#also Asty what you making that sound for

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Ah yes my fav kiss, the one where they kiss air and Astarion whimpers a little

Using the tadpole connection to kiss I guess and it made him flustered lmao

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you a 'twoshot' out of the oneshot where Maya and Reader get into a fight and Reader runs off? Please please please I love the big sympathic and genius brain of yours ❤️

A/n: This is not proof read whatsoever because I am really exhausted of the week. Also it is a bit longer then expected because I got carried away. I still hope you like it ♥

---

In the rage you were about to sink into, you thoughtlessly headed for an old bar where you´d often spent your time when you needed to blow off steam for whatever reason. This, was on the outskirts of Seattle, on a connecting road to the next town; a perfect and quiet place where no one would try to look for you.

Unlike other places of this type, it was extremely quiet in this place.

Silence affected people differently; some loved it and others felt uncomfortable or even afraid of it. But you enjoyed the absence of annoying everyday noises and the kindling of silence, tranquility and peace.

While you sat at the bar and waited for your beer, you let the impressions of this place work on you. All the images, the soft sounds of the old music box and the sensations. Everything that people left behind had accumulated on the walls over the years. People may not have realized how much of themselves they leave in placed they visit- sadness, joy, pain, anger, fear, insecurity.. All this was buried deep in the walls, decorated and covered with dull light.

And you, too, did your share of these emotions today.

"Is the seat next to you still free?" a bit frightened, you turned your head to the female voice and your eyes immediately catch blue eyes which nevertheless shone like ice water in the stuffy and smoky air. "Yes, of course. Have a seat."

Filled with initially growing uncertainty, she perched on the stool beside you and as soon as she found a reasonably comfortable position, waved to a bartender. Besides you, she was the only female along all the men in this bar. "What can I get you?"

"An Asti Pink for me and a whiskey for the lady here." She winked at you, a smile lit the pretty face as she casually rested her elbows on the bar and stroked her shoulder-length, black curls. The black tank top, that she was wearing, riding up thereby revealing a black spot on her side; about a level with her hip bone. Just visible enough to make you curious.

It appeared to be writing, but you could not make it out in the darkened atmosphere. Before you had a chance to inspect it further, she turned back to you, sliding over the drink she ordered you earlier and you looked up, caught, letting the blood thaw and flush in your cheeks. Her lips formed into a wide smile. "Like what you see?"

You swallowed hard and fled your gaze in another direction; one of your hands digging behind your neck while your other hand reached out for the cool crystal glass that held your drink. "Thank you, but I don´t usually drink.."

"Honey, by the looks of you, you´ve had a rough day. And if you´ve had a hard day, you have to drink something hard too." she interrupted you and you just nodded, pouring the first sip into your body.

---

It was already after midnight when Carina and Maya were still awake, trying to determine your whereabouts. Silently, they were across from each other; Carina sitting at the dining table, playing around on their cell phone, texting and calling any of your friends and family asking if you´d came to their place.

But everyone denied it, even Andy, who they were hundred percent sure you would show up there sooner or later. "Thank you, Andy. Please call us and let us know if you hear anything from her."

"Nothing?" asked the blonde with trembling hands as the brunette angrily threw her phone on the wooden table. She was nervous, sick with fear and worry.

Restless, she walked in small circles between the kitchen and living room. She knew that you were a grown woman who could take care of herself but as a Captain of the fire brigade, she knew about the sick world out there and that it could get extremely dangerous.

"She´s not with Vic, not with Andy. She´s not with the boys and neither with the girls at Grey Sloan. Nobody saw her!" Carina shook her head grumpily and did not dare to look at her girlfriend, still deeply angry about the blonde´s behavior. "Why can´t you at least think one time before you act?"

Carina sighed as she sat desperately in the dark, only a small light from the lantern in front of the apartment encased the room, pinching the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger, feeling the stabbing pulse of her headache behind her eyes.

The Italian was waiting for your return, stroking her curls thoughtfully, not sure where else to look for you; there were no sign of your whereabouts. No one had heard from you and the worst thoughts were rattling in her head. "Do we call the police?"

"There is nothing they can do, babe. She is old enough and gone less than 24 hours. They would not even file a missing persons report."

"So we just sit here and do nothing, hoping she shows up again?" the brunette yelled desperately, completely frustrated and tired only to get a nod in return. She began to nervously fiddling with the clasp of her watch.

"Sei serio? Sembra fantastico." (Are you serious? Great!)

---

You were pulled onto the small dance floor by Cassy, your new acquaintance, and giggled as she showed off her drunken, nonexistent dancing skills. Soft music that didn´t invited to dance hummed through the pub, the lights were dimmed and embellished with a few LED´s, and at the bar the same bartender was still mixing drinks as desired.

"Come on, pretty woman. Swing your body and dance with me" she said loudly and a charming smile touched her lips which curled around the straw of her cocktail. You scrutinized her, her black hair falling in her face as she fixed you with her brown eyes.

Cassy came back to you, a grin curling her lips as she danced around you, sliding her index finger tenderly over your shoulder as she leaned towards you from behind, whispering in your ear. "C´mon, Y/n. Let´s have fun" she pronounces your name like it´s something special and even though you did not know her, you were attracted to her; so familiar and yet a total stranger.

A shiver run through you; her hot breath on your ear giving you goosebumps. She pulls you closer by the hips and aims to provocatively rotate her hips on your back. You absorb every shift as she moves gracefully to the music. Her hip swing must be from another planet; so erotic, so secy and just plain inciting.

The black-haired had turned you around skillfully, her front pressing against yours. Again, she let her hands wander; over your shoulders, down your waist to your hips and bridges the last gap between you. She stretched out her hand to your face; her thumb gliding delicately over your cheeks while her eyes seemed to study your face.

Cassy´s face was approaching an immoral level and you tensed up as your thoughts led you to what you were about to do; suddenly remembering your two wives, who were probably sitting at home sick with worry, hoping for your return. You were a faithful soul, you would not allow yourself to make such a huge mistake to cheat on them; for the three of you it was clear from the start that the first misstep would lead to separation.

And you did not want to risk that. You loved Maya and Carina too much, even more than yourself, to hurt them that badly just because of a little accident from the firefighter, who took her bad temper out on you. "Cassie.. we should not be doing this."

"For what reason? You´re young, have some fun." she whispered, taking another sip of her drink while placing her free hand on your hip; her face moving to the crook of your neck to place soft kisses on your tensed skin. You shook your head and pushed her slightly away from you to meet her eyes. "I have a wife at home.. two to be honest. And I am happy with them."

The black-haired looked at you in dismay, her eyes wide and her pupils dilated from all the alcohol coursing through her blood. "If you´re so happy, why did you end up here on your own?"

Silence reigned on your side. Even though you knew that exact answer to that question, you were not able to answer it; no words passed through your lips. You stare at her briefly, barely able to take your eyes off her as you want to leave without saying goodbye. But she grabs your arms and you turn back to her. "Here, in case you change your mind."

You stared at the napkin she held out to you, probably stuck in her pocket for a few hours, with her number on it. Hesitantly, you too the piece of paper with you, stowed it in one of your jacket pockets, which was placed over your arm and disappeared from the bar.

You just wanted to go home, back to your wives.

---

Maya stood at the open window of their shared apartment and breathed the cold air of the night deep into her lungs. Darkness enveloped all of Seattle and the only light that wrapped the room was the faint glow of the street laps. Only a few cars were on the road and they drove carefully on the narrow streets. There was hardly a person to be seen at the roadside.

Lost in her deepest thoughts, she ignored the creaking of the lock on the front door and your figured fitted across the hall. You were unsure whether what you were doing her was right and whether you were still welcomed at all.

You had no idea what time it was, but what you did know was that you were wet to the bone, freezing and shaking non-stop. On top of that, your head started pounding and you felt like shit.

"She´s finally back" the brown-haired reported and jumped up from her seat. She walked out of the living room and saw you standing in front of her, completely soaked. "Y/n, we were so worried" she whispered happily and hugged you tightly.

Astonished, the blonde looked at the young woman in front of her and you lowered your head so as not to have to meet her eyes. Maya almost whispered a soft ´hi´ and your face showed absolute surprise at her gentle manner, your point of view pulling up and meeting hers. Unsure, the blonde looked at you and for a split second the world seemed to stand still, blue and your eyes tied an invisible bond.

"Are you okay?" Carina´s hand went to your chin, forcing you to look at her. All you could see in her soft, brown eyes was pain, fear, anger and desperation. Wordlessly, you took her hand and entangled your fingers with hers. "Where have you been, bella?"

"I was in a bar and I met someone.." You started to whisper, having a hard time saying the words out loud because they amounted to nothing but the truth. You pulled the wet paper out of your jacket pocket, on which the writing was almost impossible to read. You held it between your fingers for a few seconds, bit your lip and exhaled deeply, replaying the experience of the past hours in your mind. "There was a woman. We drank, we danced.. This is her number"

You looked back at the blonde who had not moved an inch from her place in the living room. You could not tell what she was thinking and how she was feeling at that moment. Only that her eyes started to glitter in the dull light and her chin started to twitch with nervousness. "Do you..?"

"Kissed her? Made out with her? Slept with her?" your question was addressed to Maya, who dared to quietly ask the question that was burning in her heart. "No. I could not, never would. I love you both too much to hurt you like that."

Maya´s tearful eyes closed automatically of relief.

She bridged the last centimeters between you. Her lips were warm and soft and when they touched yours, it was like a horde of butterflies were flying around your stomach, making your anger at her go away instantly. The blonde was so worried about you and just needed this closeness now, had placed her hands on your neck and pulled you even closer.

"I am sorry. I should have asked how you are and should not have taken my mood out on you. God, I should not have used your past to hurt you." Maya´s hands fell on your hips, gently pressing her fingers into your sides. Carina, who quietly stood aside so that you could talk, moved onto your spine and drew circles on it, letting you shuddering under her touch. "But please, promise us to never do this again. Please do not just leave without any way to get in contact to you, not knowing where you are"

A small grin was unavoidable and you laid your head on her chest, letting Maya resting her head in the crook of your neck. Soft kisses covered the thin skin of yours and made your eyes droop. "I promise"

[devil-in-the-details-ay]

18

Chapter 17

The conversation continues...and a revelation happens..

“Which is?” Astaroth queried with a touch of hesitancy in his voice, wondering what his wife had in store for him now.  A zoo’s worth of animals on the island? Another island paradise to hideaway in? A mountain one this time?  A baby?  Primus Sator forbid!

Taking a deep breath, since she felt kind of foolish for asking, but that seemed on par for the course of the evening, “Could we try a first date again? Maybe just the two of us? You know, since I ruined this one.” Yara looked away from him, trying to keep the tears from building in her eyes.  The thought of how to ask, or even how to plan it on her own, had been what was keeping her awake.  She wanted to have a romantic time with her husband.  She wanted to show him she wasn’t a lost cause.

If Yara had been trying to hide how nervous she was to ask that question, she failed spectacularly.  Astaroth was impressed she wasn’t physically trembling in his arms when she asked though, as bad as her voice shook and cracked.  That was tempered with pride in her for being able to actually get it out instead of hiding her thoughts like she had a habit of doing. Her looking away didn’t bother him, he’d rather her look away and be able to speak her mind than them keep tripping over one another.

Gently, he used two fingers to tip her chin so that she was once more looking at him in the very low light.  “Do you mind if I change it a little?  Make it so we both have a better time and are more relaxed?”  His fingers gently caressed the edges of her face as he looked at her adoringly.  There were mistakes that he had made that he didn’t intend on making again. He was learning he rather enjoyed having his wife in his arms, and the sound of his name rolling of her tongue. “Whatever you want, but I just…” Yara paused as she nodded, she honestly didn’t care.  It could be a completely different type of night, she just wanted a second chance.  He already meant something to her, and was beginning to mean a whole lot more, she didn’t want to drive him away or to actually look at someone else longingly because she was an emotional mess.  The thought of that was killing her, even with his promise that it would be just the two of them.  “I just want a special time for us, and not to ruin it this time.”  Her head pressed firmly against his chest, her eyes closing.

He tsked her, shaking his head slightly, before kissing her forehead.  “You did not ruin it, Papilio.  You learned that you are cared for, and will never be abandoned or rejected.”  He held her tighter and sighed.  “Life is not an all or nothing, with me, not for you.  We will learn one another, and things will get easier.”  Another kiss was placed on her forehead, as he tried to figure out how to better comfort her, and also wondered why it was that her upset troubled him so deeply.  This whole relationship was a new experience.

“Dinner was amazing, but you know that the rest was not what you had envisioned, or what we could have had.”  There was an undercurrent of sadness and remorse to her voice that displeased him. There was no reason for it.  Yes, she had misunderstood the situation, but she had not done anything to purposely ruin the night. Her sitting there silently was the exact opposite of how he would have expected her to react to seeing someone flirt with him, and assuming he was receptive.

“True, but such is life.  So, we shall have a second date.  I do want to keep my wife happy. I wouldn’t want her eyes or heart to wander to someone else.  After all, she is becoming very important to me.” The seriousness of the conversation gave way to a slight tease in his voice. 

“Asti….” She scoffed and lightly thumped his chest with her hand, looking up at him like he’d just told her that Lucifer was a fluffy bunny. Still, she had not missed his last statement, and it hit her deep.

“I do love it when you say my name….” That wasn't a lie, which the deepening of his voice and the darkening of his eyes gave credence to. There were even times he wished she said it more.  He had to be losing his sanity, but for the moment he didn't care.

“Astaroth…” Yara’s voice lowered and became husky, his name becoming an almost purr that reverberated against his neck before she placed a soft kiss there.  To find out that she had an effect on him emboldened her, and gave her a newfound sense of satisfaction.  The woman at the bar might have been more seductive than she was, but it was clear that she hadn’t affected Astaroth.  If Yara was able to with just his name, well that was definitely a bonus in her favor.  

“Keep doing that and I might keep you in bed all day tomorrow, Papillio.”  His own voice lowered as well, his wife's seduction working fully on him. Even tired after an emotional evening, he would not refuse her.  Not with the new feelings taking root in his heart, and how enjoyable their first encounter was.

“Is that a threat or a promise, love?”

“Both.” Astaroth kissed her lightly, enjoying the tease and seduction of the moment. Fingers sinking into her dark locks, he pulled her closer for a deeper kiss before pulling back to look into her eyes.

“Te amo, Astaroth Anthas, Mortem meam.” (I love you, Astaroth Anthas, my Death.) Yara slipped into Latin as easily as she breathed. For some reason, saying the words in that, instead of Demontongue, was easier. The admission that she had already fallen in love with him, since the moment he had learned all about her past, yet had not pushed her away like the others, terrified her. She had handed him the instrument of her own destruction. 

