/N was in the background looking confused.

The last few pictures were a bit more recent. They showed Y/N holding Frank as a puppy, a maternity photo of her and Auston posing when she was pregnant with Mia, and one of them on their wedding day with Mia and the rest of the gang. Then, the slideshow concluded with a very recent picture of them taken just a couple of weeks prior at Mia's birthday party, where Auston has his arms wrapped around Y/N from the back, showcasing her growing belly. At the same time, she leaned against him and glanced over her shoulder at him lovingly. The photos then went away and showed the guys again as Auston finished speaking.

Auston was right. Y/N was full-on bawling by that point.

All the guys were smiling as Auston finished saying his thing, but were soon interrupted by a knocking noise followed by a door opening.

Mitch: (offscreen) "Wait, no! Don't let her in!"

Mia: (also offscreen) "Daddy!"

Mia then came into the frame as she ran towards Auston, not caring about what was going on or who was there. Auston was quick reacting as he smiled widely and scooped Mia right up into his arms, making sure to place multiple kisses on her cheek as she giggled and squirmed in his hold, while Mitch became visible too and shrugged.

Auston: "Hi, mini. I missed you. Did you have fun with Mitchy?"

Mia: "Yeah! Where's mommy, daddy?"

Auston: "She's at home, baby girl. I'm almost done, then we can go get a Timbit while we wait for Mitch to be done. Sounds good?"

Mia: (knuckling at her eyes, tiredly) "Mhmm."

Rear: "This is adorable."

Biz: "Hi, Mia."

Mia: (shyly while hiding against Auston's chest a bit) "Hi, Biz."

Whit: (laughing) "Okay, I think we've kept you long enough now, Auston. Is there anything else you and Mia would like to say to Y/N?"

Auston: "Yes. Happy Valentine's Day, babe. I love you so much, and I'm sorry I'm not there right now. You're going to hear a lot more from me on actual Valentine's Day, but for right now, I think that's just about it. Mia, can you blow a kiss to the camera so mommy can see it and say 'happy Love Day!'"

Mia: (blows the kiss) "Happy Love Day, mommy!"

Auston: "Can you tell her that you love her?"

Mia: "Love you!"

Auston and Mia then waved to the camera and said bye as the clip faded out, and a new interview of another NHLer began playing.

Y/N's heart felt so full. She couldn't stop crying over how much she loved her family and how badly she needed to hear something like that. Life had been particularly hard on her as of late and seemed to keep throwing her curveballs, but this, this was exactly what she needed. To be reminded of how loved she is and that she genuinely is never alone.

She then grabbed her phone to call Auston and remind him of how much she loved him, that day and every day. The two talked for a few minutes before Y/N was pretty sure she could hear Mia waking up. After saying their goodbyes, Y/N found herself thinking about how, regardless of how she feels about the actual day, this was a Valentine's Day she will never forget.

#auston matthews fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs fanfiction #nhl headcanon #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

[vesperlionheart]

Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move. For KisaSaku. :D

KisaSaku & a belated happy birthday for @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth!

(Sort of a companion fix to This One)

‘In matters of inheritance in the land of Kirigkure, the country is old and small enough to cultivate its leftover practices from the oldest days, when Kiri citizens had to fight tooth and nail to protect what was once only a small fishing inlet. Their monarchy equivalent is selected from the previous ruler and approved by a majority vote from the three departments.’

“It shouldn’t count until an official hearing is held to conclude such matters,” Sakura grumbled to mostly herself. Mei was the least sympathetic out of all her supporters when it came to Sakura’s mood and opinions on her stupid country inheritance.

When Mei heard Sakura’s grumbles she only giggled and added another ‘grievance’ scroll to the ever increasing pyramid of incoming missives that would need to be addressed by the end of the day. “Honestly, you have no one else to blame but yourself. What did you expect would happen when you arrived on our borders with all of Tsunade’s tutelage and the copy nin’s keen sense for seeing underneath the underneath? You thought we’d let you go?”

Speaking of Kakashi made Sakura remember the old man’s poor advice: “Just go and check them out. Get in a few fights, drink a little and show them how terrible of a leader you would really be.”

That had worked out terribly.

While Sakura was legally considered a citizen of Kiri, she had grow up outside its boarders and adapted to the culture of the Fire Country where it mattered to have manners with strangers. Her strategy had been to walk in with a buzz and a beer in hand, provoke a shop keep, fight a swordsman-a legendary swordsman-and curse her way out of town. Everything had been going tremendously well, except actually it hadn’t. Kiri was wet in more ways than one and Sakura had unwittingly impressed more than just a few curious eyes with her tolerance of the local booze. Shit talking was seen as a greeting amongst Kiri locals, and fighting might as well have been synonymous with hugging.  

“They’ll kick you out soon enough and you’ll be back home before you know it.”

For not the first time, Sakura lamented Kakashi’s backhanded advice. When she berated him about it later on he only congratulated her on the revitalized economy, the updated hospitals, and all her efforts towards dismantling the caste system. Sakura’s protest that she never meant to do any of that fell on deaf ears.

The trial month was nearly over and plans had already been made to install her as their Mizukage, a position that would put her on par with her one time teacher, the Hokage in the Land of Fire. There was a lot of pomp and ceremony the elders were caught up in that pushed back the actual initiation-but the decision had been made and Sakura’s will was not enough to reject the concessions of the Trident-or the three seats of the Mizukage’s cabinet.

Mei made up the executive branch of the Trident, while the seven swordsmen made up the military branch. Yagura was the head of Economics and the mouthpiece of the Elders who weighed tradition against advancement. Sakura’s job would be to balance all three of their voices and carry the responsibility of any decision they came up with. Only a 3 to 1 vote could overrule a Mizuekage’s executive orders.

“Have you chosen your Second Shadow, yet?” Mei asked.

“I’m actually hoping that if I don’t that this whole party thing can get called off,” Sakura sassed back to Mei, already half finished with the next scroll and all but made up on her finial verdict for the request it presented.

“Have you looked at my boy?”

“Chōjūrō is a sweet kid and will make a fine swordsman one day,” Sakura answered diplomatically.

“But…?”

Sakura looked up and glared. “He’s as shy as an Angel Fish and he still somehow came up with the idea, completely on his own with no help from anyone, to wait for me in my hotel room in a silk robe and slippers and nothing else.” Sakura’s tone was heavy with sarcasm. “I don’t take kindly to attempts of coercion.”

“The kid just wanted your favor and you would hold that against him?” Mei playfully teased.

“I didn’t appreciate it, Mei. Don’t bully your boy into my bed.”

Mei rolled her eyes and picked through the finished missives Sakura had set to the side. “He needed the encouragement. He wouldn’t have done it, even though he wanted to, without some help.”  

“I’m not like you, I don’t enjoy robbing the cradle.”

Mei snorted. “Okay then, babe, tell auntie what your type is?”

Sakura paused and looked up over her next scroll. “Why?”

“Can’t you just believe I’m curious? Why do you have to sound so suspicious of every one of my questions? I’m honestly just curious.”

Sakura’s expression turned blank but Mei didn’t seem to care. “Sure, and my answer would have nothing to do with an attempt by you and the elders to set me up with a nice local boy who will convince me to stay. Suuuuure.”

“So if you’re not interested in our little prince, what abut the naughty type. Suigetsu doesn’t have anyone right now.”

“I thought you were trying to convince me to stay, not scare me off. That starfish can’t keep a relationship on lock for more than a month for a reason, and it isn’t the fault of any of his partners.”  

“So the naughty type is a turn off. What about the daddy type?”

Sakura’s face made an expression of horror. “Gross.”

“Not literally a daddy, don’t look at me like that. You might be surprised so don’t knock it till you try it. I’ll put that down as a ‘maybe’ for now.”

“Please don’t.”

There was a knock on the door and Sakura shouted out for them to enter before Mei could even turn around. A half second later Sakura realized her mistake when she saw Mei’s gloating face. The office already felt like it was Sakura’s.

Damn.

“What?” Sakura barked a bit rudely when Yagura stopped in front of her desk.

 “There’s an issue with deployment.”

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t Kisame and Zabuza usually the ones who tell me what’s shit with their nin?” Sakura dropped her scroll and leaned back in her seat before waving for him to continue. “What is it?”

If Yagura was bothered by her rude address he didn’t let it show on his face and he never let it carry over into their conversations outside of work. “More of the Kaguya raiders are making issues for the settlements but we don’t have the resources to send out anyone to deal with it. Kisame and Zabuza are both off on missions you approved.”

“This really requires an S ranked response?” Sakura asked, knowing there were few others who could do what Kisame and Zabuza did. If Yagura was asking for either of them he deemed the threat S ranked.

“I’ve already written up the details of the response we’d need.” Yagura produced a thinner scroll and Sakura took it as it passed over her desk.

“If we didn’t have one of the swordsmen on this we’d need at least two dozen nin and we just don’t have those kind of numbers right now.”

“What’s the best we can do?” Sakura asked while rolling back in her chair to check the chart on the wall with a dozen different secret symbols that helped keep her up to date on the military numbers. It showed how many nin of different rank were deployed, how many were wounded, how many were undercover, and how many were available for deployment. It still took Sakura a minute to decipher everything on the chart but she would have it like a reflex by the end of the month.

“Eight.”

Sakura made a face. Eight was a really low number and it was her fault they were in this situation in the first place. She had gambled and played the number game with her nin. Kiri always needed a coalition of soldiers to defend it in case of invasion, and so even if there were over two dozen shinobi at home, she couldn’t touch those.

“Kisame is due back this afternoon, how time sensitive is this issue?”

“It depends on how much the lives of these colonists matter. They’re notorious for skirting on tax payments and regularly sell their produce to rival groups before our citizens.”

“But they are our citizens,” Sakura clarified. They lived outside the walls of Kiri and were largely bitter old marsh farmers and fishermen, but they were culturally more Kiri than Sakura.

“It would be a shame to loose their assets,” Yagura honestly answered. “The Kaguya clan would only grow emboldened if they took over the rest of this territory for themselves.”

Sakura was already standing, pulling off her robes. “Mei, tell Kisame to head over to the settlements as soon as he gets here, even if he’s on fumes. Just the sight of his big blue mug will send some of them running.”

“What are you doing?” Mei asked, eyes wide.

“I’m dealing with this. I still have my rank from Konoha. I should be sufficient with these four,” Sakura said while showing off the mission scroll with her name and four others filled in. “I’ll let them know personally. Yagura will-”

“I understand. I’ll stand in until you’re back.”

“You can’t leave, you’re our Mizukage,” Mei agrued. “That’s against customs. If you fall-”

“I’m not Mizukage yet and you still can’t tell me what to do,” Sakura warned before stalking out of the office with hands itching for a fight.

Hours later her Kabutowari was soaked with blood on both ends, both the hammer and the axe head had been fed enough blood and savagery to sate its appetite for carnage. Sakura was proud of their success and how cheep it cost. Not a single soul on her unit had been seriously wounded or lost and that was quite an accomplishment considering the Kaguya attacked in bands of eight to twelve.

“It’s cause we got to fight with our Mizuekage that our moral was so high,” old man Jinin cheered, looking ready for a stiff drink and maybe an audience who could listen to his tall tales and elaborations on the day’s battle.

Haku came up beside Sakura and touched her elbow to get her attention and she leaned in while he whispered the status of the nin’s health along with the injury inventory. It was a new step Sakura wanted utilized when units emerged from battle. If hospital records could be updated with a complete list of all injuries-including those treated and healed on the battlefield- it would help in future diagnostics.

Haku had helped develop the program and sell it to the other medic trained min. He had been invaluable in helping roll out new changes and on the battlefield his skill set had complemented her fighting style well, since he was more of a long range fighter while Sakura liked to deal damage up close.

“We’re good to go then,” Sakura sighed. “I’m tired. Someone treat me to hot saké once we’re back,” she playfully whined only to get a roar from the men and women on her team. 

Haku kept close to her side and walked with her until they got to the natural mist. Sakura gave the signal and the rest of her team blurred into the fog and took off like birds in a dive, unseen and deadly.

“You wanted to ask me something?” Haku queried.

Sakura was about to say yes but something else caught her eye and she pat Haku’s back in dismissal. “It can wait until after we’re back. I need to catch Kisame up but I’ll see you at the Drunken Whaler.”

Haku turned and saw Kisame emerging from he fog with the blood and grime from his last fight still stuck to his uniform. The two locked eyes and Haku nodded first before taking off.

“So, are you slipping for any particular reason or are you just getting old?” Sakura teased while approaching Kisame.

“Hey, no jokes about my age when my boss orders me to pull a double shift. Slave driver actually expected me to do some good here. Shows you what she knows.”

“Maybe she just wanted you to see what she could do, ever consider that?” Sakura teased back, shouldering her Kabutowar’s axe end on her shoulder while she carried the hammer half with an idle swing in her left hand. The weight never bothered her but she wondered how her weapon would react to a new pair of hands.

“How willing are you listen to your bad ass boss?” Sakura asked.

“You mean my hard ass boss?” Kisame teased back. “Dunno, it depends on the request. Does it involve drinking?”

“Eventually all decisions and requests involve drinking, but not yet. We can get sloshed at the Drunken Whaler with the rest of them but before we get that far…” Sakura rolled the axe head off her shoulder and held it out. “Wanna trade?”

Kisame whistled low and reached up to rub at some of the blood on his chin with the heel of his hand. The twilight was creeping in but the clouds were heavy and low so everything shaded in tones of gray and diluted yellow. Sakura saw a fragment of that sunken gold color in Kisame’s shark eyes when he looked at her weapon, but she wished he’d been looking at her.

He reached over his shoulder and rolled Samehada off his back, letting the bandages drop. The trade off was as natural as any other tradeoff would be between the swordsmen. If the seats hadn’t been filled Sakura might have replaced Haku as a swordsman, since she had a legendary blade and he didn’t. If she had been a swordsman she might have had the chance to do this earlier and with more than just Zabuza’s Kubikiribōchō, but she wasn’t a swordsman and this wasn’t a guaranteed thing.

“Thank you,” Sakura said before Kabutowari finished leaving her hand.

“Careful with him, Samehada can-oh, ya know, never mind. He’s a bitch that’s roll over for anyone with tasty chakra, I shouldn’t have worried for ya,” he chuckled while watching the handoff.

With issue, Sakura held the massive blade level and admired its scale pattern in the gray twilight. There was a delightful shiver as it sucked on her chakra and swallowed it down like a drunk with fine wine. Sakura could feel it purr not unlike how Kabutowari would in her mind once they were linked.

“Let’s see how you like this,” Sakura cooed before swinging Kisame’s blade against the wind and  stepping into the dance she had first learned for Kabutowari with minor adjustments since she was wilding Samehada in one hand. She felt it tense and almost cut at her hand but settled down as it realized what she was playing at.

Samehada cut into the fog and then shaved it down into a finer mist before wrapping it up around Sakura the way the first swordsmen would, back in the old days when chakra was still too wild to name and gods dared to walk amongst the children of men.

Through the mist and over her shoulder Sakura could see Kisame have fun on his own, dancing through the same steps with her two handed Kabutowari, showing mastery of the finer points in spite of his bulk. At first glance Kabutowari seemed too heavy and burly a weapon to expect any delicacy with, but if one wanted to unlock it’s full potential they would have to know more than just the brutal steps that wrought the most damage, they would need to know how to dance and make both the axe and hammer sing.

She watched Kisame twist through her steps like a ghost of her old master’s memory and watched, transfixed, as he let go of the axe side to swing around and snap back with perfect timing.

“Jealous?” the voice in her mind purred. Samehada helped himself to a drop more of her chakra as she paused in her steps.

“No, I know Kabutowari is my blade and he’ll return to me in time. There’s no reason to be jealous of your master for handling my blade so well.”

“Didn’t mean Kabutowari,” Samehada chuckled so deeply it made Sakura’s mind feel like a cavern with no end. A half second later she realized what Kisame’s blame meant and she giggled, almost manic at the implication.

“No,” she hissed through his stifled giggle. “No way, not you too. Leave me alone and let me have my fun.”

“Don’t see a reason you can’t have it both ways,” Samehada teased, poking at her palm but doing no real damage.

It wouldn’t hurt her if she could hear its voice and give him her chakra to sip on, but even if tried she’d be able to heal such a modest attack. There wasn’t any real danger to her from Samehada, but she felt unbalanced by his words enough to step out of the old steps and swing the monster blade down against the earth with a surge of chakra that split the earth.

She heard his excited cheer and delighted cackle as he served as the conduit to her legendary chakra release. Sounding almost drunk it asked for her to do that again but Kisame was already laughing at her and that was the only sound she could pay attention to.

“I think I’ve had enough fun for one night,” Sakura said with a tired laugh, hopping over to Kisame’s side with his sword. The exchange was easier this time but before Kisame could press Kabutowari into her hand their fingers touched enough for Sakura to feel where all his blisters had hardened into callouses. Even down the sides of his fingers she could feel the evidence of his devotion to the blade and she wondered, wickedly, what it would feel like to be handled by hands like that.

“Naughty,” Samehada purred to her before their link was severed. Sakura felt her face roar with heat and embarrassment, which she tried to play off by jumping back with Kabutowari and a nervous chuckle. Her weapon purred in confusion and almost understood but Sakura sealed him away into one of her pocket dimension before he could scream out the truth like an echo in her mind.

Damn, dirty thoughts-this was all Mei’s fault for planting the seeds in the first place.

Sakura ran her hands through the fog and then combed them through hair, grateful for the cool the almost night allowed. She knew she didn’t have a ‘pretty’ blush like some other girls. She went beat red and it was almost impossible to hide.

“We should head back, we’ve held back long enough the others might get worried. Plus, I wasn’t exactly quiet just now,” Sakura said.

“Aww boss, don’t make this old man run all the way back after I ran all the way out here only to be late,” Kisame playfully whined.

“What, you want to walk back. That’ll take forever,” Sakura said.

“Not for the whole while, but we can run off later. Can’t we just take it easy for a little while?” he asked.

Only because he asked Sakura agreed.

After a minute Kisame spoke up. “So the word going around is that you haven’t picked a second yet. Don’t you have any ideas or is no one willing to take on the load? You’re kinda a slavedriver.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“What are you thinking about.”

