#and she outright admitted she didn’t actually care about the dog. i wanted to take the handler aside and be like ‘she doesn’t live with me

[britts-galaxy-brain]

Being a kiwi farmer is not a “tiny” thing to latch onto. It was an awful thing to do that created a liability for yourself and those around you. I didn’t mean to give you a false sense of security. You're very lucky that all that’s come from this is a few ranting anons. My point was that you shouldn’t allow yourself to spiral. It leads you to saying dumb things that make you look even worse. I’m glad you're taking a break. I don’t know if your personal stuff is clouding your judgment, but you need to fix your perspective.

Yknow...I really don't like throwing around the phrase "virtue signaling" because I feel it's overused (incorrectly most of the time), but this right here is an excellent example of it.

I fully understand the immediate ick reaction people may have upon learning I interacted there for any reason. Now that I know the site's full reputation, the suspicion is warranted.

However, I have been fully transparent about my presence on that site for a long time. People know I lurk the thread, and they know I've contributed information to it. And now they know the sorts of things being said by me and others on that thread.

If you'd had a problem with my conduct on the site, that'd be worth being upset over. If I'd been on there skulking around participating and condoning shit behavior, that would be worth being upset over.

But I didn't. The way I conducted myself there is the same way I conduct myself here. I don't condone bigoted speech, I don't participate in it, and I push back against it when I feel I have a good argument to make. Yet you've been up in my inbox insisting that my very PRESENCE on that site is somehow the worst possible thing I could ever do. You don't care about the context or what I actually said or did, just me being on one specific thread is an "awful thing that created a liability for others".

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Lily Orchard has admitted outright to me that she's attracted to children (see my chat logs). Lily Orchard has created multiple works involving child sexual abuse (fanfictions, games, etc). Lily Orchard has porn accounts full of depictions of children, and at least one of those accounts had graphic depictions of HURTCORE. Lily Orchard has admitted publicly and privately that she wants to sexually abuse dogs.

I do not care who knows about her. Every-fucking-body should know about her. She deserves to be watched at all times until she is removed from the internet one way or another. Lily Orchard is an active danger to the people around her and the only reason she hasn't directly offended yet (that we know of) is because she has eyes on her.

How can you sit there and tell me I'M the one who needs to get perspective here?

[fingertipsmp3]

We literally can’t take my grandma ✨anywhere✨

[chaos-burst]

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

*

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

*

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

*

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

*

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

*

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got  a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

[dynyamight]

here’s a concept: deku, a farmer boy goes out to the Wild West and encounters a cowboy kacchan. deku teaches cowboy kacchan to plant corn and take care of chickens. they then become close. after that they marry and are known at the “maize buckaroo duo.”

(this is so random hshshshsh. but the idea just sparked outta nowhere ;33)

i offer you, farmer!deku x cowboy!bkg you give concept. i create fanfic. ;33 i luv this idea & ilysm

—

When Midoriya registers the fast, loud gallops outside, hitting and snapping down on the ground, he ceases his movement, before smiling hard.

The Monday morning has just started, and already there’s excitement in his chest. Those familiar sounds gave him the absolute flutters.

However, that excitement drops. Daisy huffs, back kicking at the milk bucket in an annoyed fit. Midoriya hurriedly picks it up, before all their shared, hard efforts were to go down the hay. Literally.

“Sorry, sorry!” Midoriya urges the cow, quickly smacking his wet hands on the folded towel on his knee. Then, resting a short calm palm on her snout, he whispers reassuringly, “You did amazing, today. Let’s get you back on the field.”

After setting the bucket aside, Midoriya takes the rope around Daisy in one hand, and lifts open the gate with the other. Together, they slowly make their way out of the stables, more or less. Daisy steps on Midoriya’s heels, hurrying him up.

However, stepping outside, Midoriya already knows to turn to his left, instead of his right at the gated grass field. From the sounds he heard inside, he bets on seeing Dynamite, first.

And, sure enough, turning around the corner of the stables, the proudful stallion meets his eyes, neighing a loud greeting over his way. Midoriya halts Daisy and offers a small wave back.

There’s a small jolt from Dynamite, before he starts walking, at a quick pace over towards Midoriya. Finally, that’s when Midoriya sees Bakugou, riding on the back of the horse, the finest, leather saddle equipped.

Midoriya shakes his head, smiling up. “Surprising to see you, so soon. It’s not even sunrise, Kacchan.”

“How fucking rude,” Bakugou clicks his tongue, before stopping Dynamite’s steps with a small pull. He tips his black, cowboy hat down, though barely. “Not even a damn ‘morning’ my way.”

“You’re never one for pleasantries, anyway.” Midoriya teases, pointing at his hat. “You didn’t do a full tip, you know.”

“Tch, you ain’t special.” Bakugou huffs, “Be grateful.”

