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christinesficrecs · 4 years

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A very long list of updated snowed in fic recs for @starsandmoony 💜

On my Way by Gia279 | 17.9K

Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.

He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.

A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.

I’ve got chills... They’re multiplying! by DropsOfAddiction | 12.3K | Explicit

Derek is literally wrapped around him, one heavy leg and one heavy arm pinning him tight to Derek‘s front.

Warm and steady breaths tickle the back of Stiles’ neck. He tries not to freak out and he wonders how he’s going to extract himself without waking Derek. He totally isn’t ready to face into this conversation.

Stiles stretches gently and Derek grumbles clutching him tighter in his sleep. Stiles tries not to yelp when Derek buries his face in the back of his neck.

Well fuck.

One Star Awake by zjofierose | 9.5K

When Stiles gets stranded in the snow one dark and snowy night, he's in real danger. Fortunately, he gets rescued by a man on a horse.

Emergency Contact by bewarethesmirk | 1.2K

“Derek here hasn’t left your side,” the nurse coos, and Derek glares at her back. “You’re so lucky to have such an adoring husband.”

snow day by kellifer_fic | 8.3K

“It’s not a big deal. It just happens when I’m… cold,” Stiles offers, scratching gingerly at his head with a claw and then grimacing at it like it’s betraying him.

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, who are you to judge, wolfman?”

Your love warms me up by Smowkie | 1.2K

“At least it’s slowing down,” Stiles said, his lips slightly blue tinted and his teeth clacking.

“Yeah,” Derek said. Stiles had his arm hooked with Derek’s, and he was stumbling a little as they walked. “Come on, keep walking, keep warm.”

“Yeah, keep walking,” Stiles agreed.

Derek didn’t like how weak he sounded.

In the Dark Midwinter, Light by rhysiana | 3.7K | Mature

Really, Derek and Stiles being sent to an empty druid's cabin to fetch a book for Deaton and then getting snowed in could have gone so, so much worse.

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) | 4.9K

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious.

And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

three words have never come easy by the_problem_with_stardust | 1.5K | Mature

If someone had told Derek five years ago that Stiles Stilinski would be the one living in a secluded cabin in the woods, Derek never would have believed them. Even now, he had a hard time reconciling his memories of Stiles as a high schooler with the young man who preferred the quiet found amongst the trees.

Whenever he’d inquired, Stiles had just smiled that enigmatic smile, so like Deaton or Morrell, and said something about being unable to think around the bustle of town.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” by jadore_hale | 2.3K

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed heavily, coming back down to earth, “But when you woke me up this morning and said that we needed to go out into the woods and find the evil Snow Witch that brought this shit here, I thought that was your emotionally stunted way of saying come build a snowman with me.”

In The Arms of A Werewolf by literaryoblivion | 9.2K

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Stiles is flabbergasted. How is this even possible? Werewolves he can take. Poisonous lizard creatures, sure. Once dead, now living creepy werewolf uncles, bit of a stretch but he can roll with it. Sacrificing ancient druids that masquerade as teachers, okay fine. But this?

An honest to god abominable snowman? In Beacon Hills, California no less?

Nope.

Winter Storm Stiles by 42hrb | 2K

Stiles isn’t looking forward to weathering his first snow storm on his own, then he meets a handsome stranger at the grocery store who might be able to help.

Find Me Sitting Fireside by kaistrex (weishen) | 13.2K

With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy’s identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek’s problems when he’s expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he’s secretly been in love with for the past four years.

Waiting for Winter by Twice_Shy (notboldly) | 3.2K

Everyone had a soulmark, a special shape on their body that formed during childhood and was meant to lead each person to their soulmate.

Unfortunately, Derek’s soulmark is shaped like a snowflake, and that fact has been actively ruining his life since he was six years old.

world tilts by wearing_tearing | 1.5K

The guy is gorgeous as hell, and Stiles kind of wishes he could stare at him forever.

He figures he deserves a treat after almost slipping to his death.

Wait, What? by wangler | 5.3K

When a significant portion of the Beacon Hills Preserve ends up coated in three entire inches of snow, the pack looks into it. If by looking into it one means packing a bunch of garbage bags and huge Tupperware lids into the back of Stiles’ Jeep to go look for a decent sledding hill. Things go sideways, because of course they do.

A Very Sterek Christmas by TobyRosetta | 13.5K

It’s actually snowing in Beacon Hills, and it’s got everyone out of whack. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Stiles decides to take some things up to the the old Hale Mansion for old Sourwolf himself. But when the storm kicks up and snows them both in, the night takes an interesting turn.

Blanketed by got_the_bite | 3.3K

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek demands again. His voice is higher than usual Stiles notes.

“You would be such a nice tenor if you joined a choir,” Stiles thinks aloud.

But In Case I Stand One Little Chance by mikkimouse | 8.6K

Stiles’s Jeep breaks down in the middle of the snowstorm. He’s rescued by his high school crush, and as the cherry on top, is trapped in a cabin with said crush until the roads clear.

Fuck his life.

Snow Flirting by thepsychicclam | 11,396

As Beacon Hills get pounded with foot after foot of snow, single dad Stiles can't quite keep up with his four year old, his job, and shoveling his driveway. Derek makes his teenage son shovel Stiles' walk, and that just leads to Derek helping Stiles out with a whole bunch of other tasks. That's okay with Derek, though, cause any chance to be with Stiles is okay with him.

Baby, It's Cold Outside by Jebiwonkenobi | 2,791

Beacon Hills has a snow storm. Totally-not-cuddling happens.

Come Fly With Me (Or Don't) by stilinskisparkles | 15,325

Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.

Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.

The Man in the Snow by mikkimouse | 15,894

Derek finds a young man injured in a ravine on the border of his ranch. That's strange enough, but the mystery only deepens when the young man wakes up without any memory of what he was doing out there.

Blizzard Boyfriend by literaryoblivion | 1,897

With a record-breaking snowstorm on the horizon, threatening a city shutdown for a few days, Stiles gets the bright idea to put an ad up on craigslist for someone to spend his snow days with that would be filled with cuddling, movies, alcohol, and potential makeouts or more.

It's a joke until someone responds.

and home before dark by verity | 3,175

The mystery of the absent Hale brother was hardly a mystery at all until he appeared at last, set on taking up residence out in the woods.

(In which Derek is a hedgewitch. With a cat.)

Let it snow! Let it snow! (but please let it stop eventually) by relenafanel | 19,123

Stiles grew up with his bedroom window overlooking Derek's bedroom, so when he returns home for the holidays he's surprised to find a stranger in his nerdy neighbour's bedroom.

Only, he's not much of a stranger.

It is Derek Hale, the guy who is going to be his new step brother, if the rumours are true.

Red Against the Snow by Ember | 34,219

Stiles is trapped for the holidays in the cabin of a strange man/hermit named Derek. A strangely friendly wolf befriends Stiles during his stay. It's up to the teenager to find out why Derek has secluded himself from society, what the feelings he's beginning to have means, and what the connection between the mysterious man and the mysterious black wolf is.

an exaltation of larks by llassah | 25,370

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

The flamingo in the yard by Vendelin | 6,107

It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

(Fake) Winter Weather Brings Us Together by tylerfucklin (zimothy) | 10,535

So naked cuddling with Derek while suffering from hypothermia wasn't really on Stiles' to-do list for the week, but neither was that kiss--so who was Stiles to complain?

It's a Wild Pitch (But He's a Contact Hitter) by jettiebettie | 11,828

They're combating supernatural forces with blunt instruments now. Seems legit. As long as Stiles doesn't end up getting frostbite, he's willing to roll with it. Not that his friends have to worry about that. Fucking werewolves.

Abominable by Revenant | 20,277

Where Derek buys a secluded cabin halfway up a mountain, meets a yeti and falls in love with Stiles, but not necessarily in that order.

stilinski v. a. snowman | tumblr ficlet

This fic was inspired by this prompt: ‘we’re stuck in a log cabin overnight during a snowstorm bc of some stupid school team building exercise and it’s freEzing and I can’t sleep and you can hear me shivering in the next bed so you pick me up and dump in your bed and good grief you are hot in every sense of the word’ au

#sterek fics #ficrecs #snowed in #winter #winter fics #snowstorms #this is so long #🤦🏻‍♀️#starsandmoony

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Wipeout

Day 23, Post #1 by @adenei

Title: Wipeout

Author: adenei

Pairing: Dean & Seamus BrOTP

Prompt: Brother from another Mother

Rating: T

TW: implied injuries from silly game show stunts, language

************

“You sure about this, mate?” Seamus is looking at the gigantic, slick obstacle course laid out in front of them.

Cushy gears are spinning every which way in the distance, while platforms are sprayed with foam and soap, as if the challenge of getting to the other side isn’t already made harder by the random blocks that push out when you least expect it. There’s no way they will ever make it across without falling into the water… or is that the secret point to the competition?

Seamus thinks about how he can finagle getting through the course by using discrete traces of magic, but he knows it’s implausible without carrying his wand in his hand.

Dean laughs, and Seamus can’t tell if there’s a nervous tint in it or not. “Yeah, mate. It can’t be that bad, right?”

Just as he says it, though, their attention is pulled back to the course, where a competitor takes a leap to the next platform, and only half her body makes it. Her head hits the platform as her torso crashes into the side, and the embedded springs send her body flying backwards as she tumbles to the water like a lifeless puppet.

“Bloody buggering hell, is she even alive?” Seamus mutters to Dean with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I reckon she’s fine. People wouldn’t sign up for this if they were risking death. The prize isn’t that significant. Plus, it makes for a good laugh on the telly.”

“Excuse me, we just need you to sign these waivers before you take your turn on the course,” an attendant approaches them with a clipboard and pen. He points to the ‘x’ where they need to sign as Seamus glares at him, becoming more and more skeptical about the course they are about to encounter.

“Waivers?”

“Just protocol,” Dean scribbles his name and holds out the pen for Seamus. “It’s not like anyone’s actually died from this.”

It’s not that Seamus is cautious when it comes to dangerous activities. Hell, he has a knack for pyrotechnics and blowing things up. But he was drunk when Dean suggested they apply for the popular game show. He’s pretty sure they only got the call because they’d filled out the applications in their drunken state, which probably made them better candidates for TV personalities.

Seamus repeats the mantra of ‘you only live once’ as he grabs the pen from Dean and signs under his name.

Let’s do this.

The pair pay close attention as other teams work their way through the first course. No one has made it to the end without falling in the water at least once, and as he’s hyping himself up, Seamus is confident he can do this without getting wet.

“Okay, we’ve got this. I think it’s best if we just keep moving, that way, those stupid pieces can’t get us since it looks like there’s no rhyme or reason to when they punch out.”

“Those giant balls are going to be the toughest, I think,” Dean observes as Seamus sniggers.

“Finnigan and Thomas, you’re up!” a man holding up a megaphone calls.

They’ve already given their interviews, so now it’s time to ascend to the top of the platform, where Dean will go first and Seamus will follow.

“Remember, we just have to make the top twelve to move on,” Dean reminds him.

“Easier than a niffler stealing gold.”

Dean takes the starting platform first, as Seamus waits on the step for further direction. When the horn sounds, Dean disappears from sight as he slides down the human pinball course. Seamus watches on the big screen that’s filming Dean’s run, and it looks smooth until his friend’s side bashes into one of the poles. He recovers quickly and finishes his descent, scrambling to his feet to run up to the knockout platform.

A wall of red boxing gloves punch out at random times, and Dean starts out strong, dodging the gloves as if he were dodging bludgers during a quidditch match. One catches his foot as he leaps for the platform, and Seamus sucks in a sharp inhale, thinking Dean’s about to fall into the water. Dean manages to grasp onto the platform, saving himself from an imminent fall and consequential deduction.

Next up are the big red bouncy balls, and Seamus bites his knuckles in anticipation. If either of them is going to fuck up, it’s right here. Dean wastes no time getting a running start before he takes a gigantic leap. His right foot hits the center of the first ball, and he springs off it to the second. The run is flawless as his left foot vaults him off the second, but when his right foot lands on the third ball, he’s off-center, causing his balance to shift, and he slips.

Seamus grinds his teeth as he watches Dean’s body hit the ball and propels forward. Somehow, Dean manages to land on the fourth ball, and he’s grasping at the smooth surface.

“Use your feet, use your feet!” Seamus shouts to anyone who’s listening.

If Dean had only kicked his legs back, he could have caught himself and saved the run, but instead, his body bounces off the fourth ball, and Seamus watches as he tumbles to the water, causing a giant splash as he lands in starfish formation on his back.

That’s gonna hurt tomorrow.

They take the one-minute deduction that’s applied to any competitor who falls in the water, and Seamus gets ready for his run. As soon as the horn sounds, he’s unaware of what’s happening. One second he’s standing, and the next, he’s luging down a slick mat, giant red pillars blocking his path no matter how he twists his body. His only thought is to keep his legs together, so he doesn’t get nutted by any of the obstacles. He has no sense of time as he scrambles to his feet and ascends to the punching platform, tearing across the thin beam as fast as his feet will let him.

Three-quarters of the way through, he manages to pump the brakes before a high glove takes out his head, but that doesn’t stop another from hitting him square in the chest with two steps to the platform. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Seamus does the only thing he can think of, his flailing arms reach out and somehow grab onto another protruding glove as the force of his body swings around. His feet hit the platform, and he lets go, collapsing onto the mat.

Cheers are coming from the stands at his miraculous save, which spur him on. Even though he feels like he’s been run over by the Hogwarts Express, he stands and shakes his arms out, staring down the red balls that took Dean out minutes ago. He follows in his best friend’s footsteps, getting a running start. The obstacle is completed in a flash; the only thing Seamus remembers is the feeling of flying without a broom and hitting the massive balls less than a second apart. He can’t believe he made it!

Now, it’s just the rope swing. Seamus is sure he can hear Dean screaming his head off as he grabs the rope and gains momentum with another running start. His hands slide down and burn from the rope as he’s flying in the air, but Seamus holds on for dear life, only letting go once both feet have touched down. He slams his hand down on the red buzzer before throwing his arms up, whooping in victory.

Seamus bends over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath before he’s ushered down the steps and onto the lawn where a correspondent is waiting. He barely makes it off the stairs when Dean barrels into him, tackling him to the ground in a bear hug.

“Wow, what a bromance we have here, folks!” Seamus can hear the correspondent say to the crowd, which cheers again.

The excitement is short-lived, though, because less than an hour later, they find themselves having to choose who will play on the Sweeper Crusher.

“You crushed the first round. You should do it,” Dean insists.

“No, mate, I think it should be you. Your balance is better than mine. Plus, you're way better at spotting things out of the corner of your eye.”

“But—”

“You made the team in sixth year, not me. It’s gotta be you, mate.”

It’s true. Seamus knows his balance is shit, and Dean poses the better shot of the two, and ultimately he agrees. Before he ascends the platform, they hug, and Seamus pats him on the back.

“You’ve got this mate, go kick some arse!”

As Dean takes his position on the small circular platform, Seamus watches the event unfurl. Dean is methodical in his wait to jump onto the rotating beam, and he has to be because his position just so happens to be where the bars overlap with the beam, making it ten times as hard to be successful. Annoyance bubbles up in Seamus at the unfairness of his partner’s position, but there’s nothing they can do.

In the end, Dean takes a leap, but it’s not enough to save him as the crusher bar sweeps him right off the beam and into the water. Seamus is upset, of course, but they drunkenly signed up for the game show for fun, and deep down, he never expected to win. He wouldn’t switch the experience for anything else in the world and would absolutely do it again if given the chance.

Dean climbs out of the water, head hanging low as he approaches.

“I’m sorry, mate.”

“Don’t be! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t even be here! And it was bloody brilliant!” Dean grins as Seamus holds out his hand. They clap hands and pull the other in for a bro hug and pat on the back.

As they are ushered toward the competitor’s tent, Seamus asks the all-important question. “I could get used to being on the muggle telly. So, what game show should we sign up for next?”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #submission #dean & seamus #deamus brotp #tw: minor injuries #tw: bad language

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nvgotd · 3 years

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Our favourite non-violent games of E3 Week 2021

Back in 2019, we ran a post listing every non-violent game shown during E3. Given this year’s array of E3 and E3-adjacent events produced 115 upcoming non-violent games (as you may have read somewhere), that just wasn’t practical. Instead, Rebekah and I have each picked out five our our faves. Enjoy!

- James

REBEKAH’S TOP 5

Pekoe

There is perhaps nothing cozier than tea and cats. Pekoe puts the player in the shoes of the newest resident and teahouse owner in a town of sentient cats. The cats want your tea, and you can learn to make it for them, learning about different tea varieties and tea making styles as you go while building relationships with the town’s inhabitants. You can upgrade and customize your teahouse, visit other teahouses for inspiration, and learn about different rituals, customs, and preparation styles for tea. Pekoe is developed by (appropriately) Kitten Cup Studio, and is planned for release in 2022.

Bear and Breakfast

Build and run a bed and breakfast in a tranquil wood...but also, you’re a bear! Startout with a rundown old inn, and build it up into splendor again while attracting and awing tourists who come to stay. Bear and Breakfast is a laidback management sim about growing a cozy woodland business, but with the added bonus of a forest mystery that unravels as your bustling breakfast nook grows. Developed by Gummy Cat, and planned for release later this year.

Behind the Frame: The Finest Scenery

Behind the Frame follows an artist living alone, preparing a masterpiece for a gallery submission. It’s a puzzle game focused on both her day to day activities, her interactions with a fellow painter and neighbor (and his cat!), and painting itself. You’ll use a painting and sketch mechanic to solve puzzles that explore memory and emotion, all of which takes place in a hand-animated world that looks like it was pulled straight out of a Ghibli movie. Developed by Akupara Games.

