#also barely related but i feel kinda embarrassed for some reason admiting that i am an adult that enjoys bluey even though its fully

[caruliaa]

see the thing about the adults enjoying bluey thing is that part of me really enjoys it seeing both a show meant for very little kids but isnt talking down to them and also seeing an acknowledgment that the even if something is meant for a much younger audience that doesnt mean it lacks quality (and btw part of it is having a seven year old sister but i. am infact onr of those adults who enjoy bluey) but also as someone who was in the target audience (young child) for my little pony when i enjoyed it i am shaking like a wet dog a bit begging you people to please just be normal about this and not ruin it for the target audience okay thank you.

[thestarrynightslover]

I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 1

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 3,666

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, and drug abuse. 

Summary: What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone?

You can find Part 2 here.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first Harvey Specter fic and I’m obviously quite unsure about it, lol. This might’ve ended up like one big mess, cause I tried to combine a bunch of Harveys I wanted to see. The perfect recipe for disaster, right? Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You’d barely stepped out of the elevator when you were met by your secretary that morning. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Morning, (y/n/n). You’ve got an emergency meeting with Jessica today. Gonna give you the schedule on the way there.” Lucy stated, leading you on the opposite way to Jessica’s office.

“Oh, I got the memo; company’s under attack again. She wants me on the frontlines this time. Louis is probably running around saying ‘We’re at war, people, war!!!’, or something like that. But why aren’t we headed towards the boss’ office?”

“Apparently, uh, she wants y’all to convey at Harvey’s office.” She said hesitantly, as if afraid of your reaction.

“Are you kidding me? It’s the first hour of the morning and she wants me to go see that smug face of his?” You pouted childishly.

“Smug and hot, you mean.” Lucy corrected you, getting an outraged look from you in response, as she usually would by saying anything positive about Specter.

“Shush,” You said, motioning for her to stop talking, “ one shall not praise Harvey Annoying Specter around me.” You stated full of obstination, but the younger woman just laughed you off and said:

“Well, here we are. I guess I’ll just have to send you an e-mail with your schedule, since, once again, we spent our schedule minutes of the day talking about “the enemy”.” She mocked with gestures and everything this time. That Lucy really was a piece of work, she timed the whole thing perfectly, in a way that you couldn’t even repudiate her insinuations because you were already standing in front of Specter’s office door.

Not long after you had entered and Jessica had officially started the strategy-meeting, though, all eyes in the room turned to you, as your phone started ringing in your back pocket. "Shit! I'm- I'm so sorry, guys, I guess I-"

"Can you please take your job seriously for once in your life, (y/l/n)?" You heard Harvey Pain-In-The-Ass Specter rudely remark, as you tried to swallow your embarrassment.

“Well, like I was trying to say, I’m sorry. Gonna turn it off right now, won’t happen again.” You said, directing your apologetic look to Jessica.

“You should just go ahead and answer it, could be something important.” She calmly told you.

“Especially now that you’ve already interrupted our work.” Specter chipped in again, which just gave you more fuel to answer the goddamn phone.

“Hello, yeah this is her.” You confirmed to the man on the phone, while taking a few steps towards the corner of the room. “What??? Are you sure? Oh my God! O- okay, just tell me which one and I’ll be there as soon as possible! Right, thank you.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to understand what made you look so distressed. Except his, of course.

“Wait a second. Are you leaving right now?” He asked with a mix of annoyance and irritation in his voice.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jessica, but this is a family emergency. I have to go.”

“Well, I just hope you know that this doesn’t look good for you, (y/n).” She said, voice inexpressive.

“I do and, honestly? I couldn’t care less about that right now.” You firmly told her, while hoping your career wasn’t over by the next morning.

“I hope everything goes well for you and your family, (y/n). If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” Louis told you with that childish smile of his. Jesus, even in a moment like this, he tried to flirt with you.

“Thank you, Louis. That’s very kind.” You faked a tiny smile.

“Unbelievable.” 

“What?” You asked, turning back to face Harvey.

“Your firm is under attack and you’re leaving because of some stupid family crap?” Was he even serious?

“Precisely. And I don’t really care what your thoughts are on it. Our priorities are clearly very different.” Who the hell did he think he was to say anything about your family’s issues?

“Well, that shouldn’t matter because, the minute you walk in here, through those elevators out there, you’re supposed to leave all things personal behind.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry that I’m not some heartless lawyer like you, who’s just in it for the petty fights in the name of money-making.” Shit. You needed to get the hell out of there before you said something else to make Specter wanna kick you out himself. So you did. Stormed out like there was no tomorrow, leaving nothing but the very shocked Donna, Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Rachel behind. Oh, yeah, and a very pissed-off Harvey Specter.

Okay, maybe you were a little too harsh, but given the place you needed to go, to do what you needed to do, you didn't care about Harvey, your job, or anything else.

---

It was much later on that same day, around dinner time, that you heard a soft knock on your door. But how could someone be at your door, if the doorman downstairs hadn't announced any visitors? Were you dreaming? Well, the day had been so tiring that that wasn't exactly impossible… Nonetheless, you made your way to the door, whilst holding your very needy three-year-old nephew in your arms. Not that you could blame Henry after the day he’d had.

Since you weren’t expecting anyone, it was reasonable to believe that, whoever it was, was going to be a surprise. But not in a million years would have you ever guessed that Harvey Specter was the one knocking at your door. Especially considering what had happened at the firm earlier. How did he even know your address?

“Hi, (y/l/n). I didn’t know you had a kid.” He stated with a bit of surprise of his own, pointing to the little boy you were carrying.

“No, uh, I don’t have any.” You managed to say, trying to control your shocked expression. “This is my nephew.” You clarified again, a little more at ease this time.

“My name’s Henry. What’s yours?” You heard your nephew ask with his cute child-voice.

“Harvey. It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Harvey told the boy, holding out his hand for him to shake, as a sweet smile came to his lips.

“Is he your friend, auntie (y/n/n)?” Henry asked you hesitantly, before making a move. The Don’t Talk to Strangers Rule must’ve kicked in his mind. 

Before answering him, you hesitated a little bit yourself, though. Was Harvey your friend? Obviously not, but if he came to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, it was probably because of something important. Work-related, of course. Which meant you’d have to let him in, so you settled for what would be the easiest classification for a three-year-old.

“Yeah, bud, he is my friend from work.” Hearing that, something in Specter’s eyes changed, you didn’t really know what, though.

“Well, then, can he come play with us?” He gave you such a cute look, that you almost said yes right on cue. But you obviously couldn’t. 

“You’d have to ask him, but I’m sure he has a lot of other, more important, things to do now.” You tried to explain to the little boy, giving Harvey a look. But you didn’t get too far, as the lawyer quickly said:

“Of course I wanna go play with you! That is if your auntie’s okay with that…” Now he was mocking you, that was the only explanation.

“Can we play with him, then, auntie (y/n/n)? Please, please, please?” God, what horrible thing could’ve you possibly done to deserve this particular punishment?

“Um, I guess... If he really has nothing better to do-” Harvey didn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“I really don’t.” He said, shooting you and Henry a bright smile that you’d never seen before.

“Okay, then, come in. Please disregard the mess, I got this stuff to make dinner, but someone just won’t detach, right, mister?” You asked your nephew with fake annoyance in your voice, as you tickled his sides a little bit. He just laughed at you. Though what really caught your attention was the fact that Harvey, too, was chuckling lightly at the scene, as he started picking up your groceries’ bags from the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you, what else?” You gave him a weird look because, well, it was a weird situation. Maybe he noticed your discomfort because he added: “You look tired, so I’ll help you by making dinner and putting the rest of these away.”

“You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell that the All-Mighty Harvey Specter was gonna get domestic for you, of all people. Since he didn’t bother to answer, you went on: “First of all, what was it that you really came here to do, hum? And, second, I don’t need your help with anything.” Normally you tried to be kind to everyone, but, then again, Specter wasn’t exactly your normal kind of guy.

“Well, first of all,” he started in a tone of mockery, “that was rude! Look at the example you’re setting for little Henry!” Oh God, as much as you hated to admit it, he was kinda right, because you had completely forgotten about the little boy still cradled in your arms. “Second, we can talk about the reason why I came here later,” after your nephew’s asleep, was implicit in his speech, “third, it looks like you do need some help. And, for your luck, I happen to be a very good cook when I want to.”

“But-” You could barely begin your sentence, as Harvey sharply cut you off:

“You see, buddy,” he started, motioning to Henry this time, “the quicker we get your auntie on board with the game plan, the quicker we’ll get to eat and go play together!” Son of a bitch! Using a child to get to you…

“Can we please, auntie? Please?” How could you not crack after that pleading?

“Fine, but I swear I’ll make you pay if we wake up with food poisoning tomorrow, Specter.” You told him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all of your bluntness.

“Oh, trust me, (y/l/n), you won’t. This will be the best meal you and the young man here will ever have in your entire lives.” He said cockily, but without the usual arrogance level, if that even makes sense.

A few hours and a really great dinner later, you and Henry couldn’t help but snicker shamelessly at Harvey’s ridiculous faces, as the three of you played a game on your living room’s floor. Trying to catch your breath from your giggles, you glanced up at the clock and realized that it was way too late for your nephew to be out of bed like that. So you broke up the game, announcing:

“It’s bedtime for you, Mr. Henry.” You watched the faces of the pair turn into ones of pure disappointment, as they prepared to pout.

“Just a little longer, auntie (y/n/n)! please!” The little boy started.

“Yeah, auntie, just a little longer! Please?” This time it was the grown man, one of the toughest Wall Street lawyers.

“As moved as I am by your synchrony, guys, the answer is a big no. C’mon, bud, let’s go brush your teeth. And then straight to bed. So say bye to Harvey, and thank him for being so nice to us tonight.” He looked between you and Specter as if still hoping for a hail Mary of some sort.

“Bye, Harvey.” He sounded so sad, but then he smiled brightly again, as he repeated what you’d told him to say word by word: “And thank you for being so nice to us tonight.” Hearing that, both you and Harvey chuckled lightly at the young boy, who quickly added: “Will you come see us tomorrow too?”

“Uh, we’ll, uh, we’ll see about that, okay, little man?” He tried to let Henry down slowly but, watching the boy’s expression become a sad one instantly, he added: “It’s just because both your auntie and I have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I’ll do my best, okay?” That was definitely a side of Harvey you’d never seen before, he had even bent down to be on your nephew’s level.

“Okay.” Henry said quietly, seeming to be a little happier, too.

“Okay, then let’s just go upstairs already.” You took the boy’s hand to guide him towards the spare bedroom’s bathroom, all the while shooting Specter a look that told him to wait for you a little longer.

“I’ll wait for you down here.” He said, proving he understood what your eyes tried to transmit.

So you headed upstairs with your nephew and, after a good fifteen minutes of brushing Henry’s teeth, helping him into his PJs, and tucking him in, you finally managed to come back to the living room, where you found Harvey looking through some of your photos displayed on the sideboard. For a minute or two, you just watched him. It wasn’t that you liked what you saw or anything. It wasn’t. It was more like postponing the weird conversation you two were bound to have, because, after all that had happened in those few hours, the atmosphere was, at very least, a strange one. But, almost as if he’d felt your gaze on his back, the lawyer in him was switched on, and he interrupted your thoughts by saying:

“Ah, you’re back. Good, because we need to talk.” You just motioned for him to follow you into your home office. But both you and Harvey looked so informal to be in that kind of environment, that you just indicated the small couch on the wall opposite to your desk for you to take your seats in.

“So, uh, before you even say anything, I wanna thank you for being so kind tonight,” a small smile came to your lips, as you remembered, not only the evening but how your nephew had used almost those exact same words, already imitating you, a little earlier. Specter smiled too, you noticed. “and I also wanna apologize. If you came here to talk to me… I must’ve made you waste a lot of time, huh?” You tried with a half-smile this time, as embarrassment started taking over you.

“What? No, of course not! I'm pretty sure that I told you I didn't have anything better to do, didn't I?" He calmly asked with a smile.

"Yeah, but I'm not buying it. You're Harvey Specter, isn't that what you're always saying? And Harvey Specter always has something better to do, isn't that right?" You shot back in a mockery tone, regaining your confidence.

"Well, maybe. But, not today. So don't apologize, and don't thank me. I'm the one who should be thanking you, I had a really good time tonight." Okay, now you were shocked. He had a good time?

"Uh, okay, um, so... What was so urgent that you had to come here in the middle of the night?" You nervously ranted, while tugging your hair behind your ears. He just stared at you, so much so that you almost repeated your question.

"Um, yeah, about this morning… That's why I came here…" You were already guessing that that would come up eventually, but it was the topic of your conversation? "I know that you and I always had our differences, and maybe even some rivalry-"

"Some rivalry? Dude, I'm just a junior partner, and ever since I started on that firm you've been persecuting me-"

"I wouldn't say persecuting…"

"Oh, you wouldn't?"

"Not since you made junior partner anyways. Now it's just a healthy rivalry between work friends…" He tried to use what you’d told your nephew earlier. 

"Oh, so you do admit you were persecuting me when I was an associate, huh?"

"Shit." He muttered quietly, as you watched him with a victory smile on your lips. "You know what? Hell yeah, I did persecute you when you were an associate." Hearing that blunt admission of guilt, you just couldn't find anything to say. “You wanna know why? I did that because, from the first time I saw you doing your job, I saw this very thing that I see now: you kicking ass, you think I wanted to admit this to you? I’ll answer it myself: no, I didn’t. The only reason why it happened is that you led me to it.” He blurted out, completely knocking you off your socks.

“So, um, you treated, you treat me like shit because, um, because I’m good?” You asked, still unsure of what to think about his confession.

“Well, that was part of it, sure. So, you see, I could understand it when you weren’t particularly thrilled at the perspective of working with me. But, this morning, you said that I’m a heartless guy who only cares about money… Is that really what you think of me?” This time he sounded genuinely sad? When Harvey said that he’d come to your apartment to talk about that morning, you thought he was gonna reprimand the shit out of you for disrespecting him ⎯ your sort of boss, a senior partner ⎯, but, apparently, he was asking about it on a more personal level. A level you’d never really thought played a part in your relationship with him.

“Oh, Harvey…”

“Be honest, please. I don’t want your pity. You don’t even know me all that well, so don’t try to minimize anything. I can take it.”

“That’s not what I was gonna do. And, trust me, you’re probably the last person in the world I’d pity.” You told him with a sly smile. “You’re right. I don’t know you all that well. Or, at least, I didn’t this morning. But I do know that you’re not heartless. Also, I was really out of line then, I’ve seen you fighting tooth and nail for a lot more than just money in that firm. You’re loyal to your firm and friends like no one else and, tonight, I watched you sitting on the floor and playing with a little boy. And, trust me, that meant more to him than you’d ever know, especially after today… Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is that I was so damn wrong and that I’m sorry. I’d gotten some pretty nerve-racking news beforehand, not that that’s an excuse but...” You told him, meaning every word and trying hard to show how much you regretted your previous actions.

“Wait, what news?”

“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about, really.” You tried to brush him off.

“Oh, c’mon! You said all those nice things about me, but when it comes to your life and your problems you still don’t trust me, isn’t that right?” His tone was sharply inexpressive, but his eyes showed he was actually hurt.

“What are you talking about? Oh my God, Harvey! I’ve relied on you for a number of cases that I really cared about! I let you in on my apartment! I let you spend an entire night around my nephew! Of course, I trust you!”

“Then what the hell is the problem? You think I’m not gonna give a damn about your family issues? Is that it? Because I am literally begging you to tell me about them!”

“I don’t wanna tell you because I don’t want you, or anyone else on the firm, to think that I’m some pathetic little girl who uses her family issues as an excuse to get out of a tough fight.” You confessed in a lower tone, slightly embarrassed, just hoping he would understand and stop poking. “Things are very different when you’re a woman, you know…”

“I would never think that about you. Family is important. Especially if it’s made of people like Henry…” He said, reassuring you, even though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Besides, you said you trust me, so you need to trust me when I say that I wouldn’t betray you by telling people about your problems. I’m not here as your boss, (y/n). I just wanna help you.” He sounded so sincere and, if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda really needed to vent.

“Okay, um, where to start? I have two sisters: Henry’s mother, Kat, and a fifteen-year-old, Lisa. I’m the older one of all three of us. Lisa’s sick, like very sick, so my parents, who are both retired, are with her at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, to try and get her better. In the meantime, Kat was supposed to go to college, as well as care for her son, between my parents and me, she wouldn’t even need to provide for them or anything. But, a while ago, she overdosed for the first time. That’s when we found out about her addiction. We’ve already tried a million different things but nothing works. So, my parents and I threatened to make her lose her parental rights over Henry, hoping that it’d be a wake-up call for her, but it backfired. She just took the boy and disappeared, then today I get that call, from the police department, saying that she was in custody for drug distribution and endangering the well-fare of a minor. They asked me to go pick my nephew and, maybe, get Kat a lawyer.” And, just like that, you’d told Harvey Specter, of all people, everything. Tears rolling down your cheeks and him pulling you into a hug.

If anyone had told you that that was how your night was gonna go, you would have definitely laughed them out of the room. But now, just sitting there, being held and caressed by Harvey, as you let your armor down, it was finally beginning to look like things were gonna be okay. 

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Autistic Hiccup x ADHD Anna Headcanons

SO I’ve been really into the whole Autistic x ADHD ship dynamic and Hiccanna...highkey fits??? Like y’all know I will die on my “Anna has ADHD” hill, but after reading this post by @hobie-brown I’m like wait, the autistic Hiccup headcanon is wonderful too??? And blends SO WELL with ADHD Anna??? And I absolutely HAD to explore it more so BOOM headcanon time! Another special thanks to @hobie-brown for writing the super lovely autistic Hiccup headcanon masterpost that inspired me to do this!

Disclaimer: I myself am not on the spectrum (part of the reason I’ve always felt a little weird about definitively HCing characters as autistic unless I see actual autistic people HC them that way too), so most of the stuff here is stuff I know secondhand from my autistic friends! I do have ADHD, so I can always promise that ADHD Anna will be 100% authentic XD

~Anna absolutely gets into Hiccup’s special interests to try and impress him. The most obvious one being, of course, dragons, but also dinosaurs (extinct dragons), lizards (tiny dragons), and Dungeons and Dragons (An RPG game that does, in fact, include dragons). Hiccup absolutely had that dragonology book as a kid and got obsessed with it beyond all reasonability. Hilariously, Anna’s wooing strategy of indulging his special interests works like a charm--mainly because a) he’s pretty flattered that someone takes THAT much of an interest in what he likes and b) half the time, ANNA finds that she genuinely gets into whatever said special interest is and finds them easy to hyperfixate on. It helps that the more she obsesses over it herself, the more she has to talk to Hiccup about XD

~Specifically, Anna definitely joins a DnD campaign at some point so that Hiccup will think she’s a “cool gamer girl”--and then gets unironically obsessed with it and starts writing 10-page backstories for all of her characters. She later tells Hiccup it started out as a ruse to win his heart via nerdiness, and he absolutely loses his shit laughing.

~One of their overlapping special interests/hyperfixations is high fantasy. Hiccup is, unsurprisingly, all about the mythical creatures while Anna is more into the magic and the zesty political drama, but you dun best believe they catch every CGI-ridden fantasy movie that ever comes out. They’ve both spent a literal fortune on fantasy movie tickets, even moreso on watching them in 3D or Imax. How embarrassing for both of them.

~Another less-obvious overlapping interest is history. Hiccup gets into it while looking into the cultural mythos of dragons (he’s pretty fascinated by the fact that so many cultures around the world thought up similar creatures independently), while Anna gets into it because she grew up cooped up bored and lonely in a big house, and entertained herself by looking into the history behind some of the family paintings. They don’t seem it at first, but they’re actually both huge medieval and ancient civilization history buffs.

~Hiccup is THE most touch-repulsed person you will ever meet. This is unfortunate, as he is also SUPER touch-starved and absolutely does not realize it (I mean, I’ve never gotten the vibe Stoic was the super huggy type, considering his and Hicc’s relationship in HTTYD 1). This means he has absolutely no fucking clue what to make of Anna when they first meet meet. Anna’s the sort of person to give physical affection pretty freely, especially if she likes you--usually in the form of hugs, arm pats or playful swats, putting her elbow on your shoulder, etc etc. Hiccup is kinda just like “this is way too much touching but like??? I kinda like having her this close to me??? What do???”

~Anna, meanwhile, notices that Hiccup kinda stiffens up whenever she touches him and seems to not be crazy about it and she’s just immediately like “yo what’s wrong???” And as SOON as he admits he’s not all that crazy about being touched randomly she’s like “OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY” and never touches him without asking again.

~As soon as she finds out touch a kind of A Whole Thing for him, Anna is like...AGGRESSIVELY respectful of Hiccup’s boundaries when it comes to physical affection. Almost annoyingly so. She gets in the habit of basically never initiating any kind of physical touch without asking first--even long after they’ve started dating, and he’s told her it’s okay to initiate touching as long as she’s not smothery about it. She still refuses out of principle.

~They come up with a kind of “consent language” so Anna can pretty quickly determine when it’s all right to touch Hiccup--because Anna still really likes being physically affectionate with him, and he does actually like receiving physical affection a lot of the time (because, again, touch-starved), he’s just choosy about who does it. They work out a system based off of small, light touches that Hiccup doesn’t mind where it’s basically 2 taps on his shoulder for “can I hug you around the neck,” 2 taps on his side for “can I hug you around the waist,” 2 taps on his arm for “can I grab/lightly slap/punch your arm,” and 1 tap on is shoulder for “can I put my arm/elbow on your shoulder.” If he’s cool with it he’ll either nod or just say “yeah go ahead.” It works a lot quicker than asking “can I do such-and-such specific touch” every single time, and allows Anna to keep some of her spontaneity. They develop this during their friendship and it ends up rolling over into their relationship, even after Hiccup has basically told her she doesn’t need to ask permission for a lot of these anymore. She adds a new one after they start dating--she taps him a couple times wherever she wants to kiss him to ask if it’s cool to give him a smooch! It usually is.

~INFODUMPING. Literally SO. MUCH. INFODUMPING. Hiccup absolutely WILL NOT SHUT UP when he gets to talking about one of his special interests. Anna just will not shut up in general, but when the topic changes to one of her hyperfixations, it’s even worse. If you try to have a conversation with these two while they’re infodumping, you WILL get talked over. Honestly, left to their own devices, they could probably infodump to each other for literal days on end.

~Despite how much they both like to infodump, they’re both pretty good about being patient and indulging the other when it’s their partner’s turn to infodump in the conversation XD They are, however, notorious about accidentally triggering a barely-related infodump in the other person. It’s not uncommon for one of them to finish a rant and then the other goes “OH THAT REMINDS ME” and sets off on a completely different, barely-related rant.

~Hiccup actually really appreciates how overexpressive--and occasionally overdramatic--Anna tends to be. He never has to try and figure out what she’s thinking because she just says everything in her brain, and her body language basically always matches how she’s feeling to a ridiculous extent, so he never has to give himself a headache trying to read her. The fact that she’s the opposite of subtle and has no filter whatsoever works great for him, because he doesn’t have to drive himself insane trying to understand her. He gets her better than he gets most people because she’s an open goddamn book. The boy’s never been the best with social cues at all, never mind the nuanced, obscure ones, so Anna’s general straightforwardness and utter inability to hide her true feelings at literally any time is a breath of fresh air. What you see is basically what you get, and Hiccup wouldn’t have it any other way.

~People think when Anna and Hiccup start dating it’s gonna be a disaster, mainly because he’s so blunt and she can be...”oversensitive” (i.e. has a REALLY bad case of RSD). Turns out they’re dead wrong--because Hiccup has RSD too! (I mean, come ON--look how BADLY he wants to get his village’s approval! And how hard he takes it when his dad or someone else is mad at him--even if he tries to hide it with snark) He’s actually one of the few people who can be blunt enough with Anna that she realizes when she’s being a dumbass but tactful enough not to hurt her feelings or set off her RSD--because god, has he been there. When Anna is being especially difficult and has worked herself into a real bad funk, Hiccup (and sometimes Elsa) is the only people who can talk to her and get through to her without getting blown up at.

