#I am practicing figure skating but courses for adults again are hard to find

[boneless-mika]

I wish I could go diving but unfortunately I’m terrified of fish, I couldn’t handle going into their home

[heartsywritesthethings]

Sk8: The Sleepover

Author: GA!babe

Summary: The gang’s all here for a sleepover at Reki’s! In a discussion of skate names, Reki finds himself the center of attention after getting flustered by the mere mention of the word “tickle” (2,842 words)

“Langa! Glad you came!” Reki exclaimed as he opened the door to find his best friend standing there. 

And then he looked behind the boy and saw…four other people right behind him.

“Uh, what are they doing here?” Reki asked, trying not to sound too rude, but it’s not like he wanted to invite two grown men, a clown, and a literal child over to his house as well. It was just supposed to be him and Langa tonight.

“Oh, well when you told me that your mom and sister were out of town for some mother-daughter bonding, I thought it would be nice if everyone came along.” Langa said with a smile. It made Reki wonder again why that smile made his heart flip flop. This boy? The one with a pile of snow in place of a brain?

“That’s not a problem, right, Reki?” Miya asked, snaking himself around Langa’s legs and looking up at the red head with his big puppy-dog eyes. 

Reki took a deep breath.

“No, of course not. Come on in,” Reki sighed and took a small step aside so everyone could walk into his house. The house that he wasn’t supposed to have anyone else in while his mother and sister were away. That one. 

“Nice place you have here, Reki. I’m sure the ladies love a humble man who lives with his mom,” Joe teased on his way in, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“Just so you know, Carla said there was a 95% chance that we were seen by one of your neighbors. I hope you aren’t grounded for too long after your mother finds out,” Cherry said as he slid by.

“Thanks for telling me,” Reki whined, his shoulders slumping. Great. Now it was almost guaranteed that he would be grounded when his mom got back.

“Wait, you’re not allowed to have people over? Why didn’t you say so?” Shadow hissed, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was outside looking at him.

“Well, that’s not exactly–” Langa began.

“What kind of flowers does your mom like? I can get her a vase before she even gets home,” Shadow continued. taking out a little notepad from his pocket and waiting for a response.

“Uh, she likes lillies I think?” Reki said with a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Shadow scribbled it down with a frown.

“Not exactly the best of apology flowers, but I’ll see what I can do,” the older man grumbled as he stepped into the house.

“Sorry for ruining your date night, Reki. Sleepovers are fun though. Do you think we should braid each other’s hair?” Miya said, popping a bubblegum bubble as he also walked into the house.

“Date?” Reki squeaked, his face turning a rather nice shade of pink. Miya just laughed as he skipped towards the couch.

“You will not get your little claws on my hair!” Cherry snapped from the other room.

And then he was alone with Langa. The guy he had wanted here…alone in the house. 

“Sorry, was I not supposed to invite them over?” Langa asked, smiling awkwardly. Reki couldn’t help but melt just a little. How could he say no to that face?

“Ah, no, you’re fine. I just forgot to ask for them over too. I just got, uh, busy with a new…new board! Yeah! Thanks. You saved me the trouble.” Reki stammered awkwardly, shuffling on his feet. Langa smiled softly and their shoulders bumped as he stepped in. 

Reki closed the door with a sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

~ ~ ~

“Alright, what are we going to watch?” Miya asked, jumping onto the couch, quickly getting comfortable against the pillow in the corner.

“Watch? This is a party, right? We drink and play games until dawn!” Joe announced, sitting down on the couch and stretching his arms high over his head. 

“You’re an idiot,” Cherry huffed, looking around with a barely concealed look of disgust. He looked between the couch, chair, and love-seat, before deciding that he was perfectly fine standing right here thank you very much. 

“I’m an idiot? I’m just trying to make things fun around here!” Joe exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone agreed with him. 

“Did you forget how old he was? He’d get in more trouble if his mom found empty sake bodies around the house,” Shadow huffed as he took his spot next to Joe. The burly man scowled at being sat next to a clown, but he didn’t protest too much. 

“Well, there’s only so long she can ground me.” Reki chuckled before plopping down on the nearby love-seat. Langa sat down next to him, not at all bothered by how incredibly close they were.

“I’m sure she won’t be too mad, Reki,” Langa said and pat his friend on the back. 

“Well, if we can’t drink, then why exactly are we here? What are we going to do?” Joe groaned, dragging a hand down his face dramatically.

“What were you expecting? He was probably going to play spin the bottle with his new boyfriend, right Reki?” Miya teased, a shit eating grin on his little face. “Maybe swap spit and make babies?”

“Miya, do you know how–?” Joe began before Shadow smacked him in the face with a heavy pillow.

“I will not be explaining that on my night off,” Shadow grumbled with a shake of his head. Reki and Langa stifled their giggles, giving each other matching looks.

“What? What’s so funny?” Miya hissed, his face turning pink as he realized that there was something that the adults knew that he definitely wasn’t aware of.

“You’ll know when you’re older,” Cherry said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

Reki laughed even harder at that. 

“Stop it, guys! What is it? What did I say?” Miya whined, crossing his arms over his chest and just outright pouting. He had been bullied in school before, but this felt different. Sure, they were laughing, but there was no real malice behind it.

“We are not doing this tonight,” Shadow groaned, “Why can’t we just find monopoly or something?”

Reki laughed harder, leaning back against the back of the love-seat. Langa looked up and down the red-head.

“Really tickled over there, aren’t you Gearhead?” Cherry mused. 

Reki’s laughter dissolved into a coughing fit.

“Wh-what?” Reki spluttered, his face turning an even brighter shade of bright red. 

“What? Not Gearhead? Gears? Sunshine?” Cherry mused, finally sitting down, but on the arm of the couch. 

“Those are all terrible skate names. How about Mech? TechDeck?” Joe chimed in.

“Oh, and Joe is such a cool skating name?” Cherry scoffed.

“With all this going on? Keeping it simple is how the ladies don’t get too overwhelmed by my awesomeness,” Joe shot back, flexing his arms for everyone to see.

“We could call him Fire? Opposite of Snow there?” Shadow said with a wink in Langa’s direction. This was the type of teasing that he could get behind because it wasn’t some complicated nonsense that he would have to explain to a child.

“How about Red? Like his face when you said that word?” Miya said, getting up off of the couch and sauntering over to where the two teenagers were sitting. 

“Gearhead?” Langa asked, looking between Reki and the sly cat-like boy who was stalking his way over to them.

“Tickle.” Miya said plainly. Reki went an even brighter shade of red, closely resembling his own hair at the moment.

“Wh-What? I was just…thinking that Gearhead was such a stupid name that-uh…I dunno. It was ridiculous,” Reki said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“I am insulted by that, Reki. Nicknames are incredibly important on the S. You’ll need to figure something out so that you’re not in Snow’s shadow every time to you step on a board.” Cherry said. Now he was the one pouting.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, Cherry. It was just–” Reki continued, glancing between Miya and Cherry. 

“He’s just too shy to admit that the word tickle got him all bothered like this,” Miya said smugly and jumped onto the arm of the love-seat.

“Why would something like that bother you, Reki?” Langa asked, all innocent, but Reki could swear he could see evil behind those bright blue eyes. 

“It doesn’t bother me. I think Miya is just upset that we teased him a little.” Reki insisted, feeling like he was just a piece of red juicy meat and his friends just all turned into starving lions. 

He could practically feel his skin buzzing.

“You sound really defensive, kid.” Joe said, leaning forward with a smirk on his face. “Are you that ticklish?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” Miya said and jumped forward–

Only to be stopped by Langa. Reki cowered with a squeak, pressed hard against the back of the love-seat.

“As much I would love to see Reki tickled to pieces, it’s not very fair if we all gang up against him like this, don’t you guys think so?” Langa asked, looking around. Reki sighed in relief at first before realizing what exactly the former snowboarder had said.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, shaking his head frantically.

“And how do you propose we do that, Snow?” Cherry asked, now definitely intrigued as to how exactly the blue-haired boy planned to get Reki in a puddle of giggles. 

“Without killing him of course,” Shadow added with a pointed look. Sure, he liked to cause chaos and make people laugh (especially as his clown skater persona) but five against one was a bit much. 

“Sure, we can play a regular party game.” Langa said with a shrug and turned to his friend and a pouting cat-boy. “Reki, truth or dare?”

Reki looked around and huffed.

“Truth.” He said with a small nod. No way he would say dare after all that nonsense about the damn t-word.

“Alright, where’s your most ticklish spot?” Langa asked calmly.

How the hell could Langa say shit like that without blushing?

“I don’t want to play this game. It’s rigged.” Reki grumbled. Now he was red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. After he let all of these hooligans into his house when he knew he would be grounded later… they treat him like this? Totally uncool.

“Alright, how many of us do you think you could handle tickling you? Surely you’re not that ticklish, Red.” Miya teased and stuck out his tongue.

“And what about you, Miya? You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?” Shadow asked, looking between Miya and Reki.

“You never answered the question, Reki.” Langa said with a smirk on his face. 

“Alright, fine. You guys are bullies.” Reki huffed. “I don’t have any. You all are just wasting your time. Why don’t we pop a movie or something in the–”

And just like that, Langa was on top of him. He was shoved to the very corner of the love-seat with Langa practically straddling his waist.

“You can’t lie during the game, Reki. That’s not how you play,” Langa said with a shake of his head. “Where should we test out first?”

“Langa, come on, don’t do this. I’ll teach you a new skateboarding trick if you let me go right now. Maybe even make you some of my special ramen,” Reki rambled, kicking his feet out on the couch as he scrambled to get away. Langa snatched both of Reki’s wrists and pulled them above his head.

“Miya, would you be so kind to hold onto these for me?” Langa asked sweetly. 

“With pleasure,” Miya hummed, grabbing Reki’s wrists and holding them as tight as he could. 

“I would also like to join in on the fun!” Joe said, jumping up from the couch and running over to where the others were getting ready to tear Reki apart.

“Alright, you guys have five minutes, and then you have to let him go.” Shadow said, laying down on the now empty couch and getting comfortable. He took out his phone and pulled up the timer app.

“Five minutes?” The four said in unison, though Reki was more upset with how long time seemed to pass when he was getting tickled to all hell. 

Not that it happened often, mind you, but before he had skateboarding, he had more friends and those friends definitely took advantage of how ticklish he was time and time again. 

It had really been a while since he had been tickled to pieces and a part of him was…excited? Maybe?

No, that couldn’t be right.

“Time starts now,” Shadow said as he pressed the start button.

Langa went first, poking and prodding at the exposed belly of his best friend. Reki grit his teeth, refusing to let them get the satisfaction of hearing him break right away. Maybe if he doesn’t laugh, they’ll get bored.

Was Reki sure that he wanted them to get bored?

Joe snatched up the red-head’s legs and put his ankles into an armlock.

“Trying the tough-guy act, huh, Red-Mech?” Joe asked, swiping a finger down Reki’s foot. 

Reki yelped, jerking his legs. His heart sank as he realized that he could barely move as they all held onto him.

Then came the pinches up his ribs.

“How many ribs do you think you have, Sunshine?” Langa asked as he pinched up and down Reki’s ribs. 

“I-ACK! Stop! Lahahnga! Quit!” Reki gasped, a laugh managing to escape as he pleaded for his ticklish life. 

“Was that a laugh I heard, Ticklee?” Miya asked from his perch on the arm of the love-seat.

“What’s that nickname?” Langa asked as he continued to squeeze up and down Reki’s ribs as if he weren’t completely tormenting him right now.

“Oh you know, like how you’re the tickl-er, that must mean he’s the tickl-ee, right?” Miya asked sweetly.

“Shuhuhut up!” Reki exclaimed. He didn’t know what was worse. Was it the teasing with the actual word, or the fact that Langa seemed to not care about all of this? 

And Joe decided to chime in again, but this time lightly scratching his fingernails up an down Reki’s arches. Just as Langa decided to zero in on his other weak spot too. Well, weaker. 

Now that the truth was out, they would all know that Reki was just one big walking tickle spot.

However, Langa just found that Reki’s underarms were insanely ticklish, just like the bottoms of his feet. Just as Joe had started on his arches, Langa decided to lightly scratch under his arms too, one finger under each as if he were testing the waters.

“AH! OHOHOHOHOKAY! Okay!” Reki barked, his whole body jerking and his head thrown back.

“Wow, okay what?” Langa asked teasingly, stopping his tickling as he realized the hefty reaction from his friend was because of what he and Joe had done.

“Alright, you got mehehe,” Reki said and tugged on his arms.

“You still have four minutes, Firetop,” Shadow chimed in from his spot on the couch.

“How about just one more minute, Shadow? I think we found the answers we were looking for,” Langa said smugly. Shadow nodded and changed the timer. If they were going for the death spots, it would only be fair to Reki for them to shave off a few minutes.

“You’re no fun, Snow.” Miya huffed.

“And you are definitely next, kitty,” Langa said with a pointed look at Miya. He then turned to Joe. “You ready?”

“Of course. I’m waiting for you kids to finish with whatever. ” Joe said before getting back into it.

For one full minute, Reki was in ticklish heaven hell. Langa altered between digging his thumbs into Reki’s armpits and lightly tickling around Reki’s neck and ears while Joe tickled and scratched up and down Reki’s poor defenseless feet.

When the timer ran out, Shadow snatched Miya up and tossed him playfully onto the couch. Cherry snatched Joe by the ear and pulled him away from a giggling mess of a skateboarder. Langa pulled himself off too, but Reki grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled himself closer. 

“Alright, your turn,” Shadow said as he began tickling little Miya to pieces, mainly clawing at and around the little monster’s belly button, getting him cackling in no-time.

“Now I’m in a tickle monster mood, what do you think, Cherry? Like old times?” Joe asked before diving on top of him and digging into the pink-haired man’s hips. Soon, Cherry and Miya’s laughter and giggles filled the living room as Reki curled up in Langa’s lap and watched the scene unfold. Langa ran his fingers through the red hair of his tickled out best friend.

“Thanks for inviting everyone, Langa,” Reki hummed sleepily. “But I’m definitely going to get you back for this one.”

“Alright, Sunshine,” Langa said and fluttered his fingers by Reki’s ear. The red-head squeaked and scrunched his shoulders up protectively.

[rika-kihira]

Rika Kihira - Canon interview

original interview here.

Rika Kihira interviewed by Mika Noguchi 

“I will spend this off-season being strict to myself so I can believe in myself at the Olympics.”

Rika Kihira, successfully landed the quad Salchow jump at the Japan Nationals.  She finished in 7th place at the World Championship, but she had finished 2nd after her good performance for the SP. 

She has turned this bitter experience into motivation for further improvement. And she has already started to move forward.

Q: You have entered Waseda University and enrolled in the department of Human Science this April.  Is there any research field that you are interested in, or (do you have) a goal as a college student?

I have a strong desire to do any research that is related to my skating after all.  That is the reason why I chose this specific field so I can use my research for my skating.  Unfortunately, I couldn't attend the entrance ceremony because it was right after I had returned from the World Championship, and the classes have already started from April.  

I enjoy studying about the relation of children’s health and environment to their athletic ability.  Unlike adults, there are still some areas for children where their thinking does not function.  So this is the area we analyze what kind of behaviours they would do and how do they improve their athletic ability.

Q: In terms of the environment for children’s physical activity, would you think it’s possible to apply your own life experience that you have been trying various sports from childhood?

I haven’t thought about making use of my childhood experience yet, but I feel that I am experimenting with my own body and that leads to my daily research.  When I check my body condition such as fatigue, various movements and success rate of jumps and compare them to previous data, I often have my aha! moment by that.  So I would like to do research that can be used for skating in future.

Q: The fact that you are experimenting with your own body is something that only top athletes can do.  What kind of research do you want to apply to skating specifically?

After all, I want to think about my jumps theoretically.  I'd like to do something like graphing and analyzing things that can be quantified, such as the changes of heart rate while skating the program, the difference between when I’m tired or energized, and how does the quality of sleep affect my performance—things like that.

If properly converted into data and accumulated,  you can objectively see what you have experienced in the competition and then you can understand the reason and meaning of success and mistakes.

I haven't fully understood the university system yet, so I would like to look for an opportunity to find out how to conduct a study with my own body effectively.

Q: It has been an unusual season that you were training in Switzerland as your main training base in the middle of the pandemic.

There were times when I struggled to keep my motivation high.  Because all the competitions I had planned to attend got cancelled until last December, I didn’t have any chance to show what I had been training for and I also didn’t get to do intense training. 

There was also a time when I couldn't enjoy training because there had been no chance to feel a sense of accomplishment. But the training environment in Switzerland was very good in that I could naturally have a feeling of gratitude.  I could somehow manage to let the difficult time go by with that feeling (of gratitude). 

Q: It seems that your life in Switzerland gives you a very positive effect, doesn’t it Kihira-san?

I usually felt stressed before the competitions, thinking about the competitions all the time or connecting every single thing happening to negative feelings and thinking, “Oh...I don’t think I can make it at the competition either.” But now I feel that the current environment in Switzerland made me think more positively.

During the off season especially, the training was very difficult, so I didn't have to worry if I wasn't doing my best.  Each day I started feeling a sense of accomplishment when I felt my whole body was exhausted (after the training).  Although we had a very intense training menu, it wasn’t so difficult to push myself together with my friendly team mates while being surrounded by nature in Switzerland. 

Q: You landed the quad Salchow jump for the first time at the Japan Nationals last December.  With this success, was there any change to your mind about going into the World Championship? 

It was difficult for me to gain confidence about myself so easily just because I had landed a quad jump for once.  So I wasn't really able to feel excited for the World Championship.  But when I arrived in Stockholm and entered the venue, I felt like "I've done what I could do and I want to show what I've been training in front of everyone naturally”.

Q: At Worlds, you landed triple Axel jump and had a good start with 2nd after SP.  

I was determined to perform with gratitude for many people who supported me until now.  I received all the support from my coaches, my fans, and my family. I had no choice but to show my gratitude there when I went to jump (the triple Axel).  And I also wanted to confirm my love for figure skating by landing the jump successfully at the competition.

Q: Only a few female skaters have been able to do both triple Axel and other quad jumps. Do you find it (being able to jump 3A and quads) significantly difficult?

Actually, the triple Axel is more difficult to stabilize since it is a kind of jump that really depends on the ice condition.  So the timing for the jump take-off may easily change because of the position of the blades or the softness of the ice.

And the quad Salchow on the other hand, I do feel it is relatively stable even at the different rinks.  So I think that the triple Axel is a slightly unique jump.

Q: Is there any difficulty in balancing the two types of these difficult jumps?

I don't think the triple Axel is becoming [more] difficult after I've landed the quad Salchow.  But as I practiced it more, I found that jumping triple Axel followed by quadruple Salchow in one program is difficult compared to just doing each jump alone.

I think the fact that there are only a few female skaters who can do both types of jumps is because they tend to get mixed up on how to use their body for each jump.

For me, if I continue my training everyday so that I can do run-through without any mistakes, there will be less difficulties to do these jumps.

Q: There were expectations for you to challenge the quad Salchow and the triple Axel for FP at the World Championship.

I was practicing the quad Salchow during the official practice in the morning practice on the day of the free program. But soon after the official practice, they switched the rink for FP from the sub rink to the main rink. (t/n: it seemed that official practice was held at the sub rink that was supposed to be used for FP.)  Accordingly, I only had 6 minutes practice for the last chance to adjust myself to the ice. I thought I couldn’t make it in time so I decided to go with two triple Axels instead of a quad Salchow (and a triple Axel).” 

It was difficult for me to adjust to the ice in just 6 minutes, but I think there will be such a situation at the Olympics.  In order to jump the quad Salchow and the triple Axel at the competition, I really felt the importance of the training to adjust myself immediately in just 6 minutes.

Q: What kind of training do you want to do in order to adjust yourself and be able to jump both the quad and the triple Axel in just 6 minutes?

I was always checking my jumps starting from triples (and then quads) in order during 6 minutes practice, but at the World Championship, 6 minutes ended when I just finished checking my triple Axels twice.

As I’m including the quad jump into my program regularly, I feel that I need my triple jumps to be ready for the performance without having to check on them during the 6 minutes practice.  I would like to do more training to increase the stability of triple jumps on a daily basis.

Q: You mentioned that you did well with your mental control at the World Championship.