Sakura made a face, not knowing if he was teasing or being serious with his question. “It’s so different compared to Leaf, I mean this second almost feels like a marriage partner according to Mei, and it’s kinda serious enough that the thought process is similar. You pick someone and then they’re with you the whole time, nearly day and night, and that’s similar to how Shizune was for Tsunade, but…I don’t know, the cultures are different.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Kisame chuckled. “When Kiri loses a kage it’s tits up and everything goes to shit real quick-we know because we’ve seen it more than any of the other hidden villages. More assignations mean more hard lessons learned.”

“But does it have to be one person? Tsunade had ANBU who were rotated out all the time.”

“Yeah but that’s such a shit idea here. If I wanted to kill the Hokage I’d just impersonate an ANBU and wait in rotation until I was alone with-ah, don’t give me that face, I’m just saying hypothetical things.”

“It’s not so easy to infiltrate ANBU.”

“You say that like we haven’t ever done that,” Kisame snorted and then when he saw Sakura’s face he laughed. “Nothing so bad, boss, nothing so bad! You’ll see for yourself when you get access after inauguration, but those ain’t your people no more. You are ours.”

There were a few too many things making Sakura’s gut church with complicated feelings. What Kisame said about belonging to Kiri was right and it hurt, not because she hated being accepted, but because of what it meant for her ties to everyone back home-back in Konoha. Tsunade and Kakashi were her teachers but they couldn’t call her their disciple anymore. For the sake of the future of their foreign policy, Sakura had watched as the steps were taken to cut her off from the village hidden in the leaves until there was only one place she could run to. It wasn’t a vicious thing and there was nothing personal about it. Sakura actually understood why they did what they did-changing out the codes and locking her out of accessing ANBU updates.

Kiri was supposed to be her home now…her village.

“Boss?”

“You know you can call me by my name when it’s just us,” Sakura said instead, trying to sound annoyed so he didn’t misunderstand the meaning of her words and think she wanted him to speak to her familiarly. “Boss makes me feel like an old lady.”

The other feelings that made her gut churn came from the last thing he said to her. “You are ours.” Someone once said the people in Kiri were a people who knew loss to well to share decently in the future, thus they were a possessive people who coveted many things.

“Then Haruno kun-”

“Haruno kun?” Sakura sputtered. “What are you my uncle? No-ugh, you’re-oh man I had a teacher who would call me Haruno kun in school back when we were in the academy. You’re banned from the ‘-kun,’ if you’re gonna tack something on at least make it sound cute.”

“Sakura chan?” Kisame playfully called out, pitching his voice high and squeaking out the title.

“Never mind, I take it back, just Haruno or just Sakura, but nothing else. Gosh, I thought someone said that in Kiri they didn’t have manners or shit. Just call me whatever, I don’t care,” Sakura said even though she cared.

“Then Haruno, who do you think would be a good candidate for second. You’ll pick from the swordsmen right? Where else would you go?”

“Mei wanted me to go with her boy Chōjūrō but can you see that working out?”

“That jellyfish?” Kisame hooted. “He’s as shy as an Angel Fish. You’d eat him alive for breakfast.”

“I live to entertain,” Sakura mocked with a silly bow. “But you’ve got a point about pulling from the swordsmen. What would that do to your seats? Would you replace whoever left or take in someone new?”

“Maybe Chōjūrō,” Kisame joked.

“He’s an excellent fighter, he just doesn’t have a future in politics,” Sakura defended. “I could see him growing into that role.”

Kisame watched Sakura a half minute longer before saying anything new. The sun was half sunk into the horizon and all the mist seemed to choke on dying colors as they waded through the distortion.

“You have someone in mind, don’t you?”

“I have ideas but I don’t want to have ideas since I don’t like this whole set up. If it was up to me and the elders didn’t insist on tradition, I’d just have the Seven of you on rotation as my guard.”

Kisame made a thoughtful sound. “That could work as a back up, but you know how those old tradition fogies are.”

Sakura rubbed at her neck and looked ahead. “I need a drink. Race you back?”

“Ah, but I’m all tired from-” Kisame never finished his sentence since he chose that moment to flash step forward and take off running. Sakura cursed and raced behind him but came last and ended up having to buy a round for everyone at the pub.

When Kisame woke a week later he was wide eyed and energized, which was a rare thing for him these days. He normally hated mornings but the sight of his fresh dress uniform hanging up was enough to make him remember why today was such a big deal. It wasn’t just any other day, it was Sakura’s inauguration.

The whole of Kiri was hyped as fuck for a new Mizukage like Sakura, one who revitalized their economy and recovered their crumbling hospital system. The fact that she was the wielder of Kabutowari made it feel like a long lost child coming home from the war with spoils to share with the whole country. Sakura felt like she had always been theirs, like Kiri had always been her home. Even when she had been trying to piss people off and get out of the inheritance she had fit in too well. Her brash personality and strong convictions made her-

“Perfect,” Kisame said out loud, a little too caught up in his thoughts.

He grimaced a the sound of his thoughts and moved to wash up before dressing for the day. He needed to finish waking up or else he was bound to say something else equally stupid. Today was too important to look like a fool.

In short order he was as handsome as he’d ever get with an ugly mug like his and dressed for the occasion. Samehada fit into the latch carrier on his back and outside he saw the others waiting in the courtyard to the mansion where Sakura would start her procession.

Already, people were filling the streets in hopes of catching an eyeful of their new Mizukage on her first day on the job. Some were selling flowered crowns and wreaths as the newest trend had been to emulate Sakura’s flowery good looks. Young girls were cutting their hair like her and boys were dreaming about an impossible future among the swordsmen because of her. There was a building that had been painted with a modest mural of Sakura trees and different blooming flowers in celebration. The love his people had for her was everywhere.

“You’re not late,” Suigetsu taunted.

Kisame punched the younger boy in the face, ignoring both Suigetsu and his brother in favor of seeking out Zabuza. “Hey, you hear anything yet?”

“No one here knows who’s getting the nomination, that hasn’t changed,” Zabuza answered.

“Did you sign the consent form?” Haku asked, lookin up at Zabuza first and then Kisame. The consent form was basically a way those with the qualifications could put their name in the hat that Sakura could pull from.

“On day one, brat. Why, you didn’t?”

“I…I mean I eventually put my name in for consideration. I think I’d do well at it,” Haku answered, steeling his words towards the end even if he kept glancing back at Zabuza.

Between the seven of them, the only one Kisame seriously considered a challenge was Zabuza when it came to winning Sakura’s second. The pair of them were the strongest, arguably, and had a good working relationship with others. But, between the both of them, Kisame knew he was the only one who had been on Sakura’s side since day one when she first arrived. Even if Zabuza had been won over and was loyal now, no one had been in Sakura’s corner like Kisame.

Kisame thought his chances were good.

“Get in your dame spots,” Ameyuri snapped with a dangerous edge. Since Sakura had cured Ameyuri’s disease the kunoichi was near fanatical in her devotion to Sakura. When Kisame pretended to drag his feet Ameyuri snapped her sharpened teeth at his face and he backed up with a chuckle.

The doors to the mansion opened and the elders filtered out before Yagura and Mei. Yagura and Mei paused at the top of the stairs before joining the elders in the courtyard where their respective bodyguards were stationed. That’s when Sakura emerged at the top of the stairs to the mansion and the moment Kisame thought his heart was going to stop. 

The robes had never looked so good on anyone before. Underneath the white and blue folds a soft dress of flaring gray and white, detailed with pearls and accented with a thick mother of pearl gorget around her neck, like the kind samurai would wear of a heartier material. It was ceremonial but Sakura wore it like armor.

The bells on her hat tinkled as she descended the steps and took her spot at the head of the group. Her painted lips were pressed into a hard line and her jaw was set with determination, but she still looked soft where it counted.

Kisame caught her eye at one point and it made his smile grow when the corners of her eyes crinkled for him.

“Haruno Sakura…” one of the elders began.

The ceremony lasted no longer than twenty minutes before Sakura was told to turn around and address the others. “And in line with the traditions of our ancestors, I will honor them with this choice and accept a second. Should I ever fall may their strength be measured by the gods and men,” she recited perfectly. Then she locked her lips and held up a hand before adding, “and in addition to a second I will be installing a rotating support guard for the Mizukage, with the blessing of the elders who safeguard our traditions. Every member of the Seven Swordsmen will rotate into the role of a tertiary figure of my inner circle, behind my second.”

Beside him Ameyuri gasped in delight, suddenly filled with hope that even if she wasn’t chosen she would still be able to serve her idol.

“Mizukage, your pick for second shadow?” one of the elders prompted.

Sakura nodded and the bells on her hat tinkled. “For my second shadow I have chosen Yuki Haku to serve me. Yuki Haku do you accept?”  

That…didn’t… make sense. Kisame snuggled to hear what Sakura said next as Haku approached her and knelt before accepting the mother of pearl pin with the symbol of Second Shadow. Haku said something back to her, maybe in thanks, but all Kisame could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as his gut churned in a grief he couldn’t understand.

#Kisame #KisaSaku #Sakura #Fanfiction #my writing #ask #darth-salem-emperor-of-earth #kisame hoshigaki #Haruno Sakura

[bluescluelessly]

Tossing the Script out the Airlock (and Good Riddance to it)

[Rating: Teen] || hurt/comfort, suspected infidelity, polyamorous relationships, made up Stewjoni biology because George Lucas didn’t say Obi-Wan wasn’t a little weird and if he’s gonna give his birth planet a stupid name then I’m gonna give him stupid biology tweaks, and use of Dai Bendu, the language of the Jedi (translations at the bottom of the post)

tw: mentions of grooming (because Palpatine)

Ships: Bail Organa/Obi-Wan, Bail/Breya, Anakin/Padmé

Palpatine tries to convince Anakin that Padmé is cheating on him with Obi-Wan. Anakin confronts his friend about it, finds out a bit more than he bargained for, and not at all what he was expecting to. 

°|●.*•

From the Revenge of the Sith Novelization:

“That’s why I put you on the Council. If the rumors are true, you may be democracy's last hope.”

Anakin let his chin sink once more to his chest and his eyelids scraped shut. It seemed like he was always somebody’s last hope.

Why did everyone always have to make their problems into his problems? Why can’t people just let him be?

How is he supposed to deal with all this one Padmé could die?

He said slowly, eyes still closed, “you still haven’t told me what this has to do with Obi-Wan.”

“Ah, that – well, that is the difficult part. The disturbing part. It seems that Master Kenobi has been in contact with a certain Senator who is known to be among the leaders of this cabal. Apparently, very close contact. The rumor is that he was seen leaving the Senator’s residence this very morning, at an… unseemly hour.”

“Who?” Anakin opened his eyes and sat forward. “Who is this Senator? Let’s go question him.”

“I’m sorry, Anakin. But the Senator in question is, in fact, a *her*. A woman you know quite well, in fact.”

“You–” He wasn’t hearing this. He couldn’t be. “You mean–”

Anakin choked on her name.

Palpatine gave him a look of melancholy sympathy. “I’m afraid so.”

Anakin coughed his voice back to life. “That’s *impossible!* I would *know*– she doesn’t… she couldn’t–”

“Sometimes the closest,” Palpatine said sadly, “are those who cannot see.”

Revenge of the Sith, Matthew Stover, p. 250

°|●.*•

This is it. Anakin is going to just… ask him. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he finds out Obi-Wan has been sleeping with his wife, but…

Well, he’ll figure that out if it’s true.

He went to Padmé’s apartment, felt for himself the evidence that Obi-Wan had been there.

Now, he needs the truth. He needs to be wrong.

“So… I heard you spent a late night with a senator,” he asks, trying not to sound overly accusing. Obi-Wan always gives him the benefit of the doubt.

Several emotions flicker across Obi-Wan’s face then. He eventually fixes his gaze on Anakin, a modicum of panic in his eyes. Anakin’s heart sinks.

The next words out of his old Master’s mouth, however, catch him by surprise.

“You… know about Bail?”

Anakin’s eyes go wide. No, he didn’t–

– but he can’t help thinking he knew it, it was a male senator –

– “Bail?” He blurts out, confusion showing. “No, Palpatine said–”

“– Palpatine saw me with Bail?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice rising an octave.

“No–” Anakin insists, hands going up in a placating gesture. “Not– I didn’t know about Bail. I uh. Palpatine told me he heard you were seen leaving Padmé Amidala’s Apartment.” He explains, and some of the worry drains from Obi-Wan.

“Oh,” he says, sounding infinitely relieved. “No, I, er. Well, I definitely haven’t been making ‘late visits’ to Senator Amidala.” He gives Anakin a curious sort of look. “I hear she’s spoken for, not that I would pursue her, in any case. It would be… awkward.”

“Awkward?” Anakin asks, feeling as if he’s missing something.

Obi-Wan gives a tired sort of smile. “Besides the fact that my preference is not for the fairer sex; she once made an advance, and I turned her down.” Seeing Anakin’s flaring temper, he is quick to clarify, “long before your knighting, Anakin. But, as I said, awkward.”

Anakin nods, appeased. Then, he remembers there’s a more important topic to focus on here. “So… Bail?”

The reaction is immediate; Obi-Wan’s face blushing a dark red as he looks away. “Yes, I– if you could keep that to yourself, I’d appreciate it.”

To hell with it, Anakin thinks. “Sure Master, I’ll keep your senator a secret if you keep mine.”

“The fact that you think your relationship with Senator Amidala is a secret is adorable,” Obi-Wan responds, a glint of amusement in his eye. “Half the council is still asking me why they weren’t invited to the wedding; I can’t give them an answer, as I wasn’t invited either.”

Anakin looks shocked by that information, which is truly endearing. “Wait, they aren’t mad?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “You proved to me that you could put responsibility over your wife on Geonosis. Relationships aren’t forbidden so long as there’s not an unhealthy attachment involved. Anyways, we’ve always bent the rules a bit for you.”

Anakin feels as if a weight has been removed from his shoulders. A weight that Palpatine put there, he thinks.

The old man has been wrong about the Jedi on two accounts now… why does Anakin hold what he says about the Jedi in such regard?

Perhaps he should fact-check more of the Chancellor’s absurd claims.

“Ah.” Anakin responds intelligently. “… so why does your, um, thing with Bail need to stay a secret?”

Obi-Wan’s red cheeks return once more. “Well. A… few reasons. Not that I think I’d be in trouble for it, but… I’d like to respect Bail’s privacy. He is, after all, Married.”

“Does Breha not know?”

“She knows,” Obi-Wan assures his former Padawan. “I wouldn’t agree otherwise. But that doesn’t mean they want the whole senate knowing about their … arrangement with me; or others.”

Again, Anakin nods to show his understanding. “The less people who know, the better. Right…”

“Exactly.”

“Still,” Anakin starts, bemused, “I didn’t take you for the 'mistress’ type.”

A complicated flurry of emotions cross his friend’s face. “… neither do I,” he responds, a little clipped. “I think of myself more as Bail’s type.”

Anakin realizes how insensitive that came off a bit too late. “I’m sorry–”

Obi-Wan waves him off. “It’s difficult to understand when I haven’t explained. Bail is Bi; he generally prefers men, but his heart belongs fully to Breha. I prefer men as well, and I have… a condition… so we came to a mutually beneficial arrangement, in which Bail and I enjoy one another while on Coruscant, as he and Breha cannot be together as often as they’d like to be.”

Anakin gets all that, he does. But one thing sticks out to him that he feels needs to be clarified. “You have a condition?” Is Obi-Wan sick?

If its possible, Obi-Wan grows more embarrassed. “Well, I’m from Stewjon.”

That clears nothing up.

At Anakin’s clueless expression, Obi-Wan sighs and explains. “Right, quick biology lesson. Somewhere down the evolutionary line, it was decided that Stewjonians need more incentive to reproduce. So, while it isn’t necessary in order to live out a full, average life span, our bodies naturally produce more beneficial hormones during sexual intercouse. This means, the more I…” he pauses, looking displeased by the verbal corner he’s painted himself into. “… get laid, the slower I age, the faster I heal, and the less sleep I need. All beneficial to fighting a war, yes?”

That’s all news to Anakin. Fascinating. “So do you have… other arrangements too?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “As of now, just Bail. I could, of course, visit the lower levels to the same effect, but I find it safer and more preferable to have intercourse with someone I like and trust.” Less likely to catch something that way, too.

Anakin nods, strange mixtures of relief and utter confusion swirling in his mind. At least he knows Obi-Wan has no interest in Padmé… but that doesn’t explain the way he felt his presence in the force, in her apartment.

“Okay. Uh.” He hesitates, knowing there’s no real, good way to word this. “Just… to be 100% clear, you’re not having secret meetings with Padmé in an attempt to overthrow Palpatine and the Senate?”

The look Obi-Wan gives Anakin would make someone think he had just grown a second head.

“… no, wherever did you hear such nonsense?”

Anakin rubs the back of his neck, feeling the last bit of worry ebb away. “Just rumors.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Truly, the Senate gossip gets wildly out of hand. I’ll admit, I do on occasion have tea with Padmé, but there’s nothing treasonous about friends visiting one another and trading stories and doing each other’s makeup from time to time.” He pauses. “And while neither of us have very high opinions on Chancellor Palpatine’s term, there’s no plot against him, as far as I am aware. We are both just eager for this war to end, and for him to release his emergency powers so the Republic can return to democracy.”

“You think his rule is undemocratic?” Anakin asks, looking appalled by the idea.

“He’s been in power long past his elected term,” Obi-Wan points out. “A new Chancellor should have been elected already. Over this time, he has used the war to gain far more emergency powers than any one person should hold.”

Sensing Anakin’s impending argument, he continues. “… Of course, this makes it far simpler to fight a war; I simply worry that when the war has ended… he won’t give up his power so easily. He has resisted peace talks, and every other attempt to bring this war to an end sooner. So I… have concerns.” He gives Anakin a tired sort of smile. “But last I checked, he hasn’t yet made it treasonous for Padmé and I to exercise our right to free speech.”

“Of course not,” Anakin responds, sounding distracted. He’s always thought having one person to make decisions was a good thing… or, does he just think that because Palpatine has told him it’s a better idea so many times?

He has many things to question. But, more importantly right now, Obi-Wan mentioned make-up?

Anakin shakes himself from his thoughts, giving his friend a curious look. “Uh. Rewind a second. Did you say Padmé did your make-up?”

“And I did hers,” Obi-Wan answers easily. “We both had dates.”