~They stim in similar ways!!! They both tend to fidget or kinda bounce up in down in place as a way to comfort themselves and calm themselves down (I see them both having a lot of anxiety and generally being kind of paranoid, although Anna is MUCH better at hiding this via putting on a cheerful face). They both do the leg bounce!!! Also if they get SUPER excited they’ll do a little awkward happy dance!!! They both also tend to stim by rubbing things in small, repetitive motions--with Hiccup, it’s usually his sketching pens, his ear, his head, or the back of his neck, while with Anna, it’s usually her other hand, her arm, her clothes, or really anything with kind of a comforting, consistent texture (some favorites are rubber, felt, and velvet). After they start dating, they actually will stim with each other’s hands while holding hands--usually by squeezing the other person’s hand in kind of a repetitive pattern or doing the thumb-rub thing on the back of the other person’s hand. It’s not uncommon for them to each be doing something completely unrelated while holding hands and just stimming on each other’s hands the entire time. Anna especially really loves when she feels Hiccup stimming on her, because it’s her little indicator that he’s happy and feels at peace and content in her presence and she LOVES being able to do that for him!

~They both stim by playing with hair too! Anna likes to play with her own to stim--mainly by figeting with the end of her braids or tucking hair behind her ear. She DOES love to ruffle Hiccup’s hair too (and she LOVES how fluffy it is!), but it’s usually not a stim thing. After they start dating, Anna does occasionally stim by massaging Hiccup’s hair/scalp, but she doesn’t usually do it for very long. Hiccup really loves braiding Anna’s hair, or just playing with it when it’s down. it helps him relax and clear his mind to have something fairly repetitive and/or mindless to do.

~Even after gaining some confidence, Hiccup still has a fair bit of social anxiety, so he and Anna basically always go to parties and social events together and stick with each other the whole time to make it less intimidating for him. Hiccup generally prefers to let Anna do the talking when they chat with people, and sometimes if he’s REALLY nervous he’ll sometimes even let her kinda talk for him (not in a condescending “speaking over” kinda way, but more in like a “I can sense you’re not comfortable speaking here so I’ll help you out as best I can” kinda way). She always makes sure to leave space in the conversation for him to take over talking if he wants. She’s also incredibly prone to bragging about his accomplishments to basically everyone they know. Hiccup is both embarrassed and flattered by this.

~When Anna finds out about meltdowns (probably through Hiccup mentioning it kind of offhandedly--“Eh, sorry I went AWOL last night, I was having a bit of a meltdown. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine now.”) she lowkey gets super anxious and frustrated because she REALLY wants to help, but has no idea how. Cue literal HOURS of research on the internet and AGGRESSIVE memorizing of any and all tips that she reads that she thinks would help. Which, of course, means several MORE hours spent going over flashcards like she’s studying for a goddamn test, because Anna has never been known for her sharp, expansive memory.

~The first time Hiccup ever has a meltdown in front of her (maybe after a really bad phone fight with his dad or something? Just general sensory overload?), she takes him to a secluded room and IMMEDIATELY gets rid of anything that could be agitating sensory-wise. She dims the lights! She closes the blinds! She throws a nearby clock, an alarm, a timer, and several other objects with only the slightest potential of making an annoying noise out of a nearby window in a fit of passion! She goes on a frenzied quest to find Hiccup’s noise-cancelling headphones--and finishes it in record time! Even in a state of emotional turmoil, Hiccup realizes that Anna’s being just a little too methodical in how she goes about all this--these are the kind of things that wouldn’t ever occur naturally to her to do. So as soon as he calms down a bit and has screamed into a pillow for a while, he’s like “...did you go on the internet to look up how to help with meltdowns?” and Anna’s like “...yes?” And Hiccup is lowkey so touched he starts crying all over again...and then, naturally, makes a long string of snarky comments to try and distract from it XD

~For their anniversary Anna saves up a bunch and buys Hiccup a lizard and a terrarium!!! She gets him a crocodile skink because, I quote, “Well, they always look annoyed, they’re kinda shy, they don’t like to be touched, and they look like tiny dragons, so they reminded me of you!!!” Hiccup screams like a goddamn fangirl, he’s SO excited. As luck would have it, Hiccup’s crocodile skink is a lot less skittish and prone to hiding than they usually are, and he actually lets Hiccup pick him up and pet him without much issue. Which is honestly great, because repeatedly touching something smooth and even like lizard scales helps calm Hiccup down when he’s agitated and helps with some of his sensory issues.

~Probably goes without saying, but Hiccup basically NEVER genuinely gives Anna a hard time about her memory problems or how she’s not always the quickest on the uptake, and if anyone tries to call her annoying, dumb, or immature he will absolutely roast them into oblivion. He does sometimes like...lightly tease her about jumping into things without thinking or never shutting up, but he never pushes it if he can tell she’s genuinely bothered by it (and, again, Anna is very easy to read, so it’s not hard to tell XD)

~I’ve seen other people in the fandom HC either Hiccup, Anna, or both of them as BOTH autistic and ADHD, and honestly...fuck yes!!! I’m down for this too! I love the idea of these two disaster ND kids just vibing with each other on so many damn levels that it’s like...incomprehensible to the average human XD Like man, they fuckin GET each other!!! I’m pretty happy with most combinations of ADHD + Autistic headcanons for Anna and Hiccup, so long as they end up vibing!!!

~THEY JUST. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. SO MUCH. THEY LITERALLY WOULD DIE FOR EACH OTHER. I AM SURE OF IT. I’M CRYING. 

[funkymbtifiction]

hey, me again (the person you typed as SFP). Thanks for your respond. First of all; you are certainly right about me using fi-te, thats actually i am quiet sure about by now (even though i had some trouble seeing myself as a feeler at first because it is usually described that feelers are in general more empathic and i can assure you no person i know would ever use the word "empathic" to describe me)...

You sound like an NP in what you wrote here, yes.

Fi's appear stoic on the outside, but are a swarm of specific emotions on the inside. They are self-referencing; if something doesn't ignite an emotional response in them, they don't care and aren't particularly sympathetic from "the outside," hence why people call them "cold." But they are very easily insulted, if they're INFPs. Much more so than an ENFP, who will consider it through Ne/Te more often than Fi.

[nellied-reviews]

Super Energy Saver Mode Re-listen

Hellooooo! My Wolf 359 re-listen has hit episode 6, and guess what that means? Yup, you got it!

Super Energy Saver Mode

In which Eiffel struggles to name his top five lanthanides, Hilbert blows things up again, and the Hephaestus might be haunted?!

I'll confess, going into this episode I could not remember very much about it. The title felt familiar, I vaguely remembered that it was one of the episodes where something on the Hephaestus stops working, but other than that? Nothing. Zip. Zilch. So that was exciting.

And you know what? I can kind of see why I didn't retain much from this episode! Plot-wise Super Energy Saver Mode just doesn't do very much. There's not a complex solve or fix for the issues that come up, or a clever work-around. Instead, Minkowski and Eiffel just... figure everything out and fix it competently?

In retrospect, there is, of course, one big, plot-relevant, spoilery thing that happens. But even that is basically left unresolved by the episode’s ending, which aims to create a creepy atmosphere than anything else.

Because that is what this episode does well. Without the additional job of being plotty, Super Energy Saver Mode can just concentrate on being atmospheric. Coming into it pretty much blind, in particular, meant that I appreciated the tension baked into the episode - even once I remembered what was going on, I really enjoyed how spooky this episode felt.

As per usual, though, we don't start with the creepiness. Instead, we start with Eiffel chatting about something mundane - namely, the fact that it's the crew's 500th day in space!

It's something that I think, on any other show, wouldn't actually be all that mundane. There are a whole bunch of spacey series where I could imagine a pretty decent episode being built around the crew trying to host some sort of anniversary celebration. But here, 500 days isn't something to be celebrated. It's not a bad thing, per se. But it's not a good thing. It's just a thing, a reminder of how worn down the crew are at this point, and how many days they have left on the clock. We get the impression that this mission is more of a long, hard slog than anything else - and thus we're reminded again of how little Goddard cares about its employees' wellbeing and morale.

Eiffel and Hera are having an unofficial party, though, with just the two of them, which is sweet. In practice, of course, this just means that they're spending time chatting while Eiffel avoids work. But it's really cute, and I find the banter about top five lists and the various criteria that Hera uses to come up with them soooooo funny. I mean, Hera judges "Stick It to the Man" songs by active political regimes at the time of composition, and complexity of choral progression, which I love for reasons I can't quite pinpoint?

The sequence also shows how differently Hera and Eiffel think. Eiffel very immediately and intuitively forms an emotional connection to things like music, but can't even fathom how Hera just knows things like the 900th digit of pi, or all of the lanthanides. Hera, meanwhile, has so much more information and raw data at her metaphorical fingertips than Eiffel, but doesn't quite connect to it in the same way, and doesn’t entirely get how Eiffel does. It's not (like with the Dear Listeners) that she can't connect to music, or fundamentally doesn't get it. But she's working on a different scale, judging by different standards. And she's not embarrassed to mess with Eiffel because of it, or to talk about it with him. Really, it's a textbook example of how to hang out and be friends with somebody while still thinking and relating to the world differently - which I think is a large part of what I like about Eiffel and Hera's friendship.

Their fun little interaction gets interrupted, sadly, by Hilbert requesting extra power for his lab, which we can already tell will end badly, because come on, it's Hilbert. But what is interesting is how irritated Hera seems afterwards. I mean, she does the whole "I am not programmed to get upset" spiel, but nobody's buying it, and when she confesses that she doesn't like Hilbert's tone, there's definitely a lot of annoyance there. It reminds us, after seeing Hera's machine side, that she's still a person and still has emotions - a balance that Wolf 359 is generally pretty good at. Hera's allowed to be an AI, with the non-human worldview that that entails. But at the end of the day, she's still a character with emotional depth and nuance.

With that in mind, then, Hera admits that she doesn't like Hilbert's tone - which is totally understandable - but also that she's mostly worried that somebody's going to get hurt as a consequence of Hilbert's recklessness - which seems to be validated when the station's power cuts out and Hera goes offline mid-sentence.

Eiffel, given the circumstances, remains remarkably calm, but this does mark the point where the episode shifts genre to become what is, in effect, a haunted house story. It's set on a space ship, sure, but all of the beats from this point onwards are pretty much the beats you might expect if Eiffel were, say, spending the night alone in his late grandfather's crumbling old mansion, long rumoured to be cursed. It's paranormal horror at its finest, complete with weird voices and jump scares and a bunch of "it's probably nothing" moments.

I noticed, as well, that there was barely any music from this point onwards. There is some (shout out to the creepy little theme with the ghost-like, theremin-sounding wail and the soft bass guitar!) but it's subtle, and very much secondary to the sound effects, which suddenly get very loud. For as long as the power is off, we get all sorts of creaking, groaning and echoing - and with it a sense of just how big and empty the Hephaestus really is. Hera's constant presence and the electronic noises around the place do a lot to mask that, normally. But now we're hearing the silence, and it is eerie.

Adorably, Eiffel's first instinct is to ask himself, "What would Commander Minkowski say if she were here right now?" This leads into a huge and surprisingly detailed fake argument, of course, which is hilarious in and of itself, but there's also just something kinda sweet about how immediately Eiffel assumes that Minkowski would have a handle on things. Eiffel still complains about her a lot, at this point in the series, so the respect that this little moment betrays feels fresh and sort of unexpected.

Eiffel's not wrong to trust Minkowski, either. Once she shows up, the episode's main problem - Hera being offline - gets solved quickly and remarkably efficiently, with Eiffel doing the legwork and Minkowski giving instructions, and honestly, it's in moments like this that I remember how technically competent Minkowski is. I think I tend to remember the more military, combative bits best, with her stalking round harpoon in hand or shooting folks, so it's nice to be reminded that the Commander can also handle things like repairs just fine.

Of course, that  means that the episode's main tension is never actually about the power outage. The sudden silence and the threat of life support running out add to the episode's general atmosphere, sure. But the thing we are most anxious about, as the episode plays out, isn't the ship's newly-accessed Super Energy Saver Mode. No, instead of that, we're given a new mystery, and it's a doozy: what's up with that voice Eiffel keeps hearing?

It starts almost inaudible, but in the end Eiffel hears the words loud, clear and terrifying: "You're not the first." Which, like, terrifying much? It's vague and ominous and very chilling, especially with all the distortion that's going on.

In retrospect, of course, we know that this is our first encounter with Captain Isabelle Lovelace - indeed, it's one of the very few encounters that we have with the real, non-alien-duplicate Isabelle Lovelace, for whatever that's worth. We also know that she doesn't mean any harm - she's trying to warn the crew, in fact.

Strangely, though, knowing that doesn't actually this any less effective as a ghost story. After all, what are we hearing, but the voice of a dead woman, warning the crew about an even worse monster lurking in their midst? The Hephaestus, Lovelace's recording reminds us, is indeed haunted, if not literally then at least metaphorically, by the ghosts of its former crew and the traces that they have managed to leave behind.

With or without hindsight, then, the episode is creepy, hinging ultimately on the idea that there might be something not quite airtight in Hera's programming, that there could be something hiding - or deliberately hidden - just underneath her code. In making that the focus of the story, the episode opens up the tantalising possibility that something might fundamentally be wrong with the Hephaestus and its systems. The show's very setting is destabilised and made frightening - and that's a genie that you can't just put back in the bottle once you decide that you're done telling ghost stories. Instead, the feeling that something is not quite right persists even after Hera comes back online, and still haunts the episode as it draws to a close, since we don't actually get an explanation of who Lovelace is. Instead, it remains a mystery. A spooky, weird, always-in-the-back-of-your-mind mystery.

It's a bold move, and it feels a lot like what happened with the plant monster, which is also at large at this point. I'm beginning to suspect that this is a thing we're going to see more of, too - big, obvious plot threads that are ostentatiously waved in front of us, then dropped, apparently without comment. 

It's something I think these early episodes could do more easily, since the expectation that loose ends would be followed up on wasn't quite established yet. Later on in the series, everything gets more serialized, so if something like, say, an alien duplicate of Jacobi turns up and is left dangling, we can reasonably expect that it'll get addressed at a point. Earlier on? We've not got those expectations. This might just be the sort of show where weird, scary voices are brought up and then never mentioned again. It might be the sort of show that lets a plant monster loose and forgets about it for the rest of the series. 

When it turns out, then, that that isn't the case, even in these early, apparently inconsequential episodes, it feels like a bonus, and we get, in hindsight, a little thrill of recognition, as we realise that no, there was a plot there the whole time. It's a satisfying feeling, at least for me, and it's 100% what's fuelling this re-listen.

So yup. Super Energy Saver Mode. An exercise in atmospheric spookiness, an enjoyable haunted house story and just generally a pleasant surprise. Solid work, really.

  Miscellaneous thoughts

Eiffel is talking about an 830 day mission, if I've done my maths right - with the possibility of Command extending it! That is one long-ass time to spend in space with three other people!

I want to know Eiffel's top five Stick It to the Man songs so badly 

"Ooookay. Maybe this isn't one of those wait and see things. Maybe it's one of those... imminent death things."

Wait Hilbert had to amputate multiple of Minkowski's toes???

Bless her, Hera sounds drunk when she's coming back online ^-^

[jade4813]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves, Chapter 5

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Rating: PG (I’m assuming it’ll stay there?)

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Max would do anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last “big moment” to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it’s only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?

Chapter: 5/?

Author’s Notes: Takes place after Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me. Boy, you just don’t realize what you do to me,” Zoey sang at a volume approximating the top of her lungs as she danced around her kitchen, popping toast onto a plate and giving the scrambled eggs one more flip with her spatula before dumping them on top. “When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s all right! I-I-I-I-I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing that you’re in lo-”

She broke off at the sound of a loud knock on her front door. She did a little boogie with her hips as she flipped off the stove in a smooth gesture. Then she danced her way over to the table to drop off her plate on her way to the door. At a much more reasonable volume, she continued to sing as she moved. “Your lips are sweet as candy and the taste stays on my mind. Boy, you got me thirsty for another cup of – Mo? H-hey! What’s up?”

He threw her a pointed look as he walked past her into her living room. “What’s up with me? I came over here to find out what’s up with you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “I’m just getting ready for work, and -”

“You’re singing,” he finished for her.

She tried one more time to avoid the conversation. “So-o-o?” she asked, drawing out the word. “I…sing. On occasion. Sometimes.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve lived across the hall from you for a while, and I can tell you one thing. You? Don’t sing. I sing. Other people sing. But you don’t sing.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he pointed one finger at her. “Zoey? Spill.”

“Oh, all right,” she huffed, collapsing into her chair to eat her rapidly cooling breakfast. “I’m in a good mood because, you know, it’s a beautiful day outside, and things are really going well for me at work, and also,” she took a big bite and ducked her head, hoping to obscure the words, “Max and I kissed.” Swallowing quickly, she looked up and threw Mo a wide grin. “So did you want a cup of coffee or something? I don’t have a lot of time, but -”

“But you are going to make time because I heard you, and you are not dropping that bombshell on me and then racing out the door.” Mo’s eyes were bright with excitement as he took a seat on the other side of the table. When Zoey didn’t say anything right away, he prompted, “So? Details!”

She sighed and started pushing her congealing eggs around her plate. “It’s…complicated.” That word again. She was starting to hate that word.

“Uh huh. I’m sure. So who kissed who? Did that man finally give in to the burning passion that’s been building up inside him for years? Or did you decide it was high time to take him for a test ride?”

She rolled her eyes. “Neither.” She paused. “Or both? I don’t know. In answer to your question, he kissed me. But I kind of made him.” At Mo’s confused expression, she explained, “Okay, so you’re probably going to think this is ridiculous, but I kinda…sorta…asked Max to pretend to date me. Just until my dad…just to make my dad happy for these last few weeks.”

She expected a wide range of reactions to her confession, but he just blinked at her a few times, stunned. “You’re pretending to date Max.” She nodded. “And so that’s why you two kissed.” She nodded again. “Because you’re pretending to date each other.” One more nod. “Which is definitely a thing normal people do. And I guess the only way could convince your family you were dating at that moment was to kiss him.”

Zoey couldn’t meet his eyes. “Well, technically nobody else was around. We were…practicing.”

Mo leaned back in his chair. “Right. If you’re going to pretend to date someone, it only makes sense that you have to practice pretending to kiss them. So you can do it convincingly. Out of curiosity, how many practice kisses did it take?”

She winced. Splaying her hands, she tapped her fingertips together and said meekly, “Well, that depends how you want to count them. Do you mean incidents of practice kissing, or number of times our lips may have met during those incidents?” Mo just cupped his chin in one hand and threw her an expectant look. “So…we only had that one incident. Um, so far. And as for the other question,” she began scrunching her face in thought, “I’m honestly not sure.”

“Well, since you’ve been singing “Hooked on a Feeling” all morning, I don’t think there’s any need to ask you how you liked the kiss. Or kisses.”

Zoey felt warmth spread from her chest, up her neck, to her face, and she assumed if she looked at her reflection at that moment, she’d see she’d turned bright red. “In all fairness, Max is…skilled…in the…arts…related to…the lips. And tongue.” She hid her mouth behind her coffee and mumbled in an undertone, “And teeth.”

Mo threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I see. I had such high hopes for him. Good to know he didn’t let me down. So, I take this to mean you finally made your decision.”

“My decision?” she asked with feigned innocence, standing to take her dishes to the sink. She really would be late if she didn’t get moving. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t willing to let it go. “You’ve been torn between Simon and Max for months. I was hoping all this meant that you’ve finally decided to pick a side.”

“There’s no side!” she protested, throwing up her hands. “Simon is…a great guy. And attractive. And completely engaged to someone else. Max is,” she paused, waving one hand helplessly in the air as though trying to summon the words before continuing, “well, he’s Max. I’m not deciding anything because there’s nothing to decide! I am not in a place to get into a real relationship right now. This whole thing with Max is just…it’s all pretend. So that my dad doesn’t worry about me. And when it’s over…”

Mo’s eyes were sympathetic when he finished her sentence for her. “And when it’s over, the kisses stop. And eventually, he may move on to someone who doesn’t just want a pretend relationship. Is that really what you want?”

Zoey sighed as she shrugged into her coat and reached for the door. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I just…I can’t deal with anything real right now.”

Mo paused and put his hand on her shoulder as he walked past her into the hall. “Well, next time you decide to practice kissing with Max, you let me know how it goes. Soap operas have less drama than you do.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she jogged down the steps, though she found herself singing in an undertone again by the time she hit the street. “All the good love when we’re all alone. Keep it up, boy. Yeah, you turn me on. I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me…”

Was it her imagination, or was Max avoiding her? She’d tried not to read too much into his behavior, but every time she tried to grab a few moments with him alone, he suddenly remembered a very pressing appointment he needed to make. Or phone call. Or conversation. On the other side of the building.

As she stood on the top of the risers and watched him work at his desk, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she really that bad of a kisser? Sure, she was a little out of practice, but she couldn’t possibly be that bad, could she? Not bad enough to justify him doing everything in his power to avoid having to kiss her again. The very thought was demoralizing.

Giving her head a quick, determined shake, she hopped down the risers and approached his desk. “Max? Do you have a minute?”

“Oh, hey, Zoey!” he greeted her with false cheer. “Ah, you know, I’d love to talk, but I have something I need to deal with first. For, um, for Joan.”

That did it. She followed him to their boss’s office, but before he could walk inside, she darted around him. “Hey, Joan?” she asked brightly, poking her head inside the office door. “I need to grab Max for a few minutes, okay? We’ll be right back.”

Joan made a disgusted face. “I do not need to know what the two of you do on your lunch hour. Just leave me out of it,” she replied, waving the two of them away.

“Great!” she replied, grabbing Max’s arm and propelling him towards the elevators. “Max, I think you and I need to go for a cup of coffee.”

“Well, we have a -” he began, turning towards the coffee bar.

She shook her head. “Outside. Just the two of us.”

The silence that fell between them was strained as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor and headed outside. Now that she had Max alone, she wasn’t sure what to say. They were a few doors down from SPRQ Point’s entrance when she couldn’t take the silence any longer. Stopping next to some concrete stairs, she climbed up the first step so she could look him in the eye. “Okay, look. There’s something I need to – I’m sorry about last night. I know I – it was pretty bad, huh?”

His face fell. “Bad? You’d really describe it as bad?”

She barely registered his disappointment too wrapped up in her own self-doubt. It wasn’t every day that a girl found out her kisses were so awkward, her partner would rather avoid her than risk hurting her feelings. “I was just nervous, you know? And, okay, I’m a little out of practice. But I think if we just…oh, to hell with it.” Before she could embarrass herself further, she wrapped her arms around Max’s neck and practically threw herself at him, launching herself into his arms as she pressed her lips against his.

Max let out a soft sound of surprise, his arms wrapping around her instinctively as she landed against his chest. But a moment later, they tightened, holding her steady as she deepened the kiss. She curled her fingers into his hair, which was somehow softer than she’d imagined, and almost wanted to cheer aloud when he started to kiss her back.

Last night, he had taken charge of the kiss, overwhelming her senses as he pulled her deeper and deeper into the embrace. This time, she was determined to set the pace. She brushed feather-soft kisses against his lips until they parted for her, and when she felt him try to take control, she teased him by pulling away slightly. He moaned, but he relented, and so she ran her tongue consolingly along the curve of his lower lip and deepened the kiss once more.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, locked in their embrace, but the soft sound of someone clearing their throat a few feet away finally penetrated Zoey’s mental fog and caught her attention. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Max and looked over his shoulder, almost falling over when she saw her mom, dad, Emily, and Howie staring at her.

“Mom! Dad! Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked, scrambling out of Max’s embrace and trying desperately to get her clothes in order.

