#and if I squint real hard I can kind of see a valid point lost somewhere in the fog

[17yearslatewithlattes]

New Sam take just dropped: watching your Mom burn to death at 4 doesn’t count as real trauma

[shimmershae]

Just watched the episode and I’m going to have a lot of thoughts for you, most of them probably bordering on incoherence (LOL) so this is your last chance to nope on out of this post because I’m going to go ahead and put everything else behind a cut to save the eyes that do not want to see any  spoilers at all.  Unlike mine, that very much wanted to see but in a lot of cases?  Could not see shit, but I digress.

Shae’s stream of consciousness coming at you in 3-2-1.  

First of all, can I saw how good it is to have my show back again?  Like, no.  I don’t quite have Season 5 levels of excitement about the new/last season, but it is definitely nice to have all these characters back.  

So all these thoughts of mine.  Okay.  Bear with me because there be a whole lot of them, lol.  

My immediate impression as the episode opened was WHOA.  Such a cool shot of Daryl with one light wing, one dark wing (representing the two sides to Daryl maybe--the man of honor versus the man he was raised to be, hmm?) looking out over some dark vista of something.  Seriously.  It’s dark.  My room is also dark at the moment and still I was squinting to see.  To make out what I’m “looking” at.  I really, really hope the rest of this season isn’t this hard to make out.  

Is that a tank?  Kinda sorta a callback to Rick’s first episode?  If so, cool.  If not, well.  Us fans have always put way more thought into things.  For real.  Change my mind.  

Holy intense eye contact, Batman!  Daryl Dixon has literally never looked at anyone--not BethusConLeah--in quite the same smoldering way as he looks at Carol.  It’s next level.  I don’t know why people be fooling themselves into thinking different.  

Let’s see.  I can make out--besides Daryl, Maggie, and that face mask dude I already forgot the name of--Kelly, Magna, Jerry (who’s that with him?), and Carol.  Sorry.  My world, like Daryl’s, inevitably narrows to Carol.  She’s loking fierce and fine AF per usual.  

Was that Rosita I noticed rewinding to relive Daryl eye-fucking Carol?  

I’m guessing this is the army base they talked about in 10C.  

That Walker perking up like “I smell food--pancakes and bacon and oohhhh” has me giggling inappropriately right off the bat.  WTF.  

Look at all my fabulous ladies tiptoeing through that Walker minefield.  And Carol spotting that gun that might be useful right away.  Listen, if you don’t think her mind ain’t always ten steps ahead of everybody else’s, you’d be wrong.  

So.  Are these Walkers just so old and feeble not even the call of fresh meat attracts them?  Because just tiptoeing through their midst without the knockoff Lady Gaga meatsuits or skin masks has never really worked before that I can remember.  

I just want to see most of this season.  Is that really too much to ask?  Don’t X-Files and Game of Thrones us, Angela.  Please and thank you very fucking much.  

Okay.  Is the one drop of blood thing making anybody else have 28 Days Later vibes?  Kinda?  Sorta?  No?  Just me?  Okay then.  Carry on.  

Wait a minute, though.  How they be explaining how Daryl keeeps acquiring all these new tats all the time?  Hmm?  It’s like they just quit giving a shit about continuity in these latter seasons.  

I mean.  Do Walkers sleep now?  LMAO.  What is this?  I guess they’re constantly evolving?  

There’s my baby Lydia.  Love my smol bean.  

Alright though.  I love to see the ladies of TWD kick some ass.  It’s very gratifying.  Gimps would never.  Thank you, Angela.  

Clever, resourceful, calm and collected, quick thinking Carol to the rescue!  Seriously.  Her haters must be withering away inside with absolute envy.  

Hey, ya’ll.  Remember when Carol was still mastering her sharpshooting skills at the Prison yard and shot at Rick’s feet?  Her little “sorry, sorry”?  LOL.  If Rick could only see her now.  Wait.  He already knew what so many of his stans refuse to acknowledge--Carol=ultimate survivor and true savior to the group many times over.  

Maggie’s got herself a gun, too.  Go my badass girls.  

Of course, Carol’s got everybody’s back.  Of fucking course, Daryl’s got hers even when everybody else seem frozen in some kind of awe or stupification or something.  Microcosm of the whole damn show right there.  

Carol’s like “here’s your knives, love of my life.”   

Eh.  Maybe that’s just me.  

Nah.  She’s totally thinking it, too.  

YAS!  YAS!  Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride with the top billing.  How very far my babies have come.  

Listen.  I miss all the characters we’ve lost.  Absolutely.  But I love the ones that are still with us, that have been with us for so very long so hard.  Whether I love their stories or decisions or not.  

Is that THE Alexandria sign?  That sign’s been through some shit.  

DOG!  Daryl kneeling to embrace our Grimes babies has me all up in my feels.  And how cute is Dog getting all excited and making sure he’s the first one there to welcome back, Daddy?  

Hershel is literally just as puppy dog cute as Glenn ever was.  Really some Grade A casting.  

What did Maggie call Mr. T?  Ducky?  Dougie?  Sometimes with Maggie?  I really cannot tell.  Anyway.  He’s Mr. T. for me until I find out differently, probably through rewatching with close captioning, lol.  

Maggie’s got more people.  So.  Some new redshirts to sacrifice for plot purposes.  I don’t know if I should bother learning their names or not. 

I seem to remember Meridian being mentioned in one of the episode synopses.  

Sophia’s hair tie around Carol’s neck will never fail to be an emotional throat punch.  My heart.  

“They come at night and by the time you see them, you’re already dead.”  Welp.  Guess that means we ain’t seeing shit for at least this first third of the season, lol.  Very horror-eque though.  

“You’re leaving to fight ghosts.”  Aaron, to Maggie.  So I see Aaron’s the type to get the hell outta Dodge when the Boogeyman comes calling, hahaha.  Least he was.  In the old world.  

Rosita’s pissed off expression at Gabe’s decision to volunteer for the so-called suicide mission gives me life.  

My baby Carol is tired AF of suicide missions.  You can tell.  Also?  Methinks she has something to prove to Daryl here.  Or at least feels like she does.  

Dog with his little tactical vest.  I love it.  

I guess I get why they had Carol and Rosita stay behind.  They had to more evenly split up the badassery to make things more fair and balanced, lol.  

Okay.  So Negan’s definitely earned everybody’s disdain.  But they’re being woefully short-sighted by not at least hearing the dude out.  Isn’t he at least native to the area?  

“That is God telling us to turn around.”  I’m actually on Negan’s side with this one, but Gabe answering him with “I’m pretty sure he would have run that past me first” has me howling with laughter.  Father Gabe has gone straight up savage in these last couple of seasons.  Rosita’s influence, perhaps?  

I see what Angela is doing.  Trying to make Negan the voice of reason.  In this particular case?  It’s kind of working.  I’m still ultimately on Maggie’s side with this though BECAUSE GLENN.  

Imagine showing up to work and unironically dressing like a storm trooper every day.  Excuse me while I LOL.  

Even in the ZA, there’s bullshit paperwork.  

“Pumpkin colored spacesuit.”  Good one, Ezekiel.  

LOL forever.  I love Princess.  

“Michonne.  Our Michonne shut people out of Alexandria for years.”  Timely reminder that choices aren’t always perfect.  Neither are people.  

WTF is reprocessing?  Sounds ominous.  LMAO at Eugene’s “Okay.  We gotta go.”  

What in the actual hell with all those bagged, squirming undead?  Creepy AF in that subway tunnel.  

Should I just go ahead and call that the Easter bunny?  We’ve had some version of it pop up since Season 1.  

Is it stubborn pride with Maggie or what?  Why go through with something when all signs point toward the wisdom of stopping?  You can argue that she’s acting similarly to Carol last season, but there’s a huge difference here folks.  Carol did her damndest to Lone Wolf that shit and minimize the danger to those she loved.  Maggie’s straight up enlisting those she “cares about” to carry out her mission of revenge or vengeance, what have you. Let’s see if she gets near the amount of hate for it.  Personally, I don’t blame her for her feelings one bit.  They are valid.  But her knowingly drawing the others into the game?  That’s my sticking point.  That’s how she and Carol differ, even if some people refuse to see or accept it.  Anyway.  Hopping right on off my soapbox.  

“Why don’t you get up on your little tippy toes and try?”  Omigosh, I’d dying.  When I tell you I about passed out with laughter, I do not exaggerate.  I should hate Negan forever and I do.  Really.  But I adore JDM and he frequently makes me LOL.  He’s made Negan entertaining if not completely redeemable since Angela took over and more layered so I say kudos.  

He has a point about Maggie playing dictator.  Damn you, show, for slanting the writing just that smidgen that makes Negan make sense over his victim.  I guess, though, it’s better this way.  Gives both characters more shades of gray.  

“He’s a dick but he makes sense.”  I feel like this is Angela calling us all out when we dare to harbor any lasting resentment toward Negan for what he did to Glenn.  

Speaking of--Negan.  You deserved Daryl’s punch to the mouth.  You just went a bridge too damn far.  

“Keep pushing me, Negan.  Please.”  Warning shots fired, Asshole.  You better watch yourself around the Widow Rhee.  

Have I mentioned how much I love Princess?  Her shipping the Commonwealth guards is killing me, lol.  I can’t wait ‘til she meets Carol and Daryl.  She’s going to have their number in two seconds flat.  

I like Ezekiel and Princess as a duo.  I’m not saying romantically necessarily.  I just like them in scenes together because they’re fun.  There’s sort of a protective indulgence Ezekiel seems to telegraph whenever they’re in scenes together.  Like he’s like don’t hurt this one.  I don’t know.  For all these words I’ve written, I can’t quite find the ones to adequately describe what I mean.  

The wall of the lost gives me such Battlestar Galactica feels.  What sad thoughts it inspires.  

Eugene in that Commonwealth gear.  Omigosh, lol.  So did they just sneak up and take Princess’s little Commonwealth ship’s gear when they were sneaking off on their own to have a quickie?  

Princess finding that note for Yumiko on the wall actually gave me chills.  Yeah.  I’m easy.  Just the suggestion of someone getting reunited with lost family gets me all up in my feels.  Yumiko saying “I have to stay”?  I felt that.  

Oh no.  Dog ran off!  Somebody protect my favorite fictional puppy.  Of course, Daryl goes after him.  He’s always been the sweet one.  Merle said it.  

Eh.  Negan taking Maggie’s hand at the end there would have smacked too much of Negan Sue and Maggie’s biggest plot of the season would have been prematurely dealt with so I get why they did what they did.  But c’mon.  It’s not really that big of a cliffhanger, is it?  

Okay, so Angela calls those sleeping beauty Walkers “Lurkers” and I get it.  Apparently they’re a bigger deal in the comics, but I really don’t remember seeing them all that much on the actual show.  Somebody jog my memory.  

Of fucking course, you can actually see what’s happening in the inside the episode clips.  I wish we could choose to view the episode with that lighting because some of us be blind.  And this time I mean in the more literal sense.  Not the figurative one.  

Anyway.  I’m going to stop trying to write a novel for ya’ll and move on to better things.  Like maybe a nap.  Maybe some early dinner.  I don’t know.  I’m tired AF and need a little recharge.    

Before I go, though?  Overall impression of the episode?  I liked it.  There were parts that I loved (all the ladies being badass, every second of Carol, Daryl reuniting with the Grimes babies and Dog, all things Princess, some of Negan’s one-liners about had me busting a gut, Rosita serving looks, Kelly and Lydia getting to be badass too) and parts I didn’t love (not being able to see a damn thing, Angela trying to tip the scales in Negan’s favor, not enough Carol or Aaron or Rosita, no reunion between Aunt Carol and the Grimes babies even though that picture floating around suggests it was at least shot, not being able to see a damn thing, all the Alexandria people playing follow the leader for Maggie when she’s been gone 6 years and Daryl’s right there--hell, even Father G deserves the honor over her because it’s obvious they’re not exactly on the same wavelength anymore).  

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just glad to have our show back.    

Later, lovelies.  

[writer-and-artist27]

Book Reflections

Note: Inspired by this skit from the Chaldea Gurus, some of the new interludes in Interlude Campaign 9 in FGO that featured Murasaki Shikibu, and the feelings I felt when I ended up pulling both Jeanne and Jeanne Alter (Avenger) in the same span of time. I’ll refer you all to this song from the apparent Tsukihime anime I never knew about until now, just for a tone-setter.

Written to give myself a mental break before starting to study for my Immunology final.

For @partialdignity, as fluff inspiration and just because our conversations in this past week has been helping me regain energy. Small mentions to Rem and @hasquetzdoneanythingwrong with his pairing in Rex and Quetzalcoatl have also been thrown in for good measure.

Please enjoy, friends. :)

------------------------------------

It didn’t take much for Vy to blink once a shadow was looming over the previously lit pages in her hands. It was hard to ignore the long strand of black hair brushing the edges of the page she was poking at, too. “What are you reading, Master?”

Vy slowly raised her head from her book, squinting as best as she could to focus her view before lurching back a little. “Oh. H-Hi, Saki-san.”

“Hello to you too, Vy.” Even with her image blurred from Vy having put down her glasses, Murasaki Shikibu’s smile was still easy to make out as the Caster kneeled down to Vy’s sitting height, purple eyes warm and inviting. “You don’t have to sit against the shelves to read,” Murasaki continued in the same soft voice, raising a hand to gently press her palm against Vy’s head. Vy couldn’t help but notice a single index finger in particular brushing some stray hairs away from her forehead. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I-It’s been a while since someone asked that to me, Saki-san,” Vy replied in just as quiet of a voice, a wry smile on her face. “But,” Vy glanced down at the book in her hands before shrugging her shoulders in Murasaki’s general direction. “I’m just reading a book that my parents once read to me.”

“Ah,” Murasaki said. “May I see?”

“Aye.” Vy gently placed her Eevee Pokémon card (it made for a good bookmark in her opinion) in-between the pages to mark her place, nestling the small thing just above the book’s spine before closing it and handing it to Chaldea’s librarian. Muraski’s eyes skimmed the covers for a moment before widening, and she raised her head to look at Vy with surprise and what Vy could only guess as warmth and care. “I’m guessing it’s a surprise to see me read this?”

“A little bit, but it makes sense considering it’s you, Vy,” Murasaki said, although her voice came out all the more gentle and fond with the inflection. “I heard from the other Servants how you knew about some of us from reading as a child, but I didn’t exactly expect to see this after everything you’ve been through.”

Vy giggled a little, taking the book back once Murasaki offered it to her. “Even when knowing the real people, there’s something about coming back to the books that makes me feel like I’m back at home with Mommy and Daddy, Saki-san. Reading National Geographic’s reiteration of Robin Hood just brings back the nostalgia when I need a break. Everyone’s been running around for Quetz-san’s birthday lately, so the library’s been a good place to be alone.” A shaky, nervous laugh left Vy’s lips as she glanced down at the book in her hands. “More so when I haven’t exactly figured out a present yet. Rex might have my head if Quetz-san doesn’t.”

Murasaki’s hand froze mid-retraction from Vy’s head. “Master…”

Even without her glasses, Vy could see Murasaki’s hesitation, and thus reached up with her own hand to rest a palm against Murasaki’s cheek. “I’m okay, Saki-san,” she said softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure something out.”

“That… is a hard thing to abide by, not worrying about you,” Murasaki replied, but she still reached up to grip the hand Vy was using to cup her cheek, squeezing softly. “But as long as you don’t push yourself, then I can settle for that much, Master.”

Vy smiled up at the Caster. “I’ll do my best, Saki-san.”

Murasaki let Vy’s hand go at the exact same time Vy turned back to her book, but she still sat down on her knees near Vy’s side, long hair brushing the floor. “Still, is there anything I could do for you, Vy?”

“Just…” Vy considered, taking a quiet breath. “If it’s okay, some quiet company would be nice, Saki-san."

Murasaki proceeded to shift, and without her full vision, Vy could still see how Murasaki was moving her ceremonial robes underneath her legs so that she could fully sit in quiet seiza next to Vy against the shelves. “Of course,” Caster said softly, smile in her voice. “But why sit against the bookshelves, Vy? We have chairs and those modern ‘bean bags’ in the library if you so wished to rest against those instead.”

“Why not the bookshelves?” Vy pointed out, a giggle leaving her lips again. “When I was little, I’d always like to visit the library and read like this, feeling the books in my hands and the spines of other books against my back. It was cozy. Still is now, actually."

“As much as that is… endearing,” Murasaki said dutifully, “you could strain your back if you keep sitting against the shelves without proper support, Vy.” There was some rustling, and Vy did her best not to resist when a hand was gently pushing at her shoulders so that a cushion could be placed between herself and the bookshelves. “Be careful, okay?”

“Aye, and thankie, Saki-san.” With seating secured, Vy opened her book again, glancing over the faded illustrations and the Pokémon trading card nestled in-between them before smiling again. “I guess, just to explain a little more, if you don’t mind, Saki-san…”

“I don’t mind,” Murasaki said, a hand gently patting Vy’s head all over again. “Go ahead, Master, if it comforts you to talk with me.”

“Then thankie again, for listening.” Vy paused, considering the first thought on her mind. The book underneath her fingers felt a bit colder than before. Maybe it was the air conditioning.

“Vy?” Murasaki said after a moment of silence.

“…I know Big Robin and everyone here won’t leave again if they could say anything about it,” Vy said softly, “but I wanted to come back to this book in particular because it started a lot of things for me.” She closed her eyes, letting her blurred vision go away for a moment to speak freely. “Sometimes, Mommy and Daddy would drive me to the library after school, and I’d find this book and keep rereading it between homework assignments. I still remember looking at the kind man in green and enjoying the idea of a hero who looked out for the common person. For people who were too poor and weak to fend for themselves. And, I get it, sometimes life doesn’t go the way it does in books and fairy tales. But I couldn’t help it.”

Even Big Robin said that, once upon a time.

Murasaki hummed in thought, the hand on Vy’s head gently brushing her hair. “It doesn’t,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t make those stories any less valid, Master.”