Yes.  I think I was able to relax rather than feel nervous.  From my experience, I started to understand that I’m unable to perform well when I'm nervous, so I feel that I've figured out how to concentrate and relax clearly.

Q: Is it quite different from the way you concentrated before?

For example, if I’m getting nervous and wondering if I can really jump during the waiting time, I would move my whole face and say “A, I, U, E, O” to loosen my face muscles, and then I also laugh at myself.  This is something that I do to turn my anxiety into excitement, and my nervousness into laughter.

Also, in order to avoid being nervous right before my performance, I usually skate with this image of all judges sitting in their position, and think “how would it be if this is the real competition?” during the official performance.

Q: After the World Championship, many of your comments were very positive, weren’t they? 

I definitely think it’s better not to get depressed and think like, "I’m not good at everything.” And I’m very positive about the fact that I'd been training really hard to increase the stability of quad jumps for the competitions.

I remember that my body movement was better during the morning practice on FP day and my performance was better than SP.

And two days after the competition, my condition was getting better again and I could pull myself together.  Of course I have the regret that I couldn't get a good result, but now I want to think about what was wrong and what was good, and move forward positively while reflecting on it.

Q: Please tell us about your programs in future.  Your SP’s one-handed cartwheel was getting so much attention this season.  Do you have any plans for the next season already?

Right now, I’m planning to keep my SP "The Fire Within", but I will change my FP "Baby, God Bless You" to something else.  I really love my FP’s music this season, the birth of life was its theme.  It was a beautiful program and also had good flow to it, so I tried to express the beauty of the music by a sense of speed of skating.

For the Olympics, I am planning to create a program with good speed and also some parts where I can go slow and take a good rest.

I really want to work hard on expressing the emotion through (my) facial expression so the audience will understand the program effortlessly, like a story being told,  connected from beginning to end.

Also, it is important not to make any mistakes even if I put in difficult jumps, so I want to make sure to have a part where I can calmly adjust myself before going into the second half of the program.  So I want my new program to have some sort of accent (for the rhythm of music and choreography).

Q: What kind of training do you want to do during this off-season?

First of all, intense body training. I’m planning to go over my competitive programs (SP&FS) when I will practice the show programs during the upcoming ice shows from spring till summer.

In order not to waste my time until the Beijing Olympics, I want to think about the Olympics every day and make sure to do intense training when my physical condition is good.

By spending the (off-season) time being strict to myself in this way, I can believe in myself by thinking, "I've been doing my best for the Olympics" at the moment of my performance at the Olympics. So I want to spend this off-season being strict for myself.

Q: For the Olympics, many people (media) will focus on how you would fight against the Russian skaters.

At the World Championship, I felt that the Russian skaters were able to perform their best at the very right timing (competition). But right now, I think there’s no need to compare myself with somebody else, the result from this competition came from the fact that I couldn’t perform what I could usually do.

It’s not that I have some parts that need to be improved compared to other people, but I could find a lot of my own challenges. I want to overcome them before going into the Olympics.

You may make a big mistake if you keep trying at random, just because you are way behind the Russian players.

If someone will do quintuple jumps, I wonder if I would go for quint jumps, that's not the case.  I believe that it will eventually show in the scores if I keep doing what I can do right now.

I did feel that the Russian ladies skaters are strong, but I just want to calmly analyze my situation and keep doing my best every day.

In April 2021, remotely during the quarantine period after returning to Japan

thank you to Fukuhana for translating and to Sunny for proofreading and editing the interview. 

[enniewritesathing]

Part 6

Previous ⏮

(It’s been days since the talks with his uncle and mom, and John continues to plot the proposal. He’s kept himself cool and normal as possible, but he still thinks back to the night on the roof. Missed opportunity, but that’s alright. 

Today is the day.)

(He’s parked at the kitchen counter after cleaning up a late breakfast-- or would it be brunch?-- and putting away the dishes from the dishwasher. Gave him more time to work out his nerves.)

(He watches Brian knitting. Yarn this, gauge that. He didn’t quite understand the terminology or how he was able to even make anything. It’s kept his hands busy, his thoughts of work at bay. He’s already made socks... for the cat anyway.)

Brian: (mumbles) “Ah dammit, don’t tangle up on me.”

(John sighs. What to do, what to do? He runs fingers across knuckles. He has worn the ring around his neck. Brian’s taken notice of it and even asked about it, but nothing has pointed to him knowing or putting it 2+2 together.)

(C’mon, he tells himself. It’s 4. And each time, he wants to drop to his knee. But, no, he keeps brushing it off as something he just wanted to do. “Because.” It’s the same excuse he tells when he wears a collar.)

(”Are you trying to tell me something?” he hears Brian’s voice. Yeah, absolutely, I just love the feeling of being a little choked out--)

Brian: “John, did you say something?”

John: “Huh? Oh, nothin’, I was just talking to myself.” 

(Smooth. Real smooth.)

Brian: “What are you doing way over there? C’mere.”

(Brian continues to fiddle with the yarn. Almost got it... there!)

John: “What?”

Brian: “What do you mean, ‘what?’ I wanted to see you.”

John: (scoffs) “You can always do that.”

Brian: “Alright, smartass. What are you plottin’ over there? Don’t think I noticed during late breakfast.”

(John laughs.) “I’m not plotting anything.”

Brian: “You were not into that bacon as much. And you only had... three pancakes.”

John: “Got me there.”

(John sits down and observes.) “What are you making this time? More socks for the cat? Or maybe a sweater?”

Brian: “I am working on a scarf. Or something. I’m playing it by ear. I just might give it to you.”

“You never did tell me what you’re plottin’.”

John: “It’s not plotting!”

(Brian slows down the needles.) “Oh?”

John: “I was thinking... maybe we can go on a date tonight.”

Brian: “I gotta hear this. What’s your plan, big guy?”

(Ahhh, a date! Yes, yes, that’s good, John thinks to himself.) “That’s the plan. A date.” (Noooo, that’s terrible!)

Brian: “Yeah? Where to?”

John: “I... don’t know? I mean, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Couple of months? Where would you like to go?”

Brian: “I dunno. You’re usually the one with the plan.”

John: “Dinner and a movie?”

Brian: “We can do that here.”

John: “What? No!”

“A date date. An outdoors date. Go out and do things... like, I don’t know, skating?”

Brian: “Honey, you know I can’t skate. It’ll be embarrassing!”

John: “What? Then I’ll teach you! I’ll do you better -- I’ll teach you how to ice skate.”

Brian: “I didn’t know you can skate?”

John: “I haven’t since I was a kid, but trust me, it’s not that hard.”

Brian: “Do we have a ice rink?”

John: “I’m sure there’s one around here somewhere... maybe all the way out in San Myshuno, I dunno. Holidays are almost here, so there’s bound to be a pop up rink.”

Brian: “Okay, but what about the weather?

(John changes the channel to the local weather network.) “Ah, just in time!”

TV: “Beginning this week, some residents in the Tri-County area will see some form of snow activity, with highs starting in the 50s and falling to the 30s by nightfall. Willow Creek can expect trace amounts, followed by Magnolia Promenade, New Crest, and Windenburg. Just in time for Harvestfest!”

(The TV then goes on to commercial advertising a winter themed pop-up park, with a large ice skating rink, an area to build snowpals, and the good ol’ fashioned snowball fights. John pays close attention to the address. It’s in Newcrest and almost right off the interstate. Apparently, it’s the 15th year of business.)

John: “Well? Is it a date?”

Brian: “I dunno, John... maybe you can do a little more convincing?”

(John leans over and whispers.)

“First, I’ll...”

(Brian listens to every word.)

(Brian laughs, and even snorts a little.) “John, no!”

John: “Yeah?”

Brian: “Honey. Don’t do that.”

John: “It’s not a bad idea though!”

Brian: “It’s not but... no. That’s how you get ants.”

(John huffs.) “Fine. One day, Brian, I am gonna do it. 

Brian: “Ugh! I feel sticky now. I’m gonna go freshen up first. You wanna join? Get the party started?”

John: “That sounds like an after party. I’ll decline. You go ahead.”

(Brian leaves, but not before giving John a peck on the cheek.)

(That didn’t go so bad at all, even with a few fumbles. Good! A date at the skating rink. Outdoors, even! Ah, just thinking about being under the crisp fall air with the love of his life, holding hands... now he’s just gotta concentrate on just finding the right time... damn, this is going to be a good night!)

John: “Hey, Brian?”

Brian: “Huh~?”

John: “Think I should shave?”

Brian: “Shave wha-- oh! No, don’t shave.” (John swears he can hear him smile.) “I like it~”

(John leans over to see Brian’s outfit.) “You’re wearing that? Thought you were gonna wear something cute.”

Brian: “Of course I am wearing this. It’s practical. I haven’t figured out how to balance cute with trying not to freeze my nuts off. Besides, we’re skating.

John: “Aw.”

Brian: “What about you? You gonna dress handsome with that ring of yours?”

(You mean, ring of yours. John realizes he spoke outloud again as Brian looks at him with a raised eyebrow.) “H-huh?”

Brian: “Dress smart, John. Don’t want your tits to freeze.”

John: “Quit callin’ them that!”

(He was right though... gotta dress smart. John fished through the closet and found some long sleeved shirts and jeans he hadn’t worn since last winter. Sure, the shirt was slightly too snug for him, it still fits.)

(John looks at the ring one last time as it sits perfectly on his chest. Tonight’s the night. There’s no going back from this.)

Brian: “Oh, look at you strutting out like a model.” (He sniffs the air.) “And the Burberry!”

(John grabs Brian’s hands.) “Well, thank you. You look ravishing yourself.”

Brian: “Oh, please.”

John: “I’m serious.”

(He holds his hands, marvelling how long and slender Brian’s fingers are -- and the small calluses on his palm.)

(John lifts both to kiss them with such softness that he hears Brian take a tiny gasp and an “oh.”)

Brian: “Oh, you are laying it thick, huh, John? What are you up to?”

John: “The sooner we go out, the sooner you’ll know.”

Brian: “Then let’s go!”

(But first, another food break was to be had when they reached Newcrest. Newcrest is an hour’s drive from home, depending on how much traffic there is. This particular day everyone and their mother seemed to be in town. John wonders if there was a big event somewhere. In any case, he takes Brian to the local food stall park and set him loose until choosing between the Sulani food stall and the Salvadorian stall.

When the vendor shows how much food they’ll get for absurdly small price, they made the decision to pick up a plate of Mua Kalua Pork; and left the vendor a generous tip.)

John: “Damn, this is delicious. I know we’re supposed to be on a date, but...”

Brian: “...you can eat this all day? Yeah, same.”

(Brian wafes his hand to get more of the smoked meat aroma. There’s so many spices!) 

(The shine in Brian’s eyes are delightful and marvelous. Have they always been this bright before? It’s probably outside, but, maybe it’s been a while--)

Brian: “John, you okay? You’re kinda staring.”

John: “Huh? Oh! No, I’m just... taking it all in. This food is delicious. That and you look really cute.”

Brian: (slyly) “Uh-huh. So, ice skating.”

John: “Listen, you’re not gonna be embarrassed. There’s other people who don’t know how. Little kids, adults, old people... no one’s gonna be like, an Olympic figure skater. And if they are, they’re showing off. You don’t have to be perfect. Not for me.”

“I’ll hold your hand and everything. I know you didn’t get to do all that stuff as a kid, but... now’s a pretty good time to learn, right? Together. It’ll be fine.”

Brian: “Okay. But do you know what else we can do together?”

John: “What’s that?”

Brian: “We need to get a to-go box!”

(Naturally, after all that eating, the pair walked it off with some sightseeing, lingering long enough for the sun to go down and the city lights and buildings to light up the skyline.)

(Brian watches John as he laces up his skates. Maybe it’s the air or the lighting, or the cologne he’s wearing that’s making him feel giddy.)

Brian: “Johnny?”

(John feels his heart skip a beat. The way Brian calls him that -- soft and sweet.) “Yeah, babe?”

“Can you... tie my skates for me? I wanna make sure it’s right.” 

John: “Yeah. Gimme your leg.”

(Brian offers his foot and places it gingerly on John’s leg.)

John: “So, how are you feelin’?” Nervous? Excited? Cold? Still full?”

Brian: “Everything. Maybe a little overwhelming.”

John: “Really?”

Brian: (sing-song) “But I got you~”

(John chuckles. It’s been a while since Brian has acted so... carefree.)

John: “Alright, I’m done. Ready to stand up?” (He offers his hand, and slips it into a grip.) “You might be a little shakey.”

Brian: “Shakey?” (He blows a raspberry.) “Watch this.”

(John pulls him up, and Brian stands up. His legs buckles under the skates and John catches him in time.) “Careful! You alright?”

Brian: “Yeah, I’m...”

(He pauses. Woah, when did... John’s shoulders get so broad and firm?)

(His eyes linger on the necklace more than his chest. He tilts his head. Are those... words in there?)

(He feels John’s stare and looks up.)

(Brian swears there’s a smirk on his face.) 

John: “You okay?”

Brian: “Y-yeah. I’m cool.”

John: “Alright, let’s go.”

(They walked -- John walked and Brian wobbled -- to the ice rink. John effortlessly entered the rink and did a small twirl before facing Brian again.)

John: “I’m gonna warm up with a couple of laps. I’ll come back to get you. You can hang out here.”

Brian: “What? And look like a doofus?”

John: “Yeah!”

Brian: “John! Johnnn!!! You jerk!”

⏭Next

[votederpycausemufins]

Lila Gets Exposed part 4

This is a one shot series I’m doing that is also posted on Ao3 here I’m fine with getting recommendations for other chapters [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] ———————————–

Alix - Truth from the future 

    “Homework sucks!” Alix yelled to herself getting a shush from the school librarian. She was trying to finish what she wasn’t able to last night. She was going to, but she lost track of time hyperfocusing on something else. Curse her ADHD. Yeah maybe she was told multiple times by her brother to work on homework, but it doesn’t always work like that.

    ‘Focus.’ she thought to herself as her mind wandered off to last night. ‘This is due today!’ Her leg started bouncing and she tapped her pen on the desk and grabbed her other pen as a small floating rabbit tried to take it away. Wait.

    “Fluff?” She whispered, leaning towards the kwami before it flew off. She looked to where they went and there was her older self. Homework could definitely wait for this.

    “Hey mini me. Homework causing some trouble?”

    “Yes! Why does it have to be so hard?” Alix asked her adult self.

    “Who knows. They stopped giving homework a few years ago. Apparently it was more harm than help or something.”

    “So why are you here? Is there another akuma you need help with?”

    Adult Alix seemed to wince. “You know how the Hawkmoth from my time isn’t the same from this time.”

    “Yeah. It’s not like akumas have been quiet when talking with Hawkmoth. Why?”

    Her older self sighed. “So there’s this one guy who guards the miraculous, no clue how he’s still alive, but he gave me a note, which apparently he got from Ladybug and she apparently got it from you and you got it from me. Your basic time travel stuff. Anyway, that note was about now. Right now I mean.”

    Alix made her pause to explain, but she just told Alix she’ll find out.

    “Well anyway, I’m supposed to come back right now and tell you that Lila is a liar, will become Hawkmoth, stuff like that.”

    “Wait, Lila really is a liar? And she’s going to become Hawkmoth?! We need to tell someone!.”

    Future Alix shook her head. “Sorry, you can’t. Technically she hasn’t done anything wrong since she’s not Hawkmoth yet, and who knows what will happen if you try telling someone. She’s could become Hawkmoth no matter what.”

    Alix put her hands to her head. “This is horrible! And Lila’s a liar, meaning Marinette is right and we’ve been so mean to her.”

    “Yeah, there’s a reason Marinette gets to be a hero and Lila doesn’t.”

    “Marinette gets a Miraculous too?!”

    “Eventually yeah. Can’t tell you who exactly but she does get one at one point. But that doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is you help Marinette and anyone else Lila might hurt. It’s… it’s really important for everyone involved. And you may not want to, but you especially need to help Chloe.”

    That made Alix have a double take. “Chloe?! I haven’t helped her since she almost dragged me into a group with her and Sabrina a few years back.”

    “Yeah her. She’s gonna improve, I promise. But she’s going to need some extra help because of something Lila does.”

    Alix grumbled but then nodded. “Fine, I guess if I have to. I doubt she actually will get better, but I guess she should get a chance.”

    Future Alix shrugged. “Hey, at least when you give her a chance, she’ll try to improve at least a little. Lila just threatens and lies her way to popularity.”

    “Who the hell did she threaten?!” Alix all but yelled, getting a shush from someone nearby but at least out of sight.

    “Well, I don’t know who she has right now, but basically any time someone figures it out and confronts her, she threatens them. With Marinette it was her friends and her crush on Adrien, for Chloe it was her dad’s position as mayor since her mom is actually in the embassy and would have some sway. For Adrien it was going to his father and getting him permanent homeschooling.”

    Alix was fuming. “Lila is such a b-” she couldn’t finish as Fluff came out of nowhere and covered her mouth.

    “Careful, we’re in a school library. Being loud is already pushing it.” Her adult version explained, but then quickly added. “I’d love to curse about her too though.”

    Alix huffed before looking up at herself. “Well what am I supposed to do about it? Who the heck is going to even believe me?”

    Future Alix put her hand on her chin. “Well, Marinette isn’t the only one that knows, but Since Lila has been threatening Marinette and possibly others, though I’m not sure who right now, there are going to be some people in the class that know and just are too scared to speak up. I texted the class one by one asking who they believe, Marinette or Lila.”

    “Alright, but how am I supposed to convince anyone else?”

    Alix got a smirk from her double. “Our class has done a lot of cool things, and I know when there’s something you do like, you’ll learn everything you can about it. Maybe talk about some of that stuff and Lila will tell a blatant lie not knowing others know the truth.”

    Alix crossed her arms. “What did you do?”

    “Well I may have mentioned Markov without talking about their name and Lila talked about their cousin who created him. Max was surprised since Lila wasn’t on his family tree. But that’s not what I started with.”

    “She didn’t!” Alix exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Oh my gosh it’s that easy? She doesn’t even learn about what she’s lying about. How were we so blind?”

    “Hey, my theory is we’ve got magic miraculouses, we got a magic ice cream guy, who says that Lila doesn’t have a magic tongue.”

    Alix’s eyes widened. “You’re right! Oh my gosh. This makes so much sense now! What else is real magic? Did gods from different mythologies actually exist? If so my brother would freak out.”

    “Okay mini me, one thing at a time. First, you need to help your friends.”

    Alix nodded and pulled out her phone before her double spoke again. “Oh and by the way, you need to thank Fluff.”

    “Wait, what for?”

    “They helped finish your homework I doubt it was important anyway. Well other than helping your grade, but homework just sucks in general.”

    Alix thanked Fluff and her adult self. “I’ll do my best to help everyone. Who knows, maybe that’s what’ll help Ladybug think I can get a miraculous.”

    “You have no idea mini me.”

    Alix started to walk away before turning back. “Wait, aren’t you only given your miraculous for emergencies when there’s no one else that can help? Is Lila that bad as Hawkmoth?”

    “Let’s just say, she’s worse as herself than as Hawkmoth. But speaking of, I should probably get going.” Future Alix took out her watch. “Fluff, Clockwise.”

    Alix gave a quick wave to Bunnix before she left with Rabbit Hole leaving the skater on her own. At that moment the warning bell for class rang and she grabbed her homework to rush to class. Entering the room, of course Marinette wasn’t there, but Lila was, talking about more lies. Alix held in a frown and walked over. “Hey what are you guys talking about?”

    Lila smiled. “Oh we were just talking about how I almost competed in the Olympics, but couldn’t because of my hand.”

    “Oh really? What event?” The skater asked.

    “Gymnastics. It should be obvious why I couldn’t with my hand.”

    Alix faked interest. “Oh really, which one?”

    “Um, the most recent one.”

    “Oh…” she tried her best to sound disappointed.

    “Well I also almost went into the games before that.”

    Alix held in a smile. “Did you ever get to meet Ewan Fernandez? Or maybe Benjamin Macé?”

    “Oh yes of course! We practiced together sometimes!”

    “But wouldn’t you be competing for Italy?” The red head tilted her head innocently. “And they’re speed skaters, not gymnasts. I mean, everyone knows I like skating.”