Emily had her head tilted to the side, giving them both a considering look. Her mom looked amused, and though it was sometimes hard to read her dad’s expressions, she could swear there was both surprise and happiness in his eyes. For his part, Howie was looking at the sky, like he was searching for passing airplanes. “Emily had an appointment at the doctor today, and David’s hearing is running late, so she asked us to come along. We were just headed to lunch and thought we’d stop by and invite you to join us,” her mom explained. “You too, Max, of course.”

“If we aren’t interrupting anything,” Howie added dryly.

“Interrupting? Us? N-no! Of course not!” Zoey stammered, grabbing Max’s hand as she stepped down next to him. “We were just on our way to lunch, too. We’d be happy to join you.”

“You know, if you wanted some time alone, I could -” Max began, but Zoey squeezed his hand and threw him a threatening look.

“Don’t you dare.” If she had to face her family with the knowledge they’d just seen her make out with her fake-boyfriend in front of the entire world, she wasn’t going to do it alone.

They had walked only about a half a block before her sister-in-law commented, “So, I guess things really are fine between you guys.”

Feeling her cheeks heat, Zoey replied defensively, “Of course they are! We just…needed a little time. To get used to things.”

“Uh huh. Well, you better be careful,” Emily advised. “Last time David kissed me like that, I ended up like this.” She gestured toward her pregnant stomach.

Max let out a tiny, surprised puff of laughter, while Zoey inwardly cringed. “Ew!” she cried, only half-jokingly. She covered her face, though whether it was to avoid looking at Emily’s expression or to prevent Max from seeing her own, she wasn’t entirely sure. “I did not need to know that, thank you!”

“I’m just saying,” Emily remarked with an unrepentant grin.

In a voice slightly louder and a shade higher-pitched than usual, Max tried desperately to change the subject, “So, Mitch, did you see the game last week?”

Mitch shifted in his seat to look up at him, just as Howie said jovially, “So, Max. Mitch said you asked Zoey out using a flash mob. That’s pretty brave!”

Zoey’s stomach twisted into a knot, and she wracked her brain for a way to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about this. Her family all thought that this story had a happy ending, but of course she knew it didn’t. She didn’t want Max to be hurt by the reminder.

She started to comment on the weather, when Emily interjected, “Especially since Zoey isn’t always good at dealing with big emotional moments.”

Her head whipped around as she turned to stare at her sister-in-law. “What are you talking about! I don’t have a problem with big emotional moments!”

“Which is why you ran away afterwards?” Emily pointed out. Zoey loved her sister-in-law, but at times like this, it was sometimes hard to remember that her bluntness was meant with kindness. After all, she – like everyone else in her family – believed that things had all worked out in the end, and Zoey had ultimately realized she reciprocated Max’s feelings. If she hadn’t, Zoey knew she wouldn’t be so cruel as to make light of such a painful memory.

Zoey wanted to console Max, but he was the one who gave her hand a quick, comforting squeeze. She looked up into his eyes and saw a quick flash of the heartache he tried to hide, but then he released her and shifted away. “Well, you didn’t see me dance. I only had three rehearsals, after all. Running away might have been the right call,” he joked, breaking out into a couple impromptu dance moves on the sidewalk. Redirecting the conversation away from her reaction to his confession. Making a mockery of his own pain to shield her from her own.

“Max, no,” she protested softly, reaching for his arm. Had he always done this, protecting her at the cost of his own feelings? She’d never thought about it before, but she had a suspicion the answer was yes, and it broke her heart. Determined to stop her family from unintentionally causing him further agony, she said loudly, “That’s not what happened. I -”

“Well, at least it all worked out, and you two realized you love each other. That’s all that matters. And it sounds like it was a wonderful gesture, Max. The kind of moment Mitch would have loved,” Maggie cut in, oblivious to her daughter’s inner turmoil. “He’s always been a sucker for those big, romantic moments. Haven’t you, Mitch?”

Her father indicated agreement, and the opportunity to clear the air was lost as the conversation redirected to more mundane logistical matters when they entered the restaurant. But Zoey noticed that Max didn’t reach for her hand again throughout lunch, or on the walk back to the office. She was only now beginning to realize how many small sacrifices Max made on her behalf. How many times she’d probably inadvertently wounded him, without even realizing it – not just now, but in all the years of their friendship leading up to this moment. What that must have cost him – and continued to cost him still, as he covered up his pain with humor and hid it from the world. From her.

She missed the warmth of his hand in hers.

Max groaned as he looked over at the clock. Curling his arm underneath his head, he glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It was after two, and he was completely unable to fall asleep. He kept thinking about Zoey and their kiss. Kisses.

“They didn’t mean anything, Max,” he scolded himself, but even in the quiet solitude of his bedroom, his words lacked conviction. She’d kissed him earlier that day, hadn’t she? Of course, their whole pretend relationship was her idea, so that didn’t have to mean anything. But she hadn’t just kissed him. She’d kissed him. Like she meant it. Like she didn’t want to stop.

Maybe things had changed for her. They’d certainly changed for him. Maybe he should ask her. Would that really be so terrible?

Yes, it would. Because she’d already asked him for time, and he’d agreed to give it to her. He’d promised he wouldn’t allow himself to be confused by their fake relationship. She knew how he felt, and she’d already told him she wasn’t ready for more, and it wouldn’t be right to pressure her.

Plus, she’d said their first kiss was bad, earlier. And maybe she hadn’t mean it the way it sounded; he couldn’t be entirely sure. But still, he doubted anyone went from calling a kiss “bad” one minute to declaring their undying love in the next.

Bad. Bad? She’d thought it was bad? He’d thought it was pretty earth-shattering himself, but…no. He wasn’t going to allow himself to dwell on the thought she hadn’t been as moved by their first kiss as he was. Of course she wasn’t. Didn’t that basically sum up their whole relationship? That she barely noticed moments that left him wanting more?

So, no. He shouldn’t say anything. He should absolutely keep his feelings to himself. Keep repeating to himself that none of it meant anything.

But it felt like it had meant something.

Before he could resume his mental merry-go-round, torturing himself with questions that had no clear answers, he heard a sound at his front door. Sitting up, he strained to listen and heard it again. Light tapping, like someone faintly knocking.

Confused, he jumped out of bed and headed to the door. When he looked through the peephole and saw a familiar tumble of red hair, he caught his breath. Could it really be Zoey? Had he somehow conjured her there with his thoughts? Or was his sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on him?

He saw her shoulders slump as she stepped away from the door, her movements unsteady, and fumbled with the lock as he tried to pull it open before she could leave. “Zoey? What are you doing here?”

[unravelling-the-world]

random thoughts related to kagepro (tw for depression?? death?? suicide ?? implied ?? im not sure and idk what else read at ur own risk)

well idk lately ive been thinking a lot and ik ive uh always (? since i can remember?) have been depressed (i mean...it started around age 12...i dont really remember much before that. most of what i remember are bad moments anyways. or very specific scenes. but they dont feel mine. if that makes sense. its like remembering the scene from a movie.  back on track i guess idk well lately ive realized i actually kin some characters and lately ive...been relating a lot to shintaro kisaragi fromkagepro. i mean its ok. there´s always been that specific similarity in us (after all, how many characters in anime are as related to coca cola as shintaro //and me,,im literally a coca cola addict lmao// well anyways. after some days, this lead me to thinking...to a hidden memory within my brain, i guess. I remember introducing my then best friends, to kagepro. one told me haha he´s like u bc the coca cola!! and i think i just laughed and smiled? i truly didn´t see it? i was sad sure, but i couldnt really relate to him. after all, i was the leader of my own little group of 12 year old weebs,right? (i was also 12 btw) i didnt personally dislike shintaro but i didnt rly see myself in him yknow? also i have loved ayano from ever since i have memory so idk like she´s one of my biggest comfort characters and its weird bc if she was ´´real´´ idk if i could date her or anything but im just glad she exists bc it somehow comforts me a lot yeah anyways ayano essay for another time lol. anyways at this age my favorite characters in kagepro were ayano and konoha ( i still love them a lot) thing is, at this point in my life i didnt know/wasnt aware i was transgender but i already kinda liked he/him pronouns so i roleplayed a lot. online. i roleplayed as konoha obviously lmao and actually one of my irl friends related to shintaro ?? and i think we may have roleplayed lmao and stuff.... she even had a facebook account named shin hikkikomori or smth like that. anyways fast forward bc after being 12 a lot of stuff happened obviously. and none of that relates to kagepro until quite some time. i will mention some items that dont really relate to kagepro but marked moments in my friend group that may be relevant later on. Around 2016)? Some of my closest friends changed schools (but we kept contact) yet i still had a big group at school. But it got fragmented along the way. 2017 i went to Japan and formed a new, different friend group with people that even today, are dear to me. When i came back, my friend group fragmented more. I kept contact with other members of the old group but one on one, not as a group anymore. 2018 we graduated, and i broke up my realtionship with one of my former best friends (2016-2018) 2019 was a year of change, and even though i was afraid and shit got weird, i was not doing too bad. i will skip that. Well. Im sure we all know 2020 was a trainwreck, shit happened. i had a villain arc. I lost my shit,definetely. Ups, downs, whatever. 2021 has not been too different. However, even through everything, in early 2020, i kept close relationships with my friend group. as the year moved forward and the restrictions started lifting ( thank you government very cool <3 //ironically obviously, this is the reason this shit wont go away//) some of my friends saw each other irl and stuff, or talked about stuff i didn´t understand/didn´t want to hear while on discord. I felt alienated. I felt empty. I got mad at a friend for the first time, for something he said. I ended up isolating myself. A friend celebrated her birthday. She invited me and never excluded me, asked me a lot of things and asked to virtually include me. But that would just make me feel more alienated, wouldn´t it? I told her it was ok, i didn´t go. Honestly, I felt like a bother. I didn´t want to bother. I wasn´t okay, but i didn´t want to bother anyone, so i isolated myself. I had a very bad breakdown. lasted weeks. When I recovered, it wasn´t the same. It felt like everyone else was closer, while i drifted away. I kind of recconected with some of my friends from Japan after this. In the vacations, i felt like i reconnected with some friends just to drift away again later. However, i never could reconnect with one of my best friends. She never really got mad at me or anything ( i think) but we don´t really talk much anymore. We used to talk daily, be it actual talking, memes, anything. I don´t think we´ve actually talked in weeks. There´s nothing I can do. This year, another friend had a birthday, but I was so disconnected from everyone I didn´t even care. I mean. It´s all broken now, isn´t it? The other day I just started wondering. When did I start relating to Shintaro so much? I had always been like this, hadn´t I? Who am I, actually? Why do I relate so much now? It´s not just about the soda. I had lost friends before, but I never really felt like that. Sometimes I feel like I´ve lost everyone. In a one year span I became a hikkikomori. About a month ago, when I entered classes, I was recognized as Shintaro pfp and I admitted to kinning him to people i´d never talked to before (on chat) // I decided to go apeshit idc anymore about what anyone thinks of me// I had fun. I think I must´ve posted on my stories, because two different people told me they were the ene to my shintaro. I appreciated it. i mean it´s kinda true bc now that i´m only on the pc they do bother me online and try to get me to open up or get better but sometimes the just annoy me lmao but also not bc they all have their own particular lives and they all seem to be doing better than me. Still, my classmates are very nice and inclusive. But it´s not like im close to any of them I guess. I´m just alone now. I´m fucked up man....I don´t feel real anymore. I don´t really know who I am. I guess that´s why I find comfort in seeing a part of myself in Shintaro? But when did i turn out like this? Why didn´t I relate when I was younger? Well, I hadn´t really lost any friends back then. I now know how painful that is. How lonely it is to be alone even when there is people around. idk. and i´ve always been quiet. introverted. shy. a loser. yet now whenever i meet anyone i try to idk connect? but i cant. i wish i could be more evil. maybe it´d just be easier if everyone really, truly hated me. maybe i´d get the strength to actually kill myself then. it´s weird. i really see myself in route xx shintaro. I know that´s fucked up because I know how it ends. but truly, i was trying. I was healing, i think i was going somewhere. and i was trying to keep my newly formed renovated friend group together. I really was trying to. I didn´t mind if we had sub groups on the big group, but we were all there for each other. I tried my best. I felt like i belonged. but now im alone again. and this time there´s nothing i can do. if something, i´ve made it worse. and i keep making it worse. it´s weird. when i first got into kagepro, both shintaro and ayano felt like adults. i thought they were really, really big. im older than them now. now i know theyre not really adults. i get it. i still feel 18. after all, these last two years have been taken away from me. i didnt waste them myself this time.  i feel like a rotten 18 year old...when i listen to lost time memory, i just...get it. i always liked the song. i thought the story was so cool. when it first came out.. i still remember. iwas there. i waited for it. i loved it. i still do, but back then, i just saw it all as some really great and cool song. now i feel like i really, really get it. i love it even more. im hiding away in all my memories. but what is my true heart? what do i really want? i don´t know, i don´t know... If I'm 'wise' then, I can't face forward; I have no reason to so, I'll rot away instead It would be nice if time could be turned back. Years may pass but I'll never die I repeat hopeful words to myself, even though I know I still won't be able to reach you. "It doesn't matter, just die already!" I said as I clutched my wrist, simply cursing it. Unable to do anything, I merely indulged myself in life. "If summer can show me dreams, then let's go to before you were taken away" The days where I hid my embarrassment are illuminating upon the atmosphere and burning my mind. If I'm wishing for a dream that can't come true, then I'll embrace this blurry past and have a dream which I don't wake up from and naturally seclude myself from the outside world. "But that means you can't even see tomorrow?" I don't really care 'bout that, so it's ok I stained my hands in order to kill these boring days I'm choosing "solitude" after all A rotten boy at 18 today too, prayed again while clinging on to your colored smile Underneath the blazing sun Asking "Somehow, please take me away instead of leaving like this!" and my murmuring breath was quietly stopped

I guess i just wish someone could actually help me. take me out of this hole. Maybe some kind of closure would be nice. It´s not the same, though. I don´t have enough bravery in myself to actually kill myself. Mostly because of guilt. I can´t take the guilt of dissapointing everyone. I don´t want my parents to get hurt. I don´t want my bunny to miss me. Yet i wish everyday for it to be over. Lately, half of my dreams have been in Japan, with many friends, some who i met there, some who have never been there. Yet my brain shows me the dreams before it was all taken away. I think one of my favorite parts of the day is dreaming. I like to sleep simply because I dream. And i sleep very few. mayb bc i hate myself? I still barely indulge in life. I do anything to stay distracted. If i think, it all goes to shit. it all does. like now. Heh. it´s funny. I guess no one is truly my ene, because no one actually knows how mentally fucked up i got these past months. No one knows how badly i´ve been treating myself and how badly i´ve been doing. Still, i can´t tell anyone but scream it into the tumblr void. No one has to keep up with my shit. No one has to take care of me. After all, it was I who chose solitude. It was me who kept them away. But I don´t get a second choice. I don´t get a change of routes if things go sour. And i guess I don´t get to get a mentally fucked up friend group where I belong for a second time. Once was good enough, wasn´t it? I.. Even when I wasnt as deep as i am now (again) into kagepro, ive always wanted to die on August 15. It holds meaning to me now as well. Every year I used to ask people to go out with me that day. I know im not brave enough to kill myself. I always hoped for a lil miracle i guess. Last year was the first year...I didn´t do anything. I just... I just hope this year i can make it. I hope the miracle happens this year....I can only hope......its too late for me to be saved, isn´t it? I never thought it´d be like this. I don´t get closure. I don´t get goodbyes. I am left behind on a world that keeps moving. I am nothing.

[umbillicalnoose]

i think that you would think im pretty and would like my poetry and i want to share it with you. im shy.

to be honest, im very apathetic these days. im not the nice “cutesy baby flower petal boy” i used to be. a lot has happened & im bitter & sullen & all in all, a pretty shitty friend/person to know. i used to possess some redeeming qualities, believe it or not, even if they were construed by the subconscious in an attempt to be likeable - a facade, even tho its only a facade, is still tangible, still there, is still something, even if not authentic. is poorer character forgivable in the name of presenting more authentically? but nah. that makes it sound like im putting effort into being a better person, which im not. im just sort of fried & done. its been a very long time since i played the role i built for myself on here of the “small fawn boy who wants to help girls” lmaooo. how embarrassing. altho, i was just a kid, & i guess, if you had a tumblr as a teenager, you went thru some cringe (i know the use of that word has fallen in on itself & adopted its own definition but for lack of a better one) ass phases, whether it was kinning or malingering mental illness or oh fucking christ, all that gender bullshit, etc etc. from what ive observed, tho, loosely following kids im still casually friends with that i met on here, i think we’ve all managed to Grow The Fuck Up, at least a little. most of us have jobs or r in school or have partners - growing up & moving on is a very surreal experience to watch/go thru. im moving at my own pace & ive accepted that - im still currently using & starving myself & concocting a suicide plan every day but at least i use clean needles as much as possible, i actively & honestly do strive for the bare minimum calorically, & um able to work with the mentality of “well ill have this when i need it but todays not that day” a lot more readily, in relation to suicide shit. ive finally found a therapist who Really Gets It, is a frontrunner internationally on ritual & extreme abuse & mind control. its pretty incredible what a few years with a good therapist can do. anyways. im sorry, i know you didnt ask for all this & im not even sure why i divulged. i guess, what tipped me off, was your attempt at sounsing “cute” - dude, cut that shit out, i promise youll be a lot better off. & i know everyone interchanges aspects of their personality based on who theyre talking to/who they percieve themselves to be talking to, but i feel like not a lot of people give enough credence to the internet & its hand in shaping/molding young people, kids, vulnerable dumbasses, especially tumblr (tho, i get that its a relatively new phenomenon) - u get a bunch of the “weird”, “alternative”, ““ostracized” kids together on a website, of course its gonna nurture a culture of hypervalidatoon & pretending to be sick in order to fit in to the point that its not an act anymore & exacerbation of symptoms & basically, just sucking each others dicks, sitting in ur own shit, & never ending coddling. & then, you have the older group of kids, who have played this game before but instead of helping or ignoring the Dumbshit kids, they indulge their own normally-buried-but-unleashed-by-internet-anonymity sadism/human instinct to just be fucking dicks & so now you have this vicious cycle of anger & hatred & fucking melodrama up the urethra. im sorry, i know im comig off as/am being harsh but god fuckin dammit yknow? also, this isnt directed at you, specifically, more of a generalized thing, @ myself included. so uh. i mean, if u still wanna share it with me after reading all this, id be happy to read ur poetry. i used to be over the top nice & then reverted to Major Asshole & am now trying to find that sweet middle spot - honoring & allowing myself to share my pain without putting it on others. which is really hard!! cuz becoming a Dick was difficult in that it forced me to be more honest with my true self & as such, more vulnerable - now in trying to become Kinda Nice again because despite being a pulsating scrotom, ive had the intense desire for friendship & human interaction, while simultaneously doing things that i was consciously aware was pushing others away - but then, if i pretend to be nice, where does that authenticity i worked for & was so scared of go? & i dont mean telling someone their new haircut looks nice even when it doesnt - thats just not being a dick. but i guess, those r the normal trials & tribulations of any relationship & adolescent developing identity. which is weird too - dealing with “normal” issues, i mean. whats the point if your life/limbs/breaking point arent at risk? whats the point when your best friends already dead. im sick of people calling "survivors” (despise that word, so fucking female-originated & overdramatic) “brave” & “strong” - surviving is not brave or strong. its just survival. you wouldnt call an animal brave for running for its life from a predator but you would call a dog courageous for going into a burning building to save its owner. premeditated action on the notion that you are probably going to be hurt is brave. being subjected to pain with no choice is not. theres no “silver lining” or anything “good” to be drawn from it either - sure it may have made x a more compassionate person or made y more introspective & gentle but you know what would have been even fucking better??? if the shit hadnt happened in the first place! let x be an asshole & y be self absorbed - the “benefits”, so to speak, do not outweigh the cost, not by a long fucking shot. its not only patronizing to hear garbage like that, but a slap in the face to know that anyone could possibly see anything good coming from that nightmare & that the characteristics, good or bad, you developed either in response to or as a result of, are worth praise. dont tell me im strong for doing what i had to to escape a torture chamber - tell me im perseverant for studying my ass off & passing that test last week. in the words of one of my dearest & most fucking brilliant friends, “pain doesnt owe me/you purpose - the need to intellectualize & assign meaning to pain & death is not only futile, but harmful.” & honestly, i think that it stems from weakness (in most cases - i realize theres a plethora of other reasons such as those who r just desperate for something to hold on to or r hyperintellectual & analytical or who have been pressured by external “support” systems to find the “good” etc etc) - while the majority of people view the person who “can find the good in everything” (strictly speaking only in relation to trauma/tragedy here & more in denunciation of those that celebrate this trait as opposed to vilifying “survivors” who respond this way, though in my experience, its very very very rarely the “survivor” that perpetrates this ideology ) as strong, i sort of see it as a weakness - their inability to sit with & absorb their own pain or that of others is so strong that not only do they have to frantically pull rainbows out of the teeth of a meat cleaver, they also have to exist within this strange (tho, not malicious - more subconscious) superiority complex. like, nah, dude, some times shit is just awful. you cant tell me anything fucking good came out of a four year old girl being kidnapped, gangraped, & tortured for two years, before being impaled & left to die on a stake. her mom opened a non profit organization? oh well thank fucking god for that!!! those that believe the latter to be more “enlightened” or whatever the fuck r the same people who say shit like “dying is easy - living is harder” & i get that that its supposed to be interpreted metaphorically for the most part - giving up is easy, trying isnt (which also.....isnt true??? admitting defeat & fully accepting the fact that ur fucking helpless is beyond hard lmao???) - but pretend youre somewhere, anywhere outside ur sunny little fucking yoga studio full of white women whos biggest issues r the pta & johnny whos failing math, & lets say your life is in real, imminent danger, a gun is to your head & i want you to not scream or cry or beg for ur life since dying is “easier”. if dying is so easy, why do the majority of ppl cling to it with such desperation - why is suicide illegal? why do some ppl go thru 100s of chemo treatments even tho the doctors say theyre just prolonging the inevitable, ppl who cut off a diseased arm so it wont spread, those who walk dozens of miles every day for food & water, etc? & i know & understand the survival instinct better than anyone, even when i wanted to die more than anything, my natural instincts would kick in with no conscious neural input & id do what i had to do. im not condemning those who cling to life (ok - a little. ur wasting resources out of ur own fear. but i also realize thats just me being a Fucking Asshole As Always cuz technically, im doing the same thing tho its more due to lack of opportunity rather than fear. i just think, societally, death should be more normalized, discussed, & not made out to be so unknown & scary), instead just reprimanding those who say shit like that (inspirational facebook quotes). especially cuz most of the ppl who do spew that shit have never gone thru anything even remotely difficult - their worst nightmare is a Big Scary Black Man grabbing them on the street, mugging them, & touching their tits. & i also know that these stupid ass sayings are to be applied to bullshit like exercise & fitness (“no pain no gain” is another one of my Favorites) & not fucking torture or even just ur run of the mill rape, even that would probably smash the rose tinted banana republic shades off their beverly hills tanned faces. but ive heard the no pain no gain one a handful of times in the last few weeks, specifically from doctors performing procedures in preparation for my bottom surgery. & i know its supposed to be encouraging & they have no way of knowing, but its just like, buddy, u have no idea who youre fucking talking to. & im starting to understand what THEY mean when they say it - pain with a reward is infinitely more tolerable than pain just for the sake of pain; like, a tattoo, it hurts, but u know, when its done, its gonna be sick as fuck. when u r able to fall back on the idea that its for something u rlly want, its A Lot easier to handle as opposed to pain thats Just Pain - theres no reward for it except, i guess, that the more u experience it, the closer u r to the end of it lmao. i mean, i still hate when ppl say it cuz for most of my life, pain was just pain, & the “reward” was the opportunity to go home at the end & so whenever ppl say that, my mind just immediately resorts back to that & im just like haha fuck u. but im trying to remember my experiences r definitely not universal & im starting to sorta understand what they mean i think. but, flipping gears here, & going back to the sentiment of “everything happens for a reason”, the base philosophy of psuedo deep Fuckwads - a girls dad didnt fuck her “for a reason”, everything doesnt happen “for a reason”. like ok, hypothetically, the kid he impregnated her with & that she was forced to have at 12 may surpass all odds & not become a homeless junkie & instead become a world renowned doctor who finds the cure for cancer. but she wasnt raped repeatedly from the age of six for that “reason”, no matter what anyone says & honestly, the liberation of the masses does not justify the suffering of one, especially a child. in my eyes at least. but again, im a bitter asshole. sorry i just Went The Fuck Off here oh my god.....if u read all this, thanks, pal. if not, thats cool too. but yea, send me ur stuff, id totally be down to read it. as for me potentially thinking ur cute, i have to look at my disgusting shitstain of a “face” every goddamn day so everyone else to me is fuckin aphrodite. but im also tryin to not put so much worth into physical appearance- its not something that should be complimented cuz its just smth a person was born with which is the same reason it shouldnt be insulted. this is gonna sound gay & stupid but i personally find that a persons essence & personality really permeates. you can meet someone who, objectively, isnt all that great looking, but once u get to know them, u really see their beauty - how the sun catches in their hair, their dilated pupils looking up at u from under long eyelashes in the dark, the birthmark on their right shoulder that they despise but that is so Them, the gap in their teeth, etc. & idk how to phrase this without it sounding like “well ur ugly but at least ur a good person”, cuz that only reiterates the societally indoctrinated emphasis on appearance & my kneejerk reaction to assure the person in question that thats not what im saying is only another result of that!!! its inescapable!!! but no, really, its not just a matter of “its on the inside that counts” - physically, they change or maybe, actually this is more likely, when i first meet them, my “default” eyes r just looking for features that i know im immediately attracted to (tall, blonde, sickly as in sunken eyes sticklike pale but still looks like she could & will beat the shit out of me) but as i fall in love or get to know them better, my eyes adjust & i notice & adore the beauty that was there all along. so uh. idk if ill think ur “cute”. but probably, yes, ill think ur an angel.