“And I’m glad to hear that,” Vy answered, leaning into Murasaki’s touch. “It’s just… it’s still unbelievable sometimes, that there’s so many heroes that I know now that would do that for me.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Murasaki echoed, her touch lingering against Vy’s scalp as she continued to pet Vy’s hair. “A hero is still human in the end, Vy.”

We love you too much, was left unsaid, but still echoing through their mental connection.

Vy nodded. “Aye…” She still leaned against Murasaki’s hand, feeling a sigh bubble up in her throat. “I just want to make sure I can keep being good to you all to deserve all that.”

Murasaki’s hand froze again, this time mid-stroke of Vy’s hair. “Vy…”

“I-It’s a weird thought, but I couldn’t help thinking it when I look back at all the enemies we’ve fought since the original Chaldea fell,” Vy admitted, lowering her head. “Mash has been sighing a lot more lately, Rem hasn’t been feeling that great either, and with Rex being here and there with our missions, I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing enough, is all…” With a small shrug of her shoulders, Vy turned the page, ignoring the urge to put on her glasses. The words were a bit blurry no thanks to her lacking the usual corrective lenses, but Vy could still see all the pictures and thus find warmth curling up in her chest. It was a better feeling than being weighed down by guilt. “…I just look at our enemies and think, ‘I don’t want to become like them.’”

“Like Kadoc and that other Tamamo?” Murasaki filled in quietly. “Vy, I don’t think you ever will. Become like them, I mean.”

“I-I dunno about that, considering the Lostbelts we had to handle, Saki-san. That other Tama-san…” Vy shook her head. “That wasn’t Tama-san. She was mean, she put people down, and she laughed at all of us like we were nothing. She and that priest killed Da Vinci like it was nothing. She even poisoned a cake like it was nothing, and cake is supposed to be a comfort thingie. Kadoc kept blaming us for his own failures, and,” Vy grit her teeth, “saw Mash as a non-person. Kept boasting that he was better. But… he still fought us when he said he could’ve done better for Humanity. He still became an enemy of Humanity when he claimed he could’ve been better for it. What was the point in all that… All the death…”

Murasaki didn’t say anything.

“I-I guess…” Vy’s index finger lingered on a single picture of a green cloak and bright hair as a sad smile played with her lips. “I wanted to come back to this book just to remind myself that I’m still me. That even after three Lostbelts, after destroying three whole histories of people, I haven’t lost all of me yet when trying to get Mommy and Daddy back. That kindness still means something when it’s one of the first things Mommy and Daddy taught me through this book.”

“Vy…”

Vy raised her head to smile, sheepish laugh leaving her lips. “I-I mean, I hope that makes sense! It’s kinda weird, huh? I-I’m sorry for rambling on you, Saki-san.”

Even with her blurred vision, it was obvious Murasaki was feeling something, because her normally calm features were overcome with what looked like tears. “It’s not weird,” Murasaki said shakily, pulling on the back of Vy’s head to gently bump their foreheads together. “And thank you for telling me this, Master.” A shaky breath echoed between them, and Vy couldn’t tell if it came from her or Murasaki. “You are kind, Vy. So much. More than what a lot could claim of you too, and I hope you continue to stay that way.”

“H-How do you know that, Saki-san?” Vy asked weakly. “N-Not to be rude or anything.”

Instead of responding immediately, Murasaki gently let her hand that was on Vy’s head fall, letting it rest against her ceremonial robes as a sparkle shone in those purple eyes. She then scooted back to provide some extra distance, a new serene smile on her face all the while. “I know, Vy, because I am not the only Servant who feels that way.”

Vy glanced back down at the book in her lap, vaguely registering a hint of something green that wasn’t a part of the illustrations suddenly being in view, before looking up.

Another new hand was on top of her head now (when did that get there?), and Vy blinked once Robin Hood made himself known with a barely audible step forward and the calloused fingers pulling her in just for faintly chapped lips to press against her forehead.

“It’s about time for your scheduled daily nap, little sparrow,” Robin Hood whispered against her head, a gentle smile on his face once he pulled back. Vy could feel her breath stall in her throat as she looked up at him, and he merely offered her glasses to her with his other hand. It was telling how Robin wasn’t even fazed at Murasaki’s surprised and quiet “Awawawa”s at his arrival. “I think that’s enough philosophical reading with Caster when you still have a cake to bake later. Not to mention handling your usual mana drain.”

Vy felt herself smile up at the May King before she realized it, the warmth in her chest growing to eclipse her entire heart. “Always going about checking up on me, huh, Big Robin?”

“Who else is going to do it?” Robin said snarkily, but he still kept his volume to a whisper as he turned his head to wink at Murasaki. “Saber and Rider are still making sure that dancing Samba Santa’s clueless about your birthday plans, little sparrow. You just gotta reserve the kitchen when you wake up later.”

“S-So you did have an idea!” Murasaki said in amazement.

“I know, a-and Saki-san, it’s still in the works.” Vy still gently got up from her sitting place with Robin’s help once he offered his arm, leaning against his shoulder once she was standing and hugging the book that started everything to her chest. “Think I’d be able to convince Rex and Quetz-san that the cake isn’t a lie with maraschino cherries? And that Rem would like double-decker chocolate?”

Even without wearing her glasses, Vy could feel both Robin and Murasaki smile at her.

“I think, Vy,” Murasaki said in a warm whisper, “that as long as you’re not alone, you’ll be just fine.”

[sophisticated-creepy]

Lola’s mind was swarming. Although one thought seamlessly bled into the next, there was a supreme lack of a single thread with which to follow, and completely lost in the void of her own mind, she hadn’t noticed she’d walked passed her destination, realizing halfway down the next block she had to double back to reach Curios and Oddities. She was stepping up to the main entrance as Modesta was walking out, holding the door open wide for a customer who had finished purchasing an order of candles and dreamcatchers, the lady’s arms draped in large shopping bags.

“Thanks again, and have a pleasant day,” Modesta told the satisfied shopper. “Lola! I thought I saw you walking by.”

“Hi, Modesta,” Lola chirped, perhaps a tad too sharply to even her own ears. “How was inventory?”

“Fine,” Modesta answered, her eyebrows knitting together in question. Lola’s energy was sporadic and fluctuating, sending out an unsettling vibe despite standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe that was the issue: Lola was merely standing. Lola didn’t “stand”, she fluttered, like an overly caffeinated butterfly. If Modesta did find her friend by chance to be in a state of rest, some other part of her was usually moving, whether it were her arms gesturing about grandly during some ostentatious storytelling, or her eyes dancing to absorb the scenery around her. Lola was like the wind, and rarely remained stagnant, so when she noticed the eerie calm in the way Lola remained motionless, staring at nothing, she was immediately on edge and completely creeped out.

“Look, I know Halloween is right around the corner, but you are really starting to freak me out, Lola. Do you need help or something?”

“Sorry,” Lola spoke. She then blinked, her shoulders slouching downwards naturally, shifting back into a more fluid realm of movement and mannerisms. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Yes, actually, I was wondering if you could help me. Are you busy, or can we talk for a moment?”

“I’m not too terribly busy, come on in. What’s on your mind? You were a total zombie on the sidewalk just now.” Lola was ushered into the warmth of the shop, the scent of vanilla and cookies instantly had her relaxing, feeling once more at peace and in control of her rampant thoughts and imagination.

“I’m processing a lot of information,” Lola began as she stepped into the sacred space. “Actually, I’m trying to get some research done on a new story for a writing contest I’m entering.”

Modesta gave a light laugh. “Oh! Another story, huh? That explains your zone-out. What’s your theme this time?”

“The Hobblin’ Goblin.”

“Of course it is,” Modesta laughed harder. “Why did I even bother to ask?”

“Anyway…,” Lola transitioned, giving her friend a look that clearly meant she herself was not amused. “I have a deadline in little over a week, so I need to get as much research done as possible before I can do any actual writing.”

“Do you really need to do research? I thought you knew all there was to your loveable Hobblin’ Goblin.”

“It’s rather quite shocking on how much I don’t know, except for the everyday basics: he’s a goblin, he hobbles, walks with a crutch, and plays pranks. I don’t know the real, tangible origins, so I’m looking for the deeper meaning. I’m looking for his story.”

“I’ve never thought about it from that angle before,” Modesta admitted. “It’s a unique way to portray the legend, that’s for sure.”

Aggrievedly, Lola leaned her hip against a tall table stacked with candles and heaved a sigh. “I want to get some personal testimonies of people experiencing a real run-in with Mr. Goblin as part of my research to get a truer feel of his hauntings, but I’m coming to realize it’s going to be near impossible to sort the differences between a Hobblin’ haunt and a regular haunt.”

“I can help with that!” Jack sprung up from behind the furniture piece Lola and Modesta were talking next to, his boisterous appearance scaring the living daylights out of the two women, having the whole shop of customers stare in their direction as they each let out a scream of fright.

“Jack!” Modesta scolded after catching her breath. “Have you been waiting behind that table this whole time to scare us?”

Laughing, Jack nodded. “I was. But, do you at least get my point?”

“What are you talking about?” Lola asked, still trying to get her racing heartbeat under control.

“I heard you talking about the Hobblin’ Goblin. He pulls pranks, just like me, and like any other prankster, his jokes are mainly for his enjoyment,” Jack informed. “You can’t rely on the typical moans and groans and rattling of chains. You need to look for the fun.”

Lola snapped her fingers in confirmation. “That’s exactly what I said to Stacy. I’m looking for what makes the Hobblin’ Goblin so special, and I believe it lies in the fun. Do you mind if I record you saying that, Jack? From one trickster to another, I’m sure you’ve got some great insight I could borrow.” Eager to get a new perspective on her favorite goblin, Lola began digging around in her purse to renew her quest of investigation.

“Did you hear that, Mo? I get to be recorded,” Jack smugly stated, plastering on a cheesy smile a charlatan of yore would envy.

“I don’t think the world is ready for your mug,” Modesta sarcastically shot back. Lola emerged from her handbag, holding her tape recorder towards Jack’s face, his smile swapping out for a confused pout as he stared down the microphone of the handheld device.

“Tell me again about the motivation of tricksters, Jack,” Lola sweetly requested.

“Yes, Jack,” Modesta agreed, stifling her laughter to the best of her ability. “Tell the audio world all about it.”

“Uh, Lola, when you said ‘record’, I assumed---.” Jack trailed off, not wanting to hurt the wannabe reporter’s feelings, as Lola’s innocent expression at recording him with her archaic equipment weighed heavily against his conscience.

“Oh, shit, hold on,” Lola cursed. “I need to take notes.” Lola’s quick movements to try and free up her hands in order to get a pen and her notebook caused her to jumble and jostle the items in her arm, and she dropped her notepad along with the newspaper straight to the floor in a flurry of commotion. Modesta bent down to help Lola retrieve her items. When her fingertips brushed the newspaper, she hissed, jolted by the sharp sensation, and yanked her arm back, the feeling as if she had touched the coils of a stovetop scorching into her fingers. Looking at the periodical, her eyes fell on the front page, the grainy image of the train yard staring back at her, and Modesta could have sworn she had been punched in the gut.

“Oh, no. Nope. Not okay, and not today. Nada, nope, not happening,” she stammered furiously, and shoved the paper away from her. “I don’t know why you brought that newspaper into my store, but you need to take it outside now.”

Lola reclaimed the newspaper, slowly picking it up off the floor. “Well, that helps answer some of my questions,” she softly stated.

“Everything all right?” asked Jack.

“I was hoping Modesta would take a look at this picture in the newspaper. Even I got a weird vibe from it, and I wanted to get her opinion on the photo, too.” Lola gave the paper to Jack so he could take a look at the cause of excitement.

“Is this the train yard where that attack was made?” he asked, and Lola nodded.

“What attack?” Modesta asked, unconsciously staggering away from Jack as he held the paper out, studying the photo intensely. The residual tingle of being burned lingered on her fingertips, and her hackles were prickling in warry foreboding.

“I heard about it on the radio last night. A security guard was attacked by a demon,” Jack informed, dropping his voice at the end to whisper so as not to alarm nearby customers.

“A demon?” Modesta repeated, crossing her arms and raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? Someone approved that statement to be broadcasted all over local radio?”

“Hey, there’s no mention of the demon in the paper,” Jack stated, turning the pages to try and find the rest of the story.

“Why would there be? The article said it was the work of some kids’ prank gone wrong,” Lola interjected.

“What I heard,” Jack began, “was that the security guard was attacked by a hunched over shadow creature he saw lurking just outside the trees of the forest.”

“How would the radio station know that? The newspaper said the guard has a concussion and a fractured skull. He couldn’t make a statement. His partner found him after he fell,” Lola surmised.

“The dates are wrong, too,” Jack continued, his gaze sharp on the paper. “I heard about the attack happening two nights ago, not last night.”

“Maybe the radio got it wrong,” Lola theorized. “Or, maybe the paper has a misprint. Wait!” Jack’s words began to poke at Lola’s mind, helping to fit pieces of the puzzle together from her earlier haphazard thoughts. “Did you say something about a hunched over shadow creature? Here, let me see that again.” Lola reached for the newspaper and turned to the front page, squinting hard once more at the blurry image. “I can’t tell for sure,” she said at last.

“What are you looking for?” Modesta asked, still standing on the outskirts of her friends thanks to the uneasy item of interest.

“I think the photographer caught an image in the forest, but I can’t make it out. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but could you please take a look for me, Mo? I get the feeling something’s there, but I need you to validate it or not.”

“Oh, there’s something in that photo, all right,” Modesta confirmed, not even having to look at the image, refusing to touch the newspaper.

“Let me take a look in a better light,” Jack requested, and leading the others to the main checkout counter, spread the pages out on the glass surface. Leaning over the image, he peered closely at the tree line. “I think I can make out a shape. Here, right?” Jack pointed to the same shape that first caught Lola’s attention. "It looks cut off, but that might really be a picture of some kind of figure.”

“Oh, my gracious!” Lola gasped. “What if this is proof of the Hobblin’ Goblin?” she asked in a burst of delight. “Isn’t he rumored to have lived in the forest? What if, what if,” she stressed, “this is him?” Her heartrate had picked back up several faster beats per minute, and the pleasant prickle of goosebumps began crawling up her arms, her earlier disposition melting to give way to the wash of excitement lighting her features. “We’ve got to check this place out!”

“No, Lola,” Modesta cut in harshly. “Absolutely not.” Lola turned to her sour friend, the brusque declaration confusing, and her expression must have read as much, for Modesta pointedly tapped a firm finger on the counter where they all hovered above the newspaper. “This is not safe,” the consternated brunette stated evenly.

“I don’t understand,” Lola spoke. “Why are you so spooked?”

“You wanted my opinion? This is it: stay away.”

“What exactly are you picking up on?” Jack questioned.

“I’m all for Lola doing her research on the legend of the Hobblin’ Goblin,” Modesta began to elaborate. “Since you’re looking for the ‘fun’, I suggest you stick to that route. This,” she indicated, waving her hand over the newspaper, “is not him.”

Lola’s excitement quelled as she stared down at the shape in the photo, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth in contemplation as she considered Modesta’s words compared to her impulse to investigate. This article was a tangible lead, a jumping point for her story to breathe life and take flight. She trusted her friend’s opinion, but nothing short of her own prodding could satiate Lola’s curiosity once it had been roused.

“I trust your judgment,” Lola began carefully, “but maybe we should check things out for ourselves. Come out to the train yard with me tonight.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m leading that workshop tonight and Jack is helping run the store, so don’t even bother asking him,” Modesta replied.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized, shrugging his shoulders in pre-obligated surrender.

“Besides, you’d be trespassing. You don’t have the authority to go traipsing around on private property after hours anyway,” Modesta reminded. If it were anymore possible, Lola’s exuberance and spirits deflated with the realization that she wasn’t, in fact, allowed to do her investigating after hours. A rebellious side of her stayed hopeful, however, and the back of her mind was already formulating plans to get the research she so desperately sought.

“Lola,” Modesta drawled in warning, seeing the gleam of trouble brewing behind her friend’s eyes. “Give me your word you’re not going to go after this figure. Leave it alone.”

Lola rolled her eyes, but still held a smile, always appreciative of Modesta’s caring and cautious nature. “I give you my word I won’t go seeking this figure,” she promised.

“Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I have customers to tend.” With that, Modesta flicked her eyes upon the newspaper one final time before turning away. A moment passed before Jack cleared his throat.

“You’re going to go after this figure, aren’t you?”

“Now, Jack, I gave my word, you heard me promise,” Lola reiterated.

“Just…please take Raph with you. I know you are more than capable of handling things on your own, but…if there really is something demonic out there, it’s best if you don’t face it alone.” He gave his friend a comforting squeeze on her shoulder before going to help Modesta with the store. Lola remained silent, thankful of her friends’ concerns, however, the desire to figure out this growing mystery of ghosts and goblins staring back at her from a newspaper headline had her solidifying in her mind what she needed to do in order to properly tell a story.

~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, that Lola. Always getting into trouble.

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 77

Harper arched her back in bliss, it was like life was being breathed into her again after a lifetime of coma, his skin rubbing against hers, it was intoxicating to feel all those muscles on his back flexing and rippling under her fingers, to say she had missed him and that cathedral of a body was an understatement. Hard and throbbing he pushed himself agaist her and there was nothing else she could or wanted to do then open her legs and welcome him back inside her warm body that had been deprived of his love and attention for way too long, “I need you inside of me” she breathed in his ear, he was being considerate with foreplay as always, but the fire was burning out of control already, it was time for the real deal, her head fell back and her mouth formed a silent ‘O’ as he slowly entered her, making her feel like she was going to burst. No matter how many times they had made love in the past, she would never get used to his gigantic size. “You ok?” he held himself up on stretched arms above her, with a mix of lust and concern in his glazed over eyes. Without a word but with a simple grin, she clasped her legs around his waist to urge him to move and push himself further and even deeper inside of her. Jared threw his head in his neck with a blissful groan. It was her whispered “come on big boy, just fuck me real hard and good” that drove him insane and his hips started a hard, slow thrusting that had her completely breathless by the time he sped things up. Slowly she was losing her mind in the best way possible, she lost all control over her speech, all she could utter were moans of painful, yet delightful pleasure, seeing her wriggle underneath him was so intoxicating even if they were doing plain missionary, her hands kneading her breasts, fingers tweaking her nipples, moaning and groaning her way up to a much needed orgasm but that orgasm would have to wait a little, first he was going to destroy that sweet pussy of hers even harder. “I fucking love you so much” he groaned at her, a rush of blood clouding his head, it had been too long, he wasn’t going to last long but it didn’t matter, they could do it again and again and again all through the night and if not tonight then there was always the rest of their lives, because he wasn’t going to let her slip away anymore. His hips pushed harder and faster, the white hot heat building up in his groin with every thrust, Harper was suddenly swept up in a whirlwind of sensations and right after him, she too screamed out her orgasm.