Bird Problems

There are a lot of unique ideas for non-violent games and mechanics out there, but one I had personally never seen before was modeling a game after a sitcom. Bird Problems follows a young bird named Tweeter Gregory who’s clumsy and awkward, but just wants to make friends and enjoy a nice boba tea. We haven’t seen much of this game from Lithic Entertainment just yet, but its trailer at the Wholesome Direct stood out due to its resemblance to the goofy sitcoms of the 90s. But with birds!

A Little to the Left

Many of the non-violent games shown over the recent E3 weeks were narrative-focused, but sometimes all you want is a pleasant little puzzle game. A Little to the Left is less complicated, and in that way seems straightforward and soothing: it’s about reorganizing, tidying up, and setting things right. You’ll spend it arranging objects into patterns that look pleasant, with occasional “help” from a mischievous interrupting cat. Developed by Max Inferno, it’s planned for launch this October.

JAMES’ TOP 5

Forza Horizon 5

If you know what Forza Horizon is, you’re likely already looking forward to this one and/or have pre-ordered it/subscribed to Xbox Game Pass. For those who don’t, here’s a quick crash course (pun absolutely not intended): Developed by UK studio Playground Games, Horizon is the open-world spin-off series from Microsoft’s acclaimed Forza Motorsport franchise. While Motorsport focuses on simulation racing, Horizon offers a slightly more arcade-like experience, letting players loose behind the wheels of some of the world’s most powerful cars. You explore the landscape (Mexico, this time) to find more race locations or other ways to raise your Influence. Doing so unlocks the Top Gear-esque showstopper challenge. New to the mix are Expeditions, which take you on guided tours of the most beautiful places of the map, and Horizon Arcade, which lets you create your own tracks, stunts and races. Forza Horizon 5 is due for release on November 9th.

Sable

This indie sci-fi exploration game has been in the works for several years, but it’s finally approaching release. Set on a desert planet, you play a young woman from a nomadic tribe sent on a ritualistic quest to explore the world - on a hoverbike. Akin to Luke Skywalker’s landspeeder, or more accurately the giant USB dongle Rey drove in The Force Awakens, your task is to discover more about the world as you learn more about yourself. Investigating the wreckage of old ships will help you find the components you need to upgrade your bike, and as you meet other tribes, you can complete side quests to help them and forge new friendships. Developed by Shedworks, Sable will be available from September 23rd.

Phantom Abyss

This game has a bit of an Indiana Jones meets Mirror's Edge kind of vibe. Players race through ancient temples, leaping chasms and dodging booby traps, in the hopes of being the first to reach the relic at the centre. You don't technically compete with other players in real time; instead, you race their ghosts, following their leads and learning from their mistakes. Each temple is randomly generated, but as soon as someone claims the relic, they are declared champion of that particular temple and the course is removed forever, cementing their victory. And yes, you have an Indy-style whip to swing across gaps. It’s developed by Team WIBY and launched in Early Access last week.

Lake

Most video game stories present the player with world-ending stakes, sending them on an urgent quest where the clock is always ticking. Lake is a much more personal and relaxed affair. Set in 1986, you take on the role of Meredith Weiss, a forty-something career woman taking a break ahead of her software company’s big launch. She heads back to the fictional lakeside town of Providence Oaks, Oregon, her childhood home, to rediscover old friends and see what (if anything) has changed. She also takes on her father’s role as a mail carrier, delivering letters and parcels each day while he is on holiday. During the two weeks, she can forge friendships, find love, or even choose to give up her career and make a new home for herself - the choice is up to you. Lake is developed by Gamious and is due for release by the end of the year.

Schim

This 3D puzzle platformer has a simple but wonderfully creative premise: jumping between shadows. You control a schim: the soul of a living creature or object. This particular schim has become separated from the human being it was attached to, and it’s up to you to reunite them. You can hop between shadows as if they were pools of water, and if a shadow is moving (for example, the shadow of someone walking about or a bird flying) that pool will move and take you with it. Working out the best route between shadows is the only way to navigate each level, set across various urban and rural spaces. Timing is the key, because as soon as you leap out of a shadow and land in the light, it’s game over. As you can see, all of this is presented in a beautifully distinct style. Schim is being developed by Ewould van der Werf, although a release window has yet to be decided.

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enviedear · 4 years

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that damn american ᵗʷᵒ

quadpot and miniskirts

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n l/n cheers her brother on for the first quadpot game, and draco is unimpressed by blaise’s love of your miniskirt.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 1.5k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

chapter twooooo hehe i’m going to rec two songs from the playlist for this chapter, gold by brockhampton and the chain by fleetwood mac (side note - that would be a great mashup) now, enjoy the second chapter.

it’s been a week since your first day and today is the first quadpot match. you’re eating breakfast with your friends, and mulling over how in the world you’re going to make a halftime routine work with only six girls, when a deep voice calls for you.

you look up to find blaise zabini, “yeah?” you ask.

“i was wondering what a cheer team does. draco’s saying you just yell on the field.” he questions, face utterly calm.

“dude please don’t get her started this early in the morning.” quinn groans, putting a hand to his face.

you make a face at your brother, “actually we’re meant to entertain the crowd. we dance and we stunt. you’ll understand later. i can promise you i do more than yell.”

blaise shrugs and returns his gaze back to draco, who’s glaring at you.

you raise your eyebrows at him, “staring is rude you know.”

the boy doesn’t respond and instead takes a sip of his pumpkin juice.

“hey y/n, i think ally is calling for you, good luck with the practice.” sophie tells you.

you smile at her and make you way to your co-captain. when you reach her, she’s fumbling trying to carry her poms, speaker, and water bottle.

“hey girl, any ideas on how we’re supposed to make this work?” she asks, walking out of the dining hall, you not far behind.

“we haven’t had time to make a new routine so let’s just go with the last year’s homecoming dance and the stunts from our practice before summer.” you say as you both enter the quidditch field.

on the field are the remaining four girls, stretching and laughing.

“alright ladies, i hope you remember the dance from homecoming. now up, we’ve got a game to cheer.” you smile.

lucky for you, your team - well the fraction of it you have - is easy to work with and before practice is over the routine is perfect.

“y/n, do you know where the uniforms are?” ally asks, looking through the trunk full of quadpot and cheer gear.

“i think they’re under the brooms.” you say, leaning down to look yourself.

ally grabs the brooms, and sets them down, going back in for the uniforms. she comes back up with a smile on her face and begins handing them out to the girls.

“thanks,” you say to her as she hands you yours. you look at the rest of the team, “the boy’s are about to be out here to practice so go to your dorms, change, eat lunch, and be back here at exactly 4:00.” you tell them.

they nod at you and sprint for the castle.

you and ally continue clearing the field and after five minutes the boys’ are behind you.

“hey y/n.” your brother greets, grabbing his broom from the ground.

“hey quinn, good luck tonight.” you smile.

“i appreciate it, but we’re playing horned serpent. and even though we’re down to half a team, they’re going to get pummeled.” he laughs, shoving sebastian.

you roll your eyes at the two of them and bid them farewell before making your way to the slytherin common room.

you head straight for your dorm and are met with april and sophie laughing profusely.

“what the hell did i miss?” you ask, looking at the two of them.

“bitch, april made that video from last night one of those gta ‘wasted’ memes and i sent it around the school. i just got a snap of draco reacting to it and, holy shit, it’s too good.” sophie laughs.

you snatch the phone from her and watch the video. draco is sat outside on a bench talking with zabini when a pukwudgie, davis, comes up to him, holding out his phone and telling the blond to play the video. after a short lived moment of draco and blaise asking what exactly the phone is, draco plays the video. you see his face grow bright red and begin insulting the video, yelling ‘just wait until my father hears about this’.

“that’s beautiful.” you chuckle, giving sophie the phone back.

“i think draco’s my favorite person i’ve met so far.” april giggles. “he’s such a spoiled brat. it’s amazed me.”

the three of you continue talking as you slip into your uniform. the black and orange colored top and skirt are tight on your body. the top is decorated with the wampus emblem and the skirt is simple with a small slit on the left side.

“i think those skirts get shorter every year.” april winks, smacking your ass.

“oh shut up, let’s grab lunch before the game, i’m hungry.” you smile, grabbing your poms.

you and your friends enter the dining hall, scoring seats near the head of the table.

you grab some roast chicken and a hefty helping of potatoes and begin scarfing down your food.

you and your friends don’t talk much, finding the food much more important.

“you eat like a starved house elf.” draco says, sitting beside you.

“keep up the insults and i won’t throw you a wampus tee-shirt during the game. you’d feel pretty left out without one.” you smirk, taking a bite of your chicken.

“well, y/n, i’d love to get a shirt,” blaise grins. “so long as you keep that uniform on for the rest of the night. i’m fond of the skirt.”

you let out a shocked laugh, “jeez buddy, i didn’t know it took one tiny skirt to win you over. wait till you see the rest of the team, you might have a heart attack.”

blaise laughs and draco seems wildly uncomfortable between the two of you. you’re enjoying the little game blaise is playing with draco.

“so what’s the routine for tonight’s game?” sophie asks.

“we’re dancing to gold, the song we used at homecoming, and doing the pyramid from last year’s spring pep rally.” you say.

“i love that song. and the dance is hot, i’m so glad i get to take you back to my room once it over.” april teases.

you wink at her, “i’m going to be the one in control tonight, baby.”

the three of you laugh.

“you’re going to be doing more provocative dancing tonight? great. let the whole school know you’re a bin-” blaise interrupts draco, “we’re excited to see it.” he says.

draco rolls his eyes, smiling ever so slightly.

‘so he’s enjoying this too’

soon enough, it’s game time. the boy’s enter the field and you and the rest of the girls and crowd cheer them on. the game is fast and your brother leads the wampus team easily.

come half-time, the horned serpents are tired and ready to have the game over. but wampus house, and the rest of hogwarts, is awake and wild. the routine you preform with your team is a hit instantly and the hogwarts students soon become acquainted with all the cheers.

when the game finally ends, you rush to give your brother a hug.

“you did so good baby brother!” you giggle, pinching his cheek.

his curls on his head are a mess, but the smile on his face doesn’t fade.

“did you see when i threw the quad at finn,” your brother chuckles. “blew up right in his stupid face. i mean that play was legendary.”

you’re about to respond before the wampus team lifts your brother up heading toward the locker room chanting, ‘l/n! l/n! l/n!’.

you stick around after everyone else to clean, telling your team to enjoy the rest of their night. you finally make it to the slytherin stands, ready to clean up the copious amounts of wrappers and cups.

“i don’t need your help.” draco says, emerging from the stands, holding a bag full of trash.

“sucks. i’m already here.” you shrug.

draco groans, “this a prefects’ job. i don’t need some dumb american to help me.”

“you’re not doing a good job at pretending to hate me. and isn’t there two prefects?” you ask.

“i don’t have to pretend. i don’t like you now and i’ll never like you. you’re just so loud.” he shutters.

“answer my next question.” you command, taking the bag of trash from him and picking up more.

“of course there are two prefects’, but parkinson neglects her duties.” he huffs.

“then what’s the issue with me helping again?” you smirk.

draco sighs, defeated, “i guess you’re right. i still don’t like you though.”

“fine by me, draco malfoy.” you smile.

after a few minutes, the two of you are done and walking back to the slytherin common room.

“you know, you’re not the worst company.” you tell the boy.

“thanks, you’re okay.” he says, giving you a teasing look.

“so are we cool?” you ask before stating the password to the common room.

just as draco is about to reply, the door opens and shows the two of you a vibrant scene.

the slytherin common room is in the midst of a party.

you look to draco and see him looking utterly pissed.

‘this should be fun’.

#—myfics !#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x poc! reader #draco x black!reader #draco malfoy series #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts #draco x ilvernmorny! reader #draco x american! reader

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stormhawksplanb · 4 years

Text

Nova and her relationship with the others PART 1: Storm hawks.

Aerrow :

And here come the troublesome duo!

Aerrow antagonizes Nova 78% of the time

Mostly to get her to come out of her shell and actually do stuff.

Like climbing down a small mountain

"I'm scared if heights" "But- you live on a giant ship with us, and fly a skimmer' at inhuman speed-" "I'm still scared of heights!"

He just kind of left her there to her own devices

She eventually climbed down

"Did ya' have fun?"

"... I'm still scared of heights..."

Brother sister rivalry

They race

She doesn't care if she wins, she just wants to go zoom

He also wants to go zoom, but wants to see if he can cause her to do some dumb dangerous stunts

She does

Usually crahses

Why was there rings of fire involved?

No one will know

They don't even know

Nova is damage control

"Now what did I say about doing x,y, and z?"

Aerrow nervously "Not to do x,y and z?"

She won't save him from Piper's wrath.

Not my problem TM

Piper :

Sisters unite!

Unbreakable bond

It's kind of scary

Like, Atmos forbid if piper gets hurt.

Very Angry Nova TM

Piper has to be Nova's damage control when stork isn't around.

She's the only one Nova will listen to.

They like coming up with plans together.

Nova tries to make sure the others follow said plan. Doesn't work.

They also have a silent code system

Even for mundane things

'Do the dishes'

'No'

Despite being completely different people, they get along better than everyone expected when on missions.

Nova is pipers rock, and makes sure no one has the chance to fool Piper

This has cause a couple "I'm not a little kid, you can trust me!" Fights

That qoute has been used by both sides.

They're the quickest to make up when mad at each other.

They just needed a break to cool off

Most of the time no one apologizes, they just kind of, forgive and forget?

Finn

The "This was a terrible idea but neither of us have any clue how to stop ourselves" pair

Nova and finn left alone is a TERRIBLE idea.

You thought Aerrow and nova were bad news

Guess again

With Nova around, ALL of finn's pranks work out.

And no evidence is left behind

He has been pre warned to leave stork alone

They also bicker

A lot

"How was I supposed to know your paint would stain the seat!"

Cue Finn running for his life

Nova chases Finn a lot

This is almost a weekly accurance

But don't f*ck with Finn

Nova will get you, and hurt you badly if you do

As a warning.

Junko

Anyone need some Group therapy?

Cause Junko and Nova are top tier therapist!

Nova looks at Junko like a younger, yet stronger, brother.

She's always checking up on him

And she and funny are first to sense when he's not in a good mood

Tries not to baby him, but does it anyway

Junko treats Nova like a gentleman

"Let me get the door for you miss..."

It's more of a way to pick on stork.

Stork thinks it's kind of adorable they get along and goof around

The food junkies

Nova will never be able to keep up with him

Also the nicest person to tell junko when certain things need to be said

He's extremely understanding anyway though.

Stork :

Death And Doom combo

Can't have one without the other

They're like magnets

Also usually the first to get full of themselves

Mostly because they're always right

They get bullied by the others for being a couple

S T R E S S E D PARENTS

"Did you hear that Finn fell off the ship and twisted his ankle?" "NO!" "You should go check on him them..."

They're also really sneaky

They never fight, but there's a lot of bickering and sass

"Is this contagious?"

"Will this kill me?"

They can be super wholesome, but in a weird way

What's his is mine, and what's mine is his

Stork has been caught in her make up, clothes, and art supplies.

They keep getting handcuffed or tied up in missions.

People are now suspecting that they do it on purpose.

Nova is REALLY good at saying stuff only stork will understand *wink wink*

The "if they're not back by sundown we send a search party"

Search parties are usually sent, and they're just hanging out because their transportation is either stolen, or has exploded.

Raddar:

CUTE BABIES TM

Raddar gets many head scratches

She spoils him. So. Badly.

Tiny outfits

Tiny hats

Nova has yelled at the team for using Raddar to get into dangerously small places

Another prank Duo

Not as successful because Raddar thinks it's funny when the pranks go a wry.

I know I posted about it before but, Tiny hats are scattered and hidden around the condor.

Both of them enjoy making the other jump.

Nova is especially happy that her Albino Ferret gets along with Gear.

#PhotoShoots

#storm hawks #stormhawks #nova #piper #stork #junko #finn #aerrow #Raddar

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

Pains Of Mortality

"Push harder Spaceman!"

"If I push any harder I'm going to break you and the couch!"

"Not if you do it at an angle!"

"Oh my god! Can you two go one day without having a conversation that sounds suggestible?!" Cassie complains from up in her room.

She had her door open while she did her homework and Diana drew in the sketchbook that Steve had gifted her. Cassie usually ignored her parents when they talked like that when she had her door open, but Diana was with her and who knew how much she actually understood. She was tempted to close her bedroom door, but she liked how much more open her room felt when it wasn't.

"What does suggestible mean?" The little girl asks and Cassie sighs.

"Umm...ask Mom okay?" The teen deflects and thankfully Diana nods. She at least understood that were some things she could ask Cassie, and some things that she should ask her parents.

"OW! Fuck me in the liver--" Quill swears and it's followed by laughter.

"What does that even mean?!" Scott cackles.

"Shut up or I'll spank you."

Cassie groans and gathers her things. "Come on Dia. Let's go up to your room."

Diana nods again and gathers her art supplies before climbing down off of Cassie's bed and following her pseudo sister down the stairs to the elevator. As they disappear onto the elevator, Quill pushes Scott out of the way and shoves the couch into place and looks at the younger man with a huff.

"There. Happy now?"

Scott smiles and wraps his arms around the celestial's neck. "Yes. Thank you." He gives Quill a quick peck on the lips and then moves away toward the kitchen. "Want a beer?"

Quill grins and follows him to the kitchen. "Nah. Think I'll have some juice."

"There's only one more left."

"Dibs!" The celestial yells as he runs to the fridge to get to it first.

He shouts triumphantly when he snags the last Capri sun out of the fridge and holds it out of Scott's reach when the younger jumps onto Quill's back. His husband was clearly taking a page out of Cassie's book, but he was unaware that jumping onto his back did absolutely nothing. Quill gave him an A for effort though.

"Give it to me Spaceman!"