    For once, Lila was at a loss for words. She was soon able to come up with an excuse that she mixed up some names, but Alix knew it wouldn’t take long for her to be figured out now. And hopefully it would help the rest of her class.

[mimiplaysgames]

the stars bear witness

Terraqua Week Day 2: Future Masters

Summary: Underneath the responsibilities of Keyblade Mastery are two adults who are still figuring out what to do. Terra and Aqua sneak away for a quiet moment together.

Notes: Today is the day - this was supposed to be my Terraqua Zine piece but I scrapped it for another idea. It’s given me plenty of grief but I’m glad that I can dust it off and finally share it. I hope it’s enjoyable! @terraquaweek

Read on AO3

**

Some nights, like tonight, are stronger than the friends I have with me.

There’s a place deep in the woods, right by the riverbank, were the Master used to meditate. He believed the energy there gives us second chances - something about the way the water strolls without a care to look back or to know where it’s going. Right now, it sounds like a fantastic idea.

When I say I want to go, Aqua doesn’t bat an eyelash even though it’s the middle of the night; it’s late enough that we both know sleep has left long ago and shut the door behind it. She’s more than ready to peel herself off the most boring book in the library and her eyes have already frozen themselves open.

I get why she’s taking her teaching duties so seriously, but I don’t see the point in making it that much harder to be awake for her lessons. 

In spite of that, she gives me a lazy smile, and invites herself. “I know you want me to go with you, anyway,” she says, and it��s completely true. I used to get so annoyed at her for reading me so easily.

We whisper and tip-toe across the castle, even though it’s humongous and there’s no way the other students would hear us. I know this for a fact. I know because I can hear their heartbeats, doors away, slowing down as they fall into slumber. That sounds completely crazy, I know - it’s a power that stayed with me since my days in darkness. I’ve been a literal bodyguard on behalf of anyone who used me this way for over a decade, and so… the skill is burned into me. Aqua doesn’t know yet, and no, I’m not proud. 

Yet for some reason, I can’t bring myself to speak to her at a normal volume and tell her that they’re soundly sleeping when she’s darting looks around to see if we bothered anyone. She takes my hand when the cold breeze nips us, and I lead her down a trail that sneaks far away from the security of the training grounds.

We used to hold hands like this as kids: always stay together and keep each other safe, per the Master’s rules. I can’t lie, I’m glad we haven’t dropped this habit even though we don’t need it anymore.

Or maybe I really do need it. I never wanted to go alone, and… I guess there’s always that one possibility something might go wrong. 

Remembering what I’m capable of almost makes me want to cancel this night out, tell her to go back inside and try to sleep as I walk it off into the forest, where the lanterns don’t shine.

But I know her, and she hates conversations like this. 

She’s stubborn too, conjuring herself a little companion, an orb of light, to lead us the way into the ticket so we don’t get lost. It drips dotted sparkles on the ground, like a pathway back home when we’re done. Very handy. It’s almost like she nearly expected me to object on her behalf, because I know the dark isn’t good for her, and she’s already nipped the conversation before it can happen.

Yeah, it’s good that Aqua is with me. She’s usually the smarter one - usually, when she’s not mad. Despite her expertise, I’d say she’s probably fire where I’m icy. She’s soft when I’m rigid, understanding when I’m short-sighted. She’s light when I’m darkness. When I’m blind, she sees.

We approach the river hidden by weeping willows, where logs wait for us to sit and watch the ripples stroll by. There’s more than a million lanterns in the sky to see out here, but I think I now realize I’ve never needed one to guide me back home when I have her.

It’s nice, just being away from the castle and be… us. Terra and Aqua, instead of respectful Keyblade Masters who are admired and perfected in the minds of others. 

Masters… I start talking about the Master, how he said the stars keep watch over us. It’s what keeps us all connected through a stronger light. The three of us believe that he’s up there somewhere, watching what we’re doing right now. 

“He used to say that if you cried out here, under the stars, we’d be able to hear you from the other side of the mountain,” I say.

“That’s right, I completely forgot.” Her whisper gives out, shivering until it makes sound. Her fingers are locked with mine, and her gaze travels somewhere else. Whatever she’s remembering is a happy thought. “I’m glad you haven’t changed.”

Of all the things she could have said, I’d never understand what possessed her to say that.

“You know what I mean,” she corrects herself when she sees my face. “I’m glad you remember these things. It makes me feel like I’m back home.”

“You mean, you don’t feel like-?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “it’s not.”

When it’s this quiet between us, I hear the crickets. I can even feel them rub their wings together.

“Well,” she says with a kick in her voice and a squeeze of my hand. I hear how proud she is of herself for being a teacher. “Ready to practice?”

No, thank you. 

“Sure.”

It’s a good distraction for her, giving me private lessons. No one really tries to treat her any different, and certainly Aqua would prefer to befriend our students. At the same time, in the classroom, she is Master Aqua, Survivor of the Realm of Darkness. 

But when Aqua has her mind set on something, it’s tunnel vision, and there’s something nice about that when I’m unsure.

It’s probably why she encourages me to do it here, away from the scrutinizing glare of the castle walls in a forest that doesn’t care what our names are. Here, there’s no talk about how to define a Keyblade Master, or what our next missions are and how long we’ll be separated.

Straddling the log underneath us, Aqua holds out her hand, her glowing orb as white as a pearl hovering above her palm.

I ask her for the third time if she’s okay with this.  

I don’t know if she ever tires of reassuring me, but she does again with no complaints.

I can’t really compare to how she’s so willing to face the darkness despite what she’s been through. She’s braver than me.

What I can say for sure is that we’ve never once considered there would be a day when my hand would hover above hers like this, that I’d will darkness to pour out of it slowly, skating the surface of her light, its tendrils wrapping it in a small embrace.

Eerily, it feels like brushing her cheek, or rubbing her palms. Whatever I’m touching feels as real as holding her. Which terrifies me.

The point is to cover the orb entirely without smothering or destroying it. But it’s an accident that happens too frequently, like I hurt her without meaning to, even though she keeps saying she’s not in pain. 

It happens because her light is vivid and powerful, and I have to exert a tremendous force just to do a decent job of covering it, and I always do too much.

I hate it when I do that.

I hate that I still have darkness. 

Aqua wants me to stop feeling ashamed over it, but she doesn’t understand what a hard request that is. I can’t not feel ashamed, and of course I stop before I even try.

“Terra,” she says when the tendrils let go, when I draw the energy back into my hand and pull away. “I don’t want to push you but…”

“I know.” We all have darkness. We all have the capability of getting swallowed by it. Since it will stay with me forever, might as well be at peace with it. 

After all, if I don’t ever want to hurt her or Ven again, it’s something I have to control properly.

Her other palm rests on the back of my hand, leading it back over the orb and she keeps it there, sandwiched in-between her touch. I like it too much to tell her that it’s distracting. 

Then of course there’s that nagging need at the back of my mind that wants to impress her, that wants to prove myself so I stop thinking about what her touch feels like and try again.

I hold her with my other hand. It’s palm on dorsal on palm on dorsal, like we need to delicately contain the light and darkness in-between, like what we hold in our hands is a safe space for me to make mistakes, to make her light flicker, to make darkness spit and burst out from the sides. As long I don’t destroy what she has, I can find some way to sleep without feeling like shit about myself.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she says to me. 

There’s nothing to be afraid of. She says this to herself each and every time before she walks into a dark room when she thinks no one can hear her… when she thinks I don’t notice how her shadow quivers. 

“The castle is safe,” I reply and she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “I can’t say the same for myself.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Maybe I am. “There’s more to it.”

If there’s anything I appreciate about Aqua, it’s how she doesn’t let me go. It’s how she waits for me to finish without prodding. She knows me, she knows I’m scared to say what’s next. 

So I start the only way I know how.

“There’s a rabbit too terrified to move out of a hedge back there.” I point behind me, listening to the escalated heartbeat hiding in that bush. “Let’s see, there’s an owl watching for prey and it doesn’t care we’re here.” I nod my head towards the direction across the river, where the shadows are very still.

The more I speak, the harder her stare becomes. I speak with ordinary words but nothing is making me sound like a normal person.

“What are you talking about?”

I breathe first. It does shit to calm me. "I can tell where everyone's shadows are. I can feel them move." It takes a second to realize that I'm staring at our fingers, where darkness slips through the cracks because it's too intimidated by the light underneath. "Think of it as a leftover tip from the Thing."

The Thing, of course. The other Keybearers call it the Guardian but I've never felt like I did a good job with such a title. We've talked about the Thing many times, and I'll hear stories of how the others came across it, and how it stalked them during fights, and I simply get too tired to even broach the subject anymore. I don't know why I even bring it up now. This darkness comes from the Thing and I would rather scrub myself clean of it.

But she laughs, and I swear my heart forgets to beat. "Is this what Ven meant when he said it was impossible to sneak up on you?"

“Did he seriously say that?”

“Yeah,” she sniffs. “He doesn’t understand how you always know where he is when he hides.” She hums, like she’s grateful for the laugh. “He thinks I’m crazy for not noticing but I thought he was exaggerating.”

“He wasn’t.” Thinking about him automatically makes me think about rolling around, about excited conversations and Chirithy patiently waiting on the edge of the bed. “Right now, Ven’s not even sleeping. He’s just talking to Cheers.”

“Is that right.” Sounds like he’s going to get the surprise of the morning when she’ll bug him about procrastinating on his beauty rest.

She takes a moment to think, a small smile breaching her face. “So, when I ask you if there is something creeping around the castle...?”

“There’s really nothing.” 

She smiles, gripping my hands harder. Tears fall, like she’s been told that she’s going to survive. Her eyes thank me. Wow, I never really thought about it, if I did that much good for her. 

“Why are you still so hard on yourself, though?” Her smile fades away.

There’s a thousand easy answers to that. “Because I don’t want to have this. Everyone else gets to grow up as typical Keyblade Wielders but…” 

She nods.

“I also have an unwanted gift from the darkness.” At first she doesn’t look at me when she says that, her smile morphing from its temporary joy to a familiar melancholy.

I wonder if she knows how sad she sounds all the time.

She lets a hand go free, finding its way to her chest as she flutters her eyes closed. Suddenly I’m reminded of her first magic lessons, when I thought it would take her forever to cast Fire because she needed to take ten minutes to concentrate before even trying.

Now, I can’t gauge how much time passes by in silence before something finally happens. A cold, humid wind trickles by us, despite that it’s summer. 

Here I am, vulnerable and unprepared with my legs wide over a log, and I’m surrounded by many Aqua’s, her orb of light almost shedding through them. Most of them look down on me, angry, disappointed, confused, sad. As sad as she sounds a lot of the time.

These phantoms have no shadows, so to me they don’t exist even though I can clearly see them. They’re scary.

When it’s more appropriate, I’ll joke that the only thing creeping around the castle is her.

“I can’t control them,” she explains quickly, and I hope she’s not assuming that I’m taking their stares personally (I am). “I can’t even make them move.”

I shrug. “They’re pretty badass.”

Aqua snorts. “You always have a way of making me feel better,” she says and I’ve never realized. 

When she lets go of them, they swiftly disappear, but the cold lingers and it almost makes me suspicious that they’re still around, despairing about things she won’t talk about. Like there are thoughts she keeps secret. 

“I never meant to make you sad,” I say. We’ve talked a little about what the last twelve years were like for her. I know where those phantoms come from. 

“You don’t,” she says with such confidence just to remind me that she doesn’t blame me for anything and I almost want to force her to. 

To punish me or get angry with me. To stop kissing me goodnight or confirm to me that the Master must be so disappointed, wherever he is. But she never does. Why not? 

“Why not?” I blurt out.

At least she’s smiling again. “All I’ve ever wanted was to have you back. I mean, I’m angry, yeah. I am. But I feel better when you’re around. I need that.” 

She scoots closer to me, the smell of her shampoo with blends of vanilla and lavender in my face. The white sheen of her orb makes her eyes bluer. 

“Terra, I’m glad you’re here. It’s spotty, sure. I always feel bad when you stay awake just to help me sleep but... we’re Masters together. Just like we wanted.”

It’s my turn to snort. “I don’t mind staying up, obviously.”

When her smile reaches her eyes, that’s when I think she’s prettiest. “I don’t either.” 

I do mind it when she leans away from me when I try to kiss her. 

“The stars are watching,” she says, like a teacher bringing the entire class’ attention to shame one student. 

I don’t have a good enough retort, so I huff. Think about the usefulness of my foreign, unwieldy powers. If this is the way she wants me to kiss her, so be it, I’ll get the tendrils moving again to cover her light. 

“We should try some pranks on Ven,” I whisper.

“Between my clones and your honing abilities-”

“It’d be hilarious.”

“See, you haven’t changed.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Twelve years later, and pranks still make you smirk like a child.”

“Ven deserves it.”

“... I’ll only deny that a little bit.”

I don’t say out loud that I’m grateful for her - I really should work on expressing myself better, and I only hope she knows.

Aqua has always been good with magic but it’s a special sort when she makes me forget about what worries me despite the fact that I can’t heal from this. 

I snigger about the darkness with her for a simple night in the woods and it’s suddenly a miracle that I can wrap her light in a black veil, like it’s no big deal. A hovering, black orb as deep a hole in space with all the energy locked inside, floating in between our hands. It’s hard work, yes, and I tremble from the effort, but now she wants to see how long I can keep it up. 

I’ve forgotten how dark it is out in the wild. 

But she’s like a star, and they shine best in a night like this. 

They’re too far away to really give me anything to see, but she’s close enough that I slowly make out the blue in her eyes. 

One simple kiss is never enough and always leads to a second, a third.

I let go of the veil to hold her face, her sheen blinding after several seconds of being caressed by the darkness, bright enough to stop us from seeing the stars.

[ibrokeeverything]

“He’s so pretty I think I’m gonna faint.” Yuuri x Victor

Sitting up and reaching for his glasses, Yuuri let out a frustrated sigh. He’s been in bed for hours with little luck falling asleep. He was no stranger to sleepless nights. There had been countless times he’d been kept up by anxieties or nerves, mind spinning until the sun rose over the horizon. With everything that had been going on lately, it was a miracle he got any sleep at all. Luckily brutal conditioning and long practices had worn his body down to exhaustion; he’d been asleep as soon as he hit the bed most nights.

Glasses slid into place, Yuuri felt around for his phone until his fingers connected with the cool plastic surface of his case. He brought it up close to his face before clicking the home button to determine the time. Blinding light emitted from the screen, but he was able to make out 3:26 am before squeezing his eyes shut and pointing it down towards the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, shoving his bangs back. He flopped back down into bed, landing with a soft thump. It was so late, or early now that it was technically the next morning, and he had to get up for practice in just a few hours. Letting out a long breath, he pushed himself to his feet. Clearly, just lying in bed wasn’t getting him anywhere. He shuffled out of the room, careful to make as little noise as possible while sliding the door shut. Gently walking down the hall, he passed Victor’s room and made it to the stairs. The last thing he would want to do was wake Victor in the middle of the night while he’d been working so hard to coach him.

Yuuri flipped a light on once in the kitchen, wincing as his eyes adjusted. He began going through the familiar motions of making a cup of tea. After filling the kettle with water, he set it on the stovetop. Turning the knob until the fire came to life, he watched as the flames danced below the kettle. He sorted through the teas until finding the chamomile blend. It was caffeine-free and calming, so therefore perfect for a 3:00 am cup of tea. The water soon began to rumble and steam, so he turned off the heat and scooped up some of the dried chamomile flowers. Dumping them into the pot, he watched as they fell in and slowly started to stain the water a pale yellow color. Pulling his attention away from the tea, he hunted for a mug and strainer. Once found, he leaned on the counter, forearms propping his body up, and watched as the tea turned from a light color to a rich and deep gold.

There was something about the middle of the night that Yuuri loved. Everything seemed to calm and still. There was no chaos or worry, only quiet and peace. He found it much easier to relax, yet at the same time, there was nothing to distract him from his own thoughts. It was also easy to spiral out of control, spending hours obsessing over something trivial, just for morning to arrive and to realize that it never really mattered to begin with.

Shaking the thoughts away, Yuuri peered into the kettle. Deciding that the tea had brewed for long enough, he carefully poured the hot liquid through the strainer and into his cup. Gingerly taking the hot mug into his hands, Yuuri wrapped his fingers around the mug. Settling down on a cushion and placing his mug on the table, his eyes were drawn to the steam drifting away from the tea before disappearing into nothingness. It was beautiful, yet fleeting and untouchable. If not for the lack of sleep he may have found it in himself to compare it to Victor, so close but just out of reach. Instead, he simply brought the mug to his lips. A quick sip warmed his throat, the comforting flavor helping to put his mind at ease.

Tapping his phone screen, it illuminated with the time again. This time, the light was manageable, tempered by the overhead lights of the kitchen. The minutes ticked by, his alarm getting closer and closer as each one passed. On a whim, he opened up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He landed on a very familiar name, Phichit Chulanont. It hadn’t been too long since he had last seen Phichit, yet he missed the constant warmth and optimism by his side. Tapping the call button, he brought the phone up to his ear.

Moving to Detroit was one of the scariest and most exciting things Yuuri had ever done in his life. He was leaving the comfort of his home, family, and even his own country. But, it was to further his competitive career. Celestino had been invaluable in advancing his skills, so of course the experience was worth it. However, Phichit had been the one to make it enjoyable. He had bonded with Yuuri right away over their passion for skating. His compassionate and easy-going nature was a perfect counterpart to the stressed and anxious side of Yuuri. They could talk about anything and everything, and he was always there to listen.

“Hello?” Phichit’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Hi, it’s me. Are you at practice?” Yuuri answered, one hand wrapped around his phone, the other around his mug.

“Yep, but I’m on a break,” Phichit’s peppy voice was a welcome sound. “Isn’t it really late there? What’s up?” Concern crept into his voice. He knew that Yuuri had trouble sleeping occasionally, being roommates and all, but he still worried for his friend.

“Yeah, it’s like 3:30.” The 13 hour time difference between Detroit and Hasetsu meant that it was mid afternoon for Phichit. That big of a difference usually made communicating a bit tough, but texting always worked well enough since they could just answer whenever they were awake. “I just- I don’t know Phichit.” Letting out a long breath, Yuuri slumped against the table, leaning his upper body against its surface with a hand propping up his head.

After Socchi, his life had basically turned upside down. He went from one of the lowest lows to his life and skating career, to soaking in the onsen and being coached by his idol, Victor Nikiforov. He was so thankful. Victor was producing results; Yuuri won the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship by a relatively wide margin. His short program, while very different from his usual style, was commanding attention and was rewarded with a high score. And of course, it was a dream come true to spend so much time with Victor, yet he was more stressed than ever. The stakes were raised impossibly high. With the Cup of China coming up soon, he had to perform spectacularly. Now, if he failed, Yuuri wouldn’t just be disappointing himself, he’d be disappointing Victor’s fans, Yuri, basically the entire figure skating community, and worst of all, Victor himself.

“Everything is changing, for the better, but I’m overwhelmed,” Yuuri admitted. Overwhelming: that summarized the experience pretty well. Victor had come crashing into Yuuri’s life like a beautiful, chaotic storm. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

Phichit hummed in response, affirming what Yuuri said. “I’m sure it is. You live with the Victor Nikiforov,” he replied. “Eighteen year-old Yuuri would have had a heart attack and died,” he finished, a warm chuckle following his words.

“I’m not sure twenty-three year-old Yuuri is faring much better.” Whether it was just a European tendency, his personality, or something else, Victor was always far too close for comfort. It wasn’t that Yuuri didn’t like it, but he constantly felt like his heart was going to burst. It was always something: a firm touch correcting his posture, leaning in a little close, or asking to sleep together. He was starting to think that personal space was not in Victor’s vocabulary.

“How is it? Living out your dream?” Phichit questioned. Yuuri pondered the question for a moment. He’d barely even had time to process that he was, in fact, living his childhood dream. It was everything he’d imagined, but it was reality too. Sure, he was being coached by his idol, but that didn’t magically solve all his problems. It fixed some of them and also created some more. He logically knew that people would have higher expectations for him now and that he’d be harder on himself. The problem he didn’t anticipate as a kid was the adult reality of living with someone you loved for basically your whole life. The crush he’d developed on Victor through years of idolizing was becoming an issue.