Fifteen minutes later they were still glued to each other, like both their bodies had morphed into one, “don't ever leave me again, I don't wanna be without you, not even for one more second” he breathed against her forehead, being the first to break the silence between them. He could see Harper's faint smile and then she exhaled so deep like she had been waiting a lifetime to exhale and that's when he saw the tears roll down, “hey, hey, what's wrong? Babe?” he cupped her face in his hands “did I say or do something wrong?”. Harper shook her head, “No..it's not you..I don't know what's wrong..” she sniffed through her tears, “you just had so much on your plate..all that pent up stress and tension..” he kissed her wet eyes.  “Just let it go, we're together now and that's all that matters, I'll help you through this, I promise” he pulled her even closer to him, dotting butterfly kisses all over her tear-stained face and his heart jumped when she held on to him and released all the tears she had in her. “I've missed you so much” she breathed, “not as much as I missed you, I was so lost without you” Jared reassured her but she suddenly pulled away from him, with a look that betrayed she didn't believe him “what? What is it?” fear squeezed his throat together. “Steph..you had a call with Steph before..you say you've missed me so much, but you still hooked up with her so soon after..us..oh djeez, now I sound like a jealous bitch” she knew she was being completely irrational but she just could help it. “You have every right to say what you say, you're right, it was the old me that resurfaced after you and I..well after we split up” he kept caressing and kissing her hair to have her relax a bit, he didn't want things to escalate between them, “I'm not that man anymore, that's all I can say”. Harper squinted her eyes “how do I know that? You were that man until..what? 48 hours or so ago?” it was a valid question, “true..but hooking up with Steph was out of..spite..I wasn't myself when you left me..I lost it and fell back into old habits..” he tried to explain but she was having none of it. “Old habits? I don't know if they're really old habits, or just who Jared is? We split up because you cheated remember?” this was not going well, not well at all, “I know..and I also know there's nothing I can say to change your mind, but I'm not gonna fuck things up between us ever again, I swear, just have a little faith..”. He was right, there was nothing he could say to miraculously make his past disappear, she had decided to take the plunge and given in to her feelings for him again, so she would just have to stick with it and start believing in his good intentions. “I think I can do that..” those six little words were all it took to defuse the situation, “good girl..Steph is out of my life, I chose you and I'll always choose you, I let things cloud my vision for the last time, she's a dumb mistake that's in the past, you are everything I need for a bright future” he kissed her bottom lip to erase the tiny pout that formed on there. “Just love me Jared, that's all I can ask, just love me the way only you can” she returned his kiss and soon all the tears were washed away by another round of glorious lovemaking.

”Any news?” Jared came walking out of the bathroom with a towel riding dangerously low on his hips, “no..no news” sighing she put her phone back on the nightstand and got a bit lost in her thoughts again, “no news is good news, right?” he sat down on the bed next to her and rubbed her thigh. “I guess so..I'll call Arno later on” she started to resurface again but she wasn't completely out yet, “so what do you want to do today?” his voice was so soft and tender, “Oh..well, I was thinking of checking in with Charles, even though I still think he's the root to all this evil..you know, bringing my parents here..” she sighed, “I know, but I honestly think that he had everyone's best intentions in mind..he's pretty shook up about everything's that happened..anyway, I'll come with you, we'll face him together, alright?” he tried to kiss her doubts away, but he knew they would only disappear when she faced Charles again and talked things through with him.

He loved walking around New York with her, here he felt he could do it because he could keep a certain kind of anonymity here, NY always kept it real, in sharp contrast to the gossip and glamour of LA, of which he was reminded by the constant buzzing in his pocket from Steph blowing up his phone even after he told her he wanted nothing more to do with her. The wonderful smell of fresh baked bread greeted them as he held the door open for Harper walking into the renowned bakery/coffee bar, “I love this place” he took off his coat and sat down, grabbing her hands, “and I didn't just choose it for its' wonderful breakfast but also for another reason” he grinned and looked out the window pointing “remember?”. Harper followed his gaze and then it dawned on her “Oohhh, the place where we first met..” she swallowed hard in excitement “that was such a weird moment”. Jared sat back grinning “weird and yet so amazing and so..normal, deep in my heart I wasn't surprised to see you turn up, I guess deep down I was really hoping it'd be you”, they were interrupted to place their order, which they did but as soon as the waiter left Harper squeezed his hand. “You were hoping for Coco to show up because you had met Harper first? Or were you feeling guilty somehow that you were going to meet Coco and in the back of your mind you were hoping for Harper?” her difficult question had him frowning and thinking for a second, pondering on his answer “Honestly, I was so fond of you both, I dreaded having to give up one for the other and then I got my prayers answered when Harper Coco showed up, I was so torn, there was Coco who was so intruiging and funny and artistic and mysterious who I was so completely besotted with even though I had never seen her, I knew in the depth of my heart that no matter how she looked, I'd fallen for her hook, line and sinker..and then there was Harper who was equally artistic and genius and completely nuts, fighting off guys twice her size, very high in energy, you were like a fucking loaded gun” his grin became bigger and bigger just talking about her “and then there was the way Harper looked that had my hormones racing, girl, I was so fuckin' jealous of Sean at the time, just the fact that you both were so physically and emotionally close”.

Harper nearly choked on her coffee “Sean and I..close? What a frikkin' nightmare he turned out to be, but it's kinda cute that you were actually jealous!! I didn't know what to make of you really..you constantly blew hot and cold on me” she lathered up a croissant with butter. “Oh really? surely there must have been something you liked about me?” he was fishing for compliments now, even after all this time she hadn't put all of her cards on the table, “I thought you had the cutest bubble butt I had ever seen” she giggled, it was a treat seeing her laugh again. “I agree, that is one of my finest assets” he hiccupped “what else?”, she stopped chewing for a second “apart from the fact that you're incredibly easy on the eye, you were also prepared to be my best friend and you supported my work from day one, that meant and means the world to me, but what I love the most about you is that you're so unconventional, you're quirky and extremely ambitious and driven but you also got the biggest heart, you were always there for me when I needed and need you most”. Every single compliment she was paying him made his heart burst, “you know you may have lost your title, but your true nobility and aristocracy always comes shining through, and then I haven't mentioned your breathtaking beauty yet”. Harper shifted uncomfortably in her seat “ok, ok, enough with the compliments..we've given each other a new chance so let's not try and fuck it up again..shall we start with that?” she pushed a strawberry in her mouth, she always had a hard time dealing with compliments. “Don't say 'fuck' too much, I'm having trouble enough keeping my cool just thinking about everything that we did last night..even you eating that strawberry is almost enough to send me over the edge, I'm getting old” he wiggled in his chair to make his point clear. “Old? You? Oh honey, after two toecurling orgasms, old is not the word that instantly comes to mind” teasing him, she let another strawberry  slip between her plump lips, giggling again like a school girl when she saw him squirm in his seat even more. “Anyway, we're in a public place so let's try and keep our hormones under control” there was a faint smile and a deep sigh as she came back to reality that wasn't exactly shiny and bright for her at the moment. “I wish I could cancel every point on my agenda and just disappear for a while..I just wish I could go back to that carefee time before all this” she took a sip of her hot coffee and stared at the spot where they first met, her eyes glazing over with the memory. Jared grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over it “I totally get that..why don't you come back with me to LA in a few days? We can pack up your stuff at your apartment and have it shipped to LA”. Harper's mouth fell open when he dropped that bomb “What? Wait..LA?” she pulled her hand back, “it's where I live, so yeah that's what I mean, LA is a lot more chill than New York, you'll move in with me and we can hide from the world for a while”. Harper's eyes became saucers “move in..with you?” she whispered in shock, “well yeah, unless you have some secret lover there that I don't know about and were planning to move in with him..of course I want you to move in with me, silly!”.

[2old4kpop]

15 Underrated Girly Kpop Songs That Make Me Go Absolutely Feral

When it comes to girl groups, more than anything I am a Blackjack and Blink. I like to listen to girl songs that make me want to murder men (and believe me, that blog post is in the works). But I’m also a ONCE, as TWICE are my sweet darling babies, but they’re about as girly as I can tolerate. I’m not one for the super girly concepts. I mean, did you guys ever see MINX? Occasionally I ironically jam to Shakey Love Shakey Shakey Shakey Shakey Love, but it was an absolute blessing from the K-pop gods to rebrand them as Dreamcatcher. It’s really only the A-list girly songs I tolerate, like GFriend or Oh My Girl. Everything else below them just seems really cringy.

Except for a few chosen few that are so good that they make me absolutely lose all of my shits. And I’m talking about songs that nobody seems to know like at all. Either these songs came out when the groups were still under the radar, before they had their big smash hits, or they just never seemed to rise to the top. But they are still valid and important. Videos are linked in the song names, since Tumblr won’t let me add more than five videos, but here we go.

15. April- Dream Candy

April is one of those rare groups that pull off the girly concept so well but don’t ever seem forced, like they are just truly naturally sweet and pure and precious. Honestly all of their songs are great, and it’s tragic that they haven’t had a comeback in 2019. But their debut, Dream Candy, is the one that really gets deep in my soul to that animal part of my brain that makes me scream this god damn chorus. But only really at the end. I never really listened to this song until it came on shuffle one day when I was walking home in the rain, and thought, why not listen to this awkward girly song, and then the last chorus hit and OH MY GOD. It’s a good one guys.

14. Momoland- Jjan! Koong! Kwang!

So this song comes out by some unknown group called uh, Momoland?, with a title that is just a bunch of sounds that don’t exist in English, and I felt like I was the only one on Earth that was like, “This is fine.” I was honestly in some I Am Legend universe where instead of me being the only living person on Earth, I was the only one that liked Momoland’s debut. As time went on Momoland started putting out what is pretty much some of the worst K-Pop that exists (I mean, have you SEEN the video for Wonderful Love? Try not to cringe challenge) and sadly enough this group just faded into obscurity and never had any huge, Earth shattering hits or anything. 

13. DIA- My Friend’s Boyfriend

On paper this song is awful. I mean it’s a song about being a petty bitch who has decided to steal their friend’s boyfriend, hence the title. Also the song ads cute little quirks like *squints eyes to read this metaphorical paper closer* coughing. Also the video has an unnecessarily long intro. But believe me when I tell you that this is an absolute slapper.

12. Gugudan- Wonderland

It’s a crime that Gugudan has never really hit it off, even with two I.O.I members. Their debut has this amazing Little Mermaid concept and believe me when I tell you that this chorus is best when screamed at the top of your lungs. After all the screaming I am basically in a manic state by the la la la’s.

11. LOONA 1/3- Love&Live

You’ll notice that the main theme of this list is that the choruses are absolute fire. But this one comes in and basically knocks the wind out of me with sweetness, like some kind of aegyo Kool-Aid man. It’s really the music that does it for me in this one, along with the melody, along with Heejin’s perfect high note. If this song doesn’t make you smile then you are a robot, like ViVi. 

10. Shannon Williams- Why Why

If Ant and/or Dec were here, they would hear this song and definitely say that Britain’s Got Talent. Shannon is the British IU,hands down, undeniably, I will not be taking questions at this time. But it’s very sad that her career was nonexistent after this came out. Was it the fact that this features a sixteen-year-old grinding against faceless boys? Or that this video widely revolves around her intensely stalking someone? It can’t be the song because that is perfect. 

9. AOA- Bingle Bangle

Okay so some history for those non-Elvises out there. AOA was THE HOTTEST girl group for a good minute, with so many timeless collaborations with the Brave Brothers that really changed the shape of female K-Pop for a while. And then ChoA left the group. And without the only member who could actually sing the face of the group, AOA kind of went quiet, save for a few Jimin solo songs. Then AOA came back with a new sound, and while everyone else thought it was terrible, I thought it was a bop! And I love the video and the concept! And the dance for this is so fun. Bingle Bangle is a real yes for me dawg. It’s only too bad that they lost yet another member and their concept was handed off to FNC’s new girl group. Speaking of which...

8. Cherry Bullet- Really Really

Yeah so they literally gave this entire “girls in a video game but it’s fun and cute” concept to Cherry Bullet, and they hit the ground running with it. This comeback in particular is my favorite of theirs because it hits one of my favorite pop music tropes: Having A Funky Instrumental Chorus, Only At The End To Put Words Over The Music. It ticks all my boxes.

7. Rainbow- Whoo

If you ever wanted to hear a song that made you scream “RAAAAIIINBOOW AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” then this is it. At this point in this list we start to hear the songs that make me truly insane, and this song absolutely destroys me. It’s really sad, however, that this is basically Rainbow’s swan song, as it was their last song before disbandment. 

6. Matilda- Macarena

I bet you haven’t even HEARD of Matilda. I bet you didn’t even KNOW that MATILDA just DISBANDED a FEW MONTHS AGO because ALL THEIR SONGS WERE BAD except for THIS ONE which is just full of CHAOTIC GOOD ENERGY and if you don’t ENJOY THIS then GET OFF MY LAWN. 

5. Berry Good- Angel

Berry Good was destined to be one of those girl groups, like Matilda, that came from a tiny company and was just given bad songs and were set up to fail. So they crowdfunded, and somehow made two incredible comebacks, Don’t Believe (which is a whole other story that we won’t get into today, but it’s an amazing song that you should check out) and prior to that, Angel. I don’t even know where to begin with this song because it literally makes me forget who I am and why I exist. It’s a banger?? This song starts off so soft and pure and jumps right into a chorus that makes you bang your head and scream “I TAKE A CHANCE, YOU NEVER KNOW” as loud as possible. And right when you think you can’t take it anymore, that you are gasping for air because you are drowning in perfection, THEY GO EVEN HARDER. Like, girls, you did not need to go that hard. Holy shit. They go full IU in Good Day. I don’t know why we were blessed with this, especially since after this all their other songs have been garbage, and they’ve been so unsuccessful that they lost their strongest member and they’re heading for disbandment. But we have this gem, and I’m thankful for it.

4. 4Minute- Heart To Heart

Back when 4Minute was just another 2NE1 clone, trying to compete in the market of “Girls Who Look Tough But Are Actually Sweet” 4Minute, aka The HyunA Group, put out this. Third Geners, this is what Second Gen was all about. This is the meaning of Christmas, Charlie Brown. This song is everything. It’s perfect. And it’s too bad that 4Minute didn’t really stick with this sound, but also not, since with their more mature concept they wound up getting pretty famous once Park Bom... I mean, we’re not gonna talk about it. 

3. Hyolyn- Bae

Okay so I know that Hyolyn as an entity is not technically considered underrated, but her entire solo career is being slept on and I don’t understand. With Sistar gone, and now Red Velvet carrying the torch for summer anthems, Hyolyn doesn’t necessarily have to give us one of the best summer songs of all time but she did. Every second of this song to me is perfect. And yeah okay I’ll admit it, I am a Gay, I am attracted to women, and Hyolyn is a lot of. A lot of wow. She and HyunA are exactly my type, and this video is a lot. But the SONG you guys. It’s so much that I told even regular people who listen to English music to listen to this song. They didn’t, of course, because the world doesn’t appreciate Hyolyn like I would, I mean like I do as a fan and nothing else. This song was my summer anthem in 2018, Power Up wishes it was this good.

2. BESTie- Thank U Very Much

One of the things that really got me into K-Pop during the Second Gen was that it sounded so much like pop music from my youth. This is gonna sound weird, but I grew up in a Wiccan Neo-Pagan household where 90% of the music we listened to was traditional Celtic or New Age, and if it was ever anything else it was like The Beatles (my Mom and her sisters were one of those screaming and fainting Beatles fans, the trait that was clearly passed down to me, based on what happened when I saw G-Dragon live, but that’s another story) or ABBA, or any kind of British/European pop/rock from the 70s or 80s. So once I was old enough to really find out what kind of music I liked, I dived deep into cheesy pop songs like S Club 7, Britney Spears, and the like. But I always had a soft spot for ABBA. The melodies, the music, the strange lyrics that didn’t really make sense or weren’t quite grammatically correct but it worked. I feel like that love for obscure pop, along with the 90s and early 2000s bubblegum pop, pushed me right into the K-Pop scene. And this song is the best example of that kind of weird melody with oddly used English words, but it works in the best way. The chorus of this song sounds like it was written by ABBA. The ending of this song is transcendent. Tell me you can’t picture a Korean Meryl Streep in overalls singing the ending of this song while dancing on a beach. This song makes me lose all my shits. But I do have to say that this video is uh, Not Good, especially compared with how amazing the song is. But these underrated bottom of the barrel groups don’t have much to work with in the first place, so we can’t really fault them. This song holds up, and is going to hold up for a very long time. I stan.

