#AND my phone which has roses on the case. and this woman goes huh you really like flowers eh

[beefcakekinard]

pure sweetness (not ur mind tho hehe), tommy, oliver stark, oliver stark tummy/bucktummy, the flower rose, bucktommytaylor, canada - zahraa

🤗 i can't say i'm mad at this list! ilu zahraa 🩷🩷🩷 @ohithankyou

what are five things you associate with me

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: Job Hunting

Rose loses her job at the grief center and faces ageism when she searches for a new one. Blanche tries to lose three pounds.

Picture It...

Blanche is cutting vegetables while singing “Sleep, Kentucky Babe.” Sophia comes in (not wearing her glasses, for some reason) and is upset to see there’s no pepperoni in the fridge. She rejects both Blanche’s offer of celery stuffed with cottage cheese and Dorothy’s offer of chicken, as both repeat on her. Blanche, meanwhile, is trying to lose three extra pounds she’s gained.

Rose comes in, distraught (Sophia is, once again, indifferent), and tells the Girls that they’ve closed her grief counseling center. Blanche and Dorothy are immediately concerned that Rose has lost her job, but Rose is more worried about the fact that her former patients won’t have anyone to counsel them anymore. She says she plans to help them find other places to go, and then she’ll focus on finding a job. Dorothy is skeptical.

ROSE: I’m dependable, friendly, loyal, eager. *leaves the kitchen* DOROTHY: That’s great. If she learns to catch a frisbee in her teeth, she can get work as a Golden Retriever.

Later, Dorothy goes out to the lanai to read, and finds a strange man sitting there. He introduces himself as Milton, and Rose arrives to say that Milton is one of her former patients from the center, and even tells Dorothy his whole life story right in front of him. She sends him off and tells him to call her anytime, day or night -- the last three words sending Dorothy into a panic.

Dorothy confronts Rose about her job hunt and Rose says she hasn’t started looking, too preoccupied with helping the center’s patients. Sophia passes her phone messages from the patients and Dorothy gets one from an old high school acquaintance she had a crush on named Barry Glick. He’s visiting Miami and wants to get together, which sends Dorothy over the moon. Rose is drowning in her patients’ despair off to the side.

BLANCHE: I hate phone calls in the middle of the night! Now I’ll never get back to sleep. I’m as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo. DOROTHY: Boy, that’s … pretty jumpy.

Dorothy bangs on Rose’s door that night to wake her, as Milton is calling in the wee hours. Blanche and Dorothy, irritated, retreat to the living room, where Sophia is sitting in the dark, and grouse about the situation -- Blanche has already lost one pound and doesn’t want to eat her insomnia, while Dorothy wants to look good for Barry. They decide to confront Rose, and sit her down when she comes out and tell her she needs to focus on finding a job. Rose tearfully confesses she has been trying to find one, but she’s been rejected after several interviews for her age. Distraught, she runs to her room and slams the door.

Dorothy and Blanche follow Rose to her room to talk to her about the situation. Dorothy tells her she’s recovered from a major life change once, after her husband died and left her as a housewife with no work experience. Rose says she’s older now, and Dorothy offers to help her figure out what she’s doing wrong in the interviews. Rose says she’s got one in the morning for a Hospital Administrator job, and Dorothy reviews her resume -- which stinks. She and Blanche find ways to pad the resume out, giving Rose some more confidence. Unable to fall back asleep, all three go to the kitchen for a snack.

BLANCHE: Oh I can’t fall asleep now. DOROTHY: Still at the rodeo, Blanche? ROSE: I can’t sleep either. Why don’t I make us all some warm milk? After I drink milk, I go right to sleep. BLANCHE: I can think of something else after which I go right to sleep. Huh, Dorothy? DOROTHY: … during.

In the kitchen, they somehow justify getting a three-course meal on the table, including our very first shared cheesecake (and Sophia’s precious pepperoni). Dorothy talks about her date with Barry, and how she wanted him to be her first lover. This leads into a lengthy discussion about their first lovers -- Stan was Dorothy’s, Charlie was Rose’s, and Someone-Whose-Name-Starts-With-B was Blanche’s. Rose’s first time was her wedding night, and she was appalled because she’d never seen a naked man before. Stan convinced Dorothy he was being shipped to Korea and “it would mean so much” and nine months later she gave birth. Rose not-so-subtly hints it took years for her to orgasm during sex, and Blanche is completely baffled, as her Southern heat gave her urges. The Girls transition from a full dinner to a full breakfast.

The next day, Blanche flirts with Milton on the lanai. He tells her to abandon her diet and they agree to a date later. Sophia comes out on the lanai, followed shortly by Dorothy, who says her date with Barry went very well. Blanche wants to know if he lives up to her high school fantasies, but Dorothy replies in the negative: Barry is gay. Sophia claims she’s always known that. Dorothy says at least no other woman can have him either.

SOPHIA: *about Milton* I thought he belonged to the other one. BLANCHE: Well I’m sure Rose won’t mind one bit. SOPHIA: He’s a man. It’s not like sharing a yogurt.

Rose joins them, all smiles. She didn’t get the hospital admin job, but she did find a job when she was out for a float after her failed interview: She’s now a waitress at a coffee shop. It’s not the job Blanche and Dorothy wanted for her, but at least she’ll be working and earning money. They congratulate her. Blanche asks Rose about Milton, and Rose says he’s just her client -- she could never date him, as he’s only interested in fat woman. The episode ends on Blanche’s furious face.

“Hell, if I’m gonna have cookies, I’m gonna have cheesecake!”

Usually, I’m on board with a Golden Girls Very Special Episode when it tackles relevant issues, but something about this episode -- ostensibly one about ageism in the job market -- just doesn’t land particularly well. I didn’t really love it as a child, and I don’t really love it as an adult, but I think it’s for entirely different reasons. I suspect there was some behind-the-scenes drama about this episode I haven’t been able to fully investigate, but suffice to say this episode is a throwback to the beginning of the season, when the show was much less certain of itself. That said, it’s saved from two-slice infamy by some very good lines and gags.

BLANCHE: You probably haven’t noticed it, but I’ve put on three pounds. SOPHIA: On each side.

I’m still not sure why I didn’t like it as a kid -- I think the fact that Sophia, who was my favorite, is in so little of the episode was part of it. Sophia’s role in this episode is basically to make weird remarks and hover on the periphery -- literally in the case of the living room and lanai scenes -- of the episode and make the occasional bon mot. She’s not in the extended kitchen scene where the Girls eat their way through a three-course meal (we’ll get back to that scene in a minute), so I think I was puzzled why this episode forgot about her.

As an adult, I can pinpoint a few more concrete reasons I’m not in love. Keep in mind I’m biased, as I was recently laid off and back on the job market, but I suspect that Rose’s problem might not be ageism. I’m not trying to be mean here, but the problem might be that Rose is trying to find a job with a community college degree and a 32-year gap in work history, and the fact that the episode doesn’t really seem to understand that is a little disconcerting.

ROSE: They closed the center. BLANCHE: Not your grief counseling center? DOROTHY: No, the Kennedy Space Center. She wanted to be the first Lutheran on the Moon.

I don’t plan to fully talk about the episode before the official SGS, but I think it’s necessary to fully give context here: Rose will get another episode based around age discrimination in the job market in Season 5 called “Rose Fights Back.” Suffice to say I think it’s much better than this one, because at least in that episode it makes it clear that the only reason Rose is having problems is because of people’s reaction to her age. But this episode is much less clear, and in fact, based on the one job we see Rose actually applying for, I think she may be aiming a little high here.

To be clear, you can do alright with a Home-Ec degree and business training. There are a lot of jobs you can reasonably get with those qualifications. “Hospital Administrator” isn’t one of them, and Dorothy’s attempts to fluff up Rose’s resume don’t do anything but draw attention to the huge gaps in her work history. “32 years with the same employer?” There is not an interviewer in the world who won’t ask which employer that is, and who is Rose supposed to say? Her husband?

I know I wasn’t alive in the 80s, but I refuse to believe it was so alien a time that someone with Rose’s qualifications would be able to get that job. Heck, if she lived in the modern day, getting a job at the Fountain Rock coffee shop would be a coup.

There are also a few continuity errors in this episode: For starters, Charlie goes from having died 15 years ago to 5 years ago. Rose will later get be a grief counselor with no explanation. I guess it’s possible that she could have gotten another job in the same field, but it’s still jarring that she’s a waitress for all of five minutes.

DOROTHY: I am so glad that my date with Barry is tomorrow. The fat won’t have time to show. ROSE: It won’t? DOROTHY: No, it always takes a few days before it shows. ROSE: Where does it go in the meantime? DOROTHY: To Connecticut! How do I know where it goes? BLANCHE: With me, the minute it goes in my mouth, I balloon up. I can go out to dinner, and in the middle of the meal, my pants are cutting off my circulation so bad my feet are turning blue.

I don’t want to be a Negative Nancy, so I’ll add that everything in this episode is saved by the excellent jokes and lines. Some of the most iconic lines and exchanges happen in this episode, so it’s memorable for that reason alone. The best parts are probably Blanche’s enraged reaction faces, as seen in the image at the top. Also, when I discovered that this was actually the second episode filmed, that explained an awful lot -- for example, why this episode doesn’t balance all four actresses well, why the writing doesn’t feel as concise, and all the continuity errors. Even the way the episode looks makes sense after learning that little tidbit.

As much as I like that scene in the kitchen where the Girls talk about their romantic history -- and also eat their first cheesecake together! -- it really has very little to do with the rest of the episode, and it takes up quite a chunk of time. I guess that’s why I don’t consider this a Very Special Episode: The tone is just a bit too inconsistent. Five minutes after Rose is lamenting that she can’t find a job because of her age, and she’s talking about how it took her five years to have an orgasm with her husband. A different kind of tragedy, to be sure.

BLANCHE: You know, in the South, we mature faster. I think it’s the heat. DOROTHY: I think it’s the gin.