That would explain why they were, in some cases, sitting closer than friends would; as far as he could tell in the force.

“Bail takes you on dates?” Anakin asks, curious but trying his best not to be pushy about it. This is something new, which he never anticipated learning about his Master… he wants to know more, but as a Jedi with his own secret significant Senator, he understands the secrecy.

“Not all of them are Bail,” Obi-Wan answers after a moment, as if weighing how much he should admit to. “But yes, he does. He’s quite a gentleman really; I do look for other potential partners, but I fear he’s spoiled me for most.”

Anakin can imagine; having a Senator as a partner is pretty nice. “The tea is that good?”

“And the company,” Obi-Wan agree, a crinkle at the corner of his eyes. “I’ll admit… I’m glad you know now. I don’t like keeping secrets from you.”

That warms Anakin’s heart, so much that he doesn’t quite know how to express it, so he deflects. “If you have pictures of yourself in that makeup, you better not keep them secret anymore,” he teases with a grin.

the teasing pulls a laugh from Obi-Wan, who shakes his head. “I don’t; but I’m certain Padmé has plenty. I think she even took a few of us the one time Bail stopped by her apartment to pick me up.”

Oh, he is definitely getting those from his wife later. “So Padmé knows about you two?”

“She introduced us,” Obi-Wan admits fondly. “I don’t share details with her, but she’s a smart woman.”

That she is. “Why am I the last to find out?” He protests, trying his best not to let it come out sounding whiny. 

“Because, my dear padawan,” Obi-Wan starts, gently ribbing him. “You are a dear friend, and an unparalleled partner in combat, but you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”

“I can keep a secret!” he argues! “I swear, Master, no one else will ever know. I only talk to you and Padmé, anyways.” He pauses, “Well, and Palpatine.”

“And he mustn’t know,” Obi-Wan insists, more serious now. “Bail is one of the leading senators advocating for clone rights and peace talks, Anakin. He is a good man. And, he disagrees with Palpatine quite often. I shudder to think what the Chancellor would do with this information, should he find out. I wouldn’t put it past him to use it in an attempt to not only discredit Bail, but to berate the Jedi as well.”

“But neither of you are doing anything wrong,” Anakin states, frowning.

Obi-Wan’s eyes close for a moment. “And it’s not wrong for a system to want to remain neutral and out of the war, yes? And yet, Palpatine did everything in his power to try to strongarm Republic forces onto Mandalore, even rushing a vote 3 days ahead of time, without Satine present, based on a doctored holorecording.”

Anakin doesn’t look at it that way… but he’s not going to argue with Obi-Wan where Satine is involved. Though he now questions how romantic their relationship really was, he knows they were, at the very least, close.

“Just please, don’t tell him, Anakin.” Obi-Wan persists, looking up at his friend beseechingly. “If for no other reason than Bail values his privacy.”

“Of course,” Anakin agrees easily. “Like I said, I won’t tell anyone. I just… nobody really talks to me about Palpatine like you are now. I guess most people know he’s my friend and are too afraid to say anything less than flattering… You’re giving me things to think about.”

“I try to be honest with you whenever I can,” Obi-Wan responds cautiously. “You aren’t a child anymore, and though old habits are hard to break, I don’t want to keep sheltering you as if you aren’t a capable adult.”

“I sense you have more to say,” Anakin prompts when Obi-Wan doesn’t immediately continue.

His friend nods, looking troubled. “I know he is a close friend of yours, Anakin, and one of the few people you knew and liked here, after leaving your home. Which is why I–mistakenly, I think–didn’t object to his interest in you. Initially, I had hoped another friend would make your transition from Tatooine to Coruscant easier… but… well. I find the way he treats you… inappropriate. In some cases, predatory.”

And with those words, Anakin suddenly feels on the defensive. No, Palpatine is his friend, like a grandfather to him. He isn’t… predatory, or–

Obi-Wan’s hands are up even before Anakin can think of a rebuttal. “I don’t claim to know all the details… but the fact that when you were younger, you didn’t feel comfortable telling me anything of your activities on your outings with him says quite a lot, Anakin. And more than that, when I started to suspect something was amiss, and attempted to join you on visits with him, or simply ensure you weren’t left alone with him, he used his position as the Chancellor to strongarm me into backing down. It was… is, concerning.”

And, that’s news to Anakin. He understands why Obi-Wan hadn’t told him sooner, too. He was a headstrong kid; any attempt to protect him, especially from someone he saw as a friend, Anakin would have just taken as Obi-Wan ‘controlling’ him. He knows better now; after years of being Obi-Wan’s equal. But then, it may have just pushed him away, and further from where Obi-Wan could attempt to protect him.

Still, he feels the need to explain himself. “It’s not– He didn’t do anything… like that…” He starts, floundering a little. “It’s just, I didn’t want to tell you, because he took me places I shouldn’t really be going, and I had fun, so…” might as well come clean now, it’s not like he can get in trouble for it anymore. “He used to take me on trips to the lower levels, like, clubs. And he taught me how to make a chance cube land on the side I wanted, so we would find corrupt senators, and cheat them out of their credits. And, Palpatine said he gave the money to charities, so we were doing good things, you know?”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and Anakin is reminded of when he tested his patience early on as a padawan, and his Master would silently count to keep himself calm.

He hasn’t needed to in a long time, not since well before Anakin was knighted.

And despite what the action reminds him of, Anakin knows his Master’s temper isn’t directed at him.

“… Anakin,” he starts, tone gentle but tight. “Please, just. For a moment, put Ahsoka in your place. If she was telling you what you are telling me now… what would you think?”

And Anakin’s gut does a flip, because deep down, he already knows.

He… he knows that Palpatine uses him, says one thing and does another, feeds him constant doubt about his friends, about the Jedi…

He knows this, and yet, no one before has had the nerve to say anything even slightly negative about Palpatine to his face. No one has ever dared do anything but say how great his close friend, the Chancellor, is.

Because like Anakin, people are afraid of him.

He feels a tremble start in his fingers, finally faced to acknowledge how afraid he is. How much it terrifies him to know that Palpatine holds all his secrets, that should Anakin ever be less than his enthusiastic friend, he could be ruined.

He, the hero with no fear… is afraid; a frightened boy in the face of a decrepit old man.

And only now can he show it, in the presence of the only person he’s ever known to have the courage to speak up about someone so untouchable.

As if sensing Anakin’s oncoming panic, Obi-Wan interrupts his thoughts, voice kind and sad. “Anakin, dear one, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He moves closer, and any restraint Anakin had breaks.

He feels 9 years old again, lost and seeking comfort in Obi-Wan’s arms. “I can’t say no,” he whispers brokenly. “Master– Jaieh, I’m terrified of him.”

Hearing Anakin call him Jaieh, like he hasn’t since he was young, since it was too hard for him to call anyone ‘Master’ without dredging up bad memories, Obi-Wan accepts Anakin into his arms, no hesitation or holding back.

Anakin needs support right now, needs to know that he isn’t alone in this, that if he asks, Obi-Wan would walk right into Hell with him. “Enoah foh bika, Anakin.” he promises him, reassures him. “Enoah foh mikeelal.”

“Paienoah kodaih bika,” Anakin says, but it comes out unsure, like he’s asking. Like he doesn’t know if he’s accepted, if he’s really not alone in this.

Obi-Wan’s heart aches, and he holds Anakin closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to his temple. “Haj Dai, Anakin. Paienoah kodaih bika.”

Anakin shatters then– or it feels like he does. So many doubts, so many fears, and Obi-Wan bats them all aside with a few words. Words said so easily, words Anakin feared shouldn’t apply to him.

He cries, his earlier suspicions and anger forgotten, absolved now, as he is faced with the truth that Obi-Wan cares for him; that his best friend is his truest ally, that Obi-Wan accepts him and will always accept him.

As he allows himself to acknowledge that Palpatine is a liar and a manipulator, and he is (and always has been) coming up with vile falsities in his attempts to drive a wedge between Anakin and Obi-Wan; the one person he can rely on absolutely.

And through it all, through his tears and his shattered sense of self, Obi-Wan holds onto him; not judgement or disgust, nothing but kindness and acceptance as he carefully picks up the pieces and helps Anakin piece himself back together.

How he could ever doubt Obi-Wan’s character… he would say he doesn’t know, but he remembers. He knows all the little things Palpatine said, all the betrayals he implied, the way he twisted Anakin’s thoughts to see himself pitted against Obi-Wan instead of regarded with him, as he should. They are a team, The Team.

He should have recognized long ago that their accomplishments aren’t a competition, they are an accumulation of the good they can both do, together and apart.

Anakin may be late, but late is better than never, and he recognizes it now, at his lowest and most vulnerable moment. A competitor wouldn’t hold him and build him back up, stronger than before. A friend does that, a friend and mentor and good person.

When he can speak, albeit in a watery way, Anakin wipes his eyes, face still hidden in his Master’s shoulder. “What am I going to do?”

The answer doesn’t come immediately, and that in itself is a reassurance. Anakin doesn’t want unthought-out platitudes, he wants honesty, and preferably, a plan.

“I don’t know what we can do right this moment, Anakin.” Obi-Wan admits. “He is still the Chancellor… and that won’t change until we end this war. But I can promise you this, my dear padawan, you will never have to go see him alone. You need only ask, and I will be by your side. And as soon as circumstances change, I will do all there is in my power to make sure he never comes near you again, Anakin.”

He sniffles, more reassured by the realistic response than he could ever be by promises that can’t be fulfilled.

“Then we’ll just have to try harder to end this war, huh?” Anakin goes for an optimistic tone, hugging Obi-Wan more snugly.

Another comforting kiss goes to his temple. Obi-Wan is frugal with his shows of affection, so it means all the more now that he is giving them so openly. “We will, Anakin.” He promises, and his voice is so steady, so sure, the rock that Anakin can always lean against. “Together, I doubt there’s anything you and I can’t do.”

“Together,” Anakin agrees, a knot in his very soul coming loose. 

Obi-Wan is right. They are The Team, and that isn’t just a title. Together, they can do anything they set their minds to.

They can defeat Sith Lords, they can end a war, and maybe, just maybe, they can even save Anakin Skywalker’s soul from the Devil.

°|●.*•

Dai Bendu Translations

“Jaieh” || ● Simplified Meaning: Master

Literal Meaning

roots: ‘je’- mystic, ‘ai’- mastery, non ownership. so ‘one who is a Master in the ways of the Force’, implying more like a teacher than an owner.

“Enoah foh bika, Anakin. Enoah foh mikeelal” || ● Simplified Meaning: I am here, Anakin. I am with you.

Literal Meaning

Enoah fo - I am (in a permanent state, not transitive) 

bika- here

[Anakin]

Enoah foh- I am (in a permanent state) 

mikeelal - comitative ‘you’/with you.

“Paienoah kodaih bika.” || ● Simplified Meaning: We are here together, now and forever.

Literal Meaning

Paienoah - We are (in a permanent state, and this has implications for the future)

kodaih - Exclusionary ‘We’ - all of us jedi (exclusionary, implying the inclusion of Anakin in the Jedi and alluding to the exclusion of Palpatine as not a Jedi)

bika - here. 

so essentially, “We are jedi, and we are together, and Palpatine is not, and this matters for the future.”

“Haj Dai, Anakin. Paienoah kodaih bika.” || ● Simplified Meaning: Yes, Anakin. We are here together, now and forever.

Literal Meaning

Haj Dai - literally ‘Force Wills’, a reassuring ‘yes’.

[Anakin]

Paienoah - We are (in a permanent state, and this has implications for the future) [italics stress is on ‘are’]

kodaih - Exclusionary ‘We’ - all of us jedi (exclusionary, implying the inclusion of Anakin in the Jedi and alluding to the exclusion of Palpatine as not a Jedi)

bika - here. 

so essentially, “Of course, Anakin. We are jedi, and we are together, and Palpatine is not, and this matters for the future.”

Thanks to @jasontoddiefor @ghostwriterofthemachine for the translations to Dai Bendu, their fancrafted Jedi Language!

#bailobi #anidala #breha x bail #polyam dating #polyamorous #obi wan kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Palpatine #Dai Bendu #Anakin & Obi-Wan #Brobikin #language with translations #palpatine is a massive dickwad #hurt/comfort #fic #ficlet #star wars #canon divergent #references to Anakin & Obi-Wan comics #Jedi as family #suspected infidelity #tw: grooming

[eynsavalow]

𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩

So let me preface this my pointing out that as far as I’ve been able to gather Celtic culture while holding distinctive characteristics was extremely fluid in terms of cultural practice and politics. I have also taken the liberty of filling in certain gaps in our understanding that strictly speaking we have no way of confirming or understanding the cultural context for. I have listed my primary sources at the bottom of this post and will be reblogging whenever I add new resources or adjustment my headcanons based on new research or sources I find. Our knowledge of the Celts is continually evolving as is my own. 

In regards to terms I’m relying largely on Irish and Welsh as they’re the most relavant to the blog and will try to clarify which specific culture I am referring to within the context of my posts. 

Politics- Celtic politics were extremely fluid. In broad strokes Kings were elected by council though these elections were rarely peaceful with rival factions fighting until one proves victorious. Because of this the Celtic warrior class was extremely powerful with many kings being able to hold power based solely on bribing and offering monetary and other rewards to the warriors in their service. This is explicitly stated to be how Conchobar of Ulster remains in power in the Ulster Cycle. However it should be noted this practice did not guarantee loyalty. It seems to be be that the King was expected to provide for his warriors as well as his people because of social obligation while the Warrior class in particularly was free to leave and give their services to others if they received another offer or came to disprove of their current Ruler’s actions. This fluidity of loyalty seems to have been accepted and to a degree expected. 

Geas/ Geasa and Tynged/ Tynghedau- Perhaps tying into Celtic belief in social obligation a geas/tynged (geasa/ tynghedau are the Irish and Welsh plural forms). In broad strokes it seems to a kind of obligation that one can place on others or themselves as is the case with Cú Chulainn. Irish High Kings could have dozens or more there seems to be a correlation between one’s power/status and one’s number of geasa. I have taken it further by headcanoning that honoring and fulfilling one’s geasa adds to and builds up ones own power as it is frequently shown in Irish lore that violating one’s geasa will result in death or other misfortune. 

The Celtic Pantheon- I have posted about my take on Celtic mythology before >HERE< and >HERE< but suffice to say it is as fluid as Celtic culture and politics. But I want to be very adamant that I am not going to favor one group over the other. There has been a long and frankly very ugly history of dismissing Welsh, Irish and Scottish folk beliefs that I want to avoid perpetuating on this blog. NOTE: In terms of interaction I get the impression one was allowed to talk back to one’s gods and even correct their behavior much as warriors were allowed to do with their Kings.

Religious Practices- This is extremely tricky as most of what we’re given is vague and described by non- Celtic sources so most of what I’m about to describe is strictly headcanon based. All pools and bodies of water are believed to be doors to the Otherworld. It is therefor customary for Celts to provide an offering of some kind to bribe or get a deities attention. (Lancelot himself will use this as a means of communicating with his mother.) Birds are also seen as messengers between the human and Otherworld with sacrifices sometimes made to lure birds to a sites and then carry the prayers offered by the druids and supplicants back to the Gods. 

Heads- While an abundance of writing and other evidence exists that the Celts had some kind of Cult surrounding the head/brain we’re not particularly sure why. I’ve interpreted it that the Celts believed one’s soul/power resided in the head and that by taking and preserving the head or brain one was adding to one’s own as well as keeping your enemy from entering the Otherworld and reincarnating. 

Children- I am admittedly sorry for putting this under the rather graphic bullet point above. But the Celts were not like their neighbors Romans or Greeks and did not view their children as disposable. One was required to look after one’s children, the elderly and disabled. I can think of no better example of this than Amergin mac Eccit from the Ulster cycle who was unable to physically care for himself until his teens with his father Eccit going to extraordinary lengths to protect his son who is later described as a wise poet and warrior despite his disabilities. This is also why Lancelot insists on making Galahad his heir even if he struggles to form a bond with him as it is culturally unacceptable to him to not provide for him on some level. Children were also only considered illegitimate if no one claimed to be their father. 

Relationships/ Sexuality/ Gender Roles- This is likely the most difficult to headcanon and has required the biggest leaps on my part. But it seems to be that the Celts were comfortable and open with queer relationships an taking lovers outside of marriage with the upper classes in particular engaging in seemingly polyamorous unions. All sexes could become Druids or Warriors or even rule in their own right. Boudicca and Medb in the Ulster cycle are excellent examples of this. 

Sources

Cunliffe, Barry. The Ancient Celts. Oxford University Press, 1997.

Koch, John T., and John Carey, editors. The Celtic Heroic Age: Literary Sources for Ancient Celtic Europe & Early Ireland & Wales. Celtic Studies Publications, 2003.

Ginnell, Laurence. Brehon Laws: A Legal Handbook (3rd Ed.).

ANWYL, EDWARD. CELTIC RELIGION. BLURB, 1906.

Eickhoff, Randy Lee. The Red Branch Tales. Forge, 2004.

MacCullough, J. A. The Religion of the Ancient Celts. T & T Clark, 1911.

Paxton, Jennifer. “The Celtic World.” The Great Courses. The Celtic World, 2018. 

Andrews, Elizabeth. Ulster Folklore. Norwood Editions, 1975. 

Arnold, Matthew. On the Study of Celtic Literature, and, On Translating Homer. Macmillan, 1902. 

Leahy, Arthur Herbert. Heroic Romances of Ireland. D. Nutt, 1905. 

O'Rahilly, Cecile. Táin bó Cúalnge: From the Book of Leinster. Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, 2004. 

#it is the doom of men that they forget {general lore} #long post cw #and with this i go make dinner

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

 Childe

12:35

ur a horrible influence on tonia

 Childe

12:35

and whos this ZHONGLI

 Childe

12:35

also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os

 Twin 1

12:37

a normal person would say hi

 Twin 1

12:37

also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school

 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?

 Childe

12:38

thats not very convincing

 Childe

12:38

also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares

 Twin 1

12:39

isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12

 Childe

12:42

thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”

 Twin 1

12:42

well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk

 Childe

12:42

whats asmr

 Childe

12:43

asking for my sister btw

 Twin 1

12:44

A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.

 Childe

12:45

wtf?

 Twin 1

12:45

people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????