"The juice or my--"

"THE JUICE YOU HORNDOG!"

Quill cackles. "Only if you give me another kiss."

"You're insufferable." Scott mumbles half-heartedly before kissing the god again. He snags the juice pouch while doing so and hops off of Quill's back with a happy grin, but before he can even take the straw off, the alarms blare and Scott pouts. "Later." He promises to the inanimate object.

Quill snorts as they go up to their room to gear up for what could only be an Avengers level threat. Every once in a while Quill wondered who or what Scott loved more. Him or juice. He even teased the younger man about it sometimes, and the usual response was Scott taking a sip of his juice while trying to give Quill an innocent look. At least an attempt at one. It always came across as impish or teasing.

When they were both ready, he and Scott walked over to the balcony where Scott shrunk down after grabbing the lapels of Quill's jacket. It ensured that Scott would stay on his shoulder when he was ant sized, and then the celestial would vault the railing and free fall for half a second...much to Scott's very vocal displeasure. It always made him a little motion sick whenever Quill pulled that stunt. There was some dramatic groaning in Quill's ear as he turned on the jets on his boots and flew properly to the battle scene, and he snickers.

"One of these days I'm going to puke." Scott grumbles.

"Well it's a good thing you didn't get a chance to drink your juice."

There was some more unintelligible grumbling from Scott through the comm before he hopped off Quill's shoulder and onto a flying ant. Riding on the god's shoulder was faster but once they got to the vicinity of the battle, Scott went off. It left Quill to find a dense group of minions that was ganging up on Natasha and landed in the middle of them with his godly strength, the shockwave knocking them over.

"You're late." She says as she reloads her guns and Quill scoffs.

"You're welcome. Anyway, I like wearing sweatpants instead of my battle clothes all day, every day like someone I know."

"You weren't even wearing sweatpants today." Natasha points out.

"That wasn't...whatever. See if I help your ass next time."

Quill shoots another minion coming up behind the assassin and she looks at him with an arched eyebrow, which the celestial rolls his eyes at. Ever since joining this psychotic family, it became second nature to protect them so he tended to do things his mouth was otherwise saying. Both Scott and Cassie called him a teddy bear for it and Quill figured he probably earned that. Nevertheless, the two fought side by side while Stephen took on the actual supervillain in charge of the minions. The small army was obviously just a distraction in the hopes that whoever had a stick up their ass could pick off the Avengers one by one, but most of the team had experience with dealing with that situation.

Which meant the supervillain had not done their research. There was the Chitauri invasion, Ultron, the whole war with the stones...one would think any potential bad guy would think twice. There always had to be someone out there who thought they had a better plan though, as annoying as it was. They fought anyway. The kids got civilians out of the way while the team dealt with the minions and Stephen went head on with the main guy. The villain was favoring some sort of electromagnetic field for defense and the sorcerer was trying to get him to put his guard down so Tony could fly in and disable it at the very least.

Everything was going fine until an hour into the fight, when the villain's voice boomed across the battlefield. "One more move and he's fried!"

Quill and Natasha turn their attention to him when even the small army stops their assault, and his heart drops to his stomach when he sees Scott in the villain's grasp. The douchebag was standing at the top of a building with his hand clamped around Scott's neck and holding the younger man over the side. Quill could see that his spouse was desperately trying to get his suit to work so he could shrink out of the man's grip, but it was probably fried by the magnet head. The anger came quickly when Scott was in noticeable pain even from the distance Quill was at because there was a guarantee that Scott's scars were flaring up.

"Quill...don't." Natasha warns and takes the risk of grabbing his arm to anchor him. He wasn't in the state to throw her off and Natasha was trying to keep it that way.

He also didn't want to be the reason Scott was hurt anymore.

Stephen had stopped his assault and Quill could hear him trying to hopefully talk down the villain, but the celestial couldn't hear what was being said. The conversation only lasted seconds but it felt like hours...and the unthinkable happened. The supervillain looked like he was going to release Scott safely but then he looked directly at Quill and sent jolts of electricity into Scott. The thief convulsed in his hand and when he was finished, he tossed Scott off and away from the building. The anguish was enough to push back his growing berserk state and Quill bolted forward to run to where Scott had landed. There were shouts from their teammates from the horror they witnessed and they attacked the villain and his minions with a vengeance as Quill ran over to Scott.

He found him halfway down the street and lying motionless against the wall of a ruined building. His helmet was still down and it had Quill's heart in his throat. Scott was not only electrocuted, but he was thrown from the top of a building without his helmet up.

The odds weren't looking good.

"Scott!" Quill chokes out as he closes the distance between himself and the injured man. He kneels in front of him and looks him over with misting eyes. "Baby?"

He wills his light into his hands and places one at the back of Scott's neck while placing the other over his heart. Panic and even more anguish filled Quill when he felt nothing underneath his hand. No heartbeat.

"No, no, no. Don't do this to me baby." The celestial pours his healing energy into Scott but when nothing happens he sobs. "I can't lose you too. Please."

He sat there, continuously trying to heal what the small logical part of his mind knew couldn't be mended. Scott was unresponsive.

He was dead.

Quill would no longer be able to look into honey-gold eyes and feel like he was falling into paradise. There would be no one to hold at night, to dance or sing with...he lost his best friend. His lover, his better half...his soulmate. The god felt like his heart was ripped from his chest and repeatedly stomped on before it was incinerated in front of him and it hurt. It was one loss too many and Quill couldn't stand it, he let the god in him take over after that with no regards to the consequences. His reason for living was murdered and the asshole was going to pay for it.

He saw red after that. He was only vaguely aware of the ethereal roar he let out before wailing on everything in sight. He didn't know whether it was friend or foe but he no longer cared. His heart was shattered and he couldn't cope anymore. There was screaming, shouting, and eventually someone tried to hold him down but he managed to throw them off the first few times. Whoever it was either got stronger or there was more than one person because the last thing Quill remembered was cool blue eyes and a simple, quietly spoken command.

"Sleep."

Then everything went dark.

=================

Stephen sighs tiredly as the door to the cryo chamber is closed and Tony presses the button to seal the god sleeping inside. The spell Stephen used to incapacitate the raging god took a lot out of him, and when they tried waking Quill again to see if it helped calm him, he only went on another rampage. There was a unanimous decision to put Quill under until they either found a way to calm the god or if the world was going to end. The celestial was the only one who could fix the galaxy.

So the protection of Quill's new resting place fell onto Stephen if they couldn't find a way to calm him. If Stephen passed, the responsibility would fall to the sorcerers at Kamar-Taj.

"I think Quill was the goal all along." Tony says quietly.

"I think so too." Stephen agrees just as quietly. "He had no sense of friendlies and non...he was going after everyone. That person knew he was a god, and knew his weakness."

Tony rubs his eyes. "We've lost Scott. I...I'm still wrapping my head around it. He was part of this family...and I'm still waiting for him to walk through the door to come smack Quill for being overprotective."

"What are we going to do about Cassie?" Stephen whispers.

"Give Maggie a call. We can tell Cassie she's welcome to stay, but if she wants to go back to her mom, she can do that too."

"We'll take care of Scott?"

Tony looks over at Stephen and pulls him into a tight hug after kissing his temple.

"We'll take care of Scott."

That was the end of it. Once Quill was successfully cryogenically frozen and showed no signs of waking and trying to break free, they left the room. Tony went to make preparations for Scott's funeral and Stephen went to the medbay to check on the team members that were injured in the process of trying to hold Quill. Steve, Bucky, and even Thor were a little banged up, and Natasha managed to get away with a few bruises.

To everyone's surprise, Cassie stayed at the tower. She may have lost her father, and she may have only been able to look at Quill through frosted glass, but the Avengers were her family too. She did visit her mom more often though.

Quill?

He remains frozen to this day.

#antlord #scott lang #peter quill #cassie lang #diana stark strange (oc)#natasha romanoff #ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #mama bear au #celestial quill #celestialfamily

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rplinkhoward · 5 years

Text

Laven Secret Santa

Sorry this is so late. Originally was gonna post this yesterday but I got sidetracked ^^”

(So, this is dedicated to @bakausagirabi25. I was your secret Santa, and this was actually an idea that's been rolling around in my head for a while while I was writing my Parent Cross and Child Allen snippets. This is the perfect excuse to explore the idea of Allen actually having feelings for Lavi rather than Link in my original story. I hope it's not too uncomfortable, I know not a lot of people would probably like this kinda thing but…well, I hope you like it! For a frame of reference, this is set in a ModernAU and based on the alternate universe I created for my DGM fic series. Lavi Age: 16. Allen: 14.)

Allen was just about to sit and watch T.V. after getting home from school when he heard the door slam open and a very upset, red-head storm through the entrance and run up the stairs. Allen, who was holding a can of pop in one hand and a massive bag of chips in the other, stared up at the stairs where Lavi ran up to. Then he looked over at Cross sitting in his recliner, who seemed just as confused and concerned.

"I thought you were the one who usually had the teen angst. Did you guys decide to switch it up today and not tell me?" Cross asked while inwardly debating if this situation called for him to get up and 'be a dad' or if it was just a random case of 'fuck the whole world and everyone in it' teen rage that would dissipate on its own.

Allen gave him an annoyed look, mumbling under his breath that he wasn't that angsty and that Cross was a senile old man before he set his snacks down on the coffee table. Then he began to walk upstairs to investigate what was wrong with his friend. Well, ok, he wasn't necessarily a friend…I mean he was…but closer? A lot of people would probably use the term brother to describe their relationship, but Allen never thought it fit properly.

When Bookman was away on business, Lavi would stay with Cross and Allen. He even had his own room because of this. It's been this way ever since they were little, well, really ever since the first day they met. It was after Mana's accident, and he had just gotten used to living in the same space as Cross when he was forced to meet Lavi. Yes. He was forced. By Cross. Why? Because Cross thought that Allen needed to talk to kids his own age (which if he was being honest, he did because he seldom interacted with kids his own age before living with Cross) and Lavi wasn't necessarily…good at making friends. He had Kanda and Lenalee, but there were times Lavi got to be a little…overwhelming. Lavi was quite the hyperactive little kid when they first met (and he still was at times), and though he scared Allen half to death when they first met, the two connected almost instantly.

Allen would never forget how Lavi took everything in stride. His weird eye scar. His arm. The lack of responses Allen gave Lavi because he didn't know what to think about this new world he was thrust into without warning. It didn't faze him at all. Lavi just took one look at Allen and decided that they were going to be 'bestest best best friends,' and that was that. Lavi infused light into Allen's world, a light that he was afraid he would never see again after Mana's death.

The two were inseparable from then on. Attached to the hip. Every time they were around each other, they were touching each other in some way. A hand thrown over the shoulder, leaning up against each other, holding hands, one of their heads laying in the other's lap. Where one went, the other followed. If one was in the bathroom, one was sitting outside, blabbering about something. If one was crying, the other quickly followed suit. Many times they slept together even though they both had separate rooms. If Lavi decided to do some stupid stunt, Allen was always right there, his right-hand man. If one was sick, the other was curled up alongside, also ill.

They were a package deal, alright. They were dubbed 'Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,' 'Double Trouble,' 'Thing 1 and Thing 2', among many others, most, of course, came from Cross. There were many times Cross swore they were twins separated at birth, which could be plausible considering Allen used to have reddish-brown hair before the accident.

Despite all of that, Allen never considered the two of them to be 'best friends' or 'brothers.' What they had was something different. It was a lot deeper, but Allen could never find a word fit to describe it. As Allen stood in front of Lavi's door, hearing the muffled screaming coming from behind the door as the other screamed into a pillow, he felt his chest ache and his eyes sting.

"Lavi, are you ok?" Allen asked, trying to reel in his own emotions. The last thing they needed was for both of them to be an angsty mess.

"Go away!" Was the answer he got. Ow. That sure stung. Especially since that was the first time Lavi told him to go away when he was upset. They'd never done that to each other before, it didn't matter what the other was going through. There were times where Cross or Anita had to separate them because they fed off of each other's emotions, but that happened very seldom. They were only taken aside when the other was in hysterics (mostly Allen) because it was easier to handle one kid in hysterics instead of two.

Well, Allen wasn't going to go away. No matter how much Lavi wanted him to or even after he got an answer. His heart wouldn't let him. So, Allen turned the doorknob and walked right in, against Lavi's wishes.

"Allen! Leave!" Lavi barked out. He was lying down on his bed, his back facing towards Allen. Allen ignored him and instead strode over to lay down beside Lavi, his arm circling around the older's body, his chin resting on his messy, red hair. Allen knew he already lost the fight as he felt his own tears silently roll down his cheeks as he laid with the other who was hugging a pillow, shaking. Allen didn't know if it was from sadness or rage, but he wasn't going anywhere. He was going to ride alongside Lavi on whatever rocky, stormy seas he was traveling on until the waters calmed again.

A small whine left Lavi's lips as he felt the other wrap himself around him, and he felt all of his composure break. The wall he attempted to build up to keep Allen away from him broke, though he knew it was futile to build it to begin with. He knew if the roles were reversed that he would do the same thing. So, the two laid there together for some time, having their little shared cry fest. One knowing why they were crying, while the other didn't.

As Lavi began to calm down, the other following suit, he choked out, "She rejected me…"

She? Rejected? Whoa, hold the phone! When did Lavi have a crush on someone, and why wasn't Allen told!? Well, shit, I didn't know it could do that, Allen thought to himself in surprise, shock, and a little bit of hurt. I mean, they told each other everything, and yet Lavi left out this detail!? Ow!?

"You didn't tell me you liked someone!" Allen huffed, his cheeks puffing up in anger as he smacked the top of Lavi's head, "When were you planning on telling me that!?"

"Ow!" Lavi yelped before he turned over to glare at Allen, his own cheeks puffing up in anger though he didn't look threatening at all. It was hard to look threatening when your eyes were puffy and red.

"I wasn't going to because you're too young to know what love is," was Lavi's statement.

"Too young!? What kinda crap is that!? I'm only two years younger than you, ya jerk!" Allen raged, but the anger was short-lived. There would be time for that later. Right now, he wanted to know who rejected him and why. Allen wanted to know whose butt he needed to be kicking, no matter what kind of rejection Lavi experienced. He didn't know why, but he was actually quite pissed off at the idea of Lavi loving someone, and he didn't know why.

"Well!?" Allen asked.

"Well, what?"

"You can't just say she rejected me and not tell me who it was or how they rejected you! Obviously, it made you upset! So!? Out with it! Who was it!?"

"It was the curly blonde girl in my class. Her name is Brittany-"

"Oh my god, Lavi, you didn't! You fell for her!? Brittany from the cheerleading squad!?"

"Yeah? So?"

"So!? Dude, she's a total bitch! I could've told you that! Anyone on the team could've told you that! She goes through guys like I go through mitarashi dango! She's totally toxic! How could you fall for her!?"

Lavi sighed and turned his back on Allen, "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, come on, Lavi, don't be like that! Look, I do get it, but you also should be logical about it! She treats her boyfriends like crap. Why put yourself in a position like that!?"

"Because it's love. Love makes you stupid and blind to the other person's flaws," Lavi huffed before burying his face in his pillow.

"Alright. Fair. So, how did she reject you?" Allen asked, gearing up for a fight. He already knew the rejection was probably not good, judging from what he knew of this girl. Allen was also super annoyed that Lavi would choose someone like her of all people. I mean, if he was gonna go for a girl over him, at least pick someone worthy! He didn't just think that…

"How do you think?"

"I can think of many different possibilities, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"I asked her out by reciting one of William Shakespeare's poems…Sonnet 18," Lavi lamented.

Allen resisted the urge to groan. Oh, dear gods above, out of all people, Lavi decided to quote a love poem, William Shakespeare no less, to her!? Granted, Allen couldn't understand anything Shakespeare himself, but even so, he would've appreciated it! Especially if it came from Lavi of all people. Lavi was terrific when it came to quoting or reading books. He transformed reality around him every time he read aloud, even if it was something totally dull like some textbook. Lavi made it fun! Besides, Lavi excelled in the drama club, and Allen knew that Lavi wouldn't have just read the poem, he would've acted it! Allen could feel himself seething with rage and jealousy at the fact that this she witch had to be the object of Lavi's affection. Allen would've melted into goo if Lavi performed a poem just for him! The only thing that girl ever appreciated was something glittery and diamond-encrusted!

"It was after practice…and I recited it in front of her friends like a total, lovesick, dumb ass," Lavi laughed scornfully* before continuing, "And when I was done…she laughed at me. It wasn't that soft, airy, kinda laugh either, like an awkward, nervous laughter. She was cackling at me and asked me why I would think she would go out with someone like me. Some guy with an eye patch that was a total factoid, nerd that always read books and hung out with losers…." Lavi recounted forlornly.

"Lavi…" Allen breathed his hand ghosting over the redhead's shoulder in sympathy. He could picture the scene clearly. He could practically feel the way Lavi's heart must've been beating as he recited that poem allowed towards his crush. How it pounded against his ribcage like a wild beast thrashing against a cage wanting freedom. He could feel his palms sweating and the tension in his body, hear the smallest of quivers in his voice. Then he could hear her hideous cackling, the mirth in those disgusting, puke green eyes (or at least that's the color it looked like to Allen). He could hear her nasally voice spitting out those words at Lavi and feel the ache in his chest before his heart dropped down to the ground. Broken. Splintering into pieces, like a plate being thrown to the ground.

"Then her friends laughed at me to…I didn't notice until after she rejected me that one of them was filming the whole thing..."

"I'm sorry…" Allen breathed, his eyes filling with tears once again. His heart hurt…a lot, but he couldn't imagine the magnitude that Lavi must be feeling.

"She told me that no one would ever love an ugly freak like me and that I should just hole myself up somewhere and die," Lavi whispered, "Then I walked away."