I can’t be certain, but I think there was some behind-the-scenes drama with director Paul Bogart, who was fired shortly after this episode was shot. I can only find a couple of references to this episode in Golden Girls Forever, one of which calls it “troubled.” Don’t take my word as gospel, but it’s what I suspect happened. Bogart was liked by Rue McClanahan and Bea Arthur, but didn’t direct Rose’s character very well, according to Betty White. He wanted her to yell and scream during her big moment, which wasn’t very Rose, but she tried until Jay Sandrich, director of the pilot, took her aside and told her to do it how she felt comfortable. Bogart apparently told the staff (including the writers): “Just give me the show in the beginning of the week, and by the end of the week, you’ll have an Emmy winner.” That boast did not go over well, especially since he didn’t really include the writers or the hands-on producers, and he only directed four episodes.

One last thing: The kitchen scene in this episode was expanded and adapted for the 1988 Royal Variety Performance. In adapting this, they got smart and gave Estelle Getty lines to say. Not only do you get to hear Sophia tell the very posh emcee, “Let’s find a pub and get drunk,” you also get to hear Blanche make her usual joke about watching the changing of the guard. I’ve heard it was the Queen Mother who requested them, as she was a fan. Not only can you see her meeting the Girls backstage, but Sophia even references her when leaving the stage: “Hey, just because you’re over 80 doesn’t mean you can’t go out on the town at night. Just ask that fine-looking lady up there in the expensive seats.”

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

Sophia’s line, which I’ve quoted more times than I can count:

DOROTHY: Ma, would you get Rose some water? SOPHIA: What is she gonna do with water? Has water ever made you feel better when you were upset? Have you ever heard anyone say, “Thank God, the water’s here?”

[lynnsfics]

Coffee Stained Confusion Ch 8

<Last Chapter                           First Chapter                               Next Chapter>

~~~

“Sergeant Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice came from the GPS device Bucky held, “we found a facial recognition match. It came from an apartment’s video doorbell from 2 blocks southwest of here. It appears she entered the building approximately 5 hours ago. I’ll scan through the rest of the footage to see if she left.”

“Thank you FRIDAY.” Bucky looked at Sam, “If she’s still there then we may stand a chance.”

“Scan complete. She left the building, but not by choice. The video feed shows three men appearing in a van. I did a search on them and discovered they’re with HYDRA.”

“When was this?” Sam asked. 

“About 4 hours ago,” FRIDAY replied. 

“Oh God, I knew we should have gone after her sooner,” Bucky said, his feelings of guilt evident. “Did you scan the van’s license plate? 

“Yes, but the van was reported stolen a few weeks ago, so that didn’t lead anywhere. However I have linked to the cameras on the streetlights, so if it passes any I’ll be alerted.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” replied Sam. “We should go check out the apartment, see if there’s any clues that can help us out there.” 

“Good thinking, Sam. FRIDAY, keep the facial recognition search active too. Just in case she goes somewhere.” 

The drive to the apartment was spent in tense silence, broken only by the sound of Bucky tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“Will you stop that?” Sam asked angrily, finally losing his cool.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do, but I’m stressed. It’s our fault she’s in this situation in the first place! Don’t you even feel guilty?”

“No, I don’t feel guilty, because we didn’t get her involved in this. She has pyrokinetic powers from HYDRA. She was clearly involved in some shady stuff before she met us. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help her. She needs our help, obviously. That’s why I’m doing this,” he paused, “But I can’t focus on what needs to be done with your awful tapping, okay man?”

“Fine, you’re right. And I’m done with the tapping,” Bucky said, putting the car in park. “But only because we’re here.” He stepped out of the car and immediately took a step back. The smell of smoke was overpowering. 

“The door’s been knocked clean off its hinges. Whoever did this wasn’t worried about being discreet. Look like typical HYDRA work to you?”

“Not at all,” Bucky replied, observing the scene. “Which means one of two things. They’re either desperate or they don’t need to worry about getting caught.” 

There was a couch in the room with burn marks streaked across the back. A mirror sat in the corner, a residue of black smoke sitting on its surface. The floorboards were laiden with ash, with boot prints occasionally dotting it, leaving behind a pattern that spoke of fear.  A trash bin lay on its side, ash spilling out, and that’s when Bucky realized. She had been trying to leave behind clues that she’d been taken. It was a message.

“I’ve received an update on the facial recognition search, but I don’t think you’ll like where she is.” FRIDAY’s voice came from the GPS. “There’s been a murder of another S.H.I.E.L.D. double agent, and she was seen there just twenty minutes before the crime. He died of burn wounds.” 

Bucky went pale, “I knew this would happen, Sam. They’ve turned her into a weapon. Who knows where she’ll be now and whether we’ll be able to find her.”

FRIDAY chimed in, “I’ve actually been able to track the van from the scene of the murder and found it parked outside a building just about a half hour from here. That was the last place she was spotted on camera.”

“Well then,” Sam stated, “it won’t be as difficult to find her as you thought.” 

They pulled into a grove of trees a half mile from the facility. Far enough to not be spotted by security cameras but close enough to make a quick escape. Sam cringed as the gravel road crunched noisily under their feet. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a dewy petrichor reminiscent of a spring afternoon. 

“If you want to be found you might want to walk a little louder.” Bucky grumbled.

“Hey man, I’m just trying to quicken up the pace so we can go save your girl.”

“She’s not,” Bucky blushed slightly, “she’s not my girl.” 

“Uh huh,” Sam said, “and you just happen to feel so bad about this because-”

Bucky interrupted him, “Because I’ve been there before! I’ve felt the guilt of being turned into a weapon. No one should have to go through that,” he whisper-shouted. “She’s an incredible person, but that’s all the more reason why she shouldn’t be with me. I don’t do relationships, not anymore. I don’t want someone to be put in harm’s way because of their connection to me. Now come on, we need to get there before she gets hurt even more.”

Hiding in the underbrush of the thicket outside the facility, Sam observed the security measures that HYDRA had put in place. “Look, there’s only two guards outside the door. If you can get us inside, we’re set. We shouldn’t have any trouble getting past them.”

“Getting in is the easy part,” Bucky responded, “it’s getting out that’s the tricky part.”

~~~

You awoke from the nightmare, blinking the sleep from your eyes. At least, you thought it was a nightmare, but one look at your surroundings told a different story. As you opened your eyes the clean bright light blinded you, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut before slowly reopening them. 

“Well, our little soldat is awake,” Alicia laughed. “I hope you enjoyed your, uh, shall we say rest?” 

“What did you do to me?” The anger you had felt before was building up again. Glancing at your wrists you saw you were no longer in chains. You could burn this place down to nothing but ashes. After what they did to your family, it would only be fair. 

“Oh, don’t worry. What we did to you was nothing compared to what you did to Miss Berlioz. See, our sources found out she was a double agent. And it seems that Elaine just couldn’t take the heat.”

Your voice was weak, “What,” you took a deep breath, “What are you talking about?” “You’re so inquisitive. I always liked that about you. You’ll see soon enough.” She clapped twice and a screen appeared in the wall. “We thought that by seeing your full potential, you’d be more, well, more willing to work with us. I’ll be back in a bit. Let me know what you think of the movie.” She smiled and walked out of the cell, the door blending in with the rest of the cell once it closed. 

You looked at the mirrored walls and instantly knew it was two way glass. You shuddered, realizing there were probably at least ten HYDRA agents watching you. Without warning the screen started to play what appeared to be security camera footage of an empty alleyway. A woman in civilian clothes appeared on screen. 

“Yes, Director Fury. I have the files. I’ll be there in an hour.” She put the phone back in her pocket. The sound of glass cracking was heard in the background and the woman whirled around and faced the screen. “Who’s there?” 

You stepped forward out of the shadows, the fire in your hand glowing white with heat. Before the woman on screen could react you pounced into action, grabbing a fistful of her hair, effectively setting her head ablaze. She cried out in pain as you latched onto her wrists. When you finally let go, the bone was exposed through charred flesh.

