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#THE OG WAS EIGHT YEARS AGO HOW DID I NOT HEAR THIS ONE
doodle-girl · 7 months
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Oh my fucking god.
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A Royal Spooky Fuck Up | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’ verse
An oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco​ & @super-unpredictable98
Word Count: 4,7k
Warnings: Strong language, ghost stuff, mention of death
a/n: Soooo we ended up forgetting to tell you guys something lol we thought it was pretty dehumanizing to call each of the Nathans "Lyddie's Nathan" or "Win's Nathan" so we gave them nicknames. Lyddie's Nathan is now Nate and Win's Nathan is Nats. Hope it's not confusing and that you enjoy our second quad adventure for the @sheehalloween
(Masterlist)
The year was 2022, life was just starting to look normal again, as normal as it gets. It was the end of a long eight show week in Six, where Lydia had been playing Anne Boleyn for a few months and she was rewatching The Crown. 
"Oh my God," she sobbed. No matter how many times she watched the scene where King George VI was found in his bed, she always cried. "And she wasn't there, Elizabeth wasn't there!"
"I thought you were anti-monarchy?" Win said as she walked through the living room to find her wife in tears in front of the telly.
"I am! I'm very anti-monarchy, I'm practically an anarchist," she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "I mean, King George got us through World War II, he was a great person. It's just a hobby, but I don't support it, our money pays for their luxury while everyone is struggling with the energy bills... horrific!"
"Yeah, no kidding, it's disgustin'," Winnie scoffed, though she plopped down next to Lydia on the couch. 
"Oh shit! Did yeh hear?" Nats cried, skidding into the room. 
"Hear what?" Win asked, frowning at him.
"We just saw it online, the Queen kicked th'bucket," Nate tilted his head seeing his wife's red puffy eyes. "Oh shit, bad time?" 
"THE QUEEN DIED?" Lyddie screamed. "She was okay a couple days ago! What happened? She can't just die! What the fuck? Out of nowhere?" 
"Well, not exactly out of nowhere, love, the woman was nearin' 100..." he murmured.
"So much for anti-monarchy," Win grumbled, rolling her eyes. 
"Yeah, she was good and old, one foot in th'grave an all, y'know? People have been waiting for this for a while..." Nats added.
"Everybody knows you can be a republican and still like the Queen! It's the Queen! The only one I've ever known, the only one my parents ever knew..." Lydia tried to work through the shock. "And what's the alternative? Carrot finger Dumbo and his mistress?"
"Th'alternative? Uh, I dunno, abolish th'whole bloody monarchy?" Win muttered. 
"Don't know if y'know Lyds, but um- back in Ireland we're not her biggest fans," Nate sat down, stroking her back. "Pretty sure the chants in the streets now are Lizzie's in a box... but we're all here, we love ya."
"Yeah, course we love yeh. It's gunna be okay," Nats assured, sitting down on her other side.
"They've been here forever, they're not going anywhere," Lydia clung to Nats. "Oh no! The corgis..." 
"The corgis will be fine," Nate murmured. "I think you're still gettin' over Betty White and Sond-" 
"Don't say Sondheim or I'll cry..." she breathed, nearly a whisper. "I was gonna meet the Queen next month, the Royal Variety Performance."
"Maybe we should turn off Th'Crown," Win suggested, grabbing the remote and turning off the television while the boys comforted her. 
"Hey, would it make y'feel better if we tried t'conjure th'Queen?" Nats exclaimed, snapping his fingers as he thought of it.
"You're gonna... conjure Queen Elizabeth? Won't she be angry at us? I mean, our flat is a dump next to her lavatory, let alone the rest of her palace," Lydia pouted. 
"Well then guess you'll just meet the new King and Queen when you're singin' next month..." Nate teased. 
"Queen consort! Camilla could never! And the new King is a self-proclaimed tampon, no way! I wanna meet the OG." 
“Well, maybe we won’t conjure her physically,” Nats mused, tapping his bottom lip in thought. “What if we used an ouija board just t’talk to her?” 
“How would you even know if you were actually talking to Queen Elizabeth?” Win snorted.
"We ask? Ghosts don't really have a reason to lie, do they?" Lydia watched as Nate made her a neon pink board. 
"I guess that one time Jamie just omitted the fact that he was dead... he didn't lie," he sighed heavily.
“Or if they’re evil spirits,” Win said, pitching her voice low for effect while wigging her fingers ominously.
"Don't be silly... we can all see ghosts, if there were evil spirits roaming around I think we'd know. The ghosts we see are the ones we attract," Lyddie scoffed, trying not to think too much about that possibility.
“Serve yourselves then,” she shrugged. 
“Aw c’mon, Winnie, at least come out your fingers on th’plancette,” Nats said, gesturing for her to join them around the coffee table.
"Please stay with us, just... don't move it around on purpose," Lydia asked, somewhat scared of what could happen. She didn't wanna end up like the Exorcist girl or another stupid child who misused the board. 
"She wouldn't do that, it's okay, none of us would... maybe me, but I'm givin' you my word," Nate assured.
“I promise I won’t take th’piss,” Winnie said, holding her hand up solemnly before grinning at her wife and placing her fingers on the edge of the planchette. “So, how d’we start this thing?” she asked, looking at Nate.
"Oh, this is exciting, it's like The Craft... only hopefully with a better ending," Lydia cleared her throat before closing her eyes.
"When you're done don't forget t'say goodbye," Nate warned. "Okay okay. Hello spirits," she nodded and he covered his mouth not to laugh. "We are holding this seance to reach a very special person, we hope you all understand. Only positive energies are allowed in this circle and we humbly ask Queen Elizabeth Alexandra Mary of Windsor to come forward."
For a long moment, nothing happened, and the four of them held their breaths, their fingers trembling on the planchette, but it didn’t move.
"I guess I should explain... your majesty, I'm Lydia Young, I was about to perform in the royal variety show with my wife Win. My Irish husbands are here too, but no hard feelings." 
"Well, some hard feelin's, my family... sorry we can talk politics later, Lizzie," Nate shook his head just as the planchette moved to hello.
Win’s brows rose and she nearly pulled her hands away. “Holy fu—“ she breathed. “It’s actually moving.” 
“Ask her somethin’ else, Lyds!” Nats urged, excitement coursing through him. He half wondered if it was only working because of his and his twin's medium powers.
"Um... your majesty, did you attend your son's second wedding reception wearing white as retaliation for when Camilla wore white to his first wedding?" Lydia asked. 
"Seriously? That's your question?" Nate chuckled and for a long time, nothing happened again.
“Did we lose her?” Win wondered aloud, watching the board for any tremble of movement.
Instead of drifting towards the yes or no, the planchette vibrated slightly before moving to the letter S. 
"S? what does that mean? I, M..." Nate watched it in confusion. 
"Simon? Why is she talking about him?" Lydia felt another shiver, but instead of excitement, this time it was fear.
"Guys, I don't think we're talkin' to th'dear departed Queen," Winnie whispered, her mouth going dry. She wanted to pull her hands away or yank the planchette to the 'goodbye' scrawled in the corner, but she couldn't move.
"Oh well, I think we have the wrong person, so... we respectfully ask to end this seance and say goodbye," Lyds stammered, but her hand was pulled as the spirit started to spell another word. 
"Oh shit... MU... MUR... Murder, that's just great," Nate grimaced, shaking his head and regretting every decision he made that day.
"Simon and Murder," Win mused. "Oh fuck... I think we're talkin' to--" her exclamation cut short as the table beneath the ouija board began to vibrate.
"Sally? Is that you?" Lydia asked and the planchette surged towards the yes. "Oh, for fuck's sake, we know he killed you, you were gonna send us to jail! For a self-defense murder!" 
"Wait who's Sally?" Nate asked before his mouth fell open. "Oh... the corpse bride lookin' cunt who gave me shit for that brick on her windshield!"
“Yeah, our probation worker,” Win added.
Nats opened his mouth to ask what to do next when the lights began to flicker ominously and the planchette began to move again. “What’s she spellin’ now?” he yelped, hoping no one could hear how freaked out he was.
"Justice... oh please! You're dead!" Lydia cried, but she didn't want to upset the spirits. "I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. It's just that he had to do it." 
"We're good people! We never killed anyone cause we wanted to. Please fuck off," Nate pleaded.
“Let’s hang up, this call is goin’ nowhere,” Win said, dragging the planchette over to the ‘goodbye’ in the corner. “See ya, y’frigid bitch,” she muttered, wiping her hands. 
“Guess she’s still pissed at us, even after all that time,” Nats mused. “Y’d think she’d mellow out after findin’ her boyfriend in th’afterlife.”
"Maybe they went to different places," Lydia pointed one finger up and one down. "I mean, Tony wasn't amazing, but he didn't do that to us cause he wanted to either. He was possessed." 
"Maybe," Nate shrugged. "Can't see her anywhere, so it's over. Don't worry." 
"I'll call Simon to put a Greek evil eye on his door," she jumped in search of her phone.
"I don't think Tony woulda turned violent unless he already had violence in his heart," Win murmured thoughtfully as she picked up the ouija board to put away. "But I'm glad that's over with, it gave me the skeevies."
"Probably, think we all got powers that had to do with who we are. I've always felt really vulnerable, so I got a shield. Nathan is dumb so he can't die..." 
"Hey!" Nate laughed. "Don't think that's why!"
"I was afraid of bein' seen as a leech, so my power's leechin' other peoples'," Win muttered, still kinda sore about that one, even if it did come in handy.
"Don't say that, your power saved us so many times," Lyddie emerged from their room with her phone to give her wife a hug. But just as she took the other woman in her arms, the bedroom door slammed shut
Yelping in surprise, Win jumped into her arms. "D'you think...? It couldn't have been Sally, could it? We ended the seance..." she whispered, a chill running down her spine.
"She never said goodbye, but... Nate said he couldn't see anyone," Lyds held her protectively. "It was probably the wind, I left the window open."
"Right, yeah. The wind..." she agreed hesitantly, shaking her head, her voice trembling slightly. "C'mon, let's go make something to eat."
"Yeah, there's some leftover curry, I can toast some bread," Lyddie tried to not freak out for everyone's sake. 
"Yummy! I'm starvin', all the supernatural shit really drained me," Nate hopped on the stool and leaned over the counter.
“Are you really not even a little rattled?” Win asked the boys as she pulled the dish of leftovers out of the fridge for Lydia. 
“Nah, what’s she gunna do?” Nats scoffed, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug.
"Your mum and our brother have t'make the biggest effort t'visit. What makes Sally so powerful that she could haunt us?" Nate agreed. 
"Don't worry baby, nothing is gonna hurt us, I'm here," Lyddie smiled reassuringly.
Lydia’s words placated Win for the time being, but by the time they were getting ready for bed, more strange things began to happen. 
“Nate, did you filch my clean pyjamas from th’bathroom?” Winnie huffed, emerging in her towel, her hair still dripping.
"That would've been a great idea t'see you naked, but no... someone got there before me," Nate gave his brother an accusatory glare. 
"I can find something for you to wear," Lydia offered, opening the top dresser drawer and screaming when the bottom one opened as well, hitting her legs.
“What, it wasn’t me!” Nats cried, his exclamation turning into a sharp shriek of alarm as his wife cried and jumped back. “Oh shit! Lollipop, you alright?” 
He quickly rushed to her side and kicked the dresser door shut. Suddenly the lights began to flicker faster and faster before the door slammed shut with a whoosh leaving them in darkness. 
“I’m fairly certain that wasn’t th’wind this time!” Win exclaimed, having jumped into Nate’s arms atop the bed. 
"Yeah, we might have a problem," Lydia murmured, letting Nats embrace her. "How can we banish her? She's so salty for no reason! She took my brother's phone, he was just trying to get it back." 
"I don't know, I'd call my priest uncle, but things were a little awkward after the... y'know, fake possession stunt," Nate shared a look with his twin before loosening Winnie's towel to get a peek at her goods. "Ooh, nice, never gets old." 
She gave him a halfhearted smack to the shoulder but didn’t bother recovering herself. 
“I’m gunna ignore th’bit about a fake possession, though I’m definitely curious,” she said, looking between the two. “Maybe we should call a priest though? Not your uncle, but a priest?” she asked, her gaze going to her wife.
"Do you know any priests? I've never even been to a church, my mum's a former Catholic turned atheist and my dad's a Jewish hippie," Lydia covered them all in a force field as one of her Tony awards was launched from the shelf. 
"I don't know, maybe there's some 0800-priest. Do we know any pastors maybe? Or monks? Maybe your dad knows a rabbi!" Nate asked.
“No, sorry. My family never went t’church either.” Win shook her head. “Maybe we could call th’local parish? See if they can help us?” She suggested, wincing as several books exploded from the shelf.
"We can't sleep like this! Let's go over there right now, I'm not letting this cunt hurt you. Nate, get us dressed, we're leaving," Lydia demanded. 
"Right now? It's late," he said, though he followed her instructions, snapping his fingers to dress all of them up. "Could be dangerous." 
"Not as dangerous as sleeping with a vengeful spirit in our house. Someone will have to help us."
“Will anyone even be there at this hour?” Nats asked, quickly shutting his mouth at the look his wife threw him.
"If there isn't, we're spending the night with my parents," Lyddie shoved a few essentials in a backpack and headed to the door while covering herself and the others still.
"What if she tries t'follow us?" he wondered as they walked across the estate to the big cathedral.
"Then I guess we better hope th'priest is in," Win murmured.
As expected, the doors at the church were locked, so Lydia banged with both fists while Nate tried to unlock it. 
"Hey! We need help! We messed it up and now we're haunted!" She screamed.
After several minutes of their pounding and Lyddie's screaming, the door finally swung open, revealing a very disheveled looking man. 
"Yes?" He exclaimed, leaning heavily against the church door.
"There are millions of bloody priests in the world, why the fuck he's the one helpin' us?" Nate hissed. 
"Oh my... this is... this is new," Lydia's legs nearly gave out when she saw him, an exact copy of Nathan but with some facial hair. Not much, but enough to make her weak in the knees. 
I fancy a priest, I'm so going to hell if I die one day, she thought, even more turned on by how sleepy and messy he looked.
"What, may I ask are y'doin' bangin' on th'door at this hour?" The priest asked, his gaze taking in all four of them. 
"Oh..." Win breathed, discreetly reaching for Nate's arm, subconsciously trying to remind herself that she was married. 
"We're bein' haunted!" Nats exclaimed, breaking the silence. "We need an exorcism, STAT!"
"We're so sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you, but it's really urgent," Lydia tossed her hair and fixed her posture. There was nothing wrong with being attracted to this guy, it'd not like anything would ever happen anyway. "There's a vengeful spirit throwing things around the house, we were trying to communicate with the Queen and things went south. We really really need your help," she pouted slightly.
“Why were y’tryin’ to talk to th’Queen?” the priest scoffed, amusement breaking the annoyed expression he wore. “Come on in, I gotta get dressed,” he murmured, gesturing for them to follow him.
"The royals are sort of a hobby of mine," Lydia obeyed, turning agape at Win like a giddy fan meeting her idol. "Even though I'm not exactly a fan of authority... can I ask what's your name, father?" 
"Get a grip, you're married! And thinkin' what you're thinkin' about a priest is a sin for sure," Nate whispered in her ear. 
Win met Lyddie’s look with one of her own and had to fight to stifle her snicker as she overhear his hissed warning. 
“Uh, it’s Kay,” the priest answered distractedly, leading them to his office, which doubled for a bedroom. “Sit wherever y’like, make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, gesturing to a few worn armchairs in the corner while running his other hand through his close cropped curls.
"Thank you," Lydia smiled, already grateful to Sally for being so stubborn. 
Nate took a seat and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her like a dog protecting his bone. "You're shameless, woman," he scolded. 
"What? I didn't do anything, and you are right. We're married, for over ten years, you should be over your silly jealousy by now. He's a man of God, I could never!" She fought not to laugh. "I just hope he can help us with the house. Right, Winnie?"
"Yeah, I hope so too," she agreed, sharing a tiny grin with her wife. 
"Okay, now get me up t'speed," Kay exclaimed as he returned to the room wearing his vestments. "You said somethin' about en exorcism?" he asked, sitting down on the arm of the chair opposite them. 
"Yeah, we're bein' haunted by th'ghost of one of our probation workers," Nats explained.
"Almost fifteen years ago we were arrested and had to do some community service. My brother and this probation worker were having some sort of relationship," Lydia winced thinking about it. "She passed away during an accident and today when we tried to communicate with spirits, she's the one who came forward and she's really angry for some reason. We were wondering if there's anything you can do."
Kay looked thoughtful for a long moment. "I can come and bless your house, I s'pose." 
"That's it?" Nats exclaimed incredulously.
"You say that as if you can do it yourself..." Lydia gave him a pointed look. "That would be great." 
"Sorry, we're not exactly wired t'trust priests," Nate muttered.
Kay winced and opened his mouth before shutting it again, deciding better not to ask. "Since I'm awake, I suppose now's as good a time as any," he said instead, getting to his feet. "Shall we?"
"Yeah, we're so sorry by the way," Lyddie got up, fixing her skirt. "That whole mess might just make me religious." 
"Mhmm, the mess," Nate took her backpack so she wouldn't have to carry it on the way back.
"Oh hush, you," Win hissed, nudging his shoulder as they filed back out the church and back into the night. 
"D'yeh think this'll actually work?" Nats wondered in a hushed voice. "No offense to our lookalike priest," he muttered.
"I really hope so, this has t'be worth it," Nate rolled his eyes, following behind as the girls led the way. "Otherwise we'll have t'move out or some shit."
Once back at the house Nats entered hesitantly, looking around to see if Sally was still around. "I think th'coast is clear for th'moment," he said, turning around to let the others in.
"Ah what a bitch!" Lydia gasped when she saw their stuff scattered all over the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to curse." 
"You sure?" Nate held up the two halves of her destroyed signed copy of Junji Ito's Uzumaki. 
"That cunt whore!" She yelped and immediately covered her mouth, shaking her head in embarrassment.
"It doesn't bother me if you swear," Kay assured her, pattering her shoulder lightly as he stepped past her, surveying the room.
Suddenly a vase fell from the mantle, smashing on the ground and making them jump. "Wow, you weren't kiddin', that's one angry spirit," he murmured.
"We have no idea why..." Lyddie shrugged, taking Nate's hand when she noticed he was staring daggers at Kay. "You'll fix my book later, right? And our trophies..." 
"Ask him..." he huffed stubbornly but quietly. 
"Oh come on, are you 33 or 13?"
“I can fix them,” Win whispered. 
“Sometimes it’s not fair you can do that,” Nats grumbled.
"Thank you, my lovely perfect wife," Lydia stuck her tongue out at the boys. 
"You're too soft on her, Winnie," Nate folded his arms.
“And you’re getting your knickers in a twist over nothin’,” she snapped back. 
"If y'say so," Nate couldn't deny that fella was being more than generous helping them out in the middle of the night.
“Not to worry,” Kay said, turning back to the four of them. “I’m going to th’cleanse your house now.”
"Thank you so much, do you need us to do anything, father?" Lydia asked tying her hair up in a ponytail. 
“I’m gunna sprinkle some holy water in each room as I pray. All yeh need t’do is follow me,” he explained, reaching into his robe to grab his vial of the liquid.
"Yeah, of course," she took Win's hand, not for a moment doubting that plan was going to work. It only made sense... Nate on the other hand was quite unimpressed.
Winnie squeezed her wife's hand and followed after Kay. Though she didn't believe in the whole Jesus thing, she hoped that this prayer thing would work. 
