#I’ve been really into ear Mohawk looks lately so I think I want to put a spike in it

[beakerhoneydew]

Using my office job powers for evil (scheduling a piercing appointment on Labor Day cause I get it off)

[s1ater]

the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen

warning/s 🚫: swearing

slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮

part one, part two

hawk: miss me princess?

you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.

he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.

y/n: you flatter yourself too much

hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos

y/n: other than them being nightly, sure

hawk: i’m a busy man

you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”

y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh

you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.

he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs. 

hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to

y/n: that’s a lie

hawk: is it?

y/n: i’d love to see you

hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face

y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.

you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.

hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy

you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.

it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.

y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over

hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao

eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.

he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.

y/n: sorry bud

hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)

°•

it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.

you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.

your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home. 

“need a ride?”

you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you. 

eli.  

“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night. 

“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”

“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself. 

“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was. 

“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face. 

“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car. 

he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”

“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination. 

it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy. 

he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them. 

because he wanted to fuck you. 

“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made. 

“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew. 

and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on. 

“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?

it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do. 

but you really wondered. 

“uh- i, what?”

you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.” 

wow, really? 

he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent. 

fuck. 

he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”

no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad. 

you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”

but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about. 

“wow.”

“you wouldn't be the first.”

“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s. 

he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him. 

“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard. 

“anytime, princess.” 

masterlist

💒

join the taglist lil doggy

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[skellebonez]

Prompts 1, 9, 17, and 49. Huntsman Has been visiting Sandy for a few weeks now and Moe has made it clear he does not trust the spider. One day, while Sandy's busy Huntsman decides he's had enough of this cat and goes into a rant which then turns into him venting some stuff. Therapy cats are for more then just pets apparently. (Bonus points if it's from Moe's POV) - Pixel Anon

Apparently I am bad at figuring out how to write from a cat’s POV, but this was the PERFECT prompt for me to continue Second Chances Over Tea! This is where stuff really starts to... deviate.

Do not give me that look/How long have you been standing there?/I can’t do this even though everyone says I can./That cute act is all just a lie.

Where time had gone Huntsman had no idea. There was both no time and too much time. Syntax had everything he needed to rebuild and reprogram the spider bots and he’d been doing everything he could to try to replicate the venom with little to no success, much to the increased frustration of the Spider Queen.

She wasn't upset at him, not really. Huntsman knew she was just taking out her frustration at the situation on the poor scientist. Had it been in the weeks before Huntsman would have brushed it off and told him to deal with it.

But now... he felt bad for him. He could tell Syntax was trying his best. The human turned demon wasn’t quite as harsh and clinical as he had pin pointed him as, that much had become clear when he had noticed Huntsman’s odd behavior. His behavior since he has started sneaking out to visit Sandy. He never pushed, never pried, but did make a point to remind him to charge his communicator and to message him on the nights he was out.

Huntsman wasn’t stupid. He knew that Syntax knew he was lying. There was no need to go out and search for materials or do more recon now, the scientist knew that. But he never pushed, never yelled at him to stay and help (though that was probably because he knew that this stuff was not Huntsman’s line of specialty), never prodded about exactly where he went.

Though he had to know by now.

He’d pointed out the smell of motor oil and tea clinging to his clothes once, when they were alone. The cat fur and nip that has stuck to the edges of his undershirt another day. The saltwater that made his hair stick awkwardly to his face and lingered in the air yet another. Huntsman realized over a week into his nightly visits that there was a GPS built into in his communicator.

Syntax wasn’t stupid either. He knew Huntsman was visiting Sandy. He had to have. Huntsman did not trust him to not have turned on that GPS remotely on that first night to learn where he was.

So why stay quiet?

And why was Huntsman thinking these things, things he wouldn’t have thought weeks ago had he been doing something similar in other circumstances?

... he knew why... and it had to do with where he was. And who had been slowly starting to make him look at others with a more critical eye outside the hunt.

He let these thoughts roll around in his head, thoughts he has pushed down and down and farther down until over the course of the last 18 days, 2 and a half weeks and nearly a month since he stole the Crimson Jimsonweed petal from Sandy and the other reached out a hand in kind, until this moment.

It was just past 2:30 in the morning. Huntsman was laying on Sandy’s couch, only the third time he had stayed since that first late night, the other having gone to bed himself. And that blue cat with the matching mohawk was sitting on his chest.

“Get off me,” he hissed, only to be met with a low hiss from the feline. Not a warning or a threat, more a rebuttal to his own. Mo, he knew his name was, and he was the favored cat of Sandy. Always with him, on his shoulder or somewhere nearby. A smart and feisty little thing. He simply stared at the spider demon, moving to sit more firmly on his chest with a thump of his tail and a low purr. “Do not give me that look, cat. Or the purr. That cute act is all just a lie, I know you don’t like me being here.”

Mo did not reply, as he was simply a cat. But he blinked slowly at Huntsman, something Sandy told him cats only did with people they trusted not to hurt them, and he narrowed his gaze at the cat in suspicion.

“I’m getting mixed signals here,” he said, sighing as he sat up in defeat knowing he would not be resting any time soon with his racing thoughts. Instinctively, as he’d done this many times before with the other cats on the ship, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and let Mo slide into being held to his chest. The cat seemed to smirk in victory, as if getting him up and messing with him was his plan all along. “You’re weird. But then again so am I. So is everything about this... whatever this is.”

He reaches up, scratching behind the oddly colored cat’s ears and earned no reaction aside from the continued stare of the cat.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you watch me every time I come over,” he continued, stopping his scratching before roughly picking him up and holding him out across from him to glare at the cat. “How you always sit where you can watch me, are constantly glaring at me and growling when I get too close to your owner. How you just don’t trust me even though I haven’t done anything to you or him since that time on the mountain. But why would you trust me anyway, I just showed up one day in your house after we attacked you on New Years so... I can’t really blame you...”

He frowned, putting the cat down far more gently than he had held him up. He rubbed his face, looking down at the communicator that he wore with a sigh.

“... everything we did on the Lunar New Year was a mistake,” he muttered to himself, grazing the communicator with a claw. “I never asked any questions. Just went along with what my Queen asked of me. If I had asked something, anything, maybe she wouldn’t have accepted that spirit’s help with her plan. I was her advisor until Syntax came along, I should have said something! I’m supposed to be a hunter but I couldn’t even realize we were the ones being hunted until it was too late!”

This seemed to catch Mo’s attention. The smirk on the cat’s face faded into something of confusion, if that was possible for a cat, and he took a step forward and placed a paw on Huntsman’s leg and mewed up at him.

The spider demon barely reacted, not pushing Mo away like he normally would.

“If I had said anything Syntax would probably still be human, I’d still be advisor, and we wouldn’t be scrambling like headless chickens trying to figure out what she’s planning on using us for! Or Syntax wouldn’t because for some reason I’m here, on this couch, instead of in our lair! I’m here running away from the problem, giving them the barest scraps of tech I weasel out of your owner with nice conversation and company for tea because... because what!?”

He growled, curling in on himself a bit as he bit down on one of his fingers in frustration. But the words kept coming, maybe it was because he hadn’t slept since the night before or maybe it was just a long time coming. Maybe being constantly somewhere he finally felt safe when he hadn’t realized how unsafe he felt in the lair over the last few months broke down his walls that he spent so long building up. Maybe the talking he’d done with Sandy did it.

Or maybe there was no reason aside from him feeling safe ranting at a cat.

“I came for help at first but I didn’t need to keep coming. But I have every day and I know why but I just-I can’t! I can’t keep coming here every day like this, we’re running out of time! But I don’t want to go back, not with her there. But I have to, my Queen and Goliath and Syntax the smarmy bastard are there without me and I just... I can’t do this even though Sandy says I can. I’m...”

“Scared,” Sandy’s voice came from the nearby doorway, startling the spider demon from his ranting and making him realize that at some point Mo had actually crawled into his lap and was pawing at his hand.

“How long have you been standing there?” Huntsman asked in horror, not knowing how he could have possibly managed to miss the large form of the blue demon just. Standing there.

“Long enough,” he said softly, coming over and grabbing Huntsman’s wrist with the gentlest grip he could manage and pulling it away to inspect the bite he had inflicted on himself. “Huntsman, you-”

A soft bing rang through the air, the text notification from his communicator, breaking the tension between the two as Huntsman pulled his arm back to check it quickly.

‘Huntsman, Spider Queen is demanding your presence. She is getting angry. If you are awake you must return at once. Immediately, if possible.’

Another one came in, typed so fast he could barely finish reading the first.

‘Goliath is getting worried about her. Scared. She’s angrier than I’ve seen her since the festival and won’t listen to us. We need you here.’

And another.

‘I need you back here. Please come back. Please.’

Please...

In all the time Huntsman had known Syntax the other had never said that word without being condescending... but something about these texts... and the timing...

“Something’s wrong,” he said to Sandy, standing quickly and dropping Mo onto the couch gently. “I have to go.”

“Home?” Sandy asked, reaching to grab Huntsman’s coat without another question.

“Yes,” he replied, realizing that... oddly, that felt like the wrong answer to him. Somehow. “Synta-”

“You don’t have to explain,” Sandy interrupted, pushing a small parcel into Huntsman’s hands. “Not if it slows you down. Go, it’s the piece you said your friend needed.”

“... thank you,” Huntsman said, after a short pause, feeling like he should have done more as he rushed out the door and into the warm dark of night.

He thought he heard Sandy’s phone ring as he left but couldn’t be certain.

~

“You keep going,” Huntsman said after a short pause, turning back in the direction they came. “Just in case. But I have something I want to check.”

“Uh, be careful!” Goliath yelled back as Huntsman broke out his mechanical legs and sprinted back toward where they left the mech.

He may not know the Monkie Kid well, but Sandy had told him enough about MK that he thought that maybe... maybe...

Maybe if he came clean to Spider Queen...

He thought he heard a distant yelp that almost sounded like Syntax.

When he had returned Huntsman had found that Syntax was telling the truth. Their Queen was working in a near frenzy, trying to rush through the building of their mech. Syntax was trying to explain to her that there was not enough time to complete it at the rate she was requesting without the venom, that even with the extra materials the bots had gathered with the tech Huntsman himself had proffered they weren’t fast enough.

Then the Monkie Kid had literally fallen into their lair.

Huntsman didn’t know why he was there. He knew that Sandy couldn’t have told him what they were doing, he knew the other wouldn’t do something like that now after all the time they had spent together. His only guess was that one of the things that the bots had grabbed for the mech had belonged to the young man.

He heard the sound of fighting, his Queen and the Monkie Kid yelling, and somewhere distantly... he thought he heard Goliath yell too.

He almost turned around, almost went back, but something kept him going.

Until he burst into their little hideaway in the lair, a flash of golden light and the Monkie Kid standing over his Queen laying on the ground with the mech head destroyed behind him. They didn’t see him, but he could hear them clearly.

“Haven’t you figured that out yet?” His Queen argued. “There’s no running from what she is!”

Whispers on the wind followed and in flash of more brilliant, powerful light, there she was.

“Spider Queen’s right,” the Lady Bone Demon, the Lady White Bone, The White Bone Spirit, agreed as she stood tall and imposing and terrifying above them all. “Destiny will always catch up.”

Huntsman didn’t know what she did. Something, clearly, as the Monkie Kid held his head in clear confusion and agony and backed away from her in fear as Spider Queen stepped between the two of them. And without thinking he rushed forward, moving to stand behind MK and glower at the possessed girl before the three of them.

“Ah,” LBD breathed with a smile, tilting her head playfully as she looked at Huntsman and drew the other’s attention to him. “I was wondering where the final unnecessary piece ran off to. No matter, captured or not you’re only an extra in this little game anyway.”

“You!” Spider Queen snapped, turning her attention back to LBD once her surprise at seeing Huntsman had worn off.”I should have taken you out the second you walked into my lair!” She turned to MK and Huntsman with a look the elder demon knew to be full of disguised fear of her own. “Both of you! RUN!”

It happened so fast. Lady Bone Demon did something and... and Syntax was there. And Goliath. But they weren’t, it wasn’t them, not as they were. Blue and white and cold and ghostly instead. His Queen lunged at them and LBD and his own survival instincts took over as he grabbed MK’s arm and RAN. He barely registered when the young man pulled away from him and golden light flashed and suddenly they were going up.

There was something gripping his shoulder, sharp and small and he realized that somehow, some way, MK had turned into a bird and was flying out of the sewers with Huntsman and a sign of some kind in either claw.

There was more blue, a brilliant flash from that shot up into the sky, and the two of them plus the sign crash landed onto a roof.

A roof with a pig demon, a young girl with green streaks in her hair, an oddly well dressed for bed attire man who looked at him with more recognition than the other two... and Sandy.

Sandy, who looked down at him and MK with a mixture of confusion and slowly dawning horror at where MK must have gone and what them being together must mean.

As the Spider Demon stood, slow and clumsy in his lack of sleep and the shakiness of adrenaline, he looked back to the young man who had pulled him out of harm’s way without a single question.

“We have some explaining to do, kid.”

[out-of-control]

OUT

PREVIOUS: RUN

NEXT: CALLS

words: 1220

warnings: none

summary: Jax asks Jim out on a date.

Jax peels a strip of dry skin away from his lip with a thumbnail.

He's leaned up against the half-wall that separates the kitchen from the living room, staring with unfocused eyes in the direction of the sink. The tiny wall blocks him from view as Jim sits on the couch, tapping away on Jax's laptop again. 

Jax wants to ask him.

He chews at the knuckle of his index finger.

But what if it's weird to ask him now?

He bites down harder.

The worst Jim can do is say no.

Of course, the concept of Jim saying no is itself terrifying. But Jax is trying to be better now, to not be so goddamned scared of stupid shit. He drops his hand and walks around the wall to stand in the living room. 

"Hey, Jim," he says, trying to sound casual. 

“What’s up?” Jim responds easily, without looking. 

Jax tucks a sidelock behind his ear. His hair is getting kind of long lately; it's annoying. 

Here goes nothing.

"Do you wanna go out to dinner sometime?"

It goes right over Jim’s head. 

“What, like for tonight? Where, the diner?”

Oy vey. Jax shoves a hand deep into his pocket, shifts his weight awkwardly to one leg. "Not tonight," he says. "I mean like. As a. Date thing."

Jim blinks up at him. “Oh.”

“We don’t have to,” Jax says, agonized. “I just thought it could be, like, nice.”

Jim quickly backtracks, shutting the laptop with both hands. “No, just– um. I’ve never been. On a date.”

Jax blinks. Now it’s his turn to say, “Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a whole thing. I’d actually kind of prefer if it wasn’t. But I'd like to take you out." He pauses. "Well, maybe it would be having you take me out since you're the one with the car, but it's not really important, the point is that, just, I'd really like to go out, with you, as a date, so long as you also want to, but it would be fine if you don't, I just, like–” He stops.

“Okay,” Jim says quietly, and then sits up a little. “Okay, yeah. Sure. That could be nice.”

Jax feels his face break out into a smile. “Alright, then. I’ll fucking pencil it in.”

–

A few days later, Jax is fussing with his hair in the bathroom mirror. He's already dressed, in his most intact jeans and least offensive t-shirt since they're going somewhere kind of nice: a sit-down Indian place in town that Jax has wanted to try for a while. 

He grabs a fistful of hair and pulls it upright, reaching for the hairspray with his other hand, to freeze his spikes into place. Then he pauses.

He's always hated going out with his hair down; he thinks it looks dumb, for one, but it also makes him feel vulnerable in a way. A spiked mohawk sends a message. Sure, it gets you stares and sometimes shouts, but at least Jax knows he's broadcasting something on purpose. It's like armor, deflecting attention to his weird ass hair rather than anything else. 

But lately, he's been wearing his hair down a lot more, at least around the apartment. For a while it was because it was too much of a pain to do with his broken hand, and then it was kind of because he knew how much Jim liked it. Jax didn't get it, really, still doesn't, but he likes the way Jim will reach out to put his hand in Jax's hair, play with it. And he likes the way it makes Jim look at him.

Jax lets go of his hair, brushes it back when it flops into his eyes. He chews on the inside of his cheek, regarding the mirror with his hands on the lip of the sink. 

Then he steps back and walks out of the bathroom. 

"Ready," he calls.

It takes Jim a second before he emerges from the bedroom, mid-way through hardly buttoning up a black dress shirt, which is new. Between that and his old black jeans, it seems a little goth for him. That is, until he pushes his hair out of his face and Jax catches a glimpse of his pink eyeshadow. "Hi," Jim says, grinning. His eyes flick up to Jax's hair. He's blushing a little.

Jax's face feels kinda hot himself. "You look good," he says.

"You look great," Jim replies coyly.

"Had to one-up me," Jax says, shaking his head, though his chest is a little tight. He grabs his jacket off the couch and shrugs it on. "Should we go?"

Jim rolls up his sleeves– Alright, Jax thinks– before grabbing his own jacket. "Okay. Now I'm ready." He gives Jax a kiss on the cheek before going for the door.

"Hey," Jax says, heart doing a little jump as he follows Jim out. "I think you're supposed to save that for the end of the date."

Jim gives Jax a bit of a distressed look. "How am I supposed to know!"

Rather than answer, Jax simply snags Jim by the arm and pulls him into a quick kiss on the lips. Jim huffs in embarrassment, and wordlessly opens the other door for him.

–

Dinner goes well. They talk just as easily as they do at home, but something about the changed setting has Jax getting butterflies every time Jim's knee brushes his beneath the table. As they're walking back to the car, arms looped together, Jax is struck by a sudden impulse. "Can we– do you wanna stay out a bit longer?"

Jim gives him a kiss. "'Course. What do you wanna do?"  

Jax leans into Jim's side, feeling warmer than can be accounted for by the autumn air. "Dunno. You wanna just drive around?"

“Would you like to drive? Or be driven?”

"Hmm." Jax rubs his cheek against Jim's shoulder. "You be the chauffeur."

“Hmm. You just wanna stare at me, huh.”

"Yeah, maybe," Jax murmurs. 

Jim laughs and opens the passenger door for Jax. “Milady.” 

"Shut up," Jax says, though in reality he kind of likes it. He slides onto the seat, and as Jim steers back out into the street, Jax reaches over and turns the radio on.

"Anywhere in particular?" Jim asks, and Jax shakes his head. 

The roads aren't very busy; street lamps cast everything in shades of pale yellow. Jax keeps the window rolled down, one arm hanging out, until it's too cold to be comfortable. As he's rolling it up, he looks over at Jim: a single finger keeping a beat on the steering wheel, pink eyeshadow shimmering dimly, and one pale green eye lit up like a shard of sea glass as the rearview briefly reflects the headlights of the car behind them. He looks very handsome, though Jax finds himself wishing he could see Jim's scars from this angle. There'll be time for that, though.

A car in the right lane speeds ahead of them, the blazing red eye of its taillight leaving a streak like a comet in Jax's vision as it passes.

With Jim's hands steady on the wheel, Jax drums his fingers lightly against his thigh and thinks there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

[cutieodonoghue]

dark gray (10/?)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on tumblr!

///

Ten

During Henry’s naps, Emma has taken to reading for most of the day. So far, she’s made her way through almost thirty books, which must be a record of some kind. 

If anyone had told her two weeks ago that she would become a stereotypical housewife for the better part of a month, she would not have believed it. 

In the real world, she’s a police officer in Storybrooke with her father, who is sheriff of their little town. It's not a busy place, but it suits her well enough. 

