#There was a line and they crossed it a loooooong time ago

[therandomficwriter]

Crossing All The Lines

Who: Aaron Hotchner

What: Reader has feelings for Aaron and dances around them with quick glances when you think he’s not looking. Then reader gets hurt and accidentally confesses in the heat of the moment.

Request: Nope

Warnings: Typical canon criminal minds violence, talks of getting shot, blood, Slight age gap but otherwise age isn’t mentioned, etc. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/n: I know its been forever since I've written anything but I’m back into my criminal minds binge and currently have Hotch brain rot so yeah,,, n e ways please feel free to enjoy! A/n 2: Ngl I've been working on this one since June of 2023 and barely finished it now (Feb. 2024) so this was a loooooong wip but besides that i really hope you guys like it!

You guys have been going at it for hours now. The sun had set long ago and many of the officers have gone home, the new shift well settled into their stations.

Despite the amount of time you and the team had spent trying to get to the bottom of the unsub’s reasoning, which would bring you guys one step closer to finding out who it might be, you are no closer to figuring it out now than this morning.

Reid is going off on another one of his tangents and you are trying desperately to pay attention and keep your mind from wandering, the late hour not helping you much.

Everyone is in a different form of concentration but, none the less, in a similar state of exhaustion. Morgan is slouched in his chair, head in his hand, Rossi on his fourth, maybe fifth, cup of coffee, but there’s one person you can’t help but let your eyes wander towards.

Hotch stands at the head of the table, arms crossed on his chest, tiredness prominent in his features. Your eyes follow him as he moves across the room, removing his suit jacket and discarding it onto a chair. Moving back to his original spot, he rolls his sleeves slightly up to rest upon his forearms, then loosens his tie ever so slightly.

He leans over the table and opens his mouth to begin talking but, if you are being honest, not a single word is heard by you. Your eyes stay glued to his arm, his muscles flexing slightly from the way he is gripping the edge of the table.

You try to pay attention, really you do, but it is no use. Your sleep deprived brain is not allowing you to focus on anything but the man in front of you. If you are being honest, you have grown feelings for him but you don’t dare act on them. I mean how can you blame yourself? There is just so much you admire about him, you can possibly go on for hours just listing off the reasons.

As your mind seems to drift off, you don’t seem to notice Hotch has caught on to what you were doing.

Feeling eyes on him, he glances around the room and soon catches your eye. Upon meeting his eyes, yours slightly widen and you quickly look down, willing your face to not heat up at being caught with your shameless stares. You swear at yourself thinking if he brings it up you’d blame it on the late hour and lack of proper sleep.

Unknown to you Hotch’s lips quirk up, amused at your reaction to being caught, chuckling softly to himself. He looks around the room once again, taking note of the tired faces of his team and decides to speak up.

“All right team, let’s call it a night. We’ll pick this back up in the morning when we’re all rested. Maybe then we will be able to think about this more clearly.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the team quickly gathers their belongings and heads out of the station towards their shared vehicles.

The ride back to the hotel was uneventful as everyone split off into groups between the two SUVs. You opted to ride with Hotch and Rossi taking advantage of their silent personas, definitely not because you favored the first of the two.

Taking your place behind the passenger seat, you quickly got as comfortable as possible on your way back to the hotel. Usually you would try to fill in the silence with different topics varying from the case you guys were currently investigating to what book you were reading at the moment, but right now you could barely form coherent sentences with your sleep deprived mind.

You could feel yourself slowly drifting off, the smooth ride and the sound of the car moving along the street help bring you into a deep slumber.

Unbeknownst to you a pair of eyes traveled across your sleeping form, glancing back and forth between you and the road. A small sigh escapes his mouth as he notices your breathing even out.

Hearing someone clear their throat, Hotch casts his eyes toward the passenger seat where Rossi is sitting with a knowing look on his face. His eyes turn back to the road.

"Dave..." he says quietly, tone coming out as a warning.

Rossi raises his hands in defense, keeping his voice down as well "I didn't say anything."

"I know that look. You have something you want to say," Hotch mutters, face annoyed.

"Aaron in know that look on your face. How long are you planning on keeping her in the dark? You deserve to be happy and I can tell she is the reason your mood has improved a lot lately," Rossi keeps his voice low as to not wake you up.

Hotch moves his eyes towards you one more time, taking in your features, he notices the slightest content smile on your face not having a worry in the world while sleeping. He lets out a deep sigh eyes leaving your figure and focusing completely on the road.

"Because I am her boss and she is my subordinate. I can not cross that line even if i wanted to. I can only imagine what the higher ups would say if they found out."

"Besides she deserves someone better, someone closer to her age, someone her could provide her with everything she could want or need. Why would she want someone like me," he finished off.

Rossi shook his head, "You, my friend, are completely clueless. How could she not want to be with you? Have you seen the way she looks at you? And don't give me that B.S. about your status as her boss, as if that matters. Trust me Aaron, that girl would follow you through hell and back if you asked her and i know you would do just the same."

Hotch let Rossi's words sink in. He kept his head forward, choosing not to reply in order to completely shut down this conversation, not wanting to get his hopes up too high.

Luckily the hotel quickly came into view and Hotch felt himself relax slightly. As soon as the suvs were parked everyone got off and split up and made their separate ways into their hotel rooms. Getting off, Hotch made his way to the back passanger side to wake you and send you off to sleep in your room.

He got to his own room, going through his normal night time routine before slipping into bed. Despite the late hour and lack of proper sleep the night before, his mind seemed to run non stop. It wasn't the unresolved case or fact that the unsubs motive was hard to pinpoint.

No, his mind seemed to be full of you. The conversation with Rossi seemed to have kickstarted his thoughts into a spiral. Eventually he drifted off to sleep his final thought of you and what he believes could never be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually you and the team had finally managed to find the link between the victims and his motive became clear. Richard Cornwall, a local who lives in the outskirts of town on his family ranch had been taking the victims and making them weaken enough to use in his own version of "hunting."

The evidence pointed to you all that he was a narcissist that believed he was too good at hunting the local game that it no longer was fun to him. So he thought that using real people would provide more of a challenge, that way he could really prove he was the best and what he did.

Currently on route to the Cornwall family ranch, y'all prepared yourselves. It was common knowledge that he was a hunter so you knew he had to have a surplus of weapons as well as being on the look out for and traps he might have left around the property.

Parking the suvs in front of the main house, you split up to survey the property looking for Cornwall and the latest person he had kidnapped.

While the rest of the team searched the two story house, you, Hotch, and Reid had taken the left side of the property going straight towards the barn, stalls, and the field. You noticed a deer blind a little ways away in the field making a mental note to take a sweep of it after checking out the barn.

After clearing the stalls, you guys made your way though the barn with no signs of Cornwall or the victim. Reid noticed a corner of the barn that seemed to be where he left the vicitms to bleed out. The deep red was splattered on the walls and completely covered the floor. Hotch took note of it saying he would get forensics to take samples of it.

As you guys began to exit the barn after clearing it you turned your head towards Hotch and Reid to tell them about the structure you saw in the middle of the field. As soon as you opened your mouth, the sound of a gun shot rang though the air.

You were down within a second, the shot hitting you right in your left shoulder causing you to let out a scream, your other hand reaching out to hold onto the wound. You began to feel lightheaded, the blood coming from your shoulder seemed to be never ending.

Hotch and Reid quickly crouched down taking cover in the barn as another shot rang out. They each grabbed one of your arms pulling you inside to safety with them. The yell you let out was worse than anything Hotch had heard, he could only imagine the pain you were feeling right now.

He radioed the rest of the team and the rest of the officers to let them know to be on the lookout notifying them you were currently down. They only know the general direction the shot came from, not too sure where Cornwall was.

"The blind" you let out weakly.

Reid spotted the deer blind a little ways out in the field and let everyone else know the location so they could proceed with caution.

You on the other hand, felt like you would pass out any second now. You felt like you were on fire, your shoulder growing heavier by the second. Soon your vision started getting spotty, white dots littered your sight as you tried to blink them away, tears streamed down your face from the pain.

Hotch turned to look at you to make sure you were alright but quickly noticed the flushed look on your face, your lips were pale, a sign you were soon to faint.

"Hey, L/N, look at me. You need to stay awake for me." he urged, shaking your head a bit to stimulate you.

The sound of his voice was coming in and out, growing louder then getting harder to hear, your ears no longer wanting to work. You blinked a bit trying to focus on him and what he was currently saying to you.

"Y/N, you're losing a lot of blood, they might have to do a blood transfusion at the hospital," he ushers out, desperation evident in his voice, "What is your type?"

In your current state, you tried hard to process what he was asking you. You vision was quickly growing worse and it was getting harder to hear him. You let out the first thing that came to your mind.

"You."

The last thing you heard was JJ's voice over the coms informing they had got unsub in custody and finally found the last victim who was luckily alive. Black soon consumed your vision and you were out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of the ground rumbling beneath you was the first hint to you that you were slowly gaining consciousness.

Soon the low sounds of a siren could be heard, slightly muffled to you. You tried desperately to open your eyes but you couldn’t find the strength. But you could feel a weight in your hand and you tried to flex your hand, your fingers twitching slightly.

At that you could have sworn you heard what sounded like your name. You tried to focus your hearing a bit more.

“Y/N,” you heard a man say.

You know that voice. You’ve heard it before somewhere. The sound of it seemed to make you calmer. At the sound of his voice again you tried once more to open your eyes.

A blinding light above you is the first thing you see, yet everything still seemed to be foggy. You glance at you surroundings, your eyes barely open a crack. That is when you see him.

He looked absolutely ethereal, you could’ve sworn he was an angel here on earth. The bright glow from the lights casted a halo around him. But there’s no way he could be here right now. He opens his mouth to speak again.

“Y/N, are you alright? Do you need anything? We are heading to the hospital right now, we should be there any moment.”

You stared at him for what seemed like forever just taking him in. His sentence went in one ear and out the other, as if he never said anything to begin with, as if he wasn’t even then, a mere figment of your imagination. You couldn’t wrap your head around what was going on or where you were. The only thing you could say was what you were currently thinking.

“I dream of you so often, I don’t know if you’re even real.”

And with that you felt yourself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness. The sound of that man’s voice imbedded deep in your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A low beeping lulled you out of your unconscious state. Your eyelids felt heavy, as if they were made of concrete, not allowing you to open them just yet. You stayed there unmoving, trying to get accustomed to your surroundings, willing yourself to try and feel anything around you.

You could feel the soft pillow underneath your head and the, somewhat, stiff bed underneath you. In your head, you knew your were laying in a bed somewhere, but for the life of you, you could not recall a single thing that happened to you or where you could possibly be at this moment.

Racking your brain, you tried desperately to remember what was going on. The last thing you remembered was that you and the team had a case you were working on. Where was it? Oh, right, you guys were currently in Texas. The unsub was a fisherman? No, wait, a hunter.

As you started to recall more and more of the case it all started to come back to you. You, Hotch, and Reid were searching the barn. That's right, you were right on his trail and then... he shot you.

'Wait Hotch, Reid, are they alright?'

Your eyes suddenly shot open at the thought of your friends hurt. Wincing at the sudden bright light around you, you blinking trying to get used to the sight around you.

At the same time, all your senses rushed back to you all at once. you could hear that constant beeping again but this time a little louder. Looking towards your right, you noticed the heart monitor displaying your heart rate. You stared at it for a little bit and watched the line move at a rhythmic pace before you realized that your left hand felt a bit heavier that usual.

Your fingers twitched, slowly flexing, trying to grasp at what was resting in your hand. You turn your head slightly, glancing down at your hand, only to notice another hand placed over yours.

Eyes widening at the slight, you move them from the hand, up the arm and towards the person it belonged to. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

In the chair next to you, Hotch was leaned back into the chair. His left arm was slung over his abdomen and his right arm was stretched out resting on the side of your hospital bed, hand intwined with yours.

He look so peaceful in his sleep, which was a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression, despite the slight furrow in his brows. How he managed to look so comfortable in that hard plastic chair was beyond you, but you were sure that the exhaustion of the events the night before finally caught up to him.

You watched him for a while, your heart strings pulling at the thought of him so worried about you that he actually slept in that uncomfortable chair all night when he had a nice warm bed back at the hotel you guys were staying at.

The sounds of someone clearing their throat pulled you from your thoughts, as you glance towards the doorway where the sound came from. Rossi stood there leaning against the door frame, a knowing smile gracing his features.

Feeling the heat rise to your face, your eyes dart away from Rossi and down at the blankets the covered you. David knew of the feelings you harbored towards the man to your left, having caught you staring at him a little longer that usual a couple of times. He soon got the truth out of you after a night of drinking, to which you spilled your heart out to the older man in hopes of getting advice from someone that knew Hotch inside and out.

"How you feeling kiddo?"

Hearing his question spoken softly, you glance back up at him and clear your throat feeling it dry from not speaking for hours on end.

"Alright. Just a little sore I guess," you rasp out quietly.

He raises his eyebrow, "A little? Kid you got shot with a rifle, I don't blame you if you said you it hurts like hell, which I'm pretty sure it does."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," you chuckle softly at his words before glancing back down.

You can't help but let your eyes travel back to where your hand was intwined with Hotch's, letting out a little sigh. Rossi's eyes follow yours, then travel up to where his friend slept soundly.

"You know," he starts with a small smile, "he was really worried about you kid. He's been with you since the ambulance pulled up. He refused to leave your side and even rode with you the whole way over here. We even had a hard time trying to get him to go shower or even change. He insisted that he had to be here when you woke up."

You shift your focus up to Hotch's face, taking in the words Rossi was saying, heart melting at the thought. Your mind raced at the implications of what this all meant but you quickly shut them down, not wanting to get your hopes up.

"I'm sure he would've been the same if it were any one of us," you replied, shoulders slumping a bit at the thought.

David rolled his eyes at your words, "You know what I mean Y/N. Sure he would've been worried if it happened to any of us, but I doubt he would be sleeping if those god awful chairs all night if it wasn't for you."

At that you could feel the hand in yours start to twitch, Hotch moving slightly as he began to wake up. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes started to flutter open. The first thing Aaron saw as he fully woke up was Rossi standing in the doorway staring right at him.

"Dave? What are you doing here?"

Rossi chuckles softly, shaking his head as he pushes himself away from the door frame to stand up straight.

"Oh nothing, figured I should probably go get a bite to eat and maybe a cup of coffee. It seems like you guys have a lot to talk about," he finishes, nudging his head in your direction.

The look of confusion quickly washes away from Hotch's face as his head snaps in your direction. He takes in the sight of you wide awake, a slight flush on your cheeks that he assumes is because of your injury. He could feel your hand flutter underneath his as he glances down at it. The sight of your hand wrapped with his causes his heart to skip a beat, the moment it resumes he swears he can hear it pounding in his ears.

Rossi clears his throat once more gaining the attention of the two, "Well I better be off, let me know if either of you want something. I hope you feel better kiddo."

You let out a small 'thank you' and he smiles at you then sends Aaron a knowing glance when you aren't looking before turning and making his way out. You both sat there in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch finally asks, breaking the silence between you.

"Honestly, I've been better," you let out a little chuckle, trying to ease the tension, before turning solum again remembering your current state.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I should've know better, if only I-"

Hotch cuts you off with a reassuring squeeze to your hand.

"Don't," he says firmly, "Don't you ever blame yourself for something that is out of your control. You did all you could and your observations helped us catch the unsub and the last victim was found alive."

"I know, but I just feel bad cause you had to sleep on that," you say, gesturing towards the chair he was sitting on.

He lips quirk up ever so slightly, "Don't worry about it, I should be used to it now because of all the late nights I spend at the office. Besides, I wanted to. I wouldn't do this for just anyone," he says, starting to gain the courage to tell you what is on his mind.

"Hotch-" you start, only to be cut off by him.

"Wait, just let me say this," he holds his hand up. you nod encouraging him to continue.

"Y/N, you are the bravest person I know, not to mention the most caring and thoughtful. You always tend to put others first, but are still able to stand up for yourself and voice your needs. I admire so much about you that I could possibly go on forever. What made me fall for you is beyond me, but I know what I'm feeling is real. I kept telling myself that I shouldn't love you, that I shouldn't cross that boundry, but its not as simple as it sounds. No matter how hard I tried, you made me fall harder and faster without doing much," he sighed, "Even if you don't feel the same, i just needed to tell you."

At the end of his speech your eyes were shining with unshed tears. Never have you heard anything as sweet and poetic as that. You could feel every one of his words in your soul as if he was speaking right to it. He had put his heart on his sleeve for you and you thought it was only fair you did the same.

"Aaron, when I first met you I thought you were just a cold, stoic, blunt man,"

Hotch could've sworn he felt his heart ache at the words leaving your mouth, but that soon changed as you continued.

"But, then I met you and learn a lot about you. You actually had a similar sense of humor as me and know how to dish out a joke as well as take one. Your wit is one of the things that surprised me the most about you. Not to mention that you protect the ones you care about with your life. You come off as nonchalant when in fact you care so much about each and every one of us on this team. And despite what you think, you're the best dad Jack could ever ask for. You really are his hero and I don't blame him. You say you admire me but, oh boy, you have no idea how much about you I cherish and appreciate."

"At first I thought it was nothing more than just a silly little crush, but it turned into so much more than that. I couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard I tried, it happened without me even realizing it. You are the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning and the last thought I have before I drift off to sleep at night, its like you're all that's in my mind. My heart has yearned for you longer than I knew it myself and now that I know that its not just me, I'm willing to cross that line as long as you're there with me," you finished giving his hand a loving squeeze.

Aaron stared at you with loving eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped at the sight. You looked at him shyly with the newfound revelation of your feelings towards each other being mutual. You could feel yourself slowly leaning towards him and him doing just the same.

As the distance between you grew shorter and shorter, you both were stealing glances at each others' lips. Just as you were about to close the distance, a sharp pain shot right through your shoulder causing you to wince and pull back.

Hotch looked at you with worry helping you lean back into the hospital bed. His eyes scanned your face for any traces of discomfort as you got situated back into place. Your eyes met as if he was ask you a silent question, you nodded letting him know you were fine as he sighed in relief.

Chuckling a bit a the situation, he shook his head slightly before leaning down and placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

"Let's wait till you get out of here for that," he smirks, "Besides I need to treat you out to a nice dinner before we could have some dessert" he finished with a swift kiss to the knuckles of your hand that was still interlocked with his.

You couldn't help the heat that quickly rose to your face at his comment. Never, did you think Hotch could be that smooth. Rolling your eyes, you gently slap his arm causing him to laugh softly.

"You're so corny."

"Well you better get used to it cause you're stuck with me now," he replies with a smile.

You shake your head with a giggle, "Can I take that back?"

"Nope," he says, smile growing wider as a mischievous look glints in his eyes, "Besides you said I'm just your type."

The memory of what he was talking about quickly floods into your mind.

Your face flushes a deep shade of embarrassment and you quickly cover your face with your hands, "Oh my god!"

A/n: I really hope you guys liked it! It took me quite a bit to write but i really love the way it came out! I honestly think this is probably my favorite one I've written so far! Just to let y'all know i do have quite a bit planned out so be on the lookout for that and hopefully I'll be able to put out little thing here and there! Once again if y'all want to be added to the tag list the link is here ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ and just fill it out for whatever you want to be tagged for and if you don't know what I write for just checkout my masterlist or leave and ask and I will reply as soon as i can get to it!

Taglist: @uraveragegorewhore @drayshadow @wlfstxr @nikkitc0703 *The ones in red are the ones I couldn't tag so if you want to be added again or removed just fill out the form or comment on here!*

[polar534]

Jersey Stealing Pt. 3

This one is loooooong. I mean it. Probably longer then part one, but it's worth it. If you all were waiting for the bullies comeuppance, this part is for you.

Amity. Is. Pissed.

***

Amity leaned against the cold steel of the flagpole, her eyes peeled. Normally the witch hated using the internet to look up people. The human world's connected network was so filled with obnoxious jerks that it was no wonder Luz had one of them as a grom fear.

This was different though. She had to find what this girl looked like. As she stared into the endless amount of students milling out of the school her mind began to drift back to the night before.

As expected, her conversation with Luz didn't exactly lead anywhere.

***

"Hey Luz? Can we... can we talk?" Amity asked hesitantly, watching as Luz got ready for bed. The witch had been patiently waiting for the right time to approach her about this, and now was as good of time as any.

Luz blinked in the mirror, before turning around and facing Amity, her toothbrush still hanging out the corner of her mouth.

"Mhmm?" Came the muffled reply as Luz adjusted the brush in her mouth to scrub at the other side.

"I can wait until you're done you know." Amity rolled her eyes with a smile.

Luz made a face behind the toothbrush.

"Mhhhm. Mhmm hhmmmm!" She argued fiercely as she turned to face the sink again.

Grabbing the water nearby, Luz cleaned her mouth and spit out what was left of the toothpaste, turning to Amity with a grin.

"No no!! See! All done!" Luz beamed, flashing her minty smile and making Amity laugh. She leapt from the bathroom to the bed and sat cross-legged facing Amity.

"Whatcha wanna talk about?"

"I want to talk about what happened a couple of nights ago."

Luz's eyes widened before she waved her hand in front of her face.

"Oh that? It just caught me off guard. I'm fine now-"

"No you're not!" Amity said quickly, before Luz could try denying it all again. "You haven't been acting like yourself lately and I'm not the only one who noticed."

"Amity. I'm fine. It's all in the past anyways." Luz assured her, her smile fading to a small sliver. "Like I said, I just wasn't expecting to see them ther-"

"I know what happened. At the game. What they said to you." Amity interrupted her again, her voice coldly serious.

Shock registered on Luz's face before her hands found the blanket underneath them and gripped it tightly. She looked down at it as her face hardened, her expression guarded.

But Amity wasn't done.

"Lokte asked their brother if he heard anything and their brother told me." She continued a little more softly, reaching out to put a hand on Luz's knee.

"I asked your mother about Sasha. I think I have an idea of what she meant to you."

"Amity..."

The blanket twisted harder, Luz's fists balling it into a small knot.

"It's ok to be upset. But you've got to let me in on these things, how else am I supposed to help?"

Luz finally looked up to her. Brown eyes met amber ones and Amity realized with a shock just how watery they both had become.

"Can we... can we please not talk about it? It's in the past. Anything she might have meant to me is all gone now, right? So why bother?" She practically mumbled, defeat dripping from her voice.

"Well it's not in the past to me! I'm still learning about all of this. And they can't keep treating you like that!" Amity argued.

"They don't matter to me. I've got Willow and Gus, and Eda and Lilith." Luz said quietly, slowly unwrapping her hand from the blanket to grab Amity's, a slow grin reappearing on her face.

"Annnnnnd I've got you." Luz waggled her eyebrows playfully causing Amity to choke out a laugh past the knot in her throat.

"Luuuuuzzz." The witch groaned as her girlfriend's grin grew bigger.

"I'll be fine, perfectly fine, so long as I've got someone as wonderful as you taking care of me." Luz teased further.

Amity groaned again and gave her a light shove.

"You're such a cheese."

"You're right, I am a cheese. A big cheese to everyone who counts!" Luz shot back, straightening up and leaning dramatically on Amity's shoulder, crushing her into the bed.

"And you loooooovvveeeee me." Luz sing-songed as she flipped over and laid on Amity's chest, looking her in the eyes.

Amity stared back into those big, dopey brown eyes and obnoxious grin and felt her heart flutter. Her face went red as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I do." She chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Luz on the forehead and making her girlfriend squeak in delight.

"Which is why I'm letting this go for tonight. But this isn't over Noceda!"

Luz merely grinned.

"I'd expect nothing less from you, Blight."

***

A sharp whistle jolted Amity out of the memory. She sneered at the guy responsible as he winked at her and disappeared inside the school.

The sooner she found Sasha, the better.

Another wolf whistle had her moving up and into the school. Navigating the hallways of the human school was a lot like finding her way around Hexside. The only problem was, she had no idea where Sasha could be. A thought crossed her mind as she made her way to the back of the school. If there was anyone who knew where Sasha could be, it was Bryce.

And Bryce was the star player of the football team.

Amity pulled plenty of attention with her wherever she went. If she wasn't recognized for Hockey, her hair caught enough attention. Even though the dye job had faded just to the very ends of her hair, the bright green attracted many eyes.

Despite all of this, she thankfully wasn't stopped as she made her way through the school and past the bleachers to the team currently practicing out on the field. She found Bryce fairly quickly.

Or rather. He found her.

"Oh would you look at that boys! This is the babe I was telling you about!"

Amity growled in her throat as a bunch of sweaty football players started running towards her. Their leader, the person she assumed was Bryce, had his helmet off and was walking calmly over to her, a disgusting grin plastered on his face.

"Is it true you checked Ricky Gormley so hard that he cried?"

"I heard that you're the best shot on the team, why are you only on defense?"

The questions swarmed her ears as the boys surrounded her. Instead of addressing any of them, she glared at the player without the helmet.

"I assume you're Bryce."

