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areweevercameraready · 11 months

Text

snippet two :>

A/N: me: oh no, AO3 is getting DDoS'ed :( and i just finished a chapter of beliefs so I can post another chapter! damn me: me: wait i can post another human chapter

anyways, please stay off AO3 for the time being and here's a post with more information, but they're facing extreme server overloading and opening AO3 pages makes it harder apparently. i don't know, i'm a communicator, not a programmer, so i'm just passing along what i know.

anywho! here's another snippet of the human au i'd been writing. if you would like to read the first part, here is the first snippet, which also has some more background on the au. check here for descriptions of the human au.

this is likely to be the last of this big story i'll be posting. i might post some of the oneshots i have in this au, as i have a few that are sorta unrelated to the plot that i'm comfortable with posting, but...well. we'll see. i finished chapter 13 of more than beliefs so i've 1) begun writing chapter 14 finally and 2) might post chapter 11 soon :D not having anything to do with my life right now is good for catching up on sleep debt and writing fanfiction! yipee!

i hope you enjoy!

Words: 7,265

WARNINGS: having a panic attack and being sad, not much more i don't think but if there is, let me know and i'll make note of it!

(in lieu of a diving image, please take this human au meme LOL)

“So. Bartender. Your name’s Eric, right? That’s what Marl’ said.”

“Mhm,” Eric hummed.

“Thanks for driving them home. Marlowe would’ve flipped tomorrow if he woke up and realized he’d left the car somewhere else. He’s gonna flip either way, though, since the idiot teaches tomorrow morning,” David snickered a little, leaning against the car door in a casual manner.

At the very least, the flippance was making it more evident that David wasn’t, like. Mad at him. Or something. Eric nodded again before remembering that David was now driving. “Uh. Yeah. Would have been a kinda problem.”

“Mm,” David hummed. After a few beats of silence, he added. “You got anything to do tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? Why was he asking? “I, uh, have work at four. At the bar. Other than that, no,” because truthfully, he was only scheduled five days a week at the restaurant.

He tried to get his shifts at the restaurant and his shifts at the bar to not line up, but five days a week at both jobs meant there wasn’t ever a chance of that happening. When he did need a full day off, though, for parent-teacher conferences especially now that Gavin was going to school, he managed to get the exact days precisely. Which was probably because he was so punctual and dependable. Which was what he tried to be. But sometimes, he worried that wouldn’t be enough, so he always clocked the days he’d need two months in advance.

Tomorrow was just a lucky day though, to just have one job and not both. Often they stacked. Sometimes they didn’t.

“Wanna meet up for lunch?” David’s proposition cut through Eric’s tangential thoughts.

He turned to David again now, a slight frown on his lips, before asking, “For lunch?” as if he hadn’t heard properly.

David nodded. “Yep. My treat, for bringing my boys home safe,” he shot Eric another grin. “Also you like, haven’t at all told me where the fuck to go. I’m assuming it’s closer to downtown but unless you just wanna keep driving in circles….”

Fuck. Eric looked out the window for real now, trying to figure out where they were. It was the highway going into town. “You’re going to want to take the Concord exit,” he said.

“Okay,” David said. “But, yeah. Lunch.”

“Lunch,” Eric repeated, quickly averting his eyes back to the dashboard. “You and me and lunch?”

He didn’t really want to look directly at David, but just in case David like. Grabbed him. Or something. Eric wanted to see him in his peripheral. He saw David shrug.

“I mean, yeah. You ever been to Lucy’s on Main? Such a great diner, I used to go with an old girlfriend every night almost,” David pulled off the exit.

“Right. And then left at the, uh….fourth light.”

“Gotcha. Lunch. At Lucy’s on Main?”

Lucy’s on Main wasn’t the fanciest place, but Eric had only been once, and that was for Gavin’s fourth birthday. He liked their theming, even though it wasn’t an actual children’s diner or anything, and Eric was never one to deny his brother when he asked for something achievable.

If he could, he’d get Gavin the world. Snatch it right out of God’s hand

Going there with a stranger, though….if David wasn’t dating like, at least two other people, Eric would be worried this was a flirt attempt. And he wasn’t really in the mood to be romantic. He kinda wanted therapy first? And he hadn’t thought about romance in a while, not since his boyfriend in high school. Now he was an adult with responsibilities, he couldn’t just ditch school and smoke weed by the train station with Schmidt.

This was just some guy being thankful, though, right? And he wasn’t doing anything tomorrow….and the idea of food, especially free food, was pretty enticing. A guaranteed meal would be nice. And at this point, he didn’t think this was going to be a trap. He knew Lucy’s on Main. He wasn’t...this was awkward, but it wasn’t like he was going to get mugged or anything.

The silence dragged, just a bit, and David sighed. “If you wanna say no, you can. I just know this’ probably way outta your ways, and you seem like you’re not gonna kill me and steal my car, so it’d be nice to hang out once and say thanks.” David sounded tired, too.

Though that explanation was pretty straight forward. Eric nodded slowly in something like understanding. If David was worried Eric was going to be mugging him, and Eric was worried that David was going to be mugging him….well, he could just be saying this to get his guard down. Eric knew he consistently looked like his guard was up, more often willing to fight than he wasn’t, but maybe that was off-putting here. Maybe he was the scary one, here.

Ah, the mom friend override.

“No, I, uh. That’d be cool,” Eric said, then cleared his throat and continued. “Thanks for the offer. Would noon work?”

“Yeah, sure,” David smiled as he took the turn onto Concord Avenue. “Meet you there?”

“Sure,” Eric said. “You can pull over anywhere on this block.”

He gestured out the window. His building was maybe two blocks down, but, well. He didn’t want to take this dude all the way to his apartment.

Did he?

No, no he didn’t. Also, his days of one night stands were like, two years long gone. Eric wasn’t about to bring a whole adult (WITH TWO BOYFRIENDS, MIND YOU, AT LEAST TWO) to his tiny apartment at almost four in the morning with his kid brother sleeping in the same bedroom. Like, sure as fuck that wasn’t happening. Regardless of how pretty David looked in the moonlight.

Yeah, he was tired as fuck if he was just going to start mentally waxing poetic about how pretty these boys were. Eric looked around at the car, out the window, then back at David. Who was watching him with a smile ever so slight, almost knowing, almost cocky.

“What, you want a goodnight’s kiss too?” he joked.

Eric snorted, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m just….” Confused.

This was all so much, in one night.

He had a hundred fuckin’ dollars in his pocket?

And David’s boyfriend’s phone number? This dude just drove him home, too, for nothing, and was going to take him out to lunch tomorrow?

“This’ a lot more social interaction in one day than I get most months,” Eric joked, almost confessed really, and shrugged. “It’s also four in the morning.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” David looked at the clock and pulled a face, as if he’d just noticed the time.

Wouldn’t that be a riot? What the fuck was he doing awake, even? Eric snorted, hiding his eyes behind a hand as he laughed. “Stop no, it’s too-it’s too early for this,” he said between laughs as David began to chuckle a little himself.

“Damn right. You head home, get to bed, and make sure you’re up at at LEAST noon!” David waved at Eric as he got out of the car, into the night air.

It nipped at his nose, much colder than he thought it’d be. Granted, he thought he’d still be warm from the bar, too. Eric turned around, waving at David as he whipped a completely not-legal U-turn in the middle of the road, then headed back where he came. It looked like David was going to wait until Eric got into a building, which was kind of nice of him, but once Eric stood still and waved, he hit the reverse. Which was also fair. And also part of Eric’s plan.

He didn’t exactly….Now okay, tomorrow morning this was all going to register as flirting. Eric was going to take off his shirts and lay down in his bed and watch Gavin sleep for maybe fifteen minutes before passing out himself out of just exhaustion while wearing his bartending slacks and without actually being beneath his pillows. He was going to not think about the implications behind the three men’s actions until tomorrow morning, while making breakfast, and he was going to be quiet enough in thought for Gavin to ask if he’d done something wrong while they were on their drive to school.

“No, Gav, you’re fine. Peachy, actually, sweet pea,” Eric said, while he and Gavin waited at a stop light.

Gavin was supposed to hold the motorcycle’s safety restraints while they drove, but more often than not he ended up holding Eric. He had his own safety jacket and belt buckles, which Eric installed as soon as he found out they were a thing. He’d gotten the bike before he’d gotten Gavin, and he wasn’t giving the bike away.

“What’re you sad about?” the kid asked.

The light was still red, so Eric leaned one arm back and gave Gavin one of their bike hugs. Positioning was always awful, but Gavin knew the drill, so he snuggled his helmeted head beneath Eric’s arm for a moment and hugged him tighter.

Now, though, how to like. Explain this to the four year old.

“A friend asked to go to lunch together today,” was what Eric landed on.

Gavin gasped, excitement filling his voice in a way that almost made Eric feel bad. “A friend?! Yay!”

“Yeah, a friend. I’ve got those,” Eric joked.

“Daddy’s got one friend,” Gavin said with his own snicker, and Eric laughed, too.

“Daddy’s got more than one friend,” he said, and for a moment, thinking about the phone number written on the bill at home, he meant it.

Gavin seemed happy with that explanation and with those jokes, and Eric was as happy as he’d let himself be. He dropped Gavin off and promised to pick him up later, told him to have a good day, that he loved him.

Kid’s school got out at 1:38, which would be a fair reason to leave lunch, if it got like. Unbearably awkward. Which was a real possibility, if you asked Eric. Wasn’t last night awkward enough? This dude really saw Eric at his normal messiest states at four in the morning and decided that the best decision was to spend even more time with him. Granted, he was in his pajamas last night, and he seemed pretty out of it, too. It might be nice to have a real conversation outside of being ground into dust levels of tired.

Also, it wasn’t Eric’s worst, and he thought he’d held it together pretty well considering the outlandish circumstances. In nearly any other case, he would have gone running for the hills at the mention of having lunch alone together with a stranger, or even being handed a bill with a fucking phone number on it. He’d been hit on at the bar before; everyone likes the stoic type bartender, until he starts rejecting advances. Then he gets the drink thrown on him and slurs thrown his way, which like, really? The owner’s queer and they think it’s going to be okay to say slurs? Idiots. Eric knew it was a situation better than that kind of shit, but he didn’t know what made him say yes to these advances. Something about the genuine-ness of it all, maybe.

And these like. Were definitely advances. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. He didn’t process it fully last night, but now that the lunch date was starring him in the face, he could see it for what it was: a date.

Three people, though. That was three extra people to disappoint. And, if he really thought about it, Eric didn’t know if he could, like….handle that. On an emotional level but also on an anxiety level.

Still, to not show up to lunch and flake would be rude, and he may be a coward but he was anything but rude.

Eric took some time between dropping off Gavin and heading to the date to prepare. He had tried while putting his hair up, a looser ponytail rather than the pinned bun he had for either of his jobs. Usually, he’d’ve preferred to keep it down, but. Well. It got everywhere. It was kinda scraggly, probably 90% split ends. Good to have it out of the way.

He threw on a quick t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and his regular leather jacket. If this was really just lunch, then it was a one and done kind of situation. Not much else for him to do, other than lay down and try to nap for an hour before heading out.

Lucy’s on Main was fairly crowded for lunch on a weekday, in Eric’s opinion. People were waiting outside when he got there. And he didn’t see David waiting amongst them, so he put his own name down for a table and went to go stand outside. There was a couple sitting on the bus stop bench, though. Smoking. It’d been a few years since he managed to kick his nicotine addiction, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the scent of smoke anymore, so after a moment of taking in the wind and hyping himself up to talk to a stranger, a whole ass stranger, he went back in.

And that was when he heard a “YO! ERIC!”

Eric jumped, turning around towards the inside of the diner. Most of the tables were filled, and one had a guy with his arms up, waving him down. Literally. Waving him down.

“HEY!” David called out.

Eric saw him crack a smile as he recognized him, as Eric waved back just a little. They were turning heads a bit. Just a bit.

He told the host that he was with “that guy” and made his way over, sliding into the seat opposite David. And he tried to kind of avoid looking at him, because being yelled at across a public space was never something Eric was too fond of. As soon as he sat down, though, David waved in his face.

“‘Sup, Harley,” David said. “Nice bike.”

“Thanks.” Eric looked up, briefly, then froze. And looked up again.

David’s hair was down, though it’d been brushed and was pinned back with a bobby pin or two. He was wearing a puffy varsity jacket and a t-shirt underneath, the varsity jacket covered in patches that seemed to be hand-sewn on. There was a pin, too, on the jacket’s collar, with the inclusive rainbow. Cute. His glasses were cute, too, framing his face in a way that made his smile look a bit wider as he also looked over eric.

He….Well. In last night’s dark, he hadn’t really caught what David actually looked like. He was smaller than Eric but they had similar styles almost. There was something comforting casual about David’s posture, though, and in the way he leaned back against the booth’s seat.

Surrounded by hot men. Eric turned away as the waitress came over, hoping he wasn’t blushing as much as he thought he was, and ordered himself a plate of fries. Before she left, David interrupted.

“Nah, you can order more, dude. I’m paying,” he reached over and motioned towards the waitress. “Get a milkshake at least, Lucy’s shakes’re the fucking best.”

Now, Eric didn’t really want to be wasting someone else’s money, and the plate of fries was definitely more than he’d been planning on having today. But David was watching him. And Eric couldn’t really say no. Not when he was being watched like this. A burger did sound good, too, but….

God, he didn’t want to make David spend money on him. Eric stuffed his hands into his pockets slowly, playing with the edge of his phone’s case. “Can I, uh. Can I get a chocolate shake, too?” he asked.

“M’kay,” the waitress said with a knowing smile.

“And make his fries the bigger size! I’ll steal some,” David grinned at the waitress, who chuckled at his antics but wrote down the change.

And then she left.

Eric leaned back in the seat, and he didn’t really know what to feel. In a weird way, it was good that David just started to converse, then and there.

“Like I said, cool bike. What kind is it?” he said, as if he knew of it.

“Uh,” oh, jeez, the bike. “It’s a 2005 Night Train.”

“Sheesh, a Night Train! And she’s still running? Do you do your own maintenance?”

“I, uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do. Maintenance and modifications.”

And that got him talking. Which, like. Was hard. On standard, getting him to converse was hard. But then David mentioned his old bike, how he used to have a 2002 Softail Deuce, how he always found it hard to maintain. Well, ‘course it’s hard to maintain if you don’t keep checking on it, especially after not riding it for a bit. Eric installed the second seat and had to buy her new brakes, just in case and to help with smoother rides.

He talked about how he kept his parts and mechanical tools in a case in his apartment. Usually he’d keep it stuffed under the coffee table, better than leaving it out in the garage.

David said it was cool, that he knew enough to maintain the bike himself. Yeah, Eric just liked keeping up with it and making sure he knew enough about it. He didn’t know any mechanics in the area well enough to trust them to actually take care of it as well as he could. Plus, if anything went wrong, he’d know what the situation was. He liked knowing that.

It was nice, to talk to someone about these things. Eric didn’t notice his tension easing up with David. It was almost natural.

David mentioned having a bike. What did he do with it? He had to get rid of it, he didn’t take good enough care of it. Sold it to someone before he moved out here. He’s originally from Michigan but relocated for work, since it’s better to be near a lot of galleries. Selling the bike helped pay for life after college.

What did he work in? Art. He worked most in oils, something like a modern impressionist kind of painting. The big one was sculpting. He liked to chisel, but marble was kind of hard to come by. He’d gotten into wood carving, though, since the house was nearby a forest. He’d take down a tree somewhere on their property, replant a few saplings, then bring it in pieces into his workshop to carve. It was in the basement, but they’d set up a ventilation system well enough. He did like painting realism sometimes, as a hobby, though.

Eric didn’t know anything about art. He would love to see his works, one day.

Well you could swing by. I don’t think anyone’d be home to mind. If you wanna hang out some more.

“Who’s home?” Eric asked then, almost confused.

David blinked at him a few times, trying to process what was confusing, before realization entered his face and he snapped his fingers. “Shit, yeah. I’m supposed to….yeah. So, uh. Me and the boys wanted to get to know you more. ‘S why Princey and Marl’ were at your bar.”

“Oh.” What? Who the fuck are the boys? “Who’re the boys?”

“You’re gay, right? Just want to clear that up, ‘cause this is about to be so fuckin’ awkward if you’re straight.” David sipped his milkshake expectantly while Eric made a face, and before Eric even answered, David snickered. “Sorry, dumb question, you don’t need to be gay to like, get this. I dunno if anyone told you directly, but Phillip and Marlowe and I, and Cadence, and another dude you haven’t met named Draco, we’re all in a relationship. Poly, gay, all that. We’re all in a relationship.

“And like, we aren’t gonna reel you into a relationship with all of us. Cadence just said you were nice, so’d Marlowe and Phillip,” David put his hands up—Eric’s face must have been some kind of slack jawed, but he was more trying to decipher what David was saying than paying attention to himself. “We thought it’d be cool to meet you. Well. I thought it’d be cool. Like, as friends and stuff. And like, we move like a pack. I don’t wanna speak for the others on what they’re thinking, but I just wanted to make sure you knew like, this isn’t a date, not for me. But like, I dunno. You’ve got everyone’s interest now.