She gets plenty of time off and she spends a lot of it helping her mother with preparing for her classes at Storybrooke Elementary. The woman is a saint, but sometimes she does need someone to help her balance such a heavy workload.

One of the things she’s most excited about is getting to sit with her mother while she eagerly wonders about every little detail of Emma’s life. It can be annoying, sure, but her mother has to be one of the most genuinely kind people in the world.

That kindness is something that Emma takes into consideration while she pours focus and heart into her day-to-day efforts with both Henry and Killian.

Pondering what one act of kindness she could perform for Killian, Emma makes a less-than-half serving of oatmeal for herself. 

Henry sits on a blanket on the floor nearby, playing with a makeshift doll that she’d fashioned out of an old shirt. 

He is a cute little boy, with his little dimples and his sweet, excited babbling. But the more important thing is that he seems happy, despite everything that’s already happened in his life. She’s glad he won’t have to remember this experience. One day, it will just be a story she’ll tell him and he probably won’t believe it. 

The front door opens with a squeal and comes clattering back as Killian steps inside. He looks over at her with worry in his eyes. "We've got some unwelcome company."

Emma furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Every so often, a ship of pirates comes off the coast of the island. I've never dealt with them directly. Usually I have to signal back to the mainland for help, but since I've disarmed our radio, we need to make all appearances that we are not home."

Fear rushes into the peace of the morning faster than she can think to breathe. Her heart begins beating faster, whirling thoughts and worries silencing her.

She turns the stove off and moves the pot to keep the breakfast she’d been preparing from burning.

Killian already makes his way through the small house, flipping off lights and ousting the fires that keep them from freezing.

Emma nervously bites at her lip and crouches down to gather Henry up into her arms. He chatters sweetly in her ear and she smiles, setting her palm to his belly as she gives his cheek a reassuring kiss.

"Come on, baby. We're going to play somewhere else." 

She steps into the living room where Killian enters in from the bedroom.

"The fires are out. Hopefully they haven't seen the smoke yet."

Emma nods. She doesn’t know what to say. Pirates weren’t on her bingo card of potential worst case scenarios, so she truly finds herself fearful and out of her depth.

Killian tips his head toward the bedroom. "Why don't you and Henry hide in there in case something happens?"

In case something happens.

Whatever dangers he thinks these pirates are capable of sends shivers up her spine. 

"What about you?"

He goes over to the bookshelf, digs into a box he keeps higher up, and removes a gun and its components.

“I'll be fine, love.”

Emma wants to argue, but he comes up to her and presses a kiss to her forehead, his hand warm against her arm. She squeezes her eyes shut, not realizing that she would be so worried over something that the circumstances are so unclear over.

It hits her as he's leaving a kiss to the top of her head that he's trying to comfort her. That maybe he's worried about the end. That maybe he has no idea what’s about to happen.

She watches him as he walks away, then takes a shaky breath. "Be careful, Killian."

He turns, his eyes filled with anguished determination. "Stay hidden. It shouldn't be long."

Emma holds the back of Henry's head and walks with him into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. She carries the baby to the bed and sits him down, taking a few steadying nervous breaths as she stands by him, watching his curious little eyes light up. 

She wonders what Killian’s doing, if he's sitting out in the kitchen or if he's going to go outside. She can't really hear anything, and it produces a sinking feeling in her gut as she tries to keep Henry occupied.

After a little while, she hears shouting voices, but she can't make out the words for the life of her, and she bites hard on her lip as she gathers up Henry in her arms. 

Quickly, she goes to the opposite side of the room, ducking to hide as best she can behind the bed. She holds Henry tight to her chest, determined that she will protect him at all costs.

She’s shocked when she hears gunfire and her eyes widen, holding the little boy ever tighter, especially when he whimpers fearfully. He can clearly sense that something is going on, so she puts her hand over his ear and her chest against his other, allowing him to listen to her pounding heart instead.

"It's okay," she hushes him. "We're going to be okay. Killian is going to take care of us."

Emma clamps her eyes shut. She doesn't know if she actually believes that or if she just needs to hear it from someone. 

The doorknob to the bedroom jiggles before it opens.

Fear crawls along her skin, but she manages a deep breath, recalling her training as an officer. Prepared to fight, she decides she’ll put Henry under the bed to protect him before making her move and grabbing the shovel that leans against a chest opposite the bed.

She hesitantly looks up and over the top of the bed, expecting the absolute worst.

Relief fills her chest at the sight of Killian standing there instead.

She rises to her feet. "What happened? I heard shots."

"I took care of them." He clearly isn't very distressed about what happened, but he trembles a little upon closer examination.

Emma crosses the room to stand before him at the door. "Are they gone now?"

Killian nods. "For the moment at least. They've taken my warning."

Acting on impulse, she wraps her free arm around his neck, burying herself in his grasp. He tightens his arm around her and she hears him sigh.

"I was worried about you," she admits softly. 

He allows her to rest in his embrace for a few solemn moments before he speaks. "How is he?"

Emma shuts her eyes and breathes him in, taking the moment to be thankful that they’re all safe. 

She takes a step back, looking at Henry where he hangs over her hip. He chirps and babbles, making her smile as she tugs at his little makeshift outfit.

"He's good."

Killian smiles softly when she looks at him, reaching out to tug at Henry's foot. "That's a lad. Did you keep Emma safe for me?"

Henry makes a noise that makes them both laugh.

Emma kisses the crown of his head and smiles when he decides to collapse against her collarbone with his hands clutching at her hair.

When she looks at Killian again, he admires her with eyes she's seen more often lately.

He's been getting better with Henry, but the little boy still prefers her company to his, probably because Killian refuses to hold him for very long. He helps when he wakes up crying in the middle of the night and sometimes sings to him and plays with him in the evenings when they're all gathered in the living room with nothing else to do.

"How are you?" she asks him. "Did they hurt you or anything?"

He shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips. "I was the better arm."

"Thank you," she says again, seriously.

He nods once. “How about you, love? Are you alright?”

She takes a breath, assessing, and nods. "Yeah. I am. Just a little shaken up, I guess.” 

On another instinct, she brings her hand up to his face, gently thumbing over the apple of his cheek. She feels him lean into her ever so slightly, his eyes falling shut briefly when her hand meets his face. “I'm just glad nothing happened to you."

His eyes are full of longing. It's downright ridiculous..

"Emma," he breathes out, shaking his head slightly.

She feels her chest tightening and she doesn't know what to say. She pulls her hand away and swallows at the lump in her throat.

He looks at her for a long few moments, then steps a little closer to her. He pauses and cradles the back of her head with his hand, pressing his lips against her forehead in a lingering kiss.

Without another word, Killian turns to go. 

Emma takes a deep breath, unsure what that was about.

/

She laughs with Henry when she has him sit in the tub to take a bath. 

He's happy to be in the water and he splashes her far too much, but she doesn't mind. Emma spends quality time scrubbing his hair and putting bubbles onto his nose to make him giggle.

Maybe being a mom isn't such a bad thing. In fact, she kind of likes it. A lot.

She wraps Henry up in a big warm towel and dries him off, cuddling with him on her way back to the living room. 

The front door opens and closes as she's wrapping Henry's make-shift diaper over him, smiling as he watches her with curiosity. Emma pokes his belly and he flails his legs, making her laugh.

"You are a very lucky boy, Henry. And I'm lucky that I met you."

She strokes up at his hair, making it into a little wispy mohawk before she pulls him into an outfit created by one of Killian's old tee shirts.

Henry kicks his feet and clutches at her hair as she kisses all along his little face. Her heart swells warmly.

"Hey, I love you, little guy. Do you know that? I love you."

Henry just blinks at her.

"I'm going to love you for a long time," Her heart races, because she's never loved anyone like this before. "I promise nothing is going to hurt you as long as you and I have each other."

Emma gives him another kiss to his cheek and sits with him in her lap, her hand pressed against his belly while one of his hands examines her other one.

She glances up, finding herself looking at Killian leaning against the doorframe. She wonders how long he's been watching her when he unfolds his arms and crosses the room.

Killian sits beside her on the sofa and she turns to look at him with a cautious smile.

"Did you finish working?" Emma wonders as casually as she can.

He nods and looks down at Henry when he chirps. 

"He's a noisy fellow, isn't he?" Killian asks, smiling a little.

Emma laughs, nodding in agreement. "He's really happy right now. He loves having baths."

Killian reaches in and strokes Henry's soft cheek with the back of his hand.

"You're good for him," Killian tells her softly. "You make a good mother."

Emma feels a blush fill her cheeks, something she thinks he must notice, because he smiles at her softly.

"Maybe the ocean brought us here for this," Emma muses. She turns her attention onto Henry. "I mean, since it'll probably never happen organically… this is my one shot at being a mom."

When Emma looks up at him, Killian furrows his brow at her in confusion.

She rolls her eyes at her own logic. "You know, because I do so much better on my own. I chase off decent guys and cling to stupid ones."

He hums thoughtfully. "And where do I fall in that spectrum?" She opens her mouth, her ears reddening and words not coming forward. He chuckles, resting his hand against her thigh. "I see."

Emma gapes at him. "It was just a kiss. I don't think that constitutes being on the spectrum. I thought you didn’t even want to consider… us being… involved."

Killian tips his head to the side in thought.

Her jaw falls open in mild surprise and she shakes her head. "We're only going to be here for another week and a half, Killian."

He stares at her for a few seconds and sighs, pushing his head down so he stares at his lap. "I know."

Emma stares at Henry. He's sleepy, his head drooped and his eyes falling shut.

"I know I keep asking you this, but, when we leave, what's going to happen to you?" she asks boldly. "Are you going to stay here?"

Killian stares at her, his gaze unfailing. "Emma-"

"If you can't tell me you don't want to come with me, then it's not worth the heartache."

Emma manages to smile at him, regardless of the tight feeling in her chest. She stands to take Henry into the bedroom to sleep. As she stares at the boy in his cradle, she thinks about the absurdity of it all.

He’s all on his own here. He has a clear cut way out if he leaves with them, but he won’t take it.

Determined, she marches back out into the living room and faces the sofa where Killian's still sitting.

"Why are you here? On this island?"

Killian looks up at her and shakes his head, wordless.

"You know that you're not cursed, right? You've had some horrible stuff happen to you, but that doesn't mean that everyone you care about has to die, or that you’re never going to have a life like you had before everything happened."

Killian clenches his jaw and stands up, clearly getting a little wound up by what she’s saying.

“Just because you're here, Emma, and just because we're friends, it doesn't mean I'm ready-"

"That’s crap. Don’t tell me you’re not ready.” Emma shakes her head. “You keep telling yourself that and you're never going to have any space in your heart to move on.”

He laughs, spiteful. “You’ve been here two weeks and suddenly you’re an expert on what I’m ready to do?”

“I want you to come home with us,” Emma argues passionately. “Okay? I want you to come home with me and Henry, and watch him grow up, and… meet everyone I love and learn new things and go new places…” Feeling weary, she sighs. “I want you to stop hiding out here.”

“I’m not…” he stops himself, falling quiet.

Searching his eyes, she waits for him to finish his reply, but he doesn’t. 

“You’re not alive so you can act dead, Killian.”

Pivoting fast on her heel, she goes into the bedroom, but knows they're not done with this fight.

/

The couch is an uncomfortable bed, but he's gotten more or less used to it in these past few days. He drags a blanket over him and stares at the wall across the room.

His heart races and his mind is a blur as he considers Emma's frustration over his choices. Maybe he's being stubborn, but it's for a good cause. His life has been one disaster after another.

Killian thinks about Liam, how strong his brother had been up through the end of his life. Liam probably wouldn't want him wasting his life away just as much as Emma doesn't.

On a grimace, Killian shakes his head. No, Liam's gone, so he doesn't get to have opinions, and Emma barely knows him.

But still, it feels like he's falling into the deepest, darkest pit and he's never going to be able to get out. The heart of him cries out in silence, begging him to follow Emma and Henry away from this island.

She wants him to. She wants him.

It terrifies him, the thought of living a life away from here. Especially after stranding himself here for so long.

Emma might be worth it.

/

She wakes to the sound of Killian's voice.

Her eyes open slowly and she realizes in a jolt of awareness that he's sitting at her side, his fingers pressed against her arm to try and shake her awake. 

The room is softly lit by early dawn's glow, and she'd think nothing of Killian being here, but they did just have both pirates and a pretty serious argument. His being at her side this early in the morning could be for anything, as far as she knows.

Emma pushes herself upright. Her eyes blink open wider and she forces herself to wake up as she asks, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

She places her hands between her thighs and looks up at Killian, who sits in silence. He wears a dark expression on his face, something sorrowful knitting his brow.

Suddenly, he slides his fingers down her arm until he finds hers. Emma's eyes meet his in surprise and he smiles slightly.

"There are reasons," he tells her. "Reasons I didn't pursue you when I had every opportunity." He scans her face with determination. Clearly, he's trying to fight something in his mind. "But I'm tired of waiting on the demons from my past."

With her heart in her throat, Emma notices that there are dark circles under Killian's eyes, as if he'd been up all night thinking about the weight of the world that rests upon his shoulders.

If he’d been up all night thinking about this, then what she’d said to him must have been meaningful.

“I… don't..." Emma pauses. She shakes her head. This is something she never would have expected. Her fingers fit easily between his and she stares down at them with her heart still racing. "Killian, I don't want to get hurt when I can leave."

He smiles a little, his eyes absolutely flattering her with the way they light up with adoration. "I don't know if I'm ready to leave, but I know I want to keep you in my life."

She tilts her head, resting it on her shoulder. "Killian-"

He smiles as he mirrors her, clearly captivated by something about her.

"I'm terrified of what it means, but I want to be with you, Emma." Killian says solemnly. "When we kissed, it exposed something." Her gaze shifts back to his. Her heart races at the words tumbling from his lips. "I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah, to believe that I could find someone else, that is, until I met you."

Her heart squeezes tight and she feels tears for no actual reason prickling at the surface of her eyes. She knows he's being serious, because of that deep, meaningful look in his eyes. 

Emma takes a deep breath, like the moment before taking the plunge, and leans in close to him. He's warm and kind when he kisses her, not demanding a single thing from her.

And as she kisses him, for real this time, she feels something she isn’t sure she’s had in a very long time. She feels hope so tangible that she almost worries that it’s too good to be true.

[frankfukers]

This ones gonna be a little long sorry but I have been super ultra mega horny recently and I can’t stop thinking about revenge era frank.

Specifically I’ve had a fantasy about revenge frank working at a tattoo shop and giving me a tattoo. I come in late and its just him and one other guy. I walk to the back and frank is sanitizing his work station, his tiny little shirt already exposing the tattoos around his waist. He greets me with a smile and starts small talk, asking me how I am and if this is my first tattoo. I tell him it isnt my first but I am still nervous because it’s in a new spot. Hes so nice and comforting about it, “oh don’t even worry about it sweetheart, I have a very light hand.” His hair would be a messy Mohawk and eyeliner would be smeared on his eyes, barely noticeable as it had faded throughout the day. He compliments the art I’m getting, and it leads to us talking about other artists we both enjoy. The conversation flows naturally while he puts the stencil on and gets me ready. Right before starting the tattoo, the other guy in the shop comes around the corner “hey man I’m starving, I’m leaving you the keys close up when you’re done.” And then just like that the tension would start because were all alone. He looks slightly nervous as he readies his machine, hovering over my body and asking “you ready?” I nod and he begins tattooing, and Im surprised by how little pain I feel. “Wow you do have a light hand.” I giggle, and the tension eases slightly. He laughs and relaxes into my body, really focusing on the tattoo. I start asking slightly more personal questions, like “how long have you been a tattoo artist?” And “oh you’re girlfriend must love getting free tattoos, huh?” And of course he says that he, in fact, is single, but that he would love to practice more on me sometime. He works his way up to a more sensitive part of my body and I hiss in pain, biting my lip and letting my head fall back on the chair, trying to just breath through it. A few small moans and whines of pain leave my mouth, and frank tries to comfort me, “you’re doing great, you’re sitting so well.” I start focusing on his other hand resting on my body and begin thinking about how cute he is and how nice his hand would feel against my throat. I start moaning a little more, and I notice that every moan makes frank bite his lip or squirm slightly in his seat. The tattoo is over way too soon, and he takes extra time wiping it down and rubbing aquaphor into my skin. “You’re all done.” He smiles, rolling back and motioning to the mirror so I can look for myself. I pose in the mirror, putting on a bit of a show for frank. “Ugh I love it so much, I can’t thank you enough.” I walk over to him sitting in his chair and sit in his lap, feeling that he’s already beginning to get hard. I coo in his ear, “I don’t have cash, how can I tip you?” The tension is so thick he attacks my neck immediately, pushing me down on his lap. I moan into his ear and his hands snake his way into my hair, pulling lightly as he works his way to my lips. “Are you sure you wanna do this here babe?” He’s already so flustered and red and rock hard against my thigh, there’s no way I’m stopping now. I get right in his ear and start begging “yes please please I want you so bad, right now.” And he gets so overwhelmed by my voice in his ear he pulls me by hair off his lap and bends me over the tattoo chair. He leans over me, getting right in my ear “you were driving me crazy, ya know. All those moans and whines while I was tattooing you.” I play dumb, “what do you mean, I wasn’t whining.” “Liar.” Spank. I yell out, not expecting the contact. His hand grips my throat as he leans down right next to my ear. “I guess that wasn’t a whine either, huh?” He takes his dick out from the zipper on his low rise pants and slowly slides himself into me. The whole shop fills with our moans and he’s extra careful to not touch my fresh tattoo.

Afterwards, he’d be so touchy, pulling me into his lap and covering my neck in kisses. He’d keep checking my tattoo to make sure my wrap didn’t get messed up. And he would whisper in my ear, “you sat so well baby. So good, so pretty.” And he’d of course offer to take me to get food.

Good to be back guys peace and loooove

-scab

Yesssss scab!!!!!!

[magicmanias]

American Sweethearts

Pairing: Steve Rogers × Reader 

Summary: The Avengers take road trip. Meanwhile, Steve tries his hardest to convince himself that he’s only friends with you.

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst, Smut!

Word Count: 4.5k (Wow)

A/N: This is my first time doing smut, so let’s hope it’s not shitty...

Post Age of Ultron (Steve, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Vision, Wanda, Rhodey, Bucky, Peter, Thor, Bruce, Y/N)

“Ok ok... Do we have everything?” You placed your backpack on the bed and carefully sifted through it. Hunting knife, rope, water, matches, food, first aid kit, towels, batteries, charger...

Everything is in there. You looked in your duffel bag; shoes, clothes, brush, earbuds, contacts, toothbrush, jackets, soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

You grabbed your things and went downstairs.

The Avengers had planned a camping trip in the woods in upstate Montana. Everyone was going: Tony, Steve, Natasha, Thor, Bruce, Sam, Vision, Bucky, Wanda, and Peter was tagging along.

“Roll call!” Tony yelled, putting an emphasis on ‘call.’ As he called each person, they went and placed their things in the large van Tony had bought specially for this occasion. When Tony called your name, you went ahead and put your things in and closed the trunk.

“Hey, squirt!” Clint messed with your hair and gave you a big bear hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“Aw, I miss you too, chicken-hawk,” you hugged him back. Clint had been away with his family for a while and you didn’t get much of a chance to formally greet him when Ultron attacked.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked. You looked around but saw him nowhere.

“Relax, sweetheart. He’s just finishing taking a shower. He went on a run. You don’t need to miss him that much,” Nat winked at you. You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks slightly flushed pink.

Tony slipped into the driver’s seat and despite everyone’s protest, he let Peter sit shotgun.