You squeezed your eyes shut, not able to bear seeing what came next. Bile rose in your throat as you continued to hear the screams over the speakers, until finally a sickening thud was heard. You opened your eyes to see yourself on screen standing over the body, almost burnt beyond recognition. The footage shut off, leaving you alone in the cell with your thoughts.

~~~

Taglist:

@sydneyisnotawriter

I hope all of you are staying safe and staying home! Like always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Love you all <3

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23 | AO3 link

“Wait, really?” Marinette’s mouth droops. “But he promised you could come to the concert!”

“I know he did,” Adrien’s voice says rather bitterly through the phone. “Apparently, I’m not good enough for him.”

“That’s rubbish!” If Marinette’s hands weren’t occupied with her phone and a cardboard box, she’d either be crossing her arms firmly or tugging on the hair that she’s left loose around her face today. “You’re a better pianist than half the people our age put together!”

“To be fair, I’d probably be better if I’d stop playing recordings to pretend I’m practicing while I actually go see – uh, go and do other things.”

Marinette snorts. “You sure you can’t sneak out? Put your foot down? It just won’t be the same without you here.”

“I would if I could. I’m sure Gorilla would cover for me if I asked, but there’s no getting past Nathalie. And she wouldn’t cover for me this time. She saw how annoyed Father was at my performance. Even if I could sneak out through my window, he’d know where I went, so there’d be no point. I wouldn’t want him to ruin your concert.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I know how much you were looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, well…I’d better go practice. Maybe if I’m up to his standards, he’ll let me come near the end. Better than nothing, right? And I was really looking forward to seeing Luka.”

“Luka? Who?”

“Juleka’s brother.”

Marinette blinks. “Juleka has a brother?”

“That was my reaction too,” Adrien says. “But he saved me and Kagami when we snuck out of fencing the other day and nearly got mobbed.”

“I’m not sure why they think chasing you down and demanding you marry them will make you want to do that,” Marinette snorts. “Anyway, good luck with your piano. I know you’ll smash it!”

“Don’t tempt me,” Adrien jokes. “Have fun, Marinette.”

“I will.”

The line goes dead a moment later. Marinette sighs and pockets her phone.

“Cap’n Anarka speakin’ to ya!” announces a rough woman’s voice. Marinette whirls around to see Juleka’s mother standing next to Rose with her hands on her hips, making Rose jump while adjusting the microphone stand with her sudden appearance. “So, how’s it comin’ along, me young pirates? Ready to celebrate the –”

Marinette gulps when Anarka’s blue eyes narrow at her. The older woman adjusts her red glasses before striding straight over to Marinette.

“Whatcha up to there, lady?” she says, snatching the box from Marinette. When Marinette explains that she’s cleaning the houseboat for the concert, Anarka laughs long and loud and then starts scattering the contents of the box everywhere on deck. “We never pick up in this house! Didn’t me daughter tell ya? We love the lived-in look! We have no rules on the Liberty! Out of chaos comes creation! Messiness is life!”

Huh. Maybe that’s why Marinette’s a hot artistic mess. With a smile, she heads with Alya and Nino into the steering room for a few minutes of quiet while Rose, Juleka, Mylène, and Ivan continue their loud preparations outside.

“Dude, don’t tell me Adrien’s dad put him on lockdown again,” Nino complains while Marinette rifles through a box on a shelf. She grimaces when a layer of dust billows out and coats her pink wrap-around top, white T-shirt, and blue jeans

“Afraid so,” she says, frowning as she pulls out a strange metal statue of a hand with its index and pinky fingers out. Nino groans.

“Bummer. I was lookin’ forward to hanging out with him for once.”

“We all were,” Alya says. “Man, and I thought my older sister was overprotective.” She takes the statue from Marinette, squints at it, then dumps it on the compass. “Wow, that’s creepy. I see where Juleka gets it from.”

“Juleka’s not creepy!” Marinette says. “She’s just…quietly punk.” When she reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, her bracelet gleams in the sunlight, and her eyes are irresistibly drawn to it as it brings back the vivid memory of Chat Noir and his confession to her on her birthday over two weeks ago. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she’s got strong feelings for him, but she also hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she’s not completely sure of their nature yet, although she’d be deceiving herself if she insisted that they were definitely not romantic.

And yet…she can’t get Chat Noir’s confession out of her head. The thought of him is enough to send tingles down her skin and butterflies through her stomach, but what if this is just a rebound thing? The only downside about romance built on friendship is that if the romance goes sour, what if the friendship does too? And she’ll be damned if she loses Chat Noir’s friendship, especially after all the nights they’ve spent together being utter dorks.

And none of this would have happened if not for André. She never would’ve had that conversation with Chat Noir when he came to comfort her. He never would’ve tried to start moving on from Ladybug and fallen for her instead. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even have been as cool as he was on her birthday.

What if…André’s ice cream hadn’t been referring to Adrien, but rather to Chat Noir? After all, Chat Noir’s lips are also peach pink – not that she’s been thinking about them, ha, not at all – and his hair and eyes are also gold and mint green. In that case, is André’s ice cream really magical? Had he really been predicting her soulmate?

“Oh, ho ho, sailors!” Anarka once again appears out of nowhere, this time to snatch the statue off the compass as Marinette and Alya jump and clutch their chests. “Never put a metal object next to a compass! Ya hear, lass? Metal attracts the needle just like a magnet, which is why ya can’t get ‘em anywhere near each other.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a deep literary metaphor in there somewhere,” Alya says sarcastically. Marinette and Nino conceal their laughter behind their hands.

“We’re ready, captain!” Rose salutes from the foot of the stairs, Juleka just behind her. Marinette can’t help but smile at what a cute couple they make. “Uh…but Luka’s missing!”

Anarka squints at Marinette. “Marinette, right? Since you’re free from yer cleanin’ duties, could ya go and tell Luka that we’re waitin’ for him to start rehearsals?”

“Of course!” Marinette says, then frowns. “But, uh…where is he?”

“In his cabin, of course!”

It’s a treacherous journey through the living room of the houseboat, what with the various musical items and other items scattered all over the floor. But there’s something comforting and warm about the mess; something that invites you to come in and revel in it. Marinette shrieks and jumps when she slips through a doorway and comes face-to-face with a boy sitting cross-legged on a bed, his eyes closed and his hands resting on his knees. Between his thumbs and index fingers are two black guitar picks, which make a lot more sense when Marinette catches sight of the black guitar next to him.

She jumps again when she realises that he’s opened his eyes and is staring straight at her with a smile. His eyes are the same shade of blue as his mother’s, also matching the teal tips of his black hair, and he’s wearing ripped black jeans and a short-sleeved blue jacket over a white Jagged Stone shirt.

Holy crap. He’s gorgeous.

“Hey!” Marinette blurts out. “My name’s Mama – Ma-Ma-Marinette!” Oh god, she’s stammering again. Why is this her life? She takes a deep breath to compose herself and pushes on. “Your mum sent me down here. The groove – ah, the group’s waiting for you.”

“Hello, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” the boy – Luka – says in a cool voice, then snickers behind his hand. Marinette’s heart drops. Great. He’s gorgeous, but he’s also a jerk. This is really Juleka’s brother? Her feelings must be painted across her face, because Luka’s smile vanishes, and he adds, “Sorry. I tend to make more sense with this.”

He pats the bed next to him. Marinette accepts the invitation, while he slings his guitar around his neck and then strums a few chords.

“That’s strange.” Luka frowns at her. “It seems you have something like this in your heart.” He plays a short tune, rising and falling in pitch, somehow exactly matching the utter chaos that’s currently got Marinette’s heart in a vice grip. She closes her eyes and rests a hand on her heart, losing herself in the sweet melody, and it takes a moment for her brain to register that Luka’s stopped playing.

“How do you do that?” she says in awe. Luka smiles at her when she opens her eyes.

“Music is often simpler than words,” is all he says. Marinette hums and jumps up to get a closer look at the pick collection underneath his Jagged Stone poster. Her eyes are drawn to a pick with Jagged Stone’s face, which she grabs so that she can get a closer look.

“You like Jagged Stone?” she says.

“He’s my favourite singer.” Luka slides off the bed to stand next to her.

“Mine too!”

Luka’s smile widens, and he looks at the pick in her hand. “You can have it if you like. I’ve got plenty.”

“Thanks!”

“I think I’d better go and join the… “groove” you said,” Luka says, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Marinette whines and facepalms.

“Did I really –? Oh no! At least Adrien wasn’t here to see that. He’d never let me live it down, the dork.”

“Adrien?” Luka tilts his head. “You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s one of my best friends. You’re the guy who saved him from being mobbed, right?”

Luka nods. “He wasn’t ready for a child just yet.”

“Uh…what?”

“An inside joke. One of his fans was screaming for him to have her babies.”

Marinette shudders. “Ick. I can’t believe I used to be like that.”

“That’s not the impression I get.” Luka plays a few oxymoronic notes, somehow both chaotic and gentle. “You have a passionate heart. You just struggle with your chaotic brain. You’re not the kind of person to behave like that.”

“Seriously, how do you do that?” Marinette complains as blood rushes to pool in her cheeks and stomach.

“Just like I told Adrien, I can hear people’s heart songs,” Luka says. Whoa. Seriously? That’s…how is that possible? “And just like I told Adrien, I talk to Juleka. You’re a funny girl, Marinette.”

With that, Luka heads out of the room, leaving Marinette scrambling to catch up so that she’s not left all alone with her whirling thoughts because nope, nope, this is not happening. Although what happens only minutes later is enough to push all thoughts of Luka from her mind, when Anarka is reprimanded by Roger Raincomprix for pretty much blowing the sound barrier with Kitty Section and their instruments. Apparently, Hawkmoth doesn’t take a day off, because Marinette can’t even enjoy a music festival with her friends without him being a bastard and akumatising someone. Before anyone can so much as blink, Anarka has became the pirate Captain Hardrock, with a sentient ship totally under her control that chains up Marinette and her friends when they try to reason with Captain Hardrock and point out that maybe Roger had a point about the volume.

“Ow!” Rose cries when her head knocks against the wood. Groaning, Marinette struggles to sit up, pushing back against Luka to as a counterweight; thankfully, he catches on and adds his force to the equation to help them sit up. Around them, the other bound pairs are doing the same.

“Well,” Alya says when they’ve all rolled to a stop in the ship’s hold. “That was fun. Now what?”

“I guess we wait for Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Nino says. Marinette’s eyes dart down to her purse, not that that’ll do much good since she can’t very well transform in front of a bunch of people, especially someone she’s only just met. Luckily, Tikki’s skills extend beyond magical transformations, as she’s able to zip out of the purse and phase through the padlock securing the chains around Marinette and Luka.

“Wow!” Luka exclaims when their chains fall away. “How’d you do that?”

Marinette freezes and fumbles for an explanation. She dips her hand into her purse to make sure that Tikki’s back inside, and her fingers close around the pick that Luka had given her. Perfect! “Uh…with this!” she says, showing him the pick. Luka smiles as he climbs to his feet.

“You’re a real magician, Marinette,” he says, helping her up. Marinette scoffs.

“Oh, it was nothing! Just – you know –” Her face grows warm under Luka’s awestruck gaze.

“Ahem.” Alya clears her throat. “When you’re quite ready?”

But before Marinette and Luka can work on freeing the others, Captain Hardrock comes stomping down the stairs. With a hasty apology, Marinette and Luka sprint through the door behind them and secure it shut with Luka’s guitar, and while this isn’t enough to keep Captain Hardrock out, it buys them enough time to get the window open. Luka immediately pushes Marinette towards the bed and points at the slim but long drawer built into the base. Catching on, she races over and shuts herself inside, and not a moment too soon.

