#God what I would give for another line with Camilla

[ghostinacardboardbox]

I just finished relistening to the Camilla Wester line and I just. LOVE her dynamic with Andrel.

Andrel is in a weird position most of the time because because she is a blue collar employee in a high risk job trying to pay off debts and educate herself (via dictionary), so she very much cannot be treated like a normal child. It would feel incredibly condescending to her and would minimize her accomplishments. But also she still IS a child and that has to be acknowledged. There’s a fine line between providing her the guidance she needs and treating her like she’s incompetent. And a lot of the characters try really hard to find that balance, but it seems to come just so naturally to Camilla.

Like they very much work side by side as equals but also Camilla is giving Andrel cute little nicknames and telling her she does a good job and then gets incredibly pissed when Andrel’s response is “thank you, I’m not appreciated enough.” She encourages Andrel to weaponize her youth to get Drix and Pip to buy her shit. Camilla never forgets that Andrel is just a kid but she also doesn’t treat Andrel like a baby.

[curtwilde]

Henry vs Julian

I have been thinking about this a lot. While Henry clearly admires and models his scholar self on Julian, their essential difference is in how they perceive the Ancient Greeks.

Julian's interest in the Ancient Greeks is true interest, he admires their high and exalted values. For him, the Greeks were the highest point of human civilization, and the closer he comes to his own time the more his disdain increases - the Roman Catholic Church he holds in contempt but it's still a 'worthy enemy' not as bad as the Presbyterian Church. It isn't mentioned but he must hold modernism and it's philosophy with disdain - modernist moral vacousness being a direct contradiction of the idealist values loyalty, honor, chastity etc. that were so exalted by the Greeks. Which is why he is always cherry picks, sees only what he wants to see, and invents what he can't - both for himself (his ambiguous involvement with the Isrami government) or for his students (encouraging Richard to lie about his life in California). Since he can't time travel back to Greece himself, he must try to live that life as much as he can and believe himself a character in a Greek play. But it comes, not from a place of wanting to escape his current reality, but true admiration of the ancient Greek way of seeing and doing things.

Henry is a true modernist. The monologue about feeling dead is central to his understanding his character:

Maybe it stems from his near death experience but he sees the world as inherently meaningless, God is dead and heaven and hell have been revealed to be man-made constructs, there is no punishment for evil and since there is no moral line. I think he subconsciously realised all of this before coming to Hampden, but to truly accept it would have been soul-crushing. So he tries to escape it by immersing himself in the Greeks, I imagine the absolutist values, vague representational ideas pertaining to each god might have interested him but really, it could have been anything else, the Medieval Age or the Victorians, anything. He just needed something to be obsessed with, to give meaning to his existence which he subconsciously knew to be meaningless. So is his adoration of Julian, he admired and wanted Julian's ability to almost half-live in another time when, in his view, things mattered more (we have divinity in our midst). It also explains the Bacchanal which is otherwise so out of character for him. The appeal was to escape the soul crushing knowledge of meaninglessness - even if for a while. To worship and call on Dinosiyus with the blind belief of the Ancient Greeks, a kind of belief that simply cannot exist anymore in the postmodern, post-Neitzche world. His harebrained plans also came from the same impulse, including the poison plan, and the one way ticket to Argentina.

I suspect that what subconsciously drove him to murder bunny, aside from the obvious fear of getting caught - is the same thing that drove Mersault to murder the Arab - it's the old existentialist question, if good and bad are relative and there is no punishment for evil, how far can one go? Bunny's murder was Henry's existentialist experiment with himself. And, I think in a way it confirmed for him what he already knew, they escaped unscathed and he didn't feel any of the fear or remorse he expected to feel. While it did give him the momentary sense of power, the feeling that he could now do whatever he wanted if he can be clever enough to not get caught, since he won't be punished for it otherwise. While it gave him enough courage to go get the girl he always wanted - it did confirm for him the inherent meaninglessness of the world. Also, conversely, Camilla could have been another experiment - something must matter, was it love? Camilla was the only girl he knew and he was fond of her - he may not even have thought of her romantically before considering he never cared to act on it in all the time he had known her. But either way, Julian's abandonment broke him.

Coming back to Julian, Julian's abandonment omakes perfect sense to me - he was disgusted by the modernist moral vacousness in his students. He himself was a moral man, but his morals operated on his own standards. He based it on the Greek sense of Honour, not the more modern sense of Justice. His basic instinct was the preservation of his own purity - he couldn't possibly keep on as their teacher. But also, to turn them in would be against his sense of honour - he must have very little respect for the police and law enforcement as institutions being the kind of person he is. Not to mention it would mean his having to be in frequent contact with the police and court. From his point of view atleast, leaving is the only thing he could have done, really.

For Henry however, he sees that his obsession with the Greeks as well as his admiration for Julian as the sham that it really was, is disillusioned with the world, shattered. Except for his fondness for Camilla he didn't really have anyone he loved, he saw his friends as pawns, wasn't close to his family, didn't have any goals in life with everything in his reach with his father's money - the only person he had really loved was Julian, and there he was betrayed. His obsession with the ancient Greeks was also thus tainted with Julian's betrayal - since it wasn't true interest at all, only a disguised attempt at escapism - it wavered and fell apart, and he didn't have a reason to live anymore.

.

Side note : Richard falls between the two. Like Julian, he had a real interest in the ancient Greeks, but he didn't put them on a pedestal like Julian did. He realised that like his own time, and like all other times in history the Greek civilization too had its own good and bad aspects, and he wanted to learn about it for its own sake. But he doesn't make it his life, or use it to escape his own reality - outside of his classes he was very much rooted in his own time.

[beedreamscape]

One thing I love about the locked tomb, that Tamsyn was a genius for, is how you simply can't predict what is coming next.

Who would've thought, after reading GTN even with *that ending* that our golden girl Gideon would only show up for the last ten percent of the next book?

Who could've predicted Harrow giving herself a lobotomy and fantasizing an alternate reality?

Who would've called it that the lyctors of old would be three bitter scraps?

Who in their right mind would theorize Gideon as god's daughter conceived from a lyctor scheme to open the tomb??

Dios Apate Minor??? Hello???

Who correctly guessed that the Emperor Undying's name would be John.

And with all the new info from HTN it gets easier, right?

WRONG.

Camilla Hect sharing a body with Palamedes, a brand new character who is a milf in the body of the guy request to kill/test Harrow, Harrowhark but not really possessed by The Body who is also a baby are our new protagonists and they're playing house.

Also... where the fuck are we? What- The dog has how many legs!?

In between that John is podcasting his descent into madness and corruption AND YOU WOMT GUESS WHO HE BASED ALECTO ON. Also he's a streamer, cowhater, and likes coke zero.

Prepare yourself also for Chussy, Friendship Bracelets, another betraying duplicitous slut, John's depressed hoe era, Sarpedon booty call, Get in line thou big slut, etc, etc.

And what here could've prepared us for The Unwanted Guest??? Huh? "Theater of the mind you say? DULCINEA?? French Maid Ianthe???"

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

Who is Nona?

Plot/Characters

<< Previous: Plot Predictions | Masterpost

-

From what I've seen, I'm certain she's the girl from the epilogue. The last line in HtN's epilogue suggests that they don't know who she is. Does anyone? I assume the three who live with her are Camilla, Corona and Judith. Did they "escape" the Blood of Eden? Did Eden give them a charge? Decided they were trustworthy enough to look after a questionably powerful girl? woman?

A peek at the cover reveals a confidently smiling girl or young woman, with a long (red?) hair in a plait, not particularly buff but also not particularly pallid. The epilogue already is set in a much more familiar environment, quite the contrast to our previous settings - Ninth House, Canaan House, Erebos, Mithraeum, The River. Here, in the epilogue, there are cars, hot afternoon heat, apartment vibes; they have sausages at the local food place, one of them goes to work. There are obviously many people around, but also a war of some kind. Maybe this isn't the Sixth after all - mentions of a planet in the sky, so on a moon?

And who is Nona? Her hair looks red and the hinted-at powers make me go a bit wild with theories. Here's some of them, in no particular order.

1. Gideon. She's strong, red-haired, and confident. I rate this extremely unlikely, as Gideon is still a corpse. Unless they found a way to pluck her soul out of Harrow's body and make her lose all her memories, (theoretically possible, but... why?) I just don't see this one. Would her hair have grown that much in a short time? Did it grow while her body lay undecomposing? Still dead, though, and dead hair doesn't grow. Even if they alived her again somehow - or did a revenant move in? - six months after the Emperor's murder is when the Epilogue is set; it can't have been much more than that in time. Not long enough to grow a waist-long braid's worth of hair. (Unless there was necromancy involved of similar type as what Ianthe did to make Harrow's hair grow faster.) It all just seems like so much effort, and for what? No, I don't think this one is very likely.

2. Wake had another child?

2.a. Gideon's twin? She realised she was having twins (or somehow manipulated the process in order to have twins) and decided to leave one baby behind - with Gideon the First, or the Blood of Eden, or just adrift hoping someone would find her?

2.b. Gideon's sibling? Wake had another child before Gideon, perhaps actually Pyrrha's/Gideon the First's?

2.c. Gideon's clone? Somehow managed to clone baby Gideon from material taken within the first hours of her life and got Eden to grow another baby from the genetic material somehow?

3. Another one of God's children - perhaps there was some "sample" left and someone from Eden decided to just. Yknow. Grow another baby to have a "backup" of sorts?

4. Alecto's child? It's questionable whether Alecto could have reproduced with humans - Mercy says it's questionable whether she even had genetic code - but what if she could reproduce, and somehow got wind of the plan to lock her away, so managed to somehow get some genetic material saved outside the tomb, and for some reason it's taken all this time to grow a child from it?

5. Actually Alecto, somehow??? (Rated unlikely.)

6. A random revenant who moved into Gideon's body somehow, and doesn't know who they are, and for some reason the hair's just very long now? (Doubt it.)

7. Some poor random girl with memory issues who they just happened to picked up??? (Also unlikely.)

So yeah, I cannot tell you which one of these is actually the most likely to be it. I have been very disciplined in not reading the blurbs or summaries or feedback found on and in Nona the Ninth, so I can go in with as little information as possible.

It is very likely that Nona is important somehow, though, which is why I doubt she's just some random girl. She looks like she could be about Gideon and Harrow's age.

I'm very excited to find out more.

>> Next: Starting my Nona the Ninth liveblog!

[ohyoufool]

Writing Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Tagged by: @doggernaut and @montrealmadison my besties!!! I am so touched!!!!! and aren't we lucky that I just hit 10 posted fics?? And because I can't stop yapping, I put a little note about each of them.

austin (check, please!, bitty/jack)

"Jack comes to Georgia like a summer thunderstorm."

(this one is alternately titled 'I went through a lot of breakups last year and got into country line dancing and it shows')

call of the champions (check, please!, lardo/camilla)

"It’s Lardo and her board."

(THE FUCKING FIC. I AM SO PROUD OF HER. and also I bought a sick salt late city 2002 olympics leather jacket because of it and it's basically my whole personality)

creation myth (check, please!, bitty/jack)

"It goes like this."

(this is me and @montrealmadison's magnum opus, and I learned how to bind books just to immortalize it)

sloshed with gold (check, please!, bitty/jack)

"Jack’s phone starts ringing halfway through his Tuesday morning jog."

(if you like nhl!bitty and photographer!jack, she's your jam. not sure if I will ever like the way I wrote this one but eyyyyyy it exists)

rocket man (voltron, keith/lance)

"The fireflies were flickering above Keith’s dark hair to light the path. He stood on the porch as Lance looked out from the doorway. There was a moment of silence. “You will help me keep him here this time, won’t you?” he asked."

(I won't apologize for voltron. I am too far past the shame. i wrote a paper on voltron queerbaiting and it got me into college. I owe her everything.)

season of the witch (check, please!, bitty/jack)

"Sometimes, Bitty gets carried away with baking."

(um fun fact there's apparently been a typo in the first line of this one for the last THREE YEARS ?????? its fixed now but dear god. I would delete this if it didn't have the second most hits of any check please fic i've written. I cant reread it it makes me want to die.)

don't waste another mile or minute (not kissing me) (voltron, keith/lance)

"Light. An unusual amount of light. Keith throws his elbow over his face as he peels his eyes open, wincing as the sun blasts through an open window."

(an OLD banger that I wrote at my first internship because it was so boring. some clever lines but my writing has improved tenfold since 2018)

and all I can taste is this moment (voltron, adam/shiro)

"There is absolutely nothing like flying, Takashi Shirogane, sixteen, almost-professional pilot, assumes. He assumes because he hasn’t been allowed to fly (yet), but if the simulator gives him any idea of what flight is like, Shiro is going to be hungry for it for the rest of his life."

(my magnum opus before creation myth, and the longest thing I've ever written (48k). yall ever yolo on a rarepair and write a biblically accurate cold war fic? no? just me? ok.)

last sunrise in the wasteland (voltron, keith/lance)

"The first time that Keith kisses Lance, the sky is the color of cotton candy. "

(this is my fic with the most hits which is great except there's a softcore porn scene in it I forgot about and subsequently subjected my grandpa to when he was reading it and making edits for me. so now it makes me want to die a little thinking about that. no he never brought it up.)

In my veins (carry on, baz/simon)

"On the worst day, Baz wakes up in Simon’s arms, the cursed tattoo glaring at him in the morning sunshine. Simon is still passed out, body curled into Baz, chestnut curls bouncing with each heady breath. The mark bitten onto his neck from the night before flashing like a highway sign on his neck."

(once someone bookmarked this with the tag 'out of character' and it has haunted me every single fucking day since I read that. WHY DID THEY BOOKMARK IT IF THEY DIDN'T LIKE IT. sorry it drives me crazy. I DONT UNDERSTAND.)