“Yes and no,” Yuuri replied, knowing that it wasn’t really much of an answer. “It’s just… Sometimes, he’s so pretty I think I’m going to faint,” Yuuri mumbled. His cheeks burned and he knew his face would be flushing to a deep crimson. While he’d admitted to himself long ago that he had a crush on Victor, and it went further than just admiring his skating, the embarrassment of saying it out loud still hit him hard. He’d gushed to Phichit about how cool Victor was countless times, but now that he knew Victor personally, and he wasn’t just some celebrity image, it felt all the more real. He found himself wanting to reach out and close the space between them more often than he’d like to admit.

“Yuuri, You’re in love! That’s so cute!” Phichit’s voice was suddenly much louder, excitement evident in his tone.

“I- I don’t know about that,” Yuuri sputtered back. He wouldn’t deny that there were definitely feelings there. He just wasn’t quite sure that they could be called love. Not yet anyway. His attachment to Victor was growing each day. Being the first person Yuuri saw every morning and usually the last one he saw at night was starting to wreak havoc on any and all rational thoughts. Yuuri knew that Victor was his coach, and getting involved could get really messy, but when Victor pulls him into a hug, he never wants to pull away. But, it didn’t matter in the long-run anyway. Victor was the top figure skater in the world, anyone would be thrilled to date him and there’s no way he’d ever look at someone like Yuuri in a romantic light. It was a miracle that he had even seen Yuuri’s video and decided he was worthy of Victor’s coaching.

“Just be sure to invite me to the wedding,” Phichit laughed, the sound bright and clear.

“It’ll never happen, Phichit. You know me. I’ll just enjoy every second I have now, while he’s looking at me, probably have a couple panic attacks along the way, and cry when Victor inevitably goes back to St. Petersburg. I’m just trying not to get my hopes up too high.” While Yuuri knew he’d probably get hurt in the future, he figured he could at least indulge himself for now. As embarrassing as it was, he allowed himself to enjoy Victor’s closeness. He’d take an extra glance when Victor walked out of the onsen in only a towel, or even the simple things like enjoying a meal together.

“Come on Yuuri, you have to go after him! You just don’t give yourself enough credit. Anybody would be lucky to have you!” This was why Yuuri always loved talking to Phichit. He was always there to make Yuuri feel better about himself and shower him with encouragement.

“I’ll think about it.” A small smile tugged at the corners of Yuuri’s lips. “I should probably go, I need to sleep.” He didn’t even want to think about how exhausting practice was going to be tomorrow on this little sleep.

“Definitely! Call me again soon, okay?” Phichit replied.

“Of course,” Yuuri hung up his phone and laid it on the table next to his now mostly empty mug. He did feel a bit better now, having talked with Phichit.

Leaning back, he laid back on the ground, legs stretched out under the table, gathering his resolve to get up and head back up to bed, hoping to get some sleep. Then, his eyes settled on a figure stepping into the kitchen. “Victor!” Yuuri all but squeaked, bolting upright and smacking his knees on the table in the process. He winced at the pain, but scrambled to his feet, turning to face Victor. Hoping the panic wasn’t showing on his face, he offered a small smile. “Why are you up?’ He questioned, desperately hoping Victor hadn’t heard anything from his conversation with Phichit. He might actually die if that happened.

“Water,” He replied simply. “But, I could ask you the same question.” Victor retrieved a glass and filled it up with water before turning back to Yuuri.

“Um, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought tea might help.” Not mentioning the phone call seemed like the safest option. Hopefully he could escape back to his room before Victor asked any more questions.

“Who was on the phone?” Victor asked with his usual bright smile and energetic tone. A new wave of panic rushed through him and Yuuri felt his heart sink. This was it. He was going to have to retire from figure skating and never show his face again. He couldn’t even hope that Victor would misunderstand the call. Yuuri had even mentioned Victor by name.

“How much did you hear?” Yuuri said, voice quiet and eyes downcast. He was clinging onto the hope that all Victor had heard was their good-byes like it was a lifeline.

“Just something about not getting your hopes up. Worried about getting to the Grand Prix?” Victor took a sip of his water, looking at Yuuri with innocent eyes. Relieved, Yuuri started heading toward the stairs, trying to ease his way out of the conversation.

“Something like that,” He agreed, too tired to come up with anything else. That made sense and Victor would understand. Victor followed him to the stairs, heading back to his own room as well.

“Well, don’t worry. You can do it, no problem. You have the best coach out there,” Victor replied, another smile spreading across his features. Despite the tension of the situation, Yuuri felt his nerves settle with the reassurance from Victor, even if it wasn’t relevant at the moment.

“Thanks. I, uh, should probably get some sleep,” Yuuri said as they reached the door to Victor’s room.

“Yep! I’ll see you in the morning,” Victor replied, opening his door. “Oh, and Yuuri, if you ever feel faint, I’ll catch you.“ He finished with a wink. At that, Victor slid his door shut, leaving Yuuri standing in the hallway, staring at the door. Something in his brain short circuited at the comment. Victor had heard everything. All of it. He was completely unable to process what Victor just said to him, and didn’t think he’d be able to even if he were well-rested. Blush flaming on his cheeks and heart pounding, Yuuri stumbled back to his room in a daze. Convinced he was delirious and had been hearing things, he rejected the possibility of Victor taking any interest in him. It was crazy. Maybe it had been a dream instead. It was easier to believe that he’d finally lost it. Shaking his head, he fell onto his bed, letting his phone slide to the floor.

The night ahead was sleepless, but far too short. Yuuri was still processing when the sun rose. Doing his best to shake it off, he prepared for practice with Victor. He knew it was going to be a very long day.

[sciencelings-writes]

Heart of Gold-Titanium Alloy: Chapter 1: The Curse of Peter Parker

find more chapters on here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127408

Peter had always had terrible luck. He assumed that it was just a curse after Uncle Ben died and now he was sure of it. He wasn’t sure how, but he had managed to go through four parents in less than sixteen years.

There wasn’t anything that he could’ve done. Aunt May was just on her way to work while he was on his way to school. They were miles apart but Peter felt like he should have been there. At least so she wouldn’t have been alone. But now she was gone. Just like Uncle Ben and his parents. So yeah, he was definitely cursed.

It had been hell to get the call while he was at school. He left the high school without telling anyone as being tardy to class was the least of his worries. He had taken the subway to the hospital that May had been rushed to. She was gone before he even arrived.

It was a blur from there. There was crying and an agent from some child related government service or something. Peter couldn’t make himself listen. All he heard was something about being young enough for foster care, not having any living relatives and an empty apology.

It was deja vu of Uncle Ben all over again. He had the same reaction of an explosion of emotion including unbearable anger and sadness followed quickly by numbness. It took a little while longer to get to the acceptance part of grief.

Despite being young and there being several years to get over it, Peter was still tormented by his parents deaths. Then there was the loss of Ben and he was back in the cycle. It was barely a year and a half to deal with Ben’s death before May joined him.

Peter was not known for his healthy coping mechanisms. He ditched his foster home as often as he could, he went out Spiderman-ing for hours longer than he usually did. Eventually he just decided to run away from his foster home. He was successfully homeless for a week before someone called CPS on him and he was back in the system. That was the cycle. It repeated itself four times until he met Harley.

Harley was his age and was the only one that treated him like he wasn’t made of glass. Harley’s mother died after they had moved to New York from Tennessee for a business opportunity. His little sister got adopted a years before Peter even met him. He didn’t take any of Peter’s shit when they were put in the same foster home. Of course, they became friends.  

Peter found out Harley was incredibly smart and had even helped Mr. Stark during the whole Mandarin thing. That was pretty cool. Harley was sarcastic and dry witted and was as much of a nerd as he was. Harley was also more confident than Peter could ever be. It was nice having more than one friend.

It took a month of lying to Mr. Stark and hoping that the billionaire didn’t care. After the whole vulture thing, Mr. Stark decided to not have Happy in between their communications. Thankfully, the guy was surprisingly easy to lie to. As long as they weren’t face to face. Then it was infinitely harder. Peter was honestly surprised that he was able to last so long.

He was out with Harley, avoiding their foster family, when he got the call. He looked at his phone and raised his eyebrows when he saw the caller ID that popped up. It was Mr.Stark. The caller picture that took up the screen was a rare picture of the billionaire looking ridiculous. He looked at Harley and showed his pseudo-sibling his phone.

“What the fuck? Does Tony just… call you?” Harley’s eyes went wide and he looked at the phone. “Well, answer him! You better tell me what he says. I thought your internship was terminated or whatever…” Peter rolled his eyes and answered the phone.

“H-hey Mr. Stark… what’s up?” Peter tried to sound casual but his voice broke and he stuttered so that didn’t work out so much.

“Hey kid, you okay? You sound nervous. Please don’t tell me you’re going after another animal themed super-villain behind my back…” Mr.Stark immediately sounded suspicious but Peter was kind of confident in his ability to keep big secrets. Not little ones, but the whole being Spider-Man one was relatively still a secret.

“I’m fine, everything’s fine…” Peter said too quickly before he covered the phones microphone and looked at Harley. “I’ll tell you what he says but can you give me a minute? You can get yourself a coffee or something…” He hissed as Harley rolled his eyes.

“Only if you’re paying.” Harley nodded and held out his hand for money. Peter sighed and managed to get his wallet and give Harley a five-dollar bill. Harley grinned and strolled into a nearby coffee shop. Peter put his attention back to his call.

“You are really bad at lying Mr.Parker. Tell me what’s up.” Mr.Stark ordered.

“I mean, it’s fine, it’s not a Spider-Man thing or anything…” Peter muttered.

“Spit it out. Come on, my time is precious. Did you get a girlfriend or something?” Peter could hear Mr.Stark smirking and he winced.

“No… I learned my lesson after homecoming. No girl deserves my flaking and all that. I’m not particularly desirable anyway. Uh, It’s not that. It’s not… anything like that. Don’t worry.” He rambled.

“When you say ‘don’t worry,’ I automatically worry. Just tell me.” Mr.Stark insisted.

“I swear that it’s nothing. I’m not dying or anything.” Peter winced at his own words. He may not be dying but it would’ve hurt less if he did instead.

“You better not be. Whatever, maybe if you ask your aunt if you can do an overnight thing for the internship, we can work on your suit in the compound. It’ll be fun.” Peter winced.

“Yeah… will do. I gotta go, I’m with a friend and I don’t want to keep him waiting.” Peter rushed his words because the last thing he wanted to do was tell Mr.Stark what was actually going on.

“I’ll find out what you’re hiding kid. I know that something is up. But i guess it’s good that you’re hanging out with your friend. Don’t do drugs, we don’t know how your body will react to heroin anyway, don’t take the tracker out of your suit and tell me if you get dramatically injured.” Mr.Stark ordered.

“Yeah yeah, of course. I’m not doing any drugs if NyQuil gets me sick. Maybe I should figure that out… I don’t want to get gravely injured and have no painkillers that will work. It’s too bad that Doctor Banner is off of the grid, he would be one of the best people to talk to, you know? If anyone knows about weird DNA, it’s the Hulk.” Peter rambled to try to convince Mr. Stark that he was fine and normal.

“Yeah that’s a good idea. There’s a woman in Korea that could be good at that kind of stuff, we could discuss it so you don’t have to worry about it. Anyway, bye kid, play with your legos or whatever.” Peter chuckled as he hung up and walked to the coffee shop where Harley was waiting with two lattes.

“So… what did he say? Why is your superhero boss calling you?” Harley took a danty sip out of his latte as he handed Peter the one that he got for him. Harley got Peter one of those brightly colored ones but he didn’t mind. The joke was on Harley as Peter loved unicorn themed foods.

“He was just checking up on me I guess. I was his personal intern so he could be worried about me? I’m not sure. That wasn’t it, apparently he wants me to work on him with some things up at the compound. At the moment, It’s nothing too cool. I’ll tell you when I get to work on rocket boots or something.” Peter shrugged and indulged in his overly sweet drink. “I think we’re going to be working with someone in Korea to work on medical stuff. I guess it would be helpful to use Starktech in the medical field.” Peter smiled as he thought about it.

“I mean yeah, didn’t Tony make those prosthesis for his friend? It would make sense that they would integrate the tech for other medical things. Imagine the kind of prosthesis he could make for people without limbs. Like dude, He could make an arm with more features than a smartphone.” Harley shrugged.

“I mean, imagine a robotic leg with a camera on the toes or something. Just do yoga and you could take a selfie. Someone could just have one rocket boot.” Peter grinned. It was a silly image.

“It would be hard to steal shit from you if it’s actually stored in your body. You could keep your tunes literally in your armpit.” Harley matched his grin. “I would have a compartment just for skittles.”

“What about rocket powered roller skates as default transportation? That would be fun…” Peter imagined Iron Man with roller skates instead of hoverboots. He would have to talk to Mr.Stark about it.

“Not quite practical but other than that… It’s a cool idea. Like extreme heelys.” This made Peter laugh a little.

“If I ever get a hold of an Iron Man suit, I am definitely adding retractable wheels that are motorized. Then when Mr. Stark is fighting aliens or whatever, he can roll away from attacks.” Peter made a little motion with his hand to demonstrate the greatness of wheely rocket shoes for a superhero.

“You better. If you do, you have to send me Tony’s reaction. I could see it being a perfect reaction image.”

“I’ll do my best. Mr. Stark does have some stellar facial expressions.”

“Why do you call him that. I mean, sure, he’s your boss kinda, but literally everyone calls him by his full name. I mean Tony Stark is a super iconic name.” Harley raised his eyebrow.

“I was kinda conditioned to call ‘adults’ by their titles out of respect.” Peter made air quotes when it was appropriate. “It kinda stuck. Mr. Stark teases me a little for it but it’s not like it’s that bad of a habit to have.” He shrugged and realized with disappointment that he was nearly done with his colorful latte.

“I’m not attacking you for it, I was just wondering. I mean it’s part of your whole goody-two-shoes polite kid thing right? You act all sweet and perfect but you run away from foster homes and get in fights at school.” Harley scoffed.

“I don’t get into fights.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Or at least I don’t start them… or continue them… Dude have you seen me? I’m a wimp.”

“Sure sure. Just because I’m six inches taller than you doesn’t mean that you’re a wimp. That just makes you tiny.”

“I’m not… tiny…” Peter muttered. Harley looked completely unimpressed. “Okay, I’m kinda small but tiny is going too far.” He admitted to Harleys delight. Harley liked being right and Peter had no problem admitting his faults. Even MJ practically towered over him. He had accepted that his maximum height would not exceed 5’6”.

His internal conflict about his lack of height was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“You’re popular today Pete…” Harley was only surprised because Peter rarely got calls, so two in the same hour was not normal for him.

“It’s probably Mr. Stark again. I haven’t told him what happened and he doesn’t like not knowing everything. I guess I must have been suspicious enough for him to look into it. I guess I’ll face the music or whatever the term is.” Peter's heart fluttered with anxiety as he answered his phone. “Hey, Mr. Stark, that was quick…”

This time Peter couldn’t make Harley leave so he was going to try to be discrete with the whole Spider-man stuff. If he had to. The problem wasn’t with Spider-Man though, It was with Peter. He was the one with the problems. Spider-Man was relatively unaffected. And that’s all that Mr. Stark cared about. Right?

“Kid.” Mr. Stark’s voice was soft through the phone’s receiver. “What… what happened.”

“I think you already know… Don’t tell be that you didn’t do some research in the last twenty minutes…” Peter’s voice was a little quieter than before.

“I just want to hear you say it. I want to know what happened.” Mr. Stark’s voice was uncharacteristically reserved and it left no doubt in Peter’s mind that the billionaire knew exactly what happened.

“Uh, A month ago, May was… she was in a car accident. I was at school so there was nothing I could do besides rush to the hospital. She was gone before I even got there. I don’t have any family so I got put in foster care. I ran away a few times… but I’m fine now. I have an almost brother and everything.” Peter really tried to sound convincing that he was fine even though he really wasn’t. Who would be?

“Peter…” Mr. Stark sighed. Oh no, he brought out the real names, this must be serious. Peter had been almost exclusively called some nickname by him so when the real names came out, it was not to just be ignored. “Why didn’t you say anything… I could’ve done something.”

“You’re my boss. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to force you to deal with my problems. If I’m honest, I haven’t even called Ned or anything. I’m still processing it myself…” Peter muttered as Harley awkwardly left to buy a pastry or something. Peter wanted to apologize but Harley had left earshot quickly enough not to take notice. He’ll say sorry when he comes back.  

“This isn’t like not telling me about your homework kid, this is… this is big. I wouldn’t want you to go through that alone. Been there, done that, you know?” For once, Mr. Stark sounded awkward but Peter assumed that it was because of the billionaires emotional constipation. He wasn’t used to trying to comfort people. Peter appreciate the attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah… thanks but, I don’t know. I’m just probably going to be in a temporary family until I can get my inheritance. Then I can buy an apartment or something. Apparently it’s not easy to get adopted as old as I am. And I’m not sure that I want to be thrown into a family for the rest of eternity. I just… I don’t know. Everything changed so fast and I have no idea what to do.” Peter found himself frantically rambling and stuttering out his ideas.

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t have a family then.” Mr. Stark commented quickly.

“Uh, what do you mean?” Peter said slowly.

“Peter, you don’t deserve any of this. I’m not just going to stand by and watch while there’s something that I can do. That’s kind of our motto right? Reckless superheroes and all.” Mr. Stark rushed his words but still managed to sound casual while he was changing Peter’s life. He seemed to do that a lot lately…

“Mr. Stark… I don’t… oh my god, are you serious? You would…” Peter could barely manage sentences as tears welled up in his eyes. While his mentor was emotionally constipated, Peter was the complete opposite. He’s an emotional mess but he didn’t feel bad over getting emotional now. This time he had a valid reason.

“I’m as serious as a terminal illness kid. I can get all of the paperwork done in no time and poof, no more foster care.” Mr. Stark promised. “My only requirement is that you call me Tony instead of the whole mister Stark crap.”

“I’ll try- I just-” Peter sniffled and wiped his tears away, obviously embarrassed. “I’d feel bad for leaving Harley, he’s my foster sibling kinda, we were paired in the same foster house. Apparently he met you during the whole extremis thing. Small world right?” Peter rambled because, holy shit, Tony Stark was serious about adopting him.

“Wait… Harley? Like Harley Keener? Potato gun kid? He’s not only in New York but also in the same foster care system as you?” Mr. Stark sounded surprised.

“Yeah, He said that you guys are connected. His mom uh, actually he can tell you himself. We’re avoiding our foster family and getting highly caffeinated.” Peter waved at Harley and motioned for him to come over. He rolled his eyes and took his time in strolling over.

“You know I’ll have to talk to Pepper but I think that she will agree with me on this whole thing. I think that she would be fine with having children that aren’t in diapers. You met her right?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty badass. I’m surprised that she’s not a superhero herself.” Peter tried to pull himself together before Harley came close enough to see the tears in his eyes. “So Harley just came over, wanna talk to him?” Peter was kind of anxious to let himself internalize what the hell was going on. And he wanted to see Harley react to talking to Tony. Peter still thought it was weird to call Mr. Stark by his first name but he would have to get used to it someday.

“Yeah, hand me to the other kid. I haven’t heard from him since he was like eleven.” Mr. Stark chuckled as Peter handed Harley the phone. Harley looked a little confused as he put his ear to the speaker.

“Hey Tony. What’s up.” Harley handed Peter the muffin that he had bought. Peter was not going to complain, he needed a lot of calories but he usually told Harley that it was because he had a normally high metabolism rather than a superhuman metabolism.

“I know, It’s because we’re connected.” Harley smirked at the phone. Peter tried not to use his super-hearing to intrude on their conversation, but it wasn’t that easy.

“Yeah, my mom died a few years ago. My little sister got adopted a while ago. I haven’t seen her in awhile. Actually I do still have that watch… come on, Pete looks like he just cried, what were you guys talking about?” Harley started out smiling but his expressions changed quickly.  First he looked shocked. Then he put his hand over his face as he started to tear up. He whispered to the receiver of Peters cellphone.

“Really? Tony, Jesus Christ… no. I’m not disappointed, you asshole. Don’t apologize, you didn’t know… shut up, I’m not crying… fine, not as much as Peter is though.” Harley smirked a little at Peter while trying and more successfully hiding his eyes well up.