Allen gasped, "That fucking bitch…."

"She's right, though…I mean, there hasn't been a girl yet begging me to go to prom with them. I'm not necessarily Mr. popular…"

"That's not true! I'm sure you got plenty of girls who would want to go to prom with you! They're just too nervous to ask you!" Allen responded, holding back on saying that he would personally love to go to prom with Lavi.

"We're best friends, and we live together. You're supposed to say that," Lavi said with an eye roll.

"No, it doesn't! As your best friend, it's my job to tell you the truth, and I am doing so! Brittany doesn't know what she's missing! None of the girls at school know what they're missing! I can say that because I actually know you and I can vouch for that! You're really smart and funny! You always come up with the best ideas-!"

"That's not what Cross thinks. It's a miracle we didn't kill ourselves years ago, …especially when we decided to ride down the stairs in a box. Or that time in the summer where we tried to jump into that cheap pool we had from the roof," Lavi interjected.

"So!? Cross is an adult! It's his job to hate fun!" Allen huffed.

"There is a difference between fun and doing something that could possibly severely injure or kill you."

"Pfft whatever, you're changing the subject!" Allen interrupted before continuing, "Anyways, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me…you're really smart, funny, you come up with great ideas, you are an amazing performer, you have a cool eye patch, you're dreams of traveling the world are super interesting, your body is amazing-"

"I look like a skinny twig-"

"YOU MEAN YOU HAVE AN AMAZING BODY!" Allen yelled over Lavi's interruption, "You have the clearest, most beautiful green eye I have ever seen! You're compassionate, you are a great friend and like the best cuddler on the planet. If they're all too blind to see it, and if you're too blind to see it, then I guess I'll just date you myself!"

"Huh?" Lavi asked.

"I swear to God Lavi if you ignored me all that time-"

"I was listening, I just think I misheard you. What was the last thing you said?"

Allen blinked in confusion before stating, "You're really smart?"

"No! The last thing, not the first thing!"

"You're the best cuddler?"

"No! The very last thing you said!"

"If they're too blind to see it, then I guess I'll just-" Allen repeated before his face went a dark shade of red in realization. Oh my god, he literally just said that.

"Well, it's been a great talk Lavi, but I just realized I have a place to go to! Y-Yeah, a place far away…like under a rock-I mean a house! Yeah, Lenalee's house! I promised that I would do something with her at her house because she lives in a house and yeah! Bye! Feel better soon, " Allen stammered as he tried to make a break for it. Before Allen could fully get off of Lavi's bed, he felt the other grab his leg to keep him where he was.

"Wow! Lenalee lives in a house!? Who would've thought!" Lavi stated sarcastically before he turned serious again, "So, what is this about dating me yourself?"

"It's nothing! It just slipped out. Ya know how it is. Just being a supportive bro. Cuz that's what bros do. Yep. It's only two dudes being bros. Bros being dudes. Nothing to read into too deeply, ya know, "Allen continued to stammer.

"Yeah, because it's totally a dude thing to talk about how beautiful the other dude's eyes are, "Lavi deadpanned.

"Hey, two bros can totally compliment each other's eyes. It's not just a chick thing. Don't be like that," Allen stated.

"Fair. But telling the other bro that they'd date them?"

"It's a compliment!"

"See, I thought that, but it's obvious from how red your face got that it's not just a compliment."

"…."

"I have a skin condition…" Allen offered weakly.

Lavi gave Allen a knowing look. Allen sighed and flopped back down on Lavi's bed, his back now facing him, "Let it go, Lavi."

"Do I look like Elsa to you?"

"Hey, don't be bringing my girl Elsa into this! She is a queen!" Allen snapped.

Lavi rolled his eyes and poked Allen's side, making the other jerk in surprise.

"So…you would date me?"

"…Yeah…so?"

"In a platonic way or like in a…ya know…in the other way?"

"What do you think!?"

The two fell in silence for a long moment.

"Are you disgusted by me?" Allen asked.

"No. Why?"

"Well, I mean, we live together. We're like brothers."

"I think of it more as best friends helping each other out. I mean, where else would I go when Gramps was on one of his trips?"

"Still…isn't it wrong?"

"Life is too complicated to be evenly split down in the middle into right and wrong. Especially when feelings are involved. So, I guess it depends on how you feel. When did you begin to feel differently about me?" Lavi asked, turning around, so his back was facing Allen's.

"I don't know…I don't think my feelings ever changed. It always felt different to me. Ever since we first met," Allen explained, "I didn't really think anything of it because it seemed like you were mostly into girls anyways."

"Yeah…well, I only chased after girls because it seemed like you were set on being with Link for your entire life. I didn't think I had a chance, or that you'd ever look at me that way. I mean, I was always jealous of Link. Ever since you two became friends. Even after all these years. There was no way I could compete with someone like Link," Lavi admitted.

"Yeah, he does make pretty good sweets," Allen admitted, as he turned around to face Lavi's back, "But my stomach isn't the only way to my heart. If someone asked me…I'd have to say that you were my first love. Even if I didn't have any idea what that word meant at the time. I still don't think I even know what it means."

"So…what do we do now?" Allen asked after a few minutes of silence went by.

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"…I want to see where this leads…" Allen responded hesitantly. He was afraid of what Lavi would say.

Lavi hummed softly and turned around, so he was face to face with Allen once again. The two of them stared at each other, Allen looking shy, while Lavi looked back in certainty. Lavi sure looked a lot braver than Allen, but that was always Lavi. It wasn't often that the redhead looked uncertain. When he set his mind out to do something, he always seemed so confident that it was going to work out in the end, even if it was clearly a stupid idea. Allen could remember countless times where they were about to do some silly stunt, and he would look over at Lavi warily to see the other's look of determination. Seeing his face like that always calmed Allen in the end because no matter what happened, he knew that they would be ok. If they ended up getting hurt from their latest stunt, he knew they would be ok because he had Lavi right beside him.

So, though Allen was shy and uncertain of how to go about this new relationship dynamic they created, he knew it was going to be ok. No matter what happened, even if they eventually broke up or whatever, it was going to be ok. They were going to be ok, and nothing was ever going to change about them because of this.

Lavi moved closer, close enough that their noses were touching, his eye flitting up to meet Allen's to check his reaction, to make sure Allen wasn't getting too uncomfortable. Allen wasn't uncomfortable per se, but his heart was pounding like crazy to have Lavi this close to his face. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have batted an eye, but with this new context, having Lavi this close had a whole different meaning.

Then Lavi's lips connected with Allen's shaking ones and-oh! It's like in that moment everything connected so perfectly together, like all the confusion Allen felt over what their relationship exactly was, was finally solved. All that weird tension and confusion he felt fluctuating over the years finally dissipated now that he had an answer.

As Lavi eventually pulled away, much to Allen's reluctance, he asked, "Did that feel ok?"

Allen's response was to move towards Lavi to do it again. He wanted that bliss again. That clarity. He wanted to feel the way their bodies connected together so perfectly. Lavi didn't mind; in fact, he was over the moon that Allen didn't pull away in disgust. He was glad that it was reciprocated, that it didn't make things awkward between them.

"Can you recite that poem for me?" Allen asked after a few minutes of silence as they enjoyed each other's embrace, occasionally kissing each other or another part of the other's body. Just merely enjoying this newfound relationship they created.

"Hmmm?" Lavi hummed lazily. The lack of oxygen to his brain making him dazed, and his head buzz happily.

"The poem you recited to Brittany. I want you to recite it to me. Please?" Allen asked, his head tilting to the side. He wanted to see how animated Lavi would get reciting it again. He wanted to see the love in his eyes as those words floated out of his lips. Allen wanted to see that love directed at him. To appreciate that love. The love that was meant for another but was rejected. Such lovely feelings deserved to be recognized.

"Sonnet 18?" Lavi asked. Allen could see the other search the air, mentally trying to find the compartment the poem was stashed in in his brain. Allen always loved to think of Lavi's head as a computer of sorts with how much information he managed to squirrel away in it. Once Lavi located what he was looking for, that beautiful green eyes paused like a computer arrow finding the article, word, or picture it wanted to click on, then the little window popped open with the information Lavi sought for.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee." Lavi recited, his voice taking on an old accent that Allen heard used when he talked with Bookman and on occasion when Lavi was expressing a large amount of emotions. Neither of them would tell Allen where that accent came from, keeping it a secret that only Bookman and Lavi knew. Even so, Allen still loved it, how soft it sounded, like the wind gently rustling the leaves of trees. He loved the way Lavi would roll his r's a little bit. To Allen, it sounded almost of Scottish descent, but he couldn't be sure.

Allen admired the way Lavi's eye glittered as he recited the poem, the way the glitters would fade momentarily as his eye darkened in love, in lust, passion. Sort of like a flickering flame. This is one of the biggest reasons Allen loved to hear Lavi when he read aloud or performed a piece; he loved the light that would flicker in Lavi's eyes, the emotions sparking and coming to life.

"How was that?" Lavi asked.

"That was adorable. I can't believe she rejected you with that. She wouldn't know what love was even if it hit her in the face," Allen said happily, his cheeks alight in flattery.

"So, you understood the full extent of what that poem means?" Lavi asked, deciding to quiz Allen.

Allen's happy face dropped to one of embarrassment. No, he didn't understand a single word that Lavi said. He really sucked when it came to reading and comprehending what he was reading in general. To him, Shakespeare spoke in total gibberish. It was still romantic to see Lavi spouting off said gibberish, though.

"No…" Allen admitted.

Lavi sighed, knowing that Allen probably wouldn't, "Thought so."

"So, what does it mean?"

"The speaker is basically comparing their beloved to a summer's day. Near the end of the poem, the speaker talks about what makes their beloved different from a summer's day. Summer always ends and moves on to autumn, but the speaker tells their beloved that their beauty will always last, unlike summer," Lavi explained.

"Awwwhhh…you're a total Romeo."

"Pfft, Romeo?"

"Yeah, you know, like Romeo and Juliet?"

"Well, I would hope I would be less stupid."

"What do you mean? Why is Romeo stupid?" Allen asked.

"Oh my god, did you learn nothing from your English class?"

"I learned stuff! I learned that English makes my brain turn to mush!"

"Oh my god, Allen…" Lavi sighed.

(Ahhh, I hope this was fluffy enough where not everything was too angsty! I hope you enjoyed it <3)

#lavigiftexchange2020 #laven #allen walker #lavi bookman #modernAU

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lizzieraindrops · 5 years

Text

Your chance to make the sun rise thrice (Chapter 2)

a river that still runs (8803 words)

Beth Childs has come to Helsinki to meet her best friend Veera for the first time in the Herbs on the windowsill universe, an alternate timeline where the original Helsinki massacre was prevented and DYAD routed by Clone Club Alpha’s successful publicity stunt back in 2001. Veera Suominen and Niki Lintula survived and decided to live in a little apartment together as qpp’s. Numerous Leda clones worldwide are now in contact via a secure online network that Veera maintains.

Note: This chapter is a bit heavier than the rest of the AU. Beth is still struggling with a lot of the same challenges in this universe, even if the events causing them are somewhat different because of such early canon divergence. But the whole point of this story is that things can end up okay no matter how rough it's been. She's getting the help she needs and she's gonna be alright. That said, warning for soft discussion of past abuse, the effects of trauma, depression and anxiety, and some suicidal ideation. And of course, lots of love and learning how to heal, with support from her best friend.

Fun fact: Veera's username is 3mika, and she always sets her font to the precise warm turquoise of hex color #2299aa. She thinks she's hilarious, and she's right.

Also on AO3 | Playlist | Aesthetic sideblog

Part 1: Herbs on the windowsill

Part 2: Someday colors

Part 3: Your chance to make the sun rise thrice | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

***

Beth wakes on a squashy couch that isn't hers. Morning-soft sunlight pours through the window above her, bouncing back off the walls to fill even the shady corners with a warm secondhand glow. Her limbs are soft, splayed under unfamiliar blankets and sinking into the cushions. She doesn't move yet.

The apartment. Helsinki. Beth's really here. She holds herself still, letting the truth sink into her. She half expects the usual anxious tension to clench her into a ball the instant she moves a muscle, but it isn't there. Neither is the invisible weight that so often pins her immobile. She still wakes frequently with both of them holding her body hostage, keeping her muscles unmoving but restless, even in sleep. Right now though, they're gone. She just lies there, soft beneath the window.

It's quiet but not silent. The occasional car on the little road outside chuckles as it passes. A soft rush of water echoes through pipes in the walls, running toward an early riser in another unit. These sounds fall strangely on Beth's Toronto-bred ears, isolated in the stillness of this of this little apartment on the outskirts of the city. Still, the early-morning atmosphere settles comfortably into her jet-lagged bones, murmuring a rhythm for her to sink into. The temporal upheaval of a transcontinental red-eye and a series of exhausted naps yesterday have left her a little unbalanced. And yet, here she is waking up with the day, and the ground under her feels so much more stable than she’s used to.

Beth breaks her stillness with a deep, deep breath that she can feel expanding all the way down to her feet. She stretches, too, but soon pulls the toes that get exposed back underneath the warm, scratchy blanket. The cushions of the old couch creak a little in complaint as she shifts, but her limbs remain supple. For a time, she just observes the sensations. Then, her awareness spreads beyond the couch and the window to the rest of the room.

All around her, an oddly blocky pattern covers the walls. It's one of the first things she noticed when she walked into the apartment yesterday afternoon. The pattern isn't wallpaper like it appears at first glance, but actually a multitude of small photographs. Most of them are unframed, but taped up in crisply aligned rows. In them, she sees the same face infused with a hundred different lives. Just above her, a sleeping, slack-jawed redhead with bulky headphones around her neck sprawls on the very same couch Beth's laying on now. A few rows down, a brunette and a blonde with their long hair in matching wild waves are leaning all over each other and grinning like devils. One of the few framed photos shows a girl with a hospital-short buzz cut and a delighted expression, sitting in front of what looks like a mouthwatering strawberry shortcake. Beth can see at least six others in the background behind strawberry girl. Among them are Mika with her unmistakable scars and Niki with her bright blonde hair, their arms around each other's shoulders.

Morning light glances off the glossy surfaces of the photos on the west wall. The particularly bright reflection off one of the framed photos draws Beth's eye. With a tiny jolt, Beth recognizes one of her own selfies beneath the glass. In it, she's wearing the same old turquoise blue sweatshirt that's spilling out of her suitcase next to the couch right now. Underneath it, she's wearing her track gear, so the photo is at least two years old. She'd had to quit cross-country so she could try to get the shitshow her life had become under control. She vaguely recalls sending it to Mika a long time ago. It's strange to think that her presence has been in this apartment for so long.

She's here. In Finland. Staying with Mika – Mika - and Niki. Far, far away from everything.

Sprawling on the couch she slept on with a sigh as if she hadn’t a care in the world, Beth can't believe she's really gone and done it. She's run so far away that there's an ocean between her and her problems. It’s so much better than she's dreamed, even if it's only for a little while. It’s worth it, even though she'll be going back far too soon. For the first time in years, it feels like she’s where she’s supposed to be right now.

It had all started out as foolish idea she'd floated one Saturday morning, months ago. She hadn't been serious at all. She'd woken up so relieved at not having to get up and go to work, until she remembered her weekly therapy appointment with a hopeless groan.

Putting off the genuinely daunting prospect of hauling herself out of bed, she reached out to snag her phone from on top of her dresser, checking to see if she'd heard from Mika overnight. After all, Helsinki was nine hours ahead, so Mika had already seen most of the day that was just beginning for Beth. They talked so often these days, since they'd first made contact over two years ago. Rarely a day passed without touching base. But there wasn’t anything since Beth had checked last night. She took it upon herself to send the first message of the day.

runwaterblue: god, i dont wanna get up and deal with any of thsi shit today

After her world fell apart, after finding out about Project Leda, after realizing that all her nightmares and more were real, after her father...

runwaterblue: wish i could come visit u and get away form everything for awhile

Mika replied almost immediately.

3mika: you can

It was evening in her time zone, but to be honest, Beth had no idea if she had anything resembling a regular sleep schedule. The girl was always online.

3mika: though you really should go to your appointment. you always feel better afterward

runwaterblue: howd you know i have therapy today

3mika: you always have an appointment saturday afternoons

runwaterblue: yes but how do you remember that? i cant evne remember my own appts lmao

3mika: you mentioned it months ago when you switched from sundays to saturdays

Beth shook her head with a smile. Mika was so good with details.

3mika: anyway. you’re welcome here, if you can get here

3mika: it would be great to see you

3mika: Niki wouldn't mind. we've had a bunch of Ledas visit us here, it's always fun

3mika: except that one time Dani and Ary got into a fight over football. some French-Italian team rivalry thing. that was not fun.

Beth laughed. It was funny how Mika was so good at making her do that, even on days like these. She leaned back against her pillow and held her phone over her head without sitting up, being careful not to drop it on her own face. She'd done that before. More times than she'd admit.

runwaterblue: i was kidding. id love to visit, but idk how id get there

runwaterblue: u should see the americans go off abt their football lmao. they're nerly as bad as the hockey freaks here

3mika: pls no

3mika: no more sports. it was a year ago and I’m still exhausted

3mika: sports are banned in this apartment.

Beth snorted. Mika wanted nothing to do with sports of any kind, and with Beth's athletic record, the topic had become a point of mutual teasing between them.

In so many ways, they were such different people, DNA be damned. Mika was reticent where Beth was outgoing. (Or at least, Beth had been. She was never quite sure how to think of herself these days.) Clone drama aside, Beth had been a pretty average Canadian high schooler. She got reasonable grades, played a few sports, and kept mostly out of trouble because there would be hell to pay if she didn’t. Mika was a brilliant homeschooled autistic orphan who had been raised in near isolation by her guardian after surviving the hospital fire that marked her skin for life. Beth mostly listened to pop music, and where no one else could hear, the occasional classical symphony. Mika held fast to Finland's weird obsession with death metal and dabbled in literally everything else.