"How much you wanna bet this is gunna work or not?" Nats whispered to his twin.
"I bet a threesome that it's not gonna work," he whispered back smugly. "There's no fuckin' way one of our variants is a priest... he must be a fake, only doin' it for the free accommodations."
"Deal." Nats shook on it. 
"What are you two on about?" Win hissed as they passed through the living room to the kitchen where Sally had left another mess. 
"Nothin'," Nate flashed her a charming grin. "Just talkin' about how much we love our wonderful wives. There ya go always thinkin' the worst..."
Kay sprinkled a few drops of holy water as they went, his voice a melodic prayer. Winnie gave the Nathans a doubtful look, but held her tongue, not wanting to disrupt the cleanse.
I think there's something wrong with me, this is turning me on, Lydia thought, making the sign of the cross and shaking those thoughts away. 
Kay continued his prayers, making the sign of the cross before leading them onto the next room. 
Suddenly as they returned to the bedroom, everything began to vibrate violently, but he merely raised his voice louder, unperturbed as he flung a spray of holy water across the space. "Leave this house, spirit! By the name of God, I command ye!" 
"This is exciting," Win breathed, grabbing Lydia's arm.
"Oh you have no idea..." she brought her wife's hand to her chest, where anyone could easily feel her heart racing. "He's not even scared, he's amazing." 
Nate rolled his eyes, trying to look as unfazed, even though he was a little bit freaked out. The lights were flickering and the sounds of the objects flying around were deafening. It all got worse until it finally stopped, leaving them in the most peaceful silence.
"--In God's name, amen." Kay finished his prayer and smiled, turning to face the four of them. "Looks like she's left." 
"Oh thank God," Win exclaimed, while Nats still eyed the room reluctantly, just waiting for Sally to return.
"So that's it? That actually worked?" Nate scoffed, only thinking of the threesome he'd have to sit out. 
"You're a lifesaver! This is incredible! I have no idea how to thank you," Lydia laughed, unable to contain her excitement. "D-do we pay you? Can I bring you lunch tomorrow?"
"Oh," Kay exclaimed, somewhat taken aback. "No payment is necessary, but..." he hesitated, turning his grin on her, "lunch would be nice, after wakin' me up in th'middle of the night," he chuckled. 
"What if she comes back?" Nats cried, scowling at the way Lyddie was gazing at the priest. 
"I suppose, let me know and I'll try something a little more advanced," he answered, frowning slightly. "But in th'meantime, maybe no more tryin' to contact the dearly departed Queen via ouija board."
"I promise we will never touch another board again, we'll let the Queen rest," Lydia nodded, already planning what she was going to cook the next day. "I'll make sure to update you tomorrow on the whole ghost situation." 
"Yeah well, thanks," Nate sighed, his face unbiddenly showing exactly how jealous he was. "Let's hope she doesn't come back," the last thing he wanted was to invite him over to get rid of another poltergeist.
Kay nodded. "It was my pleasure, good night to you," he said, following them back to the front door and stepping out into the dark street. As soon as he was gone, Nats shut the door heavily and let out a loud sigh.
"Winnieeeeeee!" Lydia squealed, jumping around, it had been a few years since a new variant had appeared. "We're ghost free! Well not really, but the bad ones are gone I hope." 
"Thankfully," Nats sighed, catching her around the middle.
"Guess I'll clean the mess then," Nate muttered, waving his hand to fix what was broken and get it back in place even though he swore he wouldn't do it.
Win laughed at her wife's excitement before turning to Nate and winding her arms around his neck, stretching to do so. "Thank you, babe," she whispered. 
"Yeah yeah..." he tried to fight a smile. "What don't I do for you two?" He held her in turn, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 
She smiled, tilting her chin to look up at him. "Think we can resume where we were when I was in your lap with naught but a towel?" she purred, twining one of his curls around her finger. 
"Now that's a plan," he lifted her in his arms, disappearing with her clothes even before reaching the bedroom. "So much better."
She giggled, letting out a yelp as he tumbled to the bed with her. "So glad to have our home back t'normal," she murmured, running her fingers through Nathan's curls.
"Me too, from now on we only summon the spirits we know," Nate mumbled against her lips. "I kinda bet a threesome with Nats and lost, so I'll keep you tonight. All mine."
"Guess y'shoulda had more faith then," Win teased, opening her mouth to him, grinning into the kiss. "But mmm, I like th'sound of bein' all yours tonight."
"Stop with that face, I'm not even looking and I know which face you have," Lydia turned in Nats' embrace and touched the tip of his nose with her own. "See? I knew it."
"And what face is that?" He asked with a laugh, pressing his lips to the tip of her nose.
"It's cute, you always scrunch your nose and your lips do this thing when you eat something you don't like or when you're jealous," she teased, scratching his scalp gently.
"Yeah, yeah, obviously I'm jealous," he grumbled, pushing his lip out further.
"As cute as it is when you're jealous of us, you know there's nothing to worry about, have we ever fucked another Nathan? We met several... and this is probably the only one who doesn't want anything to do with us," Lydia assured, stealing a kiss.
"I know," Nats murmured, pulling her closer by the waist and deepening the kiss.
"Good, you're the only one for me," she whispered. "Well, not really, but you get the picture."
Tag List: @firstpersonnarrator @elliethesuperfruitlover
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beansbeware · 3 years
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Beans’ Bagginshield Recs
Here it is! My first rec list eight years since I first started shipping Bagginshield. When this lockdown started (and ended and started again) I found myself re-reading OG/classics and discovering new ones. Sifting through my AO3 history I realized I have read and already forgotten so much fic over the years. For a while, I though the ship had run its course but as we can see now, Bagginshield lives! Check back for updates as I discover (and remember) more fics. Pay attention to the tags and trigger warnings! 
AU
I Sang In My Chains Like The Sea by orphan_account for lincesque, IronPanda
In which Bilbo is a Jaeger pilot candidate, and Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. (Pacific Rim AU) [Wasn’t sure how this one worked but man it did]
At the Turn of the Year by northerntrash
They say that strange things live in the woods, fair folk and things more spirit than man; don't step between the old oaks, parents mutter to their children, or they might find you, and eat you. Thorin never believed that, but now winter is settling into his bones, the shadows are growing longer through the hoar frost, and he is lost among the trees.
And it was there that Thorin met him, that strange, laughing creature, walking barefoot through the bracken.
Canon-ish
Homeward Bound by perkynurples for 61Below
His life slips away from him on an elven boat carrying him overseas, and there is one last journey Bilbo Baggins must take if he truly means to arrive home.
Sansûkh by determamfidd
The battle was over, and Thorin Oakenshield awoke, naked and shivering, in the Halls of his Ancestors.
The novelty of being dead fades quickly, and watching over his companions soon fills him with grief and guilt. Oddly, a faint flicker of hope arises in the form of his youngest kinsman, a Dwarf of Durin's line with bright red hair.
(Follows the story of the War of the Ring).
The Great Shire Conspiracy by Avelera for Emsiecat
Ten years later, Bilbo can't even go to the Green Dragon without a dwarven tourist buying him a beer and sobbing over Bilbo's great tragic love affair with Thorin Oakenshield. Which would all be quite touching and heartbreaking, if not for one little thing...
Dark (generally not a fan but this one made the cut)
Pain-Bearer by lilithiumwords (unfinished)
In an alternate reality, Erebor was never taken by Smaug, and the War of Dwarves and Orcs never happened. The Orcs invaded the Shire, slaughtering hundreds and taking countless more as slaves. Bilbo is slave to Azog, the Dwarf King's mortal enemy... until the Dwarf King rescues him.
Dwarves! in the Shire
Selling to Hobbits by HildyJ 
Exiled from his kingdom and living on the mercy of others, Thorin is determined to make his own way in the world for him and his family. And the annual Summer Fair in Hobbiton sounds like the best place to sell enough of his crafted goods to do just that.
Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ (series)
After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.
Erebor - Nope, Never Fell 
A Most Sensible Idea by HildyJ
Bilbo Baggins isn't sure about this. Not one bit.
Frodo is definitely too young to enter into an arranged marriage with a dwarven king called Thorin Oakenshield. It's a good thing that Bilbo is there to chaperone him through their courtship.
After all, there's no chance that a fussy hobbit bachelor would ever catch the eye of a king.
Signs and Meanings by HildyJ
It shouldn't matter to Thorin that the visiting hobbit cook doesn't speak his language. But it does.
Per Aspera by northerntrash
Deep in the dungeons of the Kingdom of Erebor, in an old, unused storeroom, lived a Hobbit.
In which Bilbo Baggins, a strangely successful thief, makes a mistake, and meets a Prince.
Erebor - Rebuilding
Mother-Tongue by northerntrash for HildyJ
Forget-me-not: a small flower, with four petals, which are normally found in shades of blue with a pink or white centre. These are traditional flowers of intent in the Shire, used to express true love, and remembrance.
In which Bilbo plans to leave Erebor, and Thorin tries to understand why.
Previous Engagements by Lunarflare14
After the Battle of Five Armies Thorin and Company have a new task: rebuilding their reclaimed home. Suddenly Bilbo finds himself up to his ears in responsibility and he surprises himself with how well he can navigate negotiations with elf dignitaries, farmers in Dale, and a dwarf king who has patience for neither.
But as Spring approaches a caravan from the Blue mountains brings something everyone had nearly forgotten: the dwarf woman Thorin promised his hand to many years ago.
Which is fine. It's all fine. It wasn't like Bilbo was falling in love with the king or anything.
That would be tragic.
And I'm Your Lionheart by Lee_Whimsy
Bilbo lingers in Erebor while Thorin recovers from his wounds, and soon finds himself caught up in politics, romance, and the occasional kidnapping. Ensemble cast. AU. Eventually Thorin/Bilbo.
Fix-Its (Gawd we need them)
An Expected Journey by MarieJacquelyn
For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right?
Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.
though the stars walk backward by baggvinshield, killaidanturner
Bilbo wakes, always in Erebor, with dark shadows to one side and the first light of a terrible dawn to the other.
An Expected Journey by MarieJacquelyn
For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right?
Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.
Over Your Shoulder by northerntrash
The battle is over, and the lost have been counted. There is too much death, too much blood, and in the middle of it sits one small Hobbit, left quite alone but for a body on the ground and the memory of what might have been. But he is a tenacious creature, and if there is one thing that he has learnt, it is not to give up hope.
In which Bilbo Baggins goes on one last journey, and doesn't come back alone.
Historical Setting
The Ghost And Mr Baggins by perkynurples
They say that everything can be cured by saltwater - sweat, tears or the sea. Bilbo Baggins chooses the last option, taking his recently orphaned nephew and moving to the charming Oak Cottage, overlooking England’s grislier shores. The house charms him instantly, and though he knows nothing at all about the sea, or about making ends meet on his own so far from everything he’s known his whole life for that matter, he’s quite determined to stay, and see his nephew get better, odd sounds in the night be damned. He’s living in a modern world, after all, and the nonsense he’s been hearing about the house being haunted by its former owner, the mysterious Captain Durin, is just silly superstition… isn’t it?
Hobbit! Thorin
I've Grown a Hedge Around My Heart by pibroch (littleblackdog)
Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood.
It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him.
Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.
Marriage (or something like it)
An Unexpected Proposal by Eareniel
As Bilbo sat smoking in his empty hobbit hole, he couldn’t help but wonder – when did his life become so boring? Or better yet – when did his old life stop being enough?
He suspected the answer to that question lay somewhere around the time when he had refused Thorin Oakenshield’s offer of marriage.
Something Blue by Lapin
Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.
Magical/Super Powers
On Adventures and Other Forms of Conduct Unbecoming of a Wizard by manic_intent for beingevil
For as long as even the old Gaffer could remember there had been a wizard living in the hill at Bag End, overlooking the Shire. As wizards went, this one wasn't the wandering sort, always out to lure gentle folk out onto nasty adventures, or even the powerful kind, the sort that lived in high towers, reaching out into the ways of the world.
Modern Setting
Old Stone, New Fires by northerntrash
Bilbo was not sure what he had expected when he had agreed to supervise the restoration of Erebor House, on the lonely tidal island in the North sea, but it was not this. The winters up here are cold and harsh, and there is a strange feeling on the air, thick with the brine of the sea and secrets to which he is not privy; there is some part of the long and troubled history of the place that has not been spoken of, a shadow between the broken family gravestones and the caves beneath the cliffs, dark and dangerous.
Perhaps it is all in Bilbo’s mind, but as the nights grow longer, he starts to doubt it, and as Thorin sinks ever deeper into black and incalculable moods, he will have to find what has been lost, before it takes them all.
For This by northerntrash
Thorin Durin had lived in his new flat for approximately eighty four minutes when things started to go terribly, terribly wrong. The wrongness came in the form of a package, delivered to his door, wrapped in brown paper and string, with a small tag wishing him a very sincere welcome to the building.
Nothing Gold Can Stay by perkynurples
Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?
Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples
Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…
If There Were Water by stickman
Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there's something strange about Bywater House that he can't quite figure out.
Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.
Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.
How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us by stickman
Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands.
Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up.
Except one morning, someone does.
The Boy You Met (At The Coin Laundry) by Lee_Whimsy
Bilbo accidentally spends a summer in Ireland. One rainy day, Thorin appears in the hotel laundry room, naked and dripping wet and about to propose. (But not, unfortunately, to Bilbo.)
Gandalf, Thranduil, and a handful of Spanish footballers all guest-star.
Hooked On You by Chamelaucium
Thorin should have learnt not to trust his brother and sister by now.
Come with us on holiday, they’d said. It’ll be fun, they’d said. A nice break from work.
Yeah right. All this holiday had brought him was being knocked around the head, acute hay-fever, and the biggest, most ridiculous crush ever on the cute, golden-haired fishing instructor.
One-Sided Conversations by northerntrash
"Thank you for listening," Thorin said, getting to his feet. "I hope to be able to return the favour, one day."
The man on the bed didn't respond, but since he'd been in a coma for longer than Thorin had known him, that wasn't entirely surprising.
“One”/Soulmates
you lick your lips (you taste like years of being alone) by perkynurples for stopchasingflowers
Thorin Oakenshield was born without the longing, and has spent his whole life merely observing others as they pursued a feeling unknown to him until they finally found their One. He has made his peace with the prospect of being alone, and has been faring well enough, but little does he know the fates have a different story in store for him.
Things We Grow Together by serenbach
Dwarves are born with a bone-deep knowledge of their One, but Thorin stops feeling the pull of his after the dragon attacks Erebor. Needless to say, he is surprised, and not initially pleased, to find his One living behind a round green door decades later.
Hobbits find a seed that represents their innermost self and can offer it to someone else to plant. This creates a bond as strong as deep roots in the earth between them. It is just like Bilbo, after years of thinking that no one would want his, to offer his soul-seed to a dwarf that does not understand gardening metaphors.
But just because they have found each other does not make the quest to reclaim Erebor any easier, and in the end a sacrifice is still made.
Thorin has to trust in the strength of the bond between himself and his One, because otherwise he will never believe that the sacrifice was worth it.
Colour-struck by northerntrash
Soul mates are like adventures, Bilbo had often consoled himself. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that made you late for dinner. It was no great hardship that he had never met his, even if he couldn't tell which of his petunias were blue and which were purple.
Quest-ions
Discovering Mr Baggins by Eareniel
The story of a Hobbit, told through the eyes of the dwarves.
Thorin Oakenshield's Majestic Diary by Fruitsie
Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain and Totally Majestic Badass of Middle Earth, does not have a raging hard-on for Bilbo Baggins.
No, seriously.
Just read his diary.
Call You Home by northerntrash
In which the Company are entirely too nosy about matters that are supposed to be a secret, and Bilbo learns that being concerned about propriety is overrated when you could be making friends instead.
Time Travel (because walking Middle Earth is not enough)
Of an Arcane Binding by Salvia_G
An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor
92 notes · View notes
sopeverse · 3 years
Text
check in tag ✨
tagged by @ressjeon, @ddaechwita, @joonsgalore, @jinned, @hwaven and @joonni - omg i’m so late to this but thank you all for tagging me and being so sexy all the time mwah
why did you choose your url?
sill a mystery to me tbh cause i’m in no way taegi biased (your girl has been sope biased since the og days) but it’s still iconic and looks so satisfying to read? also my last one was cringe af, whoever let 15 year old danni near tumblr needs ostracized
do you have any sideblogs? if so what’s the url(s) and why do you have them?
yes!! @seungisms is my only existing sideblog at the moment, just cause i wanted to show my love to my eight husbands of stray kids (look at me trying not to be seungmin biased for once)
how long have you been on tumblr?
the earliest post i can find on this blog is from 2016 so we’ll go with that ig
do you have a queue tag?
yes! i rarely use it though cause going back and fixing tags is a pain but it’s ‘queue 💭’
why did you start your blog in the first place?
at first it was just to show appreciation and support to writers and creators alike but then i got inspired and decided to write my own and look at us now sluts
why did you choose your icon?
let’s all put an ‘f’ in the chat for the lisa icon, she’ll be missed but not forgotten 😔 tbh i just wanted an icon that fit a little with my theme and saw this hoseok one aND HE LOOKS SO CUTE, HOW FUCKING DARE HE BE THIS BEAUTIFUL GRR BARK
why did you choose your header?
cause miss chelle over at @ddaechwita made it for me and everything her pretty little head puts it’s mind to comes out amazingly *chefs kiss* and she even made it sope themed for me which i’m so extremely miserable over and even more miserable over the fact it’s from their season greetings package 🥺 they look 🥺 *sniffles* 🥺 so pretty 🥺 also the colour is so pretty and this is probably the longest i’ve ever stuck to the same header - it’s not going anywhere soon!!
what’s your post with the most notes?
there’s 100% a shitpost i made years ago that has like 15k+ notes but i’m too lazy to dig it up from the realms of hell so let’s just say it’s my masterlist (*psst* you should check it out if you wanna 😽)
how many mutuals do you have?
over 300 - i have a lot of mutuals from different fandoms + mutlis and my dash is a little bit of a mess but i wouldn’t have it any other way cause y’all are smexy
how many followers do you have?
the only reason i’m sharing this is cause i recently hit a milestone and posted about it already so as of now i have 12,158 🥰
how many people do you follow?
371 but as i said before the majority are mutuals then the rest are sims 4 cc 🤡
have you ever made a shitpost?
bro this whole blog is a shitpost! honestly, i’ve made several and idk why y’all like them so much but i’ll keep them coming ig
how often do you use tumblr per day?
in my prime probably around 3-4 hours a day which is *yikes* but i’ve cut down a ton recently to the point where i’ll go several days without even logging in
did you have a fight/confrontation with a blog once? who won?
not a fight but i’ve defiantly had a disagreement with *ahem* someone within this fandom which shall not be named - no one won and i have her blocked and we’re both thriving in our own ways so let’s not bring this up again <3
how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?
honestly, as long as the post and wording doesn’t come off as passive aggressive then idc - as a content creator i understand how important it is to reblog stuff so i can see the point most of those posts are trying to make
do you like tag games?
yes, so much!! even though i’m always so late/forget them
which of your mutuals is tumblr famous?
lmao tumblr fame doesn’t exist, next question
do you have a crush on a mutual?
i’m already married to my love chelle so we’ve already went past the stage of crushes 😽 but i also have a tumblr crush on @yanseungs, @honeydh and @http-seung yOU ALL ARE SO CUTE AND ILU MORE THAN I CAN COMPREHEND
tagging: @taegularities, @chateautae, @artaefact, @xiaokoo, @lovetrivia, @bratkook, @taemaknae - sorry if you’ve already did this, love you all lots and know i’m hearing supporting you!! 🤍✨
31 notes · View notes
stiltonbasket · 3 years
Note
but ALSO okay so first of all thank you so much for the ficlets so far they are Adorable and i love them so much. second of all i am so glad you opened prompts again bcuz. i have. smth ive been wanting to read for a WHILE. so. prompt: junior generation post-canon, they all have super high standards for romantic partners cuz they spend time with Super Lovey Dovey WangXian. not like jiang cheng's List but smth a la Tenille Arts's Somebody Like That iykwim
i hope its not too late to insert a detail to my prompt!!! (i ran outta chara space in the og prompt message and then forgot ^^" ) but theres just one thing!! i really wanna see!!!! in the wangxian spoiling each other bit!!!!! (and the juniors being all That is Love Why Should We Settle For Less) -- i want lan zhan walkin around at one point with his hair in a braid and flowers braided in!!! and if asked he gets all soft and looks at it and is like "wei ying did it" ahhh i love the image <3
can anybody find me (somebody to love)
by stiltonbasket
“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?” 