For a full beat, Astaroth was convinced he'd translated what she'd said wrong in his head.  There was not a possibility that she could feel the same for him. He knew her doubts and fears, her insecurities; but he also knew that after their conversation earlier, she would not say such things lightly or in jest.  His belief, once more, that the Fates were involved in whatever was transpiring, seemed confirmed. 

Yara had felt like she couldn't breathe, maybe her heart didn’t even beat, while she waited for him to say something.  Once she had said it, it was too late to take it back and the expected rejection was causing her to want to run from the bed and the room. Even though she knew he would not be cruel or mean, that almost made it worse. He would be kind in his denial of mutuality.

The last thing Astaroth was going to do was leave Yara wondering his reaction to her admission.  Rolling over so she now was the one on her back, and he was looking down into her soulful eyes that he adored, he gave her his answer. “Te amo, Yara Anthas, amica mea papilio et amator animae meae.” (I love you, Yara Anthas, my darling butterfly and lover of my soul.)

Her eyes searched his for any sign that he was just placating her, her heart trying to escape her rib cage as it thundered inside. If he had not been so close, his eyes capturing hers with their intensity, she would have sworn she hallucinated those words, those words that no one had said to her before in her life; and they came from the only man that would ever matter to her for the rest of her life,

Astaroth truly loved her. Her, the daughter that no one wanted. Death loved. In some way it was poetic, but in every way it was perfect. As they came together once more, sealing their bond and their love, both felt whole for the first time in their existence; like they had truly found the part that was missing.

*****

On Olympus, Clotho sat back from the pool and looked over to Atropos with a smirk. Both Fates had worked hard for this day, this hour, this minute. More was coming, some dark, some light, and a lot bloody. Lachesis came with the wine and goblets and they looked over at the twelve tapestries with threats binding them. It was coming together. Soon the Primus Sator would summon them, and it would begin....

banner: @cafekitsune

[mandi-cakes]

In sharing more of my bg3 Tavs, let's start with my Dark Urge, Loth-sworn drow, Faeryl T'sarran... At level 1: Rogue Assassin

And funny little rant... It's the night of the tiefling party. I finally get the 'cheeky little pup' line from Astarion. However However However Fae speaks to Lae'zel just before ending the night for the tryst in the woods, and she apparently low-key gets chuffed (imo) that my drow didn't acknowledge her githyanki 'you're a badass, please fuck me' energy. So, she talks about how she might share Astarion's bed after the party (cuz my drow 'failed' to seduce the mighty gith). And I'm like, bitch, not if I get there first... A few cheeky/sassy/flirty lines later, Fae bags the Twink™️. He and Faeryl meet in the woods. Shmexy times happen. Next morning, come to find out...Lae'zel did indeed seek out Astarion... This makes me think that he sought her out first, then met up with Fae... Um, how dare?! Outside the game I understand the meaning behind the 'you seemed distant during', however my drow would take it differently in the moment. So. Astarion... YOU DARE GIVE THIS DROW, FAERYL T'SARRAN, 'BETTER THAN THE REST, FUTURE RULER OF ALL', YOUR SLOPPY SECONDS?!

A silly narrative moment with Fae. (I'm sure I have screencaps of Fae's seggsual escapades but atm I can't get to them) To be clear, Fae is not a full-on evil Dark Urge, but not good either. Absolute bastard, if you will.

At one point they do a whoopsie, by having...accidentally...made a Cleric/Path of the Ancients Paladin Shadowheart break her oath by participating in what I guess counts as murder... hehe, good times, good times... After reaching Baldur's Gate, and in retrieving Minsc... Heh, I never realized you can just be granted a temporary bank pass, provided you talk to the available bank teller first and pass the appropriate checks...versus being invisible and sneaky the instant you walk in... Faeryl: -sees that teller is nervous- "Hey pal, you seem agitated... " Teller: "This big guy came in earlier with the boss, seemed kinda weird to me." Faeryl: -100% that rogue- "Hmmm, sounds like a security issue. I'm a bit of a security expert myself, you should let me inspect that..." Teller: "That doesn't sound sus at all. Here's a temporary bank pass, just don't mention my name." Faeryl: "Thank you, friend. You're not at all a terrible judge of character!" -proceeds to rob the place blind-

What a gremlin. By level 11, they becomes a Rogue Assassin/Eldritch Knight Fighter Vampire--after long establishing a romance with Astarion, and helping him ascend.

So dastardly. I'm very proud of how not a good person they are, lol. They are also quite miffed that everyone is only focusing on how Astarion is now a true vampire, but paying no attention to how they're a vamp too. This is discrimination against Drows.

By the end of this run, Faeryl is planted firmly at Vampire Lord Astarion's side, ready to rule Baldur's Gate, and one day, the world--they are also more than happy to fulfill Asty's dark deeds and wants, so long as he's happy to fulfill Fae's.

I'll post more Tavs soon.

[magicinaframe-part2]

A Movie Dedicated To The People Of Italy

The movie that I'm thinking about on this Sunday evening is one that was written about extensively by many different writers -- first, throughout Europe, starting when it debuted at the Cannes International Film Festival in May of 1964 -- and then, here, in the U.S., when it played in theaters, starting on July 16, 1965.

Interest in this movie has continued through the decades to the present, because of the main thread of the plot. The movie is called in Italian, PRIMA DELLA RIVOLUZIONE, which translates into English as BEFORE THE REVOLUTION...

Fabrizio (Francisco Barilli), a young adult male who appears to be in his late teens, lives in the city of Parma, Italy, with his father, mother, and little brother. He is tormented by the injustices of Italian society and by corruption that too many Italians accept.

Fabrizio is a member of the Communist Party and reveres an older man named Cesare (Morando Morandini) who has taught him history, literature, and political theory, for a number of years.

Fabrizio is upset about the fact that the Party does not seem to be making any progress in bringing about a Revolution.

At the beginning of PRIMA DELLA RIVOLUZIONE, Fabrizio is urging a friend of his, another young man named Agostino (Allen Midgette), to join the Party and to introduce himself to Cesare, so that he -- Agostino -- can also learn from the older teacher who believes in the need for Revolution.

Shortly after Fabrizio and Agostino argue over what Fabrizio says are mistakes in judgment that Agostino is making, Fabrizio learns that his friend has drowned in an accident. The news affects Fabrizio deeply; he tells himself that Agostino took his life.

Fabrizio is also conflicted about two women with whom he wants to have a relationship. There's Clelia who is from Parma and there's also his Aunt, Gina (Adriana Asti), who has been living in Milan -- until recently, when she arrived in Parma.

The bulk of the plot of this 105-minute movie details Fabrizio's attempts at figuring out what his priorities are supposed to be. For me to disclose how the movie ends would be a mistake, because writer-director Bernard Bertolucci is serious about the personality details of his main characters; i.e., the way that they relate to each other, the way that they think. These details are important to Mr. Bertolucci; he wants the audience to discover these details on their own, for themselves, as they happen on-screen.

And when you -- you who are reading my words -- get to the end of the movie, I'm reasonably certain that you'll figure out that the movie is criticizing the Communist Party. The Party has no plan of action and is not communicating effectively with Fabrizio's generation.

Some sixty years later, some sixty years after PRIMA DELLA RIVOLUZIONE debuted, Italian society has changed greatly. It has become more complicated. The world, in general, has also changed, as well as Italy's relationships with other countries throughout the world; relationships between countries have become more complicated. Would an Italian man or woman in his or her 70's have any coherent advice about what the Italian government should stand for, what the government's priorities should be? Would a young man or woman in his or her 20's agree with that advice?

If any of this sounds interesting, PRIMA DELLA RIVOLUZIONE is available on DVD with English subtitles.

-- Drew Simels

[independentzaun]

Absolutely Diabolical.

Continued from here with @astartorn

Eyes glowing with shimmer there was an intrigued, and friendly little smile on Jinx’s face as she listened to Astarion. Feet dangling as she sat up on a counter with one heel gently bumping back against a cheap metal cabinet door it made just enough sound to remind someone she was there, but not enough to truly bother. At least not enough to bother most people anyways. Hands on the counter itself she leaned forward just a touch seeming completely at ease even as she kept herself positioned in a way that would let her move practically immediately, and quite quickly should it be called for. “Ohhhhh risky, and dangerous. Well than we’d better make sure everything goes just the way we want!”

Risky? Dangerous? As though that hadn’t been her entire life. Pfh.

Raising a hand Jinx nodded. “I understand, I get ya.” She fully understood he didn’t want a single word offered to Silco after their business together. Jinx also fully understood that just because people wanted something didn’t mean they got what they wanted. That was a lesson that had been offered to her quite thoroughly lately.

Vi was probably up in Piltover with that bitch enforcer of hers…

“Of course you can trust me. I hate liars.” If there was one thing that was consistent about Jinx it was that she did hate liars, and that was one reason it’d hurt when Silco had lied through omission hidden things from her. At the same time if Astarion truly believed Jinx’s loyalty would ever extend further to him, and his secrets than it did Silco… well that was on him. It wasn’t like she’d actually said she’d keep any secrets after all, and so as far as Jinx was concerned she hadn't lied once.

Besides she was still Silco’s monster. His daughter, attack dog, and whatever else he needed.

Hopping off of the counter top she landed quietly on feet weighed down by heavy boots and strutted towards the door offering a grin to Astarion. “So let’s go have some fun. Where we going first Asty?”

[placegrenette]

Brain dump on the Almaty concert.

Set list (not necessarily in this order): Biz, Aperem Ai, Ah! Yah! Mah!, Kalay Karaisyn?, Señorita, Jurek, Ego, Su Asty, All I Need, Jur Mapelep, Lady, Kaytadan, Mooz, E.Yeah, Blue, Tartty, Ottegi, Why'm (acoustic version), Bari Biled, Abuse (I think?), Zulym, Oinamaqo, Aiyptama, and Men Emes. So pretty much everything from Gap save Dunie, plus the greatest hits. The big missing-in-action pieces were Darn and last year's songs (Suraqtar, Drift, Orik, Symbaim).

They may have reprised Aiyptama and Kaytadan a cappella as an encore, it was hard to tell where, exactly, the concert ended

also Bala cried during Kaytadan, in what is becoming a tradition

and after he cried Alem picked him up and threw him over his shoulder and then Ace spanked him, just in case you forgot this is an idol group in 2023

but otherwise they do not seem to have spent a lot of time talking. There must have been a brief break for a costume change but that was it as far as the onstage action flagging.

One of the stories suggested total attendance of 9,000, which seemed low to me, but then I found out that Almaty Arena seats only 12,000 for ice hockey. If that's the largest arena show they could get, that probably doesn't help our dudes make bank.

At some point an 8th-anniversary cake was brought onstage and Veronika and Zhadra were the ones bearing the cake, in what I thought was a genuinely nice symbolic point. (You can spin it as the wives being subordinate, but I prefer to read it as, Alem and ZaQ insisting to possibly unfriendly Eaglez that their wives deserve to be part of the greater Ninety One celebration.)

By that point all the staff was onstage and they appear, judging from the stories, to have thoroughly enjoyed themselves, good for them

With regard to concert presentation: I saw one story of "Blue" and thought, are we sure Ace isn't relying on background vocals? Then Bibotta posted a story closer to the stage where he was very clearly singing live, but the recorded vocals were playing loud enough that that's probably all you heard if you had one of the balcony seats.

But all in all they seem to have put on a good show, complete with golf carts, smoke guns, dramatic closeups, a cameo by a stuffed Minion, and sing-alongs.

And then... ? As usual my predictions were not quite right. We did indeed get Bala crying (and I'm pretty sure none of the other three were dry-eyed by the second run-through of "Kaytadan"), but in terms of clarification as to what happens now... it doesn't seem like it, and not just because of the translation issues. Ace apparently said from the stage, "We'll miss you." Azamat Demegen, who's been with them since the early Juz days, posted a story with the title "Fin," which could refer just to satisfaction at having completed all the requirements of staging a demanding performance, or... not. Ace just posted a story, at roughly 2 am local time, looking pleased and grateful to Eaglez and also like his contacts were not going to last five more minutes. The staff accounts in general do not sound like the reports of people worried they're about to lose their collective source of income. Apparently the guys did some press interviews immediately after the show, so we might get more information soon. Or, again, not.

tl;dr these guys are experienced pop stars who put on a good concert. I would like them to be able to continue to put on good concerts. I would even like, one day, to actually see one of these concerts. Will it ever happen? Who knows! I spent more time than I care to admit today refreshing Instagram, hoping for concrete information as to whether Ninety One is breaking up or merely admitting to needing a breather or precariously perched somewhere in between. If you have concrete information, please share. In the meantime we can all take comfort in knowing that somebody got to see "Ego" performed live.

[italyluxury]

A Gastronomic Adventure: Immerse Yourself in Delightful Cooking Tours in Italy

Italian food is famous and well-loved by many around the world, but not everyone has the chance to experience it in the most intimate way possible. With cooking tours in Italy, you can experience genuine Italian cuisine firsthand. A private and luxurious cooking tour takes the guesswork out of planning a DIY culinary excursion, so you can simply sit back, relax, and enjoy your holiday while indulging in the most delicious food and wines. Every cooking tour has something special in store for discerning travelers as it takes you to specific regions you wish to explore, whether it be Emilia-Romagna, Tuscany, Langhe, Asti-Monferrato, or Apulia.

Experience Italy’s culture and history through food

Italy is a vast country with different regions boasting unique cultural, artistic, and historical sights and sounds. Most Italian tours are focused on sightseeing and bringing you to various destinations. But what about experiencing them in a more immersive way? That’s what cooking tours in Italy can provide, and when you book with the right tour operator, you can enjoy a more memorable experience with an exclusive guide to walk you through every attraction. In addition, your itinerary could include off-the-beaten-path locations you can discover by tasting their local cuisines and wines. 

One of the best things about culinary tours in Italy is the chance to learn traditional recipes from home cooks and local chefs. You can also experience making regional dishes using locally sourced ingredients. You can take what you learn back home and recreate the recipes to impress your family and friends! 

Pick luxury cooking tour packages. 

No matter your taste, you will find the perfect culinary tour package from an experienced luxury private tour operator in Italy. The options include food and wine tour packages in Venice, Po Valley, Tuscany, Amalfi Coast, and Sicily. Do you want hearty and rich food? Consider a packaged luxury cooking tour in Bologna. If you want to focus on wines, consider visiting Piedmont, where you can also indulge in finer delicacies.

Satisfy your hunger for knowledge with a custom cooking tour now.