Tagging (no pressure, and anyone else can also jump in!): @justlookfrightened @bittysthesis @chaoskiro @zimbits-my-love @parseisflat @a-very-gay-disaster @dessertwaffles

[akajustmerry]

I know it’s probs stupid to be angry at an adaptation but like. I was hoping the show would give Camila & Simone more to do, hasn’t done that! Then, then they have Billy kiss her to sing that song better when the Whole Point of the book is he never acts on whatever feelings he may or may not have. That’s a big thing to change! I’m not totally mad about them implying Camila might have done something w Eddie cause at least that gives her something to do but it’s just lots of annoying changes

UGH SAM. the people who adapted this show, not only can they literally not read, they're so fucking boring about it. the whole point of djats is unreliable narration, reading these people's recounts and deciding for yourself what's true.

the ambiguity of billydaisy is what makes it such a thrilling read because it's not will they/won't they as much as it is are they/aren't they and you as the reader never really get a clean answer. and yeah you're right!!! a huge part of that ambiguity is Billy making a point to never act on those feelings because he knows he can't. he never denies them but he knows he can't act on them because of Camilla and because he knows he and Daisy are both addicts.

I'll get to Cam in a second, but I truly hate Billy kissing her and claiming it was for the song in the show because book!Billy would NEVER do something so callous. I feel like when he rejects daisy in the book it's heartbreaking and tragic but not cruel and I hate that choice. I'm not Billy Dunnes biggest fan but I'm enraged the writers of this show think he'd do that shit to Daisy. He wouldn't.

Camilla, God... The whole thing of Camilla is that she's too good for Billy. Like that's why the man has a complex because he knows he doesn't deserve her because she's better than him. And yeah it sucks in the book she doesn't have anything to do, but that's kind of the point. I can tell the show thinks it's being clever, with the whole Eddie thing, as if it's somehow feminism girlboss to be like "actually women cheat too #equality" but that's NOT THE POINT OF CAMILLA. the point is that she is this patient kind loving wife that Billy doesn't deserve and that's whyyyyyy he never acts on his feelings for daisy why he doesn't even TOUCH HER!!!! because Camilla is waiting for him!!

This bullshit they've done in the show fundamentally changes so many things that make the book really fun and just makes it very boring because it's taken the thrill out of reading between the lines and guessing. I mean......was this kiss hot as fuck? Yeah. But we're talking about characters who, in the book, keep a mental tally of when they last casually touched one another!!! and in this episode they were making out and dancing and ughhhh. It's so silly, the book is literally a transcript they had one JOB.

[versegm]

Yooo how about Director's Cut on The One from Carcossa? Give me the downlow on awkward shadow roommate and hand licking lol

I SWEAR I DIDN'T REALIZE I WROTE SO MUCH HAND LICKING

God. This might get kinda long, lemme add a readmore right away.

As you can guess from the title, I wrote this after going insane over The King In Yellow for a couple weeks or so. Unfortunately I have since actually read the king in yellow and they're not nearly as good as the five wikipedia pages I dived through made it sound, but it was still a very fun time to write.

It was also very much inspired by the general concept of "the monster under your bed." You guys have that too right? Like, children's urban legends or whatever?

It's also a pretty old story, I think I wrote it in 2020-ish? But I think it still hold up well.

The monster in the story is named Cahors, which is the name of a french town. I picked that name because the King In Yellow has a running theme of characters with names starting in Ca- (Cassilda, Camilla) and I wanted to keep it going. The human is named Neha, after a friend I had at the time I wrote that story (Neha, if you're reading this somehow, hi! Hope you're doing well! :D) Neha also has a blink and you'll miss it cameo in May The Moon Shine Upon Camlann, as a treat. To myself.

Carcosa's writing system is based on qipus btw.

About ten years ago or so I followed writingprompt dot tumblr dot com, and one of the prompt was thus: the apocalypse happens, you are the last survivor, and one day you find a message that reads "last one up turns off the light," with no other purpose to your life, you decide to do that. For some reason, it struck me.

I don't actually remember for sure, but I think my reasoning behind that bit was to showcase why Cahors affectionates post-apoc stories specifically. It's their way to cope with the fact that their world ended.

Ok so this story was originally meant to be erotica, and this would be the big sexy showdown, but I found it flowed better without the sex. This is actually a recurring issue with my writing when I set off to write porn. It is unfortunate.

LOOK I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU. THAT WAS THE FATEST WAY I COULD THINK OF TO LINK INTIMACY, TRUST, AND REALLY HAMMER HOME THAT CAHORS DOES NOT LOOK OR FEEL HUMAN.

Very largely inspired by this piece of art that lives rent-free in my head.

I'm just really proud of this bit :)

I really wanted to do a callback to that one other scene in the middle of the story. I'm glad I pulled it off!

The story initially had another line about Cahors using their mask to extinguish the lights, but multiple people told me they thought it was confusing, so I removed it. It works better this way I think.

And there you go! Mostly it was me fucking around with worldbuilding and monster biology as you can guess.

[empty-pizza]

thoughts on harrow the ninth chapter twenty-one

NOOOOO, NOT PALAMEDES AND CAMILLA!

is what i would have said, if i didn't know that in the real world palamedes already died like a simp and camilla is out there somewhere being awesome

Still, wise writing decision to kill them off here; they stole the show enough last time, so we can give other characters some shine now, like Abigail.

Hmm. Strange. In this version, they only had one old rapier for Camilla. I dunno if all these subtle differences are meant to build to something clever, or if they're just tonal hints that something is wrong.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised; if things are different in this fake timeline, then we might have the real Dulcinea and the living Protesilaus (god I have to remember how to spell that fucking name again?). Not sure how much we'll get out of them, but why not.

"The last time I attacked a box I couldn't open, it was my birthday and my wife had tied the ribbon too tightly." is such an iconic wife guy line I love it

This is the second time someone has innocently asked "Is this how it happens" in a reasonable context, and it's possible that, if this is Harrow's false memories, that's part of Harrow's mind reinforcing the question the Body asked her at the start.

A new note. Made it clear that this is from the killer, although what that means is quite vague. Like, if this weren't a fake timeline, then it'd be very interesting that a message could be sent this way. But if this is just in Harrow's head, then well, it's just one part of her subconscious talking through another part of her subconscious. Is it, within this fake canon, Gideon, though? Like, it seems to hate... well, I'm not sure who it means by "you two mummified wizard shits". The people it just killed, or two people it's threatening? I should probably go reread the prior notes in the context of it being from the killer, but I'm not gonna right now because I'm lazy.

[raven]

I’m not trying to get you crucified here but tbh I would love to hear your locked tomb criticisms and feel validated in mine

So like im not a professional hater for it bc i simply didnt like it and i only make well thought out analyses if i enjoy the thing a lot for whatever reason and to me tlt is more of a whimper than a bang. so this isnt the most well thought out & its been a year or maybe 2 since i read it. but lets go. i read the first 2 books & not nona the ninth btw, and i enjoyed gideon for the most part due to I Love Murder Mysteries. but once its no longer a murder mystery(& confined to one location) i felt like the whole thing fell apart. (That being said i will suffer through a LOT for a murder mystery) harrow the ninth was like.. confusing and i know thats the point but it couldnt carry itself well enough. like i like confusing narratives i like nonsense and i like it when it doesnt make sense. but it just like. wasnt.. good? i really cant elaborate without rereading and i dont really want to. Also it was very predictable which, how can u be confusing and predictable, idk, ask harrow the ninth

so like anyways the writing is pretty annoying. i cant say its bad writing because it's competent enough but it's like oh my god you referenced this meme from 2016 tumblr you are SO. FUNNY. like i felt like as soon as i would be like "ok this is real im getting into it" someone would drop the dumbest line in the entire world that was a reference to an outdated meme. (I wish i took notes in my book to give you an example but like... you know exactly what im talking about if you've read any of it lmfao) people are like "gideon is just annoying" and yeah, she really was, but her narration in the first book had much fewer meme references and it was therefore sooo much more tolerable imo. Like harrow was genuinely SO bad for it. but both books i read felt very very juvenile. like people will be like "it is NOT ya" but then why does it feel like ya. like ya isnt just subject matter, i would argue that the defining feature in all the ya i read as a teen was in its tone and style. and tlt totally has a similar tone. in an annoying way. like "oh funny and relatable" but like due to everyone talking like a 17 year old from tumblr.com in the year 2015 it was not like, atmospheric at all. and a lot of harrow the ninth is about The Vibe. And the vibe was not coming across well. it just completely prevented me from feeling like i was in another world in like, any way. and this is a pretty fantastical setting..

and now we move on to the fandom of it all. i saw a really good post a few days ago that i did not reblog or save but it was criticizing how ianthe specifically was written like, intentionally playing into fandom troping and it genuinely shows so hard and it's really annoying. like. ok. so i told my friend that ianthe was just discount nanami from utena. and they were like "that is not true because ianthe is a discount homestuck character, also how dare you say that about nanami." (Idk anything about homestuck so i cant tell you any more there) but isnt that crazy. she is a knock off of many. anyways so like her whole purpose is to i dont know. fuck things up in an incredibly non threatening manner? like she was not necessary but its like Omg #Failgirl! god i wish i could find the post because i am not putting it into words

i also generally found the relationships and characters to be pretty uncompelling. like i didnt really care about gideon and harrow it was like woah they like each other now. wasnt really feelin it. i know a lot of people like it and thats fine though. the characters i liked the best were camilla and palamedes and then they dropped the bomb that palamedes was a heterosexual and i was genuinely so upset. like the man had fag vibes. "Oh he could be bisexual" the thing is that he wasnt though. soooooo. this is like so unimportant but i really did feel very betrayed. bc like gay people exist in the series. and not him..? fuck off

Ok thats all for now good bye if anyone want me to reread the books and take notes and critique for real give me money i would do it and i would be so thorough. but i know i dont do these things often so you cant really trust my analysis skills so thats fine. anyways. yeah. um anon if you have thoughts on the books let me know i love to read them tbh. sorry this post is so long i am on my cell phone and i feel like it doesnt deserve a read more. sorry

[kinghijinx22]

The Owl House Watching and Dreaming review/analysis part 4

Part 4 Titan Luz vs Belos

So Luz returns to the Boling Isles, now with the power of the Titan and a new badass form to go with it. She shows up just in time to save Eda, King and the Collector makes a really cool entrance while exclaiming "I'm back" which then turns into a loss for words as she tries to think of a cooler line to say which is so perfect and fitting for Luz. What I love about this is that even after gaining the power of god and anime she's still remains her true to her funny dorky self and what I also love is this is the thing that helps Eda to realise that it really is Luz. Although Luz's palisman Stringbean was able to sense that it her right away, flying by her side and turning into her staff which was another cute detail. I also love everything about Titan Luz's design, the long curly hair which is definitely what Luz with long hair would look like, the black fur, the horns, the black eyes with yellow pupils, the fang, her keeping the witches hat, literally everything about it is perfect and a detail I appreciate is that she actually looks like a mixture of herself, Eda and King. While she's now part titan, she not only has King's fur and horns but also Eda's fang and eyes. The adopted Owl family now looks like they are all a biological family and there's something beautiful about that.

Luz with her new Titan form along with Eda and King go on to fight off Belos's growing influence while the Collector goes to the archives to help Camilla and kids to rescue everyone who was turned into puppets in the Archives by stopping it from falling. This whole sequence of the Owl family flying across the Boiling Isles and destroying Belos goo is beautiful and where the animation really pops off. The Owl House always looks good but during a lot of action scenes or important story scenes the animation quality will just shoot up and it turns really smooth and always looks amazing. A lot of the scenes with Titan Luz look amazing and the animation exploding just makes it even more special. Something I love about this whole sequence is that even at the end of everything and even though Luz has all this power, Eda still holds her hand tells her to concentrate when she struggles with shooting the Titan magic which shows that Eda will never stop being a loving mentor to Luz. We have King teaching her to use the Titan yell, which feels like how he always wanted to teach her about demons. And then the three of them use Stringbean the palisman staff to draw a giant light glyph in the sky which is also very fitting, light being the first discovered and most important glyph after all. During this entire action scene an epic remix of the intro theme plays, making everything feel even more special and final.

The three of them fly into space and we get a nice view of the Demon Realm which shows us the far away unexplored lands and the other Titan corpses that make up islands like the Boiling Isles. It's a beautiful sight and gives us good idea of the scope of the Demon Realm really is. Luz figures out exactly has happened, that Belos has spread himself across the land with the help if the Titan's heart, and she figures out exactly how to stop it. Luz references what she had learnt from Eda all the way back in The Intruder, the fourth episode of the entire show which is a brilliant call back. In was there that Eda had taught Luz that magic is natural to witches and demons because it comes from bile sack next to their heart. Luz reminds Eda of magic comes from the heart before they all plummet down to the Titan's heart, and I want to add that when they all say "from the heart" it feels like they are saying that both their own magic is coming from the heart and that it's where they need to go to stop Belos. They crash into the Emperor's castle but before they can go into the throne room to confront Belos at the heart, they find Raine Whispers, tied to wall with Belos's goo and loosing their energy. They are missing their glasses, and whispering the iconic tune Raine's Rapsody/Eda's Requiem, the special song that Eda had written and performed for them while they were originally a couple. It's the song that has played during several of their more significant scenes as a couple, and speaking of those moments we can another intimate moment with the two of them here as Eda approaches to rescue them and put their glasses back on their face so they can see her. She pulls Raine off the wall and they embrace as Eda showers them with kisses on their forehead in a scene that's really cute. As well as getting another Luz and Amity kiss scene which we do luckily end up getting two of, another thing that I really wanted from this special was getting a Raine and Eda kiss and while this is closest we get, at least the two officially get back together by end and do get share some nice moments at least.

Now with Titan Luz, Harpy Eda, King and Raine our main heroes go in to finally face Belos in the final battle. To defeat him, Luz must pull him free from the Titan's heart to drain his energy and it's here that the animation pops off even more then it did before. Luz's magic looks beautiful as she draws a spell circle of fire and creates some ice steps to reach Belos, running across the ice using Stringbean to fly up to him. She grabs his ribcage, using the ice steps as leverage and starts pulling as her adopted family protect her from all of the gooey hands that Belos tries using to stop her. Luz is getting to finish Belos of directly, and her family are there to make it fair and it's here that we get one of the powerful scenes of the entire series, literally everything was leading to this. Luz finally gets to be the hero and defeat Belos, and as she does we get a call back to the very scene in the series. Luz's very own version of an important line originally spoken by the heroine of her favourite book series that had inspired her to want to become a witch in the first place. The book series that was given to her by her now late father Manny, the Good Witch Azura.

"Do not underestimate me Belos for I am the Good Witch Luz. Child of the human realm, student of the Demon Realm and Warrior of Peace… NOW EAT THIS SUCKA!" She shouts as she rips him out in the most satisfying and beautifully animated way possible. A great detail about this scene is that not only is it a well built up and sincere call back to a now iconic line, but it also feels like Luz has really found herself after everything she's been through and is reasserting this, her identity.