“This is BS, Stark!” Sam yelled as he took his seat in the third row of the van. “The kid gets the front with all the room and we gotta sit back here all cooped up?”

Tony shot up and placed his hands on Peter’s ears. “Relax, Big Bird. I just don’t want to lose the kid. His aunt’ll kill me,” he muttered. Peter gave his trademark look of confusion.

After the driver’s seat, there were four rows. Clint, Sam, and Nat sat in the back. Rhodey, Bruce, Thor sat in the third row. Wanda and Vision sat in the middle. And you, Steve, and Bucky sat in the front. Bucky went in the car first, followed by Steve, who insisted on taking the middle seat, and finally you.

“All aboard? Let’s go!” Tony put his foot on the gas and began to drive away from the compound.

—

Steve couldn’t stay still. As a soldier, he was used to staying completely motionless in cramped places for long periods of time. But that wasn’t the case now. His right leg bounced up and down, a nervous tick which Steve always had, ever since he was a scrawny little kid in Brooklyn. Bucky seemed to notice Steve bouncing his leg, but didn’t question it. He already knew it was because of the woman sitting across from him. Steve wasn’t nervous, however. He wasn’t scared either. No, scared was moments before the big fight to save the world. But this? This was terror. True, utter, horrifying terror. Though you couldn’t see it on his face, his heart rate soared and the butterflies in his stomach might as well have exploded. All because he was in the closest proximity he had ever been with Y/N. With the woman he could never stop thinking about. The woman he lived for. The woman he’d give up everything for.

The woman he loved so much that it hurt him in the cruellest ways possible.

Bucky watched as Steve gushed over at you. Your gaze was directed at the scene laid out behind the car’s windows. You plugged your earbuds in and played your Oldies playlist. Bucky rolled his eyes and elbowed Steve.

Steve gripped his arm and frowned at Bucky, mainly because he had been caught.

“Just talk to her,” Bucky whispered, not wanting the attention of the whole car.

“She’s listening to music,” Steve defended. He needed to find every excuse not to talk to you. Or more specifically, not to humiliate himself in front of you.

“She’d rather talk to you,” Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve. He changed his seating to turn to Steve. “Look, punk. You’re not good with women. We know. But she likes you. A lot. So it doesn’t matter if you screw up. She’ll like you anyway. Just ask her out.”

“What? In the car? With Tony here? I don’t think so.” Steve chuckled lightly.

“I heard my name,” Tony called out behind him. “It better be about how great I look in these hiking boots.”

Bucky ignored Tony. ”I'll give you until the end of this trip. If you don't ask her out by then, I'm going to tell her myself and I'm going to pound you like the little punk you are.”

“Hey, I'm just as strong as you now.”

“Maybe, but I'm older.”

“Buck, we're both over a hundred years old by now. Age doesn't really matter at this point.”

“That's coming from the younger one.” Bucky winked at Steve.

Steve just rolled his eyes, ending his conversation with Bucky. He looked out of the window to his left—the window on your side. He tried to look at the forests of upstate New York, but found that his focus always returned to the girl leaning the car door, probably listening to Sinatra or Bennet.

You placed your chin in your hand and started to softly sing the next song.

“Daisy is darling, Iris is sweet, Lily is lovely, Blossom’s a treat…” you mumbled along to the song.

“Of all the sweethearts, a guy could meet… Well I finally chose an American Beauty Rose…” You popped your head up to look at Steve. You had instantly recognized Steve’s voice. It was almost as if your very being could detect his present actions. He hadn’t even realized that he continued to sing along with you.

You took your earbuds out and grinned at him. “You know that song?”

“I’m from the forties, doll,” Steve shrugged. “I know every Sinatra song. And American Beauty Rose just happens to be one of them.”

“Well, that is coming from ‘America’s Sweetheart Hero,’” you made quotations with your hands, finished with a cheesy salute. “I mean, the whole country is practically in love with you.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not perfect, Y/N.”

“No one is,” you agreed. “You’re less flawed than others, but you do still have flaws.”

“Oh? And what might those be?” He lifted an eyebrow at you as if he were challenging you. And you wouldn’t say no to a challenge against Captain America.

“Well to start, you’re incredibly handsome,” you teased. Steve looked down and blushed. “I mean, come on, now Clint has low self-esteem.”

“Hey!” Clint yelled from the back of the car. “I am perfectly fine with how I look.”

“Yeah, whatever Barton. Remember when you had that mohawk?” you shot back, turning your back to face the back of the car.

“That happened like seven years ago, man! And you’re still bringing it up?”

“Hey, you’re the one who had the awful haircut,” you shrugged, smirking. Steve felt a small pang of jealousy over the friendship you had with Clint. You always joked around with him and you were the closest with him. He watched at your eyes crinkled at Clint. You never looked at him the way you did with Clint.

She’s never going to look at me the way she does with him. I’m just her friend… Steve, you’re just her friend, he thought.

You turned back to him. “Don’t think I’m done with you, Steven Grant Rogers.”

“How do you know my middle name?”

“That’s beside the point. I have more flaws to point out. Like for one, you run too fast.” You looked at your hands in fake frustration. “I mean, what are you, the Flash?”

“That’s not really a flaw, doll,” Steve said. “And the handsome thing isn’t either.”

“Ok… fine. Um… You haven’t watched Star Wars yet,” you pointed out. “Everyone’s watched Star Wars.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll give that to you. I haven’t yet.”

“What’s Star Wars?” Bucky asked. Sam’s eyes widened.

“You don’t know what Star Wars is?”

—

Five hours and one Bucky vs. Sam fight later (Natasha intervened and won), it was getting pretty late, and you had finished rereading your book. So, you decided to try and get some sleep. Most of the Avengers were already knocked out; even Tony, who was now letting FRIDAY take the wheel.

You leaned against the side of the car, but it was uncomfortable. You shifted to try and find a better position but didn't work. You glanced over at the others to see what position they were in for inspiration but found that they were all sprawled over each other. Of course, you couldn't copy them—Steve was next to you.

Steve. He looked so peaceful when he slept. You knew he was a light sleeper and you didn't want to wake him up, you went back to trying to sleep on the door.

Steve stirred. He heard shifting. He cracked his eyes open slightly and peeked over at you. You were trying to sleep in the car. It was probably the cutest thing Steve had ever seen. The pout on your face was prominent at you tried to move the seat belt away from your cheek.

“Hey.” You jumped at the sound of his quiet, raspy voice.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up? I didn't mean to. I know you're a light sleeper and—”

“It's ok, doll,” Steve interrupted, a smile on his face.” Can't sleep?”

“Uh, yeah. This damn car is uncomfortable. You'd think Tony would have invented a car you can sleep in by now.”

“You can sleep on my shoulder,” he said quickly. He bit his bottom lip in embarrassment. You brought your hand up to your face to cover your hot cheeks.

“Or—you don't have to. I was just offering if you wanted—”

“Can I?” It was your turn to interrupt. You gave him a meek smile to encourage him.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. The smile you gave him nearly knocked him out. He swallowed. If he could barely handle a smile, how could he survive a whole weekend with you?

Slowly, you turned to place your head on Steve's shoulder. You could feel Steve tense at your touch. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ before closing your eyes.

Steve had always believed in a heaven, but now he knew what it felt like. It was you by his side. He couldn't sleep anymore. All he could do was watch your even breaths and soft mewls you made in your sleep.

Steve snapped out of his thoughts. What was he doing? You’re just her friend, Steve. Just a friend.

—

You woke up to yelling the next morning.

“Tony! Just park the damn car!” Sam yelled.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Come on, Stark,” Thor continued. “We want to stop at the strawberry farm!”

“The strawberry farm?” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Hesitantly, you lifted your head from Steve’s shoulder.

“Hey sleepy,” Steve said softly. “We were just uh… debating on whether or not to stop by a strawberry farm.”

“Why are we debating about it? It’s a strawberry farm.” You immediately forgot about your interrupted sleep. “Let’s go!”

“We would, but Stark here refuses,” Natasha said.

“Look, Pepper is allergic to strawberries and if I bring home strawberries to her one more time, she’ll probably leave me,” Tony defended.

“Tony! Park. The damn. Car,” you practically growled.

Tony parked the car and everyone got out. You ran out to the farm and quickly got a basket to pick some strawberries.

Steve laughed at you as you ran through the field. Everyone was excited, but no one was as excited as you. He imagined himself running with you and feeding you strawberries. Friends can do that, right?

“Fuck it, I’m getting some strawberries. I’ll just eat ‘em by myself,” Tony said as he handed the farmer twenty dollars. “We can eat them on the ride.”

Everyone picked a basket of strawberries and already began to sit down and eat them. Peter and Wanda played with the farmer’s puppies.

“Hey, we should probably get back on the road. Can someone get Y/N?” Wanda asked.

“I got it,” Steve volunteered, a little too quickly. The rest of the Avengers went back to the car and waited. Steve began to go back into the field to chase you down.

“Y/N! Y/N, we’re leaving now.”

“Oh, ok. I’m coming,” you called over. You pick a couple more strawberries before starting to run over to Steve.

“Ah!” You tripped over a rock and fell. Before you hit the ground, you felt an arm swing around your waist.

Steve stayed quiet as he lifted you up and placed you back on your feet. He handed you back your basket. You bit your lip in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. I’m such a clutz,” you gave him a weak laugh.

“It’s ok. I um… We should get back.”

What was he about to say?

—

One more day and a lot of pee breaks later, you were finally at the campsite in Montana. You all trudged into the forest and finally, you found a good spot to set up.

“Ok, now we can fit two people in each tent. Everyone partner up!” Tony yelled.

Wanda partnered with Vision, Nat went with Bruce, Thor went with Clint, Rhodey went with Tony (they let Peter join them because Tony brought a really big tent for himself). Steve was about to go up to Bucky and ask if wanted to bunk together, but before he could, Sam snatched him up.

“Buck? I thought you hated Sam,” Steve asked, confused.

“Nah, it’s fine. We just bicker. Plus, guess who you’re stuck with now.” Bucky winked at him before picking up his tent and leaving with Sam.

Steve’s eyes widened in realization. He quickly turned around to see you, smiling awkwardly and nervously at him. You felt anxious. You didn’t want to ask him to share a tent with you! Would he even want to?

Steve approached you. “Hey, doll. Guess we’re stuck together, huh?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I guess all the couples kind of stuck together and I’m surprised Bucky and Sam are together. You don’t have to share with me if you don’t want to bu—”

“Woah, doll. Slow down,” he chuckled. “I’m happy to share with you.” You blushed heavily at him and just hoped he didn’t notice.

Steve tried to ignore the blush on your cheeks but it made his heart clench. He could get through this. He could get through this.

A few camp songs and a ton of s’mores later, it was getting late once again. The Avengers retired to their tents to get some sleep.

Steve walked into his tent to find you there.

“Um, where should I change?” you squeaked.

“Oh, uh. You can change here. I’ll just walk out.” Steve’s voice almost cracked at your question. He avoided thinking about it and walked out of the tent.

When you were done, he walked back in and he tried to quell his reaction. You were wearing tiny pajama shorts with an almost see-through white tank top. He could see your nipples poke through your shirt, even though you tried to cover it with your hair. It didn’t work. He swallowed and averted his gaze.

“Er, are you going to change too?” you asked. You shifted your feet awkwardly.

“Oh, yeah. But you can stay. I don’t want you to have to put your shoes on to go outside,” Steve answered.

“Ok,” you managed to answer. It came out merely above a whisper. You turned around to face the wall of the tent so Steve could change. You were in the same area of confined space with the person you had a massive crush on while he changed. Great.

Eventually, you turned back around to see Steve in loose sweatpants and no shirt. You had to bite your lip again just to keep yourself from letting out a moan. He looked so good. You imagined what it would be like if he took you right in the forest.

“Sorry, I usually sleep without a shirt. But I can put one on,” Steve blurted out, snapping you out of your dirty thoughts.

“Huh? Oh no, it’s ok!” you said quickly. “If that’s how you normally sleep, then feel free. It’s perfectly fine.”

Suddenly, you shivered as you realized just how cold it was without your sweatshirt.

“I should have brought warmer pajamas,” you muttered.

“If you’re cold, you can um...you can share my sleeping bag with me. It can fit both of us. You don’t have to. Only if you’re comfortable.” Steve realized how dumb that sounded and began to suggest another option. “Or maybe Tony has some more blankets.”

“Could I sleep with you?” you asked him quietly. You played with the hem of your shirt. A nervous habit which Steve had noticed a while ago. He loved your little nervous habits.

“Yeah,” he breathed out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He sat back down into his sleeping bag and you climbed in with him. He scooted as far away from you as possible to avoid making you uncomfortable. But much to his disbelief, you snuggled up into his chest, making contact with him as much as possible.

You were so cold, you tried to take all of Steve’s heat. You just hoped he was ok with it.

Steve almost sighed at the feeling of having you so close to him. Sure, he’d hugged you before, but having you close like this, was something completely different. He felt himself harden at the feeling of you rubbing up against him to gain friction to heat yourself up. In the process, you had accidentally rubbed your leg against him and he had to suppress a moan.

Soon, you fell asleep in Steve's arms and he fell asleep with his face covered in your hair.

—

“Up and at ‘em crew!”

You jumped at Sam's voice. Everyone got up from their tents. Nat, Clint, Bucky, Vision, Thor and Rhodey were out in a couple of seconds. The others took a little longer, including you and Steve.

You were hesitant to leave his arms, but you would have to get up at some point.

You didn't really know what to say to him, so you remained silent while you both changed, your backs turned.

You walked out of the tent with Steve to see the group standing around.

“You took a long time to get ready,” Wanda whispered to you. “Any reason?”

“Um no?” you mumbled, playing with the buttons on your flannel.

Wanda didn't say anything in response but you saw the suspicion is her eyes. She gave you a light pat on your shoulder and turned her attention to Vision.

“Everybody got everything?” Bucky asked.

“Alright let's go!” Clint yelled.

They decided to go on a hike through the forest, walk up part of the mountain nearby, and finally end up at a waterfall that dumped into a lake.

After a couple of hours, you made it to the cliffside pathway of the mountain.

You took your camera out to take pictures of the group. Your favourite one was of Steve and Bucky looking at the view.

“I see the lake waterfall!” Bruce said. Peter, Thor, and Clint ran ahead of the group to see the large lake.

Finally, the Avengers arrived to the large lake. They set up the things they brought and sat to enjoy the view.

Bruce and Clint taught Thor and Peter how to fish, Rhodey tried to pry Tony’s tech away from him, Bucky, Steve, and Vision began to make a fire, and you, Wanda, and Nat started to take a walk around the lake.

“So, Steve huh?” Nat asked you, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you asked, trying to keep your composure.

“We know you like him,” Wanda explained.

“Well I— I don't… I mean I…” you sighed. “Was it that obvious?”

“Only to us,” Nat reassured. “Steve, on the other hand, is totally blowing his cover?”

“What do you mean?”

“He likes you too. He's so bad at covering it up,” Wanda laughed.

“You should tell him you like him,” Nat urged, giving you a slight nudge.

“What? No! I can't tell him. He-He doesn't like me like that. We're friends.”

“Are you kidding? Rogers is practically in love with you, Y/N,” Nat scoffed.

“The way he looks at you… isn't the way someone looks at a friend,” Wanda stopped walking to look at you. She looked serious. “Believe me, Y/N. He loves you.”

—

The sun started to set and the Avengers began to settle down by the fire. But you couldn't sit down. You were filled with anxiety.

Did Steve really love you? Did he really look at you the way Wanda said he did?

You needed to clear your head. You decided to go for a swim. It was dark, so you stripped out of your clothes, leaving just your bra and panties on, behind a rock near the waterfall and jumped into the cold water.

You swam underneath the waterfall to have some time to yourself and think things over. There was a large opening made of stone in the cliff behind the waterfall.

You sat down facing the waterfall and placed your head in your hands.

“Y/N.” You heard someone moan your name.

You yelped and stood up. It was Steve. Bare naked. And masturbating. To you. You gasped and turned around. You blushed profusely.

“Oh my God! I'm so sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here,” you apologized. You suddenly realized how little you were wearing as well and your blush grew.

“Oh God, I'm so sorry Y/N. I didn't mean for you to see… Um. You can turn around now. I put some pants on,” Steve said nervously. You slowly turned around with your hands trying to cover yourself. He gave you a weak smile.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“I-It's ok. I mean I just heard my name so I looked behind me and… ” you stuttered.

“I'm so sorry. This is really embarrassing. I didn't um…”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He placed his hand on the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Do you like me?” You walked closer to him. You felt yourself grow wet.

“I-I uh…” He sighed in defeat. “Y/N, I'm in love with you.”

“You-You are?” You felt your breath hitch.

He nodded slightly in reply, still avoiding your gaze.

You closed the space in between the two of you and he looked down at you.

“I love you too, Steve,” you breathed.

He met your eyes with his in surprise. “You do?”

You nodded and smiled.

Steve couldn’t believe it. You loved him? You were in love with him… Before thinking, Steve grabbed your face and kissed you. It was hungry—like he had been starved of you. His hands grabbed both sides of your face. It grew more and more heated. His hands lowered to your hips and he began moving you to the wall of the stone cliff. Your back hit the wall and you broke off the kiss.

“I want you,” you cooed. You rubbed your hips against him to gain some friction. He moaned, nut held your hips firm and closed his eyes shut.

He opened his eyes and looked deep into yours. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes, God yes. Steve, I want you.” You started to unbuckle his pants and pulled them down, releasing his hard cock. You moaned at the sight. You started to lower yourself to have a taste, but Steve stopped you.

“You first, princess.” He unclasped your bra and moved your panties to the side. He stuck a finger into your dripping pussy.

“You’re so wet.” You whimpered at his touch, but you craved more. “Steve please,” you begged. “I need you so much.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Steve whispered. “Now that I have you, I’m taking my time.” He took his finger out of you and you sighed at the loss. You gasped when you left his tongue lick a stripe along your clit.

“Oh God, Steve,” you moaned. He continued to lick your clit. He stuck two fingers in your cunt and began to move them in and out. You were a moaning mess. “Oh… Yes. Oh my god, Steve. Steve!”

You felt yourself reaching your high when Steve removed his fingers once again and stood up. You were about to protest when Steve crashed his lips onto yours. You moaned his mouth. He tugged at your panties and ripped them off of you before tossing them to the side. You felt the tip of his cock poke into your opening.

“Are you ready for me, doll?”

“Yes, Steve. I need you so bad,” you moaned against his mouth.

Slowly, he sheathed himself inside of you. He grunted and suppressed a moan. “God, you’re so tight.”

Eventually, you moved your hips to tell him you were ready for him to start moving. He began to slowly thrust into you, pushing you further into the wall. “Y/N, God, I love you so much,” he grunted. You shifted your hips slightly, which caused him to let out a moan.

He started to thrust into you faster. You continued to moan and buried your nose into his shoulder. You felt your high coming again. “Steve,” you whimpered. “I-I gonna cum!”

“Me too, doll,” he grunted. He brought his hand to your clit and began to rub it quickly. You let out a loud moan. “Come on, doll. Cum for me.”

“Oh, oh Steve! Oh God! Steve,” you moaned as your pussy throbbed and you came over his cock. Steve was close behind as he let go inside your pussy, his cum filling you up.

“That was so much better than I ever imagined it,” you breathed as you came down from your high.

“You imagined it?” Steve asked, smiling at you.

“Maybe…” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest.

“Y/N?” Steve said softly, brushing a hand through your hair.