 Childe

12:45

idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos

 Twin 1

12:47

… makes sense

 Twin 1

12:47

check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type

 Childe

12:48

i thought we were talking about my sister????

 Twin 1

12:50

[message screenshots.jpg]

 Twin 1

12:50

ya she told me everything

 Twin 1

12:50

have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA

 Childe

12:51

hope he does it

He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)

It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)

When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.

The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.

Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.

Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.

“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”

Holy shit.

For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)

His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.

Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”

This time is different though.

Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.

And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.

The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)

Oh God — oh fuck.

“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)

“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)

“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”

“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”

“Huh?”

The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?

“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.

“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.

“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”

“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”

“Yeah.”

Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.

Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.

#Genshin Impact #Childe/Zhongli #Childe & Tonia #Childe & Lumine #asmr fic p1 #fuck ao3 (holds head in hands) #asmr fic

[harringtonheartache]

Daybreak | Part Twenty

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part twenty (wow!) of this fic. The mother-son relationship no one asked for but everyone needed. Nine’s gone and neither Steve nor Nine herself know how to deal with it. 

Word Count: 2,175 -ish

Warning(s): Cussing

A/N: Sorry if this is a little short compared to my other recent chapters, but nevertheless, enjoy! <3 all of you guys, your sweet little comments make me so happy (-: 

Steve sat unmoving on the floor of the Byers’ home, hands against the wooden flooring, knees bent before him in the same position he’d landed when he fell back. His chest heaved a few times as he looked, blankly, at the wall in front of him. 

Joyce, for a hesitant moment, was achingly unsure of her own presence. She looked to the wall, to the floor, to the boy sitting there in her living room. It took her a minute to jumpstart herself, but after that she circled around the recliner and sat behind him silently. She lifted a hand, a little shaky from the chaos, and placed it consolingly on his shoulder. 

He didn’t move, but the tears started; quiet but hot against his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” a hushed murmur from behind him said. 

And so he folded; unable and unwilling to let his sadness swell in silence. He dropped backwards into Joyce’s lap and she welcomed him, hugging his shrinking frame to herself as he let himself cry. 

She rubbed his back, a tender hand up and down the length of his curled composure. She wanted to console him properly, say the things she knew she was supposed to say. The “she’s okay, you’ll see her again” ‘s. The “we’ll find her” ’s and the “she’ll be back” ’s. All of the things she was told about her son. But she couldn’t stomach anymore patronizing, and so she said how she left instead. “I’m sorry.”

-

Nine woke up feeling cold. Joyce’s living room had been a mess, sure, but a perfectly temperate mess; colored lights strung from wall to wall to really sell the cozy atmosphere. The Byers’ house: the first place her mind drifted to in her haze between conscious and unconscious. Then a feeling of pressure — pure remembrance — a hold strong and warm on her own hand. That warmth fizzled out by the time she had fully dedicated herself to consciousness, and the chill took over her hand as it had the rest of her. 

She rolled over, a plop against the damp ground, and her arm ached when she pressed it to the floor. Sharp pain made her breath hitch and then she groaned, eyes clamped shut, body rocking.  

“Fuck.”

She let herself lay there for a minute, and looking around she understood the scale at which she existed in this new place. Around her was only darkness, and while individually concerning this was contextually a relief. The creature that had attacked the house was gone, seemingly never there. 

No one was. 

“Will?” she asked into the emptiness. It was almost a dumb thing to say, but she needed to hear her own voice again to convince herself that she was really there. Alive, alone, awake, there. 

Nine hadn’t really wanted to get up. To stand, firstly and independently a chore in and of itself, would take energy she wasn’t yet willing to sacrifice. To then perhaps take a few steps in any direction (her choice, it would be the same no matter the decision) would only confirm her fears. And her fears were, of course, that she was lost. Misplaced in a gap of darkness and vanished from the world, her existence bordering on extinct. 

“Steve?” A dumber thing to say, she knew this, but she called it out anyway. 

-

The gravel that made up the Byers’ driveway crunched underneath Hopper’s truck. He stepped down, adjusting his hat to sit with more purpose, and walked up Joyce’s porch with a slowness reflective of his ignorance. 

He knocked once, the steady sound of knuckles against wood, but the door opened promptly, leaving his declaration of arrival unfinished. 

“Wha-”

“Come in,” Joyce said to him earnestly. A command, really. 

She swung the door open now, an ushering hand lifting from her side. Hopper stared at her, a little rattled by her severe demeanor. Joyce had appeared in his office a number of occasions this past week, sometimes before he even got there, always with an unhinged vigor. She’d stand before him as he sat sluggish at his desk (the only time she’d be taller than him), and talk at a speed he often had trouble keeping up with so early in the morning. Now there was something more advanced about her composure; she had upgraded, still an intense presence, just perhaps with higher morale. 

“Come in!” She said, wide eyes blinking at him as she swung her arm a second time.

“Jesu- okay,” he said, stepping forwards.   

Steve sat on the couch with his head thrown down in his hands, unwilling to bother picking himself up to greet the sheriff. His eyes were closed; maybe trying to block out what was happening, maybe too apprehensive about opening them as it may encourage more tears. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be burdened with the sense of sight. Himself: slumped over rather pitifully on the couch, the living room: old phone book still on the floor from Joyce’s wrath, the wall: that long line over the wallpaper he had watched form as it sealed back up. He’d rather restrict himself to the darkness gifted by closed eyes.  

“The hell has been happening here?” Hopper asked, doing a full 180 as he took in the catastrophe of a home. 

“A lot,” Joyce said simply. 

“Steve?” Hopper spoke, looking to the boy motionless on the couch, not entirely present. He got no response. 

“Steve?” he said again, and this time Steve sat up. His legs were parted, once supporting his arms that were once supporting his head, and he tossed himself against the back of the couch. He bounced against the cushion then settled in, arms thrown in his lap in a standoffish manner. 

“What the hell happened here?”

“What?” Steve started defiantly. “What, you wanted proof?” His head dipped to the side as he mocked curiosity. “You wanted proof that she had powers, right? Well I got another fuckin’ witness now.” One of his arms lifted as he motioned to Joyce, eyes stagnant on the sheriff. 

“Steve-”

“No, she’s a witness. Go ahead, ask her. Since Nine’s not here to show you.” 

“Can you just tell me what is going on?”

Steve sat forward again and his elbows rested on his knees. 

“She’s fucking gone. But I guess you don’t care,” he said, head tilting to the side, “because now there’s one less person you have to question.” 

Hopper stilled, drawing to memory who he was (surely) talking about. The girl he carried from that building, from those people in white lab coats. The girl Steve clinged to so desperately in the backseat of his car — yes, that one. The girl at the center of all of his problems, but maybe at the center of the solutions, too. Gone. A troubling choice of words. 

“The… did the lab get her again?”

“The-” Steve stopped, pulling his lips into his mouth to bite. “Not the lab, the thing. The faceless goddamn thing from the forest! It took her, and she fell into some- some kind of void,” he said, his shoulders shrugging forward as he shook his head at his own words. “and chances are, I’ll never fucking see her again.”

He didn’t specify what he meant, didn’t want to burden himself with the thought process that would decide how feasible his fears were. “Never (fucking) see her again” — whether that meant she was dead or alive was up to Hopper to conclude. Steve didn’t want to give that question any more room to wander around his mind, and having to clarify that unknown outloud would be giving it too much room. 

Hopper was unmoving. He looked to Joyce but her eyes were strictly on the ground. 

“I- I’m sorry,” he began.

“Sorry?” Steve said, and he sat up again as his face shifted from irate to mournful. “I don’t want you to be sorry,” he spoke, and his once straight eyebrows furrowed. “I wanted you to do something! She told you detail by detail what happened and you just got in your car and drove away! Our job was to protect her, and sure, maybe I failed, but so did you!” 

He stood up now, taller than Joyce, but not with enough height to quite make it to Hopper’s level. Still, he composed himself intensely, broad shoulders and stiff back. He took his best shot at an intimidating face, but it soon shrugged off his expression and the naturally dismal one returned; locked into place and unfleeting. 

“You didn’t do anything.” 

-

Nine sat up on her knees — half the commitment of standing — and the shallow water she had been dropped into rippled around her skin. With her movement came a wavering fog in the distance, something appearing but not quite ready to be seen. Her legs pushed forwards, quickly, so that she was taller, and she peered fervently ahead. From her mouth came a sound: the beginning of a question she didn’t know exactly the purpose of asking. “Wh-”

As if in response to her half-question, the fog became more dense. Glowing with a light without origin, colors became more clear and a shape began to form. Nine waited, eyes trained ahead, until the movement stopped again. 

She finally stood up, all of the force in her body pushing her trembling legs from the ground one at a time. Water dripped from her frame as she rose, each drop making a little circle appear in the wetness below when it hit the floor. Her hands landed at her sides, swinging a little from the sudden movement, and she stood as she had sat: with expectant eyes. Your move. 

The fog resumed and the shape became identifiable. It was a house: small and brown and familiar. Only having seen it once was enough for Nine to recognize the Byers’ residence.

She moved with strength she didn’t realize she had until now, arms swinging, breath rapid as she ran to the house in front of her, almost worried it would disappear if she weren’t quick enough to catch it. The gravel driveway was gone, replaced with the new texture of wet, and her feet splashed water up the length of her legs. She tossed the door open, one hand forcefully turning the knob and the other against the wood to push it open hard enough to knock into the wall behind it. 

“Steve?”

An empty house. Joyce’s lights still hung from the walls but they weren’t on anymore, leaving the living room dark and dejecting. The couch, the reclining chair, the coffee table she had stumbled over before — all present but coated in a layer of gloom. Suddenly she felt like she should be in there. 

Nine took a step backwards but didn’t turn around yet, eyes still darting from wall to wall, unwilling to give up hope where her brain had already. The porch creaked underneath her step and she stilled again, uneasy. 

A humming noise started from a distance. A few notes, maybe a song, and this was much more unsettling than the sound of old wood. Finally Nine spun around and when she did the sound seemed to grow louder. 

She didn’t move, unsure of where she’d even go. She entertained the idea of turning back around and retreating into the house to hide, but dropped it one she started to make out words from the sing-song humming. 

“Should I stay or should I go?”

Sung small and with little strength, a pitch reached by a child. 

“Hello?” she said, finally able to get a question out. 

The humming paused as her word rang in echoes throughout the air. And then, a response: “Hello?” a voice mirrored her question, it’s tone jumping from hopeless to hopeful. 

Nine gasped as if she didn’t expect the return, and her feet stalled as she began another step forwards. 

“Will?” 

Another long drag of silence, this time longer, but ended with a more started toss of words. “Help! Help me! I’m over here!” he said. 

Her head was thrown from left to right as she tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. “I’m- I’m coming!” she shouted to nothing, hoping it would consol the little voice. She turned viciously when she spotted a minuscule light in the corner of her vision, and her feet took off in its direction, jumping the porch and splashing again in the water below. Running as quickly as she had towards the house, she breathed heavily; partly from exhaustion, partly from adrenaline. Her feet skidded when she reached the glowing figure: a small triangle, a feeble tent with an even more feeble sign reading “Castle Byers” in neat yellow paint. 

“W-Will?” she asked it, bending down and pushing aside a blanket that acted as a door with her hand, gentle as she reached inside for a peek.

Sitting up from a curled composure: a modest ball of blankets in the center of the fort. A head poked out from the top, and a smile began to develop on its face. 

“You came,” Will said with a full grin. 

---

Tag List: @ggclarissa​ @gurl-ly​ @alewifex​ @we-are-band-sexuals​ @cpt-lamby​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @easvtohate​ @used-avocado​ @kwyloz​ @itzpikapie​  @samwise-babeyy @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @mochminnie​ @peterwandaparker​ @ayamecrevan​ @lilyhw1​ @seninjakitey​ @lulurose17​ @write-from-the-heart​ @hargreevelr​ @sledgy14​ @stranger-names​ @marvelouspottering​ @crimesolvin​ @pradaxstyles​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @fancytravelerbird​ @queenofthehairharrington​ @blahhhhhhhaaa​

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things 3 #jim hopper #Joyce Byers #will byers #st #st fic #st fanfic

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- part 14

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1494

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N:  Things are getting good! There’s more drama to come so stay tuned. Also thanks for reading everyone. I love seeing all your excited comments! Please let me know if you’ll like to be tagged!

Hela-Avenger Masterlist

“You don’t know who your father is?!” 

You let out a sigh at the sound of Loki’s alarmed voice in the room. You had failed to notice his appearance and you blamed the magical doors that apparently allowed anyone inside without hesitation. 

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” you ask. “Perhaps maybe privacy?” 

“You had me believe you knew who your father was,” Loki states in annoyance.

“It’s not my fault you fell for my lie,” you shrug confused as to why he was so worked up by your revelation. “Though it really wasn’t a lie. You made an assumption and didn’t think of confirming it.” 

Loki rolls his eyes at your technicality not amused at your current tactic to get under his skin. 

“Then what is the purpose of all this? Why are you even here?” 

“Because I do want information on my father such as who he is,” you clarify. “And I want to meet him.”

“I didn’t sign up for this...” 

“Yes, you did! You made a deal!” 

Loki opens his mouth to argue this further but Frigga steps in. 

“You two are being quite loud,” Frigga calmly states. “I understand that this revelation isn’t what we were all hoping for but we must plan accordingly. Y/N is still in need of your protection, Loki, and because you made a deal with her, you will honor it.”

Frigga turns to look at you with a promising expression. 

“We will find who your father is and we will protect you along the way.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Frigga nods in response and turns back to look at Loki.

“Now, why have you come unannounced to my chambers, son?” Frigga asks. “You interrupted a private conversation.” 

Loki scowls at being reprimanded but doesn’t comment on it. 

“Odin has asked for Y/N,” Loki states. “He wishes for our courtship to follow Asgardian traditions which means…”

“He wants to offer his blessing,” Frigga frowns. “And more…” 

You scowl at the addition and wonder what you could have possibly signed up for. As if sensing your concern, Frigga turns to you and offers you an encouraging smile.

“Don’t fret,” she tells you. “All will be explained.” 

This doesn’t assure you at all. Being called to speak to Odin about your courtship with no preparation at all was just a recipe for disaster. 

“Now you two get going,” Frigga orders. “If you waste more time, Odin will grow suspicious.” 

You don’t need to be told twice and Loki is quick to offer his arm for you to take. You slip your hand to the crook of his arm and allow him to escort you out. The silence you’re met with after should have been a reprieve except you knew Loki was still reeling from your revelation.

“I’m sorry I tricked you,” you find yourself apologizing to him. “I just… I knew this would be the reaction.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Well it seems like you do,” you point out. “You’re upset.” 

Loki’s scowl deepens and you don’t understand why he’s taken such offense. 

“Why are you so upset?” 

“I’m tired of people making a fool of me,” Loki grits out as he glared down at you. “I may be the God of Lies but that doesn’t mean I enjoy being lied to.” 

“You know you’re being hypocritical seeing as you lied to me first,” you argue. “You manipulated me into this courtship by withholding vital information. Your mother herself said you even have your own selfish reasons in doing so… so don’t act so hurt when I’ve been playing this game the same way you are.”

Loki’s glare is still intense but the tension in his body disappears. You had a point. You knew you had a point. And you knew he hated that you were right. 

“We will discuss this later,” Loki sighs out. “For now, act happy and in love with me.”

You immediately take a deep breath and smile softly up at him. 

“Is that loving enough for you?” 

“You’re insufferable,” Loki mutters as he turns away from you. “Now keep up. We’re about to have quite an audience.” 

You hope he’s lying to you this time, but he isn’t. The moment you enter the courtyard, there is a brief moment of silence before whispers take its place. All eyes are on you and Loki causing you to hold on to him a little tighter.  

Surprisingly enough, he looks down at you with a soft smile and raises your hand to press a light kiss on it. You almost believe he’s being sincere but you are reminded that this is all a lie. Either way, the act eases you enough that you are able to ignore the whispers that uttered your name and continue forward. 

Loki leads you to the throne room where you find King Odin waiting. He remains as serious as you first met him. His gaze picking you apart in the few seconds that you’ve been in his presence. 

“Lady Y/N,” he greets. 

“Your majesty,” you greet in return as you offer a slight bow. 

“Thank you for coming,” Odin states, his expression never wavering. “It seems like my son left a few details out last night when we first met.” 

You can’t help but glance over at Loki unsure of how you were meant to respond to that. 

“Odin, do not accuse her…” 

You squeeze Loki’s arm in alarm. You didn’t know what you would do if they both got into an argument at this moment. 

“Forgive me… forgive us for keeping the information secret. It was a decision we both agreed on when Loki decided to bring me to Asgard,” you interrupt him. “We were… We were unsure of how you would take it and in all honesty, I was scared enough to be here as a guest. Loki didn’t want to add more onto my plate so we decided to keep this to ourselves.” 

Odin hums at your response. His expression softening slightly as he considered your words. 

“I can’t forgive you,” Odin states, causing you and Loki to tense in alarm. “For there is nothing to forgive you for. I understand your unique situation and I wish nothing but happiness for the both of you. That said, you have my blessing under one simple condition.” 

You glance over at Loki in apprehension but he just scowls in annoyance. 

“Your relationship may be advanced in Midgardian tradition but I wish to see it under the structure of courtship in Asgard.” 

Loki lets out an exasperated sigh but knew better than to argue with Odin at the moment.  

“There will be certain traditions I hope you may follow,” Odin explains with a smile that you can’t help but believe be of amusement. “We will start simple with an act of gift giving and then progress to banquets so you may introduce your relationship to Asgardian society. From there, well… we shall see if you’ll reach the next stage.” 

You try to make sense of what he’s requesting. It seems simple enough that you don’t understand why Odin believed your lie would collapse before then. 

“Loki honoring our tradition, you will give Lady Y/N a blade crafted for her use only,” Odin states. “As for you, Lady Y/N, it is tradition that a woman shall give her partner a handmade shirt for him to wear. You will show off these gifts of affection on your first banquet which will be two nights from now.”

That was a quick turnaround and you now realized the king was hoping to set you up to fail. You didn’t understand the urgency of doing so but you knew that those secrets that Loki has been hiding were most likely the answer to your question.  

“I hope that won’t be too much trouble.” 

You were not someone so easily scared off and you enjoyed a good challenge here and there.