“Run, Marinette! Quick!” Luka calls when the door smashes open. Marinette’s heart leaps into her throat at Luka’s pained cry when Captain Hardrock’s chains capture him again, but his sacrifice works; Captain Hardrock storms out of the room a moment later, clearly under the impression that Marinette had escaped through the window, dragging Luka with her judging by the scraping sound that accompanies her.

“Phew! That was close!” Tikki says when Marinette pushes the drawer back open and clambers out.

“I have to save my friends!” Marinette clenches her fists. “Tikki, spots on!”

Chat Noir’s already arrived when Ladybug finally manages to sneak up to the deck. Although the battle against Captain Hardrock and the Liberty is fairly straightforward as far as akuma fights go, it’s made far more difficult by the fact that Ladybug’s got a constant chanting of don’t flirt with the cat in her head to keep her on track because if Ladybug is one thing, it’s not a hypocrite. She can’t exactly flirt with Chat Noir after lecturing him about inappropriate timing in the wake of Green Giant, especially since he doesn’t even know that it’s her civilian form that he’s caught feelings for and vice versa.

With the help of the metal clasp of her Lucky Charm chain and Chat Noir, they chain Captain Hardrock to the ship’s compass and, just like when Alya had put the statue on top of it, the compass goes haywire around the clasp. This time, though, the entire ship is affected by the compass going out of control, and they manage to steer the ship up one of the slopes on the bank of the Seine and crash-land on a patch of grass. With the ship out of commission and the prisoners in the hull no longer in danger, it’s a simple matter for Chat Noir to Cataclysm the compass and disintegrate the ship, freeing the akuma for Ladybug to purify.

Pity, though, that Chat Noir has to book it as soon as Captain Hardrock turns back into Anarka. Ladybug wouldn’t have minded a bit of post-battle banter with him, along with asking what was up with him earlier. But really, it’s probably for the best for her headspace, considering that she’s only ninety-nine percent sure that she wants to be with him and it’s that one percent that’s shrieking inside her skull that she’s going to mess everything up.

“You okay, girl?” Alya says when Ladybug’s detransformed and re-joined everyone as Marinette.

“Uh huh,” Marinette mumbles. Alya raises an eyebrow but she thankfully doesn’t push the issue.

An hour or so later, while Kitty Section is still rehearsing for the music festival, they’re pleasantly surprised by a familiar face boarding the houseboat, waving and beaming at everyone.

“Adrien! Hi!” Marinette bounces on the spot and waves. Adrien’s face lights up and he waves back, then immediately trips and sends a long, thin black case flying, and Marinette can’t help the flutters inside her and the giggle that escapes her at what a dork he is.

“Adrien!” Nino runs over to help Adrien sit up. “You okay, bro?”

“Nah, it’s all good, I –” Adrien pauses rubbing his head to open the case he’d knocked over, revealing a keyboard inside. “Whoa, an original ZX20.4? I love the sound of this instrument!”

“Aww, that old thing?” Anarka scoffs. “No one knows how to play it.”

“I know how to play it,” Adrien says.

“Great.” Luka holds out a hand to help Adrien to his feet. “Welcome to the band, Adrien.”

Adrien beams. “Really? Thanks, Luka!”

Luka and Adrien still haven’t let go of the other’s hand. An odd look passes between them, making Marinette squint, until Adrien catches sight of her and quickly lets go of Luka’s hand.

“Looks like I could make it after all!” Adrien says to her. Marinette grins and gives him a thumbs-up.

“Your dad caved in?” she says. Adrien shrugs.

“Yeah. I think I impressed him enough.”

“Can’t wait to see how you impress us, then,” Luka says. Adrien jumps, his cheeks pinkening, and Marinette raises her eyebrows and bites her lip when Luka smiles and winks at him as well as her.

Well. One thing’s for sure: the future’s going to be very, very interesting.

[profitinaecho]

So You Wanna Spin the World Around ch2

You have got to be kidding me, Liz thinks. She flushes and looks around disoriented. Licking her lips nervously, which Max follows with his eyes fascinated, Liz takes his hand. “Hello, Max. I didn’t know you were a detective here.”

Her mouth suddenly feels dry and her nipples harden as she is flooded with memories from their night together. He is such a sweet, respectful man. Until you get his clothes off and it becomes a completely different story- one she would love to visit again.

“Is that a problem?” Max’s chocolate brown eyes search her lighter ones like they hold the secret to the universe. His dark bangs hang boyishly over his forehead from the angle he has to look down at her because she is so much shorter than he is.

Liz shakes her head in answer and gently slips her hand from his. “I’m here to see Sheriff Valenti. She’s pairing me with a detective to work on a case.”

Max eyes her speculatively then jumps when he hears his superior's voice cut through their conversation. “Detective Evans! Stop boxing the forensic scientist in so she can come join us in the conference room.”

Michele Valenti became the sheriff of Roswell in the election after her husband passed away. She is a short latino woman who worked her way up the ranks and expects no nonsense. Her voice booms and is assertive, largely to ensure that no one questions her size or authority. She is clearly the one calling the shots in this precinct.

“Did you bring your crime scene analysis for those four Jane Doe’s to discuss and see if they were related?” The sheriff asks Liz, looking at the folders Liz is holding.

“Of course- with a few extra copies for the meeting. I also ran the DNA and are ready to discuss the results.” Liz follows the sheriff to the conference room confidently with her shoulders back while Max follows closely behind them, trying and failing not to check out Liz’s ass.

“This is Detective Evans. He will be the detective you are paired with to work on this case.” The sheriff gestures back towards Max.

Liz wills herself not to react to that news as if it is a shock to her, and nods in agreement. This will not be awkward at all, considering she has already seen him naked in all sorts of positions. “We just met in the lobby.”

They enter a conference room with a handful of officers already seated. Max sits down  in the front row next to the wall and the sheriff sits in the middle in the back to oversee the meeting. Handing out the folders of preemptive tests she ran on the cases that were sent to her, Liz makes eye contact with Max as she hands him his folder and gasps out a breath when their fingers brush and electricity shoots straight to her clit.

His lips part and tongue peaks out to lick his lips as if he feels something too. Liz can remember vividly how it felt to have that tongue circling her bare nipple, among other places, during their night together and is entranced. A sound- part groan and part sigh- escapes her lips watching his tongue.

Max’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush at the sound. She’s still holding the folder and he discreetly tries to pull it from her grip on it. It only takes a couple seconds but Liz is convinced that if the sheriff could read their thoughts, they would be fired on the spot. His deep baritone voice feels like a caress across her skin when he rumbles out a quiet thank you to her. Maybe she should request a different officer? But what would she say? I’m sorry, I can’t work with this officer because I am intimately acquainted with his cock? Not a good career move.

As she goes to move on to the next officer to pass out the rest of the folders, Max’s fingers wrap around her wrist and slide something small into her hand. “Hold on. You dropped something.”

He can quite clearly remember being on his knees between her legs and the way she tasted. Based on the way she is shifting nervously and the flush in her cheeks, she can too. She left without leaving him her contact information and he needs to talk to her as soon as possible about that night to make working together less awkward. Some closure would also be nice. He has been worried that he did something wrong since that night to not deserve a goodbye. On his end, it was the best sex of his life and she seemed to enjoy it, so why did she leave?

Liz almost drops her folders at his contact against her bare skin and he discreetly hands her a folded piece of paper. She mutters thank you and his fingers slide away from her wrist. There’s no way she dropped anything since Liz is still holding all of her folders. Liz gives him a strained smile before moving on to the next officer and handing him his folder. She passes out the rest of her folders and then goes to the front of the room.

“As you can see from the autopsy done on Jane Doe #1, the victim died of strangulation by some sort of ligature. Semen was found and DNA tested- more on that in a little bit. The victim was 18 years old and latina.” Liz confidently states her findings. “Next page, we have Jane Doe #2, a mid 20s woman listed as a transient. She also died of strangulation with a ligature and had a semen sample to be DNA tested.”

Taking a deep breath for the next part, as it greatly frustrated her, Liz continued. “On the next page, we have Jane Doe #3. As you can see, she also died of strangulation with a ligature and was also a mid 20s latina. However, the DNA sample you gave me came back as having three different people’s DNA present in it- the victim, an unknown male and an unknown female. Usually this means that the sample was contaminated and the evidence would not hold up in court. In the future, I need to be the one to take samples to ensure it is done in a way that isn’t cross contaminated with the officers like Jane Doe #3. I would be happy to teach all of your officers to collect a proper usable sample, Sheriff, so that we do not lose DNA in the future. And if at all possible, I need access to that body to get another sample.”

To Max’s left, an officer scoffs and rolls his eyes. He is pretty positive that is the officer that found Jane Doe #3’s body and took the contaminated sample. When he mutters something about not needing to be told how to do his job, Max discreetly kicks him under the table. “So sorry.” Max whispers, although he definitely did it on purpose.

“Jane Doe #3 was cremated a month ago, unfortunately. We will have to make due with the sample we have. And what of Jane Doe #4?” Sheriff Valenti steepled her hands under her chin, watching Liz speculatively.

“On the 4th page, we have Jane Doe #4. She was an african american female in her early 20s and died of strangulation with a ligature. Her DNA was able to be tested. Interestingly, all four victims’ samples contained DNA from the same unknown male perpetrator. I need to have a detective run that DNA profile through CODUS to see if there is a match to a known felon in the system. And I need to cross reference the missing person’s reports around this time period to the victim profiles to see if we can ID some of these women and notify their families.”

“I’ll get right on that, Ms. Ortecho. I’ll move that to the top of my todo list.” Max gives her one of those half smiles that pops his dimple and tips his hat slightly at her.

Liz pauses for a moment and flushes before coming back to herself. “And most importantly, there appears to be enough evidence to suggest that all four cases might be linked. We might be dealing with a serial killer here.”

___________________

Entering the bathroom after her presentation, Liz unfolds the piece of paper Max gave her. It simply says “We need to talk” in his neat scrawl along with his phone number. She sighed and slipped it into her purse to deal with later. After doing her business and washing her hands, she jumps when she exits the bathroom to see Max standing there.

“I was just going to put that sample into CODUS. You want to be sure I do it to your standards?” He teased her.

“Sure. But Detective Evans, you’ve never had trouble doing anything to my standards.” As soon as she said it, Liz covered her ruby painted mouth. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I said that. That never happened.”

Max chuckled at her slip and winked conspiratorially. “I didn’t hear a thing. Follow me, my office is this way.”

Liz follows him closely to his office and wills herself not to check out his bubble butt as he walks slightly bow legged to his office. Max playfully covers his keyboard while he enters his password to hide it from her. Then he pulls up the CODUS database and asks Liz to read the numbers on the DNA samples to him to cross check with felons in the database to try to find the perpetrator. The computer soon bings with no results found.

“Try searching for relatives of the sample.” Liz suggests, leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen. Max feels like he is surrounded by her desert rose scent and briefly blanks out on what he was doing. Taking his hand on the mouse when he doesn’t move fast enough, Liz moves the cursor to the part of the screen to check to also check for relatives. “The square is kind of hidden if you haven’t used it before.” She explains, before flushing realizing her hand is still over his and quickly moving it back to her side.

“No results detected.” Max reads on the screen. “Huh. So the perpetrator’s DNA was found on all four samples but is not someone yet known to the system. We have our work cut out for us.”

“We will catch him.” Liz reassures him.