(Or, the one where Jin Rulan visits the Cloud Recesses, contemplates his love life, and gets a new point of view on the Lan sect's taxation policy.)
Jin Ling is seventeen the year his dajiu marries Hanguang-jun, and finally gives Jin Ling the right to call Lan Sizhui his cousin. Sizhui’s always been his cousin, of course—they’ve been cousins since Jin Ling was born, even if neither of them knew it—but he couldn’t say so, because that would mean telling everyone that Sizhui was born a Wen. And telling everyone that Sizhui was a Wen would lead to terrible things, so Jin Ling keeps his mouth shut until after his dajiu’s wedding.
“You could just say that he was born to us during the Sunshot Campaign!” Wei Wuxian laughed, when he finally heard why Jin Ling wanted him to hurry up and take his three bows with Hanguang-jun. “Half the cultivation world already thinks he’s ours, anyway.”
But regardless of whether he could call Sizhui his biao-ge in public, Sizhui is first and foremost a very dear friend; and so are Lan Jingyi and A-Qing and Ouyang Zizhen, though Jin Ling’s best friend is probably Zizhen, just like Sizhui’s is Jingyi. He visits them in Gusu as often as he can, since all of them save Zizhen live there, and even Zizhen hangs around the Cloud Recesses more often than not. 
“Don’t you have a clan of your own?” Jin Ling frowns, when he visits his dajiu around midsummer to find the younger boy eating xiaolongbao in the jingshi’s new kitchen. “How come you’re still here, A-Zhen? The lectures ended weeks ago!”
“I’m almost sixteen,” Zizhen yawns, reaching for a shallow dish of black vinegar and soaking a salted mushroom in it. “Father says I’m old enough to go where I like, and Lan-xiansheng said I could keep studying with the Lan disciples as long as I stayed.”
“You’re just here for the food,” grumbles Jin Ling. His dajiu is a good cook when he doesn’t cover everything in chili peppers, and Jiujiu once told him in confidence that Wei-dajiu’s food was the closest Jin Ling would ever get to having his mother’s. But a steaming plate of xiaolongbao lands in front of Jin Ling before he can really start thinking about that, and then his baby cousin crawls into his lap and steals one of the soup dumplings.
“Ling-gege pays taxes,” three-year-old Lan Yu says serenely, poking a hole in the xiaolongbao and sucking out the broth. “Xiao-Yu can have one more?”
“Taxes?” Jin Ling stares at him. “What in the world does he mean?”
Wei Wuxian laughs and comes back over to give him another succulent soup dumpling to replace the one Xiao-Yu stole. “He’s pretending to be the sect leader,” he explains, ruffling Jin Ling’s hair on his way back to the stove. “And he found out about tax management this morning, since Lan Zhan and Xichen-ge are thinking about lifting the luxury tax on goods from some of the minor sects. But A-Yu thinks taxes are presents for the sect leader, so…”
“One more bao tax for xiao-Lan-zongzhu!” Xiao-Yu says imperiously, holding out his chubby hands. “Ling-gege give, please?”
“That is not polite, Xiao-Yu,” Hanguang-jun scolds, sweeping into the kitchen with A-Yuan and Jingyi behind him and A-Qing bringing up the rear. He lifts Xiao-Yu into his arms and sits him down on the bench next to Zizhen, and then he reaches up for a stack of patterned bowls and passes them around to the others. 
Jin Ling still hasn’t gotten used to eating at the Chief Cultivator’s table, even if Hanguang-jun is technically his uncle now. Sometimes Hanguang-jun even does the cooking, and feeds Wei-dajiu with his own chopsticks while everyone else watches, and then Jin Ling tries to choke himself to death on the bamboo shoots in his yan du xian before deciding that Lanling can’t afford to lose the first decent zongzhu it’s had since his great-grandfather’s time. 
“I wish I was married,” Ouyang Zizhen sighs dreamily, resting his cheek on his hand as Xiao-Yu tries to steal his dumplings next. On his other side, A-Qing’s cheeks flush crimson, and she stares resolutely down at her hands while Hanguang-jun offers her a plate of savory vegetables. “It looks so nice, Wei-qianbei.”
“It is nice,” Wei-dajiui winks—and oh, gross, because Hanguang-jun is blushing now, and staring at Wei Wuxian as if he’s the most amazing thing in the world. “Marrying Lan Zhan is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Mm,” Hanguang-jun says quietly, putting a heaping spoonful of potato congee into his husband’s bowl. “Wei Ying is the best thing that happened to me, too.”
Ouyang Zizhen wails. 
“Wei-qianbei, we’re getting old enough to go courting now,” Jingyi says eagerly; but he’s a horrible liar who lies, because he and Sizhui are only nineteen, and Jin Ling doesn’t come of age until early winter. “What do you think we should put on our list of requirements?”
“What, you want an arranged marriage?” Wei-dajiu frowns. “ I never went through the process myself—” and Hanguang-jun reaches out and squeezes Wei-dajiu’s waist, as if even thinking about Wei-dajiu seeing a matchmaker was too much— “and I don’t really know anyone who did, since Yunmeng’s a lot freer about these things. Are you sure, Jingyi?”
“I’m not asking for a matchmaker,” Jingyi says, tossing his long ponytail over his shoulder. “I want to know what to look for if my love of a lifetime comes along. So what were you looking for?”
“Nothing when I was your age, A-Yi. I thought I would spend my whole life at Lotus Pier, and marry one of the shijies or shimeis who liked me. But then I met Lan Zhan, and…”
And then his ideal became Hanguang-jun, Jin Ling finishes, chewing on a mouthful of mustard greens. Everyone knows that, Jingyi!
Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t end there. It goes on for the better part of an hour, and all through the course of coconut pudding Hanguang-jun made for dessert, and Jin Ling can’t even leave because that would be rude, and the food is too good to pass up even if Ouyang Zizhen wants to ask about kissing now.
“How old is old enough to have your first kiss?” he inquires, while Lan Sizhui giggles into his hands and elbows Zizhen to make him stop. “I’m sixteen, so is that too young?”
“I was thirty-eight when I first kissed Wei Ying,” Hanguang-jun says dryly. “I would advise patience, unless Ouyang-gongzi already has a beloved one in mind.”
Jin Ling wants to die. Why is his extended family like this?
“Pudding tax,” Xiao-Yu announces from his lap. “Ling-gege, can A-Yu have a bite?”
“I’m Sect Leader Jin, though. I don’t have to pay you taxes.”
Xiao-Yu gives him a serious little nod before turning to Sizhui. “Yuan-gege, pay pudding taxes.”
“You’ve had enough pudding,” Sizhui scolds; and indeed, the dishes are mostly empty now, except for the serving bowls in the middle of the table. “Come on, A-Yu. Let’s go visit the rabbits.”
They end up at the rabbit field about ten minutes later, after Jingyi and Sizhui help Hanguang-jun with the dishes. Jin Ling thinks it must make a very strange picture: after all, one doesn’t often see three Lan juniors, one Ouyang sect heir, one Jin sect leader, and one Lan baby lying in the grass with bunnies climbing over them. But the peace and quiet is beautifully welcome after the political unrest in Lanling and the dog food in Wei-dajiu’s tiny kitchen, so Jin Ling closes his eyes and settles down for a nap with a small white rabbit on his chest. 
“I think Shufu was right,” he hears A-Qing say. “There’s no point in having a list of requirements. Look at what happened to Jiang-zongzhu.”
“His first list was terrible, though,” Zizhen objects. “And he’s going to be married by next spring, so it worked for him in the end. After he fixed his requirements, I mean.”
“Gossipping is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,” Sizhui says tranquilly. “And what Father meant was that having a list means you might miss your fated one when they come along, so it’s best to think about what you want, instead of what your beloved should be.”
“I’d like it if my wife liked to eat my cooking,” sighs Zizhen—he’s an excellent cook, too, and Jin Ling knows for a fact that A-Qing’s favorite food is the shrimp and water spinach Zizhen’s mother taught him to make. “Then I could cook, and she could wash our children’s hands and bring them to the kitchen when I was done, and we would all eat together.”
“I think I’d like a husband who knew how to do my hair,” A-Qing says, not even trying to be subtle. Jin Ling has seen the combs Zizhen keeps giving her, even if they’re far too young for a courtship, and Zizhen is always the first to offer assistance whenever A-Qing’s hair falls out of its bun. “Even a plain bun is too hard for me, since my hair’s so bushy.”
Zizhen nearly drops his rabbit. “Oh,” he whispers, blushing so hard that his neck turns red. “That’s good!”
Jin Ling wants to die. He can’t stand visiting Lotus Pier because his jiujiu is obviously courting, even if he won’t say he is, and now he’s going to have to watch A-Qing and Zizhen flirt until Zewu-jun and Ouyang-zongzhu give them permission to get married. 
“What about you, Jingyi?”
“Huh? Oh, I want to marry someone who won’t mind how loud I am,” Jingyi shrugs. “Or someone even louder than me, so we can make trouble together. A-Yuan?”
“I haven’t really thought about it, actually,” Sizhui sighs. “I’m Zewu-jun’s heir, so I have to get married, but I’m not sure if I want to.”
A moment of silence. 
“Then you won’t have to,” Jin Ling says. Everyone stares at him. “Zewu-jun didn’t get married, and Hanguang-jun wouldn’t have if Wei-dajiu didn’t come back to life. You can just choose an heir born to one of your cousins, since Jingyi was going to inherit the sect before Hanguang-jun adopted you.”
The others swoop in to assure Sizhui that no one’s going to make him get married, and Jin Ling folds his arms behind his head and wonders if his biao-ge could possibly be like Zewu-jun: a yi xin yi shen, whole in heart and body, who eschewed marriage in favor of cultivation. It would explain a lot, Jin Ling thinks, because even he knows what it feels like when someone makes his heart beat fast and his face turn pink, and Sizhui’s never felt that way. 
(Jin Ling tries not to think of Nie-zongzhu’s hot-tempered archivist, who knocked him into the dust with her saber the last time he visited Qinghe and then told him he had pretty eyes. Nie Shiyong is a few years older than him, and he usually ends up nursing several new bruises each time he meets her, but Jin Ling is man enough to admit to himself that he likes her. Maybe.)
“Xiao-Yu is sleepy,” little A-Yu says, interrupting his embarrassing train of thought before it can go any further. “Yuan-gege, I have a nap?”
“You can just sleep here,” Jingyi suggests. “The grass is soft enough, right? And you can use one of us for a pillow.”
“Jingyi,” Sizhui chides, and Jin Ling hears the long grass rustling as his cousin gets to his feet. “Come on, A-Yu. I’ll take you home to A-Niang.”
“No need,” someone else says; and that’s Hanguang-jun’s voice, coming up the hill from the direction of the jingshi. “I am here. A-Yu, come.”
Jin Ling scrambles up to greet his uncle by marriage (sect leader or not, jiujiu would kill him if he greeted the Chief Cultivator from the ground) and then he reels back and blinks in surprise, because Hanguang-jun’s hair is up in a loose braid instead of a half-topknot, and somebody seems to have decorated the braid with a row of half-bloomed lotus flowers. 
“Wei Ying did it,” Hanguang-jun says, with a small, soft smile that makes Sizhui and the others gasp. “He will do the same for your hair, too, if you ask.”
And then he lifts Xiao-Yu up into his arms and carries him away, leaving Jin Ling still frozen mid-bow with Jingyi and Zizhen gaping behind him.
“I think what Hanguang-jun meant is that the first requirement for marriage is love,” Lan Sizhui remarks, when Jin Ling finally snaps his mouth shut. “And that no matter what we want, or think we want, we shouldn’t settle for less.”
(Jin Ling is the first of his friends to marry, and he never forgets his biao-ge’s advice until the end of his days.)
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anna-justice · 3 years
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Not a Race - Upstead
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Summary: Jay and Will revisit a conversation they had years ago, and this time it has a happy ending. (I promise Hailey shows up later lol)
Warnings: fluff, so much fluff
Requested: No
Jay pulled up in front of his and Hailey’s now shared apartment, putting the truck in park. “I’ll see you at Molly’s later?” He asked his girlfriend, confirming their plans. 
“Yes Jay.” Hailey said, rolling her eyes. “I will be there at nine, the exact same time I said I was going to be there five times today.” 
“And who are you supposed to pick up?” Jay questioned, smirking at her.
“Trudy.” Jay gave her a pointed look, “I am supposed to fake an emergency, but bring her to Molly’s instead.” 
Jay smiled at Hailey, finding her annoyance adorable. “I love you.” He said, his demeanor softening a bit. 
Hailey’s grumpy look faded and she leaned across the center console, pecking him on the lips. “I love you too.” Jay reached out and pulled her back to him, kissing her again. Hailey smiled into it before reluctantly pulling away. “You gotta go,” she sighed. “How’d you get roped into to doing this anyway?” She asked as she opened the truck door. 
“Kim.” Jay said, and Hailey nodded. “Five year anniversaries are a big deal apparently.” 
“Apparently.” Hailey laughed, shutting the door. Jay rolled down the window, not quite ready to leave yet. “Platt and Mouch better appreciate it, they’ve stolen so much of my Jay time lately.” 
Jay chuckled, “Babe, we work together...and live together. You see me at least twenty-three hours out of the day.”
Hailey shrugged, “It’s not enough.” She smirked at him before heading towards the front door. “I’ll see you later.” 
“Wear something pretty.” Jay called at her, laughing.
 After he was sure she was safely inside, he pulled out of the parking spot and out of the parking lot. He made the short drive to his brother's apartment, where Will was waiting for him. He was feeling a little jittery, so he opted for the stairs to hopefully wear him out a little bit. “Hey man.” He said, entering the apartment. (He had a key in case Will ever did something stupid...like lose his.)
“Hey.” Will said, getting up off the couch and heading towards the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” He asked.
“No, I’m good.” Jay said, leaning against his counter. 
“How are you feeling?” Will asked, taking a sip of the water bottle he got himself. 
Jay shrugged, “I’m good.” Will eyed him, “Listen man, I know we talked about it before, but I just want to make sure that it’s okay...again.” Jay thought back to what felt like a lifetime ago, a few days before Erin left for New York. 
Jay stood in front of the whiteboard with Will, looking through photos of victims from their recent drug case. “At least you guys get overtime.” Will said, before fishing in his pocket, Will pulled a red velvet box, surprising Jay. Will had seemed so against him proposing to Erin that he was sure he wouldn’t let him near their mom’s ring. “Mom’s ring. She always said it’s not a race, but whoever meets the right girl first gets the ring.”
Jay took the box in his hands, chuckling. “Hmm.” His mom was so important to him, and having Erin wear her ring felt like the blessing they needed, like his mom was a part of it.
Will watched his brother with caution, but smiled kindly. “You sure about this?” Jay stared blankly at him and Will nodded, he always knew he was the king of stupid questions. “You tell dad?”
“Why do I have to tell dad? It’s mom’s ring, not his.” Jay rushed out, immediately jumping down his brother's throat. Kevin interrupted them before Will could say anything, but Jay walked away feeling confident in his decision. 
And he was, maybe even as confident as he was now. Jay pulled the same velvet box out of his pocket and set it on the counter. “Will, I’m sure.” He said, and this time he had the words to express how he was feeling. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life, but I already had one chance with this ring and if you want it-”
“Jay.” Will said, cutting him off. “I know mom always said it wasn’t a race, but you won. Hailey is…”
“The most amazing person that I have ever met.” Jay sighed out.
Will laughed, “I was going to say ‘going to love it,’ but that works too.” 
Jay beamed at his brother, taking the box back in his hand. “She’s the one Will, I know it. And I never thought I would say this, but I wish I could tell dad.” 
Will placed a comforting hand on his brother’s back, “He knows man. They both do.” 
Jay took a big breath and laughed nervously. “I’m proposing.” He said.
“Yeah, you are.” Will said, sharing his brother’s obvious joy. All he ever wanted was for Jay to be happy, and he knew without a doubt that Hailey was it for him. 
“You think she’ll say yes?” Jay asked in a teasing voice. 
Will laughed loudly, “I’d say it’s a solid 80 percent.”
...
About an hour later Jay was back in his truck headed to Molly’s. It was almost seven o’clock, two hours from Hailey’s arrival and the unit had a lot to do before she got there. Almost like she could hear him thinking about her, he got a text.
Hailes: I know I’m bringing Trudy, but who is in charge of Mouch? Shouldn’t they be coming together?
Shit. He hadn’t thought of that. 
Jay: Ritter is getting Mouch. Don’t worry about it, we have a plan.
Hailes: Okay, whatever you say.
Jay sighed, he would admit a fake anniversary party was a little lame, but the only other thing he could think of was a fake baby shower and something told him that it wouldn’t really be appropriate to throw one of those in a bar.
Hailes: Also, “in charge” Jay is kinda sexy...you should help throw parties more often.
Jay smirked at his phone while he sat in the parking lot, shaking his head he texted back.
Jay: Good to know ;)
Jay: Get ready for the best birthday of your life.
When he pulled the door open, he was met with Kim shouting orders at Herrmann, Mouch, Kevin and Adam. Most of the decorations were already hung and he was informed that there were ten bottles of champagne hidden behind the counter. 
“Wow. It looks amazing in here.” He looked at Kim directly. “Thank you.”
Kim grinned, “Of course! It’s not everyday that one of my oldest friends proposes to my best friend.” She says, playfully punching his arm. Vanessa had been gone for over a year and in that time Hailey and Kim had gotten really close, they all had. After years of losing one person after another, the members of intelligence felt more like a family than they ever had before. 
“This is crazy, isn’t it?” Jay asked, Adam and Kevin trickling into the conversation. 
“It’s a long time coming, that’s for sure.” Adam said, wrapping his arm around Kim. 
Kevin scoffed, “Oh, like you can talk.” He teased. 
Jay’s nerves got worse and worse, “This isn’t too much right?” Jay asked his friends, “You think she’ll like it?”
“Jay.” Kim said, gaining his attention. “You could slip a ring pop on Hailey’s finger in front of the district and she would love it, because she loves you. But this,” She gestures around the room, “this is beautiful and incredibly sweet and romantic. This is everything she deserves.” 
Jay smiles with pride, he wants to be everything she deserves, but Hailey Upton deserves the entire world and he wouldn’t mind spending his entire life trying to give her that. “Burgess, we just need to get you a t-shirt that says ‘I’m basically a hallmark card.’” Kevin says, motioning across his chest. 