Italy Luxury Tours offers the best selection of cooking tours in Italy. Whether you want a ready-made or custom tour, the expert team is ready to make your trip possible. All tours include luxury accommodations, a private guide and driver, and an exclusive vehicle to ensure your comfort and eliminate any hassle.

[tinashezvakasikwa]

Why It's Important To Improve Yourself

  Sometimes, when all our doubts, fears and insecurities wrap ourselves up, we always come up with the idea of “I wish I was somebody else.” More often than not, we think and believe that someone or rather, most people are better than us.- when in reality, the fact is, most people are more scared than us. You spot a totally eye-catching girl sitting by herself at a party, casually sipping on a glass of Asti Spumanti. You think to yourself, “she looks so perfectly calm and confident.” But if you could read through her transparent mind, you would see a bunch of clouds of thoughts and you might just be amazed that she’s thinking “are people talking about why I am seated here alone?... Why don’t guys find me attractive? …I don’t like my ankles, they look too skinny… I wish I was as intelligent as my best friend.” We look at a young business entrepreneur and say “Wooh… what else could he ask for?” He stares at himself in the mirror and murmurs to himself, “I hate my big eyes… I wonder why my friends won’t talk to me… I hope mom and dad would still work things out.” Isn’t it funny? We look at other people, envy them for looking so outrageously perfect and wish we could trade places with them, while they look at us and thinks of the same thing. We are insecure of other people who themselves are insecure of us. We suffer from low self-esteem, lack of self-confidence and lose hope in self-improvement because we are enveloped in quiet desperation. Sometimes, you notice that you have an irritating habit like biting off your fingernails, having a foul mouth, and you – of all people, is the last to know. I have a friend who never gets tired of talking. And in most conversations, she is the only one who seems to be interested in the things she has to say. So all of our other friends tend to avoid the circles whenever she’s around, and she doesn’t notice how badly she became socially handicapped – gradually affecting the people in her environment. One key to self-improvement is to LISTEN and TALK to a trusted friend. Find someone with who you find comforts in opening up with even the most gentle topics you want to discuss. Ask questions like “do you think I am ill-mannered?”, “Do I always sound so argumentative?”, “Do I talk too loud?”, “Does my breath smell?”, “Do I ever bore you when were together?”. In this way, the other person will obviously know that you are interested in the process of self-improvement. Lend her your ears for comments and criticisms and don’t give her answers like “Don’t exaggerate! That’s just the way I am!” Open up your mind and heart as well. And in return, you may want to help your friend with constructive criticism that will also help her improve herself. One of Whitney Houston’s songs says “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.” True enough. In order to love others, you must love yourself too. Remember, you cannot give what you do not have. Before telling other people some ways how to improve themselves, let them see that you yourself is a representation and a product of self-improvement. Self-improvement makes us better people, we then inspire other people, and then the rest of the world will follow. Stop thinking of yourselves as second-rate beings. Forget the repetitive thought of “If only I was richer… if only I was thinner” and so on. Accepting your true self is the first step to self-improvement. We need to stop comparing ourselves to others only to find out at the end that we’ve got 10 more reasons to envy them. We all have our insecurities. Nobody is perfect. We always wish we had better things, better features, better body parts, etc. But life need not be perfect for people to be happy about themselves. Self-improvement and loving yourself is not a matter of shouting to the whole world that you are perfect and you are the best. It’s the virtue of acceptance and contentment. When we begin to improve ourselves, we then begin to feel contented and happy. Read the full article

[justalittletomato]

Birthday Bash! (Danica turns 21!)

In short: Danica goes to a club for her birthday, Aster, Eris and Poppy join in. 

Mentions of alcohol  @patchiefrog just a hint of angst but not really 

Danica was new to all of this. Why yes she went out prior but this was different. 

Not her bookstores or cafes where she would get extra chocolate in her mocha.

The heat of the day had yet to dissipate even as twilight set in she still felt it in the air. Aster busied herself with making sure each of Danica's curls was soft to the touch. 

Their cousin Eris and her fiance Poppy adjust the wingtips on Danica's eyes. 

“Is this not excessive?” asks the youngest of the Oppress girls. 

Aster dressed in her signature violet-blue shakes her head, “It is not every day one of us turns 21. Now hold still birthday girl I am going to make sure any Chiss there has their eyes on you.” 

Danica makes a small squeak, “Don’t say that!” 

Eris and Poppy laugh, “Don't tease her like that,” Eris starts

“However, true it is!” Poppy adds, “ Really Danica it's quite clear…” 

“That me and Ava are best friends forever and ever?” Danica quickly says. “Just that!” her shoulders droop, “Always that…” 

Aster kisses her baby sister’s cheek, “ Never say never. Now how about a pair of heels?” 

Eris laughs, “Aster we want her to reach 22!” 

Danica laughs, “Please, Asty you know I can’t!” clumsy as she was as a child, but Aster was determined. 

---

With some practice and a miracle Danica more or less carefully navigated a pair of black kitten heels that complimented the night blue dress Aster put her in. 

“Just a bit of deep red,” deep burgundy staining her full lips. Aster gives her an encouraging smile, “ how lovely you are Danica.” 

“My oh my,” Poppy giggles, “Miss Danica Oppress you are sure to steal hearts on your birthday!” 

Eris gives her small applause,  “Uncle Maul must not know of how many people will be entranced by his dearest little Dani.” 

---

Danica wrinkles her nose at the smell of the drink, “Why would I drink something if it isn't tasty?” 

“The feeling, it gives a nice buzz, oh also here is number 3 I think.” Eris passes Danica a paper. 3 comm numbers and 4 people who have already flirted with her. Danica was already a blushing mess. 

Aster calls for another drink instead, “It's on the house anyway…” a green drink passed to Dani with an apple rind. 

“Seriously, Aster? You still can do that?”  Eris and Poppy explain. 

“What can I say? I get better as time goes on.” 

Danica sips at her drink. Sweet. Apple. A bit of bite from the alcohol. 

“Awww her first drink!” 

Danica gives a sheepish smile, she and Ava had stolen champagne bottles since they were 17…laughing and taking sips as they ran through the shelves of the library. 

Yeah first…

---

“Go dance with her.”  Ezra Bridger more or less pushes Ava toward the dance floor. A tad difficult since the Chiss shot up since turning 16. Now at 6 feet he was slightly taller than the Jedi. 

“What?” Ava stumbles and almost drops the drink in his hand. 

“Go dance with Dani.” Ezra tries again

“Ezra we came here to make sure…” Ava tumbles over his words. 

“I came here to make sure everything was alright, I brought you to make sure you got to dance with the birthday girl” 

----

“ AVA?!”  Danica squeaks 

“Uh hi…” his face must be purple now. Oh she is just a vision in her outfit! 

“Oh hello Ava! Is my husband around then?” Aster instantly perks up and wanders off into the crowd. An audible groan from some of the bar attendees. Married?! 

Eris and Poppy have also disappeared. Leta and Cress who had also come along to celebrate were dancing already on the dance floor. Letas laughter ringing through with Cress’s. 

 Ava and Danica are alone with the sound of music loud and lights intense. 

“Happy Birthday. Again…” 

He had told her a dozen times, little gifts throughout the day. Pens, stamps and even a first edition of her favorite book….

“Thanks…again. Ava can I ask for another gift?” she knows her face is dark red now. 

“Hmmm?” 

“A dance?” 

---

The two laugh and spin. Ava taking gentle care to hold Dani tight so she wont fall. Its so easy its so simple! Just like they have always done! 

“And now we slow it down….”

A slow dance now…pressed closer than before. 

“Danica can I give you one last gift?”

He tilts his head slightly,

“Please…” Dani whispers. 

---

Lips shy from another and the birthday kiss is instead pressed to her temple. “Happy Birthday Dani…” 

Sweet drinks are dangerous at times, she pulls at him, and thier lips touch.  “Yes…the best…” 

[anywhozits]

Kristoff’s Favorite Christmas Present

Rating: G

Words: 4583

Verse: Canonverse

Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Anna has a plan to give Kristoff the best present of all time. Naturally she must enlist the help of her magical sister and twin daughters.

READ ON AO3 HERE

“I’m sorry—you put the peppermint where?” Anna gasped, stopping her frantic Christmas present rearranging to stare wide-eyed at her daughter.

Two-and-a-half-year-old Iduna’s lower lip curled as she whispered, “Reindeer’s nose?”

“Reindeer…” Anna furrowed her eyebrows. “Sven’s nose?”

Iduna bobbed her head up and down, and Anna couldn’t help but laugh despite feeling mighty sorry for Sven.

“Duna!”

She shrugged. “He was hungry!”

Anna laughed again, dropping to her knees to explain calmly, “Hungry means you should put the peppermint into his mouth, not his nose. Nose is for smelling. Mouth is for eating. Let’s get this sorted out, okay? Why don’t you go with…” Anna’s eyes scanned the entire room for somebody—anybody—to lead this expedition, but they all looked more than busy.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Kristoff. The reminder that he was only minutes away from opening his Christmas present was enough to send an excited tingle down her spine.

Her wonderful husband had his arms full carrying their other twin, Asta, while also trying to balance Elsa’s presents. Anna could hear Asta’s adorable squeal, “Papa, papa! Booger tastes gingerbread-y!”

Anna chuckled. Oh, Asti…

For fear of spoiling everything prematurely, Anna had to look away, thus noticing that only one person—well, snowman, appeared not otherwise occupied. Smiling widely all the way, Olaf hobbled around the room, greeting everyone he saw with a wave of his twig arm and a repeated “Oh, I just love the holidays!”

“Olaf!”

“Oh, hi, Anna! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas! Hey, can you take Iduna to find Sven? I think he might have a peppermint stuck up his nose…”

“Gotta put mouth! Sven hungry!” Iduna reached out to grab Olaf’s hand.

“Gotcha!” He said, giving Anna a wink. “Why, hello, Princess Duna. Looks like we were both on the nice list this year?” Olaf gestured to the mountains of presents under the tree. Each member of the family had a different wrapping paper color to help differentiate the gifts. Olaf’s, for instance, was blue, centrally featuring several friendly snowmen. Both Iduna and Asta, however, had already opened their presents when they woke up at the literal crack of dawn. The carnage of red and gold wrapping paper now sat in massive piles in the corner of the ballroom.

Iduna let out a high-pitched laugh. “Ya!”

As Anna watched them walk away, she let out a sigh. Still so much to prepare… and she started to feel so nervous and excited (hah—nervecited) all over again.

Her eyes drifted to Kristoff once more and then all the butterflies in her stomach unleashed themselves at once. She needed to look away. Nervecited. Yup. Still couldn’t look at Kristoff. Noted.

“Els!” Her sister, instead, provided the perfect distraction.

“Yes, Anna?” Elsa was working diligently on her ice sculptures, finishing up the last details of the ice sleigh she loved featuring as a centerpiece.

“Are you—you know what we’re gonna do? You know the plan?”

Elsa smiled. “Yep. I’ve got it.”

“Okay. Good—great.”

“You feeling all right?”

“Yes, actually. Just—”

“Nervecited?”

“Uh-huh.”

Elsa gave Anna a gentle nudge. “You don’t have to wait much longer, you know.”

And then Anna sighed. “It feels like I’ve already waited too long.”

“Why don’t we get on with it, then?”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay. That’s a good idea. Why wait anymore, right? We can… we can just go for it. Celebrate! He’ll want to celebrate, right? We’ll all celebrate?”

“Definitely!”

“Definitely, right! God, I’m so excited! Wanna grab the girls? I sent Iduna off with Olaf to find Sven and fix his nose—"

"Fix his—?"

"And once they’re back—”

“Oh! They’re here!”

Turning around, Anna saw her daughter and Olaf quickly approaching, both of them moving about in a clumsy pattern due to their collectively short legs.

“Mama!” Iduna called. “Sven love peppermint—no hungry more!” Anna giggled as she picked Duna up and snuggled her.

“Thank you for doing that, sweetie.”

“Welcome, Mama!”

“I’m happy that he loved it,” Anna said. Afterwards, Iduna tightened her hold on Anna and snuggled in close, popping her left thumb into her mouth and sucking gently. Anna kissed the top of her blonde hair.

“Shall we get started on our present for Papa?”

Iduna’s head nodded a couple times.

Okay—it was time. Nervecited. But now, way more excited than nervous.

Just one more twin to round up…

“Asti!”

She heard a little bit of a moan or a groan or maybe even an excited squeal and turned to see Asta stuffing her face with most, if not all, of the chocolate from her stocking. Her mouth was so stuffed that barely any sound could make it out.

There was also heaps and heaps of melted chocolate on her hands and her cheeks and her lips. She was a chocolate mess.

But Anna loved it. She didn’t even mind when Asti took her hand and all that melted chocolate squished between them.

“We’re gonna give Papa his present, okay?”

“Mmm!” Her mouth was still so full of chocolate.

Elsa soon joined them next to the tree, bouncing up and down in her own excitement. She took Asta’s other hand.

“Okay!” Anna shouted. “It’s time to finish opening presents!” Excited, excited! Nervous—nervecited. Excited! Anna’s mind and heart utterly couldn’t pick an emotion today. “Kris, you’re next!”

He strolled toward her with an amused smirk, kissing the twins’ foreheads before bringing in his wife for a tender smooch.

“I told you not to get me anything,” he said as he snaked an arm around her waist.

Anna laughed. “Oh, hush! You know we’d never listen to a request as ridiculous as that!”

“Besides, Kristoff, you’re gonna love it,” Elsa explained. “Right, Anna? He’s gonna love it?”

“You’re gonna love it,” Anna confirmed.

“Okay,” he said, kissing his wife yet again. “I’m intrigued.”

Anna absolutely beamed before handing Iduna over to Elsa. Elsa immediately placed her gently on the floor next to her twin. Iduna looked up at her aunt with her big cerulean eyes and kept sucking on her thumb.

The three of them—Elsa, Iduna, and Asta—then formed a circle. Elsa got on her knees, trying to remain at eye level of the two-and-a-half-year-old twins. She whispered something into both of their ears, and they smiled. Iduna freed her thumb from her mouth.

“Remember what I told you yesterday—think really, really hard about what you want to do. Picture it in your head. Concentrate… on what you want to create and how much you love your mama and your papa.”

“Auntie, too!” Asta added.

Elsa hesitated. “Oh—I… if you want to think of that, too, then—yes. You can… you can think of Auntie Elsa, too.”

“Love you!” Asta squealed, making Elsa blush.

“And I love you, too. Both of you!” Elsa booped the girls on their noses and they giggled. “Okay—are you ready?”