“Shut up…” Peter muttered as he wiped his eyes again. He honestly didn’t think that he would have a family again. That anyone would actually want him. Then his childhood hero wants to adopt him as soon as he finds out what happened. It was, almost overwhelming. No, It definitely was overwhelming.

“Thank’s Tony… I guess you’ll see us soon. I think that we have to go soon anyway, it’s getting dark. Yeah, I’ll make Peter text you all that stuff. Now go call Pepper!” Harley weakly put down the phone and grinned at Peter.

“What the fuck just happened dude.” Peter’s comment made Harley laugh. Peter realized that this was the happiest he had been since Aunt May had died.

It felt pretty good.

[darling-cas]

We Are Young: Chapter 15

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

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“Follow the car at all times. Don’t take any detours. None whatsoever.”

Rowan had to bite the inside of his cheek. He held back his smile as Aelin gave him a pointed look.

“Yes dad,” she nodded. She handed her skating bag off to Rowan so he could load it up in the backseat of his truck. “We’ve already been over this. Loads of times.”

“And going over it once more isn’t going to hurt.” Rhoe raised an eyebrow at his daughter. “The weather is suppose to turn nasty the further north we get. So you need to-”

“Be careful and stay close to the car.” Aelin crossed her arms over her chest, facing her father. “I know, Dad.”

Rhoe’s eyebrows started to climb further up his forehead, the tension in the air slowly starting to turn thick. Rowan could tell Rhoe was going to make them ride with him and Evalin any minute. So before a full on argument between father and daughter could break out, Rowan stepped in.

“We’ll be behind you the whole time, Mr. Galathynius.” Rowan turned around as he closed the back door to his truck.

Rhoe shifted his gaze from Aelin to Rowan, that hard and intense look still shining in his eyes. The cold early-morning winter wind blew past them as the moment dragged on, until Rhoe took in a breath, nodding his head.

“Make sure everything is ready to go,” he said at last, eyes shifting from Rowan back to Aelin. “I’m going to make sure your mother is all ready to go.”

Without waiting for a reply, Rhoe turned on his heel and walked to where Evalin was standing next to their car.

“He’s been repeating himself ever since he found out about the bad weather in Allsobrook a few days ago,” Aelin said with a sigh, shaking her head. “It’s getting annoying.”

“He’s just worried.” Rowan leaned back against the truck, pulling his coat tightly around himself.

It was currently 5 AM, at the end of January. To say it was cold out was an understatement. They were going to leave for Nationals yesterday after school, but the adults decided to leave early the next morning instead, with Allsobrook being only a 5-hour drive away and Aelin not having to skate her long program until around mid-afternoon.

“I know,” Aelin sighed. “But he could worry a little less.”

“He’s your father, Aelin,” Rowan said. “He’s always going to worry.”

Aelin simply hummed her agreement before taking slow steps towards Rowan, a sly smile starting to form on her lips.

“And are you worried?” Aelin’s voice dropped slightly, making it so her parents and uncles couldn't hear her.

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “About the weather?”

“About being stuck in a car with just me for 5 hours.”

“No,” Rowan said. “Should I be?”

The smile on Aelin’s lips turned wicked. “Maybe. I can get very bored on long drives.”

“Is that so?” Rowan could feel his own smile pulling on the corner of his lips as Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “We may need to come up with some creative ways to keep me entertained.”

“I think we can think of something.”

Aelin leaned in a bit closer. “We may need to pull over too. It is early after all, and you’ll probably get tired at some point.”

“It’s possible.” Rowan’s voice was rough as he spoke.

“I’m sure my father would understand.”

“I’m sure he would.”

Rowan could feel Aelin’s lips brush his as he spoke, feel her breath on his face as she laughed. But just before he could pull her closer, take her lips fully against his, Evalin called out.

“Okay everyone. Let’s get going.”

A groan left Aelin’s lips as Rowan chuckled, though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t extremely disappointed with the loss of contact.

After a few short moments of goodbyes and Rhoe telling them one last time to be careful and follow the car, they all piled into their respective vehicles and started the five hour drive towards Nationals.

It was a beautiful morning if Rowan was being honest, despite how cold it was. The sun was just starting to rise above the treeline, and the sky was a mix of dark blue, purple, and orange. A light fluffy blanket of snow covered the ground.

It was breathtaking. The calm before the storm.

Rowan drove down the road and out of town, always staying behind the car in front of him. The last thing he wanted was to get on his girlfriend's father's bad side.

Evalin and Rhoe were driving to Allsobrook with Weylan and Orlan. Lysandra and Aedion were leaving later on that morning, after Lysandra’s doctor's appointment at 9am. Nehemia was driving down with her parents later on in the morning as well. Aelin’s Uncle Gavirel and Aunt Ashlin were driving down tomorrow morning to watch her skate her long program. That left Rowan and Aelin to drive down alone in his truck. Something he was sure only happened because there wasn’t enough room for Rhoe, Evalin, Weylan and Orlon plus him and Aelin in their car. Really, Rhoe still wasn’t too fond of the idea, but Rowan was positive Evalin had convinced him it was okay. Something Rowan was grateful for.

And Aelin didn’t know it, but Fenrys, Connall, and Vaughan were also making the trip to watch her. Along with Dorian, Chaol, and Elide. Rowan asked them all a few weeks back what they thought of driving to Nationals to surprise Aelin and watch her compete. They all agreed immediately.

Rowan couldn't wait to see the look on Aelin’s face when she saw everyone there. All her friends, people she loved and cared so much about, watching her. Supporting her. Loving her. Being there for her.

Just the thought warmed his heart.

Taking his eyes off the road for half a second, Rowan glanced over at Aelin. She was curled up in the seat, feet tucked under her as she scrolled through her phone, lightly humming along to the music coming from the speakers.

She looked so comfortable. So content and relaxed. So breathtaking.

Rowan felt his heart leap at the sight before he turned back to the road.

Over the past month, the moments he and Aelin could spend together were few and far between. With all of Aelin’s extra practices thrown in on top of her old practice times, plus hockey practice and games for Rowan, not to mention school, it was hard to find a time where they could hang out just the two of them. So to have these 5 hours where it was just him, Aelin, and the open road, it was nice.

“Where are the snacks?” Aelin leaned into the backseat of the truck, digging through bags. “Don’t tell me they’re in the car with mom and dad.”

“We haven’t even been on the road for an hour yet, Aelin.” Rowan couldn't help but laugh as he spoke, quickly glancing over at Aelin. “How do you need snacks already?”

“I haven’t eaten yet today,” Aelin sat back in her chair, pulling on her phone before bringing it to her ear. “Hi mom. Are you stopping anytime soon? I’m hungry and I think the snacks are in the car with you…”

“If you keep this up they’re going to make us get in the car with them.” Rowan shook his head.

Aelin’s response was to stick her tongue out at him.

The past month had been like taking a breath of fresh air. Rowan couldn't remember the last time he’d been so happy, content. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed so easily, constantly wore a smile on his face. All of those things were getting easier and easier every day. Sure, there were still bad days, both he and Aelin had them. But they were always there for each other, always helping and comforting one another.

All of this, the smiles and laughs, was because of the blonde beauty sitting in the seat next to him.

Aelin made it easy. It was easy to be happy around her, to laugh at the witty things she said. Everything they did, it was easy. As if they were fated to be together all along. And the easiest thing of all, was how easy it was for him to love her. With his fully broken and healing heart.

A heart that was becoming fuller each and every day. Because of Aelin.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rowan flicked his gaze over to Aelin. She was curled up on the seat again, her elbow resting on the centre console. Her chin was rested on her hand as she gazed up at him, a sly smile pulling on her full lips.

“How easy everything is between us,” Rowan answered truthfully. He sent Aelin his own smile before turning back to the road. “How beautiful you are. And how much I love you.”

“Hmmm,” Aelin’s smile grew wider. “Go back to how beautiful I am, that one was my favourite.”

A deep chuckle escaped Rowan’s lips. “Of course it was.”

He expected another witty reply, another sarcastic comment. He waited for it but it didn’t come.

Moving his gaze back over to Aelin, Rowan found her watching him with a far off look in her eyes, that smug smile still on her lips.

“What are you thinking, fireheart?”

The gold in her eyes seemed to burn brighter. “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

Rowan felt a pull in the pit of his stomach at the tone in her voice.

“I think I do.”

Aelin leaned in closer to Rowan, as close as she could get. Tearing his gaze from the road, Rowan watched as her eyes sparkled in the early morning light.

“I’m thinking,” her voice dropped as she looked at him through her lashes for a moment longer before pulling back, “how much your taste in music sucks. Like, what is this?”

Rowan let out a breath before rolling his eyes, his gaze going back to the road.

“You think everyone's taste in music sucks if it isn’t the same as yours.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan saw Aelin unplug his phone before plugging in hers.

“I’m taking over the radio, Buzzard.”

No sooner than when the words left her mouth, the opening chords of an AC/DC song started to fill the truck.

Rowan fought back another roll eye, but a laugh did make its way onto his lips. Of course Aelin would want to listen to rock music before seven in the morning.

For a long moment, the heavy guitar was the only sound that filled the truck. A comfortable silence fell around them as they continued to drive down the road, still trailing the car.

“I love you too, by the way.”

Rowan cut his gaze back to Aelin, only to find her watching him again. Gone was the sly smile. It was replaced with a more loving and tender one, her eyes swimming with emotion.

“Just thought you should know.” Her eyes twinkled as she gave a lazy shrug of her shoulders.

Rowan reached between them, intertwining his fingers with Aelin’s as he brought her hand to his lips, placing a cherishing kiss on it.

“I know you do,” he said. “But I’ll never get tired of hearing you say it.”

“Good.” Aelin’s smile grew wider. “Because I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, Rowan turned back to the road, keeping their fingers locked as he drove. His heart swelled with warmth and love.

He really did, and always would, love his fireheart. To whatever end.

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Saying the weather got bad when they were just 2 hours away from Allsobrook was an understatement. The roads were coated in a slick layer of snow and ice. The wind howled and raged outside the truck. Snow came down from the sky so thick that Rowan almost couldn't see the car in front of him.

It took them almost an extra two hours to finally pull into the Allsobrook ice rink parking lot. They thankfully all made it, safe and sound.

They bundled up in their coats before braving the ice and snow, and grabbed all the bags they needed before racing off towards the main entrance of the arena.

Stepping through those double doors, was like stepping into another world.

The first thing that hit Rowan’s nose was the smell of hairspray. A lot of hairspray.

Multiple people stood around the lobby. Some were getting their hair and makeup done. Some were running in place, jumping up and down, warming up. Some were simply talking. But most were lined up by the table set up next to the entrance that lead to the bleachers.

The atmosphere was crazy and intense. A different kind of intense than he was used to from hockey games. This was of a more quiet tension. A deadly tension. There was no yelling or cheering or whistling. Every skater was in their own world, their own little bubble. There were no team chants or dance parties. There was just a low hum of talk between skaters and coaches.

Rowan’s eyes flicked over to Aelin, who was standing next to him with her skating bag thrown over her shoulder. Her eyes shined bright in the lobby light, excitement written all over her face.

Rowan was better when it came to loud, raging tension. The tension of a battle field. But Aelin, Aelin was trained for this. A quiet deadly atmosphere.

This was what she lived for.

“Get registered and met us in the stands,” Weylan spoke up, glancing over at Aelin as he walked past her. “We’re already running late.”

And just like that, with just a quick smile from Olron, both the coaches were gone.

Rowan shot Aelin a confused look. “We have another two or so hours before you skate.”

“Yeah, that’s late to Uncle Weylan,” Aelin sighed.

“We’re normally here four hours before she skates,” Rhoe chuckled, coming up from behind. “We’ll be with your uncles in the stands. Here, give me your bags.”

Rowan and Aelin passed over the few bags they had - the ones that mainly contained Aelin’s make-up, hair products, and dress. The only bag that Aelin kept was her skating bag. I hate letting it out on my sight on competition day, she told him once.

Once Rhoe and Evalin left, making their way after Weylan and Orlon, Rowan and Aelin started to make their way to the registration line.

“Skating competitions are far more intense than hockey games,” Rowan admitted as he glanced around the room, taking in all the warm ups and pep talks going on around them.

“Of course they are.”Aelin turned around to face him, a teasing smile on her face. “That’s because you hockey players are big babies.”

Rowan simply rolled his eyes. But he couldn’t stop the smile that started to pull on his lips as Aelin took a step towards him.

“Are you getting intimidated by all the figure skaters, Buzzard?”

Rowan decided to amuse her. “If they’re all like you, then yes.”

A laugh bubbled out of Aelin’s lips. But before she could comment, someone’s back collided into her.

“Fuck. I’m sorry…” The tall, dark haired boy turned around. However, when his gaze landed on Aelin, his hazel eyes started to sparkle with laughter. “Well look who it is. I should have known.”

Rowan watched in confusion as an over dramatic sigh made its way out of Aelin’s mouth, and a sly smile slowly formed on her lips.

“And here I was having a good day.”

“Is this our thing now?” Long-haired guy said, as if Aelin hadn’t even spoken. “Banging into each other at competitions?”

Rowan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between the two as Aelin rolled her eyes.

“Isn’t your thing at competitions hanging out in front of the bathrooms?” There was laughter lacing her voice as she pointed behind her. “The ladies room is that way, by the way.”

“Look at you with all the jokes.” A laugh left the stranger's lips as he crossed his arms. “This is much better than the looks of pure death you were giving me last time.”

“Don’t worry. I can kill you 32 different ways with just a bobby pin. And there are tons of those around today.”

“Of course you can. Why am I not surprised?” The stranger shook his head before his gaze turned to Rowan. “Be careful with this one, she’s scary when she’s in a mood.”

Despite the slight weariness he was feeling, Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Trust me,” he said, wrapping an arm around Aelin’s shoulders. “I know.”

“I’d be careful with what you say if I were you.” Aelin narrowed her eyes at Rowan, but laughter lit up her face as a smile tugged at her lips. Then she turned back to the guy in front of them. “I guess I should introduce you guys. Cassian, this is my boyfriend Rowan. Rowan, Cassian. He skates with the Velaris Starlight Skating Club.”

“Hey, man.” Cassian held out his hand, and Rowan accepted the shake.

“Hey.”

“Cassian, what the hell are you doing?”

Rowan glanced over Cassian’s shoulder, and saw two more boys making their way towards them. They both had the same dark hair as Cassian, just much shorter, and the same tan skin. One even had the same hazel eyes while the others were violet. In Rowan’s opinion, the three could have passed as brothers.

The one with violet eyes groaned as they came to a stop.

“Where are the bags? Did you even go to the car yet?”

“Nesta already said she’s going to burn off your balls four times.” The other one spoke, causing Cassian to roll his eyes.

“She says that four times a day anyways,” he said. But Rowan could have sworn he saw some fear flash in his eyes. “I got distracted. Look who I had the pleasure of banging into.”

Two pairs of eyes turned to Aelin and Rowan, a smile lighting up the face of the one with the violet eyes.

Aelin returned the smile. “Hey, Rhysand.”

“Hey Aelin,” he said, clapping a hand on the back of the boy next to him. “You didn’t meet Azriel last time, did you?”

Aelin shook her head before sticking out her hand. Slowly, Azriel accepted the handshake, giving her a nod and a smile.

“This is Rowan.” She introduced him again as Rowan shook their hands, saying a quick hello.

“It’s good to see you again,” Rhysand said with a smile, “but we really need to get going. The girls are in the bathroom getting ready and Cass was supposed to quickly go get the bag of makeup left in the car. But clearly, he loves pissing off Nesta too much.”

“That woman gets pissed off no matter what I do.” Cassian rolled his eyes.

“But now you’re going to have a pissed off Nesta and Mor on your hands.” Azriel pointed out.

Cassian took in a breath. “Damn.”

Aelin laughed as a chuckle worked its way out of Rowan’s lips. They all said a quick goodbye, with promises to see each other again before the competition ended, then it was just Rowan and Aelin in line by themselves.

The registration line moved pretty quickly. When they reached the table, Aelin stated her name and where she skated before passing in her music. They handed her a badge that said “skater” before sending them on through the double doors.

If Rowan thought the lobby was intense, it was nothing compared to being in the actual stadium.

With hockey, the crowd was loud and rowdy. They were always yelling and cheering, and never a quiet moment. But there, at the skating competition, it was almost the opposite.

It wasn’t quiet by any means. But there was no trash talk, no screaming. The stands were packed and people cheered when a skater entered the ice, landed a jump, and left the ice. Music filled the space around them. Skaters were jogging around the rink, warming up. The smell of hairspray grew, if that was even possible.

Rowan stood there for a moment, taking it all in. It was only when he felt a hand slide into his that he blinked.

Glancing down, he took in Aelin’s face. The small smile on her lips, the nervous twinkle in her bright eyes. The sight of her looking up at him like that caused his heart to jump in his chest.

Returning the smile, Rowan gave her hand a squeeze, and they made their way hand in hand to where her parents and uncles were sitting.

“Okay,” Weylan said when he saw Rowan and Aelin walking towards him. “Let’s get a move on. You need to get ready and start your warm up. We’re behind because of the bad weather.”

“Go get dressed and ready, then meet us by the canteen to start your warm up,” Orlon added. “You have to be on the ice in an hour and a half, so say your good lucks now. You won’t be back until after your skate.”

Rowan could tell Aelin was resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she nodded, while her Uncles left to walk around and scope out the competition.

“Come on, Aelin,” Evalin said, picking up the bags of makeup and hair products.

Aelin gave Rowan one more smile before letting go of his hand, following after her mother as they walked towards the bathrooms.

Rowan sat in the stands with Rhoe, talking and watching the competition going on around them. It didn’t take long for Nehemia and her family to show up, joining them. She asked him if they had heard from Lysandra and Aedion yet, but Rowan shook his head.

“It’s gotten really bad out,” Nehemia's mother said. “They’re probably just really taking their time. Especially because Lysandra’s pregnant.”

Rhoe nodded. “They’ll be here soon.”

The group continued to chat and watch the competition. Nehemia answered some of the questions Rowan had about exactly how the competition worked, while the adults held their own conversation.

Rowan couldn't help but shake his head as Nehemia explained the judging system to him.

“And I thought hockey rules could get complicated.”

“The rules of hockey only seem complicated because your little brains can’t comprehend them.”

Looking up, Rowan felt all the air leave his lungs.

Aelin stood before them, dressed in a strappy, black skating dress that sparkled beautifully in the light. Her long, blonde curls were pulled back in a tight bun, and her eyes seemed to be shining brighter than ever against her dark eye makeup, as her dark red lips pulled back into a sly smile.

She was the most breathtaking assassin Rowan had ever seen.

“You look beautiful, Aelin,” Nehemia said as she stood up from her seat next to Rowan.

“You made it!” Aelin smiled brightly as Nehemia walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. “Any word on Lys and Aedion yet?”

Nehemia shook her head. “They’ll be here soon. The roads are horrible, so Aedion’s probably taking his time.”

“He better be taking his time.” Evalin placed all the bags down before turning to her daughter. “And you’d better get going - your Uncles are waiting.”

Aelin nodded her head, her mother pulling her in for a hug. Evalin kissed Aelin’s forehead, wishing her good luck before her father stepped in.

Once everyone else had wished her a good skate, Rowan stepped forward. He pulled her as close to him as possible, holding her to his chest.

“You made it, Fireheart,” he whispered into her hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“I did,” she said softly, taking a step back. She gazed up at Rowan with a look of pure happiness and love on her face before placing the softest kiss on his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

With one last kiss, Aelin stepped back. She waved and said goodbye to everyone one more time before grabbing her skating bag.

“Hey,” Rowan called out to her, as she started to walk away. She turned to him, raising a questioning eyebrow as a smile formed on Rowan’s lips. “Go rattle the stars, okay?”

A smile slowly grew on Aelin’s lips. She sent Rowan a wink before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

And as he watched her go, Rowan knew, no matter what, those stars didn’t stand a chance against his fireheart.

--------------------

Aelin had never felt so happy with herself after skating a routine than she did in that moment.

She wasn’t at all nervous before she’d stepped out onto the ice. The smile she’d had on her face wasn’t half as forced as it normally was. She had gone out there and skated her Assassins Tango short program as if she were simply skating it at practice. She didn’t once think about the fact that she was finally skating at Nationals.