1. Laboum- Shooting Love

So like I said before, I don’t typically like the super sugary, super tacky, super girly girl concepts. BUT I LOVE LABOUM. ALL their girly sweet songs are AMAZING. They somehow get everything right, in their own unique way. They’re not at all like “Oh, they’re like GFriend”, “Oh, that’s like Lovelyz” or anything, if you get what I’m saying. Laboum had their own cheesy yet perfect style of girly. Aalow Aalow: A CLASSIC. Journey To Atlantis: A CLASSIC. Hwi Hwi: A CLASSIC. Only U: YES YOU GUESS IT, CLASSIC. Sugar Sugar: DON’T MAKE ME SAY IT AGAIN. I could have made this whole list with just Laboum songs. So I made myself pick one by listening to as many old Laboum songs as I could before I would become an absolutely menace to society, as I am not responsible for my actions after listening to so much girly perfectlon at once. If I was arrested and went to court for I dunno, causing distress and mayhem to the citizens of my city, my lawyer would call it “the Laboum defense.” “You see, Your Honor, my client listened to a lot of Laboum songs, and lost control of themselves and became an entity, a ball of energy, a comet destroying everything in its path while screaming cheesy Korean lyrics.” And I would be set free, of course, because who wouldn’t lose themselves completely to the power of Laboum? But anyway I picked Shooting Love, as it puts me in a manic state from the very intro until the last second. And let me just say now that I deeply mourn this old Laboum, as they came back in 2018 with a new concept that makes them sound lobotomized compared to their old sound. Like slow R&B is fine, but compared to this it’s drab and slow and dull and I hate it. I Hate It. Bring back cute Laboum in 2020, or at least study Apink if you want to see how to properly change an aging cute group into a mature group. I could go on, but now I have the urge to listen to more Laboum. You’ll see me on the evening news tonight, I’m sure.

anyway 안녕

[myaekingheart]

85. The Not-Date Date

               Milk. Eggs. Bread. Vegetables. Kakashi skimmed the list as he strolled up and down the aisles, but he wasn’t really paying attention. Grocery shopping just gave him something to do, a mundane task to occupy his mind. It wasn’t working.

               His mental capacity was, quite frankly, nearing intolerable. He found some respite on his most recent mission, but only because it kept him fully engaged. Now that he was back to the daily grind, however, nothing seemed to keep him focused.

               A few days after his initial visit, Tenzo returned to inform that things had gone well and that he had a date. It was clear how pleased he was with the results, and Kakashi tried hard not to put a damper on his success. Deep down, however, delving into relationship dynamics only ignited a flame in Kakashi’s mind that he absolutely could not manage to extinguish. He saw her every time he closed his eyes: that fiery hair, mossy eyes, crooked smile, freckled shoulders. His arms ached to embrace her, something raw and hungry bubbling up within his chest. He wanted her. He needed her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Rei.

               And just like that, in the middle of the juice aisle, it happened. First there came a thud, then the pattering of small particles bouncing against the ground. And then her voice. “Fuck!” His heart leapt into his chest and without a second thought, he slid around the corner to find her standing there with a large bag of dog food spilling onto the ground.

               “Are you okay?” he asked, blinking despondently. Much like everything else lately, this didn’t seem real. It didn’t make sense. It was like his mind had fabricated a completely unlikely scenario from pieces of unrelated information plucked from all the mental nooks and crannies.

               Huffing, she knelt down and began hopelessly trying to sweep the food back into the sack with her hands. “Do I look okay?” she asked, rather sharply, and for a moment Kakashi thought perhaps she was unaware that it was him standing before her and not a stranger. She did not look up.

               Kakashi looked around for a moment before kneeling down and attempting to help her, even if she probably didn’t want it. So much for her independence. “How did this happen, anyway?” he asked.

               “How do you think?” she snapped back. “The damn bag’s too fucking heavy. Lost my grip and it went everywhere.”

               He couldn’t help but find the whole situation rather comical. The bag, from what he could tell, was almost the same size she was, and it probably weighed twice as much. By the time they got most of the food off the floor, an employee—a young, pimply kid with spaghetti limbs and a potential nasal infection—peered down the aisle with a broom in hand. He idled for a moment when he saw the mess had since been taken care of, then scurried back to his post mildly embarrassed.

               Kakashi took it upon himself to lift the sack for her, and she did not protest. She merely reached up on tiptoes to try to tie the bag shut where it had burst open. She shuffled alongside him as he approached the checkout counter and set the bag down. “What are you doing with a big bag of dog food like this, anyway?” he asked. She dug around inside her back pouch for her wallet but was evidently taking too long. The cashier, a snotty woman impatient for god only knew what—it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go—rolled her eyes and began tapping her long, manicured nails against the counter. Her skin was taut and tan like leather and her lips were glossed so that the lights overhead reflected off her frustrated pout. Kakashi rested a hand atop Rei’s as he pulled out his own wallet and handed the woman the appropriate amount of cash.

               Dumbfounded, Rei froze for a moment with mouth agape before forcing herself to regroup. “I have a dog now” she replied matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up. “I have a dog and he needs food.”

               “Oh?” Kakashi asked, smirking at her beneath his mask. “Are you sure it’s a dog? Or a bear?” He tapped the large bag of food and chuckled.

               Rei grimaced and shook her head. “He’s most definitely a dog” she insisted. “His name is Toshio and he’s very smart, you would be proud.”

               The cashier handed Kakashi his receipt and did not wish them a good afternoon. Kakashi lifted the bag up over his shoulder and, as they exited, asked, “Where is this dog, then? I’d like to see him.”

               As they stepped out into the sunlight, blinding for this time of day, Rei pointed to a large white blur romping with some children across the street. “Right there” she stated. She whistled sharply and the dog immediately snapped his head up, spotted tongue lopping out of the side of his mouth, then came barreling toward her. She knelt down and let him knock her over, licking her face obsessively with his paws firmly on her shoulders. The interaction was far too sweet, Kakashi couldn’t help but smile.

               “Seems like he likes you a lot” he stated. The moment he spoke, Toshio paused and then approached cautiously, sniffing around Kakashi’s feet and at his hands. After a few moments, he pounced into a protective stance and snarled.

               “Hey, Toshio! Bad!” Rei scolded, sitting up and thwacking him on the behind. “That’s Kakashi. He’s good! We like him!”

               Rather than feel offended, Kakashi couldn’t help but feel amused and perhaps a little relieved. “I bet he makes a good guard dog” he said. He extended a hand for Toshio to sniff, an invitation that he was friendly, but the dog remained skeptical.

               “He used to be a ninja hound” Rei replied, tugging Toshio nearer and scratching around his fat, fluffy neck. “That is until his master, uh…well, he was KIA.” Her tone turned somber as she looked upon this beast with a little more softness and sympathy than before. Kakashi swallowed, his heart breaking. As a dog owner himself, the thought of dying on duty and leaving his ninken behind terrified him. The certain trauma this dog endured was validation enough for his skepticism and aggression.

               “I’m glad you two found each other” Kakashi then said, his voice soft and perhaps even affectionate. “It makes me happy to know you’re not alone now.” And truly it did. Regardless of whether this dog trusted him, he trusted this dog. Toshio was potentially exactly what she needed—a companion he could be sure would take care of her. He watched her for a moment longer, his heart swelling, before asking rather suddenly, “Are you doing anything today?”

               Rei blinked, snapping from her dog-drunk daze, before squinting up at him and shaking her head. From down there, backlit by the sun, he looked almost heavenly. “Not particularly” she replied. “Why?”

               “Do you want to go do something together?” he asked. “I can bring the dogs. Toshio can make friends. I think he’d like that.”

               Rei considered the offer for a moment, chewing her lower lip, before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, we can do that” she said. She lifted herself to her feet and rested a hand atop Toshio’s head—he came up to about her hips—before a sudden realization struck her. “Wait a second, didn’t you have groceries? Where’s your stuff?”

               Kakashi paused, having completely forgotten about his own shopping in the midst of finding her. He chuckled then and shook his head. “I’ll come back for it” he said, then motioned for her to walk alongside him as he carried the dog food back to her apartment.

               Watching Toshio interact with other dogs was quite honestly a heartwarming experience. It had only been a week since Rei adopted him as her own and yet this was the first time he had a chance to spend time with his own kind. For all she knew, it may have even been the first time since the accident. Kakashi summoned all of his ninken, who looked prepared to aide in whatever battle they may have been called for. Their faces relaxed, however, when Kakashi instructed them to instead run around and have a good time, to make friends with Toshio, and overall just relax. Pakkun nodded once in understanding and then he and his pack began introducing themselves one by one in their own special canine way.

               As the afternoon progressed, Kakashi and Rei seated themselves on a bench in the park as they watched the dogs romp and run around. Dead leaves cascaded on a light breeze and the sun was warm and bright. The whole of Konoha was bathed in that autumnal glow where everything appears as if on fire and the air somehow always smells like spice. It had been a long while since Rei felt this happy and peaceful. “I’m glad to see they’re getting along so well” she smiled, watching as Toshio spun in circles and chased Bull and Bisuke.

               Kakashi nodded, his arm itching to wrap around her shoulders. When he looked at her, he couldn’t help but think that autumn was where she belonged. This was the time of year that she fit snugly into like a puzzle piece. The world in fall just complimented her so well and he could feel his entire body igniting with this genuine, overwhelming sense of adoration for her. Sitting beside her here like this, he felt at home. “Me, too” he replied, voice quiet and perhaps mildly preoccupied.

               She glanced at him then and saw in his eyes that certain loving, consuming quality that immediately gave him away. Her heart leapt into her throat at the implications, and she suddenly grew anxious that she had walked right into a trap. Was this a date? Or at least supposed to be? She didn’t know. But what if it was? What would this mean for them? And the greatest question of all: did she even want to fight it? She clenched her fist atop her thigh and tried to calm herself down. To reassure herself that everything was fine. She was with Kakashi. So long as he was with her, everything would be just fine.

               He walked her home and as they reached her apartment door, a sense of longing and desperation suddenly overwhelmed her. Perhaps she didn’t want to say goodbye—not yet. Perhaps the tiniest taste of what they could be, of reuniting officially, had left her starving for the whole damn meal. She didn’t want to want it, but maybe now she didn’t actually care. She was tired—she was so, so tired. The past year had slaughtered her mentally, emotionally, even physically. She had cursed herself so many times, spent every moment running from fate, torturing herself time and time again. She looked at him and he looked back at her and she felt in her body that hot reverberation that she knew would make her do something reckless if she didn’t leave right this minute.

               “I’m glad we did this” Kakashi said, smiling at her. He kept the same distance between them and yet Rei swore she could feel him creeping nearer. Her lips twitched.

               “Yeah” she said quietly, averting her eyes. “I had a really good time.”

               “Me too” he said. “In a way, it almost felt like—”

               “Yeah” she interrupted. “I know.” She didn’t think she could bear to hear him say it. She was too vulnerable. If she let him finish, she knew she was bound to collapse into his arms and end this hiatus once and for all. She could not afford to make such hasty decisions. She smiled up at him politely for a moment, resting her hand on the doorknob, then bid him a brief goodbye. He said goodbye back and she disappeared, and then it was just him and all eight of his dogs alone in the hallway.

               Once inside, Rei hastily locked the door as if Kakashi was prone to walking into unlocked apartments, then turned on her heels and fell face first into bed with an animalistic groan. She needed to get out of here. She needed a shower and isolation. She needed to strip her skin off of her body and jump out the window, colliding with the ground below. What was she going to do? What was she supposed to do? This was all so much. If she closed her eyes and focused on it long enough, she could almost feel Kakashi’s phantom touch on her forearm, steady breath on the back of her neck, soft lips pressed against hers. She writhed in frustration and buried her head beneath her pillows, kicking the blanket off the bed. Everything would be so much easier if I was just numb.

               Meanwhile, Toshio lumbered forward and rested his head on the edge of the bed. When Rei turned, his face was mere inches away from her own. He huffed in her face with his hot, stinky breath before scooting nearer so as to lick her like he always did. It was fascinating how somehow he always knew, as if her emotional imbalances were connected with his own sensory capabilities. She had never known the companionship of a dog like this before but it was a welcome relief. While the past was haunting and the future made her nauseous, at least she had this: this present moment. This strange beast by her side, always there for her no matter what. Her and Toshio had not been together for long, but she already could not imagine her life without him. And maybe that was the first step. Maybe accepting him into her life, accepting the way he took care of her, was a sign that she was prepared to let herself be loved again. That she was prepared for companionship and commitment and affection. Her mind filtered through all the memories of that afternoon, of the way she felt standing so close to Kakashi once again, and it was suddenly as if she was standing on the highest diving board at the community pool. She looked down at the depths below, that rising feeling overwhelming her chest as she stood on the verge of making a decision. The thought of making that leap was truly paralyzing. She wasn’t sure she had it in her. Perhaps her only choice was to wait it out for a little while longer until the confidence, or the horror, swayed her one way or the other. To live a life drowning in fear was no way to live at all, but life was also a patchwork of many different moments and she could afford to spare a few more trapped in emotional limbo. Sighing, Rei reached out and tangled her fingers in Toshio’s thick coat. He leapt onto his hind legs, nuzzling her face and lapping at her cheeks in an act of unspoken comfort. Rei smiled, knowing it truly helped.

[strivingscribe]

ILIC ~ CH 28

Happy Valentine's Day :)It’s Lost Its Charm by  MsMoon

Chapter 28 ~ Finally Plugged In

Chapters: 28/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15,16, 17, 18,19,20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28,

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age,

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence,

Relationships: I feel like it’s a little early for that…

Summary: As dreams went, she supposed being inside Dragon Age wasn’t too bad… At least she wasn’t the Herald (again). Or the Warden (again). Or Hawke (again).

Notes: Hope you guys enjoy this one :)

Amy breathed. Slow and deep as she stared down at the peer post. It was so hard to believe so much had happened so quickly. In the dawning light, it seemed so harmless.

 Heavy footfalls drew her attention to her far right. A very familiar silhouette was emerging from the mist there. When the Iron Bull’s eye landed on her...her stomach sunk.

 “Bull?” her voice was reedy and rusted. Reasonably so after… whatever had happened yesterday. She took a single step back.

 The Iron Bull began to jog towards her.

 No… not jog. Charge.

 “Katoh.” she said, her voice soft, his approaching charge steamrolled over it. “Katoh, Hissrad.” a plea.

 She couldn't imagine a reply from the Qun would come so quickly. There was no way they’d already decided to eliminate her…

 She turned to survey her surroundings better… only to freeze.

 It was dawn. Still. No one was out here. It wasn't as if everyone in Haven needed to be milling about every day at dawn, but no one?

 When she looked back to Bull, the space between them was farther than it had been before.

 He was still running. She had not moved from her spot by the docks. Yet he was farther away. And the sun was still just cresting the horizon.

 Still.

 Everything was… Still.

 She turned to face him fully, planting her feet and squaring her shoulders.

 “I. Said. Stop.” Her voice was loud, echoing through the valley though she hadn’t raised her voice. His pace slowed, more of a purposeful saunter now, and within scant seconds he stopped three paces from her.

 It didn’t make any sense! ...it was like…

 Her eyes doubled in size.

 “Holy frothing frogs, I’m in the Fade.” she said.

 The Iron Bull that was most certainly not The Iron Bull smiled at her. It was… unsettling. A familiar expression in a familiar face that somehow... was anything except familiar.

 “What are you?” She demanded.

 “Long have I circled around you, always from my side of the veil.” The Bull’s voice, but in Fade-Acoustics, so it sounded distant-echoey-and-yet-near. “From others around you, I see you. But never you… like learning to look for an absence. And I know you.”

 Amy tried to stamp down her fear response, but it wasn’t easy. Every time she tried a breathing exercise she’d get caught up in the fact that she didn’t need to breathe. She literally had astral projected out of her body for this genuine Theadosian experience. She didn’t have lungs!

 But her brain thought she did.

 ...it was the weirdest ‘The Matrix has you’ situation… at least thus far.

 “Name yourself.” She commanded. She refused to call it a demon. If spirits were or could be as malleable as Solas suggested, she needed to keep a clear head.

 “I am Confrontation.”

 Oh.

 Wait.

 ...what?

 Was she…?

 …..okay, yes.

 She huffed out an astral-breath. “Seriously.” She couldn’t help the solitary chuckle that plopped out. “My first trip to the fade, first spirit I see...is Confrontation.”

 Their eye narrowed. “You do not allow excuses to stop you. You refuse to be intimidated. You act in spite of opposition. And you bring others together and force them to face what is between them.” They nodded, seemingly satisfied with their assessment.

 “Gawhd.” Amy grunted. “I am in the Fade.”

 “Yes and no.” The spirit said. “This is more… hm.” They tilted their head. “It is difficult to explain.”

 “It’s like a pocket dimension.” Siheta’s voice startled Amy, making her nearly jump away from the dock.

 Siheta squatted, perched atop the dock in an easy crouch, as though she’d always been there. Her entrance felt a lot like she’d somehow figured out how to be Batman in spite of all this brightness.

 “How?” Amy asked as the Kossith hopped down.

 “You’re technically still not quite in the Fade.”

 Amy’s eyes boggled.

 “So...So, I’m dreaming and there’s a spirit,” so motioned to the Iron Confrontation. “And a dreamer is here,” and she motioned to Siheta. “And yet, I’m still not in the Fade?” Siheta smiled at her indignation.

 “You’re dreaming the way you normally did before your crossing. You didn’t need the Fade there, did you?”

 Amy sighed, drooping. Of course Siheta was right. She knew she was right.

 “No.” she droned.

 “Well, whatever happened in your crossing that sealed up your magic...it’s…” she shook her head. “It's safe to say that Sam’s mark broke through it. So now your magic is ...loose. It touches the veil in a way that we don’t.”

 “Reaching out to you was not easy.” Confrontation added. “Even for those who have no magic, I can easily visit them. This required… effort.”

 Amy looked between them, worry puckering her brow. “You’re...you’re not trapped here?”

 “No.” Siheta assured. “Surprised at this turn of events, and smug that Solas hasn’t found his way here. But not trapped.”

 “I am not trapped either.” Confrontation assured. “Only this contact required effort.”

 Amy nodded, relief filtering through her. “Do you think Solas will show up here?”

 “As soon as he figures out how, I imagine so.” Siheta grinned. “I’ve learned how to listen for you. And we’ve all been rather preoccupied since you fainted.”

 “I fainted?” Amy demanded, appalled.

 “Right into Commander Cullen’s burly arms.” Siheta whispered, as though it were some secret to cherish always, her hands coming up to rest against her heart.

 “Let’s just keep that between ourselves, shall we?” Amy grumbled, face flattening at Siheta's antics.