Bryce's grin grew as smugness flashed in his eyes.

"Why, have you heard of me?" Bryce acknowledged her with a wink that made Amity's skin crawl.

She pushed through the unease and disgust.

"I've heard... some things." Amity admitted, keeping her face blank.

Bryce nudged his friend in the ribs. The known bully leaned against the other player as he waggled his eyebrows at Amity.

"So whatcha doing round here?" Bryce teased.

"I heard you might know where I could find Sasha. I've got a few questions for her."

The football player deflated for a moment before quickly recovering and sliding off his friends shoulder with a smile.

"Yeah. I know where she is. But it's going to cost ya" He grinned wickedly. "How about a date with me. Next Friday after the game. I'll even let you wear my jersey." He winked as his friends loudly gasped and laughed.

Amity smiled and used her finger to draw Bryce is close. As he leaned in, he moved his head so she could whisper in his ear.

"I have a different proposition. How about you tell me where Sasha is, and I won't embarrass you in front of your entire team." Amity growled lowly, making sure only Bryce could hear her.

To her annoyance he simply straightened and flashed her another insufferable grin.

"Ohh. That sounds like fun. I accept your terms hockey girl." He taunted loudly, getting into a ready stance.

His posse seemed to get even more rowdy at this, not having heard what Amity said and jumping to their own conclusions.

Amity rolled her eyes. Turning as if she was going to leave (a chorus of boos sounded behind her) she quickly whipped around and caught Bryce off guard. Using her shoulder to send him sprawling backwards while sticking her foot behind his own, he crashed to the ground in an instant. Amity took a step forward and stood above him, arms crossed.

"Tell me what I want to know or it's going to be more then just the wind getting knocked out of you." She snarled, stepping back and allowing him to get up.

Bryce blinked from his grounded position on the field.

"Hot." He breathed out, a little dazed.

Amity growled as Bryce leapt to his feet, showing no signs of any injury or slowing.

"Alright. You got me. Sasha is usually in the art classroom after school talking with the teacher. Don't know why, but I also don't care."

Amity rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, fighting the urge to make another comment or throw another punch. If Luz could keep her composure around him, then so could Amity.

That was, until the brute grabbed her arm. She reluctantly let him swing her around and to her surprise Bryce looked almost... shy.

"Wait. So about that date..."

"You've already been told I'm taken. I doubt it takes long for even an oaf like you to figure out I don't like guys." She snarled back at him, taking his hand off her arm and twisting it painfully until he crumpled forward in pain.

"You're going to leave my girlfriend alone from now on, or I will come back." Amity threatened lowly, releasing his wrist and pushing the football player back as he stared blankly wide-eyed and nursed his hurt wrist. "And next time you touch me, I'll break your wrist."

Amity turned around and started walking back up to the bleachers, the stunned silence of the team following her. Despite how good it felt to put Bryce in his place, to wipe the grin off his face, she immediately began to worry that she crossed a line. What if he came after Luz for the things she said?

Taking a quick glance over her shoulder the witch saw the injured player grinning at her once again. He cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back up at her.

"Playing hard to get eh? I'll see you again hockey girl. I know you can't wait!" He yelled up at her before turning to his teammates.

His voice was faint but it carried up to Amity's ears nonetheless.

"She must've heard about that creep Luz hitting on her. Honestly had me going for a second. Good to see she's got a sense of humor though!" He laughed to his team.

Amity wished, not for the first time that the human world had just a little magic.

She would give anything to be able to burn the bully to ash.

***

Luckily doodles and posters adorned the 'art' hallway like signs pointing Amity where to go. It was far more quiet here then any of the other sections of the school and Amity almost felt like a ghost, hearing her footsteps echo loudly around her as she walked swiftly through the hall.

Her ears twitched from under the bandanna she wore like a sweatband. Following the faint sound of laughter, Amity found the girl she was looking for standing at the front of a large classroom with double doors.

Peering into the room Amity could see that Sasha was talking with an older woman with graying hair and kind eyes. They were both laughing at something the younger girl had pulled up on her phone, neither of them noticing the intruder.

Amity took the time to analyze her target. Sasha seemed to be a much different person now then how she appeared in her photos. Instead of the flowery and airy style she carried and wore in all of her pictures, she was dressed casually, wearing sweatpants and a bulky sweatshirt that almost threatened to consume her thin frame. It wasn't the wardrobe that drew Amity's eye however, it was the small almost barely visible strip of pink that waved in her otherwise blonde hair.

Unconsciously, Amity's hand went to the remainder of her own dye job.

The movement was enough to garner attention as both teacher and student turned to face the doorway. As Sasha's green eyes met her amber ones, Amity remembered why she was here. Her blood began to boil. Here she was, so calm and collected, so... confident, while Luz had been quiet and withdrawn for days now. It wasn't fair.

Not waiting to be addressed, she strolled straight into the room.

"Can I help you miss?" The teacher asked kindly, freezing Amity in her advance. The witch stiffened. Collecting herself quickly, Amity turned around with a wide smile.

"No it's quite alright. I'm sorry I was in such a rush! I must've forgotten my manners. I just really would like to talk to my friend over here."

"Is that alright Sasha?" The lady turned to the blonde haired girl with a raised eyebrow.

Sasha looked between the two people in front of her before shrugging casually.

"I'll be right back Ms. Reinard. Me and... uh, Amity, right?" Sasha looked over at the witch for reassurance and got a stiff nod as a response.

"Me and Amity are just going to step out into the hallway real quick." Sasha finished politely as she stuck her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt and walked Amity out into the hallway.

"So... um. Why is the lead star of the hockey team wanting to talk to me?" Sasha asked quite shyly when they were far enough out of earshot. Not knowing where to stand, she settled with leaning against a locker.

Amity did not follow her lead. Instead she tore off the jersey she had on, leaving her standing in the hallway in just a white tank top and blue jeans. Sasha stared at her curiously as the witch began to fidget with the jersey.

"I wanted to ask you about something that happened at my last game." Amity said coolly, her tone level.

"Oh. You must've heard about Luz..."

Amity's heartrate spiked at the name of her girlfriend but she kept her face straight. Eyes half lidded. Don't show any emotion. Gain as much information as you can. That was the way of the Blight.

"One could say that." Amity replied casually. "What do you think of her?"

Sasha's eyes widened almost guiltily as Amity continued turning her jersey over in her hands.

"She's... she's nothing you should worry about. Luz is mostly harmless." The girl sighed, looking down at the ground and avoiding the witch's intense stare.

Amity's hands gripped tighter into the fabric of her jersey.

"That didn't answer my question." The witch ever so subtly growled.

"I don't understand what you mean?"

"My question was what you thought about her. Though in all fairness, I guess it doesn't matter. Luz never really cared about what everyone else seemed to think about her. Everyone except you."

Sasha stared at her with wide eyes as Amity's face twisted into a frown. Amber eyes drifted down at the jersey.

"Are you... ok?" Sasha asked after a moment. When Amity didn't answer right away, the girl took a step forward.

Reacting quickly, Amity side stepped the hand that was coming down to rest on her shoulder and instead tossed her jersey up in the air.

"Yeah. Hold that for a second would you?"

Sasha lunged forward to catch the jersey just in time as the fabric unraveled in her hands. Suddenly, the tag attached to the back was sticking out. Sasha eyes locked onto it immediately just as Amity knew they would. After all, the colors Luz chose were hard to miss.

"What is this?"

"First you don't answer my question, now you're you saying you can't read either?" Amity snapped.

The witch knew what was on the tag. Knew that Sasha would've understood it. Should've understood it.

When Amity had first gotten her jersey she had been a little nervous. A new jersey meant a new team. A new chance for her to get her teammates injured again.

Luz didn't see it like that however. She was ecstatic, making sure it fit Amity well and making sure that she was plenty excited about her new jersey. When her girlfriend still had some reservations about it, Luz claimed it was simply because she hadn't made it *hers* yet. Taking some markers and dashing out the door with the shirt, Luz emerged from wherever she had been hiding a few minutes later with a very bright and colorful tag that read:

'Property of Amity.' With a small drawing of a hockey stick and puck.

A couple of weeks and jersey stealing incidents later and there appeared another line on the tag.

'Property of Amity. And Luz! (her amazing wonderful girlfriend).'

The understanding quiet that swarmed the hallway was deafening.

"So she was telling the truth..." Sasha spoke quietly, thumbing the tag gently.

Amity leaned forward and plucked the jersey out of Sasha's hands. With her arms exposed, she cut an intimidating figure, the muscles she had gained from training and practice obvious. The movement seemed to startle the blonde-haired girl as she looked up in alarm.

"Look. I'm sorry, but you don't understand. You couldn't. The situations she's caused and problems... You haven't known her as long as we-"

"I don't need to." Amity interrupted calmly, gently sliding the jersey back over her head. "In the amount of time I've known Luz she's nearly gotten me killed in a library, almost got my siblings eaten alive, nearly set us both on fire-"

"What kind of camp did you go to?!"

"-and almost terrorized an entire town with their worst fears." Amity finished, ignoring Sasha's question entirely. She held up a lazy hand gesturing to nothing. "And that's just the short list."

"Then... why?" Sasha asked after a short pause, her eyes lingering to a specific spot behind Amity's head where the jersey's tag would've been.

Amity laughed, a sharp and cold sound in the mostly quiet room. Sasha flinched, her back hitting the locker she was leaning against with a loud and hollow bang.

"You know the thing about you bullies, is that the one thing you never did was give Luz a chance. I almost didn't either. That was a mistake."

Sasha looked up curiously, a large range of emotions flashing through her eyes. The girl's submissive stance was familiar to Amity. Uncomfortably familiar. Flashbacks from her days of sullenly stalking around Hexside flashed in her head.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Luz was always the one who got us out of each and every situation. She's always willing to help fix her mistakes." Amity stared at Sasha pointedly. "Always willing to look for the best in people."

The blonde haired girl in front of her hung her head.

"You threatened to call the cops on my girlfriend." Amity told her plainly.

Sasha didn't say anything, but instead sighed heavily and nodded. Her silence only irritated Amity more.

"You know I asked around. I've seen Luz deal with bullies before. I know it usually doesn't ever get to her. I know about Bryce, about the brute he is. But you were 'different'. You meant something else to Luz."

"I..." Sasha blinked, genuinely confused, "... what?"

"Tell me, since you've known her for sooo long. Have you ever seen Luz quiet?"

"Quiet?"

"Yeah. Quiet. Withdrawn. Sad." Amity listed, annoyed.

"No, she's... she's always been really out-going and kinda loud if I'm being honest. Even when everyone was so clearly annoyed with it, she didn't stop." Sasha admitted. Her face grew with a sad smile. "Nothing really got her down."

"Well it has now. You have." Amity said coldly.

The blonde girl's eyes widened, but the witch didn't let her say anything.

"Luz has faced a lot of things, none of them pretty, and still come out the same person as before. I've seen her do it. But the idea she had of you, the hope she had... you were different in her eyes." Amity explained shoving her hands deep into her pockets to prevent them from clenching into fists. A lump formed in her throat, the anger and empathy she felt balling tightly there and making it difficult to speak or breathe.

"But I see now you're just the same as the rest of them." Amity growled.

The sentence clearly had an immediate effect on Sasha who's eyes flashed in anger, she rose up to defend herself but Amity was already done. Her anger was quickly fading, leaving her body cold and numb. All she wanted was to go home. To go home to Luz. With a short decisive wave she cut off anything the other girl could've possibly said and took a step closer, purposefully drawing herself up to look as intimidating as possible.

Even if it couldn't stick with Bryce, she would make sure it stuck here. The last thing Luz needed was more of a reminder of just how badly the human world failed her.

"Leave my girlfriend alone. Tell all your friends that if they come near Luz again, they'll get to experience exactly why I'm the best defensive hockey player in the division."

Amity turned sharply, her footsteps filling in the silence left behind from the threat. She heard the door of the art class room open again after a pause and the teacher's kind voice drifted through the hallway.

"Sasha... you're crying. All you alright? Did something happen?"

Amity didn't stop as Sasha hesitantly answered. She refused to hear her excuses, her mind stuck in the past. Stuck to the night Amity found her girlfriend nearly freezing to death, staring up at nothing. The night she saw Luz's hope for something die.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Happy Holidays, RotBTD Fandom!!!

Hello everyone! This is my Secret Santa gift for @siodymph’s RotBTD Gift Exchange!! Or a preview from it anyway--the full fic is actually much longer and is still a work in progress ^^; 

I got @disney0bsessoid5150! I admittedly stalked your page a bit and it seems like you ship Jackunzel and enjoy angst, so I was just like ohhhhhhh yes, I can work with that!!! Truthfully I used it as a bit of an excuse to finally start on an angsty Jackunzel fic I’ve wanted to write for a loooooong time now. I think it’s approaching like...4 years that I’ve had the concept now?? Anyways, I guess I’m finally getting around to it! And I owe ya one for giving me an excuse to finally get up off my butt and get started on it XD

So I came across and really fell in love with the idea of icicle!Jack a few years ago, where basically Jack gets covered in icicles after his power goes out-of-hand in some way and like...double-freeze him, or Pitch does some shenanigans to use the icicles to make the poor boy even MORE isolated. Largely inspired by NightmareHound’s comic strips about Icicle Jack on deviantart as well! And of course my Jackunzel Trash brain instantly was like “Angsty Jackunzel fic??? Angsty Jackunzel fic??? Do I smell ANGSTY JACKUNZEL FIC???” as soon as I saw Icicle!Jack, so here is said angsty Jackunzel fic. The full first chapter will be posted on my fanfiction.net account Infrared-Ultraviolet soon!

Now without further ado--please enjoy this preview from my new story, Melting Icicles!

(Preview starts under Keep Reading marker)

The winter seems to last an eternity.

February is beginning, and some of the ice is starting to melt. Jack Frost treks through the forest again, heading for the creek.

Spring isn’t coming anytime soon, not on the Nightmare King’s watch. And if this means Jack Frost has to refreeze the entire forest and dump another 2 feet of snow on it, so be it.

He’s getting awfully tired of doing Pitch’s bidding, and although he admits it to no one but himself, he feels he could use some sun after all these months of dark. But if he loses the Nightmare King, he knows he will be alone again.

Someone who fills his mind with vicious whispers is better than no one at all.

The ice across the top of the creek is cracked and splintered in places, revealing water starting to rush with spring fervor. Certainly well on its way to thawing completely, if the late winter sunshine keeps up.

He spots a plump female rabbit a little ways down the bank, ears twitching and nose to the ground. She sniffs cautiously around the dead reeds and gingerly puts a paw down on the ice, pressing down as if to test it.

Seemingly satisfied, she takes another step forward, hopping slightly with her back legs so that her front half is now entirely on the ice. Jack feels himself tense up.

She wants to cross, he realizes.

The rabbit takes a few more paces forward, tiny, furred nose twitching as she goes. She takes one more step, and there’s a small snap beneath her.

“No, no, go back!” Jack hisses, feeling anxiety creep up in him like a brewing blizzard. “It’s not safe to cross yet!”

Frustration prickles at him as he watches the rabbit, willing her to back up to the banks. Couldn’t she wait until after he re-iced the creek to try and get wherever she needed to go?

The rabbit skirts the small fissure and continues on her way, albeit more timidly. Another louder crack sounds and she freezes again, nose twitching furiously.

Jack creeps carefully along the treeline to get a better look at where she is. The ice is nearly as clear as a window, and he can see the waves of the chilled stream rushing by below it.

It may as well be paper-thin.

The rabbit takes another step forward, and a crack spreads out in front of her, splitting and bifurcating like the branches of an eerie tree. The crevices grow and grow, scattering off to the side and spreading into a wide semi-circle almost completely surrounding her.

The entire ice cover is about to cave in.

No! Jack lunges forward, jabbing his staff at the thawing stream and sending a fresh wave of ice surging down it. The rabbit’s head turns and her eyes widen at the fast-encroaching wisps of blue-white. She leaps backward, spooked.

In one slow, horrifying moment, the ice gives way beneath her, and she plunges into the stream. Jack can’t quite put his finger on why, but the image chills him to the very bone.

It’s almost as if there’s a haunting sense of…familiarity.

Snapping out of his shock, he jumps into action. He slams his staff down against the icy creek, and it shatters like glass, fragments of ice spilling into the rushing water below. Crouching down, he plunges his hand into the water and freezes it into a thick dam of ice.

The rabbit lets out a cry as she collides with it seconds later, the wind knocked out of her temporarily. Jack scoops her up and pulls her out of the water, starting to massage her soaked, cold fur.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now.”

He summons a burst of wind from his staff and lets it sweep across the rabbit, dragging the cold water away. The rabbit shudders as it passes, paws twitching uncomfortably.

“I know it’s cold,” he says meekly, an apology heavy in the words. “But you’re going to be alright. I promise you.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” he can almost hear the Boogeyman saying.

Well, you’re wrong. I’m going to keep this one.

He starts to run his hand back and forth through the rabbit’s fur, trying to generate some semblance of warmth. The creature trembles, letting out a low whimper.

The shivers start small, nothing more than tiny tremors. But with each stroke, they grow stronger and stronger, until the creature is shaking like an autumn leaf.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m trying.”

The rabbit jerks suddenly, starting to twitch and squirm toward the edge of his hands. He reaches out his thumbs to try and grab her, but she’s too quick. In one fluid movement, she twists out of his hands, toppling to the ground.

There’s a shock of red as she hits the ground, and Jack sees crimson lines rapidly beginning to form in her gray-brown coat. Places where his icicles grazed her in the fall, he realizes.

Not again…

“No, please…” His voice is shaking, becoming desperate. Frantic. “I want to help. Please let me help.”

He has to be able to do more than hurt. He has to.

Pitch has to be wrong about him.

The rabbit starts to drag herself away, leaving a trail of cherry-red in the snow. Tears brimming in his eyes, Jack reaches out and gently scoops her up again, careful not to touch the gashes.

Maybe I can at least wash them off before she goes…

The rabbit goes limp in his grip, seemingly with little fight left in her. For one horrifying moment, he wonders if she suffered the same fate as the squirrel, until he feels the shallow rise and fall of her breaths against his hands. His entire body slackens with relief.

“Allow me.”

An unfamiliar voice sounds behind him, and he turns.

The snow-melting girl from the clearing is looking right at him, long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a river of sunlight.

She can see me…

He expects her to shudder or wince at the sight of the coating of icicles, but she doesn’t even appear to give them a second glance. She steps forward, bare feet quickened with a sudden sense of urgency.

She kneels before him and sits on her knees, starting to wrap the ends of her long hair around his hands and the shivering rabbit in tight ropes. He doesn’t resist, too surprised to protest. He feels the rabbit finally relax against him, something about the touch of the girl’s hair seeming to finally calm the animal down.

Then the girl begins to sing.

A golden-orange glow glides down her hair, brighter than the purest amber. When it reaches his hands, a sudden warmth surges through him. A warmth unlike anything he’s ever known.

He leans into it, feeling like he’s stepping into the sunlight for the very first time.

“Flower gleam and glow Let your powers shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine

Heal what has been hurt Change the fates’ design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine What once was mine” 

Her words are haunting, making him feel an emotion he finds he doesn’t quite have a name for.

The glow fades as the girl finishes, and she delicately pulls her hair away. The rabbit perks up, long ears sticking high in the air and nose wriggling curiously. The cuts on her side have completely vanished, any trace of red seeming to have been carried away with the winter breeze.

She hops out of Jack’s hands and bounds cheerfully away, eyes bright and eager again. In moments, the icy stream, the cold winter spirit hands, and the sharp icicles appear to have been completely forgotten.

“You…saved her.” He looks up at the girl in wonder. “From…from me.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “No, we saved her. I saw what you did with the ice dam. She would have drowned if not for you.”

“Only because I spooked her and made her fall in in the first place,” he mutters.

“Because you were trying to make the ice thicker so she could cross,” the girl says gently. “You were only trying to help.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, and look how well that went.”

Her smile widens, and Jack could swear he picks up just the slightest hint of a smirk in it. “She’s alive, isn’t she? I’d call that a net success.”

“Only thanks to you,” he mumbles.

He looks over her, and he finds his curiosity gets the better of him. She may be strange, but he can’t help but be intrigued. “Who are you, anyways?”

Her face falls suddenly, pink-purple dress seeming to sag like wilting flowers. “You mean you don’t know?”

He gazes at her, puzzled. “Should I?”

She stops and thinks on this for several moments before finally shaking her head. “No…no, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“How can you see me?”

She looks taken aback for a period before smiling sadly. For just a moment, she looks like she might be on the verge of tears.

She appears contemplative, like she’s choosing her words carefully. Finally she says, with the air of holding quite a bit back, “I’m a spirit too.”

“A spirit? A…Guardian?” He suddenly backs away, growing wary of her.

My replacement…

“Well, no…not exactly.” She looks away, frowning. “I help them sometimes, when they need it. But I’m not…one of them. I’m Rapunzel,” she adds, looking back at him and smiling warmly.

“Jack Frost,” he mumbles, not sure how to response to this entire situation. Never, not once in his 300 years of existence, has someone just…come up and cordially introduced themselves to him.

It’s amusing, really. Something that must seem so mundane to all the people he sees walking about the streets of the towns and cities he wanders through seems completely alien to him.

“I know. I’ve been watching you.”

He gives her a strange look, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes widening.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…! That must sound so creepy! I wasn’t—gosh, I didn’t mean to be following you around! I’m so sorry!”

She buries her face in her hands, as if slowly realizing the size of the hole she’s dug herself into.

Jack can’t help but chuckle at the utter unexpectedness of the entire scenario. “I don’t think it’s creepy. Just…strange. I mean, why would you want to trail me?”

She peeks at him from between her fingers, expression shy. “I see those frost patterns you leave on the trees. They’re beautiful. I…did accidentally melt a few, though.”

She looks away again, embarrassed. He remembers her hand recoiling after touching his frost the other day, her gasp of horror. He thought she’d been appalled by the freezing cold…but perhaps she had only been dismayed she had started to melt it.

The thought that someone appreciated his work was more comforting than she knew.

He looks over her and something suddenly clicks in his mind—the ice-melting hands and feet, the flower-colored dress, the life-giving healing hair, the light green eyes. “You’re a spring spirit,” he realizes.

She smiles at him, shrugging. “I am, but…I think all of the seasons are beautiful. I love yours, too. I came out a bit earlier than I was supposed to so I could have a look at everything you’ve done. It’s gorgeous.”

If Jack Frost still had color in his skin, he’s sure he’d be blushing. How embarrassing.

He tries his best to deflect the compliment, smirking at her instead. “Oh, what gave away that I was a winter spirit?”

She smirks right back at him. “Oh, nothing, really. Just a shot in the dark.”

It’s a moment before it dawns on him that she hasn’t started to retreat after she finished her healing. She hasn’t apprehensively scooted away from the protruding ice spines, hasn’t eyed him with the same careful fear as someone creeping past a chained beast that could rip free at any time and lunge. If anything, she’s made herself more comfortable next to him—hugging her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her hands and regarding him thoughtfully.

She’s just naïve, he thinks bitterly. She’ll find out soon enough that all I can do is hurt people. She can’t fight my nature any more than I can.

Nonetheless, the girl seems kind, if lacking somewhat in worldly wisdom. He hates the thought of anything bad happening to her.

“I’m surprised you let yourself get so close,” he says, the implied warning clear in his voice. “You know…considering all this.”

He gestures at his torso, sweeping a hand in front of his lower chest to show off an especially honed row of icicles. Rapunzel seems unfazed.

“I’m not worried,” she says nonchalantly. “I think I can manage to not get close enough to jab myself.”

“But what if I got closer to you?” he retorts. “What if I attacked you? You know, getting cut with these, it wouldn’t be…” He trails off, unsure what he’s trying to say. “Just…you shouldn’t trust so easily, Rapunzel. I could hurt you.”

She shrugs, looking almost annoyingly unperturbed. Smiling, she holds up a lock of blonde hair.

“I have this, remember? I think I can handle myself fine. Besides…” Her eyes soften. “You don’t seem like the type who wants to hurt people. You just seem…lonely. And sad.”

He bristles suddenly, alarmed. This girl he barely knows, who he met mere minutes ago…how had she pegged him so entirely?

“How can you know that?” he asks, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

She smiles again, and this time, there’s something bittersweet about it. “Well…if you wanted to hurt people, you wouldn’t try and make the winter beautiful just because you can. You’d make it angry, destructive. But you wouldn’t find ways to make it into art.”

He sighs, looking away. “Those gashes on the rabbit…you know those were because of me, right? I…I didn’t mean to hurt her, but stuff like that just…happens, if you’re around me. When I try to help.”

“But you were trying to help,” she says, without missing a beat. “And that’s what matters to me.”

“So stupid,” Pitch whispers in his mind. “So tragically, trustingly stupid. People who try to see the good in monsters are only going to get devoured in the end. When she succumbs to some tragic demise, there will be nothing to blame but her own bleeding-hearted naivety.”