Even so, it still wasn’t her best skate. She didn’t even try her triple-triple and she slipped off the edge of her triple flip. But in the end, she couldn't help but feel pleased with herself.

Because as she sat in the kiss & cry, her marks flashing on the screen before her, she finally let it sink in that she had just skated at Nationals.

She had just skated at Nationals.

Just the thought alone made her head spin.

But she didn’t just skate at Nationals. She had skated her way into 3rd place.

And going into the long program in 3rd place at Nationals wasn’t bad.

But what really hit home for her, what really made her heart sing, was the fact that when she looked up in the stands as the crowd cheered, she found Rowan watching her, clapping for her as a giant smile lit up his face.

Aelin hoisted her skating bag further up her shoulder. She weaved in and out of the crowds of people in the stands, slowly making her way towards her friends and family, the smile never completely leaving her face.

“You did amazing, sweetie.” Evalin pulled her daughter into her arms as she approached the group. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, mom.” Aelin smiled, glancing around. “Where’s dad?”

“Your Uncle Gavriel called just as you finished your skate,” Evalin explained. “He stepped outside to take the call. He’ll be back in a minute.”

Aelin simply nodded. Then her eyes landed on Rowan.

She couldn't help herself as a giant grin broke out on her face. Their eyes locked and Aelin knew she would never forget the look of pure pride and love on his face. Just that look alone had Aelin’s heart racing as she ran towards him. She dropped her bag at her feet before jumping into Rowan’s waiting arms. He pulled her as close to him as he possibly could, placing a loving kiss on her forehead.

“I am so proud of you, Fireheart.” He whispered in her ear.

And in that moment, Aelin realized that it didn’t matter if she placed 1st or not. As long as she had Rowan, her family, and her friends by her side, as long as she made them proud and skated her best, that’s all that mattered.

Though, placing 1st wouldn't hurt.

“Thank you, Buzzard,” Aelin breathed, as Rowan placed her on her feet. She placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Guys. Easy on the PDA, will ya.”

Aelin’s eyes grew wide as she glanced over Rowan’s shoulder. She couldn't believe her eyes for a moment before her smile seemingly grew even bigger.

Fenrys, Connall, and Vaughan were standing there along with Dorian, Chaol and Elide. All of them smiling at her.

“Oh my god!” She couldn’t help but laugh, walking over to Fenrys and pulling him into a hug. “What are you all doing here?”

“Watching you, obviously,” Dorian chuckled, placing a kiss on Aelin’s cheek as she hugged him.

“It was Rowan’s idea,” Connall explained, “but we were more than happy to come.”

Elide laughed as Aelin tightly wrapped her arms around her. “You looked amazing out there.”

“Thank you,” Aelin stepped back, glancing around at everyone. Her eyes stopped on Rowan for a moment, taking in the smile on his face as he watched her. Just the sight had Aelin’s smile growing even bigger. “Thank you.”

“Skate like that tomorrow and you’re going to knock everyone else off the podium,” Nehemia said, coming up behind Aelin before pulling her in for a hug.

Aelin pulled back with a smile, but it fell as she glanced around her group of her friends once more.

“Lys and Aedion still not here?” She turned her gaze back to Nehemia.

The look of worry and fear that filled Nehemiah's gaze did little to calm Aelin’s nerves as she shook her head slowly.

“No,” she said. “I’ve called, but neither of them have answered their phones.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Vaughan said. “It probably got so bad out that they pulled over somewhere. Their phones could be dead or they have no service.”

His words did little to calm Aelin’s worry as she and Nehemia shared a look.

Suddenly, an arm gently wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“Try not to worry too much, fireheart,” Rowan said, kissing the top of her head.

Aelin took a deep breath. She nodded her head, smiling up at Rowan. Her heart soared with happiness as he gave her the smallest breathtaking smile.

“Rhoe? What’s wrong?”

Aelin turned her head at the sound of her mother's voice, only to find her father slowly walking towards them. His hair was a mess and covered in snow, as was his jacket. But it was the look in his eyes, on his face, that caused Aelin’s heart to stop in her chest before completely shattering.

Suddenly, it was two years ago. Aelin had just walked through the front door of her house after getting coffee with Nehemia and Lysandra after a long practice. She was feeling good, she landed her double flip early, thanks to Sam’s help.

“Mom, dad!” She had called out as she walked through the front door. “I’m home!”

Her parents came out of the living home then. Aelin froze in place as she took in her mom's tear-stained face. Her father's sorrowful eyes. Before either of them had spoken, Aelin had felt her whole world completely stop.

And as her father glanced around the group, his eyes stopping on his wife before moving to his daughter, Aelin had the same feeling. The same feeling of dread and heartache.

It felt like the world came to a halt around her once more.

Her heart froze as Rowan’s grip on her tightened.

Then her father said the same words he had said to her all of those nights ago. The night her parents told her Sam was dead.

The pain and regret that shined in Rhoe’s eyes were blinding as he took a breath, his voice shaking as he spoke.

“There’s been an accident.” 

[mhalachai]

*sidles in* May I know what this idea about BiW Vitya as Natasha's biological father?

you mean AKA the uncertain custody storyline no one asked for?

The super-short version: Viktor finds out that a fling in his early 20s resulted in a baby, goes on a mission to find out a) if it’s true and b) if the kid is okay, and through the power of love and understanding (and Natasha’s 9-year-old infatuation with Mila Babicheva (it’s right after the 2018 Olympics K)) Viktor signs over his parental rights and Steve becomes Natasha’s second adoptive father, and everyone is happy if not a little wistful when thinking about what might have beens (I have Firm Opinions on adoptive families ok)

That’s the 91-word summary. 

But how about the 4070-word version?

Okay so backstory for those readers who aren’t into all the fandoms: Hands of Clay is a Marvel Cinematic Universe domestic kidfic AU where Bucky Barnes (the Winter Soldier) adopted Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) as a baby and Clint Barton (Hawkeye) is the son of Steve Rogers (Captain America) and Sharon Carter (Agent 13), and Bucky and Steve meet up again after years apart and fall in love over the course of 300K+ words etc. Blood in the Water is a Yuri!! On Ice preternatural AU in which Viktor Nikiforov (Russian figure skating mega-star) ‘s mother is a rusalka (aka a murderous Russian water nymph) and Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor’s husband and figure-skating coachee, is confused a lot of the time.

K it does sound a little weird when I write it out like that.

SO THE STORY GOES A LITTLE LIKE THIS

In the original Hands of Clay, Natasha’s mother was an undocumented Russian teenager living in New York and she had the baby and was like K I’m out and handed the baby over to hospital authorities and noped on back to Russia (or Canada, I wasn’t clear where I left that) and before infant Natasha could be adopted out of foster care, she caught whooping cough and ended up in the hospital for months and her social worker (Nick Fury) spotted a newly demobbed Bucky Barnes one day and was like “hey! Come meet this tiny infant “ because Nick watched Bucky in the Rangers for 8 years and was a pretty good judge of character and anyway tl;dr Bucky ended up adopting Natasha and the story begins 4.5 years later when Natasha is five.

In the HoC/BitW mashup, the mother shifts to a young woman (like early 20s) with whom Viktor Nikiforov had a wild week-long fling in mid-2008, then they parted ways with seeming no further thought. Only, surprise. The mother wasn’t sure what to do; like, she really didn’t want a kid but she didn’t want to have an abortion and she gave a bit of thought to finding Viktor and handing the kid over, but she procrastinated on the details until month 8.5 when Natasha was born early and the mother took a look at the baby, said “hey you can name her Natasha,” signed over her parental rights for adoption, and went back to her life. And see above for whopping cough and adoption by Bucky etc.

Now: the mash-up begins in March or April 2018, soon after Yuuri has won a gold medal in Men’s Figure Skating at the PyeongChang 2018 Winter Olympics. Viktor, who has retired from competition (for real this time), gets a letter from someone (probably not the woman; maybe a parent or grandparent who bears more of a grudge against Viktor for “robbing” them of a grandchild) telling him about the baby and the details, and Viktor is understandably floored. Flabbergasted. Flummoxed. His first reaction is to think it’s a hoax, as he has been the victim of extortion attempts before. But Yuuri takes it far more seriously, and asks Viktor if he really wants to follow up on it, or if he would rather not know if he has a kid somewhere out in the world.

Without getting into the epic back and forths (and how hard Yakov rolled his eyes when Viktor said he might have had a kid with some mystery woman when he was 20) Viktor ends up engaging a lawyer in New York to open an inquiry with Child Protective Services to see what happened to the child. There’s a lot I don’t know about adoption law in New York but as Viktor never knew about the child and never terminated his parental rights, there could be Ground For Something. Viktor doesn’t know what, just… he remembered what it was like to have a caregiver who hated him, and being abandoned by his only parental figure, and he has to find out what happened.

The lawyer does their legal thing. Which lands in the lap of Nick Fury, deputy director of New York's Child Protective Services. Who in turn goes to visit Bucky to lay this all out for him, because it’s several months after Steve and Bucky got married and they’re in the process of having Steve adopt Natasha legally, only this throws everything into chaos.

Bucky freaks out, briefly considers taking Natasha and moving to Omaha where this possible birth father can’t find them, then calls Steve at work who does two things – one, calls the lawyer who is helping them with the adoption (Jennifer Walters, Bruce Banner’s cousin and legal rock star) and two goes up to Tony Stark’s lab and says, “Tony, I know we’re friends and I’ve never asked you for anything in my entire life,” and Tony’s panicking, like does Steve have cancer? Is it brain cancer? (Tony spends a lot of time worrying about brain cancer) and Steve goes on, “Someone might try to take Natasha away from us, we might need help,” and bam, Tony’s there.

Once Jennifer gets in touch with Viktor’s lawyer, the first suggestion is a paternity test to see if this is even a thing, and that means that Natasha has to be told about it. She’s nine now, and understandably freaked out by everything, but Bucky has always been really clear that they’re a family and he is never letting anyone take Natasha way from their family, and that calms the girl more than it calms Bucky.

(Clint’s understandably wrathful and upset, which is a change in such an easy-going kid, and he gets into a little trouble at school and there are some Very Special Conversations that have to happen)

The test results come in and there’s a paternity match, which kind of destroys Bucky a little bit more on the inside, but Steve’s not daunted, he’s ready for battle. There’s a back and forth with the lawyers and Jennifer comes to them with a suggestion, that they have a short meeting with the birth father and his husband, where he can meet Natasha, as his lawyer has indicated that his client was unsure on next steps to take. “This is good news,” Jennifer assures Bucky and Steve. “If he was certain he was going to sue for custody, the papers would already be filed with the judge. Talk to him, and show him that Natasha is in the best place here.”

“You think he’ll take one look at us and just decide to go back home to Russia, after all the money he’s poured into the lawyers so far?” Bucky demands.

“I think it’ll be more chance of a positive outcome if we can convince this guy that there’s no reason for anything to change,” Jennifer retorts.

So they arrange for a meeting at Steve’s office in Stark Tower (“Because, Bucky, this way he doesn’t know where we live, and there’s the security staff on every door in case he tries anything, all right?”) and Clint’s angry he’s not included and has to be in school that afternoon, but Natasha just brushes her hair and makes sure she’s very cute in her school uniform (Natasha knows how to use Cute For Her Own Purposes) and she’s so nervous but Bucky has told her three times that this is just to say hello, and if anyone tries anything, well, Bucky was in the Army and he knows how to Handle A Situation (Steve was not in the room for this part of the conversation).

And then Viktor and Yuuri show up.

They’re ushered into the meeting room (one of the more impressive ones, Steve’s flair for showmanship is showing) and there’s this super-awkward moment of omg what do we do then Steve’s on his feet and going over to introduce himself and shake hands, and Yuuri’s so nervous he almost trips over a chair and Viktor can’t take his eyes off Natasha, and on the other side of the room, Bucky is shook. Because Natasha is the spitting image of her biological father (or, to Yuuri and Viktor, she looks exactly like Viktor’s mother).

Steve introduces Bucky, and hands are again shaken, and Natasha hasn’t moved from her seat by the window because, nervous and none too happy. Everyone sits down and there’s a moment of silence before Natasha decides that she’s had quite enough of the adults deciding things about her life; she’s nine and practically grown up.

“Hi,” she says, nice and loud so everyone knows she means business. She looks at Yuuri. “You have the same name as a figure skater.”

Yuuri goes a little pink in the face. “I am the figure skater.”

All of Natasha’s plans come to a screeching halt, as This Changes Everything. “You are?” she exclaims, sliding off her chair. “We did a whole unit on the Olympics in school, we watched everything. I love the figure skating the best, it’s like dance and I love dance!”

There’s a tiny smile on Viktor’s face now, but he just sits back and watches.

“Oh!” Natasha’s mouth falls open, and her eyes get wide. “You won the gold medal! Do you know Mila Babicheva? She won the gold too!” Natasha clasps her hands together in infatuated joy. “She’s so pretty, and funny, and she broke two world records!”

“Yes, I know Mila,” says Yuuri. “She trains with us in St. Petersburg, that’s where we live. But you should ask Viktor, he trained with her for far longer than I’ve known her.”

Natasha turns her attention to Viktor. “Why, are you a figure skater too?”

Yuuri’s head nearly explodes, as the idea of someone asking Viktor freaking Nikiforov if he’s a figure skater too, but Viktor just smiles. “Yes, I was,” Viktor says. “I retired just before the new year began.”

“So you know Mila?”

“I do.” Viktor pulls out his phone, and scrolls down in his pictures. “Mila is a good friend. She babysat our dog Makkachin when we went to visit Yuuri’s family last summer.”

Natasha scurries closer to look at the picture, and Bucky has to make a real effort to not grab his kid and run out of the room. But so far, things are going well.

“That’s a cool dog,” Natasha agrees. “We have a dog, his name is Lucky! And Mila looks so happy! Is she really nice?”

“Mila is very nice,” Viktor says, putting his phone away. “I can get her to send you an autographed poster, if you want?”

Natasha jumps up and down in glee. Her infatuation with Mila started hard during the Olympics, and she’s watched all the video clips of Mila’s performances on YouTube. A real poster signed by Mila herself would be so awesome!

“Nat,” Bucky says, unable to stop himself, “Come on.” He beckons her over, and she goes to cling to his arm.

“Dad, did you hear?” she squeals. “Mila is going to sign a poster for me!”

Bucky puts his hand on Natasha’s back, feeling like he’s going to throw up. But he has to keep a straight face and not screw this up or he could lose his little girl. “That’s great, honey. But these men are here to talk about you, not Mila.”

Natasha subsides, but she’s still full of happy energy.

Viktor reaches into the small bag at his side. “I did not know what is the proper etiquette in this situation, but I brought you a present.” He pulls out a small framed painting. “This is of St. Petersburg, in Russia. This is the place I live, with Yuuri. This is where my family comes from.”

Natasha looks at it, but it’s far less exciting than talking about Mila Babicheva. “Thank you,” she says dutifully. “Do your mom and dad live there now?”

Viktor, after setting the painting down, makes an apologetic motion with his hands. “No. My mother, she died a very long time ago. My father, he moved to America when I was twelve, to teach at a college near Boston.”

“Oh.” Natasha considers this. “What about my mom?”

Viktor’s smile freezes on his face. Steve jumps in. “Natasha, remember what Nick Fury said. Your adoption was a closed one, so we can’t know anything about your mother.”

Natasha twists her fingers up in her shirt.

Viktor clears his throat. “I can tell you a few things about her,” he says cautiously. “I can tell you that you have her hair, and green eyes like her.”

Natasha looks at him, her green eyes shining.

“And when I knew her, she was very smart, and very funny, and very kind. She had a very nice laugh, and loved to tell jokes. We Russian people do, you know.”

“I like to tell jokes, too,” Natasha breathes. “And I’m smart, too!”

“I have no doubt.” Viktor’s smile is halfway back to normal. “Are you in school?”

“Of course I’m in school.” Natasha’s indignation makes Viktor smile more. “I’m in the fourth grade. And I’m in ballet, and I take karate and judo and I’m really good even if I’m short.”

“Ah, short people have lots of energy,” Viktor says.

“You’re in ballet?” Yuuri says at the same time.

“Yeah.” Natasha scrunches up her nose, something Viktor does when he’s frustrated, and Yuuri’s heart skips a beat. “I’m okay. Madame says I don’t have the passion necessary for a prima ballerina. Which is dumb. My karate sensei says I’m full of…” She thinks a moment. “Unbridled intensity.”

Bucky pats Natasha’s back. “Ballet is more of a team activity here,” he says. “Martial arts lets Natasha be more individualistic.”

“I understand,” Viktor says gravely. “I like figure skating for that very reason.”

Natasha goes back to her chair and sits down regally. “Tell me more about you,” she demands. “What’s your job?”

“Currently, I am a figure skating coach and choreographer,” Viktor replies. “I also skate in ice shows. But alas, I have had to bow out of competitive skating. I am too old.”

“How old are you?” Natasha asks.

“I am twenty-nine.”

Natasha turns to Yuuri. “I know you’re twenty-five,” she says. “It says so on your Wikipedia page. I read it. I read all the wiki pages for the figure skaters.”

“I am,” Yuuri acknowledges.

“Are you married?” Natasha asked, her eyes round.

Viktor and Yuuri exchange a glance. “Yes,” Viktor says. “We were married last Christmas.”

Natasha accepts this without batting an eyelash. “That’s neat. My dads got married last summer, and I was Dad’s best man, and I had a really pretty dress and I got to make a speech and everything.”

“That sounds very fun.”

“It was.” And this is where Natasha fixes Viktor with a steely glare, something she’s picked up on from watching Bucky over the years. “And then Steve was going to adopt me so I’ll have two dads, but then you came around.”

“Yes,” Viktor says, very quietly. “I did.”

“Why?”

Viktor isn’t smiling now. “Because when I learned about you, I did not know what had become of you. In Russia, children without parents sometimes go to orphanages, or to homes that are not safe. I did not know how it happens in America.”

“I’m not like that,” Natasha counters, kicking her feet. “I already have a good dad, and a good home, and a good school, and once Steve adopts me I’ll have another dad and a brother and a grandpa and aunts.”

“I am very glad to hear that,” Viktor says.

Bucky stirs. “Nat, honey, can you go out and talk to Billy and Noh-Varr for a little while?”

Natasha whips her head around. “I want to stay here.”

“Honey.”

“You’re going to be talking about me,” she grumbles, but she slides off her chair and goes over to Bucky’s side and hugs him.

“Just for a few minutes,” Bucky promises. “Go on.”

Everyone is quiet until Natasha leaves the room. Once the door clicks closed, Bucky looks at Viktor sort of like he wants to dump Viktor’s body in the river.

Viktor appears not to notice the aggression, although Yuuri is getting more and more nervous. “Has she ever been sick?” Viktor asks with extreme Russian casualness.

Bucky’s gripping the arm of his chair so hard with his metal hand that there’s a quiet cracking sound. “The normal childhood stuff,” he grinds out. “She caught whooping cough when she was an infant, in the group home before I adopted her.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, his brow furrowing as his hair falls over his eye. “”That is bad, yes?”

“Yeah.” Bucky makes himself let go of the chair arm before he has to pay Stark for the ruined furniture. “She nearly died. The doctors were surprised that she survived, but she did. She’s got asthma and sometimes she has breathing problems, but other than that she’s healthy.” Bucky fixes Viktor with the same glare that Natasha had used minutes earlier. “What about you? Any sickness in the family we need to know about?”

Viktor’s still for a moment, utterly still, then his small, press-ready smile is back. Yuuri inches his chair closer to Viktor’s so he can press his knee against his husband’s. “No. My father’s father drank himself to death before I was born, but he grew up under Stalin so that is no surprise.”

“What about your mother?” Steve asks. “You said she was dead?”

Viktor’s expression doesn’t change. “She was murdered,” he says evenly. “Drowned, if you must know. And before you ask, it was not by my father.” Viktor brushes an imaginary speck of dust off his suit sleeve.

“We didn’t ask,” Bucky puts in.

“Ah, but many do.” He looks at Yuuri, and Yuuri can see the tension in Viktor’s posture. “We should go.”

Yuuri’s on his feet in a moment. “Where can we send the poster for Natasha?” he asks.