Both Asta and Iduna nodded and joined hands. To harness the full strength of their magic properly they needed to share it. Either they used their powers together or one relinquished the powers temporarily to the other. It’s a twin thing. And given their May Day birthday, their power must be spring themed…

Branches came to life, flowing across the room with an elegant choreography. The branches weaved together to form the shape of a wicker bassinet. The twins controlled nature—springtime nature—the earth, really. Flowers, dirt, trees, the like. The other side of Elsa’s powers.

As the girls finished their bassinet, Elsa swirled her own hands together to create the final touch—a baby made out of permafrost and ice, connected to the twins’ creation. Complete with a lovely semi-circle arrangement that allowed this piece to hang on a Christmas tree.

Ta-da, Elsa gestured. “It’s an ornament!”

“For you, baby,” Anna added as she gave her husband a slight nudge.

“Auntie Belsa! Up, please!” Iduna reached her hands out to Elsa, who happily lifted her up. Somehow, Elsa and Iduna looked more like twins than Iduna and Asta did. Truly the only key difference was that Iduna had slightly darker more-Kristoff-than-Elsa blonde hair.

Meanwhile, Asta plopped down to the floor to start licking chocolate off her hands and her face. She had more of the Kristoff genes—kind brown eyes and a fierce nose. But her face was still covered in Anna’s freckles.

“It’s beautiful,” Kristoff said. “I love that Elsa taught our daughters how to use their powers to make this.”

Anna sighed. If he hadn’t mentioned… did he really not get it? Or … was this an actually a super dumb idea akin to those first few supposedly impossible charades hints that Elsa and Olaf couldn’t get?

Kristoff gave thankful kisses to his daughters and a gracious hug to his sister-in-law. “I mean it. Elsa, you’ve clearly taught them so well. They already have such good control over their powers.”

“Well,” Elsa shrugged. “They’ve got a lot of love in their lives.”

Okay—fine. Time to push a little more. Anna urged, “Sooo, what do you think this ornament is?”

Kristoff looked at her curiously. “What?”

“Like, what’s… what’s in the ornament? What’s the theme? Who’s the baby?”

“Oh—well…it’s a nativity ornament, right?”

Both Anna and Elsa exchanged confused glances before bursting out into laughter.

“What? This is … baby Jesus, right?” Kristoff continued. “The nativity… it’s Christmas.”

Elsa buried her head in her hand and Anna groaned, clarifying, “It’s not a… it’s not a nativity ornament…”

“I can see why you’d think that, though, Kristoff,” Elsa said. “Because, well, it is Christmas. We probably should’ve given this a bit more thought.”

Anna’s heart skipped a beat. All right. Time for Plan B.

She scurried to the tree and pulled out a present wrapped in Kristoff themed red reindeer paper. “Here. This one’s from me.”

Kristoff gave it a couple hearty shakes, then he ran his hands along the creases. “Feels like a book.” Next he brought it up to his face to take a closer look. “Looks like a book.” And, finally, sniffed it. “Smells like a book.”

This was it. The present was obvious—clear. No room for misinterpretation this time.

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod it was about to happen.

“OPEN IT!” Anna yelled, unable to contain her excitement anymore.

He tore off the paper quickly and started smiling at a black leather notebook. “Thank you, baby. You know I love a good notebook.”

“There’s something inside, Kris!” Anna eagerly explained. “You should read it.”

Giving his wife a curious look, Kristoff opened the notebook.

The second he allowed himself to read the words written in Anna’s script, his jaw dropped.

Baby Bjorgman Number 3

Week 8: Baby’s the size of a kidney bean

-Feeling great overall! Shocker!

-Little bit of nausea when smelling onions

-Truly disgusting amount of saliva in the mouth. Need to spit every 2 seconds

-Kinda tired? Maybe? From baby or from queen things?

-Super weird, vivid dreams about Sven dancing in a tutu. Like, every night.

He was silent—in shock. When he looked up, finally, Anna beamed at him. “See, it wasn’t Baby Jesus. It was—”

Before Anna could finish the thought, she flew in the air. Kristoff lifted her up and twirled her around—his signature move.

He had done the same when she told him she was pregnant the first time, and it meant so much to Anna that he was just as excited this time around.

As Kristoff brought her back to the ground, he kept his hands around her waist and then drew her in for a tender yet passionate kiss. One of his large hands dropped to her stomach to caress her nonexistent baby bump.

“Our little bean!” He kissed her again. “This is the best Christmas present I’ve ever—and it’s even more special since you, Elsa, and the girls worked on this together. With the magic and the ornament, and, obviously, the journal you made.”

“Yay—good! I thought this would be fun! You know—since we surprised Elsa last time, I thought it only fair we return the favor. Really get you good.”

He smiled and said, “You got me real good. I had no idea, honest. I can’t say I didn’t hope but I still didn’t expect it. I take back what I said about not wanting anything for Christmas. This is what I wanted. This is everything I ever wanted.” His hand still rested protectively on Anna’s belly. “How long have you known?”

“Barely a week! I thought I was just late or stressed or something since I’ve been feeling really great, honestly. Maybe this means there’s only one baby this time?”

Kristoff laughed.

“So, you’re happy? You’re excited?”

“Of course, Anna,” he said. “This is the best Christmas present I could ever ask for.”

Tears actually shot out of Anna’s eyes. Her husband was quite literally the perfect human.

Kristoff kissed her again, and he felt it too. Honestly just as emotional as his wife. On the brink of tears. In reality, he had hoped this announcement would come soon. The doctor told them to wait until the twins were at least two before they started trying again, but on their birthday, Anna and Kristoff had decided at least was a useless phrase. Two years would be plenty.

And now, seven months later, their third kid was on the way… 8 weeks on the way already.

When Kristoff pulled away, he suddenly remembered that he and Anna weren’t alone.

“Elsa, I—thank you, again. It means… it’s so much more special now that I know.”

“You’re welcome! It’s been fun to plan. I knew you’d be thrilled.”

Kristoff smiled so genuinely his eyes crinkled. “You know me well. When did you find out?”

“She told me when I got here a few days ago. Well, she said that she thought maybe, but didn’t know for sure.”

“Once the doctor confirmed everything, we started planning this.” Anna had wanted to really surprise Kristoff this time around. She was so anxious and excited and enthusiastic the first time it was nearly impossible for her to keep anything to herself. It all started when she got that weird headache a week before her monthly cycle was due. From that point on, she told Kristoff everything, in great detail. This time, all of her thoughts, feelings, and emotions about being late but without any of her previous symptoms remained barricaded in her mind and her mind only. She really had convinced herself it was nothing more than stress. But even still, given the other-more-exciting thing was definitely a possibility, she had to keep mum. Because she really wanted to surprise him—do something special. And, conveniently, Christmas had been just around the corner.

It shocked Anna that she made it this far, honestly. A perfectly kept secret.

“And you told the twins too?”

“Yep. I told them… although not too sure how much they really understand what’s going on,” Anna laughed. They really did look as confused as ever. “But whatever—I still wanted to make sure our little cuties were involved! And Elsa kept saying that their magic lessons are going so great, too, so I wanted to see!”

Kristoff reached down and took Asta into his arms. She had wholly cleaned herself of the chocolate. Sugar-high very much imminent.

“Asti, you’re gonna be a big sister! How does it feel?”

“I have sister!”

They all laughed.

“You do have a sister. You have Iduna. But this summer—uh, when exactly did they say?”

“Mid-July, probably. Maybe late July. Maybe early August,” Anna responded. “Toss-up between Cancer and Leo baby!”

“Ooh right. That’ll be interesting,” Elsa said. “Honeymaren said she wanted to help me with a full astrological reading whenever you have your next baby. We’ll have some thinking to do before this summer.”

Anna legitimately squealed. “Aww, that’s nice of her! How fun! I love your readings, Els.”

“Thanks.”

“So, wait. Anna, you’re really feeling okay?” Kristoff sounded stunned. Granted, he had to watch her throw up everything she put into her mouth (other than chocolate) for the first almost 15 weeks of her last pregnancy, so his shock was more than founded.

“Uh-huh! It’s super weird. Disorienting, honestly. I can eat real food and not have to worry about tossing it back up later. Although now that I said that I bet it’ll all change and I’m gonna have to throw up all the—ugh, I’m totally jinxing it, aren’t I?”

“Nah, honey. There’s no such thing as a jinx.”

“You’re talking to someone who has a fifth spirit sister, a talking snowman best pal, and also twin daughters with special earthy springtime nature powers,” Anna deadpanned, so much so that Kristoff chuckled. “There are totally such things as jinxes, husband. Totally, totally.”

She was probably right on that one.

“Well I know you’re—ah, guess I shouldn’t say that, with the jinx and everything—but, um, even though you’re—” Kristoff gestured and made noises that sounded like he completed the phrase with ‘feeling great’ without actually saying the words. “But, what would you say if I started up my chocolate collection again?”

“Um, well, obviously I would say the only thing I can say which is… bring it on, baby! I’d love some chocolate. Chocolate sounds amazing right now. Honestly I was about to lick it all off of Asta’s hands until she licked it off herself.”

This got Asti’s attention. “More chocolate?”

“Chocolate for Mama this time! And maybe we’ll save some for you, too, soon-to-be-big-sister.” Anna said while giving Asti’s blonde hair a good ruffle.

In the meantime, Kristoff’s eyes darted quickly to the hutch in the corner of the expansive ballroom and he eyeballed the collection of silverware, trying to locate his favorite chocolate-making spoons. He couldn’t help but note the fact that one of the spoons is distractedly off-kilter. He smirked. “Asti, wanna come with me to get some chocolate, love?”

“Mmhmm!”

And then they were off.

Anna looked around curiously for a second before turning back to Elsa. “Wait, wait, wait, wait. Where did Olaf run off to? Was he even here when Kristoff figured it out?”

“I have no idea.”

“Duna, have you seen Olaf?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Olaf!” Anna called out. “Olaf, are you here? Are you anywhere?”

Nothing.

But then, soon enough, they heard the pitter patter of snowman feet on the wood floors. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!” He was going as fast as he can, holding onto an extremely shoddily wrapped present.

He stopped in his tracks, right in front of Anna, took a bow, and then held up the present to her face. “This one’s for you! And Kristoff!”

“Oh! Thank you, Olaf,” Anna said, taking the present into her hands. “When’d you run off?”

“After you gave Kristoff his gift.”

“Oh—so you—”

“Anna! Chocolate!”

Anna snapped to attention when a bar of sea salt dark chocolate barrels toward her face. She caught it with her left hand thanks to some kind of crazy reflex she didn’t even know she had. “Thank you, husband!”

When she gave Kristoff a gracious look, she noticed that Asta was sucking on some more chocolate. All right. Super, super crazy sugar-rush now even more imminent.

Olaf skipped toward Kristoff. “I have a present for you!”

“Oh, uh—”

“I’ve got it here, Kris,” Anna explained, holding up said present.

“Great!”

Kristoff put Asta down and stood next to his wife, helping her tear open the present. Upon removing the crumpled wrapping paper, a marvelous creation revealed itself.

Adorable blue knit booties. Baby-sized.

Both Anna and Kristoff’s eyes widened to a saucer-like degree. Kristoff started, “Olaf, how did you—”

At the same time that Anna added, “Did you make these yourself?”

“Yup! Made them yesterday—oh boy was I excited when I overheard you and Elsa talking about the new baby! And now I know that babies come from eating a special pie thingie from the trolls, and that they start off really tiny inside you and then they’re born after a really, really long time. And when they’re born, they have little feet that could get cold! So yes, I made these,” Olaf said proudly. “And by the way, I did such a great job keeping the secret—but it was so hard. I told so many rocks and trees and snowballs in the forest. And a couple fish. Oh, and maybe twelve puffins!”

“Those puffins. Surprised they didn’t come blabbing,” Anna joked, giggling. “Well, thank you, Olaf. These are adorable and it’s so sweet that you worked so hard to make them! Baby’s gonna love them. You’re right, they’ll be perfect for keeping baby’s little teeny tiny feet so nice and warm. But, wait… since when do you know how to knit?”

“Just something I’ve picked up with my old age.”

Kristoff raised his eyebrows. “Old age, huh?”

Entertaining Kristoff zero, Olaf narrowed his eyes and waddled closer to Anna. “So the baby’s still really tiny, right?”

“Yes! You could tell if the baby were bigger. Remember last time the babies grew a lot before they were born?”

“Oh, yes, I do remember,” Olaf said. “It looked like you ate Sven!”

Laughs all around.

Then, Asta toddled on over to her snowman best friend. “Play, play with Olaf!”

“I would love to play with you, Princess Asti!”

Iduna started squirming in Elsa’s arms, signaling that she, too, wanted to play. Elsa set her down carefully and Iduna’s legs propelled her toward Olaf at warp speed.

“Hello again, Princess Duna.”

“Olaf!” She ran to give him a hug. “Play!”

“Why, yes, I’d love to play with you too! This is so much fun—playing with the twin big sisters! What should we play?”

Asta started, “Ring around rosie!”

And Iduna chimed in at practically the same time, “Olaf says!”

“Hmm. Both wonderful games! And I bet we have time for both. What should we start with?”

“Ring around the rosie!”

“Olaf says!”

“Huh. A stalemate. How can we solve this? A dance off?”

The girls giggled.

“Or can I choose the order?”

They both stared blankly at Olaf.

“Ring around the rosie first! Sorry, Iduna. We’ll play Olaf says next, okay? And I’ll make it extra special just for you, future-big-sister.”

Asta jumped in the air and ran around in probably twenty circles in excitement. The chocolate evidently hit Asti right at that second.

Eventually, they positioned themselves for game time in the middle of the ballroom, leaving Kristoff, Elsa, and Anna alone by the tree.

Kristoff took this as his opportunity to cozy up to his wife. He usually wouldn’t do this in such a public space. As much as he loved physical touch and affection, he was never one for PDA in the usual sense of the term. But something about today felt different. Something about this whole wonderful and exciting situation felt different.

Immediately he dropped to his knees, and then two large hands grabbed Anna’s still-small waist. First, he ran one hand along her stomach, and then he planted gentle kisses on the place that would grow over the next seven months.

Anna giggled and blushed. She always loved when he did this. It made her feel even a pang of regret that she worked so hard to keep the possible pregnancy a secret. Because she missed out on four weeks of this…

But seeing his wide, surprised, ecstatic eyes… and witnessing their daughters working to make this surprise present happen made it all the worth it. They’d still have time for this. Now, even—now was the perfect time.

And it was, clearly. Kristoff felt it, too. He cooed, “Tiny bean baby. Not Sven sized—bean sized. I love you, baby bean. Papa loves you.” His voice got pretty high-pitched and sing-songy when he spoke.

Of course, Elsa heard from Anna that Kristoff tended to speak a little differently around her—their cutesy nicknames only one example. But witnessing it firsthand made Elsa smile a smile unparalleled in sincerity.