She makes no move to distance herself from him. No move to flee from the obvious danger. If anything…he swears he can see her inching closer.

He looks back at her, eyes growing as cold as the ice he trails throughout the forest.

“You’re making a mistake,” he says harshly. “It’s not safe around me. You want to end up like…”

Like the squirrel?

He stops short, finding himself reluctant to spill the details of the incident…no matter how relevant.

Perhaps, he finds himself thinking, she doesn’t need to know. Not yet.

Idiot. Of course she needs to know. How else will she see what abominations you’re capable of?

“…marred like that rabbit?” he says instead.

Of course you pick the story with the happy ending. Of course you pick the comparison that could persuade her to stay. What on earth makes you think she’d want to, anyhow?

“I’ll take my chances,” she says softly.

Jack hates himself for the unadulterated exhilaration that courses through him.

What the hell is wrong with you?! You shouldn’t want her to stay! She’ll get impaled in the end somehow, and it’ll be all your fault…

“You look like you need a friend, Jack Frost,” she adds, eyeing him sympathetically. “No one deserves to be alone.”

He thinks of a man cloaked in black, and he looks away guiltily.

“I do have a friend,” he argues. “And he says…he says no one else would want to be my friend. He hasn’t been proven wrong yet.”

She scowls deeply—an expression that looks almost amusingly out-of-place on such an innocent, serene face, he thinks.

“That doesn’t sound like a very good friend, if he tells you things like that,” she retorts.

He shrugs, trying his best to look indifferent. “It’s all I know. It’s better than being alone.”

“Well, then maybe it’s time for you to know something better.” She brightens up again, the frown flitting away as quickly as it had come. “You think you could use another friend?”

She gazes expectantly at him with those big green eyes of hers, and he feels a prick of annoyance at how convincing she’s being. It’s an offer that’s hard to refuse, he has to admit.

In a heartbeat, the Nightmare King is back, whispering doubts into his mind. Telling him it’ll only end in disappointment and abandonment and being alone once again.

For once, Jack ignores it.

“It’s at your own risk,” he says simply.

“I can live with that.” Rapunzel shrugs. “Will I see you again?”

His lips, long-since blue and frosted over, form the tiniest hint of a smile. “I think you will.”

[uswnt5]

i’m back and boy do i have things to say. buckle up it’s a loooooong one

first off, an i cannot stress this enough, fuck Merritt Paulson. that’s it, that’s the tweet. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

don’t worry i’ll get to THAT. but first, not taking Brianna Visalli or Ally Prisock? dumb moves LV, but not the first of the night tbh. like not even one of them? Kizer is good, but a rookie with no experience at all? would love to know the train of thought on that one. unsurprised by Sky Blue and North Carolina (should’ve protected Merrick imo), good picks though. bit confused by Spirit, would’ve gone for Dougherty-Howard young but experienced, but they picked two rookies instead so we clearly aren’t valuing having any actual playing experience in LV. we only care about height for a 6’1 keeper but ok.

a rookie defender from the Reign and Michelle Betos. again so much better talent to take from Reign and you took a rookie who you *think* will come back from Sweden. she probably will but i would’ve taken someone in their mid 20s who had experience for you to build around and is already proven considering all the rookies you’ve already taken. and a keeper who just tore her acl?? idk when Betos will be ready but you now get to choose between a rookie keeper and an injured keeper when you could’ve taken Britt Eckerstrom and a different player from Reign (Rosie White, Jasmyn Spencer, Taylor Smith) . sidenote wonder who Reigns new international keeper will be now that they don’t have any lol.

Orlando. oof. not much to choose from i know, but like two Aussies? after the great Aussie nwsl exodus? i know Foord has a relationship with the coach, but she’s loving Arsenal and Lia Walti and i don’t think she’s planning on returning soon. Alanna Kennedy could also very well stay overseas especially if she doesn’t want to move, staying overseas looking more attractive in my opinion. wouldve looked at Pickett or Konya Plummer but it seems LV is pulling a Hail Mary and crossing their fingers about them coming back to the league (and other *side eye*). not to mention UK is closer to AUS and with them having the WC in 2023 i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s another reason they stayed in europe.

Press, unsurprising i think we all saw that coming. Utah just looks like it’s sinking and nobody is throwing a line out to help. willing to bet you don’t see Vero come back, maybe even Gunny with how things are going.

ok here we go. i will preface this by saying i have been a Thorns fan from the start, so this is devastating. my heart really does hurt, and seeing fans be so disgusted with the Thorns front office? deserved. i don’t think anyone really expected it to happen with the talent Portland left available. i mean considering LV’s entire team is rookies you’d think they would throw some experienced players in there, you know ones who will actually come play for you? Tobin not being a Thorn anymore just doesn’t seem real or right, and maybe that’s dramatic, but more than literally anyone else on that team, she IS Portland. this is a player who dedicated her entire career to helping build this club, and the way everything went down this year, dirty. having stated on multiple occasions (literally a month ago too) that Portland and the Thorns are her home, she had every intention of going back and playing there. now she won’t even get a proper sendoff? and Paulson is going to make statements that she’s irreplaceable? then get her back you dumb fucking idiot. i KNOW there is a long game here but Portland couldve waited for this exact thing to happen next year with LA, which it probably would’ve, and given a proper sendoff to the player who has been the heart of your team from its start. we’ll never know, but some back door deal could’ve and should’ve been made to leave her, especially with who else was available, but LV/Portland just uprooted a settled 30 year old life and i’m not ok with that. if they don’t at BARE minimum retire #17, oof, prepare for a riot.

i hope Tobin stays in Manchester until at least december 2021 and doesn’t report after the Olympics. i would even be down with a permanent move to the wsl as a fuck you to the nwsl. this draft reminded me of how disgusting it is that the NWSL does not give players autonomy of their own careers, jerking them around without any care for their feelings or lives. you cannot claim to be the best league in the world and then treat players this way. nobody can tell me Tobin is thrilled about this at the end of the day, even if she’ll get to play with Press, she just lost the home and team she spent years building and probably thought she’d end her career with that’s got to be devastating. furthermore, LV currently using the two of them as clickbait knowing the chances of them ever reporting there are about as likely as Donald Trump getting elected for a second bc ‘voter fraud’? fucking gross. Christy Holly was problematic af when he coached before, you think they want to go from Casey Stoney to that? absolutely fucking doubt it.

currently: really unhappy, very sad, also angry. thanks for reading and would love your thoughts and sorry for all the cursing

I love cursing, don’t ever apologize for that! I’m sorry you’re hurting, too. It’s awful to see it go down like this. The problem is, there really wasn’t another way. Crystal got her wish so essentially they had to give up Tobin. I think they were banking on putting enough talent out there to distract Louisville into taking other players but alas, it didn’t work.

I’ve said earlier but I’ll say again, this hurts, but at the end of the day, at least Tobin and Christen get to go through this experience together and it’s not one left having to deal with it while the other has a safety net. They are each others safety nets now and that’s a cool thing. 

When it comes down to it, I think them staying in Manchester until Dec 2021 is exactly what they’ll do. That’ll give them time to come back to the states for the holidays and settle into LA (if they get that move), get a house there, and start ramping up media for the inaugural season. Fans want it. I really do think it’ll happen. I mean, look at the Rebellion 99 watch parties that they already have for CP and she’s not even an LA player yet. They simple LOVE their hometown girl. 

T&C and the first overall pic in 2022 for Louisville exemption like @xowoso said seems pretty spot on to me. 

For now, lets all just take a breath and thank our lucky stars that they are playing in Manchester right now and not actually having to make a 2020 decision about agreeing to go to Louisville. Let’s see where this WSL season ends up and if they can get into UCL before we stress too much. They’re happy and thriving together and I think we should hold onto that for now. 

And if it makes you feel better, maybe sleep in your Tobin Thorns jersey tonight. 

[hollywoodx4]

You all asked for another set of my trash human Hadestown hot takes so.....

I think maybe I should just start from the beginning and go from there, and sprinkle some details in when I think about them. And since you’ve mentioned before that detail is a good thing, I’m going to try really hard to articulate the 500 versions of “I can’t” and “She did that” and “UM” and “GIRL” Also as always, I apologize, but this is honestly a lot of Eva and Reeve heavy content. I love all of the cast, they are all so phenomenally talented and wonderful, but as usual my mind has chosen to hyper-focus on two things so this is what it is.)

(So. I’m thankful for this platform because before my notes were ALL “Um” and “Girl” and now you guys are motivating me to actually write what I’ve been thinking about non-stop all day on my one hour of sleep. So. Thank you! I went about labeling every song-and I actually end up having thoughts for every one, because I went back and listened through and wrote down what I could remember/the things I thought were relevant for the people that won’t be able to see it outside of the boot that literally everyone but me has at this point).

This is only act I. This is a loooooong hot take. This is a lot of Eva and Reeve specific commentary. This is just a lot of commentary. I think it’d be cool/beneficial/whatever to listen as you read? LOL thanks for coming to my actual, legitimate 5 page essay on Act I.

So. My overarching thought of the night (and, actually, I think I mentioned this when I was there two weeks ago too) is that Eva has been playing an incredibly soft Eurydice lately. Compared to when I was there for previews in April, or even back in August, it seems like each time I’ve gone back she just gets softer and softer, and it’s made me so incredibly happy to see her characterization grow. I do see Eurydice as someone who has been through a lot, and does have that tougher skin, and I think that Eva does a fantastic job in representing that in Any Way the Wind Blows. She keeps her voice strong and consistent, and has this look on her face that’s a cross between worry, wavering confidence, and just this tough shell of a girl who’s trying not to look like she’s given up. And this works so incredibly well when she meets Orpheus. Because I’m telling you, the flip in her demeanor happens in the most noticeably beautiful way during Wedding Song. But first, let’s talk about the fact that I’m not sure who decided that it’d be a good idea that Eva play with fire during this song, and aesthetically it’s just such a MOMENT to see Eurydice looking bored, head down on her arms on the table, eyes wide and uninterested/exhausted/hungry as she runs each of her fingers through the flame (and, at times, pauses to inspect the finger she’s just put into the fire, rub it against another finger or the table, and then begin her game again) I don’t know why this has become one of my favorite things about the staging but? I imagine this being something Eurydice just does sometimes to keep herself from thinking about how hungry she is, and it becomes a habit so that in the iteration where they both make it out of Hadestown and live happily ever after Eurydice just does this one time and makes poor Orpheus jump out of his skin worried that she’s somehow going to send herself back down by doing this. Because they still are walking on eggshells about the fact that they made it out and here she is playing with fire, LITERALLY. Okay, moving on....

So. What I like about Wedding Song live is that her speaking voice just. It’s a bit higher, softer. She still carries the teasing tone, but there’s just this incredulous lift in “is he always like this?” and a lot of laughter in “Oooh, he’s crazy.” and Reeve plays Orpheus so sweet and innocent that you can’t help but feel bad for this bumbling idiot stumbling over himself at this beautiful girl sitting there looking completely cool and collected. But. There’s a beautiful thing about the composition and balance Eva is able to maintain in that you can see that Eurydice is openly intrigued, but keeps herself guarded in a playful sort of way. Almost like she can’t keep herself guarded and wants to let her guard down. Her smile kills me over and over again during this scene. Again, Eva’s Eurydice has turned into quite the small, beautiful romantic and I just am so in love with everything that she has subtly changed and morphed, the girl is an absolute QUEEN.

Also, I can’t go any further without saying a big THANKS to Eva for making me cry the SECOND I heard her start to sing Any Way the Wind Blows and just continue that train all night long. What a fucking night.

Okay, so my favorite thing about Epic I is the sheer power that small boy Orpheus has in singing his la laas for the first time. I remember distinctly having the most goosebumps the first time I witnessed this back in April, and every single time it just. Leaves me breathless. And I think now that it’s been a few times, the goosebumps come from knowing how significant this melody will be throughout the show. But Reeve’s facial expressions as he sings them? Make you believe that la is the most important syllable in the dictionary. He closes his eyes and just feels the music and plays his guitar and he is just so phenomenally talented that WOW. Also my favorite small part of this song is that during my favorite line “with them the cycle of the seed and the sickle, etc.” he spins in circles while playing and singing and just. It’s the smallest amount of choreography that feels the most necessary, as if it’s Orpheus becoming so enraptured with the music that he has to move! And it’s in the middle of the tables that are in the “bar,” with the workers and Eurydice looking on and watching him tell this tale. It all feels so incredibly genuine-it makes you believe that Orpheus singing to the workers is something they’ve witnessed, almost something they look forward to when they come to the bar. I think it has to do with the fact that they’re all just watching him, intrigued but also settled in? As if this is routine, this is comfort, his songs are meant for them and for this little community he has. Even when he plays the first note of the Epic they’ve settled in and are sitting up watching him and listening intently. It gives his character a lot of soft power and dynamic without having to say anything, establishing him as an integral part of this life without so much as a word.

Uhhh Living it Up On Top is just my most favorite feel-good bop. Why? Because of the ensamble. Watching them dance is a blessing. It honestly feels like watching a fucking family reunion freestyle dance party every single time. You can physically see and feel how close this cast is; they make faces at each other, they laugh, and also this instrumental break included the Eva Noblezada booty drop which is EVERYTHING. And she also did a full leg extension kick this time which. Girl. Save some talent and cuteness for everyone else. I also find it extremely appropriate that during all of this kickass dancing and partying our boy Orpheus in all of his gangly, limbly qualities can be found sort of flitting around the stage, taking Persephone’s coat, then Eurydice’s, then putting things away and moving around giving out the cups to toast- like. It’s lowkey established in this scene that he’s 10/10 not the cool and effortless one in this relationship and is the cute small boy child. And I don’t know if that’s because I think that Eva’s really cool and charismatic and Reeve is a bit more shy in a crowd situation, but that’s 100% how this comes off to me/how I perceive the characterization and I’m here for it. And when the line “to the patroness of all of this, Persephone” came up Reeve was like 10 octaves higher than the cast recording, all squeaky and flustered. And then between that and his next line, he took a breath and smiled the big stupid baby Orpheus smile that makes him so charming-if you weren’t rooting for him before now you’re messed, but after the smile? And the high-toned, flustered rambling toast? Makes it impossible not to love him. (Also “to the world we dream about…” is my most favorite Hadestown quote so. I choked because every time I hear it, especially as genuine and sweet as Reeve says it as he looks out at the crowd, and then at the audience, is just. It makes you feel the reality that this show crosses with its messages and its story as a whole). And then after they drink their toast they all sputter and cough, and then the ending when they all sing “HOW ARE WE LIVING IT” it literally is so powerful and dynamic, I love this ensemble so fucking much. Their energy truly fuels the show. We are blessed.

OOOOHKAY CHILDREN BUCKLE UP FOR ME BEING DECEASED. Because All I’ve Ever Known? Um Eva, what the fuck? In a good way. In the way that the second she started singing I started crying immediately. Because I’ll say it again, she’s just become so soft and romantic that I can’t even handle it. The distinct memory I have from this song (where I literally almost hit my cousin because I went from heart-eyed staring with no breathing and my head in my hands like the stupid hopeless baby lesbian that I am to breathing everything in all at once and coughing a BIG cough of just. Literally just love.) During “You take me in your arms, and suddenly there’s sunlight all around me” Orpheus holds Eurydice with her back to him, and she opens her arms and sings about the sunlight. And I fucking SWEAR TO GOD the smile on her face. Like. Big, wide, eyes closed, you’d 100% fall in love with her the second you saw it too. I don’t know how you couldn’t. She just looks so incredibly happy and peaceful and this is the moment she completely drops her guard (although I’ll say that I believe a lot of it is dropped earlier along. But this moment is a transcendental experience) OH ALSO during the violin instrumental she literally does this like. Handstand split Over Reeve’s head that is so poetically beautiful (that entire choreography is, like. It really just makes the love feel so incredibly palpable, and the fact that this is the turning point of moments where suddenly there are NO MOMENTS where they’re not all over each other is just. It’s a moment.) And then they kiss and it’s flawless and I sob profusely at how beautifully done this entire choreography/moment/existence of two souls happens.

Way Down Hadestown also includes two of my favorite moments; Amber Gray dancing with her body at a 90 degree angle, head looking at the floor, and Orpheus and Eurydice peacing out and sitting to the side sharing a bar stool unable to keep themselves away from each other. Which. Is everything to the point where I literally told my cousin to watch them during this song. Because. His ear kisses (which. I hyperventilated about for like 3 paragraphs back in the beginning of October) are SO MUCH (so tender. So soft. The brushing back of the hair over her ears and the soft spoken words and the head on her head make me want to careen into an abyss and fall in love immediately) but I love them with all of my heart, he is so soft and gentle and it literally feels like such a moment being intruded upon that this is the way these two characters were meant to be played and I will accept nothing else. Also, Eva’s little minor chord, jazzy vocal moment during the last “way down under the GROOOOOOOUND is so beautifully done, I can’t believe she exists and just acts like it’s not a big deal that she can just. Be that good. And I also love the way that this moment is staged; Hades and Persephone are standing on the center turntable, and at those last few “way down, Hadestown, way down under the ground” after “kind of makes you wonder how it feels,” right when it kicks back into the faster tempo the turntable starts to descend. And there’s some fog, and they all stand and watch them go under the ground, and when Eurydice sings the last “way down under…she moves closer to the now hole in the ground and looks deeper, as if she’s so curious as to what is going on.

A Gathering Storm/Epic II I just like that in the OBC recording, Eurydice sounds kind of salty when she says “well, until someone brings the world back into tune, this is how it is.” But I think that it’s perceived more as a kind of matter-of-fact thing, as if watching Persephone descend has brought her back into her shell a little bit, set off some anxieties. She shrugs her shoulders and looks complacent, as if to tell him without as many words that she’s done this before, this is old news, this is going to happen. And when he says “he came for her too soon,” it’s rushed and quiet, but frantic, as if the entire weight of the situation immediately has been cast on his shoulders. And for the most part, that’s all I’ve got for him. The real superstar in this scene is the fucking imagery used to introduce the workers, and the symbolism of the workers AS THE WALL.  So, when he says “With a million hands, he built a wall” the workers ascend from the center turntable in that really tight knit formation we’ve all seen pictures of and it’s just. Watching them in their uniforms come up as he’s talking about this big, brilliant wall and the workers begin to move in unison, then begin their chanting???? The lighting changes, the entire feel changes just based on the workers chanting and really having this ferociously unified choreography. And the most intense facial expressions ever. And they move from the center turntable to the outsides, and then fucking Hades and Persephone come up when the transition happens to Chant and it’s. All you need to completely transform a set is the lighting change, the workers, and the turntable. It’s the most incredible thing to witness this and feel like you’re in a completely different place.

Also, I just always feel for Eurydice in this moment. Because. She’s trying so hard to communicate with Orpheus, who’s standing at the bar stool they’d had their moment at during Way Down Hadestown writing this song, and you can see that she’s trying to be supportive but when she says “is he always like this?” it’s just. Exhaustion. And she says it so much more quiet and defeated than she does on the OBC. It’s heartbreaking. Because at the same point you’re watching Orpheus struggle to write this song, closing his eyes and tapping his feet and just trying to feel and let that feeling translate him into the rest of this song but it just won’t come, and you can see his growing frustration in his furrowed brow and his closed eyes. What I noticed is that during Eva’s little solos “Trying to trust that the song he’s working on is gonna shelter us…” / “I’m trying to believe that the song he’s working on is gonna harbor me from the wind” She hasn’t gone up on the last little phrase like she does on the OBC, which is one of the things I find to be so powerful on the OBC. And it’s still beautiful, but I’m wondering why she’s seemingly been choosing to go down instead of have that little moment of vocal power. OH ALSO. When she says “Give that back! It’s everything we have!” Her voice was BROKEN. And by that I mean she sounded so worried and devastated that. It just. Her voice was cracking as she pleaded for the fates to leave her alone and it was so immensely wonderful, but heartbreaking. Because as she struggles with the fates and their winds, and they rip her possessions from her one by one, she shrinks further into herself as she tries to buck up and continue fighting. But you can see as each thing gets taken (her backpack, her coat, etc) she grows more and more devastated and frightened. And then when they take her jacket, and she has nothing left, and she sings “SHEEEELTER US, HAAAARBOR ME!” She’s on her knees with her head in her hands, rocking back and forth and it is torturous to witness because you just want to cry for her. And Eva’s such a fucking powerhouse that you can feel the raw emotion, the fear and the devastation, and it just consumes. It’s amazing to be broken by Eva Noblezada over and over again, and that’s what she does this entire show. She is phenomenal.

Hey, Little Songbird is a song I don’t really have a lot of notes for. But the one note I do have is that Patrick Page makes everyone so in awe and also slightly frightened or incredibly woke (the amount of small whispers in the audience that compare him to a certain man of political power are to be expected, but always are significant) He also just. Skeeves me out so much in this song, and Eurydice is so broken already that it’s kind of like. She’s resigned and having trouble making sense out of anything that life has just thrown at her, and she keeps going to hold herself because she’s cold and hungry and tortured, and she just. Honestly, she makes the choice seem like one that Eurydice had to make because she looks so lost and hungry and upset and unable to hold herself up anymore that the choice doesn’t seem like a misguided one.

When the Chips are Down If I could have as much talent in my body as these girls have in their pinky finger I’d be set for life. Also, now’s a good time to mention that I had the extreme pleasure of seeing Jessie Shelton step in as a fate and it just. It was a wonderful experience, that girl is incredible. I saw her in August as Eurydice and she did a fantastic job (my only note back then had been that her chemistry with Reeve hadn’t been as strong, but I loved what she did with Eurydice-making her more badass and thick-skinned and over-it and also I genuinely don’t think that the Reeve-Eva chemistry can be matched.) But the flawless nature of these three souls singing together and just. Being the shit-eating-grin, fun to fuck you up, take no prisoners voices inside of your head? It just furthers the interpretation that they are the voices in your head amplified, because while they’re sort of doing their mockery of Eurydice/pushing her for her choice/etc. she covers her ears at one point they’re taunting her and it just. It feels to me as they’re pushing her around that they’re the personification of the battle inside of her heart as well, and she can’t escape the turmoil.

Gone, I’m Gone Me crying because I knew Wait for Me was coming so I was digging through my bag for my tissues and gently laying some on my cousin’s lap. (she hadn’t done a full listen-through of Hadestown before either, so I just. Gently prepared her for what was to come without saying a single word.

Wait for Me Okay, how detailed can I go? I don’t know how to fully capture the immense, all-encompassing, my heart is literally stopped inside of my chest but also full-on beating heavy as possible feeling. The second the first notes started the tears started pouring. I have such a fond memory of seeing this for the first time that every time afterward, I just. MY body kicks into this mode of complete and utter captivation. I’m also an empath so getting to experience a room full of people on the edge of their seats, dead silence, utter captivation and zero breath…..I will never forget this feeling. When I saw Hadestown back in April while it was still in previews, this song was given a 3 minute standing ovation….everyone was just struck and unable to handle the raw emotion. And it still rings true to this day-I was clutching my tissue with such force, watching the lights swing and the workers and their lamps through my tears. The most powerful moment is when the workers come out with their headlamps, and it gets dark-you wonder where you’re being transported to next. It’s a tethering atmosphere. And then, when they plug the lamps in and send them up? When the lamps begin swinging and their lights swing over the audience, casting this brilliant movement and shadow into the air? It holds so much mystery and hope and it gives off this incredible, indescribable power. And the power of the chorus singing along with him? It doesn’t feel like they’re the workers singing along. It feels like Orpheus’s love is so strong and so powerful that the workers are actually just his voice amplifying and exploding and CAREENING AND CREATING ALL OF THIS FUCKING POWER FROM HIS SONG AND HIS LOVE. And also, during the la la las around 1:40 on the OBC recording, when it gets soft and quiet, that’s when the lamps go up into the air, and there’s a rumbling and some fog and the set sort of opens up to reveal sections of bright lights that glow warm, and red. He’s opening the fucking stone wall with his song, people, and it’s the most brilliantly moving staging I have ever seen. Again, you don’t need one million props to captivate an audience. It’s the way the story is told and the music is composed and everything working together. I love this. I love that nothing distracts from the moment, that the las and the workers elevating his voice and the movement of the set and the lights and the fog all come together as one coherent set piece instead of parts of a working machine. It feels so natural that you believe that Orpheus is actually opening the wall with his voice. This piece of theatre is so transcendental that you forget that you’re not actually there. Props to Reeve Carney for existing because the way he performs this song is just so captivating and pure, and you can see the desperation in his eyes but you can also hear it in his voice; it’s more strained (not in a bad or unhealthy way at all, I just mean that it’s like. The culmination of his efforts from the Epic and how hard he was concentrating have elevated his power and he’s just fully unleashing it) You can physically see what I believe-that this strain, this hurt and this hope and this desperation are what lead him to opening the wall. He was able to do it because as he was singing, he was clearly just hurt and so damn determined that he just. He had this red-cheeked, hard-lipped expression while he sang and his body (which I lovingly describe as gangly and limbly) is just. In a power stance. Like. You fully believe in the power of this man during this song, he gives it everything and he is a good portion of the reason it carries its power so immensely through the audience. There’s not a dry eye in the house after. And what I love is the collective, disbelieving mumblings of “oh my god” or “wow” or “he’s incredible” that echo through the room as the applause happens (and lingers, and lingers, until Why We Build the Wall cues us to take a fucking breath) (and the subsequent chatter of people basically asking if what they just watched was real, unable to not mention it during intermission).