After the defeat of Belos we see his goo that had spread across the land disappear and his kaiju self turning to stone before also disintegrating, ironic karma given Belos's abuse of the petrification spell to punish wild witches. Belos himself fascinatingly turns back not just into his human self, but his old self from hundreds of years ago. And so Luz comes face to face with Belos's pathetic 16th century puritan self. Even to his very end he's just as manipulative and conniving as he always has been to his very core as he attempts to make one last desperate attempt to appeal Luz's kindness and what makes this scene so glorious is that she doesn't buy any of it. Everything that spews forth from his mouth is just more lies, that is until the acid rain comes down and begins to melt him down to his goo form again. Physically and metaphorically his mask is removed and his dissolves into threatening that Luz will become "just as evil as those witches." Just as you think he's going to have a slither of self awareness in to his vileness in saying that Luz will end up like him, even in his dying breathes he refuses understand reality and blames all of his problems on the minorities that he has chosen to oppress. Luz decides to step away, letting him burn in the rain and rejecting his toxic ideology before her family- Eda, King and Raine step in to finish him off by giving the remaining bits of a him a good stomping, finally finishing off the dictator once and for all.

What I love about Belos's death is the significance of it and what it means to the story. As I said before about the Collector's attempt to use kindness with Belos, this is a glorious subversion of the "redeem all your enemies and become friends with everybody" trope that a lot of stories especially in recent times like to employ. And not only are some people so vile to the core that they refuse to change, but there are people who just do not deserves forgiveness and that's ok. From the start Belos has had a hateful, close minded view of the world and has only ever wanted to cause suffering to others. He craves violence and in 16th century puritan fashion he has chosen the witches as his victims, literally committing hundreds of years to his genocidal schemes and killing his own brother when he didn't agree with him. There is nothing that Belos could do at this point to redeem himself, he is beyond redemption and I love what the Owl House has to say about this. Belos is fascist dictator who refused to change his world views over hundreds of years of opportunities and has attempted actual genocide, this man is unforgivably evil and needs to removed from existence before he can hurt anybody else. Something I love about the Owl House is that not only does is celebrate oppressed and unrepresented minorities, but it directly calls out the evil people who oppress them. It's beautiful and it's realistic and what I love about how this show presents all this is how literal it is.

Just like that, Belos is gone and our heroes are free to relax. The power of the Titan leaves Luz's body and as it does we get one final look the literally fiery soul of King's dad. King himself gets one good look at his father before he disappears into the sky and Luz turns back into a human. In a heartwarming moment Eda and King hug Luz and they all fall to the ground, finally able to look up and breath. The Owl family is reunited for good, and Luz gets to tell King what his dad had wanted to say to him and it's a cute call back to King's love of bread puns, showing that she was watching over him this whole time. "I loaf you."

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta

[whathappenedtomyweekend]

It’s Just A Spark Ch. 20 - The Toothbrush Test

Read it on ffnet (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12754698/1/It-s-Just-A-Spark) and ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114941/chapters/30003876)

________________________________________________________

There was still a spring in her step as Astrid was on her way back from work a few days later. She had awoken to a text from Hiccup saying, 'gone on cleaning duty with three hours of sleep today! Hope you're having a better day than I am xx'. Accompanied by a follow-up: 'I could think of something that would turn this day around though – let's grab dinner later? Feels like we haven't seen each other in forever! Will be free from 6 pm.'

'That gives me another two hours to go through the usual household routine,' Astrid thought as she jammed her key in her lock and body-slammed her unwilling door. She decided to start with the state of her inbox (which, perhaps, may not even be considered a 'household routine task', but based on her logic it was, indeed, very urgent). Astrid had a bad habit of letting emails sit for too long, with a current proud count of 9,426 unread emails.

She turned on the kettle, sat down at the kitchen table and opened her laptop, absent-mindedly pushing the on-button as she thought back to what they had spoken about last night.

Hiccup had sounded so serious, anxious even. Part of her had known his job would have had to come up at some point, and she was glad they had talked about it. She'd always been aware that his profession was dangerous – danger had been the reason they'd met, after all. But then again, another part of her somehow knew that she wouldn't truly understand just how dangerous it was until something happened. Maybe it was the kind of thing you needed to see until you truly believed or were able to predict it. Either way, she knew she was willing to take the risk.

Her laptop's screen lit up. The notification centre binged. Astrid shook her head as if to shake off her heavy thoughts, reminding herself of the task ahead. Emails. Right. 9,427 now.

Her heart almost skipped a beat when she saw who the last email was from. Puffin Point Secondary School Secretary Office – Admission and Recruitment. "Oh, my God," she breathed out, her hand shaking as she reached out to click on the email titled, 'RE: Application for Assistant Teaching'. Astrid took a deep, shaking breath, closing her eyes for a second until she could read the mail:

'Dear Miss Hofferson,

Thank you for your application. I am delighted to inform you that you have been invited to an interview on Tuesday, 19 July 2019 at 8.45 AM. Please let me know if that date works for you – I do apologise for the short notice, there was an issue with our servers, and I have not been able to get out any emails for the past few days. I hope to meet you soon.

If you should have any further questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.

With kind regards,

Camilla Bog, Head of Administrations and Recruitment'

Astrid sat back, still shaking. 19th July. That was tomorrow. Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Before she knew what she was even doing, she had her phone in her hand and had dialled Hiccup's number.

"Astrid? Is everything-"

"I got the interview," she just said and Hiccup stopped mid-sentence.

"Wait, the – you mean the interview for the assistant teaching?"

Astrid nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Yeah," she got out, covering her mouth with her free hand, lips trembling. She felt overwhelmed, overjoyed and scared within every inch of her body at the same time.

"That's – that's amazing, Astrid, congratulations!" she heard him say on the other line, and she felt like she had to sit down despite never even having got up. "For when?"

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "8.45."

"Oh, wow. That's soon," Hiccup commented and Astrid nodded, feeling heat rush up and down her body at the thought of the whole thing.

"How are you feeling?" he asked and Astrid just sat there, feeling quite numb now.

"I don't know," she said. "Overwhelmed. Shocked. Excited. Mostly scared, though. I feel absolutely mortified. I didn't even know I'd get an interview. What if I don't-"

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there," Hiccup interrupted her, audibly smiling. "I'm gonna be over in two hours, I'm bringing food and ice cream and we're getting you thought this. Okay?"

"Okay."

A small smile crept onto Astrid's lips now as she closed her laptop and stared down at her kitchen table, the sound of the boiling kettle slowly fading in the background.

"We're gonna get you through this," Hiccup repeated on the other end of the line.

Astrid spent the next two hours cleaning and tidying her flat. It was a feeble attempt at muffling the whirlwind of thoughts raging through her head, but still, it did help her to somewhat sort it out and get her feet back on the ground. It was one of the many advantages of cleaning: your hands are busy doing other things and give your mind time to figure everything out and get back down to earth.

She wrung the sponge out over the sink, tossed it to the side and leaned against the counter, breathing out and closing her eyes. 'It's gonna be nice to spend some time together,' she thought. It felt like they'd barely got to spend some time together ever since that alarm. The last few days had felt somewhat rushed, distracted by other things, quick text messages and hour-long stretches in-between texts. She'd missed him. 'It's silly, really,' she thought and pushed herself off the counter and shuffled over to her sofa and, with a long sigh, slumped down on it.

'I really got that interview, huh,' she thought, staring up at the water stain on her ceiling. 'I mean, to be fair, that doesn't mean I have the job by any means.'

She'd been trying to rationalise the whole thing for the last hour of her cleaning time and while it felt like she'd definitely got the nervous energy out of her system she wasn't really sure if she knew what to do about the whole situation. Show up to the interview, of course. No-brainer. But beyond that, she had no idea. What to prepare, to ask, to say about herself was completely and utterly beyond her. Maybe Hiccup would have some ideas – scratch that, she expected Hiccup to have some ideas. He always did, somehow.

The doorbell rang, interrupting her musings and Astrid jumped up from the sofa, half-way to the door thinking about how she hadn't even put the kettle on and if she had anything edible in her fridge or at least something they could throw together into something that closely resembled a nutritious-

"Hi," Hiccup grinned, dropped his rucksack and opened his arms and her mind went quiet.

Astrid closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, breathing in, peace washing over her.

"Hi," she whispered back and tightened her grip around his middle.

"How're you feeling?" he mumbled and she shrugged into the embrace.

"Like I've got the most important interview of my dream job thus far coming up. You?"

"Like my girlfriend just got the most important interview of her dream job thus far coming up," he quipped back and she pulled back, squinting her eyes at him. He met her with a warm, genuine grin and gently cupped her face. "It's good to see you this excited. Sorry I've been so absent over the past few days."

"It's okay," she muttered. "We've both been busy ..." She trailed off as their faces moved closer and closer together until they met halfway in a soft kiss. Hiccup's hands gently roamed her back in a comforting motion as they parted again and he grinned at her.

"Ready to get some food on?"

"Oh yeah, I was gonna tell you, I don't really have anything in my-"

"I brought takeaway!" he announced cheerfully as he slipped off his shoes and plopped himself down onto her sofa, holding up his rucksack.

Astrid grinned, a bit more than relieved if she was being honest with herself. "You're amazing."

She let herself fall down next to him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I'll get us some plates in a minute," she mumbled into the fabric of his jumper and he chuckled, his arm coming around her.

"Oh, but don't you know that it is tradition to have takeaway straight out of the box?"

She squinted, a grin creeping up on her face. "Is it? I wasn't aware."

"Oh, yes. The ancient scripts demand it. Those are the age-old rules – sacred, even. One must follow them."

"Are you sure those 'ancient scripts' don't only apply to down-on-their-luck firemen who are sat in their basement all day long?"

"Oi!" Hiccup huffed indignantly. "It's a common room, I'll have you know."

Astrid laughed, gave him a kiss on the cheek and got up to get some plates and proper cutlery.

"So," Hiccup muffled between a mouthful of Pad Thai, "Walk me through this. How're we gonna go about the interview? You got a plan yet?"

Astrid furrowed her brow, looking at him while she slurped up her noodles unceremoniously. "'unno," she confessed after a few seconds and swallowed, setting her plat down onto her lap.

"I don't even know why they called me in for an interview, to be honest. I mean, I have a giant gap-"

"Hang on, I thought we went over this!" Hiccup interrupted her and set down his plate, taking her hands in his. "You're amazing. You wrote down why you're amazing. And they agreed and invited you."

She sighed. "I – okay, fine. But then what," she pulled her hands out of his, wildly gesticulating. "do I just turn up and go, 'hey, I'm great – hire me!'"

He squinted his eyes at her. "Okay, come on, stop messing with me. I know this is an important interview and you're stressed out but it's also nothing you can't do."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"How?"

Astrid felt herself getting more and more irritated with the whole situation, and it wasn't even his fault at all. Why couldn't she just stop moaning about this and just … get it together? The fact that she couldn't get it together and – even worse – felt like she wasn't even good enough to be seriously considered for this job made her fume.

Astrid knew that really, what was hiding behind her anger was fear.

"I-" she started and was horrified at the tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke. "I'm scared. I'm so, so scared I'm going to screw it all up."

Hiccup's face fell as his heart dropped at the sight of her face.

"I – I'm going to go in there and I won't know what to say, and I'll screw everything up and the one – the one thing I was always sure about is going to be even further away from me than it ever was before."

Astrid was absolutely terrified. Becoming a teacher had been her only goal for such a long time, and she felt like she had everything to prove with this single – and first – opportunity she'd seemed to have got out of sheer and utter dumb luck.

"For years, this was the only thing that kept me going, the one and only thing that got me through being thrown out and cast away by someone I loved and who I thought had my back, and the one and only reason I'm still at this stupid fucking bar and let myself be yelled at by people I can't stand."

Tears were streaming down her face now.

"I just want to be someone. I want to be who I wanted to be growing up. I want to look at myself in the mirror and think, 'I did something worthwhile today'. I want to go to work and feel like I'm actually accomplishing something that's worth being proud of. I just want to be proud of myself."

She hid her face in her hands. "I'm sorry, this is stupid. I'm so fucking stupid."

"Hey," Hiccup reached out and slowly took her hands in his, pulling them away from his face and ever-so-gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You're not stupid so don't even try."

Astrid sniffed and gave him a shaky, half-smile. Hiccup's eyes searched hers, hands closing around hers again.

"Remember when I said not to apologise for having feelings?"

She nodded feebly and Hiccup smiled, lightly squeezing her hands. "I stand by that. Still mean it."

Astrid looked at him, tears still in her eyes, and she didn't know why she was still crying, and there were a million thoughts running through her head, but all she could say to him as she looked into his eyes was, "Can you stay here tonight?"

Hiccup stopped, and then the softest of smiles grew on his face.

"Of course."

Astrid exhaled, closed her eyes and sunk into him, against his shoulder. "Thanks. I love you," she mumbled and Hiccup could have thought about how this was the first time she'd said these words to him, or how he'd been waiting for the perfect moment, or for it to somehow be more significant. Instead, he just looked down to her, a soft smile settled on his lips, heart full of love, his mind calm.

"I love you, too."

Thank God she had a spare toothbrush. 'Sharing many things as a couple is great,' Astrid thought as she stood in her bathroom, hands on her hips. 'But a toothbrush is definitely taking it too far.'

"Got it!" she called out into the bedroom behind her and grinned as Hiccup popped his head through the bathroom door, face lit up.

"Nice, thanks" came the affirmation as she handed him the toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste onto it. And so there they stood, side by side, brushing their teeth in silence.

Astrid had thought that maybe this would be weird. The last (and first) time they'd stayed the night they'd done this separately. And she'd always thought cleaning your teeth with someone else was awkward, that you were just kind of supposed to feel a bit stupid. But here she was, looking over at Hiccup and realising that she was absolutely fine doing this, her heart completely at peace. Maybe this was what love was, she thought to herself and looked at his reflection in the mirror and the way he blinked at her when he realised she was looking at him. Feeling at ease brushing teeth together.

'Maybe,' she thought and turned on the tap.

She waited for him to finish and said, when he turned to her, "I have a toothbrush – but no extra clothes."