“Not at all,” you respond to Odin as you offer him a smile. “If this is what you wish, then so be it.” 

Odin seems to realize that you were no stranger with a battle of authority. Perhaps you and Loki were a true match if that were the case. 

“If that is all, Odin, we wish to retire to our rooms,” Loki states. “It has been quite a day.” 

“Ah yes, you may take your leave,” Odin responds watching as Loki escorts you out. The moment the doors are about to be open he speaks again. “There should be no need of me to remind you that though you may be sharing a room, your actions have consequences. Please do try to avoid another scandal.”

Loki drags you away at Odin’s parting words in fear that you might bite his head off at the accusation made. He was right in doing so as your face had grown red in a mix of embarrassment and anger. 

“Your father’s an ass.” 

Loki could only laugh in agreement.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer​ @just-the-hiddles​ @jessiejunebug​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @smollest-soybean​ @assassinoftheworld​ @readerbandit​ @doyoufeelikeayounggod​ @strangemcuvlogs​ @ha-tep​ @i-dont-know-eiither​ @gene-king​ @day-dreaming-fox​ @bn-studies​ @is-it-madness​ @sigyn-njorddottir​ @devilbat​ @victor-criss-bish​ @skinny-macncheese​ @musicconversedance​ @baby-bunnyxn​ @fandoms-allovertheplace​ @marvelloonie​ @jinxjinxednova​ @queenmuahaha​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas​ @thesilentbluesparrow​ @oddly-drawn-muse​ @josiehosiedaninja​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @sadwaywardkid​ @wolf-lover74​

All Works Tag: @jmb959​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @hellocookiecutter​ @steve-rogers-personal-hell​ @buckybarnesyard​ @not-zari-tak

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x ofc #loki x oc #prince loki x reader #prince loki x you #prince loki x ofc #prince loki x oc #poison & wine part 14 #marvel au #thor au #avengers au #fake dating au #Prince Loki of Asgard #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #fluff #angst #loki #loki series #loki fic #loki fanfic #prince loki #reader fic #reader-insert

[ofstormsandwolves]

christmas secrets

Zoey x Joan

Zoey, Joan, Simon, Mo, Leif, Tobin, Ava

Christmas parties, secret relationship, emotional hurt/comfort

The SPRQ Point Christmas party raises some dilemmas for Joan and Zoey as they try to keep their relationship a secret...

Read on AO3

“I was thinking of throwing a Christmas party.”

That sentence was perhaps the last thing Zoey Clarke expected to come out of her partner’s mouth, and the surprise must have shown on her face.

“I mean, for everyone at SPRQ Point,” Joan clarified. “We’ve done well this year; we’ve got the SPRQ Watch out there, we’ve made really good progress on the Chirp, the third floor have done really well with that SPRQ your imagination scheme in schools-”

“I still can’t believe you let them go with that name,” Zoey interrupted with a smirk.

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Ugh, the board lapped it up. It’s all cutesy and adorable, according to them, and they figured it’d appeal to kids. So I let them stick with it.”

The pair of them lapsed into silence then, picking at the remains of the takeout they’d ordered.

“So, uh, a Christmas party,” Zoey said after a few moments. “Sounds fun.”

Joan gave her a look. “See, your mouth says ‘fun’, but your face says ‘not fun’. Which one am I meant to believe?”

That drew a sigh from Zoey. “It’s nothing. I’m sure the party will be great, and I think it’s a really good idea. It’s just... How exactly are we going to go to a party and spend several hours with virtually everyone who works at SPRQ Point and keep our relationship secret? I mean, I know we have to, I know we agreed not to go public, but...”

Music swelled up then, echoing around the room, and Zoey knew it wasn’t coming from the television. Then, of its own accord, her mouth began moving as lyrics tumbled out.

“When you hold me in the street,

And you kiss me on the dance floor,

I wish that it could be like that.

Why can’t it be like that?

‘Cause I’m yours.

We keep behind closed doors.

Every time I see you, I die a little more.

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls.

It’ll never be enough.”

Joan was gaping a little, clearly uncomfortable, and Zoey tried to clamp her mouth shut but the words were forcing themselves out of her throat. A part of her was mortified, that she’d completely lost control of her body, and that she was forcing Joan into such an awkward situation. A bigger part of her was terrified of what would happen once she stopped singing, however. It wasn’t like they could just ignore what had just happened, no matter how much either woman wanted to. Of course Joan knew about Zoey’s powers, had known about them for months, but she’d only witnessed them on one occasion; the day Zoey had glitched and ended up singing Pressure to Danny Michael Davis. That had been awkward, this was even worse.

“It’s obvious you’re meant for me,

Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly,

Every second, every thought, I’m in so deep.

But I’ll never show it on my face.

But we know this

We got a love that is homeless.”

“Z-Zoey,” Joan managed to get out then. “Zoey, stop.”

But she couldn’t. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know how, she must be glitching again. And that meant having to actually have a conversation about what was happening. They’d been having such a nice night, too. Why did her powers have to go and ruin everything?

“Why can’t you hold me in the street?

Why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that.

Why can’t we be like that?

‘Cause I’m yours.”

Suddenly, Joan was setting her takeout on the coffee table, leaning towards her and grasping her hands in her own. “Zoey, it’s alright.”

Zoey couldn’t stop singing if she wanted to, but the soft, concerned look in Joan’s eyes nearly made her falter anyway. Was it possible Joan wasn’t mad? Sure, she knew that this wasn’t Zoey’s fault, that she couldn’t exactly turn her powers on and off when it was convenient, but still she’d expected her partner to at least be a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.

“Why can’t I say that I’m in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftop.

I wish that it could be like that.

Why can’t we be like that?

‘Cause I’m yours.”

Finally, thankfully, the song came to an end and Zoey bit her lip. The pair sat in silence for a good few moments before it was broken.

“So.” Joan managed a small, slightly awkward smile. “You wanna talk about that?”

 Ten minutes later, Zoey was tucked into Joan’s body, the older woman gently running her fingers through red hair.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Zoey said for the fifth time.

“I know,” Joan assured quietly. “I know you can’t help it.” She sighed. “But we do have to talk about this. I mean, why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling? I thought we were on the same page, that we both knew why we had to keep this relationship quiet?”

“I do know,” Zoey promised. “But I don’t... I don’t like it. I don’t like having to sneak around at work when I’ve met you for lunch or you’re picking me up after work to go out for dinner. I hate having to be evasive about weekend plans, and I really don’t like the idea of going to this Christmas party and not being able to dance with you.” She pulled away then, to meet the older woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve put you in an awkward position.”

“I think I preferred the awkward position from last Friday,” Joan countered, a small smirk on her lips as she reminded her partner of the previous weekend, where they’d not even made it out of the bedroom.

Zoey’s cheeks flushed a nice pink, but the uncertainty in her eyes didn’t fade.

Joan took her hand again, squeezing it. “Believe me, Zoey, I hate this as much as you do. If I could announce it to the world tomorrow, I would. But I’m only acting CEO. Sooner or later, Danny Michael Davis will come back and I’ll be back on the fourth floor. Do you really want the whole team knowing that we’re dating? Not to mention the HR issues it will throw up.”

It was Zoey’s turn to sigh, then. “No. No, I get it. I’m sorry, I guess I’m just feeling a little fragile, and a little sad. It would have been nice to go to the party together, you know? Have a dance, have a drink. Maybe kiss under some mistletoe.”

“Yeah,” Joan smiled a little sadly. “That would be nice.”

Zoey moved to lean back into her partner then, snuggling up close. “Sorry for saying ‘sorry’ a lot, too.”

“You just said it again.” The smirk was evident in the older woman’s voice.

The redhead thought on that a moment. “Damn.”

 As it was, Joan went ahead and organised the party, and by the time the invites had been sent out two weeks before Christmas, the fourth floor was buzzing with the news.

“Hey, Zoey, did you get the e-vite about the Christmas party?” Tobin asked as she sat down at her desk Friday morning.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, shrugging off her coat and hoping nobody would pick up on the fact she’d already known about the party long before the invitations.

“It’s gonna be dope,” Tobin grinned. “I can’t believe Joan’s renting out the entirety of the Paragon! That place is booked up weeks in advance; I couldn’t even sneak my way in. And believe me, I tried.”

Zoey managed to muster a small smile at Tobin’s enthusiasm, and quickly turned her attention to her computer. “Yeah, well. I’m sure Joan just wanted to make sure everyone has a good time.”

“Do you think Joan will be there?” Leif piped up from his own desk, a slightly hopeful tone to his voice that made Zoey frown.

Feeling a little bit of jealousy bubble up in her chest, she tried to school her expression. “Maybe, why?”

Leif’s cheeks flushed then, his gaze skittering away from Zoey. “No reason.”

Her eyes narrowed, watching the man carefully as he busied himself with work. Joan had made it clear to him that their relationship- if it could even have been called that- was over, but Zoey couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. She knew that Joan didn’t want a relationship with Leif, that had been obvious even before she’d asked Zoey out, but was it possible that Leif himself wasn’t aware? Did he think he still had a chance?

Clenching her jaw and forcing her attention back to her computer, Zoey began angrily punching out code for the Chirp.

 When the morning of the party rolled around a week and a half later, Zoey didn’t feel any better about having to hide hers and Joan’s relationship at the party, nor did she feel any better about Leif’s potential feelings for her partner.

“What do you mean we’re going together?”

Admittedly, Zoey had only been half listening to what Joan was saying, poking and prodding at her takeout and lost in her own thoughts.

“Well,” Joan scoffed, looking a little irritated, “it’s silly for us to take two cars.”

“B-But that means arriving together,” Zoey said, brow furrowing and mind racing. “And leaving together. Don’t you think that will raise questions?”

The older woman rolled her eyes. “Zoey, it’s a work party. I’m sure we won’t be the only people splitting a car ride. It’ll be fine.”

Zoey found herself nodding at that, though she wasn’t wholly convinced. It seemed a little too much like tempting fate, particularly with Leif potentially sniffing around. Maybe that was the point. Maybe Joan didn’t want to announce their relationship but figured that people working it out on their own wouldn’t be as bad? That being said, HR would still be a problem, so maybe that wasn’t it. Honestly, Zoey didn’t know what was going on.

“We don’t have to go together, you know,” Joan said then, sounding a little disappointed but trying to hide it. “I just thought it would be nice. And you could come back here afterwards, spend the night. If you wanted, of course.”

Almost as though it was planned, Hermés chose that moment to appear at Zoey’s feet, staring expectantly up at the woman as she poked at her breakfast.

“That sounds nice,” Zoey admitted slowly. “I mean, if you’re sure you don’t mind having me here two nights in a row.”

A smirk spread across Joan’s face. “Why would I mind?” she asked, surveying the younger woman over her coffee mug. “That’s two nights in a row I get you all to myself.”

“You get me all to yourself whenever you want, Joan,” Zoey pointed out then, though she couldn’t stop her lips quirking in a slight smirk of her own. Then, she sighed. “Fine. If you think it won’t raise too many questions, and we can swing it, then sure. Let’s go together.”

“You sure? I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Zoey smiled again, this time a more relaxed smile. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

 That night, the pair of them arrived at Paragon in a sleek black Mercedes that Joan had rented for the night. The driver even held the door open for the pair of them as they slid out in their dresses and heels. Zoey’s fingers itched to reach out and entwine themselves with Joan’s, so she instead busied herself with smoothing her dress out instead.

“Ready?” Joan asked, sparing her partner a glance before looking towards the club.

Zoey followed her partner’s gaze. Paragon had only been open a few months, but it was already a hot place to be in San Francisco, and she could see why. It was situated at the top of a skyscraper, boasting views out across the Golden Gate Bridge, and probably cost Joan a pretty penny to book out for SPRQ Point. Hopefully the location of the party would distract the guests from Joan’s and Zoey’s arrival.

They made their way up to the club via the elevator, an uneasy silence between the two women.

“So, uh, I guess this is it.” Zoey said after a few moments. “I mean, we’re gonna have to mingle with the other guests, maybe dance, have some food. You’ll have to circulate, of course.”

“Of course,” Joan said, sounding a little disappointed.

“How do we do this, then? Do I come find you when it’s time to leave? Or, well, I guess you should come find me. After all, you’re the boss-”

Zoey was cut off abruptly by Joan’s lips on hers. The kiss was soft but insistent, and she practically melted into the touch. But it only lasted a few seconds, before Joan pulled away.

“I, uh, needed something to sustain me,” the brunette said then, looking a little embarrassed as she instead checked her makeup in the mirrored walls of the elevator.

“Uh huh,” Zoey managed, feeling a little dazed.

The elevator doors opened then, and already Joan was hurrying out before Zoey could fully process what had happened. With a sigh, she could only watch as her girlfriend disappeared into the throng, greeting people as she went. Shoulder slumped, Zoey looked around at the impressively decorated club for a moment before making a beeline for the bar. She needed a drink.

 An hour into the party, Zoey was feeling more than a little sorry for herself. She’d spent most of the time at the bar, sipping drinks and occasionally making small-talk with people who came by. Tobin had greeted her with a grin before hurrying off to grab more food, and several people from the sixth floor had also had brief conversations with her.

Now, she was stood at the edge of the dance floor, yet another drink in hand as she watched people dance and have fun. It wasn’t fair. It was Christmas, the party was to celebrate a great year, and everyone was having a good time but her. Occasionally, she caught sight of Joan talking to one of her employees, often with a forced smile and a fake look of interest on her face. Zoey wanted nothing more than to be able to sweep in and tug Joan away from those boring conversations to go make out in a dark corner, but she knew she couldn’t. For a start, it would tip off to the entirety of SPRQ Point that she was in a relationship with the boss, and secondly Joan would be furious. But then she remembered the kiss in the elevator, and she couldn’t tell if her knees went weak from the memory or the alcohol, but all it did was make Zoey long for Joan even more.

Shaking her head to clear it, she instead made her way towards the DJ booth. She’d persuaded Joan to hire Mo for the event, even though Paragon had offered their own DJ. With Max no longer around, and things being really quite awkward between herself and Simon due to her having to turn him down once she and Joan got together, Zoey needed a friendly face at the party.

“Howdy,” Zoey greeted as she reached her friend.

Mo, for his part, fixed her with a look and a slight smirk. “And how many of those lovely martinis have you already had tonight?”

Zoey shrugged at the question. “I don’t know. Five? Six? Who’s counting? I’m not!”

At her answer, it seemed that Mo didn’t quite know whether to be amused or concerned, and he studied her for a long moment. “Now, Zo-loft, how have you been? I’ve noticed you haven’t been at your apartment as much lately. Staying with your mysterious lover?”

In her drunken state, Zoey could do nothing to stop the grin from spreading across her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Mo returned his attention to his records briefly to change tracks, before turning back to his friend. “Well, that would be why I asked the question. You’ve been flitting in and out, disappearing for entire nights at a time and showing back up with a ridiculous grin on your face and still you refuse to tell me who the lucky man is.”

Snorting, Zoey waved a hand dismissively. “Please,” she said, laughing slightly. “I’m over men. They’re nothing but drama. I mean, the whole thing with Simon, and Max, and the singing and the dancing and the kissing...”

Mo arched an eyebrow at that, and he surveyed her again, as though seeing her through new eyes. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess that serves me right for assuming.” He tilted his head to one side, considering, before staring out across the dance floor.

Zoey watched as her friend stared, silently holding her breath and hoping Mo couldn’t read her too well.

After several long moments, Mo looked back to her. “Does she make you happy?”

“Very.” Zoey waggled her eyebrows, and Mo shook his head.

“Ugh. Go away please. You are nauseatingly loved up right now. And drunk. And I don’t want you throwing up on my records.” He made a shooing motion with his hands.

Rolling her eyes, Zoey spun on her heel and headed away, taking a large gulp of martini as she did so. Just as she was lowering her glass, however, she walked straight into someone and nearly toppled to the ground. A hand shot out, grabbing her around the waist to steady her. Zoey blinked, and looked up into bright blue, concerned eyes.

 “Joan!”

The small redhead was beaming up at Joan as though she hung the stars in the night sky, and the thought made the older woman glance around in concern.

“You ok there? You ploughed straight into me.” Joan surveyed her carefully, a small frown furrowing her brow. She seemed sort of unsteady on her feet, and now she thought about it, she was pretty certain Zoey had spent a great deal of time propping up the bar. Not that she’d been keeping tabs on her partner, or anything.

“I’m great,” Zoey grinned. “Have you tried the martinis here? They’re amazing!”

“Uh, yeah, they’re something alright. I mean, they should be at $9 a go.” Joan’s frown deepened. “Zoey, are you alright?”

When Zoey only grinned back drunkenly, Joan let out a sigh. Sure, Joan herself had also had a few drinks, but something told her that the younger woman had several drinks on her, and she also knew that it took less time for her to get drunk. After all, Zoey was small and hadn’t had twenty years of being married to Charlie to harden her to the effects of liquor. While Joan was merely buzzed, Zoey was flat out drunk. And if they weren’t careful, they’d end up causing a scene.

“Ok,” she said, moving to steer her partner towards some seating, “how about we have a sit down? The last thing we want is you falling flat on your face.”

It was only halfway towards the plush seating that Joan realised she still had one arm firmly around Zoey’s waist. Swallowing thickly and hoping nobody had noticed, she quickly guided Zoey to sit herself down before crouching in front of her.

“I’m, uh, gonna go grab some water. See if we can sober you up.”

Zoey scrunched her nose up at the suggestion. “Why? It’s a party, Joan. Come on, have a drink with me!”

Part of Joan really, really wanted to give in to that. She wanted nothing more than to have a drink with her partner, and to maybe get drunk enough to make an ass of herself on the dance floor, and then make out with Zoey in the car on the way home. Everything Charlie had always hated. But the logical part of her was reminding her that nobody could know about their relationship, and with Zoey already drunk she needed to stay sober enough to deal with the situation. Forcing a tight smile onto her face, she repeated herself.

“I’m gonna grab some water.” She stood then, before pausing. “Uh. Just stay here, ok?”

Joan set off towards the bar then, giving polite smiles to various subordinates she barely recognised as she passed them. Within a minute, she was returning to Zoey’s booth with a large glass of water, hoping it would be enough. But when she returned, she saw Simon seated opposite Zoey, leaning forward with his forearms on the table.