[sailor-cresselia]

Zi-O 43: Σ(°ロ°)

Previously, on Zi-O: Everything went to hell. This time, on Zi-O… well. Everything continues to be terrible, and quickly gets worse.

––

Hiryuu mocks Sougo for not being able to protect Tsukuyomi, which… okay, valid. But Sougo’s going through a lot right now, and he was kinda stopped by Woz. There’s just too many battles on too many fronts right now.

And then Hiryuu proceeds to kick the collective asses of Sougo, Geiz, and Tsukasa, the last of whom realizes that they are out of their depth, and yanks them away via a dimensional wall.

Man, those things are handy.

(continued under the cut)

––

After Woz’s recap, we head back to that ballroom/throne room that Hiryuu was lounging in earlier, with Swartz, Uhr, and a bound Tsukuyomi.

So the time stopping ability? Is supposed to be hereditary – it runs in his and Tsukuyomi’s family. Which, uh, remembering the time that Swartz dragged Sougo to when the kid was eight? That’s! Not helping! At all!

(Please don’t have Tsukuyomi be related to Sougo PLEASE don’t have Tsukuyomi be related to Sougo)

Swartz… intends to be the one on the throne. Uhr justifiably questions that – they were supposed to be finding someone to sit on the throne instead of Oma Zi-O. Except… well, technically speaking that’s what Swartz is doing. He just never told you the full story.

You know how I’ve been saying he’s had his candidate all along?

YEAH THAT SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN EVEN MORE ACCURATE THAN I THOUGHT.

And then he knocks Uhr to the ground, and Hora shows up – telling Uhr that Swartz gave Daiki the same powers that he gave them. (At least Daiki has the ‘decency’ to pretend to be embarrassed. “Was that supposed to be a secret?” indeed.)

Hey. Hey Swartz.

Screw you.

What can be given can also be taken away, as he so easily demonstrates…

Last episode he grabbed Daiki and forcibly implanted the time jacker powers into him.

Today he grabs Hora, and forcibly drains them from her, leaving her to fall to the ground, where Uhr barely manages to catch her, trying to back away. Hora’s not here right now – she’s incredibly limp, barely conscious, and I’m scared for her.

Good tactics on Uhr, though – using Tsukuyomi’s blaster to shoot at Swartz, who, as usual, deflects the blast without even looking. That’s just a distraction, though, so that Uhr can get the two of them out of there.

I’ve been telling you two kids to run for months now. He has never had your interests at heart, has never had the same agenda as you.

You really should have caught on during Kikai.

…Daiki, do not go along with Swartz’s orders to eliminate them. Don’t do that, you’re not going to get whatever he promised you. He just attacked his underlings, why on earth do you think he’ll follow through on any promises he makes to you?!

So, Daiki takes off, and now we’ve just got Swartz and Tsukuyomi.

…Is he going to give us actual LORE?! Are we ACTUALLY GETTING THE PLOT?!

Well, maybe. Only after the OP, though.

––

Or maybe not, because we jump back to 9-to-5.

Tsukasa admits that Daiki’s never had that particular power before, despite his sizable grab bag of powers – uh. Tsukasa. You just. Left all of that bread. In the helmet. Why are you using the helmet as a bread bowl. Tsukasa please.

…Junichiro PLEASE. NO. You can’t go save Tsukuyomi, you would DIE. Just… please, just go make dinner, okay? Please stay here, and save, and not making a fool of yourself like literally everyone is aware that you would do. You would not survive fighting these people, not when your ‘armor’ is sauce pans and veggies.

Oh no, poor Sougo – people still don’t remember him, including his uncle, so here comes the minor breakdown over Junichiro saying he’s never cooked for him before.

Geiz just pats him sympathetically on the shoulder.

––

And now back to Uhr and Hora, who are hiding out in… some abandoned restaurant or other, which for some reason still has all the tables set? Sure, whatever. Toku apocalypses are weird.

Uhr’s pissed that they’ve been being used – again, really should have caught on when he forcibly turned you into Another Kikai – and swears that he’s going to take Swartz down… and Hora doesn’t look like she’s doing so hot.

Even less so when Daiki shows up.

Yeah, I didn’t expect that he’d actually try to kill them. He’s in this for himself, first, foremost, and only. (I miss the photo studio polycule. Natsumi, Yusuke, please come ground this asshole.) So, he’s… just… okay, so he’s clearly got his eyes on a bigger prize than the Grand Watch, because he tosses it to Hora.

Of course, he has to make this whole ‘totally being the guard dog’ scam he’s pull look convincing, so… Daiki no. He calls in the two Another Riders who were searching for the two former time jackers – Another Faiz and Double.

––

As they’re running away, and even just as they’re in the restaurant, Uhr is his usual slightly bouncy self, albeit more furious than usual, but Hora’s not nearly so active. Yeah, she usually kind of lounges around, but she’s exhausted. We can see this even clearer when Another Faiz and Double have them cornered – Hora’s got eyebags under her eyebags, and looks like she had difficulty running however far they did, going by how she leans on the platform/loading dock they’re backed up to.

Geiz thinks this whole thing is a trap – why would Another Riders be chasing Time Jackers if it wasn’t – but Sougo’s still going to help them, even if it is a trap.

He’s too nice, but it’s also very necessary right now. At least he acknowledges the possibility of this being a trick, so that’s something.

Sougo’s gotten a lot more clever since we met him, and I’m proud.

The Another Riders are dispatched easily enough, and somehow by their respective RideArmors. Which. Uh. Shouldn’t those be part of the Grand watch right now? To say nothing of how altered-timeline Geiz probably shouldn’t have the Faiz watch anyway. …You know what, whatever. Not gonna question it any more than that.

Sougo asks why the Another Riders were after the pair, and Uhr tries to dismiss the whole thing as none of their concern, attempting to leave.

But Hora wants to ask a favor.

(Careful, guys. Last time she asked you for a favor, it was so that she could properly make the Another Kikai watch.)

(I’m more willing to trust her right now, though.)

(Although I trusted her back then, too.)

––

(TERRIFIED SCREAMING ENSUES ON THE PART OF THE BLOGGER)

OKAY I ACTUALLY WATCHED THIS SCENE COMPLETELY THROUGH BEFORE COMING BACK TO THE NOTES BECAUSE HOLY SHIT

holy shit

Okay so by “the power runs in their family” we apparently mean “the time powers are a trait in a ROYAL BLOODLINE.”

And by “Swartz and Tsukuyomi are part of a ROYAL BLOODLINE” we mean “one from a completely different timeline.”

And also mean Swartz is the sibling with the most power and he feels it would have been logical for him to be next in line for the throne.

But the role was going to go to his sister.

You know.

Tsukuyomi.

The amnesiac.

Who was not rendered that way accidentally.

No, because Swartz, the petty bastard that he is, erased her memories and dropped her in another timeline.

The Oma Zi-O timeline.

He didn’t expect her to survive.

But it’s nice that she did, and that her powers have awakened.

Because now he can take them from her.

Mind you, as he is saying all of this, he is losing his usual composure, and becoming increasingly visibly unhinged.

When she tries to run, he force lifts her in the air and starts painfully draining the power from her.

She’s saved by Woz timely (heh) running in and using a green burst of energy to break his focus, and she falls to the ground. Woz looks scared.

For all that he’s on umpteen levels of subterfuge, Woz might genuinely care about the trio. I hope. Please.

After all, he calls her ‘Tsukuyomi-kun’ and runs up to try and help her.

He doesn’t make it, unfortunately, because Swartz hurls him bodily into the wall – the part by the ceiling. The very high ceiling, and then he drops.

This is not fine at all.

Swartz: It was pretty blatant that you switched sides to get info, you know.

Woz: And yet you still revealed your plan. (ow) Thanks. (I am in so much pain)

Doesn’t matter to Swartz. He’s just going to take her power, and nobody will be able to stand in his way.

And he does. He force lifts Tsukuyomi again, and Woz can’t stop him, and he drains her power from her before letting her drop. She’s not moving. Woz scarf-teleports the two of them the hell out of there.

Swartz doesn’t seem to give a damn. He’s got what he wanted – and the aura of purple energy that surrounds him is scary. Not as scary as the laughter, though. Or as scary as the way his eyes glow purple right before the scene transition…

With the sound of an Another Watch activating.

––

Hora gives back the Grand watch, making Sougo swear that he’ll take down Swartz with it. And at least now we’ve got people on the same page – she and Uhr told Sougo and Geiz that Swartz intends to become king.

I think this is the first time everyone has had the same information, actually. Well, once we get back to 9-to-5, and a bedridden Tsukuyomi tells them that apparently her and Swartz are siblings. But even if they are related, she won’t let him do as he pleases.

Tsukasa says that he gets what’s going on… more or less. “No, I can’t actually tell you, Geiz, because I only mostly get it, and I have to keep up my chill demeanor somehow.”

And yeah, Woz was siding with Hiryuu to get information. Which makes sense – area man is on multiple levels of playing fields at all times. But Sougo, you really shouldn’t have had faith in him. I mean, I know that you don’t know that he’s most likely more loyal to Oma Zi-O than Kamen Rider Zi-O, but still.

So. No matter who it is – Swartz or Hiryuu – Sougo isn’t about to let them rule. Not like this. The first order of business, then, is that they have to take down Hiryuu and repair the timeline.

––

Time to storm the castle…

Or. Uh. Walk up to it through the woods, and stand in a line, seeing all the Another Riders there. Including Another Kuuga, of all things, hulking above the rest of them.

(Most of the another riders are being super generic, but I still noticed Another Fourze doing the hair straightening thing in the shot that included him, and that still makes me giggle a little.)

(Also, Tsukasa, if you could stop appearing so lackadaisical about this? We are entering a pretty decently sized fight here. I know you’re a veteran at this and all, but there’s a lot of enemies, and you have been getting your ass kicked lately. I’m just saying.)

Hiryuu goes on about how Sougo ruined his life, so he’s going to ‘wipe out Sougo’s very existence.’

Okay, so. Cool motive, still murder. Also your motive is wrong, because it’s all the fault of the guy what gave you the power in the first place, and this is very definitely not okay. I mean, you can’t just. Take over the world because of this. You can’t just change peoples entire histories for revenge.

Sougo agrees with most of my points. All except the one where it’s not Sougo’s fault in the first place. No, Sougo apologizes, saying he never meant to hurt Hiryuu.

(He never actually did, anyway, he saved his life, but… I mean really.)

When Sougo says that he’ll beat Hiryuu, and set things right… he’s so quiet. Subdued, even, especially compared to how he shouted that what Hiryuu is doing is wrong.

Huh.

––

THIS IS TOO MANY JINGLES AT ONCE.

MY POOR EARS.

I’M NOT EVEN WEARING HEADPHONES.

––

BWAHAHAHAHA!

They’re about to go attack, but-

Woz: IWAE! MY OVERLORD IS GONNA BEAT AN IMPOSTER DOWN, AND RECLAIM HIS RIGHTFUL THRONE!

Decade: …oh dear lord, he’s still doing this?

Geiz: He’s done this before?

Tsukasa: Oh, my sweet, summer, altered-timeline child…

––

So, we’ve got some fights going on here. Sougo and several Another Riders head for the woods, namely Ghost, Den-O, Hibiki, and Ryuki. Then Hiryuu shows up, trying to use the Zi-O II future-vision to get the drop on Sougo… who. Flashsteps out of the way?

Saying that it’s his power?

Huh.

––

And then over with Decade… he’s able to take down Another Double and Agito with Attack Ride: Blast.

Another Faiz, Kabuto, and Gaim manage to temporarily stall him, before he takes them out with Attack Ride: Slash. Also, I noticed Another Faiz doing that lean that Actual Faiz sometimes did, so that’s nice.

That’s five down, since we didn’t see Sougo defeat the ones he’s against.

But then Tsukasa gets shot in the back.

Diend: Hey again. You get to fight me.

…Has Daiki always used ‘boku’? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that before.

(What? I’m doing an Ex-Aid rewatch. I’m now contractually obligated to try and pay attention to which pronouns people use.)

Tsukasa knocks Daiki down-

Daiki: NOPE! freezes Tsukasa mid-attack prep

Tsukasa, internally, because he’s frozen: Oh shit

Daiki, to Swartz, who has been looking on like a creeper: How’s that?

Swartz: Sweet.

He then proceeds to take out a blank ridewatch.

Wait.

Shit.

A blank watch. With a rider present.

We’ve only seen a few Another Watches formed.

There’s only two Another Riders we haven’t seen.

Drive.

AND DECADE.

Swartz shoves the blank watch against Tsukasa’s chest, breaking the time stop.

And draining Tsukasa’s power. Painfully.

His armor goes grey, similar to the color as when he first puts it on, and seems to dissolve into smoke as he drops down offscreen, struggling in pain.

––

SURE, cut to a clearing! Not like that was REALLY IMPORTANT OR ANYTHING!

But it’s to see Woz Ginga and Geiz Revive Typhoon fighting a whole bunch of Another Riders.

Namely Build, Fourze, Kuuga (who’s a bit hard to miss), OOO, Blade, Ex-aid, and Kiva.

And the two riders are so confident that they’re having a nice little chat as they fight.

Namely, Geiz – still with his memories altered – asking if they really worked together in the other timeline.

Woz: Oh, yes, of course. You were my completely loyal underling, we both worked for our overlord.

Geiz: That’s bullshit. Quit lying.

Woz: …How’d he know? Well, it was worth a shot.

A pair of finishers later, and we’re down another seven Another Riders. That’s twelve confirmed down, and four seen in action, but with unconfirmed status, leaving sixteen Mook Another Riders – seventeen total, with Hiryuu. …Where the heck is Wizard? He’s the only one I haven’t seen yet… well, outside of the obvious two that we haven’t had yet.

Also, Woz’s finisher was him literally raining METEORS onto the battlefield. Because Woz Ginga can never be too over the top, apparently.

––

Back to the Zi-Os…

Sougo takes out his allotment of non-boss Another Riders, still with no sign of Wizard, I went back and looked and he hasn’t been on screen since the battle started.

But they’re down, and he’s started to lay the beat down on Hiryuu, who’s intensely frustrated that he can’t win.

Also, he’s fed up with all the speeches.

Sougo says that it’s because Hiryuu’s too focused on the past, while he is trying to forge a new future.

Finish Time! Grand Zi-O!

All Twenty!

Grand Zi-O leaps into the air for his finisher, and – HOLY SHIT.

THAT SURE IS ALL TWENTY HEISEI RIDERS.

BEING SUMMONED INTO THE AIR. IN THE CLASSIC RIDER KICK POSE.

Notably, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to the particular order they appear in, but they are located in the same places they are on the Grand Watch.

THAT SURE IS A FINISHER THOUGH.

It launches each rider in rapid succession, starting with Kuuga and going in order. As each one lands their kick, his respective emblem appears behind Hiryuu, finishing with Sougo landing a reality shattering kick.

Waves of rainbow energy expand outward, fixing the city, erasing the commemoration statue, and leaving Sougo…

––

And leaving Sougo, untransformed, having just landed a Rider Kick. And in a park, presumably the one they were in in the altered timeline, but where everything is repaired and normal.

Everything is very repaired, since Geiz and Tsukuyomi remember him again. But where…

Ah, there’s Hiryuu, collapsed on the ground a little ways away, reaching for his still intact Another Zi-O watch for crying out loud what will it take to destroy that thing?!

Well, I guess we’re not going to find out, since Daiki just up and takes it!

Oh, look, here’s Swartz, letting him take it! And telling Hiryuu that he’s served his purpose, and that he’ll meet up with the others again.

I can’t tell if he says this aloud, but… he says that Decade’s powers are his, and walks off.

Revealing a very unconscious Kadoya Tsukasa on the ground behind him.

––

The last shot of the episode…

Swartz, on a roof.

Holding the Another Decade watch.

“Now… let us begin.”

––

the endcard is Another Zi-O II (center), Another Decade (upper right) and… Another Hibiki (lower left), who are quickly replaced with Zi-O, Geiz, and Woz, respectively.

Why Hibiki, though?

––

Next time, on Kamen Rider Zi-O!

Another Drive appears!

Uhr and Hora are looking for protection!

A good water boy appears! Hi, Miharu! We’ve missed you! I can’t say that any of us expected that particular rumor, about Kamen Rider Aqua showing up, to be true, but here you are!

Yay!

And, in the significantly less ‘yay’ department…

Swartz appears to plan to be turning himself into Another Decade.

Whether that’s him under there or not, Anotehr Decade looks powerful, going by that wall of explosions he’s setting off.

––

So. One problem – Hiryuu’s reign of terror – has been dealt with, but now we’ve got a whole NEW set of problems! FUN TIMES!

[if-weshadows-haveoffended]

Strela Amura Part 2- Chekov x Reader

A/N: IM NOT DEAD BABEY! A SHOCK!!! THOUGHT THE VOID WOULD EAT ME BY NOW!!! Sorry, exams were a nightmare and I had three jobs at one point rip in pieces and now im unemployed because Uni is doing its goshdarned best to run me over with a semi-trailer. Anyway this took a bit longer than expected as I ended up re-writing it from Jim’s perspective 😊 

I took about a year hiatus from fic writing across the board and now im back so hopefully it’s a lot more active than it was my dudes <3

Title: Strela Amura (Cupid’s Arrow) (Part 2) Inspiration: here (x) Part 1: here (x) Prompt: here (x) Tags: Fluff, kinda-kirk’s-sister-but-kinda-not, Chekov and reader are doing their level best to give (and not give) Kirk a heart attack, Spock probably laughs in the distance as best as a vulcan can Words: 1400+ Masterpost: here (x) Prompt List: here (x) Mixtape Archive: here (x)

James Tiberius Kirk had very nearly had it UP TO HERE with his youthful navigator.

What was it about curls? Was it the accent? Was it the ability to calculate multi-variable calculus and integrate functions with limits to positive and negative infinity in under thirty seconds?

He wasn’t entirely sure anymore.

“Jim!”

“Keptin!”

He stared at the pair in general, his younger ‘sister’ and his navigator, uniforms off and dripping wet, standing inside one of Scotty’s little maintenance closets, clothes strewn all over the floor.

“Jim, there’s a perfectly reasonable and totally-not-erotic reason for all of this,” His ‘sister’ tried explaining. He just let go of a very long-suffering sigh.

Perhaps he should start from the very beginning.

They’d somehow managed to get out of the freezing hell-hole that was 1886 St Petersburg. Jim would be the first to admit that it was definitely a team effort on the part of Scotty’s incredible engineering feats, Spock’s quick thinking, Sulu’s fencing and the combined efforts of Uhura and Chekov in translation. In fact, the only real problem they’d had was Bones’ grumbling and incessant fussing over his younger ‘sister’s’ health.

He’d almost forgotten how much he’d missed her passion and enthusiasm for knowledge and adventure.

Though apparently, it seemed to extend to his very adorable navigator.

It was probably… at least three hours max back on the ship before he’d had Sulu report back to him. Apparently, cute lil’ sister thought it’d be very polite of her to help strip off Chekov’s ridiculously knotted cravat… and his coat… and help unbutton his shirt… and help take it off…

And well, according to Sulu, who was too busy laughing his traitor ass off, said little sister got incredibly flustered as she helped bandage up a wound that Fairy Tale Prince over there thought would be incredibly brave and dashing.

Bones later told him it was just a flesh wound.

The fact it was on his upper thigh most certainly didn’t help.

Then there was of course the incident at the Mess Hall, where Chekov allowed her to daintily take a bite of his stroganoff from his fork. Which she, of course, did so with a slight giggle before hiding her face in her hands in total embarrassment.

He wanted to puke from the cuteness.

But of course, of course, it ONLY GOT WORSE FROM THERE.

Jim, personally, didn’t have a problem with staff inter-personal relationships, after all it was none of his business and it would be for the best if he stayed in his metaphorical galactic lane. And after all, his sister was an adult, and not even his own biological sister at that. Not that it didn’t mean he wasn’t any less protective…

No, he needed to stop being so protective. She was perfectly fine gallivanting off to the other side of the universe in search of teensy bits of pottery.

But there was just something that caught in his throat, every time he caught Ensign Chekov flexing his arms around her, or deliberately flirting with her with some of the cheesiest lines Jim had heard in his entire life (and he’d heard… more like delivered… quite a lot of them).

And not to mention, Jim also highly doubted that the phrase ‘give you an education on the complexities of Russian language’ was to be taken at face-value.

Although, apparently Bones and Spock (goddamned fucking Spock) found it amusing to see him so constipated at the ongoing events and their all-too-fast unfolding. It was like that one time Sulu decided to take the phrase ‘punch it’ quite literally, and travelled at speeds so fast that it required use of seatbelts. Bones would often mutter something about the pair needing to use protection under his breath as he would spy the pair innocently grin at each other from across the mess hall. Spock would often ask if he needed to brush-up on human marriage customs and their festivity traditions, and perhaps if he was prepared to be an uncle.

And perhaps Jim could do it. Perhaps he could take all the teasing and all the embarrassment up to that exact point.

But Ensign Pavel Andreivich Chekov had just crossed the fucking line.

Jim was gonna have to pluck out both his eyes.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Jim watched as the pair them (rather Chekov) jumped about four feet back from his sister. Jim’s traitor little sister (as he was now calling her in his head) was wearing nothing but her underwear, sitting on a med-bay bed and had a rather red Russian kneeling on the med bay floor with his shirt off and his head between her thighs.

Not fucking again. This was worse than St Petersburg already.

He taught her better than this, surely. Surely he told her to draw the curtains and leave some form of warning in the form of a tie or a boot hanging off a door!?

“What!” His (he wasn’t sure if he could call her his sister anymore, he couldn’t deal with the stress) sister blurted out, covering herself up with her discarded jumper. “No! It’s perfectly fine, it’s nothing really!”

“Nothing? You two hooking up on Bones’ thrice disinfected med-bay equipment is nothing?” Jim clarified. The girl had a death wish, surely, and she was dragging poor innocent little Chekov with her. He should have protected Chekov better. He should have warned him that despite appearances, his little sister was incredibly persuasive.