"Didn't you keep my things? From the storm?" he asked and Astrid remembered the shorts and t-shirt she'd left carefully folded in the bottom of her wardrobe. With a small, "Of course" she went over to her wardrobe and handed him the clothes, somewhat sheepishly.

"Thanks," he grinned. "I guess they're dry now, huh."

She snorted. "I guess." And after a moment of hesitation, "I'll, uh … turn around so you can change."

Hiccup laughed. "Isn't that my line?"

"Maybe. I'll still turn around though."

He chuckled and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Alright, suit yourself."

Busy silence ensued. Astrid was gnawing on her lip. The image of Hiccup in a towel standing in the doorway, her handing him his Tupperware burning in front of her eyes.

"Real talk though, would it bother you if I turned around?"

A pause, during which she assumed he swallowed down a smug grin. "Again, suit yourself." Astrid held her breath and swung around, rather unceremoniously and was met with the sight of a grinning, shirtless Hiccup who extended his hands to her.

"That bad?"

She snorted, letting out the breath she'd been holding. "That's not how I would describe it."

"Oh yeah?" He had a smug grin on his face now as he lightly took hold of her wrists and pulled her closer to him. "How would you describe it then, dare I ask?"

Hiccup was playing it cool but his face was burning, and his heart was beating so quickly he was afraid she might hear. Astrid looked at him with a smile that made his knees go weaker than the first time he'd had to slide down the pole at work.

"Quite literally the stuff of my dreams," she said and he was pretty sure one of his knees actually gave way, and he could have sworn he could actually feel the blood from his head rushing elsewhere.

Oh, God.

"You dream about me?"

She shrugged, coyly, stepping closer, one of her hands coming up to rest on his shoulder. "Maybe. Occasionally."

"Well," he paused and grabbed her free hand. "Care to share what happens in those maybe-occasional dreams?"

Astrid hesitated, eyes fixed on him, and that was the exact moment Hiccup decided to stop being a coward.

In a swift motion his other hand wrapped around her back, and he pulled her close, lips crashing down on hers in a restless frenzy. Hiccup's heart was beating up to his throat as he felt her arms wrap around his neck in return, pulling him down to her, her breath hot on his face as they shortly parted, stumbling as their lips met again and again, and suddenly they found themselves leaning against the wall of her bedroom. Their eyes met in a breathless second, and Astrid grinned at him, making his heart flutter. She kissed him again and Hiccup could swear he was floating. This wasn't real.

There was something about the wall on his back though that felt very real. Her hands roaming his chest also felt very real. Her lips on his skin were probably the realest thing he'd ever felt in his entire life. His hands cupped her face in an attempt to pull her ever closer, and maybe just to touch her and confirm to his nagging mind that yes, this was indeed real.

Her hands around his neck were pulling him back now, and together they stumbled forward, or backwards, neither of them really cared to tell, and Astrid's knees hit her bed. Without a second thought she let herself fall onto it, shooting Hiccup a quick look and caught a bright grin as he leant down to meet her lips again, and it was impossible to slow down. He started kissing his way down her neck, lingering at the spots where he drew a short gasp and grinned into her skin.

And then, suddenly, everything was going way too fast, and it seemed that suddenly they both started realising what they were about to do at the same time and time slowed down, their faces inches away from each other, hands on each other's clothes, his hands under her shirt.

There was a breathless silence in which their gazes collided.

"Are you sure?" Astrid asked, hesitantly pulling her hands away from his belt buckle.

Hiccup looked at her, his mind unoccupied by any other thought than this, "I love you," he blurted out, cupping her face.

"I love you, too," Astrid whispered and leaned her forehead against his, eyes closed, voice soft and small when she spoke again, "Do you want to wait? We don't have to do this now. I'd get it."

"I'm sick of waiting, I've waited way too long to even kiss you," Hiccup said determined. "I want this. I want you. Do you?"

Astrid looked at him and his heart skipped a beat.

"Yes."

A grin broke out on both of their faces after this, and it felt uncontrollable.

"You don't have to take your trousers off if you don't want to," Astrid whispered, gently stroking his face as she kissed him.

Hiccup pulled his face away and frowned at her, half-smiling. "I'll keep my leg on if you don't mind. I'll show you another time."

"Sure, whatever you're comfortable with," she replied, softly, still stroking his cheek, and Hiccup's heart felt like it was overflowing with love for the woman in his arms. And so kissed her once more. And again. And again.

Astrid awoke the next morning, blear-eyed, glowering at her 7.00 AM alarm. She turned it off and rolled back onto her side. Hiccup groaned beside her and put his arm around her, burying his face in her chest. She chuckled.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

"Morning," he grunted and opened his eyes shortly to peer up at her, a slow grin blossoming on his face. "Sleep well?"

Astrid returned his smile and nodded, trying to suppress a yawn but then gave in. "Yeah. You?"

"Eh, so-so. Woke up a couple times," he replied. "Fell asleep quickly though." He peered at her, a cheeky grin on his lips and Astrid laughed.

"I know, I heard."

Hiccup sat up, feigning outrage. "Are saying I snore?"

She snorted. "Yeah you do."

"You know I won't believe you until you pull a tape, do you?"

"Absolutely."

They sat in silence for a while, a slow smile still hanging on Hiccup's lips when Astrid rolled over on her side to face him, her face inquisitive.

"Is it weird that we slept together yesterday?"

Hiccup's heart nervously skipped a beat. Oh, God, she was regretting it. Of course she was. He should have seen this coming. He could already see her telling him she definitely wouldn't consider sleeping with him again.

"What? Why would it be weird?"

"I don't know," she mused, resting her head on her arm. "We just never really talked about it before. It felt a bit … rushed? Like, um, spur-of-the-moment. I'm just … I just hope you're not regretting it."

Oh, thank God. She wasn't actually breaking up with him. Part of him was just rolling his eyes internally at the wild absurdity of his conscious mind. "Why would I regret this?" He reached out and gently swept a strand of hair out of her face.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just thought … you know, 'cause we never really talked about it wasn't really sure if you even wanted to have sex with me. Like, at all."

"Are you kidding? I don't want to enforce any stereotypes here, but that's literally all I'm thinking about when I'm at work sometimes. Well, not all of the time. That'd be very unprofessional and unsafe for everybody," he said jokingly and got a small grin out of her. She didn't really look convinced.

"Astrid," he cupped her face and steadily held her gaze. "When I say I love you, I mean it. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Ever. I just have to see you and all rational thought goes out the window. The only reason I even waited to long to kiss you is because I was afraid you weren't gonna be okay with it. I also may or may not have tried to wait for the perfect moment, which I realised, there is no such thing as perfect. But you, this, us, all I know is it's making me happy and driving me crazy at the same time. I don't know how else to describe this feeling other than I love you and you feel like sunshine to me after a really rainy and stormy week."

Astrid hesitated, and suddenly she remembered Hiccup, the sun going up behind him, asking her if she was good with flowers, his eyes full of wonder, and she saw him grin, and then she understood, so she smiled and whispered, "To me, every moment with you is perfect. And I've never been great with flowers, but I can learn."

At that, Hiccup's eyes lit up, his smile widening, and suddenly they were gravitating towards each other again, colliding with a softness that created entire worlds around them.

Suddenly, that starry night in which he'd spoken to Snotlout and realised he was in love felt both incredibly close and an eternity away.

"I don't have the words yet," she mumbled, still smiling as she leaned closer, interlocking her hands. "But I love you," she whispered into the space between them. Hiccup grinned and closed the short distance between them, breathing the reply back into her skin like a secret just for them to keep.

Astrid suddenly pulled back, her eyes dancing over his face, smile blinding.

"So does that mean I'm stuck with you?"

Hiccup grinned, pulling her against him again as he leaned in.

"Precisely."

[princessmadafu]

That Book (excuse the long post)

I didn't want to jump into the fray without first thinking over the published extracts of FF and the various critiques and synopses in the press. I'd just like to send huge thanks to YankeeWallee and everyone that YW herself thanks for the collated screenshots of the excerpts and RoyahNikkah's review. I'll do what the rest of you do and state here that these are my personal opinions and anything quoted comes under "fair usage", etc. Long live free speech!

My over-riding reaction is, what an absolute pile of lies, lies and more lies. Starting with Scobie's sources, of which he says there are at least two per nugget of information. I believe most of the book has come directly or indirectly from MM herself, and that any "sources" have MM's blessing, sanction or outright order to disclose. FaceTiming in the bath? How would Scobie know? Unless he was in the bath with her, this can only have come from herself or the friend being FaceTimed. There is too much of a highly personal nature for it to be Scobie's own investigative work. So there's the first lie, straight from the weirdly-toothy Sussexy horse's mouth; of course she collaborated!

Some of us had our reservations right from the start of Harry and MM's relationship, but we were prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt and join in the welcome of a biracial, divorced American actress. Right-wing, left-wing, a-political or not-royally-bothered, we all thought, Let's give the pair a chance to see what they can do.

How about this article from Spiked on the engagement of Harry & MM from 2017:

Meghan Markle: Generation Woke's Princess Diana - spiked

"...look no further than the fawning response to the engagement of Prince Harry and American actress Meghan Markle – one of those rare occasions in which both the Telegraph editorial team and the identity-politics set erupted in simultaneous celebration."

How quickly the celebration wore off as the pair of them squandered our goodwill. Another article from Spiked from July 2019, less than two years later, is harsher, when we've all been insulted, preached at and condemned as racists by PH&MM:

Meghan Markle is the worst kind of snob - spiked

"With the possible exception of a few sad social outcasts, no one has a problem with the fact that Meghan’s mum just happens to be black. No, Meghan is criticised for being snobby, elitist, hopelessly out of touch and possessing all the self-awareness of a flea. It’s not Meghan’s skin colour that annoys people, but the fact that she thinks nothing of donning an outfit that costs more than most people in the UK earn in a year and then getting her minders to order the public not to take photos of her. [...] There are heaps of reasons for people not just to criticise Meghan and Harry, but to ridicule their hypocrisy and puncture their pomposity. And not one involves the colour of Meghan’s skin. Meghan comes in for criticism because she is the worst kind of snob who condescends to tell others not just what to do, but also what to think. The fact that she is biracial is completely irrelevant. Of course, there is an obvious solution for Harry and Meghan if they do not like the public attention and criticism. Harry could denounce his claim to the throne. They could give up the titles, move out of the palaces and fund their own lifestyle. I can’t for the life of me imagine why they don’t."

Prescient, no? Six months later and they announce they're off. She played him like a fiddle. The raptures she went into over Botswana and wanting the spend the summer? Did she feed his fantasies of moving to Africa permanently? How strange that Africa became Canada, which then became Los Angeles? Strange my perky little bottom! She had this planned all along. I don't know if PH is with her over there, but she certainly seems to be feeding the illusion that she is now Hollywood Royalty. If she couldn't cut real Royalty, she definitely won't cut the LaLaLand version which is a lot less restrained in voicing its opinions of jumped-up wannabes. Especially the Markly ones who cut, dump, run and show no loyalty or staying power.

The following points, in no particular order, are mostly from an assortment of DM writers and comments from members of the public.

"The book claims the so-called ‘old guard’ tried to undermine the couple and ‘were concerned that the global interest in and popularity of the Sussexes needed to be reined in’." A little self-aggrandisement here, possibly? Global interest, maybe, of the rubber-necking car crash variety, but global popularity? When was that, exactly? Royal staff are all well aware that the purpose of the Royals is to support HMTQ; that is their job. If the Sussexes needed reining in at all, it was because they weren't doing their job properly.

"Harry and Meghan believed ‘few inside the palace were looking out for their interests’ and felt that most courtiers could not be trusted with their sensitive information." Ditto, the courtiers' job is to look out for the interests of HMTQ; PH&MM's job was to look out for the interests of HMTQ, not themselves.

"They believed that these ‘men in grey suits’ were stifling their attempts to launch their initiatives, and when they tried to air these frustrations ‘the conversations didn’t lead anywhere’." I mean, come on! PH is 6th in line. He knows that. There is no "they" involved here - it's all MM again, isn't it, thinking she's more important because she's more popular and she famously gets what she wants... She thought she could snap her fingers and make whatever she wanted happen. She ignored the hierarchy and the protocols, and probably (I suspect) got dimwit Harry believing that she knew best, and that together they could change the world.

"One source said Harry felt that some of the old guard at the palace ‘simply didn’t like Meghan and would stop at nothing to make her life difficult’." I can well believe that staff at the palace didn't like her - she showed her true colours quite early on - but deliberately making her life difficult? I suspect this is what MM told Harry. Twisted the truth, naturally. I'm guessing she made a few ridiculous OTT demands, or wanted some unworkable project, and the staff, knowing their jobs as they do, tried to point out the flaws in her ideas, prevent her making a fool of herself, or otherwise politely protect her from herself. Goodness knows, she made a fool of herself often enough, barging in front and all that...

"The book concludes that Meghan was ‘totally foreign’ to this group of advisers, who ‘could sometimes be even more conservative than the institution they guarded’." They were guarding an institution with over a thousand years of history from someone with neither understanding of nor respect for British history, the Monarchy, or the duties of the RF; and she made no effort to learn.

"Another insider said: ‘The fact is that Meghan was welcomed with open arms and everyone did their best to offer their help about how to navigate such a tricky public role – advice she would often choose to ignore." The arrogance of the woman! And she was welcomed. She just believed that she knew best.

"Omid Scobie said Meghan’s high-profile career as an actress and the fact that she was a divorcee left her ‘ripe for exploitation’." High-profile career, mwah! Actress, mwah! Divorcee, so what? Charles and Camilla are both divorce/es, Anne is a divorcee, so is Andrew, and a whole bunch of other lesser royals. As for being ripe for exploitation, I think we all know how this panned out and MM wasn't the one being exploited! Far from it. She milked every opportunity and opening her new title and her new husband could bring her.

"During one of their final engagements as senior royals, Meghan was ‘purposefully snubbed’ by Kate in front of a global TV audience, the authors claim." Well now, where to start on this one? MM threw a hissy fit because she wasn't allowed to walk in the procession with HMTQ, C&C and DDoC. The DDoC decided to appease MM by pulling out of the procession and taking their seats. Now I don't know what DDoC thought about that but I can just imagine them comparing MM's behaviour with that of their own beautifully behaved kids. I can just imagine them thinking thank God she'll be gone soon! I doubt there was any purposeful snubbing at the service but MM has no manners and no idea how to behave, not even in church. The DDoC are too well brought-up to "carry on" in a place of worship, nor would they lean across seats for a happy little chat, just a quick turn round for a friendly word with Edward and Sophie immediately behind them before the arrival of C&C and HMTQ. Churches are not places to be gossiping and grinning inanely, and you definitely don't push your way through the chairs when the service is over! She is so rude and ill-mannered.