“So if you’re like, wondering why a bunch of randos’re meeting up with you out of nowhere, it’s because you seem cool and we all share one braincell that befriends people at the same time. We all wanna meet you. I dunno what everyone’s specific desires are past that, I just kinda wanna get to know you, but I think we could be friends. That’d be cool.” David leaned back, indicating the end of his explanation, and picked up his almost empty milkshake to sip from as Eric digested all of that new information.

“Oh. Okay,” Eric’s voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

Was that like getting stalked? Was he just getting stalked now, but a frat house of gay dudes? Was that what was happening? He didn’t know. His ears were kind of ringing a little as he tried to process that.

So he’d run into a gaggle of dudes who wanted to be his friend. All of them? They’d talked about him—of course they’d talked about him.

One of them was fucking famous? Eric didn’t know what being friends with a famous person was like, but he didn’t want cameras in his face all the time if that’s what it meant.

Was he even good enough for that? Eric wouldn’t have considered himself friendship material for any regular person, not to mention multiple people at once, one of whom was famous.

He had a lot of concerns, off the bat.

“It’s kinda a lot to explain. Mostly, we’re just gonna be annoying, since you seem cool and we wanna be friends. If that’s okay,” David said. “That okay?”

What would they want out of him? He didn’t have money. He barely had a personality, if you asked him. There wasn’t anything really to gain from being his friend.

Why the fuck were these people interested in him?

Eric barely heard him. He just. Starred. For a moment.

That was when Eric became acutely aware of where they were. Of who he was talking to. That this was...well, it was a casual conversation, but a proposition to come home. He had to—he checked his phone, it was 1:10, holy fuck. He had to pick up Gavin soon. Like, now even. He had to go.

He had to go.

He just had to.

“Okay. I,” what was he doing here, what did they want out of him? There was no way— “I need to go.”

David raised his eyebrows but said nothing of it. His smile faded. “Okay. Go ahead, I’m handling the bill,” his voice was a lot more gentle now, as if the fervor he’d spoken with earlier had been sapped out of his bones.

Eric almost missed it.

He’d been lulled into a false sense of security, out of talking about fucking motorcycles and art. He stood, one fast motion that is more abrupt than he should be, and turned down the hall. He could apologize. David seemed nice. So did Phillip. Marlowe. Cadence maybe even. It might be nice, to talk to some more people, to get to know them.

Gavin had said earlier that he had a friend. He could stick his neck out there. Reach out to people. He had a phone number. He could turn around and talk to David right now.

David had looked real sad when Eric left.

Instead, he walked down the hall and out the door. He tried his best to breathe evenly, because panic driving the bike was never smart, and in doing so he just. Swallowed. His feelings.

Eric took a big gulp of air, actually, and grabbed his bike’s helmet. Already, he was just zoning out. He was going to go pick up Gavin! Then, he was gonna make sure the kid was doing his homework. And then he had a shift at the bar.

What would they even say about Gavin?

He revved the bike’s engine and pulled out of the parking lot without looking back.

His brain was static empty by the time he pulled into the parking lot at Gavin’s school, a whole ten minutes early. He didn’t have to leave that fast. But he couldn’t just stay there. What would he do? Go back and talk to David? Face that kind of unknown? He...he couldn’t. He’d stormed out like something was wrong, and wouldn’t David be mad for that? He didn’t know him much anyways. He didn’t owe him anything, either.

If only he could convince the guilt weighing in his stomach the same thing.

When the school bell rang, Eric perked up, taking Gavin’s helmet out from where it gets hooked and clipped onto the back seat. He drummed his fingers against the top.

His kid came bursting out from around the portables, running around to where Eric usually parked. Gavin threw his arms up in the air when he saw Eric, so Eric threw his arms up as well. He climbed off the bike and squatted down, holding his arms open enough for Gavin to launch himself into a hug.

They did this just about every day and Eric didn’t see himself ever getting tired of it. Gavin snuggled his face against Eric’s shoulder and shouted “HI THIEF!”

“Hey, kiddo,” Eric said with a sigh. The nickname was a dour one, but it was hard to train Gavin out of it. He’d gotten upset about enough things, today, and he was waiting until they got home to do something about the rising panic he was literally just barely tamping down.

He helped Gavin onto the motorcycle’s seat, strapping him in while he asked how school had gone. It was a Thursday. Gavin had math tests on Thursday, which he loved. They were doing fifty in a minute with addition, which the teacher said Gavin was really good at. Better than reading time, since he was bad at focusing. The teacher suggested he get Gavin checked for reading disorders or attention disorders. But Eric didn’t have the money for something like that.

Still, it was nice hearing Gavin talk about how happy he was to finish the fifty. He was the first one done. “You’re such a smarty pants,” Eric joked, patting his hand on Gavin’s helmet once he got it strapped on.

“Mm,” Gavin frowned at that one, then shrugged. “Not really. I just like the numbers.”

“You’re good at the numbers, too,” Eric reminded him as he sat himself back down, too. “What homework do you have tonight?”

“Wait wait, but I wanted to know,” Gavin grabbed Eric’s sides, balling his hands up around him. “How did lunch go?”

Lunch.

Gavin was asking about. About how lunch went. Eric was really glad he wasn’t looking at him, because there’s no way he could have hidden how much his face fucking fell at the question.

“It, uh. Went alright.” Eric put his own helmet on, not turning around to see Gavin. “I’ve got work tonight, so I’m going to cook dinner when we get home, and you’ve gotta do your homework. Okay?”

He didn’t want to talk to his four year old brother, of all people, about that travesty of a date. It wasn’t even a date. It fucking felt like a date.

He didn’t want to hang out with anyone. He didn’t even want to have to talk to any of them, not if they were going to all pile up on him and what if anyone ever started taking offense to him? He didn’t want to join their group. And he probably wasn’t even good enough for it.

He didn’t want to think about how he’d walked out on David.

Shut the fuck up about it, Eric. You’ve gotta go for a bit of a drive. Then you get to panic about this.

“Okay,” Gavin’s voice was quiet, a little sad. Probably because Eric wasn’t answering his question. Usually Eric gave him an explanation before a nonanswer. But he didn’t need to. And Gavin wouldn’t understand. Eric could think of a thousand reasons why not to talk to Gavin about that.

“It’s fine,” Eric said, as if he could comfort Gavin with that harsh statement. And he revved his engine before he could hear Gavin’s response, if any.

The drive was quick. Some kinda force must have been on Eric’s side because every light was coming up green. He parked the bike in his unit’s garage and Gavin hopped off fast, beating Eric to the door, and disappeared inside.

Usually that was a surefire sign the kid was upset, but at the moment, Eric couldn’t really find it in himself to care. Nor fault him, really. Eric was on edge, was being pretty unreasonable.

On the flip side, he had to make dinner. It was 2 p.m. and he had to be at work at 4, so he had to leave at 3:30, and he had to make sure Gavin was doing homework. A conversation like this could take hours. He didn’t have that kind of time. And he’d have to understand himself why this was all happening. Why he was doing this. What was so terrifying.

Eric didn’t have the time nor the energy to confront that. So he wasn’t going to.

Quietly, he trudged into the kitchen, jumping when the door to the bedroom slams closed. Gavin, most likely. He usually did his homework in the kitchen, but, well…

Eric slung his jacket over one of the kitchen chairs and went to work cooking. It was always a tossup, leaving Gavin home alone. He was a smart kid. Eric told him not to touch the stove or the oven or touch any of the knives on their stand, and Gavin had never done anything like that. Eric also would punch in his phone number on the landline phone and colored in the “call” button with green sharpie. If anything happened, Gavin knew to just hit the green button. That’d call Eric, and he could always get home within ten minutes. If anything super bad happened, Gavin knew to hide in the closet. All of the neighbors on their floor had been asked, please, to call him if something happened to the building or his unit.

That was the best he could do, really. He didn’t have the money nor knew anyone well enough to let them watch Gavin. Once, he tried to leave Gavin with the neighbors, but he’d somehow escaped their apartment and gone back to Eric’s. The kid was attached, the neighbor had explained. And Eric didn’t really want anyone watching him in their apartment, when he wouldn’t be there.

Sometimes, the kid will do the dishes for him. Once, Eric was pretty sure Gavin cut his hand while trying to wash a knife, but Gavin said a bully got his arm caught on a door hinge in a fight. That was a specific enough lie that worried Eric that maybe both had happened. Poor kid had to deal with living with him, bullies on top of that?

He made pasta with some marinara sauce. It was a solid batch, and if Gavin didn’t finish it, then Eric would have some. He’d already eaten more than enough at lunch, though. And he was used to being hungry by now.

He stared at the cooking pasta with a blank expression.

Once dinner was ready, Eric checked the clock. Twenty minutes before he had to leave. Which was pretty standard for him, save for how he now had to go into the room where Gavin was hiding so he could change. He wasn’t about to go out in what he’d consider his nice clothes, to a bar where he could get thrown up on.

He stopped in front of the door. And took a breath.

“Dinner’s ready whenever you want it, Gav,” Eric said, voice soft as he also knocked on the door. “Can I come in? I’ve gotta get changed to go to work.”

“Sure,” came the soft reply.

Eric braced himself internally, pursing his lips a bit as he pushed open the door and peeked in. Gavin was curled up in his bed, backpack and shoes kicked off on the ground besides it. The blanket was pulled over his head, probably curled up into a ball under the sheets.

He could just throw off his clothes and change real fast. But Eric only got his shirt off before Gavin’s head popped out.

“Did your lunch make you sad?” he asked.

The question made Eric freeze. Part of him wanted to turn around, growl at the child to shut the fuck up and stop asking. It would be easier, to be cruel. But he could never...he didn’t want to be his parents, and when the kid was worried about him? That kind of idiot’d do that.

“A little,” Eric responded, trying to swallow the guilt that arose when he was reminded of how sad David had looked, how his smile had disappeared in the instant Eric stood up.

“Does Thief not have any more friends?”

Eric put on a black t-shirt and started taking off his jeans. “My name isn’t Thief, baby,” he tried to keep his tone level.

Gavin wilted a little. He hated it when Eric reminded him, but Eric hated that name, and it was going to be better to train Gavin out of it now rather than later. “Sorry, Daddy. But did your friend make you sad?”

He sighed. Persistent fucking kid.

Too good for Eric, always worried about him. Sometimes, Eric wondered if Gavin got that from him, too. Always just a little too worried for it to be healthy.

He heard Gavin flinch back into the sheets, so he turned back around. Gently, Eric scooped Gavin up, blankets and sheets and all, and kissed his forehead. “A little,” he answered. “He was a new friend. I don’t think he meant to make me sad.”

“Okay.” Gavin snuggled a little more into Eric’s arms, and he felt Gavin hold onto his shirt. “Did you make him sad?”

Heh. “A little. We were both a little sad,” Eric gave him a squeeze, rocking slowly. “It’s okay, though. Sometimes you make yourself sad. Sometimes other people get sad. Being sad is okay. It’s—”

“It’s about what you do after you’re sad,” Gavin finished. Probably excited he remembered it. Kid’s always been bad at focusing, anyway.

It’s something Eric’s told him before, quite a few times. He wished he could hide his panic and depression and honest despair from Gavin, but in a two room apartment? He didn’t want to leave the kid alone in the apartment, too. As little as he could. Gavin had seen him panic and Eric had pulled himself together to stop Gavin from worrying too much. The three year old kid had too big of a heart in him for Eric to keep making him sad, too. And now he was four.

“Yep, you’ve got it. Smart baby.” Eric lifted him as Gavin reached his arms up, giving him a tight hug around his neck and shoulders.

Gavin’s arm went around his head at that weird angle, where it was the only place where his arms could feasibly wrap around. “Are you gonna make it better?”

“I’m gonna try.”

That seemed to be good enough for Gavin, because he gave Eric a kiss on the forehead, too, and then made a motion to go down. So Eric set him back down on the bed, ruffled his hair, and went back to changing his pants.

“I set up dinner on the table, it’s noodles.” He always tried to get the ones that looked like sea shells, because Gavin thought they were fun. “After dinner, you can leave your plate on the kitchen counter and do homework at the table. I’ll be back before bed time, okay?”

Shift was supposed to be shorter today; he’d be off at 9, and it wasn’t like it was that long of a walk.

“Okay!” Gavin waved his hands. “Have fun! I love you!”

Eric, clothes changed and keys in hand, waved back. “I love you too!”

He closed the door to the apartment, locked it from the outside, and hurried down the stairs. “I’m gonna try,” he mumbled again, quiet to himself.

The phone number.

Eric still had the bill in his other pants’ pocket. He never took it out.

It’d been a while since he, like. Had friends. And had to socialize.

David likely told all of them that Eric had just walked out on him. He didn’t know what they thought of him.

But he had to try. Right?

At the very least, Phillip had seemed nice. Phillip had seemed like he knew what Eric’s anxiety looked like. And maybe that’d be….

Eric could try. There wasn’t a harm in that.

Work went smoothly, both works. No one went too crazy at the bar and Eric left when the next shift lead came, just in time to catch Gavin brushing his teeth before bed. He’d managed to tuck the kid in, clean the kitchen, and even managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time. When he woke up, he took Gavin to school, then immediately went to his second job. Things were going well and, when he dropped off Gavin, the kid had wished him good luck in calling his friend.

Eric held onto that until his lunch break at his other job. During lunch break, he went across the street to a coffee shop, ordered a dirty chai, and took his phone out. He’d taken a photo of the bill’s phone number, wasn’t about to wave a hundred dollar bill around in public, but the picture was good enough.

Here goes...well. Nothing, really. Everything. And nothing.

Just call the damn number.

His finger hit the call button before he could think any more about it, and he waited.

It took two rings for Phillip to pick up.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hi.”

That was when Eric realized he had no fucking idea what he was going to say. What, was he calling to say sorry? This was Phillip’s number, not David’s. Did he want to hang out with Phillip? What do adults do when they quote hang out unquote. He didn’t want to do anything that’d involve money too much, he wasn’t able to pay for a dinner or something. Did he even want to meet up with him, in person? And he had so many questions about the arrangement, of the what, five men in a relationship thing. Did all of them want to talk to him? Why?

“Oh, Eric. Hello! I ha-I hadn’t expected you to call,” Phillip laughed a little, a sound that eased the tension off his shoulders. “Are you...What did you want to ta-to talk about?”

His voice sounded light. That was good. He didn’t sound mad.

“I, uh. I just wanted to….”

There was a pause. So Eric just took another sip of his coffee and said, quickly, “Did you want to go to a museum? Or hang out or something?”

A museum.

Eric hadn’t been to a single museum in the whole fucking city.

What the fuck was he thinking.

Phillip must have either pitied him or was picking up what he was trying to suggest, because that was when he responded, “Oh! If you want to-to walk around and ta-talk, we could go to the-the university’s botanical gardens.”

Botanical gardens? And walking around might be nice. Eric’s never been to the gardens. To be honest, he didn’t know they existed, and also didn’t go to the city’s university. It was a little farther away from the downtown and it wasn’t like he got an education past high school level anyway.

He’d always wanted to go into mechanics, what with working on the bike and all. It just never worked out.

Flowers seemed nice.

“Sure! That, uh, I’ve never been but that sounds nice,” he said.

“They are qui-quite pleasant,” Phillip hummed quietly, then added. “If you don’t mind, would it be alright if I exte-ex-ex-if I invited Cadence as well?”

Cadence. Cadence, the famous one?

“Is he, uh….is he allowed to like….” Eric, frankly, had no idea what protocol was around famous people. “Sure?”

Phillip chuckled quietly, just quiet enough for the phone to pick it up, and said, “He’s definitely allowed to be in publi-public, if that’s your worry. Being famous doesn’t make it illegal to be in places. He’d wanted to see you again, but, well. Bars are cro-cro-crowded. If you want, I won’t.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Sure. I’d, uh. That’s cool.”

Why did he sound like an awkward teen? Why did this sound like asking someone out to prom? Eric was going to lose his mind.

Thankfully and graciously, Phillip seemed to understand his plight. David must have spread the word of him being an anxious mess because, to some extent, Phillip was planning this date for him.

Not a date. Just hanging out. Still weird for him, but markedly less weird.

“When’s the next weekday you’re free?” Phillip asked.

It wasn’t that hard of a question. “Monday,” Eric responded.

He didn’t have either job. Well, that was a lie, but he was picking up another late shift at the bar. He didn’t have to be there until eleven.

“Great. Monday at ten?”

“Works for me,” Eric said.

Phillip hummed in approval.

Eric almost wanted to ask about David. If Phillip heard. Things had been going well, for the most part, until David explained the polycule situation. And something about that had just made Eric’s chest seize.

That was so many people to disappoint. They’d discussed him. Eric never liked being the point of discussion, for any people. So the idea that this group of people who were all dating had talked about him to the point that the others wanted to meet him was surreal.