Bringing in Olaf’s booties close to her heart, Anna blushed in pure delight, cherishing them as much as she cherished the moment.

Kristoff continued making faces at Anna’s stomach, putting his ear against it, and speaking in high-pitched whispers.

This visual was far too cute for Elsa and she felt the emotions getting ready to pour out of her.

“I’m so happy for you two! Really—I said this all to Anna the other day—with tears and everything, but you’ve both been so wonderful to Duna and Asti, and it’s clear to me, given how they already have such a good grasp on their powers. I guess I did have control somewhat when I was younger, but then it got worse, when, uh—” She hesitated but then cleared her throat. Not wanting to go down that road tonight. “But you two. You’re really doing well. You’re great parents. You’re meant to be parents.”

This made Kristoff stop what he was doing and run to give Elsa a nice, big hug. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, Els,” Anna agreed, walking over to put one loving hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “That means a lot to us. Like, a lot a lot. We were just two fools who knew a lot about being alone. And almost nothing about childrearing.”

“Your heart’s so big, though. You… you always had it in you. Both of you.”

Anna laughed and Kristoff hugged Elsa tighter. PDA-mode very much activated. “Hope this’ll hold true once we’re outnumbered.”

“You won’t be outnumbered,” Elsa explained. “You’ve still got Auntie Belsa.”

Anna automatically felt tears welling up in her eyes. One cute little line from her sister and she was off to the crying races yet again. “Thank goodness—we’re so lucky to have you.” Okay, it had gotten worse. Anna was practically a hyperventilating mess of tears at this point. Barely able to get out the sentence without a sob in between each word.

Then they heard a chorus of rambunctious squeals from the twins and an enthusiastic yelp from Olaf. Their attention focused on the middle of the room.

They gasped.

Iduna and Asta had created floating roses that hang above their heads as they play the game, and each of the three held their own bouquet of roses in their hands.

When Elsa said they had good control of their powers, Anna didn’t quite think she meant this. Without Elsa’s coaching, even.

They watched as the roses swelled in time with their singing

Ring around the rosie

A pocket full of posies

“Posies!” Asti yelled. “In pocket!”

With two swirls of her hand, posies appeared. Both Asta and Iduna stuffed them into their dresses. Olaf positioned a couple on his head. The girls laughed at that sight.

Seeing this, Anna sighed, lovingly and longingly. “They’re perfect.”

“And another perfect one’s on the way.” Kristoff smiled and rubbed her belly one more time for good measure.

“Wow,” Anna gushed. “Next year there’ll be three.”

“Outnumbered,” Kristoff added.

But Elsa huffed. “Not outnumbered!”

“I can’t wait!” Anna squealed.

And she couldn’t. They all couldn’t.

Because this Christmas was absolutely everything they could've wished and hoped for. And naturally, all their future Christmases, complete with a gaggle of three or four or five-hundred Bjorgman children, would be just as perfect.

With its open gates, full hearts, and an even fuller castle.

[punkscowardschampions]

Astrid & Libi

Astrid: ....

Astrid: wHY Is JaKe doiNG tHat?

Astrid: itS beInG weIRd

Libi: Doing what, Astie?

Libi: He is a bit weird, isn’t he

Astrid: 👀 @ u 💬 @ u

Libi: Oh, well we’re both going to be in the school play that Mr Mullan is putting on

Libi: He’s going to be my husband/partner in crime 💥🔫🔫

Astrid: ⛔⛔⛔⛔

Astrid: yoUrE noT FRiENdS

Astrid: doEsNT mR mULLaN knOw??

Libi: I’ll have to do really good acting and pretend we are

Libi: Were first years allowed to audition?

Astrid: [lists everything vaguely shady that Libi has ever said about Jake like but you said… so good luck lol]

Astrid: ....

Astrid: i DoNt KnOW

Libi: Okay, I’ll have to work hard 😅 He seems like he really wants to do the play so hopefully he will work hard too

Libi: Oh that’s okay, it takes time to settle in doesn’t it

Libi: How are you liking your lessons?

Astrid: hmmMMMm

Astrid: HOPEfullY PeOPLe wonT bE 😢 oR 😡

Astrid: iT tAkEs tiME TO settLE iN ✅☑️

Astrid: I liKe hIStoRY & rE

Astrid: [cue a long long ramble about everything she’s learnt and is interested in within both of those subjects that I won’t subject us to even though I too like both of those]

Libi: I hope not

Libi: 😂 or 😁 or both

Libi: That’s really cool, you’ve learnt so much already

Libi: [At least she did all this last year so can talk about it too and indulge and talk about what she’s doing within those subjects this year]

Astrid: BObBy wilL BE

Astrid: 😢 oR 😡 BOTH thAT heS nOT yOUR paRTnER in CRImE

Astrid: [you’ll be so excited to learn some of that shit next year bab & have probably gone off fall down a rabbit hole/nerd out about all of that so there will be a pause for ages lol]

Libi: Bobby does have a part though, so we still get to rehearse and do all the fun stuff together 🙂

Astrid: 🙃

Astrid: DoEs Mr mULlAn kNOw iVe 👀 A dEaD boDy? iS HE gonNa 💬 @ ME?

Astrid: ❓🤔

Libi: Oh I don’t think he’ll do that, I think he’d see that as rude, he wouldn’t want to upset you, and talking about it might upset you

Libi: But if you did want to tell him anything, maybe you could tell me and I’ll tell him for you

Astrid: 👌 THat maKeS SenSE

Astrid: bUt i wONT tEll YoU iN cASE iT MAKES yoU uPSEt

Libi: That’s nice of you, Astie

Libi: But you can talk to me about it, if you wanna, I won’t tell you to stop

Libi: And I might get bits of it

Astrid: sOme SUBjeCTs yoUrE nOT ALlowed TO 💬 abOUT unLeSs tHE oTHeR perSon brINgs theM Up 1St

Astrid: whOs DeAD & wHo pEopLe waNNA 💋

Libi: Who 💬 those rules?

Libi: I’ll have to remember them 😏

Astrid: mRs FifIELd eveRy tIMe we Do SOCiaL SkilLS

Astrid: rEpeaTING it Will HelP yOU remEMbER

Libi: I’ll give it my best shot

Libi: Though sometimes it’s very obvious who wants to 💋 who that it feels strange NOT to talk about it, doesn’t it

Astrid: 🙂 🙃

Astrid: ThATs WHAT i 💬 baCK eVerYtimE

Astrid: buT sHE doeSnt Get 😡

Libi: It’s a good point

Libi: Do you think she’d like to help with the play?

Astrid: shE doEsNT lIkE mr mULLAN

Astrid: thaTS V obVioUS

Libi: Ahh

Libi: I’m not sure of him yet, he’s okay but… I’m not sure, I guess

Astrid: he waNTS yoU to 💋 JakE In fronT oF EVERYonE & THats NOT ��

Libi: It’ll just be pretending, I don’t have to really like him

Libi: I knew it might be a possibility of kissing anyone when I signed up, so it’s okay

Astrid: & hEs gOnNa be prEteNdinG tO nOT bE meaN But afTer the PLaY he wONT 👀 @ u 💬 @ U

Libi: Probably

Libi: But that’s okay with me

Astrid: If yoUre NOT 😢 oR 😡 its 👌 WITH me ToO

Libi: Thanks for having my back

Libi: I’m most excited about all the behind the scenes stuff

Libi: There’s lots of props and sets and costumes to make and source

Libi: We could do with your 👀 if you wanna come ‘round after school Friday

Libi: Jake won’t be there, just our friends

Astrid: 🧡 wErE FamILY & FriEnDS iVE got yoUR bacK & frONT 💛

Astrid: 😀 😃 😄 😁 😆 😅 😂 🤣

Astrid: ❓🤔 WHEReS the PLaY SET & wHEn?

Astrid: friDAY afteR scHOOl 👌 FRIday afTer scHoOL

Astrid: 🕓 🕔 🕕 🕖 🕗 🕘 🕙?

Libi: Yeah we are 💚💜

Libi: [Nerd out about the whole vibe of this play]

Libi: We’ll probably get pizza, is that good with you? Come at 4 if you want pizza but if not have your dinner then come, alright?

Astrid: [when Ro’s your mum so you love dressing up and vintage shit, she’ll just be the casual unofficial costume designer of the play for this squad tbh]

Astrid: ILL be ThERE @ 5

Libi: Sounds great 😊

Astrid: WHEn arE yoU learNING youR lines?

Libi: Weds/Fri after school, then fitting it in with homework 🤞

Astrid: iS mR MUllaN doING eVERY reheARSAL?

Libi: He’s sharing with Ms Howe, the art teacher, I think he’s doing Fridays and she’s doing Wednesdays

Libi: We’ll see how that goes

Astrid: dO yoU LiKE her?

Libi: She’s really nice, and she always listens to everyone’s decisions in 🎨 so she should be a good addition to the team, I think

Astrid: ❕ ILL tEll HeR wHAt a dEAD bODy looks lIKe ❕

Libi: It would be nice to get the makeup somewhat realistic, budget willing

Astrid: [send her some designs obvs]

Libi: Oh wow, I really like the second one, it’s really detailed but looks achievable still

Libi: We’ve got to do five murders total...I think 🤪

Libi: and they all die in different ways so there’s lots of room to play

Astrid: 5 😀 😃 😄 😁 😆 😅 😂 🤣

Astrid: THe DeTecTiVe hAS goTTa be V in LOve wiTh YoU

Astrid: iS he NicER thAN JaKE?

Libi: Yeah, that plot twist is pretty easy to spot isn’t it 😏

Libi: 👗👠💄💉🩸💋💣 that’s me

Libi: I didn’t really know much about him before, he’s a third year

Libi: but so far yeah, he seems really chill and kinda funny, so that’s good, less awkward 🤞

Astrid: is A 💋 wiTH him iN the ScripT?

Libi: Yep

Libi: Just those two, thank goodness

Astrid: gRanDMa wiLL be 😡😡😡😡😡😡

Libi: I told her I was auditioning

Libi: but that’s what I’m worried about now as well

Libi: I didn’t think I’d get this part

Libi: What do you think I should do?

Astrid: KEEp it a SURPRise

Astrid: eVERyONe LikEs sURprIsES

Astrid: She woNT gUESS YouRE 👗👠💄💉🩸💋💣

Libi: Maybe

Libi: I’m not sure nan likes surprises though

Astrid: HMMmmm

Astrid: mAyBe she woNT nOtICE the 💋

Astrid: 5 BodiEs aRE GoNNa Be LyinG on StaGE

Libi: Priorities, right 😅

Astrid: I cOULd gET heR to CloSE heR 👀 whEN I do

Astrid: ShE woULD do it wiTH mE so IM noT 😢 oR 😡

Libi: You’d do that for me?

Libi: That’s really sweet of you

Libi: But I’ll find a way to tell her, it’s okay

Libi: If she isn’t okay with it I won’t do it

Astrid: 👌 bUT IF yoU dOnt whoS yoUR UnDERSTUDY?

Libi: China O’Neill

Libi: then Beck would get to be her current role

Astrid: ⛔⛔⛔⛔

Astrid: im NOt heLPIng HER

Libi: I can’t say I blame you

Libi: It’ll be hard to be ‘best friends’ with her in the play and rehearse with her that much

Astrid: ThankFULLY YOUrE THe BesT acTresS in SchOOL

Libi: 😌

Libi: You’re so kind, I just got lucky

Libi: China really wanted my role

Astrid: iTS NoT ACTing FOR her to PLAy tHE VIllaIN its A viNTAGE drESS UP sessION

Astrid: shes MEAN EVery Day

Libi: Omg 🤭

Libi: That’s a good one

Astrid: shE mIGHt taKe weeKENDS Off i dOnt KNow her theN

Libi: I’ve seen her on a few

Libi: Doesn’t seem like she does

Astrid: yOU got LUcky she iSnt YouR sisTER in the PLAY or ReaL liFE

Libi: Poor America

Libi: I wouldn’t say anything or think anything bad if she wasn’t mean to Bobby

Libi: or you, or just everyone

Libi: I know she has her own stuff but that’s not okay

Astrid: i likE AmeriCA

Astrid: wHENs she beinG murDEReD?

Astrid: & wHAT dOeS STUFF mean?

Libi: She likes you too 😄

Libi: She’s the 1st victim, how mean of me

Libi: like stuff in her personal life that would make her 😢 or 😡

Astrid: 😀 😃 😄 😁

Astrid: doES mR MullAN noT Like AmerICA oR dOeS shE NOt liKe him? 😆 😅 😂 🤣

Astrid: stUFF like JaKE not WaNTInG to BE heR BoYFriend

Astrid: ....

Libi: A bit of both

Libi: but I think they like annoying each other too, a 🤏

Libi: He likes her enough to cast her anyway

Libi: Yeah, but also stuff I don’t know, and the kinda stuff you wanna keep secret from everyone, you know?

Astrid: iF she So WASNT meAN she wOULD hAVE FRiENDS to TEll her SecreTS to & iF ShE CouLD TELL her SeCRETS To SomeONE she wouLDNT be AS mean

Astrid: 😵‍💫

Libi: That’s a good point

Libi: She’ll have to figure that out on her own though, I don’t think she’d like being told 😠😡🤬

Astrid: she wOULd haVE a meLTdoWn ✅☑️

Libi: Exactly

Libi: And she doesn’t pay attention in her social skills lessons so she doesn’t have good coping skills

Astrid: SoCiAL SkILLs iS v 😵‍💫

Astrid: BuT Im GlaD sheS nOT in OUR cLASS fOR iT

Libi: It sounds like Mrs Fifield is impressed with you though

Astrid: 🤞🤞

Astrid: i liKE thIS scHOOl

Astrid: [cue a rant about the school Ro sent her to when she was alive because imagine tbh, my child, autistic? NEVER]

Libi: That’s good

Libi: It’s important to be mostly happy at school, as we spend so much time here

Libi: And I like it too, it’s nice to all go to the same school, even if we’re in different years

Astrid: & !Now wE cAN HANG OUT moRE for tHE plaY!

Libi: 😄😄

Astrid: FRIDay @ 5 but 👀 FOr ME on wedNESdAY when mS hOWE is dOING reheaRSAl 😄😄

Libi: Wednesday after school in the gym and Friday @ 5

Libi: Got it

Libi: It’s gonna be fun

[club-roc]

The C&Me Report: Dispatch #   1

Author’s Forward

This is a work of friction, the turbid spew of a diseased imagination.  The characters, events, location, time of day, and yes even the fucking weather are all made up - except when they aren’t.  