And yet, Mika understands Beth like no one else does. And it's not just because they've both been through all this Project Leda bullshit. Though Beth doesn't know what she would have done without Mika to help her through that, too.

Beth won't ever be able to forget the moment that everything changed. Recognizing a her own face from the mirror on the evening news stopped her in her tracks, as something in her gut caved in with the hollow certainty that it wasn't her. Then face after face flickered before her, a flipbook barrage of déja vu. Blonde and smiling. Scarred and pensive. Braids and piercings and a rakish grin. Beth was rooted in place as people she had never been wearing things she had never worn said things she was never supposed to know.

That utter strangeness on the screen immediately seeped into her life like an oil slick into a river, tainting every thing she thought she knew with clinging uncertainty. Her father was inexplicably even more upset about it than Beth was, yet adamant that they shouldn't look into the matter. But it was already too late to stop herself from thinking. With slow horror, the truth of what exactly his behavior must mean dawned on her. And yet, even with the desperate growing certainty about who her Leda monitor must be, it was hard to believe that he could be anything other than her plain stern father.

He was always a bit strict and overprotective - probably well more than a bit, she realizes these days. But she’d thought that's just what it was like to be a cop's daughter. He'd never done anything really extreme, nothing beyond the firm discipline any kid could expect. He was just not a man to be trifled with, that was all. So until everything she thought she knew shifted that day and threatened to topple every assumption she’d built her life on, she had never truly dared to cross him.

Outright daring him to say to her face that he wasn't her monitor was probably considered a step beyond trifling. He did not take it kindly.

Two months later, Beth and her mother were living in an apartment on the opposite side of the city. It took two months for the two of them to lay plans to leave together, for good. For two months, her every move was watched. She spent two months knowing there would be hell to pay if she didn't give the performance of a lifetime pretending everything was fine, even while sirens blared inside her day and night. Two months was more than enough to teach her things she never wanted to know about the hidden marks fear leaves on the body.

Even after she finally escaped, her life was in tatters and nothing made sense. It wasn’t just the sudden jarring discovery of Project Leda, or the crisis it had forced her to confront. It was learning that, deep down, she had known that she’d never once felt free. She’d unconsciously kept herself from knowing to avoid exactly that conflict of wills that she’d known she would lose.

Trying to come to terms with what had happened and how it changed everything, Beth was continuously losing her balance. Questioning which parts of her life had been screwed over by her father and which by being part of some ridiculous supervillain science experiment was like trying to stand on two kickboards in a pool. She couldn't find her footing, and all she could do was try and stay afloat. She had to repeat her whole junior year of high school that she lost to this shitshow, while starting over at a new school, and only barely scraped her way into senior year. Now that she knew how honestly terrible she'd been at judging who in her life she could trust, it was as hard to talk to old friends as it was to make new ones.

Therapy helped her start sorting out what she was feeling, and how the environment she’d grown up in was really not the healthiest. She hadn’t realized how much she’d learned to doubt her own perceptions. That made constructing any kind of new understanding of her situation an uphill struggle. And of course, her therapist couldn’t help her confirm anything about a human experiment that was so illegal it had been an international secret. As she continued to stumble forward, Beth even started doubting her former certainty of the identity of her Leda monitor. She questioned herself and everything she knew until she wanted to scream with frustration or weep with confusion. The floor of the counselor’s office could have been mopped with her tears. It was, quite literally, driving her mad.

So, finally, Beth had taken up the invitation on the banner of every Leda news feature to "Contact the secure, clone-run Clone Youth Group Network (CYGNet) for answers by emailing [email protected]."

She wanted something concrete that would help convince her brain to stop reenacting these head games that warped her reality. It still insisted on playing through the patterns it had been taught, even in its teacher’s absence. She needed something that could brace her against the ideas that she was really just paranoid, overreacting, accusing, that this was all her fault for making a big deal out of nothing. Even with his other faults (cruelties, her mind whispered) aside, at least his involvement with Project Leda was unforgivable, and she wanted proof of it. Maybe if she had that, she could stop being mad at herself for not wanting to forgive. And if anyone had that proof, CYGNet would.

Maybe it was just because of the sheer blunt honesty about her motives, or the inescapable vulnerability of the message Beth sent, but Mika had replied to her within a day. And she'd been so gentle about it, too, enough to make Beth later question where the stereotype of autistic brashness came from. Then again, over email, Mika had all the time she needed to compose her thoughts and lay them out as softly as she wanted. She didn't have to spit them out as fast as she could to keep pace with a quick and painfully overwhelming world.

Hi Beth Childs,

I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. I still don't know how they got away with doing things like this for so long. I suppose people will always find ways to be cruel. But we've survived this long, and the whole point of CYGNet is to help us all heal. The experimental network has been dismantled, and we are assembling resources to help us. We've brought mental health professionals on to the project to develop custom programs for our needs. We can make them available to you, if you are interested.

I attached scans of some of your files that we recovered from DYAD. There are a few case reports with the signature of the person you asked about, spaced throughout your lifetime. There are also financial records with his name in the list of paid employees. He was without a doubt part of the Leda monitor program. I can provide all of the documentation that we have related to you, if you like, but I thought that would be too much all at once. I know these are hard to look at, but I hope they help let your mind rest. They are very real, and every awful thing we have experienced was also real, no matter how they tried to convince everyone that we were making it all up.

Please take your time with these, and stay in contact if you want to. You can join our mailing list, if you want to know when we have new information or new resources available. We're here for you.

And hey, if you just want to talk to someone who knows what it's like to deal with all of this, I'm here, too. You can reach my personal inbox or IM me at [email protected]. It'll be okay.

-Veera

Beth had started crying before she even finished reading the letter, much less opened the attachments. She cried so often these days. She only knew why half the time. But this time, it felt like the tears were extracting some of her pain as they left her, instead of just overflowing from the unending wellspring of her directionless distress. All of this was real, and someone else knew it.

Though she was grateful beyond measure for her mother’s untiring support, they were each other’s too-close, ever-present reminders of what they’d survived, trying to act like they weren’t, trying to convince each other and themselves that they were okay. Beth had needed something else, too, something until now unnamed.

This was a handhold, a backstop Beth didn't know she'd been desperate to find. It wasn't just the confirmation of what she’d concluded about her father. The ability speak plainly to someone she didn't feel the need to pretend around was an exhale of a breath held too long. At least one person in the world not only understood, but really and truly didn't want or expect her to act like any of this was normal or okay, or that she would ever be the same again.

Veera – or Mika, as she often went by online – made good on her offer of a sympathetic ear. Their correspondence started off with awkward, grammatically correct messages about the less painful details of their lives. Mika told her about the farmer’s market three blocks away where she went walking early in the morning before it got busy, and the plant stand there that her best friend and roommate Niki (also a Leda) had to ask her to stop buying so many succulents from.

At first, Beth tried to chatter like she used to, but there were no safe subjects. What had happened had touched all of her life. Normally, she’d talk about school, or sports, or her friends. But she was trying to start all over again at a new school with all the struggles that came with it. She didn’t have the time or energy for sports anymore, and talking about them hurt, now. Running used to make her heart sing. But no matter how she tried, there was no joy in the motion anymore. To top it all off, it was as hard to connect with old friends from her old life as it was to try and make new ones. She spent most interactions either doubting her own character judgement or dreading the moment people recognized her Leda face from the news.

She didn’t know how to talk about any of it to anyone. Maybe she could have if it had been just the clone thing or just the dad thing. But the two were inextricably entangled, and she still couldn’t even explain it to herself. It was all unbelievably horrifying, and any time she tried to be honest about it, people ended up disbelieving or horrified. Shocker.

Maybe, though, it wouldn’t be weird to talk about it with Mika. Mika already knew the worst. Beth didn’t have to hide that hurt from her to keep from shaking her world, or to keep her dismissal from hurting Beth. Maybe that’s what was hurting the most: the feeling that even after escaping, she still had to pretend to be okay. That compulsive stifling feeling choked her whenever it bubbled back up. On her bad days, a simple “how are you?” could reduce her to a blank face plastered over a raw tangle of emotions held motionless her own iron grip.

But Mika mentioned having bad days, too. Days came where she was too scared and nightmare-weary to do anything but make herself some tea and soak up some sunlight in the safety of home. Beth could casually say things like after those two months, i still twitch every time i hear a door open, and i wish my body would quit feeling like it doesn’t exist, my legs feel numb. It barely broke the surface of what it was like in her head, but was discomfiting enough for people that she held her tongue at school.

Sometimes, Beth got tired of constantly thinking about all this shit and tried to lighten things up. On one comically disastrous occasion of cultural exchange, she liveblogged Mika her attempt at eating the infamous Scandinavian lutefisk, along with an audio recording of the incoherent horrified noises she made after tasting it. In return, she received a recording of someone, presumably Mika, laughing harder than she’d ever heard anyone laugh before. It made Beth smile. Not many things did, back then.

Slowly, as the formality fell away from their transcontinental conversations, their heavier stories seething below the surface seeped in. Beth had been in therapy long enough now to know that she couldn't just recklessly unload on people the way she did in counseling sessions. But a counselor couldn't always provide the same kind of unspoken solidarity that someone in the same boat could.

Bit by bit, slipped into the chats that were becoming a daily occurrence, they talked about monitors, about what the experiment had really all been for, why that both was and wasn’t important, and how they'd discovered they were a part of Project Leda. Putting words to the pain hurt, a lot. But the ability to lay out long-unspoken truths in front of each other, knowing they were believed in the way that only people who have shared something can, was a healing kind of pain instead of the festering one Beth had been living with.

The two of them had more in common than they'd thought, growing up a world apart. Beth's experience raised under the subconscious wariness of her father's hovering thumb felt a lot like what Mika described growing up largely isolated with her former guardian. But sometimes, whenever they realized that something they'd both thought was normal was pretty not, they got a good laugh out of it despite the weight of their pasts. Mika seemed somewhat accustomed to her normal being considered pretty weird, so she usually took the revelations in stride better than Beth did. Beth wouldn't find out for at least a year after meeting her that it was because of her Asperger's, since it was a topic Mika seemed quite sensitive about.

Mika explained it once, in a conversation full of long pauses on her part and watching the typing icon disappear and reappear on Beth’s. The way she put it, it just meant that her brain worked a bit differently than most people's, processing sounds and sights and all the information it took in at different speeds and with different emphases. The difference could turn everyday things like the sound of a refrigerator running into a splitting headache, or something as simple as the soft texture of her favorite jacket into a kind of bliss. That alternative way of processing also extended to things like words and emotions as well. Sometimes, it took her longer than the world was willing to wait to process them into something that made sense. It often made communication tricky, trying to compensate for the gap in mutual understanding with most people. The world and the people in it could be so overwhelming sometimes, so fast and bright and full of noise and uncertainty and bewilderingly arbitrary social conventions. But the biggest challenge was other people expecting her to do everything the same way they did, ignorant of the fact there were any ways to exist other than their own, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was already putting in at least twice as much effort to communicate with them as they were with her.

And yet, even coming from such a different perspective, Mika gets it. Beth says sometimes i dream of drowning and its not a nightmare and i wake up not knowing how to feel, and Mika says I still dream of burning and wake up not knowing which fires are real, and they both say yeah. And they sit there across the world from each other knowing these things, knowing that it doesn't fix anything. And yet, it does change something. Nothing's any better, really. But somehow, the knowledge that someone else understands makes it a little easier to bear.

And that's just it. Somehow, without ever even having seen her face, Mika sees Beth clearer than anyone. All of her, all the ugly parts she hides so that they can't hurt anyone, and all the good parts that she also hides so that nobody can hurt them or take them away from her. Mika sees all of that and then just tells Beth another story about the Northern Lights she sees on the regular. Apparently, in Finnish, they’re called "fox fires." Beth hardly ever sees the aurora, living relatively far south in a bright city. But her stories about life in the metropolis by the lake intrigue Mika as much as the tales of the twisting green lights do her. And Beth can talk about something lighter again while not having to pretend that the heaviness isn’t there, too, even while she’s just once more trying and failing to explain poutine. For her, the weight never really goes away. But the effort of pretending she’s not carrying it takes more out of her than the weight itself. Mika understands that.

Maybe that’s why Beth had talked it over with Mika first, even before her mom, when she was considering taking a gap year after she hopefully managed to finish her senior year of high school. (God, it was so hard to think about English or math or whatever when just that morning she’d woken from a nightmare about being back in a not-home house that she never escaped.) Beth's mom had been so unbelievably supportive of Beth's recovery, even while she herself was adjusting to the wrenching change in both of their lives. It was both inspiring and a little intimidating. If her mom managed to run a household and raise a daughter all on her own, even while trying to heal from her own trauma, how could Beth not do her utmost, too? She was grateful to be able to talk to Mika about it, to get a reality check from someone who both understood her situation intimately and didn't make Beth feel that pressure of expectation. In the end, Beth did decide to take a year or two off before considering college, and her mom was again nothing if not supportive. Beth figured, after this entire mess, she deserved some time to herself to work on sorting her shit out, and her mom agreed.

After graduating with reasonable if not flying colors, Beth worked a series of part-time and odd jobs that didn't stress her out too much, letting herself focus on her own healing. In between her mom's support, seeing a counselor regularly, and the security of having a friend she could really trust, Beth felt like she was making progress. Slow progress, sure, but progress, nonetheless. Considering that she had seventeen years' worth of lies to unbelieve and emotional trauma to finally acknowledge, Beth figured that there was only so much she could do in the three years she'd had.

Her days were still hard. Getting sleep and waking up and eating and even just existing were still so fucking hard sometimes, and it was horrible. Some days, the thinnest sheet trapped her in bed like it was a car pinning her down. It felt so stupid for such simple things to be so hard. But then her therapist would remind her that that’s what mental illness and trauma was, that this was what the wounds in her mind and heart made her feel like. And once in awhile, sun broke through the shadows, and she had a day that reminded her what an okay day felt like – that okay days existed. That more might.

Now, she’s here, lying in a bright living room so far from home, with her dearest friend in the next room. She’s comfortable, except for the knot in her neck from sleeping oddly on the couch. The soreness pales in comparison to the usual tensions that are so strangely absent. Beth can’t remember the last time she felt this okay. She’s not steeling herself to go to work. She’s not dreading the next conversation with her mother that goes quiet as they both remember awful things they don’t mention. She’s not bracing herself for the next time her brain runs rampant worrying about whether she’ll run into the subject of her restraining order somewhere in the city and have to wonder if he'll honor it.

None of that reaches her here. There’s something about this quiet little pocket of space. It’s overrun with a proliferation of potted plants, from the sprawling lacy-leafed monster in the corner, to the fern peeping out of the kitchen, to the vine cuttings spilling out of an oddly familiar leaf-shaped glass bottle on the sill. Sunlight streaks through leaves and windowpanes and across the colorful patchwork of rugs on the floor. In the midst of it all, Beth is held by a palpable aura of gentleness. It holds her so softly that she doesn't need to hold herself in. It's like the layer of caution that she always keeps wrapped between herself and the rest of the world has simply dissolved away. In this moment suspended in morning light, she is okay.

She feels safe.

The realization undoes something in her. She feels the tears starting, and she expects the taut tension of involuntary stifling that always comes with them to return. But it doesn’t. She lies still and soft on the couch with the water creeping over her cheeks, breath occasionally catching but flowing freely. She savors it in the quiet.

The soft thunk of an ill-fitted door opening breaks into her odd reverie. Mika’s up. Beth sniffs and scrubs at her eyes halfheartedly, but she can’t hide them right now and she doesn’t want to. Mika notices immediately, and comes trotting over with quiet steps, leaning forward all concern.

"Beth," she says softly. She shifts from foot to foot like a nervous cat, watching Beth with enormous eyes. Beth has never met anyone else with such an intense stare. Or maybe it's just the fact that Beth knows beyond all doubt that she's being looked at by somebody who really sees her in her entirety. It's like she's staring right into Beth's soul. But Mika was able to do that long before they saw each others' faces. They've shared so many thousands of words over screens and seas, so many emotions that have gone otherwise unspoken, so many too-early mornings and too-late nights on the fringes of each other's dawns and dusks.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally, a flash of that sick tension runs through Beth’s body. It’s been okay when Mika has asked that before, when it was just silent letters on a screen. But out loud, the question falls on her ears like every well-meaning inquiry she’s ever had to scramble to find an acceptable answer for. The strain begins to cinch tight around her again like coarse ropes across barely-healed skin, ready to compel her to replace the truth with something safer. Her arms and legs tied, she begins to freeze, railing against herself for tainting the softness, the safety of this place.

"Beth." Mika says again, softer but more urgent.

In the gap between thoughts created by hearing her name, Beth seizes the chance to redirect them to the present. She clings to the welling in the corners of her eyes, the warmth of the sun caressing her back. The leaves of trees whisper outside the third-floor window in a mild breeze. The brightness spills over the sill and across Mika’s asymmetrical, half-craggy face and lights up tufts of her short hair as she steps closer. The couch dips as Mika sits down next to her, tilting Beth toward her.

Without meeting her eyes, Mika lifts a hesitant hand that hovers in the air between them, uncertain yet reaching. Her gentle palm falls onto Beth's forearm as softly as a floating leaf. The fingers curl around Beth’s arm just below the wrist, firm but not tight. Comforting.

The softness surrounding Beth seeps back into her, saturating her. As the memory fades like a ripple into water, the tension slackens. But it leaves her shaky, with traces of a familiar ache in her neck muscles, one that goes deeper than the simple stiffness from the couch. She sucks in a few unsteady breaths while Mika gives her arm a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry,” Beth says in a small, awkward voice.