“We have to before he kills again. Ok, so lets try the Jane Doe’s to see if we can find a match in the system. Read Jane Doe #1’s barcode number for me?” Max waits for her to start reading the long number out with his fingers poised over the keyboard and types as she reads it to him.  

They do this for all of the Jane Doe’s and manage to identify Jane Doe #3 as a mentally ill woman who was in and out of jail just before her death. Sighing, Max tousles his hair in frustration. “Ok, if I pull the missing person’s reports for the last three years to try to match the characteristics with any of the victims, will you help me sort through them? It’s going to be binders full of people.”

“Ok. And we can cross check anyone we flag to see if we agree.” Liz suggests, flopping in the chair across from his desk while she waits for him to go pull the files they need to go through.

“And then, I’m taking you to dinner. We have a lot to talk about and we will both be starving by then.” Max adds, popping his head back in his office. When Liz opens her mouth to suggest that going to dinner alone maybe isn’t the best idea, he holds up his hand. “On me. Don’t argue.”

Max returns with six binders full of missing person reports. If any of the characteristics match a victim, they will then need to find a family member to test for DNA to match them to the victim and positively ID the victim. After hours of flagging missing person’s reports of early 20s women, it is  6pm and technically time to clock out.

“I’m going to stay and finish these. We only have two binders left.” Liz tells him, picking up another 3” binder full of papers to sort through.

“I’ll stay with you to finish up. We can order take out while we work. Do you like chinese food?” Max sits down on the floor leaning against the wall closest to Liz with the last binder. All of the previous binders have dozens of little flagged pages in each of them. Identifying the victims will be a lot of work and this is just the beginning. Max grabs one of the neon pink sticky flags Liz brought and puts it on the report he is reading because the report is about a latina in her early 20s.

“Of course I eat chinese food. What kind of soulless person doesn’t?” Liz laughs, flipping the page she was reading. “Oooh do they have teriyaki chicken with noodles?”

“I’ll make sure to find a place that has what you want.” Max assures her. “We work well together.” He looks up at her shyly through his bangs sitting on the floor by her feet.

“We do.” Liz agrees, smiling warmly at him.

When her stomach growls loudly, Max laughs. “Ok, ok, I’m calling. Your food will be here soon.”

[heartofether]

Episode 3 - Heterochromia TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S LIVING ROOM, MORNING.]

[THERE IS A GROSS, SLIMEY NOISE IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

The mold has spread up onto the chair…huh. 

[PHONE BEEP]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[TIME JUMP: THAT EVENING.]

[INT. IRENE’S WORK.]

IRENE So, I’m actually recording this at work. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to do that. I have a few minutes until I leave, though, so I thought I might as well. I’ve hardly talked to anyone all day.

You wouldn’t know anything about my job, would you? No, I guess not. I’m a Forestry Aid, like I’ve said before. They need extra workers this time of year, because, you know, fire season. We take care of the forest, basically. That’s the most simplistic way to describe it, though it only scratches the surface. There’s a lot more to it, but—

[HER OFFICE DOOR OPENS.]

CAROL Say, Irene, did you ever finish writing up that data?

IRENE Oh, uh, yeah. I thought I sent it to you.

CAROL Well, it must not have gone through, then, ‘cause I don’t have it.

IRENE Sorry, sorry. I’ll send it again.

[THERE’S TYPING AND CLICKING NOISES AS IRENE WORKS.]

CAROL Don’t worry about it. Probably an issue on my end, if anything. I’m honestly surprised you’re still here. Aiden already went home.

IRENE I was just about to head out, actually. [A MOUSE CLICK] There.

CAROL Appreciate it. Say, got any plans tonight? I know Friday summer nights are a sacred thing to you younger folk.

IRENE No, not really. [MUTTERS] Not like I have anyone to see, anyways.

CAROL Oh, sorry to hear that.

IRENE It’s fine, really. I’ll just do a crossword or something.

[PAUSE, THEN]

CAROL Want to swing by my place?

IRENE [TAKEN ABACK] Actually?

CAROL Mmhm. I mean, it’s nothing fancy, just a small apartment on the outskirts of town, but we could have a drink or something. You could meet my cat. That is, if you’re alright with spending your Friday night with an old lady and her cat.

IRENE [SHE THINKS FOR A MOMENT] Um, yeah, sure! That sounds great. I mean, it’s not like I have anything better to do.

CAROL Delightful. Here, let me write down the address for you.

[CAROL WRITES SOMETHING DOWN ON A PIECE OF PAPER.]

CAROL There you have it. I’m headin’ out now, so as soon as you wrap up here, just come on down. [PAUSES, THEN, SURPRISED] Are you recording this?

IRENE What? [REALIZES] Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot that was on.

CAROL [SKEPTICAL] No worries, just, why—

IRENE [OVERLAPPING] It’s like an audio diary? Sort of. They’re kind of for someone specific, but that person’s probably not going to actually hear them. I just use it when I need to talk, or just want to get something off my chest.

CAROL [SLOWLY] Right.

IRENE Yeah.

CAROL …well, see ya’ in a bit!

IRENE Yup, you too. Thank you, Carol!

[THE OFFICE DOOR CLOSES AS CAROL LEAVES. IRENE SLAMS HER HEAD ON HER DESK.]

IRENE [MUMBLES] I can’t keep doing this.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[EXT. CAROL’S APARTMENT COMPLEX, NIGHT.]

[CRICKETS AND OTHER OUTDOOR AMBIENCE IS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND. THERE ARE CARS GOING BY IN THE DISTANCE.]

IRENE I’m parked outside of Carol’s apartment complex. I saw her truck, so I’m guessing I just have to go up and knock.

I don’t know why I agreed to this. She’s nice, but she’s my boss and like, eighteen years older than me. What can we even talk about? I haven’t really “had a drink” with anyone since…well, since college, and I hardly even socialized in college whatsoever. Maybe I should say that something came up, or—

[SHE HUFFS A SIGH.] It’s just one drink. One drink, and a chat to get to know your boss.

Uh, I guess I should turn this off? Or…well, what if—okay, I’m probably just being over dramatic, but I’ll keep it on just in case—something happens? In case she’s actually about to murder me?

I’m sorry, that was insensitive. Man, I really haven’t socialized with anyone in a long time.

[IRENE OPENS AND CLOSES THE DOOR TO HER CAR AS THE BACKGROUND NOISES OF THE OUTDOORS GET LOUDER. SHE WALKS ACROSS CONCRETE TO THE COMPLEX, GOES UP SOME STAIRS, THEN WALKS TO CAROL’S FRONT DOOR. SHE KNOCKS, AND THE DOOR OPENS ALMOST INSTANTLY.]

CAROL Well, hey there, Irene. Come on in.

IRENE Hey. Thank you.

[CAROL CLOSES THE DOOR, AND THE BACKGROUND NOISE FADES TO A STOP.]

CAROL I wanted to apologize real quick in case this—oh, put your shoes just right over there—but anyways, I know this probably seemed a bit out of the blue.

[AS CAROL TALKS, IRENE DROPS HER SHOES BY THE FRONT DOOR.]

IRENE It kind of was, yeah.

CAROL I just like being familiar with the people I work with, you know? It’s a small town. Folks are friendly, but it's hard to find support systems even then. Trust me, I know. Don’t worry, Aiden went through this same kinda treatment when he first got hired on.

IRENE Is that supposed to be comforting?

CAROL [HESITATES] Maybe? Aiden is just a bit more outgoing, I guess— [DEFENSIVE] Which isn’t a good or bad thing, just a fact.

IRENE [STRUGGLING TO PUT IT INTO WORDS] Aiden is…

CAROL A bit much sometimes?

IRENE Yeah.

CAROL Gotta love him for it, though.

IRENE I guess.

[THERE’S PADDED FOOTSTEPS AS THEY WALK TO THE KITCHEN.]

CAROL What’s your poison, kid? I know, I know, you’re probably new to the whole drinking scene, but take a shot at it.

IRENE [WARY] Um, whatever you’re having? I really don’t drink much. Plus, I still have to drive home, so not something super strong.

CAROL [HUMS] I got cranberry juice, too, if you just want that.

IRENE [RELIEVED] That might be safer, yeah.

CAROL Understood. You don’t have to worry about me pressuring you, you have my word. I’ve had enough experience in my life to know better than that.

[AS SHE CONTINUES TO TALK, CAROL POURS A DRINK.]

CAROL So how’s life in Daughtler treating you so far?

IRENE Fine, I guess? I mean, I like it here. It’s smaller than I’m used to, but the scenery is nice.

CAROL [AMUSED] Oh yes, the woods ‘round these parts sure are something, huh?

I just wanted to check in. You’ve never talked about your life outside work before, and I know it’s none of my business, but where exactly are you staying right now? Do you have a good home, or people you’re living with?

IRENE Nope, I live alone. I live up by Lemongrass Park? In that one house with the green windowsills?

CAROL [CHUCKLES] I know exactly what you’re talking about. Might be older than I am, but if it ain’t a beautiful house. You know, I knew the man who used to live there. Before he succumbed to his bad habits and all that.

IRENE How was he?

CAROL Mm, zealous? A bit full of himself, too, though nobody ever knew what he was talking about. He never let anyone come over, but I saw him and this woman go in and out a lot.

IRENE [CONTEMPLATIVE] Huh.

CAROL Still, in all seriousness, you got anyone to talk to, Irene? Aiden and I don’t count, and neither do your phone recordings.

IRENE [DEFENSIVE] My audio logs are technically addressed to someone. [PAUSES, THEN, SOFTER] No, I get what you mean. My dad, I guess? He helped me move down here.

CAROL Any friends, or…?

[THERE IS A LONG PAUSE. A CAT IS HEARD MEOWING IN THE DISTANCE.]

IRENE [CLEARLY TRYING TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT] Is that your cat?

CAROL [DEFEATED] Yup, that’s Mothman. I’m sure he’s freaking out because there’s a new person in the house.

[FOOTSTEPS AS IRENE GOES TO WHERE MOTHMAN IS SAT.]

IRENE [IN A BABY VOICE] Hey there, Mothman! You look a lot like a cat I used to know, don’t you, you little identity thief? [IN A NORMAL, SURPRISED TONE] Oh, wow, yeah, you’ve got the same heterochromia and everything. That’s—

[SHE STOPS] Who’s in this photo?

[THERE’S A FAINT PURRING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

CAROL Oh, that? [HESITATES] That’s my daughter, Rachel.

IRENE Ah. Yellowstone, right? She looks so happy. How old is she in this?

CAROL [GRIM] Eight, I believe. She’s fourteen now.

IRENE Where is she? Is she home right now?

CAROL Nah, she’s with her dad down in Montana right now.

IRENE That’s— [SHE REALIZES HER MISTAKE] I’m so sorry, really, I shouldn’t have—

CAROL [SHE GIVES A FORCED CHUCKLE] Don’t worry about it, Irene. I think I pried enough into your life, you deserve to know a bit about me. 

Rachel’s my pride and joy, don’t get me wrong, but her dad ain’t a big fan of me. Next time she comes up here, though, you should come over and meet her. She’s a bright kid.

IRENE [HESITANT, SLOWLY] I look forward to meeting her.

CAROL [THROUGH A TIGHT-LIPPED SMILE] Excellent. [SHE PAUSES] Would you look at the time. I’m guessing you want to get home before too late?

IRENE Yeah, I should probably get going. Thank you so much for having me over. This is a nice apartment.

[THERE’S FOOTSTEPS AS IRENE BEGINS TO HEAD OUT.]

CAROL [SINCERE] I appreciate it. Drive safe, okay?

IRENE Yup. I’ll see you Monday. [IN HER BABY VOICE] And don’t think this is the last you’ll see of me, mister.

[THE FRONT DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES, AND THE OUTDOOR AMBIENCE AND CRICKET NOISES RETURN. IRENE WALKS AS SHE TALKS.]

IRENE [MUTTERS] Didn’t get killed, obviously. Unless there was poison in that juice. 

[SHE COMES TO A HALT.]

IRENE I’m not kidding, Rose. That cat looked exactly like Sir Griffin the Third.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE Today’s quote is: “Memories and thoughts age, just as people do. But certain thoughts can never age, and certain memories can never fade.” 

Haruki Murakami in The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, 1994.

[THEME MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[fighterflyer]

Undertale/Swap SI: Katherine Beaumont

Art by @melle-d

If there’s an AU already called UnderVerse in the fandom that I don’t know about, no, this SI has no association with it.

While presently the story I’m writing her in is a slightly divergent Underswap, I may also end up writing her in other AUs as well, such as Undertale or Underfell if I’m so inclined. So this is mostly just her general information, while specific relationships will be verse dependant. Hence, why I’m just using the sag “Self-Insert UnderVerse” to keep this out of any other UnderVerse tags.

Anywho, this is the first Self-Insert bio I’ll be posting here since I’m having an easier time writing the Underswap story she’s in rn! But considering I don’t really alter her personality in the other AUs, this can apply to the other universes to.

As far as F/Os go, I’ll make it simple in the event you DON’T wanna go through this novel of a bio:

1. Both in UT and US, she adopts Frisk and becomes her companion/adoptive mother/big-sister figure in the verse. [I don’t swap Frisk and Chara in my US-verse] So Frisk is a platonic/family F/O.

2. In UT, her love interest is kind of up in the air. It could be Sans or Asgore, idk.

3. In US, she’s shipped with Sans/Blueberry.