That the submissive in the story maybe resembles someone in my past life is a bizarre coincidence that you shouldn’t read anything into.  The rumor that I may have based the -  selfish? disgusting? can we settle on sick? - narrator on myself is an unfortunate misunderstanding.  I am a considerate, thoughtful, kind, compassionate, altruistic, gentle, empathetic, loving soul - and I swear the wrath of a banshee working off a seven day drunk upon anyone who says different.

I hope you enjoy what I think is a novel approach to the old in-out.  For those of you who prefer a more traditional 3-step narrative of the form:

 boy meets girl (or whatever gender permutation gets you going)

 one paragraph (preferably less)

 boy fucks girl

this just ain’t gonna work for you.  Seriously.  But, if you choose to ignore this warning, for fuck’s sake don’t whine about it afterwards.  

One final note: if you do make it to the end, and your cursor is a short click away from registering one star, you should know that the banshee gets pissed off rather easily these days - just sayin’.

Happy trails.

Roc Daimonas

Sep. 2020

*          *          *

I have an ethical dilemma that I’m hoping that you can help me with.

Whether you come at it from a moral or legal perspective, these days non-consensual sex is kind of frowned upon.  The MeTooers are clear: she has to freely say “yes”.  Sounds easy, but sometimes Easy Street is paved with potholes.

Let’s start with the seemingly obvious: “yes” doesn’t get you off the hook if you mention that you’ve got proof that could have her swinging in Sing Sing. Nor, for that matter, any persuasive argument that includes an “or else I will … “ clause.  But what if it’s “or else I won’t”?

For example, you have front row tickets to the hot show that she’s dying to see.  Without a promise of action for afters, you won’t take her.  “Maybe (fill in her best friend’s name) is interested…?”  I think we might need a new category, “technically consensual but the guy’s a douchebag”.

Also obviously, if she’s drunk, her “yes” doesn’t mean shit.  But what if she’s sober, in fact hasn’t had a drink all day.  And she needs one, badly, sort of the way that after holding your breath for two minutes you need air, because she’s an alcoholic.  Sadly she’s broke, has nothing left to pawn, and has already been to the Plasma Donation Center twice this week.  Let’s say she loves bubbly and you have a bottle of White Star on ice.

If, under those circumstances, you tell her, “no nookie no party”, you know damn well that you’re going to get laid. (Pro tip: one glass, then sex, and only then finish the bottle).  You can get all moral on me, but she’s gonna do what it takes to get a drink, and if that’s by blowing somebody in the liquor store’s parking lot, oh well.  I’m thinking why not me, instead of some jerk who’s gonna sub a store-brand asti?

Seriously, I’m looking for feedback, let me know what you think.

BTW, I wouldn’t trade sex for a drink, I’m not that kind of asshole, and this isn’t that kind of story.  Rather, it’s actually cannabis that she wants, and I’m much worse of an asshole.  You see, I’m a sex addict, sub-category control freak, and I’ve been waiting patiently for a long time.

*          *          *

C called, Lydia was dead.  Apparently she passed out and knocked her 151 into a candle.  I hadn’t heard anything from C, hence nothing about Lydia, for about five years, but this seems less like news than the fulfillment of the inevitable.  Though on second thought, that she made it that long is impressive.

When she called, she was upset.  Not because they were friends - nobody was friends with Lydia, she saw life as 100% transactional.  No, C was upset because she was on her way to score reefer, “and I’d already given her my last $60” … could I help her?

“Sure no problem”, I told her, answered by a huge sigh of relief.  “I’ve got that much cash in my wallet, come by and get it - and don’t worry about paying me back”.

Oops.  Not exactly what she was fishing for.  “Ah, do you have any weed that I could have?”

Long.  Fucking.  Silence.  It’s been five years since I’d talked to her last, the day we broke up over - surprise! - her drug and alcohol problem. 

“Uh, Roc…”

“Let’s do this: come over for the $60.  Let’s at least get you covered on that, then you can score somewhere else.  I’ll think about the other”.

A little while later she’s on my sofa, smoking a pipe.  I have the cash and a small container in front of me.  “This is for you”, and I hand her the bills.  “You can also have this - BUT - one time only, never again.  This is about a week's supply, you can score something in that time.  Are we agreed - never again?”

Two things that I need to clarify - a week’s supply for me, if she’s on a roll, is probably about a 4 hour supply for her.  AND - if it gets them their fix, an addict will tell you anything that they think you want to hear.  

So of course, she was absolutely in agreement.  Some things never change.

And surprise!, surprise!, 24 hours later, guess who knocked on my door?

*          *          *

C no doubt spent the day coming up with all sorts of completely sensible reasons why I should give her more shit.  Most likely revolving on the fact that Lydia was the last person who would sell to her.   But she’s thrown off, I have a packed pipe on the table next to me, she can’t take her eyes off the prize, she can’t focus...I just let her stammer for a minute.  I ask if she wants the pipe?

Shit eating grin - hell yes!  I grab it and reach out towards her.  She takes it, but I don’t let go.   ‘You can have this one, no problem.  You want more, ‘present yourself’”.  Ancient code for “submit for kinky sex”.  She starts to object, I cut her off: “you can have none, one, or stand, your choice - do you understand your choices?”

Maybe she mumbles “OK”, so I let go and in no time she’s sucking down the pipe.  I get a couple beers while she’s busy, set one next to her, pop the top on mine and sip some brew.  Done with the pipe, she follows suit.   Between the weed and the booze, she relaxes, but after a bit starts starts fidgeting.  I wait for it.  Finally it pours out: “I don’t think this is a good idea”

I bust out laughing, she doesn’t see what’s so funny.  “You’re right, it’s an AWFUL idea, we just don’t agree on what’s the bad part.  So maybe we forget about it, huh?  Maybe you should just go home”.

Well, no, she doesn’t want that either…“Can’t I have some more?”

“It’s time for you to go, I’ll walk you to the door”.

She takes a deep breath, rises, and puts her hands on her head.  Her arms are in the wrong position, her legs aren’t nearly far enough apart … some things never change.  I pack the pipe.  “You want this?”, she says yes, eyes focused.  I spark the lighter and smoke it.  From her face, that’s not what she had in mind.

I pack another, walk over to her.  “First, if you want your fix, I get mine - is that understood?”  She nods.  I hold the pipe for her, spark the lighter, and long hit, all gone.  She’s holding it in, deep, and I continue, “second, anytime - and I mean ANYTIME - that you feel uncomfortable giving me what I want, just say, “take that shit and shove it where the sun don’t shine”.

Suddenly the tension’s broken, she cracks up, coughs, blows out the smoke, coughs a little more.  “You fuckerhead! - you owe me another!”

I smile.  “We’ll see.  But I’m serious.  Say that phrase and everything stops.”  She nods, but I’m not done.  “What you gotta realize is that I don’t really want to do this”.  Like Hell, but she doesn't need to know that. “You can say that anytime, BUT … once and done.  No more weed.  Ever”.  You can tell she’s not happy about that, but keeps it to herself.

I pack another, then tell her “this is a really good time to tell me that, because if you don’t walk away, I’m going to turn you into my slave.  For real.”

She’s heard that before, sarcastically says “of course you are”, tilts her head a little, mocking me with her face, her eyes.

“You heard your choices, tell me what it’s going to be”.  

To get their fix, an addict is going to tell you anything they think that you want to hear.

I hand her the pipe, tell her to use the can, have a cigarette, whatever, then get undressed and back in position.  “If you’re quick enough, I’ll pack another pipe”.  While she’s scurrying on her assignments, I try to find some rope.

*          *          *

She’s back in position, but instead of being naked, she’s got my robe on - and her socks.  Some things never change.

I pack a pipe, point out that she’s not quite undressed.  Eyeing the pipe, she tells me “brr, it’s chilly!”, her code for gimme the pipe, and let’s go to bed and fuck.  Well that ain’t gonna happen, so instead of giving it to her, I spark the lighter and smoke it myself.  She has a frustrated look on her face.

“Why don’t you turn the furnace on, and relax a bit.  When it’s warm enough, strip and return to position.  When you’re ready, I’ll get you another pipe”  She sticks out her tongue, turns up the furnace, sits, but the blower’s barely on before she’s lost the robe and is back in position.  I pack the pipe full enough that even she’s gonna need a few minutes, hand it to her.  While she’s working it, I look over the body that I once knew so well.

Five years of hard living has taken its toll, but she’s still a great looking lady.  Tall for a woman, long torso and average legs, she’s blonde, slender, tits in damn nice shape (hey - we’re all getting older, things ain’t the way they used to be, nothing’s wrong with that, but it doesn’t mean I can’t notice tits that gravity hasn’t found yet.)

She’s set down the pipe so apparently she’s done.  I walk behind her, tell her to cross her wrists, which she does it the wrong way - surprise! - which I correct, wrap the rope and tie it securely.  My feet push her legs further apart, I grab her hair and pull her backwards so she’s a little past the tipping point, take my free hand and caress her face, my lips find hers...

Our lips and tongues play as my hand finds its way to her breast, stroking the one, squeezing it, finding the nipple, pulling, twisting, back to main tittie and fondle some more, soon the other tit has my attention and it’s on to part deux.  Mission accomplished, my hand returns to her forehead, another cycle begins, this one ending at her navel. 

A couple more cycles and she’s kissing like she’ll die if something doesn’t happen, finally my hand finds her pussy, palpable heat rising from it...I touch it, she’s dripping wet ...fingers on either side of the clit, squeeze, the clitteral bud, engorged, twitches under the pressure, again and again....  She moans past our kisses, I slide the fingers in her slot…

Out again, slick as can be,  fingers strum her clit, right-left right-left right-right-left, the moan does not diminish, she’s begging me to fuck her…but the control freak in me is not ready yet, I play some more…My fingers find her snatch again and I jam them in, fast, over and over...the moan is lower as the orgasm has begun, her voice up and down as the O takes control…

Fingers out but the O continues, I strum her clit, her abs are so tight and she’s over the top again….suddenly I slap her oh so exposed pussy a half dozen times, her O just fucking explodes, she shrieks loud enough to wake a passed out banshee …

I set her down, exhausted.  I get ice water, give her a sip, she didn’t realize how thirsty she was.  I ask if she wants a smoke, or a fuck?  She perks up at fuck, “oh yes please fuck me, I am sooo horny”, so arms released, into the bedroom, onto the bed, a pillow under her ass…

I pull down my pants, off with my shorts, oh my I thought it was hard but this is impressive, it would a crime to lose this boner, and C is looking at it, can’t take her eyes off it, wants it, inside, so I climb onto her, give her pussy what it needs more than anything….

No more fooling around, dick slams into cervix and her abdomen erupts, instant orgasm, cunt even hotter and squeezing tight, won’t let go… I get an urgent message, dick to control center, situation critical, too much pressure, heat, we can’t take much more of this, we’re going to have to unload…

No.  I’m not in high school anymore, this doesn’t have to happen.  I pull the dick out, pre-cum dripping, trailing, C figures out something’s not quite right, OH NO PLEASE DON’T STOP PLEASE FUCK ME...and I jam it in, thrust as fast and hard as I can, she goes fucking nuts, my dick does the impossible, gets bigger, harder, and it’s that way with each thrust, reactors are critical, pumps overloaded, Captain she’s gonna blow!, and unlike on TV that’s what happens, hot jizz spews into eager pussy and can you say “supernova”?  Of course she can, but not now, not enough energy, ambition left to talk.  For the first time in five years, we embrace.

As usual, she’s out of bed first, runs to the john, back to me, hugs me...I wonder what she’s going to compliment first, after all it was a stellar performance...I figure she’s going to ask me to slap her pussy again next time...

“Can I have another beer and a pipe?” 

 Some things never change.

[fictionalnormalcy]

Face Amidst the Smoke Ch. 5

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1334 Characters: Astrid Hofferson, Hiccup Haddock Summary: Astrid is paired for a project with someone who she is definitely not eager to work with. Haddock has a reputation of being a bad student, just a bad role model in general. But in being forced to work with one of the worst seniors in the school, she comes to see what is under this bad boy’s exterior… and she may be getting in over her head.

Confronting

His eyes may as well have been on fire from how he glared at me. I knew, that for this month it would not be easy to get Haddock to do anything. I wasn’t going to let him sit by and do what little I could get him to do. Even I could get tired of constantly looking over someone’s shoulder. I looked away for a few seconds, just as the music stopped. Seeing a cap with a familiar logo laying in the back seat. When I stared back there was already a blade out and held within my vision. His fabled blade. 

A switchblade from the looks of it, a gleaming silver from its tip to the sheathe. He held it straight toward me, inches away from shooting upward and impaling my neck. He hadn’t struggled against my hold, instead his eyes seemed to flare even more as my grip tightened in fear. 

“So it’s not a rumor.” I managed to say. “You really do carry a blade on campus.”

“Considered an essential.” He said evenly. “Now, if you don’t want me to use this, I suggest you fucking let go of my wrist. You don’t see me touching you without consent.” 

I could have just challenged him. Who knows if he actually knew how to use that thing? Although, I was left to wonder why he even carried one at all. While he did dress ruggedly, it didn’t appear as if he were in a gang. My fingers loosened one by one, and as the contact broke, the blade flicked back. He tossed it to his other hand in a blink. 

“You’re ambidextrous.” I couldn’t help but note.

He smashed the cigarette on the dashboard before tossing it out the window. 

“So what?”

“It’s rare to meet someone-”

“You got what you wanted, let’s go to the library. You’re wasting precious time.” 

As I opened the door on my side, I couldn’t help but overhear his muttering. Little bitch can’t let someone enjoy a cig. I slammed my door first, then heard his close. He ruffled his hair a little more as we both rounded the vehicle. I started to forge ahead, heading for the main gate. As I looked to my left, I could see his faint shadow following me. 

“You know, it’s strange that your parents never had you make an email. You’re a senior now, most of us have had one since we were in junior high.”

“Ha, like my having an email is even a part of my parent’s concerns right now.” 

“So they never cared.”

“Hofferson, my parents stopped giving a fuck about me a while ago.” 

We stepped into the library and I pulled out my school ID. We would need one to check out a computer for the remaining hour, and I got the feeling Haddock didn’t even bother to bring his. There was hardly a need for it, if I could be honest. Everyone knew their identification number, and they were necessary for school events. By the time I got the plastic card scanned, he had gone for the first computer and was sitting down. I sat in the chair beside him and shifted so we could both watch the screen.

It didn’t take us an hour, but we made him an email. Mainly so we could send each other the sources we’d found and so we could work on the outline together. We needed three body paragraphs, one counter-argument, the intro. and conclusion. But so far all we had to come up with for the next week was a rough works cited. He set up the original document on his account, and shared it to my account once I typed in my info. As soon as we exited the school we both went our separate ways, but before he left my sight I told him that he should do more research.