“Let’s have a toast.” Kim says and on que Herrmann has glasses ready for them. 
Kevin raises his glass, “To the OGs.”
Kim rolls her eyes, but raises her glass as well, “To Jay and Hailey.” 
Jay raises his glass and so does Adam, giving a toast of his own. “To upstead.” 
Jay lowers his arm and glares at Adam, “Man, you have got to stop calling us that.”
“Anyway,” Kim says, “To love.”
“True love.” Adam interjects.
“Adam.” Kim snaps.
“What, you're the only one that gets to be a hallmark card? That’s not fair.”
“How about this,” Jay says, raising his glass again. “To me not shitting my pants before she gets here.”
They all laugh, “I’ll drink to that,” Kevin says shrugging and then all down their drinks. 
At eight forty-five Jay stood at the bar, his hands sweaty and his knees a little shaky. It was fifteen minutes until go time and he got more anxious by the second. He was pretty sure she was going to say yes, but he wanted it to be perfect for her. As perfect as she was for him. 
Most of their friends have arrived and were talking amongst themselves around the perimeter of the bar, leaving room for Hailey to eventually make her way down the middle to Jay. Everyone was buzzing, taking in the decorations and consuming copious amounts of alcohol, something that Jay had decided against doing even though he would love a beer (or five) right about now.
At three til nine, he got a text from Hailey stating that they had arrived and Jay shushed everyone, standing in the middle of the room to wait for his (hopefully) future wife. 
Hailey walked down the sidewalk with the desk sergeant, hiding her smile. She was excited to see what her friends had come up with for the happy couple. They reached the door and Hailey smirked at Trudy, “Hey sarge.”
“Upton?”
“Happy anniversary.”
This time Trudy smirked, “It isn’t my anniversary.”
“What-” Hailey started, but froze in her spot as she opened the door. The sight in front of her was breathtaking. The usual fairy lights were still hung up, but also hanging from the ceiling were hundreds of pictures, pictures of her and Jay. Hailey felt her eyes welling up with tears, she took a few steps forward, looking around to see all of her closest friends, her family. At a closer look, she could see all of the tables had empty bottles of various alcohols, all labeled with dates and cards with memories. 
He was grinning ear to ear, but when she saw him, it somehow got even bigger. “Jay.” She laughed out.
“Hey.” He said, meeting her in the middle of the room. 
“I hate to break it to you, but you decorated for the wrong couple.” She joked. 
“Oh no, really?” He gasped and Hailey laughed. 
Jay took her in, she was wearing her signature black jeans and a blue sweater. She looked as beautiful as ever, and he was ready. “Quite the crowd…” She whispered. 
“I know, I’m a little nervous.” He said, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Hailey Anne Upton, there are not enough words to describe how much I love you. And I have never been good at expressing my feelings, you know that better than anyone. But I have said it a million times and I will say it a million more: I would follow you anywhere. I looked at you and knew you were the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I looked at you and I trusted you, I have trusted you since the day I met you. I look at you, and I’ve got it. I look at you and I see the rest of my life, I see that you are everything I have ever wanted and more. I look at you and I know that you are it for me, there will never be anyone like you Hailey.”
Hailey felt the tears begin to roll down her face, he used her own words against her. Jay reached in his pocket, pulling out just a ring. “This is my mother’s ring, and for so long she was the most important woman in my life. But she has been gone for a long time and Hailey you have taken that place, and she would have loved you. So,” Jay said, finally getting down on one knee. “Will you make me the luckiest man alive, and marry me?”
Hailey took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. “Yes.” She choked out before launching herself into his arms. Jay caught her with ease and kissed her passionately as their friends cheered for them. Jay reluctantly set Hailey back down on the floor, pressing another kiss to her lips before stepping back and finally slipping the ring on her finger. 
“Perfect fit.” He said, pulling her to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He said, peeking down at her.
“I love you so much.” She hugged him tighter, “And I cannot wait to be your wife.”
“Let’s just elope, we can get married tomorrow.” Jay said.
Hailey scoffed, “That’s a funny joke, Kim would kill me.” 
“Good point.” He said, holding her tightly. “I’m thinking of a June wedding.”
“Did you really just say that?” Hailey burst out laughing.
Jay grimaced, “We don’t have to talk about it…”
Hailey turned to face him, pressing her palms to his chest. “How about this? We can get married whenever and wherever you want, as long as you wear your thigh holster during the whole ceremony.”
Jay gave her a shocked look, “Please tell me you aren’t kidding.”
Hailey got up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “I’m dead serious.” 
“Thank God.”
The happy couple accepted some congratulations before sneaking over to the bar. It had turned into a full on party, Herrmann turned the music up and everything. “You know, Hailey Halstead has a nice ring to it.” She confessed as she leaned into Jay. 
“I think so.” He said, beaming at her.
“Excuse me everyone.” Kim said, clinking her glass as they were passed around to everyone. She raised hers, “To the happy couple, I love you both and I am so happy for you. We all are.”
“And to the fact that Jay didn’t shit his pants!” Adam interjected from beside her.
“What?” Hailey whispered under her breath.
“Don’t worry about it…” Jay muttered, mentally punching Adam in the face.
Kim shrugged, “Sure.” They all raised their glasses and cheered. Jay set his and Hailey’s down and dipped her dramatically, bringing his lips to hers once again.
“I love you Jay Halstead,” She said as he brought her back to a standing position.
“I love you too, the future Mrs. Hailey Halstead.”
A/N: I watched the clip from 4x23 and then debated posting this idea just as a discussion comment, but then I was like “why not” and I just wrote it! I’m so glad I did, I wrote it so fast and loved writing it. I also hope that this didn’t come off as Erin bashing, I try not to write like that. I was the biggest linstead fan and I still love Erin, I just have moved on from linstead and wanted to show the potential parallels. Anyway, I promise I will update Lost or Found soon, it’s been crazy the past few months and I honestly haven’t had the motivation to write, but the scooby gang will be back soon! Thank you so much for reading! <3
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goattypegirl · 3 years
Text
Harrow the Ninth Live Read: Chapter 6-11
Con: It’s been a while
Pro: We finished part 1!
Con: this post is hella long now.
Chapter 6
Eighth House icon. Oh no. Gotta say, not a fan of the characters from the Eight House in Gideon the Ninth, whose names I now forget. There was Big Dude and Mayonnaise Twink. 
OH OK WE’RE STARTING OFF WITH SOME LOCKED IN SYNDROME SHIT. 
So, panicked person wheeling Harrow is given the title “Sacred Hand.” I vaguely recall seeing that before; is that a title given to Lyctors? Is this one of the OG Lyctors finally making an appearance? Wheeling the frozen Harrow to the Emperor to “unfuck accordingly?” Well, maybe not. Presumably another Lyctor would be able to “unfuck accordingly” themselves.
Oh disregard it is a Lyctor! And if we go back to the Dramatis Personae, this should be... Mercymorn! Originally of the Eighth House! She seems nice.
“It was his order that she not be touched.” Did the Emperor do this? But hwhy?
Calling Harrow and Ianthe babies is kind of hilarious. Aaaand Mercymorn just knocked this random person unconscious. OH wait is this the person the Emperor said to make static-y noises at? Survey says... maybe? They were called the Saint of Joy, which seems a unique title?
The whole description of the Lyctor and the way she visually dissects Harrow is so poetic, but something else catches my eye here. Harrow says her eyes did not have such a startling transition, which helps confirm my theory that Harrow is suppressing or undid the Lyctor process.
Also using the power of Cringe, Harrow partially(?) undoes the paralysis spell done to her. “An emotion was playing out over her face that was- not unfamiliar to you- but nonsensical; you discarded it.” Eh? What emotion could this be referring to? Confusion over what Harrow did? Awe? Fear? All of the above?
OH okay before I forget, Harrow formed a bone hook inside of her to do that, and she made that bone sheath to hold on to the sword, so maybe her necromancy isn’t being suppressed? Well, maybe. That feels more... internal? Like she hasn’t grown any full ass skeletons from bone dust yet.
...Why is Harrow afraid of telling Mercymorn her actual age? Why is the Body telling her to lie? Why fifteen??
Relief? That’s what flashed across Mercymorn’s face? Oh, duh, because Harrow did that and didn’t immediately die. Duh. Also she straight up said “hiss”? That is weird. Also, thinking back, it is weird there wasn’t an age requirement in the Lyctor trials. Also Mercymorn took Ianthe too???
“You’re not as pretty as Anastasia.” Anastasia being the member of the Ninth House listed with the Lyctors, but not as one of the Saints. Doing this liveread has its advantages, namely that I can remember shit that happened earlier! 
OH WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT. “AS Anastasia,” not “As Anastasia was.” Implying Anastasia’s still alive? Matches her name not being struck through in the Dramatis Personae, and Mercymorn said there were 3 OG Lyctors now. Which matches with Anastasia not having that line about being a Saint! I’ve connected the two dots!
Okay there’s a lot going on here. Why is this normal necromancer so fascinating to Ianthe and Harrow? What she’s doing is pretty dope to be fair. Mercymorn called Ianthe 12... which... huh. More on that in a second. First, I need to google what the fuck an animaphiliac is... probably in an incognito window. Oh, okay, it’s just a style of necromancy in this universe okay thank God. Mercymorn also said Ianthe wasn’t as attractive as Cyrus... which is weird... And it reminds Ianthe of being with Mummy... I assume she means her mother, comparing her to Coronabeth? Oof.
So, back to the lowballing age thing. Mercymorn assumes Ianthe is 12, probably  because she’s super old and has forgotten how mortals age. Harrow seems to have subconsciously picked up on this, which is why she lied about her age. I’m still in the camp of the Body being non-supernatural in origin. Yes, she has Gideon’s eyes, BUT, she spoke in the voice of Harrow’s mother and Aiglamene. SO, my theory is that the Body is a product of the trauma Harrow’s gone through, that’s kind of externalizing Harrow’s inner thought process. Like I said earlier, I’ve read Twig, and this is reminiscent of that.
OH hey we’re headed to the frontline apparently? Because 3 warships got shot down suddenly? Which begs the question I’ve had in the back of my mind since first picking up this series, who the fuck are they fighting??? Probably not Ressurection Beasts, given what we know about them. Other humans, probably? Dominicus (probably) isn’t Earth or humanity’s home planet. 
Okay, hold up. The Emperor is trying to get to the frontline now, Mercymorn wants him to return to “the Mithraeum”, which is presumably the capital of the Empire outside of the Dominicus system? Also, Emperor’s been on the ship for 80 years, and been away from the Mithraeum for 100... Once again, the math’s not adding up...
Okay, so God hugs Mercymorn, she freezes, he confirms that he is leaving, and that he knows exactly who shot down 3 warships???
Okay cool we’re not headed to the fronline, we’re headed to the Mithraeum, whatever the fuck that is.
Ohhh and the Cohort necromancer girl died, or committed suicide? And the Emperor brought her back? ...There’s a story there.
Ohhhh Mom and Dad are fighting.
OKAY ONCE AGAIN A LOT TO UNPACK HERE BUT THE MITHRAEUM CAN ONLY BE REACHED BY ONE MEANS???? AND IT MAY HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH BEING A LYCTOR???
...Hey. So. Here’s something. In the description of Mercy’s sword, it says it has a white knob at the end of, and I quote “-you didn’t know the exact technical word. It was a pommel though.” There’s a disconnect there, between Harrow’s knowledge, and the narrator’s knowledge. This has happened a few other times, like just a few pages ago, Harrow says a room is used for bodily functions, but the narrator jumps in and says no one in the universe would call it that, it’s a toilet. And this is going to sound kind of batshit, but like 6 years ago i was in to Undertale, and there was a popular theory that the narrator in that game was a separate character from the PC and... a lot of the points used in that theory kinda ring true here... even the use of second person narration...
So the narrator is a separate character from Harrow? Now, whether this narrator exists in-universe, or if this is a really cool stylistic choice, is another story. Right now I’m leaning towards... I don’t know. Well, hm. If the Body is a kind of externalization of Harrow’s inner thought process, maybe the narrator is an internalization? 
That makes no sense.
Something to keep in mind.
Anyway, the shuttle detaches. There’s a sort of irony, in God being tired of people martyring themselves for him, but giving a speech saying “hey if you die in my service I love you.”
OKAY I think we’re about to go faster than light using necromancy? This should be good. OH OKAY WE’RE TAKING A SHORTCUT THROUGH HELL. COOL.
...so what was their original method of faster than light travel that turned out to be unusable? did it have to do with neutrinos in italy?
okay I love Mercy and the Emperor’s dialogue here. Again, objectively, I’m sure they’re bad people who have committed several warcrimes... but the way they bicker is just hilarious.
I’m googling hyperpotamus, and i’m only getting other Harrow the Ninth livereads, so it appears to be a term made for the book. But I have a terrible feeling it’s a pun on hippopotamus.
There are so many quotes here that I absolutely love, including “said the Lord of the Nine Houses, who apparently existed within a complex power dynamic.”  and “The magma metaphor falls apart from here.” 
...Oh. Okay, serious time. Even at the very start, just post-Resurrection, two of the Lyctors fell to the Resurrection Beasts. Well, one died, and one was “removed from play.” Which sounds horrifying.
So we’re dipping into Hell because you can move fast there. Hell is full of angry ghosts. This explains the ghost ward. Lyctors have hacked the system, and so can kind of survive there. And we learn what happened to Cassiopeia, one of the deceased Lyctors. (Interestingly enough it says she baited physical portions of the Ressurection Beast. Not a beast. Nor is it given a number...)
ALright so entering the River physically sounds fucking horrifying. I’m very glad we only have to do it this once and it definitely won’t come back later in the book nope definitely not.
“and that you felt alone in your head.” ;_;
Chapter 7
Sixth House icon.
There’s not a lot to say here, besides how freaky this is. How much do you want to bet that the faint wail Harrow hears is coming from the coffin with Cyntherea’s body?
JOHN. GOD’S NAME IS JOHN?? #NAME LORE UNLOCKED. IM JUST SO HAPPY I FINALLY HAVE A WAY TO REFER TO HIM WITHOUT STRUGGLING TO SPELL EMPORER EVERY FUCKIN TIME.
Also, Mercymorn knowing his like actual human name further implies some stuff about the timeline of the Ressurection, which I was wondering about previously... but that’s a discussion for later because Harrow’s in Hell!
Not a lot to say here besides 
fuck.
A few things. One. I think they’re going to get out of this okay? And by okay I mean alive? We know Ianthe, the Emperor, and Harrow live up to the point of the Prologue, and I don’t think Mercymorn is going to die already. 
Two. Cassiopeia was from the Sixth House, going by her Cavalier’s last name, which explains the chapter icon.
Three. The lights? The last page or so is very metaphorical, but, at the beginning it says Harrow perceived herself as a “sickly radiance”, and that she perceived the others on the ship as a light as well. She later said she was an “ova cluster of two hundred pinpricks of light.” So I think in this deep part of the River Harrow accidentally sent herself to, souls (maybe?) are displayed as lights. Harrow’s own soul is literally made up of the hundreds of dead House Nine kids, which is. Spooky. But then, at the end, when they jump out of the River, they bring 5 lights with them. So... either something hitched a ride with them, or it has something to do with Harrow suppressing Gideon and the Lyctor ritual. Everyone else on the ship has undergone the Lyctor ritual (or something similar, in John’s case), and they only have 1 light each. At least to Harrow’s eyes. BRUH IDK WHAT”S GOING ON. 
Chapter 8
No further answers here, this is a flashback chapter! So, sheared skull = flashback. And this chapter is going to feature the Fourth House, apparently. Who was Fourth House again? Oh no it was the kids. Oh no. ;_;
So, we are continuing through Harrow’s re-imagination of the events of Canaan House, with her Ortus OC in tow.
Of course Harrow is overwhelmed by normal tea, and of course Harrow thinks dressing up skeletons is stupid. 
AND of course Harrow would have a private prayer wishing doom on anyone that looks at her with any kind of emotion.
Hold up, the Anastasian tomb? Reserved for warriors? And presumably derived from the word Anastasia, the mysterious not-Lyctor of the Ninth House?? 
I can already tell Anastasia is going to become my Pepe Silvia. 
Ohhh this is going to be a lore bomb about the timeline of the Ressurection and I’m going to need to pull out my copy of Gideon the Ninth to see if any of this shit actually happened. 
TEN? TEN NORMAL ASS HUMANS? AND FIVE NECROMANCERS?? BUT THERE WERE SEVEN LYCTORS. THE MATH DOES NOT CHECK OUT.
Okay so I checked and none of this shit actually happened! In fact, Teacher actually said there were 16, 8 necromancers, 8 cavaliers. Where the fuck is Harrow getting 10 from? Who knows! And rather than explicitly saying “hey check out the basement labs to see how to become a Lyctor,” Teacher actually said fuck if I know. Not actually. But still.
Oh of course it’s called the Sleeper!! I had Kill Bill sirens playing in my head when I first read that. 
So,  had a whole ass monologue here, but this is already very long and im sleepy, so to very quickly summarize, the Parahumans series had an entity known as the Sleeper that was intentionally very mysterious and raised a lot of questions amongst fans, and the fact that there’s another entity here known as the Sleeper is flooding me.
So, I’m spooked. Again, this entire conversation did not actually happen. Teacher’s dialogue is precious. “go where I durst not go: because I love my life, and I love noise, also.” and “I do not know the answers to any of these questions, only that, already, you are being too loud.”
So, the rest of the chapter plays out with Ortus complaining to Harrow. Intriguingly, he says that Harrow doesn’t have much of an imagination, when she says there was no one else to choose as her Cavalier... And then one of the skeletons says, “Is this how it happens?” harkening back to Parodos, when the Body says something similar. There’s a lot to unpack here. One, like I said previously, because Ortus, and apparently the entirety of Canaan House, is a product of Harrow’s mind, they can maybe give some insight into Harrow herself. However, the fact that Ortus seems to break character and chastise her for her lack of imagination is... I don’t know.
Okay, theory time. “The Work” alluded to in the letters is not only the suppression of Lyctor-hood, it’s also the erasure of Gideon, and the creation of these false memories. Meaning Lyctor!Harrow somehow crafted them; there was conscious effort behind it. Which means we can totally pick these scenes apart to gain further insight into Harrow! The skeleton and the Body asking if this is what happened, and Ortus breaking character (maybe) are her subconscious breaking through... Maybe that ties into my idea of the narrator being an internalization or compartmentalization of Harrow’s trauma? Hmm...
Chapter 9
Seventh House skull, and not a flashback. I’m guessing this is because we’re going to inter Cyntherea’s body here.
Okay, so time seems to have passed. IDK how much of the River Harrow remembers here. It seems like she recalls it like a bad dream. Ianthe’s here, and they’re in a chapel made of bone. Or at least one absolutely covered in bone. 
Here’s a question. The necromancy Harrow excels at, that’s creating a whole ass skeleton from a single bit of bone. Is she actually creating a new skeleton? Or is she reforming one. Like if she had two teeth from the same skeleton, could she use that to make two new skeletons? In the last chapter the Ressurection was described as not creating anything new... does that apply to all of necromancy, or just what the Emperor did?
Also another side note, Harrow says the stars glow with an unearthly light, which matches what the Emperor said, that they restarted the stars near the Mithraeum with thanergy, so they’re weird now. Except... wasn’t Dominicus restarted the same way? Or is the Dominicus system a hybrid of thanergy and thalergy? I’m getting my energies mixed up.
Anyway yep it’s Cyntherea’s funeral, and Harrow is checking the fuck out.