You hummed in response.

“I meant what I said,” he continued. “I love you.”

“I did too,” you said, looking up at his bright blue eyes. “I love you.”

Steve kissed you again, softer and more affectionate this time.

“Maybe we should get back to the group. We’re probably leaving now,” Steve said. You began to pick up your clothes.

“Maybe we can have a round two in the tent,” you suggested, putting your bra on.

“If you can stay quiet while I fill you up again,” Steve said. You bit your lip to hide your moan.

“Come on. The sooner we get back, the sooner we can get to it. We do share a tent after all.”

Tag List: @crist1216 @mylittlefandomfanfictions @winenighthoe  @denzmallows

[whydoesfireburn]

The first chapter of Why Does Fire Burn? now on Tumblr

There are spelling and grammar mistakes but enjoy anyway.

 “Shoto wake your ass up,” Dabi yelled at his little brother, banging on the door.

    “Screw off,” Shoto muttered back, hiding his face in his pillow. The morning was too evil to wake for. Then there was a quieter, much more gentle knock.

    “Come on, Shoto,” Fuyumi said, opening the door and walking in, “You have the entrance exam today. You don’t want to be late.”

    He groaned but got up when Fuyumi ran a hand through his hair. Shoto got dressed in his school uniform after his sister left and then came out for breakfast.

    Fuyumi was making eggs, bacon, and rice, and Dabi was scrolling through his phone at the table. Shouto sat down next to him, and without looking, his older brother messed up his hair in a playful manner.

    “Stop it,” he says, hitting at his hand. Dabi smirks and puts his phone down. Fuyumi, bless her soul, placed our plates in front of them, and they began eating.

    “Natsu’s coming home tonight for dinner,” their sister said halfway through.

    “Cool,” the youngest said with his mouth full of food.

    “What do you guys want for dinner?” she asked.

    “Soba,” Shoto said.

    “Was that even a question?” Dabi asked. 

    Soon it’s time for Shoto to go. Dabi and Fuyumi were watching as Shoto put his shoes and jacket on.

    “You’re going to do great,” Fuyumi reassured, straightening her brother's jacket, “And if not, it’s okay. We’ll find something else. Don’t worry.”

    “I’m not worried,” he said.

    “She was talking to herself,” Dabi said. Fuyumi then smacked his shoulder.

    “Come to the shop after the exam,” Dabi said.

    “Got it,” Shoto said before opening the door, “Bye,” he said, stepping out of our apartment. Shoto sucked in a breath and said, “Let's do this.”

    XXX

Shoto Yukitomo was 15 years old when he went to take the UA entrance exam. He had almost blinding snow-white hair that was long but didn’t go past his neck. He had mismatched heterochromia eyes. One stark gray, and other burning turquoise. Over his left eye was a large burn scar. His papers said that his Quirk was named Cryokinesis. It allowed him to control the ice he made.

    Yukitomo did well in the exam. Using his ice to freeze robots before they could strike him. In the end, he had close to 78 points. But then the ground began to shake and rumble. And then there was the faux villain worth 0 points. He made a massive ice wall. Stopping the thing in its path.

    XXX

After the exam was over, Shoto headed to Dabi’s shop. Dabi ran a tattoo parlor called Cremation Ink. It was a pretty good size and had a nice setup. Music was always playing, and the place was warm and bright. It smelled like ink, burnt wood, and coffee. Dabi seemed to really love running the place, but the business could be slow sometimes. Dabi had to work a part-time job at the record store down the street just to make sure that he could run this place and keep the apartment the siblings lived in. Sure Fuyumi worked too, but, a preschool teacher doesn’t make all that much.

    Shoto walked in and heard the sound so the old American bands Dabi liked to play. Along with that was a buzzing noise that came from a tattoo gun. Shoto walked in further and saw that my brother was in the middle of work.

    Knowing it to be a while before they’d go, Shoto moved over to the large leather couch back at the front of the shop and pulled out his book and read. An hour and a half later, the two come in the front of the store. The customer was a guy with a bright blue mohawk with the sides of his head shaved. The tattoo he had gotten was of a blue dragon running down his arm.

    “You sure you like it?” Dabi asked as they reached the door.

    “Man, I freaking love it,” the guys said, “It’s sick as fuck.”

    “I’m glad,” Dabi said, “So, you’re good with me putting it on my site, social media pages, right?”

    “Yeah, man, go nuts.”

    “Alright, come back soon,” Dabi said, holding the door open for the other guy.

    “Will do Dabi,” the guy said before leaving.

    “How was your day?” Shoto asked, not looking up.

    “Fine, yours?”

    “Fine,” he said, “You talking to that guy you met last month?”

    “Don’t,” his brother warned, walking towards the back.

    “What?”

    “Shoto, I am serious.”

    “Is that hard for you?”

    “Do you want to die brat?” he asked, “Because I can make that happen.”

    “You wouldn’t hurt me. Fuyumi won’t let you,” Shoto said, eyes still glued to the pages.

    It’s another half an hour before the brothers lock up and head home. On their way back to the small apartment, Dabi asked,” So how was it?”

    “Fine, I guess,” the white-haired boy said. 

The two brothers couldn’t look more different as they walked down the street. Dabi was a good couple inches taller even though he has been on the short side most of the time. Shoto was tall, too, but not his brother’s height. Shoto had snow-white hair, and Dabi had jet black. Both of them had pale skin, but Dabi’s arms and torso were covered in ink. Images of flames, snowflakes and monsters, flowers, and other symbols. His ears and nose were pierced in several places.

When they got home, they found that their other two siblings were back. Fuyumi was working on dinner, and Natsuo was in the living room, TV blaring. Shoto plopped down next to his older brother, and Natsuo ruffled his hair.

“Hey, Sho, how the exam?” he asked.

“Good, I think.”

“I’m going to go look over some calls,” Dabi said, shrugging his jacket off. 

“Then you go and shower,” Fuyumi said, “You too, Shoto.”

Shouto just sat, leaning against his other brother as they watched the news. For a split second, the was flash of the number two hero on the screen, but before anything on the TV could be said, the channel was changed to a volleyball game that was on.

“Who the hell used all my shampoo?” Shoto asked, coming out of the bathroom, shaking the empty bottle.

“Shouto,” Fuyumi said, “You use too much of it.”

“No, I don’t,” he said.

“Yes, you do. And so does Natsu.”

“Leave me out of this,” the older boy said.

“Did you use it?” Shoto asked.

“ I will not confirm or deny anything.”

Shoto threw the empty bottle at his brother, but Natsuo caught it. Shoto growled.

Later Dabi came out of the shower, and they ate dinner. The four siblings talked about their day. Dabi spoke about people who went into the shop. Fuyumi shared stories about her class. Natsuo talked about his professors and classes. And Shoto talked about his entrance exam.

“They made you fight robots?” Natsu asked.

“Yep.”

“Huh, well that something.”

“Speaking of school,” Dabi said, “Have you picked a major?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe physical therapy,” Natsuo said, “You know so I can help people.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Fuyumi said, smiling.

As they got more into the meal, Shoto’s brows knitted together for a moment. “What am I going to do if I don’t get into UA?” his tone wasn’t one of despair or dread. It was one born out of pure curiosity.

All three of his siblings looked at him for a moment and thought. What would Shoto do?

“You become a hoodlum like your brother,” Natsu tested. Dabi hit him up the back of the head.

“Ow!”

“Don’t worry, Shoto,” Fuyumi said, resting her hand on top of her brothers, “If UA doesn’t work, we could find another hero school. Or we can find something else for you to do if you want. We just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks,” Shoto said.

         If you were to look at Yukitomo siblings, you would see that they were closer than anything. That they were loyal and relied on each other. The neighbors thought they were all delightful children. They truly didn’t deserve what happened to them. It was horrible luck for such sweet children. To have their father horribly, painfully killed in a home invasion, which left poor Shoto scared, and their mother insane. Poor Dabi had been tasked with keeping all of his siblings safe at such a young age. All four of them worked so hard to stay together. Truly lovely children, with terrible luck.

After dinner, the four cleaned up dinner and sat in the living room and watched action movies.

XXX 

Later that night, while the younger two of the siblings were asleep, Fuyumi and Dabi stayed up talking.

“I’m get worried,” Fuyumi said, pacing the kitchen floor, “We’re running out of money. I’ve been looking over the bills and checks, and we only have enough for maybe the first third of the year. And we can’t just have Shoto and Natsuo go out and get jobs with them both going to school,” she ran a hand threw her long white hair.

Dabi didn’t want to say it out loud, but he was getting worried too. She was right. Money was growing thin, and their brothers couldn’t get jobs like they did. Natsuo would be in college, and Shoto was going to going to a hero school of all things. He wasn’t going to put the stress of getting a job on them.

“Yumi,” he said after a minute, his voice sounding more confident than he felt, “Don’t worry. I have a bunch of appointments scheduled over these next few months. It will be more than enough.”

“But will it?” She asked, worried, “Dabi, you know how hard it is to support all of us. You know sometimes, a fully booked month is hardly enough.”

“Relax,” he told her, “I have a plan if things start getting bumpy.”

“What?!” she cried a little too loud. She had stopped pacing, “Join a gang and sell drugs? Rob a bank? Sell off all of our things?”

“No,” he said, trying not to get upset with her worry. She was much more open with emotion in times of stress when it was just them.

“Then what?” she asked, “And if you say Taijo, I swear to the gods-”

“I promise it’s not Taijo,” he whispered, “And keep your voice down, you’ll wake Natsu and Sho.”

“What is it then?” she asked, more softly, her hands shaking.

“We draw some cash from our funds,” Dabi said plainly.

“Touya!” Fuyumi cried before she was hushed. Dabi cringed at the sound of the name. It was strange and bitter after so long. Even though it was the dead of night there was no one else, but them were up, Dabi looked around. Checking to make sure no one heard. After a minute, he let out a sigh, and his shoulders dropped.

Dabi looked at his sister, and placed his hands on her shoulders carefully, “Yumi, listen to me. I know it’s risky, but we’ve gotten away with it before. No one knows they’re there, and no one will know that the money’s gone. And it is just a little bit. Just a little bit of cash, that’s ours anyway. We’ll wait for a few more months. And if the business at the shop keeps doing well, then we won’t. Please, Yumi, trust me on this.”

Fuyumi looked down at the ground. She was shaking a little bit, and tears were welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want to look at her brother. Her older brother, who always made sure she was safe and okay. Who would hold her when she cried. Who took on all the problems Fuyumi couldn't figure out on her own. She felt weak next to him. Dabi pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nodded.

“Okay,” she sobbed, “but only in a few months. Promise me.”

“Okay,” he said, rocking her, “I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry I’m not stronger-”

“Fuyumi, you’re stronger than any of us,” Dabi said, in a gentle voice, “You do things that I never could. You handle all our finances, you cook and take care of us when we’re sick, you help Shoto and Natsuo with homework when the world knows I couldn’t have. You are so strong, Fuyumi. I never want you to think otherwise.”

She nodded. For the longest time, Dabi just stood there holding his little sister. It was moments like this; they both remembered how much they need each other to get through things. How they had to work together to make sure their little brothers could have it better than they did.

 “It’s okay,” Dabi promised, “It’ll be okay, Yumi. Only five more years of the hard stuff. Five more years,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

Five more years. Then they could finally make a move and not worry about as much about losing each other.

XXX

(Two Weeks Later)

Two weeks later, the four Yukitomo siblings were in the kitchen. Fuyumi was grading some papers, and Dabi and Natsuo were talking about work and school. Shoto was looking through the mail. There were six pieces of it. Three of them were bills. One was a postcard from one of Fuyumi’s friends. The other was a magazine. Finally, there was a letter to Shoto. From UA.

Shoto slowly opened it without saying anything. Then a small dice dropped out. Then a holographic image popped out of All Might. The other siblings turn their heads, and their jaws dropped.

They all sat and listen to the results. In the end, tears ran down the siblings' faces, and there was the tightest group hug of their lives. They all smiled and laughed for a good long while. Once all the crying and laughing stopped, and they all let go of each other, Shoto said, “I’m going to UA.”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Dabi said, hugging him, “You are.”

Shoto was going to UA, and he was going to be a hero. A hero who helps people, like his siblings, helped him, and he was going to a better hero than he ever was.

[vampirexrightsxactivist]

Borderline

tw for abusive remus endgame lamp

Roman stared at his empty room. The room that had been his for almost nineteen years, since he was one really; when his family had decided that they needed more space for their twin boys. Checking his phone he sighed and put it back in his pocket, making sure that everything else he needed was also in there. He had three hours before his parents got back with his brother… He needed to get out of there before they got home. He knew Remus hadn’t gotten better, not with the words he’d whispered in Roman’s ear about how he would be sorry for sending Remus away again. But when had he ever gotten better? This was the sixth mental health facility he’d been to in less than five years. He didn’t want to get better, unfortunately, their parents couldn’t seem to see that. Roman shook his head and made sure his bags were secure and wouldn’t bust open. They had a long car ride ahead of them, his boxes already in the U-Haul his new roommate had helped him get. He smiled, Thomas Sanders was a blessing to mankind truly. Ro didn’t know where he would be without him…

“Hey, Roman buddy we really got to get going if we want to get into Chicago with no rush traffic.” The brunet popped his head into the room, a lopsided smile on his face. It softened into a more serious one when he took in Roman’s expression. “Hey buddy, look at me. We’re going to be okay. Trust me.” The Latino took a deep breath and gave Thomas a beam full of false bravado. “Of course we are Thomas! You have the one and only Roman Reyes at your side…” He quieted down. “I just hope my parents and Virgil can forgive me for not telling them where I’ve vanished off to.” Virgil Morales, Roman’s unlikely best friend from diapers to graduation robes, the two had been inseparable, especially when Virgil had come out as first agender and then bisexual. Roman had defended xir from everyone who tried to harm xem. Roman grimaced. He couldn’t tell xir where he was going in fear that Remus would somehow get it out of xem. “I know buddy, you can tell xem when it’s safe.” Thomas grabbed a bag and gently lead him out of the house.

“Hey Thomas I’ll be home late, I’m covering Valarie’s shift.” Roman shifted his phone so it was more comfortable while he wiped down a table. “It’s all good don’t worry Ro,” Thomas promised, his tone betraying his amused smile on the other side of the line. They’d been in Chicago for almost three years now. It was weird to think about how time had passed so quickly. They’d found jobs to keep them alive and happy. 

With their jobs came Valarie, Joan, Talyn, Patton, Logan, Emile, and Remy. As much as Roman missed Virgil he was happy and safe here with these people. When he found himself missing his emo nightmare of a friend he found himself seeking out Logan or Patton. Their arms wrapped around him while they watched a movie together. And if his lips found theirs after some time he ignored the guilt of how he’d wanted that with Virgil. Roman’s shift went by faster than usual after he got a text from Logan telling him to meet him at Patton’s other job- the cafe down on North Michigan Avenue. They had a surprise for him, one of the few things he loved more than Patton’s laughter and Logan’s long-winded rants was a good surprise. Clocking out he ran to catch the El train, his leg bouncing nervously while he sat. As the train made its way down Roman thought about his partners…

The first time Logan and Roman had met it had been at an after-party for a jazz concert that Remy had been involved in. The sunglasses-wearing fiend played the saxophone of all things and was surprisingly good. Roman had been dragged over to where Emile, Remy’s queerplatonic partner, had been discussing somethings with the bespectacled black-haired man learned to be Logan Young. Their friendship had started with Roman insulting Logan by calling him ‘Nerdy Wolverine’. Logan had snarked right back with Logan referring to Roman as ‘Shakespeare’s bastard child three times removed’. Patton would later tease the two about how the romantic tension just flew off them in waves. 

Patton had been introduced to Roman twice, once while they were having a feminine day and another while they were having a very confusing day. So Roman had assumed that he had met two different people, oh how wrong he’d been. Patton had explained their gender identity with a great deal of patience to the entire friend group, Roman having understood almost immediately despite the initial confusion took great pleasure with helping them with their makeup. 

And so their friendship grew and blossomed into a loving relationship. It was almost perfect… even on nights where Roman just wanted to curl up in an old hoodie that somehow smelled like lilacs all the time. If only he could have the best of both of his lives. The past and the present… but only the good parts. Stepping off the El train Roman pushed his way through the crowds and smiled when he saw the signage for the Mind Cafe. Pushing the doors open he beamed at Remy who was with a customer before stopping and giving Logan a kiss on the forehead. “Hey, love. Where’s Pat?” He asked softly so as not to disturb the customers. Pushing up his glasses Logan smiled fondly. “They’re helping the new employee with a mess xe made.” Logan gestured over to where Patton was calming a young adult down with kind words and a smile. The person was taking deep, albeit shaky breaths and clinging to xir patchwork hoodie… one that looked very familiar. Roman let out a noise that sounded like he’d been punched in the gut. He made his way over to the two just in time to hear the new person speak. “Sorry I panicked, this hoodie was the last thing my best friend gave to me before he disappeared.” It was Virgil. Xe looked good, xir’s hair was shaved on the sides and from what Roman could tell it was probably spiked into a very tall mohawk most of the time, a very vibrant purple mohawk at that. “Virge…” Roman choked out, tears stinging his eyes.

Patton looked up sharply and made a soft cooing noise, they stepped away from the two, allowing their boyfriend time with someone from his past. “P-princey?” Virgil stuttered through the nickname as xe shot up, the hoodie was forgotten as xe stared at Roman with haunted eyes. “I thought you were dead?” Xe asked quietly, circling him. “Your parents wouldn’t say anything. Just that you were gone without a trace.” Xir’s hand reached out before xe snatched it back as though xe was afraid they’d get stung. Roman chuckled and shook his head. “No, not dead. I just had to get away from Remus…” He trailed off and picked up the hoodie, handing it back to xem. Virgil took it before hugging Roman as tightly as xe could. Roman hugged back with just as much intensity. Xe couldn’t find the words to describe how xe felt at the moment. So xe settled for a long hug that caught Logan’s attention. He raised a brow and gestured his head to Patton who was also watching them with a soft, happy smile on their face. “Hey Ro? As much as I love you and I’ve missed hugging you, your partners are giving me a look.” Roman pulled back and blew a kiss to Patton and Logan respectively. “Xe’s aro so you lovely babes have nothing to worry about.” He assured, kissing xir’s forehead, leading Virgil to Logan’s table where they sat and talked until the cafe closed when the four of them took it to Roman and Thomas’ apartment.

Now our story does continue, one could assume that eventually, the four end up in a polyamorous arrangement, Virgil slowly becoming an inseparable part of the group.  Xe was the person Logan went to when he needed to talk about things that Roman and Pat didn’t necessarily understand. Virgil and Patton spent hours baking and doing each other’s nails bonding over various nostalgic shows and songs. The two were also a force of nature at getting their boys to take self-care days. Roman and Virgil rebuilt their relationship, growing stronger through the years. Yes, there were bad days, but the good outnumbered them heavily. 

And all was well.

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Let's do something crazy: Valentino/Magnus

THERE WAS A TIME THAT VALENTINE MORGENSTERN STOOD FOR ALL THAT WAS GOOD AND NOBLE IN THE CLAVE. THERE WAS A TIME:

Valentine Morgenstern knows how frustrating this must be from the perspective of someone like Magnus Bane. Bane, for all his age and power, has always been a bit of a rogue element. The price of independence. His own fault really. His credibility isn’t what it could be; his alliances with the Clave strong but not strong enough. Bane’s greatest weapon outside of his considerable magic is that people like him better than they like other people. He’s popular. A Rockstar. He’s used to getting his way. Finding his words failing now on unsympathetic ears, unmoved by any appeal to familiarity or trust?