"The book claims Meghan and Kate’s ‘cordial but distant rapport’ was apparent when the pair appeared alongside each other at the King Power Royal Charity Polo Day last summer." I don't remember the dates exactly, but I should think by this time DoC was well and truly fed up with MM's shenanigans; the doe-eyes she'd been pulling at PW, the rumours she and the SS had been fanning about PW and une petite liaison with a long-time friend... Cordial but distant was probably the best MM could hope for at this stage; DoC was hardly about to play Happy Families with the troublemaker.

"The couple were dismayed when no photograph of them and their son Archie was displayed during the Queen’s Christmas speech last year." It was quite clear that the photos on display represented the direct line of succession, from HMTQ's father through to her great-grandson - five generations of the Monarchy. I truly believe that MM wanted to "modernise" the RF to such an extent that PH would be elected King! With MM at his side, dripping in all the jewels she could get her greedy mitts on! I realise it must be hard for PH to get to grips with his status as "Pretty Much Relegated Former Spare", but she must have been really feeding his insecurities if she got him upset about the absence of a photograph.

"Prince Harry was the first to say 'I love you' in his relationship with Meghan Markle, with friends revealing the couple were 'immediately obsessed' with each other, according to the latest extract of a bombshell biography." Oooh, how would Scobie know something as intimate as this? Immediately obsessed with each other, I can well believe; MM with his status, title, money, the palaces, the jewels... and she reeled him into her fantasy world with lies and perfectly posed KamaSutra yoga until he was obsessed with this chameleon woman, at the same time both mother-figure and hot, sexy, adoring, sophisticated, intelligent, humanitarian animal lover. Oh the lies, the lies; "Will you walk into my parlour, said the Spider to the Fly."

"They enjoyed a romantic dinner, with staff taking great pains to ensure their privacy, whisking them in through a staff entrance usually used to bring in fish discreetly." This is their second date at SoHo House, and again, how would Scobie know little details unless MM had told him herself? I like the hint of shade by the writer noting that the entrance was used to bring in fish discreetly - there's definitely something fishy about MM!

How about some comments from DM readers?

"Every single shameless self-serving tabloid "leak" and publicity stunt she has orchestrated has backfired specularly. Hence why Harry has gone from beloved military man and active working Royal to a national embarrassment within two short years! Her efforts at aggressive self-promotion are no match for her lack of talent or perspective in that area. She could have heeded advice from other, more dedicated Royals, but No. Meghan knew better and decided that she was deserving of instant worship fit for her 'celebrity' expectations. The Duchess of Cambridge has earned respect over years with quiet dedication to her causes. Meghan felt entitled to all the glory instantly, and was clearly slighted to learn that respect is not something to be commanded. She is a culture vulture with no respect or understanding of the very people that she promised to represent." [Jace T Adams]

"The narrative of the relationship is laughable. Everyone knows they first met in Canada when Harry was there for Invictus. He needed a girl for the night and Meghan was arranged for him. She must have been impressive as they had a date the next day and the rest is history." [Lady M]

"You can't work with someone you don't trust and these two have proven untrustworthy." [ellegrav]

I have no inside information on any of above, but people better placed than I am are making similar judgments on the contents of FF; people who've spent their working lives following and reporting on the RF.

"The Queen’s former press secretary Dickie Arbiter told the Mail: ‘I think it has their fingerprints all over it. We had a similar scenario in 1992 when Diana swore blind she hadn’t helped Andrew Morton and yet a year later it came out that she had indirectly helped him so history is repeating itself. ‘There are too many things that we have seen in the serialisation that could only come from the horse’s mouth, like deciding to gatecrash Sandringram when they landed from Canada."

And Jan Moir: JAN MOIR on the Meghan and Harry biography that has put ...

What did the pair of them want or expect? Top billing, it seems. What is remarkable is that Harry’s whole life and entire upbringing have been devoted and calibrated to him being a prince. Surely he understands how it works? Surely he could have explained the system to his vexed new bride? Primarily, that being royal is a form of active service, with ranks and a hierarchy so uncomplicated that schoolchildren throughout the realm understand the line of succession and its importance to the Windsors — and to us.

And Robert Hardman: ROBERT HARDMAN: Harry and Meghan are ... - dailymail.co.uk

Yet Finding Freedom is a struggle against protocol and seating plans. It is based on the perceived unfairness of a pecking order which has governed — and preserved — the monarchy for 1,000 years.

We can't all be wrong!

[goodgirlsfanficawards]

This Wednesday we’re featuring another round of WIP classics we can’t wait to read more of! Curl up and give them a read or a reread and show them some love!

A Moment In Time With You by Strawmari / @xstrawmari​​

22 Nov 2020, M, 36K, 17/21

“Hi, I’m Camilla, this is my husband Leon and our son Rio. We just moved next door and wanted to introduce ourselves” she said, extending her hand.

Cindy took it “Beth, honey come here for a second”.

Beth ran to the door with her teddy bear in hand, hiding behind her mom’s leg when she saw the strangers staring back at her. The woman gave a small wave, while the man looked less than thrilled to be there. The house next door had been vacant for years, at least three, so having a friendly family move in was a nice change of pace.

“How old are you? Four?” Camilla asked, bending down so she was at eye level.

Beth peeked out from behind her mom’s thigh, shaking her head. “Five”.

“No way, my Rio here is five too”.

Beth stepped rest the way out until she was face to face with the little boy. He had on converse, black jeans and a checkered yellow and black shirt that was buttoned all the way up. He offered her a small smile. “Hi”.

“Hi”.

in the dark by medievalraven / @medievalraven​​

05 Nov 2020, M, 45K, 7/12

“Didn’t know there’d been a change of management ‘round here.”

He pushes off the doorway to step deeper into the office, brushing his fingertips along the edge of a framed family portrait on the desk before dropping to sit in one of the chairs.

And Beth’s not quite sure who she thought would show up tonight, but it’s definitely not the man in front of her now.  He’s younger than she expected, only a couple years younger than her and dressed in a fitted dark denim jacket and black jeans, the low light of the office doing little to hide the strong line of his jaw or the shadow of his long eyelashes against his cheekbones.  

It was only the large tattoo spanning his lean neck, some kind of hawk or eagle in flight Beth thinks, that hinted at something different than the rest of his put-together appearance, something predatory.   

Clearing her throat softly, Beth forces her eyes away from the dark lines decorating his throat to meet the man’s expectant eyes again, ignoring the flicker of whatever was beginning to coil deep inside her.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

You were my life (life is far away from fair) by linzackles / @mrslackles​​

06 Dec 2021, E, 43K, 8/?

“Where have you been? It’s been hours!”

Annie rolls her eyes, dropping her stuff on the kitchen counter.

“It’s Rio’s family. They stuffed me full of every kind of food imaginable while asking me every question in this universe about you.”

Beth’s eyes widen.

“Did you—”

“No, of course not.”

She swallows, relieved.

“Well, did you get it?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs easily. “No problems. You’d think they’d protect Mr Dangerous Crime Lord’s phone number a little better, but nope.”

Beth nibbles on her lip, somehow even more stressed now.

“What did you say about why I wanted his number?”

Annie shakes her head.

“I said it was for me. That my boss was bothering me again and Rio said to call him if I ever needed his help with him again, but that that was like twelve years and twenty phones ago.”

It could be the pearl It could be our hope, our dream, our life by illbeyourbatman

27 Dec 2020, G, 13K, 3/4

“Don’t worry darling we’ll get there,”

He turns back towards the bar, signalling the young bartender who been hovering near by. He puts in his order before turning to Beth. “You want something? Little liquid courage. You might need it.”

Her heart stops.

"I'm fine. Thanks." She tries to smile at the younger man who's watching her eagerly but by the look on his face she wasn't successful.

"Aight, suit yourself."

Beth knows this is all part of the game he likes to play. The let's see how long it takes Beth to crack game. It seems to be a favourite of his.

Beth watches him as he swirls the new drink around the glass, seemingly in no rush.

"How much you think your life's worth." he asks almost absent minded, watching the auburn coloured liquid in his glass.

"I-" Beth started but had no idea what to say.

"Yeah," Rio laughed lightly still not looking at her. "See, you’re not asking me to put a price on your life, your asking me to put a price on mine."

A Bit of a Situation by IFeelLikeGlitter

27 Jan 2021, M, 18K, 9/12

Elizabeth’s head whips around at an alarming speed, rousing a smirk from Rio. He leans up against the island with his hand pressing into his shoulder. It’s getting worse, he can tell by the black spots dotting his vision, but all he is capable of focusing on is her reaction.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Her speech is slurred, just slightly, but it’s enough to grab his attention. She’s drunk- the rosiness of her cheeks and the droopiness of her eyes proving that to him.

He sighs and grabs her glass of bourbon off of the counter, wincing at the movement, but finishing it in one swig. Maybe this was a bad idea.

She takes a few cautious steps towards him as he responds with a lazy gesture to the blood covering his upper arm, “I got a bit of a situation.”

Her breath catches audibly seconds before she is hurrying over to his side.

“Oh my God! You’re bleeding!”

He chuckles humorlessly, unable to ignore the captivating sweet smell of her, now that she’s so close.

He hates it.

He hates how his body reacts to her presence. He hates that she has this kind of control over him without even knowing it. It makes him want to punch something- the wall, himself, maybe- and it also makes him want to kiss her.

If you know of anyone’s tumblr/twitter and we haven’t found it or tagged incorrectly, please send us an ask to let us know.

[jadekitty777]

Snapshot Aesthetics

OKAY BUT FG WEEKEND? WHO’S CRAZY IDEA WAS THAT.

You better know I want to participate though xD I didn’t plan to have an entry for today but, well, things change lol

Day 1: Outfits

Rating: K

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Clover's job was simple: Get the model to pose properly, smile, and take the shot. But the new hire, Qrow, was about to throw a wrench into that simplicity... in more ways than one. [Fashion Model AU]

Ao3 Link: Snapshot Aesthetics

~

Snap!

The sound of his camera shutter going off was almost inaudible under the early morning hustle that had overtaken the studio. Clover inspected the shot of Elm displaying back on his LCD screen. He shook his head, calling to the stagehand, “Lower the forelights! There’s too much washout!”

“You got it boss.” She saluted, stepping off the scene to go tinker with the fluorescents.

Th telltale sound of stilettos had his head turning, seeing Willow striding over, lips pursed with annoyance. “Are we ready yet?”

“Almost.” He assured, showing her the picture. “Just a bit more tweaking on the lights and we’ll be good to go.”

She placed a hand on her hip, scanning the team critically. “Good.”

“Everything alright? You look…” He mulled over all his safe adjective options, “Unhappy.”

She sighed exasperatedly. “Qrow is causing a bit of a ruckus back in dress. Won’t let Kali even do his makeup.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know what I was thinking, listening to Taiyang.”

“It’s probably because the new guy’s pretty.” And related to Raven, he thought but didn’t dare utter the runway model’s name aloud. If he did, then it would make his manager think of her ex-husband and Raven’s agent, Jacques Schnee. That was a nasty pandora’s box he’d rather keep closed.

Nevertheless, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time she hired someone simply based on an affiliation they had to someone in Jacques’ team, thinking it as some retroactive way of getting back at him. Taiyang himself was one such decision, also ironically due his connection with Raven. Though, he’d heard the two’s relationship had been more… carnal in nature.

The plus was, Taiyang had worked out great. He was handsome and jovial and easy to direct on set. Clover’s only hope when he learned of the new hire was that the same could be said for Qrow; but, it was sounding like he had his twin sister’s notorious diva-like personality, if Willow’s frustration was anything to go by. Which meant he was in for a long day.

“Light check!” Elm called, flexing both arms proudly like a muscle builder.

He snapped the shot, then nodded at the quality. “Perfect!”

Willow swiveled, heading for the door. “Let’s get started then.”

~

Over the course of the seven years Clover had worked for Trendy magazine, he’d discovered that each fashion designer had a specific ‘taste’ they were going for when it came to showing off their line-up and he’d learned to pose the models accordingly to keep their clients happy and coming back for each issue. So, he kept certain things in mind with each designer’s desires, like how Sienna preferred her poses to be as dynamic and wild as possible and Camilla wanted proper posture and a bit of elegance.

Unfortunately, today’s clothing line was from Roman and Neo. Which meant balancing the two designers’ conflicting requirements of flamboyance and subtlety into one picture. It tended to lead to a lot of small changes for limb placement and expression before he ever even rose his camera.

So, it tended to be a relief when the snap sounded off and he said, “Alright, you’re done!”

“Oh, thank god!” Tai slumped over immediately, rolling out his shoulders. “I think my neck has a crick in it.”

Clover snorted. “Alright drama king. Go take a break.” He turned towards the doorway, calling, “Who’s next up?”

He heard Kali’s faint, “Get in there. And stop messing with your hair!”

A gruff voice he didn’t recognize replied, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Before Qrow Branwen walked into the room and stole his breath away.

Though he’d joked before, Clover hadn’t actually known what the man had looked like. He rarely did see new models before their first shoot. But now that he was, it had to be said that maybe Willow had indeed hired Qrow simply for his beauty. In almost every way, he was like a softer version of his sister. Where her skin was striking alabaster white, his had more of a welcoming ivory tone. Where her eyes were bright scarlet, his were a gentle vermillion. And where her hair was an ink black, his held streaks of dusty grey that somehow was just enough to make him appear refined, but not old.

Combine that with Roman and Neo’s classy “modern early-1900’s” style, and he looked absolutely dazzling. It was one of their simpler pieces, but dress had made sure he wore it well, especially with the plain, long-sleeved, white dress shirt that someone had decided to undo the top few buttons off to frame a cross necklace hanging sideways. Pulled over that and adding some muted color was a double-layered vest that buttoned from the bottom of the ribs down. The inner layer was a slate grey while the outer layer was a deep charcoal and had a tasteful embroidery design flowing down the sides. The matching dark grey slacks were fairly standard but nicely fitting to the man’s ridiculously long legs. Completing the picture were some shiny cap-toed black dress shoes.