“Hooking-hooking up?” Chekov managed to choke out, looking absolutely terrified of the situation at hand. He seemed to be panicking and the red in his face and spread to his ears and neck. “We’re not-“

“Jimmy, darling dearest brother,” His sister said with a long-suffering sigh and a pinch of her nose bridge. “There was a chemical spill in the labs. We’ve both just gotten hosed down, you can even confirm our alibi with Spock. He’ll probably do a report later today.”

“I wasn’t eating your sister out, I swear!” Jim could feel his heart actually stop beating the moment his navigator shouted it out at an uncharacteristically high-pitched way. He swore he could hear his sister mumble out ‘I wouldn’t mind if you did,’ under her breath. “I was just picking up my PADD.”

“Which he needed to double check that this rash on my leg was due to an allergic reaction when the fabric of my trousers met the acid.” His sister continued for him. “Really Jim, you’re literally the only person who thinks that we’re up to something suspicious.”

“Unless you’d like us to be up to that, Keptin.” Chekov piped up cheerfully with a sunny grin. “You free later tonight?”

“Yes of course I am.” His sister agreed with a cheeky wink. “I’d say at my place but it’s far too close to my dear brother’s quarters for us to get up to anything particularly loud.”

“HOLD ON A SECOND YOUND LADY I MAY NOT BE RELATED-“

“Yes, I zink zat karaoke contest would be easier done at mine.” Jim’s mouth fell open while he watched the conversation unfold casually, as the pair got dressed.

“You’re on Pasha,” She winked putting on a large t-shirt and gathering up her clothes in a messy bundle in her arms.

Jim stared pointedly down at his shoes. Perhaps he was over-reacting… just a little. He just couldn’t help the possibility that these two golden, happy things may break their hearts. And it was simply something he didn’t want to have to deal with. Neither of them deserved heartbreak, that wrenching feeling growing a little bit in his heart.

He took one last glance at the pair of them, laughing as she nudged him into one of the nursing bay beds. Perhaps he should let them get to know one another, after all, she was a (barely) a fully grown adult and Chekov was also fairly responsible if he wasn’t getting into any hijinks-

He did a double-take, unsure if he just watched his little sister not-so-subtly tap Chekov on the ass, to which the young navigator responded with a wink.

Kirk wasn’t sure how the rest of his day was going to turn out, but he made a mental note to see if Bones would be free to diagnose the alcohol-induced liver failure he was about to incur in order to forget ever seeing that.

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Join me for Coffee sometimes.

I am sitting at a Mexican restaurant called 'Mexicali's' today for a change and in favor of my friend who decided to take a rare chance to do something different. It's not everyday we decided to do something different, mostly my 'older' friend, due to the fact that we loved the peaceful moments of not dealing with the criminals and the mafias at the moment.

I am a bit embarrassed on the establishment with the clean, colorful settings and I'm just in my normal wear. It's not 'first class fancy,' but it's a really nice restaurant to go out. The owners were a Latino family that immigrated years back, worked REALLY hard to get the place and they proudly officially opened for business!

Of course, there was an issue with the process of buying the property. It's not the seller, the building or even the price. But it was the other 'buyer' who wanted to have the location to opened up another Italian restaurant.

I have NOTHING against Italian food, I do like them and knew quite a few so Kitty can take a break once or twice a night. I'm not sexist. It's just there's already five in Chicago already and I wanted to have something different other than pastas and pizzas! Back to this story, their competitors were not happy with them moving in with their food cultures and other stuff that I found really unfair and SO UNCALLED for! Just to say the least...

It wasn't long that the police, which my team was still part of, got a tip and some accusations of them depicted as 'criminals' and then some just so that it would be harder for them and easier for their 'rivals' to acquire it smoothly. I think it was a bit of a misunderstandings while most think it's 'legitimate' and I wasn't the only one. Sam thinks it's too and he also recognized the other 'buyer's' name!

He's only known in public image as an owner of all the Italian Restaurants but like Bendy behind that mask, he's also a Mafia boss that's in alliance with the Alfonso's! He told me that they're on neutral terms, but they're on thin ice with their relations lately...

So long story short, I did my investigations, uncovered what's real, what's not, uncovered the other mafia's secrets and then once we've hit the court room stage, it's final verdict was now in the press.

Italian Mob boss Arrested! Mexican family not guilty!

I had to admit that we almost lost at the end until that last detail that the 'witness' had slipped had caught mine and then Sam's attention.

It was tiring that almost all of our defense cases were close calls, but until Sheba is back with her full confidence, Sam is playing both hand decks and it's gotta be really hard in my point of view. Even if both of them are pretty good, it's almost hard to look at every evidence, rules, laws, and so on. It feels like I'm just doing the 'easy' portion of the trials...

Unless you're not in good shape and fighting against an Olympic Lunatic that runs the Underworld of Chicago.

I then noticed a child's voice at another table with what I assumed a mother with her son. They were having their little quality time together with her holding the menu card and her assumed son drawing something that looks like a dinosaur. She smiled and she patted his head as to say 'good job.'

I smiled sadly at that. It reminded me of my sister if she was still alive today. She would be a great mother like she was to me when I was growing up at that age. I never knew my mother and my father was barely at home but he raised us properly. It's frustrating that she would never had the chance to play with the twins, praised their abilities and watch them grow up...

But now I had to take over for her and for my father too. I knew that my uncles and the relatives insisted that they can do it, I still declined and wanted them to be raised here because of the whole new continents and the cultures they're not used to where they're at.

Despite the hardships, I finally did do a decent job so far, with some bumps but I think we're good for now. They even trusted me more than ever...

Speaking of trust... I then remembered my friend who had yet to show up. I then got a word from the waitress that they had a phone call from him saying that he will be a few minutes late. I nodded and said I can still wait.

I then look out the window to daydream a bit to kill time... I noticed a bust from a shop across the street that reminded that first case that I worked as an official detective, two years ago...

---Time travelling on a rainbow, Nyan Cat!----

It was supposed to be here, right? I thought as I examined the attached, block buildings from the sidewalk. They all said that this was an 'average' neighborhood, but this is like for the 'well-do' class like a doctor or a lawyer. I needed to find my lawyer for three reasons.

One: He helped me narrow down the six busts of Anubis in a 'vandalized' bizarre case and uncovered the missing Pharaoh’s Pearl that got stolen from a museum.

Two: I was saved from Bendy and Boris when I found out that this was one of their quick money schemes by a tall, dark mysterious black suited and mask man, They were taken down by his throw downs and my quick thinking with Bendy when he almost got him.

Three: he dropped his wallet without noticing when he disappeared... and I found out just who he was.

Which leads me to the next three things: I want answers!

I then head someone disputing a few houses down the streets and I saw the man I was looking for, smirking and walking with his Border Collie dog. I think that beautiful canine might be potentially deadly when she saw me and then ran at me with it's sharp teeth.

Border Collies are known for being territorial and very loyal to it's owner asides it's history of being an ideal 'sheep dog.'

I stood very still with my hand sticking out to halt him or her, I don't know it's gender yet, just to show I'm not here to pick a fight or murdering anyone.

But then to my surprise, he/she then started to slow down and got less aggressive as he/she sniffed my hand. Then like any other 'vicious' guard dogs that I've encountered, he/she licked it and was friendly again. It was an odd thing that I'm a 'cat' person yet for some odd reason, dogs liked me.

“That's a first, she never done THAT before. Most people would be running from aggressive, territorial dogs and Tiara wouldn't be this friendly to first time strangers at our home.” My expected 'suspect' said with a confused look once he caught up.

So the dog's a girl and she's very pretty. Kinda what you expect when someone's probably have a much bigger income than I currently have. “Hi, I'm the guy that was from that coffee shop a few-”

“Yeah, you're that new kid detective that came for the sales record papers. Did you need anything else?” He asked as he and his dog walked up to their home. I needed to have my answers from that night, but I needed to be careful because the way he took out both of them, it's insane! Boris has super muscles, Bendy has demon speed but this guy, despite his tall and lean look, is not to be underestimated! I think it's one of those Eastern boxing techniques and something with wind elements...

But none the less, I still want to know. I took out his wallet. “I found this and I believed that's yours. Everything is still in there.” He swiped is so quickly and that's when I knew I found my smoking gun.

“Thanks for returning it and not going on a shopping spree. Tell your parents they did a good job raising ya!” He was about to close his door shut until I instinctively had to say something, grab it quick and force it opened. Only ended up him whacked his forehead on the top door's frame, said something like 'tavern nackle' and then falls flat on the pavement. His dog barked and sniffed at this head.

Great! I made a new fried who's gonna sue me for aggravated assault after my first case!

Upon his looks at me like I just pissed him off, the only expression I made as horrified and I blabbed out. “I'm so sorry! I didn't-” He then halted me in gesture and got up. “Save it! My door frames alone already told me I'm too tall and this is not the first time sh!t like this happens.” He wrinkled his nose and gently rubs it.

“Listen, I need to talk you... inside. It's about that case and... other stuff I've uncovered. I know how and where that wallet came from.” I tried to convince him and I wanted to settle this peacefully. He stared me down like he was suspicious of me and then he sighed. “You don't seems like you're gonna blab it out to everyone...” I immediately shook my head in his agreement. I may be doing my job in the name of justice, but I wanted to do it the right way.

“I wouldn't without solid proof and well... you did helped. Twice. Was it because you wanted to help others? Or was is a promise you made for some one like me? Or any reason why you became an attorney?” I was asking so many questions until I noticed some sadness in his glaring stare... Have I said something I shouldn't have?

He then sighed and all that tension from glaring disappeared.“Kid, come in. It's a long story.” He tilted his head to gesture 'get in there.' Normally, I would get bad vibes from suspicious characters, but this guy despite a potential suspect, didn't seem like he was a bad guy... at first.

We got inside and I was... quite surprised. It was so simple yet the furniture reminded me of the 20's styled in great condition. I noticed some book shelves with many well, books, and then some old family photos, some medals, more photos in air gears, some items displayed like monuments and what stood out to me the most was that one, huge piece that was leaning aside from the large book shelves. It was a beat up piece of a propeller.

“May I ask what's with this um... fascinating piece you got leaning?” I politely asked as I sat down on the big couch. He was searching in the drawers for something. “Yeah, that was part of that one plane that I used to fly in the European war about a decade back.”

European war about a decade back? Isn't that...? “You fought in the WWII war?” My eyes gleamed to a hero of that infamous war! Sure the Americans joined in two years later in that and I do respect them too, but this is... amazing that I met someone had fought, survived and live to tell the tale.

“T'che! Who do you think I was doing almost ten years ago? The 'Coco’ Chanel and mess around the Nazi spies?” He said it like he doesn't care about it and cuts my 'hopeful' feelings in half. I wasn't asking disrespectfully on purpose... He was kinda rude.

“I joined in the air force as a 'delivery boy' for carrying supplies and other sh!t I had to do. After a few years when times got rough, I was 'promoted' to join the fights in the air. I wasn't perfect but at least I get the job done.” I was thinking about while I was at that age at the time. I was doing my homework while he was up in the air fighting off the most evil people in the 20th century. I am so far behind his level...

“I did had my fair share of working with people who we all had a common goal. The British, the French resistance, the 'neutral' Swiss. Not the cheese one. We ALL wanted to end the Nazi regime and stop their 'Aryan race' ideology or else 3/4 of the world would not survive up to this day.” He lay down his old book full of photographs and I was looking through all of his photo shots with his groups and others who had joined the cause. Most of them was taken with one or two 'similar' person... I didn't had to ask why he was with so many different people he worked with cause I knew that there was so many lives were lost in that war. Even if some DID lived to tell the tale, I think he would bother to tell me upon first impressions...

“At that time, I only wanted one thing the most from my partners. Loyalty. They can cuss, b!tched out anything, vomit only the outside of the plane because of air sickness, but if they back-stabbed me in the name of the swastika or anything, I ain't afraid to cut them out cold.” Schhk!

I heard like something like a sword unsheathed and I saw something sharp from his right sleeves. It was a knife! “This is me being 'nice' since you seem like the type that doesn't run it's mouth at every little thing. I'm just be as 'polite' as I can but if you double-cross me, I'll send you to the morgue faster than a paycheck spend in a day.”

Now he's threatening me if I tried to turn him in! But I then 'see' something he's holding back. Not the 'other' weapon in another arm, but something about the past in silhouettes behind him... like a woman with another man... and then I saw a small window vision like someone's vision was fading and saw a person with a parachute opened...

I knew that I had yet to ask this, but by hearing this, getting to know his 'present' character, saw a few family photos and 'saw' something hidden...

“Sam... did something happened that made you lose your trust in people?” He gasped with wide eyes opened. I'm now scared of my own safety and what's gonna happened to my family... But I needed to know why.

“I-Im not gonna say what is right or wrong. I can't judge what you might have done or reacted to what happened that made you suspicious towards people. But I want to understand how and why you're acting distance to so many people. I've only saw you twice after that very first meeting and you look like you could have murdered someone if you wanted.”

He then rested his face beck to it's neutral self. “If you're gonna say that 'what if I say I'm like that?' I would ask why did you help me not once, but twice to save my life? I know you're not as bad as those other attorneys says about you when I asked where were you all this time.” I sat very still to wait for his reaction. Is he gonna throw me out in the streets? Yell at me for spouting non-sense? Or is he gonna do anything at all?

He sighed and then started to explain. “Kid, I'll tell you a little something that I learned the hard way when I was around your age. Sit down for a while. It's a bit of a long story so make yourself comfortable.” He sat down comfortably as I was too. “Back in my high school years, I used to date this girl that I liked and I really thought that we really love each other. A real, mushy, teenage love story I used to have. Her name was Nell but we all called her Nelly. I had that dream one day after college once and made enough as a prosecutor, I would ask that 'big question' for her hand in marriage. I also have a twin brother, Simon, who's a Mountie. That's what you might called the Canadian police in that country. He's that eternal Optimistic, yuppy-peace talk, tree hugging, good  manner, good nature conscious @$$hole since we were born. Think of it as polar opposites of our characteristics that 'compliments' each other, OK?”

My eyes 'senses' indicated that on his left hand that he doesn't have the ring...

“Did she refused or something happened to her?”

He shook his head. “Nah... I found out that her feelings and mine weren't the same... Like a knife through the chest, I caught her and my twin brother together alone behind the barn that we used to own. It was after my last part time shift I've done for my college preparations. I even heard their whole conversations and I found out the truth that I was 'really' not happy with. She and my brother were in love. She did admitted that she does like me but... more like a friend and that those times we went to date was so that she doesn't upset me... Wanna guess how my 'feelings' went out the window faster than throwing out cold coffee back then?” He then got up a bit and reached over the shelves to grab a photo frame. “That's when I interrupted their little rendez-vous and I immediately said a lot of sh!t about what I've heard and my thought. I even finished throwing a punch at my twin's face, not caring that I probably broke his nose and then I left for colleague in Montréal. Since then, I dedicated my whole time for my licenced bar and I ignored any letters from home. I was still angry at them and I even discarded their wedding invitation. You can guess how my parents were furious when I said I couldn't come when I came up an excuse... I avoided their supposed 'reunion', both them and the newly weds, when I decided to take a hold in my education and joined the air force for WW2 as a 'delivery boy.'” He places the photo frame face down next to the night table where he is.

“Were you really... so upset about finding out the truth of her that you avoided any contacts with her and even your own family?” I had moments that I wanted to avoid at all cost, but I knew better now that I can't run from my problems cause it's never gonna solve anything but delaying.

“It's not that I was afraid, I just didn't want to deal with them after that.” That still means you're afraid of facing them when you acted out that night. “Anyways, I was then drafted to the air strips, learned how to fly those flying death machines and minded my own business in the war. I delivered the supplies and goods for the army and occasionally for old England when their times were tough about short supplies coming in and out. I have plenty of war stories that would go on and on, but I'll save it for another rainy day.”

I admit that I wanted to hear them, but I decided to respect that so we can continue his story. “As much as there was so many sh!t storms we've got ourselves into, I admit that I did found a new family, if you'd call it that. Random strangers you'd probably never met once before-” He got up and took another photo frame from the shelves, this time it was a group of people in their flight jackets. I can tell that one of them was the younger version of him that's about my age and he looked like he was having a great time with that bright smile. “-but it was close enough.”

He then proceeded to tell me each of them and then once he finished, he said. “We could all been having a good life by now...”

He then violently slammed the photo frame on the coffee table in between us and I heard something cracked. “IF IT WASN'T FOR THAT OSTIE-CRISS-DE-PIECE-D'HUMAIN-MARDE PAUL HAVEN'T PULLED A SUICIDE MISSION AND IF I WAS SMART FOR FIVE BUCKS...” He took a deep breath to calm him down when he noticed that I curled myself into a ball on my seat with eyes wide opened. He cleared his throat and continued. “Well... me and the others were completely clueless when we found out. It was a few months near the end game, 'V-Day' as they called it. We were supposed to transport some goods to the allied soldiers from Egypt to Italy. There was some sort of malfunction problems with most of the planes except for that big one... We didn't have much choice but all four of us embarked it cause some supplies were a bit heavy or many. At that time I, well, 'we' all thought that it would be fine since it was all five of us in one flying tank. It was about in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea when it started. Paul said he might have notice something in the cargo, so he and Cameron, who he volunteered to come along, tagged along while Jesse and myself were just relaxing. I wished that I would have taken his place instead, but I wasn't aware. We both heard a gun shot and Cameron's last cry. I got up and ran at the back with Jesse not far behind. When I opened the door, I was immediately hit from the bullet in the chest. Then I was knocked out... for a few minutes until my blurry vision came and I felt like we were falling vertically. Last I saw before I blacked out again, was Paul opening the emergency door with his parachute.”

My heart sank a whole lot when I heard that. Not only he was betrayed once, but twice! How can anyone abuse such a strong person like him despite some flaws? And why did that Paul guy back stabbed them and almost killed all his crew mates? Did he still believed that the 'Evil' teams were still winning if he does this?

“I barely remembered what exactly happened after that, but they told me from some account that I was found among the remains of our plane by some shipmates from Egypt. I woke up in that country's hospital when they told me that and I was pretty much feel empty on the inside again. It was my second time that I was betrayed by someone that I trusted and I almost completely swore myself never to trust or have another friend as long as I lived. Well... until someone had to change my mind.” I tilted my head to know who.

“During those days that I was bed bound in that make shift hospital, the last person that I wanted to see or even hear from was my twin, Simon. He somewhat learned about me being here and all that jazz, so he came here on his own while Nelly, his wife and my 'ex', was waiting back home... with their kids that I soon learned that I'm an uncle but I had no idea because I cut my ties with them since then. I was too angry from that night.”

He's an uncle like me! My eyes sparkled with joy. “I was even in big surprise that they had triplets.” I almost choked. Triplets?! I had enough trouble with twins but triplets? Oy yoy yoy! “You've got more on your plate than I do!” I said to that.

“Well, they're THEIR kids so I'm just a 'support' guardian so it's not THAT big of a deal for me. Back on topic, I was still not talking to him when he came and started to cry and apologized. I would have throw him out with a throwing technique, but in my condition back then, all I could do at the moment was lie on my back. I was annoyed that he still keep talking and was still insisted that he's gonna change my mind.”

I tiled my head. “And... what happened next?”

“Well, at first I wasn't gonna listen, but when you're bed bound from injuries, boredom would be almost intolerable and well... he DID kinda risk himself and spared his time to see me despite what happened so... I just listened. Turns out that when he and Nelly met the first time, it wasn't love at the start, but then when we started to date more, I wasn't aware that Nelly didn't like me as much as she wanted and that I wasn't exactly right for her. Unlike my twin, I was more serious, smart@$$-ery, indoor guy yet clever, a bit 'too honest' for my own good and I was more 'pessimistic' realistic sometimes. She's not saying that I was a 'bad guy' but I'm just well... wasn't just right for her. Let's just say.”

“So... she wanted to be with your brother instead cause he's more positive and much more... er... NOT that I'm saying you're bad either just well-”

“You don't need to beat around the bush. I preferred to be honest and tell the truth, even if it's hard and it might piss off people sometimes. That may not get many friends, but it will get the right ones. I will admit that I may come across rude sometimes, but I don't like to hide from the truth. Think of it as makeups: You can cover it up for the moment, but sooner or later, your true face will be revealed.”

“I remembered you saying something like that from that coffee shop. I do like honesty in people, but maybe if you try to explain to them in a nicer way, at least they'll respect you AND know you're much nicer than you look.” I know that he's an adult and that he's capable of making his own decisions, but sometimes it's alright to take some advice once in a while.

“I'll keep that in mind. After that was explained, he then told me what I had missed for almost eight years. You know the usual: weddings, babies, stupid parent hood stories with their kids, and how they're all looked like me for somewhat reasons. I didn't done it.”

I gasped. “My nephews look almost like me too!” He raised an eye brow with astonishment. “Seriously? What are the odds?”

“I'd love to tell more, but I still wanted to hear the rest of your story. What happened after you two talked?” I didn't meant to derailed his story, but it was really nice that I found someone who understands being an uncle/parent.

He then resumed. “Like I've said, it was hard, but after a while, I then started to think of all that happened from that time and then I realized of how I was wrong of thinking about the whole thing. I was furious when I found out about them, I was neglectful of all the letters they've send me for returning and for forgiveness apart for some family news, and how my only brother that still cared for me despite of all those years that I wasn't. Like I've said about him, he's a dummy goodie two-shoes, but he's got his heart in the right place. Then it's was time that I started to admit that I was wrong and that I was the one to apologize instead. I also told him that I would have turned back to that night so that we could have ended it more peacefully instead of tears.”

Then the Collie, Tiara, stared to whine with her dog bowl in her mouth once we turned to the direction of the sound. “Ah, tabarnak. Désolé, Tiara. J'ai completement oublié. I'll get your water.” His bilingual accent is really captivating and interesting. He got up from his seat and I did too to follow them in the kitchen. “Ah yes, did I forgot to mentioned that Tiara also came from Egypt, despite being a Border Collie and she was rescued from cross fires with the locals and the remaining Nazis that were hiding there?”

Another amazement! “No. Way-!?” I then 'sensed' something hidden in the kitchen. Oh no, not now! I just got on good terms with him and now it wants me to 'show' me something?

I did my best to ignore it and hoped that I would have a break from 'it.' But unfortunately, I haven't learned my lessons about my 'abilities.' No matter how many times I tried, it will be persistent and will be 'forceful.' My body then moved to move against my will and I was then staring at that one picture with two birds. One with a toucan and a flamingo. My 'sights' then showed me that there were some papers and items that seems like evidences in some sort of a safe box.

Is my sight telling me that he's hiding something important? Like, was he hiding crucial evidence for something? Blackmailing? Anything?

He then said to me. “What were you looking at?” I got surprised. So I had to make an excuse. “I-I was just wondering about this art. It's very tropical! I really like this! You have great taste with this painting!” I did my best to avert my real reason. Sam however, noticed that I was hiding something.

“Really? Just the picture? Do you ever wondered if there was something hiding behind? Like one of them detective gut feeling?” He looked at me like I haven't said something important. I tried to joked. “Ha! Good one! Like the ones in Noir movies if you're rich enough.”

“True, like I’m hiding some important documents from a case I'm currently working on.” He suggested.

“Yeah... Or maybe some important evidence small enough?” I 'innocently' said while I scratched my back.

“Or maybe say... a small, wooden box?” He then suggested. “Mmmm... maybe if it's small enough, yes it would be a possibility.” I said with my eyes glued to the floor.

I then felt a tap on my head and I looked up to a pair of staring eyes. “Or maybe someone's not being completely honest about what he said. Did you know I have a 'knack' of finding out the truth in a bizarre way?” He crossed his arms and was expecting me to tell him what I know. After hearing his story, I can't blame him for suspecting treason for the third time

I then felt terrified in a long time. What am I supposed to say? I have 'super vision powers' to see the truth and secrets, please spare me? I begged him. “Please Mr. Toucan! I don't want to cause any trouble! I know you're not a bad person, but I really can't say what I know! I'm the only person that my own nephews can trust after-ah!” Then Tiara plopped on me like she wanted to lick my face. I then started to giggle a bit until she had snatched something VERY important and irreplaceable!