It’s almost funny.

“Are you not hearing what I’m saying? None of that is true!” He’s so angry now he’s at that strange desperate stage between completely losing it and crying. Warlocks. The older they get, the deeper, bigger, more unwieldy their emotions. Magnus is losing control of his to the utterly calm face of Maryse Lightwood. “People are dead! Someone is doing this on purpose and you need to do something about it. I’m telling you right now.”

“We are looking into, Mr. Bane. As I’ve been saying for the last five minutes. Do not make me remove you from this premise. I’m sorry for your loss, but the facts of each case stand as they are until such a time as new evidence is presented.” Hell, Maryse is good. She stares down a five-hundred (six-hundred?) year old immortal who is so angry he’s starting to lose control of his glamore and she never even blinks. “We appreciate the services you’ve rendered to the Clave and your diligence as a citizen in bringing us your concerns, but these matters are being handled.”

Which is when Bane telekinetically snaps her clipboard into fifteen pieces, the entire things shattering like glass in her fingers.

“You’re not handling shit,” Bane snarls.

Valentine thinks he’s probably going to have to intervene.

Maryse, again, doesn’t flinch though every single nephilim in the room grabs for their stele. She calmly holds up one hand to stave them off, never looking away from the warlock in front of her. Magnus doesn’t back down. He really should. He’s just used magic against a shadowhunter, however cosmetically, and Valentine knows that Mayse has made actionable mountains out of less. Buried people for less.

But Bane’s got this look, feral, but calculated.

No. Not here. Bane’s got no hold at the Clave, but he’s popular enough it will cause trouble. Can’t do it like that.

“I will give you a warning,” Maryse says reasonably. “Next time you bring magic to bear against me, I will have to detain you. I remember the courses you taught at the Indonesian Institute. I would rather not arrest a former teacher–”

Magnus laughs and the whole room shivers, aches with the potential energy of his fury, a physical presence in the room. 

“God, you grew up, huh? They could put my eyes out in front of you  and you wouldn’t flinch.”

Maryse narrows her eyes.

“The Law,” she says, “is hard, but it is the Law.”

“Fuck you,” Magnus says. “You’re a murderer and all the Writ in the world won’t undo it.”

Valentine separates himself from the doorway he’s been watching from and crosses the room. Magnus sees him coming and his expression immediately changed to relief. And why shouldn’t it? Luke and Jocelyn were favored students of his; they have him on speed dial. Too bad they’re in mission in London and won’t be back for a month.

“Valentine,” he says, pushing past Maryse. “I need to talk to you. No one else will listen.”

“Of course,” he says, clapping Magnus on the shoulder. “Apologies for the welcome. Let’s take this to a conference room.”

Magnus follows him. He’s agitated. A scent of static around him like its own pressure system. Valentine thinks, idly, how easy it would be to turn around and shove a seraph blade through the warlock’s stomach, wrench it up, watch every inch of magic fall to utterly useless in the face of direct action. Magnus is glancing warily at all the other shadowhunters milling through the halls of the Institute and on closer inspection it’s clear to Valentine the warlock’s not sleeping. That’s he’s ragged. Makes sense. A lot of his friends are being detained and disappearing.

Valentine shuts them in a conference room and Magnus immediately launches into a rant.

“Someone is framing downworlders. I can prove it. I have a dozen witness accounts, a forensic spell that’s admissible in court, and I’ll testify myself. Viggo and Verity were killed before those weapons were put on their bodies. This is a cover up. You have something wrong in your ranks, Valentine, and no one will listen to a downworlder, you have to—”

“Magnus. Calm down,” Valentine says. He crosses the room, placing a hand on the warlock’s shoulder. “I know. I know something is wrong. And I’d appreciate it if you weren’t. blowing things up in my foyer while I try to hunt it down.” He squeezes his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Magnus stares. “You know?”

“Yes. I’m putting a stop to it.”

Magnus keeps staring at him, then the relief seems to catch up to him all at once and the warlock kind of falls back into one of the chairs at the nearby table, dropping his face into his hands and exhaling like he’s been holding that breath for a week. Valentine studies him. Bane isn’t that big really. A perfectly normal-looking man. Beneath the mohawk, the nail polish, the boots, the make-up, and the rage he’s actually just… this. A very stressed out and emotional creature staving off a panic attack in a conference room.  

“Thank god,” he says. “I thought I was going to come in here and you’d tell me I was crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” Valentine says, moving to lean on the table beside Magnus. “I swore an oath to protect the people of this city. That includes your people.”

“Viggo and Verity were my friends, Val.”

“I know.” Valentine places his hand again on the warlock’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve find who did this, I swear. It won’t be much longer now.”

Magnus reaches up, places his hand over Valentine’s. “Thank you. That… it means a lot.”

“No thanks needed, Magnus.”

The warlock looks up at him. Hmm. Valentine is old enough now to admit there are a few things he enjoys and one of them is having beautiful people looking up at him. Magnus Bane is one of the most powerful people in this hemisphere and he is, objectively, beautiful and right now he looks… ragged, exhausted, like he’s been in a fight recently, his make-up smeared from sleeping in it or going all night not sleeping and wearing it. His dark hari is touch-wrecked, the style ruined, his clothes rumpled. One could almost imagine this is what he looks like after someone fucks him.

Valentine wonders, idly, if Magnus’ cat eyes come out during that kind of thing or if he hides it.

“It is needed,” Magnus says. “The Clave needs more people like you. Looking for this. You understand. No one is infallible. Even nephilim are human and humans care capable of terrible things.”

“I know.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, Magnus. You’ve done enough.”

Magnus stands up and before Valentine can do anything about it, the warlock pulls him into a tight embrace.

“Really, Val.” He seems overwhelmed, his voice raw. “Thank you. I know I can trust you to make this right.”

The warlock is surprisingly sturdy in Valentine’s arms. He’s so… grateful. He’s leaning against him, his head tucked against his shoulder and its very odd how human Magnus can seem. How pliable. Valentine wonders what he could do with gratefulness this complete as he stands there, comforting one of the most dangerous men in New York, imagining the look on the half-breed’s face the day he realizes the mistake he’s made. He thinks it would be so… correct  if Magnus would just fall to his knees right now.

Not for that (well, maybe for that) but just because that seems natural.

Magnus Bane built so many things for the Clave – the Portal systems, the ward walls, the rune apps, so many things. He’s so useful. He’s also still hugging Valentine long past it being strictly appropriate and Valentine should really let the warlock go. But there is something… about this. Knowing. Holding complete power over someone who has no idea, particularly someone as individually powerful as Magnus Bane – the vicious one, the summoner, binder, ward-worker.

Valentine suspects he could, if he wanted to, pull the warlock around and pin him to the table and he wouldn’t do anything to stop him. He won’t do anything to stop Valentine until it’s too late, the trap closing around an animal. There is a standing order, actually, not to kill Magnus if possible but to subdue him because of all the warlocks in New York… he’d have a place in the new world.

On his knees, of course, but a place.

“It’s going to be okay,” Valentine says, the way Luke or Jocelyn might. “Don’t worry, Magnus. You can rely on me.”

“I know.” He hugs the shadowhunter more tightly. “I know you won’t let me down.”

Valentine smiles.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep 40 PART 1/2: So Much Random Stuff Happens That It Requires Two Parts

Most of the time, Yugioh’s plot is delivered in nice, bizarre, bite-sized segments, offset by duels that I skip. But then, in this episode they decided “Hey, we should drop some plot. Like a lot of REALLY WACKY plot.”

And thus we have an episode with over 80 caps. So, this’ll be a two-parter! The other part will show up later. Like...when we finish it.

Also, despite the fact that this is probably one of the more important episodes of the season, it has quite some damage on the recording on Netflix. You’ll see that it isn’t really cropped right on the sides, and in some parts it’s got motion blur I couldn’t avoid. One day, Yugioh will get it’s Sailor Moon remaster, but this is not the day. Also, if they redubbed Yugioh, it would be an absolute tragedy, but that’s a different story.

TL;DR Forgive the massive amount of text in the upcoming recaps. There’s just so much they did and I uh...didn’t want this to end up being over 100 caps this episode alone.

So, lets get into it: The Yugi crew is looking for Pegasus.

For some reason, Tea suddenly remembers what went down the night before and decides “I bet Pegasus is hiding in that spooky tower we don’t actually know how to get into because we climbed it with a grappling hook.”

(Sometimes I get used to Yugi’s eyeliner and then they throw a shot like this at me and it’s like DAMN, Yugi, when did you have time to apply that stiletto heel to your face? Like most of the time I’m just put off by the awful hair and then the rest of the time I’m just really jealous of this emo boy’s wings.)

With that they suddenly remembered...the other stuff.

(read more under the cut)

I like how Joey is just so incredibly fed up with magic at this point. Out of all of them, he seems to hate magic the very most although his best friend is a walking dark magic portal. Joey is just completely done, but unfortunately for Joey it turns out all the magic up to this point hasn’t even remotely been the amount of magic that this show is going to throw at us, because this entire episode is a bunch of wizards just screwing with each other.

I’ve mentioned before that it feels like the power players of Yugioh are kinda like Greek Gods where they just really can’t be bothered about 95% of the time--but when they are FINALLY bothered enough to move their own ass, they just kinda sweep the floor clean and leave me utterly baffled.

Anyways, Pegasus actually is in the spooky tower, to my disbelief, at this non-euclidean desk that doesn’t seem to exist in time and space.

And then Kaiba wakes up in a cabbage-patch lookin jail cell. I would love to see more of his reaction to that but alas, this episode is not about Seto Kaiba.

Pegasus decided to make good on his word, mostly because Yugi is a cursed Pharaoh and he doesn’t want to see what happens if he doesn’t make his end of the bargain. To be quite honest, getting your mind scrambled would have probably been better than what did eventually happen to him in this episode.

Seriously, did this guy ever sell a painting that wasn’t a card? His portfolio would just be one person. And they do say that you shouldn’t make your portfolio too many styles but, damn, you can’t just do one person, unless your going to work for one specific type of video game, in which case sure just draw that one space punk chick over and over it seems to work for you.

Bakura decides to show up, and he’s very Bakura about it, introducing a new Bakura mechanic that I didn’t at all predict would ever be a thing.

Bless this storyboarder.

After showing off his weird tarot ability for no other good reason than to mess with Pegasus for a little bit, he decides to make me regret ever saying this necklace looked like it has five dicks.

I am so sorry, I had no idea! I had no idea it would be shooting lasers! What the hell, show?? What genre am I even watching anymore??

Also this whole concept that at any point these items can just shoot anime lasers and start a...whatever this trope is called, is so bizarre to me. They CAN do this...but they prefer to use cards.

They CAN do this, at any point, but they prefer to trap the souls of you and your friends in a card so you must play even more cards.

Or they can shoot you with a laser and solve their problems that way.

But why would they? They can like...play cards and do tarot and read minds and make card monsters real so who would ever want to shoot freakin lasers!

I do appreciate that Pegasus’ laser is pink like the salmon I chose for his font.

My bro argues that Pegasus probably sees just fine with the golden eyeball, but I feel like it can’t be the same, like a Spike Spiegal situation. It’s not like they ever tell us, anyway.

Him being alive for centuries is just never brought up for the rest of the episode. It comes up here and then Bakura’s like “Woopsie! Change the subject!”

Kid’s show!

As a kid an episode of the Rugrats freaked me the hell out--you know the one where Reptar becomes alive? I couldn’t take that one, it was terrifying. So maybe I’m not one to judge, because I was not a normal kid when it came to anxiety (in fact a legit phobia of dogs gave me pretty severe panic attacks on a weekly basis) but, it seems like Yugioh is a lot like brother’s Grimm because they are SO READY to cut off body parts, revive corpses, and overall gross me out, just to make a point.

Is it necessary? Eh.

But is it bizarre body horror we can stuff in this kid’s story? YES LETS DO IT.

With the way they set this up it looked as if they were just going to have them show up in the nick of time or something, but instead the show was like “lol, these kids? You’re kidding, right?”

He’s literally missing an eye and Croquet’s exact line was something like “he’s fallen ill.”

Also, I’m glad we got a cameo from Double-Spike Mohawk Mullet Man in this episode, giving Pegasus a fireman carry like a trooper.

So, because they can’t not, and because Pegasus’ security is only effective at random times of the day (they must have a lot of smoke breaks or something) the four decide to raid Pegasus’ bedroom. Why would you ever want to do this to the guy who was ritually sacrificing people the night before!?

Joey’s weird crushes on blondes that are...not in High School. Joey. Stop this. You are a child.

Anyways, Tea goes straight for the juicy stuff, because if there’s anything in this world that I would never ever want to read is a grown man’s journal filled with all his unfiltered thoughts.

Then we’re welcomed into a Pegasus Flashback, because why not make a tragic past even more tragic? Anyways, it’s OK because anime food lives here.

Bro called them gravity melons. I want to point out the party cups drawn from the side sitting on the round table we see from the top. Love it. Also realllllly love that guy with the mustache and glasses in the bottom right corner. There’s some good stuff here in this vaguely 80′s flashback.

Anyway, she totally dies. The flashback goes through things we’ve been over before--they get married, she gets sick, she turns into a rose and then becomes a grave in a really poorly kept graveyard.

And so Pegasus turns to religion. Yes, you read that right, He decides, he wants to find a religion that will explain afterlife to him, and he’s like I might as well start with the oldest and work up, so he goes to Egypt.

Uh...OK. I mean if you’re just looking for a religion with an afterlife you could have chosen...almost any of them. You could have stayed in America and like gone to...anywhere but, the guy was like “Mummies, youknow?” and went to Egypt although Cecelia is already dead and buried so it’s not like he can do the mummy trick to her now. It’s a little LATE?

My brother and I were so entranced by this bizarre hat, that we wanted to see if it’s ever been made real. AND IT HAS.

MARVEL AT IT:

IT IS VERY EXPENSIVE.

LOOK AT THAT DUMB HAT!

We checked Amazon for cheaper listings, but only found trucker hats with the Square Mason symbol on it, and Illuminati trucker hats like this one.

My brother wrote this note to them. I hope they read it and take it to heart.

Anyways, our newly found joy, held aloft by the discovery of perfect square brimmed hats was quickly sullied.

His hat is a transformer. But a round to square kind.

So in walks this guy. His name is Shadi. I’m telling you that right now because I want you to pay attention to how long it takes before we find out his name is Shadi. He is going to tell us his name at some point, and it’s very weird when it happens.

Pegasus doesn’t seem to realize it is not at all normal for a guy in modern Egypt to be walking around with this massive ankh on his chest (eh...you can’t see it in these pictures, but there’s a HUGE ankh just hanging around his neck) with earrings and pharaoh makeup. Pegasus is just that type of sheltered American. He’s like...well you look like someone from a movie so it must be legit. And that is how Pegasus decides to follow a guy who is clearly an ancient spooky wizard into an ancient death dungeon crypt.

I feel like Pegasus could have easily avoided this whole situation he got himself into.

Shadi has a whole speech about how the eyeball has a lot of power, and that he’s got to protect it all yada yada--but at the same time Shadi is like “BUT I gotta make sure some people use it so a lot of terrible things happen. You’d think I’d just...leave this stuff in this crypt so it’ll never be a problem and the world will never be cursed with terrible dark magic that was sealed away for thousands of years, but...I’m gonna make it happen anyway...and it’s not my fault...”

How many times has Shadi done this? It’s suggested that Pegasus is not the first.

It’s pretty gross, and while it’s done in shadow (which was a nice visual allusion to Shadow Magic), it’s still pretty gruesome for a kids show. To happen twice in one episode of this kid’s show, haha.

She calls him by his full name “Maxamillion” which made me realize he’s probably never shortened his name to “Max” in his entire life.

I’m glad Pegasus making out with a ghost happened on screen. This is now the most romance we’ve seen in all of Yugioh. Good.

So did Pegasus actually write the part where he made out with a vision, though?

I’m curious about how that process works. But, I don’t think we’ll ever find out.

Anyways, next time, on this very same episode of Yugioh:

Will Bakura stick this eyeball in he own eye or will he back out last minute and just hang it from his necklace and pretend it was there the whole time? Will Tea next read Pegasus’ food diary only to discover, in horror, that he drank upwards 60 liters of grape juice and far exceeded his daily calorie intake? Will security even realize these children have been snooping in all of Pegasus’ personal stuff for the past 30 minutes?

[pbandjesse]

I just got off of Skype call with Jess. We can actually talk much but it was nice being on Skype at the same time but we both play on our phones.

I’m tired and my allergies are bothering me but at this point I’m not actually sure if it’s not a cold that’s coming on. I have a stupid cough and my one ear is swollen. But today was still nice.

I slept alright last night and when I woke up around 8:30 is very cold in here so I turned on the heat and went back to bed for a little while. I got it for real at 9:30. Fed sweetp and got ready for the day. I felt very cute today. I put a lot of mousse in my hair last night and my hair looked really nice today. Just as I just have to learn what this hair likes and work with it not against it. I also didn’t wear any eyeliner today which always makes me a little self-conscious. But I’m trying to work harder on liking my own face even without wings. I did wear a very pretty eyeshadow though.

My plan was to go up to Lexington Market and then go have Crepes at the market place down the street. Half of that plan worked out. When I left the house it was a little warmer than I was expecting and I have wanted to go put my coat back but I’m glad I didn’t in the long run. I got chillier as the day went on. I walk to the 15 minutes up to the market on Lexington and it really was very similar to Reading Terminal. A little dirtier, and a few more of the shops were closed or out of business, but it was still very similar. I think I will definitely try to go there for grocery shopping soon. It was honestly just a little fun to walk around and people watched even if I didn’t buy anything.

There really is a highlight how segregated this part of the city you can be. I was one of the only white people there and it seems so strange when where I’m living just a few blocks so heavily White and none of them were over there. It’s interesting here how much the white population is afraid of places that they have no reason to be. Even the few people I’ve talked to hear have shared that those sentiments. Like Sabrina upstairs was excited to find out that I also take the bus because when she first moved here she went on a date with a guy who freaked out when he found out that she took the bus to go meet up with him. People act like they’re going to get killed doing very normal mundane things. There really hasn’t been a time where I felt unsafe here. It’s more an economic problem than an actual crime problem.

I left that Marketplace and walked up to my neighborhood to try to get crepes but the place wasn’t open yet so I sat outside. But then they’re opening time came, and I could see people inside, but the doors were locked. I tried all four sets of doors and they were all locked. And at this point I was just at hungry and angry. And honestly I was just very pissed off but was because I hadn’t eaten. And because I’m still not super super familiar with this area I didn’t have a backup plan. And I only had about an hour until I had to catch the bus to go to figure skating. So I’m texting Jess and I’m just very upset so I just started walking straight up Charles because I know there are places to eat there. And I ended up back at Cafe Fili. Which is the same place I took Chris when he came over.

I think it’s funny that sort of become my default little spot. I tried to get the French toast again but they didn’t have any today. It was for the best I didn’t have them as much time because I had to wandering around trying to find somewhere to eat. So the girl refunded my money and I got an apple turnover instead. It was very very good even though I’m pretty sure they is applesauce on the inside and not real apples.

I wouldn’t call the bus and class was really good. But we did start about 15 minutes late so I don’t have to worry about being late like I was on the bus was running really behind. They were testing today and saw all the girls were in costumes and makeup and there was some official they’re doing the actual test. It was really interesting to see. Seems really scary though.