“Well, I’m just saying,” Simon said with a laugh as Joan drew nearer, “you seem a little drunk. Maybe you should call it a night?”

“Pfft,” Zoey snorted. “I’m not drunk! Besides, I can’t leave until Joan leaves.”

Joan felt her heart stop in her chest at that, and she held her breath as she waited for a response.

“Ah,” Simon nodded knowingly, “you want to stay until the boss calls it quits. I get that. But maybe you should lay off the martinis? I think you’ve had enough.”

Squaring her shoulders, Joan crossed the rest of the floor to reach Zoey’s side. She flashed Simon a slightly cruel smile and set the glass of water on the table in front of the redhead.

“Here we are; one glass of water. We really don’t need you throwing up all over the dance floor.”

As the words left her mouth, however, Joan caught sight of Simon’s slight frown. Huh. Perhaps she’d played it a little too cool. Forcing a tight smile onto her lips, she turned her attention back to her partner and pushed the glass towards her.

“Drink.”

Thankfully, Zoey did as she was told, downing the water with almost impressive speed. Simon shifted to stand then, sparing a confused look at Joan before flashing a smile at Zoey.

“Well, uh, I’ll leave you ladies to it. Zoey, if you’re not too drunk, how about a dance later?”

Zoey went wide-eyed at that, and for the second time in as many minutes Joan’s heart was in her mouth. But thankfully, the younger woman instead just nodded slowly.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.”

Simon left then, and Joan watched him go for a few moments before sliding into his recently vacated seat opposite Zoey. She fixed her partner with an unimpressed look. Zoey, for her part, held her ground. Perhaps she was getting better to standing up against her girlfriend. Perhaps she was just too drunk to be nervous.

“Joan, I’m fine. I’m not even that drunk.” The redhead rolled her eyes for good measure.

“Uh huh. Sure. But let’s not add to that drunkenness.” Joan sighed then. “Zoey, I’m sorry. I wish we didn’t have to hide our relationship. I wish we could be together, spend time together here instead of sneaking around.”

It was Zoey’s turn to sigh, and her gaze skittered away, her previous alcohol-fuelled joy evaporating quickly. She surveyed the dance floor for a long moment, watching colleagues dancing and laughing and drinking, before slowly looking back to Joan.

“You want to maybe make out in the bathroom a bit?”

Despite herself, a slow grin spread across Joan’s face. Before she could form a response, Zoey had taken her by the hand and was tugging her in the direction of the toilets.

 Making out in the women’s restroom of Paragon wasn’t exactly how either Joan or Zoey had thought the evening would go, but they weren’t about to complain about it. It didn’t take long for hands to roam and dresses to get bunched up as previously coiffed hair was wrapped around fingers and makeup was smudged.

Zoey was busy sucking at Joan’s pulse point when the door to the bathroom opened. The pair sprung apart as though electrocuted, and quickly busied themselves with smoothing out clothing and fiddling with hair in an attempt to look more presentable.

“- until at least the middle of next year. Oh.” Ava Price blinked, frowning a little at Joan’s and Zoey’s slightly dishevelled appearances. “Hello, Joan. Zoey.”

Ava and the two women who had come into the bathroom with her surveyed Zoey and Joan with a look of confusion, and the redhead quickly forced a nervous grin.

“Watch out for those hand dryers,” she said with an awkward laugh. “They’re really strong. Practically destroyed my hair.”

“Uh, yeah. Really strong,” Joan echoed, plastering her own fake smile on her face.

Ava looked between the pair of them for a long moment, clearly unimpressed by their excuse, before simply rolling her eyes and stepping into the nearest cubicle. The two other women ducked into cubicles too, and Joan and Zoey shared a wide-eyed, embarrassed glance, before quickly moving for the door.

“Ugh,” Joan said once they were out of the bathroom. “Well that was fun.”

“I know,” Zoey sighed. “I’m sorry. I should never have suggested-”

But Joan shook her head. “Zoey, it’s fine. I went along with it, I didn’t say no.” She surveyed her partner for a few moments. “And you’re still really drunk, aren’t you?”

The younger woman shrugged. “Well, that water did help. But... Kinda?”

Letting out a sigh, Joan took a moment to just breathe. She’d had a few drinks as well, of course, and she could only blame the alcohol in her system for hers and Zoey’s make out session. In no other circumstance would she have even considered making out at a word function, Christmas party or not. She had rules, rules that she had set herself so that her employees and colleagues could never call her unprofessional, could never insist that she was too emotional or that she was proof women shouldn’t be in the tech industry. And now they’d potentially been seen by Ava, and even if Ava had no hard proof they’d certainly been far too careless.

A hand was on her arm then, and she looked round to see Zoey watching her in concern. She forced a smile.

“We should get back to the party.”

Zoey smiled sadly. “Yeah.”

 “Zoey.”

Zoey looked up to see Leif staring at her, a tight smile on his face and a mannerism that seemed a little... Odd.

“Leif,” she greeted, frowning a little before returning her attention to the food. Maybe if she ate some more she’d sober up more.

“So, uh, I see you and Joan went to the bathroom together,” he said. “Girl talk?”

That made her frown deepen. “That’s none of your business, Leif.”

Leif shifted at that, and glanced across the room for a moment before returning his gaze to Zoey. “I know you sabotaged me and Joan. She told me that you told her about my feelings. And I saw how you left together that night at the bar. I mean, I had a pretty good view from the stage, and the pair of you seemed very... Intimate.”

Swallowing thickly, Zoey concentrated harder on the food in front of her. She and Joan hadn’t been together at that point, and honestly, it was Leif’s singing that had mostly scared them away. But she couldn’t say that, and she didn’t trust herself not to let anything slip. So instead, she fixed him with a tight smile.

“Well, this has been a great talk, Leif, but I have to go.”

If Leif had a response to that, Zoey didn’t wait around to hear it.

 Zoey sought safety hanging out with Mo at the DJ decks again.

“Please tell me you’ve been staying away from the bar,” he said in way of greeting as Zoey appeared at his side.

“I have. Joan made me drink some water,” Zoey said without thinking.

At the comment, Mo arched an eyebrow. “You know, you’ve certainly been spending a lot of time with the lovely Joan the last few months. Anything I should know about?”

Something in his tone seemed that little bit too smug, and Zoey was reminded of their earlier conversation and how he had asked if she was happy. Did he already know? Honestly, she didn’t have Mo pegged as a subtle person, but maybe...

“No.” Zoey stuffed a pig in a blanket into her mouth quickly.

“Mmm,” Mo hummed, an amused expression on his face. “You know, Zoey Clarke, you are a terrible liar. Besides, a little Christmas robin told me that you two ducked into the bathroom earlier and came out looking rather dishevelled. And the pair of you clearly have feelings for one another.” He gave her a pointed look at that.

Zoey said nothing, but flushed a dull red. She wasn’t supposed to be telling anyone. Not even her mom or David knew about her and Joan. Besides, she couldn’t tell Mo in the middle of a SPRQ Point party, not after the near run-in with Ava.

Mo turned his attention back to the music, then, and for a moment it didn’t register in Zoey’s head as a familiar strain of music started up. But it was only as everything else seemed to distort as though in slow motion that she realised what was happening.

Joan was across the dance floor, talking with someone Zoey vaguely recognised from PR. Leif, meanwhile, was several feet away, a drink in hand and a pained expression on his face.

“Oh, no,” Zoey murmured. “No, no, no...”

And suddenly, Leif was singing.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special...”

He began moving then, setting his drink down on a table before moving towards an oblivious Joan. Everything was soft and slow-motion, except for Leif who stood out in glorious technicolour.

“Once bitten and twice shy,

I keep my distance,

But you still catch my eye.

Tell me baby,

Do you recognise me?

Well, it’s been a year,

It doesn’t surprise me...”

Zoey felt like she couldn’t move. Like she was stuck to the floor. Part of her brain knew she wouldn’t be able to intervene anyway, but a bigger part of her was stuck on the fact she’d been right to be concerned about Leif. He clearly still had feelings for Joan, and after the confrontation at the buffet...

“I wrapped it up and sent it

With a note saying, ‘I love you’, I meant it.

Now, I know what a fool I’ve been,

But if you kissed me now

I know you’d fool me again.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special...”

He was dancing around Joan then, and annoyance bubbled up in Zoey’s chest. Even from where she was stood she could see the look on Leif’s face. Part longing, part disappointment, part something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“A crowded room, friends with tired eyes,

I’m hiding from you, and your soul of ice.

My God, I thought you were someone to rely on.

Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on...

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special...”

The song faded out then as everything returned to normal. Joan left her conversation, Leif was back where he started sipping a drink, and Zoey was wholly confused.

“And what is going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Mo’s voice startled Zoey from her thoughts, and she turned to look to her friend.

“Hey, uh, Mo, what does it mean if someone sings Last Christmas?”

Mo tilted his head to one side, considering that for a long moment. “Well, that depends. It’s a song about unrequited love and heartbreak, but it’s also about moving on, finding someone else. I’d say if someone’s singing that, they want to move on.”

Zoey bit her lip. “But they still have feelings for that person, right? I mean, with the whole ‘fool me again’ thing?”

“Sure, but the song is all about not wanting to make the same mistake, about moving past that and not putting yourself through that pain again. No matter what your feelings are for someone, sometimes you just have to walk away.” Mo studied her carefully then. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the lovely Joan, would it?”

“Leif just sang it to Joan.” Zoey pouted for a moment, before catching herself and trying to school her expression.

“Uh huh, and you don’t like it because you’d rather have Joan all to yourself.” That earned Mo a scowl, but he simply smirked. “Child, please. You two are so loved up a blind person could see it from the North Pole.”

“Oh.” Zoey frowned. “Are we that obvious? I mean, how long have you known?”

Mo’s amused expression quickly turned to one of reassurance then as Zoey panicked. “Zoey, calm down. I only figured it out tonight.” He thought for a moment. “Honestly, I’m kind of ashamed it took me so long. I am not on my A-game.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway. You said earlier, you’re not with men anymore. And you’ve definitely been seeing someone. Plus you and Joan have grown awfully close since her divorce.” Mo shrugged. “It just makes sense.”

Shoulders slumping in relief, Zoey surveyed her partner across the dance floor. “You know, tonight’s really sucked. We had to have a whole fake story about how we were sharing a ride here because it was easier, to hide our relationship. We haven’t been able to have a single dance, we nearly got caught by Ava making out in the bathroom, I spent an hour drowning my sorrows at the bar while Joan’s had to make small talk with everyone...” She trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

Mo frowned at that. “Oh, please, Zoey, half the people here are halfway to being comatose what with all the fancy over-priced drinks they’ve been drinking. Nobody is going to care if you and Joan dance.”

“But it will raise questions-”

“No, it won’t. Now go.” He took Zoey’s half-finished plate of food from her and pointedly pushed her towards the dance floor. “Go get your woman. I have the perfect song for you.”

 Zoey appearing at Joan’s elbow in the middle of a very dull conversation with three people from- marketing? Sales? Honestly, Joan couldn’t remember.

“Zoey! Hi. Uh, can I help you?”

The younger woman had a slightly nervous smile on her face that made Joan worry just a little. “Yeah, actually, if you’re not too busy. I just figured, you know, we’ve been here a while and I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t had a single dance. I mean, I’m not the best of dancers, but...”

Joan let out an awkward laugh at that, and was somewhat surprised to see the people she’d been talking to simply flash her a grin and make their goodbyes. Taking the opportunity to seize Zoey by the arm, she led her partner away from the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “We agreed to keep a low profile! I mean, we already risked it in the bathroom earlier!”

“I know.” Zoey held her hands up in a placating gesture. “But Mo said that nobody will care-”

“Mo knows? Oh god!”

“-because everyone’s mostly drunk anyway, and I really wanna dance with you, Joan. It doesn’t have to be some romantic slow dance. Actually, it’s best it’s not. But just... One dance, Joan? Please?”

Joan let out a sigh then, trying to ignore Zoey’s wide, imploring eyes. But it seemed impossible, and she made a good point about people being drunk. Lots of people were dancing together. Tobin had danced with almost everybody. Would people really think anything bad if Zoey and Joan spent some time on the dance floor?

“Keep your hands to yourself,” she said, before turning and walking to the dance floor.

Zoey followed with a grin, and when they got there, Mo spotted them and gave a big grin before switching to a new track. As the music began to play, Joan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“You’re kidding me,” she said, shaking her head as laughter threatened to bubble up.

“Hey,” Zoey grinned, “Mo’s got good taste.”

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas,

There is just one thing I need...”

As more people joined the dancing around them, Joan allowed herself to move that little bit closer to Zoey.

“You don’t have to,” Zoey murmured as Joan took her hand in her own.

Joan gave a soft smile in response. “I want to.”

She pulled her partner into a loose embrace, something that wouldn’t raise too many eyebrows if people took notice, but allowed her that little bit of closeness she’d been craving all night. Hopefully to unsuspecting eyes it would simply look like two friends enjoying themselves on the dance floor.

The pair of them danced and laughed through the first two verses and chorus, grins on their faces as they enjoyed themselves. Instead of a gentle or respectable swaying, they moved that little bit too much, that little too wildly, in a parody of a romantic slow dance complete with the occasional silly face at one another. They were spurred on by laughter and alcohol, and Joan couldn’t deny just how right it felt to dance with Zoey in that way. But she wanted more. On a whim, she tugged Zoey closer, and leaned down to quietly sing along to the song.

“I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you...”

She spun Zoey then, eliciting a laugh from the younger woman as she fell into Joan’s embrace. Perhaps they’d both had a tiny bit too much to drink to contemplate any more spinning, but as Zoey instead tucked her still-giggling form into Joan’s chest, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. After too short a time, the song came to a close.

Joan took a breath, a soft smile on her lips, and then she quietly moved to whisper in Zoey’s ear. “So. You wanna get out of here?”

Zoey’s grin was more than enough of a response.

#zoey x joan #zep fic #zoey clarke #joan bennett #zoeys extraordinary playlist

[ayankun]

Ok so let’s talk about this

In 10x3, Soul Survivor, Sam is trying to cure Demon!Dean while DwindlingGrace!Cas is painstakingly driving cross-country to assist.  Cas is being escorted by Hannah, an angel who is loyal to his cause but is also an angel’s angel, celestially aloof and lacking all the weird emotions he’s picked up from hanging out with humanity too much.

Hannah is also importantly perceived female (foil to Castiel’s perceived male) and is playing the narrative function of Damned Temptress.  It’s lampshaded in this ep, but it’s a recurring theme that Hannah, in one way or another, even if only as an allegory for Heaven’s collective business, stands between Castiel and his need to be close to the Winchesters (read: Dean).

So in this ep, Hannah (Heaven, et al) needs Cas, and Sam (Dean) needs Cas, and Cas explicitly prioritizes Same (Dean).  Sensing that Hannah does not agree with this prioritization, he attempts to clarify the situation:

The textual subtext here is that he’s using his acquired human communication skills to say one thing while meaning two things, an unnecessary subterfuge which Hannah calls him out on.  He’s talking literally about “no detours,” referencing a literal wrong turn Hannah made previously while at the wheel.  What he means, though, is that Dean (and whatever Heaven needs after that issue is resolved) takes priority over whatever “distraction” Hannah may prove to be to Cas because she’s female.

He’s trying to let her down easy, my guy.

And that’s text, that’s canon.  That’s non-negotiable.  The character of Hannah boils down to a threat of distraction that will keep him from his goals.  And in this episode, his goal is literally and only Dean.

So what got me thinking, at 4:30 AM, was, now that we have the chance to go back and reinterpret canon events through the filter of canon!Destiel (by which I mean, Cas’ confirmed romantic feelings for Dean), does his “no detours” (no human-style romantic entanglements) policy hold water?  Wouldn’t Dean, at this point in time, also be counted among the possible distractions?

Let’s go back to the start of the episode, where Cas gets to have a teachable moment with Hannah:

(sorry these caps are so dark, geez Ackles, turn on a light next time)

And now let’s go to the end of the episode, and maybe you can see what the difference is:

You see what he did there, right?  He went ahead and said what he felt, rather than trying to play by the rules of human conversation etiquette.  It’s an acknowledgement that his relationship with Dean is inherently different to his relationship with Hannah.

And then he straight up lies to Dean’s face, to try to protect him, just like a good emotionally-compromised human would:

(also, the second he says this, this fucking cue starts up, and it choked me up the first time and it’s choking me right now)

If you’re watching this for the first time in 2014, the current canon is that Dean and Cas share a “profound bond,” Cas is family to the Winchesters, and he is currently acting out of this loyalty and compassion towards them to put their needs before the needs of Heaven.

If you’re also a Destiel shipper, then you’re willfully reading into this the additional nuance that Cas is making a point to dissuade Hannah’s advances specifically because he’s already involved (to some extent) romantically with Dean.  I think that’s a fair subtext for this time frame!  Given that the angel character who represents Castiel’s responsibilities to Heaven was written as female, and how that responsibility is explicitly conflated with romantic "distraction” in this episode, the intent to directly contrast Castiel’s interactions with her and Dean is pretty evident.

But here in the year of our Chuck 2020, knowing what we know now, in terms of “canon,” this second interpretation, which for SIX YEARS has been optional -- up for debate, even -- is now retroactively confirmed canon.  But it was there all along, ready to be recontextualized in the event somebody happened to make a deathbed confession.

Like, at this exact moment in time, 9:24 AM Thursday morning, hours before the season’s penultimate episode airs, I’m 100% sure, canonically speaking, Castiel’s feelings are (and always have been) unrequited.  I believe this is the way the text was written, the way the explicit story beats have been presented.  BUT if somehow in the remaining minutes of showtime Dean’s reciprocal feelings are explicitly expressed (either in dialogue or some unambiguous use of cinematic language) I would be completely convinced and satisfied with that reveal.

What a wild ride, you guys.  I can’t wait to rewatch this whole freaking thing end to end.

#Supernatural #destiel #canon and its varied interpretations #spoilers

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 47 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea​ @asimovethroughthisworld​ @blackcherry26-blog​ @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella paced as she thought over everything. Laufey began to get tired even looking at her. “If I may?” she began. 

“I fear you forget you were told all this specifically for your input,” Loki chuckled. 