It was my special necklace... My mom's and my sister's special necklace!

“Give that back, Tiara!” I tried to get it back, but she was quicker and she handed it to Sam. “Please! Don't break it or take it away! It's very important to me!” I was scared and I was almost into tears.

He noticed my appearance and he softened a bit. “Easy. I'm not that type of person to pick someone like you. I just wanted to know the truth.” He said.

I didn't know that I was being too scared over this, but what I needed right now was that necklace. “I... I know what you wanted, but please! I don't want to be send to a mental hospital! My nephews are my only family left and vice versa! They can't go my relatives over seas right now! They're too young to understand-”

He then clamped my mouth. “Whoa!Whoa!Whoa! Slow down! I never said I was gonna turn you in. I'm asking how you knew something about that portrait I kept it a secret.” He tries to calm me.

I shook a bit but I was a bit relieved. He decided to hand over my necklace and I held it very close. “I... Thank you. I'm sorry... I've... had this ever since my sister gave it to me when I was fifteen. She told me that it used to belong to my mother that I never knew and that she told me that it was rightfully mine. Although, I never understood why, but it feels very special to me.”

“You've also mentioned about nephews and being the only one. Care to share that story?” He asked. Well... I decided to tell him about it.

After a while... I explained on my sister and my father's demise and my relatives.

“I see. So you're almost a single parent, but you could have asked one of your relatives to help out. I'm pretty sure they'll be more than happy to see them more often.” He asked as he handed over a cup of hot milk.

“Thanks. I know that they even insisted, but the thing is, I'm not sure that Inky or Winky are ready or mature enough to live with them. They ARE my sister's. They're nice but sometimes a bit of trouble makers. I'm afraid that they'll be spoiled or they'll give more hard time for them when they're supposed to be enjoying their golden years after raising kids.” I explained.

“I'm pretty sure that they wanted you to have some freedom at your age. Lots of guys wanted to have freedom. I was no exception despite some circumstances.” Sam said.

“I know what you meant, but I made a promise to my sister that I will be there for them. Luckily for me, they all understood and they said that they'll be there if I needed them. I was told by some that I'm so much more mature than my 'look a like' cousin... Which is a story for another time...” I scratched my head and took a sip.

“I can wait for that. However, I still wanted to know what's the deal earlier before you panicked. I'm not going to turn you in, I just... had a 'knacking' feeling you were hiding something.”

I gulped at that. Is it really alright with me telling him? Even if we've met 'officially' the second time?

“I... would you believe that I have a 'talent' that can see things... hidden and... other things?” I shookly spoke. That's it. I'm done for.

He then patted on my head like a kid brother. “Hey. You weren't lying. So I believe you.”

I opened my eyes wide open to him. See if he was lying, but he wasn't. “You... believed me? Just like that?”

“You want to know how I knew and why I do?” He then pointed at his nose. “Remember that part about that plane accident? My nose had somewhat started to act funny when people lie or hiding something. Not for sneezing, but more like irritating and it makes me pissed. Depending on who they are and my mood, my manners are from one to f#ck you. Just a penny for thoughts if I ever done that to you. I've been through a lot and now I barely give a damn now a days.”

Apart that last piece he can detect lies with his nose? Huh! Guess we're not so different at all.

“Say, Sam. Have you ever made new friends here since you've moved?” I asked.

“Most of the people at the court house are a bunch of Willy Wonkas and think they can please and sugar coat everyone and everything. I only dropped in their conversations if sh!t hits the fans when they screw up big time.”

Guess I have much work to do with him.

----- Woken up from cloud 7-----

“Hey! Sleepy head! Wake up! He's almost here!” The voice of Kitty had woken me up. I saw her and my nephews all excited. “Huh? Wha?”

“Uncle! It's Uncle Sam's birthday! Remember?” Inky shouted. “And his family is coming over from Canada! You told us, remember?” Winky in turn shouted.

“Boys! This is a restaurant! Use your inside voices.” I shushed them. “And no, didn't forget.”

Truth is, the reason why we decided to hold it here was today, is in fact, Sam Toucan's birthday. The only thing Sam doesn't know is that this is a surprise party. I then noticed Sam's car coming. “Hey, Felix! Over here! Before they see you!” I noticed Sheba's shouting from the other side of the room, where it was reserved and I was like 'I'm trying to teach these kids a lesson and you just broke the concept' look.

I was then dragged by the twins who followed Kitty into the reserved area, where it's like a private room, but thankfully for us we can see better in the dark and who else is there.

“Alright, is everyone ready? I see them coming.” Sheba notified us from behind the curtains.

I heard the others giggling a bit and some of us hushed as we heard Sam, Woody and Matteo coming up closer. They told him to duck his head before he hits that door frame. Thank God they did or  else he's gonna use words that aren't meant for children in any language.

As soon as they turned on the lights, we all shouted “SURPRISE!!!” All of us and also included, Sam's family from Canada which includes his faulty twin brother, Simmon, his wife *Ahem and ex-girlfriend, Ahem* Nelly, and his three nephews that looks a lot like him, Puey, Susey, and Louis. These three teenagers were identified by their colored scarfs of their scout uniforms, thankfully.

Sam chuckled with a rare happy feeling. “Well isn't this a nice surprise for a change.” I felt much happier than him, even if I would never admit it.

From back to that coffee shop where we first met, the stories he would tell, the patience I had to use whenever he was brutally honest, gaining his trusts little by little and then once the big pay off came, he did got better.

I'm not saying he's perfect, but he is-

“Felix, is that your name?” I was asked by Sam's little twin brother. “Huh? Yes, it is.” I said.

He talked to me while everyone was busy with Sam“I know this is a special day for both my twin and myself, but I wanted to thank you and your family to have a very memorable moment since we were younger. You've given him a very valuable gift that no money can buy.”

“I doubt it. All I did was being his friend.” It's not like I've turned to Batman and saved Gotham city at night. (At least not while I'm taking care of kids at the moment.)

“You gave him a reason to trust people. He barely did so when he came back from war. Sure, we all forgive each other, but he seems like he was, distant, from other people. Not to mentioned being cynical most of the time.”

“Yes. I know.” Being realistic and logical was one thing, but bitter and distrustful was another.

“I just wanted to know that if ever you need help, my brother and yours truly as a Royal Canadian Mountie, are available at anytime.” He placed his hands on my shoulder. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.” I thanked him.

I looked at Sam again to see that he's still having a great time. I looked at all of us to see that our 'family' had grown much larger since last time.

We might not be related, but we all care for each other and we all accept each other. Flaws and all.

And one day, we can be a one, big, happy, family.

----THE END----

Ahhhh..... I’m slugish and finally finished my OC’s humanized Sam Toucan’s backstory. 

As I’ve implied, he does have a faulty twin brother, Simmon. To help you understand him, he’s the Dudley do-right version.

I wanted to give him an opposite personalities, like ying and yang but they compliment each other.

Now for the wifey, I decided to choose Dudley’s sweat heart version too.

As for kids well, if you watched the froot loop’s commercials from more than two decades, he does in fact, have THREE nephews with the unofficial canon names in this story.

Now for this part of the story, I wanted to utilize the days from the Zodiac signs, the astrology one, to describe his character.

Which is also known as a Scorpio. 🦂♏ Like me!

And news flash for any Felix the cat and Mickey Mouse cartoon fans: Their Birthdays are under the Scorpio dates!!!!!

And to finish off, I wanted to write about how Felix and Sam’s friendship had been formed and evolves over time. So you can think it’s like Bendy and Boris but more on a friendship level than ‘Bromance’ or ‘BL’ level.

Sam is straight, end of story.

BBTIM AU and humanized characters belongs to Marini4. OCs like humanized Sam Toucan, Woody McPecker and Matteo belongs to me.

[iateyourwaffles]

A somewhat short but long message to Yuri on Ice fans...

Lately, I haven’t been seeing any new works or projects from the Yuri on Ice fandom, also haven’t been seeing any content that’s reblog worthy for me to put up on my blog. Or pretty much just any sort of Yuri on Ice related content that really piques my interest, and honestly, it’s starting to bother me. I just wanted to say, what’s the big hold up, my Yuri on Ice fams? I remember back when the show was still in the middle of airing and even a few months after it finished airing, soo many people were making YoI AU’s, comics, fanfics, and fanart like crazy. Now, like ever since yesterday or day before or so, not many people are posting any new YoI content for me to reblog and like. I mean, sure there’s still some fanarts, and depictions of scenes from fans still floating around, but other than that, I feel as if the Yuri on Ice fandom is starting to slowly become silent. I’ve seen some fans who were big YoI fans, and then shortly after Yuri on Ice finished airing, the next day they changed their profile pics to something else, changed their usernames, and started to post other stuff and basically moved on from Yuri on Ice. I just have to say that they are missing out on a lot of good Yuri on Ice official arts and merch and events that’s going on right now and that has been released recently. In other words, they don’t know what they are missing. Too bad for them though, I kinda feel sorry for them. But if it’s their choice, then that’s fine. 

I know that fandoms usually die over a period of time, but it honestly just makes me a bit upset when an anime ends, most fans just move on to something else and never come or speak of that fandom ever again, and they just move on to whatever else that’s popular or is starting to become popular. I think that’s stupid, imo, and I honestly don’t get why most people do that. 

Anyways, I just want to say that for those of you who are still into Yuri on Ice and are huge fans of it, to not stop what you’re doing. I know this has been said before on another blog, but I just wanted to say it. I really love the creative side for Yuri on Ice, and all of the creative fans out there who make really amazing fanart, AU’s, AMVs, dance covers, fanfics, etc. I’m not the creative type, so I don’t bother writing fanfics, drawing, and stuff like that, but I do really enjoy looking at other people’s works, so you could say I’m just one of those fans that’s sort of just there, so I’m really not anyone special, unlike most of the Yuri on Ice fans who apart of the fandom here. (Hence why I don’t have too many followers, and not many people know of my existence here. Sort of like how i am in real life.)

Really though, I just think that you guys are really creative people and are very important to me and this fandom as a whole. You make really fun and enjoyable Yuri on Ice content that most of us fans enjoy, and I respect that. 

And the fact that I see these like awesome and incredibly amazing ice skaters who have experience in ice skating making covers of the skates from Yuri on Ice absolutely amazes me and has me literally blown away and even makes me a little jealous. (I mean I can barely even stand on the ice, let alone even skate and move on it. )

And kudos to the wonderful AMV makers as well. I mean, lately for the past few months or so, I’ve been watching nothing but Yuri on Ice AMVs like crazy, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. They are just amazing and I really love the awesome and breathtaking editing skills fans put into their AMVs. My likes on my youtube channel are literally cluttered with nothing but Yuri on Ice AMVs, and I listen to them all the time when I work out. xD

So pretty much to those of you who make awesome AUs, fanfics, fanarts, covers, dances, and pretty much anything else that really adds some entertainment and fun to the Yuri on Ice community, thank you. You are really helping out this fandom and proving to show that we truly love Yuri on ice, and that we really want a season 2 for Yuri on Ice, because it’s just that good. 

I don’t know about most people, but this anime has actually changed my view point on Love. And has really changed me as a person in general, actually. I know it may sound weird, but this anime kinda made me open up to others a bit more, and made me understand what the meaning of Love really means and such. It’s kind of a bit hard to explain, but that’s how I feel. Yuri on Ice has changed me in a lot of ways. And that’s one of the reasons out of like a billion of others as to why I love it soo much. So obviously, I’m not popping out of my little Yuri on Ice shell for a while now. Even though the fandom has it’s ups and downs (But there’s a bad side to every fandom though. No fandom is perfect.), it’s still a really great fandom. As I wouldn’t call it a very nice fandom, it is a fandom that really is pretty easy to get along with and I feel like all of us in this fandom can understand each other in a way, and it’s honestly just like we’re one big family.

I know this is kinda long, and very weird, and even a bit embarrassing, tbh, but I just wanted to let everyone of　you who’s apart of the Yuri on Ice fandom know that  I love you guys. 

[thezolblade]

Fanfic ask game~ C, F, G, and V. If that's not too much :')

Okay let’s try these for some of the fandoms we have in common, though not all apply to each letter.

C: What member do you identify with most?

- FF7

I was going to say that I don’t particularly identify with any of the cast, beyond feeling for them as the story plays out. But then I remembered, omg Shera. It was obvious from the start that she did her job and saved Cid’s life, but he gaslighted her for not telling him what he wanted to hear, and only realised that she was right after bullying her for years? Wtf Cid, go die in a fire if that’s what you really want. It left me thinking “…And…? Will Shera be okay? Will she finally leave and get on with her life?”

I don’t care what Cid named after her in AC, I want to know if she recovered her self-esteem & career & personal life. If you have a techy skill, and people who don’t know better try to undermine you, that can be such a tough situation to handle… Years of it would be horrifying.

- Revolutionary Girl Utena

Anthy most of all, I think. Not the drama and trauma at the end, but the solitude she maintains when it’s not yet clear why. The show did a good job of showing that school can be hell for a lot of people, for all kinds of reasons. And damn, it was painful seeing Anthy spending so much time alone, offering everyone a false smile, avoiding the crowds because they really weren’t going to do her any favours. It got frustrating in the early episodes, seeing Utena push her into things when she’d said she didn’t want to about as clearly as she was ever going to. And it was pretty gratifying to see Utena apologising for that at the end.

I mean it was also relatableto see Utena trying to do the right thing, and getting frustrated at the world when it was never easy. I’m still impressed that they managed to demonstrate so much emotional realism in the conclusion, at least as far as you can extrapolate reality for magical near-immortals or whatever they are. With the show being heavily metaphorical, and ending with everyone trying to take the same journey in the movie, it seems like Anthy’s struggles were meant to have universal elements - showing how you can self-sabotage by hurting others, and hurt yourself by telling others what they want to hear. How you need to be able to imagine better options before you can walk away.

- Golden Sun

Uh, Alex, somehow. He’s an embarrassing mess, he makes so many bad decisions which are all ‘wft are you doing?’, and Dark Dawn got into near-wallbanger territory where I was disgusted with both him and the game, bc the gratuitous damage seemed pointless and inconsistent from a gameplay perspective, and so far across the line from a characterisation perspective that it’s really hard to see why Kraden was programmed to say that Alex may have been 'helping in his own way’ or something like that. But in the first two games, at least, there was some complexity to his attitude. (And bits like that of the 3rd one indicated that the canon may still have been trying for nuance, only pretty poorly executed. #.# )

Still, gotta admit by now that judging from the amount of meta and fic I keep writing from his pov, something about his thought process is relatableenough that you can see why he’d think what he thinks, even if he’s wrong. When he actually provides factual information, it tends to be correct. He uses relatively inarguable facts to try to influence people, and the trolling is kinda unrelated. The manipulation isn’t emotional “Leave or I’ll be disappointed in you for picking this fight” - it’s attempted-impartial “Don’t pick this fight because your opponent(s) are too strong / your parents won’t be released unless you keep your side of the deal with those people.” Plus a side of “Lol you think I’m trash don’t you?”, demonstrating that he’s not trying to use a personal connection as leverage bc he’s burning those bridges, and still somehow expecting people to listen. ’I’m not on your side! But you should take my advice!’ Embarrassing mess…

And yet the others sometimes come across as relatively young and distracted by comparison, making assumptions about the world that he wouldn’t, and arguing over petty details. What is the point of panicking over things you can’t change?

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oh I like so much dialogue, tough choice. Uh well this probably isn’t the best scene, the oldest oldfic is still a messy WIP and I can tell it’d need a lot of work to match the newer stuff, and even to get it finished as what I originally envisioned I need to schedule a whole lot of time to work on it. But I want to, because I still love it, and since I haven’t managed to communicate the whole story yet to its readers, it feels like a self-indulgent choice. I’m pretty attached to the parts where Alex and Isaac get incredibly annoyed at each other, making the situation worse even while trying to work together, though they can’t each recognize genuine effort in the other - for a variety of reasons by this point.

“I… am sick of receiving derogatory communications from the aether, the last one wasn’t nearly as offensive, it wasn’t even real, - ”

“Wait, it’s… What?” Isaac was having trouble making sense of this. “Have you been getting obscene messages from the gods?”

“Can’t you go five minutes without bringing the gods into this?” Alex snapped, looking down again, seizing the chance to change the subject. “We are the ones with infinite potential!”

“Yes… but…”

“And you are the one capable of taking the rest…” It was only after Alex added this that Isaac realised he’d meant the two of them, not humanity in general. For a moment, he’d thought they were of the same opinion there.

“But is it… really…?” Isaac gestured at the paper, wondering how its message could be so irrelevant to Sheba’s fate. If it wasn’t about Sheba, what use was it?

“If you do not intend to believe anything you hear from me, why tell me to speak?”

“No, it’s… uh, don’t worry. I’ll take your word for it, for now.” Isaac smiled, realizing that 'don’t worry’ was slightly inadequate even as he said it. “We have to make sure it comes into existence the way it’s supposed to. First things first. We’d better head upstairs and tell the others the plan.”

“Bring them to me.” Alex could see that Isaac didn’t understand why he would request this. Shouldn’t it be obvious? Why would he want to go back to them, to approach them entirely on their terms? “Whoever would be involved, bring them here.”

“If it happened upstairs, you should probably try it there.”

“Do you think I still need higher ground?” Alex asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the noise of the water behind him - boiling water flowing from the cold tap.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Often from start to finish in as few sessions as possible, though if it’s long enough to take more than a few days, I end up jotting down dialogue notes, and then trying to put the notes in order, which gets more fiddly the more there are. The multichapter longfic get big chunks written out of sequence, which sometimes makes it easier to fill in the gaps by joining the dots, and sometimes leaves me blocked on how to tackle the parts in between.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Not sure I could choose anything; other people’s stories are their ideas, and I generally want to hear more from the authors because they’re not the kind of stories I’d have intuitively come up with. Reading fic does tend to spark plotbunnies, but more those that place a headcanon in its own verse showing how else it could play out - different characterisation even if I’m adopting a headcanon I like. Back when I read more fic, I used to get the urge to play with the more macguffiny plot elements of things too, but never got to the point where I had a divergent fan-fan-fic that I could have asked the author about as far as I remember.

[gldngrl7]

Karamel Fic: A Favor Among Friends

So, I did this thing.  I’ve been working on it for a while, steering clear of other Karamel fics during this time so I’m not influenced by them,  It started with a small idea and kinda took on a life of its own.  So here’s this thing...about Kara’s sexual awakening.

Title: A Favor Among Friends

Chapter: 1 / 4

Rating: M / NC-17 / Explicit (for Chapters 3 &4)

  Chapter 1

She couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

 Long after she’d convinced herself he must have been delirious and thinking of someone else as his lips lingered over hers.  Long after she decided to play it off to spare him the embarrassment of discovering she’d been the convenient avatar for whomever he’d been fantasizing about. Even days after returning from helping her new Earth-1 allies defeat the Dominators, she could still feel his lips on hers.  Could still feel the rush of heat beneath her skin that had nothing to do with the rays from the yellow sun.

She tries not to think about it, just like she tried to stamp down the joy that rose up in her when, stepping out of the dimensional portal, she saw him standing there, his arms crossed, his jean-clad hips cocked to one side, a look of concern mixed with relief on his face.  She tries not think about how attractive he is, or how his carefree grin makes her heart skip a beat, and how it sets to racing when he laughs, like a thoroughbred after the gate releases.

 She tries not to think about any of it – until it’s all she can think about.  Even Alex notices, teasing Kara with her eyes whenever the three of them are in the same room together.  And then it becomes a freak show.  He smiles and she flusters…even more than usual.  His hand (unintentionally?) brushes against her arm and she’s certain he can hear her breath catch and her heart lock up for a moment before her blood is racing through her veins again.

 Of course, it’s not long before the dreams begin.  His mouth moving against hers, his hands finding their way to her skin; groping, grasping, sometimes with a light touch and sometimes something more commanding.  His voice rasping out her name like it’s everything, and her own sighs of pleasure so loud in her ears.  Each time, she awakens with a thin sheen of sweat on her face and between her breasts, her brain still insisting that his hot open mouth sliding down her neck is so very real.  She almost cries because it isn’t.

 But it never goes farther than hot breath on hotter skin or roaming hands finding the hollow of her lower back.  No matter how she falls asleep hoping that her mind will conjure new, deeper paths of pleasure, she awakens each time unfulfilled and disappointed, with only her fingers to help her find her way.

 And she knows why, can admit that much to herself at least.  Even in her dreams her mind can’t go further than she’s actually been in the waking world.  Her mind can only barely conceive of what it feels like to have a man’s hips cradled between her thighs, or feel the bare sweat-slicked skin of his belly moving against hers.  She has only her imagination for that – an imagination which refuses to put any skin in the game when it comes to her dreams.

 Kara Danvers is a virgin, which if the average person were to ponder upon, should come as a surprise to no one.  Even if she weren’t an alien, she’d still be completely awkward girl around cute boys, not mention self-conscious about…everything.  Not to mention the secrets!  There’s all the secrets she’s had to keep since arriving on Earth; about herself and about her family.  Secrets which have only become more involved as she’s gotten older, moved out on her own and tried to make her way in the world.  Of course, it doesn’t help that not knowing when to stop talking is a problem she struggles with every day – especially around boys who might show a little interest.  And it can’t be overstated that it’s no easy feat maintaining a dual identity, which limits the options when it comes to meeting someone and having an open and honest relationship.  Kara still cringes when she thinks about Cat’s son and how exhausting that had been.

 But the real problem about being a girl from Krypton on a planet orbiting a yellow sun, is the invulnerability.  The imperviousness to outside forces trying to penetrate…yeah…Kara cringes at the thought, because she’s not just invulnerable to speeding bullets and randomly tossed street signs.  She’s invulnerable to all of it.

 All of it.

 It’s why she chickened out with James.  She couldn’t, in good conscious, ask him to enter into a relationship with the knowledge that they could only top out at heavy petting and oral sex. And she didn’t feel comfortable enough telling him the truth – didn’t want to see the look in his eyes – so she fed him some line about needing to figure out who she is before she can be in a relationship.  James deserved better, she told herself; a relationship with her might have been a fun novelty for a while, but would have ultimately been unfulfilling for both of them. It was this shortcoming of her own unintentional and unwanted making, which had been in the forefront of her mind when she’d broken things off with James before they’d hardly had a chance to begin.

To be fair, she has considered several work-arounds, including employing the strategic use of Kryptonite to serve her purpose.  But there are two problems with that.  One: Kryptonite has a tendency to alter her body on a molecular level and there is no predicting what that could do to her under a specific set of (erotic) circumstances.  And two: luckily, in most instances, physical damage done while exposed to the green element heal completely once exposed to the sun’s radiation.  So…using Kryptonite to facilitate the loss of her virginity might only be a short term solution.  Also, exposure to Kryptonite is excruciatingly painful for her, so realistically she would be unable to enjoy any amorous activities performed while in its presence.  Her (Earth) mother, always pragmatic about such things, would definitely tell her that self-imposed misery during the process would defeat the whole purpose.

 Which is why, this time, when the abrupt ending to her recurring dream has her eyes snapping open, she also rockets straight out of bed, hovering over the mattress as though her entire body has become a giant light-bulb of inspiration.

 Mon-El!

 Of course!  Why hadn’t she thought of it before?  Mon-El had literally dropped into their lives – a Daxam boy in his stolen Kryptonian pod, escaping a dying planet and getting knocked off course for who knows how many years.  Like an extremely attractive but undisciplined angel from the heavens sent to help her take care of her little problem.  Her cousin Clark, even more hopeful and optimistic than her, would tell her that everything happens for a reason.

Mon-El can do what no man on Earth (that she isn’t related to by blood) can do for her – end her years-long torment rid her of this no-longer needed or wanted virginity.  All she has to do is work up the nerve to ask him and then convince him to say yes. Kara, still hovering over her bed, snickers and blushes.  Who is she kidding?  Mon-El is a Daxamite; he’d probably be out of his clothes before she could say, ‘let’s get it on.’