 The woman's eyes widened expressively. “I’d love to, but Varric was nearby so…”

 “Fantastic.” Amy spat, the word sour in her mouth.

 Siheta smirked. “Had Cullen and Sam tripping all over themselves.” She muttered, shaking her head. “It was a sight.”

 “They enjoy controlling the dance.” Confrontation grumbled. “Being coy, fainting right and left to avoid what they imagine to be unpleasant.” They grinned at her. “Even incapacitated, you deny them that.”

 “Alright.” Amy murmured, having enough of whatever that was.

 “You could probably change this you know.” Siheta said, gesturing to their surroundings. Confrontation glared from the corner of their eye. Probably recognizing the diversionary tactic, and not appreciating it.

 “I uh… I’ll just learn to crawl before I run.”

 “Amy it’s you. Your head, your power, your dream.” Siheta soothed, her purple eyes kind and filled with delight. “I know, technically you aren’t a dreamer, but very few non-mages have the ability to control their dreams.”

 “I know I could try it, but I’d just...rather not.”Amy said, sighing down at the ice. “At this point… I’m liable to make it look like home, and that’ll only make me more heartsick.” Siheta nodded her understanding.

 “Because of your mother.” Confrontation blurted out.

 Amy crossed her arms. “Yes. I miss my mother.” her voice a challenge.

 “You aren’t upset because you miss her. You’re upset because you feel guilty and cheated, because you never told her that she is the measure by which you judge all women. Including yourself.”

 Amy’s expression darkened. “I will punch you in your not real face if you don’t back off.” she said plainly.

 Confrontation relaxed back onto their back foot. “Even when you wish to retreat, it isn’t without demanding it.” The admiration in that statement did not go unnoticed... Only, Amy wondered if that was necessarily the best thing to focus on. Was she unbearably relentless?

 “I suppose you aren’t wrong.” Siheta decided with a smirk, and Amy could only pretend to glare for so long before just letting it go. “Would you like a change of topic?”

 “Please?”

 “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 Amy took in a breath, letting it out slow as she tried to remember. “The doors of the chantry.”

 “That tracks…” Siheta murmured. “But is this.. I mean…” She squinted, trying to figure out how to articulate her question. “This is your first dream?”

 “Uh. Yeah.”

 Siheta’s eyebrows rose. “I went to sleep a couple of hours ago, and you fainted not long after lunch.”

 Amy’s brow puckered, not sure what that meant.

 “Navigating the Dreaming isn’t easy…” Siheta shrugged as though she were trying to dismiss whatever she’d started. "You'll learn. I have faith."

 “How…” Amy stopped herself, unsure of how to phrase any question as so many were demanding answers. “Ok.” She wet her lips. “How can we make it easier for Solas to get here?”

 Siheta pursed her lips. “It makes sense that if the Dreaming and parts of it can enter your sphere… parts of your sphere could enter the Dreaming.”

 “Uhhh…”

 “I’m just thinking out loud here.” Siheta assured. “For me to get here, it was a combination of listening and feeling. Traversing here isn’t difficult when one can open portals… But could you open your own portals?” she squinted. “I don’t know. Theoretically, the answer should be yes...”

 “The Fade strikes me as the sort of place one shouldn’t stumble about in.” Amy murmured.

 “Such things haven’t stopped you before.”Confrontation reminded. Siheta sucked a breath between her teeth.

 “You know the more I know you, the less I enjoy you.”Amy grumbled. Confrontation’s only response was one of those ‘I-call-it-as-I-see-it’ shrugs.

 Siheta was still smirking at this interplay, but it wasn’t an unkind sort of smirk. Amy cleared her throat in hopes of clearing the air.

 “Are you certain you want to try getting Solas here? Siheta asked.

 Amy took a breath. “You really dislike him.” The statement was an observation, of course, but it was also a call for validation.

 “I dislike how I feel about him.” Siheta refuted. Amy’s eyes sharpened. She wasn’t necessarily surprised to hear Siheta speak openly about feelings. She wasn’t typically the sort to cage herself, after all. “What?”

 “Just...that turn of phrase. It’s peculiar to me.”

 Siheta nodded. “Solas is intelligent and intuitive. He’s also much older than he seems, and that comes with a vast deal of knowledge. I respect him even when I resent him, and I don’t like that.” she shrugged. “He’s also...well, dangerous obviously. Anyone that powerful who can remain undetected is... But, there’s something shifty about him. In this world of ours, I understand wanting to remain as unremarkable as possible...but it goes beyond that with him. That makes me most uneasy. You don't do that unless you legitimately have a reason to hide.” Amy nodded that she understood, and Siheta seemed to relax. As though she’d been waiting to defend herself. “I’m not the only one who thinks it even if others don’t articulate it.”

 “Magpie?”

 “Magpie.” Siheta confirmed. “And Varic. And Bull to some extent.”

 “Ben Hass-hole.”

 “Quite.” Siheta surveyed their surroundings. “But even they’re beginning to relax around him.”

 “Hm.” Amy murmured. “Without revealing too much… I don't think it’s a bad idea to be mindful of Solas. At the same time.. I’d much rather keep him close. Even at the expense of my own feelings. Because…” she shook her head. “He isn’t an automaton. He has valid thoughts and feelings. And if he's close to us, and we form strong bonds and feelings with him, there’s a chance he’ll form bonds and feelings for us as well.” she shrugged, mouth scrunching to the side. “Doesn’t mean a break won't hurt, but he’ll have all that to inform him as he moves away from us.”

 Siheta’s expression was flat, grim. “Risky.” she announced before heaving a lonesome breath. “But worthy.” she finally determined with a nod.

 “So…”

 “Right.” Siheta took a fortifying breath. “How to invite the old sage in.” she eyed their surroundings till her eyes landed on Confrontation. The spirit had gone quiet during their discourse.

 ...and Amy wondered for a second how much of their presence was influencing all of this abject honesty.

 “How is this affecting you?” Siheta asked, and Amy blinked, her eyes darting between Siheta and Confrontation… it was only then Amy realized that Siheta was addressing the spirit..and Amy suddenly grew concerned.

 “Well enough.” Confrontation pronounced, nodding towards Amy. “This one is very concerned with keeping to herself… odd, as this space is herself.” They blinked, looking up and then around. “Honestly… I expected some friction.”

 Siheta nodded, her gauging gaze assessing Amy anew. “Commendable.”

 “Oi.” Amy grunted. “I’m right here.”

 Siheta chuckled, taking a long moment to corral her thoughts. “So… just so we’re all on the same page now. People in Thedas live in a physical world that is next to and within a realm of Dreaming that they call the Fade. It's seperated from them only by a very flimsy barrier they call the Veil. Mages have a stronger connection to that Dreaming and use its energy to manifest effects in the physical world. To be clear, everyone lives with the Dreaming overlapping them.”

 “Mages are just aware of it and connected to it.”

 “Right.” Siheta confirmed. “When you arrived here, you didn’t connect and the Dreaming didn’t touch you.”

 “So… I was like a vacuum?”

 Siheta nodded. “A void, yes. But as time passed, I realized it wasn’t so. The Dreaming adjusted itself around you, seeping in where it could… the physical realm, of course. The rest of you, your soul, it was encased in a shell, like an egg. But I could focus on you and feel you in a similar fashion to others.” She took a deep breath. “It took pointed focus to skim that eggshell of yours, but it was possible.”

 “Like a needle on an old-fashioned record player.”Amy mumbled to herself.

 “If it helps the explanation, why not?” Siheta said with a shrug. “I observed many things about your unique condition, and the more often I pressed in on that shell…”

 “The better you got at understanding?”

 Siheta winced, suddenly contrite. “Yes...but that wasn’t without consequence. You began to sing more and more, and it became clearer that your magic manifested through your song. And as you used your gifts, they became stronger. Whether that was from, natural practice or my interference… I don’t know.”

 Amy hesitated, uncertain. “...Your..?” How did Siheta ‘interfere’ exactly?

 “You mentioned a needle...well, my attempts to connect through your barrier isn’t unlike pressing a glass against a door… or… a needle through the wood to peek inside. And once there were cracks, parts of your magic cloud leak out...and parts of the Dreaming could leak in.” Amy stared at her, both shocked and something…a feeling she couldn’t quite name. There was fear, and she felt small and yet amazed at the same time. It was like… seeing a storm coming, and worrying that your house might not stand against it. “There’s no way to test if that process weakened the barrier, because it’s gone now.”

 Amy swallowed thickly. “...the explosion?”

 Siheta nodded. “The shell is gone. Now, it’s more of a...thin gooey barrier…”

 “Semipermeable membrane.”

 Siheta’s eyebrows nose and she nodded slow. “Semi-Permeable… a good name for it. Things don’t just float out or drift in, but it’s much easier.” Siheta smirked. “Like your own personal veil.” She sighed, softly. “That being said, you still aren't like other mages. That will make this instruction challenging. Not impossible… just difficult.”

 Amy nodded, the shock so thick she couldn’t feel crestfallen.

 “It will be difficult to invite Solas here, because it’s something that can be done, but it’s advanced. Also... I know how I would do it, but I don't entirely know what would work for you.” Siheta explained. “Instead, I think I should instruct you in the basics first. It will provide you with a better foundation to build on, and you would be safer.

 Amy nodded. It felt like a bit of a let-down, but it made sense.

 “Besides, once Solas is here, I doubt he’ll be interested in the basics.”

 Amy smirked. “You think he’d disregard that?”

 Siheta shrugged. “Solas can get rather caught up in forgetting that everyone isn’t like him, and that such things are normal. He’s like a qunari that way, confused how a woman can fight or a mage could be in command.” she sighed. “A fish can teach a bird to swim, so long as it remembers that they’re different animals and maintains respect for that simple fact.”

 Amy chuckled softly. “The simple often confounds the wise.” She relented, relaxing as she resigned herself to Siheta’s basic instruction. “All right. Teach me.” she said, newly determined.

Happy Valentine's Day :)

[webcricket]

Catch a Falling Star

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam and Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1936 (Epilogue)

A/N: The epilogue to a Soulmate AU mini-series. I live and breathe for fluffy happy endings.

Summary: What if angels didn’t end up just anywhere when they are banished by sigils…what if sometimes they end up exactly where they need to be? Turns out you are Castiel’s grounding stone, and it’s more complicated than either of you realizes. Happily, the universe and Dean Winchester are as fond of second chances as they are of a long-suffering blue-eyed seraph.

Completed series Masterlist:

webcricket.tumblr.com/post/165166387163/catch-a-falling-star-masterlist

Sam blinked strained eyes over the screen of his laptop to fire a consternate gaze at his brother seated opposite. Dean wasn’t doing anything annoying per say. In the past hour, he’d uttered no weird observations, embarked on no pointless tirades, lobbed no undeserved fraternal insults, and engaged in no repetitive irritating clicking, tapping, or drumming noises. He hadn’t even mentioned being hungry, and Sam was fairly certain he heard the distinct rumble of an empty stomach once or twice in the eerie silence. This unusual well-mannered behavior on Dean’s part, was, in and of itself, exquisitely maddening and Sam had reached the breaking point of brotherly tolerance. “Stop it!” he breathily commanded.

“What?” Dean abruptly ceased his pursuit of doing nothing at all to respond, startled, to Sam’s unprovoked demand.

“That!” Sam answered. “Thinking. Stop it.”

“It’s just, I can’t believe we let Crowley walk after what he did to Cas,” Dean freed the persistently nagging thought from the confines of his skull.

“I know, but it was Cas’ call. And he made a valid point. The devil you know…”

“Yeah, yeah, is worth two in the bush,” Dean blustered.

“That’s not how the saying goes,” Sam’s lip twisted in amusement. “A bird in the hand…”

“Enough with the damn birds already!” Dean groused. His green eyes glazed somberly, “You really think Cas doesn’t remember anything? I mean, when he called he didn’t ask about the missing chunk of time when he was with her. It’s like he doesn’t know it’s gone.”

“I guess that’s how the reversal of the spell works,” Sam murmured, “clean slate.”

“She was good for him, you know,” Dean stated.

Sam nodded agreement.

“I can’t believe a connection like that just ends,” Dean continued, reflecting on the dull anguish that dogged in his own heart any time something reminded him of his stint at normal with Lisa. Letting Lisa go, that had been Dean’s choice to protect her and Ben. But you and Cas, you were given no real choice – you were fatefully thrust into each other’s lives by a demon’s spell and cruelly torn asunder to protect the world from an unspeakable struggle for power like some unfeeling puppeteer’s playthings.

“It’s not fair,” Sam observed with a frown, the memory of Jess misting his vision, “but then nothing about this life we lead is.”

The metallic clang of the bunker door lock disengaging heralded their friend’s homecoming.

“Speak of the angel,” Dean cleared his throat roughly, cautioning a return to silence on the matter.

“Hey Cas!” Sam wore a welcoming smile.

Cas disregarded Sam’s warm greeting, plodding heavily down the stairs.

“What’s up buddy?” Dean tried.

The ceiling, the sky, sea levels, neighborhood crime rates, the S&P 500 – Dean would have preferred any of these answers over the solemn shrug of the seraph’s shoulders he received.

As he trudged through the library, Cas delivered a plastic grocery bag into Sam’s lap. Shunning the available chairs at the table where the brothers sat, the angel sank heavily into the leather lounge nestled out of the way in the alcove of shelves.

Sam reached into the rustling bag, confusion distorting his features as he pulled out a single roll of Charmin brand extra soft toilet paper. “Uh, thanks?” he slurred, lifting a bewildered brow at Dean.

Waving a dismissive hand, Dean aped complete ignorance. “How was New Jersey?” he flashed an affable grin at the angel.

“The solid waste incineration facility there was delightfully efficient,” Cas replied in a sarcastic disinterested monotone. “The operations manager in particular was very kind in permitting me a so-called one-time pass for stealing a ride on his transport barge. According to him, people have been arrested over far less serious crimes against humanity’s rubbish and I should consider myself extremely lucky.” The stern set of his jaw hinted at his preference not to be harassed further by the mundanity of small talk.

An awkward hush descended on the room.

Sam returned to his research.

Cas morosely folded inward on himself, haunted by that hollow unidentifiable aching void afflicting his celestial heart.

And Dean, Dean decided he had had enough. Clapping his hands sharply upon the table for emphasis and to signify the degree of his doneness, he rose, announcing, “Enough! That’s it! I’m done!”

Sam flinched at the sudden reversal of conduct, lanky legs kicking out in all directions under the table to slide his chair backward several squealing inches. He reflexively slammed the cover of the laptop shut.

Cas glanced up indifferently, met Sam’s stunned gaping mien and squinted one eye in a manner inaudibly inquiring as to whether or not he should be alarmed by Dean’s outburst.

Sam’s lips flared over his clenched teeth suggesting, in answer, that he had absolutely no idea but the odds hovered around 50/50.

“Do you hear me?” Dean boomed, shaking a fist at the ceiling.

“Kind of hard not to when you’re yelling and we’re sitting right here,” Sam griped.

“I’m done! Done with the universe dicking us around. Dammit all, and damn Crowley to Hell!” Dean sucked in a deep breath and pointed a cautioning finger at Sam, “And I know that’s a totally redundant statement, so shut your pie-hole smarty pants.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam held up an outstretched palm endeavoring to reason with his brother, “just sit down and relax and we’ll talk it out.”

“That’s just it, I’m done relaxing. Done talking. Done accepting the crap shoveled our way. Why shouldn’t Cas get the chance to screw up his happy ending all on his own like the rest of us? After all the sacrifice, one of us deserves a fighting chance. And maybe it’s the angel.”

Cas’ sad blue eyes settled attentively on the universe railing Winchester.

“Come on,” Dean rounded the table to grab the brooding angel by the coat sleeve and haul him to his feet, “you’re going on vacation. And don’t give me some snarky line about how angels don’t take vacations.”

Cas shook free of Dean’s boorish grip, smoothed his rumpled sleeve, and unassumingly asked, “Where?”

“To get back something very important you lost.”

Cas exhaled the shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in since the moment you banished him.

The hammock, peacefully slung in the dappled shade between two cottonwoods by the lakeshore, rocked subtly as you dozed in the late afternoon heat lulled by the cheery twittering song of goldfinches as they flitted about in a nearby mass of coneflowers picking the delicious seeds from the drying flower heads. It was the strident flap of their wings in fearful flight which alerted you to the presence of the stranger abiding calmly beside the hammock. Shielding your eyes with your upturned hand, you made out the form of a dark-haired, trench coat wearing, handsome, strikingly blue-eyed man staring apologetically down at you with the halo of the sun behind his head.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he hadn’t meant to wake you – coming upon your peacefully drowsing figure he felt like he saw an apparition – something shimmering golden and bright just out of his grasp. He lingered too long in his reverie, captivated by the sun-freckled glow of your skin, and unintentionally roused you. He swept a hand towards the cottage, “No one answered at the door.”

“You don’t say?” you mocked shock, a half-grin betraying you as you swung out of the hammock and landed squarely on your feet. “That’s probably because whomever lives there is lazily sleeping away the afternoon somewhere comfy. Guess it’s a good thing you dropped in out of nowhere to save what’s left of the day.”

“I drove.”

“What?”

“I didn’t drop in, I drove,” he insisted earnestly.

You failed to stifle a bubbling laugh, “Oh, my mistake.”

He cocked his head curiously, an unexpected surge of pleasant heat rising in his chest to flush his cheeks at the heartwarming quality of your laughter. He continued, “I’m renting the Holmes’ place. Well, my friend Dean actually rented it for me. He insisted I needed to do some soul-searching and that this was the very place to do it in.” He didn’t mention the fact that he was an angel and didn’t actually have a soul to search. And anyway, when he confronted Dean with this very same point, Dean had accused him of being too literal for his own damn good.

“Dean? As in Sam and Dean Winchester?” you asked.

“You know them?” he did not disguise the surprise in his husky tone.