“We need to make it that none question the situation. That as far as the house of Laufey is concerned, there is this and only this and all stand behind it.” She inhaled deeply. “All within it.” “My brothers…”

“No, Loki, not just them.” She gave him an awkward look. 

“No.” He realised what she was referencing. “She’d never…” “So long as there is even a single scent of an alternative or uncertainty, some will argue, some will argue regardless but if there is even one possible chance of causing unrest, then there are some that will exploit such. We stand united, then none can try and do so. We get her in line, we rally together and we remain a strong single unit. No in-fighting, no weaknesses.” “How will that help?” Laufey asked, not out of dismissiveness but interest. “You see my father’s house, is there any weakness in it?” “None.” “No, because he never permitted it. Thor’s rages, my father’s Odinsleeps, they were not allowed be perceived as weaknesses, we stood as one. Behind closed doors, matters could be different, my father incandescent with rage at my brother’s stupidity and actions, my mother’s terrible fretting for my father’s health, but none outside can know those times, not in court and especially in the realms of our enemies, for they will be like carrion to a dying animal, circling, ready to feast on you as soon as you are too weak to fight back. We always stood as one in it.” Arden, Loki and Laufey looked at her with uncertainty. “I will not take offence if you think this too much. I merely wish to answer your question as best I can.”

“It is something we must consider,” Laufey stated. “If for nothing more than to deal with this situation. With two mates carrying and possibly a third, the house must ensure to be as safe as possible at this time.” 

Loki nodded slightly. He was unsure of what to think. There was a considerable chance that Angrboða would be unhappy that of the mates, she could potentially be the only one not carrying a child, he knew that had a risk of her being even more sour, when she and his brothers and their other mates would learn of Ella’s condition and how soon their child would arrive, there could be animosity, there may be no issue, he simply could not tell and that was concerning. It was usually seen as nothing to be upset by, being a non-carrying mate, so often they were the one to assist and were integral to the raising of the offspring, but it was not in keeping with the coldness she had shown of late, Loki was unsure if she would be in any manner of use to Alma, much less Ella, who he knew she would rather walk over hot coals than assist, and with the manner that Ella was speaking, it was clear that Greta and she were close, so if Greta also carried, he knew there was a significant chance that Angrboða would interpret that as Greta choosing Ella’s “side” over hers. He could see this going very wrong indeed. “It will not be easy.” 

“The truest path rarely is,” Ella commented. “You are best suited to the role of King of your generation of your family, there can be none of full mind that could argue such but to some, blood means more than mind and that is what we need to focus on, not letting such talk take too much hold because if it does, it does no one any favours.” 

Laufey listened for a few moments, contemplating her words and indeed everything that had been said as well as his own thoughts. “Arden?” The advisor looked at him. “Have Helbindi, Greta, Býleistr, Alma and Angrboða sent for, we deal with this now.” “Yes, My King.” He did as instructed and had the king’s other sons and their mates sent for. 

“Father?” Loki was unsure of it all. “We need this sorting immediately. I cannot rest without it being so. Ella, get yourself a seat, that child must be starting to weigh on you.” “He is resting contently, My King, and I am thankfully of good health to continue standing through anything I am required to at present, so if you do not take offence, I would rather remain standing for now.” Laufey chuckled slightly, knowing that little would convince Ella to do something she deemed unnecessary. “I am curious, without the Soul Forge the Allfather trusts so greatly, how have you come to assume it to be male?” “We have seen him.” Laufey found himself frowning at his son for his statement. “She has used her seidr to show him to us and he is male, I assure you.” Laufey could only smile proudly. “Such fine news. A female child would not be unwelcome either, mind.” 

“Going by the gender statistics, more than a few females are required to continue Jotunheim’s new prosperity. I have read…” Ella’s statement was cut short as the door to the room opened and Býleistr and his mates entered. 

For a moment, Býleistr looked worried but seeing the manner in which his father was seated and how Loki and Ella were standing, he became uneasy. “Father? What is this?” “We will speak when Helbindi and Greta arrive.” Was all his father gave him in response. 

Alma and Angrboða looked around worriedly also. It was most irregular for a mate to be brought in on such meetings but it was clear all were to be involved in this one. When finally, a tired-looking Helbindi and a somewhat confused Greta joined them, everyone was looking around with expectation. 

“Please don’t tell me there’s another war, I am going back to bed if there is.” Helbindi pleaded. 

“No, there is not,” Laufey assured him, “After one war, many realms like to regroup before beginning the next. No, we need to discuss a matter of importance to Jotunheim.” Helibindi and Býleistr looked at one another, then to Loki, who clearly knew what was afoot. “I am stepping down as King.” “What?” 

“How?” Laufey raised his hand, silencing his youngest and oldest sons. “I am stepping down whilst I still live. I am too weary for this, I have done so in all but name already. I cannot hold court for any notable length of time any longer and I cannot spend the last of my life like this. I want to rest before I die.” “But...we don’t...has this ever been done?” Helbindi asked. 

“Not that we know, but Father insists on doing so,” Loki stated calmly. “I tried to talk him out of it but he will not be swayed.” “Some will think this a bad idea, Father.” Býleistr declared. “Some will think it too soon.” “I know, but that begs the question, if I died tomorrow, would they think it too soon then?” “You would be dead, that alters things.” “It alters little. I am not fit for my station any longer. Be reasonable, what does it say for Jotunheim as a realm if the one who presides over it is a decrepit old Jotunn? What images does that portray of us over the realms? This is a realm that is about to see an explosion of youth, vivacity, growth and renewal, you cannot have an old being stand over that, the realm must be portrayed as it has to be.”

Býleistr and Helbindi did not argue that. There was no manner to argue such. “So, Loki takes the throne, why does this involve us all being here?” Helbindi asked. “I will not deny that being told in advance and not hearing it in the throne room without warning is nice, but our mates too? Why?” “Because you were not in the throne room yesterday, and as such, you are not aware of something that we are.” Laufey began. “There was a filthy lie circulated by Kristoff, do you recall him?” His sons nodded. “He and another circulated a rumour that your brother’s mate was disloyal to him in his absence.” Automatically, both Jotunns looked to their own mates, hurt at such an accusation. “No, not your mates, your brother’s,” Laufey clarified. Both then looked to Ella, who was somewhat grateful that neither seemed to think her capable of such a thing. Seeing the look on her face, they knew that there was no truth in the words. “She proved them to be nothing more than lies in mere moments, it is a pity you were not there, she tore Kristoff to strips, it was quite amusing. But that in itself is not the issue, what is was the manner in which he spoke, most concerningly, with regards bloodlines, specifically, Loki’s.” 

Both Býleistr and Helbindi found themselves reacting to that news in anger. They always joked with Loki on his mixed heritage meaning that he was slightly shorter and had hair as opposed to their standard Jotnar appearance but it was only ever in jest and they never allowed others speak down of their brother in their presence. “And?” Though Býleistr and Loki’s relationship was strained as a result of everything with Angrboða, Býleistr knew his Loki to be the only one of the three of them suited to the role of King, he had spoken many times with Helbindi on the matter, both hated the idea of being king, they were not of the mind and were entirely happy to serve their brother, knowing that he would listen to them when they would suggest matters and that he would never dismiss them from the home they knew their entire lives. 

“We are concerned that any show of doubt amongst this house in its entirety would cause issues moving forward,” Laufey explained. “I don’t follow, Father,” Helbindi confessed. “Why would there be doubt?” “With me?” Býleistr felt a terrible strike to himself at that statement. “That I would betray us?”  He thought of his time on the battlefield, his time before he left, how his guilt at loving his new mate had caused such consternation with his brother and how he thought they could move past it with everything, but instead, it was now that even their father did not trust him. 

“No, my son,” Laufey ensured he made that clear immediately. “Nothing of the sort. I merely wanted you all here so that we are all able to air any grievances we have because come my announcement, we must stand as one, this whole house.” 

Býleistr looked at Loki, who nodded. “I told you, after the war, I am not having anything so petty take up my time. Now, I have even more to consider, meaning I have even less time to worry about such things. You are my brother, you are one of the best fighters on our realm and you are the most learned on our military history, I can think of no place I would want you but by my side in this, especially with the transition over of the reign.”

That caused Býleistr to feel better, seeing his brother to truly mean it. “I will do all I can for Jotunheim, I always said that but understand that I also wish to assist Alma through carrying our child, that is all I ask, to be given the chance to be able to assist my mate. I assume you already know that she is carrying through your own mate as I am informed that she knows.” 

“Yes, I gave him a slight rundown of everything in your time gone. I did so with Alma’s permission, as of course, you are aware.” Ella smiled. “It is a good reason to do all of this right now, with the current number of child-bearing Jotnar, we need to make sure everything is as smooth as possible for the new generation and their parents for when they come, it is only a few short years to such.” 

“Then I guess if none can change Father’s mind and this is going to happen, we organise ourselves and ready for the madness that is going to be Loki’s reign,” Helbindi joked. 

“Like you could do better.” Loki scoffed in return. 

“Hey, I already said, do you know that Midgardian empire, Roman, I would have it like that.” He declared proudly. 

“You are aware there is a saying on Midgard about something entirely insane and falling down around you, society breaking apart is to be likened to the final days of the Roman Empire, don’t you?” Ella asked, recalling the empire in question and its implosion. 

“That was the best part of it, one emperor tried to make his horse a member of his council.” Though Ella could not agree that it was a good idea, it was clear Helbindi did actually know something of the era he referenced so she could only laugh in reply. 

“Now that is sorted, I need to ask all four mates, do any of you have an issues you wish to voice? For after today, any regarding the matters discussed today will be seen as purposely siding against us all and will not be taken well. We as a house must be one, even when we do not always agree.” 

There was no denying every eye on the room was on Angrboða, who saw fit to glare at Ella, who in turn merely stood forward. “Hate me, loathe me, be indifferent of me, I could not care less which you choose, but after today, come any reasonable request made by the new King, you do not stand against him on it lest you wish to embarrass this house, which I know you do not wish to do, or indeed his brother, your mate, which we all know you would never wish to do.” 

“Reasonable request?” Býleistr questioned. 

“Well, if Loki were to demand you and Helbindi go and live on Muspelheim or massacre all male born children or some other utter mad idea, I would expect you to at the very least question him as to why he would order such things, but if he were to say to check on the Western lands of Jotunheim as there seems to be some discord there, I would think it a fair request, would you not? You would not deny such a reasonable thing, would you?”

“You speak too much as one who acts like she has any standing in it, like you know so much,” Angrboða snapped. 

“And you speak as one who merely wishes to incite anger whilst never truly adding anything to a discussion.” Ella retorted. “I speak because I was asked to assist with this, when I was informed of my mate’s ascension to the throne earlier, I remained silent. I also need you to say what needs saying now and not any time after this so that we can ensure the wellbeing of the realm going forward.” She walked towards Angrboða with her shawl still warmly around her shoulders and blocking her pregnant stomach from view. “I know you feel attacked by this and I know you feel cornered. If we are all honest, it is you and your anger at myself and Loki that is the biggest concern moving forward, to say anything else would be a barefaced lie and if you would cause no issue, then it is an unwarranted concern on our behalfs and that is not fair on you but we need to know that the whole house will stand together and that includes in defence of you should it ever be required.”

“I will never require your help.”  

“We saw how long eight months can be, or indeed, you and Alma only had seven months without Býleistr, so do not say with such certainty that you will never require such. Seven months is a long time, not much shy of four thousand years is far far longer. But I will stand in your corner for that time, so long as we all remain as one unit throughout.” 

Angrboða was uncertain of what to say. She was by no means unintelligent, she knew that to decline Ella’s offer would be met with anger and was nothing short of a declaration that she was a liability to the House of Laufey. She had truly cared for Loki and his casting her aside for the ugly Aesir caused her immense pain but she could not allow her chance to remain with the mate she now had and the company in Alma, who she did truly like also to be taken from her because of the aesir she rarely saw. One glance at Býleistr and Alma told her that they were both pleading for her to cease her sniping at Ella, accept what was being said and get back to their own little area of the palace and continue with their own happy lives. For a moment, she looked at Loki, noting the indifference in his features. For a time after she declared she would no longer allow herself come second to the Aesir he had been assigned as a mate and especially when Loki had found out that she had bonded with Býleistr, she had seen forlornness, heartache and sadness in his features, now she only saw indifference. If anything, he seemed displeased at her even being so close to his mate, like he did not want her to even be in her presence. She did not need to look at Laufey, she knew well that the King disliked her beyond words for her actions with Býleistr and Loki and that the Aesir mate of his second son held a place in his heart she would do well not to upset. She finally looked at Ella again, who seemed all but voicing her attempts to have Angrboða agree with her. “I will never stand against my mate or this house, regardless of my personal opinion of some in it.” “Then it is settled.” Laufey rose to his feet. “I will announce it tomorrow, so everyone is to be in the throne room for it, no excuses and no being late.” 

He left the room leaving his sons and their mates standing there, Arden looking amongst them all as he did so. “Now, we best prepare everything,” He urged. 

“Yes,” Loki nodded. “We will ready ourselves now so that our night is not taken over with this.” He looked over to Ella. “I am sure you can think of a thousand aspects to this that none other can.”

“I never actually assisted in a coronation before,” She confessed. “My parents have protocols in place for if my father was to fall into a permanent Odinsleep and my brother was to take the throne to assist the transition for when such a mournful time is to come but actually doing one, I have not planned or bore witness to, but I know some aspects and I will endeavour to assist as best I can. I am sure whilst you deal with official matters, Alma, Greta, Angrboða and I can organise a few things between us?”

“Please, there is much to be done.” Arden gave her a list which consisted of many different duties.

“Norns, you men may see your beds tonight but I fear you will be alone in them with this list.” She scanned through it, allowing it to be altered in angle as Greta came over to read it too. “Easy knowing they left the real work to the more capable sex.” She handed the list to Alma who, along with Angrboða, read through it. “Well, the sooner we start, the sooner we are done. We will be in the old meeting room to the back.”

“That was the old war meetings room,” Helbindi informed her. “From, you know…” “Considering that if any bother us outside of providing us with something we requested or food, there will be war, I think it apt.” She walked off without another word, the other mates following her as she did, Greta smirking whilst she did so. 

“Something is different in your mate,” Býleistr noted to Loki. “She seems more...abrupt.” 

“I can’t believe Kristoff was so stupid as to accuse your mate of being disloyal,” Helbindi scoffed. “How did she deal with it?” “She stormed into the court, blasting both doors clean off their hinges and demanded the accusers step forward and stand over their accusations, Kristoff tried to act as though he didn’t loathe those not entirely of Jotnar blood and pretended they had been liaising in private for months but true to her personality, she ridiculed him as she proved his words false and had him reveal his true motives in the process, hence our knowing how some will react to my being named king.” His jaw clenched as he thought of Kristoff’s words. “He and his ilk are even more angered that in eight short months, we will be announcing the arrival of my even less Jotnar heir.” Loki awaited his brothers’ reactions. 

Býleistr simply frowned as he tried to compute Loki’s words while Helbindi visibly counted out the time. “But you’re not her mate long enough for you to have a child?” “Aesir and Vanir take only eighteen months to carry and birth.” Loki informed him. 

“So she...that quickly?” Helbindi was startled by such news. “How are their realms not infested to the point of overpopulation?” 

“They actively plan not to have children,” Loki informed him, having asked Ella himself how such was not an issue.

“Why would anyone wish to not have more children?” Býleistr could not comprehend such an idea. 

“Because unlike on this realm, others have a young population, not an old one. Ella told me of Midgard, it has had a population surge of nearly one and a half billion in the past two decades alone.” 

“One and...what in the...don’t they only live less than a hundred years?” Helbindi tried to comprehend such a concept. “So, that means you’re going to be King with about forty minutes before your mate has a child?” “More like eight months than forty minutes, but that is indeed what will be happening. Ella will birth our son in the near future.” Loki confirmed. 

“You cannot tell if it is a son before it’s born,” Býleistr scoffed. Loki merely gave him a smug smirk before going to deal with some of what needed to be done to ready for the impending announcement. “Wait, can they?”

Helbindi shrugged. “The only reason you knew she was in the same palace as you is because she called your name. According to Greta, she shot two jagged on-fire swords out of thin air and she knows spells that according to the Aesir we fought with, the Allfather and Allmother cannot manage, if she has told Loki that she carries a boy, then she is carrying a boy.” 

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 47 #wolfpawn

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True Romance: Saoirse Ronan and Timothée Chalamet on reuniting for Little Women

They may be posing in an airy lower Manhattan studio, but Timothée Chalamet and Saoirse Ronan have a way of making you feel right at home. “I made a little playlist this morning,” Chalamet announces to the room. He syncs up his cell phone to the sound system, his boyish grin widening as Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” starts blaring. He returns to the camera, which snaps him and Ronan at a furious pace.

It’s their first joint cover shoot. He’s wearing a shimmery striped shirt with high-waist trousers; she’s rocking a shirtdress, fishnet stockings, and clear stilettos. He keeps cracking her up; she musses his hair with doting affection. During a break that follows, he wanders, gripping a paper bag stuffed with assorted bagels — from Tompkins Square Bagels, which Chalamet, a lifelong New Yorker, insists are the best in the city — and offering one to anyone in his path. He sings and dances — very Elio-in-the-town-square-like — to Bob Dylan’s “Tombstone Blues.” He creeps behind a distracted Ronan before spooking her with a yelp. “I didn’t even know you were there!” she exclaims, reddening from the fright but with a smile so lovingly at ease, you sense she’s used to the prank.

They’ve known each other, after all, for some time. About three years ago, Ronan, now 25, and Chalamet, 23, met filming Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig’s solo directorial debut, in which Ronan’s irrepressible heroine (briefly) romances Chalamet’s douchey amateur musician. They reunited with Gerwig last year, on the heels of Lady Bird’s Oscar-nominated success, for a bigger undertaking: a remake of the oft-remade Little Women (Dec. 25). Ronan and Chalamet slipped into the roles of tomboyish Jo March and buoyant Theodore “Laurie” Laurence, best friends who ultimately break each other’s hearts. Their courtship ranks among American culture’s oldest tales of unrequited love — made indelible by Katharine Hepburn and Douglass Montgomery, Winona Ryder and Christian Bale, and so many others — yet finds, in the hands of two of the most compelling actors of their generation, galvanizing new life.