Okay we have a new Lyctor... and I’m guessing it’s Augustine, since he and Mercymorn are fighting.  
Okay and John’s giving a speech and giving more lore about the pre-Ressurrection and it’s confirmed that this guy is Augustine and-
First gen? Second gen? Sixth installation?? Valancy? ANASTASIA?
bruh im so flooded and this is supposed to be such a reverent moment.
Ohhh this is awkward now that they’re pulling Ianthe and Harrow forward. Okay we get a formal introduction to Mercymorn and Augustine. Augustine trails off before the third... and asks if he, the third surviving Lyctor, knows about the missile strikes...Is the third Lyctor the one leading the people who shot down the warships, which is sounding increasingly like a rebellion rather than a battle against others? Who’s the third again ah fuck it’s ORTUS.
ORTUS is apparently interested in “you-know-what”. Which I don’t know what. Please elaborate. 
ORTUS is here and he’s skeletal. OH AND SO IS RESSURECTION BEAST NUMBER SEVEN.
FUCK.
(bruh what the fuck is a pseudo-Beast)
Okay yep time to fight an eldritch god.
Speaking of which, God’s name is John confirmed.
And Harrow bled from the ear and fell unconscious, hearing the name ORTUS.
Chapter 10
Pog we’re almost done with part 1. Fifth skull, sheared, so it’s flashback time. 
I don’t recognize immediately where we are; apparently this is in the library in Canaan House? Though I don’t remember one from Gideon the Ninth. We see a bit of personality from Ortus, when he complains about Fifth House poetry, which is nice. 
Oh, wait, never mind, that was Magnus speaking. Ortus remains as boring as ever.
Hehehehe dick jokes.
Hey so no fake vow of silence in the false memories of Canaan House! That’s interesting. As is Magnus and Abagail being here, and them being pretty fleshed out characters. As are these cooking instructions from the Lyctors...
HOOOOOOOLD the phone here. The cooking notes mention an M and Nigella... which was the first name of Cassiopeia’s cavalier... How would Harrow know that? The easy explanation is that this is a note that Harrow actually found, and is placing here in her fake memories... The other explanation is that something funky is afoot...
Ooohkay Magnus is asking if this is how it happens now. The simulation is breaking down. AND ABAGAIL CAN TELL THAT HARROW IS A LIVING WAR CRIME. PANIC.
Okay now we’re getting Ortus emotion! He is a grown ass man Harrow. At least, he would be, were he not a figment of Harrow’s imagination.
HEEEEY
WHAT THE FUUUUCK
WE’RE CONTINUING ON THIS DYING EGGS THING
PROBABLY WILL BE RELEVANT LATER.
Okay and the simulation breaks down further when Ortus says “you did have a cavalier with a backbone, I’m not them.” Interestingly enough, it’s hours later Harrow realizes something’s weird... Huh...
Chapter 11
Seventh House skull.
Literally just a paragraph saying Harrow sleepwalked and stabbed Cyntherea’s body.
...She sleep walked... the Sleeper from the fake Canaan House...
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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years
Text
The Origins (Chapter 1)
Summary:  Before the Renegades put an end to the Age of Anarchy, they were six kids trying to survive day by day in a city ruled by chaos and desolation. Is there a space for hope and kindness somewhere in Gatlon City? Maybe.
Sooo i’ve been playing around in my head with this idea for a six part fanfic that i have about how i think the OG renegade’s lives where during the age of anaychy and how they were as kids. we don’t really know a lot about their early years, so i saw this as an opportunity to experiment with some headcanons. i’m not an english native speaker, but i hope i’ll improve my writing skill with time (renegades fandom is non-existant in spanish). 
here’s the link to the story in ao3, if you rather read from there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123756/chapters/60870652 
but anyways, enough about me. hope you like it! :)) 
The world that’s waiting up for me
Age of Anarchy
Year 2
He was running at full speed. The air was cold and burned his throat each time he needed to breathe. His legs had started to hurt two blocks ago because of the hits he received during his fight with Fred, but Simon wasn’t going to stop now. He was leading the run.
He turned what he believed to be a corner, and ran into a dead end. Then, he looked around, hoping to realize that his brain was fooling him into seeing that, but no. There were four boxes full of rotten fruit, an enormous closet, and dozens of black bags…
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It was obvious Fred had seen him get into that alley. Surely he was already fantasizing with the one hundred ways he was going to torture Simon as soon as he got his hands on him.
Simon heard his haunter’s fast and threatening footsteps. He analyzed his options once again. Boxes, bags, closet…
He stepped into a little puddle in his way to the closet. Closed its doors so fast, that he almost hurt his fingers. The closet wasn’t that large, so he had to remain still, so that damn old piece of furniture wouldn’t fall into pieces.
His socks were wet. Those were his best socks.
There was a minuscule space between the doors that allow him to see Freud running into the same dead-end Simon had.
But, instead of being confused, Freud grinned. The blood coming out his nose had dried and, with his crooked teeth, his appearance was even scarier than normal.
Simon still didn’t fully understand where he had gotten the courage to turn around and punch him right on the face. Laura had told him not to do that.
“Never hit the nose, Simon. You could kill someone.”
But Simon had done it. He had disobeyed Laura.
Laura had also advised him not to hear what Freud had to say about him. It was simpler than what he expected; Simon could bear with dignity all the comments about his ragged clothes, his old shoes, or his not so good looks. He could even bear when Freud started calling him “rat” and all his classmates followed the trend.
Laura would be so disappointed at him for using brute strength before words. His mother would be too. His father probably would say something between the lines: “My boy finally is starting to turn into a real man”, and the baby… well, she wouldn’t say anything. She was a baby.
But what Fred had said to him…
It comforted him knowing that if Laura had heard what Freud said, she would have hit him too.
“Where are you, little rat?” Asked Freud with a trace of mockery in his words. “Look at you. Running. Like a rat. Like your whore sister.”
The day was gray. A faint ray of light illuminated the blade of the jackknife Freud held. The image of that blade stabbing Simon in the chest, was enough for him to not get out of his hide spot and broke Freud’s nose.
“They said she tried to run,” Freud keep saying while he looked for him in a big trashcan, “but I don’t think so. I think she even enjoyed it.”
Freud kicked the boxes. Yeah, because Simon was hiding between that old fruit.
“And even if she hadn’t, I say it again: she deserved it,” Freud sentenced, disgusted by the stench that the fruits emanated. “Prodigies like her had always been freaks. Dangerous freaks. I don’t fucking care how many Ace fucking Anarchy appear to defend you and try to scare the shit out of us, we won’t bow before you. Do you hear me? WE WON’T BOW!”
Simon wasn’t a prodigy. Laura’s powers were creating bubbles. Since when bubbles were dangerous? Since when being able to make them out of thin air was an excuse to kill someone the way they killed his sister?
Before he realized, Freud’s eyes met his.
He had found him.
“No one humiliates me and lives to tell the story, rat.”
Freud opened the door wide, and Simon was ready to be stabbed when a third figure appeared behind the older boy.
“That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”
Freud frowned. He cleaned the blood off his face, and slowly turn around to see the face of the one who dared to defy him. Simon couldn’t help but poke his head over his bully’s shoulder.
He was a blond kid, not older than him. He wore black frame glasses, attached with a piece of tape. His blue eyes looked at Freud with disapproval with which no one had ever dared to look at him.
“Do I know you?” asked Freud after laughing his ass off.
“I’m just saying that, if you have a problem with someone, you report that person with the school’s authorities,” the blonde boy kept saying, ignoring Freud’s question. “It’s not good taking justice into your own hands. It just causes more trouble.”
“Shut up!” Freud screamed as he pushed the blonde boy into the same pond Simon had stepped in a few moments back.
The most surprising thing, however, wasn’t how calm the boy looked when he was facing Freud. It was that he never stopped talking.
“Is that a jackknife?” he asked. Freud looked at the object he carried “Do you take it with you to school? Sharp weapons are not allowed inside school grounds. I’m afraid I’m going to tell a teacher about this.”
Freud cried with hatred and lunged at him, the jackknife ready to kill him. However, the blade broke as soon as it made contact with the blond boy's side.
Before he could process what had just happened, a silver stake sprang out of nowhere and narrowly pierced Freud's shoulder. He managed to move just in time for it to only leave a deep cut.
Simon wouldn’t deny it: Freud almost getting pierced by a stake gave him a morbid sense of satisfaction. His scared, hurt, and confused gaze almost made him cry of pure happiness. How blissful (and relieved) he felt when Freud ran away from the scene.
Just like a scared rat.
The blond boy had dropped shoulders and glasses on the tip of his nose. From his looks, he looked like one of the sons of those businessmen, who lived in those big houses in the northwest of the city. However, his clothes were as old as Simon's. He looked apprehensively at the stake as drops of blood stained his gray sneakers. He didn't see that he had it while he was reading Freud about good behavior, and it was too big to keep in his pockets. It was as if he had created it out of nothing.
And maybe he had.
Immediately, he regained composure and smiled.
“You can go out now!” he exclaimed animatedly. “He's gone”
Didn't he see him standing in that old closet? He was literally in front of him.
As if hearing his thoughts, the blond boy turned to the closet and his face lit up. Simon wanted to run away when he saw him approach with abnormal enthusiasm on his part, but there was nowhere to move.
“Amazing!” the boy yelled. He looked in all directions and muttered, “You are like me.”
“Sorry?”
“Don't be scared, I'm with you,” he whispered. “My name is Hugh.”
He held out his hand. Simon accepted it out of sheer courtesy.
“How old are you?”
“Eight.”
“I had never met a prodigy my age.”
“I am not a prodigy,” Simon clarified.
Hugh's smile froze.
“But I just saw you use your powers.”
“I run very fast to run away from the gangsters,” he said sarcastically. “It comes naturally.”
He gave a loud laugh. Making him laugh was not his intention at all.
“No, I am talking about the other power.”
“What other power?”
“That you turn invisible!”
Hugh quickly covered his mouth and Simon released his hand. He hadn't realized all the time he had been holding it until now. Hugh had a very strong grip.
“Sorry, it was not my intention to shout it,” he mumbled. “I know that sometimes it is better to go unnoticed.”
“Have you stabbed someone else?”
His smile disappeared for a moment.
“I usually don’t do that.”
He did not believe him. There were times when people sometimes had to do things to survive that they were not proud of. But, well, Hugh could continue lying to himself. It was not his job to get him out of his bubble.
“Freud deserved that and more.”
Hugh looked up to protest, but instead said:
“You’ve done it again!”
To hell with this.
Simon raised his arms to push him away, just to realize he was wrong: Hugh was not crazy.
His hands... his entire body was completely invisible.
He moved his fingers and felt the movement. Then his legs. The atmosphere seemed to distort slightly every time he moved. He blinked hard, hoping that when he opened his eyes again, he would realize that it was all a dream, and he was lying down, with his sister preparing to take him to school.
However, he opened them and his sister was not there. He guessed then, neither did his mother.
It was just him and Hugh.
This can’t be true.
His mother and Laura were the only prodigies in the family. They always knew that there was a possibility that Simon was a prodigy too, but after a certain time, they began to realize that he wasn't. Before she died, his mother said she hoped the baby wasn't a prodigy, either. It was best for everyone.
Now, his family's worst nightmares had come true. How was he going to explain to his father what had just happened? How was he going to react? Was he going to kick his son out of the house? If that happened, where would he go? What was to become of him?
He was panicking, and Hugh wouldn't stop looking at him like he was a Christmas present under the tree. That didn’t help.
His hands appeared.
“Your power is so cool,” said Hugh.
“I swear to you, this is the first time I've done this,” he whispered.
Again, the frozen smile.
“Are you serious?”
“Completely serious.”
Hugh adjusted his glasses, shocked.
“I'm sorry,” he said awkwardly.
“Why?”
“Because ... this is not how origin stories should be,” he replied.
Oh, that.
“It doesn't matter,” he replied. He wasn’t lying, the topic never concerned him. However, now he had the feeling that he should be concerned.
“I've seen you at school,” said Hugh, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, I am the rat,” he blurted out angrily.
Hugh shook his head.
“I wasn't going to say that. You're Simon Westwood,” he corrected him. “You're Laura Westwood's brother. She worked at the pawnshop.”
“I was her brother,” he corrected.
“You are her brother.”
Simon did not want to continue arguing. He had already realized that it was not worth trying to win an argument over that guy.
“Did you create that stake?” he asked. “I mean, out of the blue?”
“Yes…” he replied showing him the stake. “I'm not proud. It's just that sometimes when someone attacks me like that, they just... appear? Like a defense mechanism or something. But I'm working on it.”
“What is it made of?”
“Chromium. That’s what my auntie says.”
Simon looked at the stake. There it was again, that morbid feeling…
“I've never seen a prodigy using their powers for good,” said Simon thoughtfully.
“I didn't do something good,” Hugh replied. “I almost killed someone”
Laura would have said, “Please, a shoulder injury doesn't kill anyone.” But Simon said:
“You would have done the right thing killing him.”
“What did he do to you?”
Oh, boy, what he hadn't done to him.
The insults, the teasing. Although, the beating was something new. Freud must have been bored of not receiving any reaction with the verbal attacks, so they evolved into physical attacks. The first was after Laura's funeral.
How crazy do you have to be to do that to someone who had just lost his sister?
That had been going on for two weeks now, and Simon put up with it, just like before. But he was never going to allow anyone to mess with her family.
“He said Laura deserved it,” he replied.
Hugh went silent.
He heard a pair of thunder in the distance.
“We should go to our houses,” Simon said.
He stood up and went to the street. Freud's jackknife was on the ground. The blade was next to the red, plastic handle. He took both of them very carefully and put them back together. It wasn't tight at all and surely was going to break in the slightest attempt to cut something or attack someone, but it was still menacing.
Without much thought, he picked it up and put it in his pocket. Just in case.
“Hey,” Hugh called out, still sitting in the closet. Simon turned to see “Where do you live?”
“Over there,” and pointed to his right.
Hugh smiled again. He hadn't realized he had dimples on his cheeks. Surely they had formed it after giving away so many smiles.
“What a coincidence,” he said. “Me too”.
Then Simon smiled back at him. It was an honest smile.
When was the last time he had smiled like that?
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trashballerina · 4 years
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Hetalia Fics I Really Like
this  ⭐ will be for fics I really like. I’ll try not to star everything.
I’m starting with my favorite of all time and tbh I think the fandom should see this fic as a OG, like Auf Weiderstein Sweetheart or Gutters, I really do.
Are We Even Humans  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ (Literally all the stars)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103344
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660761/chapters/25048773 (prequel)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7036330/chapters/16007758 (sequel)
The war is over, but putting together everything that fell apart will be a greater challenge than anyone is prepared to handle. Alliances dissolve, and the lines between friends and enemies are blurrier than ever before.
Opinion: Please read it. It is a series with a sequel and a prequel that can be read on its own but it’s so good. Imma go on a quick rant here. This fic is great from the writing, plot, characters, and the nuances of nationhood abilities. I literally rioted during the first chapter because it was so good. One of my absolutely favorite things in the fic and the series as a whole is Prussia. Kingdom of Prussia, German Democratic Republic, Gilbert Beilschmidt. His character progression and seeing him through the series as a whole is astounding. I was literally left shaken at the end of this series and I’ve read it twice. The OC’s are usually the antagonists, but hot damn, they are memorable OC’s who are great (terrible?) villains. And the family dynamics! The family dynamics are enough of a reason to read it by itself and the romances. Omg I love this fic so much. Main takeaways: astounding characterization, amazing plot, will cry, long read, and a reality check on what it means to be a nation.
Would it be too much if I did a separate post on how much I love this series and an in depth analysis? (I feel like such a nerd omg)
Hard Times Passing 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516458/chapters/56397817
Alfred is homeless during the Great Depression and in his wanderings he's charged with the task of caring for a small orphaned Taiwan. AU-Human names used, Taiwan is a child.
Opinion: So incredibly heart warming. It’s well written and I love the dialogue so much. Also, the little cameos from other characters are an absolute delight. It’s a it short, but so wholesome.
Flowers Don’t Grow on Battlefields  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/14153106/chapters/32619954
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898919/chapters/39697068 (sequel)
As war tightens its hold on the nations of the world, new alliances are formed. Nobody will escape the war unscathed. Italy only hopes that this time, he will find a way to save those he holds dearest.
Opinion: I realllly like this fic. Maybe I’m a bit bias because I remember reading it from like to third chapter and watching it get updated till the end, but this is really good. Cute gerita, great characterization, good plot, and some lines just really make me melt. And the fluff omg. There’s a sequel that’s linked under too that I may like more than the first. 
Who Knew (One Shot)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516695#main
“The last time the two of them had any sort of contact was when Gilbert sent the letter to Matthew before the first war started.
That was twenty-six years ago. Twenty-six years Matthew had not seen Gilbert. Twenty-six years of Matthew worrying about if his fiancé was alive or not. Twenty-six years of Matthew thinking about all the horrible things that could be happening to Gilbert. Twenty-six years of Matthew wishing he could just see Gilbert, even if it were just for a second. Twenty-six years of pure hell for Matthew. Twenty-six years of being all alone.”
Matthew Williams, the personification of Canada, never thought that he would fall in love, but he did. He fell in love with Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia, but their romance would have to be cut short with the up coming war that was soon approaching them.
Opinion: My god my heart. Matthew had great characterization. Like amazingly so. 10/10 somber and melodic tones throughout the story. Good tension. And again, my heart. 
TELL ME A PIECE OF YOUR HISTORY  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741175/chapters/8294941#workskin
An account of the media reactions to the reveal of Nations (anthropomorphic national embodiments) with scholarly commentary.
Heavily inspired by: United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) [fallingvoices, radialarch] with mixed genres.
Opinion: It’s really cool. It’s told through media, like email, twitter, texts, online magazines, subtitles of videos (not actual videos tho). I love the outside view point of the world on nations and how some people really like them and how others absolutely despise their very existence. One of the main things that sticks out the me is the in depth analysis other humans or posters do on the nations and people even interview the nations, chapter eight is like my favorite for that reason, or how some humans just gush about the nations on so media like how half the fandom does lol. It’s really good. Super creative, great insight on how to world sees the nations, and honestly a great read.
Red Winter (One shot and crossover!)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/909492
The Winter Soldier's new target: a Russian politician named Ivan Braginsky.
Things don't go as planned.
Opinion: Literally so cool. Like nations are total BS to outsiders, especially assassins. I was loosing it during this fic because from Bucky’s POV nations are something else. The writing is really solid and the author uses italics to highlight an action sound or word and even single-word thoughts. The fight scene is really entertaining but also it flows fantastically. 
In Costa Rica (Oneshot)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614041
“You have this backwards,” McLaughlin said. “Everything. You have it all backwards.” He was a lithe man, looked to be in his mid-thirties. Schnabel leaned back in his chair. Outside, the afternoon rain started, and the frogs momentarily fell silent. “They are dangerous, aren’t they?” Two men discuss the nations and history.
Opinion: No actual nations appear in this fic. It’s just two men talking about the nations and it’s really interesting to see them humor and take seriously the idea of nations. They both discuss what they already know about the nations and theorize. Also hearing an outside perspective and how the nations effect the word around them is golden. I give this fic a big ol’ chef’s kiss. 
Finally, I’ll Just Miss You! (Oneshot)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15553608
Countries will be abolished tomorrow. For the first time, they breathe and realize this might be their last breath and they’ll never wake up again. They want to wake up, they want to go to sleep, the land will still be there when they’re gone. But they breathe, it won’t be the same- for once, they feel human.