“You could say that,” you held up a bandaged hand for him to see. “Strangest thing happened last week. I guess I cut myself pretty badly with pruning shears and fainted. I don’t really remember it happening, but luckily Sam and Dean were hiking the shore trail, heard me cry out, and came running to the rescue. Anyway,” you brushed off the odd experience that never sat comfortably in your memory whenever you thought about it, “I must be boring you. You probably just want to pick up the keys to get on with your vacation. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow. What did you do, drive all night?”

He bobbed his head affirmatively, replying, “I don’t sleep.” Adding sincerely because, for some fleeting reason he couldn’t quite pin down, he truly didn’t, “I don’t find you boring at all.”

You laughed again, starting up toward the cottage by way of the gardens.

He closely followed.

“Can I interest you in a cup of tea?” you proposed, glancing hopefully over your shoulder. Something about his endearingly awkward demeanor thrummed your heartstrings.

“I would like that very much,” his tongue accepted the offer before his mind processed the question. As it turned out, he happened to agree wholeheartedly with his tongue.

“By the way, I’m Y/N,” you wondered how you’d gotten this far into a conversation without the practical subject of names arising.

“Castiel. Or Cas, if you prefer.”

“Castiel,” you repeated, “it’s a beautiful name.”

He thought it sounded more beautiful to him when spoken by you. “Thank you,” he bashfully dropped his regard to the stony ground between his feet.

“I’ll be right back,” you smiled at his shyness, “going to put the water on for tea.” You left him to wander the cobblestone paths through the garden alone.

Meandering up the winding path, a patch of blue in the shade of the porch keenly drew his notice. Walking nearer, he bent to graze his fingertips lightly over the delicate perfumed sea of cerulean petals.

“Periwinkle,” you whispered. Coming up beside him, you crouched, touching his shoulder for balance, to pick a tiny bouquet.

He straightened, angelic heart bounding at the memory of the fragile burned flower mysteriously in his possession on the barge and how it and he came to be there.

You twisted the plucked bloom between two fingers, a kindling spark of recognition illuminating in your expression. “You know, they’re almost a perfect match for your eyes,” you noted with a wistful smile. Tracing quivering fingers along the inside of his coat lapel, tears and recollection glinting in your eyes, you threaded the stem through a button hole, and patted the fabric to lay flat.

Castiel thought of the solitary star he saw in the sky that terrible night, gleaming and consumed by the gathering storm. No, he realized now, not a light consumed by the dark – a beacon  shining bright and forever beyond the clouds. He would spend eternity always making his way back to that light – to you. Clasping your hands tenderly within his trembling fingers, he pressed them to his heart.

[theprinceandagcd]

it’s a chance we’ll have to take (1/4)

Hiya, so this is my first time really spitting out a full length fic for Bellamy/Clarke. I've done little drabbles on tumblr but this is longer and more thought out and all that fun, anxiety provoking stuff. That being said, I've officially slaved over this first part as much as I think I can. If you have any comments, suggestions, or criticisms to help me when writing these characters that I have come to cherish and love so much, please feel free to let me know!

Thanks! xoxo

also on ao3 | ff.net

word count: 4,521

When people first come off of the unfamiliar ship that appeared on Earth, Clarke stands hidden in the shadows with Madi for a long moment, contemplating whether she should approach them. They seem harmless enough-- a few men, women, and children, varying ages among them. She glances at Madi, knowing that if not for her, she would have likely already revealed herself.

But right now, Madi is all she has, and she can’t risk her.

So she watches silently and assesses them. Her gun is gripped tightly in her hand, just in case. They’re all surveying the area slowly and carefully. One of the men touches a tree, the grass, another plant, and then pulls out a tablet. He considers it for a moment, touching it a few times, and then he nods and says something to the man behind her that she can’t hear. Clarke recognizes the authority in the man with the tablet as the other man nods and seems to follow whatever instruction he was given.

She hasn’t noticed that any of them have guns.

At least, not big ones.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke turns and puts her hands on Madi’s shoulders. “Stay here. I’m going to go talk to them.”

“If I come with you, maybe they’ll be less likely to be aggressive. They have children.”

It’s not the worst logic, actually. If these people aren’t here for violent purposes, a child would be more likely to assure that they stay that way.

But if they are…

She considers for a moment, but in the end, she trusts her gut and shakes her head. “I think I’ll be okay. Here.” She hands Madi the gun she’s holding. “How about you watch my back for me?”

Madi swallows but nods, holding the gun up already. Clarke smiles at her determination to do the job, her heart twisting just a little. She presses a kiss to her head and then stands, walking into the clearing.

“Hello?” she speaks almost immediately to avoid them thinking she was trying to be sneaky.

The man with the tablet looks up from it and his eyes widen. “Hi.” He blinks a few times, his mouth opening once, twice, as if he wants to speak, but can’t form words. Finally, he walks toward her, still incredulous. “Excuse my confusion. We weren’t expecting to find anyone alive here.”

Clarke nods. “That’s understandable.”

They’re within a few feet of each other now, so she extends a hand. “My name is Clarke.”

“George.” He shakes her hand, smiling just a little. “Is there anyone else?”

Probably?

But she nods firmly. “There are twelve hundred people in a camp several miles from here.”

In a bunker. If they’re alive.

“Twelve hundred?” Something flashes in his eyes that makes Clarke’s stomach turn, but she keeps the smile on her face.

His pocket beeps and he pulls back out the tablet, shaking his head. “Sorry, we have some… passengers that are being difficult.”

Clarke steals a glance at the screen as he pulls up what looks to be camera footage. She sees a small room with very little furniture in it, reminding her of a prison cell.

With seven people in it.

Her heart leaps into her throat as she recognizes them immediately. Echo, Emori, and Murphy sit in a corner. Raven is sitting on a chair, head in her hands. Monty and Harper are on a cot, leaning against the wall behind it.

And Bellamy is hitting the door with the side of his fist, yelling something.

They’re alive.

She tries to swallow her gasp, but instead it comes out as a stuttered breath, which draws George’s attention anyway. Before she can look away, he sees that she’s watching the screen. His head tilts, and she feels uncomfortable as he scrutinizes her. She forces herself to pull her gaze away, but she already knows it’s too late. He’s recognized her expression, placed it already for what it is.

Her friends are alive and it’s the happiest she’s felt in years.

“Friends of yours?”        

“Yes.” He already knows. No sense in lying.

Her gaze goes back to the screen, where Bellamy is running a hand through his hair and everyone is watching him. The locks are longer than she’s ever seen them, the curls a mess on his forehead and neck. She can see the weight of the last six years on his shoulders, the way he looks at all of them and deflates because he thinks they’re hopeless.

“We found them on a craft on our way in and they denied any attempts at joining our group or an alliance of any kind.” George’s tone has shifted, and Clarke thinks of Madi, hiding in the trees several yards behind her. It’s the only thing keeping her feet grounded even though her world feels like it’s spinning.

They’re alive, they’re alive, they’re alive.

She has to save them, has to get them out, has to make sure they’re really okay. Her mind is racing, going over options and trying to think rationally.

“Why have you come here?” she asks, proud of herself for keeping her voice level even though her throat is tight, her stomach in knots. She refocuses her attention on him as he responds.

“To live, of course,” George laughs, tapping something on the tablet and then putting it away once again.

“If that’s true, then I can help you.” She digs her nails into her palm to keep it from shaking. “I have lived here for six years, since the fire that destroyed the earth. I know where the best places are to find food, what things are safe to eat and what isn’t, where water can be found.”

“That would be great.” His friendly tone is back, his smile big. His eyes, however, remain dark.

Stay calm, save your friends, get back to Madi.

“But let my friends go.”

His smile lessens, his lips pursing as he considers her. “They’ve been very difficult, Clarke.”

“So you should be happy to release them. They won’t be a bother to you anymore and you’ll have my full and total knowledge of how to survive here as well as my complete cooperation.” She takes as deep of a breath as she can without letting on that she’s been holding it.

George is silent for a long moment as he regards her, eyebrows furrowed and hands on his hips. He glances back at the group of people who left the ship with him, most of which are still looking around or wandering. A few are staring in their direction, whispering amongst themselves.

“Alright.” He isn’t happy, but he turns back to her and nods.

“Thank you,” she sighs, smiling. “And as a sign of good faith, you can find a watering hole about a mile west of here, as well as several edible plants. I can draw pictures of the ones that are safe, but most of them in that area are.”

She points in the direction, and George nods. “We appreciate it. Stay here. I’ll return with your friends.”

Clarke does as he asks as he disappears back into the ship, and she peers back and scans the forest. It takes a moment for her to locate Madi’s head peeking out just barely. The girl stands a little straighter and Clarke shakes her head and smiles, holding out a hand and making sure she knows to stay. Madi nods and ducks back down, so that all Clarke can see is the very top of her head, if she squints.  

And when she turns back around, the first thing she sees is him.

------

“Seriously, Bellamy, it’s not doing any good and it’s driving me crazy. Sit down.”

Bellamy shakes his head, looking back to see Raven’s eyes sharp but still pleading. “My sister is out there and these people are keeping us locked up.”

“We have people we care about on the other side of these walls, too,” Harper says, sighing. “But bruising your fists and yelling isn’t helping anyone. It’s probably just going to make it worse.”

Harper leans against Monty as she speaks, and Bellamy glances around at everyone for the first time since they landed on Earth. They’re all tired—shoulders slumped and bags under their eyes—but they’re still looking at him, expecting him to be a leader.

There’s a familiar pang in his chest at that thought, though it isn’t as sharp as it used to be. It still aches and radiates through his body, but it’s something he’s learned to live with. Sometimes, he even considers it a comfort that the pain is still there, that he still misses her even after all these years. It’s a reminder that she was real, that the impact she had on him was valid, that maybe even after being gone for so long, that she’s still with him.

Being his head.

Running a hand through his hair, he sits down on the floor on the other side of Echo, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them. In his mind, he tries to imagine what she would say, how she would handle being locked in here, but he comes up with nothing.

He can’t hear her voice as clearly as he used to be able to, has to focus hard to picture her smile, the way she’d narrow her eyes at him. That hurts more than anything, that there might come a time when those things are lost to him.

It’s one of the reasons that he clings so desperately to the pain that her absence still brings. He doesn’t want to lose her memory, doesn’t want to forget how important she was, doesn’t want to lose the Clarke sized hole in his heart because he’s worried eventually that will be all that’s left.

Echo shifts just a little closer, and he takes the smallest amount of comfort from that. When she reaches out to put her hand on his knee, he glances over at her and smiles just a little, even though he knows it’s the sorriest excuse he could have mustered. She returns it, a bit more genuinely, and then presses the lightest kiss on the corner of his mouth. “We’ll be alright.”

He nods and then sits up straighter, feeling the guilt that usually accompanies her affection in proximity to him thinking about Clarke. It isn’t fair to her, he knows, that part of him will always be unavailable to her.

The part of him that died with Clarke.

He knows that she’s aware of that, too, but she never seems to mind. She lets him walk away if it’s too much, listens to him without ever complaining, and lets him lose himself in her late at night when he needs the release or the distraction.

He appreciates having her around, but he’s not in love with her, and they both know it. Still, he puts his hand over hers on his knee and holds it. When he glances back over at her, she’s staring straight ahead, but there is a content smile on her features.

It makes him feel a little better.

When the door opens, though, he stands immediately, and he can feel everyone in the room holding their breath. It’s the same man who’s talked to them nearly every time— their leader, he supposes. His face is as stern as always, and he fixes them all with a glare.

“Turns out you have a friend on the outside who’s made a deal on your behalf. Follow me.” He shrugs. “Or don’t and stay here. Your choice.”  

“Must be someone from the bunker,” Murphy says, now standing beside Bellamy as the man turns and walks out. They all follow, carefully, and a few minutes later, the sun is in his eyes as they walk out onto Earth for the first time in six years.

When the man stops at the door, Bellamy looks back at him, holding his gaze for a moment. Suspicion makes his stomach turn, but the man simply stares out at them, features stern. The only thing following them is his eyes.

He’s really letting them go.

Someone beside him gasps, but before he can turn his head around to see what’s caused the reaction, a body collides with his.

If it weren’t for Monty behind him, he would have stumbled for sure, but the hand at his back stops the motion. Regardless, the breath is knocked out of him as two arms are flung around his neck. His split second thought is his sister, but then he sees blonde hair and his entire world stops.

(There’s no way.)

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” is whispered in his ear, and it’s her.

It’s her voice, and her arms, and her blonde curls.

(It’s impossible.)

He tries to say her name but his throat is too tight, his chest too constricted. So, he wraps his arms around her and holds on as tightly as possible, and he doesn’t realize that he’s crying until a sob escapes his throat. Her arms hold just a little more firmly at the sound. Another moment passes before she pulls back and he sees her face, sees that she’s smiling and she has red in her hair and she’s crying, too. He takes it all in as she reaches up to wipe at his cheeks and he does the same, tracing every line and touching the red streaks and convincing himself that she’s real.

Maybe the air is still toxic and this is what his brain has come up with for him to see as he dies.

A tiny laugh escapes her mouth as she squeezes his arms. “Bellamy.”  

It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, and he can feel himself laughing a little too, incredulous. He has so much he wants to tell her but he still can’t form words on his lips. His heart is beating so hard in his chest, harder than it has in six years.

(Was it beating at all without her?)

Everyone else surrounds her now, and she turns her attention to them briefly, hugging them. He watches, unable to take his eyes off of her for a second, afraid she’ll disappear if he does. She laughs when Murphy briefly lifts her feet off of the ground with a bear hug, and even Echo wraps her arms around Clarke for a moment, a smile gracing her features.

And then she’s back in front of him and he wraps her in his arms again, and it’s then that he finally finds his voice. “Clarke,” he murmurs as he closes his eyes and presses his face into her hair, his lips into her forehead, touching as much of her as possible. “You’re alive.”

“So are you,” she whispers back from where she’s tucked beneath his chin. Her arms are linked behind his back and he concentrates on how good it feels to have that weight there, to feel her pressed against him and warm and breathing.

“Because of you.”

She picks up her head and looks up at him, arms staying at his waist. Her mouth opens, but Murphy’s voice stops anything she might have said.

“I am as happy as the next guy that we’re all alive and stuff, but can we get a little farther away from this damn ship and everyone in it?”

They all laugh and Clarke detangles herself from his arms, but doesn’t move any further away. He still has to fight the urge to pull her back, the absence of her touch making him ache.

“Yes.” Her smile widens just a little as she looks into the forest. “Besides, there’s… something I want to show you.”

She starts walking toward the woods, and Bellamy follows step for step, only stopping when she does at the voice from behind them.

“Don’t be too far, Miss Clarke. We wouldn’t want to have to look for you.” The man that let them out speaks loudly, very clearly an in-charge type, and Clarke nods, eyes narrow, and then turns and continues walking.

“What did you do?” Monty asks, and Clarke sighs.

“I told them I’d help them with food and water and stuff, but I have a feeling they’re going to be a bigger problem than that.” Her brows are furrowed and he shifts so that they’re a little closer, their hands brushing as they walk.

“We’re together now,” Raven says, smirking. “I’d like to see them try.”

Clarke grins briefly but then turns serious. “Everyone else is still in the bunker. There’s a lot of rubble and I haven’t been able to get them out yet, but… maybe with all of us we can.”

“Probably wouldn’t hurt for us all to get some rest first. We haven’t been sleeping much the last few days.” Emori’s suggestion hangs for a moment, and glances are passed between them until Clarke’s eyes find his.

“Is that okay?”

He forces his gaze away to look at everyone around them before looking back to her. “Yeah, I think we could all probably use the rest. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”

“Can you radio them?” Raven asks.

Clarke shakes her head. “I haven’t been able to, but maybe with you here, we can figure out a way to—“

“Clarke!” A voice from in front of them calls her name as they get past the tree line and for the first time since they were reunited, she leaves his side to embrace the girl running toward her. “Are you alright? Are these your friends? From space?”

The girl is small, probably about ten or eleven, with long brown hair. She looks up at Clarke with bright eyes, and then glances over at the rest of them. Though she seems excited, she stays glued to Clarke’s side.

“They are.” Clarke’s smile is wide as she turns back to the group, keeping one arm around the girl. “Guys, this is Madi. She’s a nightblood, so she survived the death wave, too. Madi, this is—“

“Wait!” Madi stops her, hesitating only briefly before taking a few steps forward. “I want to guess.”

Unable to look away from Clarke, Bellamy watches as her eyes light up and she laughs, this one even more beautiful than the one before it. “Okay, go ahead.”

He manages to pull his attention to Madi as she looks at all of them, assessing each person and then putting one hand on her hip as she points.

“Emori and Murphy,” she guesses correctly, gesturing to the couple standing to his left.

She then points at Monty and Harper. “Monty and Harper.”

The two in question smile and nod, and Madi grins as she turns to Raven and Echo, to his right. Her brow furrows, and then she moves her finger Echo. “Echo? So you—“ She points at Raven. “—must be Raven.”

Finally, she looks at him, and her smile is as big as it’s been since she started. “And you have to be Bellamy.”

Everyone laughs and Madi joins them, looking back at Clarke. “I got them right, didn’t I?”

Clarke nods. “Yes, my little nightblood. Very good. You were paying attention to the stories.”

“Stories?” Raven asks, brows raised.

“We had a lot of time to pass. I had a lot of stories to tell about my best friends.” Clarke shrugs. “Don’t worry, most of them were the good ones.”

The look she shoots him makes his heart jump so hard that it hurts, clenching in his already tight chest. He has to break their eye contact to reign in the organ, inhaling slowly as he takes in the trees. They look greener than he was expecting, the life in them stronger than he had imagined they’d be.

His attention is drawn back to Madi as she gestures with her hand. “Come on, our camp is this way.” And then she picks a rather large gun up off of the ground as if it’s weightless and heads even further into the woods.

They follow, and Clarke falls back into step beside him. Her presence is heavy at his side, something that he missed so much and that he never thought he would feel again. As if she can feel his gaze, she looks at him and the corners of her lips quirk up. She bumps her shoulder against him playfully and he wants to hug her again, or kiss her, or wrap an arm around her as they walk, or even physically attach her to his side so that he never has to be away from her again.