~~~~~

Name: Katherine Alyson Beaumont Nicknames/Aliases: Kit/Kat, Kitty/Kitten, Katie, Kathie | Fighterfly [Internet Handles and Gaming alias] Race: Human (50% English, 25% Native American, 25% Norwegian) Setting: UNDERTALE

Affiliation: Dreemurr Kingdom Occupation: Freelance Writer/Artist | Published Short Story Author Gender|Sex: Female (She/Her Pronouns) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual/Panromantic Age: 25 Birthdate: June 20th Height: 5'9 [5'11 in shoes/boots] Weight: 215 lbs, though loses weight over time Build: Cello-shaped, a noticeably curved figure with noticeable pudge in her stomach and thighs, slender shoulders, wide hips, and a large C-cup chest. Slender, average length arms and legs; no thigh gap. Soul: Purple with trace veins of Green and Orange (Perseverance with trace amounts of Kindness and Bravery). When her powers are in use, her soul glows only bright purple but shows the detailed veins when she's just showing it. Facial Details: Round face shape. Small nose, medium eyebrows, and downturned, bow-shaped lips (with cupid's bow). Skin: Pale Caucasian skin. Lightly freckled cheeks, nose, and tops of her shoulders. Slight scarring on her face and shoulders from years of scratching at herself. (optional for visuals) Hair: Dark brown. Naturally wavy, upper-back length, usually tied up into a ponytail. Bangs are usually overgrown and long, and pushed aside to frab both sides of her face. Eventually dyes her hair half bright blue with pale lilac streaks, half rose pink with trace yellow-orange streaks. Eyes: Soft dark brown eyes; medium-sized and almond shaped. Lashes are short in length and thickness. Always wearing glasses for poor vision, but she has them infused with magical energy by Toriel/Asgore [depending on the verse] to enable her to CHECK the statuses of Monsters and Humans alike and increase awareness and accuracy; they are impossible to break as well. Eyes glow a solid dark violet color when a great amount of her power is in use. Ideal Voice Actress: Anne Hathaway Distinguishing Features: - She has light scarring on her legs, thighs, arms, and hands from years of scratching, biting and chewing herself during autistic meltdowns. - Stretch marks on her stomach, thighs, hips and breasts. - When a great amount of her power is in use, the pigment above her veins on her neck, wrists/hands and ankles/feet glow a dark violet color. Dress Style: - While Kit admires several different styles, she's been kind of boxed into a corner of jeans, shirts, jackets and blouses that either hide her figure completely or compress her stomach to hide her pudge, with no real sense of style or passion, for most of her life. She's expressed an interest in pastel-goth styles and Bohemian styles, but she doesn't start exploring these styles until she starts detaching herself from her mother's limitations. Above everything else, however, her one requirement is comfort; how well the fabric breathes, whether it's scratchy or otherwise feels weird, etc. Because of her autism, she's very sensitive to texture and requires very soft fabrics. She'll almost always try to wear something with extended sleeves to have something to grip onto when she needs to stim. Common Accessories: - Silver metal slip-on bracelet with etching in it that reads "she believed she could, so she did" - CHECK Specs (Glasses charmed by magic to CHECK Monsters and Humans) - Specific Styles:  - Winter Style: VERY sensitive to the cold, she avoids going outside during winter as much as possible and when she does have to go out, she doesn't care enough about fashion. She'll throw on any boots, socks, pants, sweater, jacket, hat and gloves that will fit her and keep her warm. The only preferences she has is that she likes shin-high soft fuzzy boots, hats with side flaps, hoodies and really cute sweaters.  - Summer Style: She's also very sensitive to the heat, so will forgo any sense of fashion and dress lightly with just t-shirts and shorts. As her confidence builds, though, she may wear pretty sundresses too.  - Swimwear: Will never wear a one piece since she hates how confining they are, but will never wear a bikini, hating to expose her stomach. She'll usually wear a cute, skirted two-piece suit that covers her stomach.  - Nightwear: Usually sleeps in either a comfortable, beautiful nightgown, a cute pajama top and underwear, just her underwear, or nude. Typical Inventory: - Backpack containing:  - Laptop + Accessories (Power Cord, USB drives)  - iPhone + Accessories (Phone Case, Stylus, Headphones)  - Game Case      - DS XL      - Gameboy Advance      - DS and Gameboy Games      - Chargers for Both Devices  - Lined Notepad  - Sketchpad  - Change of Clothes - Medium-sized Shoulder-slung Purse containing...  - Large Pencil Case      - Pencils      - Pens      - Hair Ties/Ribbons      - Small Book of Sticky Notes      - Phone Charger      - Wallet with Cash, Change, Credit Cards and Coupons, as well as a "Wallet Knife"      - Makeup Compact with Concealer and Blush [Both to touch up her concealing and to see people's reflections in the mirror]  - Hygiene Products  - Small First Aid Kit  - 2 Cameras, One Digital, One Polaroid  - Change of Clothes - Lunch Satchel [Typically has a meal, snacks, and a drink inside] - Pocket Knife - Handgun with Ammunition Rounds in a holster on her belt Proficiencies/Skills: - Deduction/Puzzle Solving - Creativity (Writing, Drawing, Creative Improvisation) - Cooking/Baking - Leadership and Strategy - Computer Use [Fast Typing and Digital Processing] - Emotional/Mental Health Support - Learning/Information Processing - Gaming [Video games and Card Games] - Horseback Riding - Singing Special Abilities: [*Learns within the story] - Purple Magic    - A certain kind of telekinesis. Purple magic is a slight variation of Blue Magic; it's less "Gravity-Based" and a bit more free-range, but not always as powerful as Blue Magic.    - Induction of, and resistant to, KARMA and Poison. Because of the experiments she was put under as one of the rare humans to have an innate form of magic, she also has access to KARMA and Poison, which can manifest and be inflicted on others upon physical content under severe emotional duress. Almost always non-fatal, but can be harmful under prolonged exposure; usually just a brief defense mechanism. - Mixed Magic*    - Healing    - Fire    - Water - Dream Walking* - Limited Telepathy* - SAVE, LOAD, And RESET Personality: "I guess we’re both on our own in the world, huh? The way I see it, there’s no sense in being on our own alone, ya know? So... how ‘bout, for the time being... we be on our own together?” Truthfully, it can be hard to tell what Katherine Beaumont’s true personality is, as she’s been conditioned to be extremely guarded, forced, or all-over-the-place about her true feelings, thoughts, and demeanor, be it around family or complete strangers. Because of her overbearing, perfectionistic upbringing and a history of harassment, Kit tends to carry a polite, patient and disposition around most people she doesn’t know very well. She always does her best to be polite and socially acceptable, and is always much more mindful and conscious of her behavior around others because of her autism and years of her lack of tact and social grace coming back to bite her. She’s mostly mastered the ways of social grace over her years of conscious training and practice, but as a result, can be very nervous, shy, and timid around others, always concerned she may be doing something wrong or unacceptable, or not doing something she should be doing. A socially anxious introvert, she rarely goes out of her way to make friends, but is almost never uncivil or disrespectful towards others. “Perfect polite little angel” is her default MO towards strangers and some family. Those who know her well, however, would tell you a completely different story, and while most of it is true, even what they see still doesn’t quite hit the mark of her true inner self. Her close friends and family will see a very laid-back, casual and fun-loving young woman with an excitable energy, an unpredictable sense of humor that changes like the seasons - ranging from sharp, snappy wit, snide dry sarcasm, inhuman noises a human diaphragm should not be capable of making and sex jokes - and a kind, loving heart with a head like iron, powerful protective streak and a long-fuse-big-explosion style temperament. Though her timidity can still persist even around her close friends and she has a tendency to be extremely sensitive, she’s infinitely more comfortable showing some of her true colors around them. She does have a hidden wild side and a certain bravery and courage underneath the shy timidity, but it’s all foreign and unexplored to her; a lot of it has to be dragged out by others or forced out by herself. She never regrets it, but as much as she loves those moments of freedom, she’s still unused to anything like that and tends to instinctively avoid it. Keyword being “some”. In reality, she keeps many things close to herself, even out of sight of the few people who earn her trust and earn their way into her mental file of “Close Friends”, and especially out