Mika tilts her head. “Why?”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to bring all – this mess, in here.” Beth rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. “It’s so... soft, and okay, and – I don’t wanna ruin it,” she says, trailing off into a mumble.

“Hey.” Mika moves her hand from Beth’s arm to her shoulder. When Beth looks at her, she’s looking right back. Mika's eyes dart down to the floor for a moment, but then return to hold Beth’s with deliberate steadiness. “It’s alright. It’s like this here because we wanted it to be safe to be messy. You’re not ruining anything.”

“... Oh.” She’s steadied by Mika’s fingers curling around her shoulder, by the tendrils of sunlight spreading across her head and back and arms. Mika’s voice is small but steady, and somehow it comes from the same throat that makes that huge pealing laugh. It’s so strange how they sound nothing alike. Until yesterday, Beth hadn’t heard her voice since the lutefisk incident. They’d mostly kept to text and pictures. It had seemed easier, the way it gave them both plenty time to think before they spoke through their different uncertainties. Beth was already planning her trip before they realized that they’d never actually called each other. By that point, it sounded like more fun to meet in person the old-fashioned way.

"I'll make you some tea." Mika abruptly stands and lets go of her. Beth is sad to lose the contact. She flits across the room toward the kitchen in her soft cotton pajama pants, complemented by yet another black graphic tee for yet another Scandinavian metal band Beth's never heard of. Or at least, she'd never heard of them before Mika, who has something to say about all of them, and now Beth knows more than she'll ever need to.

Mika moves in and out of view behind the half-wall that separates the little living room from the kitchen. The fronds of the fern on the counter make a green rustling as she brushes by them. It sends soft feathered shadows waving across the wall opposite the window. Beth hears the rush of water boiling out of sight, and soon sees steam rising from the mug that's being handed to her.

"It's hot," Mika says unnecessarily. She sits down next to her again, this time leaning into Beth with her arm. Beth’s glad for it.

"Have you ditched the bags and gone loose leaf?" Beth says, eyeing the fragments of bright green leaf free floating in her mug.

"It didn't come in a bag. It came from the window."

"The window?"

"It's basil tea. For the fear and pain. Five large fresh leaves in two hundred and fifty milliliters water. We grew it here."

Beth takes a cautious sip. It's surprisingly sweet, and the savory smell of the steam rising from it curls into her sinuses. The aching in her head and neck begin to relax. It's unfamiliar, but it feels like home should, just like everything else here.

"Thanks," Beth says. On an impulse of craving closeness, she leans her head onto Mika's shoulder with a sigh. The sensation of contact deepens as Mika leans against her, too.

Beth holds the cup close, fingers wrapping around its warmth. She takes another sip and gets a bit of leaf stuck in her teeth. The way she scrunches up her face trying to dislodge it pulls a tiny laugh out of Mika.

“You don’t have to be okay here,” Mika whispers. “You can just be. That’s what we do.”

Beth finds her eyes wet again, but she smiles while she sets her mug down and wipes them away. “Kinda already wish I could stay here,” she says with a chuckle.

“... That’s probably not impossible.”

“Really?” Beth asks wryly. “Not even twenty-four hours, and you’d already be willing to put up with me?”

“Twenty-four hours and twenty-seven months.”

Beth melts a little even while waving the idea aside. “I wasn’t serious.”

“I know, but... weren’t you looking at the school here?”

“I mean, yeah, but... really, my mom just thought I deserved a break to get away for a little while. She’d saved up a bit, and I didn’t want to make it a big deal or anything, but she really wanted me to. She knew I wanted to come see you. Checking out the school was mostly an excuse. I know it’s a great place, but... I don’t really think it’ll help with what I wanna do.”

“What do you want to do?”

Beth sighs and leans back, looking at the ceiling. Mika follows her so that they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and pulls her feet up to tuck them in cross-legged.

She flounders for a moment, trying to find where to begin. She hasn’t told anyone this yet.

“This Leda crap has been kind of awful, right? It’s screwed so many of us up. But there’s only, what, a few hundred of us? And that’s not the only reason things get messed up.” She swallows. Her eyes trace irregularities in the ceiling: a knot in an exposed wooden beam here, a sealed and repainted crack there. “Kids like me are a dime a dozen. There’s so many people out there going through hell, just because they got stuck with people who are hurting so much that they hurt other people. And then they go on and hurt more people. It’s a cycle that’s really fucking hard to break.”

Breaths that have become harsh force her to pause and let them lengthen again. A touch on her knee draws her eyes down to a hand resting on it palm up, offering. Beth takes it. Mika squeezes her fingers in reassurance.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a cop like my dad, did you know that?” Mika, eyes wide, shakes her head. “Yeah. That was always my plan. I used to think he was so brave. Wanted to be just like him.” She shudders. Mika grips her hand, steady. “Even if I could do it better than he did, the system is still full of people like him. It’s broken. I couldn’t – I can’t end up like that. I can’t keep being a part of this shit. I want to actually help people.

“I never thought about it before I met you, but the people you brought in to do therapy programs and all for CYGNet? They’re amazing. The stuff I’ve gotten from them has helped me so much. And I don’t know what I’d do without my regular therapist. These people really help people like me. Like all of us. Those are the kind of people I wanna be like.”

Beth’s voice drops and becomes small and secretive, but firm. “I’ve been looking at the social work programs at home. There’s some really good ones at the uni near where mom and I live now. And that’s the city where I grew up. I know how things work there. I know it won’t be easy, but. I could really... do stuff.”

Silence stretches. Beth looks at Mika, only to be completely thrown off by an expression she can’t make heads or tails of. “What?”

Mika’s face is blank yet soft, only barely hinting at her thoughts in the faintest crinkling of her eyes. It’s funny, how quiet her face is most of the time. Beth never would have guessed, going off her online impressions of her. Mika’s so expressive and eloquent with her written words. In person, she is much more subtle. But even after only a day spent around her, Beth is already starting to see how her movements speak volumes in a language of their own. The flickering of her hands flares to life with excitement. The casual shake of her head tosses her hair out of her eyes even when it’s not in the way, like she’s clearing the slate of her mind. And much like Beth these days, she goes very still and tense when she’s getting uncomfortable or overwhelmed, the way she did after a particularly loud whistle at the train station. It shows in her shoulders. They’re soft now though, and she just watches Beth and squeezes her hand once more.

“You’re really amazing, you know,” Mika says.

“Wh- huh?”

“Well.” She looks away and turns their hands over, but doesn’t let go. “After the awful things you’ve been through – nnnh! Don’t pretend,” she says, looking back sharply as Beth begins to protest that she didn’t have it that bad. Mika knows her so well. Beth can’t help but laugh a little. “After all that, you just want to help people. All I ever want to do is get away from them, most of the time.”

Beth quirks a brow at her with a bemused grin. “Really? Because setting up and running an organization that provides mental health resources and extremely important information to a few hundred people is a really shit way to not help people.”

“I never talk to most of them! And CYGNet only has one hundred and thirteen members, not hundreds.”

Beth rolls her eyes with an exaggerated motion. “Yeah, so, you’ve somehow convinced, what, a whole freaking third of a huge group of scared strangers to trust you?”

“A lot of that was Niki and the press team, she’s way better at talking to people th–”

“And you’ve been careful enough and clever enough to keep them and all the information you got from DYAD safe and secure? I can’t even imagine the organization and, and cyber-security and whatever the hell else you put into all this. That you still put in. And look what you’ve done. You’re helping so many people. You found something only you could do, and do it really damn well.”

Mika looks down into her lap, half her face flushed. The raised ridges and swirls of the scarred side are pink, but not as dark. Her shoulders curl in a little, but she doesn’t pull her hand away from Beth’s. If anything, she holds on a little tighter.

“You don’t have to like talking to people to help them. You don’t have to be someone you’re not,” Beth says gently, then pauses as a new thought occurs to her. “Why did you talk to me?”

Mika gives a tiny shrug, eyes still downcast. “You reached out to me. Most people are scared, or suspicious, or hard to talk to, but you were just... honest. You told me exactly what you needed, even if that meant sharing your painful secrets with a stranger. I...” She trails off, looking toward the closed door of Niki’s bedroom. She blinks slowly.

“It reminded me of something Niki said a long time ago. When we first met. We didn’t trust each other at first. But when things got bad, we needed to, and she just... We’d only known each other for a day. She told me a true story that people had called her crazy for, and trusted me to believe her. And when I told her about... my Asperger’s, about being autistic, she just told me something about herself, too, another thing that a lot of people get cruel about when they know. This was back before she came out, too. She was hardly out to herself, then, really. But she told me anyway. ‘Secret for a secret,’ she said.”

“She’s really special to you.” It’s not a question. How could it be, with the sheer softness of love rounding out every syllable and making Mika melt into the couch and into Beth’s shoulder.

“She’s... yes. She’s my family.” Mika looks out the window, and the bright light dances over her nose. “I don’t remember ever having one.”

Beth slings an arm around Mika’s shoulders and smiles as she curls closer into Beth’s side. “Looks like you’re part of a pretty big one, now,” she says, waving a hand at the dozens of photos on the walls circling them.

“I guess so.”

“No need to guess. The evidence is right there. And I’m right here.”

Mika turns those huge eyes on her again. She’s done that multiple times now, even though Beth knows she rarely looks people in the eye. Eye contact is too much, most of the time. She describes it as too intense, too distracting, too intimate. Meeting those eyes – so like Beth’s own, but filled with such a different kind of light – Beth thinks she understands a glimmer of it. If every eye she met were as overwhelmingly expressive as Mika’s, Beth probably wouldn’t meet them all either. It keeps taking her by surprise, coming across their eloquence in an otherwise quiet face. Caught by that gaze, every emotion that lives in it touches Beth. Right now, it’s soft with adoration but shaded with a gradient of doubt. The width and depth of Mika’s eyes reveal a clear view of a vulnerable, aching, healing heart that spent eleven years starving for the love it needs and still hasn’t forgotten the famine.

It might be breaking Beth’s heart. No wonder Niki is always showering her with hugs and kind words and gentle hands on rounded shoulders. Maybe one of these days, Mika will have spent long enough finally getting to soak up all that affection that she won’t look at Beth like this when she says the simple truth.

“Hey. Here I am. Really.” Beth’s voice is a little choked up. She pulls Mika into a proper hug with both arms. Mika squeaks in surprise at being squeezed so emphatically, but returns it all the same. God, but she gives the best hugs of anyone Beth’s ever met. All contact and even, firm pressure and steadiness. “It’s so damn good to see you. I can’t believe you’re...” real, Beth thinks but doesn’t say. I can’t believe I didn’t imagine you. I can’t believe you’re just as kind as your words. I can’t believe how good it feels to be around you. “I can’t believe I’m really here.”

Mika doesn’t say anything. For a moment, one of her hands leaves Beth’s back to fiddle with something, then comes back to give her a little squeeze that Beth returns.

Beth’s phone buzzes a notification behind her on the little glass-top table next to the couch. The table’s wooden base is a round blob carved into the shape of a very fluffy and very ugly sheep with curly horns. Beth’s arms loosen from their embrace as she turns to look at it, bemused. No one but Mika really messages her except for her mom. But if it’s morning here, it’s about time for bed at home. She checks it, just to be sure she’s okay.

But it’s not from her mom.

Mika reaches out to gently grasp her forearm again as Beth shoots her a quizzical look and opens the message.

3mika: I'm glad you're here.

Beth's heart quails.

To think, that her darker days might have kept her from ever being in this moment. Beth might never have gotten to this point, hurt but healing and here. Here, she's seven time zones and an ocean away from the cycle of pain she grew up in, barely aware she needed to escape. She might well feel safer right here in this crossroads of time and place than she has at any other in her entire life. It's a realization that's as humbling as it is nourishing.

Already, the distance this journey has taken her has given her so much perspective. She wasn’t sure, before, whether the work she’s been considering was just a response to what she’s been through – or just a way for the cycle to keep her within its spiral. But she’s seen what Mika can do, what Beth could do one day, if she keeps on.

It won’t be easy. She’ll go back, and deep-seated memories will try to drag her back into small dark places. But being here, even for only a few hours, has already changed her. She can change, and she can grow, and she is already tapping into new strengths that her past has yet to reckon with. She is here, right now, in spite of all of it. And today is not a dark day.

“Me too, Mika. I’m glad to be here, too.” Beth’s tongue stumbles over the name, because she’s never said it out loud before, only read it on a screen.

Surprise sends Mika’s eyebrows up and her eyes wide again, like she’s never heard it before, either. Maybe she hasn’t. She tilts her head again like a question, touching her ear and looking at Beth.

Beth grins. “Mika.” A smile blooms on that curious face, lighting it up. She’s the one who pulls Beth into a hug this time, and it’s both fierce and soft. When she lets go, she leans into Beth’s side again and they stay like that, arms over shoulders and comfortably curled up together, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence like leaves drink in light. The simple sweetness and companionship of it soothes Beth’s heart, seeking its way into the aching crevices. It’s an odd feeling, both seeping inward and flowing outward, trickling all the way through her until it warms her cold toes in a way that feels both new and strangely familiar.

A long, sleepy yawn announces that Niki’s awake now, too. Soon, she comes out of her room stretching her arms over her head. Mika reaches a hand out toward her to wave in greeting, though she leaves the other arm draped over Beth’s shoulders. Niki smiles at them. That kind smile, too, adds to the warmth washing through Beth. Her feet practically itch with it, and with a growing sensation of déja vu. She fidgets her toes against the floor as Niki walks over to brush Mika’s outstretched hand like a touchstone.

“How'd you sleep? Isn’t that couch the comfiest?” she says to Beth.

“Well, I’ve got a crick in my neck, but I still slept better than I have in years.”

Niki turns her sunny smile on Beth. “Good to hear it. Weird, though, I nap there all the time and my neck’s always fine. Huh. Anyway, I think I might make waffles. You two want some breakfast?”

Mika nods, but doesn’t let go of Beth yet. Beth is lost in thought, trying to remember what that light, floating feeling in her feet reminds her of.

“Sweet.” Niki ambles toward the kitchen and bends down with pursed lips to peer at the fern perched on the counter. “Hmm. You still look a little pale. Let’s get you some more sun.” She brings the plant over to the living room and is fussing over settling it on the sheep table when it clicks for Beth. A physical memory washes over her, for once welcome. She lets it fill her, refreshing like a deep breath of cold morning air her lungs are suddenly hungry for. She flexes her calves and ankles, her legs remembering the joy and freedom of stride and strike. Her bones are finally recalling how they once carried her with ease, even while they're adjusting to the new weight of who she's become. Fully alive again for at least this moment, her soles are practically prickling with the desire to eat up ground.

“How about you, Beth? Do you like waffles?” Niki asks, fluffing the fern’s crinkly green leaves. Mika squeezes her shoulder.

Beth grins and plants steady feet on the blue rug in front of the couch. “Save a few for me? I think I might actually go for a run first.”

#orphan black #clone club #veera suominen #beth childs #niki lintula #mk ob #mika ob #herbs on the windowsill au #lizzie taking up space #lizzie's adventures in writing #welcome back yall #long post #fic #ob fic #that a garden will grow

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cryoculus · 5 years

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i'm back fool may i request headcanon or scenarios for the hq captains (or honestly whoever u wanna add) finding out their fem crush does hardcore parkour as a hobby. At school she wears the cute uniform but after ???? It's bad bitch time. Adidas sweats, the tank top for guys (under armour idk what's it called).

HHHHHere it is

Ushijima

He doesn’t believe it at first when Tendou tells him about it. You were practically Shiratorizawa’s resident goody-two-shoes and because you were his classmate, he knew you to a certain extent. There was simply no way you’d be a closet parkour artist.

Tendou always insisted that Ushijima would come along with him sometime after school so he could show him, but he was simply in denial™ and thought Tendou was being obtuse.

He eventually caved though.

Ushijima didn’t really know where to look when Tendou said, “Here we are,” after bringing him smack in the middle of a busy Sendai intersection. But then he saw it.

A couple of teenagers were jumping buildings like it was nobody’s business – and to his utter disbelief, you were there. There was no trace of the adorable classmate whose charm was unparalleled.

Tendou had to drag him by the arm so they wouldn’t lose track of your group, which was difficult because this six foot bag of meat was probably twice his weight.

Your session ended at a nearby park, doing backflips from memorial statues. Ushijima thought that was a little disrespectful, but he couldn’t put a thought into it because he was gaping at you.

“Tendou-kun, you said you wouldn’t tell!” you whined, hitting the middle blocker in the chest.

“What can I say, Wakatoshi-kun has to know about his crush’s secret identity right?”

“Tendou,” Ushijima cautioned. How could he just rat him out right there?

But you were blushing at Tendou’s proclamation. Your outfit may suggest otherwise, but you were definitely the girl who had put him under your charms.

“Ushijima-kun, you won’t tell, right?”

He nodded. He wouldn’t want anyone else getting to know you this way, anyway.

Oikawa

Outside volleyball, Oikawa was known to be Seijoh’s local playboy. Though he only had one girlfriend, he did have many notable conquests because of his flirtatious nature.

But he seemed to be having trouble trying to woo a certain first year student.

“I heard she was an exhibitionist,” supplied Hanamaki when he asked his friends what they knew about you.

“What kind of exhibitionist though?” Iwaizumi asked.

Matsukawa snickered. “Maybe she’s a gravure model.”

Oikawa punched Mattsun on the shoulder. “Don’t besmirch (Name)-chan in that kind of light! She’s practically a saint.”

You were at the top of your class, the year-level representative, and volunteered for charity. And you were only a first year.

“I dunno, Oikawa,” Makki sighed. “She seems a little too good, don’tcha think? I bet she’s got some weird secret she doesn’t want everyone to know.”

That actually made sense. So, he tried offering to walk you home that day to try and smooth talk some answers out of you, but you politely declined, to his chagrin.