In the end, he settles for nudging her shoulder in return, which makes her smile widen. As they walk, her arm brushes against his with nearly every step, and that piece of him that died, that he thought was gone forever, breathes again.

------

“You know we can’t trust them.”

Bellamy’s voice is quiet, meant only for Clarke as they sit in the back of the Rover, the rest of the group around a fire not too far in front of them. Bellamy has one knee pulled up to his chest and Clarke has her legs crossed in front of her, so that her knee is resting on his outstretched thigh. The touch is comforting, and the constant thankfulness he feels of having her next to him and alive swells.

She’s picking at the skin around her nails, biting on her bottom lip. “I know. But we’ve handled worse. Once we have everyone out of the bunker, we’ll figure out what we need to do.”

Sighing, he pulls her hands apart from each other. “Stop, you’ll hurt yourself.”

She looks up at him from the corner of her eyes and then rolls them, but there’s no heat behind it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Still.” He smirks over at her and she scrunches her nose up, glancing out at the others in front of them. Raven is speaking and Madi is listening intently, her entire body leaning toward whatever story is being told. He watches as her face softens, watching the girl ask questions and Raven patiently answer them.

“When did you find her?” he asks, trying not to make it too obvious that he leans a little closer, until their arms are pressed together.

“About six months after.” Her voice is quiet. When he looks over at her, she seems far away. Lost in a memory. Her hands have stilled in her lap. “I was trying to find food and found her, lost and alone and… scared. She didn’t talk to me for a really long time, but I fed her and talked to her, and eventually… she let me in.”

Silence lingers for a moment as they watch the group, and guilt builds in his chest, almost as heavy as the guilt of leaving her to die. “I’m glad you had her,” he finally says, staring down at the ground. His eyes are stinging and he rubs at them quickly. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

As if easily sensing his distress, she reaches over and puts a hand on his knee. “Don’t, Bellamy. It’s okay. You did what you had to do and exactly what I wanted you to do. We’re all here, all alive. Because of you.”

“Because of you,” he corrects, shaking his head. “You saved us. Not me.”

“It was both of us,” she compromises, shrugging. “Either way, I’m proud of you.”

The words slip easily from her lips, and his breath catches. She said them so casually, like it were the most basic and true thing in the world. Yet, he feels the warmth of it pulsing through him, even after she pulls her hand back, into her own lap.

Silence lingers for a moment as they stare at the fire. Clarke shifts, and a glance in her direction reveals that she’s pursing her lips, brows furrowed. There’s something she wants to say, he can tell, but she’s contemplating.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” As an afterthought, he adds, “If you want.”

He winces a little at the way the statement feels flat. Has six years changed them? Will she still trust him in the same way, or do they have to start over? He can still read her just as easily and she hasn’t given any indication that their current proximity is an issue, but he shouldn’t assume.

“I had you, too,” she finally whispers. “I talked to you on the radio every day, even though I knew the odds of you being able to hear me were low. I always imagined what you would say if you could hear me, and I told you what was happening and how Madi was doing. It helped.”

Speech fails him as he processes her confession, and he doesn’t look at her until he figures out how to breathe again.  It isn’t much, really, just an admission that she missed him, needed him. Yet, the air seems thinner and his eyes are burning even after he blinks. His world is shifting back into place and he’s berating himself for ever even entertaining the idea that he could love anyone else.

He loves her, and only her. He probably always will.

When he peeks over at her out of the corner of his eye, she’s watching him, looking worried.

“Is that weird?”

It’s then that he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, and he shakes his head a little too vehemently. “No, no that’s not weird. I…” He hesitates, but then shrugs. “At least you had reason to believe we were alive and could hear you. I… I thought you were dead and still talked to you, wondered what you would do and imagined what you’d say all the time.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, but he can see her smile in her eyes. “So you didn’t forget about me.”

“Not even for a second, Princess.”

“Hm,” she hums, and then she surprises him, moving her head to rest it on his arm. He bites on the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too big, from giving away how much his heart is flying, racing and jumping in a way that he thought he would never feel again. His head is still trying to catch up, to understand that the girl he loves is here, alive and okay.

Trying to swallow past the emotion closing up his throat, he shifts his arm to wrap it around her, and her head slips to his chest. “I missed you so much.”

His whispered admission is gravelly, the words feeling much larger than they are. He wraps his other arm around her, too, holding tight. She leans into his touch, hands coming up to hold the arm across her chest. He presses his face into her hair and breathes, trying to savor the moment. Her response is quiet, a small murmur into the crook of his elbow, but he hears her as clearly as if she’d screamed the words. “I missed you, too.”

[mandywantsacookie]

Sparks

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Stephen Strange, Jane Foster, mentions of Steve Rogers.  Entirely MCU based.  Premise: Darcy stumbles upon the strangest thing in the lab one night. Author’s Note: Not long after seeing Doctor Strange I posted this.  The fic has been floating around my head for awhile so I finally decided to see what happened.  This is the result.  I will warn you that this it the first time I have ever attempted to write Stephen Strange, and I sadly have only seen the movie once.  So I am not sure if I got him right.  I just wanted to have fun.  Hopefully you will enjoy it.  Will be posted to AO3 tomorrow.

Darcy is bleary eyed as she shuffles down the hall at a little after 4 in the morning.  Part of her wants to go right back where she came from (a nice warm bed).  Instead she feels her way towards the lab with her fingers, cursing when she stubs her toe on box (why haven’t they unpacked that yet --- it’s been weeks).

She has a feeling.

One strong enough that she had been jolted from dreams of a certain spangly super solider.  She knows better than to ignore said feeling.  She has done that approximately two times in her life and both ended in disaster (that she would rather not talk about thank you very much).  

Half limping from her encounter with the big bad box, Darcy pushes open the door to the lab and sure enough --- her feeling is validated.  “JANE!” She tries her best to sound authoritarian.  She sounds surprised instead which is fitting because her companion clearly hasn’t heard her coming (even with all that cursing).  

Jane’s body jolts and then she lets out a high pitched squeak. “Darcy,” Jane states as she turns away from a machine.  She looks sheepish --- like a kid caught after curfew.  In a way she is.  

Darcy stands in the doorway of the lab, hands on her hips.  “You promised.”

“I know...”

“You promised,” Darcy repeats.  “Five hours of uninterrupted sleep.  No scribbling notes under the covers with a flashlight, no staring at the ceiling while working equations and definitely no lab!”

“But...”

“No buts either,” Darcy states and watches Jane’s head hang.  She has her on the ropes.  “It was our deal. I forsaked my bed until three in the morning just to ensure that you didn’t end up drooling on the....” She glanced at the complex machine still beeping away on the table.  “...on the doohickey of importance because you promised me you would get some real sleep.  Time to keep that promise, missy.”

“Yes, Darcy.”

“Damn straight it’s yes, Darcy,” She says in triumph.  Before Jane can get her second wind and try to argue her down to four hours of sleep, Darcy has her hands on her friend’s shoulders and she is steering her back towards her bedroom.  “This is for your own good you know.  You won’t be able to report on all these exciting new findings...” That Darcy does not understand in the least. “...if you can’t properly string two words together.”  They reach Jane’s bedroom and she gives her friend a little shove.  “Now go! Sleep.”

Jane stumbles and Darcy almost lurches forward to ensure that Jane doesn’t end up face first on the floor.  Thankfully Jane has enough left in her to right her steps.  She looks drunk as she weaves and bobs towards her bed.  

Darcy decides that for the sake of her own sleep cycle she will bear witness to Jane’s final descent.  She moves further into the room, her fingers playing with the hem of the t-shirt she is wearing.  Jane clearly is not interested in sleepwear, instead just flopping on her bed hard enough to bounce.  “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

Jane says something directly into the mattress.  Darcy is sure it is words of agreement.  

“Sweet dreams of Asgardians with big hammers, Jane,” Darcy says fondly, already stepping backwards towards the exit (she can practically taste her bed).  She continues her escape and is nearly free when Jane bolts up straight in bed.

“Darcy!”

Darcy’s heartbeat is pounding against her chest.  “What the hell?  You trying to kill me before I turn thirty?”  

“Turn it off,” Jane instructs and for a moment Darcy is lost.  “It needs to be powered down if no one is monitoring it.”

Ah...the doohickey of importance.

“I got your back,” she promises and leaves as soon as Jane falls back on the bed.  She doesn’t need to look twice to know her friend is deep asleep.  She’ll be doing the same as soon as she follows through on her last good deed of the night.

She avoids the box this time as she makes her way into the lab.  Without Jane to focus on, Darcy finds the whole thing...kind of creepy.  “Right, doohickey and then skedaddle,” she vows and crosses the space towards the machine that is still blinking its own version of Morose Code.  She bends down, squinting to find the off switch.  Predictably it is not labelled.  “ --- I’m going to blow my ass up before I’ve had the chance to climb Mount Rogers.”  

It’s a real possibility.  

Her hand hovers over the machine for a moment or two, fingers dancing between two buttons (she narrows it down by color).  She considers playing Eenie Meenie Miney Mo but that seems wholly unscientific.  Finally, she decides to go with her gut.  After all, she has a good track record (minus those two times).  

She is about to press the circular button on the side when something catches her eye.  Or more accurately, she notices an orange glow bathing the otherwise darkened room.  Uh oh.  She takes a deep breath and glances over her shoulder.

Sparks.

There are sparks.

“Oh shit!” She cries, a panic seizing her immediately.  Sparks aren’t good.  Sparks are never good.  She can’t tell exactly what piece of equipment is about to burst in flames but does that really matter at this point?  

Instead of trying to locate the exact source she scrambles, tripping over Jane’s sneakers.  She lands with an audible umph but it proves to be a useful maneuver.  She can see the fire extinguisher now tucked away under the desk.  She drags it towards her, fingers working the pin as she does so.  By the time she is on her feet again, she is ready to unload the whole thing.

On sparks that have formed a circle --- a swirling circle.

She blinks, wondering if it some science thing or if she has finally lost her goddamn mind.  Either way, she is better off not getting hypnotized by odd display.  It’s still the beginnings of a catastrophe after all.  

She lets loose with the fire extinguisher and a funny thing happens.

(not so much funny haha as funny wtf is this)

Through the cloud of white she sees a shape emerging in the center of the sparks.  It starts small and she squints as it takes on a more discernible form.  A human form.

Her mouth falls open.  For a moment her grip on the extinguisher falters but there are still sparks so she redoubles her efforts.  

“Stop! Stop!” A male voice echoes through the space.

Still in shock as to what she has just witnessed, Darcy actually complies.  The sparks have gone and the cloud of carbon dioxide is settling, bathing the surrounding area in a white residue.

There is a rather large lump in the middle of it all.

She is breathing heavily as she reaches for the lights.  The sudden brightness is harsh on her eyes and she blinks repeatedly to help them adjust.  Then she is looking to the floor.

It is...a red ball.  

At least that is what is looks like.

She is still clutching the fire extinguisher, only now it serves as weapon.  She takes a step closer to the newcomer and then immediately hops back when the red ball begins to wiggle violently.

“Yes, yes, I am alright.  No need for this cocoon,” the male voice says and an arm shoots out from underneath.  It is followed by a leg.  She tilts her head as the red covering seems to unfold itself from around the source of the voice.

She raises the extinguisher expecting the worse.

Then makes a face at what she sees.

“You don’t look like an alien,” she states (a silly thing to say considering the last ‘alien’ she met had a heck of a six pack).

The man finally seems to acknowledge her.  His head turns quickly so he is looking directly at her.  “Excuse me?”

“Alien,” she says slowly, wondering if his birth through a sparkly circus hoop has damaged his hearing.  “You don’t look like an alien.”

He stands (oh boy he’s tall).  There is a furious patting down of his arms and she realizes that that red thing is a cape.  Not a Thor cape either.  This one seems to be alive because it is helping its wearer get rid of any proof he has sprayed down.  He finally looks to her again.  “That is because I am not.”

Huh, that’s new.

“So...you’re...not from Asgard?” She asks, throwing in one last ditch effort for an explanation that would at least make sense to her.

“No, I am not Asgardian,” he assures her.  “I’m Stephen Strange.”

“Got that right,” she immediately retorts, noting that he has a particularly interesting take on facial hair.

He levels a dirty look in her direction.  “Doctor Stephen Strange.”

Darcy hasn’t let up on her grip on the fire extinguisher.  “Darcy Lewis.” 

For a moment she thinks he looks wounded that she hasn’t recognized him.  Then he straightens himself up. “Not Jane Foster then?  Where is she?”

“Sleeping.  Like most people do at this time of night,” Darcy tells him.  She blinks again and then wonders why she is answering his questions.  “Okay, hold up --- just what the hell are you doing here?  And did you seriously come through...nothing?”

There is a hint of a grin on his face.  “No, I did not come from nothing.  That would be physically impossible.  I am afraid that the true explanation is complicated...”

“I work with a world renowned astrophysicist.  Try me.”

He must take it as a challenge (good, she has meant it as one).  “I have the ability to travel throughout various dimensions ---”

“Stop.  Stop right there,” Darcy says, raising the hand holding the nozzle of the extinguisher.  “I am either too tired or not drunk enough to discuss the idea of traveling between dimensions.” She knows of traveling between worlds --- but that’s different then dimensions (or she really has misunderstood the foundation of Jane’s research; entirely possible).  “Let’s just focus on the first question: what the hell are you doing here?”

“Jane Foster is currently working on establishing contact between Earth and various other worlds,” Stephen states.  “Fascinating science really --- almost within the realm of the fantastical...”  

When he shifts his weight, she swings the fire extinguisher over her shoulder, wielding it like a baseball bat.  “How do you know that?”

“Are you going to hit me with that?”

“Right in that goateed face of yours,” Darcy confirms.  “Pro Tip: Tony Stark does it better.”

Stephen appears to weigh his options and then holds up both hands.  “I truly did not come here for nefarious purposes.”  

“Most non-nefarious people use the door,” Darcy points out.

He clucks his tongue.  “--- hardly as convenient.”

Her initial burst of adrenaline is starting to wear off and the exhaustion is creeping in to take its place.  “Look, Doctor Strange, if you want to discuss science with Jane make an appointment with her assistant.  Which is me by the way.  Sorry to stay she’s busy for the next decade or so.  So you and your...cape thing...” Did it just ruffle at Darcy’s words? “...are shit out of luck.”

“Oh I don���t want to discuss,” Stephen corrects.  “Not yet.  I just want to go over notes.  See if she has made any progress since last time...”

Since last time?

It dawns on her.  

“This isn’t your first time fire jumping your way in here, is it?” She asks, horrified.  “You...come here when we are sleeping?”

He seems to realize the implications of her accusation.  “Well...just once.  And only for a minute or two.”

Darcy screws her face up.  “Oh you absolute creep!” She swings the extinguisher now.  It is a clumsy attempt and goes wide.  Still the goddamn cape swipes out and knocks the thing from her hands.  She is left standing there open mouthed and filled with an odd mixture of fury and confusion.  “That thing...that’s the alien.”

Stephen furrows his brows.  “You might be right on that.”  One of the flaps springs up, knocking itself off his cheek.  “Don’t take it personally.” He paws at it until it returns to normal. 

Then he is looking at Darcy intently.  She realizes she is standing there in a pair of underwear and her Culver t-shirt.  Not exactly her best look considering the situation.  She is about to give him hell when she realizes he is not looking at her.  He is looking past her.  She glances over her shoulder to find what has caught his attention.  

The doohickey of importance.

“She managed to get it working,” he states with just the right amount of awe to have Darcy beaming proudly.

“Of course she did.”

Stephen makes a move towards it and Darcy yelps, throwing herself between the strange man and Jane’s current reason for living. 

“No touching!” She tells him, pressing her hands on his chest (impressive pecks for someone whose cape does the fighting for him).  She squirms to turn around.  “Actually I was just shutting it down for the night...” She extends her finger to press the circle button once more.

“No! No! Don’t do that!” Stephen’s voice is loud and Darcy jumps, banging her hip into the side of the table.  She turns to give him a dirty look.  “I mean --- by all means, press it if you wish to find yourself in multiple pieces.”

Okay, first thing tomorrow: Jane is labeling the buttons.

Stephen reaches around her and presses the square bottom on the top.  The blinking stops and the machine makes a noise that she can only equate to powering down.  “There,” he says with a rather large smile.  “Perfectly safe.”

“ --- thanks,” she deadpans.  “Now get the hell out.”

“I suppose that is the best thing to do,” Stephen concedes.  He steps back and goes into a stance that has Darcy snorting out a giggle, despite everything.  He glares in her direction and then eloquently flicks his wrist.  Seconds later those sparks reappear and form a circle.

She can see the Empire State Building in the center of it.

That shuts her up.

He grins once more and steps towards it.  

Darcy finally finds her voice.  “...and no more middle of the night...these things...” She makes a circular motion towards at the impossible thing hovering in the middle of the lab.  “You want to visit, you make an appointment.  I’m serious.  I’m setting up motion detectors and everything.”

Okay, Jane will set them up.

Stephen gives a nod of his head.  Then steps through the circle.  Moments later it fades until there are only a few sparks left.  She can’t help but stick her finger out to let one touch her finger as it falls.  She hisses as it burns her skin.

She leaves the lab as it is (white foam on the floor, fire extinguisher lying haphazardly next to the computer tower) and hits the lights.  She needs her bed.  Badly.  She repeats Jane’s actions and practically throws herself at it.  

She finds herself suckling her singed finger as she thinks over the entire crazy encounter.

In the end, she decides that yep, sparks are definitely bad.

[grubhivemind]

FINN: -speaking of impulsive decisions, finn is now at simula's door with Sofia in her little baby carrier. they had just visited his parents, but when he left, he couldn't stop thinking about how simula lives here and how much he wanted to talk to them about that album they posted. he's nervous and his palms are sweaty, but he knocks with his free hand anyway-

SIMULA: -they already saw him coming, thanks to their wicked security cameras. they aren't quite sure what to make of it... and worst of all, he brought his damn baby along with him. they decide to let him dangle for a little while, and maybe during that time he'll just... leave. but unfortunately, curiosity gets the better of them and they drift over to the door to answer, looking positively unconcerned by his presence.- 

SIMULA: Wow. Finn. What a plea-sant sur-prise.