Opinion: Bro, I swear I’m not crying. This one is short but really bittersweet and my heart really hurts. I like the snippets of insight on the characters. 
Diamond in the Rough  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12872642/1/
The year is 1952, the last full year of Joseph Stalin's rule over the Soviet Union. After an incident with Latvia, Estonia is determined to find out what Russia did to him. And so unfolds a chain of events that would lead the Baltic States to tears, to forgiveness, to unexpected courage and horrifying discoveries about the mysterious past of Gilbert Beilschmidt. See AN for rating.
Opinion: This just be a legitimate book. I have honestly read this one like three time and every time I read it I am absolutely elated to discover another detail or action I missed. It is a longer read but I think it is absolutely worth it. For one, the characterization is beautiful. Maybe I might be bias because I stan and love the Baltics, but how they are written compared to the many other fics I’ve read on them is phenomenal. While the author does take some creative liberties and deviates from canon a little, like the Baltics actually considering themselves to be brothers, I really enjoy the changes. ALSO, the history and research and on this fic is genuinely impressive. To think fic authors do this shit for fun and pour so much of their passion into a piece of writing. Secondly, while Russia may be an antagonist in this story, I honestly think it is just. His mentality, backstory, and current predicament explain his behavior and make him a justifiable antagonist. I highly recommend this one. 
Adieux (Oneshot)
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6700886/1/
What happens to nations after they cease to exist? Do they simply disappear or do they get a second chance? It wasn't a subject Francis was particularly keen on finding out about...but at the same time, it wasn't something he could just ignore. One-shot
Opinion: I hate this fic because I love it way too much. I might of cried a little bit and I instantly melt of Francis and Matthew. 
In Our Solemn Hour (incomplete) ⭐
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8975529/30/In-Our-Solemn-Hour
The time was World War II, at the dawn of a global conflict like nothing any of the Nations had ever seen before. Nothing could've prepared them for what lay ahead: a war more total and radical than anything they could ever have imagined. This wasn't just business as usual; it was centuries' worth of pent-up emotions all coming into play at once. This was indeed their darkest hour.
Opinion: Characterization is on point. One part of this fic I remember very well during a fight to the death, Finland mutters a little “Oh dear”. The characters retain some of the qualities that make them silly in Hetalia but because this is another take on it it does get darker. I think Germany’s portrayal is my favorite because he does cruel and unnesscary things and questions it because its not his usal nature. The author notes are super insightful and sometimes funny; it really adds to the rest of the story. I might revisit this post to make a more in depth opinion on it because I don’t remember it all to well when I know I really like this one.
So that was my post lol. I’ll probably make more on other fandoms later tbh or I’ll just make a part two. If you end up reading about any of these posts, please feel free to tell me about them! I love talking about fics and reading in general. Thanks for reading!
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fastcstman · 4 years
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Look, it’s WALLY WEST from earth-2327! I hear they go by THE FLASH and they’re currently A MECHANIC AT THE ACADEMY (sometimes). I noticed they’re BRAVE & LOVING, but also kinda STUBBORN & VINDICTIVE. I can’t wait to see what they do next!
so i’m going to try and keep this very short & sweet because wally’s a character with a lot of very confusing history.  i’ll hit the highlights, talk about where wally is in his life right now, and then if anyone wants to flesh out a connection, we can explore his history a little further. 
- he’s the fastest man alive ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hello, ladies. when he was a kid he had an accident similar to the one that barry had and was struck by lightning.  hello speed force.  he has a particular connection to the speed force because he later spent a lot of time stuck in it but back to that in a second. 
- he grew up w/ abusive/neglective parents but loved spending as much time as possible with his aunt iris and uncle barry!  they were such a huge and kind influence on him at a young age. 
- shortly after developing powers and hanging out w/ barry for a while, wally joined the teen titans as kid flash.  the og teen titans / titans were his first team and sort of the team he feels most at home with!  the team went thru some drama and death, and when barry died, wally left to take his place on the justice league. 
- in his early twenties, wally met, married, and had a set of twins with linda park -- the first great love of his life.  without retelling all the thousands of comics that encompassed the thing, eventually wally had to choose between losing his family or going into the speed force w/ them. linda chose to come with wally.  together they left this particular reality and lived a life together elsewhere. 
- after some multiversal collapse issues, wally got stuck in the speed force.  about five or six years ago, wally ended up back in THIS reality but without his family. so as he began to remember them and understand what happened, he formulated an idea to go back in and get them. so when he did, he was gone for about 8 more months in real-time, but they are back!  that was about two years ago.  his twins, irey and jai, are about eight years old now! 
- multiple stints WITHIN the speed force for extended periods of time have strengthened wally’s connection w/ the speed force significantly.  he has a deep understanding of it, and is able to channel it more effectively than most other speedsters. 
- he’s sort of transitioning back to working with the titans, but he’s still pretty attached to his JL friends, so he’s splitting his time.  wally isn’t super comfortable teaching, so he works with anyone at the academy who needs cars and whatnot repaired.  he spent a while as a mechanic of the police department in keystone, so he’s happy to lend a hand where needed.  
- his kids, irey and jai, are about eight years old, though age is a bit tricky w/ how much time they spent not around.
- since we’re in a crossover marvel / dc universe please do not be at all nervous about approaching me for pre-established connections. i love friends, mentor/mentee dynamics, exes, rivals, enemies, literally everything!!!  
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jaxteller87 · 5 years
Text
silent
I was sitting on the bed holding my phone in my hands, the doctor had just called with my blood results.
“What? What’s wrong? Is it more than a UTI?” Jax came into the room with a worried look on his face.
“Yeah,” I said softly as he sat down next to me.
“Whatever it is babe, we’ll get through it, I promise,” Jax said taking my hands in his and kissing them gently.
“I’m pregnant, babe,” I said softly. There was silent for a few seconds as we looked at each other, “so, are you okay with that?” I said worried about how we were going to bring another Teller into the fold.  
“Of course, Amber. We’re going to have another baby!” he beamed and looked at me up and down. “Are you okay with it though? You can be honest with me,” he kissed my hands again before planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. After all these years the forehead kisses were still the best.
“I’m worried about how we are going to do this. We have this wonderful routine with Mary and Thomas, adding another Teller will be hard work both for you and the family. When I’m further along in the pregnancy, you’re going to be exhausted taking both care of me and the kids,” I shrugged and sighed before smiling at him, “but I’m also overjoyed. A part of me always wanted to give you five children,” I laughed and so did Jax.
“I’d say three out of five isn’t bad, babe,” Jax smirked and kissed my lips softly, “we’re going to have another baby,” he repeated, and I squealed falling back on to the bed and pulling Jax with me.
“I do worry about you too,” Jax said as we sat on both our sides of the bed.
“You? Worried about me? Nooo, I would have never guessed,” I teased trying to lighten the mood.
“When you’re eight months along I do know how tough the pregnancy gets on your body, doing everyday things because harder for you,” Jax ran his finger over my cheek and it made it tingle down my spine.
“Actually, it’s not too much other than I get tried faster  it seems like I pee  every 5 seconds,” I giggled, “the only thing I ask of you Jackson, is when I’m having major mood swings, please remember to be patient with me,” I smiled at him.
“Always sweetheart,” he whispered with his face inching closer to mine to kiss me again. After a few seconds we pull apart and Jax gently rubs my belly. “Welcome to the family, little one,” he whispered with a smile. He looked up at me with a wondering face, “so how did you…”
“Jackson did you mom ever tell you about how when two people love each other,” I run my fingers through his hair as I teased him and he frowned and laughed.
“I know how! I just mean how life has been pulling us in different directions lately, we haven’t had much time to have fun,” Jax kissed me on the cheek.
“I thought the same thing to be honest,” I said as I got comfortable in Jax’ arms, “but remember a few weeks ago we sent the kids over to Gemma’s?”
“Oh yeah, I turned you every which way but loose,” Jax smirked rubbing his nose against mine.
The next morning, I scheduled my first doctor’s appointment.
“You want to go with me, right?” I asked Jax as I was on hold.
“Of course, babe,” Jax smiled taking a sip of his morning coffee.
Later that night Jackson came home with something in a bag, my first thought was that it was something for the kids, he was always bringing some little things for them home.
“Jackson,” I giggled as he handed me a teddy bear and prenatal vitamins, “I love you baby,” I chuckled as he leaned in for a kiss.
The next day we went to the doctor’s appointment.
“Everything looks good so far,” Dr. Lock smiled looking at the screen.
I looked up at Jax with a relieved look on my face and he leaned down to kiss my forehead with a big smile on his face.
The next few weeks went by as normal with school, work, taking care of the kids and before I knew it I had my second appointment with the doctor.
Jax helped me get up on the table and a few minutes later the doctor entered the room and put gel all over my belly. I started to squeeze Jax’ hand tighter when we didn’t hear any heartbeat right away.
“I may just have to move the wand over a bit,” the doctor said sensing my immediate worry.
After trying to find a heartbeat for a few minutes the doctor put down the wand with a sad look on her face.
“No,” I whispered as tears immediately started to form in my eyes, “I haven’t felt any cramping og bleeding, I’ve felt like normal.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a silent miscarriage. There are no signs when it happens, there’s no rhyme or reason for it,” the doctor said as she placed a hand on my shoulder to comfort me, “I want you to understand, Amber, that this has nothing to do with you, you did nothing wrong. Miscarriages happen out of the blue, it’s not your fault in any way.”
I nodded as I wiped the tears away. The doctor left the room to give us some privacy and I broke down and buried my face in Jax’ chest as I started sobbing.
“It’s okay, darlin’, we’re going to get through this,” he whispered into my hair as tears fell down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Jax, please forgive me,” I sobbed and it must’ve been difficult for Jackson to even understand me.
“Don’t start with that, honey,” Jax said firmly wiping his face before looking down at me, “you heard what the doctor said, this is not your fault.”
The doctor came back into the room before we left to reassure us that it wasn’t our fault and that she had just told the nurse she wished everyone took care of themselves like we did.
For the rest of the day we were busy taking care of the kids, Jax and I didn’t really have much time to talk.
“Mama, please don’t be sad, I hate it when you’re sad,” Mary said later that night wrapping her arms around me giving me a tight hug.
“Thank you, baby, you have no idea how much this hug means to mama,” I whispered as I tried to hide my tears, “why don’t you go over and give daddy one of your precious hugs too?”
I watched as Mary walked over to Jax and climbed up into his chair with him to give him a hug.
“Thank you, princess,” I heard him say and it made me smile.
Later that night Jax and I was in the bedroom.
“How are you? Physical, I mean,” he asked softly wrapping his arms tightly around me, tighter than usual.
“I feel fine, that’s what I can’t seem to wrap my head around, I felt nothing. I thought everything was okay,” I shook my head and sighed softly into Jax’ chest. “How are you, honey?” I whispered looking up at him, he didn’t say anything but only shrugged his shoulders.
I looked down at his arm and admired his new ‘beast’ tattoo as I traced the letters.
“It turned out perfect,” I smiled softly.
“So did yours,” he whispered gently caressing the ‘beauty’ tattoo on my arm.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized for myself as I started to cry again.
“No, sweetheart, don’t be sorry. Everything is going to be okay,” Jax whispered and kissed my forehead.
“I know,” I whispered with a small and brittle voice before hugging his waist.
Jax and I depended on each other the new week and helped each other in any way we could. One day the sun was out and Jax plopped me down on his back and handed me a helmet before hopping on himself.
“Hang on, baby,” he said as we went roaring down the road. We went down our favorite path with a view over the town.
“How are you feeling?” Jax asked once we parked on a hill and took our helmets off.
“Physical or?”
“Both,” he answered before pulling me onto his lap by my hips. I rested my forehead against his.
“Good, in both ways,” I smiled and looked him in the eyes, “how are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, mostly just worried about you,” he chuckled, he knew that was nothing new.
The next day on my lunch break, I found a quote with the beauty and the beast which fit Jax and I perfectly, so I just had to send it to him.
‘Every beauty needs her beast to protect her from everything but him.’
A few seconds later my phone dinged.
Always baby, until we’re old and grey!
I smiled as big as I could for the first time in weeks.
I love you, Jax! I hope you’re having a great day.
You too baby ;)
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changarroo · 5 years
Text
Ortum // Jeongin AU
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❖ summary: Aroma this was your city, the city that has been your home since the begin of your life. Now with the rising class getting ready to graduate and enter the position that the company has in store. But after one secret was revealed to you it changed your whole view of your life.
❖ a/n: so I'm a sucker for you dystopia books and movies and the Miroh music video reminded me of that genre SO HERE WE ARE EVERYONE. Also, can we talk about how cute Jeongin looks in this gif?! Thank you @luvknow for the cute gif. Another HUGE thanks to one of the biggest Jeongin stans I know *cough* @bhubblemilk (ily girly) who gave me the inspiration to write a Jeongin au
word count: 1.7k
genre: dystopia au, angst
pairing: jeongin x reader
warning: violence, drug, and death warning
part 2 // Casum
In this city, everyone is equal, no imperfection, no division, no chaos. This city has been your home since you were born and you never knew what life was like beforehand. You only heard stories about the Founding Company rejecting the lifestyle that was before them, leaving and creating Aroma, a place where everyone knows there a place in life.
As one of the rising alumni of the Academy, you were ready to commit to the board that you are willing to take up any responsibility that they gifted you and bring leadership to the city. A celebration is normally in order but this celebration was going to be different. Lucky for you, your class is the last of the honorary class meaning when the city was first created everyone your age was just a baby.
“Finally Y/N we are graduating and entering the real world,” your friend said with joy on there face as they sat in the sit in front of you. “Yeah I know and we the last of the OG that kinda cool,” closing your book and setting it perfectly in the corner of your desk. You might be a little bit of an organizational freak but hey that helps to get the attention of the Company right? “Ugh this is so heartbreaking I only have a week in class with you until we are officially adults,” y/f/n said leaning back onto your desk. “Oh how heartbreaking,” you placed your hand over your heart and soon the two of you softly chuckled.
Once your professor walked in everything became silent and the class had begun. He talked about the upcoming celebration and what we as students should expect. Finally, he ended the class by discussing your final assignment as a student ever. Lucky you, it happened to be a partner project, unlucky you, your professor already picked out everyone partners.
Walking up to the board you had your figures cross that you got paired with y/f/n, but as your luck turned out you got paired with the most introverted person in your class, Yang Jeongin. You had nothing against him at all it was just he NEVER talked to anyone in your class. There was even a rumor going around that he didn’t have any friends, but that rumor was busted about a year ago when some classmates saw him hanging out with students who already graduated.
Deep breathe in and out it goes you turned around and started to walk towards his desk. “Um so I guess we are partners,” you walked over and sat down in the chair in front of him. All he did was look up at you and then lowered his head back down to his notebook. “What are you writing?” you asked just trying to start a normal conversation like one normally does. “Nothing to your importance,” he said softly positioning himself in a way where you couldn’t see the notebook. You thought to yourself “How can one no want to share? We live in a city where the Company loves to hear the new ideas of the young minded. Why are you hiding something that could be revolutionary?”.
“Okay now, before I go into more details about your final project we are going to practice a ritual that will be performed at the ceremony. I believe everyone knows what it is right?” your professor stood up from his desk and walked over the podium that was located in front of the classroom. One girl in your classes raised her hand and responded “The Ritual of Remembrance, a way to remember those who fallen trying to build Aroma and to glance into what our place has for us”.
“Correct,” he said pushing a button that was located under the podium “soon you will be given a pill that will show you the events of the past as if you were there and your outcome of the future. In a moment of seconds, men wearing whites outfits come in with trays with mini cups. They set one cup on every desk and soon people were taking it.
Soon you were in a world that only you could see. Looking around it looked like you were in a room with a bar window and light that's shining throw it. The door them open as you ran quickly towards it you saw people walking in with chains on. Passing through you, looking ahead you saw the Company guards standing with shields and guns.
“You can’t remove the past the create a new future” a male voice yelled from across the room. “Starting over isn’t going to solve the problem, your one-sided ways are going to changed the future” another man yelled out. The general had enough snapped his fingers and pointed at the two men. Guards walked over unchained them and pushed them onto the ground and began to deadly beat them to death.
A look of shocked appeared on you as you backed away from the dead man that was now in front of you. A cry of a baby began and you turned around looking at the family. You walked towards them and looked at the mother trying to comfort her baby. “Ah how cute,” the general leaned over and looked at the baby. Within seconds the baby was taken away the family. You could feel the heartbreaking of the mother as she was forced to let go of her child. “Sir there is another baby over here,” one of the guards said pointing to another family. “Take them away, since they are young we can raise them to the Company standards,” he then turned away and walked outside of the room with two guards following with the babies.
With everyone else locked in the room, you heard a buzzer beginning to go off and then mist going off. Knowing that nothing was going to harm you, you wonder what the mist was for. In a matter of seconds, you saw the people in the room slowly fall into a deep slumber. You didn’t want to believe that the Company was killing them, but looking at the chest of the citizens you know right away your fear was the actual reality. Was everyone seeing this? Adults, elders, children who were above the age of three all dying.
With horror in your eyes, you ran out of the room and into another room where you saw too young adults seating at a table. Soon one of the members of the Company walked into with a baby in her hand. “We know that with your condition it is impossible for you to have a child of your own, luckily someone was giving this baby up for adoption due to the lack of care the birth parents could provide,” the Company member said handing the baby over to the woman. Walking closer you had a look at the child and it was one of the babies that was taken away  from it’s family. Looking up at the couple you faced the  true reality “mom, dad?” softly escaped your mouth as you couldn’t believe the events that were taking place right now.
Your eyes then opened and you were back sitting in front of Jeongin who two looked like he saw something. Looking around the room everyone else seems at peace like they saw what Amora was built up to be,,, perfect. This whole city was masking the fact that they were trying to eliminate everyone who didn’t fit into the perfect bubble and brainwashing people to believe the lies for years. And you were sadly a victim.
Once everyone was dismissed you quickly looked for Jeongin seeing if he saw something similar to what you saw. “Jeongin please, I need to talk to you,” you run up to him grabbing onto his shoulder. When you touched him you felt a shocking feeling in your head “ouch” you said under your breath hoping that Jeongin didn’t hear you but he did. He grabbed onto your hand and brought you to a small storage closet.
“You found out the truth didn’t you because of the pill right?” he asked looking at you directly in your eyes. With a scared looked on your face, you slowly nod indicating that you know. “How old were you when you found out?” you asked, “since you clearly weren’t as terrified as me”. “About a year ago,” he replied looking down at the ground. The room went silent for a few minutes, you were still trying to wrap your head around what happened and was afraid to ask more questions about it.
“How did you found out?” you looked up at him again, you could tell that it was clearly a hard topic to talk about but you were curious. “A senior who graduated about four years ago was the first one to know about what the Company planned. They wanted to pave the way for the future, a future of perfection. But to succeed they have to eliminate the imperfection, so everyone was tested if one passed there life was spared but if one didn’t well you know what happened,”.
“But my birth parents they- according to what happened I’m an imperfection,” your voice cracked just thinking about the death of hundreds in the room. “We were babies at the time, we were brought up believing we were perfect and brainwashed to the highest standards,” Jeongin leaned back on a wall and slowly began to slide down sitting on the ground. You bent down and sat next to him “so the reason you never talked to anyone besides those eight boys is due to the fact that,”. “We are all imperfect,” he interrupted you “the Company needs to know that what they are doing is wrong, and we intend to put a stop to this charade”.