Plus, he couldn’t help but be wary of the insinuation that they just wanted to be friends with him. Phillip was very regal, pretty and polished. Cadence was so fucking handsome it was unfair. David had been handsome as well, beautiful in a casual way. Eric was too fucking gay for this. He hadn’t seen Marlowe in much other than lowlight, and while the dude was drunk, but even then Eric could tell the dude was adorable. It was un-fucking-fair.

There was a….worry, deeper down. That while they might not want him in a romantic way, he’s just going to be a nervous gay wreck the whole time.

“See you then, then, Eric,” Phillip’s voice held something of a smirk, and then he hung up.

Eric lowered the phone, starred at the call screen for a moment or two before things began to click on his head. He was going to hang out with Phillip. And Cadence.

They didn’t hate him.

That was a good start.

#human au #eric #david #gavin #phillip #the story #i love these so much gkjgksjgkjldkjgkjlgkjgh #right now im working on a story like this one but for macbeth joining since he's the last one to #and i kinda wanna design or draw the secondary characters in the human world #maybe ill make a comic series of it #if i do ill keep it on this blog since this is much more an OC blog #thats what i made it for after all #i wanna draw a new icon tho because that gavin is kinda old lmaoooooo #but i have a special timing when i wanna do that #:) excited for more beliefs

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misserabella · 26 days

Text

two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

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ystrike1 · 5 months

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How To Reject My Obsessive Ex-Husband - By Pinkrim (7/10)

I feel like the quality of this one will drop. Our protagonist is a self sacrificing "Guide" from an alternate version of Earth where "Espers" and "Guides" live. Espers are basically super heroes that go berserk without a Guide to stabilize them. Which means the yandere has a practical reason for his obsession. That's not a bad setup, but the overall plot seems weak.

Seohyeon was a B class guide.

She wasn't good enough.

Her family was very cold, but she managed to marry up.

Sadly her S-Class Esper husband, Ciel, lost control. His powers burned down an entire street. Seohyeon attempted to save him. She died in the process, and it's implied that they both died because yeah....Seohyeon wasn't strong enough. The gap in their abilities was too big.

Right before her death Seohyeon decides to let go of her love for Ciel. She did truly love him, but his love in return didn't make her happy. Their mismatched B and S ranks made her life a challenge as well. She rushed in to save him, sure, but at the bitter end she admits that he wasn't for her.

Their marriage wasn't making her happy.

Irene de Closhe has a loving family. Seohyeon reincarnated, but she has let go of the past in a fairly healthy way. She appreciates her new life and the love she has. She's happy she doesn't have to worry about being a Guide as well.

Her peaceful fate changes.

She resists for a while, but her husband died with her and he's also part of her new life as Irene.

Irene de Closhe runs from the mad Ciel de Leopart. He's even more handsome and powerful in this world! His boss is the Crown Prince.

Irene de Closhe cannot hide for long.

He is desperate to get her back.

She did make quite an impression. She threw herself into the flames to try and save him. He did love his wife in both universes. However, their first life together was infected with classism/different love languages and a lack of communication.

Ciel de Leopart is very clear.

VERY.

Irene de Closhe still has her guiding powers from her previous life, and it looks like Ciel still needs them.

Can she let go of her bitterness about their previous rocky marriage? He's more loyal than ever. More vocal than ever. He's mad for her, but does she even want that?

The former couple reincarnated into a novel. Ciel de Leopart and Irene de Closhe are both side characters. Ciel de Leopart is an important secondary male lead and Irene de Closhe was supposed to be a normal woman. Not a Guide with special powers.

Unfortunately I heard that the original heroine of this novel is evil, which will be quite boring in this setting. Let me explain. Irene de Closhe and Ciel de Leopart WERE the disadvantaged characters, but they have superpowers. There's no tension at all.

I lost interest before chapter 2.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #How To Reject My Obsessive Ex-Husband

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orpheusilver · 3 months

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i think the common issue that creates boring dnd player characters is like. the fixation on backstory over character conflict. like if you think abt the typical "heres my super cool guy with a super cool design and a dark tragic backstory they dont want to talk about theyre so tortured and mysterious" its like. sure that might be an interesting secondary character for an animated series but thats not what this is.

like 1. nobody is going to see that cool design unless you painted a mini so youre just gonna be that guy who spends 5 minutes of session 1 describing your outfit; 2. none of the other players want to spend ages trying to interrogate backstory out of someone who seems like they dont want to share, they want to find a fight and flex their awesome build, so unless your dm pulls your 15 page backstory document into the main quest its all gonna be irrelevant anyway; and 3. trauma does not an interesting character make! not unless you can roleplay the effects of that trauma in a compelling manner!

imo its a wayyyy better method to come up with a Fucked Up Kinda Guy, complete with quirks and flaws and affectations and sure maybe a voice if thats your vibe, they dont need to be special or unique just fucking engaging to play beside, and THEN reverse engineer the backstory based on what would make someone be like that and usually its something fucked up and traumatic anyway bc thats how existing works. like dont get me wrong theres definitely merit to establishing your place in the setting but like. in taz balance absolutely no part of their written backstories did as much for the early group dynamic as "magnus rushes in" and "taako is good out here"

^ actually new different point based on that. if you show up with a blank slate guy then play off against the other characters! if you have a whole guy do it anyway! if someone is playing it safe then play impulsive or vice versa, if someone else has the same highest stat as you then get weirdly competitive, if someone plays dubious morals then be the ethical voice calling them out on it, there is no reason for your party to always be in agreement and if they are then disagree! be a dick about it! stories thrive on conflict so fucking make some, just please for the love of god do Anything that makes them behave differently than you with an ability

#source: i have played with some truly terrible pcs and they all had fascinating backstories

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genz420 · 2 months

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First Date Headcanons PT. 2 🎱 ❤️

Masterlist | Rules

Request: "Can you do one with Leo Valdez?"

Content: First Date Headcanons

Warning: None

Pairing(s): Character x Gn!reader

Character(s): Annabeth, Leo, Luke, Ethan

Annabeth Chase

A movie while painting

I mentioned before that I don’t think Annabeth is the type of person to sit down and watch TV/movies

I stand by that

That’s why I think the two of you would have a secondary activity while the movie plays

Like paint by numbers or some kind of shit

No sharing the painting, though

Because Annabeth likes to do her own thing and not share

She will slightly judge you for whatever you make or how you do it

But she doesn’t mean any harm and will not tell you

Doing a secondary activity also allows the two of you to talk

Because I think the first date is an important time to learn about a person

Even if you are already friends

Afterwards, she would keep whatever you make and keep it on her desk

To be reminded of you

Leo Valdez

A pool hall

I get the vibe that Leo would be really good at pool

Like he would make his own Cue because he loves the game and is really good at it

Obviously, he wouldn’t hustle you

Because it’s a date

But the next time you go together

Be ready to lose some money

But the first date is chill

Not a serious game being played

Could drink at least three cups of pop

Because he is nervous

Would be cracking jokes left and right

He wants to hear you laugh

To see you smile

If you are bad at pool or don’t even know how to play, he would get up behind you to show you

Whispering in your ear

Trying to make you blush

Luke Castellan

Strawberry picking

Not a lot of things to do around camp

Unlike strawberry picking in the mortal world, the sun wouldn’t be beating down on you

Luke would make sure that no one else is in the field as you two make your way down the rows of strawberries

Would try and feed you a strawberry

Saying that it will be the best thing you will ever taste

He is a smooth talker alright

Ethan Nakamura

Cards

Not uno or go fish

But like gin rummy or war

And even if you didn’t know the game

He would take his time and explain it to you

And if the two of you have a group of date with other people, then he would make the two of you team up against whoever you are playing with

Would have music lightly playing in the background

A playlist of his own music that he thinks you might like

I see Ethan listening to a wide range of artist

Like From Fleet Foxes to the Specials

And I think he would be a big Amy Winehouse fan

He likes upbeat and happy music because that makes him happy

Would have a few snacks like chips on the side

Big fan of salt and vinegar chips

#annabeth chase x reader #leo valdez x reader #luke castellan x reader #Ethan nakamura x reader #leo valdez x you #annabeth chase #luke castellan #ethan nakamura #pjo headcanon #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo headcanons #first date #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson x reader

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rallentando1011 · 4 months

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Valentine’s Day With Donnie

(rise Donnie x gn reader)

Saint Valentine’s Day: a fickle holiday that celebrates even more fickle emotions, a day that forces the formation of many a precarious bond that statistically would not last

At least, that’s how Donnie saw it for the entirety of his life

Until you came along

Now, don’t get him wrong, he still thinks it’s stupid, but maybe something could be stupid and enjoyable

He means, he enjoys his brothers’ company, right? (/j… maybe /hj)

Either way, for you, he doesn’t mind giving Valentine’s Day a genuine go

So, when you come over on the holiday, Donnie’s ready

“As you know, I think Valentine’s Day is an example of rampant consumerism devouring the meaning behind holidays and people’s wallets, but there is something special about a day in which one can express their admiration for each other.”

“Wait… you got me something?”

“Correction: I made you something.”

The man proceeds to hand you a new phone, the insignia on it implying it was made, or at least modified, by his hand

You’d been complaining mentioning that you needed one that actually works

You smile and thank him eagerly

“It’s fine if you don’t have anything, I wasn’t really expecting-”

“Au contraire, Don, I made you something too!”

He looks baffled for about 20 seconds as you hand him a small gift bag containing red velvet macarons, lavender tea bags, a small, smooth rose quartz, a miniature turtle plushie

“Well, me and Mikey made the macarons together. Gotta give credit where credit is due.”

He barely registers your comment, too absolutely enamored by your consideration of him

Donnie doesn’t know where his mind is at, but it definitely isn’t in this solar system, perhaps not even the surrounding stellar systems

Bottom line, bro’s ecstatic

The huge grin on his face and brightness in his eyes effectively gets his point across

Not only did he give a heartfelt gift, he received one?

Okay, maybe this Valentine’s Day had something to it

Watching rom-coms solely to trash on them is a mandatory tradition

Every other Valentine’s Day he’s spent by his lonesome has mostly consisted of hours of mercilessly ragging on romantic comedies

Yep, definitely just to criticize them

No sadness and/or yearning involved

But now, with your company?

He’s still criticizing the ever-loving heck out of those movies

If you genuinely enjoy rom-coms, be prepared for this little pessimist to rain on your parade, grumbling questions of the logic and flow of the film

However, if you, too, find them stupid, you’ve found yourself the perfect, cynical viewing buddy

“You can tell just from the cinematography of that one guy catching her that he’s the secondary love interest.”

“I swear on Galileo’s heliocentric model itself- how many love interests can one main character have?”

“I think that’s the challenge that was going on in the writer’s room - to see how many variations of a love triangle they could make.”

“The challenge in the writer’s room was that they had too many people slamming on keyboards, yet none of them wrote Shakespeare.”

“Was that an infinite monkey theorem allusion?”

“And a simultaneous dig on the foul writing - zing!”

Following the festivities of movie-binging and gift-giving, he turns to you with a rather uncharacteristic diffidence in his demeanor

Glance askance, slight perspiration on his forehead, fidgeting hands, stammering words

As you start to ask what’s wrong, Donnie quickly, almost unintelligibly so, asks if you want to dance

If you feel so inclined, you nod, take his hand, and offer a dance

If Sinatra is playing (Nancy or Frank or both), you know some slow dancing is going down

Bill Withers or Kitty Kallen, maybe even Dean Martin, something classic, whispering in the background, a hand or two on your hips, yours on his shoulders, chins tucked cozily on the crook of each other’s neck or crown of the head, just the two of you gently swaying together to the rhythm sounds perfect

Normally when he dances, it’s fast-paced boogie or groove (he didn’t get the name Bootyshaker9000 for nothing), but for today, for you, he’ll keep the dancing slow, smooth, sweet

Keeping you close and spending time with you has certainly made this his favorite Valentine’s Day thus far

The macarons you gave him also significantly improved his verdict

(Happy Valentine’s Day gang ‼️ HERE are some accompanying sketches with this!)

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise season 3 #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #rise donnie x reader #rise donatello x reader #rise donnie #rise donatello #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #valentines day #100

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myfanfic-urfantrash · 4 months

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Honkai Star Rail A/B/O: Express Trio

Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, and March.

CW: omegaverse, implied nsfw

A/N: I thought about my fave trio for a second too long :3c

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Caelus

People often get confused on his secondary gender and are torn between a strong smelling Beta or a weak smelling Alpha, but he's truthfully an omega. Another reason this is, is because he has little idea on how to be an omega so he just does whatever feels right to him.

He also just refuses to wear a collar, finding it uncomfortable even with the softer kinds.

Smells like citrus, specifically oranges including the bitter peel regularly but during his heats the sweetness of sugar gets added. He smells delicious.

Prefers to spend his heats surrounded by stuff he's found on his travels...and trash cans. At least he cleans the items up before he adds them to his nest?

Has a favorite blanket that MUST be in his nest or he'll freak out. It was one of the first gifts he received from his dear friends since he joined the Astral Express and thus one of the very few things he can call his own.

When he's with his partner, regardless of their secondary gender, he loves to build his nest with them and include their own bedding with his.

Wants to spend his heats with his partner no matter their secondary and gets sad when they need to leave his nest even for short periods. Don't worry he bounces right back into being a content omega once they rejoin him, just give him extra cuddles for leaving he deserves it.

Dan Heng

He's an Alpha but his pheromones are a bit of a mess due to his...past so he mostly keeps his scent glands covered up as much as possible.

Smells like rain and fresh ink on parchment but covers it up with scent patches and high collared clothes.

If he has an omega partner he prefers for them to scent him rather than scent them himself, though he won't mind scenting their bedding should they need it for their nest.

His ruts don't' come consistently which is inconvenient but at least they only last for a few days. Prefers to deal with his rut alone as he's so uncomfortable it's hard for him to be in the mood. Though if his partner wants to stay by his side he'll let them and hide with them under his sheets as they lay beside him.

On the rare chance he's in the mood he's not gonna leave his bed or their nest for anything besides necessities.

Once he bonds with his partner his ruts become more consistent and he finds himself in the mood more often than not so

During his partners heats he'll tend to them but he won't treat them like they're like fragile glass. He'll stick by their side reading a book beside them and occasionally get up to get what they need. He's more open to helping out during their heats than dealing with his own ruts because he prefers to focus on his partner over himself.

March 7th

An omega as well though her scent tends to be more on the stronger side. It can get a bit overwhelming when she's upset but smells like heaven when she's content or happy.

She smells like a cool desert of marshmallows and strawberries with mint.

Likes to wear collars over wearing just scent patches as she can get super cute ones that match her adorable aesthetic. She has a whole collection of cute collars she likes to use daily and for special occasions.

Struggles with building her nests as she wants to add multiple things to it at once in one spot but give her some time and she'll eventually figure it all out. Welcomes her partner to help build her nest with her but each piece's must get her approval before it goes in. Her nests are filled with soft toys and tons of pillows.

Likes to spend her heats with her partner just cuddling rather than having fun, not that she's opposed but she mostly feels kinda achy and gross so she'd prefer some comfort until she's feeling better. Once she's ready for fun her partner better spoil her rotten!

Doesn't care too much about her partners presentation though I feel she might prefer an omega partner since they could relate and bond more.

#gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail a/b/o #dan heng x reader #caelus x reader #march 7th x reader #I must show my adoration for Caelus somehow :D #and show some love for Dan Heng :3c #and of course we can't forget March :V #I am on a a/b/o roll

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a-girl-in-neverland · 1 month

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Since Bridgerton S3 is coming in a few weeks it's a great time for venting my thoughts on the show

I think so far Shonda has made a great job on the show but there has been some faults: they could have changed that situation with Daphne and Simon (you know which one), they could have given Kanthony more attention and also could have made Edwina way less oblivious and a better sister (rewatching S2 has been a torture)

BUT I want to vent about the secondary plotlines, because WHEN will they (Shonda and the writers) understand that the show would be SOOOOO much better if they focused on the family with the occasional minor plotline involving other characters and NOT the other way around???????

Don't get me wrong, I love Lady Danbury, Queen Charlotte (she's grown on me after QC), Madame Delacroix, for instance. But the Mondrich's??? Why are they still around???