Everyone else rises. “You can send it here,” Steve says. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

And this is the point where Bucky just snaps. “You can’t take her away,” he blurts out. “She’s my entire life.”

Viktor, who for once in his life doesn’t know what to say, manages to get out, “I will have my lawyer contact you,” and he moves towards the door, Yuuri in tow. Yuuri looks back to see Steve holding Bucky’s hand, but then they’re out the door.

In the lobby, Natasha is sitting with the Stark Foundation’s two-person marketing team, grumpily hole-punching papers. She jumps up when Viktor and Yuuri appear. “Are you going?” she asks suspiciously.

“We are.” Viktor walks over to her, pretending to ignore the very obvious security detail stationed by the front door. “It was very nice to meet you today, Natasha Barnes.”

Natasha looks between Viktor and Yuuri. “You too, I guess.” She scuffs her shoe on the carpet. “Are you still going to get Mila to send me a poster?”

“We are,” Viktor confirms. “Now, run along back inside, your father will want to see you.”

Natasha leaves at a run, and Viktor walks out the door without a backwards glance.

It isn’t until they’re in the cab that Yuuri asks, “What are you going to do?”

Viktor is looking out the cab window again. “I told myself that I wanted to see she was not going to grow up like me.”

Yuuri, who by this time knows what terrible things Viktor’s grandmother did to him, puts his hand over Viktor’s.

“And she is not,” Viktor went on. “She is too happy, too confident, to be like me.” He squeezes Yuuri’s hand. “And then I thought, what would happen if I took her to live with me?”

“Viktor—“

“She would hate me,” Viktor says over Yuuri. “She would hate me just as much as I hated my father for ripping apart my life.”

“Viktor.”

Viktor finally looks at Yuuri. “I cannot do it,” he says. “I cannot make decisions for someone else’s life, not like that.”

“Her dads seem nice,” Yuuri ventures.

Viktor nods. “She is happy, and she is smart, and she is growing.” He makes a face. “And in spite of my mother’s influence, she seems… normal.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri pats Viktor’s hand. “She looks a lot like you.”

Viktor sighs. “She is the picture of my mother, only...” He says something in Russian that Yuuri doesn’t quite catch. “How do you say, more blood in her?”

“Fire?” Yuuri understands, though – Viktor’s mother, although ethereally beautiful, is more like a ghost than a real being, with her silver-blonde hair and milk-white skin. Even Viktor himself looks as if he’s never seen the sun. But the little girl they had just seen, she was full of energy and life and colour. “I saw it too.”

“Which is good.” Viktor leans sideways, resting against Yuuri’s side. “That something so good can come from such tragedy.”

Yuuri rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “You’re here,” Yuuri says quietly. “You’re good.”

Viktor exhales. “It makes me happy that you think so.” After a minute, he leans forward and asks the driver to take them to his lawyer’s office.

Anyway. The Barnes-Rogers family spend a nervous night then the next day Bucky packs the cranky and sleep-deprived kids off to school, kicks Steve out of the house to go to work, goes for a five-mile jog with Lucky, and gets back to a voicemail from Jennifer that says Nikiforov’s lawyer is going to be at her office at eleven and Bucky better motor his ass down there. He shows up armless, hair still wet from the shower, to find that the lawyer has the official documentation from Viktor Nikiforov terminating his parental rights.

“But,” the lawyer adds while Bucky’s trying to breathe through his heart attack, “My client would like to maintain contact with the girl. Birthday cards, maybe an in-person visit while he’s in the country.”

“Only at my client’s approval,” Jennifer says smoothly.

“Of course.” The other lawyer stands. “Mr. Barnes does retain full custody and all parental rights.” He taps the paperwork on the table. “I’ll leave you to file this with the courts, Ms. Walters.”

After Bucky all but hugs Jennifer, he drives to Natasha’s school and pulls her out of class. She shows up in the headmistress’s office completely terrified, but one look at her dad and she’s hugging him.

“Steve can adopt you now, sweet pea,” Bucky whispers.

“We’re going to be a real family,” Natasha cheers.

“We’re already a real family,” Bucky corrects her, so goddamned relieved that he can’t stand up. “We’re always a family.

Then he pulls Clint out of class and Clint cheers too, and he packs the kids in the jeep to drive to Manhattan to surprise Steve with the news and everyone who’s around (Tony, Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey and Carol who are in town on business) have a spontaneous ice cream party to celebrate.

As for Viktor and Yuuri, it takes Viktor a while to be able to verbalize his feelings, and while they’re on the way to Milan for that year’s World Figure Skating Championships Viktor is finally able to express that while he would always wonder what would have happened had things been different and he had gotten Natasha as a baby after her mother walked out, he thinks things are for the best they way they are now.

Yuuri is 40% sure that Viktor is talking out his ass, but at least Viktor knows he’s there for him if they need to work through things.

So most of it’s a happy ending, some of it is wistful, and then there’s the comedic effect we get when Viktor asks Mila to sign a poster, in English, to ‘Natasha’:

“Sure,” Mila says, uncapping the sharpie Viktor thrust at her. “Who is this Natasha? One of your fans?”

“My daughter,” Viktor says proudly, and Mila accidentally punches a hole through the poster with the pen, while a passing Yurio walks into the wall.

PS they all keep in touch and Viktor sends tickets to Skate America in the fall of 2018 and Natasha gets to meet all the skaters, and take a selfie with Mila Babicheva, and it’s the best few days of her little life, and as Natasha gets older, she builds a relationship with her biological father.

And they all live happily ever after.

[virginiamurrayblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home)

(Photos: Splash, iStock)

I grew up (and currently live) in Cambridge, Ont. As a child it was fine, as a teenager it was boring, and for a few unfortunate years in my early-to-mid twenties, it was the bane of my temperamental existence. It is surburban, it is quaint, it is strip malls, it is history. And while I’m allowed to make fun of it whenever I want, if I hear any of you talking shit about my hometown, I will fight you in the same parking lot the boys I loved once skateboarded in.

Which is why I’m the only person qualified to map it out for our newest additions, Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. Having just purchased property outside the city limits—and with Justin reportedly wanting to make Canada his homebase—my precious son and his soon-to-be bride are in need of a guide to Cambridge that’s honest, accurate and will ensure that we run into each other frequently. And while I guess the rest of you can follow it too, I also couldn’t care less. This is for J-Biebs, Ms. Baldwin, and a future in which I hang out with them regularly. See you soon, precious fam.

Langdon Hall

Finished in 1902, the restaurant/spa/hotel was formerly a country home but is currently the closest I will ever get to living in Downton Abbey. Naturally, the food is unparalleled, the high tea is tremendous, and the photo ops are spectacular. But most importantly, Drake shot album art for Views on the driveway a few years ago, which brings us all nearer to the dream of Aubrey, Justin and myself bonding over scones and clotted cream. That, or seeing ghosts of the former owners.

I’ll take either.

Downtown Galt

A fact I like to scream into the faces of strangers is that The Handmaid’s Tale films in a part of Cambridge called downtown Galt. (Specifically, the scenes in which Offred and friends walk by the river.) This typically earns a half-hearted, “Wow, really?” while I nod smugly, as if I scouted the location myself. I did not. But should Justin and Hailey want to look at old buildings and churches that back onto the Grand River, this is where they can do so. Provided they invite me.

LA Frank’s

And since we’re in Galt, we might as well take advantage of LA Frank’s—the seasonal hotdog/hamburger/ice cream stand that I personally can’t order anything from (I have the digestive system of a small infant), but will happily stand awkwardly near as my friends consume food like normal adults. A right of passage. A fast way to make me feel sad and jealous.

iBowl.ca

Years ago, Cambridge was a city brimming with bowling alleys. (There were three. Maybe four.) Today—and until the construction of the bowling alley/arcade/restaurant in the mall is finished—there is one. And while I don’t know the origin story of this Galt-based mecca’s name, I do know that when I was 21, I wasn’t paying attention on my way out and fell down the stairs, spraining my wrist as my friends stifled laughter. I also learned that black lighting makes one’s tears glow. Biebs and Baldwin deserve to see this for themselves.

The Cambridge Centre

Behold! The mall I worked at from 2005-2009. Is it worth going without being able to see me fold jeans at American Eagle? No. But maybe Hailey likes Marshall’s. Perhaps Baby Biebs adores Bootlegger. And if all else fails, there’s still a movie theatre inside. So let’s just meet up after the 7:10 screening of Little Italy, and take it from there.

Value Village

Thrifting in Cambridge (and the Waterloo region) is better than in any other region and in any other city. Last week, I paid $49 for seven pieces that will make me look exactly like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. (Exactly. I will look exactly like her.) And why wouldn’t two kids saving for a big wedding want to wade into the waters of previously owned and loved clothing? Why wouldn’t Justin want to pick up a few new Hawaiian shirts? Why wouldn’t he want me to push him around in a cart like the caring mother I am? Why wouldn’t he look up at me from between ’90s-era sweaters and tell me how proud he was to be my son?

Rising Dough Bakery

Of course, after burning through calories trying on pleated pants, we could and would descend on the Scottish bakery in Preston (another area of Cambridge—please don’t worry about it, unless you grew up here, you won’t care and it doesn’t matter) where the pasties and pastries are equal parts prevalent and delicious. Once, I bought a week’s worth of cookies and and ate them in about two days. I felt deathly ill, but it was worth it. And guess what: I’ll probably do it again.

Fashion History Museum

And then there’s Hespeler. (Okay, fine. Here’s the history: Cambridge consists of three parts that used to be former towns. They amalgamated in the 1970s, but some of us grew up in families who do not acknowledge said amalgamation. Thus, Hespeler, to me and my family, is superior in every way.) Located in the old post office, the Fashion History Museum is, in a word, the fucking bomb. The two owners have a collection that spans centuries, continents and historical narratives, and the exhibits are well thought-out and interesting. It’s also not-for-profit, so only good things can come from visiting. Which is why Hailey and Justin should go. Also, because I’m specifically ordering them too.

Ernie’s Roadhouse

This is the restaurant I grew up eating chicken wings at. It’s also older than time. I’d be ashamed to find out Biebs and Balds didn’t go. I’d also be ashamed if they didn’t order me chicken wings.

The Hespeler Arena

No, not the actual arena. (I mean, sure: hockey and figure skating happens there, but also welcome to southern Ontario where there are no less than 46 arenas per person per city.) Instead, let’s focus on the parking lot. And, since we’re talking about paved spaces ideal for parking, standing, and talking shit, let us also branch out to include the McDonald’s and Food Basics plaza parking lot, where much of my young life was shaped by standing, by sitting, by drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade, by smoking Players cigarettes, by watching skateboarders.

Frankly, you will never “experience” Cambridge until you experience it in a parking lot. Which morphs this guide into a straight-up challenge: when Justin and Hailey find their own lot to loiter in, Cambridge will finally be home.

Anne T. Donahue is a writer, podcaster and person on the internet. Her memoir, Nobody Cares, comes out on September 18.

More from Anne T. Donahue: What Buck-a-Beer Feels Like to an Alcoholic How I Get Shit Done Working from Home How to Use Professional Jealousy to Figure Out What You *Really* Want #HowIMadeIt: How Anne T. Donahue Became a Writer Even Unf-ckwithable Women Need Help Sometimes

  The post A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) appeared first on Flare.

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) published first on https://wholesalescarvescity.tumblr.com/

[virginiamurrayblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home)

(Photos: Splash, iStock)

I grew up (and currently live) in Cambridge, Ont. As a child it was fine, as a teenager it was boring, and for a few unfortunate years in my early-to-mid twenties, it was the bane of my temperamental existence. It is surburban, it is quaint, it is strip malls, it is history. And while I’m allowed to make fun of it whenever I want, if I hear any of you talking shit about my hometown, I will fight you in the same parking lot the boys I loved once skateboarded in.

Which is why I’m the only person qualified to map it out for our newest additions, Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. Having just purchased property outside the city limits—and with Justin reportedly wanting to make Canada his homebase—my precious son and his soon-to-be bride are in need of a guide to Cambridge that’s honest, accurate and will ensure that we run into each other frequently. And while I guess the rest of you can follow it too, I also couldn’t care less. This is for J-Biebs, Ms. Baldwin, and a future in which I hang out with them regularly. See you soon, precious fam.

Langdon Hall

Finished in 1902, the restaurant/spa/hotel was formerly a country home but is currently the closest I will ever get to living in Downton Abbey. Naturally, the food is unparalleled, the high tea is tremendous, and the photo ops are spectacular. But most importantly, Drake shot album art for Views on the driveway a few years ago, which brings us all nearer to the dream of Aubrey, Justin and myself bonding over scones and clotted cream. That, or seeing ghosts of the former owners.

I’ll take either.

Downtown Galt

A fact I like to scream into the faces of strangers is that The Handmaid’s Tale films in a part of Cambridge called downtown Galt. (Specifically, the scenes in which Offred and friends walk by the river.) This typically earns a half-hearted, “Wow, really?” while I nod smugly, as if I scouted the location myself. I did not. But should Justin and Hailey want to look at old buildings and churches that back onto the Grand River, this is where they can do so. Provided they invite me.

LA Frank’s

And since we’re in Galt, we might as well take advantage of LA Frank’s—the seasonal hotdog/hamburger/ice cream stand that I personally can’t order anything from (I have the digestive system of a small infant), but will happily stand awkwardly near as my friends consume food like normal adults. A right of passage. A fast way to make me feel sad and jealous.

iBowl.ca

Years ago, Cambridge was a city brimming with bowling alleys. (There were three. Maybe four.) Today—and until the construction of the bowling alley/arcade/restaurant in the mall is finished—there is one. And while I don’t know the origin story of this Galt-based mecca’s name, I do know that when I was 21, I wasn’t paying attention on my way out and fell down the stairs, spraining my wrist as my friends stifled laughter. I also learned that black lighting makes one’s tears glow. Biebs and Baldwin deserve to see this for themselves.

The Cambridge Centre

Behold! The mall I worked at from 2005-2009. Is it worth going without being able to see me fold jeans at American Eagle? No. But maybe Hailey likes Marshall’s. Perhaps Baby Biebs adores Bootlegger. And if all else fails, there’s still a movie theatre inside. So let’s just meet up after the 7:10 screening of Little Italy, and take it from there.

Value Village

Thrifting in Cambridge (and the Waterloo region) is better than in any other region and in any other city. Last week, I paid $49 for seven pieces that will make me look exactly like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. (Exactly. I will look exactly like her.) And why wouldn’t two kids saving for a big wedding want to wade into the waters of previously owned and loved clothing? Why wouldn’t Justin want to pick up a few new Hawaiian shirts? Why wouldn’t he want me to push him around in a cart like the caring mother I am? Why wouldn’t he look up at me from between ’90s-era sweaters and tell me how proud he was to be my son?

Rising Dough Bakery

Of course, after burning through calories trying on pleated pants, we could and would descend on the Scottish bakery in Preston (another area of Cambridge—please don’t worry about it, unless you grew up here, you won’t care and it doesn’t matter) where the pasties and pastries are equal parts prevalent and delicious. Once, I bought a week’s worth of cookies and and ate them in about two days. I felt deathly ill, but it was worth it. And guess what: I’ll probably do it again.

Fashion History Museum

And then there’s Hespeler. (Okay, fine. Here’s the history: Cambridge consists of three parts that used to be former towns. They amalgamated in the 1970s, but some of us grew up in families who do not acknowledge said amalgamation. Thus, Hespeler, to me and my family, is superior in every way.) Located in the old post office, the Fashion History Museum is, in a word, the fucking bomb. The two owners have a collection that spans centuries, continents and historical narratives, and the exhibits are well thought-out and interesting. It’s also not-for-profit, so only good things can come from visiting. Which is why Hailey and Justin should go. Also, because I’m specifically ordering them too.

Ernie’s Roadhouse

This is the restaurant I grew up eating chicken wings at. It’s also older than time. I’d be ashamed to find out Biebs and Balds didn’t go. I’d also be ashamed if they didn’t order me chicken wings.

The Hespeler Arena

No, not the actual arena. (I mean, sure: hockey and figure skating happens there, but also welcome to southern Ontario where there are no less than 46 arenas per person per city.) Instead, let’s focus on the parking lot. And, since we’re talking about paved spaces ideal for parking, standing, and talking shit, let us also branch out to include the McDonald’s and Food Basics plaza parking lot, where much of my young life was shaped by standing, by sitting, by drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade, by smoking Players cigarettes, by watching skateboarders.

Frankly, you will never “experience” Cambridge until you experience it in a parking lot. Which morphs this guide into a straight-up challenge: when Justin and Hailey find their own lot to loiter in, Cambridge will finally be home.

Anne T. Donahue is a writer, podcaster and person on the internet. Her memoir, Nobody Cares, comes out on September 18.

More from Anne T. Donahue: What Buck-a-Beer Feels Like to an Alcoholic How I Get Shit Done Working from Home How to Use Professional Jealousy to Figure Out What You *Really* Want #HowIMadeIt: How Anne T. Donahue Became a Writer Even Unf-ckwithable Women Need Help Sometimes

  The post A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) appeared first on Flare.

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) published first on https://wholesalescarvescity.tumblr.com/

[virginiamurrayblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home)

(Photos: Splash, iStock)

I grew up (and currently live) in Cambridge, Ont. As a child it was fine, as a teenager it was boring, and for a few unfortunate years in my early-to-mid twenties, it was the bane of my temperamental existence. It is surburban, it is quaint, it is strip malls, it is history. And while I’m allowed to make fun of it whenever I want, if I hear any of you talking shit about my hometown, I will fight you in the same parking lot the boys I loved once skateboarded in.

Which is why I’m the only person qualified to map it out for our newest additions, Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. Having just purchased property outside the city limits—and with Justin reportedly wanting to make Canada his homebase—my precious son and his soon-to-be bride are in need of a guide to Cambridge that’s honest, accurate and will ensure that we run into each other frequently. And while I guess the rest of you can follow it too, I also couldn’t care less. This is for J-Biebs, Ms. Baldwin, and a future in which I hang out with them regularly. See you soon, precious fam.

Langdon Hall

Finished in 1902, the restaurant/spa/hotel was formerly a country home but is currently the closest I will ever get to living in Downton Abbey. Naturally, the food is unparalleled, the high tea is tremendous, and the photo ops are spectacular. But most importantly, Drake shot album art for Views on the driveway a few years ago, which brings us all nearer to the dream of Aubrey, Justin and myself bonding over scones and clotted cream. That, or seeing ghosts of the former owners.

I’ll take either.

Downtown Galt

A fact I like to scream into the faces of strangers is that The Handmaid’s Tale films in a part of Cambridge called downtown Galt. (Specifically, the scenes in which Offred and friends walk by the river.) This typically earns a half-hearted, “Wow, really?” while I nod smugly, as if I scouted the location myself. I did not. But should Justin and Hailey want to look at old buildings and churches that back onto the Grand River, this is where they can do so. Provided they invite me.

LA Frank’s

And since we’re in Galt, we might as well take advantage of LA Frank’s—the seasonal hotdog/hamburger/ice cream stand that I personally can’t order anything from (I have the digestive system of a small infant), but will happily stand awkwardly near as my friends consume food like normal adults. A right of passage. A fast way to make me feel sad and jealous.

iBowl.ca

Years ago, Cambridge was a city brimming with bowling alleys. (There were three. Maybe four.) Today—and until the construction of the bowling alley/arcade/restaurant in the mall is finished—there is one. And while I don’t know the origin story of this Galt-based mecca’s name, I do know that when I was 21, I wasn’t paying attention on my way out and fell down the stairs, spraining my wrist as my friends stifled laughter. I also learned that black lighting makes one’s tears glow. Biebs and Baldwin deserve to see this for themselves.

The Cambridge Centre

Behold! The mall I worked at from 2005-2009. Is it worth going without being able to see me fold jeans at American Eagle? No. But maybe Hailey likes Marshall’s. Perhaps Baby Biebs adores Bootlegger. And if all else fails, there’s still a movie theatre inside. So let’s just meet up after the 7:10 screening of Little Italy, and take it from there.

Value Village

Thrifting in Cambridge (and the Waterloo region) is better than in any other region and in any other city. Last week, I paid $49 for seven pieces that will make me look exactly like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. (Exactly. I will look exactly like her.) And why wouldn’t two kids saving for a big wedding want to wade into the waters of previously owned and loved clothing? Why wouldn’t Justin want to pick up a few new Hawaiian shirts? Why wouldn’t he want me to push him around in a cart like the caring mother I am? Why wouldn’t he look up at me from between ’90s-era sweaters and tell me how proud he was to be my son?