“So uh, how do you want me?” Qrow asked, fidgeting with the cross-shaped cufflinks of his shirt.

Splayed across my bed. Clover shook himself of any indecent thoughts, nodding towards the set that mimicked an old parlor room. “Center stage, leaning back on the table.”

He nodded, crossing the room.

As they passed each other, Tai offered a thumb’s up and a cheery, “Good luck!”

The little half-grin Qrow offered his friend left Clover floating.

Not that the other man was going to need any well wishes, as he’d decided on something fairly simplistic. As Qrow took position, he directed, “Alright, I want you to rest your hands on the table, in view. Keep your fingers spread out.”

“Like this?” He settled them by his hips.

“Mm no. Spread your arms further apart. Position your hands the other way, pointing opposite directions. Yeah – like that! A little more for the right hand. Relax your shoulders more. No, no not that much.” And on and on it went, as Clover altered each little angle and body part until he had the exact position in mind. Yet, despite the ease of what he was asking for, Qrow’s inexperience meant he had to spend twice as long getting things just right.

It quickly became clear by his 60th order that the older man was growing a bit exasperated.

Clover eyed him up and down. Hummed thoughtfully at the position of where his ankles crossed, the toe of one dress shoe pointed down. “Okay, tilt your left heel just a bit more.”

“Is all this really necessary?” Qrow grumbled, trying not to move anything else but his foot.

“When the client is picky, yeah. And stop clawing your fingers. Keep them flat.”

The other man breathed in and out slowly, carefully resting down his hands.

He gave him another once over. Frowned.

The tension he could easily see doubled as Qrow demanded, “What now?”

“Maybe we should try something different.” He considered.

The words were met with Qrow groaning out, “You got to be kidding me.”

And Willow cutting in, “Go with it. We got to get this shoot done before noon!”

He glanced at his wristwatch. Shit, was it really almost eleven? He still had four other designs to go. “Yeah, alright. Qrow, just try to relax your muscles a bit.” He rose his camera. “Alright, now smile.”

He did, stretching it as big as he could.

Clover looked at him over the lens, raising a brow. “I said smile, not look like you’re trying to imitate clown make-up.” Ignoring the other’s sarcastic laughter, he mulled it over, then snapped his fingers. “Ah, I know! Give me the same one you gave to Tai when you first walked in.”

He could tell it wasn’t quite right when it didn’t have the same cloud nine effect on him as before, but with the clock ticking in his head, he took the shot.

“Alright, that’ll do.” Clover said.

“We’re done?” Qrow asked, not moving an inch, as if worried he’d change his mind.

“Yep. You’re free as a bird.”

That earned him a real laugh. “That was awful!”

For the hell of it, he took another shot.

~

There was always such a sense of relief when Clover submitted the photos to processing. From there the team would do whatever touch ups were necessary before it went in for print. Normally, the rest of his day was done, but he had another engagement at a rally across town that would keep him busy well into the evening. So, he found himself stepping into the break room, intent on grabbing a cup of coffee and heading on his way.

He was surprised to find Qrow there, huddled in one of the corner tables. He was dressed down, back in his casuals, but still managed to make a t-shirt and some slacks look like runway material. They met gazes briefly, before the elder man’s eyes dropped back to his phone, not saying a word.

Already short on time, Clover was content to leave it like that, but as he finished mixing his coffee together, guilt seeped in. If they were going to be working together, then one of them had to take the first step and it was much harder for the new guy to take it.

“You did good today.” He spoke.

Qrow scoffed. “You kidding? I was a disaster.” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be lucky if they ask me to come back.”

Ah. So, he wasn’t a snob - he was insecure. Clover could work with that.

“Ah come on. It wasn’t that bad.” He crossed the room, turning the opposite chair sideways and falling into it. “You’re just a little stiff. A few more of these and you’ll relax.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and take it a little easy on the people in dress.”

“They were trying to poke my eye out! Whoever invented eyeliner is a demon.”

He guffawed heartily. “It’s not that bad.”

Qrow sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair. “Still, I don’t know what I was thinking, letting Tai convince me to take this job.”

Seemed Tai was doing a lot of that lately.

“I’m not a model. That’s my sister’s gig. And…” Qrow gestured to himself. “I mean, look at me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure it must get tiring getting all those calls from Mr. Universe asking you to come reclaim your crown.” He countered.

“Tch, if anyone’s got a crown to go reclaim, it’s probably you.” A second later, he seemed to realize what he said and hid his face in his hand. “Oh my god, I didn’t just- I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

Clover couldn’t stop grinning. “Relax gorgeous. You’re in the right business to be making comments like that.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t feel so bad, either. You’re not the only one self-conscious around here. Winter? Breaks out before every shoot. James? Has a scar right here.” He ran a finger above the line of his right eyebrow. “And by now, we’ve got to be giving Tai a complex with how much gets altered in processing.”

“He certainly had a lot to say about last month’s issue.”

“Well, you know, we gotta follow those trends and freckles are in.” He was sure there was a lot of talk on the questionable ethics of digitally changing people’s appearances to portray an unobtainable beauty, but it was a topic he wasn’t too interested in engaging with. In the end, it all just came down to the paycheck and keeping people’s jobs. Because if a model couldn’t sell the clothes they were wearing, then they weren’t going to get to keep modeling them.

Qrow leant back, crossing his arms. “Wonder how much they’ll change about me.”

“Well, they’ll definitely take out those cute wrinkles you get around your eyes when you laugh.”

“I wasn’t laughing?”

“Not in the first shot. But I may have…” He shrugged sheepishly. “Taken another one, right at the end? You looked more natural.”

Qrow blinked. “Well. Alright then. Guess that’s why you’re the expert.” His gaze drifted past Clover’s shoulder at about the same time he heard the footsteps. “Hey Tai. All done?”

“Yeah.” The blond replied as he stopped at their table, eyeing him suspiciously. “Hopefully the company flirt wasn’t giving you trouble.”

“Oh sunshine,” Clover drawled, playing it up as he bat his eyelashes at the other man. “I hope you know you’re my one and only.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Save it for the guys actually swinging your way.” He nodded to his friend. “Come on, we better get moving if we want to get the girls on time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Qrow stood. “It was nice meeting you Clover.”

“Same here. Looking forward to working with you.” He replied sincerely. A pleasant little warmth tingled through him when the sentiment earned him an adorable smile.

As he watched him go, Clover cast his earlier worries aside and decided that this truly was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Freeze Frame, Little Victories, Handled

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(Ok this one’s a LONG one, I’ll admit it! But these three chapters-- one Big Boy and two much shorter epilogues-- really go together very well, I didn’t want to separate them. This is one of my favorite parts of book one honestly, so I hope you guys enjoy it too.)

CW: Panic attack

8. Freeze Frame

    There wasn’t really any reason for it, it had just been a very long day. A very long day punctuated, of course, by yet another endless fancy dress event, one Trinity needed out of right now. The problem being that he wasn’t alone at this event. He was used to being the brooding wallflower, the kind of man who was noticed when he needed to be, but who no one would notice if he slipped away. Having Azzy there, even though they’d been to several events together by this point, was a very slight change to his usual strategy that made everything just a touch more difficult. Which meant that, right now, it made everything seem pretty much impossible. Trinity wondered if Azzy had noticed how long it had been since he moved his eyes. Or took a breath. He wasn’t sure himself, and if that awareness was slipping it was really time to go. He couldn’t do this in front of her. 

    “I’ll be right back, dear. Restroom,” he murmured to her, hoping those were the actual words that came out of his mouth. He felt a bit like he was staring at the back of his own head, or watching a vaguely interesting silent film from the back of a drive in theater. He walked away without waiting for a response-- it wasn’t as if he’d hear it, anyway-- making a conscious effort to swing his arms in opposition to his legs as he walked. In his head, he slowly began listing prime numbers, with just enough forethought to pull away from the comm link beforehand. 1. 2. 3. 5. 7. 11. 13? 13. A bead of sweat formed on his temple and rolled slowly down his face. He knew a spot that would be deserted at this time. 17. 19. 23. He turned the corner, and disappeared out of sight from the main ballroom.

    Trinity had left all too quickly. Azure wasn’t used to the crowds quite yet, but something in the urgency with which he left concerned her. The comm had been giving her something like static before it turned off entirely, and he almost never turned that off unless he had to. He liked to know when she was getting nervous. Was the link malfunctioning? She was here, alone, and she didn’t even know where he went. Before she could begin mentally mapping the ballroom out to figure out where the bathrooms even were around here, someone in an all-too-boring suit and his date in a tacky, glittery number walked up. She blinked, plastering a smile on her face. 

    “And to what do I owe the pleasure, Mister…?”

    “Please, just call me James. Where is Trinity? I just saw him around here a minute ago, then he disappeared!” Whoever he was, he seemed friendly. Even if his date was sizing her up something fierce. She ran through her last few events, looking for a James in there somewhere to remember. Maybe she should start sticking around for the tax talk. Oh! This was the one from the security agency. She could field that without fucking it up, he’d mentioned it before. She just had to be really noncommittal. Pretend like she knew anything. That’s how Trinity said he used to do it as a teenager.

    “Trinity’s currently takin’ care of something elsewhere, I’m sure you understand.” She picked her words carefully. “He should be back in a moment, but these things are always so busy, hardly any time to actually get from A to B without some stops in between.” She tried to remember the way Trinity danced his way through small talk to get to the heart of these issues faster. She’d never understood how he did it, but she’d have to try. She tested the comm and got nothing back. “Honestly, I’m sure the borin’ work things can wait until you see him next time. Please, go enjoy yourselves! I’ll gladly let him know y’all came to see him, he’ll be sorry he missed ya.”

    That evasion seemed polite enough for the two of them, as they gave their sincere apologies for not getting to him before he left and went on their merry way. She gave a big exhale, some small sparks shaking off her hands. She shouldn’t stay in one spot or it’d happen again, and this brand of over-polite and accommodating was not her base setting. If she was too formal for too long, she was almost certain she’d begin to chafe. She began a beeline for the refreshments table, eyes always looking out for her date, the stubborn line of her jaw covering for an increasing amount of concern for him. 

    Her shoulder brushed against someone, jostling her from her thoughts slightly. She really only saw a pristine suit and a hand covered in rings. No, that wasn’t something she could handle right now. Too rich for her blood, and literally.

    “Excuse me, my apologies-” was all she offered, continuing on her way. By the time she reached the table, full of wine glasses, she realized too late she’d been followed. But not by the person she’d bumped into. She plastered another smile to her face, picking up a glass and masking her urge to wrinkle her nose at the smell of the wine. She recognized this one: Usually she was with her boy-toy of the week, but today she was alone.

    “Denicia, to what do I owe the pleasure? Where’s that darlin’ blond of yours, or have you broken another young man’s heart within the last week?” She punctuated the sentence with a laugh, making sure it was clear she was telling a joke. Internally, she cringed. She wished Trinity was with her, this was where he’d let out a big breath and quietly note some disheveled detail to pick on to make her leave. She didn’t have the eye for it, nor the vocabulary to really properly pull off that particular exit. That was really more Crim’s thing. Which meant she was stuck.

    “I was about to ask you the same thing, I’ve looked for him everywhere and I simply can’t imagine you’d cut him loose as quickly as I cut mine, Camilla.” The woman gave a smile full of teeth and Azzy wondered if they were fake or if she just had that big of a mouth. No soft chuckle and joke in return. The silence in the comm made her lonely, but she pushed it aside.

    “Oh he’s around. Probably drawin’ up a contract somewhere, you know how he is, always work, no play.” She affected her best pout. This was her least favorite face to put on, the spoiled and slighted lover. If anyone looked at her hands, calloused and scarred, they’d know she was bullshitting, without a doubt, but these people simply weren’t observant or ballsy enough to try and call her on it, and somehow that was worse. 

    “You poor dear, he’ll come around soon I’m sure. Inboxes don’t stay full forever when that’s the pace you work at.” Denicia patted her on the shoulder sympathetically. “I suppose I won’t bother you with my business then, you’ve got a man to locate before he forgets you’re here. Good luck dear!” and with that she whirled around to disappear into the crowd again, leaving behind a thick floral perfume that made Azure gag. She shook out more sparks and gave a long sigh. She had no idea how Trinity had done this on his own for so long. She looked around to see if anyone was watching too closely, and finished her drink in a single gulp. Then she turned, bumping into another someone with way too many rings.

“Oop, my bad, excuse me!”, she offered a small curtsy and continued on her way, beginning her hunt for Trinity anew, wherever he was. A piercing gaze followed her, but with so many sets of eyes on her already, what was one more? She was so, so close to the bathrooms when a man exited. He recognized her, and plodded in her direction. She wanted to groan.

    She knew this one too.

    “Camilla! Powdering your nose I assume? The lady always looks ravishing, I can assure you that from where I’m standing you don’t need to.”

    “Great to see you, Mister Phineas.” She gave a coy smile, keeping an eye on the doors behind him, mentally cataloguing anyone entering and exiting. She prayed Trinity would save her from this one. “Has your evenin’ been kind to you? You seemed to be spinnin’ one helluva yarn when I passed by earlier.”

    Mister Phineas gave a deep belly laugh, and she narrowly kept her smile on well enough to avoid wincing. God, he was so loud. Trinity hadn’t left the bathroom yet, and she wasn’t sure he’d leave her hanging out here if he knew it was Phineas she’d been cornered by.

    “Ah Camilla, that’s more a story for your lad Trinity! Something for us men to share.” He patted her shoulder, and she threw up in her mouth a little. “Where is the boy anyway? I haven’t seen him since the two of you entered.”

    She wanted desperately to just leave. Tell him to fuck off, turn heel and go. He was useless to Trinity by the man’s own admission anyway so a tiny little shock really wouldn’t hurt him too much, with all the insulation he had. Instead of any of that though, she tittered. No point in being violent because someone’s annoying, that would be unladylike at best and evil at worst; her whole reason to be here was making things easier for Trinity. “He’s indisposed, handlin’ some affairs he said just couldn’t wait a minute longer. Shall I pass somethin’ along? I’ve got no idea when he’ll be back around.” She tapped at the comm one more time. Nothing. Ugh.