I ended up talking to one of the women in my class who haven’t been there for a while. Her daughter is going to be applying to art schools for college and I got to give her a little bit of advice. And they told me about how they just went to profolio day. And it turned out her daughter was actually in the other class so I got to talk to her as well. She’s actually thinking of going to mcad. They told me that she’s undecided between sculpture and illustration and there’s nowhere to go for illustration because she’ll definitely get a job. That got a big laugh. I spoke to them for a while and then another girl came up and asked if I went to the same high school as the daughter of the woman in my class. That was really funny and everyone was like I should take it as a compliment. But everyone always thinks that I’m 16 I thought this haircut would help but apparently I was wrong!

When we finally did get on the ice it was nice to go really fast and be on my own skates again. But they definitely need to be sharpened. Next week is our last class until January so sometime in those weeks I will have to figure out where to get my skates done. Everyone in class goes to a guy named Joe we have to drop off the skates at his house and since I don’t have a car I don’t know how well that would work for me. I’ll figure it out I’m not that worried.

I had some trouble doing some of the combinations that our teacher Jeff had us do. But he’s really good about letting me just do parts of the combination since I get very confused about rights and lefts still. I did fall a few times but mostly stupid Falls where I just kind of collapsed onto the ground. And because I’m a good father in general I hit the ice very evenly and don’t hurt anywhere specific. I did work on my spinz today and they are getting pretty good both right and left which is nice. But I still can’t seem to bring my foot up into a one-foot spin. Which is where I need to be to not be the worst person in the class anymore.

It was fun though I worked on my Mohawks again and the horn out strong this week because we were doing them in a row or you switch back and forth and I get confused when switching feat. Jeff said that it was very sweet when I went from a mohawk and then I didn’t know how to put my foot down and I was yelling because I didn’t know what to do next and he was like just put your foot down I’m like but I can’t!

One of the women the class was nice enough to give me a ride down to the bus stops and she goes that direction anyway. And I made the bus that I would normally get if class has ended at 1:30 like it was supposed to. But since we were at 15 minutes later I thought it was going to have to wait. It’s nice that I’m starting to make connections there.

I didn’t go home right away I stopped over at the Amtrak station to ask about taking SweetP home. And the guy at the counter was very goofy and tried to make a joke about right answers cost a quarter and wrong answers cost $0.50 but he only had change for a dollar and I don’t exactly know and I was a little confused. But he was very nice. It’s going to cost about $25 and I had to fill out a form and he was unclear if he had the form or if it was online so I’m just going to try to figure out online. But I’m glad to know that it’s not going to be a big deal.

I thought I would have to catch another bus but instead I just walk down Charles and went to Chipotle for lunch. I had half of that and I’ll have the other half probably for breakfast tomorrow. And while I was on the bus going to figure skating we had passed a cute little bakery and I thought that if I saw it again I would stop. It was across the street from the Chipotle. So I got a couple cupcakes that I will probably have at work this week.

I stopped at CVS when I didn’t buy anything I just kind of looked around. I felt very tired and couldn’t focus. And then as I was walking back home I saw Sabrina on the street and she waved. She texted me once I got in the house that she was making 5 dozen cookies and I should come hang out with her. But I was so tired that I had to bail.

I didn’t sleep right away I unpacked everything and I played on my phone for a little while. But I did end up sleeping. I woke up around 5:30. I just kind of hanging bed for a bit but I did get up eventually go work at my studio for a little while. I Skype with Jess and now I’m really just going to go get ready for bed.

Tomorrow’s going to be really long and I’m glad I got as much rest as I did. I don’t know how well working that other job after figure skating is going to go, it really takes it out of me. So I’ll have to figure that out as we move forward. I’m looking forward to tomorrow though even if it’s going to be a little crazy. I have volunteering from 9:30 to 1:15 and then I have to catch a bus at 1:20 to get up to the painting place by 2:30. And depending I might have to walk about a mile. Which depending on the landscape is not that bad. But if it’s a lot of Hills will probably suck. It’s okay though it all work out. I think it’s still going to be a lot of fun.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Stay warm. Goodnight

[szopenhauer]

Do you have a Beatles shirt? why would I? Do you know anyone who is going through a hard time? ... me?... Do you stay up really late, or are you one of the first people asleep? stay up late

Do have any plans for this evening? nope How has this day been for you? sigh... Did you get to sleep in today? nope Is life at all what you expected it to be when you were a kid? pfft The last thing that made you angry? What about sad? no comment Do you think about the way things used to be often? mhm Is there anyone that you would like for things to be the same with? grandma for example What do you feel like right now? ugh... The last text message you recieved says? “Może coś pooglądam” When was the last time you totally freaked out? recently

What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? had sex

Did anyone close to you give birth this year? my ex friends

Did anyone close to you die? no one close

What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? health, money, peace or however to call this state

Did you suffer illness or injury? sadly

What was the best thing you bought? can’t decide

What song will always remind you of 2020? shitload

What do you wish you’d done more of? eat if possible

What do you wish you’d done less of? worry, spend time visiting doctors, paying for meds, suffering, waste of time and money <yadda, yadda, yadda> *wash hands - jk

What did you want and not get? medical help and job

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? nothing has changed

What kept you sane? internet (music, games, tumblr and such), my gf, dad, sleeping, shopping... 

What issue stirred you the most? mine or world problems?

would you ever watch a bullfight? I’m against bull fights would you ever travel to Greece? not interested what sound can you hear right now? sawing wood and washing machine

Do you remember what you wore yesterday? had my blue pants with daisies and SW tee with plaid sleeveles shirt over it What is your favorite kind of fabric? cotton and polyester? Would you consider your voice high, low, or in the middle? childish, weird

When did you first hear of Harry Potter? my elementary school bestie been obsessed with it

How many pictures do you take a month on average? *shrug* Are you the type people should take seriously, or should they think you’re joking most of the time? I’m often joking but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take me srsly at all, you know? What do you think of therapists? useless Do you have a bad temper? do I? What do you think about how around Halloween a lot of people harm black cats? that is a dumb excuse, not that anything gives you right to hurt cats in other situation than protecting yourself/someone from an attack Would you ever go to a sperm bank to get pregnant? creepy Do you have the same initials as anyone else you know? no one I know has initials like I do What do you think of people who use the saying, “Ignorance is bliss” in defense of something?  that’s true but we can’t be ignorant all the damn time  If a little kid walked up to you and asked, “Are you goth?”, how would you respond? awww thx but I’m not Does it annoy you when people say their heart is “broken”? only when they reffer to crush they never even spoken to once  Would you rather hang out with friends, hang out with one close friend, or be alone? be alone Would you know exactly how to help a person if they were choking on something? in theory, I’d try my best What are you listening to? Talor Swift - Love story Have you ever painted one of those “Paint By Numbers” things? several times

What color is your carpet? no carpet in my room

Do you have shower curtains? we don’t 

Do you think Oprah is lame? Ellen is

Do you play with dead bugs? *screams and runs away*

What was the last bug you killed? mosquito?

Do you flush trash down the toilet? that can clog the toilet so nope

How many country songs have you heard today? not a single one

How many yellow shoes do you own? 1 pair

Don’t you just love those ‘Axe’ commercials? they’re incredibly stupid and irritating

Did you know that the average human eats 8 total spiders in their sleep? I heard

If you had to switch races, what would you be? asian?

What is your favorite shade of blue? navy?

Have you ever thought about getting a mohawk? in middle school I had this idea for a moment :x

What’s your favorite extinct animal? mammoth, dodo, moa

What’s your favorite eating utensil? tiny forks are cute and wooden spoons are nostalgic

When was the last time your stomach growled in a quiet place? this or last month *awkward*

Have you ever rolled around in wet grass? not wet

Where was the last public bathroom you used located? KFC

Have you ever dipped a guy’s hand in warm water while they were sleeping? I’m not an asshole

Do you ever imagine random people in their underwear? whaaat?

Do you have any asian neighbors? our neighborhood ain’t diverse

Does your grandmother/grandfather use a walker? cane

Do you die without chewing gum?apparently not. I haven’t had gum in years and I’m still here.

Are you glad it’s summer? yasss How many calories would you say you take in a day? fuck off Have you ever pissed outside? more than once Ever not liked someone because of their race? I’m not a racist Are you pregnant? I an asexual lesbian and have period rn... Do you wanna be? no way in hell Do you share a bathroom? with fam Do you hate it? YES Describe your entire family in 3 words. mom, dad, sister Do you shower once daily? yep

Are you by any chance a perfectionist? slightly How would you react if your artwork became famous? wow

Would you turn people into stone if you could? waste of space, who would want to look at those statues?  Have you ever cooked a cake over a campfire? (I have, it worked ^_^) it’s possible?! good to know Are there any orange clocks in your house? why orange... Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand? ... left? When you take a drink of something, do you hold your pinky up? often  Which shoe do you put on first? whichever What will you eat next? rice or oatmeal? Name something that you have more than 28 of. problems  Do you like peas? why not Do you enjoy llamas? yup

[kujo1597]

Actually, That Was a Good Thing

Four years.

Four years since the last visit.

Four years since the fire.

Four years since college.

A lot happened in four years.

It’s about time Angel got to really catch up.

You can also read this on Archive of Our Own.

Chapter 14

Peridot practically skipped her way through the airport.

An impressive feat for one without two feet.

Her dad finally got enough time off work to pay a visit. The last visit was right after the fire so Peridot wasn’t in a good place.

But now she was!

She eagerly looked for her dad and when she finally saw him her whole face lit up as she waved at an average height Asian man wearing a large sweater-vest and glasses with short receding black hair. He grinned large and lopsidedly and waved back.

Peridot and Angel briskly walked up to each other and hugged very tightly.

“I’m so so glad to see you,” Angel didn’t want to let go; the last time they went this long without seeing each other Peridot nearly died.

“It’s really great to see you too,” Peridot didn’t want to let go either.

But they had to eventually, they were in the way.

“Stars,” Angel took Peridot in. “You look so good. And I see you’re still rocking the mohawk.”

Peridot giggled. “Yep, I stopped for a little bit in college but I actually ended up missing it.”

“And you got a new piercing, that’s cool.”

“Thanks. So, we should pick up your stuff then load up the car.”

“Alright,” Angel firmly patted Peridot’s upper right arm.

She flinched slightly. “Ouch.”

As if a switch got flipped Angel went into ‘protective dad mode.’ “What happened?”

This actually took Peridot by surprise. “Nothing. I just recently got a tattoo so I’m a bit tender there.”

Angel’s expression immediately lightened. “A tattoo, huh? What is it of?”

“Um, well...” Peridot lightly blushed, “some UFOs. The one piloted by Mars People in Metal Slug, a generic retro UFO, and Cosmos, the Transformer in vehicle mode.”

Angel chuckled warmly. “I should have known. You’re always loved space and UFOs.”

They talked some more while picking up Angel’s luggage. Catching up, and enjoying there not being a crisis going on and their conversation continued as Peridot drove Angel to her home.

Feeling some staring Peridot glanced at Angel. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, I can’t stop looking at you,” Angel said. “I just can’t get over how well you look. You’ve healed so nicely and I like how you’re doing your hair now.”

“You’re just saying that because I was bald the last time you saw me,” Peridot had intended that to be humourous, but her red cheeks betrayed her.

“No,” Angel said with a chuckle. “I just think it looks nice, it suits you.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence before Angel spoke up again.

“I’m excited to meet Amethyst and Lapis.”

“And I’m excited for you to finally meet them,” Peridot grinned brightly. “Lapis has been doing very well lately so now’s a great time. And Amethyst has been so wonderful. Well, the only time she hasn’t been was after our fight.”

“Has it actually only been the one?” Angel was skeptical.

“Well, we have tiffles here and there, but every couple does; especially after dating for as long as we have.” 

“But it’s mostly just small stuff, right?” Once again, Angel got protective.

“Yeah, just small stuff,” Peridot looked her dad in the eyes. “Don’t worry so much. I know what to look out for.”

“It’s not that simple, Peridot.”

“I know. I have a good network of support too so if, and this is a big if, Amethyst does end up being like that I should be able to get out of it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Angel sighed. “Ever since Jaune I worry constantly. I know I should trust your judgement.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s understandable. And I’m sure that after you meet Amethyst you’ll stop worrying.”

Angel thought, “Jaune didn’t set off any warning bells with me.” He instead said, “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll put my mind to rest.”

Another silence.

“Is Lapis still dumping all of her problems on you?” Angel spoke firmly. “You said she’s doing well but I still worry.”

“Nah, seeing a psychiatrist helped cut down on that. And I’m being more firm and not dropping everything to be there for her.” Peridot laughed. “It’s actually kind of hard for me sometimes. But it’s better for the both of us.”

Angel nodded approvingly.

He was proud of his daughter for managing to build healthier relationships.

Maybe one day he could too...

Peridot pulled into the driveway and smiled when she saw Max looking out the window. She made sure to point him out to her dad.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Peridot cooed.

“Yes, he is,” Angel said, amused.

The door opened and Lapis came out. Angel took a look at her. Her blue hair, myriad of piercings (the most recent being snake bite piercings), and her water witch half-sleeve tattoo.

As okay as he is with Peridot’s body mods Angel can’t help feeling a bit iffy about people with a ton of piercings.

He offered his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Angel.”

“Lapis,” she shook his hand. “But you already knew that.” She noticed Peridot pulling luggage out of the trunk. “Peridot! Wait a sec so I can help you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Peridot called from the car.

Lapis quickly walked up to Peridot with Angel following.

“Seriously, you know you’re supposed to ask for help,” Lapis scolded Peridot.

“Not all the time,” Peridot’s annoyance was clear. “We also need to work on our codependency issues.”

“Codependency issues...” Lapis rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s a problem. But so’s your being a control freak.”

Angel unloaded some of his luggage as Lapis and Peridot argued.

“Oh dad,” Peridot turned her attention away from Lapis. “Sorry, we’re trying to talk more and I got wrapped up in it.”

It didn’t quite sound like a conversation to Angel but Peridot and Lapis seem fine so he left it alone.

“It’ll be easier if the three of us brought my luggage in,” Angel said; he saw Peridot about to protest. “Guests can help out too dear.”

Lapis snickered. “Dear?” Peridot looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “It’s just funny. You look like a punk and your dad still calls you ‘dear.’”

“Ha,” Peridot barked a laugh. “Look who’s talking.”

They continued their usual light-hearted back-and-forth as they carried Angel’s luggage into the house.

After he got settled in Peridot office-slash-guest room Angel joined Lapis and Peridot in the living room.

Max ran up to him wagging his tail like crazy.

“Stars, what an excited pup,” Angel had a huge goofy grin on his face as he tried to pet the wiggly little furball. “Yes, hello. I know, I’m new.”

The parent and child both giggled. Lapis looked between the two a bit puzzled by the lack of a resemblance.

After the excitement was over Peridot left to make tea. Angel turned to Lapis.

“Thank you for giving Peridot a home.”

“Whatever, I needed a roommate,” Lapis brushed it off.

But Angel didn’t buy it. “Even so, I am grateful.”

“She’s a good person,” in a rare moment of sincerity Lapis added, “I appreciate her. She’s really helped me out.”

“And I think in some weird way you’ve helped her too.”

“It’s literally the least I could do.”

In that moment they felt a sense of comradery.

Angel didn’t really get how, but he knew their odd bickering was actually a good thing.

The next evening Peridot was fixing her hair in the mirror. Her, Angel, and Amethyst were going to have a nice dinner together.

“Want help?” Lapis offered.

“Yes, please.”

“I don’t get why you fuss over your hair when you’re just going out with your dad and Amethyst,” Lapis half-heartedly complained while playing around with Peridot’s hair.

“I just like to look nice when I eat out and have no idea what to do with it,” Peridot replied. “I actually don’t know whether or not to leave my industrial in either.”

“Well,” Lapis started working a comb through Peridot’s locks, “I always leave all my piercings in. But I also don’t give a shit.”

“True,” Peridot gave it some thought. “Yeah, I think I’ll leave it in. Give my outfit a bit of a casual touch.”

“Do you want your bald spot covered or exposed? I’m combing your hair to one side.”

“Exposed.”

“Alright,” Lapis put product into Peridot’s hair then started up the hairdryer. “I’m giving it some height too. Y’know to ‘balance out your long face.’”

Peridot hissed in pain. “Watch the heat.”

“Oops,” Lapis repositioned the dryer. “Forgot about that.”

After a few minutes of working on Peridot’s hair, combing it over, adding volume, curling the bottom forward a bit, and fluffing the back out, Lapis was done.

“This looks really nice,” Peridot inspected her new ‘do. “Thank you.”

“No prob,” Lapis ran her fingers over the large burn on Peridot’s head. “Have I ever told you it’s awesome how you don’t cover this thing up? Most people would.”

“I’ve actually grown to like it,” Peridot fixed a couple out of place hairs. “It’s hard to imagine myself without it.”

“Yeah, even after seeing old photos of you I just can’t imagine you looking any other way.”

Peridot looked in the mirror some more. “I’m debating wearing those star plugs Amethyst got me.”

Angel happened to be walking by. “I know it’d make me happy to see my girlfriend wearing the earrings I got her.” He smiled warmly. “You’re looking very handsome by the way.”

“Thanks,” Peridot played with the untucked part of her light green dress shirt. “You look nice too.”

Angel was just wearing a simple powder-blue dress shirt, dark green tie, and black dress pants. “Thank you.”

“You’re right too, I should wear the jewelry Amethyst got me,” Peridot fixed her black waistcoat and rolled her sleeves up then put her plugs in. “I don’t wear these often enough.”

“They look nice. So, you ready to head out?”

“Yep,” Peridot replied with a smile. She turned to Lapis. “Don’t forget to eat, and don’t forget to feed Max.”

“Okay, I got it,” Lapis said as she walked Peridot to the door. “Don’t worry so much; you leave us alone all the time.”

“I know but-”

It was at this point Lapis pushed Peridot out of the door. “Just have fun. And yes, I will call if anything happens.” She shoved Peridot’s cane into her hands.

“Alright, bye Lapis,” Peridot waved. “And bye Max, love you, bye.”

“Bye mo~m,” Lapis dragged out the ‘mom’ then closed the door.

This made Peridot splutter.

“Honestly,” she huffed.

Angel couldn’t hide his amusement.

Peridot took the wheel and off they went.

As they were walking towards the restaurant Peridot spotted the unmistakable sight of Amethyst in her usual nice purple sweater and slacks. She quickly ran up to catch her.

“Hey Peri,” Amethyst said. “You’re looking handsome. Love your hair, and the bowtie’s a really nice touch.”

“Thank you. And you’re gorgeous as always.”

The two hugged then kissed.

Angel had seen this exchange and the tender kiss between Peridot and Amethyst helped put his mind to ease.

He finally caught up with them. “I’m glad to meet you, I’m Angel.”

“Amethyst,” she shook his hand. “So uh, I didn’t expect a Spanish name, that’s really cool.”

“Oh,” It’s been a while since Angel was last asked about his name, he softly laughed. “My mother’s from the Philippines and even back then Tagalog names were considered old fashioned.” His laughter turned hearty as he patted Peridot on the shoulder. “Peridot definitely got her progressiveness from her grandma.”

Peridot giggled. “Dad.”

And now Amethyst better understood what Peridot meant when she called her dad embarrassing.

“You guys ready to head in?” Amethyst asked.

They walked and talked together.

“So Amethyst, how’s work?” Angel asked, a pretty standard subject.

“Same old, same old. Waiting tables doesn’t really change and I haven’t even had any funny customers yet. Tourist season is when those start showing up.” Amethyst didn’t miss a beat. “How ‘bout you?”