Why We Build the Wall This is another one of my all-time favorite Hadestown songs. It just hits so hard. And for a while in the very beginning, I wondered why they didn’t end Act I with Wait for Me. I understand now. I don’t think I fully appreciated this song during my first few listen-throughs, and possibly not even after the first time I saw it. I think that this song deserves to be there because while Wait for Me has a lot of emotional lift and power and just pure mass to it, Why We Build the Wall holds its power differently. It makes the audience kind of shift in their seats, come back to the world we are in, kind of step back from the beautiful show of powerful love and hope and dedication that is Wait for Me and remember that oh, this is what’s going on on the other side. This is the man that’s trying to take everything away from Orpheus. And Patrick Page is such a gently commanding presence during this song-he is strong, and powerful, but in a way that feels scarily easy to him; like he is so confident in his power that it translates to this easy, call-and-response conversation because he knows his workers have no choice but to answer him and to appease him. Also the workers? In this song? Are a sheer force of nature. They look to the audience as they respond to each phrase Hades sings with these set-in-stone, serious, hardened expressions that match each other, and are perfectly in-synch. That’s what terrifies me about the Workers, is that they are so in tune to each other that it truly is like watching a wall, or a well-oiled machine. They do such a beautiful job in creating this sense of unease that this song was absolutely meant to be the ending of act I; they drive you to tears and ferocious emotion with Wait for Me, but they keep you unsettled and uncomfortable and stirred by Why We Build the Wall. And that, my friends, is why this musical was nominated for and won so many Tony’s. Because of it’s ability to make you feel, to ponder and to talk and to interpret. This show is so unique, and wonderful, and full of incredible things that I am always just in awe of it every time I see it.

Carry-Over notes: I skipped around a lot of my notes from the night of the show just because I couldn’t fit the less articulate with my actual thoughts post-show. I listened to the entirety of Act I while doing this, and took notes to the best of my ability and what I could remember.

·        Eva Noblezada is such a soft human being, she is a treasure to this earth and I fully support everything she’s done with Eurydice thus far; soft doesn’t mean weak, and she translates that really well to the way she chooses to carry her. She is a strong woman, but she is so fucking in love that she is also so soft and pure. But you still wouldn’t fuck her up ever

·        A good chunk of my notes from that night are about how Reeve singing the la laas in Epic I is a transcending experience, and how his soft and genuine and gentle expression made me break down immediately, and it can be felt in your soul.

·        I also mention about 100 times that Reeve is 10/10 the only boy who has my heart because he is so artistically passionate and just really really fucking good at what he does (and so, so soft especially in the Orphrydice moments and what I’m calling his making Orpheus canonically obsessed with kissing Eurydice’s ear/side of cheek/neck it is THE SOFTEST MOST PURE THING)

So sorry. This is the longest of ramblings. But you asked for details and honestly I’m really excited to be able to have these long ass notes to save and keep with my playbills to show in the future with my kids or the patrons of the Broadway themed café I want to open when I’m a mid 40s lesbian with a wife and maybe some adopted kids.

[wyofabdoms]

Te Briirud - Chapter 2 “A Debt Paid”

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: Alani has spent her whole life simply surviving. The kindness and gift of an old man on a desolate Outer Rim planet sets her life on a collision course with her past and will completely change her future, and the future of Mandalore.

Rating: Mature (Eventual Smut)

Warnings: Implied/referenced child abuse/sexual abuse, long-lost friendship, eventual romance, eventual smut, loooooong, slow burn, friends to lovers, reunions, referenced child injury, nightmares, Season 1 canonical violence

Word Count: 2032

Notes: This is going to take a while to completely finish, but I wanted to get initial reaction. It will eventually be a love story with OFC and Din, but it will most definitely be a slow burn as our protagonist won't even cross paths Din for several chapters. Yet!  But the smex and fluff is coming I promise, stick with me!

Just building a little background here, folks.

Read on Ao3

It had happened. She found it hard to believe it, but...the old man had been right.  

She had headed out to the old homestead just as the first of the sister suns’ rays topped the horizon.  Both suns were low in the sky by the time she crested a ridge looking down on the humble dauble dwelling.  She was always cautious, of course, when approaching given the numerous security measures he had placed around the home.  She knew that others had come here, too snooping around for something to scavenge or for information on the mysterious hermit.  Occasionally she would spot dark blaster streaks along the sides of the house where someone had tried without success to take out whatever power source was maintaining the security features and tracks in the sand never made it any closer than 30 meters anywhere around the perimeter.

Until today, apparently.

She spotted the astromech outside the entrance first.  His domed head swiveled back and forth often, scanning no doubt.  She was fairly sure she was out of its range, but just to be safe, she carefully retreated back down the ridge and hiked along the trail bed to climb a rock formation overlooking most of the craggy peaks surrounding the home.  She pulled out a pair of macrobinoculaurs and returned her careful consideration to the little blue and white domed head.  As she watched carefully, a shadow fell across the doorway and then that shadow morphed into a hooded figure dressed entirely in black.  Alani gasped as the sight of what he was carrying.

It was the old carved wooden box that the old man had kept so secret from her.  He had only opened it once, to retrieve the weapon that hung at her side now, concealed beneath her tunic.  

He had told her all those years ago that someday...when the time was right, someone would come and retrieve that box and it’s contents.  At that time he had made her promise: if anything ever happened to him or if he disappeared, he needed her to keep an eye on his home and the box inside until either he or that person arrived.  When she had inquired as to how she was supposed to know if it was the “right” person, he had merely fixed her with that gray-blue gaze of his, the small smile on his wizened face drawing out the deepened age wrinkles around his eyes.  

“They’ll have gotten in.”  He had said simply, as though it was the easiest answer to ever give.

She had forgotten about that promise until the day that she had ridden out to see him, bringing out a small bin of supplies to keep the old man in good shape.  She could still smell the ozone and hear the sizzle from the security measures that had been put in place.  He had told her how to unarm the protocols, but when she had gotten closer to his home it exuded lifelessness. The gated fence keeping his small family of eopies corralled swung open on its hinges, tack and saddle still hanging in their place...the animals had been released.  She had found the little food he had stored in his cupboards starting to turn bad dread flared in her stomach when she had seen his day pack still hanging on the hook by the door; typically when he would go out on an 

She had found the holo-disc laying on the center table as she had started exiting the hovel.  It had taken a few days to find a device to play the message on.  When she had made it in to Tosche Station she had convinced the attendant to let her use his mech droid for an extra two credits.  The dread transformed to sadness when his tiny, flickering blue image had hastily confirmed what she had already inferred.  

The old man was gone.

That had been over three years ago.  

Now, she watched carefully as the figure in black carefully placed the box on a work pad on the ground next to the droid and settled themselves onto the ground, carefully running their hands along the edges of the box.  They opened it and pulled out what, from this distance, appeared to be a holocube, which was inserted into the droid and a small image projected on the ground before the hooded person.  She clicked her macros back on and zeroed in on the tiny speck of hologram.  Though difficult to make out despite the magnification, she could just make out the old man.  The image shook suddenly as the little droid rocked frantically from side to side, his dome spinning as the figure in black stood slowly and turned towards her position on the ridge line.  Though she couldn’t see their face beneath the deep shadow of the hood, she could sense their gaze searching the horizon for her...no, not searching.  They could see her somehow.  She was certain.  Even though she knew she was well hidden and out of range of that droid...This person knew she was there.  Just like the old man had always known, too.

He was one, too.

A Jedi.

She felt a cold thread slither down her back as she remembered some of the stories the old man had told her.  He had never been very chatty, but once in a while she would catch him on a good day and he would talk more than usual.

She shifted her position slowly and ducked down behind a boulder, her hand brushing along the outline of the weapon hanging at her waist as she did so.

“This is a unique weapon,” he had rumbled all those days ago.  “Even I haven’t been all that successful in learning to use it properly.  The story says that it seeks its owner without fail and recognizes when it is in the hands of one who is worthy...one who can master its skill.”  

She had stared down at the gleaming item, knowing the worth and value of the material with which it was made.  Whispers in cantinas and along the smuggler and trade routes about how much even a few measly grams of this alloy could garner for someone was well known, was the stuff of legends.  

When she had tossed it only moments prior, blade side out, she had only been trying to scare off the raiders that were attempting to steal water from the hovel’s corral.  She was stunned when the item in question had ricocheted, not only off the bandits, but off several rocks and fence posts, too before returning to her hand, the impact upon catching it sending a sharp tingle through her hand.  She had shaken out her fingers and wrist, feeling her hand start to go numb.  She had never seen the old man shocked before, but that was the best way to describe the look on his face after the raiders had hightailed it up the canyon ridge and away.  

“Where did you get it?”  She had asked him, her curiosity piqued at how something so precious, so valuable had ended up on a crater such as this one.

“It….” He was always so sure of himself, so confident in his words and actions.  But not in this moment when he made an attempt to answer her question.  “...it was a gift.  Long ago.  From someone very special to me.”  That was all he would say about it as he pressed the weapon into her hands, insisting that it was rightfully hers now.  She had practiced with it every single day after that, her aim improving and her dexterity getting better and better.  He never made mention of it again, until a few weeks before he had disappeared, during the same conversation in which he had instructed her to check on his home.

“That,” he pointed to the circle at her side, “Is in your care now.  Should anything ever happen to me, it will be up to you to care for it.  To feel its call when it needs to be used. You must be it’s steward until it can be returned to its people.  To return it to its rightful place when the time comes.”

She had always found these riddles so frustrating when he spoke in them and she said so, wondering why he couldn’t just tell her anything straight ever.  His clear blue eyes had settled on her pointedly and he had suppressed a small grin.

“Very well.  One day, I will be gone and you will be charged with making sure that this weapon is returned to its rightful place Mandalore.”  He had held up his hand as she had begun to protest that Mandalore didn’t exist anymore.  “So they say.  But the Force always finds a way of putting the right people together to make even the most impossible tasks possible.  Your journey is only beginning Alani.  Mine is very nearly coming to an end, but it will not be the end of this moment.  One moment is part of the next and the next, continuing in an unending cycles. Just as the suns rise and the seasons change on some planets, as oceans ebb and flow on others...it is all connected, unbroken, just like this.” He tapped the weapon in her hand.  “Every choice you have ever made has been setting you on this path, to this moment, and to every moment still to come. You WILL find a way to return this to its home. You will succeed, even if you don’t believe it right now.  The Force flows easily over those who are kind.”

She remembered how she had scoffed at him that day, insisting that she was certainly NOT kind.  She had been too marred by time and situation, by events that had been outside of her control for too long during those dark years growing up, when her childhood had been stolen from her.  He had agreed with her in that regard, that she had indeed seen much darkness.  But he had always argued that her power did not lie in controlling the Force as he did or skill with a blaster like others. Instead, he had assured her, her power lay in her loyalty; her ability to be kind to others and to think creatively, in spite of the ugliness and pain she had experienced most of her young life.  

Alani still wasn’t quite sure that that best described her, but she knew that today, her debt to her old friend had been paid.  She had been the keeper of his secrets that had lain in wait within his home, waiting for this mysterious figure in black.  Now that they had arrived, she was no longer beholden to her promise to her old friend.  She had promised to stay until this day came.

She glanced back up carefully over the ridge line.  The figure in black still stood rooted to the same spot as before, but it seemed from this distance as though his head had lowered, as though in prayer or contemplation.  They seemed to sense that her gaze was back upon them; their head lifted and she could sense their eyes on her once more.  Then, she saw the figure raise one arm...a gesture of acknowledgment, an agreement passing silently between them.  I’ll take it from here.

She felt the lifting of pressure from her shoulders as one does when a taxing task is accomplished.  She raised her own hand carefully above the ridge one, mirror the hooded figure’s gesture, then scurried back to her speeder parked a fair distance away.  As she climbed in, she was struck with the realization that she was free to move on from this place now.  This fiery dust ball had been the longest place she had ever stayed other than her home world when she was small.  But now, one task had come to an end, had been completed, and she was free to go wherever she pleased.

Her hand fell again to the hoop of beskar at her hip.  The next task, she knew, would not be quiet so easy.

Chapter 1 “Nightmare”

Chapter 3

[tragicquartet]

G/t OT3 Holiday Drabble: Hustle and Bustle

((*kicks door off its hinges* I LIVE...AND THIS ALSO WAY TOO FREAKING LATE FOR THE HOLIDAYS.

So yea, I intended to have this up a good week or so ago, but thanks to some extraneous circumstances (mostly involving me having a recurring fever/illness and my mom suddenly busting her ankle at work) it was delayed. But regardless, here we are, and here I am, back on my G/t OT3 bullshit.

Regardless, have some fluff: premise for this drabble is that things are busy around Pepper Paradiso around the holidays, and it has fallen on Lewis to help with some last-minute stuff around the place...and Vivi and Arthur decide to try and help him and cause a little more chaos and trouble than they intended too.

There's also a bit of angst tossed in here and the holiday aspect ended up getting pushed to the side pretty strongly but hey, have some stuff. Enjoy.))

It was that time of year again, and Lewis knew that there was still much to do.

He still had to pick up gifts for Belle and Cayenne, had a few things to get for the restaurant, and had to make sure everything was ready to go for when the relatives showed up...all on top of his usual waiter duties.

Yes, it was a busy time of year, but he wasn't to be deterred.

"Mom, Dad?! I'm going to the store: was there anything else you needed?!"

"No sweetie," came the tired voice of Mrs. Pepper, busily cleaning up the kitchen after a long day of feeding the hungry public...and enjoying the shock on their faces at the spiciness of her dishes.

"No, thank ya' son!" yelled Mr. Pepper just after, returning to his work preparing some of the components for the next day's sweets and confectionary catering orders, a great accumulation of sweat on his brow.

There were few times of year as busy as this: everyone in town was looking to impress their friends and families by bringing something from Pepper Paradiso to their table...

Lewis nodded to himself as he passed the kitchen, making his way down the hall and poking his head into each of his sister's rooms, checking in with them as well, making sure they didn't need any help with anything, all of them responding with a resolute no...well, save for Paprika, who shoved him out of her room quickly, loudly telling him not to look, bits of wrapping paper and tape stuck to her fingertips.

Certain that everything was at least moderately handled here, Lewis turned towards his room, determined to get ready and head out to the mall, knowing it'd be open quite late at this time of year...and needing to get everything done before his tired body and mind caught up with him.

As he entered his personal space, he went through a ritual that was as second-nature to him as breathing, these days: he knocked, waited a moment, then sloooowly opened the door, staring around the room.

First, he looked down, making sure they weren't at his feet, then to his desk, then to his bookshelf and chair, then to the bed...

And ah, THERE they were, or, should he say, just one of them.

"Heya Lew!" Arthur chirped as the towering human approached him, the usually skittish borrower not even phazed by the tremors of Lewis' footfalls as he got close, nor the rush of air that washed over him as Lewis knelt down beside the bed, offering Arthur his hand as he spoke to his diminutive boyfriend:

"Hey Artie...where's Vivi?"

"Up on the rafters, last I heard: she wanted to talk to your Mom about something."

The tiny borrower hopped up onto his partner's hand, Lewis bringing him in close to his chest, fingers gently arched around him as Arthur pressed up against him.

Arthur couldn't exactly talk to anyone outside of Vivi, Lewis, or this house about it due to the inherent taboo, the deep horror it would surely cause any outside borrower hearing about it, but...he couldn't quite describe what it was like, being held by a human you trusted.

It was one of the most soothing experiences he had ever experienced, and even as Lewis walked around the room, pulling his winter jacket out of the closet and gathering up a few of his things with his free hand, Arthur couldn't help but feel safe, warm, and secure in his towering boyfriend's grasp.

He and Vivi saw so little of Lewis at this time of year: he was always so busy with work and family stuff. Arthur and Vivi's best bet to get ahold of their human bae was usually to wait until the end of the day, when Lewis would come in (and promptly fall asleep) or try to catch him during his breaks during the day...the later of which usually didn't go well, what with all the bustle in the kitchen and all the work needing to be done.

As an alternative, Vivi liked to go up to the rafters and watch the restaurant during the day, trying to catch Lew's eye when she could, but Arthur didn't particularly like joining her up there. Just the thought of being in a big room, full to the brim with hungry humans, the thought that any of them would spot him up there, or that he'd fall and end up on one of their tables...

He shuddered: what a terrifying thought.

The borrower was startled out of his thoughts as he was gently placed back down onto the bed, Lewis sliding on his coat as he explained:

"Well, I hate to cut this off early Artie, but I gotta go to the store."

"The store? This late at night? What for?"

"Last minute stuff: gifts, supplies for the restaurant, that kind of thi-"

"LEWWWWWW!"

The bean turned just fast enough towards the sudden voice to catch Vivi as she jumped down off of one of the rafters, the man letting out a startled squeak as the woman smiled, carefree, up at him, Arthur rolling his eyes from the bed...

No sense of fear, that woman.

"What's that you were saying, Lew?" inquired the blue-haired borrower, "You're going to the store?"

"Yea," Lewis explained, gently putting her down next to Arthur, "I hate to leave you two alone again, but I have to get this stuff done while I have time..."

The two borrowers watched as Lewis did up his jacket, wrapping his purple scarf around his neck, sliding his gloves on, checking his pocket for his wallet again...

Meanwhile, Vivi turned silently to her borrower partner, and what followed between them was a series of silent nods, hand motions, and worried and determined expressions, respectively, exchanged between one another...

True to form, Vivi couldn't and wouldn't be dissuaded by Arthur's warnings, and, true to form, Arthur wasn't about to let her do something this reckless alone.

None the wiser to his baes' plans, Lewis headed out the door, his mind much too focused on the task at hand (and keeping himself awake long enough to complete it) to notice that his scarf felt a little heavier around his neck than usual...

---

Lewis sighed, working his way through the grocery store, making a mental note of everything he had picked up already.

He'd stopped at the craft store, grabbing a new set of friendship bracelet supplies for Cayenne, and a big construction set for Belle.

He'd picked up the extra catering boxes, parchment paper, decorative sprinkles here already, and baking chocolate for the restaurant...

And now for the last part of his trip, and the LONGEST: picking up groceries for the big family dinner in a few days.

He sighed, the muscular man leaning down against his cart, yawning and scratching at the bags under his eyes, waiting for an opening to get down the overcrowded aisle, full of people bustling about, grabbing last minute ingredients, attempting to quickly toss together a meal that they hadn't expected the in-laws to show up for, grab something else to serve after messing up the main dish...

And so on and so forth, a loud, clattering crowd of tired, stressed people and their carts between Lewis and the stuff he needed to pick up so he could go home and get some rest...and even then, the line at the register was going to be loooooong.

Lewis sighed again, running his fingers through his hair as he blinked, tiredly, shuffling his cart down the aisle the first opening he got and-

Immediately getting run into by another shopper...and receiving all of the yelling and discontent that came with them:

"HEY, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU BIG GALOOT!!!"

Lewis flinched back at the woman's yelling, holding up his hands as he meekly replied:

"Miss, I'm sorry, I-"

"YEA, YOU BETTER BE, YOU BIG, CLUMSY, STUPID-"

"HEY!!!!!!"

Lewis flinched at the sudden, familiar voice, the woman's eyes going wide as Lewis felt something shift against his neck...

Vivi popped up out of his scarf, loudly berating the woman, shaking her tiny fist as she hollered:

"YOU RAN INTO HIM, YOU JERK! BUZZ OFF BEFORE I SOCK IT TO YA!!!"

"..."

The woman looked from Lewis to the borrower and back, then quickly and silently fled away with her cart, not looking back once.

Meanwhile, Lewis stood there, eyes wide, trying not to panic.

He quickly shuffled out of the way to the aisle farthest back in the store, assuring multiple times that no one was nearby or headed his way before carefully feeling along his neck, pulling his hands back when he felt a couple of familiar pairs of hands press against his fingers. Bringing his hands in front of him, the human bean looked down at his two tiny partners, absolute shock in his eyes. Meanwhile, Arthur crossed his arms, shooting Vivi a glare before casually stating to his towering boyfriend, matter-of-factly: "This was Vivi's idea." Vivi huffed loudly, protesting: "Oh, c'mon Artie-" "Vivi." The woman turned from Arthur to Lewis as the human spoke, noting the worry in his big magenta eyes as she looked up at him. "C-Can you, uh, ex-explain?" Vivi smiled up at the bean, gently patting one of his fingertips. "Well, Lew, you were stressed, had so much stuff to do, and you were sad you didn't get to see us...soooooo I figured we'd solve all of those problems at once. We'd come with you, help you with your shopping, help you relax a little and keep you from passing out and-" "AND THEN get stuck hiding for HOURS because there are beans literally EVERYWHERE," chimed in Arthur, arms still crossed, "she FORGOT about that part." The two borrowers clung tightly to Lewis' fingers as he slowly sunk to the ground and sat down, still a bit flabbergasted. "...are you two okay?" "Yep!" "Yea, mostly." Lewis let out a sigh of relief, gently bringing his partners in close, planting a few small kisses on top of their heads. "I'm glad you're both okay, just...let me know next time you pull something like this, okay?!" He let out a shaky little chuckle, smiling as he felt his baes kiss him back, taking a moment to gather his composure and tackle the situation at hand. "Well, now that we're all here, we need to come up with a strategy: I can't just walk around with you out in the open, not with all these people around..." Arthur chimed in again, raising a cautious hand as he suggested: "How about you finish your shopping first, then we can regroup. Besides..." Lewis blushed slightly as he saw Arthur pull one of his fingers closer to him, planting a small kiss on top of his fingertip. "...we'll be here to help you get through the night, big guy." Bolstered and re-energized knowing that his partners were here for him, Lewis nodded and stood back up, gently bringing Vivi and Arthur back up to his scarf, resisting the urge to giggle as they wiggled their way back into the fabric, tickling him a little as they got settled. He addressed them one last time as he started pushing his cart back towards the busy area of the store: "Alright, you two, I'm gonna get going again: I'll let you know when the coast is clear." --- It was a bit past midnight when Lewis placed his grocery bags next to the bench on the second floor concourse of the mall, overlooking the atrium below. The mall was still open for a few more hours, and although it was mostly cleared out now a few people still made their way, weighed down with bags and heavy eyelids, through the bright, festively-decorated lobby below.

Taking a few more glances around him for good measure, Lewis flopped down onto the bench, letting out a tired, exasperated sigh, enjoying a moment of peace and stillness after so many hours of shopping and being up on his feet...

"Alright you two: coast's clear."

He felt the scrambling of tiny hands and feet against his neck, trying not to move as his boyfriend and girlfriend made their way down from his neck, the both of them moving down to stand on top of his leg, looking down at the vast atrium.

Lewis softly smiled down at them and their wide-eyed wonder at the bright display below: he forgot at times just how isolated from the wider world they were, always living in the walls of his home, relying on him and his family for food and shelter, having to remain hidden from the entire world, just to survive...

They had probably never seen a big indoor space like this before, let alone one all dolled-up for the holidays: full of twinkling lights, big, tinsel-ladden trees, and bright baubles everywhere.

"This is so beautiful," Vivi exclaimed, leaning over the edge of Lewis' knee a little, Arthur looking over her, noting how the light radiating up from below reflected off her face, caught on her glasses and eyes, illuminating the face of the woman he loved with a soft, golden glow...

"Yea," he cooed, smiling, "it is."

The borrower tilted his head back, his gaze locking with that of Lewis, the human glancing down at the diminutive man...

Gosh, it must have taken so much for Arthur to come out here and be with him today: Lewis had never gotten it out of him himself, but Vivi had alluded to Arthur having a pretty traumatic event happen in his childhood involving humans, and Arthur himself had admitted to losing his parents at a young age...not to mention all the moments, early on in their relationship, where Arthur had struggled with being close to him.

There had been a lot of fear, a lot of discussion and practice and slow, careful trust-building, but in the end...

Arthur was a much braver soul than he or Vivi gave him credit for, Lewis concluded, watching as the borrower approached Vivi, gently looping his arm over her shoulder, Lewis grimacing slightly as the light filtering up from below glinted off of Arthur's mechanical hand...

He looked away from his lovers for a moment, seeing that little piece of machinery: call him dramatic, but to this day he still worried about hurting them.

He was the reason why Arthur had needed that hand, after all...and even if it was due to an accident he hadn't directly caused, it was still a reminder that, as a human, even a small mistake on his part could be devastating for his partners.

"..."