of sight from her family. It can be argued that the only place where you’ll see her true colors is during the most important and critical of situations, where she's the best possible version of herself that she needs to be in those moments: Extremely calculating, quick-thinking and sure of herself, passionate, confident, daring, ruthless to the creatures she battles but gentle, warm and inviting to the egos she protects and cares for. It can be argued that this is her ultimate true self... is it? It’s hard to say. She hides so much of herself out of instinct, and is so unaware of, and confused about, so many of her own strengths and weaknesses after years of abuse, manipulation, harassment and being taken advantage of, calling any of her dispositions and demeanors her “True self” isn’t quite 100% truthful. It’s more accurate to say that all of these different “sides” of her contain separate fragments of her true identity that she’s still struggling to piece together. She often-times struggles with her mental health and sense of self-image and self-identity. Despite her outward behavior, she is a deceptively sensitive and battered soul trying her absolute hardest to maintain a positive attitude, find her own happiness and place of belonging in the world, and not drive anyone (else) away with her challenges and sensitivities. Strengths: - Physically strong, dextrous with her hands. - Durable; has a strong immune system and has a high pain tolerance. [Even if she bleeds a lot, bruises like a banana, and overall is very frail and gets hurt easily, she tends to handwave it with 'it's just pain' and do what she has to regardless.] - Very little sense of smell; resistance/immunity to Plutarkian odors and the Lougie brothers. - Generally mature, rational and logical, tries her hardest to be fair and reasonable. - Good with computers, fast typer. - Is an excellent singer. - Creative and imaginative. - Determined and persevering, never gives up. - Hard worker, dedicated - Kindhearted, compassionate and loving. Can be a very calming presence. - Very Intelligent, Very calculating and Has an unwitting knack for strategy. Has an IQ of 138. - Courageous; despite her open timidity, she with brave through anything she has to. - Confident and proud of her capabilities. - Empathetic and thoughtful of others. - Quick-witted and Sassy; has a sharp sense of humor and can laugh at herself. - Can be very goofy and childlike, connecting very well with smaller children. - Loyal and steadfast. - Is generally very good about owning up to her own mistakes and always strives to improve and do better. - Can be timid, but when it comes down to the wire, she’s very courageous, daring and willing to face her fears... eventually. Weaknesses: - Physically frail. - Lacks stamina in the real world. - Visually impaired and has difficulty processing sound. - Is not fast, flexible or agile. At all. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping her alive half the time. - Is on the Autism Spectrum. Suffers from executive dysfunction, memory problems, sensory processing problems, and difficulties in social situations. - Suffers from an anxiety-panic disorder, acute PTSD, and depression, and is not medicated for any of it. Struggles with self-esteem, self-worth, and self-image issues as a result, occasionally experiences suicidal thoughts. - Though she has a lot of patience, her anger can reach explosive, black-out levels when it reaches its boiling point. - Stimming, autistic meltdowns and depressive episodes can be physically harmful to her. - Very disorganized; has trouble maintaining a schedule or keeping track of time. - Can be stubborn and bullheaded. - Can be snide and sarcastic. - Struggles with self-advocacy. She tends to pendulum swing between "silent doormat" and "on a bloody, angry war-path of 'I deserve better'". - Heavily sheltered and repressed, can be very naive. - Can be very emotionally and mentally sensitive. - Easily flustered. - Can sometimes be a little obnoxious in her humor. - Though polite by default, can struggle with maintaining her manners. Family: - Forrest Beaumont [Father, 47] - Amelia Beaumont (nee Lexington) [Mother, 49] - Logan Beaumont [Older Brother, 26]  - Natasha Beumont [Sister-In-Law, 28] - Grace Beumont [Older Sister, 26] - Arthur Beaumont [Younger Brother, 18] - Daniel(le) "Danny" Beaumont [Younger Sibling, 15] A very large extended family Friends: [Verse-Dependant, UT by Default] - Frisk [Companion, 6] - Sans [Close Friend/Love Interest] - Undyne [Best Friend] - Alphys [Best Friend] - Papyrus [Best Friend] - Mettaton [Good Friend] - Bliss [Good Friend] Other Relationships: [Verse-Dependant, UT by Default] - Wing-Ding [Enemy] - Gaster [Future Father-in-Law] - Flowey [Enemy] - King Asgore Dreemurr [Close Friend] - Toriel [Mother Figure] Noteworthy Interests: Likes...  - Writing [Songs, Short Stories, Poetry, Personal Essays]  - Children  - Animals - Horseback Riding  - Cooking/Baking  - Reading...      - Fantasy      - Mystery      - Action/Romance  - Music      - Soft Rock      - Pop      - Country  - Movies      - Cartoons/Animation      - Comedy      - Action-Adventure  - Weather Watching [Namely rain]  - Dream Walking [Especially Tending to the Dream Pearls]  - Games      - Video games [RPGs, Time Management, Platformers]      - Card Games  - Collecting things [Rocks, feathers, leaves, small things]  - Paranormal/Ghost Stories [Just not at night]  - Stimming Dislikes/Fears...  - Loud Noises      - Being Yelled At [PTSD Trigger]  - The Dark  - Scratchy, constricting clothing  - Slimy, oily or greasy textures  - Extreme hot or cold  - Sharp Objects [Needles]  - Being grabbed without warning [PTSD Trigger]  - Slasher films  - Alcohol [Drinking it or anyone else drinking it.]  - Being Cornered/Trapped without an escape [PTSD Trigger]  - Condescending/Patronizing attitudes  - Cleaning Passions and Hobbies  - Writing  - Drawing [Sketching, coloring]  - Video Games  - Cooking and Baking  - Dream Walking History: WIP because her story is a massive beast that requires time and patience to conquer. Her history is EXTREMELY complicated, so... Boyo, this is gonna take a lot more time to sort out. Miscellaneous: - She has an iron immune system except for strawberries and raspberries. These are literally the only things she's allergic to and despite the reactions not being "bad but not life-threatening, she'll openly hiss at them and keep her distance with the fruit by about 10 feet. - She adores blue and purple and usually dons them as her signature colors, but also loves shades of pink and yellow too. - Though she has a cat to make her feel secure at night, she still sleeps with her childhood stuffed dog, and takes it with her whenever she's sleeping over at someone else's house. She has a collection of other stuffed animals in her closet at home and she refuses to give any of them up. - She normally speaks casually with an expansive vocabulary and with a very slight Southern accent, but can sometimes speak in abbreviations and purposefully exaggerate her Southern accent when she's mad, freaked out, or just trying to be funny. - Her telekinesis has a soft purple hue to its glow. - Her sense of style and taste in clothing changes like the seasons and dresses very impulsively on a day-to-day basis, and can rarely plan her outfits ahead of time because of tactile sensitivity. That combined with her size makes her very hard to shop for, and she has a tendancy to wear the same outfit multiple days in a row. - Because of the experiments she endured, she has a heightened sense for people's emotional imbalances or current emotional state and has a sixth sense for connections between people's behavior and activity inside Lucidus. Without her glasses on, she can see the state of people's egos inside people's reflections. - She hates the feeling of make-up on her face as it feels sticky and gross, and tends to only be able to tolerate concealer and blush. Now that's not to say she's completely anti-make-up. She loves how she looks with make-up on but it always feels gross to put on and wear. Give her make-up that doesn't feel gross to apply and wear and she's all over that. - She absolutely loves to stim with her body and has a habit of flapping or flailing her hands, or rocking back and forth or side-to-side. She also has a habit of tactile stimming by touching surfaces she finds herself drawn to; her hands are most often on a wall, a sofa cushion, or someone's clothes. [Will add more details as I think of them.]

[docholligay]

Twice Baked

@rhiorhino‘s commission request for this month was “Mako teaching the kids to bake” This is set within my Au of Mystery and Shadow, which I don’t publish to the main blog very often because it’s sort of dear to my heart. But this is 2010 words, and I hope you all enjoy it. You can find more of my writing at my Patreon! Thank you so much for your support. 

“Kimi, you don’t need to be afraid. It’s just Aunt Mako.” Haruka tried to coax her forward.

Kimi shyly peeked out from behind Haruka’s chair, and Mako knelt down to her level.

“Yeah! We’re gonna have a lot of fun today!” She grinned at Kimi, who smiled back softly.