He knew what he had to do in order to get his work done. My job in the meantime was to get my part done, and the extra load would be making sure he gets his done as well. He could do a thesis, finding sources and making sure they’re credible wouldn’t be difficult if he only put in the effort. While I waited for my bus, I pulled open the outline document on my cell phone. I typed in the email we had made, and clicked the share button. I sent him a quick text if he could try to work on a body paragraph and the conclusion for the outline, but there wasn’t an immediate response. 

I had no idea if he had work today, and I didn’t know how he’d react if I tried to call him again tonight. He had to know I would be pushing nonstop until something got accomplished. I knew he had a car, so he really could go anywhere. A senior with that luxury, who would’ve thought. I got home and strode into my room, immediately heading over to my bag and prying out my tennis racket. We had two games in the next week, and I needed what little practice I could do at home. 

The next door neighbors already knew I was a tennis player, so they’d had to get used the sound of me hitting the ball against the fence. I changed into some leggings and a loose t-shirt before making my way to the backyard. I opened my music playing app, connected it to the family portable speaker, and clicked on a playlist. After I did some stretches and a small jog, I clutched my racket. Bouncing a ball three times on the ground before I hefted it into the air. 

Later that evening, I finally got a text back from Hiccup. Not as late as last night, luckily it had been just as I’d gotten out of the shower. Heather had sent me some messages as well, but for now I looked at his.

Feel free to check the doc when you get the chance, is all the text said. 

I continued to run the towel through my hair as I clicked on my laptop. I had an idea of what I could do instead of running across campus each day or calling him nonstop until he he couldn’t ignore me. It’d mean I would have to travel across the city or go somewhere out of my comfort zone, but I promised myself I wouldn’t get off his back until we completed this project. It could also help if I got to know his parents. If I mentioned the project and its importance in front of them, they could push Hiccup to actually put in some effort. 

I went to Heather’s contact page and clicked dial while opening the works cited doc. 

“I appreciate you calling but you better make this quick. Mom says I have to be in bed by ten or I’ll have to find another ride to practice on Saturday.”

“How are you and Atali doing on the project?”

“Perfect. We’ve already submitted a topic and found three sources. Let me guess, with Haddock nothing’s gotten done. Didn’t even both to show up to class today.”

“I found out about the blade.”

“My freaking gods he actually has one. What did you do?”

“Got into his car. We wound up going to the library and getting something done.” 

“Well thank goodness you weren’t hurt. This is going to be a hectic month for you isn’t it?”

“Many a risk for being stabbed.”

I clicked on the links that he’d left on the page, his formatting was pretty well-done. He’d pasted about three, and there were already two from when I’d found one and he’d found another. I opened the links so I could read the articles.

“Knowing you Asti you haven’t gotten off his back.”

“No actually, I do have something to ask. Do you think you could get Dagur to do a favor for me?” 

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Sleep, Little Bird

By George deValier

Status: Completed One-shot

Human AU. Tino, Berwald and Peter are the perfect family. Things like this don't happen to people like them. But when they do, how are they supposed to accept it?

"Nuku, nuku, nurmilintu Väsy, väsy västäräkki Nuku, kun mie nukutan Väsy, kun mie väsytän."

"That's pretty," said Berwald. "What is't?"

Tino gazed down at the baby boy in his arms and smiled, leaning back into his husband's embrace. "It's a Finnish lullaby. My mother used to sing it to me."

"It's beautif'l." Berwald gently brushed his fingers across the sleeping baby's cheek. "Little Peter. He's beautif'l."

Tino nodded, unable to tear his eyes from their new son glowing in the light of the living room fireplace. Tino couldn't help but be a little bewildered, feeling the tiny chest move beneath his fingers… breathe in, breathe out. After making their way through countless lengthy and painful legal processes he and Berwald had finally achieved their dream of completing their family with a child. It had been difficult, but it was all made worth it when the most perfect baby boy in the world was placed in their arms. Their son. Tino smiled again when he felt Berwald kiss the top of his head. "And he's ours." Tino was rather awestruck by the thought.

"Congratulat'ns, Mama."

Tino giggled softly before remembering himself and elbowing Berwald. "Wait, why am I the Mama?"

Peter stirred slightly at the movement, a small cry falling from his lips.

"Ssh baby," whispered Berwald, gently stroking Peter's head. "List'n to yer Mama sing."

Tino glared over his shoulder at Berwald, but he continued to sing the lullaby anyway.

"Nukuta, jumala, lasta. Makauta, mariainen. Kuro kiisan silmät kiinni Anna unta aamuun asti."

Breathe in, breathe out. The beautiful baby slept on, peaceful, in the arms of the two proudest fathers on earth.

...

"What the heck," said Tino in confusion, stepping through the front door into a house quite different from the one he had left just a few hours ago. Every piece of furniture in the room lay toppled over, toys and boxes littered the floor, and the surround sound system blasted Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' at top volume from every speaker. "Berwald?" he shouted, unsure if he could be heard over the noise. He made his way down the hallway in trepidation. "Peter? Just what is…"

He was interrupted by a small blue and red blur rounding the corner ahead and charging straight towards him. "Watch out Mama!" the blur cried gleefully. No matter how many times he tried, Tino could not stop Peter from calling him that.

"Peter, why are you riding your tricycle inside?" asked Tino, shouting to be heard over the thrashing strains of Wagner as he jumped out of the way of the approaching red velocipede. He stared at Peter curiously as he passed. "And why are you wearing cardboard horns?"

"Papa and I are pillagering the village!" said Peter, smiling broadly.

"Huh? Pillaging? You don't even know what that means!" cried Tino. Suddenly, from behind him, came what could only be described as a loud war cry. Tino spun around to find Berwald standing in the kitchen doorway, also wearing cardboard horns and holding aloft a wooden spoon and a frying pan. Tino raised his eyebrows.

"Aha, Peter, we've caught a vict'm!" shouted Berwald.

"Yeah!" Peter jumped off his tricycle and charged at Tino, throwing his arms around his legs. "Now you have to give us all your stuff!" he cried, laughing wildly.

Tino blinked a few times in surprise. His husband was not usually the type of person to wear a cardboard hat and run around threatening people with kitchen utensils. "Berwald, what are you doing?"

Berwald shrugged. "Teach'n him 'bout our cultural hist'ry."

Tino shook his head but couldn't stop himself from laughing. Berwald did make quite an impressive Viking. Even with a frying pan.

"D'you think I look scary, Mama?" asked Peter, tugging on Tino's pants. He squinted as his makeshift helmet fell over one eye and plastered his blonde hair to his forehead.

Tino thought Peter looked like the most adorable thing in the world. He smiled. "You look like the scariest Viking I've ever seen," he said.

Peter grinned proudly. Tino wasn't sure that teaching his son to ransack villages, or living rooms, rather, was the correct education to be giving him at four years old. But Peter seemed to be having so much fun, that Tino decided it didn't matter.

"But I'm not giving you anything, barbarian!" Tino escaped from Peter's clutches and ran down the hallway with two shouting Vikings on his heels.

...

Peter pushed the food around his plate absently, resting his chin in his hand. He had barely eaten anything the entire night.

"Are you feeling all right, baby?" asked Tino, reaching across the dining room table to feel Peter's forehead. Peter pulled his head away irritably.

"M'fine," he mumbled into his hand.

Tino sat back, a little hurt. "You don't look fine," he said, dropping his fork heavily onto his plate.

"I'm not sick," said Peter sulkily.

"Well that's good." Tino looked sideways at Berwald who, as usual, was holding silent. Tino closed his eyes briefly. He had never liked eating in silence, though living with Berwald had made it a regular occurrence. But Peter usually had plenty say, the life of a seven year old schoolboy full of a hundred things to talk about. So it was unusual to find himself at a silent dinner table once again. Tino waited quietly for a moment more before saying, "Well, Peter, you know you can tell us if anything's wrong."

Peter just nodded and continued to stare at his plate.

Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence until Tino finally had enough and stood to clear the table. "Are you done then, if you're not going to eat that?"

Peter looked up at him, a worried expression on his face. "Mama, are we all going to hell?"

Tino nearly dropped the plate he held. "WHAT?"

"There's a kid at school who says that because you're both boys and you're my parents that you're going to hell and that I probably am too. He says it's in the bible. Is that true?"

Tino gaped open mouthed, completely at a loss for words. He looked at Berwald, who just shrugged. "You want'd him t'go to a religious school," he muttered.

Tino slammed the plate down on the table. "Well that is it. I am having words with that child's parents."

"Well?" asked Peter, looking up at Tino with an expression that broke his heart. Why was this something that seven year olds had to worry about?

"Baby, Papa and I aren't going to hell because we're both boys. Some people don't like anyone to be different, so they say nasty things like that. It doesn't make it true."

Peter bit his lip. He didn't look convinced. "But…"

"Vikings don't go t'hell," said Berwald simply.

"What?" asked Peter, looking up at Berwald.

"Well, we're Vikings. And Vikings go t'Valh'la."

"Where?" Peter eagerly sat up straighter.

Tino smiled. Berwald never said much. Somehow when he did, he always said the right thing. "Valhalla," Tino translated.

"What's Valhalla?" Peter asked, turning to Tino, open mouthed and fascinated.

"Valhalla is a place where Vikings go when they die. Beautiful warrior angels called Valkyries fly down and carry you away to this great big hall with all the food and drink you could ever want. And there's music, and dancing, and games, and beautiful serving girls…"

"Depending on yer pref'rence." Berwald winked at Tino, who rolled his eyes before continuing.

"And you get to live with your family forever and ever and ever."

Peter's face lit up. "Really? But..." he trailed off, his face falling. "I'm adopted. I'm not really a Viking."

"Nonsense," said Berwald emphatically. "Ye became a Viking when ye joined this fam'ly. Yer ours, and that means yer a Viking."

Tino had never seen Peter grin so widely. Laughing, he ruffled his son's hair and kissed his cheek. "So tomorrow you go tell that boy that you're a Viking, and you're not going to hell, you're going to Valhalla along with your Mama and Papa. Got it?"

"Yep!" Peter jumped up from the table, grabbing his plate as he went. "Need help with the dishes?"

A few hours later, Tino tucked Peter into bed. "So, you're not bothered anymore about what the kids at school might say about us?"

"Nuh-uh. I'll just tell them that I'm a Viking and I'm going to Valhalla!"

Tino laughed. He knew the road ahead would be difficult for Peter, having two fathers. But if this was enough for him to hold his head high for now, then that was something. "One day, baby, we'll all meet in Valhalla. Goodnight."

"Um, Mama?" said Peter as Tino stood to leave.

"Yes?"

"Will you sing me my lullaby?"

Tino smiled, turned, and sat back down by the bed.

"Nuku, nuku, nurmilintu Väsy, väsy västäräkki Nuku, kun mie nukutan, Väsy, kun mie väsytän."

Tino sang, stroking Peter's hair, watching him breathe - breathe in, breathe out - thinking how perfect this family was, how wonderful life could be, how unbelievably lucky they all were; until sleep finally pulled Peter under.

...

"Whatever possessed that boy to name the puppy Hana-Tamago. What does that even mean?" asked Tino, watching through the kitchen window as Peter chased the small white dog around the backyard. Peter had begun asking for a puppy in earnest only a few months earlier, just before his ninth birthday. They had not really considered it seriously, so Tino was a little surprised when Berwald turned up in the middle of Peter's birthday party holding a small ball of fluff with a big blue ribbon around its neck. Peter had fallen in love with the dog immediately, and the race to give her the craziest name imaginable was on.

"Don't know," said Berwald, walking up behind Tino and putting his coffee mug in the sink. "He's learnin' Japan'se at school."

"Well it sounds ridiculous." Tino had wanted to name the dog 'Charlotte' or something. That would have made sense. But Peter was adamant and she was, in the end, Peter's puppy.

"No more ridic'lous than 'Tino Väinämöinen'."

Berwald ducked as Tino turned and swatted at his head. "Oh and I suppose that's worse than 'Oxenstierna'?"

Berwald grinned and his eyes sparkled. "Why'd ye think we gave 'im my name and not yers?"

Tino opened his mouth to give a biting response about how his name was of deep cultural significance, but was cut off by a sharp, painful cry from the backyard. His stomach dropped and he immediately ran out the back door.

"Peter, what's wrong?" Tino dropped to Peter's side where he sat on the grass clutching his knee.

"I don't know," he panted. "My knee… I just fell, and it really hurts!"

"Let me see," said Tino, pulling Peter's hands gently away from his leg. He heard Berwald run up behind him. "Ah. It looks like you might have strained it a little. Let Papa carry you inside so you can rest it a little."

"I can walk myself!" cried Peter indignantly. Tino laughed in relief.

"Okay, okay. Come on, let's go and watch some cartoons, get you some painkillers, and we'll put an ice pack on that swollen knee."

Peter nodded and limped inside, Hana-Tamago at his ankles, Tino and Berwald following anxiously behind.

Tino kept an eye on Peter the rest of the evening, but he smiled and laughed and ate his dinner the same as any other night. Tino supposed the injury must have just been a small strain and wasn't anything worth worrying about.

"Shh," he said, tucking Peter in for the night. "It will stop hurting by the morning. Do you want me to sing you your lullaby?" Peter stared up at him petulantly.

"I'm nine, Mama, I'm way too old for that stuff now."

Tino raised his hands, backed away, and turned off the light, even as he tried not to laugh. "All right then, no lullaby from now on. Good night, Peter."

Later, Tino fell asleep, arm thrown over Berwald, content, and completely unprepared for what was to come.

"MAMA!"

Tino was out of bed before he realised he was awake. And Berwald was already ahead of him, rushing to Peter's room.

"MAMA! PAPA!"

Tino ran into Peter's room to find Berwald kneeling next to Peter's bed and Peter holding his knee, gasping, his face white. Tino's stomach fell to his feet and he rushed to Peter's side.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"It hurts!" cried Peter, his face contorted in pain. "Mama, it HURTS!"

Berwald stood, opened the cupboard door, and pulled out Peter's jacket. "Takin' him to hospital."

Tino just nodded, feeling the panic start to rise.

...

Tino's panic continued to rise the entire drive to the hospital. Peter was obviously in tremendous pain, and his knee had swollen enormously. Even though Tino knew that Berwald was driving as fast as he was able, he had to restrain himself from screaming at him to go faster. It was agonising… Peter's pain was his pain, and Tino was terrified.

Tino rushed into the emergency room, Berwald carrying Peter behind him. "Hello, please, it's my son," Tino blurted out to the receptionist behind the counter. "His knee, it's swollen… he fell this afternoon… please, he's in pain…"

The receptionist nodded and called over a nurse. "Bring him through, let's have a look." She opened the side door and Tino went to enter behind Berwald. "Wait." The nurse blocked them in the doorway.