The man's eyes narrowed as he continued this train of thought, worry growing in Lewis's mind that he thought he had long since buried, panic rising in his tired mind, realizing that his partners were indeed out in the open right now, far away from home, relying on him and-

"Hey, Lew! Don't go falling asleep on us yet!"

"?!!"

Lewis shook his head, pulling himself away from his negative thoughts as Vivi yelled up at him, Arthur's head tilted back to look up at him too, giving Lewis a small, concerned, and loving smile...

"..."

Lewis closed his eyes, letting out a long, relieved sigh, his worries melting away at the sound of his partners' words and the sight of their smiles: how did they always know what to do make him feel better?

"Heh, don't worry, I won't."

He watched as the borrowers turned away from him again, settling down top of his leg, holding each other close, Lewis following their gaze to watch the bustling people below.

Call him sappy, but despite all his worrying, he knew his partners had his back, and he had their's...

And he wouldn't trade having them in his life for anything else in the world.

---

When they got home, Lewis put away the supplies and food in the kitchen, checked on his father, hid away the gifts he'd bought for the girls in the back of his closet, took off his coat, stretched...

And then promptly collapsed onto his bed, scarf still wrapped around his neck as he let out a low, exhausted groan.

It wasn't long before the human had maneuvered himself under the covers, weakly sliding his scarf off once he felt Vivi and Arthur clamber out of it, the towering man letting out a tired sigh as he felt the two borrowers moving around on the pillow next to him, getting settled themselves.

"Thanks for the help today guys," murmured Lewis, "it means a lot."

"No problem Lew," purred Arthur, lying down next to the human's face, letting out a content sigh himself as he stretched, then allowed his eyes to slide shut.

Vivi, on the other hand, wasn't so fast to get settled.

She stood on top of the pillow, looking across it at her two baes, at Arthur flopped out next to Lewis' face in particular.

Arthur was quickly falling into unconsciousness, his characteristically loud snoring cueing up as his legs and hands twitched, the skittish borrower still ever the active one, even as he fell asleep...

Gosh, Artie must be so exhausted after today: she knew how much being around humans stressed him out, and spending hours tucked away against Lewis, nowhere near solid ground and surrounded by beans in all directions...

Yea, maybe he'd been right about this being a bad idea.

She carefully made her way across the pillow, kneeling down next to him, gently draping his outstretched arm over his chest: knowing him, he'd end up with a sore shoulder if slept completely flopped-out like that.

Certain that Arthur would sleep peacefully now, the tiny woman stepped over him, walking up to Lewis, feeling the rush of his warm breath over her as he snoozed...

Staring up at the bean, she tilted her head: how many times had she been told as a child that getting this close to a human was dangerous? How many times had she been warned that if you felt a human's breath on you, you were as good as dead?

"Hmmm..."

Hmm, she couldn't remember...but it had certainly been a lot.

She glanced behind her again, looking down at Arthur, then back at Lewis, before promptly settling down where she was, happily sandwiched between her two baes, content.

She could hardly think of anywhere else in the world she'd like to be right now, a thought that, thinking about it, kind of shocked her.

She had spent years adventuring, always taking the biggest risks, the hardest missions, and scoping out the most dangerous of bean residences, seeing if and where her fellow borrowers in the area could settle safely...

Reminiscing as she sat here, Arthur's snoring to her right, Lewis' breath washing over her from the left, the tiny woman feeling perfectly safe and beyond comfortable, she thought back to the early days. She remembered how much she and Arthur had argued at first, being paired up to scope a few places out: his overly cautious attitude rubbed her the wrong way continuously, and he had screamed at her so many times that she was going to get herself killed, or worse...

And then she'd found out about his childhood, and, well...she had kind of regretted everything, hadn't she? Every little angry snap she'd had at him, every argument and petty squabble: he'd only  been trying to protect her from a threat that was not only very real to him, but that he'd experienced in the past.

"..."

Reaching out in the dark, she clutched Arthur's hand, feeling the cold metallic surface of his mechanical fingers subconsciously twitch against her's, the woman continuing to delve through her memories as she grew more and more tired, remembering...

Lewis.

She had to admit, she'd only really gotten to know this family because of Lewis: she was a big proponent of understanding the beans you borrowed from. Sure, it was risky eavesdropping, getting close enough to them to overhear their conversations, observe their habits and work around them instead of just waiting for the dead of night to take what you needed...

This time, she decided she wouldn't bother with all that, though: the Peppers had several kids, and they lived attached to their restaurant business, the building always bustling with humans, day in, day out. It was too risky trying to investigate them further...but Lewis, well...

He'd changed her mind.

He was such an odd, endearing fellow: kind and sweet, a bit of a dork and a dreamer, his head always in a book of fairytales, a tome about mythology, or Sailor Moon manga, all while still caring for and looking after his family, his kind, innocent, and loving nature in stark contrast with his hulking, powerful physique...

He was a mystery, too: the Peppers had adopted him, didn't know where he was from, and Lewis didn't seem to remember himself, either.

He had been an enigma to her, a mystery to be cracked, and all her training, all her patience and risk-taking and careful planning had fallen apart as she had watched him, followed him, understood him and his family more and more...

She had broken one of the fundamental rules of borrowing, had gotten emotionally involved with the beings she was borrowing from...and had fallen in love in the process.

Turning to him in the dark, Vivi reached out towards Lewis's face, gently resting her fingertips against his cheek, feeling the human's warm skin against her's, any and all fear that had been instilled in her from birth long since forgotten...

So much so that when a tired, lazy, and gigantic hand reached up from beneath the covers, draping over the two borrowers, gently holding them close, neither stirred nor flinched away, Lewis letting out a low, content sigh as his barely awake mind registered the tired, tiny movements of his lovers against his fingers as they got settled, the three of them nestled in close together, warm against the cold and rising holiday hustle and bustle outside, if only for a few peaceful, quiet hours before sunrise.

Yes, if you were to ask any of them, their answer would be quite clear: despite all the troubles they had faced, the hurdles they had tackled and the ones they still had left to conquer...

There was nowhere else in the world they'd rather be than here with the ones they loved.

[memorydragon]

Drawn That Way

So I started this fic a loooooong time ago.  Some time after Age of Ultron came out, which is the timeline for the fic as well, if you’re wondering.  Then it wasn’t going so well and I was writing other things for fests that were more time sensitive, and it got sidelined for a bit.  Then it spent an even longer time sitting in my notebook only half typed, because I was lazy and didn’t want to type anything.  But it’s done now, and beta’ed, so here you have it.

This really started from a post I remember seeing somewhere around the time I was first getting into the marvel fandom, of an artist complaining about how fic writers always have Steve drawing on paper, when so many artists now use a digital medium.  And Steve, while old fashioned, does pick up on technology pretty quick.  I have no idea who originally posted it, but artist, here is a fic for you of Steve using a tablet to draw.  Really though, this fic is for all the fanartists on tumblr, because you guys deserve lots of love.  Also, it’s for my followers who for some reason, stuck around this long.  Thanks for staying.

Thanks to @canolacrush for the beta, who tells me this is almost, but not quite, a character study.  No real warnings on this one, aside from Steve finding out about tumblr, the hard way sometimes.  