That goes, in fact, for the whole of Gerwig’s Little Women. Her version certainly contains the snow-globe coziness of treasured adaptations past, but also carries a fizzy emotional authenticity and attention to detail. The film is remarkably lived-in, too: This take on Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel, which follows Jo and her three sisters pre– and post–American Civil War, feels plucked straight from the text in the best way, with siblings fighting like siblings, love and loss and hope and pain vividly experienced on screen.

Ronan and Chalamet’s charming big sister–little brother dynamic is not unlike the one that Jo and Laurie share in Little Women. Watch the actors play off one another, and the film’s tender realism clarifies itself: Their on-camera intimacy is just as palpable behind the scenes. Indeed, after shooting Lady Bird for a few weeks, the pair hung out regularly over the next year, making the awards-circuit rounds and scoring lead-acting Oscar nominations — Ronan for Lady Bird, Chalamet for Call Me by Your Name — before swiftly signing on to Little Women. In advance of filming in Concord, Mass. (the actual setting of the book), Gerwig and producer Amy Pascal gathered the large production’s cast and crew for rehearsals at a house just outside the town. For Ronan and Chalamet, the contrast between this and their early Lady Bird days was immense. “I felt very prideful… about how big it had gotten, how many people were there,” Chalamet recounts. “On Lady Bird it was, like, 25 people hanging out in a house!”

They fell back into each other’s rhythms instantly. “He keeps me on my toes — I’m never quite sure what he’s going to do next,” Ronan says. “That only progressed more and grew more. It helped that we do have a very natural rapport with each other…. These two characters physically need to be very comfortable with one another. They’re literally intertwined for half the film.” Chalamet adds: “In the least clichéd way possible, it really doesn’t feel like [I’m] acting sometimes [with her].”

Chalamet credits Gerwig, too, for establishing a playful, comfortable atmosphere. He thinks back to his first day of rehearsal: He reunited with Ronan. He introduced himself to Emma Watson (who plays the eldest March sister, Meg). He was guided into a third-floor conference room of a “random building” where, “all of a sudden, there was a full dance class going on.” He recalls fondly: “Everyone breaks down and becomes a little kid. This job is so trippy in that regard — you want to be serious, you want to be professional, and then it’s almost best when you’re able to be 12 years old. When it’s someone you’re actually friends with, it makes it easier.”

Ronan smirks, gearing up for a jab: “We’re not friends!” Delighted, Chalamet keeps the bit going. “We’re not friends,” he says, solemnly. For once, they’re not very convincing.

Greta Gerwig doesn’t remember a time before she knew Jo March. “[Little Women] was very much part of who I always was,” the writer-director, 36, says. “It was something my mother read to me when I was growing up. It’s been with me for a very long time.”

She joined Sony Pictures’ new Little Women adaptation when she was hired to write the script in 2016. Once Lady Bird bowed the next year, she emerged as a candidate to direct the film. “Greta had a very specific, energized, kind of punk-rock, Shakespearean take on this story,” Pascal says. “She came in and had a meeting with all of us and said, ‘I know this has been done before, but nobody can do it but me.’” She got the gig.

In her approach, Gerwig drew on her lifelong relationship with Little Women; beyond childhood, she discovered new, complex layers to the novel, and in turn to Alcott’s legacy. “As a girl, my heroine was Jo March, and as a grown lady, my heroine is Louisa May Alcott,” she says. It’s perhaps why Gerwig’s Little Women feels like the most adult — and modern — version of the story that’s reached the screen to date. The movie begins with the March sisters in adulthood — typically where the narrative’s second half begins — and unfolds like a memory play, shifting back and forth between that present-day frame and extended flashbacks to the childhood scenes etched in the American literary canon.

In that, Gerwig finds fascinating, fresh areas of exploration regarding women’s lives: the choices society forces them to make, the beauty and struggles of artistic pursuit, the consequences of rebellion. Jo’s journey as a writer anchors Gerwig’s direction; tempestuous Amy (Florence Pugh) gets more of a spotlight as she matures as a painter (and Laurie’s eventual wife); and Meg is realized with newfound nuance: “We felt it was important to show Meg juggling all her roles — a mother, a wife, a sister — whilst also celebrating her dreams, despite them being different to those of her sisters,” says Watson. But Gerwig doesn’t see herself as reinventing the wheel. “A lot of the lines in the film are taken right from the book,” she explains. “When Amy says, ‘I want to be great or nothing’ — she says that in the book! I don’t think we remember that, but she does say it.” Gerwig also loves one line spoken by the sisters’ mother, Marmee (Laura Dern), also revived in this version: “I’m angry almost every single day.”

Gerwig compiled a “bible” filled with cultural references: to Whistler tableaux of family life, to David Bowie–Jean Seberg hairdos that inspire the look of Jo’s mid-film cut, to Alcott family letters. “I wanted it to be footnote-able,” Gerwig says. “I wanted to point to it and say, ‘This is where this is from.’” She considers Alcott’s text sacred: “I wanted to treat the text as something that could be made fresh by great acting.”

Beyond those charged but less quoted Little Women lines are its famous ones — throw-pillow staples like Jo’s “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” that no adaptation is complete without. The actors rehearsed these “almost like a song,” pushing to move through them with a rapid musicality. “We [read] the book out loud,” says Dern. Gerwig expected the script’s words to be memorized precisely. “I knew I wanted them to get this cadence that felt sparkly and slightly irreverent,” she says. “I wanted to make them move at the speed of light.”

She poured the same love into iconic scenes, like Jo and Laurie’s ebullient dance that follows their first meeting. Here it goes on longer — and more vibrantly — than in any previous iteration. (Ronan says they filmed it at 3 a.m., to boot, adding, “We must have done it, like, 30 times.”) Then there’s the devastating moment when Laurie asks Jo to marry him and she rejects his proposal. Gerwig tasked the two actors to unleash here. “Emotions just bubble over,” Ronan says. “[Greta] just let us go with it, wherever it went, from take to take. What I loved about that scene is that every take would be different emotionally. It didn’t have the same trajectory.

“The two of us, it’s a relationship I have with no other director,” Ronan continues. “She makes me feel like I can try anything.”

As Ronan and Chalamet emerge from their photo-studio dressing area in impossibly chic new ensembles — she donning a form-fitting knit sweater, he a silky, ruffled top — their creative energy fills the space. They try out different poses, debating concepts and ideas with each other on the fly; at one point he wraps his arms around her waist, and she quips to no one in particular, “We’re expecting our first.” Camera snap.

They’re modeling a new brand of movie stardom — pursuing projects with a point of view, adamantly being themselves in the public eye, subverting gender norms. Their androgynous fashion performance here reflects their wardrobe shake-ups in Little Women: Gerwig and Oscar-winning costumer Jacqueline Durran (Anna Karenina) had the two actors swapping clothes throughout filming, to reinforce the masculine-feminine fluidity between Jo and Laurie. “They are two halves,” as Pascal puts it. “These are really bold characters that are really different than you’ve seen them before.”

And just as Gerwig expressed a need to direct Little Women, Ronan knew in her bones she needed to play Jo. She’d first encountered the story via the 1994 film when she was 11, and later read the book, feeling an immediate kinship with the young woman she’d come to portray. “When Louisa describes Jo, it felt like someone describing me physically: sort of gangly and stubborn and very straightforward, and went for what she wanted.” At an event for Lady Bird, she — in a very Jo kind of way — just “went at it” by approaching Gerwig. “I said, ‘So I want to be in Little Women, but only if I’m playing Jo.’” (Chalamet, for his part, was asked by Gerwig, “Hey, want to do another movie?” He responded: “Yes. Yes, please.”)

Over months of living in Concord with her castmates, Ronan discovered new depths within herself: “Jo’s ethos is ‘Everything everyone else is doing, I’m going to do the opposite.’ [I had] to try things that I’d never tried before. Be a bit messier with a performance.” Gerwig set up etiquette lessons for the cast; whatever the instructor said (“Don’t shake hands! Don’t gesticulate with your arms!”), Ronan made sure to ignore it. She speaks now of this as freeing, even transformative. “I felt like I had tapped into something I’d never gotten the opportunity to tap into before, or I just didn’t have the guts to tap into myself,” she says. “Finding that was just amazing.”

Shortly after wrapping Little Women, she filmed Wes Anderson’s next film, The French Dispatch — marking her third time costarring with Chalamet, who plays a central role. As for now? Ronan is taking a little break. “I’ll wait for the right thing to come along,” she says. “It’s lovely to be in a position at this moment where I can wait for the absolute right thing.” Same goes for Chalamet — he shot Netflix’s The King (out Oct. 11) right before Little Women and just completed production on Denis Villeneuve’s Dune adaptation. “It’s the first time in almost two years I’ve gotten a breath, so I’m savoring it.”

It’s been a long day. They’re back in comfy clothes; Ronan is taking a late lunch. It feels like both actors — as another whirlwind of acclaim and press and romance-shipping awaits — are at a kind of peace, exhausted but satisfyingly so. Little Women is the biggest movie either has done to date; more attention, as they inhabit such revered characters, is sure to follow. “I just haven’t thought about it that way,” Ronan admits. “Maybe because it’s just Greta — even though it’s on a much bigger scale, she wanted it to feel like Lady Bird.”

Ronan understands the timeless power of Little Women, of course: “It’s as important to tell Little Women right now as it would be at any point in our lifetime.” She points to this pop culture climate of “celebrating female friendships and sisterhood,” and continues, “It’s a story that’s full of love. That will always be relevant.”

She turns toward Chalamet, and you realize the love they brought to Alcott’s classic is what first blossomed between them on Lady Bird. “I love that in Lady Bird, you broke my heart,” she says to him softly. “In Little Women, I got to break your heart.” (Chalamet, ever the goofball, finds an obvious opening: “Yes, that’s true. Then I married your sister. Ha, ha, ha!”)

If this all sounds a little idyllic, well, neither actor — nor Gerwig, nor Pascal, nor the rest of the cast — can do much to convince you otherwise. Shifting back to Little Women’s timelessness, and reflecting on Ronan’s comments about it, Chalamet says, “I don’t know how to add to that.” Instead he turns back to his costar, his expression suddenly sincere, filled with gratitude. “But if I can add one little dose of information,” he says with a nervous laugh. “And not just because she’s sitting next to me.” He credits Ronan with bringing that “timeless energy.” He says “thank God” they were able to make the movie. “It’s so rare with Saoirse — I’m so f—ing grateful to get to work with her,” he says. “Whatever book I write for myself when I’m older, to look back on —” He stops himself. “Well, this is a bigger conversation.”

But Ronan, chuckling, doesn’t let him off the hook. “Will I have, like, a chapter?” And Chalamet laughs — another opening, another chance to act with his greatest scene partner, to see what journey of creation and discovery they’ll go on next. “A chapter of Saoirse,” he says.

At this rate, one chapter won’t suffice.

#timmy #timothee chalamet #saoirse ronan #little women

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Cheltenham Family Civil Mediation Services Cheltenham Gloucestershire.

Winston Family Arbitration Solution.

Content

Other Solutions

Monetary Arbitration.

Watch These 2 Video Clips That Explain Household Mediation In Much More Detail

Uks Leading Arbitration Chambers.

Gives secret information as well as guidance for those taking into consideration therapy. You can browse on the website to discover a neighborhood registered counsellor. If it's not feasible for you to see a lawyer, consider getting some help from an organisation that can offer you some advice absolutely free, such as Rights of Females or People Guidance. as well as obligations of a parent-- for more information see the Gingerbread factsheet Adult responsibility. When you have actually talked about with the lawyer what your choices are and also what choice a court could make in your situations, you will require to give them clear instructions on exactly how you want to continue. The amount of sessions you need will certainly rely on the issues you require to settle, but between three and five is the average.

Do most cases settle at mediation?

Of the remaining 20%, probably half of those settle within the next couple of weeks, based on the progress made in Mediation; and of the other 10%, probably half of those will eventually settle prior to trial.

He spent a week assisting a family members fix a long-standing feud in between brothers. It was a fantastic success, as well as brought about an online appearance on The Richard as well as Judy Program for Martin and also the brothers, discussing how arbitration had benefited them. As one of the few male moderators, Martin has found out that some men can have a critical view concerning just how well the lawful system offers them.

Various Other Solutions

Nevertheless, mediation is not the only method of avoiding court process. Solicitors can supply accessibility to joint regulation as one more, albeit fairly brand-new, method of discussing an arrangement without the demand to participate in court. If you would like assistance in mediation or advice on any one of the issues described above our household regulation group would certainly be thrilled to aid. The moderator will give you information regarding the separation and also splitting up process but will not give you lawful guidance. You will be motivated to have advice from separate solicitors on your proposed arrangement before it is settled. Occasionally, it can assist to have your solicitors existing or at the end of the telephone throughout an arbitration session.

It will certainly provide a refuge for you as well as your ex to try and work out your remedies for the way ahead and also, if you have children, this might be actually practical.

First, it is usually quicker as well as less costly than making use of a solicitor or going to Court.

There are a number of reasons that household arbitration may be an excellent way to arrange things out.

We have streamlined points in the guide to give you an idea of just how the legislation puts on you if you are a young worker.

It will be much easier to handle parenting in the years ahead if you have prevented having a very aggressive split.

By concurring whatever in advance, you will decrease the chance of undue stress as well as parental conflict. Can examine your eligibility for legal aid and also signpost to regional resources helpful.

Economic Arbitration.

If you are having problem getting to contract over either kid living plans or funds, then the clever move is to start with divorce mediation, through a recognized family moderator. Price-- arbitration is far less costly than advising solicitors within the court process.

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In pics: night patrol in Changchun.

Posted: Sun, 10 Jan 2021 00:01:00 GMT [source]

Keep my various other moms and dad upgraded regarding my demands as well as what is occurring for me. Attempt to have good interaction with my various other moms and dad due to the fact that it will certainly help me. I can have a relationship with the partner of my other moms and dad without this transforming my love for you. Household Matters supplies kid assessment in Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, Lincolnshire and also the Humber. Household Issues' child experts have professional training and also extensive experience around. A structured parenting plan will certainly begin with you outlining your purposes and hopes before moving right into the information.

See These 2 Video Clips That Explain Household Arbitration In Much More Detail

unchallenged, it should take in between three to four months from sending out in the divorce request, to the pronouncement of your Mandate Nisi. What normally occurs in the daytime drama and movies is a warmed exchange, which leads to a dramatic court room fight. However, most of couples generally involve an arrangement after roughly two or three sessions.

He's eager to place them right on this, but believes it is essential to approve peoples' sights prior to you can expect them to recognize the views of others. As well as this procedure helpful individuals value each others' perspective, Martin really feels, is the key to successful mediation. Martin has a grown-up little girl as well as this has given him a good understanding of the importance of the dads' function as well as of the highs and lows of dealing with teenagers.

Uks Leading Mediation Chambers.

Don't claim negative things about my other parent, specifically if I can listen to. Remember I can often hear your discussions or see your social networks comments.

The government is dedicated to arbitration as a way of dealing with household conflicts. The simultaneous decrease in legal aid has driven several separating couples to represent themselves in court as well as the surge in litigants-in-person has contributed greatly to the cost as well as time involved in court process. However, https://devon.ukfamilymediationservice.co.uk/ does depend on the dedication of both events if it is to work.

Arbitration Will Certainly Not Work Because I Do Not Wish To Compromise.

At the first meeting an evaluation will certainly be embarked on to see whether you are eligible for Legal Aid and also the prices will certainly be clarified before you proceed. Do not use my partnership with my various other parent against me, or them. Keep in mind that I don't anticipate you or my other moms and dad to be perfect, so I don't desire you to anticipate my other parent to be perfect either. Work out in between you and my other parent who is responsible for the additional points I require, such as new institution footwear and uniform, school trips, supper money and also the expense of my hobbies or after institution activities. Be open to alter, be flexible and also compromise when agreeing arrangements for me. Remember it is ok for me to love and also have a connection with my other moms and dad.

Mediation may not be feasible as a result of functional problems, such as not being able to go to as a result of where you live, or due to an impairment. If you're separating or have recently divided you will require to consider your financial resources, your home and any kind of property you have or financial obligations you have. The Gingerbread factsheet Caring for your emotional health and wellness will certainly offer you suggestions on exactly how to enter better form to make those crucial decisions. If you have been through a hard split or an emotionally challenging or stressful time, taking actions to care for on your own as well as utilizing the aid that's readily available will help you make much better decisions. Suggestions Now has a guide to making use of mediation complying with separation, which contains details regarding costs.

Wish To Know Even More Concerning Mediation Or Locate A Conciliator Near You?

Your divorce mediator will certainly assist you to prepare economic statements and collect the supporting files and declarations. They will after that talk about the very best method to separate these to get to a monetary negotiation. You might still call for the recommendations from a solicitor, as well as we would certainly constantly suggest this. For many who select the lawful path with solicitors, they almost always end up speaking with a household conciliator, especially where agreement is not gotten to. The factor being, is that you will certainly require to attempt arbitration, prior to a court will certainly think about hearing your instance.

Divorce arbitration will aid you as well as your ex-spouse to go over the vital problems regarding where the children live, contact setups and financial backing. It will certainly likewise help you to reach contracts about just how you split the possessions and obligations from your marriage.

You as well as your ex will certainly be able to increase things that are necessary to you and the arbitrator can aid develop a listing of topics to speak via. Info won't be shared with any individual else without your authorization (unless as an example, there's a protecting danger or a criminal offense is divulged). You require to apply for a 'decree absolute' to finalise your separation.

Can you change your mind after mediation?

Usually, two people enter into a divorce settlement after attending a mediation, or after negotiations between their attorneys. If a person changes his or her mind before he or she signs the settlement agreement, the negotiations will simply resume again.

You'll need to wait 6 weeks and also 1 day from the day of your decree nisi. With over you can find more information on uk family mediation service's divorce mediation durham here. experience as a family mediator, Martin has aided hundreds of people get to agreements concerning their youngsters and finances. He has phenomenal understanding of separation and splitting up, their affect on individuals' lives, and also just how finest to manage them. Martin has worked in arbitration solutions in South Essex, East London, Central London and Hertfordshire. In addition to divorce as well as splitting up he has mediated in conflicts concerning Unique Educational Demands, disability discrimination, as well as between parents and also their adolescent kids. In 2005 Martin was offered the opportunity to test his mediation skills in a Channel 4 reality TV program, Families at War.

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