They were great on S1, for both the purpose of friends of the Duke and the lord featherington plotline. Keeping them for S2 i thought was a stretch. But for S3??? I simply don't see the point

The show would benefit so much from keeping the Bridgertons the main secondary plotlines. I do not care how but i would 100% prefer to see the family interactions

Think about it: it would give the ones we already know room to grow and evolve (Daphne and Anthony) and also give oportunity for get to know others (Francesca, Hyacinth and Gregory)

I was daydreaming about a few headcanons/possibilities

• Daphne being involved in Francesca's first season

• Anthony healing from the burden of being parentified so early and getting to be just a sibling

• Anthony and Kate as a role model/couple for the youngsters

• Eloise and Benedict (i just love every scene just the two of them)

• Daphne, Eloise and Francesca just being sisters together (ABC is already a solidified trio but DEF could be a good combination)

• Gregory and Hyacinth causing chaos

• ABC being big brothers to Gregory (specially Benedict and Colin could interact more with him)

• Daphne being the one to give Francesca and Eloise "the talk" so they are not as naive as she was

• both Kanthony and Daphne & Simon evolving in their marriages, facing challenges and showing more than just "happily ever after"

• Francesca and John being close to the family (and with that, the whole family can grieve him and not just Francesca)

• Kate and Simon being close with the others siblings (i get that Rege isn't coming back, but i would be nice tho)

If you read this far, i hope you have an amazing week, i wish you love and happiness and thanks for letting me vent <3

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fenrislorsrai · 3 months

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Fandom Trumps Hate- Good Omens Offerings

this is a non-exhaustive list because there are so many Good Omens offerings. These are just Discord pals that were go "aaaaaaaaaaa what if nobody bids on me!?!?!?!"

well, then what if I give you the opposite problem and EVERYONE bids on you. AHAHAHAHAHA. Chaos for a good cause! my favorite!

Read the full offering for details. I've just given a super quick summary and additional fandoms they do if you're going "I hunger for CROSSOVER" plus said nice things about them. HAHAHAHA. YOU HAVE TO ACCEPT MY COMPLIMENTS NOW!

Get art or words as a gift for your favorite fandom for a charity donation! Fandom Trumps FAQ on how it all works. @fandomtrumpshate

Dorli-+ Legend of Zelda, Avatar The Last Airbender- illustration, banner, or book cover -- up to M rating - does trans/nb characters, f/f ships - absolutely the softest, squishiest looking character work. get the most huggable version of characters. (or squishy AND hot. ohohohoho)

SassishMoon- illustration up to E rating- does trans/nb characters, f/f ships -special note, I got art for Moon last year and it was fabulous. also have a collab coming out in a zine and it is HOT HOT HOT.

WarGoddess- + FullMetal Alchemist- Illustration up to E rating- interested in angst, unhappy endings, genderbending- lovely textures. beautiful skins tones and absolutely fabulous wings.

Sightkeeper- illustration up to E rating- option for comic page if bid goes high enough!- interested in trans & nonbinary characters- Delicious line work and delightful facial expressions. also: monsters

TheRavenMuse - 5-10K fic up to E rating- make it dark, make it weird! and by weird, has done Bentley/Bookshop smut. TIME FOR CRACK.

contritecactite- + Final Fantasy: VII, XII, XV, Ace Attorney 5-10K fic up to E OR 5K podfic of your work up to M rating- interested in trans & nonbinary character, F/F, polyships, and canon compliant/fill in the gap in canon type fics- go get you some RADIO omens. and Book Omens. writes very caring stuff... and sometimes caring is a good healing fuck.

accidentaldemon- under 5k up to E rating- interested in polyships, trans & nonbinary characters, and humans AUs- do you need some Crowley & Young Shadwell fic? AccidentalDemon has you covered.

TawnyOwl- 5-10K up to E rating- loves AUs where they meet and find they're perfect for each other in a new and special way.

SeedsofWinter +Our Flag Means Death + Venture Brothers- Fan Labor for up to E rating. (length depends on final bid value) Deep content editor. Goes way beyond the basic spelling and grammar check. This is a draft editor to help fill in missing scenes and fix pacing. Has run several zines as the editor! Interested in trans /nb characters, polyships, f/f, reader insert, unhappy endings, and RARE PAIRS.

Ngk_is_cool - under 5K up to T- TV or Book Omens! time for all those secondary character to shine! anything but a/c. especially interested in ace and queerplatonic relationships. do you want a fic with some footnotes like the book?

Shaninal- under 5K up to M rating- A/C in some canon complaint fluff and humor. OR beta read for 5-10K up to E rating for Good Omens, Percy Jackson, or Miraculous Lady Bug

EdosianOrchids- 3 options! 2 soft & fluffy up to 5K and one 5-10K hurt/comfort. TV or Book Omens. especially known for chronic pain, disability, and PTSD focused fics. Come and get some HEALING and comfort for the chronic issues. also does aspc fics.

HKBlack- 10-20K up to E rating. Interested in trans/nb characters. Love AUs with a happy ending. THERE WILL BE PUNS. SO MANY PUNS

This is only a partial sampling go see the whole Good Omens tag

and if you are have a gomens offering not listed here, feel free to add in reblogs! Let's give some charities some money!

#good omens #fandom trumps hate #book!omens #radio!omens #fanfic #fanart

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thelightsandtheroses · 9 months

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One: I was just coasting until we met

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When Joel finds you on your self-assigned insomnia bench one night, it sparks an unexpected friendship that quickly develops into more. Finding peace in the middle of an apocalypse always seemed impossible, but being with Joel feels natural, like a missing piece has fallen into place at last. When a ghost from your past threatens to destroy the peace you’ve found in Jackson, everything will change.

Word Count: 2.5k

Overarching Series Warnings - 18+ blog - minors do not interact, unexpected friendship, developing relationship, idiots in love, flangst, typical TLOU content, references to cults, references to past manipulation, references to past violence, references to PTSD, single parent reader, some secondary original characters, etc. No use of Y/N, any further warnings to be added as appropriate. No specific age for reader, but range is implied in later chapters (minimum of 30s but not specified any further than that) Notes: This idea has been going around my head for months and I’m so excited to actually do something with this and share it. Also, a special thank you to the lovely @darkroastjoel for encouraging me to write this weeks ago when I wasn’t sure of the concept. The chapter title is from I’m With You by Vance Joy.

One: I was just coasting till we met

Series List | Next

Jackson, WY, 2024

There’s nothing but stars and night sky ahead of you. If you look behind you, you can see a few sparse lights illuminating houses in Jackson, but ahead of you there are no distractions, just the trees and the sky and vastness of the world around you.

The air is cool and smells fresh; a mix of woodland, of the night. You adjust the thick woollen cardigan around your pyjama top and faded sweatpants. There’s no one around at this time of night so you haven’t made a real effort to get dressed or worry about your appearance.

You’ve come here many times before but it never fails to take you aback. The vastness, the stars, the way it makes you feel insignificant but not in a negative way. The only sounds you can hear are the insects and wind blowing through trees.

It’s peaceful, or as close to peaceful as exists these days. For a while, you could forget about the world you live in, convince yourself the last twenty years have been some sick fever dream instead.

In the two years you’ve lived in Jackson, this has become your spot. It’s where you go when you can’t sleep. It’s where you go when the past gets to you, when you either wake because of creeping nightmares and ghosts, or after hours of lying in your bed in a restless, anxious state wishing for slumber.

You only ever come here at night. It’s as if there’s some sort of magic in place that would either ruin or remove the bench in the daytime.

When you first came to this town, the idea of wandering around in the middle of the night seemed preposterous, downright reckless after living in Kansas QZ.

However, one night you hit a breaking point.

You’d been lying in your bed, restless and unable to relax. Every time you thought you might finally drift into sleep, your heart would race and your throat would be so dry that you wondered if you were dying. You would become irrationally concerned you might just stop breathing if you did fall asleep at all. It was a pattern of insomnia that had followed you for years, from before Kansas and beyond. When you did finally sleep, you’d have nightmares, but most of your nights were shaped by restlessness.

That night, as you desperately tried not to wake anyone else up, hating them all for being able to sleep, you felt like you were going to finally break. You had to get out, just clear your head a little.

You discovered the bench that night, perfectly positioned to watch the sunrise, to take in the world around you without distraction or worries.

It’s a special spot; serene and soothing. It’s your sanctuary.

Sometimes you don’t need to come here, your record is a week and half away - an achievement you only reached a few days ago, but inevitably, and usually at least twice a week, you’ll end up back on your bench waiting for the sun to meet you and wash away your ghosts.

There’s the crunching sound of boots on gravel behind you and you turn around cautiously, one hand clinging to the edge of the bench. You’ve been complacent, you chastise yourself, you don’t even have a weapon with you.

Joel Miller stands before you; a battered brown coat buttoned up to his neck, torch in one hand, with the other jammed into a jacket pocket, and a bemused expression on his face when he sees you sitting there.

You’ve heard enough of him from the other locals since his arrival; he’s Tommy’s older brother, Maria isn’t sure of him, he settled here with a teenage ward a couple of months ago. Some of the other locals have said Ellie, the girl, is almost feral. Your impression of her from fleeting visits to the library is that she’s curious, she’s haunted, not used to a community like Jackson (and these days, who would be?) and perhaps the most honest person you’ve met in years.

”May I?” he asks, indicating the empty space on the bench next to you. You almost want to laugh at the Southern lilt to his voice, the polite manners he’s showing you.

‘May I?’ is not a phrase that belongs in this world anymore. People take, some people give, but most take. When the world ends, manners fade. When the world ends, you ask for forgiveness and not permission.

It’s why your instinct is to say no, to say ‘Actually fuck you, Tommy’s brother, and go find another insomnia bench, this one is mine!’

You don’t do that though. Jackson brings back those manners, or it’s trying to at least. And even if you think it belongs to you, technically it’s not your bench because this is a stupid commune.

So you grimace and nod, frustrated about the interruption as Joel Miller sits next to you.

It’s the first time you’ve had a chance to look at Tommy’s brother this closely. While you can see the familial similarities, Joel’s different. His greying dark hair is far shorter, almost messy at the moment like he’s just woken up and walked here. It’s almost endearing.

There’s a scar on the right side of his temple, the one closest to you, and you try and take in every detail of him, to analyse and evaluate just who this person next to you could be.

You expect to feel uncomfortable at his presence, to feel on edge and ready to flee or pounce, but you don’t.

“It’s uh, a good view from here,” Joel says after a moment.

You nod noncommittally and clasp your hands together on your lap.

“I’ve seen you around Jackson. I’m Joel,” he continues. His voice is surprisingly soft, gentle as though he wants to put you at ease. It shows a level of consideration you didn’t expect, one that makes you more honest in your reply.

“It’s a small town, I know who you are, Joel Miller.”

“Oh really?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow and for a second something else flashes across his face. “What have you been told about me then?”

“You’re new, you’re Tommy’s brother. I think that’s about it. Heard you and Tommy are good on patrol.”

“Oh yeah?” Unlike most of the men in Jackson, he doesn’t seem to puff with pride at that compliment. He looks at his hands, wringing them together then before asking, “So, that’s me. What about you then? What’s your name?”

You introduce yourself, taking in the way he repeats your name - how it sounds on his lips.

“I haven’t seen you around town much before,” he says after a moment.

“Would you have even noticed?”

“Someone like you? Most definitely.” You look at the ground in surprise, certain that you’re misinterpreting his words.

He’s just being polite.

It’s just the insomnia.

“It is a good view. You’re right,” you say quietly, keen to shift the conversation away from yourself and back to this moment. “It’s a really great spot for the sunrise.”

“I know,” he says calmly.

You pause. Has Joel Miller been using your bench when you haven’t? Is your bench essentially cheating on you? You’ve always believed this was your secret, your place, but perhaps it’s a timeshare instead.

For some reason, the thought of that upsets you more than you expect. You try and shake it off though, to be polite and good and everything someone who lives in Jackson is expected to be.

Perhaps you can share the bench … today. Just for today.

“How are you liking Jackson so far then?” you ask.

Joel scoffs quietly to himself and you look over with raised eyebrows.

“Been asked that a few times already, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Why am I not surprised? Well, we don’t get that many new arrivals and you’re Tommy’s brother. People were bound to talk. They’ll settle down when something else comes along.”

“‘S been weeks now. Besides, I thought you just said you don’t get many newcomers, how long exactly is this going to last?” he asks, leaning forward for a moment, his arms crossed on his knees and head down.

You smile to yourself, wondering if you should admit how long it took for people to stop asking your group how you were liking Jackson, how long it has really taken to be seen as a resident and not a new arrival.

“Well, there’s a new litter of puppies due soon, and I heard a rumour that there’s going to be another dance again in the next few weeks. Your arrival will become old news before you know it,” you say with false sincerity.

He chuckles to himself. “This really is like a small town, huh? That uh, -“

“Nosiness? Lack of privacy? Gossip mill?”

“All of the above. So, you think puppies will help?”

“Everyone loves puppies, Joel Miller. Probably even you do.”

He smirks. “Really, do I look like that to you?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, mischief in what you can make out of his eyes in the dim light.

“Sure you do.”

“So we’ve just got to wait for a bunch of puppies or some town dance for me an’ Ellie to be old news? Okay, here’s hoping.”

A silence falls between you but unlike before, it feels companionable, calming even.

“So, you said ‘I know’ when I said it was a good spot for the sunrise. Does that mean you’ve been out here before then?” you ask as your curiosity finally wins out.

Joel looks over at you with a smirk, “Why, is that really bothering you, huh? A couple of times, sure.” He shifts his weight slightly, places an arm on the bench and turns himself so he’s facing you.

“I just haven’t seen you out here before, that’s all.”

“You come out here at this hour a lot?” Joel raises an eyebrow that you can’t tell whether conveys being impressed or incredulous.

“Sometimes,” you say lightly. Most times.

“How long have you been out here then?” Joel asks.

“On this bench? About an hour. In Jackson? Two years, give or take.”

“An’ how are you likin’ Jackson so far?” he asks, a mischievous spark in his eyes that even in the dim light takes years off him, makes him look lighter.

You laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Touché, Joel.”

“Couldn’t resist.”

“Do you know what? Honestly, I didn’t believe it at first,” you say after a moment. “Places like this - they don’t work, okay? Someone always wants to be in control, power abhors a vacuum and then power corrupts, right? We were watching that play out before cordyceps, and if I’ve learned anything these last twenty years … so when we got here, I didn’t want to stick around too long. I guess that I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop? Only now, now I’m still here and I guess this place, maybe it just works. It shouldn’t, but it does.”

You’re not sure what makes the truth spill out of you like that. Perhaps it’s because it’s the middle of the night, or it’s the power of the bench, or more likely, it’s because you know Joel is probably out here for a similar reason to you.

You can see it in his eyes, in the way he’s sitting.

“That’s what my - my - I’ve heard that before. That this place actually works,” Joel says. “I know what you mean though. You see enough of all that in the QZs. Is that where you were before here?”

“Before Jackson, I was in Kansas for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Huh, I take it you’ve heard the stories then?”

Kansas had a reputation amongst all the remaining QZs. FEDRA had been brutal there; ruled the city with an iron fist and realised every nightmare of a brutal regime.

It was no surprise the fireflies had been so present there at one point, the symbol of hope and rising up against tyranny. Only they had abandoned Kansas years ago and it was down to those who stayed to try and fight back. You remembered Michael, who had tried to lead a movement against FEDRA, a man who was working towards a peaceful rebellion, as if such a thing could exist. The QZ had gone dark months ago though. It didn’t bode well and you’d heard the whispers that perhaps Kansas was no more.

“I uh - passed through on my way here.” Joel shifts awkwardly.

“It’s gone, isn’t it?”

Joel pauses and regards you carefully before he replies.“Yeah.”

“I take it that FEDRA and Michael’s group just - it doesn’t matter actually.” They’re all dead anyway, you think, the facts won’t change that.

Flashes of years pass you.

Violence. So much violence. Then those moments between, the ones that managed to burrow and bury themselves beneath your skin.

Your ex-boyfriend and you kissing in the kitchen of your crappy apartment …

Your birthday - singing to that cheesy rock song in the living room and dancing to an old song with Sean and his sister.

Marking Gabriel’s height each birthday on the kitchen wall because it felt like a normal thing to do, a new line each year, each growth spurt measured.

Your ex-boyfriend and you arguing over the system, over the possibilities for Kansas. You wonder how long he lasted after you left Kansas - if he was there for its end.

Separations … losses … too many deaths … pockets of hope and continued disappointments.

You okay?” Joel asks, a reluctant expression on his face.

“I’m fine. Left there for a reason.”

“Right.”

“It’s fine.”

Kansas had never really been home. You can’t make a home in a place you’re constantly on alert in, where you subsist on fear and anxiety. You could exist there though and at least in Kansas it was clear who was running the show, clear who was in charge.

Jackson is the closest to a home you’ve found in more than twenty years, and even here you feel halfway out of the door.

Joel’s still looking at you though, his brow furrowed like you’re a map he can’t read, an unfathomable equation.

You shrug and resume staring ahead at the forest ahead, at letting every sound, smell and sound around you just soak in, to create an illusion of peace.

After a while you steal a glance at Joel. He’s still on the other side of the bench; the hand on the arm leaning on the bench now pinching the space behind his brows, his eyes momentarily shut.

You’re not sure exactly how much time passes like this but soon the darkness fades and dawn rises to greet you with the promise of a new day.

You stand up, brushing imaginary dirt off your clothes and meet Joel’s gaze. “See you around, Joel Miller.”

“See you,” he replies lightly.