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It started innocently enough. "-and the uniforms are due for an upgrade. How are they for movement?" "Hm," Steve replied, adding a few sharper lines. "... Wow, is that a bald eagle setting off fireworks over there?" "Sounds good," Steve said, frowning at his shading. He was drawing in pen, so he couldn't really fix it the way he wanted to. "And there's Bucky. Someone painted his arm pink, and it looks-" "Bucky?" Steve said once the words caught up to his ears. He looked around, but didn't see anyone with a metal arm, pink or otherwise. Tony snorted across from him, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He looked a little angry despite the smile on his face. "I wondered what would get your attention," he said. Steve flushed and snapped, "Don't do that again." "Fine," Tony said, pushing the plate away. He hadn't even touched his food. "But if I'm talking to a wall, I can do that while getting work done at the Tower. And the walls there actually listen." Shame won over and Steve bit down the irritability that came with it. He really should have at least tried to pay enough attention so that he wouldn't be caught off guard. "Sorry," Steve said. "You started talking about mixing polymers, and I got a bit lost." "You could have just said I was boring you," Tony said, standing. "Stay," Steve said, grabbing his wrist across the table. "I should have been paying attention because this is important. I'm sorry." When Tony wasn't being prickly like now, Steve <I>did</I> enjoy listening. Tony's voice was animated and rich when he was talking about something he was excited about. He hadn't wanted Tony to <I>stop</I> talking exactly, but that was harder to explain. Tony sat back down finally, grudgingly. Tony was... Steve didn't want to say spoiling for a fight, because that wasn't true. Tony tried surprisingly hard to get along with everyone on the team despite his original lone wolf act. But he was easy to set off sometimes, especially around Steve. Steve looked around for some sort of peace offering - Tony tended to be mollified by food, which was why Steve chose a restaurant for the meeting, and Steve was willing to spare a few of his fries as an olive branch - but saw something better. "You can have what I was drawing?" Steve said, passing over the napkin and trying not to think about how he was essentially giving a doodle to a billionaire who could afford Picassos. It was far from even one of his better drawings since napkins weren't the greatest material to draw on, but at least he hadn't strayed too far when his concentration left. "Chibi-Iron Man? Really?" Tony said, his tone unimpressed, but there was a hint of a smile that he couldn't quite hide at the drawing of his alter ego holding up a victory sign. "Natasha showed the style to me. I thought it was cute," Steve said, relieved that it worked. Tony seemed to be humoring him now. "Do you always draw on napkins?" Tony asked, tracing some of the lines with his fingers absently. "Only when I don't have my notebook," Steve said sheepishly. "It's a bit bulky to carry around, so I don't always bring it. Plus it'd be kind of rude to just start drawing when I'm supposed to be listening... overtly, anyway." Tony raised an eyebrow but let it slide, humming softly as he pulled out his phone. Steve flushed when he realized Tony was snapping a picture of the drawing. "Ever try a tablet for drawing?" Tony asked. Steve winced. He'd been afraid of that question. "I didn't like it very much." Tony looked up at him in surprise. "You usually take to new technology pretty quickly. What happened with the tablet?" Sighing, Steve ran a hand through his hair. "It was too bulky and awkward. I've seen a lot of digital art that looks neat, but I couldn't get anything like that to work when I tried it." "Who showed it to you, SHIELD?" Tony asked, frowning slightly like he was trying to puzzle something out. "Never mind. Of course it was. They probably just opened up Microsoft Paint and told you to draw. Idiots." "I think that guy was actually one of the Hydra agents," Steve replied, thinking back. "Even worse," Tony said, tapping away at his phone. "Ever look up some tutorials?" "All the ones I found were for some expensive program," Steve replied with a sigh, pushing around a bit of ketchup with his french fry. "I didn't want to spend that much money when I could draw just as well on paper." He looked up at Tony's offended noise, finding himself on the end of a glare that was dangerously close to a pout. "Steve, money is not a problem. You know that, right? I'm pretty sure I have programs and scholarships that help artists to afford this kind of thing somewhere. Pepper's big on art." Shrugging, Steve ate the fry. "Didn't see much point. Like I said, I can still draw, and it's not like I need to do it for a paycheck." Tony snorted, then made a few more swipes at his phone. "I've bought you the current best recommended version of Photoshop and a proper tablet, and I'm sending you some YouTube tutorials. Much better than drawing on a napkin when you're out and about, I promise. Just have FRIDAY set it up for you when you get back. She can also help you find a site to post your art to if you want to share it with the rest of the world." Now he was going to have to try it again, if Tony was spending all that money on him. He'd learned the hard way early on just to accept Tony's gifts as long as they weren't too extravagant, so he forced a smile. "Thanks." "Should have come to me in the first place," Tony muttered. "I'll remember that next time," Steve said, the smile less forced. Tony might not be the most approachable, but he really tried for the team and it was honestly a pretty thoughtful and useful gift. He'd heard about the giant bunny fiasco. "So can you try running the polymer thing by me again? I promise I'll pay attention this time." "There will be a pop-quiz at the end," Tony said. * * * It was a few days before Steve really had enough time to play around with the new device. FRIDAY directed him to a new tablet that was apparently designed specifically for drawing, unlike his normal tablet. After watching a few of the tutorials, he was starting to see why that made a difference. It was enough for him to overcome his misgivings to give it a test run. By the end of the week, Steve never left the Avengers headquarters without it unless he was rushing to a mission. He made a mental note to thank Tony the next time he was in the city, because it was much better than a napkin. Maybe not something he'd use all the time, but it was certainly convenient. He was showing a drawing of a cat to Sam when his friend reminded him of the second idea Tony had proposed. "You should post those online," Sam said. "Why?" Steve asked, a little baffled. His art had never really been that good. He'd never done a gallery, and most of the time the drawings were just a way to keep his hands busy or work through his emotions. He rarely ever showed them to his friends. "It's what people do these days," Sam said with a wink. "You don't have to, but you should look into it. Meet some other artists." "You're as bad as Natasha," Steve said, shaking his head. "I don't need a date." "Never said you did," Sam said, leaning back in his chair. "But you could use someone to talk to that's not part of the Avengers or baby SHIELD." "You're not my therapist, Sam." "And thank God for that. I do <I>not</I> envy the shrink that has to deal with your sulking," Sam said with a laugh and a fake shudder. "I just set people up with the things they need to get better. I'll leave the psychoanalyzing to the professionals." Steve did not glare at Sam, because that would constitute as sulking and he refused to dignify that with an answer. Given how Sam started to laugh harder, it didn't work as well as Steve had hoped. "Just give it a shot," Sam said, clapping his shoulder. "You never know until you try. Worst case, people might actually like you." "I'll think about it," Steve said. He hadn't planned on following through, but Sam's crossed arms and unimpressed look got his hackles up. "Really?" Sam asked. "Really," Steve said mulishly, knocking Sam's legs down where he'd put them up on the table. "I'll ask FRIDAY about it tonight." He ended up not being able to ask that night as there was a call about some missing Chitauri weapons that the team had to take care of. A simple mission, at least. Only Rhodey was hurt, but his sprained ankle actually came from before the mission when he'd been sparring with Natasha, rather than the mission itself. The next night had Vision and Wanda going out with Natasha to show them more of the States, and Sam and Rhodey had some sort of poker game with a few of their fellow airmen. There were other SHIELD recruits but Steve wasn't as close to them as he was to the Avengers. Steve drew a quick picture of Vision and Wanda. Vision wasn't quite right, but Wanda had come out pretty well. He hadn't gotten the hang of coloring on the tablet yet, which might be what was off about Vision. "Would you like to post your drawings online, Cap?" FRIDAY asked brightly. Steve narrowed his eyes. "Sam asked you to pester me about this, didn't he?" "Falcon just asked to see if you would follow through on your promise," FRIDAY replied. He missed JARVIS. Talking with FRIDAY or Vision was a bit bitter-sweet. Vision was both JARVIS and not JARVIS in ways Steve only half-understood but accepted, and FRIDAY was a personality of her own. It wasn't the same anymore, and hearing her less formal speech reminded him of what they'd lost. He looked down at his drawing of Vision and Wanda, then shook his head. "I think this one's a little too personal to put online.  Posting art of the Avengers seems like it's too self-serving." "Not at all, Cap," FRIDAY replied, and Steve smiled at the nickname. It was nice getting to know FRIDAY, at least. His tablet pinged, and he opened the files FRIDAY sent. "These... They're not my art," he said, looking at the various drawings of the Avengers. "Many people draw the Avengers, from children to adults," FRIDAY said. "Where did you find all of these?" Steve asked, looking through the images. They were all sorts of different styles and a lot of them were really good. They put his own little drawing to shame, that's for sure. "These images were taken from a site called Tumblr," FRIDAY said. "Though there are many more sites such as DeviantArt, Instagram, and others." "How do you spell that first one?" Steve asked. He wasn't surprised to see it already in his URL bar when he got there, however. "Thanks." He had to make an account before he could really look through the site, but he only grumbled a little after FRIDAY assured him it was okay. Account made, he typed "Avengers" into the search bar and it came up with all sorts of different things, ranging from drawings, to text posts, to costumes, to pictures from their battles or interviews. Not all of them were good opinions either, but he was used to that. Or he was supposed to be used to that, not nearly breaking his tablet. He reminded himself everyone was entitled to their opinion. Though if anyone were to say that to his face about Natasha, Steve was pretty sure he was also entitled to expressing his own opinion. She wouldn't thank him for it, but she'd probably understand the brawl was started to make him feel better rather than to protect her honor. "There sure is a lot on here," Steve said, loading ten more posts. "You can also sort by post type if you only want to look at art and pictures," FRIDAY chimed in. "I'll keep that in-" Steve stopped, his jaw dropping open. He swallowed, feeling a blush spread across his face. "People draw stuff like this about us?" he asked, his voice cracking. "All the time, Cap," FRIDAY said. "It's very popular, but I can put on a clean search if you want. There's a lot of apps for that too as long as it's tagged." Steve nodded, then swallowed again, very glad when the image disappeared. He shifted, trying not to think about Thor in that position. His teammates were attractive, but he had enough problems in his life right now. "There's a lot on here," Steve said again, wondering what Natasha would think of the picture of her and Clint kissing. He wondered what <I>Laura</I> would think of that. He was pretty sure asking would just get him an unimpressed look on both accounts. He had to shift again at the next picture of Wanda and Natasha. They were both clothed, but he was still pretty sure that wasn't decent and again, he really didn't need to be thinking about his teammates like that. "Why would I post on this site?" Steve asked. "It's for more than just Avengers art. It's a way to connect with other people, and a lot of fans post on both Tumblr and a DeviantArt." He typed in the second site next, finding a more art-geared site. He didn't do a search this time, instead looking through some of the recommended pictures. Lots of people were commenting and saying how much they liked the art, which seemed nice. He went back to Tumblr and saw the notes on a few of the drawings. There were a lot more likes and reblogs, but some comments as well. Both sites looked like good networking and ways to showcase art, if in slightly different ways. Bringing up his own drawing, he compared it to the others. He felt outclassed by a lot of what he'd seen on both sites. He followed a few of the art blogs he liked though, because no one would connect Captain America to midnightracer18. He doubted anyone would remember that radio show, but it would fit in even if people did. 'Fandom' seemed big enough on the two sites that no one would blink, even if it was really old. * * * Steve was a bit shy sometimes, but it was surprisingly easier to talk to people online. It was nice to meet people without Captain America hanging over his head. It'd been a long time since he'd been plain old Steve Rogers, and that was more of a relief than he'd have thought. A few of his online acquaintances were supportive and convinced him to post his drawings, so he posted to both Tumblr and DeviantArt. He was pleasantly surprised to see he gained a small following, and the small bit of garnered fame was fun. His days with the USO hadn't been all bad, and he was pretty used to having a double identity to begin with. After a few weeks of steadily gaining followers, Steve got his first anonymous message. '<I>Do you take requests for what to draw?</I>' it asked. Steve considered the question. He mostly posted little doodles of the other Avengers or ordinary objects or scenery. He still preferred drawing by hand, but the tablet was very convenient so he found himself on it frequently. So time-wise, it wouldn't be too much of an issue. A request though... he'd seen some of the other artists do them, or they took commissions. As long as there weren't a lot of them, it shouldn't be too bad, right? '<I>Sure,</I>' he wrote back, posting it to his blog. '<I>No requests for explicit art will be accepted and no guarantees, but if I've got time, I'll give it a try.</I>' The next day he and Natasha were discussing the new training regimen for the team when he casually checked his messages and nearly choked on air. "What is it?" Natasha asked, glancing over his shoulder before Steve could hide his phone. "You're on Tumblr? '<I>Could you draw Captain America and Tony Stark kissing?</I>' I'm hurt that you haven't told me about this, Steve." "It's not... It's a request," he said. "I just put up some doodles I make sometimes." "We'll talk about you not telling me about joining social media later," Natasha said, then smirked. "Right now I think we need to talk about you drawing yourself and Tony kissing." With friends like these, Steve didn't need enemies. "Nat..." "You gonna do it?" she asked, not letting up. "I don't know," Steve said, rubbing at his forehead. "I didn't think... That's weird, isn't it?" Natasha shrugged. "A bit creepy, yeah. But it's a harmless enough request. If it makes you uncomfortable, just say so. Or you could give the fans what they want." "And what if it was <I>you</I> they wanted a picture kissing?" Steve asked. "Then you better get my good side and be better at drawing kissing than you are at giving an actual kiss," Natasha teased. "Seriously though, you can tell them no kissing if you want. Do what you're comfortable with. Drawing your teammates making out is kinda weirder for you than it would be for someone who doesn't know us personally." "I wasn't that bad," Steve said, giving her a mock glare. "Why do people like that sort of thing?" He didn't draw himself for the most part, and the proposal of drawing himself kissing another teammate was daunting. "Gives it more acceptance for some people, seeing their favorite celebrities not being straight. Other people just enjoy hot guys making out," Natasha said with a shrug. "It's up to you, Steve. Just remember you can say no." Steve nodded. He could understand the acceptance part, at least. He bit his lip, torn on what to do. "Are you going to do it?" Natasha asked again, curious rather than teasing. "I think I might have an alternative," Steve said turning the idea around in his head. * * * The next day Steve posted a reply. '<I>I don't really feel comfortable drawing real people like that, but hopefully these two toons will make up for it.</I>' Attached was a picture of a cat in a Captain America uniform and a mouse in the Iron Man suit with the helmet off, giving the cat a very chaste kiss. He labeled them Iron Mouse and Captain Americat. He signed off, satisfied that he had at least tried to fulfill the request. It was actually easier than he thought, as long as it wasn't really his teammates. He signed on the next day and was extremely surprised to see the picture had gotten over a thousand notes and he'd gained a handful of new followers. He clicked through the comments and tags, smiling in spite of himself. There were a few negative comments, but otherwise most of them ran along the lines of 'omg! it's so cute!' He frowned at one of the tags, googling 'OTP: Stony'. "Cap," Sam said, walking in. "I've been looking for - you know, I'm not one to assume or judge, but if that blush means you're looking at porn, Wanda and Vision will be back soon so you might want to take it out of the common areas." He threw Sam an exasperated look, which Sam returned with a cheeky smile. "Not porn then. So what makes Steve Rogers blush?" "Do a lot of people want certain celebrities to get together?" Steve asked, feeling foolish. The USO girls had talked about the Hollywood rags, of course, and come to think of it, a few of them probably had the same level of devotion towards certain couples, but Steve honestly felt a little out of his depth on this one. Sam laughed, the bastard. "That's a thing people have always done. Don't play that innocent kid from the 40s, Cap. It ain't gonna work on me anymore." Steve settled back into his earlier glare. "Before, it was never about <I>me</I> though." Sam raised an eyebrow. "Not me-me," Steve clarified. "It was Captain America everyone thought of from the propaganda." "And that's different from now, how?" It really wasn't, other than Steve had been mostly unaware of it, but Steve didn't particularly feel like being reasonable. "Okay, old man," Sam said with a laugh. "I'll take your word on it. So how did a geezer like you stumble onto such modern vices?" "I've been posting some of my art online and people are tagging it with OTP," Steve explained. "I'll admit, I'm not that up on internet slang," Sam said. "OTP?" "One True Pairing," Steve said, a little smug now that he was more up to date than Sam. Never mind that he had just looked it up himself. Come to think of it though, he'd seen it before on some of his pictures of Wanda and Vision, and the one of Rhodey and Sam, so at least it wasn't just him and Tony. "I'm sure that makes sense in some language," Sam said, shaking his head. "Anyway, I came in to talk to you about a lead I got on our missing person." Steve immediately put the tablet down. "You found him?" "I found a trail," Sam cautioned. "I'll need a few days to check it out. Wanted to check in before I left." "Do you need back up?" "I'll call if I do." Sam gripped Steve's shoulder reassuringly when Steve looked down. "We'll find him. He gets squirrel-y with you around though, and you're needed here. Let me try alone this time and see if it makes a difference." "I know," Steve said, managing a weak smile. "Thanks." "No problem. Don't let the team fall apart while I'm gone. I've grown attached to the crazy," Sam said. "Be safe," Steve said, giving Sam a sloppy salute as he walked out. As soon as Sam was gone, Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. He stared down at his tablet again. Then he opened up Photoshop and started to draw. He really wasn't surprised it was Bucky that started to stare out at him. How Bucky used to be, but his eyes... Steve tried a few times, but he couldn't get them right. Not with the way Bucky had stared at him on the helicarrier. He scribbled a black box over Bucky's eyes in frustration. He didn't post the picture. It felt too personal. * * * Steve caught on to Tumblr lingo pretty quickly, and though it was weird, he got used to the idea of other people 'shipping' his teammates. As long as he could avoid seeing himself on there, he was fine. Which, amusingly enough, got him a few questions about if he hated Captain America and why he didn't draw Cap more. He usually responded with a Captain Americat. It was enough of its own character that he could use it to poke fun at himself without feeling too self-conscious. A lot of people liked the animal Avengers, and they requested the others a lot too. Steve had a lot of fun with some of the puns, and one or two odd pairings that he suspected came from Natasha, but could never prove due to them being anon messages. The more explicit she asked for, the tamer Steve twisted the prompt, which was fun in its own way, and a few of the others started sending him things with the intention of twisting them too. Still, he'd have preferred not to have ever known about the 'alpha/omega' trope. Thankfully, Steve had been catching up on sci-fi and other genres, so that was easy enough to get around. He was drawing the Scarlet Pooch and Black Widowbird holding hands when he got the message. Steve went straight to the gym, taking out the punching bag and decimating it within five minutes. He was on his fourth bag when he realized he wasn't alone, and he nearly jumped when he saw Vision so close. "Uh, hi," Steve said, trying to regain his bearings. He hated when Vision did that. "Something wrong, Captain?" Vision asked. "FRIDAY informed me that you were going through punching bags at an accelerated rate. I thought I should inquire if you needed assistance." Steve turned back to the punching bag. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm rather afraid your vital signs say you are lying." Sometimes he hated the fact that Vision had instant access to all of the safety monitors in the gym and probably a few of his own. "That was overstepping, wasn't it?" Vision asked, sadness in his eyes. Steve sighed, resting his head on the punching bag. "It's fine. I'm pretty sure anyone else would have called me on that too," Steve said. Vision was still learning how to deal with humans, and it wasn't his fault Steve was grouchy. Steve pulled back finally, rubbing his forehead. Sulking wasn't going to get him anywhere. "I've been posting some of my art online," he said as he started to unwrap his hands. He really wanted to keep hitting the bag, but the wrap had spots of red on it already. "Someone's been reposting it. They have credit on there, but it still feels really horrible." "Ah, you mean your posts on Tumblr and DeviantArt," Vision said. "We have been following them with great amusement. Wanda particularly liked one of the profile picture you did of her using her powers." "Does everyone know about that?" Steve asked, a blush working its way down to his neck. He'd thought the internet was more anonymous. "We were not aware you wished it to be a secret from us." It was a bit embarrassing to know his teammates followed his art posts, especially with the 'shippy' requests. Knowing his friends had been viewing his art was a bit worse, but nothing that Steve was really upset over. He just really liked being anonymous. "I should have known you guys would find it," he said, shaking his head.  "I asked the person who was reposting to take it down, but they said they gave me credit and insisted they could leave it up.  I contacted Tumblr about it, but some of my friends on the site say that the staff take forever to respond." "Captain, if you require it, FRIDAY and I could speed the process along," Vision said. "That wouldn't help everyone else with the same problem," Steve said, closing his eyes.  "But thanks." "We'll do what we can," Vision said, looking dispirited as well.  While not as big or life-threatening, the reminder that they couldn't help everyone still stung. "I just don't understand why a person would do that," Steve said, sitting down on the bench as he grabbed a water bottle and held the cold water against his forehead.  His stomach twisted into knots thinking about it, and even if he wasn't paid for his art, it still felt like someone was stealing a bit of his soul.  He was angry and hurt and with the internet being what it was, he had no face to blame or recompense to find.  It just... hurt. "I'm afraid I understand human nature even less," Vision said, floating to sit beside Steve.  "I'm not sure I can be of much help in answering that question." "It was more rhetorical than anything," Steve explained.  He didn't understand it, but he did know some of the reasons people would steal the drawings.  Attention, mistaken sense of doing the artist a <I>favor</I> by showing more people their art, among other things.  It just hurt more than it should, and it wasn't like he could get into an old-fashioned brawl over it anymore.  It felt like he was still being shoved up against the wall and beaten though, just without the satisfaction of getting a punch or two in first.  He'd rather be small again and in a fist fight than having to deal with the feeling of someone reposting his art. "Perhaps joining the rest of the team for dinner would help your mood?" Vision asked hesitantly. Steve thought about it.  He really wanted to keep punching things, but that never solved anything back when he'd first woken up.  Fury was, annoyingly enough, right about trying to get him back in the world. "Alright," he said with a sigh.  "Though I don't think I'll be very good company at the moment." "The others are more than used to your sulking, Captain," Vision said reassuringly.  "I'm sure they don't mind." "Thanks," Steve said dryly, because as strange as Vision found humanity, he certainly hadn't lost the sharp wit that Tony had given JARVIS. * * * Wanda was quiet.  Steve didn't know if she was always like that, or if the death of her brother still weighed so heavily on her, but she was good company when Steve didn't want to talk but also didn't want to be alone.  And once he knew the other Avengers had found out about his art, he didn't feel so self-conscious drawing around them. He was still smarting from the reposts, and he hadn't really uploaded any new art or checked Tumblr either.  He kept drawing, because it gave his hands something to do while Sam still hadn't reported in and Tony was missing their weekly lunch because he was on another continent for business.  It made focusing harder though, because every line reminded him of how much it'd hurt. And no, contrary to what the Avengers thought, Steve was not sulking about either of those two things. His phone beeped, and he put down the drawing of Peggy he'd been doing. Picking it up, he raised an eyebrow, then looked at Wanda.  She waved. "I am right here," Steve said. "It's something I think you should see," Wanda said with a small smile. Shaking his head, Steve unlocked his phone then tapped at the link she sent him.  It was a Tumblr post, which made him wary, but he figured Wanda was sending it to him for a reason. It was a text post, not one written by anyone he'd talked to on the site before.  Curiosity got the better of him, and he started to read. '<I>Sorry I haven't been responding to a lot of y'all.  It's been really hard after Connie's death.  But I just wanted to give a shout out to Ter for showing me @midnightracer18's art tag.  The art is so cute and honest, and even after everything, it brought a smile to my face.  I know Connie would have loved them too.  Thank you for the wonderful art, and God bless!</I>' Steve stared at the words, barely understanding their meaning, though he'd memorized the message within seconds.  His throat was uncomfortably tight, but he couldn't put a finger on why. "Steve?" Wanda asked. "Trying to convince me to get back to posting art?" Steve asked when his voice started to work again. "After my family died, I was so angry," Wanda said.  "And I did terrible things because of it.  And after Pietro..." Wanda's breath hitched softly.  "After Pietro died, I was angry all over again.  You helped me realize that there was more to life than anger." "You did that on your own," Steve said.  She had handled her brother's death much better than he had waking up in the future, and that was all because she was trying.  They had a lot in common, but Wanda didn't need the same push he had to get back out into the world. "It was easier with everyone's forgiveness and friendship," Wanda replied, shaking her head.  She stood then, heading to the door.  "Just think about it, Steve.  Anger doesn't suit you." As she left, Steve opened his notebook again, staring down at Peggy.  Unlike Bucky, her eyes had remained the same.  So bright and lively when she was in her more lucid moments.  He knew what she would tell him.  She always called him on his dramatics. Setting the picture aside, Steve looked through the blog Wanda had sent him.  Then he picked up his tablet and started to draw. * * * '<I>For @Melaniequickstep.  To absent friends,</I>' read Steve's transcript.  Above it was a picture of the Howling Commandos, drawn from Steve's memory.  Bucky had been the hardest, because Steve couldn't quite let go of how much he had failed him.  Was still failing. The picture was raw and too private, but he posted it anyway, because if there was one thing he knew, it was the feeling of <I>grief</I> that ate away at your soul until there was nothing left.  And grief didn't get better for sharing it, but being alone in grief was worse.  He had done himself no favors by closing up about it, and for someone who was brave enough to show their grief openly, Steve could only try not to let them down. An hour after it was posted, Wanda came in to sit with him, curled up in a chair with a book Rhodey had bought her.  It was enough. * * * "Have you heard of confidentiality, Cap?" Fury said by way of greeting. "Because I'm starting to think you don't know the meaning of the word." Steve looked up from the drawing he was working on, knowing he was busted. "People have pictures of you from the Avengers' fights, sir," he said. Fury was in a hoodie with sunglasses, looking for all the world like he'd been living under a bridge for the past few years.  Steve knew that wasn't the case, thankfully, but the disguise was useful.  "And your obituary ran in the papers with your name." Fury sighed, sitting next to Steve on the park bench.  "Nick Furry?  Really?" "I thought Agents of S.H.E.E.P. was clever," Steve said with a sly smile. Fury shook his head.  "I can have those pictures removed." The man was more amused than he was letting on, so Steve leaned back on the park bench he'd been sitting on.  "You know that would only spark more interest." "You're full of shit, Rogers.  I hope you know that," Fury said, but he was smiling.  Steve knew for a fact that Fury loved the Avengers' brand of bullshit, even when it drove him mad.  "But you happen to be right about that.  None of that shipping business though. I know Romanov has sent you something, so do us both a favor and delete it." Steve nodded, knowing exactly which request in his unfinished drafts it was.  He figured he could get away with a shady-looking '<I>REDACTED</I>' on an Agents of S.H.E.E.P. logo.  "Yes, sir." They sat quietly for a while.  Fury watched people pass by as Steve continued his drawing.  It was a small park, but sometimes Steve liked to get away from the Avengers' compound.  Fury would get to his reason for being here soon enough, and it was a nice day. Finally, Fury handed him five dollars.  Steve tilted his head in question.  "For a commission," Fury explained. Steve couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.  "I don't usually take commissions, but isn't that price a little low?" "Would have worked in the 40s," Fury muttered.  "I used to pay your salary." "Artists have to make a living just as much as the next S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, sir," Steve said.  "They deserve to be paid for their work." "I thought you weren't taking commissions?" Fury groused, but with a sleight of the hand, the fiver became a fifty.  "This meet your standards?" Steve felt self-conscious despite his words, because he really wasn't strapped for cash and most of his drawings were just to give his hands something to do.  But he'd seen enough posts about artists having to charge too low for prices, and he did want to drive that point home.  He accepted the fifty.  "I guess I can give a former superior officer a discount." Fury barked a laugh, shaking his head.  "I forget you're from the Depression era.  You drive a hard bargain," he said.  "I don't want this one online." "Alright," Steve said, since Fury seemed intent on paying him for the commission. He suspected there was a bet of some kind at stake, but he couldn't quite figure out what.  The one thing he did know is that Fury made sure he could win before making a bet.  "What kind of drawing do you want?" Fury slid a picture towards him.  "I assume you recognize the kid." Steve did.  It was one of Clint's kids. "I was gonna ask for a quick doodle, but if you're taking me for fifty bucks, it better be good." "Can I ask why, sir?" Steve said, feeling it was a bit odd that Fury was asking him instead of Clint. "I may or may not be settling a score on whether godparents give better presents than parents and are cooler," Fury said.  "Clint and I agreed we'd pay the same price and see who won." Steve hadn't realized that Fury was one of the children's godparents.  It was surprisingly sweet, and Steve flipped the picture over to see it was dated from last month, with her full name of 'Lila Nicole Barton' inscribed on the back.  "Two weeks good enough for a deadline?" he asked, resolving to work extra hard on the art. "It'll do," Fury said.  "Her birthday's next month." "Then it'll be my pleasure, sir," Steve said, having the feeling that Clint was going to kill him for this.  Probably because of the other children's jealousy.  Still, now the fact that Fury wanted to pay him made a lot more sense. "I'll see you in two weeks then," Fury said with a nod, glancing over Steve's shoulder at what he'd been working on.  "Stark?  Really?" "It's for a request," Steve said, feeling his cheeks heat at Fury's eyebrows raising, though he couldn't pinpoint why. "Uh-huh.  Keep telling yourself that, Rogers," Fury said, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets before ambling off.  "Two weeks." Steve decided he'd do two drawings, one serious like Fury had asked for, and one of Lila as Black Widowbird next to Agent Furry.  After all, he did take the man for fifty, and friends and family got discounts if they were going to insist on paying. The photo he got of Lila holding the two drawings a month later was definitely worth Clint grousing about how the kids would never give him peace after that. * * * "So," Rhodey said, startling Steve out of his thoughts.  Steve looked up from the towel he'd been using to wipe off his post-run sweat and caught a protein bar before it hit him in the face. "So," Steve said, tugging off his running shoes. "We need to talk," Rhodey said. Even in the 40s, that was a pretty ominous phrase.  "Okay?" he said, wondering if he'd screwed up on the field.  Technically, he and Natasha were running the Avengers, but Rhodey was not only a higher-ranking officer, but also older and more experienced.  Steve knew better than to brush that off, especially if it was something in the field of air support. "Meet me in the kitchens after you've cleaned up," Rhodey replied, giving him a short wave as he left. Dread started to take over the pit in his stomach.  Steve forced down the protein bar and prepared for either a dressing-down or an argument that Tony would likely hear about.  And Tony... Best not to think about Tony, especially not when he'd definitely back Rhodey on anything. Thirty minutes later, Steve walked in to find Rhodey making waffles and omelettes, and Steve nearly walked back out again.  This was <I>bad</I>.  "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, going through every little thing he'd done in the past three weeks.  Was this about the War Machine drawing he'd done?  Had he misremembered the armor? Rhodey looked surprised.  "What gave you that idea?" Steve gestured to the waffles.  "You fall back on Tony-tactics even for the rest of us.  Blueberry waffles are his favorite." Rhodey laughed, so Steve figured he couldn't be in that much trouble.  Still, he sat down gingerly at the kitchen counter.  "Guess I do sort of tailor my interventions to Tony.  He's usually the only one I have to intervene with," Rhodey said. "Intervention?" Steve asked, trying to think if the others had complained about his sulking lately.  But Tony had managed two lunches this week and a movie to try to distract him from Bucky and Sam, so he didn't think it was that. "Intervention," Rhodey said more grimly, setting a plate of waffles in front of Steve. The omelette was still hot too.  When Rhodey didn't say anything more, Steve figured he was waiting for him to try the food. After pouring some syrup over the waffles, Steve took a bite.  "This is really good," he said, impressed.  It was mouth-wateringly good.  Once he could think properly again, he was going to have to sit down with Tony and come up with a tactic that would get Rhodey to make them more often. "Yeah, well, Tony can cook, but not particularly <I>well</I>.  If I wanted something a step above edible in college, I had to make it to the kitchen before Tony," Rhodey said with a grin as Steve started to eat in earnest.  Putting his own plate down as he sat next to Steve, Rhodey started to pour a surprising amount of syrup on his waffles. "Speaking of Tony..." "Hm?" Steve said around a bite. "When were you going to tell me you are in love with my best friend?" Steve was caught mid-swallow, and he ended up choking on the omelette.  As he coughed and sputtered, Rhodey pat his back.  "Yeah, that always works on Tony too," he said smugly, letting Steve know he'd been had. "Bastard," Steve gasped once he stopped hacking up a lung. "Language, Cap.  Tony was right about that foul mouth of yours." He hated both of them so much. "Done?" Rhodey asked innocently. Steve glared as he drew in another breath.  "I-I'm not -  I am not in love with Tony.  What made you think that?" Rhodey leaned back, shaking his head.  "Seriously, Cap?  You sulk for two weeks every time Tony has a business trip and misses your lunches together.  Not to mention your drawings you post." "I... don't sulk for two weeks," Steve said.  Rhodey didn't even grace that with an answer.  "And what do you mean about my drawings?" Rhodey picked up a tablet that had been on the counter, unlocking it and sliding it over to Steve.  He wondered how much Rhodey had set up in advance, then glanced through the tabs that were open.  A lot, apparently. The first tab was his Clint tag on Tumblr, followed by Natasha's and Thor's.  He had one for each of the Avengers set up, with Tony's in the far corner at the end.  He looked at Rhodey to see what he was supposed to make of this. "Anyone ever mention how bull-headed you are?" Rhodey said with a sigh.  "Notice anything about the quantities, Cap?" "Just because I post more of Tony than the others doesn't mean I'm in love with him," Steve said, not quite meeting Rhodey's eyes.  "He's popular for the requests.  And I can't...  I can't seem to get him <I>right</I>, so I have to keep practicing." "Sure, man.  River in Egypt," Rhodey said with a snort.  "Not that I disapprove, but the Tony Stark Defense Squad?" This time Steve flushed.  "They were being bullies," he said mulishly.  "If they have freedom of  speech to bad-mouth him, I'm free to have my own opinion." "Like I said, you're not getting any flak from me," Rhodey said.  "I'm just saying.  Even your fans think Tony is your favorite." Steve did not want to know how everyone else managed to keep a closer eye on his online presence than he did.  He bit into his waffle to give himself time to think. Sighing, Rhodey shook his head.  "Look, I just wanna know when you're going to make an honest man out of Tony, because God knows he needs it." Steve was never eating with Rhodey <I>ever again</I>, waffles or no.  After the second choking attempt, Steve glared.  "Does Tony know you're doing this?" "Tony is... whatever the reports say, he's not self-absorbed," Rhodey said, then tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Okay, maybe a little.  But most of it is that he can be a little <I>too</I> focused, and generally in his own world, not ours.  If it's not within his immediate sphere, he doesn't always notice.  Did you tell him about your Tumblr?" Thinking back, Steve realized he hadn't.  Tony had asked if he found the tablet useful, but not about posting online.  He hadn't pushed on that, and Steve had been grateful.  "No, I haven't," Steve answered. "Then he probably doesn't know," Rhodey said.  "He doesn't keep track of everyone's movements like some people think, and it's not my place to tell him.  But you should talk to him about it." "Not saying I'm agreeing about the love thing, but why?" Steve asked.  "Tony is..."  Out of Steve's league, that's for certain.  There was no way Tony would go for a kid from Brooklyn, much less someone as stuck in the past as Steve was. "Because I like it when Tony is happy," Rhodey said, his shoulders slumping.  "Which isn't that often lately.  He was happy when he and Pepper were together, happier than I've seen him in a while.  But now that they've broken up..." Rhodey broke off some of his omelette, but didn't eat it.  Instead he stared down at the plate without really seeing the food.  "Look, Cap.  I'm not saying it's easy being in Tony's orbit, but it's <I>worth</I> it.  And I think you know that already.  He's still too caught up in Pepper to realize it, but he's pretty far gone on you too.  And I'd like two of my friends to be happy." "Friends."  Steve flushed, smiling shyly in spite of the topic.  The fact that Rhodey considered him a friend meant a lot, and Steve hoped he could be worthy of that friendship, even if being a matchmaker probably wasn't one of Rhodey's strongest abilities. "Just think about it, okay?" Rhodey said, finally taking a bite of his own food. Steve didn't know how to respond to that, so he nodded.  He had enough food for thought to last him for a while in the very least. * * * As Steve sketched a picture of Rhodey smiling in uniform, Steve thought about what he had said.  <I>Was</I> he in love with Tony? The idea seemed preposterous, but the more he thought about it, the more Steve started accidentally drawing Tony's eyes. He ended up having to erase Rhodey's face, and start over again. Sure, Tony was charming when he wasn't actively trying to piss you off. Steve <I>liked</I> his lunches with Tony, even more when the super heroing business was slow and they talked about other things. And Tony was obviously attractive, no one could deny that, especially not when he wore that red shirt under his suit and took off his jacket to reveal the vest underneath. And yes, he worried about how Tony never seemed to get much sleep, and he hated it when Steve said the wrong thing and left a sad expression on Tony's face.  Or worse, when he set Tony on the defensive.  But he hated when that happened with the others too.  He'd always <I>known</I> about his attraction to Peggy, so it wasn't like this sort of thing usually snuck up on him. With a sigh, Steve gave up on the Rhodey drawing for now.  He'd return to it later when he was more focused and could give it the attention it deserved. "Okay, you're sulking worse than usual," Natasha said as she walked in the common room.  "What is it this time?  Tony cancelled lunch or Sam with bad news about Bucky?" Steve winced, then crossed his arms over his chest.  "Those aren't the only two things I think about." "I said <I>sulking</I>, not thinking." He refused to believe she had a point about that. "I can use other means to find out," Natasha said casually, and he knew that wasn't a threat of violence.  "I don't want to, but you're driving me and the team crazy, and that will start to affect the team work." Steve sighed.  He <I>could</I> leave to avoid her, figuring that was the reason she gave him the courtesy of the warning.  It was a warped definition of consent, but their lives had never exactly been normal. He was going to do this with more dignity than letting her ease him into dropping his guard, however.  "Am I..." he asked tentatively, then steeled himself.  "Am I in love with Tony?" Natasha snorted.  "No shit, Sherlock," she said.  He smiled weakly, and she did a double-take.  "Wait, that was a serious question?  That's a little far in denial even for you, Steve." "Yes, it's a serious question," Steve admitted grumpily, ignoring the latter half of her statement. "Steve, I can do a lot of things, but I can't answer that question for you." Natasha's voice was gentle as she placed a hand on his arm. "But can you tell me what it looks like from the outside?" he asked, because he trusted her judgement on most things. Natasha regarded him, probably weighing the pros and cons of letting him figure it out himself versus telling him.  She decided on the latter, and Steve was quietly relieved. "The only ones you're like this with are Bucky and Peggy, and you don't look at Bucky the way you look at Tony," she said.  "You brighten up considerably when Tony makes it to an Avengers meeting, and I know the others think you're completely gone on him.  The art you draw of him feels almost like he's alive on the paper, more so than for any of the rest of us." Steve soaked that in, taking her words at face value and resisting the urge to deny it. They felt true, even if he hadn't wanted to see it. "And I know you've already figured all of that out," Natasha said with a sigh.  "So I don't know why you're asking me." She did know why, because Steve had needed to hear it, but he ignored the jab at his denial.  Except now, he had no clue where to go from here. If he was in love with Tony, what did he do with that information? "I'd offer to set you up, but he wouldn't trust it from me," Natasha said, as if sensing his thoughts.  "Rhodey might be able to pull something off though.  He and Tony have been each other's wingmen in the past." That was the last thing he needed.  "I'll pass, thanks," he said.  He wasn't sure what he wanted, but having his hand forced was not it. Natasha shrugged.  "Just saying.  You don't tap that ass soon, it might get taken.  It <I>is</I> a really fine ass, after all.  Don't tell him I said that, though." Steve opened his mouth to argue, then shut it.  Tony <I>did</I> have a nice posterior, and any attempt to save his dignity would backfire the same way his comment about Tony cussing had. He wasn't in a hurry to repeat that sort of merciless teasing. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, and by the look on her face, his tone was probably still on the stuffy and judgemental side.  He ignored her laugh and went back to drawing Rhodey.  He would finish this picture even if it killed him. * * * Natasha's words followed him throughout the week.  Would it be bad if someone else made Tony happy? It's not like Steve was particularly good at relationships.  Or very interesting at all, outside of the uniform.  He was old-fashioned and still not handling the future as well as he should have been.  Oh, he could assimilate and fit in, but really accepting things...  he still had a long way to go. "-figured we'd just put your shield on EBay and let it go to the-" "What?" Steve said, snapping out of his thoughts. "<I>Now</I> I've got your attention," Tony said, rolling his eyes. Steve really needed to stop drifting off around Tony.  Especially since he'd been thinking about Tony. "Sorry," he said, hoping he wasn't blushing too badly, or if he was, that Tony would take it as embarrassment for being caught.  They were at one of their usual restaurants today, Steve feeling less inclined to branch out with all that was going on. "You okay, Cap?"  Tony asked. At least this time Tony hadn't turned defensive.  He looked concerned though, and Steve didn't want that.  He didn't know what to say to soothe the worry, however. Tony was surprisingly patient as Steve tried to find the right phrase.  Finally, Steve sighed and shook his head.  "Sorry.  Just thinking about a lot of things lately."  Not his best redirection, but it was better than silence. "Bucky?" Tony asked, looking away.  Something changed in Tony, but it was so subtle that Steve almost missed it.  Even now, Steve couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was the sudden tension in Tony's shoulders or the cagey, darting glance away that tipped him off.  But for the first time Steve <I>noticed</I>, and he quickly reviewed previous times they had spoken of Bucky in his head.  Tony had always been so supportive of finding Bucky, and it made Steve feel a little guilty for not telling Tony about his parents.  The guilt had made it easy to miss the split-second reaction to Bucky, but while he didn't have a completely eidetic memory, it was close.  And now that he noticed, he could see it in other memories as well. What he still couldn't decide was <I>what</I> the look meant. "Not Bucky," Steve said finally, then shook his head.  "Not entirely, at any rate.  Sam's coming back next week because the lead was a bust, but there's been something else I've been thinking about." It would have been an easy out to say Bucky was the cause of his inattention, and Steve had considered the strategic value of a retreat.  But he also knew that the old adage rang true: Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  He was curious about how Tony would react. "Oh?" Tony asked.  And there the change was again, except this time it was more open.  Relaxed, almost.  "So what causes the Great Captain America to <I>not</I> sigh after his long lost best friend?  Though, sorry to hear about that, by the way.  I can put out feelers again if you want?" The frustrating part was that he <I>knew</I> Natasha  would have had the answer to why the change was important by now, but she wasn't here and it still eluded him.  "I <I>do</I> think about other things," Steve said, trying his hardest not to sulk. "Sure, sure.  Just not about our lunch meetings," Tony mumbled, low enough that Steve had probably not been meant to hear it, but people tended to forget Steve had better than average senses.  Tony had sounded almost bitter. Steve quickly took inventory of how many times he'd drifted off during the actual 'business' parts of their lunches and came to the conclusion Tony might have made a few incorrect conclusions about Steve's occasional distractions. "It's your voice," Steve said, knowing it wouldn't <I>fix</I> things exactly, and it would embarrass the hell out of him, but it was better than nothing. "My voice puts you off?" Tony asked, then softer, "That's a first." "Not put off," Steve said, possibly too quickly.  "It's just... soothing.  I <I>like</I> listening to you talk.  I feel more relaxed. Comfortable." Tony was looking at him like he'd grown a second head, and Steve felt a blush creep down his neck.  He rubbed at his forehead, trying not to feel self-conscious and failing.  "I just... feel at ease enough to drift off a bit, I guess," Steve said, which now that he thought about it, was no mean feat.  He'd been in enough battles to know letting his guard down could get him killed.  But with Tony, that wasn't part of his focus, to constantly scan the room, looking for an enemy that wasn't there. "You might as well come down to the workshop then, rather than the lunch meetings," Tony grumbled.  "I talk just as much there and at least <I>someone</I> listens." "I could do that?" Steve asked, blown away by the offer.  If it was an offer, he reminded himself.  Tony didn't exactly sound happy, and only Rhodey and Ms. Potts could go down there.  On rare occasions, Natasha went down as well, but Steve was never sure if she was allowed or if she found other ways. "Sure?" Tony said, confusion replacing the annoyance in his tone.  "Why not?  Just give me a heads up if you're serious." "I'd like that," Steve said.  He nearly added 'as long as we can also go to dinner', but decided he wasn't quite up to that yet. "Okay?" Tony asked, apprehensive and baffled. "Thank you," Steve replied, absently sorting through his schedule to see when he'd be free to visit the Tower. "Right," Tony said, still not quite believing it.  "Anyway, back to the point, Mr. Deflection.  What are you caught up on?" '<I>You</I>,' Steve wanted to say, but again, he couldn't quite find the voice. "Nothing really important.  Sorry, just..." Tony closed off again, and this time Steve could easily see it in the way his shoulders hunched over.  "Well, I've got a meeting with Monica to prepare for, so I'll-" <I>Monica?</I>  Steve grabbed Tony's hand as he stood up, well aware it was crossing a line, but Natasha's warning about someone else 'tapping that ass' made it too hard to throttle the impulse. "You gonna let go of my hand, Jack?" Tony groused, something in the name telling Steve it was a reference. "<I>No</I>," Steve said, and there was a bit of sulking in his voice, but he didn't care. But he did have a decision to make.  Unfortunately, he couldn't muster up the courage to actually ask, which was his main problem.  He'd been lucky with Peggy.  She'd seen right through him. He always was better with actions than with words.  Without consciously thinking about it, Steve pulled Tony's hand towards him. "Steve, what are you-" He kissed the back of Tony's hand before he could second-guess his actions.  He closed his eyes as he did, not sure if he wanted to see Tony's reaction or not. When Tony didn't pull away or make a sound, Steve looked up.  Tony was blushing, the color chasing across his cheeks faster than Steve thought possible.  He was pretty sure Tony Stark didn't Blush before this.  Tony's eyes were wide and flustered, but Steve saw the emotion in them before it could be hidden away.  This was <I>wanted</I>. "Monica Chang is the second in command of security.  She works with Maria," Tony babbled, gesturing absently with his free hand. "Oh," Steve said, feeling a little foolish.  Then lightheaded, because Tony hadn't actually tried to pull away.  "We could go back to the Tower and-" "I don't know what you've read in the tabloids, but I am a dinner and flowers kind of guy now," Tony said. Steve raised an eyebrow, not believing it in the slightest. "And I really do have a meeting with Monica," Tony amended with a sigh. "Okay," Steve said, turning Tony's hand over and kissing his palm.  "Dinner and flowers first.  Then going back to the Tower." "I thought you 40s boys went slower," Tony said, shaking his head and looking a little dazed. "'I'm shipping out tomorrow' usually means faster relationships," Steve replied, though Tony had a point.  Steve <I>wasn't</I> the sort to take things this fast normally.  But it felt like they'd been dancing around this for a while, even if Steve hadn't seen it, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.  He'd waited too long with Peggy, and missed his chance.  He wasn't going to let that chance slip away again.  "I'll see you at eight?" "<I>Tomorrow</I>," Tony said, but he didn't seem that bothered by how fast they were going.  And if Tony actually wanted to slow down, Steve would wait for that.  He just wanted his intentions clear. Steve gave Tony's hand another squeeze before letting him go.  He had a date to plan, after all. He didn't miss the waitress's "<I>Finally</I>" as they walked out, however, though he was pretty sure she had waited until they were out of earshot. Finally indeed. * * * A month later, Tony was stretched out on Steve's bed at the Avengers compound. Moonlight strained in through the glass windows, illuminating the peaceful expression on Tony's face and the scars down his chest. A pen light wasn't ideal, but Steve's fingers had itched too much not to draw.  On paper this time, because he definitely wasn't posting this one online.  This one was for himself.  Steve might have a nearly photographic memory, but he didn't want to miss anything about this night. He was mostly finished, just adding some shading to Tony's chest, when the man in question started to stir.  Tony reached out to the other side of the bed as he rolled over, then shivered as he blinked wearily.  "Steve?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. "Over here," Steve said, setting aside the drawing for now. Tony relaxed, flopping back down.  "What are you doing over <I>there</I>?  It's cold." "You have blankets," Steve replied, though he moved back over to the bed. "Fancy expensive blankets that you made sure all of the Avengers had." "You're better than a blanket," Tony grumbled, then sighed as Steve slipped back under the covers.  Tony proceeded to claim Steve's space as his, impersonating an octopus as he sprawled over Steve's chest.  There was a sleepy pout in his voice as he spoke again.  "Don't go away this time." Steve chuckled, then kissed Tony's temple.  "Okay," he agreed, because it was probably bad form to leave before one's partner had woken up on their first night together, even if it was for a drawing. "Gonna put it on your Tumblr?" Tony asked, just as Steve had started to drift off again. "You know about that?" Steve asked in exasperation.  Why did no one tell him these things? "Recognized the style when someone shared a picture on Facebook.  The S.R. initials also gave it away," Tony muttered, this time the pout unmistakable.  "I had to find out through <I>Facebook</I>, Steve.  That's not cool." "Sorry," Steve said, rubbing Tony's shoulders.  "Didn't really think you guys would actually be that interested in my art." Tony snorted instead of replying, clinging to Steve a bit tighter.  "So is going up on Tumblr?" he finally asked with a small wriggle that Steve assumed was supposed to be sexy.  "I don't mind.  Everyone's seen it before." "Not that one, no.  That one's for me," Steve said, pulling the covers over them as Tony's lips brushed over his neck. "Hm," Tony said, and Steve had thought that would be the end of it.  But Tony surprised him again as he nosed closer.  "Then I have a request." "Oh, yeah?" Steve asked, amused at how Tony was obviously still half asleep but still managing to hold a conversation.  Never could keep the man quiet for long, though how much Tony would remember later was up to debate.  Steve wasn't the type to talk much to begin with, so he was okay with Tony filling the silences. "Hm," Tony said again, giving a quiet sigh that sent shivers down Steve's spine.  "Captain Americat and Iron Mouse in post-coital cuddles." "I'm <I>not</I> drawing a cat and a mouse that have just had sex, Tony," Steve said firmly.  "That's disturbing." Tony pushed up on Steve's chest, blinking down at him owlishly.  "You draw them kissing and holding hands all the time.  Even without requests." Steve blushed, because he really had no excuse for that.  His denial had been pretty strong for a while.  "That's different," Steve said, stubbornly pulling Tony back down. "Fine.  Normal cuddles then," Tony said, squirming slightly and reminding Steve that while he had pulled on a pair of sweatpants to draw, Tony was still naked. "I can do normal cuddles," Steve said, already going through a couple of poses mentally. "Good," Tony said, burrowing against Steve again.  "Now go back to sleep and don't leave this time." "Bossy," Steve said, running his hands through Tony's tousled hair. "You made me a <I>mouse</I>," Tony muttered, nipping lightly at Steve's collar in retaliation. Steve chuckled, bringing Tony's hand up to kiss his fingers.  "But a cute one.  Go back to sleep, Tony.  I'll draw it in the morning... <I>after</I> you wake up." * * * Iron Mouse was drawn in a normal suit, curled up against Captain Americat's belly. The picture gained more notes than Steve thought it would, in addition to several comments about the smug, possessive smirk the cat wore.   <I>'Cat got something better than a canary this time,'</I> one reblogger said with a heart emote. Tony hadn't remembered any of that conversation.  He had been, as Steve suspected, mostly still asleep.  Considering Tony's face when Steve told him that he'd been the one to request that particular drawing, Steve rather thought he had gotten better than a canary after all. ~FIN~