“Sorry, Oikawa-senpai, I’m meeting some friends at the park today,” you explained.

Any normal person would just suck it up and accept it right?

Oikawa was not a normal person.

So, he went to the park that afternoon after school to see what was so important that you denied a walk home from the Oikawa Tooru. But the sight that beheld him nearly made his jaw drop.

You and a couple of older looking boys were climbing up the walls of an abandoned building with the swiftness of felines. Once you reached the top, you all hopped off the roof and landed gracefully on the cobblestone path.

You saw Oikawa hiding behind a lamp post though. He gaped when you approached him with a cheery smile.

“Still like me, senpai?”

He threw his arms around you.

“Duh.”

Sawamura

I personally headcanon Daichi as someone who has some experience with parkour ‘cause of those t h i g h s.

Anyway, he has a huge crush on Kiyoko’s cousin, who’s also a third year in Karasuno. Where Kiyoko was the graceful character, you were a bit more of a girl who was the actual definition of “kawaii-desu~ xD”

And not in a cringey way.

You were so ridiculously adorable, a lot of boys from Karasuno swooned over the sight of you.

But one day, Asahi managed to get him into parkour again.

“Asahi, you know how my stunts were a bunch of failures back then, right?”

Asahi laughed. “We were first years. Surely with all this training, our bodies have better coordination.”

So they contacted the guys they used to do parkour with back then and to their surprise, they began recruiting girls as well.

When the two of them arrived at the meeting place on top of a corporate building in the main district, Daichi nearly choked when he saw you in the small crowd, talking to one of the members.

But before he could tell Asahi about it, the guy overseeing the whole thing pulled them to the side and gave a quick briefing.

“Oh, and for saftey purposes, you’ll be getting a guide,” he smiled before calling out to someone, “(Name), come here would you?”

Asahi shot Daichi a knowing look and, the next thing they knew, you were their temporary coach. But you didn’t really provide them with any useful information besides:

“Don’t weigh me down.”

When the practice exhibition went underway, Asahi was performing fine but Daichi had to put his back into catching up with the rest of the group. His eyes were glued on you, who jumped each and every obstacle with unparalleled grace. Was that really Karasuno’s sweetheart?

Right before the beam exercises, he decided to chat you up and asked how long you’ve been doing parkour.

“None of your business,” you deadpanned.

As you walked away, Asahi nudged him.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Kuroo

Kuroo had pretty high standards, if he did say so himself.

He wasn’t easily enamored by a pretty face unlike a certain brunet setter from Miyagi. But of course, he was still human and could still fall prey to that inevitable force called feelings.

It started when this shy girl transferred into Nekoma at the beginning of his third year. You were his seatmate and he’s convinced that, if you were assigned a different place to sit, he would’ve never interacted with you unless needed.

But since you were given the pleasure to be seated close to his glory, Kuroo decided to befriend you.

You were ridiculously timid and Kuroo was perfectly fine with that, since his own best friend shared the same personality trait. He knew how to handle you without making you feel like he’s overstepping his boundaries.

Whenever he didn’t have practice, he offered to walk you home ‘platonically’ since you lived in the same neighborhood as him and Kenma. But strangely, whenever they dropped you off at home, he’d see you sneaking out of your house to go out.

He thought that maybe you just had somewhere else to be and was too shy to decline his offer to walk you home.

“She’s hiding something,” Kenma flatly concluded.

Amused, Kuroo questioned, “What makes you say so?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who kept telling me she’s basically me. I’m sure I’ll notice when I’m hiding something.”

“Touché.”

So, when Kuroo walked you home the next time without Kenma, since he didn’t want to involve himself in Operation: Find Out What (Name) Does in Her Free Time, he tailed you at an inconspicuous distance.

But then, you had travelled all the way to an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of the city. Were you involved in some criminal activity? Concerned, he decided to step inside.

Someone nearly kicked him in the head from propelling yourself on top of an unused cargo carrier.

“Sorry!” you apologized profusely, helping him back onto his feet. Your entire face was flushed crimson at Kuroo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” he inquired.

“I-I-I uh do p-parkour as a hobby,” you stammered, fidgeting with the hem of your tank top. “Keeps m-my blood circulating.”

“Keeps your blood circulating?” he echoed with a smile. It reminded him of the words he’d tell the team before a volleyball match.

He grinned. “Can you teach me some of your moves?”

Bokuto

He always prattled endlessly about his newfound crush to Akaashi when he met you in the cafeteria one day.

“She accidentally poured piping hot coffee on my uniform, but she was so cute, Akaashi!”

“Bokuto-san, could you please focus on the game? The opponent is at a match point.”

Since he had the attention span of a goldfish, Bokuto would always find his thoughts drifting back to you, someone he barely even saw in the halls of Fukurodani.

Eventually, he got “deprived” of your beauty and decided to hunt you down, asking various friends of his if they knew who you were.

“Ah, (Surname) from Class 1? She rarely comes to school.”

“I heard she was a delinquent.”

“No, her dad’s part of the yakuza!”

“Someone told me she was a spy deployed at our school.”

“I think I saw her on a porn movie once.”

In short, no one really knew your true identity and you didn’t make a lot of friends. The information more or less put Bokuto in a dejected mode like no other, which irked Akaashi very much when his performance dwindled during their practice matches.

So, for the sake of the revival of his captain’s volleyball prowess, Akaashi took it upon himself to do his own investigation regarding a certain (Surname) (Name). When he finally got intel on where you were usually seen, he gave Bokuto the address.

“Really Akaashi? You’re really going to let me see her?” Crocodile tears ran down his cheeks.

“Please, before I change my mind.”

Bokuto did as instructed and headed out to Akihabara Park. He looked around, eyes carefully scanning the area for a familiar face, but then his attention got snagged by a couple of people doing parkour stunts near the multi-level parking lot.

You were scaling the building without any protective gear whatsoever. Your feet disengaged fluidly with each jump you made to reach the bottom. The finishing move was a flawless backflip that Bokuto thought would go awry, but you landed on your feet without fail. One of your companions pat your shoulder for a job well done and you grinned.

But then you locked eyes with Bokuto.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked when you jogged up to him.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted in a trance.

You blinked, attempting to let his spur-of-the-moment confession sink in. “What?”

“I’m. In. Love. With. You.”

An unattractive snort escaped you. “I’m sorry. Bokuto, was it? I only date guys who can keep up with me.”

With that, you went back to your little parkrour group for your next set of stunts, but that’s until Bokuto ran to catch up to you.

“I won’t disappoint you!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu hc #ushijima wakatoshi #oikawa tooru #sawamura daichi #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #hqhc #request #redhotchampion

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fuzed-hostage · 5 years

Text

RainbowSix l Siege

Jäger gets blown the fuck up and lives to recount the incident while he’s lying in bed unconscious.

Rated: G [Mild swearing, it’s actually kinda funny, implied Blitz/Jäger]

Set to the tone of: Ave Maria Inspired by: Two unfortunate bad luck and why me moments in T-Hunt

How did it all come to this? Getting blown up, I mean. Our entry into the building was textbook. The hostage was secure, reinforcements had gone up, and I was quite satisfied with our work. The first couple of gun shots were from Bandit looking down at the dock so I joined him in taking out a few hostiles before they had the chance to set up proper repel lines. That’s when I noticed an unprotected wall next to Rook who had taken my fellow GSG 9′s place. Of course I couldn’t just leave it like that. No, that simply would not do.

I set the heavy metal case as close as I could get it, told Rook to move, and the next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air tone deaf. Time seemed to stop in that moment when the chemical reaction obliterated the wood we’d been standing in front of. Not really sure where the Frenchman went but, when I think about it now, it’s highly unlikely I could have seen him before the force of the blast tossed me like a rag doll.

They told me later that I had more shrapnel in me than Doc has ever seen. I believe them. I want to say each puncture felt like sharp needles raining down on my skin, though I’m not entirely sure. Everything went numb within the blink of an eye go figure. Left behind was a mess of twisted metal, shattered wood paneling, and a really big fucking hole, as Thermite would say.

Back to relearning how to fly, I’d still like to address that. I’ve got both a commercial and private helicopter pilot’s license. There are many more certifications tacked onto those as well. I even went to the trouble of tripling that with a single engine airplane license in the event it might be useful someday. Calculating all of the flight time needed on top of what I’ve acquired since then would bore you to death.

My point is, none of it applies here.

Someone once told me that if “Humans were meant to fly, God would have given them wings”. I disagree with that to a certain degree. Our brains have developed enough to construct the means to achieve flight without evolution’s gifts. As far as biology is concerned, I had no right trying to replicate that with my body. Our bones are too heavy, we carry a lot of fluid, and, on top of that, I had a lot of gear on. Not nearly as much as the GIGN guys, good Lord you can hear them jingle, thud, and thunk from a mile away. Kapkan... not so much. He can be as quiet as the dead when he really wants to be.

Keep the image of me midair, halfway through a back flip, in your mind for a little longer.

We’re set up in the map room and I’m by a couple of windows with a likely very startled, and now injured, Rook. Prior to this unfortunate event, Mira had entered what looked like a break room with a small kitchen. I think it was a kitchen. From there, she disappears from memory along with wherever Bandit ran off to. We had a box of ammunition set down next to the hostage who was seated in front of the main entrance ( a stupid place, I know. I didn’t put him there ) and several desks.

Where I was going was directly backwards towards one of the dividing walls that created a wide entryway into the middle of the room ( where the hostage is ). The place hasn’t been torn apart yet until now. There’s no telling how much of that expensive equipment was destroyed they had hooked up in that cramped space. The map hanging up I was in the process of destroying has been disintegrated. My sorry ass was only the beginning of the once neat and tidy room’s messy demise. Who has to clean all of that up once the mission is over?

Whoever it is, they better not be squeamish.

I apparently was knocked unconscious the moment my head hit the ground. Maybe I lost it prior to that, somewhere in between failing to pull off an impressive stunt and eating shit. Considering I broke a lot of bones and had some internal bleeding, it’s probably good that my daylights had been sufficiently knocked out and stayed that way.

Makes me feel bad that the team was now down a man or two. Someone had done the best they could in keeping me alive before returning to the firefight. No one has told me who yet. Probably won’t.

While I’m kicking myself in the pants for a wild card touch with death, Blitz is cursing himself for not having insisted he go with us. We already had a team of five and he isn’t classified as a defending agent. Try telling him that while he’s got that fancy shield of his. You’ll go blind and have to listen to his shouting. I bet it’s worse if you don’t understand German. I’ll probably get some kind of long-drawn out conversation once I’m alert enough to know what’s left and what’s right.

Blitz is sweet though, I won’t mind. He’s been by my side since they hauled me out of my own helicopter strapped to a stretcher. Doc almost had him restrained because he kept getting in the way. I’ve seen the medic mad a few times, it’s definitely not a good idea to be on the receiving end of his sharply spoken lectures. He knows how to make you shrink back into your shell with a specific look alone. The one like your mother or father would make when you were a kid that said everything you needed to know about how much you’d fucked up.

I still can’t get over how ungracefully I was launched off my feet. My shoes were brand new and made for walking ( running as well ), not an extended and uncontrolled mission into space. At least my ADS wasn’t to blame. The wall had been breached with a flat charge, not blown up by a grenade. Even then, it can’t destroy something that’s on the other side of a closed space that isn’t being tossed in. How many of them had been recovered anyway? Rook is always studious in gathering gadgets if their owners can’t. Unless he was the one carrying me. No, strike that, it likely would have been Kapkan. Rook was also hurt.

There’s going to be a lot to take in when I wake up. Thank you to my team and the medical staff taking care of me right now. I can’t object to not being allowed out of bed early, yet. Eh, I won’t trouble Doc too much this time. Something tells me I’m not going to be able to even if I wanted. Being critically injured kills your drive to be an annoying patient. A bit of down time will not drive me nuts if I can at least have my tablet as entertainment.

Oh, and friends! Friends are nice too.

#rainbow six siege #jager #blitz #rook #kapkan #mira #doc #bandit #fic

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wrestlingisfake · 5 years

Text

On May 23, 1999, I was not watching WWF Over the Edge on pay-per-view. But I was on the internet checking for the results, because I couldn’t wait for Owen Hart to win the WWF intercontinental championship.

This was 20 years ago. I was on dial-up. There was no liveblogging the show as we know it today. (Apparently the word “blog” had just recently been invented.) Instead you would go to a wrestling news site that would post an article about the event and manually update the page now and then. There were no push notifications; you had to manually reload the page yourself, and if nothing happened right away, you’d wonder if you needed to clear your browser cache. I’d done this many times, and I was fine with it. On this occasion, though, I was in a chatroom where one or two people were watching the show. I probably asked about everything that happened, but I was primarily interested in one match: The Godfather vs. The Blue Blazer.

Owen Hart had been in a tag team with Jeff Jarrett, along with Jarrett’s manager Debra. Somewhere in that run, the WWF hit upon the idea of having Owen romantically pursue Debra to cause tension with Jarrett. Owen refused to go for it, so he didn’t feel comfortable rejecting the creative team’s second idea, to bring back his old masked character, The Blue Blazer. There were actually two separate runs with this idea. The first time, Owen “quit” the WWF and denied involvement when "someone” in the Blazer outfit ambushed his enemies. Later, Owen suddenly brought the outfit back acting like he believed he was a superhero. I don’t know if refusing to do the Debra angle prompted the first Blazer storyline or the second. I didn’t know anything about it at the time. I just thought Owen was hilarious wearing a mask and a cape and pretending that you couldn’t tell he was Owen Hart.

Initially the Blue Blazer was just a “clever” disguise to create plausible deniability, but by this point they’d decided to use it to parody white-meat, cartoony, superhero babyface wrestlers. The Blazer talked about taking vitamins like Hulk Hogan. I’m sure there were some Adam West Batman references. Sooner or later he would spoof the gimmick of rappelling to the ring from the rafters like Sting. Every time Sting did it in WCW, it always seemed to take forever for him to unfasten himself from his harness when he reached the ground, killing the momentum of live TV. I used to wonder why they didn’t have some quicker way to get him out of that rig. I used to think the WWF wouldn’t put up with that delay, because they had slicker production that WCW.

It was inevitable that the Blazer would try to go after the babyface characters who were technically awful role models. The Godfather was a wrestling pimp, and had improbably won the intercontinental title, which would normally be above his level. I could see where this was going--the Blazer would be offended by Godfather’s licentiousness, and wrestle him, and end up with the title. If the Blue Blazer had been fun before, he’d be even better with a championship. Moreover, it would reverse the downward trend in Owen’s career, after some big highlights in 1997 petered out in 1998.

So I got on this chatroom and and asked about Owen. Somebody told me the match had been about to start earlier in the show, but there’d been some kind of accident in Owen’s entrance. I didn’t get enough specifics right away. In my head I imagined the Blue Blazer doing some sort of wacky Super Dave Osborne stunt, where they’d make it look like he was hurt to set up a twist in the story later in the night. I may have even wondered if the Blazer would be “hospitalized” so Owen could “take his place” in the title match. The point is, nothing I’d been told suggested this wasn’t a comedy skit, because I wasn’t watching the show.

A little later, my source quoted Jim Ross’s update in the chatroom. I’ll never forget it. They wrote it in all caps for some reason: OWEN HART HAS DIED

It sounded like some overwrought story element. I wanted to believe it was part of the act, that the “Blazer” was in critical condition at the “hospital,” and things had taken a turn for the worse so Owen could play mindgames with the Godfather. I wanted to believe anything that would make it okay. But I knew. If they had come up with some sick story like I’d imagined, they wouldn’t have used the wrestling pimp as the victim of the scam. If it was an angle, they would have announced the Blue Blazer had died, not Owen Hart.

Now I was all over the news sites. Owen was supposed to do a rappelling entrance like Sting. Something went wrong and he fell from the top of the Kemper Arena. This part of the story’s been covered thoroughly, and you don’t need the details from me. I couldn’t believe it. The story wasn’t supposed to end this way.

I didn’t know what to do.

I stayed online and followed coverage of the rest of the show.

Maybe I was just in shock. Maybe I wanted some sort of update. Maybe I hoped against hope that it was all just an angle. Maybe I just wanted to know if the Undertaker was going to win the world title. I don’t know. But I’ve never been able to be too hard on the WWF for continuing with the show, because I can imagine what it’s like to not know how to proceed except to follow the format sheet.

I got wall-to-wall coverage of Owen for at least the next 24 hours. The mainstream news acted like The Blue Blazer was his wrestling name and Owen Hart was his real name, like they were talking about Rey Mysterio and Oscar Gutierrez. The WWF set up an Owen tribute site, with little OH graphics based on the design he wore when he wasn’t the Blazer--a design that had originally been used for Jarrett’s gear, and adapted for their tag team. Bret Hart was supposed to wrestle Kevin Nash on the Tonight Show on May 24, which obviously didn’t happen. People talked like Owen did the rappelling thing all the time, or he was feuding with Sting, or all sorts of simplifications of why the hell he was even up there. I thought, nobody’s going to understand any of this, nobody’s going to remember the nuances of these little details, because none of it matters anymore. But I remember.

Every time the anniversary of Owen’s death comes around, I remember how much I wanted him to play the Blue Blazer, how much I wanted him to wrestle that match, and how lame I thought it was that Sting couldn’t get out of his safety harness. And I think about how he apparently didn’t want to play the Blazer, and how he certainly didn’t want to be up in the rafters, and I just know why properly securing him to the cable wasn’t a priority. And I blame myself.