 Not that she would ever say that.  Ever.

She’s half-tempted to speed dress and fly to the DEO right now, lest she lose her nerve, before noticing that it’s just 4 am.  That will never do.  Mon-El doesn’t handle being jarred from sleep very well, even in the best of circumstances, and Kara needs him to be fully awake and able to properly process her request when she approaches him with her quandary.  Kara shivers.  She will have to find a way to tell him everything…everything…and hope that he can take her seriously and above all, be discreet about it.

 She finds herself in the strange and tenuous position of hanging a lot of faith on a guy that just a few short weeks ago was beating people up for money. Except that since then he’s begun to step up as if, despite his Daxam upbringing, he’s decided he wants to be a part of something bigger than himself.  It didn’t exactly make him a hero, but for now it is enough.  Given enough time and guidance, Mon-El could really turn into a story of inspiration.

 But he’s still who he is; a Daxamite nobleman who had a human girl practically out of her panties five minutes after being released from full-time surveillance. Kara wonders if Mon-El has been tested for sexually transmitted diseases, before shaking her head at the prospect.  He had been tested for everything while still in his stasis coma (once they figured out how to inject the needle), and it was unlikely that he could pick anything up from human physiology.  If human viruses can’t affect Kryptonians then they’re unlikely to affect Daxamites.

 Kara spends the next few hours formulating a battle plan…and rules.  If they were going to do this they were going to have to lay down some ground rules.  She narrowly resists the urge to write them down on a pad of paper.

 Despite her nervous anxiety screaming at her to go see him at 7 am, Kara waits until her lunch break from work before speeding over to the DEO.  She sneaks past J’onn and Winn hovering near a bank of computer terminals and barely misses barreling into Alex.

“Hey, Kara!” Alex says, her eyes widening with surprise.  Her face shifts quickly to one of confusion.  “Did J’onn call you in?  Is there something going on?”

 “No,” Kara answers, her lips pursing together.  “I just…promised Mon-El I’d take him to try Cuban food.  I’m here to pick him up.”

 “Well, good,” she replies.  “I think he’s going stir-crazy.  Last I saw him, he was wearing out another treadmill in the gym.”

 “Thanks, Alex.  I’ll have him back in an hour.  Maybe less,” she muttered.  Kara could feel her skin flushing with heat again.

“Shouldn’t be problem.  Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” Kara waves her off, downplaying the state of turmoil going on inside of her right now.  “Fine. It’s nothing.  See you later?”

 “You bet.”

Kara could smell the tell-tale odor of burning rubber before she stepped into the gym. “You’re supposed to stop when that smell happens!” she warns him, raising her voice over the booming music coming from a stereo system in the corner of the room.  “Give the machine a chance to rest.”

Hearing her voice, his head snaps up catching her eyes in the gym mirror. He’s unable to stop the grin that spreads across his face when she places her hands solidly on her hips. With a click of a remote control the room is plunged into silence.  “They should build one that needs rest less than I do.”

“My friend Barry has one,” she informs him, good-naturedly.  Mon-El is wearing running shorts and a skin-tight shirt made by UnderArmour.  His muscle ripple beneath the material with every shift and move of his body.  Her mouth goes suddenly dry and she finds herself in need of a drink.

Mention of her ‘friend’ Barry from Earth-1 has him feeling like he’s swallowed an icicle, tearing his smile from his face.  It reminds him that she’d been gone for nearly a week, while he waited and worried that she might never return.  Fighting the Dominators, he’d been told, after she was already gone without a goodbye.  He paced and shook a finger angrily at J’onn.  He should have gone with her!  Daxam had twice repelled an invasion from the Dominators.  Perhaps he could have been of some use, he’d explained. But the truth was, he was just afraid she’s like it better over there and decide never to return.

When the grin that lit a fire in her belly only a moment before, slides from his face at the mention of her friend Kara ducks her head to hide her disappointment.

“The speedster, right?” Mon-El nods avoiding her eyes.  He dabs what little amount of exertion had gathered on his skin from his forehead with a towel.

“Right.” Kara tucks her hands behind her back nervously.  “Maybe next time I talk to him I can ask him for the blueprints.”

“Maybe,” he replies with a shrug.  “Hey is there something going on?  Shouldn’t you be at work?”  He doesn’t want to talk about her special friend Barry anymore.  The thought of him makes Mon-El want to tear the building down brick by brick.

She takes a deep breath to quell the butterflies in her stomach, reminding herself that this wouldn’t even be the most difficult question she asked today. “I was wondering if you would be interested in getting Cuban food,” she said in a rush.  “With me…for lunch?”  His grin is back and she has to lock her knees to keep them from turning to mush

Lunch? Outside of the DEO?  And alone with her?  Once again, he’s unable to suppress his pleasure at her request.  As Winn would say, ‘he has no chill’. “I’ve never had Cuban food,” he points out.  “I do like their music though.  It’s fun. Reminds me of home.”

“If it would bother you we can go somewhere else—“ She doesn’t want to make him said.  That would not be conducive to getting what she needs from him.

“It’s fine,” he cuts in.  “Give me a minute to shower and change?” he asks.

Kara nods and he zips out of the room, returning literally a minute later, dressed in chinos and long-sleeved burgundy Henley that fits him like a second skin. His hair is still wet from the shower, but combed neatly into place.  She’s struck with the desire to tuck her face into his neck and smell his skin.  “Ready?” he inquires.

She has to shake off both the desire to smell him, and the eclipse of moths that seems to have settled into the deepest parts of her belly.  “Yeah,” she answers, her voice little more than a croak. “Let’s go.”

It’s a short walk to Flor de Cuba and Kara spends much of it debating in her head whether she should ask him before or after the meal.  If she waits until after, then lunch is likely to last longer than she strictly has time for.  As they’re seated at a table near the back of the restaurant, Mon-El effectively decides the course of the conversation when his voice intrudes on her thoughts.

“You seem to be thinking about something pretty hard over there.  It’s giving you wrinkles,” he chuckles.

She covers her forehead with one hand, smoothing out the wrinkles between her eyebrows.  “Is not,” she whines, though she knows it’s true.

He sighs, his Adam’s apple moving beneath the skin of his neck with a gulp and he licks his lips before speaking.  “Something tells me this isn’t just a friendly lunch.  Did I do something wrong again, Kara?”  This time it’s his brow’s turn to furrow.  It seems as if he’s if forever disappointing her no matter how hard he tries.  And now that…that he’s found that he’s falling for her, it makes her irritation with him that much more difficult to bear.

Something about the sad look on his face makes her want to reach across the table for his hand to comfort him.  She doesn’t. Instead she twists a napkin between her fingers in her lap, out of his line of vision but quickly tries to set him at ease.  “No, it’s nothing like that,” she reassures.  “I did want to talk to you about something, but I wanted us to be away from prying ears and security cameras.”  She clamps her mouth shut when the waitress steps up to place two glasses of water on the table and drops a menu in front of each of them.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he presses finally, after the silence between them lingers just a moment too long.  He attempts to appear slightly disinterested by perusing his menu.

“What are you hungry for?” she asks, an obvious redirection.  ‘Don’t chicken out,’ she tells herself.

“You pick.  Whatever’s good here,” he tells her before setting aside his menu.  He can’t stand the suspense and doesn’t want to wait another minute to find out what he’s done to create that frightened look on her face. “What did want to talk to me about? You should just tell me before you burn a hole in the menu with your eyes.”

He is right.  She stares at her menu as if it had personally tried to attack her and she is planning a way to take it down.  Still, Kara grips the menu more tightly in her hands and wonders if it would be too immature to hide behind it.  She recalls what her high school Health teacher used to say in class, ‘If you can’t talk about it, then you shouldn’t be doing it.’

Kara straightens her spines and squares her shoulders, leaning her back hard against the booth.  Mon-El’s eyes widen in response and he seems to steel himself for whatever might come next. “I need your help with something,” she begins.

“Great,” he breathes a deep sigh of relief.  Asking for his help is a good sign, he thinks.  Perhaps it means that he’s earning more of her trust.  “I’m all about the helping these days.  What is it?  Do you need back-up finding your Earth father?  I heard you and Alex talking about it the other day.  And I can’t help but feel like I owe him.” Jeremiah Danvers, long held captive by Cadmus had saved his life by fishing a lead bullet out of Mon-El’s leg when Cadmus had taken him hostage.

“No,” Kara shakes her head, though she thinks he’s sweet to offer.  “It’s not that.  It’s more personal.”

Mon-El’s eyes squint and he tilts his head to the left.  “What’s more personal than saving your father?”  He wonders is this had anything to do with the kiss he denies remembering.

Grasping her water glass, she drains the glass in one go before setting back on the table.

“Seriously, Kara…are you okay?”  She’s the nervous sort, in a flustered way that he finds completely charming and adorable, but what he sees on her face and in her body language tells him that this is more than garden variety nerves.

“I need you to have sex with me,” she blurts out, her eyes refusing to meet his. Damn it!  She hadn’t meant to phrase it that way, but part of her just wanted it over with.  A beat of silence fills the space between them and Kara can hear a mouse chomping through a cardboard box in the back alley. 

This time it is Mon-El’s turn to drain his glass of water.  “Excuse me?” he croaks.  “What was that?”  Super hearing or not, he must have misheard her, of misunderstood what she was saying. Surely, she wasn’t suggesting they have sex – not after she’d been so relieved to find out he didn’t remember kissing her.

“I need to lose my virginity, and it has to be you.”  Kara clears her throat, hopping that might distract from the blush she can feel spreading across her face.

Well that wasn’t…he hadn’t been expecting to hear that.  A burst of joy mixed with relief explodes inside of him upon hearing that she’s a virgin.  Not that it would matter, but still…knowing that she’s untouched somehow lift a weight off his shoulders.  So…Barry wasn’t a thing.  Mon-El’s face splits with a grin and his mouth drops open.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” she warns, pointing a finger at him and squinting her eyes as though she’s prepared to let loose some highly focused heat vision.

He makes a clearly concerted effort to ease his face into a more neutral expression. Clearing his throat, he bites down on his lower lip and squeezes his eyes shut, telling himself to get control. He’s not completely sure what she’s asking of him, so he decides to plot his next moves before getting the answers he needs.

Kara isn’t sure but she suspects he’s having a conversation with himself in the privacy of his own head.  Mon-El gasps for air, as though he had forgotten momentarily to breathe, although Kara knows he would have to go much longer than a minute without air to necessitate the taking of a breath that desperate.

“Just for clarification…you wish to undergo the Rite of—“

“No rites,” she cuts in.  “No ceremonies.  Just a simple business transaction.”

“Kara….” He does that adorable thing where he tilts his head again, trying to wrap his mind around the constant contradictions of the cultures of planet Earth. “It’s my understanding that…I mean from what Winn tells me…sex as a business…there are laws against that here. Stupid laws, by the way, but laws I’ve promised to follow nonetheless.”

“Oh!” she quickly realizes her mistake.  “No, no, not like that.  There will be no money changing hands…or exchange of goods…in any way.”

“Then how is it a business transaction?” he asks, more confused than ever.

Back to the drawing board, she sighs.  “Okay.  What if we called it…a favor between friends…?”

“Friends,” his voice drops, his brow furrowing again.  That doesn’t bode as well as he’d hoped based on how their conversation began.  Mon-El didn’t want to be ‘friends’ with Kara.  He wanted much, much more.  But he also knew he wasn’t good enough for her, wasn’t what she wanted, not really. “But there are others who’ve known you far longer.  Men that you clearly prefer…to me.”

Kara opens her mouth to speak, but closes it.  She wonders what she might have done since his arrival to give him that impression. She’s been playing her cards super close to the chest these last few months.  And besides that, he’s completely wrong…if her dreams have anything to say about it.

“Such as this Barry person,” he suggests, tentatively, as though testing a fence.  “Or…James?”

Shaking her head resolutely, she insists, “It has to be you, Mon-El.”  She doesn’t understand why he is so hesitant. Is she really that unattractive to him? She knows that she’s quite attractive by Earth standards, at least if some of her headlines are to be believed. Somehow though, when she imagined this scenario, she envisioned him halfway to undressed by this point.  “You have super strength and you’re invulnerable. Don’t you understand?”

Mon-El tries not to imagine her arms around him, clutching at his naked back while he…does things to her.  “I’m sure if you’re gentle, you wouldn’t break—“

“It’s not about me breaking them, Mon-El.  It’s about them not being able to…break – do I really have to spell this out for you?” Kara can hear the pitch of voice rising to unflattering levels, and she drops her face into her hands to hide her abject humiliation.  In spite of the growing lump in her throat, she refuses to get emotional over this.

“Oh!” he croons, finally realizing the nature of dilemma.  “Because you’re invulnerable.  So…everything’s invulnerable.”  He imagines a human man trying to solve her problem, and cringes painfully at the only possible outcome of that scenario.

“Right,” she sighs with relief, the worst is over. 

“Yeah, that’s definitely a tough break.”  And then, like an idiot, he grins at his own pun.

The waitress returns and Kara orders the ropa vieja for them both, with an extra serving of black beans and caramelized plantains, because she’s feeling the need for something sweet.  Mon-El picks at a piece of bread while rolling her request around in his head. They sit quietly, Kara tugging uncomfortably at an errant curl of hair at the back of her neck, until their food arrives some minutes later.

“So when would this event take place?” he wonders.

“You’ll do it then?” she perks up immediately, though she has to restrain the nest of writhing snakes his question has awakened in her belly.

Mon-El shrugs and then decides for a joke to lighten the mood.  “What kind of Daxamite would I be if I left a beautiful woman like you untarnished?  I would hardly be doing the Daxam reputation justice, now would I?”  It’s clear from the shifting expression on Kara’s face that his attempt at humor has hit wide of the mark.  Very wide.

Kara’s smile slides from her face and her hopes plummet to the soles of her feet. The nonchalance of his attitude disappears just as quickly as her smile and Kara can tell that Mon-El recognizes his misstep.

Quickly reaching across the table, all humor vanishing from his demeanor, he covers her hand with his.  Mon-El’s voice lowers to a gentle, reassuring timbre.  “I promise I’ll take care of you, Kara.  I’ll make sure it’s done right, okay? 

“Okay,” she nods, her eyes misting up, quite against her will.

Seeing her emotion and wishing to reassure her more fully he adds, “Don’t worry, I have all the training needed.”

“Training?” she wonders, her widening with shock.  “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” he says.  “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“It’s standard in the court of the Crown Prince, that all courtiers receive training and discipline in the pleasure arts.  It begins for the males when their fifteen, seventeen for the girls, and it’s quite comprehensive.”

“Why would you need—you know what?  I don’t want to know.”  Kara shakes off the thought though she knows it’s likely to haunt her until her curiosity is satisfied.

“All you need to know, is that you’re going to be in good hands.  But before I agree to this, you have to promise me one thing first.”

“What’s that?”

“This can’t just be a ‘transaction’ like you called it.  You can’t just lay there with your eyes closed…pretending I’m someone else.  Not if you want your first time to be something worth remembering, as it should be. You have to be a participant.  You have to be open to me...trust me.  Can you do that?  Because if you can’t…”

The eyes that usually sparkle with mischief or impending irresponsibility, darken with intense sincerity.  In that moment she sees in Mon-El as the man he she knows he can be and Kara feels her mouth go dry.  Thankfully the waitress had refilled their water glasses after dropping off their meal. She realizes that part of her had wanted him to take it all seriously, despite the utter ridiculousness of her requests.  A sigh of relief escapes her mouth before she nods in agreement with his request.

Mon-El smiles reassuringly.  “Everything will be fine, Kara.  I’ve seen enough of your Earth entertainment programs to know that sex between friends without current romantic entanglements can be a mutually beneficial agreement.  Friends with benefits, I think they call it.  I saw one movie where two friends agreed to mate when they were of a certain age if they hadn’t found their partners yet.  I liked that one.  A little sappy, but there were some funny moments.”

“I didn’t realize they were supplying you with a selection of rom-coms.”  Kara is thrilled for an avenue of escape from their current discussion.

“Rom-coms?”

“Romantic comedies,” she explains.  “Doesn’t seem quite your style.”

“The powers-that-be decided that I’m not allowed to watch anything that depicts explosions or alien invasions, or aggression of any kind.”

“So…no action movies allowed,” she surmises.

“Romantic comedies and sad stories written by a man named Nicholas Sparks are the only films on the approved watch list, I’m afraid.  I hear good things about this Liam Neeson person though.” Mon-El chuckles and Kara remembers that she’s always liked his sense of humor, although begrudgingly at first.

“I’m sure that will all change in time.  They’re just being cautious.”

“I know that I still have a lot to learn, Kara.  They can’t just release me to the wild…I get it.  I may speak the language, but sometimes that creates more questions than it answers.  On the upside, thanks to these rom-coms I’m learning a lot about how to woo Earth women.”  He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, though she can tell he’s just trying to elicit a laugh from her.

He goes on to detail all the ridiculous things he’s learning from watching rom-coms and before she knows it, she’s forgotten all about how nervous she was when they walked into the restaurant.  He’s enamored with the taste of Cuban food, but makes a bit of a mess on his face eating the ropa vieja.  Kara leans forward with her napkin and wipes away the smear of greasy beef gravy on his chin.  Something she can’t interpret flashes in his eyes as he offers his thanks.

Before leaving the restaurant to walk him back to the DEO they decide that Friday night would be good night, so she leaves him at the front door of building her chest filling with a combination of excitement and terror.

TBC

[linssikeittomies]

Apocalypse. In 50 Years. Chapter 1: Virgin Allison

I’m lucky. Always have been. Me, my parents, their parents, and their parents as far back as we can remember have always been lucky: none of them have been seriously ill, gotten into a serious accident, or suffered major financial setbacks. We don’t have any hereditary diseases. No one has died before their 80th birthday. There hasn’t been a single divorce.

I had a good upbringing, a stable family situation and a healthy diet. My parents bought me an apartment, I got in to college on my first try, I have hobbies I love and time for them, summer is just around the corner and we’re planning a vacation to Hawaii, everything is great and I should have nothing to worry about.

But every second of the day I feel this anxious tension in my chest.

I always feel like I’m doing something wrong, or I’m supposed to be doing something else. Something is not correct, and I don’t know how to correct it. Something’s expected of me, but I don’t know what. I’ve tried going to church and mosque more, I’ve tried doing more sports, I’ve tried volunteer work, arts, science, philosophy, psychology, travelling, soul searching, nothing works. That nagging feeling just won’t go away! Sometimes it’s right there on the surface, sometimes it sinks to the background, but it’s there every second of the day and my sanity can’t take another month of this feeling! I might be the first person in my family line to have a mental breakdown.

--

There’s some kind of sound… What is that, I don’t like it, I don’t like beeping when it’s so warm. Just let me find that last bunny. It got scared of the sound. Aww, I found it, right on my desk, the alarm…

Oh, the sound was my alarm clock. Damn brilliant, time to wake up already. Whose bright idea was it to force people up before they were ready? The professors can’t like being woken at the ass crack of dawn either. Just stop having morning lectures, people! Nobody wants them! I’m the nicest girl this country has ever seen and I’m getting an impulse to murder a guy. I’ve been getting up at 5:45 the whole week, maybe I should’ve gone the other route and just not slept at all. Would’ve made it easier to drag myself out of my soft, warm, loving bed… I’ve been trying to clean up my language, but I just have to curse some right now. Gives me enough anger to push myself up. Makes me feel bad about myself, too.

The classic white and blue sailor fuku has seen a lot of use this past month, but since it still feels marginally less wrong than all my other clothes, it’ll see a little more. I brush my hair while I wait for the frying pan to heat up enough fry my omelet, then pick at it and end up only eating half. Ughhh, why did I stay up reading that fanfic last night, again? I’ve read it like ten times already, I already know damn well what’s gonna happen! I get so queasy when I’m tired… I should probably pack the rest of this omelet up and take it to school ‘cause I’ll just get hungry an hour later.

I manage to cover the bags under my eyes with make-up, and since for once I was smart and packed my bag ready last night, I just grab it and get out the door. I’ve barely closed it when my next door neighbor Ricky comes out his. He’s really nice and kinda cute, but his obvious crush on me makes our relationship a little awkward. Not that I don’t reciprocate – he’s easy on the eyes, super cute with all those freckles and dimples and supposedly carefree hair combined with a caring and shy personality. So yeah, I once considered dating him, but the overwhelming sense of WRONG! WRONG! had unfortunately made that impossible. It always flares up particularly bad when something romance-related comes to my mind, maybe I’m just extremely aromantic without realizing it? It seems being friends with him is a-ok, however. And it’s got its perks.

“Oh, morning, Ally. Did you like the cookies I gave you yesterday?” he asks, as if there was ever any doubt. “I think the cinnamon made them a little too Christmassy.”

“Not at all, they were great! I don’t get how you make them soft in the center, whenever I try they just dry up.”

“Might be too much flour”, he theorizes as we go down the stairs. He moves his messenger bag from his free side to between the two us – I’ve noticed he does that a lot, I think it’s some kind of unconscious attempt at putting up a barrier because he feels so self-conscious around me. “Or maybe you keep the oven on for too long. I always turn it off when they’re close to ready.”

I almost ask for a baking lesson, but again the WRONG flares up so I give up on the idea.

“You might be on to something, I’ll try that next time.”

He’s bad with words, so he tries to find something to say but can’t. He scratches his arm absently and opens his mouth only to close it immediately. Our conversations are rarely smooth, and these kinds of pauses are the norm. I don’t mind them that much – no point in saying words solely for the sake of making noise, after all. But Ricky seems to find them incredibly uncomfortable and a sign of failure, so often I just say something completely meaningless to help him out, give him some ideas.

“How’s school been lately?”

Ricky’s a journalism major, and has a huge collection of magazines and newspapers at his place. I wonder why he didn’t go into confectionary since he’s so good at it already. Maybe he prefers to keep it a hobby? Not even with a gun to my head would I animate for a living, even though I spend like 90 percent of my free time staring at anime.

“Nothing special”, he mumbles. “A lot of work… It, uhh, might get a little worse now that my computer broke…”

“Aww crap, I feel for you!”

“Thanks… I… spilled milk on it last night”, he admits embarrassed. He likes drinking milk with cookies, he must’ve been eating those cinnamon cookies while working on something. “It’s probably busted even if I can get it dry.”

“I can lend you my tablet if it’s any help.”

“Thanks, but… all my files were on the hard drive.”

Oh jeez, he didn’t even save the most important ones to a cloud? This guy’s just hopeless. I don’t get how he’s managed to stay alive living on his own for two years. A cute face doesn’t help much with keeping track of bills and switching fuses.

We part ways on the street and I dig out my headphones. My bus route is noisy as hell, thanks to all the “edgy” teens going to high school. For some incomprehensible reason so many of them think it’s entirely necessary to loudly laugh at the worst non-jokes and gossip about this bitch and that bitch and those assholes, while also apparently hating each other judging by the amount insults they throw at each other, but still they hang out together so I guess they really are friends…? I just don’t get them. I was never like that in high school, I actually liked my friends.

Speaking of which, I get a new message from ~BFF~.

Good morning! Saida says, and sends a selfie. Seems she’s been clothes shopping, as I’ve never seen that tunic before. The hijab is old, but it’s draped pretty elaborately. It looks really good on her, red’s really her color, and the tunic’s greenish gray complements it surprisingly well.

Woah nice! Looks great on u (^o^)b

Thanks^^ Took ten tries to drape it good, I’m thinking wearing it like this for the premiere. Only a week from now! SO excited! >o<

Grrrrreat peeps gonna luv it \(^-<)

Keep both thumbs up for me^^

Saida’s an aspiring playwright and works on a lot of amateur productions. This will the first play she wrote completely on her own. I’ve been to a couple of their rehearsals, so I know the story is about a woman whose father is murdered and she vows to catch the perp – but in the process learns that her father was actually a terrible person and was killed in revenge. I didn’t want too many spoilers so I haven’t read the script.

Can we go togthr im so proud of u (/>3>)/

Of course! We’re going for a dinner afterwards so you can come with us too

Aww, I wanted u all to myself orz

If only you were a guy you couldXD Too bad :p

Deciding to tease her about this raises the wrong feeling back to the surface, but the opportunity is just too delicious.