[gaiienpokedex]

The queen! Whew! As mentioned, the Privant line has a wide selection of middle forms, but they can all evolve into Reginant and retain their stat balance, just powered up. They might have slightly different forms and colors as well but I’m not gonna draw that just now haha.

It crossed my mind that Reginant could be the female-only evolution and Oberant the male-only one, but I dislike gender-split evolutions. In addition, pokemon gender is irrelevant for evolution or breeding in the Gods and Demons universe. ;) All pokemon can be any gender and any two (or more) pokemon can breed, since pokemon are more on the side of being elemental spirits and less on that of animals.

Trivia: Kalamatos in Gods and Demons was a Meditant a long (loooooong) time ago. (Part 4 of 4)

Privant → (lv. 25) Sarjant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Power Lens equipped) or (Fire Stone) Pyrant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Power Anklet equipped) or (Thunder Stone) Fulgurant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Power Bracer equipped) or (Citrine Gem) Soldant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Power Belt equipped) or (Kunzite Gem) Rhinant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Power Weight equipped) or (Crystal Gem) Quarzant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Power Band equipped) or (Dawn Stone) Meditant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Choice Band equipped) or (Dusk Stone) Reclusant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant Privant → (lv. 25, Choice Specs equipped) or (Shiny Stone) Oberant → (lv. 55, Dragon Scale) Reginant

#077 - Reginant (Regina (latin, queen) + ant) Queen Pokémon Bug/Dragon-type They are rare to see in the wild as generally only one will lead a nest. They are long-lived and are figures of wisdom as well as destructive power. Base Stats: (Varies*) (600) Ability: Intimidate/[Queenly Majesty] Learnset: Dragonbreath, Dragon Claw, Outrage, Imperial Wrath, Wing Attack, Air Slash, Hurricane, Hyper Beam, Crunch, Guillotine, Flamethrower, Scary Face, Dive Bomb, Airdrop, Attack Order, Defend Order, Heal Order

*Base Stats:

From Sarjant: 100/100/100/100/100/100 From Pyrant: 90/90/95/120/95/110 From Fulgurant: 90/90/95/110/95/120 From Soldant: 90/120/95/90/95/110 From Rhinant: 120/85/140/85/85/85 From Quarzant: 120/90/95/95/110/90 From Meditant: 95/90/90/110/120/95 From Reclusant: 85/120/85/85/85/140 From Oberant: 85/85/85/140/85/120

[taegilibrary]

someone requested a part 2 for the 'pretend to be my date' au a LOOoooONG time ago but i had just now seen it so here it is :^) ~~~~~~~~ the next time taehyung sees yoongi is in mcdonald's yet again, athree weeks after the incident. the silver haired boy is getting ketchup from the pump before taking it back to his table, in which it wasn't just his table. a girl appearing to be older than him sat at the opposite seat of him, dipping her fries into the ketchup just placed. taehyung neared the table, passing through strangers making their way to tables and occasionally bumping into a shoulder. he couldn't take his eyes off the girl though and she seemed to notice, looking up with a confused stare. yoongi stopped mid bite of his food to turn around and see what she was staring at to be met with taehyung's icy eyes. "taehyung." yoongi mumbles around the chicken nugget, eyes wide like he wasn't expecting taehyung to show up? he texted him four hours ago asking if he wasn't busy, to which taehyung replied with no because he has no self control. he was busy though, drowning in papers for his acting class and illegally downloading music- he would say it's his favorite pastime but what is it when it's always in the present? "yoongi." taehyung bites back, quite bluntly. he doesn't take his eyes off the girl in front of yoongi and she senses the awkwardness. her eyes gaze over at yoongi before collecting her food and a small purse. "you know, thanks for the meal. i'll see you friday." she says, giving yoongi a quick wave bye and leaving. yoongi looks up at taehyung who's still hovering over him in the small table. "sit down." yoongi demands, his eyes are soft though and his demeanor is unreadable. "i haven't even ordered yet." taehyung says, crossing his arms and shifting back a few steps. yoongi pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts taehyung would guess. "okay, then go order and sit down here. i'll wait." taehyung orders a buttermilk chicken sandwich with fries and a large coke, quickly handing over the change. he looks over his shoulder to find yoongi looking at him. he gives a simple head nod at taehyung and continues eating, chicken nuggets still being dipped in ranch sauce. taehyung walks over carrying his tray of food and places it across from where yoongi sits. they sit in silence for a few minutes until taehyung decides to break it. "you could've told me you were dating someone." yoongi's fries fall from his fingers as he splutters, "excuse me?" "why didn't you tell me you was straight?" taehyung shrugs, not trying to make much of eye contact with yoongi. it's embarrassing to say the least, he has a crush on a fucking straight guy who's dating someone already. he's snapped out of his thoughts by the sentence coming from yoongi's lips. "taehyung i'm not." "then who-" taehyung begins to ask, referring to the girl sitting with yoongi earlier. "oh my god- you thought- oh god. gross bro, that's my fucking sister." yoongi says confused before his face transforms into utter horror. "oh. this is awkward then." taehyung gnaws on the inside of his cheek. yoongi sighs loudly before eating a fry. "i'm pan taehyung." "yeah, my personal pan." taehyung winks at the older boy. yoongi doesn't show anything, no remorse or giddiness. "you know- like pizzas you order that are made for you specifically- nevermind." taehyung begins to explain his cheesy line(pun not intended) "you're strange." yoongi's lips turn up for a moment before his hand, meant for his nuggets, are being replaced with taehyung's own hand. it's greasy and disgusting, but taehyung thinks it's amazing.

[kryptaria00q]

Sunday Six: From the Cold

Not even close to six, but it’s been a loooooong time since I’ve posted anything original, and it feels good to shake out the rust.

I’ll be posting this story as soon as it’s done. Could be a week, could be a month. Enjoy!

“Something’s wrong,” James said quietly.

John darted a glance across the table. James’ eyes, usually softened by the firelight on nights like this, were agent-sharp. John turned away, hiding a shiver, and shook his head. There were rules to nights like this, rules that allowed them to cross the boundary between Double O and Quartermaster, rules that allowed them to be that rarest of things in their world: people. Just James and John.

James’ fingers inched toward the no-man’s-land in the centre of the table. Calluses rasped over white linen before he turned his hand over, inviting John’s touch. “Darling.”

Something inside John melted at the warm tone even as he remembered hearing that exact word, that exact voice, just a week before, though not addressed to him. Damn their comms gear for transmitting so clearly that John couldn’t detect a hint of difference.

But it was different. They were different. They were outside MI6, badges off, weapons locked away.

“It’s work,” John answered, touching James’ hand without lingering. The brief reassurance was the best he could manage. He risked another quick look to see if it had worked.

A frown line made its brief appearance between James’ brows. But then, with a nod, James drew his hand back. “All right.” Smiling, he gestured with his fork, and said, “Try the calamari.”

Relieved, John pushed thoughts of work out of his mind and tried to focus on the excellent meal, but not even James’ cooking was enough to distract him completely from six anomalous reports.

No, they were hardly reports. More like footnotes lacking any actual information to give them context.

A whisper of sound intruded on his thoughts. He looked up from the half-empty plate where he’d been drawing patterns in red sauce and saw the seat across from him was empty of everything but James’ suit jacket. John’s stomach flipped in momentary anxiety before he told himself that James hadn’t walked out on him. Couldn’t walk out on him, actually, given that they were in James’ flat.

But James had done the next best thing. He’d gone out to the balcony, leaving the doors open. John rested his fork on the edge of his plate, pushed back from the table, and followed.

“Q,” James said without turning from his surveillance of the night, as though searching for any potential threat — though what threat he expected to see from seventeen storeys up, John couldn’t imagine.

“This hardly counts as ‘outside your flat,’” John scolded, though mildly.

James’ smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you rather go back to the office?”

“No.” Abandoning the mantle of John Llewelyn — a man who was becoming more and more unfamiliar — the Quartermaster of MI6 said, “I take it we’re secure here.”

James scoffed. “Naturally.”

Two steps brought Q closer to the railing and all that empty air between him and the pavement. His skin crawled, and though he refused to show it, he knew his agent was all too aware of his fears. Just as his agent was aware that his thoughts had been elsewhere all night.

“We’ve had six signals in the last three weeks,” he began, turning back to face James. “Twenty days ago, the blinds at a particular flat in Moscow were turned up at a particular angle. Thirteen days ago, a car was parked at a particular location with the wheels turned toward the kerb. Eight days ago, two of four bulbs in a park lamp were noted to be burned out. Five days ago, a different car was parked in the same location, wheels turned the same way. Three —”

“This is all a bit old school, isn’t it?” James interrupted.

Q’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “Three days ago,” he continued, “two disparate streetlamps, these in a parking lot, were both extinguished. Yesterday, the blinds were again turned up.”

James took a deep breath, and Q saw him hold back his objection. Instead he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, eyes going distant.

With patience John had never had before his unexpected promotion, Q waited.

Finally, James met Q’s eyes. “That’s six signals.”

“Six signals,” Q confirmed, “each generating a notification to our embassy in Moscow. Each notification was routed through our Secure Intake Server —”

“Our what?” James asked sharply.

Q bit back a sigh. “Tiago Rodriguez exploited a vulnerability in our external communications firewall. Since then, I’ve had all incoming signals routed through SIS.”

James snorted. “We are SIS.”

“Secure Intake Server was the best name I could come up with at the time,” Q snapped, already heartily sick of the often-repeated criticism since he’d implemented the system just seven weeks ago. “I’d like to see you rebuild MI6 from the ground up — literally — and come up with clever acronyms for very necessary modernization processes —”

“My apologies, Quartermaster,” James said, stepping close, though he didn’t touch. “You were saying, the Secure Intake Server?”

Q’s anger deflated, driven into the shadows by James’ proximity. His tie was off, shirt unbuttoned at the throat. Five o’clock shadow touched his jaw with highlights of pale silver and gold. He hovered somewhere between the infuriating agent 007 and the man Q was quickly coming to like — love, perhaps — in a way that scrambled Q’s senses.

My god, you’re gorgeous, he thought, though the inches between their bodies — inches they’d negotiated to preserve the boundaries between professional and personal — reminded him to keep the words to himself.

Instead, he took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of rain and James’ aftershave, and continued, “The SIS notifications were lost because they were routed directly to a deadbox — a catch-all for inactive email addresses.”

“Inactive...” James frowned again. “Whose email address?”

Q licked his lips before he could stop himself, knowing he couldn’t avoid falling into this particular trap. “It was one of M’s secure emails,” he said softly. “Not Mallory. Your M.”

[darkcloud-kcalifornia]

Hello Book of Darkness my old friend, it’s time to talk with you again.  Specifically, it’s time for the final episode of A’s, “Stand By Ready”.

* Over in Hayate’s medbay room on the Arthra Reinforce has bad news.  They might have destroyed the protection program… but her own programing is still screwed up and she’ll create another one just like it before too long.  And they can’t just reset her to factory defaults as those got lost a loooooong time ago.  This is why keeping track of those disks they give you is important. As is backing up your data regularly.

* Plus side though, Hayate is fine aside from her brief bout of unconsciousness.  She’s no longer getting fed on and should eventually make a full recovery.  I’m not so sure about her regaining the use of her legs soon though.  Sure, Reinforce says that, but how long has she been without use of those things?  She might have to contend with a bit of muscular atrophy even after the magical damage is gone.

* Also, the problem with the protection program is easy enough to fix.  You just have to kill Reinforce!  The Wolkenritter assume this would also kill themselves and seem resigned to it.  There’s something very disturbing about seeing a seemingly 9-year-old-if-not-younger girl contemplating suicide.  Reinforce assures them that isn’t the case though.

* Meanwhile Nanoha and co are informed of the “kill Reinforce” plan.  Not Surprisingly they hate it, but Chrono and Yuuno are aware of the necessity.

* Reinforce requests while standing on Earth in the snow that Nanoha and Fate be the ones to do the dirty deed.

* Of course the little girls are having a hard time seeing this as anything but horribly sad.  And yeah, while Reinforce has her reasons for wanting it to be the two who helped her master thus far to be the ones to see the job through to the end, it’s still pretty messed up that a couple of kids are about to aid in suicide.

* Hayate wakes up in her bed back home and senses what is about to happen thanks to her connection to the Tome.  Because this wasn’t sad enough already.

* It’s kinda sweet how Reinforce takes the time to say farewell to RH and Bardiche as well, device to device.

* I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for Hayate to push her wheelchair through the snow like that. Sure, it’s not that deep right now, but that’s still gotta be a bit tough.

* Hayate of course begs Reinforce not to go, claiming she can handle things.  But of course she can’t.  But how could anybody expect her to know that?  Or blame her for reacting the way she is?  After everything she and Reinfroce went through, and Hayate’s desperate attempt to save her, there’s no way she could just accept that for Reinforce, this is the happy ending.  The one where she knows her master will no longer have to live in pain and dread. The one where she’ll no longer be forced to destroy countless people due to madness.

* FYI, this scene is so good, but also totally tearjerking.  I had to take a break during it.

* And this line in particular is completely unfair!

* Reinforce makes her last request, that Hayate’s next device be named after her so she can still be there for her master in some form.

* The deed is done. The only remnant is the cross-like decoration on the Book’s cover.

*  Cut to Lindy and, um… purple haired not-Lindy (I forget her name) expositing to each other on an elevator.  Graham turned in his resignation from the TSAB over his role in things, but he’s planning on continuing to support Hayate financially, and once she’s on her own confess to her what his role in all of this was.

* Nanoha’s feeling a little down after all of this.  Can’t imagine why!  Fate tells her of her plan to become an Enforcer someday, to hopefully bring cases like hers and Hayate’s to a decent end ASAP.  Nanoha doesn’t think she’d be very good at Enforcement, but wants to continue working with the TSAB so her magic goes to a good use.

* Yuuno in the meantime has been offered the position of Infinite Librarian, on account of his actually being able to find things in there.  OK, so the title is just “librarian of the Infinite Library”, but Infinite Librarian sounds cooler so that’s what I’m going with.

* The next day Nanoha, Hayate, Fate, and the rest are going to a Christmas Party at Suzuka’s, where hopefully many explanations about what just happened Christmas Eve will be forthcoming.  Otherwise Arisa will probably have to be admitted to a psychiatric ward.  As for Hayate’s future, she and the Wolkenritter are being put on probation for almost destroying the world, with community service. But Hayate is also planning on continuing in the mystical science arts afterward.

* Nanoha leaves a letter for her family that morning, saying she, Fate, and Lindy have something to talk to them about.  Kyouya seems to already know what it’s about.  I told ya he was shadowing her!

* It seems there are already rumors about Nanoha becoming a combat instructor for the TSAB.  I’d love to know who started those and when, as I thought she hadn’t made up her mind about that until an incident during the time skip.  I guess they just know a quality “befriender” when they see one.

* Arf tries to get Zafira to join her in the ways of the puppy.

* And so the family and friends are filled in on what’s been happening behind the scenes.  I can’t help but notice that Kyouya, Momoko, and Shiro don’t seem very surprised.  Though Miyuki is either a better actor or was left out of the loop.

* And now we cut to 6 years later, so the ending credits sequence can tell us what everybody got up to after that.  Which I feel actually is important, as one of the things that’s separated the heroes and the villains in this series is their ability to move on past the pain they’ve experienced.  Precia and Graham weren’t able to.  But despite being hurt fairly badly themselves, Fate and Hayate did.

* Hayate is sending a package to Graham, and is currently a Special Investigations Officer.  Should I be calling her Detective Yagami?  Huh, name sounds familiar for some reason…

* Detective Yagami runs off, while outside Vita is still loli, and walking a puppy-form Zafira.

* Lindy has stepped down from actual ship Captaining, and now just sticks to office work.

* Fate is an officer at the moment, and far more importantly she calls Lindy “mother”.

* Chrono has taken over the Captain’s seat of the Arthra.  And finally hit puberty.  Personally I think it would have been funnier if he had the deeper voice but kept a Krillin-like height, but whatever.

* Yuuno became the Infinite Librarian and a published scholar in the field of ancient history, but Amy teases him about not getting anywhere romantically with Nanoha.

* And yes, Nanoha is a drill sergeant, despite not having graduated from middle school yet.  I like to imagine her dropping by the teacher’s lounge in her mundane school because she needs somebody to grouse to who gets the frustration of having hard-headed students.  After the fifth or so time this happens the teachers stop questioning it, assume she’s talking about a junior martial arts class or something, and just save a spot for her mug.