Rising Dough Bakery

Of course, after burning through calories trying on pleated pants, we could and would descend on the Scottish bakery in Preston (another area of Cambridge—please don’t worry about it, unless you grew up here, you won’t care and it doesn’t matter) where the pasties and pastries are equal parts prevalent and delicious. Once, I bought a week’s worth of cookies and and ate them in about two days. I felt deathly ill, but it was worth it. And guess what: I’ll probably do it again.

Fashion History Museum

And then there’s Hespeler. (Okay, fine. Here’s the history: Cambridge consists of three parts that used to be former towns. They amalgamated in the 1970s, but some of us grew up in families who do not acknowledge said amalgamation. Thus, Hespeler, to me and my family, is superior in every way.) Located in the old post office, the Fashion History Museum is, in a word, the fucking bomb. The two owners have a collection that spans centuries, continents and historical narratives, and the exhibits are well thought-out and interesting. It’s also not-for-profit, so only good things can come from visiting. Which is why Hailey and Justin should go. Also, because I’m specifically ordering them too.

Ernie’s Roadhouse

This is the restaurant I grew up eating chicken wings at. It’s also older than time. I’d be ashamed to find out Biebs and Balds didn’t go. I’d also be ashamed if they didn’t order me chicken wings.

The Hespeler Arena

No, not the actual arena. (I mean, sure: hockey and figure skating happens there, but also welcome to southern Ontario where there are no less than 46 arenas per person per city.) Instead, let’s focus on the parking lot. And, since we’re talking about paved spaces ideal for parking, standing, and talking shit, let us also branch out to include the McDonald’s and Food Basics plaza parking lot, where much of my young life was shaped by standing, by sitting, by drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade, by smoking Players cigarettes, by watching skateboarders.

Frankly, you will never “experience” Cambridge until you experience it in a parking lot. Which morphs this guide into a straight-up challenge: when Justin and Hailey find their own lot to loiter in, Cambridge will finally be home.

Anne T. Donahue is a writer, podcaster and person on the internet. Her memoir, Nobody Cares, comes out on September 18.

More from Anne T. Donahue: What Buck-a-Beer Feels Like to an Alcoholic How I Get Shit Done Working from Home How to Use Professional Jealousy to Figure Out What You *Really* Want #HowIMadeIt: How Anne T. Donahue Became a Writer Even Unf-ckwithable Women Need Help Sometimes

  The post A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) appeared first on Flare.

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) published first on https://wholesalescarvescity.tumblr.com/

[virginiamurrayblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home)

(Photos: Splash, iStock)

I grew up (and currently live) in Cambridge, Ont. As a child it was fine, as a teenager it was boring, and for a few unfortunate years in my early-to-mid twenties, it was the bane of my temperamental existence. It is surburban, it is quaint, it is strip malls, it is history. And while I’m allowed to make fun of it whenever I want, if I hear any of you talking shit about my hometown, I will fight you in the same parking lot the boys I loved once skateboarded in.

Which is why I’m the only person qualified to map it out for our newest additions, Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. Having just purchased property outside the city limits—and with Justin reportedly wanting to make Canada his homebase—my precious son and his soon-to-be bride are in need of a guide to Cambridge that’s honest, accurate and will ensure that we run into each other frequently. And while I guess the rest of you can follow it too, I also couldn’t care less. This is for J-Biebs, Ms. Baldwin, and a future in which I hang out with them regularly. See you soon, precious fam.

Langdon Hall

Finished in 1902, the restaurant/spa/hotel was formerly a country home but is currently the closest I will ever get to living in Downton Abbey. Naturally, the food is unparalleled, the high tea is tremendous, and the photo ops are spectacular. But most importantly, Drake shot album art for Views on the driveway a few years ago, which brings us all nearer to the dream of Aubrey, Justin and myself bonding over scones and clotted cream. That, or seeing ghosts of the former owners.

I’ll take either.

Downtown Galt

A fact I like to scream into the faces of strangers is that The Handmaid’s Tale films in a part of Cambridge called downtown Galt. (Specifically, the scenes in which Offred and friends walk by the river.) This typically earns a half-hearted, “Wow, really?” while I nod smugly, as if I scouted the location myself. I did not. But should Justin and Hailey want to look at old buildings and churches that back onto the Grand River, this is where they can do so. Provided they invite me.

LA Frank’s

And since we’re in Galt, we might as well take advantage of LA Frank’s—the seasonal hotdog/hamburger/ice cream stand that I personally can’t order anything from (I have the digestive system of a small infant), but will happily stand awkwardly near as my friends consume food like normal adults. A right of passage. A fast way to make me feel sad and jealous.

iBowl.ca

Years ago, Cambridge was a city brimming with bowling alleys. (There were three. Maybe four.) Today—and until the construction of the bowling alley/arcade/restaurant in the mall is finished—there is one. And while I don’t know the origin story of this Galt-based mecca’s name, I do know that when I was 21, I wasn’t paying attention on my way out and fell down the stairs, spraining my wrist as my friends stifled laughter. I also learned that black lighting makes one’s tears glow. Biebs and Baldwin deserve to see this for themselves.

The Cambridge Centre

Behold! The mall I worked at from 2005-2009. Is it worth going without being able to see me fold jeans at American Eagle? No. But maybe Hailey likes Marshall’s. Perhaps Baby Biebs adores Bootlegger. And if all else fails, there’s still a movie theatre inside. So let’s just meet up after the 7:10 screening of Little Italy, and take it from there.

Value Village

Thrifting in Cambridge (and the Waterloo region) is better than in any other region and in any other city. Last week, I paid $49 for seven pieces that will make me look exactly like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. (Exactly. I will look exactly like her.) And why wouldn’t two kids saving for a big wedding want to wade into the waters of previously owned and loved clothing? Why wouldn’t Justin want to pick up a few new Hawaiian shirts? Why wouldn’t he want me to push him around in a cart like the caring mother I am? Why wouldn’t he look up at me from between ’90s-era sweaters and tell me how proud he was to be my son?

Rising Dough Bakery

Of course, after burning through calories trying on pleated pants, we could and would descend on the Scottish bakery in Preston (another area of Cambridge—please don’t worry about it, unless you grew up here, you won’t care and it doesn’t matter) where the pasties and pastries are equal parts prevalent and delicious. Once, I bought a week’s worth of cookies and and ate them in about two days. I felt deathly ill, but it was worth it. And guess what: I’ll probably do it again.

Fashion History Museum

And then there’s Hespeler. (Okay, fine. Here’s the history: Cambridge consists of three parts that used to be former towns. They amalgamated in the 1970s, but some of us grew up in families who do not acknowledge said amalgamation. Thus, Hespeler, to me and my family, is superior in every way.) Located in the old post office, the Fashion History Museum is, in a word, the fucking bomb. The two owners have a collection that spans centuries, continents and historical narratives, and the exhibits are well thought-out and interesting. It’s also not-for-profit, so only good things can come from visiting. Which is why Hailey and Justin should go. Also, because I’m specifically ordering them too.

Ernie’s Roadhouse

This is the restaurant I grew up eating chicken wings at. It’s also older than time. I’d be ashamed to find out Biebs and Balds didn’t go. I’d also be ashamed if they didn’t order me chicken wings.

The Hespeler Arena

No, not the actual arena. (I mean, sure: hockey and figure skating happens there, but also welcome to southern Ontario where there are no less than 46 arenas per person per city.) Instead, let’s focus on the parking lot. And, since we’re talking about paved spaces ideal for parking, standing, and talking shit, let us also branch out to include the McDonald’s and Food Basics plaza parking lot, where much of my young life was shaped by standing, by sitting, by drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade, by smoking Players cigarettes, by watching skateboarders.

Frankly, you will never “experience” Cambridge until you experience it in a parking lot. Which morphs this guide into a straight-up challenge: when Justin and Hailey find their own lot to loiter in, Cambridge will finally be home.

Anne T. Donahue is a writer, podcaster and person on the internet. Her memoir, Nobody Cares, comes out on September 18.

More from Anne T. Donahue: What Buck-a-Beer Feels Like to an Alcoholic How I Get Shit Done Working from Home How to Use Professional Jealousy to Figure Out What You *Really* Want #HowIMadeIt: How Anne T. Donahue Became a Writer Even Unf-ckwithable Women Need Help Sometimes

  The post A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) appeared first on Flare.

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) published first on https://wholesalescarvescity.tumblr.com/

[virginiamurrayblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home)

(Photos: Splash, iStock)

I grew up (and currently live) in Cambridge, Ont. As a child it was fine, as a teenager it was boring, and for a few unfortunate years in my early-to-mid twenties, it was the bane of my temperamental existence. It is surburban, it is quaint, it is strip malls, it is history. And while I’m allowed to make fun of it whenever I want, if I hear any of you talking shit about my hometown, I will fight you in the same parking lot the boys I loved once skateboarded in.

Which is why I’m the only person qualified to map it out for our newest additions, Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. Having just purchased property outside the city limits—and with Justin reportedly wanting to make Canada his homebase—my precious son and his soon-to-be bride are in need of a guide to Cambridge that’s honest, accurate and will ensure that we run into each other frequently. And while I guess the rest of you can follow it too, I also couldn’t care less. This is for J-Biebs, Ms. Baldwin, and a future in which I hang out with them regularly. See you soon, precious fam.

Langdon Hall

Finished in 1902, the restaurant/spa/hotel was formerly a country home but is currently the closest I will ever get to living in Downton Abbey. Naturally, the food is unparalleled, the high tea is tremendous, and the photo ops are spectacular. But most importantly, Drake shot album art for Views on the driveway a few years ago, which brings us all nearer to the dream of Aubrey, Justin and myself bonding over scones and clotted cream. That, or seeing ghosts of the former owners.

I’ll take either.

Downtown Galt

A fact I like to scream into the faces of strangers is that The Handmaid’s Tale films in a part of Cambridge called downtown Galt. (Specifically, the scenes in which Offred and friends walk by the river.) This typically earns a half-hearted, “Wow, really?” while I nod smugly, as if I scouted the location myself. I did not. But should Justin and Hailey want to look at old buildings and churches that back onto the Grand River, this is where they can do so. Provided they invite me.

LA Frank’s

And since we’re in Galt, we might as well take advantage of LA Frank’s—the seasonal hotdog/hamburger/ice cream stand that I personally can’t order anything from (I have the digestive system of a small infant), but will happily stand awkwardly near as my friends consume food like normal adults. A right of passage. A fast way to make me feel sad and jealous.

iBowl.ca

Years ago, Cambridge was a city brimming with bowling alleys. (There were three. Maybe four.) Today—and until the construction of the bowling alley/arcade/restaurant in the mall is finished—there is one. And while I don’t know the origin story of this Galt-based mecca’s name, I do know that when I was 21, I wasn’t paying attention on my way out and fell down the stairs, spraining my wrist as my friends stifled laughter. I also learned that black lighting makes one’s tears glow. Biebs and Baldwin deserve to see this for themselves.

The Cambridge Centre

Behold! The mall I worked at from 2005-2009. Is it worth going without being able to see me fold jeans at American Eagle? No. But maybe Hailey likes Marshall’s. Perhaps Baby Biebs adores Bootlegger. And if all else fails, there’s still a movie theatre inside. So let’s just meet up after the 7:10 screening of Little Italy, and take it from there.

Value Village

Thrifting in Cambridge (and the Waterloo region) is better than in any other region and in any other city. Last week, I paid $49 for seven pieces that will make me look exactly like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. (Exactly. I will look exactly like her.) And why wouldn’t two kids saving for a big wedding want to wade into the waters of previously owned and loved clothing? Why wouldn’t Justin want to pick up a few new Hawaiian shirts? Why wouldn’t he want me to push him around in a cart like the caring mother I am? Why wouldn’t he look up at me from between ’90s-era sweaters and tell me how proud he was to be my son?

Rising Dough Bakery

Of course, after burning through calories trying on pleated pants, we could and would descend on the Scottish bakery in Preston (another area of Cambridge—please don’t worry about it, unless you grew up here, you won’t care and it doesn’t matter) where the pasties and pastries are equal parts prevalent and delicious. Once, I bought a week’s worth of cookies and and ate them in about two days. I felt deathly ill, but it was worth it. And guess what: I’ll probably do it again.

Fashion History Museum

And then there’s Hespeler. (Okay, fine. Here’s the history: Cambridge consists of three parts that used to be former towns. They amalgamated in the 1970s, but some of us grew up in families who do not acknowledge said amalgamation. Thus, Hespeler, to me and my family, is superior in every way.) Located in the old post office, the Fashion History Museum is, in a word, the fucking bomb. The two owners have a collection that spans centuries, continents and historical narratives, and the exhibits are well thought-out and interesting. It’s also not-for-profit, so only good things can come from visiting. Which is why Hailey and Justin should go. Also, because I’m specifically ordering them too.

Ernie’s Roadhouse

This is the restaurant I grew up eating chicken wings at. It’s also older than time. I’d be ashamed to find out Biebs and Balds didn’t go. I’d also be ashamed if they didn’t order me chicken wings.

The Hespeler Arena

No, not the actual arena. (I mean, sure: hockey and figure skating happens there, but also welcome to southern Ontario where there are no less than 46 arenas per person per city.) Instead, let’s focus on the parking lot. And, since we’re talking about paved spaces ideal for parking, standing, and talking shit, let us also branch out to include the McDonald’s and Food Basics plaza parking lot, where much of my young life was shaped by standing, by sitting, by drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade, by smoking Players cigarettes, by watching skateboarders.

Frankly, you will never “experience” Cambridge until you experience it in a parking lot. Which morphs this guide into a straight-up challenge: when Justin and Hailey find their own lot to loiter in, Cambridge will finally be home.

Anne T. Donahue is a writer, podcaster and person on the internet. Her memoir, Nobody Cares, comes out on September 18.

More from Anne T. Donahue: What Buck-a-Beer Feels Like to an Alcoholic How I Get Shit Done Working from Home How to Use Professional Jealousy to Figure Out What You *Really* Want #HowIMadeIt: How Anne T. Donahue Became a Writer Even Unf-ckwithable Women Need Help Sometimes

  The post A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) appeared first on Flare.

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home) published first on https://wholesalescarvescity.tumblr.com/

[virginiamurrayblog]

A Comprehensive Guide to Cambridge, Ont. (a.k.a. Justin & Hailey’s New Home)

(Photos: Splash, iStock)

I grew up (and currently live) in Cambridge, Ont. As a child it was fine, as a teenager it was boring, and for a few unfortunate years in my early-to-mid twenties, it was the bane of my temperamental existence. It is surburban, it is quaint, it is strip malls, it is history. And while I’m allowed to make fun of it whenever I want, if I hear any of you talking shit about my hometown, I will fight you in the same parking lot the boys I loved once skateboarded in.

Which is why I’m the only person qualified to map it out for our newest additions, Justin Bieber and Hailey Baldwin. Having just purchased property outside the city limits—and with Justin reportedly wanting to make Canada his homebase—my precious son and his soon-to-be bride are in need of a guide to Cambridge that’s honest, accurate and will ensure that we run into each other frequently. And while I guess the rest of you can follow it too, I also couldn’t care less. This is for J-Biebs, Ms. Baldwin, and a future in which I hang out with them regularly. See you soon, precious fam.

Langdon Hall

Finished in 1902, the restaurant/spa/hotel was formerly a country home but is currently the closest I will ever get to living in Downton Abbey. Naturally, the food is unparalleled, the high tea is tremendous, and the photo ops are spectacular. But most importantly, Drake shot album art for Views on the driveway a few years ago, which brings us all nearer to the dream of Aubrey, Justin and myself bonding over scones and clotted cream. That, or seeing ghosts of the former owners.

I’ll take either.

Downtown Galt

A fact I like to scream into the faces of strangers is that The Handmaid’s Tale films in a part of Cambridge called downtown Galt. (Specifically, the scenes in which Offred and friends walk by the river.) This typically earns a half-hearted, “Wow, really?” while I nod smugly, as if I scouted the location myself. I did not. But should Justin and Hailey want to look at old buildings and churches that back onto the Grand River, this is where they can do so. Provided they invite me.

LA Frank’s

And since we’re in Galt, we might as well take advantage of LA Frank’s—the seasonal hotdog/hamburger/ice cream stand that I personally can’t order anything from (I have the digestive system of a small infant), but will happily stand awkwardly near as my friends consume food like normal adults. A right of passage. A fast way to make me feel sad and jealous.

iBowl.ca

Years ago, Cambridge was a city brimming with bowling alleys. (There were three. Maybe four.) Today—and until the construction of the bowling alley/arcade/restaurant in the mall is finished—there is one. And while I don’t know the origin story of this Galt-based mecca’s name, I do know that when I was 21, I wasn’t paying attention on my way out and fell down the stairs, spraining my wrist as my friends stifled laughter. I also learned that black lighting makes one’s tears glow. Biebs and Baldwin deserve to see this for themselves.

The Cambridge Centre

Behold! The mall I worked at from 2005-2009. Is it worth going without being able to see me fold jeans at American Eagle? No. But maybe Hailey likes Marshall’s. Perhaps Baby Biebs adores Bootlegger. And if all else fails, there’s still a movie theatre inside. So let’s just meet up after the 7:10 screening of Little Italy, and take it from there.

Value Village

Thrifting in Cambridge (and the Waterloo region) is better than in any other region and in any other city. Last week, I paid $49 for seven pieces that will make me look exactly like Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. (Exactly. I will look exactly like her.) And why wouldn’t two kids saving for a big wedding want to wade into the waters of previously owned and loved clothing? Why wouldn’t Justin want to pick up a few new Hawaiian shirts? Why wouldn’t he want me to push him around in a cart like the caring mother I am? Why wouldn’t he look up at me from between ’90s-era sweaters and tell me how proud he was to be my son?

Rising Dough Bakery

Of course, after burning through calories trying on pleated pants, we could and would descend on the Scottish bakery in Preston (another area of Cambridge—please don’t worry about it, unless you grew up here, you won’t care and it doesn’t matter) where the pasties and pastries are equal parts prevalent and delicious. Once, I bought a week’s worth of cookies and and ate them in about two days. I felt deathly ill, but it was worth it. And guess what: I’ll probably do it again.

Fashion History Museum

And then there’s Hespeler. (Okay, fine. Here’s the history: Cambridge consists of three parts that used to be former towns. They amalgamated in the 1970s, but some of us grew up in families who do not acknowledge said amalgamation. Thus, Hespeler, to me and my family, is superior in every way.) Located in the old post office, the Fashion History Museum is, in a word, the fucking bomb. The two owners have a collection that spans centuries, continents and historical narratives, and the exhibits are well thought-out and interesting. It’s also not-for-profit, so only good things can come from visiting. Which is why Hailey and Justin should go. Also, because I’m specifically ordering them too.

Ernie’s Roadhouse

This is the restaurant I grew up eating chicken wings at. It’s also older than time. I’d be ashamed to find out Biebs and Balds didn’t go. I’d also be ashamed if they didn’t order me chicken wings.

The Hespeler Arena

No, not the actual arena. (I mean, sure: hockey and figure skating happens there, but also welcome to southern Ontario where there are no less than 46 arenas per person per city.) Instead, let’s focus on the parking lot. And, since we’re talking about paved spaces ideal for parking, standing, and talking shit, let us also branch out to include the McDonald’s and Food Basics plaza parking lot, where much of my young life was shaped by standing, by sitting, by drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonade, by smoking Players cigarettes, by watching skateboarders.

Frankly, you will never “experience” Cambridge until you experience it in a parking lot. Which morphs this guide into a straight-up challenge: when Justin and Hailey find their own lot to loiter in, Cambridge will finally be home.

Anne T. Donahue is a writer, podcaster and person on the internet. Her memoir, Nobody Cares, comes out on September 18.

More from Anne T. Donahue: What Buck-a-Beer Feels Like to an Alcoholic How I Get Shit Done Working from Home How to Use Professional Jealousy to Figure Out What You *Really* Want #HowIMadeIt: How Anne T. Donahue Became a Writer Even Unf-ckwithable Women Need Help Sometimes

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