As you walk down the hill, you turn around and notice Joel’s still sitting there, focused on the horizon ahead.

This isn’t going to be the only time you find Joel on your bench, you realise. Suddenly, your lonely but peaceful sanctuary has an addition. You know the two of you will find yourselves on this bench again in the middle of the night.

If you hadn’t spoken to Joel, the loss of that solitude would be devastating, but it’s not.

So, you think to yourself, it turns out you’re not the only insomniac wanderer in Jackson.

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wardenparker · 16 days

Text

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 14

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Nothing, really. Some conversations about money and clothing but this chapter is fairly smooth sailing. Summary: The wedding planning begins in earnest! Notes: For anyone following along on the chronic pain escapades, this coming week is surgery week! Hopefully this will be the last mountain to climb in the way of handling the issues at hand and we'll have just a little bit of time with smoother sailing.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Planning a lunch for the day after the engagement party was very intentional, not wanting people to be short of sleep or hungover after celebrating the night before. What your mother has planned in as casual a manner as possible is a lunch for family and friends in the White House residence to help start the planning of your wedding. It’s favorite foods and enjoying yourselves. At least, that is the plan.

It’s noon on the dot when you and Agent Sisson walk into the Blue Room, and he happily leaves you to your lunch party. Agent Bailey has a much-deserved day off today and your secondary detail is just fine with leaving you to be guarded by the standing White House detail.

“Birdie, your party last night was magnificent.” Your mother rises quickly and moves to hug you. She had enjoyed the relaxed and festive atmosphere.

“I’m glad you had fun, Mom.” The hug is tight and short, but you squeeze each other before letting go. “We thought it went really well, too. The caterers were incredible.”

“They were.” She agrees. “Now, Marcus’s parents should be here any moment. Your father has already talked Matthew into a round of golf after lunch.” She huffs in amusement.

"Of course he did." That doesn't surprise you in the least, but you are glad to see that your father and Matthew Pike are getting along. When the Pikes had come to visit over the summer the two fathers had gotten on like gangbusters and it's continuing. "Sydney should be here soon, too. Juan is taking the baby to his mother's today for some bonding time." Looking around, there is no sign of your sister despite the table being set for the full party. 'Where's Junie?"

“She’s actually out.” Your mother tells you with a small smile. “She went out to breakfast with her new favorite person.” It’s absolutely wonderful how she has clicked with her soulmate and there is no way she would discourage that. “She gave up sleeping in to spend time with him.”

"Our little Junebug's in love." It stings a little that your baby sister won't be here for lunch and to talk about wedding things, but you definitely also understand the pull of wanting to be with your soulmate every possible moment.

“She is.” Your mother nods and touches your shoulder. “Much like you are. I expect her to come rushing in at the last minute, flustered from seeing him.”

"I guess Grammy's wedding dress is going to get a little bit of a workout." the idea makes you smile. Just the mere idea of it. Even if Junie decided she didn't want to wear the heirloom, it wouldn't truly matter. It's having the option that is meaningful.

“That is something that I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother arches a brow delicately and smiles.

"What about?" You ask tentatively, desperately hoping she's not about to say that something has happened to it or that she doesn't want you to wear it for some odd reason.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about all of your weddings.” She admits. “I was thinking about offering Alex some of the train, if one of you wishes to remove it, in order to create a vest or something to be a part of his own wedding ensemble with he and David eventually marry. But I wanted to see what you and Junie think, since it will one day be held to pass down to your daughters.”

"Mom." Your eyes water immediately, one hand going to your chest, and you're nodding before you can even say anything else. "I think that might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love it, and Junie will too, I just know it."

“And maybe it will become a tradition with David and Alex’s kids, if they decide to have some.” She is so grateful you like the idea.

"It actually works perfectly with an idea I had," you admit, but a sound from down the hall cuts you off and you grin when you recognize the commotion. "I'll tell everyone together. That's definitely Sydney and Selena that I hear."

“Oh my god, I’m in the White House!” Selena cannot even contain the squeal as the door opens to admit them. “I’m such a history nerd, I just can’t.”

"We'll finally get you on a full White House tour one of these days, I promise." Selena has been meaning to and meaning to book a place on a tour since she moved to DC, but she's been busy and just hasn't nailed down the time. You file the reminder away for yourself and in the meantime you throw your arms around both friends. "I'm so glad you guys are here, oh my god."

“Where else would we be?” Sydney scoffs. “A private invitation to the White House is being framed and hung up on my wall.”

"There's going to be a bunch of them over the next year." Your laugh is full of relief, though, and you usher them both into the room. "Selena, you met my mother last night, right?"

“To be honest, I was too nervous to approach her.” She admits with a rueful shake of her head, obviously a little intimidated by the President of the United States being your mother.

"She's an absolute nerd," you assure Selena with a laugh. You grab her hand and tug her toward the center of the Blue Room. "Mom, you can see Syd's baby pictures in just a second." It's so incredibly sweet that in the last two minutes your mother has clamored to see pictures of baby Constance, but you bring Selena forward with you and smother a laugh. "I want you to meet Selena Pike. She's one of Marcus's cousins and we got attached at the hip while I was in Dallas."

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Your mother has several different smiles, but the one she gives Selena is a genuine, friendly smile that is reserved for family. “Don’t shake my hand.” She shakes her head when Selena offers a more formal greeting. “Family hugs.”

“Oh my god.” Selena breathes, in a way that makes it very clear that the full sentence is actually oh my god, I’m hugging the President, but she keeps her composure well enough and is beaming when she pulls back. “It’s such an honor,” she gushes, giddy and not caring to hide it.

“Well hopefully I won’t disappoint.” She gives Selena a wink and smiles as she practically vibrates.

“Absolutely not.” Selena assures her, certain that there won’t be any politics talked today beyond the invitation list. Today is about the wedding.

“While I know it will not be up to snuff with the amazing caterers that Birdie had last night, I hoped that having lunch would be an easy way to start things off.” Your mother informs them.

"I can't imagine your chef making anything less than stellar." Donna Pike strides into the room with a glowing smile, with your little sister by her side. "I'm so sorry. We got caught up for a minute. June was showing me something in the China Room."

June trails behind your future mother in law, beaming with the innocent hope to someone newly in love. “Sorry, I saw her at the gate and escorted her in.”

"Don't be sorry!" You sweep in and hug them both one at a time, glad to be able to squeeze the life out of your sister and see Donna happily smiling away. Everyone is here and today is meant to be relaxed and joyous.

“Our bride to be is looking radiant this morning.” Donna observes slyly. “Hopefully that means you have a clear plan on what you wish?”

"Marcus and I have talked through some of our early ideas," you pat your purse with pride. "I have a notebook dedicated to wedding planning and thought we could start talking things through over lunch."

“Very efficient.” Donna praises with an encouraging smile. “Now- let me go ahead and say that this is your show. What you want - goes.” She promises. “I will offer an opinion when you want one, but I would never want to be the kind of mother-in-law that views this as ‘her wedding’.”

"This is the White House's wedding." It isn't something that you regret or dread, though, and you turn to your mother with a smile. "And we're going to honor that as best we can, while still doing things our way."

“As long as you are happy with the results.” Your mother interjects. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and we can start talking?” You suggest, nodding to the table that has been set. “I don’t know about you guys but I slept late and didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah….slept.” Junie snorts with a knowing grin. “You and Markie couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the end of the night.”

“It was their engagement party,” Sydney reminds Junie, laughing her way to the table. There are place cards out with everyone’s names on them and little bud cases with a few flowers at each seat. “They’re allowed to be sickeningly cute. It comes with the territory.”

“I know.” She grins. “I’m happy for you, even if it’s eye-rollingly cliché.”

“Says the girl who basically came skipping into the room from spending the morning with her own soulmate.” You sit down at the table where your name is marked, delighted to have Syd on one side of you and Donna on the other. “You guys were sickeningly cute last night, too.”

She rolls her eyes and bites her lips for a moment before she sticks her tongue out at you.

"And on that note..." Like the big sister you are, you snicker playfully before turning your eyes across the table. "So Mom, what's for lunch?"

“Poached salmon with a lemon dill sauce, couscous and root vegetables .” Your mother hum. “Started off by a summer strawberry salad with candied pecans.”

There is a collective, happy groan from everyone at the table, and seconds later a member of the White House kitchen staff comes into the room with pitchers of water and iced tea for the table and another follows with the salad course. Dining in the White House is always a bit like a dance, and you love watching Selena's face as she experiences it for the very first time.

Junie looks towards you with a happy face as the salads are being brought in. “Have you decided to wear Grammie’s dress?”

"Starting with the big questions right away?" Well, you can't blame her for that. It will affect her, too, ultimately. "I have. I love Grammie's dress and I've dreamt about wearing it for years. But, Mom had an idea. And it would affect you, too."

“How would it affect me?” She asks curiously, picking up her fork and thanking the staff as they set a salad on her place setting.

"Mom had an idea to alter the dress," you explain as everyone starts to eat. "The train on Grammie's dress is long, and there is enough fabric there that...if we agreed we both wanted to...we could have a professional trim the skirt and use the fabric from the train to make a waistcoat for Alex for when he and David finally decide to get married."

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” Instantly in love with the sentiment, she nods eagerly. “I agree, completely.”

"I know we like different styles." The fact that she is on board with this immediately has both you and your mother beaming with bright smiles, and you sip your iced tea happily in between breaths. "But I like dresses a bit shorter than you do, and I'm taller. I bet if we had Grammie's dress taken up to be full-length on you, it would be about tea length on me."

She snorts slightly and nods. “You are taller than me, you giant.” She teases, shooting you a grin. “I love that idea. I know you’ve been mooning over a Jackie O style for a few weeks.”

“I do want to wear pearls,” you admit with a grin. Your cheeks warm with the slowly building hum of excitement that is actually starting to plan your wedding. “And Marcus and I talked about having a cake similar to the one the Kennedys had.”

“Typical.” She teases, falling in love with the idea immediately. “Do we know if the bakery that made the cake is still in operation? You would need a huge one. It could be another feather in their cap.”

“They are.” In fact, Marcus had looked it up within hours of having the thought and been nearly giddy to report it. “But they’re in Boston, so we would need to talk to them to see if they’re even able to do a cake for a DC wedding. If not, we thought we would just replicate the flavors as a nod to the original.”

Junie snorts and throws your mother a grin. “I think that a request for a wedding cake on White House stationary would be something framed and hung on the wall.” She offers, pointing her fork at her mother. “Or can that be done?”

“I’ll find out.” Your mother’s answering grin says she’ll find a way to make it happen if it is at all within her power. “If it can’t be done on White House stationary, the request will still have the First Family’s name on it.”

“We have a back up plan in case it’s unreasonable to ask,” you remind your mother. It isn’t worth throwing titles around over a cake. That’s not only silly, it would look very bad from an outside perspective.

“If it will cause an optic problem, we will handle it another way, but the wedding will be a White House function.” Your mother reminds you.

“Of course it will.” Your fork up another bite of your salad with a happy hum. “To that point: Mom, we’d like to have the ceremony in the Rose Garden if that’s okay with you.”

“Honestly?” She smiles at you. “I didn’t imagine you would want anywhere else.” She admits. “You have spent hours out there since I’ve changed my address.”

“Have you picked a date yet?” Donna asks, promoting you and Sydney to exchange a knowing smile.

“We did.” The fact that it’s starting to become a reality — this dream you’ve had for months now — makes you giddy in your seat. “Since we share so many of the same friends and family members between what would be two guest lists, Syd and Marcus and I all talked, and we’re having the wedding on September second next year. The next morning, in place of a day-after brunch, we’d like everyone to come and celebrate Constance’s birthday at the inn.”

“Oh that is wonderful!” Donna lights up and nods. “That little girl is cute as a button and her birth is wound into your engagement.”

“And,” you tilt your head to Sydney, not having formally asked her about this particular detail yet. “We’d like her to be our flower girl, too.”

Every woman in the room, including Junie, coos at the idea. Sydney nearly tears up, hormones still making her slightly over emotional when it comes to wonderful things and her daughter. “I would love that.”

“Malachi has set his tongue firmly in cheek and insists on being the ring bearer because I trust him with everything else in my life.” It had made you laugh so hard you’d doubled over when he had said it jokingly a few days ago and it’s all you’ve been able to think of since, so you and Marcus had asked him officially. “So he’ll bring her down the aisle safely. No worrying about getting her around or trying to teach a one-year-old to throw flower petals.”Top of Form

“Oh please tell me we can find a baby carrier in your wedding colors.” Sydney snorts, cackling with laughter. “I would pay money to see him strap her to his chest.”

“It shouldn’t be hard.” The thought hadn’t occurred to you but now that it has you’re fully on board. “We think we want to go with navy and gold. It should be easy to find a navy baby carrier.”

“Only if Malachi and Constance are wearing gold.” Selena chuckles. “God that will be cute.”

“We’ll make it adorable. But putting Constance in a little gold flower girl dress sounds adorable.” When everyone is done with their salads a few members of the White House staff comes back in to clear the small plates and serve lunch, which looks absolutely stunning. Not that that surprises anyone. The White House chef is remarkably talented and it makes you grateful on a very large scale that your wedding’s catering will be in good hands.

The first bite has Donna groaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.” She gushes, looking between you and your mother. “Tell me how this works.” She begs. “Do you have to pay for them yourselves or is it part of the perks of living in the White House?”

“Their salary is part of the presidential budget. The kitchen staff are White House employees, not the family’s specifically.” Your mother doesn’t mind talking a little bit of shop at the table, but she does lend Sydney a smile. “If you didn’t already have your restaurant I would have had you here in a heartbeat.”

“Anytime you wish me to cook…” Sydney promises with a grin. She’s spent many hours with your family and has cooked for them plenty of times.

“We might have to have you be a special guest chef for something.” The President smiles. She clearly already has an idea in mind. Sydney is her third daughter and she’s as proud of her as she is of you or June.

“I will cook your next inauguration dinner.” Sydney promises, lifting her glass of iced peach tea as a toast.

“I will take you up on that, young lady,” your mother teases, although everyone knows she isn’t teasing at all.

“Does your family have any special traditions?” Donna asks after a moment. “Beyond the wedding dress? Anything like a cookie table or similar?”

"We did a cookie table when Birdie's father and I got married." Your mother nods, smiling at the memory. "Our family isn't very large, so we don't have a lot of things that have been passed all around or repeated amongst cousins. My parents helped us with the down payment for a house as our wedding present but our kids have already gotten a step ahead in that respect."

“They are amazing.” She agrees with a proud nod. “I have brought something with me that is a Pike tradition.” She informs the table and makes sure she makes eye contact with you. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be continued.”

"Oh my god." Selena breathes from the other side of the table, and she puts one hand on her heart as you tear up instantly.

"I didn't know you were going to bring it," you murmur, having seen enough Pike family wedding photos to know exactly what she's talking about.

“Of course I was going to bring it.” She’s not offended, but she huffs slightly. “I remembered your grandmother’s dress and was hoping even if you decided not to wear it on your wedding day, that we could take a photo of you in the dress with the necklace.” She explains as she reaches down into her purse to pull out a very loved and worn necklace case.

When she hands you the jewelry case you set it very carefully between you on the table and open it up to be able to show Sydney, your mother, and Junie. "I did say I wanted to wear pearls, didn't I?" The necklace itself is ornate and beautiful. A three-strand pearl necklace of natural fresh water pearls in various tones and coordinated sizes that graduate gently at each end. The inner most strand has a stunning fixture of diamonds fashioned like outstretched wings. It can be worn all as one piece, as a double strand of pearls, as just a single pearl strand with the diamond fixture, or the diamond fixture can be removed altogether to become a brooch. Each Pike bride had done something different with the piece to make it her own. "It belonged to Marcus's great-grandmother," you explain to the few people at the table who have never seen the necklace before.

“It’s gorgeous.” Junie coos, falling in love with it. “It’s- oh god, it’s Cartier.” She breathes when she sees the emblem on the box. “Isn’t it?”

"My husband's grandmother was given the necklace as an engagement present," Donna explains, having been proud to wear the piece herself on her own wedding day. She had affixed the diamond brooch to her dress like a badge of honor. "She gave it to her daughter-in-law as engagement gift down the line, and it was leant out to subsequent nieces, cousins, and other granddaughters. It's become tradition for all of the Pike brides to be given the chance to wear the heirloom."

“That is such a lovely tradition.” Your mother comments, finding it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Isn't it?" It's impossible not to fall in love with the story, just like you had when Marcus had shown you the plethora of family pictures and explained the tradition to you.

“It is time to let the necklace rest in the hands of the next generation.” Donna tells you softly. “We want you to have it.”

“To…to wear it.” You clarify, eyes widening to the point of saucers as you look at your future mother-in-law beside you.

“To keep it safe.” Donna clarifies. “The cousins and nieces and nephews may ask you for it to use and as the future Pike “matriarch” I suggest always offering it when someone gets engaged, but I mean for you to keep it going forward.”