* Graham is still retired with his two catgirls out in the country.  His beard seems bushier.  Well, I guess there’s no real reason to keep himself to military standards now, is there?

* The show ends with the three magical girls on a roof pulling out their devices, with confirmation that yes, Hayate named the next one Reinforce too.

 And that’s it for Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha A’s!  This season is just so good.  The dramatic beats really hit hard, and the ending isn’t entirely happy, but it is shown that everybody was able to continue their lives afterward, and if the moment was sad the future was bright.  I absolutely love this ending.

 As for the next season, I’m going to go ahead and do it, though I’ll probably wait until next month so I can at least feel like I’m getting my monies worth when I have to sign up for something I don’t particularly want to get at it.  Oh well.  Won’t be all bad.  There might be some other interesting shows, and at least the few online purchases I do make should come quicker for the time I have it.  And apparently The Tick is going to be a thing again.  That might be neat.

[robotslenderman]

MOAR ME Turian Headcanon

(More of my headcanon -- baby turians, Citadel relay statue and Keeper “religion”, what it’s like for a turian to romance a human)

Moar turian headcanon, based on turian languages and bonding. It’s loooooong, so I cut it. I come up with so much worldbuilding headcanon all the time but uh, I never realised just how much until I wrote all this out and saw how long it was. Oops.

Turians are shorter than most aliens up until puberty, which starts at around 9/10 years of age when they’re about 4 feet high, at which point they skyrocket. By the time they’re the age of majority, at 15 years old, they’re as tall as mature adult humans.

Turian vocal chords also don’t develop until puberty. Until then, they communicate with whistles, purrs, growls, rumbles, etc -- a language sophisticated enough that adult turians can understand them, but too basic and context-reliant for universal translators. Aside from that, it’s basically seen as its own language -- there’s a sound for “sir”, a sound for “fuck you”, a sound for “hungry pls feed me”, a sound for “I’m hurt”, etc.

It’s considered a private, home-language -- much like how someone living in Australia might speak English in public but then switch to their native language at home, turians never use this language in public but will use it at home (in addition to their native, spoken tongue) around immediate family, close extended relatives, mates and very, very close friends. It’s considered too intimate to use around anyone else. They’ll use it at home to supplement their spoken language -- in combination, not in an either/or fashion. It’s almost always the language a turian uses to say “I love you”, which can confuse lovers of other species at first.

There are, however, exceptions. Adult turians will use this language with any child, no matter who’s watching, so long as the child is “young enough”. Adult turians might also use it to soothe spooked animals, or incredibly shaken crime/disaster victims. C-Sec officers and hospital staff tend to use it a lot in their line of work.

The “child language” is region-dependent -- much like any other language, different sounds mean different things depending on where a turian grew up. But because of the limited “vocabulary” and how context-dependent a sound is, a kid can generally understand someone who speaks another “child language” pretty quickly, and adults can likewise pick up a kid’s native language and adapt to it.

Who adapts to whom depends on rank -- if a child turian is speaking to, say, the Primarch, the child will adapt to the Primarch’s child tongue as a sign of respect. If a C-Sec officer is trying to soothe a shaken child, the officer will adapt their language to the child’s. If two foreigners raise a child in a new region and the child goes to school and winds up picking up a new child language, the kid will end up using two different child languages and won’t have a problem switching between the two.

Children learn the “child language” from their parents. Adult turians communicate with newborns and toddlers exclusively in this language (which is how children learn it to begin with), but as children get to around four years old, adults start combining the child tongue with their adult tongue. By then the children have already begun to learn the adult tongue simply through watching and listening to their parents, but won’t be able to learn to speak it until puberty.

Child turians learn to read and write long before they are able to physically speak, and tend to use this method of communicating in classrooms (eg, to communicate the right answer during a verbal quiz, which is more common in an alien/Citadel school than a turian one). It can be very disorienting for aliens to be IM’d by a squeaky growly turian kid.

Much like adults do with their mates, teenaged turians still learning to use their vocal chords will use the child tongue in combination with the spoken tongue with other kids and close teachers, but will make a great effort to use only the adult tongue with adults and teachers they don’t know well. It can be difficult at first, but adults in most regions are very, very patient with letting the young take their time learning to make the new sounds, and while it’s totally fine to coach the young through making new sounds, it’s taboo to rush them or show any signs of impatience.

Turians mate for life (metaphorically speaking). Unlike humans, who tend to be serial monogamists or even poly, turians fall in love only once. They can crush on just about anyone before they are “mated” (meaning, fallen in love, not literally had sex), but once they’re attached to someone enough and cross the threshold, that’s it. It’s considered a sign of very bad character if a turian doesn’t alert someone to their growing feelings before they cross the threshold.

While it doesn’t excuse his dickery, this is the biggest reason why Septimus Oraka was totally fucked up by how his relationship with Sha’ira turned out. Most turians would roll their eyes because you shouldn’t have gotten attached to her, she’s the Consort, you should have known better and would also sneer at him for how he reacted to it -- but they’d also sympathise, because ouch.

In cross-species relationships, this was rarely a problem before humans came onto the scene -- asari are widely educated in other species and don’t tend to date as widely as humans do once they hit the “mother” stage and maidens tend to avoid bonding too closely to a turian. Turians rarely bonded with batarians or other non-council species, but it did sometimes happen and trip them up. Turians who bond with salarians often don’t have a problem because the salarians are like “Yeah, cool, lifelong friend!” and the turian either is totally unfazed by not having a sex life or just has casual sex, and the salarian is more like a queerplatonic partner. Quarians tend to be discriminated against by turians enough that bonding with one is rare.

However, when turians started having relationships with humans, being rejected by the one they were mated to became a. Huge. Problem. There’s a reason, aside from good ol’ racism, why turians tell each other “you shouldn’t date humans!” Out of all species turians bond with, human monogamist relationships tend to be the most temporary, and it hurt a lot of turians like a bitch.

Despite turians bonding to a mate only once in their life, they view sex as very separate from love and have no problems with casual sex. Some turians choose to only have sex with their partner once they’re “mated”, but it’s just as common to have casual sex outside of the relationship when they’re separated. Much like how humans have different sexualities, turians have different levels of sexual attraction to people who aren’t their mate -- some turians feel sexual attraction and drive exclusively with their mate, some turians only feel sexual attraction to others when their mate isn’t around, some turians continue to feel sexual attraction whether they’re with their mate or not. Different turian cultures have different attitudes to these sexualities.

Turians who bond to someone who dies or doesn’t return their feelings aren’t doomed to live life alone and lonely. While it hurts like hell, many turians move on and end up in a queerplatonic relationship with another turian in the same situation. Some turians also end up in a relationship with a turian who’s bonded to them in a one-way bond. 

This partner is often completely aware that their romantic love is unrequited and accept this, because many semi-bonded/widow turians will treat their new partner with the same level of commitment as they would a “real” mate. But much like human relationships with each other, this is a conscious choice -- and a turian who isn’t bonded back with their partner may still end up rejecting them. 

This, however, is viewed with the same taboo that human divorce was. It’s also very controversial in some turian cultures -- some turians believe such unions can never last because it’s not a “real” relationship if only one party is bonded to the other, some turians think it’s totally understandable that the unbonded turian may leave the bonded one. On the other side, some turians think that the unbonded turian must take it as a very serious level of commitment and if they leave it’s a poor reflection on the turian themselves, or even on the turian that bonded to them. Different cultures have different attitudes as being more prominent, whereas some cultures stigmatise the one-way-bonded-partnership entirely unless they publicly claim to be friends.

Some apparent one-way-bonds, however, are totally platonic on both sides as some turians are completely aromantic and have never romantically bonded to someone.

Having said that -- some aromantic turians still bond to another individual in a way that’s very similar to a romantic relationship, but without romantic feelings. The turian feels the same deep sense of attachment and commitment and love, but without the romantic feelings. Some turians are not only aromantic and/or asexual, but also a-bond -- they don’t bond to one individual at all, and prefer to go through life with a group of friends or on their own or some combination. Much like queer sexualities were in human history, turians who were either aro or non-bonding turians were stigmatised hundreds of years ago, however in modern society it’s now commonly accepted.

Turians bunk in hammocks in the military, and use circular nest-shaped beds full of pillows outside of it. Because of their shape, sleeping on human/asari beds are deeply uncomfortable for them. Their cowl gives them back/neck pain if they sleep on their back in such a bed, and their wide hips and shoulders give them neck and lower back pain if they sleep on their side. Sleeping on their stomach is also uncomfortable. In hammocks, turians contort into a certain position to be able to sleep and are able to use the slope of the hammock to rest their heads on their cowl, but it’s not as feasible on a horizontal surface.

A romanced Garrus adapts to sleeping in Shepard’s bed by using a lot of pillows. When he’s in the battery, he sleeps in a hammock.

Turians are somewhere between warm blooded and cold blooded -- their bodies generate heat, but they also get a lot of their heat from Palaven’s hot environment. If they had hotter body temperatures, they wouldn’t be able to cool down enough to survive Palaven’s environment.

Because of this, turians are extremely sensitive to cold.

Turians love snuggling up to humans because humans are like body-sized hot water bottles. Even after the turian’s temperature stabilises, the human is neither too hot nor too cold for the turian.

Lastly -- turians tend to have a pecking order even within families and between them, and use eye contact accordingly. Pecking orders are relative; a family might be considered “above” another, but on an individual level the firstborn kid of the “dominant” family may be considered dominant above a kid in the other family when it’s just the two of them. The “dominant” turian will make eye contact, but the subordinate turian won’t. Turians get very uncomfortable without the framework of a clear pecking order, because they’re used to either being totally in charge or having their hands held. A turian subordinate being treated like a human one -- that is, following orders but expected to be able to take initiative -- would stress a turian out and is signs of an incompetent superior.

Some turians, however, can’t handle the clear-cut rigid binary of turian relationships -- Garrus is one of them, and that makes it difficult for him to get along with other turians. These turians are almost always good leaders, but because they’re not capable of being happy following someone else’s leadership they question, they really struggle to be able to stay inside that framework long enough to get promoted to a position of leadership. Turians like this often handle alien environments better, though not necessarily -- human superiors don’t enjoy being questioned any more than turians do.

Good turian superiors tend to recognise the occasional odd duckling like Garrus, and see their potential. They’ll try to mentor the restless rebel long enough for them to make it into a higher position. This rarely works; most turians that give orders still have to report to someone else at the end of the day. At the end of the day, turians like Garrus have to find their own way, and once they do, they become highly respected by the hierarchy, and by the rebellious youths who are in the same circumstances they once were.

[scarletjedi]

Do all the fanfic asks you haven't yet! (And for ones that require a specific fic, go with your original stor ♡)

Cut for length

things that inspire you: Good writing in other people

things that motivate you: panic, fear, love

name three favorite writers: Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman, Gail Simone

name three authors that were influential to your work and tell why:  J K Rawling was a real inspiration as this book, loooooong ago, began life as a HP fanfic. Samuel Delaney was a major influence mostly because he was my graduate advisor and gave me some of the realist writing advice that I'm only now coming to understand. PG Wodehouse taught me how prose could be like poetry--and be cutting and funny at the same time. (Pratchett did the same thing, but I read Jeeves first)li>

since how long do you write? I’ve been writing since I was very wee, with a dedication to writing for publication since I was 16, and a dedication to improving my craft since I was 18 or so. 

how did writing change you? It gave me a greater appreciation of script, and a greater appreciation of the way language works. Anything other than that, I’m not sure because it’s been me for so long. *shrug*

I’ve already answered this :P

what time are you most productive? Morning, which means vacations are not productive because I sleep in. 

do you set yourself deadlines? Nope. When I do, I don’t meet them and it spirals. 

how do you do your researches? google, usually. For something more complicated, I have access to several different academic libraries :D

do you listen to music when writing? I do and I don’t. I do when I need to focus, and I don’t when I can’t focus. I try, and if it doesn’t work I shut it off. 

favorite place to write: My office

hardest character to write: My protagonist, Chris. He’s the main focus, so he has to be perfectly executed, and there’s a lot of pressure. 

easiest character to write: Jamie, his romantic interest. He sprang fully formed into my brain, and he’s a delight. 

hardest verse to write: 3rd? 

easiest verse to write: 1st!

favorite AU to write: TIME TRAVEL AU

favorite pairing to write: Jamie/Chris (my main pairing)

favorite fandom to write: right now, I’m diggin Star Wars - it’s been a love for so long. But I miss LOTR, and I’m trying hard to get the next chapter of WAMW out. 

favorite character to write: Katie, the protag’s little sister. (she’s 16)

least favorite character to write:  Pat, the dad. 

favorite story you’ve ever written: fanfic - Comes Around Again, though Old Man Luke is creepin’ in and I have a fondness for Pineapple. Original fic, I’ve got a porn ficlet called “Thanksgiving” that may see light sometime soon. 

least favorite story you’ve ever written: It’s not that it’s my least favorite, but I posted “Love Letters” before I was completely happy with it, and it twitches sometimes. 

favorite scene you’ve ever written: In fic: Bilbo recounting the Winter in CAA. In my book: interviewing The Beast. :D

favorite line you’ve ever written: “Everyone in the room wants to fuck me,” Jamie said airily, his smile sharp. “Lesser mortals use Tinder, now.”

story you’re most proud of: Comes Around Again, the BEAST

best review you ever got: I was told my fic, “Drowned in Moonlight” said *exactly* what someone wanted to say, they just couldn’t find the words. 

worst review you ever got: i was told CAA moving towards the movie ‘verse was lazy writing and they “thought better of me” 

favorite story/poem of another author: Sansukh - god, that last chapter killed me. 

hardest part of writing - getting it out initally. 

easiest part of writing - Revision

alternate title for (insert story title) - My book has had several titles, all terrible. It’s currently “The Beast” but it has been both “Weather Magic” and “Breaking” 

alternate ending for (insert story title) the original ending of the book involves a cross-country escape and a full-scale battle. it’s scaled back now, and better for it. 

alternate pairing for (insert story title) - there has never been another pairing for my original fic. Pineapple could also be Obi-Wan/Rex or Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon/Rex

single story or multi-part story? MULTI

one-shot or multi-chaptered story? MULTI

canon or AU? depends on the AU. GIVE ME TIME TRAVEL

do you reread your own stories? On occasion. sometimes, the story I really want, is the story I wrote. 

do you want to be published some day? VERY BADLY. 

which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series. I’d love to see my book on TV. My wife and I talk about fancasts all the time. I think Netflix could do it - they’d make it gay enough without the gratuitous violence (HBO). That being said, the fact that CAA wont be filmed PAINS me. 

one song that captures (insert story title): Uuuhhhh….

do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind? I write from an idea, whatever it is, then I plan a bit, then I write between main points. 

would you ever write a sequel for (insert fic title here) My original work is the first in a series. :D

do you write linear or do you write future scenes if you feel like it? I write out of order. Usually, I have an idea, then a moment later in the work (like the climax) that I write out, then i fill in the blanks. 

share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet: BOY DISCOVERS MAGIC IS REAL, the Gods are real, and the world is about to end. Also, he’s bisexual. 

share a scene of a story that you haven’t published yet: Meet my main boys:

Chris sighed, knocking his knuckles against the car window. “You gonna tell me where we’re going, yet?” he asked. Jamie tapped his lips with his finger, humming, and Chris rolled his eyes. “I will hit you,” he said, mild.  

“Sure, why not.” Jamie said at last, and ran his hands over his steering wheel in a quick, practice move. “We’re looking for Burnt Mill Road.”

“Oh, that’s not ominous,” Chris muttered. He squinted to try and make out the writing on the street signs as they passed, but was hard to see; Mid-August rain had soaked the roads, and now it rose as a lingering, ground-hugging fog. That, combined with what felt like two-hundred percent humidity, meant that the letters of the street signs blurred in the headlights and didn’t come into focus until just as they were passing by.

Jamie grinned, his dimples casting shadows in the scruff on his cheeks. It was too short for a beard, but Jamie made sure to keep the edges trimmed like the vain peacock he was. Fuck him, if it didn’t look good on him. Adult. “Are you scared?” Not that he acted like one.

“No,” Chris said, strangled, and he winced. He wasn’t, really, but there would be no way of convincing Jamie that when his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “How many time have we done this shit? Have I ever been scared.”

Jamie barked out a laugh. “Every. Time.”

Chris sighed. Every. Single. Time. “I’m not scared, I’m cautious.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie said dryly, chancing a glance over at Chris. “Did caution check the flashlights three times? Did caution make me wait half ’n hour while his phone charged?” HIs voice dropped, like he was in on a secret, and he glanced down at Chris’s lap. “Is caution wearing your lucky underwear?”

Chris’s mouth twisted, and he sucked on a tooth. “It’s practical,” Chris ground out.

“You fucking are,” Jamie said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you just admitted it. What’s practical about lucky underwear?”

“Not that!” Chris said, rolling his eyes. He was, in fact, wearing his lucky underwear. They were comfortable, okay? But there was no need for Jamie to know that. “I meant the phone.”  

“Yeah,” Jamie snorted. “If we get a flat tire, not for ghosts.”

Chris looked out the window, conceding the point. He folded his arms. “How do you even know what underwear I’m wearing?” he grumbled.

Jamie sighed, overly put-upon. “Hello?” he said, sing-song, and rolled his hand to gesture at himself. “Gay. What do you think gay-dar is?”

“Knowing who in the room would fuck you?” Chris offered, shooting Jamie a lopsided grin.

“Everyone in the room wants to fuck me,” Jamie said airily, his smile sharp. “Lesser mortals use Tinder, now.” Chris laughed, finally, and Jamie’s grin brightened.  

They drove on, and Jamie ended up behind a boxy old Chrysler, its back end covered in bumper stickers that had been bleached white in the sun. One of them was one of those ribbon magnets, but Chris couldn’t tell which cause it supported. Maybe it supported all of them, or none of them. Schrodinger’s ribbon. A street sign caught his eye, and he frowned.

“How many “Pine” streets are even in Jersey?”

“All of ‘em,” Jamie answered without pause.

Chris crocked his head, still looking out the window. They passed a sign that said Welcome to Atco. What was in Atco? He pulled out his phone, and typed “haunted Atco” in the search bar. Loading. Loading. Loading. Fucking 3G. “All of the streets are called ‘Pine’? or all the streets called ‘Pine?’ are in Jersey?”

Jamie hummed. “I stand by my earlier statement.”

“I request clarification,” Chris said, closing the app and darkening his phone.

“Request denied.”

“Ass,” Chris said, with a crooked smile.

“Ginger.”

how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?: 7!

three spoilers for (insert story title): The boy gets the boy, the Beast Speaks, HE CAN FLY

open question to the writer: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR OVER AN HOUR!!

[lovemesomesurveys]

[-morelikeher]

Do you like to text? I definitely prefer it and do it more than calling, but I don’t do much texting either.

How about talk on the phone? No.

How often do you go to parties? I don’t go to parties.

Ever thrown a party? Yeah. Nothin’ crazy.

Do you drink? Smoke? Nope.

Or are you one of them goody goody’s? I don’t think you’re bad if you drink or smoke weed (unless it’s a problem), it’s just not my thing.

Are you completely over your ex? Why or why not? Yeah, that ship sailed a loooooong time ago.

Why did you guys break up anyways? He was done.

Do you think you should change for the one you love? I think I should change for my own benefit, and if it happens to help the person I love, then so be it. <<< Agreed. 

Or do you believe that if they truly loved you they wouldn’t want you to change? Unless like I said it would benefit me in some way and they were asking out of genuine concern.

Do you like the song “Chasing Cars?” Yeah. 

Are you a virgin? I am.

Do you know how to play poker? Nope.

Do you listen to Sean Kingston? I liked a couple of his songs.

How often do you say the word ‘whatever?’ *shrug*

Have you ever been in love? Yes.

Do you own any purple cups? Nope.

How many times have you told someone you loved them and not meant it? My first boyfriend when I was 16 started telling me he loved me like a couple weeks in and I said it back because I felt I had to even though I didn’t feel that way. It didn’t go on long before I knew I had to end things and not lead him on, but still I felt bad and shouldn’t have said it at all. I haven’t since then, though. Those words aren’t something I throw around lightly so if I say it; I mean it.

Have you ever took someone back after they cheated? If so, what was the outcome? I’ve never been cheated on.

Is your cell phone a blue razr? A razr omg. I had a pink one.

Are you bi? No.

Do you owe money to anyone? I mean, until I pay off my credit card each month, yes. <<< Ha, true.

Are you in debt? Yes. :/

How many friends have you lost? A few.

Have you ever been on television? I have. I was on the local news a few times regarding my accident.

How many songs are on your iPod? I have no idea. I haven’t used my iPod since like 2012. I’ve had to say this a lot in surveys lately, I swear something about my iPod comes up in every one.

Do you have poker chips on your dresser? No.

Do you live in filth or does everything have to be clean? There’s a little straightening up needed, but I certainly don’t live in filth.

Do you like to sing? I do. Too bad I can’t sing well.

Do you like loud music? I don’t need it very loud, just a reasonable level is fine.

What color are your socks? They’re a cream and pink colored with Piglet on them.

Do you start trends, follow them, or ignore them? Ignore them these days that’s for sure. I’m so out of the loop. I never was a trendsetter and I wasn’t a follower either per se, like if I liked it then I might partake, but I didn’t do so just because something was trendy. I just at least was pretty in the loop and knew what was going on even if I didn’t do the trend myself. 

Do you get flattered when people copy one of your ideas? Or does it annoy you? People don’t copy my ideas. I don’t have any good, creative ideas.

How many pairs of jeans do you own? Like 4 or 5. I got rid of some because I don’t even wear jeans (it’s been a few years since the last time), but I wanted to have a few pairs still cause ya never know.

How far away is the nearest Wal Mart? About a 10 minute drive.

Ever lived in a mansion? Haaaa, no.

Did your parents ever tell you that you were going to be President? They didn’t say that specifically, but yeah they were always encouraging and supportive and believed I could do what I set my mind to.

What kind of cell phone do you have? An iPhone 12 Pro Max.

Do you like it? Yes.

Does it take pictures? Yes.

Is there any dirty dishes in your room? Nope.

How loud does your TV go? I haven’t tested it out.

Candles, what’s your opinion on them? I’m not a candle person.

Don’t you hate when someone interrupts you? It is rude.

Do you brighten and contrast any of your pictures? Very rarely have I had to do that.

Does anyone call you baby? No.

Are you with that person? --

D0 y0U hA+3 pPl +H4+ tYp3 l!k3 d!$? Whaaattt abouttt likkeee thhiiisss? Why does everyone keep doing this? <<< I was thinking the same thing. These surveys all feel the same, but they’re supposedly different creators. 

Do you take things too seriously? I’ve become a lot more serious these days, but at the same time there’s a lot of real shit that I’m dealing with that needs to be taken seriously.

How long do you want to live? I don’t know.

Have you ever called someone a sorry piece of crap? Not to their face.

Ever had your heart broken? Yes, several times including non-romantic situations.

Relationship status? Very much single.

Have you ever wanted someone so bad it completely took over your life? No.

Do like falling asleep in someone’s arms? I don’t do that.

Do you still buy CDs? No. I haven’t bought a CD in several years.

Are you a music-fanatic like me? Not as much these days. It’s weird cause I used to be.

Have you ever tried to force yourself to love someone? No.

Ever forced yourself to not love someone? No. Also, good luck with that.

Have you ever fallen going UP the stairs? No, cause I don’t use the stairs.

Life, is it suckish or amazing? It’s pretty suckish for me to say the least.

Are you an emotional person? Yes.

Do you like the color black? I do.

Do you think Lady Gaga goes a little too far with her videos? She’s tamed it down quite a bit.

Ever crossed the finish line first in any sort of race? Yes.

Do you need anyone besides yourself? My family.

What’s the area code for your phone number? Uh, no I’m not sharing that.

Do you have someone in your life that you feel like you'lll never get over? No.

What do you really really want right now? To feel better.

Kellie Pickler or Taylor Swift? Neither.

What brand is your computer? Apple.

Are you on a desktop or a laptop? A laptop.

Do you have a best friend named April, like me? No, but I have a cousin named April.

Is there anyone that you can never get off your mind? No.

Ever cheated? I have not.

Is there kindness in your eyes? Probably not. I probably just look tired and miserable.

Do you have a Myspace? It might still exist out there; I have no idea. I haven’t logged on in well over a decade.

Are you married? No.

Is a cheater always a cheater? Not always.

Do you have pride? Dignity? Courage? :/

Are you insecure? Extremely.

Are you living the best days of your life? Uh, definitely not. 

What is the meaning of life to you? I don’t know.

Do you think crying is the best answer to hurting? It can help.

Do you cry a lot? Yes. Especially lately. I swear any little thing sets me off.

Do you say ain’t instead of isn’t? No.

Where are you currently living? In California.

How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop? The world may never know.