“Busy as always,” Angel replied. “My team’s about to make a breakthrough so we’re working around the clock.” His chuckle lacked amusement. “Kind of ironic how unhealthy a bunch of people in a medical field are.”

“So, wha’d’ya do?” Amethyst asked, intrigued.

“Peridot’s never said?” There was mild surprise in Angel’s voice. “I help develop advanced prosthetics.” He blushed. “I’ve always wanted to use my love of technology to help people and Peridot, inspired me.”

 Amethyst couldn’t help glancing at Peridot whose prosthetic foot is as basic as they get.

As if she read Amethyst’s mind, Peridot responded. “My foot’s so simple because it’s cheap, and anyway, dad’s team is prioritizing arms and hands. It’s easier to live without a foot than it is to live without a hand.”

“Yeah,” Angel said with a sigh. “It’ll be a while before I can get something better for my daughter.”

“It’s okay,” Peridot reassured her dad. “I’m fine with what I have. It works. So focus on making better hands for those who need them.”

With a small feeling of guilt, Angel recovered. “You right. Sorry, for killing the mood.”

“Nah nah, don’t sweat it,” Amethyst smiled at Angel. “You’re doing good work. That was really cool to find out.”

Amethyst leaned on Peridot who giggled. “You know I’m not good at conversing.”

“You’re good at ‘conversing,’ just not great,” Amethyst stuck out her tongue.

As their exchange continued Angel signed in with the host.

It took a while for their waitress to lead them to their table.

“So where are you from, Amethyst?” Angel asked after everybody placed their drink orders.

“Kansas City,” Amethyst replied.

“Huh, moving to tiny little Beach City must’ve been quite the adjustment.”

“Um,” Amethyst looked away for a split second, “yeah. But hah, uh, I was happy to just have a roof over my head.” She cleared her throat. “Bein’ homeless for a couple years does that to ya.” Regret started to bubble up. “But hey, weren’t for that I wouldn’t have met Peri or made most of my friends or have Steven, so you know. It worked out.”

“Oh right, I think Peridot mentioned that. It’s how you met Pearl, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, her and Rose were going back to their hotel after watching a musical and I,” a quick glance down, “bumped into Pearl. She got all huffy. But Rose took one look at me and knew what was going on. She brought me back with them.”

The waitress took their food orders.

“Where was I?” Amethyst rapped her fingers on the table. “Right. Rose was gorgeous and had this air about her that made you wanna follow her.” Amethyst looked at Peridot. “You woulda loved her.”

“From what you’ve told me I’m sure.”

The couple smiled at each other.

“Excuse me,” Angel interrupted the moment. “I need to use the washroom.”

Peridot got up and Angel shuffled past her. After Peridot sat back down Amethyst spoke.

“Bullshit you look nothing like your dad.”

The sudden exclamation startled Peridot. “N...no, I don’t. His features are way rounder than mine, our eye colours are completely different, and he’s not even short.”

“That’s superficial shit, You two look so much alike! For one thing, you sure as hell didn’t get your cuteness from Jaune. Your dad’s adorable!” Peridot looked very puzzled by this statement. “Don’t judge me Per. You know I like dorks.” Amethyst raised her hand. “Anyway, not just that either. You two have the same smile.”

“We... do?”

“You didn’t notice?”

“No! Nobody’s told me that before either,” Peridot looked happy. “I never knew that.”

“Wow,” Amethyst didn’t really know what to say. After some thought she figured it out. “It’s really obvious. How’d nobody point it out before?”

Peridot wiped her eye.

“Hey, you alright?”

“It’s so silly, such a small thing moved me to tears.”

“Nah,” Amethyst held Peridot’s hands, “all your life you had no idea you looked like the parent you love. Just the awful one.”

Angel returned as Peridot was still tearing up and shot Amethyst a look that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Hey Angel, before you sit why don’t we have a private chat?” She had a feeling what that look was about. Her partner, his daughter, who was abused by her mother is in tears after he left.

“You two can’t leave,” Peridot protested. “Supper will get cold.”

“We won’t be long,” Amethyst put a reassuring hand on Peridot’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ll be back before you know it,” Angel echoed Amethyst.

“Hey,” Amethyst spoke softly as her and Angel stood outside the restaurant door. “I get why you’re so worried about Peri ending up with somebody like your ex-wife.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I ain’t good at serious-talk but I’m gonna try.” She made eye-contact with Angel, “I promise ya, I love Peri, I ain’t gonna lay a finger on her, I ain’t gonna hurt her in any way. What Jaune did to her was horrible, terrible, and god,” Amethyst couldn’t maintain her composure, “I wish I punched that cunt when I had the chance.”

Angel’s eyebrows rose then he started to chortle. “You’re right, you’re not good at ‘serious-talk.’ But you know, how inarticulate you were made that speech far more believable. I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

He looked Amethyst in the eye. “It’s literally impossible to never hurt someone. I know that and you know that. Your sincerity when you said that came through. So I trust you with my daughter. I believe that you will take good care of her. There’s something between you two that me and Jaune never had.”

His expression turned serious. “And you’re wrong. I’m not worried that Peridot will end up with somebody like Jaune. I’m terrified. I didn’t see any of the warning signs. They’re not always obvious.”

“Out of curiosity, and you don’t gotta answer this if you don’t wanna,” Amethyst looked at her feet. “How did you end up with that piece of shit?”

“Hah,” Angel couldn’t hold in his bitterness. “It wasn’t an arranged marriage by any means, but my father ‘strongly suggested’ that I marry her. He owns a large company and Jaune had hers, even back then. He was hoping that his son marrying her would open some doors.”

“Peri mentioned Jaune moving to Calgary was a business decision.”

“Yeah, marrying me was it,” Angel pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was such a loveless relationship but I couldn’t say ‘no’ to my father.” He cleared his throat. “But Peridot was born because of it and I wouldn’t trade her for the world. My only regret is not divorcing Jaune before the damage was done.”

“There’s no point in regret,” Amethyst’s blunt statement took Angel by surprise. “It already happened and what happened because that happened did too. No telling how things turn out if stuff happened differently. It’s why I’ll never dick around with time travel.”

Angel started to chuckle and Amethyst joined him. “Yeah, you’re right. Regret does sound pretty pointless when you put it like that. But I can’t help feeling it.”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s like, how you’re wired. I just try not to sweat it, y’know.”

To fill the dead air Amethyst decided to bring up a new happier subject.

“I told Peri to keep it secret so you probably don’t know this. I wrestle pretty much every Saturday.”

“Really?” Angel’s eyes lit up. “Stars. I watched wrestling all the time as a child.”

“Ah! Seriously?!” Amethyst grinned. “Dude! Me too!”

“I watched some American pro wrestling when I first moved to Canada and that was fun. But if you can you should really check out Japanese pro wrestling. It’s very intense and physical with full contact. They even have medics at ringside.”

“Seriously? Man, but not as much theatrics though, right? See, I like heels and for me, the stories and stunts are the main draw.”

“We have theatrics too, but not as much and the stories are more focused around the strength of man.”

Their animated conversation about wrestling continued until they got back to the table. And sure enough, the food was there.

Peridot was annoyed but that dissipated when she saw how well her dad and girlfriend were getting along.

The rest of supper was very laid-back.

The next evening Amethyst came over to Lapis and Peridot’ for supper. As Angel helped with the dishes he heard Amethyst and Peridot talking in the next room.

“Man, I can’t get over that poncit palabok,” Amethyst sounded full and satisfied; making Angel feel proud. “You told me your dad taught you how to cook and now i really believe it.”

Peridot giggled and Angel heard the familiar sound of her resting her prosthetic foot against the side table. “Yeah, he’s a really good cook. I’m nowhere near as good at cooking Filipino food as he is.” A happy sigh. “It’s been so many years since I’ve had it.”

As Peridot and Amethyst talked Peridot’s voice got higher. Angel finished with the dishes and was just about to go into the living room when Lapis stopped him.

“Wait, when Peridot’s voice gets like that, her and Amethyst are about to get super mushy.”

“Uh, okay?”

Apparently Lapis knew Peridot very well, Peridot spoke again, sounding a touch bashful, “Um, heh, I have something to show you.”

“Oh really?” Amethyst seemed interested but also casual. “You just took your foot off and gotta be honest Peri; if I carried you right now you’d be covered in barf. I’m too full.”

Peridot found this statement amusing apparently. “Don’t worry, I can show you on the couch.” There was a shuffle then

“Yyyoooooooo!”

a very enthusiastic response from Amethyst.

“You got a tattoo! It’s so cool,” Amethyst got quiet for a moment then chuckled. “Is that Cosmos?”

“It is! I also have Mars People in my tattoo.”

Some more chuckling. “So much for ‘nerdy yet understated.’”

Then Peridot laughed. “Yeah, I did go all-out with the nerdiness. But it was worth it; I’m really happy with it.”

“You should be, it looks awesome! I’m so jealous!”

“I’m surprised I ended up getting a tattoo before you did.”

Amethyst groaned. “I’m having a hard time finding a place. You’re lucky you’re pale. If I want a colour tattoo then I need to see somebody who has experience working with darker skin. I found a couple people but they didn’t do the style I want.”

“Hm, well, I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

The couch creaked. “You’re right. Just gotta keep looking. You should tell me where you got your ink, maybe they can do mine. The style of yours is so freaking rad.”

“Alright, I have it written down. The address is in my office.”

Once again, Lapis stopped Angel.

“Not yet,” they heard Peridot shuffle and giggle. “That means they’re about to be super gay and embarrassing.” 

After a few minutes Lapis let Angel into the living room and the girlfriends were cuddled on the couch.

“Oh, dad,” Peridot’s cheeks were a bit red. She glanced at Amethyst.

“Don’t worry, keep cuddling; it’s not bothering me,” Angel waved his hand.

“So Angel,” Amethyst wasn’t shy in the slightest, “what time do you leave tomorrow?”

“Around six,” Angel replied.

“Gross,” Amethyst was obviously not thrilled. “I might not be seeing you off then.”

“Oh, you’re staying the night?” Angel briefly wondered if there was another guest room. Then he remembered that his daughter was an adult. And he had a flash of shyness. 

Of course, they’ll be sharing a bed.

“Is something the matter?” Peridot’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just sometimes forget how old you are,” Angel laughed.

A blush made its way across Peridot’s whole face, she buried it in Amethyst’s hair. The luscious mane shook as Amethyst couldn’t hold in her chortles.

The rest of the night went well; Peridot eventually got over her embarrassment, Amethyst and Angel talked more about wrestling, and Lapis drew.

Peridot let out a breath as her and her dad stood in the airport.

“Well, this is it.”

She really didn’t want to say her goodbyes. Three days wasn’t a long enough visit.

“Yeah, this is it,” Angel felt the same way.

There was a long stretch of silence.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t meet the rest of my friends,” Peridot said awkwardly, her heart ached.

“Heh,” Angel smiled.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just so glad to hear you say that,” he gently hugged Peridot. “You’ve never had a group of friends before. I’m proud of you.”

Peridot returned the hug a bit tighter. “Thank you.”

“Oh Peridot, we’ll see each other again. I promise.”

“I know, but I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. I’ll try to visit more often.”

“I should try to come out there sometime.”

“And maybe bring Amethyst.”

Peridot broke the hug to look at Angel. “You’d like me to do that?”

“Well, yeah, I like Amethyst and she might want to see where you grew up. Imagine the stories you can tell her.”

Angel knew how Peridot ticked, she’s always loved telling stories.

Sure enough, Peridot’s eyes lit up. “You’re right. I’ve told her a few things but she doesn’t know the places.”

“Exactly.”

The boarding message played. Father and daughter both clicked their tongues.

One last hug and Angel was off.

“Bye, love you,” he waved as he headed towards the gate.

“Bye, love you too,” Peridot waved back, choked up.

But she knew she’d see her dad again.

And it’s not like they don’t talk every week.

[realsamcalloway]

2/22/17 - Interview With Musician Brody Dalle “Style Evolution From AUS to The USA” (www.regardingstyle.com)

Originally posted February 22, 2017 and appearing on www.regardingstyle.com.

© 2017 TRSB (Sam Bone)

A Conversation with Brody Dalle, Regarding Style (And More)

By Sam Bone

The indie/punk rock/alternative music scene has been a desolate, lonely lull since 2014. It’s been nearly three whole years since fans of Brody Dalle’s haunting-yet-dangerous growl and lyrical prowess have heard anything new. If you’re a genuine fan of Brody’s (which I have no shame in admitting that I adore her immensely and forever!), then you’re probably one of the 300,000+ people who follow or “Like” her social media posts. It is from within this social media sphere, where fans grasp onto every tweet, photo and post in general, in hopes of a tour announcement or a Beyoncé-inspired surprise album drop.

This question has been an ongoing one for Brody Dalle since she and her (former) band of misfits, The Distillers, hit the punk scene in the late 90’s/beginning of 2000. The Distillers self-titled album was single-handedly the anthem record equivalent of ammunition of that time, and every record Brody has since released has only added as kindling to that raging fire. Back then during the “debut era,” fans of Dalle were in high school (or just out) and most of those fans have grown up right alongside with her. It didn’t matter what was happening, either.

Fans of Brody Dalle don’t “mess” around, and have stayed with her through it all, the good times and the bad. #Punx4Ever, right?

Since the debut in 2000, Brody released two more records under The Distillers moniker, Sing Sing Death House (2002), and Coral Fang (2003), followed by her Spinnerette project which saw the release of an album with the same name in 2009. Most recently, die-hard fans rejoiced when Brody flew solo with the powerful and equally as memorable Diploid Love (2014).

In January of this year the stage was set for me to interview Brody and in an attempt to tackle something she has never spoken about publically; her personal style and fashion sense. I know I’ve always been pretty curious about this subject, so I’m willing to bet that other fans share my feels.

Being a badass punk poster girl, plastered on the walls of both guys and gals the world over (her fans expand across both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans), Brody Dalle’s sense of style has a direct correlation to ethical fashion in that punk style requires a love of thrift store shopping. Tattered and torn hand-me-downs are always in high demand no matter what rock subgenre you identify.

Without further ado, here is our 2017 conversation with Brody Dalle, Regarding Style.

 Hey there, Brody! I’d like to start off slightly unconventional by asking what’s got you angry lately?

The insanity right now-- the attitude and the words that come out of the Orange-Faced thing. Pence. Speaker Ryan and Bannon. He's terrifying and completely delusional and represents the Christian alt-right. Fuck all of them; their gross incompetence and their being unqualified, arrogant fucks. The lying, the misogyny, the racism, the homophobia and the unfairness of it all. The (Russian) hacking. The lack of people being held accountable. It's disgusting, embarrassing and horrifying. The hypocrisy of banning Muslims from entering the United States when this country was founded on freedom of religious beliefs.

It's baffling really. By the way, it’s only been a week.

I don’t want to get too into that here, because it’d be unending, but I will just say three words: I feel you. How are you, otherwise? How is your family? Congratulations on the birth of your newest son, Wolf!

Thank you so much! My family is wonderful! My son Wolf is a sunbeam rainbow baby, sweetest little munchkin ever. As far as myself, I'm doing better-- Going from 2 to 3 kids was a massive adjustment. Wolf is about to be one, and it's taken me about a year to get back on my feet. It's been a bit wobbly trying to balance the kids with no sleep, having to breastfeed, and issues with my health (rheumatic fever with chronic pain). Also balancing my husband’s schedule, kids school schedule, and then our family… friends… just our lives, in general… all while trying to balance my own personal life and get back to creating. Just started in the studio a couple of days a week.

How do we do it all though?! I asked my mum if life has gotten crazier and she said yes… life used to be much simpler, slower, and we didn't always have to be “on” and available.

I feel as though technology has much to do with society’s rapid pace, also that “rat race” you once spoke of is real. The struggle is real. Since the Distillers all the way through now, your style has influenced a lot of people, both girls and guys. Where did your sense of style develop? What are your earliest memories?

I guess it all started with the punks in Melbourne. I made a book for my mum when I was about 6 years old; it was of punks walking down the street whistling and girls doing handstands. I asked her why she thought I drew punks in the book with the mohawks and she had no idea, but suggested maybe I'd seen them on the street. Perhaps it was a prophecy ha!

I was in a movie about teenage delinquents called "Hard Knocks" when I was a baby, but I doubt I would have remembered it as I was 8 months old at the time. Right after that I went to see Cyndi Lauper at the Tennis Center, and Madonna was all over the TV and in the magazines-- I remember spending every waking hour putting those records on and dancing for hours in the living room with a black beauty mark drawn above my lip with my mum’s eyeliner.

My mum collected Vogue magazine, and I remember perusing though the 80’s ones and noticing all of the different angles, the neon colors and all of the multicolored make up. I sewed a pair of pants at my grandmother’s house once, but when I put them on they fell apart and I was discouraged with fashion after that.

I remember wanting certain things, the first thing I ever wanted, as far as fashion, was a purple feather in my hair for school photos when I was 5 years old. After that, it was a pale pink pair of sneakers at the tennis shop my dad would go to on the weekends… I begged him for months to buy them for me, and finally he acquiesced.

My first pair of Chuck Taylors were red and I got them when I was 8. My parents didn't have much money, so we shopped at Target for clothing which was the equivalent of Cole’s today, which I'm sure is way cooler than Target was back then. But it was mortifying, and I was teased mercilessly. Doc Martins were all the rage but they cost about $100 which, of course, my parents laughed at. So I ended up getting fake Docs… a mean girl at school made me lift up the bottom of my Docs and then ridiculed and teased me in front of the other mean girls, and well, that was that.

My Uncle Frazer gave me my first guitar and also my first surfboard; a Strapper Thruster with a giant red sun on it. I went through a surfer girl phase and got an undercut and wore giant rusty t-shirts and surfer boots and brands. I longed to be a pro surfer but there are no waves in Melbourne, the best waves were at least an hour away. Plus, I was pale as a ghost and I looked nothing like the tanned bleached blonde beach girls. I gave up surfing after being tossed around like a rag doll in 20 foot waves in Coffs Harbour, I thought “This really isn’t for me anymore" as I did full cartwheels underwater for a minute at a time.

One of the first records I ever bought was Mothers Milk by RHCP. When I was 12 and on my way to Vaucluse Catholic Girls college in Richmond, the RHCP got on our tram. They walked right up to me and talked with me for 5 minutes before getting off a few stops later… so weird to think about that, cut to The Distillers opening for them in German stadiums 12 years later. They actually remembered our encounter. Fucking weird mate.

I hated everyone and everything after that-- I got into Nirvana, Hole, Mudhoney, and Sonic Youth, and then I started going to All-Ages shows in

Melbourne. The bands I loved the most were The Meanies, Tumbleweed and the Hard-Ons.

Then, flares and ripped band t-shirts were the fash. Eventually I started working at Friends of the Earth when I was a 12-year-old hippy/anarchist. That was a Co-op that my parents shopped at. I bought my first item of clothing with the money I had earned; vintage orange and brown flares, which I wore to death to every Tumbleweed and Meanies All-Ages shows I ever attended in Melbourne.

Then it evolved to Dead Kennedys and Kyuss t-shirts. That's right, Kyuss... they were my favorite band. I also wore Levi's jeans, one pair at a time until there was NOTHING left!

After that, thanks to Courtney Love, it was 1940's tea dresses, nighties, and ripped fishnets worn with shitty, op-shop high heels and Chuck Taylors.