Ill keep that in mind (^3^)b

Oh jeez, in hindsight that was a bad joke (/-_-\)

U get im gonna teez u about this all ur life k:DDDD

In hindsight that was a REALLY bad joke -_- Have fun AT SCHOOL you little devil!>:D

Aww orz

She barely has classes this week, not that it means she actually has less work – just that she’s supposed to working on assignments at home. Unlike me, she’s really diligent and actually does her homework over a few days instead of the previous night.

--

The professor is late, as usual. Students don’t have keys for the classrooms, so we have to wait outside. It can get pretty cramped, especially at places like this: at the end of a narrow hallway, with the smelliest toilet in the building at the other end. Everyone tries their hardest to squeeze out of the way of the stench. At least in the summer it gets a little better – in the winter the pipes get frozen, and when the water doesn’t flow, the smell really starts melting off faces.

I fail at stifling a yawn, and a classmate gives me a sympathetic look. It’s so hard to stay awake when I’m not on the move, any small break just reminds my brain of how tired I am, and then it wants to go back to sleep. It even forgets about the horrible stink floating in the hallway, if only for a moment. When my head drops and I snap back to attention, it suddenly fills my nose again. I’ve repeated the process about five times already.

In fact, I’m right in the process of drifting back to sleep again when I notice her. The pale, young woman dressed all in black, sporting abyssal black hair and glowing, ember-like eyes. She stares at me intently, like a hawk hunting a rabbit, and emanates a malicious aura. Everything about her is… dark, somehow. Like she’s hard to make out, and even the bright lamps seem dimmer around her. She looks human, but in an… elongated way. Her face, her body, and especially her fingers, look a little too long and a little too spindly. She looks like a daddy long legs. I can’t shake the mental image of her creeping up the wall and skittering away in to some slight crack. I’m not used to being nervous – I consider myself a particularly brave person, but this lady is giving me the creeps! I find myself crossing my arms at my chest to get at least some kind of barrier between us, despite her standing several meters away. It’s not far enough. If possible, I would rather put several countries between us – but as it stands, all I have is half a meter of hallway.

Her eyes stare at me unblinkingly as I squeeze closer to the door, their dim glimmer drowning out all other light. I can’t look away – her gaze holds me prisoner, and laughs at my fear.

Then a light weight settles on my shoulder, and her thin lips curve into a sharp, sadistic facsimile of a smile and she whispers

                                                  FOUND YOU

before turning around and walking out. All feelings of dread melt away with her gone, and I turn to look at whoever defended me.

It’s a hand. A translucent, poorly defined, watery hand that peters out of existence at the wrist. Seeing it floods me with tranquility. It twinkles like moonwake and grips my shoulder reassuringly before fading away.

…

Wow, I must be really tired! Guess those five hour nights finally caught up with me! As interesting as this awake-sleeping was, I’d rather not repeat it anytime soon. Or, like, ever. I have got to catch up on sleepy times this weekend.

--

By afternoon I’ve almost forgotten about the creepy lady and disembodied hand. It’s Friday, I’m too excited about finally having the time to finish my Ayato cosplay to think about sleep deprivation hallucination thingies. If I hurry, I should be able to finish the coat, maybe work on the pants some more. I need to get some more glue and find the right kind of buttons, the crafts store is still open so I’ll stop by there before going to my parents’ –

“Hey, Ally!”

A classmate drags me out of my thoughts.

“Ellie decided to throw an impromptu birthday party to herself tomorrow at her place, wanna come with us?” Lisa continues. Bryan is at her side, while Lotte and Yao come up on my right.

“She’s invited a lot of her other friends, too! Place is gonna be crawling with cute chicks!” Brian informs me as he pumps his fists. He then seems to remember he’s talking to a girl. “…Or guys, if that’s your thing”, he adds meekly.

Lisa firmly shakes her head.

“Her place can’t fit more than twenty people, and our class is gonna be at least thirteen of those people.”

“Yeah, the afterparty is what’s filled with hotties!” Lotte pipes in with stars in her eyes. Our class doesn’t actually share a lot of courses, but we try to stay in contact with each other. We have a whatsapp group, and sometimes we plan parties or get-togethers. I try to take part every now and then, but so often everyone just wants to go drinking I don’t see the point in going.

“Don’t worry, Ellie said her place is an alcohol-free zone for tonight because she doesn’t want a repeat of last year!” Lisa assures me. “It’s just gonna be music and games until we go clubbing.”

Ellie is pretty nice, and the only person I kind of consider to be a friend other than Saida. I might make friends easily, but keeping them is a genuine problem. If we hadn’t been neighbors all our lives, I don’t think I would still be friends with even Saida, either. So I’d like to at least try and hold on to Ellie while we’re still in the same school.

“Alright, I’ll be there!”

“WOOOO!!!” Lotte screams and everyone else flinches.

“Jesus Christ Lotte, control yourself!” Yao snaps at her, but of course she doesn’t give a damn. Instead, she starts dancing right there in the hallway and singing some pop song off-key. I know for a fact she’s not drunk because she acts like that even in class, but it’s still almost impossible to believe. Yao grumbles quietly and facepalms in shame before walking off without another word.

“See you tomorrow!” are Lisa’s parting words, and she smiles brightly as she waves bye. Bryan punches her lightly on the shoulder and she silently pumps her fist. They’re so happy that most of the class will be there. We used to this kind of stuff a lot more often in our first year, but then summer break came and everyone drifted apart.

“Wear something nice... but not too nice”, Lotte advises, winking conspicuously. “That’d be a bit too scary.”

“Scary how?” I ask puzzled. She just blows me a kiss before WOOTing again and pseudo-dancing out the door. In a way I almost envy her utter indifference towards social norms, being her must be so freeing. I can’t imagine the tiniest worry ever enters her head. For sure she never feels anything she does is wrong.

I popped in the crafts store on the way to my parents’ – on Friday’s we always have dinner together. This week it was dad’s turn to cook, so I helped him make the asam laksa, after hiding the curry- he always tries to put in too much, and mom’s so white she can barely salt her food.

“Bismillah”, dad and I say.

“God is great, by his hand we are all fed. Amen”, mom and I say.

My parents are great at working around their faiths. They both let the other do their own thing while holding onto their own. They never tried to teach me one faith was wrong. I came to think of God and Allah as different aspects of the same entity, in a way, and had no problems growing up bi-religious. As a child God felt closer, but after graduating middle school I became more drawn to Allah, maybe partly because of Saida. That’s when we really started being good friends, despite being neighbors since birth and always being in the same class. I even wore a hijab for a while, like her, though only for, like, ten months maybe? It wouldn’t have been even that long had my parents not been kind of worried, and had I not been a rebellious little shit. I wanted to make them squirm a bit. Imagine that, an Ally who wasn’t a total goody two shoes.

“We’ve been thinking about getting a dog”, dad tells me. “I think a Maltese would be best, they’re small and playful. A dog should be social and playful, right? Real companions. I have some breeders scouted already.”

He’s super excited about this dog. One might even say suspiciously excited…

“You’re suffering from empty nest syndrome”, I quip and chuckle.

“Nonsense, I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“You never mentioned dogs before Ally moved out, honey”, mom reminds playfully.

“What? Sure I did. The house was just too small.”

Mom rubs her chin mock-thoughtfully.

“The man doth protest too much, methinks.”

“He really doth.”

Dad gets flustered and still tries to claim he’s doing no such thing. Everyone and their grandma knows he has a soft spot for anything cute and fluffy but he still likes to pretend he doesn’t. Oh, that pink teddy bear on that shelf? It was a gift for my wife, she loves things like that. I heard your cat had kittens, can I bring my daughter over to see them? What’s a few mice, they’ll be gone by winter, getting mouse traps is too much hassle.

We had to call an exterminator for the mice. In a few months they had taken over most of the kitchen.

“Well now neither will get to name the puppy.”

Aww, and I was so looking forward to that yappy little shedding machine. I would have named it Fluffy of the Incessant Noise.

“I’m thinking O’Malley. That could then be shortened to either Max or Madsie.”

“He hasn’t been this excited since your youngest cousin was born”, mom says while nudging dad with her elbow. Dad claims the dog would be mostly for mom, so she won’t get lonely while dad’s at work. Mom says Of course, honey, and lets it slide. She has a part-time job, she’s only home alone for nine hours a few days a week.

--

I leave when it starts getting dark outside. I live close to my parents, so I decide to walk home. It’s getting a little chilly outside, but that only means the air is fresh and getting under the warm covers will feel that much better. It’s quiet – oddly quiet, it’s only quarter past eight. Why are all the lights already off? I could get a few people being asleep already, but the whole neighborhood? It’s not a blackout, the streetlights are on. Weird.

I’m starting to get a little nervous. Logically thinking there’s nothing worrying around, but my gut keeps telling me something is wrong more insistently than usually. And it’s a dangerous wrong, not the this-is-not-expected-of-you-wrong.

I pick up my pace a bit, and that’s when the streetlamps start going out, too. Each one I pass under fizzles out after me. The feeling of wrong is replaced by GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!! In a blind panic I start running, but then the lamps start breaking before I even reach them! Hot glass shards rain over me as I’m left in total darkness in a large city that never sleeps!

No, that not entirely correct… There is still one light on. A single streetlamp a dozen meters away illuminates a small patch of sidewalk. Something is standing under it. Some kind of dark creature, with long talons and glinting fangs. I can hear it chuckling darkly… and it charges at me!

On instinct I put up my dukes, only realizing after the fact that it’s probably the one choice even worse than simply running – I’ve never hit anyone in my life and would just break each of my fingers before getting mauled to death… Shit! Okay, okay – but at least this way, I can die on my own terms – bring it on, bitch!

But just as quickly as it attacked, it is defeated. A blindingly bright spear of light shoots down from the sky, piercing the creature’s head clean in the center and nailing it to the asphalt. The resulting shockwave drops me on my ass on the ground. The spear stays standing, unbearably bright to look at but barely illuminating the surroundings at all. And the creature lies there motionless, not bleeding, but it’s so obviously dead I almost want to go up to it and investigate a little. My wrong radar goes off, though, so I give up the idea.

And, well, I wouldn’t have gotten that far anyway, since now a watery, half-there hand fades into view around the hilt of the spear – the same hand from school. This doesn’t feel like a dream, and in a dream I sure wouldn’t wonder if this was all a dream, but I just have to consider the possibility. Because if this is reality, I’ll have to readjust my beliefs on ghosts and I really, really don’t want them to be real!

A faint sound of flutes drifts in as the hand lifts up the spear and offers it to someone invisible. The corpse of the demonic beast quietly crumbles to dust, and all the lights flicker back on. The invisible someone starts forming a body – at first as poorly defined as the watery hand, like a half-remembered memory, but soon solidifying into a slender, paper white arm, alabaster robe, platinum blonde curls… and massive, pure white feathery wings flaring out from this picture perfect woman’s back. A softly glowing halo hums into life above her head as a single, clear ring of a church bell tolls.

If – if this isn’t an angel, nothing is. There I am, on my ass on the pavement before an emissary of God, and I can’t even manage to not gawk at her like some fucking moron!

The angel takes the spear in her hand, the watery hand waves to me and disappears, and still I can’t manage to even close my fucking mouth!

“I take it you are unharmed?” the angel asks me, her voice pure and melodic and all that poetic crap, and all I say is “Praise be to God”, like some generic and zero-thought-process and out-of-habit phrase like that is going to do any good in this situation. THINK OF SOMETHING TO SAY, DAMN YOU BRAIN!

“Get off your ass already!” a new voice huffs and startles me enough to actually make me jump despite not even standing. On my left, there is a lesbian – honestly, that’s what best describes her! She’s wearing red flannel, for fuck’s sake! A super short lesbian, she’s almost a head shorter than even me… What the hell – heck is she doing here? Can’t she see the angel standing right there? Why isn’t she boggled out of her mind at the incredible sight?! It feels so right to be in awe of her – wait… It feels… right? Why… why isn’t anything wrong now? I… This is so confusing. Where did the wrong go?

The angel graciously offers her hand to this idiotic creature, and all I can do is stutter out a simple thank you. Partly it’s my confusion at the inexplicable disappearance of wrong, and partly because she is - and I’m not shitting or embellishing this in the slightest - the most beautiful woman I could have imagined even in my wildest dreams. It’s not just how she looks, it’s also how she feels – and yes, she does look stunning, but she also emanates this aura of peace, reverence and contentment. That aura, combined with her perfectly symmetrical, slim face, large eyes in multiple hues of blue and nearly translucent, evenly toned skin puts Aphrodite, Venus and Istar all to shame.

“Thank you”, I say automatically. The angel smiles and I swear my heart skips like ten beats. Not only is she indescribably beautiful, she’s also insanely tall – I don’t even reach her armpit. As I stare up at her like some love-struck idiot, her face subtly changes – her eyes go from double-lid to monolid, her nose flattens a bit, and her cheekbones travel upwards. She’s turned from completely Caucasian to part East Asian – like me. She skin still stays just as pale, though, it even faintly glows a white light.

“We need to go, asshats!” the lesbian snaps. I reluctantly turn to look at her instead of the wonder in front of me. Her hair is blonde as well, but instead of freely flowing long waves, it’s a straight, long bob and pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes are an even turquoise, and that’s one of the only two things worth mentioning about her looks – she’s impossibly plain. She’s so plain you can’t call her ugly, not even standing next to the angel. The other thing worth mention is that bitch face of epic proportions. How she can be anything but awestruck around the angel is beyond me, but that look makes it pretty clear she despises nothing on this planet as much as she does me.

I thought the angel would be incapable of negative emotions, but even she gives a slight glare at the lesbian, like she’s being inappropriate.

“Yes, it would be best to move on before more demons arrive.”

That thing was really a demon? Not just some monster? Why was it after me? And why am I important to warrant an honest to God angel to save me? Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just weird that a nobody like me gets special treatment. My family’s not important, and I’m not even planning a religious career.

The angel and the lesbian start walking towards my place, and I don’t question how they know where I live. I just follow, legs weak, suddenly noticing how funny the short lesbian looks next to the giant angel. As I stifle the chuckle, I realize how rude I’m being, and to a celestial being at that!

“Ah! My name’s Ally binti Badraan! Nice to meet you!”

Both women turn to look at me, but keep walking.

“We knew that”, the angel replies smiling gently. “You may call me Rapture.”

We both look at the lesbian expectantly, and she blanks for a good five seconds. What, doesn’t she know her own name?

“…Meta. Got any smokes?”

Rapture looks like she wants to facepalm, but it wouldn’t fit her image.

“Uhh, sorry, no. I don’t smoke.”

“What are you even good for?” Meta huffs. Excuse me? What the hell kind of manners are those?! She was totally raised in a barn!

“I apologize for my subordinate”, Rapture grumbles. “It may be difficult to believe she is also an angel, but she is capable despite her personality.”

What?! The lesbian is also an angel? But – she’s nothing like Rapture! She seems like the furthest thing from angel excluding demons! Rapture, yeah, she could only be an angel, but you can’t tell me that Plain McBitchy belongs in the same genus!

“I’m here to fight demons, not to baby these bonebags”, Meta comments with a sneer. I decide not to bother with her, and address Rapture.

“So you’re powers, am I correct?”

Rapture smiles so bright I swear the whole street lights up. I hate being a broken record, but she is so beautiful! I might have to look away soon, wouldn’t want my eyes to overload.

“Oh, good to see you have read your Bible! It has been very long since I met a true believer!”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I haven’t even read the whole Bible… I skipped like 70 percent of the Old Testament. I read all the angel stuff on Wikipedia.

Come to think of it, does this prove Christianity to be the only true religion? What am I going to tell dad and Saida?

I’m just about to ask, when the angels – no, I just can’t consider the lesbian an actual angel – suddenly turn invisible. We’re right at the corner of my apartment building, and I hear someone walking towards us. I don’t want to panic, because for sure Rapture wouldn’t have left me to fend for myself if it was a demon, but can you blame me for imagining the worst when I was a second away from death mere minutes ago?

I couldn’t hide behind the dumpster fast enough, and Ricky caught me at a very embarrassing situation.

“Did you drop something?” he asks. I feel my face growing red as I try to nonchalantly brush my clothes clean and look like I didn’t just dive on the ground.

“Oh, yeah, my… thing. Girl thing.”

“I have two sisters, you can say tampon”, he laughs as he throws in his trash. I am so glad he doesn’t realize I made it sound like my tampon just fell out. “Nice evening, right? If it weren’t for the lights, you could see the stars clearly.”

Yeah, the sky is clear and there’s only a light breeze in the air. I look up at the sky, but can only see a few dots here and there. I’ve always wanted to go in the countryside somewhere at night so I could see the starry sky in all its glory. It’s just that driving in complete darkness in a strange place would be a little too scary, and I am not sleeping in a car.

I catch Ricky looking at me with a slight blush on his face, and wait for the wrong to set in to discourage any kind of romantic notion. But it doesn’t come. What happened to it? It always comes at moments like this!

“Um…” Ricky starts, wrings his hands, looks at the ground, looks at me, and starts again. “I – I cooked up something really good, if you’d, maybe, like to come in and, I don’t know, watch some anime?”

Where is that sense of wrong? I feel completely fine with saying yes to this ridiculously obvious date. It’s like it’s suddenly okay to like someone.

I – I kind of want to see what happens. It doesn’t have to lead to anything serious, I can just leave if wrong returns. Claim I didn’t realize this is a date.

I’m gonna do it!

“Yeah, okay! I got some mochi at my place, you liked the green tea ones, right?”

Ricky can’t believe I just said yes. His smile is so wide you could fit a camel in his mouth, despite him clearly trying to play it cool, like he’s a smooth player.

“Those were the kind you got me for Christmas? Where did you buy them?” Aww, he remembered! He hadn’t looked too happy with his first taste of mochi, but I guess they grew on him.

“The Chinese store on West street, they got many kinds.”

“Never thought I’d say I like green tea”, Ricky jokes and stops even trying to hide his joy.

“My favorite is durian, smells horrible but tastes heavenly.”

Does that count as an accidental pun? Rapture and Meta are still around, aren’t they? Just invisible. What’s up with that, anyway?

“Was that the purple one, or –“

Ricky is cut off by Meta suddenly appearing right at his side and making him jump away in surprise.

“Will you two just get ON WITH IT!” she yells exasperated. “I’m TIRED, I need my SMOKES, and I’m not getting EITHER while you two keep standing here FLIRTING WITH EACH OTHER!”

Ricky stares at her in terrified silence, and I can’t think of anything to say either. Meta huffs again – seems to be her thing.

“Do you at least have smokes?”

Ricky shakes his head timidly.

“Well of FUCKING COURSE you don’t! Fucking useless garbage! Thirsty little bitch who probably still wets the bed…”

“What the hell Meta?!” I yell. Yeah, I’m a nice person, but I’m not gonna just stand there while this bitch insults my friend! Angel or not, she needs to show some basic respect! “You can’t just blow up like that! Apologize!”

She stares at me in stunned silence, and I can just hear the Did this bitch honestly-! Uh-huh, you bet your ass I did! “Ricky’s a nice guy, he doesn’t deserve you giving him shit for not enabling your bad habits!”

Uh-oh, bad move. Meta goes from disbelief to fite me! in under a second.

“You realize he probably beats off to you every single night? Nice guys like him watch the most fucked up Asian bondage porn”, Meta shoots, and stomps inside.

“She’s wrong!” Ricky instantly squeaks. “I don’t even watch normal person! I swear! SHE’S LYING!”

…and he escapes. I doubt this date is happening anymore.

When I get inside, Meta is already sprawled out on the couch. Rapture becomes visible the second I close the door. She begins a long, furious rant that same second.

“Meta! Your work ethics are deplorable! We are under strict orders not to show ourselves to normal humans! You mouth off any human you meet and spend your time smoking and rotting your brain with TV and lazing around and drinking and nothing I say ever gets through to you! Get up! What a fine image you are giving your client!”

Rapture is a lot less angelic when she rants at someone she clearly considers beneath her. That feel-good aura is completely gone and her face contorts in inhuman ways. Her voice also is also slowly losing its melodic qualities and turning more and more shrill every ten seconds. And she talks for many ten seconds. Wow, can she flap her lips! She just keeps going and going and going about the innumerable flaws Meta has, while the object of this rant does nothing to hide her prissiness though she never defends herself, either. Guess she’s used to this, and knows the fastest way to get it over with is not to argue. I may not like her, and maybe I do agree with Rapture on many points, but it’s still overkill to put someone down for almost ten minutes.

“Please calm down, Rapture, I’m sure she got the message.”

Despite this being such a meek protest, she actually turns to face me – her eyes have turned black and her face is considerably more angular and sharp than earlier. She returns back to normal in seconds, like she forgot I was here and tries to pretend she didn’t just chew out her partner. Her huge wings knock off two glasses on my table, which thankfully don’t break, and after some deliberation she decides her visage is angelic enough without the wings. She sheds them by letting the feathers fall of in a dramatic cascade. Fortunately they fall through the floor and don’t just pile up for me to clean up.

“I assume you would like an explanation of the situation?” she asks, and I nod. Behind her back Meta rolls her eyes and drops back on the couch. “Your grandchild will be the second coming of the messiah.”

Messiah? As in, Jesus Christ? And his second coming? Woah, seems Christianity is the only religion. Am I gonna have to give up Allah?

“We will stay here to protect you, to ensure the bloodline keeps going.”

“Have you been protecting me my whole life? But – why would you never show yourselves?”

You’d think protecting me was a little easier if I knew what could happen to me. I could, you know, maybe try and prepare, instead of freezing and trying to fistfight a demon. Plus I probably would have gone to church a lot more often. God likes it when people go to church.

“Oh, no, we were assigned to this task today. Powers are much too conspicuous – before this, a guardian angel was more suited to the task. They are everywhere and have very little power, so they do not attract attention. But now that you have been discovered, Satan will do all in his power to break the bloodline. He will do anything to escape judgment.”

She smiles reassuringly, but suddenly her smile doesn’t captivate me like it just minutes before. Yeah, she’s still super beautiful, but hearing her nag so passionately didn’t exactly earn her points in my book.

“Not to worry, we can take anything the enemy throws at you.”

Right, yeah, I guess I should be worried about my own life, now that she mentioned it.

“So Christianity’s God is the only true god?” I blurt out. Rapture smiles brightly, while Meta vigorously shakes her head behind her back.

“So… is He or isn’t He?”

“Of course He is! What else would He be?” Rapture barks.

“He’s so far from the only one he’s not even a decimal”, Meta comments. Rapture shoots her a truly venomous look, and clearly plans to lecture her some more later.

This is all a bit much to take in… I’m the grandmother of Jesus, and angels can’t agree on whether God is the only god or not, and I’m gonna have to tell mom and dad all this craziness… Oh and my life is gonna be in danger basically 24/7 now.

“Okay guys, I need some alone time. Good night, sorry but I only have that one couch… Try and share it or something.”

Rapture lets out an indignant scoff, but I don’t look at her. I just close the bedroom door and fall on the bed. I should do my evening prayers, but what can I even say tonight? Should I pray to both my Gods, or just one? Should I address one to all the possible deities, since Meta said there’s a whole lot? Would just one shared prayer do or am I gonna have to sit here ‘til I faint from hunger?

Eventually I settle on praying to both God and Allah, as I do every evening. I simply pray for guidance. As predicted, Rapture nags at Meta, but at least she’s doing it quietly, and lets me fall asleep.

--

Crumbs… Crumbs everywhere… Poor sandwiches, can’t be easy going to school when you shed all over the floors and eat yourself for lunch, and Ham can’t even find its cow.

“BLESSED SILENCE!”

I hear a confused groan and it takes a few seconds to realize I’m the one who made it. It’s pitch black in my room.

“Sorry, it got a little too quiet”, Meta explains. I groan again. This is just great, she woke up in the fucking dead of night because it was too quiet? That’s the ideal for night!

At least I fall asleep again reasonably quick.