    “Oh, poor form, leaving a pretty thing like you to wander a wolf’s den like this.” For once she thought maybe Phineas had a point, but she’d never admit that. “I’ll handle my business with him myself, would hate to make you work harder than you need to.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it and she smiled, while internally screaming. He waved and off he went, and she fought the urge to wipe the slime his mouth left on her hand off onto her dress. She looked around.

    Trinity still hadn’t returned. She couldn’t reach him in the comm, and in the minute or so she’d kept an eye on the men’s room, he hadn’t entered or exited. At least out in this hall, she could get a feel for the size of the building. It wasn’t huge, just fancy with a lot of gardens. Trinity wouldn’t leave the building she didn’t think, not if she was going to be stuck here. That left a few stairwell corners and some alcoves she already knew were full of the sort of illicit rendezvous Trinity wasn’t really inclined to. She exited the hall with the bathrooms, knowing full well that’s where the alcoves were and not the stairwells. She took a deep breath and entered the throng, smiling and waving where her attention was drawn but not stopping to converse. Crimson’s voice rang in her head: “If you look purposeful enough, anyone with sense will get out of your way, and anyone without sense should follow suit.”

    So through the crowd she strode, head high, step as sure as she could fake it, a wake of static left behind her every step as she tried to quell her rising concern for Trinity’s well being. Her face was set as neutrally as she could manage, knowing her default was an expression of stubborn irritation. To others, she was a woman on a mission. To herself, she was mentally planning every step she took, desperately praying she’d see him pop up in the corners of her vision.

    She was almost to the set of hallways on the other side of the room when, in her desperate focus to Get To The Other Side Of The Room, she barely registered the bejeweled hand on her shoulder. Internally, she sighed. Externally, she carefully took the hand off her shoulder, barely sparing a long enough glance to be heard. “I’m very sorry sir, I’ve got somethin’ urgent to attend to.”

    “Urgent?” The man lifted a perfect dark eyebrow in a bone-pale and starkly handsome face, and pulled his hand back slowly from where it had been draped in the air after she’d removed it from her person. The nails were painted blood red, and gold and silver rings glinted in the light. His voice was far more polite than any of the others she’d talked to, soft and smooth as silk, but she still really didn’t have time for that. 

    Did I fuckin’ stutter, sir?   

    A slight static from the comm answered her unspoken question, then nothing. 

    “I’m afraid so. I assure you,” she tossed over her shoulder and began walking away, more static in her wake. “I’m a horrible liar.”

    He only blinked. “I believe you.” The words were quiet, but followed her down the hall anyhow. He turned with a flash of purple-- was that a purple velvet suit, really?-- and was out of sight, finally. She fought the urge to stick her tongue out or give a loud sigh or do something, anything to vent the frustration she felt at being stopped again, but she managed to keep it together. She wandered the thinning crowds in the hallway, ascending a set of stairs with purpose to a floor that seemed almost deserted.

    “Trinity?” She called softly, not wanting to alert anyone to his disappearance. If he wasn’t here, she’d look like a crazy person, and she already had enough of that. She stayed quiet and listened over the din of the event downstairs. She didn’t hear anything, but there was a slight shadow down one of the empty hallways, unmoving, but vaguely human shaped. She strode towards the shape, slowing as she went. 

    “Trinity?” she called softly from a few feet away.

    It was him, she could see as she approached. He stood, leaning against the wall in the deserted hallway, perfectly still and unmoving. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. His face was expressionless, gaze vaguely fixed at a point across the hall where the wall met the floor, eyes frozen in place. He hadn’t blinked since she’d been watching him, and her eyes started to water in sympathy. He didn’t react to her presence. After a long moment, he blinked. The movement began and ended in only his eyelids.

    She stopped only a few feet from him, just outside his periphery. She reached a hand out, hesitant. She had no idea what was going on, he’d completely shut her out this whole time. No warning, just silence. If she was honest, she’d been pushing the thought that maybe she’d messed up somehow away all night. But she couldn’t find what she’d done, and it wasn’t like Trinity to give a punishment like the silent treatment. He’d call in a drone strike, or something. Ruin her credit score. Tease her mercilessly until she apologized. She turned off the cybernetics in her arm, reaching for his shoulder.  

    “Terra to Trinity, pagin’ Hotshot. We need you back here on the ground, buddy.” Her voice came out softer than she’d known it could ever be. He was so still. She frowned, glancing around them. No one. He was certainly good at finding hiding spots. She moved into his line of sight. “Trinity, what’s goin’ on?”

    As she got close to him, she could see why it looked like he wasn’t breathing. He was taking incredibly shallow breaths, so much so that his chest and mouth didn’t move at all, and the breaths were coming far faster than was healthy. He didn’t respond to her voice or even to her touch except to blink again— the only hint that any stimulus was reaching him. She’d never seen him do anything even close to this before, he was always so well put together she’d begun to think he was a robot designed exclusively to chat easily with the rich and powerful. She couldn’t piece together what the hell was going on. Was he having a seizure? It didn’t look quite like the ones she’d seen Cadet have, but maybe there were more kinds. Or maybe it was something else. Had something happened to him? She wouldn’t know until either he could talk or passed out, and who knew when that would be. If he was having a seizure she’d know soon enough, and then maybe she’d be able to help. But in the meantime?

    She plopped onto the ground, back resting against the wall as she stretched out to lounge right there on the floor. Her arm was pressed lightly but firmly against his leg. Something to anchor himself to, if he needed to for some reason. She gave an exaggerated yawn. 

    “Yeah I don’t blame you for bein’ quiet, this is stressful. I was downstairs on my own for a fraction of what you usually deal with and I’m already done with it.” She spoke as though he was going to respond, giving his silence some time to fill the air in response. “I ran into Phineas and he left some of his mouth slime on my hand. I think he got….rounder.” She puffed her cheeks out and made a noise one would attribute to a Large Formless Blob. “I think it’s all the shit he talks, he’s swallowing some. The methane’s inflating him AND his ego.”

    She chanced a look up at him before she continued. “I think that probably he’s the worst. He’s just so damn loud. It’s nicer up here. Quiet and you can actually breathe a little without catching someone’s four thousand credit perfume in your mouth. Have you noticed how overdone the smells are? I was thinking about makin’ a little particle-incineratin’ barrier for my nose just to come to these things without havin’ to leave with a headache.”

     A slightly louder inhale and exhale this time. Maybe something… or maybe not. Still, his chest moved a little with the breath, just the slightest twitch. He blinked. She grinned and continued in her lounging, gesturing dramatically. “I mean, how many innocent flowers died in the making of that migraine? How much you wanna bet they don’t even like the smell themselves? It’s the luxury of it all. Poor posies never imagined it would end like that, slathered on a high-falutin’ neck for the drama.” She was trying to be funny, in the hopes he’d maybe smile. She also tried to keep her voice low enough that only he could hear her, even from her ridiculous position splayed out on the floor. She made an attempt at keeping a cadence to her inflection as well. Something easy to follow, soothing.

    His head made a robotic movement, up and down almost imperceptibly as if mimicking the idea of a nod. It seemed like more of an automatic response, something cultivated to try and convince people there was nothing wrong, rather than an indication he understood or processed what she was saying. Not that it would convince anyone, it was the least natural motion she’d ever seen from him, but at least it meant he could hear her. 

    She took a deep breath and moved a little, stretching out in front of him now, right at his feet, still making sure some part of her touched him. She looked around. Still no one, not that it mattered much. This was the most comfort and fun she’d had all night, which really said something about the company they kept at these events. She smiled up at him. “And some of these people are tacky as hell. I have no idea who let them out of the house lookin’ like that. Though I guess honestly I’m not sure who let them out in general, they don’t know how to act right.” She rested her head on a gloved hand, stabilized by her elbow on the floor. She hummed a little in thought. “I wonder what the market would be like for a little robot that tells you when you’ve got a few too many rings on. Absolutely ridiculous, you jack off with that hand?” She lifted her head and counted on her fingers. “I think more than like three per hand is pushin’ it. How do you even lug your own limbs around? Do something useful that’s not stoppin’ me when I’m busy.”

    He actually stopped breathing for a moment at something she’d said in there. Hard to say which part, she’d said a lot of shit. She could ask later. If she remembered. For now she was just looking for something, anything to talk about. “...Yeah, you’re right, it is a little rude not to even try to act like I care.” She continued as if he’d responded to her. “Like I said, I got no idea how you did this on your own for so long. It’s awful. I can only imagine how much more you’d rather be home, curled under a blanket or something. Some hot cocoa instead of this weird champagne with alien fruit in it. I’m not even sure what it is. Do you know of any green fruits with a rind like an orange and the texture of an apple? Tasted awful, and I even double checked, you are supposed to eat it.”

    She was about to barrel on, but some instinct told her to wait. After a moment, Trinity twitched at her side, seeming to struggle for a big enough breath to speak. “Zmenclok.” His voice was empty of all emotion, a blank monotone without inflection. “Antrian fruit.”

    She nodded thoughtfully, a wave of relief crashing over her to hear him speak at all. “The Antrians are a strong people then, because that was the worst fruit I’ve ever put in my mouth by a long shot.” She examined her nails, as though she really cared much. “Left a smell on my hands, I’ve washed them twice already.” She’d also tried to burn the smell off with electricity, but that also hadn’t worked. “I wonder if instead of water soluble sugars, it’s made of something else? That would explain why I hated it, humans might not actually be compatible with the chemical makeup. We’ll know when the bathroom lines reach out to the cars, I suppose.”

    “Uh… huh.” It was almost a sound of agreement, or at least meant to sound like one, with about twelve of those fast, shallow breaths between the syllables. When she glanced up at him, his eyes had gone unfocused and cloudy.

    He could kind of talk, which was good. She didn’t want to push her luck by drawing attention to the state he was pulling himself out of. So she just kept going, starting with a very long, deep inhale and sigh. Maybe he’d get the hint. She usually did when Crim did it, but everyone’s different. “Y’know, I talk a lot of shit, but I do have fun at these sometimes. It’s not the worst thing to look nice and eat weird food. Can’t say I’d recommend the “whole spoonful of just Gensoran caviar” thing but it’s a great story since I’m at these things all the time lately anyway.” She thought for a moment. “The dancin’s pretty alright too. I get some of my best thinkin’ done when I’m not hangin’ upside down, it turns out. I sent off a blueprint to my shop back home, they’re doin’ the rough fabrication for me so I can get the fine tunin’ out of the way on my own. I used to drive ‘em all nuts, gettin’ way too precise.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. She really didn’t think he’d notice. “I kinda miss my mechanics. With just Kelly to watch all of ‘em, I’d hope they can focus hard enough to get anythin’ done.” 

    He might have attempted to follow her example of a deep breath, but he didn’t make it far. His breathing got harsher as she spoke, but no slower or deeper. “A-Az—ure.” He could barely get the word out through his tight, shallow, breaths. His hand closest to her flexed, opening like he was searching for something to grab onto, and she could feel his leg start to tremble against her. He swayed on his feet, unsteady. He was moving now, but it seemed like his frozen state had been compensating for the lack of oxygen he was getting. Any clarity he’d been grasping for answering her questions was fading, and as it did that odd static fuzz picked up through the com again. Somehow, the sound was almost frantic, making her tense up as it invaded her mind.

    She shoved the static away. She could have a secondhand panic at home, with Crim or Perry or something. Priority one: Trinity Jericho does not pass out on the floor of the balcony level stairwell in a ritzy ballroom. Priority two: Trinity Jericho does not get his panic revealed to the general public. In one fluid motion, she got to her feet. Somewhere, a violin bow began a slow trek along its strings. She caught the hand that had been flexing in her own, her other wrapping around his waist as she stepped in close. The same way he’d kept her upright countless times while she was still stumbling around in heels like a newborn giraffe. She was a lot shorter, but her cybernetics kicked in a little to help. Someone walked up the stairs and she gave them a shy smile, brain endlessly working. They passed by with little thought given to the couple dancing in the empty hallway. She thought into the comm, as soothingly as she could.

    Lean in. I’ll lead this time. I promise you’re not heavy. Breathe, Trinity.

    She wasn’t completely sure she was reaching him, but once he had something supporting him at least he could stop fighting so hard to hold himself upright under his own power. Almost his full weight dropped into her, and his head fell to her shoulder. She could feel tiny, hot puffs of air against her neck, as he fought to slow his breathing. His face was still blank of all emotion or expression, but the comm registered his terror— he couldn’t stop, couldn’t control it. His hands twitched, tightening around hers. She gave him a gentle squeeze back.

    Breathe with the music. In-two-three-four, out-two-three-four.

    She continued counting for him, keeping time with the lazy tune playing on the floor below as it floated up to them. She took no real steps, but kept a slow, steady, easy sway. She did the breathing herself, trying to drown his static with her own soothing patterns. Eventually, the rhythm of the swaying and the music started to break through the static— he managed a deep breath in, struggling to release it again as it caught in his chest, until he finally let it all out with a choking exhale. The next time he tried, it was slightly smoother, and he staggered in place. He would have fallen if it weren’t for her arms holding him up. His chest heaved in and out a few more times, and his legs trembled slightly. 

    “I’m. Fine. O—ok.” The words were robotic and clipped.

    “That’s a lie, but you can talk now so I’ll take it.” She continued their swaying, keeping her breathing deep and slow. Her head turned to hide her mouth in his shoulder, away from anyone nearby who might be able to read lips and was piecing it all together. There was no one, realistically, but at this point she also just enjoyed the warmth. “I think I got cornered by every friend you’ve got at these damn things while tryin’ to find you. We can probably dip as soon as you’re ready. They can wait. You can go home, Hotshot. You don’t have to stay on this time.” 

    “Yes. I want to go… soon.” It was like he was reading a teleprompter. They swayed for a bit longer, as his breathing evened out, and after a moment, he tapped her on the shoulder, like he was trying to get her attention. “Can… we sit.” 

    " 'Course we can sit." She slowed them to a stop and let him onto his own two feet as gently as she could, easing him to the ground after that. She flopped down beside him with much less care and ceremony. She nestled herself into his shoulder, just in front of him enough to suggest she was ready to support his weight sitting, if he needed it. "Better?"

    He braced himself against the wall as he slid to the floor. In the back of her mind, through the comm, she could hear what sounded vaguely like numbers, prime numbers, she realized after a moment. Soon enough, they stopped, and he took in another trembling breath. “Yes. Better.” He still didn’t sound like Trinity. It was hard to hear him sound so... absent. “I’m. Coming back.” He paused. “Know where I am. Sorry I… left.”