“Pike…matriarch?” It hadn’t occurred to you that that would be the case. It truly hadn’t. Marcus has so many cousins and aunts and uncles you had just assumed that that title would go elsewhere. That the responsibility of it would fall to someone else. But you? “I’m—I’m absolutely honored,” you promise her, tearing up at the table as you squeeze her hand tightly.

Smiling at you, she reaches out and touches your face softly. “I am thrilled that Marcus has found you, wonderful you.”

“I didn’t plan on crying today,” you huff, always playfully, when tears start to press at your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not when they’re tears of appreciation and joy and you can lean over to hug your fiancé’s mother tightly. “Your entire family has been so kind and so welcoming. I’m impossibly grateful to all of you.”

“It is easy to be kind when you are amazing.” She promises. “You are supposed to be in this family, it’s….well, it’s fate.” She smiles ironically.

“It is, isn’t it?” Keeping things to just a sniffle is a miracle but you manage it for now with just a dab at the corners of your eyes.

Everyone else smiles at the obvious affection between future mother in law and bride. Your mother is eternally grateful that you have been so welcomed.

“Okay, well that was unexpected.” You wipe your eyes and let yourself have one more good sniffle before looking around the table with a soft grin. “Anyone else planning on making me cry today? I’ll brace myself.”

“Not unless there’s more unexpected news?” Your mother asks, looking around the table.

"I don't think so." Looking around the table makes you laugh. "Unless someone else has something up their sleeves."

“I cannot give you jewels or prestige, but I can offer my assistance with anything you need.” Selena offers.

"You have my bow." Junie jokes, ever the avid Lord of the Rings fan.

"And my axe." Syd snorts, giggling along with her.

“It was supposed to be sword first.” Your mother tsks, shaking her head at Junie, even as she grins. “Sounds like we need to rewatch it.”

"I know it's sword first." Junie complains, though she will never complain about a rewatch of her favourite movies. "But I never took fencing, I took archery. Why would I pledge my sister a weapon I can't wield?"

“My youngest child is so literal.” Your mother snorts, laughing at the offended look on Junie’s face.

"One of us has to be," you grin in amusement. "I've got my head in the clouds and Alex is a gremlin. We need Junie to ground us."

“You are all so very different, but so very alike.” She muses. “All of you amazing in your own way.”

"Oops." June laughs and points her drink in your direction. "Mom is getting sentimental. Quick, somebody else ask a wedding planning question."

“Where will the reception be?” Selena asks.

"Probably the East Room?" You look to your mother for confirmation, but it makes the most sense. It is the largest room in the residence and usually used for dancing and receptions of other kinds. "Would we have dinner in one of the dining rooms and then dancing in the East Room?"

“I believe that would be very fitting considering that is where the ‘First Princess’ photos were taken.” Your mother hums, nodding in agreement. “We must make sure that Marcus recreates that dip for another photo.” It would be for purely personal reasons she would want that.

“I’ll make sure he does.” It would be perfect for the first and last pages of your wedding album to be those photos, and the idea practically makes you sigh with the dreamy feeling in your heart. “So that’s all the wedding locations sorted. The rehearsal dinner is still way up in the air and the Jack and Jill bachelor party is being left up to the wedding party.” Your eyes cut to your three bridesmaids and Sydney, June, and Selena all grin back with false innocence. “But there will be photography so please keep it wholesome. The only other venue is the bridal shower.”

“Where would you want to have a bridal shower?” Selena asks curiously. “There are so many historic sights around here, I can’t help but think that it’s impossible to choose.”

“If we do another historical site, I want to make sure they keep the museum open like they did last night.” There are only a few bites of your salmon left and you already know you’ll be thinking about this meal for weeks to come. “Using historical sights is about recognizing American history and being open to discussing it. I would hate for someone to show up to an event at Ford’s Theater and assume we support presidential assassinations just like I would have hated anyone to show up last night and assume we supported slavery just because we were at the home of someone who had been a slave owner.” You shake your head a bit, knowing that some people will always be contrary. “Maybe a smaller museum that could use a little recognition?”

“What about something for women’s rights?” Sydney asks. “There’s the museum for Women in the Arts and the Women’s Museum.” She offers. “It can be a moment that shows that just because a woman finds her soulmate, that doesn’t mean she looses herself.”

“There are those, and also the Suffrage Museum,” you nod along with the idea.

“You mean Sewall-Belmont House?” Junie perks up immediately. “Technically it’s now the Belmont-Paul Women’s Equality National Monument.” You flash your best friend a grin. We could have a tea party in the museum dedicated to women’s suffrage? They sold tea blends and Held tea parties as part of the rallies during the suffrage movement. Any of those would work.”

“Really?” Donna tilts her head in curiosity and smiles. “That is something that I know nothing about, but it would be fascinating.” She confesses.

“Lets see which of those three would be able to take our numbers and passes the Secret Service’s scrutiny,” your mother suggests. “They would all be wonderful choices.”

Murmurs of agreement sound around the table and then the clinks of the forks on the plates resume as everyone continues to eat. “What about gifts.” Selena asks.

“For the bridal shower?” You cringe, knowing that gifts are traditional but also that you and Marcus can manage. “Ought I to make a registry? Or should everyone just have at it?”

“I think you should.” Your mother nods. “If you aren’t comfortable with the gifts, find a charity you would like contributions to be made to in your honor.”

"We've tossed around a few charities we want to support." It's something that has come up a little more often now that gift giving occasions are on the horizon. "We'll talk it over. But knowing my practical fiancé, he will suggest making a small registry for closest family members and friends, and choosing a charity or two to put on the invitations."

“That sounds like the best kind of compromise.” Sydney admits. “Aunt Mildred isn’t going to want to donate to charity, she wants to gift you an egg platter that will be used twice a year and then displayed with pride.”

You smirk, but nudge your best friend beside you. “So this hypothetical Aunt Mildred…is your mother?”

She snorts and sighs. “How did you guess? The horrible name or the insistence on things being her way?”

“Your mother is as particular as she is old fashioned.” You snort, knowing that particular is a generous description of Syd’s mother. Though she has always been a kind and supportive presence, she does has very strong beliefs.

“Particular.” Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head, although it’s more in fond exasperation than anything else. “Yes, but that particularity will have you something hopelessly needless and ornamental.” She warns.

“And we will treasure it because it’s from her.” After all, Sydney’s mother helped raise you. She’s as much a part of her childhood as your own mother in a lot of ways.

"Mom is in meetings all day, so no fear of your mother-in-law popping in to give her two cents," you tease, as you and Marcus move through the White House residence on a Friday afternoon hours in advance of family dinner. You're meeting with the person that the White House special events staff has designated as your wedding planner for the very first time and trying not to seem nervous. It feels overwhelming to start this planning right in the midst of the holiday season but it has to get done. And the sooner the decisions are made, hopefully the easier the rest of the wedding preparations will be.

Marcus snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re the one who said I couldn’t use my badge.” He reminds you, winking as his arm loops around your waist.

"Because I want that ace in the hole, my love." You grin back at him and lean into his side, putting your arm around his waist in turn and giggling. "If anything goes truly sideways, that's when we use the badge."

“FBI, madam,” Marcus drawls seriously. “Did you insist on the color puce for a wedding color?!”

The snort you let out echoes in the halls of the residence and you're still giggling when you turn into the China Room. "I think navy and gold were good choices. Nice and simple. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel here."

“And it’s a play on red, white and blue.” Marcus observes. “The red will come from the roses in the Rose Garden and then gold for the white and of course, navy.”

"The white will surely be your bride, won't it?" Annette is already in the room, sitting with her notebook and phone out on the table in front of her. "Miss Sharma is on her way. She's just coming from a meeting with your father and I'm sure he has given her a few things to consider that he wants for your wedding."

Marcus smile as he nods towards Annette. “Good to see you again. And yes, she will be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

"There's no need for flattery, you two." But you still hum happily and sit down at the table with Marcus and Annette. "We're all the most interested in having a day that runs both beautifully and smoothly."

“I have two goals.” Marcus tells you. “Well, one goal.” He corrects. “Marry you. As long as that happens, the day is perfect.”

"Was there another one in debate?" The chairs are too far apart for you to lean into his side, so you take his hand and weave your fingers together instead.

“I had thought to have a water fight in the Rose Garden.” He jokes. “But I don’t the secret service would like a game of hide and seek.”

"I might put it on the schedule just to see them panic." Amelia Sharma is a tall, poised, and right now very amused woman who sweeps in to the room with a chuckle. She introduces herself but doesn't stand on much ceremony, plopping down in the chair between you and Annette. "We have quite a lot of work ahead of us. A few jokes will help us keep our heads on straight."

Marcus laughs as he watches her pull out a planner and it’s a wonderful idea. He bites his lip and wonders if it might be a keepsake you and he could have after the wedding is over. “Despite the magnitude of the wedding, we are really pretty simple people.”

"That might be the other thing that will keep our heads on straight," you admit, watching the woman get settled. As is habitual in your mother's White House, there is a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snacks on the table but for now you just reach to pour yourself a glass of tea. "We're not terribly picky, or high maintenance, or any of that. All we want is a nice day with our friends and family."

“There will be a few other guests as well.” Annette reminds you. “But only few.”

"Do you have the list of official guests?" The guest list from the White House was meant to be approved by your mother early on and adjusted as economics and politics demanded, but you have been curious about a first draft.

“You have final say.” Amelia pulls a sheet of paper out of the planner and hands it to you.

Dignitaries and representatives from other governments are all represented as you suspected them to be. Members of your mother's cabinet. The new governor of Pennsylvania and her family. A few token members of important families. But no celebrities or donors or anything that doesn't make immediate sense as you look over the list.

“Does it look alright?” Marcus asks you, knowing that you are much more knowledgeable on the political side than he is.

“I never thought I would have to curtsy to anyone at my wedding, you admit, Running your finger along the names of the various retrial families on the list before you look back up at Annette and Amelia. “Do we think any of the royals will actually show, or just send a nice card?”

“They might arrange an upcoming tour of the US to coincide.” Annette tells you with a smile. “Although you could cause tongue to wag by not curtsying.”

“I don’t object to it,” you clarify immediately, thinking of all the scuttlebutt that would happen if you didn’t do something as silly as curtsy. “It sounds like a cute photo op actually. The First Princess and the Actual Princess.”

“I think I would like to see that.” Marcus agrees with a fond smile. “It would be a beautiful photo op.”

“You know what that makes you?” The sly grin on your lips for your fiancé isn’t subtle, nor is the sparkle in your eyes. “Prince Charming.”

He snorts and shrugs, “I’ve never denied that.” He teases playfully.

“Some will accept and some will not.” Amelia Sharma smiles, mostly because she can tell you’re nervous. “But those who will souls be given a bit more attention than your standard courtesy invitation.”

“It doesn’t matter who is there.” Marcus tells you. “All that matters is that those we love are there, celebrating our happiness. Everyone else is just white noise.”

“We just want the flowers inside to complement the fact that our ceremony is being held in the Rose Garden.” It feels like a foreign language to you, talking to this florist, and you curse the fact that Marcus had been called out of the country on a case as you sit here with your wedding planning the florist’s shop wishing you knew what the hell you were talking about.

Marcus bites his lip, his alarm going off to remind him of the flower appointment. “Excuse me, I need to make a call back to the States.” Interpol doesn’t need to know that it’s not to his boss, so Marcus closes the door on the small office he’s been allowed to use and pulls out his phone.

It’s a miracle when your phone goes off in the middle of trying to find your voice with the florist. Oh thank god, you think with a sigh. “This is my fiancé,” you explain, and set your phone in the table in front of you to answer it. “Hi honey! You have perfect timing.”

“Have you already met with the florist?” He asks, happy to hear your voice and he thinks he hears a little bit of relief in your tone.

“We all just sat down,” you tell him, wishing you could just reach through the phone and hug him. “I was just telling Theresa about the Rose Garden, and Amelia is here with us as well.”

“So I’ve been doing some research….” Marcus admits with a smile in his tone.

“Oh?” Theresa, the florist, sounds impressed that a groom would be doing more research about flowers than the bride.

“We have colors for our wedding. Navy and gold, so I was thinking that we use marigolds, azure aster and baby’s breath for the bouquets.” He suggests. “They complement the roses in the garden and still have their own beauty.”

“We can certainly start there,” the florist hums, nodding along and starting to scribble down in her notebook. “We’ll get some height out of other flowers in the same color scheme, but this is a beautiful beginning. Bringing real color to the palette is much more lively than working with a monochromatic look and I think you’ll be very pleased with it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped because you and he hadn’t had a long discussion about flowers yet.

“I think it’s an utter relief,” you promise him with a laugh. “I had absolutely no idea of how to approach flowers and you’ve solved it in one go.”

“I spent the flight hooked up to the WiFi and researching flowers.” He admits with a laugh. “I just didn’t want you to have to think about this alone. If you hate it, that’s fine, but let the florist put something together like that to see, hum?”

“I’m absolutely on board.” And relieved — absolutely, entirely relieved. “You didn’t happen to have a thought about my bouquet, did you?”

“Actually…” Marcus chuckles and shrugs even though no one can see him. “I thought you could have something non-traditional and yet it would be a quiet statement in official portraits. What if you were to carry a bouquet of olive branches?”

“I could certainly use olive branches as greenery in your bouquet instead of the usual accents,” the florist offers, interested by the choice.

“You’re thinking of the official seal, aren’t you, love?” You ask Marcus over the phone, and hum slightly at the idea. It’s a nice homage without going crazy. “What if we used olive branches and laurel branches as the greenery for our flowers?” You offer after a moment. “Laurel are in the Seal of the President.”

“It would be a statement.” He agrees, having thought laurels might have been too bold, but the two of them together might be the ticket. “Especially since your mother is working hard to achieve peace.”

“And the day is a peaceful one.” Amelia smiles at the sentiment, nodding in approval. “After the turmoil you dealt with early on, it will be nice to have your day for happiness.”

“Yes.” Turmoil, you think with a polite smile. That’s one word for it. “Maybe for my bouquet we can use those greens and an assortment of white flowers? White versions of the things that we’re using in the other arrangements, and of course roses and dahlias and camellias. Things like that?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling softly as you start to interject your own thoughts into the process.

“And what about the boutonnieres?” The florist is now taking rapid notes. “How many members of your wedding party will there be?”

“Honey?” Marcus speaks again. “Did we decide on four or five?”

“We said four, didn’t we?” You look down at the phone as though you were simply looking at him in conversation. “You have Juan, Alex, Leo, and Clark?” Originally Marcus had asked his father if he would want to be a groomsman, but after a long discussion Matthew had insisted that Marcus choose his friends that are nearby and truly enjoy himself.

“That’s right.” Marcus huffs. “You’re completely right, I forgot. There would be five total, four for the groomsmen and I would like a boutonniere that matches the bride’s bouquet. I think there should be a subtle difference between the arrangements, right?”

“Absolutely.” The florist nods, continuing to scribble. “I can do further simplified pieces for the fathers and the ring bearer if you would like?”

“Definitely.” It sounds very sweet, actually, to have everyone unified like that. “Our ring bearer is an adult, for the record. A very close friend. So the only child in the wedding party is our flower girl.”

“Will the child be holding a bouquet as well?” She asks and for some reason that makes Marcus laugh through the phone.

“Our goddaughter will only be a year old, so I’m not planning on testing her coordination with a bouquet and a basket of flower petals,” you answer as kindly as you can with Marcus giggling over the phone.

“Sorry, I’m just imagining Constance flapping the bouquet in Malachi’s face as he carries her down the aisle.” He snorts.

“Honestly?” You giggle right along with him but offer your florist and wedding planner an apologetic grin. “That alone might make it worthwhile.”

“I’m here!” Sydney opens the door three inches and shoves her lips inside, the days of just popping in without announcing are over now that Marcus lives here. She’s not willing to risk walking in on something she shouldn’t see. “Put your clothes on.”

“Marcus is out with my Dad,” you huff at your best friend, but laugh anyway. “I’m fully dressed and presentable. But don’t come in, we need to scoot out if we’re going to meet Selena, our sisters, and my Mom at the dress shop.”

“Sorry.” She knows she’s the one running behind. Getting out the door has become practically impossible with Constance here now. “Let’s go.”

“Honey do not even apologize.” You grab your coat and grin to find Agent Bailey already ready to go.

“I’ll drive,” she offers, shooing you toward the elevator. “You two enjoy your gossip and baby pictures on the ride.”

“Thanks.” She flashes the agent a grin. “I only took ninety-seven photos this morning. Quite modest.”

“I can’t believe it’s dress shopping time already.” As the three of you head down in the elevator, you snag Sydney’s arm and tug her close in your excitement. The January chill has done nothing to quell your excitement, but it does mean you’re definitely wearing knee high boots with your plaid dress today instead of heels. “This dress shop is amazing and I’m so excited to see what you guys like.”

“How have your fittings been going with your grandmother’s dress?” She asks, knowing how careful you are being with altering the heirloom. You had taken Junie with you to make sure she approved.