FINN: -his cheeks get a little red at the insincere greeting, but he makes himself take a deep breath- can we talk 

SOFIA: -drooling and looking up at simula. What an aesthetically attractive individual-

SIMULA: -thank you. I know.- 

SIMULA: We can.

FINN: -god damn it. he looks down- i mean 

FINN: i want to talk to you now

SIMULA: -weary sigh- 

SIMULA: II sup-pose you'd like to come in. -moves aside. they were taught better, at least, than to leave him hanging out there, with a baby no less.-

FINN: -relieved and terrified at the same time that simula lets him in, and he steps inside and glances around.- thanks

SIMULA: -shuts the door telekinetically and drifts on over to the living area.- Please, sit. -they won't offer him anything else, though, and promptly takes a seat themself.-

FINN: -he's grateful for this level of civility between the two of them and takes a seat on the couch, setting Sofia's carrier beside him and idly rocking it with his hand for the sake of something to do- about those 

FINN: screenshots and pictures you posted

SIMULA: What a-bout them? -examines their nails.-

FINN: why

SIMULA: Why what? 

SIMULA: Use your words.

SIMULA: Eng-lish or Span-ish will do.

FINN: why did you post them 

FINN: why did you want to humiliate me at that point in time

FINN: i know i 

FINN: did a lot of things wrong over a period of years but 

FINN: what am i doing now that makes you feel like you need to get back at me

SIMULA: -lips twitch in the slight suggestion of their facade cracking.- May-be II don't need a rea-son. 

SIMULA: May-be II just thought it would be fun-ny. 

SIMULA: And it was. 

SIMULA: May-be that's just the kind of per-son II am.

FINN: well it's not it's just the person you want to be to me 

FINN: i know you care about other people 

FINN: aren't you in a relationship right now 

FINN: i think you have to care 

FINN: so it's not the kind of person you are

SIMULA: -crosses their arms, getting indignant now that he's brought up venras.- II am in a relationship. 

SIMULA: We bask in the misfortune of oth-ers together. 

SIMULA: It's great.

FINN: -he shakes his head- no you don't 

FINN: there's a reason for me 

FINN: i know there is 

FINN: and i know i'll never be able to make up for how much i hurt you 

FINN: maybe i'm asking for some mercy even if I don't deserve it

SIMULA: -their lips purse and their arms tighten across their chest, but otherwise are keeping a relatively straight face. well... save for the sparks occasionally popping around their horns.- 

SIMULA: II don't care a-bout an-y of that. 

SIMULA: Why should II? It was so long a-go. 

SIMULA: None of what hap-pened ev-en mat-ters anymore.

FINN: well something has to be making you want me to feel bad about myself right

SIMULA: -goes quiet as they avoid looking at him, nails digging into their arms. this is stupid and they know it. what's the point in being petty? it only feels easier than confronting the truth.- 

SIMULA: You don't-- 

SIMULA: Get it. 

SIMULA: II-- -covers their face with one hand, exhaling- 

SIMULA: It's stup-id.

FINN: -he watches them, noticing the change of demeanor- it's not stupid 

FINN: especially if it's affecting you so much

SIMULA: II don't need your sentiments, II-- 

SIMULA: It... -sparks a little more, shutting their eyes tight.- 

SIMULA: It real-ly didn't mat-ter. II may as well have... Nev-er come back. From Lauc-tis. 

SIMULA: It would have been bet-ter that way.  

SIMULA: II would-n't have was-ted everyone's time.

FINN: -doesn't take his eyes off of them- what do you mean

SIMULA: ... Emilet. -winces saying it, admitting it.- 

SIMULA: You were al-ways sup-posed to be together. 

SIMULA: II fig-ured that out right away. 

SIMULA: And yet II still deluded my-self in-to think-ing otherwise. 

SIMULA: That II ev-er stood a chance again-st some-one like you. S

IMULA: That II ev-er-- 

SIMULA: Ev-en existed. As a fac-tor. 

SIMULA: II'm hard-ly ev-en a foot note in this fuck-ing fair-y tale. -hisses under their breath- 

SIMULA: But it's stu-pid. That II care. It does-n't mat-ter... 

SIMULA: II don't ev-en want to be with him anymore.

FINN: -it hurts to hear simula say that...just imagining all of the pain simula must be going through because of him. it's not like he can argue against it, because not only would it be ineffective but finn wouldn't be able to validate simula in this regard. someone else, maybe. not him. his expression softens- i'm 

FINN: no standard 

FINN: i'm kind of a fucking mess 

FINN: as you've noticed but -he sighs and rocks sofia's carrier a little more- i'm sure that doesn't really help anything

SIMULA: -hastily tries to rub away some tears prickling at the corner of their eyes. sniff.- Obviously. 

SIMULA: It's not e-ven a-bout competition. 

SIMULA: Not at this point.

SOFIA: AAAAAAA 

FINN: -he feels so bad seeing how hurt simula is- so it's everything else

SIMULA: -JUMPS. the sudden baby yelling is WAY jarring. bad sensory shit.- Hhh-- 

 SIMULA: 私は自分自身を繰り返す必要がありますか？ 

SIMULA: -sighs- It's like II said. 

SIMULA: II may as well have not e-ven been a fac-tor to be-gin with.

SOFIA: -she seems to have gotten over it- 

FINN: right 

FINN: i don't think it was for nothing though 

FINN: - looks down again- but my opinion doesn't really matter because this is how you've been feeling and 

FINN: -looks back up at them- i don't see quinne that way at all 

FINN: even if we aren't together anymore 

FINN: and despite whoever emilet chose to be with after you i know for a fact that you helped him open up more 

FINN: you were never in the way and i'm sorry that i treated you like that

SIMULA: -hearing that makes them fall quiet, the energy quickly draining from them, leaving them with little attempts to wipe away anymore tears that fall. it's hard to decide whether they want to take that as a comfort or not, but the apology is nice.- 

SIMULA: ... II know that we... You and II... 

SIMULA: Were ne-ver as close as you were to my broth-ers. 

SIMULA: But II still thought we... -glances off, embarrassed.- 

SIMULA: Were... in some way... friends. Un-till... 

SIMULA: You know.

FINN: -it hurts to watch them cry, especially when he had so much to do with it, but this conversation is necessary. it has to happen for anything to move forward.- we were and i 

FINN: lost myself to a point where that happened 

FINN: instead of working things out 

FINN: i still want to be even if it's not something that's possible

SIMULA: -looks down at their lap, considering, but speaks with earnest confliction.- II... don't know... 

SIMULA: But II do know... II want to move on from everything. II hate that it still has pow-er ov-er me. -winces-

FINN: -he nods, understanding- i'll do anything you need me to to make sure that happens

SIMULA: -there's another pause as they try to consider everything going on inside their head.- This has been... ver-y help-ful. 

SIMULA: II hate to ad-mit.

FINN: -exhales- yeah FINN: for me too

SIMULA: ... -wipes at their eyes again before folding their hands in their lap.- 

SIMULA: Who has been shar-ing the de-tails of my personal life to you that you know a-bout Ven-ras? -asks indignantly, as if finn isn't a family friend.-

FINN: -looks up and pauses- well 

FINN: ryan kind of

SIMULA: -squints into the distance- Of course.

FINN: you know her 

FINN: she's a talker

SIMULA: A gos-sip. -SAYS, AS IF TALKING ABOUT THIS STUFF ISN'T JUST NORMAL- 

SIMULA: Do you know him?

FINN: not much 

FINN: i know of him 

FINN: i saw him at ryan's homecoming party

SIMULA: Oh. Right. 

SIMULA: II for-got a-bout that. 

SIMULA: -eyeballs him a little. not that he could tell, given they are pupiless and all. but don't mind them, they're just suspicious of people knowing things about their personal life unless they divulge it.- 

SIMULA: ... Anyway. II have some things II need to do to-day.

FINN: -looks at them for a second and then catches on to what they mean- oh right 

FINN: sofia has a thing -if that thing is being a baby-

SIMULA: -stands quickly to escort him to the door- Then by all means, don't let me keep you.

FINN: -stands and takes Sofia's carrier with him- yeah 

FINN: -heads toward the door- i'll see you later

SIMULA: Yes. -opens the door for him telekinetically.- Give Colt my re-gards.

FINN: -turns to smile before leaving- i will

SIMULA: -DOESNT SMILE.- ... O-K  bye.

FINN: bye -they gone-

[myaekingheart]

15. Complicated

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3

index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

                “This is hands-down the best thing I have ever heard in my entire life!” Naru shrieked, stamping the floor happily. Rei sipped her tea nervously and prayed that her friend would quiet down. She didn’t need the entire village knowing the details of her love life. She glanced around the dango shop and prayed no one else was paying attention. “So when’s the wedding? Do you have invitations picked out yet? Can I be the maid of honor? All of your bridesmaids should wear blue, because blue is the—”

                “Naru, oh my god, stop” Rei interrupted. The blonde blinked a few times, stricken. “Just…calm down for a second, alright? It was one date.”

                Naru waved off the redhead’s comment with a despondent gaze. “Oh shush, I know what I’m talking about. You have this in the bag. I would kill myself if things didn’t work out for you and Kakashi, and they will. I just know they will.”

                “That’s extreme” Rei replied. “I don’t think my relationship with Kakashi is worth suicide over but go hard, I guess.” As much as she appreciated her best friend’s support, Rei had to admit that Naru’s enthusiasm was a little exhausting. Like she said, it was only one date. If it was even that. Despite the arguably romantic nature of their night together, Rei couldn’t truly be sure whether that was what Kakashi had intended. And even if it was, one date didn’t mean anything. Nobody becomes a couple after one night.   

                “So when are you seeing each other again?” Naru then asked. It was the most reasonable question she had posed all day.  

                “I don’t know” Rei said. “I don’t even know what we are to each other at this point. It’s so…complicated.”

                “I don’t see what’s to think about” Naru replied. Just as she spoke, the waitress arrived with their order of dango. Naru slid a dumpling off it’s stick and sighed as she chewed, clearly pleased with her food. “I think it’s safe to say you’re officially off the market, Rei” she added, mouth full.

                Rei shook her head, sliding one of her own dumplings into her mouth. “I still feel nervous around him. I saw him the next morning while the hokage was dishing out missions and it was so awkward, there was this weird energy between us even though we weren’t even looking at each other.”

                “That’s how you know it’s real” Naru commented, waving her now-empty stick at Rei’s face.

                “Oh, how would you know? Have you ever been in love?” Rei asked. It was a valid question. Naru had many escapades but none of them were ever very long-lasting. Then, shaking her head, Rei added, “We never talked about what we are to each other. The only thing ever mentioned was that I was an old friend, and that he missed me. Maybe this is just platonic, maybe we’re just friends and nothing more.”

                “Friends who reserve tables in expensive restaurants and bring meaningful flowers? Yeah, okay” Naru said, unconvinced.

                “It can happen” Rei argued. “Or at least, I’m pretty sure it can.” Deep down, she was starting to grow rather uncomfortable with this topic. She hated not having a definite label for what she and Kakashi actually were. Naru seemed so sure of herself, so confident in her opinion. Rei wished she had felt the same way, but she simply did not want to jump to conclusions. She didn’t want to put her faith in something so fleeting and uncertain. She had already done that one too many times and ended up with nothing short of heartbreak. She was positive her sanity could not handle yet another depressing blow.

                That afternoon, as she returned to her apartment tired and uneasy, she thought of Kakashi. She thought of their night together, replaying every scene in her head ten times over. She cursed herself for being so analytical, but she couldn’t help it. Overthinking was just part of her nature. All she really wanted was to just climb into bed and take a long nap in hopes of erasing all of these wild feelings. And maybe when she woke up, she’d be able to contemplate this further with a clearer mind.

                Reaching her front door, she dug into the pouch at her hip only to find…her key was missing. Shit. She pressed her forehead against the door and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to mentally retrace her steps. She definitely had it when she left that morning, or else she wouldn’t have been able to lock the door. But where she lost it was another matter entirely. Konoha was large, and it could be anywhere. She groaned and slammed a fist against the door, cursing herself for being so stupid.

                “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a voice then spoke from behind. She recognized it immediately: sultry, dark, condescending. Tenshi. “Looks like someone’s having a little trouble! And you call yourself a ninja” she teased.

                Rei clenched her fists at her sides. “Shut up, Tenshi” she growled.

                “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?” she continued. She pouted her lacquered lips and crossed her arms across her chest as if Rei was a child who had stolen one too many cookies from the cookie jar.

                “The hell are you talking about?” Rei asked, finally turning to her.

                “Oh, don’t act so dense” Tenshi replied. “This is payback for the other night.”

                It took Rei only a moment to understand what, exactly, it was that Tenshi was talking about but once she understood, a burning anger rose in her chest. “What did you do with my keys?!” Rei shouted, surging forward. Tenshi stepped out of the line of fire and shook her head innocently.

                “You act like I’m the bad guy!” she pouted. “When really, I did absolutely nothing. This is all a result of your own ignorance.”

                Ignorance. Tenshi knew nothing of ignorance. Rei clenched her fists and her jaw, her anger growing. “Are you really that petty that you would go so far as to think I deserve this just for spending time with a guy?” she asked through gritted teeth.

                “Let’s call it by its name, shall we? You went on a date” Tenshi said condescendingly. “And I’m not very fond of that. I don’t think you quite understand the kinds of games you’re playing here. How many drugs did you have to give him to get him to go out with you?”

                “Uh, none?” Rei replied. “Excuse me for asking, but what kinds of drugs are you on right now? Because clearly there’s no way you’re sober.”

                Tenshi rolled her eyes, flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and straightened her back with a disgusted glare. She was growing impatient, that much was obvious. Rei’s refusal to bend to her will made her squirm. She was like a venomous bug threatening to poison everything in its path, one that needed to be squashed quickly. “Listen here, Red, I’m going to tell it to you plain and simple: Kakashi wants nothing to do with you so give it up. He’s just being polite but at the end of the day, you are nothing compared to what he could have. When I see something I want, I get it, no questions asked, and what I want is him so I suggest you try not to get in my way because I fully intend to get into his pants no matter what.”

                Rei glared back up at her, matching her intensity. “Is sex really all you can think about?” she asked with a disgusted scoff. Really, it was as if she saw men as nothing but toys for pleasure. Fortunately, Rei was a little more intelligent than that. And besides, she had known Kakashi since before she even understood what sex was. To say Rei was driven solely by bodily urges was a vastly inaccurate statement.

                “What else is there to think about?” Tenshi asked. “Is it so wrong to just want to eat a big, fat—”

                “Dumpling?” a voice from behind them interrupted. The two women turned to find none other than the man in question standing before them, a book propped open in his hand. “What seems to be the trouble? If you’re hungry, the sweet shop is right down the street.”

                Tenshi’s face went beet red at the sight of him, her eyes darting down to his pants momentarily. Drive a kunai into my eye sockets, Rei thought to herself. Tenshi, however, quickly composed herself and began her usual routine of accentuating her breasts and trying to act cute and flirtatious. “Wow, I totally forgot! That sounds great right now! You should come with me—those dumplings are so big, I doubt I can eat one all by myself!”

                “Sorry” Kakashi replied bluntly, “I have some unfinished business to take care of, but I’m sure Tenzo down the hall would be happy to go with you.” A soft smile touched his face, showing through his mask in the way his one revealed eye squinted. Tenshi’s face fell and in that moment, Rei felt a sickening sense of pride. Eat that, bitch.  

                “I-I mean…” she stammered, as if grasping for the last little bit of hope she had, “I don’t think Tenzo would, I mean, I don’t know him very well and—”

                “Then this would be a great opportunity!” Kakashi interrupted. “I’m sure he would be happy to go with you.”

                Tenshi blinked, the heat rising in her face, and then glared back at Rei angrily. Perhaps she was finally beginning to understand the conditions on which their date the other night was founded. No matter how hard Tenshi tried, Kakashi simply wasn’t interested in her. After another moment of frustrated stammering and sighing, the brunette groaned and pushed past Kakashi toward her apartment. “Nevermind. I’m not so hungry anymore” she muttered, then slammed her door shut.

                “I wonder what’s gotten into her” Kakashi pondered, turning his attention back to Rei. She shrugged awkwardly, feigning ignorance. They stood there in a moment of awkward silence before Kakashi nodded and then said, “Well, I guess I better be on my way. I have a few things that need some immediate attention.”

                “Right, right” Rei said in agreement. As Kakashi walked away, however, she was reminded of her dilemma. She squeezed the doorknob and sighed softly. She supposed the only option she had was to call the landlord, even if she’d get charged extra for needing the master key. She reached into her pocket for one last look, holding out the tiniest bit of hope, but to no avail. Before she could do anything else, however, Kakashi cleared his throat and she looked up to find him standing before her.

                “By the way” he said, reaching into his own pouch. “I found this in the street and realized you might be missing it.” Then, in front of her face, he held up her very own apartment key.

                “H-how did you--?” she stammered, but Kakashi shook his head and dropped it into her hands.

                “No need to thank me” he said, turning on his heels and heading back toward his own apartment. Without looking back, he waved his hand dismissively and said “Consider it a friendly favor.”

                Friendly favor. The phrase stuck in Rei’s head, triggering another round of questions about what they were to each other now. She wanted to call after him, to ask him about it, but he had already shut his front door. She knew she could’ve just walked over there and knocked but she didn’t want to seem desperate. There was a barrier here that she was not about to cross lest she misinterpret the situation. No, for now she was forced to remain uncertain about the whole thing. Perhaps everything would even out eventually, or else maybe they were just destined to live the entire rest of their lives like this: always on the precipice but never falling over the edge. Truthfully, Rei wasn’t all too fond of living in perpetual uncertainty but she wasn’t sure she was prepared for the certain, either. Upon entering her apartment, she tossed her keys onto her desk and flopped face-first onto her bed with a groan. She thought back to her conversation with Naru earlier in the dango shop. Her statement about her relationship status couldn’t have been truer. This really was so…complicated.