"What is it?" asked Tino, confused.

"Who's this?" The nurse looked up disdainfully at Berwald.

"'m his father," said Berwald coldly.

"I thought you were the boy's father," said the nurse, glaring at Tino. Tino glanced sideways at Berwald to find him looking back, and Tino knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Um," said Tino. "We're both his fathers." The nurse raised her eyebrows in alarm and Peter let out a sharp cry. "Please, he's in pain, can we deal with your stupid prejudice after we get some help for my son!" The nurse stared in shock, Berwald looked rather impressed, and Tino felt a little stunned that he'd actually come out with that.

"Only the boys legal guardians are allowed through with him," said the nurse huffily. "I assume you have proof?"

"Proof? What?" Tino didn't have Peter's adoption certificate or anything… he'd hardly thought of needing it.

"He's got m'surname," said Berwald. "That good enough?"

"Fine. You can come through. You," said the nurse to Tino, "Stay here."

"Fine, whatever, just take him through, please!" Berwald glanced at him painfully, curiously, but Tino just nodded and motioned him through.

"Wait," cried Peter as Berwald carried him into the examining room. "Wait, Mama, come with me! Mama!"

"It's okay, baby, I'll see you real soon," said Tino, even as the door was shut in his face. He took a shaky breath, turned and found the entire waiting room staring suspiciously at him. Trying desperately not to cry, Tino took a seat and waited, his heart breaking as Peter's cries rang in his ears.

...

"But… he just fell. It's nothing, he just fell in the backyard and strained his knee."

The doctor nodded understandably. Too understandably. "I'm sorry. Osteosarcoma can lie undetected for a long time. It is quite common that these things are detected like this."

Tino was growing angry. The doctor was not understanding him. Tino stared past her at a truly awful painting of a river scene on the wall behind her desk. "No," he said, frustrated. "It can't be cancer. You don't understand, he's perfectly healthy…" Tino broke off as Berwald took his hand and squeezed it. The doctor waited a moment before she continued.

"I'm afraid Peter will have to stay here in hospital for now. We need to put him on chemotherapy immediately."

"And then?" asked Tino. He kept his eyes on the terrible painting behind the doctor's head. "He will be all right then, yes? Then we'll be able to take him home."

The doctor took too long to answer. "It is very early. We will have to wait and see."

Tino wanted to scream, he wanted to throw his chair through the window, he wanted to tell the doctor she was wrong about everything and that by the way she had absolutely no artistic taste whatsoever. But Berwald spoke before Tino had a chance to do any of that. "Tino. Peter's been alone fer a while now. Maybe ye should go back to him."

Tino did not wait for the doctor to speak before he stood and walked out of the office.

The first thing Peter said when Tino walked into his room was, "I want to go home." Tino nodded, his heart breaking at the sight of his son looking so small on a bed surrounded by cold and unfamiliar blinking machines. He took Peter's small hand in his.

"We will baby, soon, I promise."

"Papa sang me your lullaby," said Peter, his voice quiet and slow from the pain-killing medication. It was obviously taking him an effort to stay awake.

"Did he?" Tino brushed Peter's hair from his slightly damp forehead. How could the doctor be right... how could this be happening... how could Peter be happy and healthy and perfect one day then be lying here in a hospital bed the next?

"Yeah, but he wasn't very good at it. Don't tell him I said that."

Tino laughed shakily. "I won't."

"Will you sing it for me?"

Tino nodded and clasped Peter's hand firmly, brushed his forehead gently, watched his chest rise and fall. Breathe in, breathe out. He sang the old, familiar lullaby as Peter fell asleep.

"Nuku, nuku, nurmilintu Väsy, väsy västäräkki Nuku, kun mie nukutan Väsy, kun mie väsytän."

...

Worst possible scenario. Everything they had feared. The end of the world. The chemo wasn't working. There was nothing anyone could do to stop the cancer spreading through Peter's body. There was nothing Tino and Berwald could do but hope and trust the doctors. Nothing. Nothing. There was nothing they could do.

Tino stood at the sink, drying a plate with a dishcloth and staring out the kitchen window. He had been drying the plate for ten minutes. He wasn't sure he could stop. Berwald walked into the kitchen behind him. This was one of the few times they had both been home since Peter had first been admitted to hospital, and Tino felt like he was drowning in the silence.

"Tino." Tino did not respond. "Tino. Are ye ready t'leave?"

Tino nodded, then shook his head, then just continued staring motionless out the window.

"Tino..."

"I need to talk about if he's not okay," said Tino suddenly, quickly. He could almost hear Berwald tense up behind him.

"He'll be okay."

"Please," said Tino, pressing too forcefully against the plate as he ran the dishcloth over it. "I need to talk about..." He heard Berwald turn to leave, and Tino felt an irrational rage flood his body. He paused, silently cracked, then slammed the plate against the ground as hard as he possibly could. The shattered pieces flew across the floor. "What is wrong with you?" he shouted, spinning around to glare furiously at Berwald. Berwald just looked back at him like he had gone mad before continuing out the doorway. Tino followed, white with anger.

"Don't you worry at all? How do you keep up this perfectly calm facade of yours? How are you not furious, how are you not devastated, how are you..." How do you stay so strong when I keep falling apart? Tino didn't say it, but in the end, that was all he meant. "What's wrong with you?" Tino shouted again. "Aren't you scared?"

"I'm terrified!" Berwald suddenly shouted, catching Tino immediately off guard. Berwald never shouted. "I'm so terrified that I can't stand it, I can't see straight, I can't bear this! I've never been so goddamned afraid in my entire life!" Berwald stopped yelling, fell back against the wall, placed his head in his hands. "I'm s'posed to protect him. It's my job to protect him. But I can't do a thing."

Tino felt a wave of guilt. He should have noticed earlier. Berwald was dealing with this in the only way he knew how. Silently. Tino suddenly wanted to reassure him, wanted Berwald to know it was okay, wanted Berwald to know that he understood. But he didn't have anything to say. There really was nothing to say. So he just nodded, went and took his jacket from the coat stand, and opened the front door. "Let's go. We'll be late."

Berwald understood.

...

Damn hospital cafeterias. Always took an hour to find someone to serve you. Tino stepped out of the elevator with two coffees and a raspberry lemonade just in time to be very nearly run down by an out of control wheelchair. He turned to yell angrily at the crazy wheelchair occupant, only to realise that there were actually two people sitting in the contraption. Two people wearing cardboard horns.

"Mama!" cried Peter as Berwald turned the chair and began barrelling back up the hall. Peter was sitting on Berwald's lap, holding up a rolled up magazine like a weapon, looking happier than Tino had seen him in weeks. "Join us, Mama! We're pillaging the medical ward!"

A cleaner paused as she passed on her way to the elevator, looking from the wheelchair to Tino with a confused and amused look on her face. "Are they yours?"

Tino smiled uncontrollably. Damn. But wasn't he the luckiest guy in the world. "Yeah. Yeah, they're mine."

...

"I'm sorry."

Tino couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't think. He was numb.

"We could try amputation, but… it's too late. The cancer has already spread to his lungs. There is nothing more we can do."

Tino stared unseeing at the awful painting behind the doctor's head. Boats. Boats on a river. God, what a truly awful painting. Eventually he nodded. "Thank you. Can we take him home?"

Beside him Berwald broke down and wept.

...

"Mama. I remember you telling me. About Valhalla."

"Yes, baby. Where all the Vikings go."

"And you said there were beautiful warrior angels. And music, and dancing. And that you live with your family..."

"... forever. Yes, baby, that's right."

"Well, I'll wait for you there, okay? I'll wait for you both in Valhalla."

"Yes. One day, baby, we'll all meet in Valhalla."

There was no more anger. The crushing grief would come. But in this moment there was only the fire crackling warmly, the cushions soft beneath them, Hana-Tamago sleeping quietly on Peter's feet, Peter lying in Tino and Berwald's arms. Their hands entwined and resting lightly against Peter's chest, feeling it rise and fall weakly, feeling every small breath in, every time his breath left him.

Breathe in, breathe out.

And Tino remembered another moment they had held their son in their arms like this, long ago, when all the time and potential in the world lay before them. It felt like yesterday. But it was a lifetime ago. A beautiful, wondrous, incredible, miraculous, perfect lifetime ago.

"Mama. Sing me my lullaby?" The words were quiet, slow, breathless. Breathe in, breathe out. Tino kissed Peter's head, felt Berwald's arms tighten, sang the words of the old familiar lullaby as Peter took a shuddering breath in.

"Nuku, nuku, nurmilintu Väsy, väsy västäräkki Nuku, kun mie nukutan, Väsy, kun mie väsytän."

Beneath their hands Peter's chest rose, fell, shuddered. His breaths came slower, started to falter. The beautiful boy slept on, peaceful, in the arms of the two proudest fathers on earth.

"Nukuta, jumala, lasta. Makauta, mariainen."

Breathe in...

Kuro kiisan silmät kiinni Anna unta aamuun asti."

...breathe out.

The End.

.

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[kibanafuji]

tell us a little about your childhood! after all, everyone wants to know the success story of galar’s toughest trainer!! :0

EVENT: ask 182.

“heh! well, wouldn’t be that ‘ard to find info on it, but what better hearin’ it from the ponyta’s mouth, right?”

[182] cracks her knuckles and gives her arms a stretch.

“so, picture me, a twee 8 year old, tryin’ to cope with th’ fact that my poor big brother was gone. i was right sad. and right determined, too! he was going to enter the gym challenge, and i was determined to make it so!”

“now, 'course, you may be wonderin’ 'ow that would work, and if you are, i’d call you dumb. obviously, i knew what to do. just 'ad to walk up to the 'eadmaster of our school– he was gonna endorse rai and that– and throw the biggest strop i’d ever thrown in my life, prove myself in battle, and then make 'im let me go instead of rai! and that i did. blew 'im away, even! but, 'course, i was too young to legally enter– ’s why he was hesitant about it– but i’d already thought of that too. was never my intent to enter the challenge as ME, after all.

i studied and studied and studied all of rai’s notes, watched recordings of 'is practise battles, everythin’ i could get my 'ands on– my imitation of 'is battle style by the time i went to go convince the 'eadmaster was damn near perfect! an’ since we were both kids, disguisin’ myself as 'im was pretty simple– all i 'ad to do was keep quiet and tuck my hair up in my cap. worked out perfect, no one questioned 'ow quiet i was 'cos of that red bloke an’ his whole 'silent champion’ thing. just looked like i idolized 'im or summat.

'course, i was quick to prove to 'em that pretty soon, red would be the one idolizin’ ME– swept down galar’s gyms left and right! me and leon 'ad the whole region’s eyes watchin’ us– i made it clear we were rivals, after all. didn’t need to tell 'im or anyone else in words, i just battled 'im every time i saw 'im!

… unfortunately, though, i just couldn’t beat the guy. no matter what i did. put up a good fight, though, you better believe that! i nearly 'ad im time and time again! after one of my earlier losses, actually, i… slipped up a tad. was real sad about it, see, and discouraged. thought i wasn’t gonna make rai proud, thought i was gonna tarnish 'is name, so i just sort of… sat down on the ground and started cryin’.

he’s a good guy, leon. came over, tried to comfort me– even used one of 'is revives on haribo so she could come over an’ try t'cheer me up, but… wasn’t really payin’ attention to leon. just ended up ventin’ to haribo once she was up and at 'em again. ended up mumblin’ 'bout my big brother, and that was 'round the point he started askin’ questions. see, it ain’t like your voice 'as anythin’ to do with your gender, what tipped 'im off that somethin’ might be goin’ on was me referrin’ to 'im by name– woulda sounded like i was speakin’ in third person for no reason, after all.

i told 'im the deal. the whole deal. what i was doin’, who i really was and that. 'ad no choice, really– it’d be more sus if i tried to ignore 'im. mighta thought i 'ad nothing to do with the real raihan at all. anyways, he and sonia promised they’d keep my secret. ended up bein’ bessies from then on!

anyways, like i was sayin’, by the time we’d gotten to the semifinals, leon was well aware i was imitatin’ rai– borrowed 'is name, battlin’ style, all that. and we both made it to the last round, obviously– and then we battled, and…

it was a tough one. most of it, it was anyone’s game, but right towards the end… i knew i’d lost. wasn’t any turnabout in store for me, i plain and simple wasn’t gonna win. and i got real damn sad. 'cos… i wanted to make rai proud, and do good by 'im, and become the champion usin’ his techniques. but i was about to lose my chance. if i couldn’t beat leon right then, i thought i’d probably never be able to beat 'im.

but…

… leon’s really a nice lad. always 'as been. he coulda won right then an’ there, my last pokemon was 'ardly standin’ anymore, but he recalled 'is pokemon and told me we were gonna 'ave a do-over.

obviously we weren’t supposed to be doin’ what we were doin’, but seein’ as both of us agreed on that, and that the finals couldn’t 'appen until one of us won, there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop us. wasn’t any rules against it.

we both 'ealed up our pokemon, and went back out– but see, leon didn’t just say we should 'ave a do-over. he told me… i should try battlin’ as me– as ■■■– rather than as raihan. that he wanted to see what it was like.

if i lost, i’d be out of the running anyway, and if i won, well, i think anyone can agree i’d more than proven myself worthy of participatin’ even though i was technically too young. so when we went back out, i didn’t just battle usin’ my own strategies. i took my bat and my pitcher’s mitt, the ones rai gave me on my birthday, and i took my cap off just long enough to let my 'air down. and i told that whole stadium– the whole world, even!– who i really was!

and then. and then! i won! i beat leon! i beat leon, and then i beat everyone in the finals, and then i beat the champion! and you know what? i think i never should 'ave tried imitatin’ his battling style. sorta had to pretend to be 'im, but that doesn’t mean i couldn’t battle my own way. … well, i guess i also could’ve just waited 'til i was old enough and then i wouldn’t have needed to imitate 'im at all, but i couldn’t wait two years for that. he was goin’ to become champion the same year he turned 10, and i wanted to make sure a’ that. was just a kid then, me, can’t blame me for bein’ so 'asty.

… oh, and… for the record, i don’t think there was anything wrong with rai’s technique, his strategy or anything. no, i know it for sure. the only problem was that… it wasn’t HIM using his own techniques. it was ME, focusin’ too 'ard on tryin’ to be perfectly, exactly like him all the time that 'eld me back, made me weaker– i was still strong, but not strong enough to beat leon. not when he’d been true to 'imself and didn’t need to focus on bein’ someone he wasn’t.”