#wwe #wwf #owen hart

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la-leto · 6 years

Link

Alex Honnold, star of the Oscar-contending doc Free Solo, is perched precariously halfway up an 85-foot wall. The seemingly superhuman climber who scaled a 3,000-foot sheer vertical wall in Yosemite National Park without any safety equipment is wearing a harness and tied into one end of a rope. In the unlikely event that he falls, the man on the other end, Jared Leto, will catch him. The wall arcs up and out at a steep angle — what rock climbers call overhanging — so a climber's body is nearly horizontal to the ground. When it's his turn to ascend the wall, Leto, breathing hard, is undeterred. "Nice, Jared, c'mon dude," Honnold, 33, shouts, doling out lengths of slack in the rope. "Stay with it, I'm with you."

Unlike the many people in Hollywood who have reached out to Honnold since the release of Free Solo, Leto, who fronts the rock band 30 Seconds to Mars and won a best supporting actor Oscar for 2013's Dallas Buyers Club, has been climbing with him since 2015. Leto was working on The Great Wide Open, a series of five short films about national parks and the men and women exploring them, including Honnold. Shortly after they met, the pro climber took Leto up a classic mountain route called Matthes Crest northeast of Yosemite Valley. It was one of Leto's first climbs, and they stayed out into the night. "We were just so psyched," says Honnold. Leto, 47, remembers scrambling along a thin blade of granite toward the summit and nearly falling off. "There was one part where I grabbed on the end of a rope during one really slabby section," he says. Leto continued to climb, and his friendship with Honnold grew. "I'm getting my ass kicked," the actor says, "which is great."

Leto makes a stealth appearance in Free Solo. Early on, filmmaker Jimmy Chin's camera lingers on an unidentified man's back as a disembodied voice (both belonging to Leto) asks Honnold if he would ever consider free-soloing the 3,000-foot granite monolith that is El Capitan, the mecca of the rock-climbing world. Honnold, of course, goes on to do just that, his ascent of El Capitan's Freerider route without ropes or harnesses ranking as a nearly unparalleled feat of physical achievement. On Feb. 24, the National Geographic-sponsored team that captured the epic journey on film, including Chin and his co-director and wife, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, might be going home with an Oscar statuette.

Free Solo has brought a slew of opportunities to Honnold. "It's like a snowball going downhill," he says. "And the film hasn't even hit streaming yet." In November, Honnold struck a multiyear brand ambassador partnership with car company Rivian, which considers Honnold a "superuser" because he lived in a van for so long. Rivian, which markets itself as the manufacturer of the "world's first Electric Adventure Vehicles," consults with Honnold on design. On Oscar night, Honnold is expected to show up in a Rivian R1T All-Electric pickup truck — and sport a custom-made tuxedo that The North Face is having made just for the occasion. (Honnold still uses the van that appeared in Free Solo for overnight climbing trips with his girlfriend, Sanni McCandless.) He has another ambassadorship deal with Beyond Meat, a company that makes plant-based products that resemble meat. He also has shares in the company, which could yield dividends when it stages its IPO soon. His nonprofit, The Honnold Foundation, which works on solar energy and aid projects for impoverished communities in the U.S. and abroad, has seen an uptick in attention and partnerships as well.

Black Diamond and Maxim sponsor his climbing gear. A company called Stride provides him with health insurance. Italian climbing company La Sportiva offers shoes, and Utah-based Goal Zero works with him to market solar chargers for phones. He gets paid handsomely to speak to investors and corporations, often repurposing a Ted Talk he gave last year about "mastery." He'll soon become part-owner of a national chain of climbing gyms, a speculative bid on an expected uptick of interest in rock climbing. Though he's avoided the big-time exposure that comes with big-time sports brands, Honnold will almost certainly make seven figures this year and next. Says his manager at RXR Sports, Jonathan Retseck, "For rock climbing, that's pretty good."

***

One recent morning, before Leto arrived at the Sender One climbing gym in South L.A., Honnold reflected on this new phase as a half-dozen people snuck by to snap pictures of him. Hollywood, too, has shown intense interest: Honnold was game when Edward Norton's agent got in touch about the two going climbing. (They haven't yet.) He met Brie Larson, who also has climbed and was training for Captain Marvel, at an Antonio Banderas screening. "I loved Zorro as a kid, and [Banderas] was talking about one of the scenes where he was climbing on a beam and forgot to clip in, and he was like, 'It's like free soloing,' " recalls Honnold. "It was pretty classic!"

It may come as no surprise that the man who scaled El Cap without ropes is unfazed by the pressures of Hollywood. At the climbing gym, as Honnold completes a difficult boulder problem — just slightly harder than the famous karate-kick move shown in Free Solo— he says, "I don't think any of it is that surprising if you think about it rationally. The scheduled time, the interviews, the publicists, being handled and stuff — it doesn't feel like a healthy lifestyle, but that's fine."

Of the awards-season rush, "It's obviously not how I would choose to spend my life," he says, "and the idea that freakin' actors do this for their whole careers blows my mind because it's not that fun, you know? It's really cool to meet these people that you've been inspired by, but you don't actually hang out. It's not quality time." Leto, who walks into the gym wearing a Grateful Dead shirt and black pants, adds that he lent him a tux for the Producers Guild Awards. "He could barely move in the thing, and the shoes I think were probably too small as well," notes Leto.

Since their first meeting in Yosemite, Honnold and Leto have climbed in Colorado, Nevada and in other places in California. "For the amount of time he's been doing it, he's actually phenomenal," Chin says, bestowing on the Oscar winner an even greater honor: "He's a climber."

Later, Leto, who has put on 10 pounds since playing Dallas Buyers Club's transgender drug addict, shares that the physical change is part of preparation for his role as the archvillain in Morbius, the Marvel spinoff about the vampiric character. "The world's most fearsome predator," Leto quips. Warming up on a few moderately easy routes that snake up alongside Sender One's imposing overhang, Leto adds that he hopes to pack on 10 more pounds: "It's great because I go from being very sick and very infirm to being strong and monstrous" in the movie. The friends have climbed at indoor gyms whenever the Las Vegas-based pro climber has been in town to promote Free Solo, and Honnold has been careful not to push Leto too far out of respect for his actorly obligations. "Jared's climbing is not the most important thing for him, obviously," he says, adding: "I think it would be cool to do stunts — I want to wind up as Tom Cruise's stunt double, to do climbing in a movie. Don't you think that'd be fun?" One of his early climbing heroes, a well-known Yosemite legend named Ron Kauk, climbed for Sylvester Stallone in Cliffhanger and for Cruise in Mission: Impossible II.

Understandably, most people still want to talk about Honnold's ascent of Freerider, even though his climbing career has moved on in some ways, including a record speed ascent of another route on El Cap and an expedition to Antarctica. "But then I spend all day, every day, talking about the Freerider climb, so in some ways I haven't moved past it at all," he says. "It's the first time in my life I've had that kind of weird disconnect between what I'm working on versus what I'm talking about."

He hadn't climbed outside in more than a month, and yet now, as he moves from bouldering to a few rounds on the hang bar to the overhanging wall, he seems content. "I feel surprisingly strong for the fact that I live in hotels now," he says. Honnold and a friend have been toying with the idea of attempting a route somewhere on the Trango Towers, a massif of 20,000-feet-high granite peaks in northern Pakistan that has attracted top climbers for years. "I just want to get to the top of some of the most striking towers in the world," he says. "Honestly though, we'll see if it even happens because of scheduling."

In other ways, Honnold's life post-Free Solohas mellowed. He's happily ensconced with McCandless at the Vegas home they purchased during filming of the movie. They climb together often. Co-director Vasarhelyi points out that Honnold has successfully managed to scale this emotional challenge. "They found love," she says. "It's a Shakespearean story, the little engine that could." Honnold says the emotional drama of the documentary belies a more serene domesticity that he thoroughly enjoys. "You only see a few minutes onscreen, so it doesn't show that you're living together in harmony," he says. "It only shows the moments of tension around this big challenge." Still, it seems evident that conquering the solo climb has freed up something deeper in Honnold. Whereas in the movie Honnold was demonstrably uncomfortable when hugging his friend Tommy Caldwell's kids, now he struts around the gym proudly holding Chin and Chai Vasarhelyi's daughter, Marina, in his arms. They call him "Uncle Alex."

Later, as he belays Leto, who scrambles up another route, a friend stops by to chat. Honnold asks about the friend's romantic relationship. "It's casual," the friend says. "Is it consistent?" Honnold asks, and the friend nods. Honnold thinks on this for half a second. "Consistently casual is still consistent," Honnold says, smiling. "After three great years with Sanni, I feel qualified to give relationship advice." He says he wants a family and kids of his own one day. "Are you going to let them climb?" the friend asks. Honnold doesn't hesitate. "I'm sure my kids will grow up underneath the moonboard in my home." For someone who has explored the most extreme corners of what's physically and psychologically possible, Honnold seems keen to resume a life of normal pleasures. "As soon as the Oscars are over, he's going to be itching to get in a van with Sanni and go on a climbing trip and life as usual," says Retseck. Leto reaches the top of the wall. Honnold brings him down, they laugh, and move on to the next route.

#jared leto #alex honnold #free solo #bffs #interviews #morbius

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what-the-crit-is-going-on · 6 years

Text

Episode 23

After taking a rest in the swamp they trudge on and decide they want the 100 gold they paid Fabron back and look for the tree hollow they believe the troll to be living in.

Caleb points them in the right direction, thanks to his impeccable memory, and they reach the shoreline of the lake where Caleb spots movement in the vines andanages to stop Fjord from stepping into them. The movement was from the cluster of vines themselves pulling across the marshy floor.

Curious as to what these vines are, the Nein gather around and Molly throws a jerky covered ball bearing into the vines. They immediately latch onto it and the thorns on the plant rip and tear into the jerky, constricting the bearing before dropping it, clean of meat, and moving slowly towards the group.

They decide against a fight and briskly walk away from the plant as it struggles to keep pace and gives up on the chase.

Fjord and Caleb lead the group in a circle for 2 hours after they don't quite pay attention to where they're going but they get back on track and eventually gear the familiar bone chimes of the tree hollow.

Their plan is to have Nott sneak up with the last stick of dynamite and blow up the hollow if she sees the troll inside. She manages to make it to the entrance where she sees the troll inside eating (most likely Fabron). She readies the dynamite and....is unable to light it as she doesn't have a match.

She climbs down and quietly runs back to the group so Yasha can light it and the goblin girl magehands it back to the tree hollow where she tosses it in.

The explosion blows the hollow to smithereens but only seems to act as a concussive blast to the troll dealing little damage but knocking it out of the tree and onto it's back.

Caleb let's loose some firebolts and notices that the fire seems to stunt it's regeneration for some time. The others fire off their ranged attacks (save for Yasha since she has none) and the troll lifts itself up and heads over to Beau and Yasha, slashing it's own bulbous stomach open to spray acid at the two from a distance, poisoning Yasha.

Fjord casts witch bolt, dealing some hefty damage but also gaining it's attention as it heads for Fjord, ignoring Molly as he swipes at it with his scimitar.

The troll bites at Fjord and cuts into him with both clawed hands. Caleb casts slow and Nott fires a bolt at it's side. The bolt hits but pops a blister of acid on Fjord, causing him to lose consciousness briefly before his reckless endurance snaps him out of it.

It doesn't last long though when Mollymauk flanks it and ruthlessly stabs through his back finally killing the troll but also splashing more acid on Fjord, really knocking him out this time.

Molly cures Fjord's poison as the eye of his snake tattoo bursts and he seems to telekinetically pull the venom from his body and let's it splash onto the ground. Jester follows up with a swift healing spell to get him back on his feet.

Unfortunately no one checked the troll quick enough as it regenerates and rises up to strike Fjord unconscious once again, thanks to Caleb's slow spell that's all he can do for now. Everyone holds their attack while they wait for Beau and Yasha to pull Fjord out of the "Splash Zone". Once cleared, Caleb uses his glove of scorching to incinerate the troll and burn his head off.

Of course seeing this creature burned alive puts Caleb I'm a state and he shuts down. Fjord is healed again and Beau takes Caleb away from the group and the fiery corpse to calm him down and snap him out of his episode.

The others search the remains of the hollow and the troll, once he's no longer on fire, and find 26 gold, 10 silver, and 50 copper. Jester also uses her handaxe to cut out the troll's heart. Perhaps if they hadn't blown the hollow to shit they could've found their 100 gold.

They take a short rest and head back to Barrelben by nightfall. Jester casts message to the Gentleman to alert him that the safehouse is clear and that Fabron is dead.

Upon reaching the gates, a cloaked figure approaches and takes down the hood to reveal Horace, alive and well, and a bit dirtier. He asks of the state of Zadash and Dolan, whether he can return yet and where he's staying now (which the Nein find out is nicer than the inn they're staying at). He also points them in the direction of the apothecary to sell the troll heart.

The apothecary is closed but he allows them in when Jester claims to have a troll heart. The clerk makes an offer of a moderately strong healing potion and something "unique" at Molly's request but that they have to return tomorrow when the shop is open to see what he makes.

They make their way to the Drowned Nest Inn, where Horace recommended, and buy four rooms and a round of liquor, while lightly accosting the barmaid about the book she's reading and her flirting with Fjord.

They put Kiri to bed and get a table to discuss tomorrow's plan. Not much discussion goes on however as various members of the Nein attempt to find out the book she's reading. Nott tries to steal it first, the Caleb just tried to make friendly conversation about it, and once Yasha see them fail she tries to intimidate it out of her by claiming she will not leave until she knows. The woman is not very shaken and scolds the barbarian for having lackluster manners and being unpleasant. Yasha returns to the table muttering about missing reading books.

They eventually decide to turn in for the night and go to their separate rooms, Molly being the last to go as he places two gold on the counter for the barkeep and tells her it's hers either way but if she tells him the title of the book he won't tell the others. She slowly pockets the gold and quietly tells him the book is called Feathers and Leather. True to his word he doesn't tell anyone.

Fjord confides in Molly about his sword and how it's changed, he doesn't know what the deal is with it but he doesn't quite trust it. Fjord focuses on the sword and gets the feeling someone is watching him all the time from every direction. Molly gets the feeling that the eye in the hilt is something that is beyond the land and sea even, not recognizing it as any religious symbols or godly artifact. With a failed charm person attempt and Fjord declining to let Molly hold the falchion they turn in.

In the morning the team splits up, Fjord and Yasha go for the stables, while Caleb and Nott go for a walk with Kiri, and Jester, Molly, and Beau go to the apothecary to trade the troll heart.

Beau asks what to do about Kiri as it's too dangerous to keep her on the team with them and the three decide to discuss it later with the rest of the group. At the apothecary they trade the heart for a large healing potion and some other "interesting" potion that even the brewer is unaware of what it does. He claims it protects against something but he isn't sure what. When he places it on the counter the potion seems to spark. On top of that he pays 50 gold.

Caleb is looking for a stone with a ring around it on their walk for unknown reasons and finds one. Nott gives him the invisibility scroll and apologizes for getting him in trouble with Beau after stealing the bowl and giving it to him instead of Cali. Caleb accepts the apology and the scroll with gratitude. He also mentions that he thinks Beau is a good egg and she was just being herself with no I'll intentions that night.

Nott thanks Caleb for always saying she can confide in him and tells him the halfling man's name she set free was Yessa, and they continue on their walk.

Jester changes the Fungal Font sign with her paints to Fungal Fart and they meet back up again with the others and the carts.

Kiri shares the secrets Caleb and Nott just talked about (how Beau is probably a good egg and Yessa).

They discuss whether to go through Rexxentrom or Hupperduke to get to Shady Creek and after claims of Hupperduke being a crazy party town at night by Beau they agree to head there.

The first day of travel goes well and the night passes with no incident, as does the second.

On the third day of travel they reach the crossroads where some tents and carts are up. Merchants appear to have set up here on their journeys. Beau buys a bone bracelet and Nott buys warmer clothes for the trek north. Molly gets his hands on 5 two person tents and a canvas to make a covered cart and the Nein push on.

That night Beau and Yasha watch and it's another terrible attempt at flirting but aside from that there is no incidents.

On the fourth night Caleb and Nott take watch when Caleb sees a strange shape in the grass. Nott investigates it and sees it's an overturned cart. Of course both her and Caleb recognize this to be an ambush attempt so Nott uses a silent image to draw out the attackers. Sure enough a crossbow bolt sticks into the side of the cart and caleb, seeing this through Frumpkin, wakes everyone.

The team stealthily approaches and Nott, having already been seen, takes a few crossbow bolts to the side. They see 5 figures in the grass, one of which, after the others join Nott, yells to stop fighting.

Beau flanks one of them and stunning strikes him, gently moving him to the ground to knock him unconscious.

The bandit who yelled out apologizes and tells his gang that the Nein are the ones who disintegrated their old leader. Hearing this they stand down and let the Nein approach the cart.

Molly feels bad for how terrible they are at being bandits and gives them the leather armor h bought from the orc outside of Zadash.

Caleb puts the stone on the leaders forehead and tells him he can now find him anywhere and to find a different job or he will kill him. Of course Caleb is bluffing but his intimidation is enough to make the bandit piss his pants and change his ways.

Beau takes the pants and 7 silver of the knocked out bandit as his group runs off in fear without him.

The next two days go with no issue and the Nein finally reach the mountain side city of Hupperduke.

The guards point them to Blushing Tankard Tavern for lodging, up the mountain shelf as the bottom part is for industry. The Nein are denied access to the elevator as it's only for guests of certain members of the town and they see it started up with a shot from a peculiar firearm.

A female gnome named Risa approaches as they trek up the path to the mountain shelf and offers to show them around.

She tells them things are boring during the day with nothing but work for 10 to 12 hours a day but at night it gets wild.

Sunset comes and fireworks pop off as the laborers below shout in joy at the end of the work day. Already the upper shelf comes to life with people ready to relax and party after a long days work.

Beau wasn't lying about this town working hard and playing hard.

#cr #critical role #beau #caleb #fjord #jester #mollymauk #nott #critical role spoilers #beauregard #yasha #kiri #c2e23

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