“Well, are you looking for another imperfect? Because I’m willing to fight by your guys' side,” you looked at him with anger in your eyes and ready for justice. “It’s going to be messy Y/N,” that was the first time you heard him say your name before and honestly, you could get used to it. “I’m ready to put an end to this war,” you said holding onto his hand tightly.
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nickireadstfc · 6 years
Text
The King’s Men, Chapter 16 – A Team Of Particularly Good Finders
In which I find a new favourite team, Kevin’s angrier half makes an entrance, I find a new favourite team, keys are distributed, faceclaims are suggested, and I find a new favourite team.
Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The King’s Men.
             Saturday morning Wymack stopped by Fox Tower with a guest. (…)
             “Thea,” Kevin finally said, and scrambled to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
Oh HECK YES.
I’ve been waiting for this gal ever since she was first mentioned, and my dudes my pals my homies, let me tell you – her presence does not disappoint.
Thea Muldani is big and buff and bench-presses male egos for breakfast, but also wears pastel makeup, braids and dresses like Beyoncé herself gave her fashion advice.
A certified Boss Ass Bitch, you say? Absolutely.
A definite, definite Venus Williams faceclaim, you say?
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Alternatively also Serena Williams?
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Absolutely.
Like Kevin, Thea also left the Ravens, but she seems to have quite a different relationship to them than he does.
             Even though Thea graduated from Edgar Allan almost three years ago she still wore her Raven jersey number on a pendant around her throat.
Interesting.
Neil then wonders how ex-Ravens fare out there in the Real World, and he voices my thoughts precisely: Do they recover? Do they hang on? And if they do, is it because they’re broken, or out of choice?
This is Interesting Shit that I am very, very much intrigued to know more about. Since I’m not sure we’ll have quite enough time to get into this in what’s left of this book, if anyone has any fic recs dealing with this (= post-Raven recovery), hit me the hell up.
However sadly, Thea is not here to answer my deep psychological musings, and is instead very much here to tear Kevin a new one.
Or five.
             “I always wanted to talk, but it was complicated.”
             “’Complicated’,” Thea echoed. The air quotes she threw him were angry and mocking. “’Complicated’ is having to find out from a press conference that you broke your hand and left the line-up. ‘Complicated’ is finding out the hard way you disconnected your old number and having to hear from Jean that you didn’t want anything to do with any of us effective immediately. Don’t you dare use ‘complicated’ against me. I deserve better than that.”
OH SHIT.
Exy Venus Williams is mad, y’all – and completely in the right, because Kevin, you done fucked up.
Anyone who figuratively leaves his girlfriend on ‘read’ for two years deserves to have the shit bitched out of them publicly.
However, Kevin has a magic trick to at least somewhat calm his angrier half down:
Fellow ex-Raven and resident human ground beef Jean Valjean Moreau.
They go see him, but like puppies left out in the rain we don’t get to go with, which is a damn shame because I’m getting increasingly interested in how our favourite baguette is going to continue his trauma-filled existence.
             “You assume [Nicky] will survive until summer [because he’s annoying the hell out of Andrew with his Andreil shipping],” Andrew said.
             “You break him, you owe me a new defenseman,” Wymack said.
Bahahahaha.
Found this chapter’s #dicksoutforwymack, that line was gold, small as it was.
             “You have one at Abby’s house.”
DAMN RIGHT. Anyone up for some Fox!Jean? Yes? Yes?
Apparently, not Kevin and Jean, who have irreparably damages their athletic compatibility at the Batcave of Extra, so Fox!Jean is a thing we may have to keep to fanfic.
Again – a damn shame.
What is decidedly not a damn shame is that Wymack has a lil something for Andrew, and when I found out what it was I may or may not have shed a lil tear of pride.
             Keys jangled as they hit the carpet, and Neil stared in disbelief. He couldn’t be right, except last summer Wymack had given Neil three new keys, too: a set for all the important doors at the Foxhole Court. (…) “Kevin said to give you those.”
KEVIN IS TRUSTING ANDREW WITH STADIUM KEYS.
KEVIN IS EXPLICITLY INVITING ANDREW TO COME PRACTICE WHENEVER AND UNSUPERVISED.
KEVIN IS STARTING TO BELIEVE IN ANDREW’S FUTURE AS A PROFESSIONAL SPORTSBALL PLAYER EVEN IF ANDREW MAY NOT BE.
KEVIN IS TRUSTING ANDREW WITH STADIUM KEYS.
KEYS!!!!!!!!!!
This has got to be the fourth or fifth time this series has made me emotional about fucking keys, what in the absolute fuck.
             [Neil’s] heart was pounding. (…) He thought about fighting for a spot on the US Court and facing the best the world had to offer, Kevin at his side and Andrew at his back.
When will the Kandreil feels end, my money is on fucking never.
With this preliminary banter done, we move on to what’s really important in this chapter:
The first NCAA Exy championship semi-final; University of Southern California Trojans vs Palmetto State University Foxes.
Or, as I like to call it – USC Hufflepuffs vs Kevin Day’s Boner.
So much has been promised about this team, their human sunshine of a captain and their infamous Too Good For This World cinnamon roll-ness, I was buzzing in my seat waiting to get to know them.
             “[Think] about what you’re going to say in pre-game.” (…)
             “How about ‘We’re gonna own these lowers’?” Nicky suggested.
             “And that’s why you’re not allowed to talk to the press,” Matt said dryly.
Bahahahaha.
Nicky, my boy, never change. <3
However, I immediately opposed any ‘loser’ insults as I finally, finally met –
The one, the only, captain of Trojans, idol of Kevin Days everywhere, the OG Cinnamon Roll™ – Jeremy Fucking Knox.
             “Kevin, you crazy fool,” he said, less formally, and clapped Kevin’s shoulder in a cheery greeting. “You never cease to amaze. You’ve got a thing for controversial teams, I think, but I like this one much better than the last one.”
Hi, marry me.
Again with the characterizations through first lines in this book, aye? Pretty sure this guy is the only one in the entire world who could bro-hug Kevin, call him a crazy fool to his face, and come away with his nose unbroken.
(He says a little bit towards Wymack before that, but we’re gonna ignore that for the meme.)
But apparently, Jeremy is not the only one who gets to say unexpected things right now.
             [Kevin] only said, “I have a backliner for you. Do you have room on next year’s line-up?”
… Does this mean what I think it means.
I THINK IT DOES.
I THINK IT FUCKING DOES.
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My dudes, let me tell you, my ass is HERE for Trojan!Jean. Trojean. TROJEAN.
Seriously, if you want someone with a trauma caused by abusive competitive toxic teammates to recover, a team that’s known for being the friendliest, kindest and fairest motherfuckers on the planet is pretty much the absolute Way To Go.
Operation Trojean is the best rehab anyone has ever thought of, ever, and I will hear no other opinions on this.
I was already enjoying this tremendously, good things all around, how much better could it be – when Sunshine Boy decided to pull something so spectacularly Hufflepuff that I swear to fuck I heard badgers singing.
Y’all are not ready.
I was not ready.
             “Our line-up,” Jeremy explained. “It’s late to be getting it to you, I know, but we were trying to avoid as much of the backlash as possible.”
Why, what’s happ–
             “Two goalies, three backliners, two dealers, two strikers,” Jeremy said. “You’ve made it this far with those numbers. It’s time to see how we’d fare in that situation.”
WHAT
THE
FUCK.
You have got to be kidding me, Sunshine Boy.
You are giving up your gigantic team, your sure-as-life win, your One Big Strength – just because it’s fair? And because you want to learn from your opponents more than you want to win?
I’m out. This is too much. This team is TOO FUCKING MUCH.
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             “You’ll lose tonight if you play like this.”
             “Maybe,” Jeremy agreed, unconcerned. “Maybe not. Should be fun either way, right? I don’t remember the last time I was this psyched for a game.”
There is no way in hell I’m not faceclaiming this guy as known Puff Champion Cedric Diggory now.
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No. Way. In. Hell.
             Neil finally understood how the USC Trojans had won the Day Spirit Award eight consecutive years.
Bitch, me too, the fuck.
             “I take back what I said about earthquakes,” Nicky said weakly. “I have a new favourite team.”
BITCH, ME TOO, THE FUCK.
And with that, the game is on, and I can’t remember the last time I was so pumped for a good ol’ match of Orange Murder Sportsball.
Despite their Line-Up of Dreams, the Trojans pretty much wipe the floor with the Foxes in the first half, as was to be expected.
But in second half – well, let’s just say I ain’t never seen a badger run a marathon.*
             USC could have taken control of the game in a heartbeat if only they’d rethink their strategy. If they pulled their three subs from the sidelined players the Foxes’ night was over. But the Trojans had made up their mind and they weren’t backing down.
HELL YES.
BECAUSE THEY’RE THE FUCKING FAIREST BEST FUCKING SPORTS IN THIS ENTIRE DAMNED LEAGUE.
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(*For the record: Foxes don’t exactly run marathons either – according to the mighty Internet, foxes can run up to 55 km/h and badgers up to 30 km/h, but both only over short distances. A human Trojan would definitely outrun a fox (or a badger) over a long distance. So much for brand accuracy.)
But then! Oh, who would have thought! This is so completely surprising! The Foxes catch their wind on the second half! Amazing, they start to dominate the game! And – and – and it’s a win! Win for the Foxes! WIN FOR THE FOXES!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy and excited for them and all, but as if we didn’t absolutely see this coming.
             “Is this what dying feels like?” [Alvarez] asked, and called over her shoulder, “Babe, I think I’m dying. Do I still have legs?”
Things like these make my sports-ignorant ass realize just how hardcore the Foxes playing full halves actually is.
No subs, we die like men.
Also, Alvarez’ “babe” turns out to be Laila Dermott, which makes me love the Trojans even more – and I truly did not think this was possible – because Exy Lesbians.
             “That was fantastic. (…) I want to do it again. Next year, maybe, when my legs grow back.”
             “Stop being such a baby,” Laila said.
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This banter is giving me life.
If anyone has any fanart of these two buff buttercups, please send it my way pronto.
             Neil didn’t care how many hearts they broke that night. They’d beaten USC. (…) The Foxes were going to finals, and that was the only thing that mattered.
HEEEEEEEECK YEEEEEEEEES.
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Before we move on to post-semi-final celebrations, allow me to gush about the Trojans one last time, and then I promise I’m done melting into a puddle every time one of them so much as speaks.
             “[Jean] will be back in the fall. He just won’t be back in black.” Jeremy flashed his toothy grin. (…) “He’s transferring to USC for his senior year.”
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This is one of the best ideas anyone has had in this entire book. Four for you, Trojean, you go, Trojean.
(And none for Riko Moriyama, bye.)
             “We’ll have to get him some sun this summer, though! He’s a little pale to pull of red and gold right now,” Jean laughed.
[To the tune of California Girls] California puffs they’re unforgettable…
Also, in which Jean is #me in summer, all day err’day.
Tanning is for weak people, we sunburn like true Germans.
             Nicky (…) cut the TV off. “I’ve got a theory that Renee and Jeremy are long-lost siblings. What do you think would happen if they ever joined force?”
             “They’d get murdered,” Aaron said. (…) “War’s profitable; no one wants their world-peace nonsense.”
Gee, thanks, you absolute walnut.
For the record, I agree with Nicky, and I’m also counting this as the reason I immediately fell in love with Jeremy.
What can I say – in a world full of Angst, Drama, Angst, Infighting and More Angst, ya girl loves herself some good sunshiney optimists.
As for post-semi-final celebrations, the gang makes good on an old tradition and goes into town for another Fun Night of Debauchery for what I’m assuming is the last time in this series.
To think that a year ago the prospect of this would have made me break out in protective Neil feels, and now I’m actually looking forward to it.
Man, we’ve come far.
Speaking of – Andrew now apparently has no need for cracker dust anymore(!!!), has nothing against being touched in public (!!!!) and doesn’t seem to mind his Bartender Pal Roland calling him out on his Very Much Gay, Very Much Official Relationship (!!!!!).
Man, we’ve come fucking far.
             “How’d you know [about Andrew being gay]?”, [Nicky said.] “Is your gaydar more advanced than mine is or – “ Nicky’s jaw dropped as he clued in. “Wait. No way. No way! Did you two –?”
BAHAHAHA.
LAUGHTER.
BIG FAT LAUGHTER.
Andrew hooked up with Big Intimidating Bartender Pal, this is glorious.
             Neil’s clock was still ticking down, but his numbered days followed a different schedule now. Neil had all the time in the world, and that left a heat in his gut stronger than any whiskey could.
Fuck yes.
Fuck YES.
A very good ending to a very good second to last chapter.
...Oh shit.
Second. To. Last. Chapter.
EVER.
Next chapter will almost conclude this series (I’m told there is a short epilogue, so we’re not quite done). Next chapter will almost conclude this blog, holy shit.
We’ve been following the Orange Hellride that is this series for over a year now (thanks to my giant hiatuses in between, oops). This is insane.
I’ll get all emotional and grateful and weepy in the last chapter and final book recap, so dry eyes over here for now, but y’all – get ready.
This ride is about to end, and knowing this series, we’re about to go out with a fucking bang.
Oh dear.
Before I go - a quick note on the update situation for the last few uploads (meaning chapter 17, epilogue, book recap). This feels almost redundant to say after my schedule has been very loose (soz) these past few chapters anyways, but I will be taking some liberties for the finish line.
This blog has been one of my greatest pride and joys over the last year, and I really wanna stick the landing. This means I'd rather spend an extra day refining than update by hook and by crook. As a loose time estimate – expect the last chapter by the end of the week, possibly earlier.
Let me make this good for you guys. I'm way excited (and scared), and I hope you are too.
Peace and love, y'all.
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shawol9196 · 6 years
Text
Teacher AU 8/?
“Is there an emergency or something?” Kibum asks when he sits back down. “Oh, no it’s nothing. Suho, Changmin, Kyuhyun, and my old roommate apparently had a bet about how long it would take for me to confess to you.” Kibum laughs a little, taking another bite of casserole.
When he’s finally able to get himself moving, Minho sits on his bed and texts his friends.
Chat: The College OGs + Kyuhyun
Minho: So
Changmin: ?
Minho: I may have accidentally confessed my feelings to Kibum
Suho: WHEN WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US SOONER
Minho: dude....it just happened....like 5 minutes ago
Suho: oh ok proceed tell us everything
Kyuhyun: you should’ve kept it quiet suho’s going to plan your wedding now
Kyuhyun: wait what do you mean accidentally
Changmin: You’re not drunk right it’s only 7:30
Minho: I talked to Hyukjae about my feelings and I needed to shave again but my wrist still isn’t up to par so I asked Kibum to help me and it just kind of came out
Changmin: youre the most unintentionally gay person i know and love you for it
Kyuhyun: OK BUT WHAT DID HE SAY
Suho: OK BUT HOW DID YOU SAY IT
Minho: I was having trouble not-looking at him and he asked why i was staring and ‘because i love you’ just kind of slipped out and then i explained that i was being truthful and he said that he likes me too and we’re supposed to talk about it over dinner when he gets out of the shower
Changmin: its a miracle that you’re functional dude your gay level is too high
Changmin: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) did ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) anything ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) happen ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) after ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Suho: So I’m at that new bar that opened up a few blocks away if i stop by will you do a live reenactment of it because i want to make sure i’m imagining it right
Kyuhyun: wait you talked to Hyukjae about it
Minho: yeah, i went to get my wrist looked at
Changmin: THAT CHEATER
Minho: ?????????
Changmin: we’ve had bets for weeks about you two and Hyuk used you to win it
Minho: !?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!!?!?!?!?!?!
Kyuhyun: Chang and I were saying Kibum would have to confess first
Suho: I said that you two would dramatically confess at the same time after one of you trip causing you two to kiss accidently
Minho: what did Hyuk/Hae say?
Changmin: they said you’d do it first
Suho: But if it wasn’t intentional....did they actually win because they said he’d work up the nerve to
Minho: -_- Minho: I have to go eat dinner now
The timer goes off just as Minho comes into the kitchen. He turns it off and grabs the casserole out of the oven. Kibum comes out as he’s portioning it out.
“Oh, perfect timing.”
“I heard the timer go off and figured I should hurry.”
“I would’ve waited for you.”
The words seem to hold more weight than Minho intends and so he shyly hands Kibum his plate without another word. They sit down to eat, avoiding each other’s eyes. Though confessing should’ve been the hardest part, now that their feelings are somewhat in the open, they both find themselves shyer than ever. Minho can hear his phone going off in his room and he gets up to silence it. He’s got 30 unread messages, all in the same chat, and he doesn’t even want to know what they’re saying.
“Is there an emergency or something?” Kibum asks when he sits back down.
“Oh, no it’s nothing. Suho, Changmin, Kyuhyun, and my old roommate apparently had a bet about how long it would take for me to confess to you.”
Kibum laughs a little, taking another bite of casserole.
“So, about that...”
“About that.” Kibum echoes, putting his fork down.
“Like I said, I know it’s probably too soon to actually call it love, but I really really like you, Kibum. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like this for someone. I know it’s weird, because we live together and that sort of thing, but if you think there’s a chance that we could work I’d really love to try. But if you don’t want to, I promise I’m not going to like throw you out or treat you badly or anything; I...I can put my feelings aside, just as long as you’re happy-”
“Minho.” Kibum interrupts.
There’s a soft smile on his face and it eases Minho’s embarrassment at his own rambling.
“I...I would like to try. Slowly. I’ve never really, I haven’t...this is my first time liking someone this much. My first time having someone that I feel I could learn to trust.”
“I can do slow.”
“If anyone has the patience of a saint, a kindergarten teacher would be my first guess.”
Minho smiles and they continue eating dinner. When they’re done, they wash dishes together like normal, but there’s something special this time about being so close. By accident, Minho’s arm bumps against Kibum’s. A while later, Kibum’s brushes against Minho’s. Though he tries not to read into it, there’s still a giddy feeling. They finish quicker than he’d like, and since it’s a school night they each go to their own rooms.
*
Two hours later, Minho’s laying in bed, trying to read through all 75 messages that Suho, Changmin, Kyuhyun, Hyukjae, and Donghae had sent. He laughs at Suho’s wedding plans, the way the five fight over who won the bet, and advice on where to go for a first day. It’s been thunderstorming for over an hour now, and though he doesn’t mind the noise, he has a distinctly uneasy feeling. There’s a tap on his door.
“Come in.” he says, reaching to turn on his bedside lamp.
Kibum peaks in and even from this distance Minho can see the tears running down his cheeks.
“Can I...is it ok if...”
“Come on in, Kibum, it’s alright.”
Kibum shuts the door before him and moves quickly to sit on the edge of Minho’s bed. He flinches when there’s another roll of thunder and Minho offers him his hand. Kibum goes to take it, but hesitates.
“I don’t...I don’t want to hurt your...your bad wrist.”
“Is it the thunder that’s got you all worked up or something else?”
“It’s...it’s the thunder.”
“The radar says it’s supposed to thunderstorm all night. Do you want to just share my bed again, like when you were sick? I don’t mind if it makes you feel better.”
Kibum chews his lip and looks unsure, but when there’s more lightening and thunder he nods.
“You’re gonna have to grab your pillow, okay? Or would you rather me go get it?”
“I...I can get it...should...should I grab...grab a blanket?”
“If you want to. I was a bad blanket hog when I was little but I don’t know how much of one I am now.”