    She leaned into him gently, lounging as casually as you can in a floor length gown. If he'd been mentally present, she'd have looked like a really old Terran lounge singer. All she was missing was a piano. Her mouth curved into its standard lopsided smile. "If you were just dealin' with what I think you were, I can't say I blame ya for dippin' out. Not exactly fun, Crim's told me." She rolled her shoulder a little. "I wasn't kiddin', you know. I managed to excuse you from the clutches of three of our favorites for the night. We really can just go home once you're back to basics."

    He nodded stiffly, before letting his head loll back against the wall, as if he couldn’t quite hold it up on his own. “Panic attack. No reason. Just too much.” He pressed his hands to the cold tile of the floor, seeking something to feel. “In… a minute. I want to leave. Soon, I can… fake it. Enough to get out.”

    She nodded back, eyeing another set of people making their way up the stairs. She sat up straight, shielding him from view, leaning in a little farther than she might normally, even for what she was here to pretend to be. "Take your time, Trinity." She whispered quietly. He couldn't really keep up an act right now, so she was going to have to put up twice as much. Sorry about this. I'm going to touch you, I'll try to make it as little as I can. She settled her arms around him, head on his shoulder. Her face said adoration while her eyes betrayed the thought involved as she tried to keep the touch as minimal as she could.

    A shudder ran through him as the sounds of the other couple reached them, and his green eyes stared through Azzy instead of at her even as she leaned in close to shield him from their view. His breathing had begun to speed up just slightly, but he managed to at least keep it steady and deep with the help of a quiet chant of prime numbers that slipped into the back of her mind from his, clearly a strategy he had to keep focus and not fall back into whatever empty place he’d been before. 

    The passersby soon left their immediate vicinity, and Azzy pulled away from him slowly. With Crim, there was a 50/50 chance she'd be forbidden from moving and letting him go after a panic attack, so she wanted to give Trinity the option, if he could tell that's what was being offered. She searched his body language for what he needed, other than an opportunity to leave. She briefly wondered if just breaking down a wall and making their own door was that bad of a plan. 

    Trinity made no move to keep her in place, and his body language, like his face, was so still and blank that she couldn’t glean much of anything from it. She wondered what in his life had taught him to panic like this— silent and so absolutely contained that he nearly ceased to exist entirely. She took a deep breath, letting herself also slump against the wall and, for the first time since she found him like this, she looked away. Her eyes remained fixed on the stairwell, quietly willing the partygoers below to stay away as she continued to count the beat of the current song. She took herself away from being pressed to him entirely, giving him some few inches of space. Her part in this was done. All that was left was to wait it out. He’d pulled away from the comm again, closing his thoughts off, but she could hear him breathing steadily behind her as he pulled a bit more fully back to himself. 

    It took a few minutes, but eventually she heard movement behind her as Trinity shifted, clearing his throat. “Alright. I think I should be ready to go now, as long as we don’t have to stop and talk to anyone.” His voice moved up and down in a manner very similar to its usual inflection, but somehow after witnessing what she just had she could tell that it was all very intentional. It wasn’t his real voice, just a very clever approximation that would probably fool anyone who didn’t know him very well. With luck, it would be enough for them to make it out of the building. She got the feeling that it wasn’t going to get any better than this as long as they were still in the place where it had happened.

    She stood and brushed herself off, rolling her shoulder and setting her jaw in its usual stubborn position. She offered him her hands to pull him to standing. “I’ve got it on the way out. Smile and nod like I’m sure you were plannin’ on anyway.”

    In response, he simply smiled. Very convincing, except his eyes were still faraway and empty. “Of course. I’ve had to do this a couple of times before.” He didn’t say ‘alone,’ but she knew what he meant. It was maybe as close to a thank you as he could manage to get out right now. She gave a slightly sadder smile in response. She’d always been easy to read. It made her easy to talk to. Eyes becoming steely, she pulled him up. 

    “Okay, let’s go back to hell.”

    “Already there.” He gave that same empty smile and followed.

    She took his hand in hers and led him down the stairs. The difference from the lazing, relaxed person who’d just sat with him and held him literally upright, to the person leading him through the throng of the rich and forgettable was astounding. She’d never walked this tall at an event before, each step falling exactly where she’d intended it to. In her head, she tracked where she’d entered from, where there were the fewest people they knew and where there were the fewest people in general. She kept an eye out for people who’d been looking for him, breezing past Phineas without him sparing either of them so much as a glance. The usual easy gracefulness she was trying for was replaced with a purposeful stride, static in the air where she stepped.

    She really just wanted to leave as soon as possible. Her brother’s voice rang in her head once more: “People with sense will get out of your way”. She hoped he was right, Trinity needed some fresh air at least. She wove through the crowds, exchanging passing pleasantries through kilowatt smiles and an ever so slightly played up drawl. Trinity barely had to look at who she was speaking to. 

    Somewhere along their way, so close to the exit, she turned a bit quickly, bumping into someone in a purple suit with an overabundance of jewelry. She heard the tinkle of breaking glass and the splash of liquid scattering from the broken cup. The man she’d just spilled wine on looked up from the tablet he’d been occupied with, his face, which might have been familiar had she bothered to think about it, written over with genuine surprise. Trinity’s hand tightened on hers, and she could feel his pulse pounding where his wrist pressed close to hers. She gave a quiet noise of surprise before collecting herself and trying to mind her manners without getting trapped by conversation. “My bad, s’cuse me sir-” She quipped out as she pushed past, pulling Trinity with her without a second thought, stride still sure. Was his breathing starting to speed up again? All the more reason to get out as fast as possible.

    When they finally made it through the doors with no further issues and reached the empty stretch of driveway the car had been called to, Trinity dropped her hand and took a few more breaths to calm himself down again. He didn’t always trust what he saw in this state, but…

    “Oh God,” He muttered, his voice dropping back into its low monotone. “Tell me he’s not following. I can’t…” words failed him, and he rubbed his hands together, trying to generate some feeling. He prayed the car would arrive soon. She looked behind them. No one.

    “No one followed us, Hotshot. What’s got you bent outta shape again? I said excuse me.” Her words were callous, but she sounded genuinely concerned. She thought she’d done well, and he certainly seemed like he had more important things to worry about than her being a little rude on accident.

    “I know.” He took in a breath too fast, and forced it to exit more slowly. “But he’s too observant. I can’t let him see… this. You-- you know how he is, don’t you.” It should have been a question, but the phrase didn’t go up at the end to indicate it.

    She raised a brow, moving to touch his shoulder lightly, hoping to steady him on his feet a little better and give him something to ground with. “Tacky?” She, again, sounded genuine, making a little joke to lighten this bizarre mood they’d cooked up.

    He turned to face her, and somehow her response shocked an actual expression out of him, his eyes slightly widened. “Azure. That man was…” a very slight twitch of the corner of his mouth, like this was something he really didn’t want to address. “My employer.”

    Her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ the moment the final syllable was out. It closed a moment later, and her brow furrowed, guilt all over her features. “That really is a problem then, ain’t it? Shit Trinity, I’m sorry. I was just tryin’ to get us both outta there. It’s not like its exactly my forte, bein’ in crowds.” She ran her hand through her curls, bunching them up at the base of her neck. Her hands sparked some but she didn’t shake them out. “Still I’m...shit, I’m sorry.”

    He took a few calming breaths, trying to look reassuring, but he was clearly still struggling to be expressive. “It’s alright. He… didn’t notice anything. Won’t bother with it… once it’s not interesting anymore.”

    Azzy bit back her Sounds like a real peach to know comment, only to realize a moment later she still had her comm in, and the sardonic tone was not subtle. She cleared her throat. “As long as you’re fine. I don’t exactly have a lot to fear from ‘im, so if you think you’re fine then you probably are.”

    “I’m not afraid of him.” He sighed slightly and glanced down the road impatiently, waiting for the car to arrive. “But showing weakness is dangerous.”

    Somehow, Azure managed to say nothing for long enough to choose her next words carefully. “Guess it’s good I didn’t see anythin’ then.” Her mouth molded the words in such a way that when they left her mouth, they carried the clear reminder she was technically a vigilante by trade as well as a cybernetic engineer: She was offering him the option to ask her to forget. To ignore the whole night, act like it had never happened. Nothing gained, nothing lost. Just a black box of a night she’d never bring up again.

    He looked at her, putting together her meaning. After a moment, he gave a slow nod of his head. His eyes held hard steel that said he understood, and a flash of gratitude that she assumed was the last indication she’d get that anything happened, before he turned away again. 

    “I appreciate your company at these events, Azure. It certainly serves its purpose.”

    She simply nodded in understanding as the car finally pulled up the drive, jewelry glinting in the moonlight and features placid. Face blank. Like nothing had happened. She glanced around to make sure there wasn’t anyone outside, before opening the door for him. A friendly gesture. 

    He smirked at her, this one closer to genuine than she’d seen all night, as he got into the car. “What a gentleman. Come on, you have to get back to the ship.”

    She rolled her eyes and got in the car herself. “The lady’s in a rush to be rid of me. Forsooth, my heart. It breaks.” His smirk reflected back at him. He smacked her shoulder lightly as she got in, and the car finally pulled away from the event, headed for home.

9. Little Victories

    Azzy’s feet hit the cold metal of the ship over and over, shoes in one hand and excessive skirt bunched high in the other as she ran clear across the entire crew quarters level from the entrance, leaving a trail of static in her wake. She’d long since abandoned any idea of propriety now that she was back on her own home turf. Her run stopped at the end of the hall, where hers, her brother’s, Periwinkle’s, Indigo’s, and Smalls’ cabins were clustered. Breathless and eyes alight with excitement, she knocked on Perry’s door, finally doubling over to pant and wait for them to answer.

    The door opened on Perry’s confused face. “Azure, what—?”

    Azzy stood up straight once the door opened, beaming if a little embarrassed by her own energy. “I want you to guess what I did today, you’ll think it’s hilarious.”

    “Ok, well…” they blinked at her, clearly baffled. “You were off the ship today. With a ‘friend,’ wasn’t it?” It was an affectation— many of the people on the ship had figured out at this point where Azzy went when she was planetside and who she was with, and Perry specifically had probably known since date number two, but it was an unspoken rule to pretend they didn’t. 

    Azzy rolled her eyes at the implication. Trinity was a friend, and a good one. Even if he was, by every account, very shady. So were all of them, so who were they to talk? She pushed the retort back in favor of continuing to beam. “I ran into Fate. Quite literally, I might add. Spilled wine on him, heard the “oh!”, all of it. Ruined his shirt, I guarantee you, maybe that awful purple suit too. Not sure he knew it was me, because I sure as hell had to be told who he was. Why didn’t you tell me he was so tacky?”

    Perry blinked, expression caught somewhere between abject terror and the sort of expression one might make after being smacked upside the head with a brick— and then he laughed out loud, the sound ringing down the halls of the ship. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned all those goddamn rings at least once.” She grinned, sharklike. “Bumping into him, spilling on his shirt, and worst of all, not knowing who he was? That sounds like his worst nightmare.”

    Azure loved seeing her friend smile. Made her all fuzzy inside. She grinned back. “I think I might have blown him off a few more times before that too. I was tryin’ to find my date and he just kept puttin’ himself in my path. Like I didn’t have better things to do. I’m a livin’ taser, he’s lucky he wasn’t fried. I was already anxious as hell, it was more than possible.” She gave a little yawn. “Anyway, I’m beat. Have fun eatin’ puddin’ with my brother.”

    Perry’s soft chuckle followed her down the hall as she left.

10. Handled

    It didn’t hit Trinity until much later that night what exactly Azure had done while he’d been… incapacitated. He knew he was still far too anxious to sleep, no matter how exhausted he was, so he’d taken the advice he vaguely remembered from while Azzy’d been chattering to him earlier that evening and wrapped himself in a blanket on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate. There was no need to wake up his sister this late-- he’d just sleep tomorrow. 

    He’d already had the cocoa made when he remembered that it was Azure who’d mentioned it in the first place, and as he’d sat and slowly unraveled his tangled, panic laden memories of the night, he’d begun to piece together everything else she’d said and done. The first thing was how she’d handled finding him in that state. Others who’d stumbled upon him in the past had done everything from trying to shake him out of it to calling an ambulance, and not one had actually been helpful. He knew his attacks were strange and unfamiliar even to people who had ones of their own, but she’d simply waited, using sound and touch to bring him back until she could see what he needed. In some ways, he barely knew her, and yet she’d helped him out of it more quickly and painlessly than anyone except perhaps his sister ever had. How had she known, and honestly, why had she bothered? He’d almost believed she would just leave once he disappeared for long enough.

    The next fact that rose to his mind as he considered everything else she’d said was the reason they’d been able to leave so quickly in the first place. Not only had she expertly hidden his compromised state from passerby while he recovered, but she’d been on her own in the crowds the whole time he’d been gone. He had no real concept of how long that had been, but it was impressive at any amount. Not only had she been able to wade through the masses of humanity successfully, she’d apparently expertly handled each business partner or contact he’d been meant to speak with tonight, to the point that not a single person had accosted them or vied for Trinity’s attention on the way out. Even the run-in with Fate, as stressful as it had been at the time, he was sure had been purely accidental. This one night alone had given Trinity more confidence in Azzy’s ability to conduct herself well at these events, more than any dancing improvement or small talk or perfect dinner etiquette. More than that, it was yet another example of something she absolutely didn’t have to do, but did anyway, for a reason he couldn’t puzzle out.

    The final piece to the puzzle was her very last gift to him as they waited for a car-- an unspoken promise to forget this moment of weakness, never to bring it up again. It was easy to forget the real business she was in sometimes, that she traveled with a ship of vigilantes with checkered and secretive pasts and plenty of issues of their own. It was unlike him, but somehow he felt he could trust her with that weakness. Not only did he believe her when she said she would treat it as though it never happened, but he wasn’t afraid of it coloring her interactions with him. Even subconsciously. His memories of the night were still hazy and sorting through them was exhausting and painful work, but if he knew one thing, it was that he could trust Azure. If he’d thought it before, now he was sure. 

    Trinity pulled his blanket tighter around himself and took a sip of cocoa. She was right, this was much better than being in a crowded ballroom. He should do this more often.

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