“It’s going to be pretty perfect.” The elevator ride evaporates on a sigh and a laugh, and in mere minutes you’re sliding into Agent Bailey’s car. “It will be tea length, so the mission is to find dresses for the four of you that are the same or shorter.”

“You might be the first bride in history that wants her bridesmaids to have a sexier dress than she does.” Sydney teases, making Agent Bailey chuckle softly as she pulls out of the inn’s driveway.

"Knee length dresses can be perfectly modest," you huff, but you know she's right. "The place we're going is run by a pair of cousins, and they make modern interpretations of vintage dresses. I think we're going to find something fantastic. At least...I hope we will."

“I know we will.” She predicts. “This wedding planning has been super easy. Who could have guessed that Marcus would have been so engaged in the entire process?” Her comment is sarcastic because all of them knew it, but it’s still fun to point out that your soul mate is also carrying around bridal magazines in his briefcase.

"Actually?" Glancing over at her in the car, you smirk to hold back a joyous giggle. "He's the one who had the idea for the bridesmaid dresses that I think I'm going to go with."

The little dress shop in downtown DC is just that — little — but the ladies who run it are endlessly sweet and accommodating. Your group just about fills the entire shop and there are Secret Service agents to boot, so the shop owners have elected to have their place open late today to accommodate your group as a private party.

It might actually be the most fun you e had with any wedding planning trip ever. You and Sydney join your mother, June, Selena, and Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh to round out your bridesmaids— on top of having your wedding planner present — and everyone has mimosas to make the whole thing even more fun.

“Have you decided what color you would like the bridesmaids’ dresses, or are you still going to choose what you like best?” Your mother asks, happy to be able to be here after all the meetings this morning. Nothing but a national crisis would have prevented her from coming.

“I’m hoping we can find dresses for everyone that work in navy blue, but if we can’t then that’s fine.” You’re not going to be a bridezilla about your wedding colors. The groomsmen have all already ordered suits in navy with a gold pocket square so your colors are represented there. “I want you all to wear things that make you feel beautiful. Marcus had a thought that I agree with — that we should pick a color, a fabric type, and a length that everyone can agree on. And then everyone can have a dress in their own style that coordinates instead of completely matching.”

“Ohhhh interesting.” Junie lights up and nods. “I think that would be great, although, there’s a lot of beautiful things here.”

“If you all fall in love with the same dress, then that’s fine,” you look around at your bridesmaids with an utter softness in your expression, just glad to have you friends and your sister here. “But I’m not going to force you to match.”

Sydney smirks at Junie, both of them aware of the conversation that had been had without you about how you were all going to match for this wedding.

“Why don’t we start with the navy blue options and see what we like?” Your consultant today is one of the shop’s owners and she is nothing but smiles with the large group in her shop.

“Of course.” It’s absolutely thrilling to have the President and her daughter in their shop and the owners are here to personally oversee the day, giving you the privacy you need without the additional staff here. “We will pull all the styles we have available and we can order any size needed and make alterations.”

“Do you guys want to do a fashion show?” It’s a fully rhetorical question. You know these four women and you know they absolutely live for frivolous shopping trips and the endorphins of being silly with friends. This trip might be for a real event, but it still has that air of frivolity that shopping for prom dresses did back when you were teenagers. “I’m going to sit with Mom and Amelia and we’ll go through the best of the navy blue choices first?”

“Yes!” Junie immediately volunteers, shooting up out of her seat in excitement. “I put on my good bra too.”

"Come on, Junebug." Sydney tugs your baby sister toward the racks of dresses and nudges you firmly in the other direction. "Sit," she urges you. "Drink. Chat. Let us do the work for once."

"Oo!" AnnaLeigh, already in the racks of dresses, is gasping over a discovery. "I found one with a lace top!"

She pulls the dress out with a flourish and four bridesmaids immediately coo over the pretty dress. “I think you should try it on first.” Junie tells her.

“Everybody picks a different dress and we let Birdie pick, right?” Selena murmurs, her eyes already sliding to a satin swing dress that looks straight out of the 1950s.

“Agreed.” Sydney sees where Selena is heading and her own browsing bypasses that and goes directly for a beautiful sleeveless number.

It takes several minutes to get everyone coordinated, but when all four of your bridesmaids disappear into changing rooms there is a collective squealing and another moment’s pause before they emerge again in all their glory.

“Oh my…” your mother whispers, her gaze full of love and adoration for the vision in front of her. She loves Junie with all her heart, Sydney is the closest thing to a child she has beyond her biological children and of course she adores Syd’s sister and Selena. “You all look perfect.”

“Oh my god!” Knowing that your friends have excellent taste might have been a little bit of a tactic on your part, and setting them loose to pick the first round of dresses was a fantastic choice. “Okay, you all look amazing. But how do you feel? Comfortable? Like you can dance and move and sit without trouble?”

Every woman starts swinging the dresses around playful and moving. Junie and Selena dance to no music and all of them laugh.

“What about sitting?” Choosing between any of the four dresses they’ve chosen will be impossible unless you put on a critical eye. The dress Junie has on is the right length on her, but your petite little sister is considerably shorter than the other three. And the dress can’t be elongated to fit them.

There are chairs and all four of them sit down with great aplomb, grinning happily. The dresses feel right.

“I swear, if you all tell me you found the perfect dresses first thing…” Looking between them, it certainly seems that way. As though they have all magically found perfection without any effort at all.

“What? That we have time for you to try on your dress with the alterations started?” Junie challenges with a grin. “Don’t you think you should see what a rough look like it will be, all together?”

“Is it safe?” You have to let the shopkeeper make the call on that decision. The reason you found this shop was that they specialize in working with vintage pieces as well as selling vintage-inspired designs, so it had been sort of a one stop shop for you in terms of planning.

“Yes.” She smiles at the wistful hope in your eyes and knows that she can’t say no. The hem has been pinned and as long as you aren’t careless with it, it will be good to get a final fitting with it. “We can go get it from the back.”

“I really didn’t expect to put it on today.” Which is evidenced by the fact that you didn’t even think to wear a strapless bra today, but it doesn’t matter. It will be beautiful regardless.

Junie smirks and shakes her head. “You have to.” She insists. “One picture with all of us right now.”

“Do you guys really love these dresses? You’re not just saying that?” Looking at the four of them, you can’t help but get a touch misty-eyed as Selena pulls you up on the dais with them to look in the mirror together. “Because you all look stunning, but you really don’t have to pick after the first round.”

“I love mine.” Selena snorts. “This is the one I want.” The others hum and nod in agreement. “Yeah, this is the one for me.”

“What kind of jewelry are you thinking?” AnnaLeigh asks, gleefully swishing her skirt in the mirror.

“I was thinking…pearls maybe?” Meeting all of their eyes in the mirror, you have four beaming smiles gleaming back at you. “But the other wedding color is gold, so maybe…maybe pearls and gold? But those are going to be gifts for you four. Thank you gifts, for being a part of all of this.”

“You don’t have to give us anything.” Sydney automatically protests, but she knows you will do it anyway.

“No.” You know that, but you squeeze your best friend to your side. “But I want to.”

“But we just want to lodge a formal protest.” Her sister chimes in with a grin. “So we are going to buy our bridesmaids dresses.”

“Absolutely not.” Shaking your head at that adamantly, all four of them shoot you a stern look in the mirror. “You guys, no,” you insist, nudging them all. “Get your own shoes. Whatever height you like. Be comfortable and pick something fun. Gold or blue, you guys decide as a group. But…Mom already offered to pay for the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“You’re no fun.” Sydney huffs, turning towards the President and rolling her eyes at your mother. “The presidential purse, hum?”

“The regular purse,” your mother laughs. You’ve allowed her this one little thing to do personally, while most of the wedding expenses are being covered by a combined force of contributions. “You all look stunning, and I want the bragging right of saying I got all of these beautiful dresses for you.”

“Mrs. Pike?” The shop owner has a little habit of calling all the brides by the future marital name and it makes you beam. “We are ready for you to try on the dress.”

“Here goes nothing.” You grin at your friends in the mirror and slip away to change, practically floating with the glow of two little words. Mrs. Pike. In just eight months, that is exactly who you will be.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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ala-baguette · 5 months

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Could you tell us more about Kingsleys fondness and protectiveness of Harry. Love u to bits xxxx

What’s that? A Kingsley Shacklebolt meta, you say? Don’t mind if I do!

A relatively common and much-loved comment I get from some of my readers is that they never gave Kingsley much of a second thought before reading Knowing Where to Look. Let’s change that, because I need company in over-thinking about random side characters. Plus, I find Kingsley Shacklebolt so damn cool and other people should too! For such a small character who is mostly just in the background throughout canon, I am always so impressed by the volumes of information one can glean from his tiny one sentence lines. So, let’s start by looking at a few of these moments.

I’ll begin with the first time we meet him in Order of the Phoenix where he is part of the Advance Guard. I remember just falling in love with Kingsley right from the first time I read this chapter at roughly 2am the night the book was released. A few notable lines I present for consideration:

“‘Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus […] He looks exactly like, James.’”

“‘A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,’ said Lupin as though he had read Harry’s mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.”

“‘Remus says you’re a good flier,’ said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice. ‘He’s excellent,’ said Lupin […]”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler […]”

“‘I’m just telling the boy the plan,’ growled Moody. ‘Our job’s to deliver him safely to headquarters, and if we die in the attempt—’ ‘No one’s going to die,’ said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice.”

Information I infer from this first encounter:

Kingsley is highly trusted by Dumbledore and the rest of the Order despite having only been a member for a month or so. (I’m fairly certain he was not in the Order during the first war.)

Kingsley knew James on a personal level. He’s on a first-name basis, he remembers his appearance well, and Remus would have had no other reason to comment that Harry looked like him if he did not.

Kingsley is curious about Harry—likely in part secondary to Harry’s fame, but also, I suspect, on a more personal level (whether his apparent past relationship with James or his current one with Remus and Sirius).

Remus talks about Harry when Harry’s not around (I could probably write a whole meta on this sad and sweet observation, but I shall resist and stick to the topic at hand). We’ll come back to this.

He’s pure-blood or at least was raised with minimal exposure to Muggle technology.

He’s calm and level-headed and not afraid to call out melodrama, though he’ll do so patiently, respectfully, and gently.

We have several smaller encounters going forward in OotP that I also find telling:

“[Kingsley and Mr. Weasley] were talking to each other as though they hardly knew each other. […] ‘Here,’ said Kingsley brusquely to Mr. Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand, ‘I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We’ve received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle.’ Kinglsey tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, ‘Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting.’ Then he said in normal tones, ‘And don’t take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held up our investigation for a month.’”

“‘Molly, I’ll be late, I’m covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner—'”

Harry caught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter. ‘—why Dumbledore didn’t make Potter a prefect?” said Kingsley. ‘He’ll have had his reasons,’ replied Lupin. ‘But it would’ve shown confidence in him. It’s what I’d’ve done,’ persisted Kingsley. ‘’specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days…’

“Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius’s duel with Bellatrix.”

“‘Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Remus Lupin were all at headquarters [with Sirius] when [Snape] made contact.’”

My take-aways:

Kingsley has a good poker-face and can act a part that is required of him.

Kingsley is kind and considerate. He goes out of his way to send Sirius a copy of the Quibbler with an article featuring Sirius/Stubby Boardman, for no other reason than to make Sirius smile in a time when Sirius had precious little to smile about. Kingsley, in other words, is a big ol’ sweetie.

Kingsley drops in for dinner and any little festivities that happen at headquarters or with the Weasleys a few times throughout the series and is clearly welcomed any time, even when not truly on Order business. Along with this, I speculate he doesn’t have much by way of family or close personal connections outside of his friends at the Order.

Even when he has only just met Harry, Kingsley is already concerned for his feelings (not just his physical safety) when Dumbledore doesn’t make Harry a prefect. He is observant enough to notice that Harry is out of sorts and disappointed, which no other character particularly seems to notice. He’s already attuned to Harry’s moods even then.

Also from this same moment, we see that Kingsley is one of the few characters who doesn’t seem to entirely blindly assume everything Dumbledore does is best. He doubts Dumbledore’s judgment when he doesn’t make Harry a prefect. What else might he doubt?

Kingsley is brave and loyal. He jumps in to duel with the most ruthless Death Eater present who just killed his friend. Later, he does it again with Voldemort who he believes has just killed Harry.

Moody, Tonks, Remus, Sirius, and Kingsley are often described together. From their interactions, I see these five having a particular bond, beyond that of simply colleagues. They’re friends. What do all of Kingsley’s friends have in common? (1) They all have affection for Harry they show in one form or another throughout the series. (2) They all die. I’ll let that sit for a moment—we’ll come back to it.

Now we come to The Half Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows:

“‘I’m not getting rid of Kingsley Shacklebolt, if that’s what you’re suggesting!’ said the Prime Minister hotly. ‘He’s highly efficient, gets through twice the work as the rest of them—’”

“‘All right,’ [Uncle Vernon] said, stopping in front of Harry yet again. ‘All right, let’s say, for the sake of argument, we accept this protection. I still don’t see why we can’t have that Kingsley bloke.’ Harry managed not to roll his eyes, but with difficulty. This question had also been addressed half a dozen times. ‘As I’ve told you,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘Kingsley is protecting the Mug—I mean, your Prime Minister.’ ‘Exactly— he’s the best!’ said Uncle Vernon, pointing at the blank television screen. The Dursleys had spotted Kingsley on the news, walking along discreetly behind the Muggle Prime Minister as he visited a hospital. This, and the fact that Kingsley had mastered the knack of dressing like a Muggle, not to mention a certain reassuring something in his slow, deep voice, had caused the Dursleys to take to Kingsley in a way that they had certainly not done with any other wizard, although it was true that they had never seen him with his earring in.”

“‘Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral—’ Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsley’s smile.

“Kingsley showed no pleasure at the sight of any of them. Over Hermione’s shoulder, Harry saw him raise his wand and point it at Lupin’s chest. ‘The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?’ ‘Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,’ said Lupin calmly. […] ‘All right, all right!’ said Kingsley, stowing his wand back beneath his cloak. ‘But someone betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!’ ‘So it seems,’ replied Lupin, ‘but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys.’ ‘Small comfort!’ snarled Kingsley.

“‘Now they’ve put a Taboo on [Voldemort’s name], anyone who says it is trackable—quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley—' ‘You’re kidding?’ ‘Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said, but he fought his way out. He’s on the run now, just like us.’

“‘I’d like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken.’ ‘And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be Wizards first?’ asked Lee. ‘I’d say that it’s one short step from Wizards first to Purebloods first, and then to Death Eaters,’ replied Kingsley. ‘We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.’

“[…] Kingsley had stepped forward on the raised platform to address those who had remained behind [to take part in the Battle of Hogwarts]. ‘We’ve only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix.’

“Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once.”

“One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered toward him, and the first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and Harry could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing him, pulling him, trying to hug some part of him […]”

Observations:

Kingsley is likeable and has a skill for garnering trust. Both the Prime Minister and Uncle Vernon trust him despite having a general dislike for wizard-kind.

Kingsley is clever and adaptable and a good actor. We see fascination with a microwave in OotP suggesting he had minimal exposure to the Muggle world, but by DH, he is already able to play the part of a Muggle, dress like them, and conform to their society, something that the likes of Arthur Weasley, who has obsessively studied Muggles for years, never manages. He even knows enough to take out his earing (which he otherwise always seems to wear) to better appeal to the Dursleys conservative views.

A small speculation to which we can never know an answer but… Given that he knew Harry was listening, is it possible Kingsley’s choice of security question for Remus was intentionally chosen to offer Harry a little assurance that they had faith in him?

Kingsley is constantly described as calm and cool throughout all sorts of strife in the series, be he is not entirely unflappable. After the Battle of the Seven Potters, the man is visibly livid, and I love it! At no other time do we see so many exclamation marks in his speech. He has suddenly been forced to face the possibility that one of his friends betrayed them, and he is not okay! Even after this speech, he is totally flustered: he laughs derisively at Hermione’s naivety in an uncharacteristically impatient way; he seems panicked when he hears Voldemort had gone after Harry directly; he’s pacing the yard in a way that reminds Harry of Uncle Vernon as they’re waiting for the others to come back; he nearly comes to blows when Arthur arrives and is trying to get past him to see George… Can someone just please give the man a hug? (Obviously, this is a trait I’ve exploited in KwtL. Betrayal by a friend is definitely a sore spot for him.)

The Trio sees Kingsley as untouchable. Hermione’s relieved to be paired with him when they leave the Dursley’s house (and to not have to ride a broom). Harry’s shocked to hear of him in hiding in much the same way they are. They’re thrilled when they hear him speaking on the radio. They have unwavering awe and respect for Kingsley.

Again, I speculate that Kingsley doesn’t have a romantic partner or children. When Kingsley goes on the run, there is no mention of family which would have been a big concern if he had one.