After that, I got into Discharge, The Exploited, Cock Sparrer, Oi Polloi and Last Resort. I got beat up by two street girls in the city wearing Bon Jovi t-shirts, and they fractured my arm... I was so pissed I shaved my head the next day into a Chelsea haircut and I dyed it blue. Also by now I could afford to buy real vintage stuff with the money I made from my jobs, and I also bought my own Docs and any op-shop find, especially plaid mini-skirts.

So my look was Courtney Love meets Skinhead. A lot of tops had to have the “Courtney Love white collar.” Then when I was 17 years old I saw “Betty Blue” (the film), and that changed everything-- I wanted black hair in a choppy bob. Black hair became my favorite thing! I got into do wop music and started cleaning up my look; black hair, up in a high ponytail with long side burns and big hoop earrings, Revlon Color Stay in Berry Red, black liquid eyeliner and Creepers-- plaid Creepers. Mini-skirts. Bomber jackets.

By this point I was in L.A., so I was being influenced by so much in Los Angeles and also New York, mainly trash and vaudeville. I was hanging around a lot of older, cooler punk chicks. My friend Tomomi made mohair sweaters.

I started cutting up my t-shirts after I'd seen a girl on the street with her t-shirt cut into tassels-- I didn't know that was an option and it changed the game. I became obsessed with, wore and collected Polly of California heels. I also discovered trashy lingerie and agent provocateur. I admired Vivienne Westwood. My friend Evelyn had a shoe store called Diavolina and I became obsessed with shoes.

I met Agatha Blois, who made most of my pants that I wore on stage… another game changer. Rosalyn Mazzola (“Casper Rose,” for you diehards out there) had these naturally occurring dark circles under her eyes and I loved the way it looked so I recreated it by using MAC's color 'texture', which is still my favorite for smoky eyes.

Right before we made Sing Sing Death House I met Rosalyn, and I fell in love. She was so beautiful and androgynous-looking, like jaw-dropping beautiful… I felt so ugly next to her. God I loved her so much. We kind of morphed into each other for a while although her thing was more gutter than mine. We dressed like dirty squatter boys and put our eyebrows on with black sharpie, it lasted for a week sometimes longer. I look back at old photos of us and think we looked pretty scummy but we weren’t, I swear!  I’m a very hygienic person, my favorite smell back then was this raspberry body spray that smelt more like cotton candy. They stopped making it of course, they stop making everything that’s awesome. I had my managers hunt down the last box in America. I wear mostly vanilla these days. The way you smell, your scent, is as important and memorable as your clothes. 

I will add this- my style icons in the past have been Kurt Cobain, Courtney Love, Lydia Lunch, the Misfits, Beatrice Dalle in “Betty Blue,” Discharge, The Exploited, Sex Pistols, DEBBIE HARRY ❤️, Vivienne Westwood, Oi, Agatha Blois, other punk girls.

Thank you for sharing all of those memories. I remember first hearing The Distillers on a sampler… I think it was one of those oi, garage punk compilations. Anyway, it had the rough cut of LA Girl on it, from the Oldscratch EP. It was of course this audio that lead me to visual curiosity so I checked out the band, and I remember the days of Rose and recall that she was very street punk, which obviously appealed to me. Moving on, do you have a vault of super-secret punk rock DIY designers that custom-make your garments? Who/what are some brands and designers that you respect?

Ha! I used to when I was touring more! I'm not much of a “fashionista.” I'm lucky to know and have some very talented friends who happen to be incredible clothing makers and designers. I'm not really too into brand names per se, it's more that I know what I like when I see it, or I’ll get inspired by something old and remake it. I did have a love for Vivienne Westwood, in fact my look in The Distillers was really a mash-up of Vivienne Westwood, Agatha Blois, t-shirts scoured from Goodwill, "wife beaters" from Target, Polly of California, trashy lingerie, vintage coats, various jeans, Submission, Very Bad Horse, spray-painted hooker boots from Hollywood Blvd, Agent Provocateur, very sick and cool shit from Japan and my old friend Tomomi (Fukuda) has a store called Camden Lock. I love Agatha Blois as a friend, and her designs had a big impact on me, she and I worked really well together. Ligia Morris made a badass jumpsuit and some stage clothes for Reading and Leeds festivals in 2004. Corey Parks makes the meanest leather jackets and pants ever. I love Hedy Slimanes, and obviously his influence made that company (Yves Saint Laurent, YSL) what it is today. Punk is Hedy's staple diet I think, not sure where YSL is headed now.

When it comes down to it, it's not the label, it's what I like in the moment.

That’s great, and it’s also very cool that a lot of those more indie-back-then designers have really sort of exploded in the sense that they are doing their thing with their boutiques and brands. I know you’re busy, thanks so much for your time. Lastly, what can fans expect from you next?

I’m slowly coming out of the 1-year baby fog of losing myself completely. It’s a scary process to unravel but I usually get songs out of it. My plan is to write two records which I’ve just started.

I know fans will love this news! Again thank you so much, nothing but the purest wishes for both you and your family!

You can stay up to date with Brody oh her Twitter and Instagram profiles.

Certain elements, such as links and photos, may have been removed from the original version of the above article.

[splinteredworld]

Homes Don’t Have to Be Perfect Chapter 9

Keith spent the whole day before their date smiling. Coran grinned and twirled his mustache when Keith arrived at work. Keith huffed him off as he hide in his assigned room. When Lance came, he grinned at Keith and handed over Pike. Keith felt a bright blush form on his cheeks as Lance winked at him.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Keith felt his mouth fall open as Lance strutted away. Pike looked up at Keith and tapped his face. Looking down, he groaned softly as he began to walk to the next room.

“You’re dad is something else.” He whispered as he sat Pike down.

Leaning against the wall, Keith let his shoulders fall. For some reason, the kids seemed to be extra hyper today. With his eyes closed, Keith began to think about his date tonight. Two years ago, he would never even let the thought of dating Lance pass his mind, but now, it filled his every thought, both awake and asleep. Keith felt the tension leave his body as he pictured the previously mentioned man. In his mind, he could see Lance’s clear blue eyes, his light coffee toned skin, and his bright smile that reached up to meet his eyes and was the cause of the small laugh lines that had formed on his cheeks. As Keith traced the endless amount of freckles on Lance’s face, a loud kerfuffle drew his attention back to the present. He opened his eyes to see Darrell, a four year old who had a slight form of autism, yelling at Pike. Keith jumped to his feet and quickly rushed over to them.

“What’s wrong, Darrell?” He asked softly. Darrell looked up at him and huffed.

“I wanna play with the trucks too.” He crossed his little arms and turned back to Pike. “But he won’t share.” Keith redirected Darrell’s attention back to him.

“He would like to share, but you have to ask him in a special way, Darrell.” He sat down and pulled Darrell into his lap. “You see Pike is deaf. That mean’s his ears don’t work. He can’t hear anything.” He picked up Darrell’s hands and started to move them. “He uses a special language called Sign Language to talk to people. Sign Language is said with hands instead of words.” He tapped Pike gently on the cheek. “Here, we will sign ‘share’ so Pike knows you want to play with him.” With Keith’s help, Darrell signed ‘share’ by placing one open hand perpendicular to their bodies and then moving their other open hand back and forth over the pointer finger, as if dividing something into two piles.. It took a moment for Pike to recognize the sign, but when he did, he held out on the trucks. Darrell smiled as he slid off of Keith’s lap and started to play with Pike.

Coran knocked on the door and stepped in, nodding out to the office.

“Phone for you.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows as he nodded and left the room. Picking up the phone, Keith held it to his ear a moment before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Keith!” Lance’s loud voice echoed over the line. Keith held the phone away from his ear for a moment before he finally answered.

“What is it Lance?” Keith turned to seat on the desk after looking to make sure Coran wouldn’t see.

“Allura had this idea, but I didn’t think you would like it. I told her so, but she’s scary. So, now I’m calling ‘cause she is still glaring at me.”

“What’s the idea, Lance?” He interrupted as he placed his head in his hands.

“She wants to do a family type photo shoot.”

“Okay. And that has something to do with me because?”

“A family as in you, Pike, and me.” Keith felt the blush from earlier return as he gasped slightly. “It’s completely fine if you don’t want to. I fully understand if we are overstepping-” “I’ll do it.” Keith mumbled as he started to fiddle with his hair,

“What?” Lance squeaked out,

“I said I’ll do it. I’m sure I owe Allura for one thing or another. We can do it before our date tonight maybe?” Keith offered. Lance muttered softly on the other side of the line. For a moment, Keith thought he was arguing with someone. The next voice he heard was Allura’s.

“Lance will come to pick you and Pike up at 5. See you then!” Keith giggled as he heard Lance’s faint groan of embarrassment in the background right before the line went dead. Keith hung up the phone and tried to rub some of the blush out of his cheeks. Huffing, he stood to his feet quickly, deciding it was the perfect time for the kids to take a nap. Coran wiggled his eyebrows at Keith again when he returned.

“Who was on the phone, my young one?” He asked as he bounced one of the toddlers on his knee.

“Allura wants me to model.” Keith said bluntly as he started to arrange the sleeping mats. Coran sighed dramatically as he placed the toddler down.

“Aw. I was hoping for a fruitful story about the blossoming young love.” He meet Keith’s eyes with a huge grin as he closed the door. Keith whined as he turned to turn on the radio for the lullabies. Switching off the lights, Keith began his rounds to get everyone comfy and ready for naptime. As Keith settled down onto his designated spot, Pike crawled over and laid himself on Keith’s chest. A few of the other kids filled on some of the empty spots around Keith before falling asleep. He blew air out of his nose. It started as a sound of being completely done, but ended with a soft laugh. Keith loved his job.

Lance arrived exactly on time. Keith smirked as he thought that Allura must of threaten him to make sure he wouldn’t be late. Keith already had Pike’s bag ready and was waiting at the door when Lance exited his car. Stumbling over his long legs, Lance pulled Keith and Pike into a hug.

“Let’s get going or Allura is going to have all of our asses.” Lance proved Keith’s theory right as he rushed them to the car. Keith slid into the passenger’s seat and Lance buckled Pike up. Lance filled the car with his voice as he drove. Halfway through the ride, Pike took off his shoes and threw them into the front. Keith yelped as a shoe flew past his face. “Oh, sorry about that. Bad habit I’ve been trying to break. I think he does it to get someone’s attention since he’s still facing the back.” Lance informed him as Pike gurgled in the back. Keith pushed himself up and leaned over to look into Pike’s car seat. “Keith! That’s dangerous.” Lance started to hit Keith’s hip. Keith waved him off as he looked at Pike, who grinned at him before signing for a drink.

“He’s thirsty.” Keith said as he plopped back into his seat. Reaching down, he grabbed Pike’s cup from the diaper bag and handed to him. Pike clapped his hands on the clap before he started to drink it. Keith grinned at Lance, “Problem solved.” Lance laughed as he shook his head and pulled into the parking lot of Altea.

As they entered the photo op room, they were greeted with the image of Shiro and Matt in tuxedos. Matt held a bundle of dark purple and silver flowers. They both had shinning gold rings on their hands. Matt smiled up at Shiro as Shiro bent down to swing him up into his arms. Matt giggled as his arms encircled Shiro’s neck. He continued to smile as he pulled himself up to kiss Shiro sweetly on the lips. Allura applauded them as she entered the scene.

“We got some wonderful shoots. Thank you two so much.” She hugged them both before moving on to Lance and Keith. “And thank you for showing up on such a short notice. I was not aware that the magazine was going to let me put in two photo advertisements, but I am so overjoyed that they are. Now, if you would just go and change, that would be wonderful.” She showed them to the changing rooms that had their designated outfits. As Keith passed the two men, Matt looked up at Shiro with a wicked grin. Shiro went to tell him no, but Matt bet him to it.

“Hey, Keith! Think fast!” Matt yelled as he tossed the flowers in Keith’s direction. Startled, Keith flinched before catching the flowers. Looking at Matt with confusion, he held the flowers in one hand with the other on his hip. “Don’t you know the tradition? The person who catches the flowers is next-” Matt was interrupted as Keith threw the flowers back at Matt’s face. Keith stomped into the changing room with a red face as Matt laughed quite satisfied with his joke.

Keith and Lance changed into their outfits and Pike fought to not be forced into more clothes. Keith came out in deep wine red leggings with a black oversized sweater that had small golden flowers on it. Thankfully, he was allowed to keep his biker boots on. Lance came out wearing mint green skinny jeans, a white and mint crop jacket, and a black shirt under it. He also had on simple white high top sneakers. Pike, who was dressed in a flowy, black tank top, which read “I love my Daddies” in rainbow letters, black leggings, and little rainbow sneakers. They were then seated at the makeup area, where light makeup, a black choker, and a white and gold flower crown were forced onto Keith. Lance got a subtle smokey eye with a sharp wing. The only extra work done to Pike was his hair being styled into a mini faux mohawk.

Lance looked over to Keith and, for what seemed like the millionth time since he moved back, he left the air in his lungs leave. Keith looked beautiful. The white and gold flowers in his black hair looked like the night sky with stars. The leggings clung to Keith’s legs like a second skin and outlined how muscular his legs really were. The deep red and black made his pale skin glow in the lights from the camera. Keith felt his cheeks turn red as he noticed Lance’s stare. Keith averted his eyes to try and focus on minimising the redness of his cheeks. Keith had to hand it to Allura; she does a wonderful job at finding colors that make Lance glow, and with the sharp cat eyes, Lance looked fierce.

Allura clapped and bounced on the balls of her feet when she saw them.

“Okay, lovelies. Over to the gray screen. Now, face each other and have Pike on your outside hip.” Allura directed to into position. “Just do whatever and we will try to get some good shots in.” She stepped behind all of the equipment and let the ‘family’ be. Lance grinned at Keith as he bent his knees.

“Now we’re the same height.” Keith huffed a piece of hair out of his face as he turned away from Lance. Lance placed Pike on the floor between the two of them and held his hand,. Getting the idea, Keith grabbed his other hand. “On three.” Lance smiled over at Keith. “One.”

“Two.” Keith grinned back.

“Three!” They both laughed as the pulled Pike up and swung him a little. Pike gurgled out a higher pitch laugh at the sudden movement. They did this a few times before Lance’s shoulder started to ache. Bending down, Keith picked up Pike and turned back to Lance. Leaning forward, Lance placed his forehead onto Keith’s.  They locked eyes for a moment and everything froze. Slowly, Keith let his eyes drift close as he felt his heart fall into a peaceful pace. Pike, not noticing the moment, reached out and placed his hand on Lance’s cheek, redirecting the cuban’s attention away from the beauty in front of him. Lance smiled as he leaned over and kissed Pike softly on the head. Keith opened his eyes as he moved. A soft smile fell upon his lips at the gentle gesture of love.

After a few more shots, Allura waved them off to go change. Pike, who was done with clothes for the day, refused to changed and Lance was too tired to fight him. Lance was discussing the edits that needed to be made to the photos from the day when Keith come out. Pike was toddling around before he ran to Keith. Allura smiled at them as the joined the two talking.

“Thank you once again, Keith. You made this so much easier.” She patted his shoulder. He nodded as she looked down at her watch. “Oh, dear. I’m going to be late. I’m suppose to meet Pidge in half an hour and I still have to change.” Allura rushed over to her purse. “Bye, boys.” She called back as she waved from the door. They waved back as her slim figure slipped through the door and down the stairs. Lance looked over at Keith with one eyebrow cocked up.

“When did that happen?” Keith hummed before he started to walk.

“About a month before you came back. They didn’t make a big deal about it so we never did. It just was and we left it at that. Now, come on. We have our own date to get to.” Keith smirked over his shoulder as he exited the room. Lance opened and closed his mouth a few times before wetting his lips and sprinting after them.

“Wait up, Keith!” Lance raced after them and skipped down the stairs. He grabbed Keith’s hand with a soft smile as he opened the door. “Let’s go on our date now.” He pulled Keith slightly. “We’ll take Pike with us and go eat dinner. Then we can go back to my place and watch a movie or something.” Keith smiled back as he placed Pike into the car seat.

“Let’s do it.”

The trio ended up at the small diner that they encountered each other for the first time after Lance moved back. Lance and Keith sat across from each other in a booth with Pike at the end of the table in a highchair. Pike was currently patting away at the table as Keith and Lance filled the air with small talk. An older lady walked up and looked at Pike. She smiled and waved at the baby before turning to the adults.

“He is such a pretty baby. You two are so lucky.” She smiled as she patted Pike’s head and walked away.  Keith felt his face go red as Lance’s jaw fell open. Pike furrowed his brows inwards at the unwanted touch. As his lower lip start to poke out, the waiter came by and dropped off the food. Lance forced his eyes to meet Keith’s. A moment of silence fell over them before they both started to laugh. Lance gripped his sides as he leaned his head against the table. When he looked up, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of a flustered, winded Keith. Keith had a gentle smile that pulled up the corner of his eyes, and when he laughed he leaned his head forward a tad, making his bangs cover his sparkling eyes. At that moment, Lance vowed to always make Keith smile like that until the day he died.

After they ate, they retrieved Red from Lion’s Palace, and then headed back to Lance’s place. Laying pillows and the sofa cushions on the floor, Lance popped in a Disney movie. Keith laid down with Pike on his chest and Lance by his side, Pike stuck his thumb in his mouth and grabbed a handful of Keith’s hair. Keith kept one hand on his back and let Lance play with the fingers of the other hand, Pike fell asleep halfway through the movie. Leaning over, Lance turned to TV off. As he sat back down, his eyes met Keith’s. Keith had that soft smile on his face again. Losing all forms of self-control, Lance leaned down and disturbed that smile with a kiss. Keith made a soft sound of surprise before he responded to the kiss. While it only lasted a matter of second, Lance felt as if his whole life had lead up to this moment. The air warmed a little as a sense of peace washed over him, even though his heart rate had doubled. Pulling back, he opened his eyes again to see that the soft smile remained.

“God.” Lance breathed out. Keith giggled slightly as he reached his free hand up. Pulling Lance down, he reconnected their lips. The peaceful feeling remained but fire replaced Lance’s blood as Keith’s chapped lips moved against his. Pike made a soft noise in his sleep, startling Lance. Backing up once more, Lance smiled. “I guess I should get him to bed,” He said as he ran his hands through Pike’s hair. Keith nodded and let Lance take Pike from his chest. He watched Lance gracefully stand up and walk out of the room. Time seemed to restart once Lance was out of sight. Keith sighed heavenly as he let his head fall back onto the pillows. He closed his eyes as his smile widened. He waited years to do that and he never imagined it would feel so good. Yet. it wasn’t like the way books described it. There was no fireworks or grand explosion. Instead it was as if someone turned on a tap and let the emotions flow through him. In his opinion, the gentle flow was better than some big bang. It was the peace he had been missing all of his life.

Once Lance returned, they stayed on the floor, kissing and cuddling until it got late. With one final kiss, Lance saw Keith to the door and watched his drive away. Sighing, Lance leaned against the door for a moment as his eyes watched the taillights of red disappear. With a gentle smile still on his face, Lance pushed himself off of the doorframe and went to bed. Running his fingers over his lips, Lance started to fall into a dream of kisses and glove covered hands.

Yet, like always, when it was good, it never lasted. About an hour after he went to bed, Lance was forced from his dreams by a ringing phone. Cursing as he rolled over, he pulled the phone to his ear without looking at the caller ID.

“Yes?” He grumbled out with a sleep heavy voice.

“Lance?” Shiro’s voice sounded unsteady and broken over the line. “It’s Keith.”

Next: Chapter 10

It all started with:  Chapter 1