Kibum nods and after a minute, when the storm quiets down ever so slightly, he runs out to his room. Minho scoots over to one side of the bed, making space for Kibum. He comes back with his blanket and pillow, clinging to them. He lays down facing Minho, back to the window. Minho reaches out his left hand and Kibum takes it in both of his.
“Will you do me a favor? I usually put two alarms on, one that plays the radio and the other that plays a recording of Changmin yelling. I don’t want the other one to freak you out, so I’m going to turn that one off. Will you make sure I get up in the morning?”
Kibum nods and Minho turns that alarm off.
“Have you always been afraid of thunder, Kibum?” Minho asks softly.
“Not always. When I was eight or so, I lost my house key and got stuck outside in a bad storm. One of the trees in the front yard got struck by lightning. I’ve been scared ever since then.”
“That makes sense. When I was little, I went to the mall with a friend and his mom. We were playing around and he went running up the escalator and fell and scraped his knee up really really bad. I was afraid of escalators for a number of years after that.”
Kibum doesn’t say anything, but seems less embarrassed. The thunder gets louder and louder again; Minho pulls his phone out and sees that they’re right in the middle of the storm. Kibum holds his hand tighter and tighter.
"If I wanted to take you on a date, on Friday, would that be going too fast?" Minho asks.
"No, that'd be nice."
"I found this place the other day, I think you'll really like it."
“I know...I know I...I said that I...that I want to...to go slow...but please...please hold me...I’m...I’m so scared.” Kibum says, crying once again.
Minho rolls so that he’s on his back and Kibum scoots closer. Minho pulls him as close as Kibum will allow; Kibum’s head is resting on his chest and Minho does his best to hold him close. Though he’s slightly more at ease, Kibum’s still tense and crying.
“Would I help if I sang again? I know I’m not the best singer but you seemed to like it last time.” Minho whispers.
“I think...I think that’d help.”
Minho pulls his phone out and puts music on. It’s all jazzy numbers and swing music, but Kibum seems to enjoy it as much as he can. He stops crying after a while, and as the thunder moves away again, he manages to drift off to sleep. Minho continues to hold him, switches to humming, making sure he’s asleep. Once he’s sure he’s asleep, he gently slides Kibum off of him, turning on his side to face him.
*
He wakes to Kibum shaking him.
“Are you awake?” Kibum whispers.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Thanks for letting me sleep here. It really helped.”
“You’re welcome, Kibum. You’re welcome anytime, in a not creepy or predatory way.”
Kibum laughs and heads towards the door. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
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artificialqueens · 6 years
Text
Hi, I'm The Emotionally Repressed Girl Who Ran From Her Latent Homosexual Feelings for Ten Years, Trixie Mattel! (Trixya) - Iris
Hi, Hello, Good day, friends!
I… don’t know what the fUCK I’m doing. But that’s okay because I love Trixya, and I’m willing to do anything for them!
Well, okay, like I said it’s my first try at actually writing and publishing a fic, so I’m bearing my soul(my soul is comprised of Trixya obvi) and hoping y'all enjoy this as much as I do. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated! This is a pretty indulgent fic for me, and it’ll primarily focus on the nine years prior to the first chapter! Lots of soft!Trixya moments tbh. They perform Rocky Horror with all your favorite queens(including the OG Queen herself), and honestly, I’m just excited to write it for you lovely guys, gals, and nonbinary pals! I really hope you enjoy yourselves and don’t hate me for the angst that is to inevitably come!m Say hello to me at @wewouldbeheroes on Tumblr! I’d really appreciate the company!
Chapter 1: Fishnet Stockings, High Boots, & Delicate Conversation in Present December
Snow danced in the mid-December air as Trixie urgently walked down the cultural district of Boston, her hands shoved in the pockets of the long-coat that she borrowed from her mom. She was shivering and trying to remind herself why she thought a damn dress was a good idea for this climate. The air whipped under her skirt, and her teeth clattered for the third time in the last ten minutes. She was already exhausted, and the cold wasn’t helping. Why she thought booking a red-eye from Milwaukee to Boston was a good idea, she’ll never fucking know. Saving money? Fuck money, she’ll take the sleep and decent food, thank you very much.
           One month ago, Trixie Mattel got a call she’d never expect in a million years. RuPaul Charles, her director from a cabaret in Boston she worked at, nearly ten years ago, had somehow found her number, despite having no contact in all this time. God knows how, but Trixie always said RuPaul works in mysterious ways. They reminisced on the phone for hours, about old performances, and old friends. Trixie enjoyed the conversation, despite the fact she hadn’t had much to contribute. While Ru was off being a newlywed with his husband Georges, Trixie was working back in small town Wisconsin, helping her mom with her siblings and taking a receptionist job at the local elementary school. She can’t say she particularly disliked her entire existence, or that Wisconsin was just a reminder of everything she ever hoped she would never be, but it wasn’t all bad, that’s for sure. She contemplated leaving, but she wanted to help her family. And as her step-father so lovingly put it: “It was her duty,”.
So, there she was, in a dead-end town. Most of the kids from school had married by now, she was twenty-eight after all, and her friendships had all but fallen apart after Trixie had left for Boston. Most of them had even popped out a child or two, and Trixie found it hard to relate and/or enjoy one second of their company. So, when RuPaul had asked Trixie to spend a week at the Cabaret for a reunion performance she was hosting, how could Trixie ever say no?
After confirming her attendance, Trixie threw herself in bed, fully panicking. Was everyone going to be there? What if she was the only one to show up? What if she decided not go, and was the only who didn’t? She did enough damage when she left last time. What if they all hated her? What if she saw Katya? Of course, she’ll see Katya, she was as much a part of that cast as anyone else. How would Katya react to seeing her? Things would be weird, of course. Would she be prepared to handle that? Maybe Katya would just ignore her the whole time? Which honestly sounded like a pretty good option.
Her family, naturally, tried to discourage the trip. And they almost succeeded, too, especially with thoughts of Katya running wild in her head (like maybe Katya would throw a drink on her when she first saw her??), but Trixie realized if she didn’t go now, she never, ever would. She would just have to cross the Russian bridge when she got to it. She packed her guitar, her harp, and her suitcase and left for the airport the next morning.
           Trixie’s last time in Boston was potentially one of the best and worst times of her life. That was when things were changing for her. For better or worse, Trixie still wasn’t sure. She was only nineteen at the time, and how much can a nineteen-year-old comprehend about life-long lessons and impact? She found parts of herself she didn’t even know existed. And she loved that. But she also found a Pandora’s Box worth of things she didn’t dare try and open. And it didn’t take much for her to plunge back into Wisconsin, after barely making a home on these busy city streets. She did like it here in Boston. She liked the diversity, the hustle and bustle of city life. There was always something to occupy yourself with here. It wasn’t like Wisconsin, and that, perhaps, was the best part.
           Trixie, desperate to relieve herself of the cold, cut through a few alleys to get to the Cabaret, it’s funny, how well she still knew the Boston streets. She walked into a shabby-looking building, with broken lights, chipped brick, and ripped, wet, paper signs just outside the door. It’s clear the place had seen it’s better years, but Trixie didn’t seem to notice as she retched open the doors to get out of the cold. Warmth flooded her body, and she silently praised Ru for always being a cold blood.
           Expectations were rather high, as Ru always kept his cabaret as elegant as possible. Nice furniture, the smell of incense and a bit of alcohol reminded her more of home than her actual home did. And, she wasn’t disappointed. Barstools were neatly pushed in where they weren’t being used. High dining tables scattered the house, with equally high chairs, padded with nice, velvet cushions. Even the stage had a fresh coat of black paint on it, and the curtains had been replaced in the last ten years, she noticed. This was home to her, she wondered why she left.
          “… Trixie?”
           Oh.
           In an instant, Trixie felt her stomach drop to the floor. Already? She thought. She faced the bar, and the voice that came from behind it.
           “Katya. Hey.” She said shortly. This was not good. Not good at all. She hadn’t mentally prepared herself for an encounter this early. She braced herself. She braced herself for the potential yelling, for a drink to be dumped on her head. Anything.
           But nothing came.
           “I didn’t think you’d come to the reunion. In fact, Ru didn’t even tell me you were invited.” Katya shifted her weight and cocked her hip out as she looked Trixie up and down.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Trixie, deciding it was probably okay to move towards Katya, inched her way over to the bar.
Katya shrugged. “Dunno. I’m just surprised you came.”
There was a pause and Trixie took their momentary lapse in conversation to give Katya the same scrutinizing eye. She was slim as ever, clad in a white and black checked dress. She couldn’t see her legs behind the bar, but Trixie would put money on those muscular thighs being clad in fishnets and high boots. Katya’s hair had grown, in fact, it looked like it hadn’t been cut in the last nine years. Long, blonde waves, darker at the roots that cascaded over her shoulders. It had lots of volume, and Trixie can’t remember a time Katya’s hair looked like it had so much effort put into it.
           “So,” Katya spoke up. “Can I get you a drink?” Trixie was pulled out of her daze, and back into the reality of her current situation. Her stomach flipped again.
           “Oh, uh, water would be nice.” Trixie sat down on one of the barstools and began to notice the place was practically empty. There were a few lowly looking men, scattered at tables, but that was it. Trixie’s brow creased, the place used to be packed. “So,” she began, watching Katya move about behind the counter. “How have you been?”
           “Fine.” Katya set the glass down firmly in front of Trixie and popped a straw in the top before going about cleaning up a little.
           “That’s good to hear.” Trixie nodded, fiddling with the straw and staring at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the room and not Katya.  
           Katya pursed her red-streaked lips. “You?”
           “No complaints.”
           “You still living in Wyoming?” Katya finally looked up from the impeccably clean shot glass she was wiping down.
           “Wisconsin.” Trixie corrected, finally deciding that her water deserved more than to just be played with and ogled at. She took a sip and cringed at the pink ring her lipstick left on the straw.
           “Mm.” Katya nodded slowly and tossed her rag beneath the counter, before folding her arms over her chest and gazing at Trixie coolly.
           Trixie shifted in her seat. “So, who’s all coming to this… thing? Our whole cast?”
           Katya looked down at her feet and back up again. “Uhm, Adore is flying in from Cali, I know. Violet still lives here and so does Kim.” Katya’s eyes roamed the room as she thought. “Plus, you, me, Bianca.” She paused. “We haven’t heard from Aja, yet. Oh, and Ginger is trying to get time off her rehearsals, so we’ll see.”
           “Alaska?”
           “No, I don’t think so. She hasn’t responded to anyone’s phone calls so…” Katya shrugged. “She’ll probably show up unannounced. She always like to make an entrance.”
           Trixie smiled at the thought. “Probably.”
           There was a beat of silence as the two ran out of things to say, yet again. Katya was fiddling with an end of her hair, and Trixie went back stirring her water.
           “How’s Ru? And Georges?” She knew perfectly well how they were.
           “Oh.” Katya smiled briefly, and Trixie got a glimpse at those perfect teeth. “They’re really good, still… really in love and… super gay.” Katya chuckled.
           “What about you? Still a lesbian?” Trixie regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips. Something passed over Katya’s face, an unidentifiable emotion and she crooked her lips and laughed.
           “Yeah, Trixie. I am.” Katya bit her lip. “Seeing anyone in Wyoming?”
           Trixie investigated her cup again. “Nah, no. Not a lot of pickings in Wisconsin.”
           “Not a lot of lesbians?” She mused.
           Trixie sucked in a breath and pretended she didn’t hear the question. “So why is Ru planning this little reunion performance?” She asked, her eyes elsewhere as she hoped Katya wouldn’t press the previous issue.
           Katya was silent for a moment. “A lot of us have moved on, Trix. We had good times, it’s been almost ten years and none of us even… text. Or follow each other on Instagram.” Katya shrugged. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”
           “I wanted to.”
           “…Well, I’m glad you did.” Katya pursed her lips again, giving Trixie a hard gaze. Almost a challenge. She didn’t respond, and, instead, rapped her nails against the bar counter. Trixie felt bad. What was she supposed to say to that? She knows Katya’s implications, and she wasn’t a lesbian. So why entertain the idea that they could ever be anything more than friends? Or even that? Katya was the soul reason it was so hard for her to come back here. She could face nearly everything else, she really, really could. She could face the girls scolding her for just disappearing almost ten years ago, she could face Ru, despite never calling like she promised. But facing Katya, was a whole can of worms she was so unwilling to open.
         “Trixie?”
          “Hm?”
“Let me take you on a tour, for old times sake?” Katya offered, coming out from behind the bar.
           “Don’t you have to work?”
           Katya surveyed the restaurant with haughty smirk. “Oh, yeah, customers are fighting for my attention.” Trixie glimpsed at the house again. The same lowly guys were minding themselves at their tables, doing God knows what.
           “Yeah, that’s true.” Trixie responded with a laugh. “Yeah, okay, a quick tour.”
           “Great, cunt, let’s start in the office.” Katya grinned softly in that Katya fashion, and came out from behind the bar, untying her apron as she did. And lo and behold:
           Fishnets and high boots.
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righteoustuff · 4 years
Text
A Brief History of Japanese Chillout & Downtempo
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                It’s no secret that Japan has produced some of the finest meditative sounds. From the environmental music of Hiroshi Yoshimura to the warm synths of Haruomi Hosono, blissed-out electronics have been surfacing since the 1980s and have continued to evolve through to the present day.
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Ken Hidaka, Max Essa and Dr. Rob are three friends and deep digging collectors who’ve been immersed in these sounds for years, be that through writing, DJing or throwing their long-running monthly listening party at Bar Bonobo in Harajuku.
In 2017, whilst in Copenhagen on tour with Midori Takada, Ken visited the home of Kenneth Bagger – the boss behind Copenhagen-based imprint Music For Dreams – who asked him if he’d lead the charge for an instalment of their Collectors Series. Enlisting the help of Max and Dr. Rob, the trio spent the next three years charting the history of Japanese chillout and downtempo music from the 80s through to 2018. Titled Oto No Wa: Selected Sounds of Japan 1988 – 2018, each track is the result of friendships and physical connections, mapping out the development of chilled sounds, from ambient to electro-acoustics, post-house and balearic.
Alongside a mix of Japanese chillout and downtempo from Dr.Rob, we asked him, Ken and Max to discuss some of their personal favourites.
Oto No Wa is out now on Music For Dreams.
Where does your love for Japanese Chillout stem from?
Ken Hidaka: For me, it was when I heard the Silent Poets: Moment Scale (Dubmaster X Remix), the first track on Jose Padilla compiled Cafe Del Mar- Volumen Dos. Not sure where I bought this compilation as I was in between living in London and in Tokyo around the time of when this compilation was released in 1995. At the time, to be honest with you, I was way more into western club music and really not much into Japanese music at all so this Silent Poets’ track in this compilation surprised me a lot!
Although my tastes for music were still leaned towards mostly western club music, after coming back to Japan, I slowly started to discover a few Japanese music that caught my interest. Artists that released music out of Bellissima Records at the time such as Nobukazu Takemura’s Child’s View, Reflection out of Lollop (their debut album, The Errornormous World was also released out of Clear in the UK), Major Force crew, etc. You could say that my roots for Japanese down tempo/ chill-out music stem from Jose Padilla and his Balearic aesthetics, Club Jazz sounds and electronic music that was emerging from Japan.
What Japanese Chillout record has left the biggest impression on you as a DJ, and why?
Rob Harris: As a DJ, I don’t know, but as someone passionate about recorded music, a student of sound, I can give you two Japanese, downtempo / chill out records that made a big impression on me.
The first is Haruomi Hosono’s Paraiso. When I lived in Tokyo, which is about ten years ago now, I spent a lot of time digging for vinyl. Using the second-hand stores as an excuse to get to know the city, and searching for stuff, both for my own collection and to sell. Paraiso was one of the things on my “wants list”. It was on there because Jose Padilla, the former DJ at Ibiza’s Cafe Del Mar, had mentioned it in a radio interview. Even back then this album wasn’t so easy to find. It wasn’t expensive because the boom in Japanese music was still off on the horizon but there didn’t seem to be that many copies around. Produced in 1978, maybe it hadn’t been issued on CD, and those folks with were hanging onto their copies.
Anyhow when I did find one I didn’t know what to make of it – why was it in Jose’s favourites? I’d already hoover-ed up most of the Yellow Magic Orchestras output – the band Hosono founded with Yukihiro Takahashi and Ryuichi Sakamoto – for its chugging electronic afro / cosmic crossovers, but this was acoustic guitar-driven, softly strummed singer-songwriter stuff. But then bumping the needle, scanning from track to track, I hit the title number and understood – as Hosono-san used studio effects to deconstruct the song – send it into the stratosphere. Mid-way through it just dissolved into sonic shimmer, like a passing comet’s tail. Creating an extra-terrestrial exotica – an easy-listening muzak with its sights set not on Hawaii but the stars.
The second record is Sth. Notional’s ‘Yawn Yawn Yawn’. For me this is a defining Japanese downtempo / chill out release. Again it was a favourite of Jose’s – but I only learned that in hindsight. It was Mancunian balearic guru, Richard “Moonboots” Bithell who tasked me with finding a copy. His London-based counterpart, Phil Mison, had one and he didn’t. This record was and still is super rare, since it was made in the early-90s, and kinda opposite to Paraiso, was far more abundant on CD. But then the CD didn’t have all the mixes. Jose and Phil had both championed the break-driven G-Tar Canyon Mix at the Cafe Del Mar, but it was Moonboots who picked up on the Dream… Another Reality version – which is an eight and a half minute meditation of sampled shore-line, piano and poetry. A hippie ode to Mother Nature – which to the West might sound cheesy – but captures a spirituality that exists in everyday Japan – something you only really appreciate, learn to respect, and hopefully come to understand, by living here. These are largely islands of gentle souls.
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Moonboots later put this mix on his Originals compilation – co-selected with “Balearic” Mike Smith – for Claremont 56. I can’t tell you how ecstatic I was when I came across the record’s sea-blue sleeve in a rack labelled “Major Force & Friends” in Shibuya`s Recofan. I was seriously in double-take shock. To date I’ve only ever found three copies of the OG. Yawn Yawn Yawn was however reissued by Italy’s Archeo Recordings in 2018. The package expanded by a host of new remixes, and spread across six sides of vinyl. Reworks by Max Essa, Chee Shimizu, and Kuniyuki Takahashi. The update by Tadashi Yabe – ex of Untied Future Organization – is truly amazing. It’ll catch you off-guard. A fucked-up funky, psychedelic collage that – I’ll stick my neck out here – is the best Japanese “balearic” track of modern times. In my opinion if you only own one Japanese downtempo / chill out record then this Archeo reissue of Sth. National’s Yawn Yawn Yawn should be it.
What Japanese Chillout record has made the biggest impact on your sound as a producer, and why?
Max Essa: It’s difficult to single out one particular record, but I’m going to go with ‘Julia’ by Seigen Ono from the Comme Des Garçons Volume Two LP (1989). I got my first break making records in the early 90s through house music. Dance music genres/sub-genres are very rigid stylistically. When one is making those kind of records you can’t just make something that exists purely because it’s a beautiful, emotive, powerful piece of music, it ‘has to be’ a certain tempo, it has to have a 4/4 kick drum etc etc. This is the way I ended up thinking when I approached making music and I thought like that for many years!
I remember hearing ‘Julia’ for the first and being utterly charmed by it. It’s a very elegant piece that combines a calming tranquility with an ever so slightly mysterious, emotional undertow. The effect it had on my own approach to making music was to make me place far more value on the music for it’s own sake. I wanted to start creating music, moments, combinations of sounds that appealed beyond dance floors, DJs, beat-mixing.
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