Kingsley has a strong sense of morality and a drive to stand up for those weak and defenseless. Despite the fact that his blood status and that his family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would likely allow him to simply sit out the war safely, he’s still in the midst of it, constantly fighting for the little guy.

Kingsley is a natural leader, but he really only takes up the mantel when he has to (ie, Dumbledore and Moody are dead and the Order is leaderless)

Just another reminder that Kingsley dueled Voldemort and he’s a badass.

Kingsley is one of the first to rush to Harry after he’s defeated Voldemort. He’s listed among all the people who love Harry most. (Shut up, I’m not crying, you’re crying.)

So we come to what is perhaps more your question, kind Anon. What is Harry and Kingsley’s relationship like post-war. As you point out, I write him as having fondness and protectiveness for Harry right from the beginning of Knowing Where to Look, and I have had readers challenge me (kindly) that Harry and Kingsley really weren’t that close in canon.

I’ll agree that Harry was not close with Kingsley, but I’m here to argue that that’s not entirely true the other way around. I think there’s subtle hints that Kingsley was fond and protective of Harry in canon. Whenever Kingsley knew Harry was in danger, he came running. I don’t think that was just duty to the Order. There’s a personal component there as well.

We know that at least Remus and likely Sirius spoke of Harry amongst other Order members. Before he even met Harry, Kingsley would have heard about Harry in ways that most strangers would not have heard of him. It’s almost certain he knew many of the details of Harry’s experience in the graveyard when Voldemort returned (most all Order members would have been briefed on this when the Order was reestablished). He had likely heard tales from Sirius and Remus of how Harry braved Dementors and werewolves and time travel to rescue Sirius. Maybe even rumors of his exploits with the Chamber of Secrets and the Philosopher’s Stone which Remus may have picked up from other professors when he taught at Hogwarts. Remus even spoke of Harry enough to have mentioned that he looked like James— something that would have had no bearing on the mission. The point is, the people surrounding Kingsley loved Harry, and I think that affection would naturally have bled into him just from the types of stories they were likely to tell about him.

Then, all those people who surrounded Kingsley and who loved Harry die. I think it’s very natural that as his friends— who were all so committed to protecting Harry— all died one-by-one, Kingsley would have taken up that mantel and felt the need to protect him in their place. Even if it wasn’t one hundred percent from his own personal affection at first, he would have felt this a duty he owed his departed friends who all died in the name of keeping Harry safe. After Harry emerges from hiding, older and more independent than ever, I think it would have been challenging for Kingsley to accept that Harry is not that kid he needs to protect (hence his sometimes-unwelcome paternal instincts in KwtL). Furthermore, given my theory that he is without family and especially after the loss of so many Order friends and colleagues, post-war Kingsley may have been a little starved for affection himself which may have encouraged him to reach out more to Harry as he struggled with the isolation of his position of power.

In conclusion, Kingsley loves Harry, and no one can convince me otherwise. He’s prepared to give up his career for him, and though Harry would be completely devastated to know it, he’s prepared to give up his life for him.

(A few random and less-related but perhaps still interesting headcanons: As I mentioned above, I doubt he is married or has children. I headcanon him married to his job and decidedly single and generally fine with that (who knows, maybe even aroace?). I know his age is never really stated or implied, but I headcanon him to be a few years older than the Mauraders. His vibe in the books just says forty-something for some reason. My completely unfounded headcanon is that the Shacklebolt and Potter Families were friends—Kingsley’s and James’s parents moved in the same social circles, throwing Kingsley and James together enough growing up to be friendly but not besties. Friendly enough that he may have attended Lily and James’s wedding, for example, but not so friendly as to have followed him into the Order the first time around. Again, these bits are purely my imagination and yes have no real importance to the story.)

Thanks for the Ask, Anon! I clearly have thought way too much about this. I hope you enjoy the insights into how my brain builds on characterization as I’m writing some of these smaller side-characters. Love ya back!

#kingsley shacklebolt #character analysis #meta #harry potter headcanon #knowing where to look

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acourtofthought · 30 days

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Sarah telling us in an interview Elain and Lucien are happiest in nature. Writes in her book how they both come alive in nature. Sarah telling us in an interview that her husband is her biggest cheerleader. Writes into her book how Lucien (not Az) gives Elain credit for killing the king. Sarah telling us in an interview that she asks herself questions in regards to mating bonds, is there choice? Is it fate? Or is it both? Writes into her book that there is choice in bonds then has every single main character mated pair end up happy and in love together proving that it's both and gives an explanation for why some secondary characters were not well suited (because the male was cold and vicious - something we don't need to worry about with Lucien). Sarah telling us in an interview that her husband takes care of her, making sure she's fed. Writes Rhys, Cassian, Lucien, expressing concern over their mate not eating enough. Sarah telling us in an interview that she makes sure her FMC's end up with who they need to be with to offer them the most growth. Writes into SF Az trying to hold Elain back from achieving any sort of growth. Sarah telling us in an interview that there is someone special for Lucien down the road and that she did not put Nesta with Lucien as she once thought she might because they'd cause one another more harm. Reveals Elain as Lucien's mate in the series. Sarah telling us in an interview about the issues with toxic male masculinity in regards to how Tamlin treated Feyre. Writes Az going off about how Lucien isn't good enough, that if Graysen is killed good riddance, that he'd defeat Lucien with little effort and seems not at all concerned about risking the peace of their entire lands, that Elain is too pure and trusting for his dirty self and has him speak against her wishes to search for the Trove. Sarah telling us in interviews how Josh has stood by her side through her darkest times. Writes how Az ignored Elain for the first weeks of her depression, even drawing straws to avoid guarding her while Lucien fought across courts without his magic to make it to Elain's side. Once there he spent time in a place he knew he wasn't wanted, knew she was in love with someone else, all to help pull her out of her depression by demanding they get her outside and suggesting they have a healer look her over. Later writes Lucien giving Elain the space to return to Graysen, giving her the space not to have to make a decision about their bond because he believes it's what she wanted (just like Rhys once did for Feyre when it came to Tamlin) all while Az ignores Elain for an entire year because he can't stand that he didn't get a bond.

I'll take the author's words over a random journalist or those on the other side of the fandom any day.

Sarah is a MILLIONAIRE because of her fated mates stories yet some really want act like she doesn't know what she's doing? 😂 I think she and her bank would laugh if they could hear that.

#lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien #anti e/riel #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #fated mates author for the win

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gxthicupid · 2 months

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𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗢 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗱 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 + 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦

𝗡𝗘 𝗭𝗛𝗔 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬

I know this theory has been talked about a lot, but I would like to put my own thoughts and opinions about Ne Zha’s age. Of course, Ne Zha died at the age of 12, yet in the series; considered to be a somewhat spin-off/sequel to the Journey to the West novel, he appears to be physically an adult.

Understandably, some people wanted to defend the idea of Ne Zha physically and mentally grown since Journey to the West by using other country’s beliefs of Ne Zha depicted as an adult, however, other countries still depict Ne Zha as a child, and the crew for LEGO Monkie Kid revealed he was canonically a child during Season 4, Episode 5 “The Court of the Yellow-Robed Demon”. This leaves to the question of how he managed to appear older.

I have been pondering on the idea for quite some time, and while going through several posts of people’s headcanons, references from other media depicting the other characters from Journey to the West, I have come to a conclusion.

To support this theory, I will be using Macaque as an example to answer the mystery behind Ne Zha’s sudden ageing in LEGO Monkie Kid. It has become abundantly clear Macaque has a missing eye, and in the Season 3, Episode 8, “Benched”, while trying to retrieve the third Samadhi Ring from Tang, for a split second, the tip of his tail becomes slightly white.

While going through fanart, people often depict Macaque, having glamorised his looks in order to hide his features (i.e., his scarred eye). Saying that, I believe Ne Zha has adapted to glamorise his child form into an adult form, possibly from wanting to fit his mental age physically and feel comfortable. Macaque so far, hasn’t shown his true form for a prologue time, I believe Nezha can hold his adult form without any difficulty.

𝗠𝗞’𝗦 𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗥𝗬

Season 5 of LEGO Monkie Kid is bound to show Nuwa, or MK’s supposed mother, on the show. Most people are wanting Nuwa to be a loving and caring mother, however, I do not believe that will be the case considering the direction the show is taking on MK’s backstory.

In the Season 4 special “Emperor’s Wrath”, the Kings of Hell in the Underworld are shown to be devising a plan for the upcoming events for Season 5, and personally, I believe Nuwa will be some sort of secondary villain associated with the main plot in Season 5.

I am predicting that Nuwa has some strong connections, or at the very least, is acquainted with the Kings of Hell. Perhaps in the past, the Kings of Hell held a grudge against Sun Wukong after erasing his name from the Book of the Dead.

They weren’t able to change the pages since the paper magically link to the people whose names are written, and possibly, recreating a new set of paper will negatively affect the other people’s mortality; which the Kings of Hell are not willing to risk.

Leading to the Kings of Hell requesting the aid of the creator of humans, Nuwa, since the residents of the Celestial Realm are not going to approve such a dire plan without the approval of the Jade Emperor.

Maybe the Kings of Hell gained Nuwa’s interest throughout a promise with a type of reward at the end of deal, and making her create a lifeform with equal or stronger power than Sun Wukong.

From the flashback in Season 4 Episode 6, “Show Me The Monster'', there were several stone statues of various animals before the creation of MK (hinting there were several attempts to create the perfect lifeform).

The idea of creating MK as a mystic monkey probably links to the Journey to the West novel, in the chapter where Macaque shapeshifted into the Monkey King and deceives the other pilgrims; and before the reveal of the Six-Eared Macaque, it was stated that the imposter was close to Sun Wukong’s power level, which, I’m assuming, Nuwa took note.

Since Season 4 has hinted that Sun Wukong had some sort of connection with MK before he was created, I am predicting that he possibly knew Nuwa as a friend before she became an acquaintance with the Kings of Hell. Nuwa used that relationship as an advantage to analyse his skills and powers, while discussing using Sun Wukong as a pawn to help MK to be trained by the Monkey King, in order for MK to unlock his powers later in life.

Reasoning why I believe Sun Wukong isn’t aware of Nuwa is supported in the Season 4 special, “Emperor’s Wrath”, when Azure Lion was defeated, Sun Wukong questioned him who set him free from the Scroll of Memory, and Azure Lion had no recollection.

Supporting this theory, judging the age of MK when he first met Pigsy in Season 4, Episode 6, “Show Me The Monster”, he seemed to be around the age of 5 years old, which when he should some remembered of Nuwa or Sun Wukong to some degree, but it’s possibly she must have erased MK’s memories. This might be an ability that she might use in Season 5.

Nuwa must have deceived Sun Wukong somehow to convince him to protect MK when he proves himself to have potential to become Sun Wukong’s successor, not only to allow MK’s abilities to develop and become stronger, but she might also use MK to spy on the Monkey King from afar.

To support this theory, I will use the 5th Anniversary LEGO set of Monkie Kid, as Nuwa is seen to be in disguise while running a jade shop in Megapolis. Perhaps she purposely dropped MK off at Pisgy’s Noodles and lived around the city to observe MK and waited until he was ready to wield the staff. Sun Wukong must have done the same, but without the knowledge of Nuwa’s plan with the Kings of Hell (To learn Sun Wukong’s weaknesses for the sake of devising a plan).

In the pilot episode of LEGO Monkie Kid, “A Hero is Born”, MK needed to deliver some noodles to a customer, but ended up dealing with the Demon Bull Family. Perhaps Nuwa also purposely made MK make the trip so that he can find Monkey King’s staff and allow MK to meet Sun Wukong and start training because Nuwa might have a deadline to finish her end of the deal, before the Kings of Hell will take action in Season 5.

𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗞𝗘𝗬𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Connecting to the last theory, I believe there will be a likely chance that Season 5 will introduce the other mystic monkeys from the Journey to the West novel. Judging from the direction of the LEGO Monkie Kid series, there will be new characters introduced other than Nuwa, considering that Season 5 will focus more on MK’s past, and him learning how to control his monkey powers.

For those who aren’t aware, in the Journey to the West novel, it is canon that there are a total of four mystic monkeys, which includes Sun Wukong (Spirit Intelligent Stone Monkey) and Macaque (Six-Eared Macaque Monkey).

The other two are known as the Red Butt Horse Monkey and the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey (using the translated names from the Chinese characters).

Since the series does slightly alternate the Journey to the West lore, perhaps the Red Butt Horse Monkey and Pass through Arm Ape Monkey were created before Sun Wukong and Macaque, and the idea of MK being a new mystic monkey existing in the LEGO Monkie Kid show does bring their attention and they will contribute to the main conflict of Season 5 (Perhaps they know much more about the upcoming conflict with the Kings of Hell and MK’s monkey power awakening).

This prediction might be a bit of a stretch, but since MK’s monkey powers will most likely be one of the main focuses for the plot of Season 5, I believe these two monkeys are willing to become an influence; both negatively and positively.

Reasoning for this prediction is connected to the fact that the Red Butt Horse Monkey is known to have the ability to avoid death and lengthen its life, which I believe might lead the show to make an alliance with Nuwa and the Kings of Hell.

Meanwhile, the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey might be helping MK through his glitching when it comes to his monkey form, and might have more knowledge about dealing with MK’s problem than Monkey King.

To support this theory, in Season 4, Episode 7, “Pitiful Creatures”, when Wukong first sees MK’s glitching, he looks like he doesn’t look like he know how to deal this side-effect of unlocking the monkey powers, considering that Sun Wukong and Macaque were already created as monkeys and were able control their powers.

The Pass through Arm Ape Monkey might have known of MK’s existence through the battle against Azure Lion in the Season 4 special, “Emperor’s Wrath”, as the sky and the whole world was breaking apart, and since the Pass through Arm Ape Monkey can manipulate the moon and stars.

It could be the reason why the Red Butt Horse Monkey told Nuwa and the Kings of Hell about MK’s powers.

I don’t have anything else to say about this theory/prediction. However, if the series doesn’t show them, there HAS to be some influence, Easter eggs, etc. connecting to these mystic monkeys.

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗕𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

Aside from Sun Wukong and Macaque having their pasts explored, the series does have the Demon Bull King appearance in these flashbacks since he was once a member of the Brotherhood, first revealed in Season 4, Episode 2, “New Adventures”, as everyone is discussing who will be the next Jade Emperor after overthrowing the current one.

From this single flashback alone, DBK was shown to be a good guy, fighting alongside his sworn brothers for they thought was right, and it does beg the question: What made him change his morality from good to bad?

In the pilot, Season 1, “A Hero is Born”, he is first introduced as the main antagonist whose goal is to conquer the world, and suddenly Sun Wukong traps him under a mountain despite DBK being his sworn brother. This minor detail is very unusual considering that in Season 3, Episode 10 “The Samadhi Fire”, showcases Sun Wukong, Demon Bull King and Ne Zha helping to separate the Samadhi Fire from Redson as a child.

Judging from this scene, the event must have taken place post to the Journey to the West, as the Monkey King isn’t wearing the circlet, as most of the flashbacks which are taking place in the Journey to the West shows him wearing the circlet given from Tang Sanzang. The pilot does show Sun Wukong wearing the same suit of armour as in Season 3, Episode 10 “The Samadhi Fire”, and it's strange how the Monkey King went from helping the Demon Bull King to fighting him.

Either something happened between the events of removing of the Samadhi Fire and the events occurred in the pilot, or off-screen there was some conflict between the two, but set a temporary truce to help Redson with the Samadhi Fire.

The most assumed event that could pinpoint the morality change of the Demon Bull King would be when he and Princess Iron Fan met during the battle against Heaven. However, I highly doubt that. Since this event took place before the birth of Redson, and if Demon Bull King and Sun Wukong didn’t have conflict during this time period, then this accusation would be inaccurate.

This wasn’t a theory or a prediction, however, I REALLY do feel like talking about this since it’s been bugging me for quite some time. I hope that Season 5 will be able to resolve this plot hole and perhaps it might correlate with the main plot of the next.

While I do hope, I also doubt it since the Demon Bull Family has not had much screen time in recent seasons. But simultaneously, I bet there will be a chance since the new 5th Anniversary LEGO set does display Redson working at the BBQ restaurant in Megapolis, so maybe a slim chance.

I was going to talk about Peng and Erlang working together in Season 5, considering the current conflict with the Monkie Gang and Peng, and due to the fact that Erlang is a cousin? Brother? Or a family member of the Jade Emperor according to the Journey to the West novel, and wanted to avenge his death.

(Probably ignore this one, this was a last minute theory)

But I didn’t know what else to talk about and it does seem like the two will be working on their own.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the theories that I have come up with. I haven’t gotten the chance to re-watch all of the episodes of LEGO Monkie Kid, so I mostly relied on my memory. Leave some comments about your thoughts and theories of the series or what will happen in Season 5.

#Lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk theory #lmk predictions #lmk season 5 #lmk season 4 #lmk season 3 #lmk mk #lmk nuwa #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk demon bull king #mystic monkeys #journey to the west #jttw #LEGO

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