Haruka pulled a bag off the back of her chair. “All her asthma medication is in there, she should be fine, but just in case, you know, if something smokes or--”

“Haruka, I got it.”

“And if you need me, I’ll keep my cell phone on me. I won’t be more than a  few hours, but if you can’t get ahold of me, Michiru’s at--”

“Haruka.” Mako looked up from her spot on the floor and gently placed her hand on Haruka’s knee. “I got it.”

MA sprung onto Mako’s back, hugging her tightly and nearly knocking her into Haruka. “I want to make a cake!”

“Well then,” she patted MA’s hand, “a cake you shall have.”

Haruka sighed and nodded, “Thanks for watching them, Mako, I just can’t reschedule this appointment and my doctor’s on my ass, which means Michiru’s on my ass, which means Rei’s on my ass, which Mina loves.”

“Your ass gets ridden a lot for you being on it all the time.” Her eyes sparkled at the joke.

Haruka gave a loud laugh. “I’m super inspirational that way. Anyway, Kimi--”

Mako picked MA up and closed her eyes. “Haruka. I’m not gonna let anything happen to your kids.”

“You need to chill out, Papa.” MA nodded

Haruka looked up her, balanced on Mako’s hip. “Someone needs to spend less time with her Aunt Mina, I think.” she reached behind her chair and took Kimi’s hand, leading her into the light. “Come here, tater tot, it’s okay.” She kissed the top of her head. “You and Aunt Mako are gonna make something for me and Mama! Won't that be fun? I know you’ll do a really great job.”

There were times that Mako could hardly believe the woman in front of her, gently encouraging a shy toddler, had once been the most loud, annoying bully her mind could have conjured. She had heard it said, by Mina, mostly, that people could change, and Haruka was better than Mako gave her credit for. Despite Mina’s best effort, it was really only after everything--the final battle, the long recovery for all of them, and, mostly, the birth of her children--that Mako had seen a difference in Haruka.

Allowed herself to see a difference, someone who was not Mako might say.

“I have something very special for you two, you know.” She set MA down on the ground, “As my apprentices.”

“And Papa’s gotta run. Come here.” She gave them both a kiss and a hug. “Be good for Aunt Mako.”

MA did not even wait for her Papa to leave, springboarding toward the back of Mako’s bakery, shouting about sprinkles and frosting and what she wanted to draw on the cake for her parents. Kimi tenderly held Mako’s hand, a frown on her face as she watched her Papa leave, her eyes never drifting from the door until she rolled down the sidewalk and out of sight.

“Kimi, should we go back to the kitchen?” She squeezed her hand. “I think your sister’s waiting.”

As if on cue, a frustrated call came from the kitchen. “AUNT MAKO, COME OOOOONNNNNNNN.”

Kimi nodded pensively and walked back to the kitchen, never letting go of Mako’s hand. She led her over to the closet, and pulled out two small aprons and chef’s hats, that she had embroidered with their names.

She winked. “For my important pâtissiers.”

MA tried to form the word. “Patis-yay.”

Mako nodded. “It’s French, for very important pastry chefs.”

“Oh.” MA reconsidered, and her mouth reformed around the word. “Pâtissiers.”  Her French pronunciation was flawless, and Mako realized she should have known it would be.

Kimi clumsily pulled the apron over her head, and Mako tied it behind her back.

“Now,” Mako put her hands on her hips, “What do we want to make today?”

“A cake!” MA insisted, seemingly insulted that her previous request had not been immediately noted and attended to.

“What kind do you want to make, Kimi?”

“Coconut!” MA hollered.

Mako shook her head. “You got to pick what we make, so Kimi gets to pick what kind.”

“Coconut,” MA whispered at Kimi, “Pick coconut.”

Kimi almost whispered. “Papa likes chocolate.”

MA sighed audibly.

“Well then, let’s make a chocolate cake for your Papa.” Mako hauled each of them up onto stepstools.

“How come your counters are so high?” MA looked down skeptically.

“The ones at your house are just short, honey.” Mako called over her shoulder as she gathered the ingredients for her double chocolate fudge cake, a recipe she had refined over the years and that she happened to know Haruka adored.

MA shook her head. “I don’t know about that.”

Mako laughed and set a mixing bowl in front of the two girls. “Okay, now, what’s the first thing we do when we’re making a cake?”

Kimi looked over at MA, who thought for a moment, her hand held to her chin like some sort of elderly professor. “We sift our dry ingredients.” She sounded out every word carefully.

“Of course we do!” She handed the sifter to Kimi. “Why don’t you help me with that?”

They worked together, Mako even letting MA break the eggs into the mix, with a minimum of shells into the batter, she was proud to note. The girls got a bit covered with the batter, but Mako figured they would wash well enough, and Kimi had even started to relax and giggle, perhaps realizing that Aunt Mako’s bakery was the same safe place it has always been, whether or not one of her parents was there with her.

Mako slipped the cake, divided into two pans, into the oven.

“Now can we do frosting??” MA nearly jumped off her stepstool.

“Frosting!” Kimi clapped in appreciation.

“Do we want chocolate frosting too?” Mako did not wait for a response, but began to get the cocoa powder.

“I think,” MA said declaratively, looking at her sister, “That we should pick something Mama likes, since Papa got the cake. I think that’s more fairer.”

Kimi nodded in approval at this very spirit of compromise, and MA continued to think.

“Mama likes pretty things. Nice things.” She rubbed her hands together, her tongue sticking just out of the edge of her mouth. “What something nice, Aunt Mako.”

Mako set down the cocoa powder and leaned against the counter. “Your Mom likes what we’d call complex flavors, in baking. Have either of you ever had floral flavors?” It was strange, to her, to realize that she was at an age and a place now where she did, in fact, both know and care what Michiru liked. She’d made their anniversary cake.

“Mm-hmm!” MA almost compulsively raised her hand. “Mama and I got gelato and she got violet and she let me try it and it was good and she said violet’s a flower.”

“She’s right. Good job.” She walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a small bottle. “But you know what I think goes better with chocolate, is rose.”

“Mama likes roses!” Kimi piped up, almost startling herself with the loudness of her voice.

Mako whipped a little rose oil into some dark chocolate frosting. “Here.” She stuck a bit on two spoons. “Try it.”

MA licked the spoon thoughtfully. “It’s good!”

Kimi scowled at her spoon. “Gross.” she looked up at Mako and frowned, afraid she’d hurt Mako’s feelings. “NO it’s good.”

Mako laughed appreciatively. “It’s okay, Kimi,” she whispered in her ear, “I think it tastes like perfume.”

Kimi giggled, covering her face with her hand, transferring a new dot of batter to her cheek.

Mako brought over the ingredients for the frosting, with two bowls and whisks. “We’ll decorate it, too, and your Papa and Mama will love it.” She rolled a bit of gumpaste in her hands, pressing out a petal nimbly. “Do we want to put a rose on top, for your Mama?”

MA nodded seriously, mixing her frosting. “It has to be really beautiful though, like Mama. Mama’s like a rose,” she looked over at Mako as if she were offering rich philosophical advice. “Papa says all women are like flowers, cause they’re beautiful and different.”

Mako chuckled. “Glad to see she hasn’t given up being the most dramatic human alive.”

“Huh?” MA looked over at her.

She shook her head. “Nothing. What kind of flower are you?” She pressed together two of the petals, the rose beginning to form.

“I’m a….lily!”

“What about you, Kimi?” She dusted the edge of the flower with pearl dust.

Kimi stirred her frosting quietly, mulling the idea over in her head.

“Kimi can’t be a flower, she’s allergic.” MA said without hesitation.

Kimi nodded, disappointed but resigned, trying to work out the lumps in her frosting.

“Now, that’s not true,” Mako touched her shoulder, “Kimi, you can be a sugar flower, like this,” she held the delicate bloom aloft, “isn’t it pretty?”

Kimi smiled brightly, and nodded at her.

“Now, what would your Papa be? I’ll make that, to go with the rose.”

MA licked her frosting spoon. “Probably a dandelion or something.”

Mako laughed, but obediently picked up the yellow food coloring.

__

The cake looked lovely in the box, Mako having smoothed over any errant fingerprints left on it, as the girls went to hang up their aprons, having been promised they could use them again, the next time they helped Mako bake.

The bell to the door rang, and Kimi and MA hurried to it.

“Hey, my girls!” She ruffled their hair “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“None at all. I’ll watch them anytime.” She tucked a few of her famous sugar cookies into Haruka’s bag and handed it to her. And it was true--Mako had always loved children, but to have two little girls call her Aunt Mako and trust her and love her felt like something special, and she always delighted in their moments together. “They’re kind of a mess, though.” She handed Haruka a dampened washcloth.

Haruka took the washcloth and drew Kimi into her lap. “Thanks so much for looking after them.” Haruka wiped at Kimi’s face with a washcloth while she scowled and squirmed.

“Are you still alive?”

“Yeah, doctor says I still have a heartbeat.” She handed back the washcloth, covered in batter and frosting. “How did you even manage this, tater tot? You have super powers or something.”

“Better luck next time.” She took the soiled washcloth from Haruka. “Want to see what the girls made for you and Michiru?”

“Papa, we did good!” Kimi clapped her hands together.

“They did,” Mako beamed, “They’re the best assistants I’ve ever had. I better watch out, they’ll own their own place someday.”

MA helped Mako bring over the pink box, and they slowly opened it in front of Haruka.

“I am gonna eat that right now.” Haruka stared at the glossy frosting.

Mako chuckled. “Sure, Michiru’ll love that.”

“Technically it’s her fault for providing the backing for this place.”

“Let me be there when you use that excuse for eating an entire cake in one sitting.”

MA closed the box. “Papa, you have to share with Mama.”she said gravely.

“Okay, okay,” she set Kimi down, “You’re right,” she gently placed the box on her lap, “We’ll take it home to Mama. Grab your coats, grunions.”

The girls obediently put on their coats and hats, waving goodbye to Mako as they headed out the door, Haruka shooing them quietly home.

Kimi paused and ran back toward Mako and embraced her tightly, before turning around and running back to the door, just as quickly.

“Bye, Aunt Mako! I love you!” she waved.

There was something to be said for a second chance.