Taking a few steps forward, Midoriya pats the side of Dynamite’s face. “Good morning, boy! How are you, on this fine early day?” He holds in the laugh, glancing at the scowl Bakugou sends his way.

Dynamite doesn’t give any cues of delight. But, by the way Midoriya feels the stallion lower his head, and press firmly against his hand, it’s not too far-fetched to assume he loves the touch.

On the other hand, Bakugou swats at Midoriya, face twisted in disgust. “Gross! I don’t want that fucking creature’s juices all over him.”

Behind Midoriya, Daisy stomps on the ground. ‘The field, remember?’ Midoriya imagines her quip. And, from the wagging of her tail, she’s losing her patience. Quickly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bakugou sneers aloud, speaking directly at Daisy, “Say whatever you want. But, I ain’t wanting your spoiled cheese on my damn horse.”

“That’s not what she’s upset about.” Midoriya deadpans. “And, what? Can’t handle milk, out of all things?”

“Milk that came straight out of her tit.”

“Where else would it come from? Trees?”

“Whatever, I just don’t want that shit on my horse, for fuck’s sake.”

Though, they couldn’t argue anymore about it. With a strong force, Daisy begins to pull Midoriya away, forgoing staying another second away from her beloved grass.

Fortunately, for Midoriya’s heart, Bakugou cues Dynamite to follow, trailing right next to them. “Damn, she reminds me of my hag. So fucking dramatic.”

“Your hag?” Midoriya questions, tossing a curious head over. “Is she your dog?” He guesses.

“My mom.” Bakugou corrects, nonchalantly.

Midoriya supposes the open expression of shock wasn’t concealed well, because Bakugou lets out a laugh, turning away with a fist to his mouth. “You’re such a mama’s boy.” He snickers. It leaves Midoriya red in the face.

It’s just he would never call his mother anything, but an absolute blessing. He loves her, dearly.

The moment they step onto the wide, open area of the field, Daisy tosses her head, wanting the rope around her neck off. Hushing her quiet and still, Midoriya loosens off the knot, allowing the loop to widen, and finally, pulling it over her head, free.

As Daisy trots away, passing through the sheep and goats, Midoriya’s surprised to see Bakugou pulling himself off Dynamite. Landing smoothly on his feet, leather boots shiny with clean spurs, Bakugou fixes his hat, showcasing more of his face.

His red meets green. “Nice farm you got building.” He compliments. “An improvement from before.”

Midoriya nudges him, with a dull elbow jab. “Stop, It looks the same.”

“That ain’t true.” Bakugou firmly states. “Two months ago, this place had nothing.”

“Well, it’s still not enough to open a public business.” Midoriya sighs, readjusting the straps of his brown overalls. ”I might have to pull out another loan, in order to afford some harvest equipment for my corn.”

“Tch, that’s why you should join the rodeos.” Bakugou insists, crossing his arms to his chest. “It’s the easiest way to make money, here. Good money.”

Midoriya looks back at Bakugou, unimpressed. “Says the state champion.”

Dynamite snorts, conveniently in tune to Midoriya’s mock. It causes a slight reddening in Bakugou’s face. He quickly turns back to his horse, munching on the grass. “Shut it.”

“Anyways, I’ll find a way. Rodeo, or not.” Midoriya continues, yawning in between his words.

“Geez, where’s your damn etiquette.”

“Left it back home. With all my sins and exes.” Midoriya teases, outright. And, despite the smack over his head hurting, Midoriya can’t help, but laugh. “I’m serious!”

“You’re so annoying.” Bakugou grumbles, digging one of his spurs on the ground. “Bringing up stupid shit.”

Midoriya shrugs, still rubbing the back of head. “I promise you, I was a lady killer, where I’m from.”

“Killing those poor, innocent ladies with your bad breath.”

Immediately, Midoriya raises a hand over his mouth, puffing out an air. Though, all he can smell really, is Daisy.

God, did that mean his breath smells like Daisy? The cow?

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Gullible Deku.” He simply states. “Your breath s’fine.”

Midoriya groans, and he tries to smack Bakugou back over the head. Though, Bakugou dodges his hand easily, leaning away.

“Making fun of a farmer on his own bought land, is an insult to his pride.” Midoriya huffs, taking back his hand.

“What are you going to do about it?” Bakugou mocks, a grin forming against his lips. “Make me work? Not a chance.”

With a lightbulb feeling running through his mind, Midoriya absolutely loves the off handed suggestion. “Actually, yes! You can help me feed the chickens!”

Turning his heels quickly, Midoriya smiles at the absolute panic in Bakugou’s voice. “Hah? What the— No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!” Midoriya sings aloud, taking quick steps towards the gate. “C’mon, hurry up, now! Leave Dynamite out on the grass!” He calls out, as he opens the gates, and goes into a full sprint out.

By the time he reaches the stables, goes to his feeding cabinet, shelves crowded with plastic containers and bags of nutrients for his livestock and crops, and grabs onto the chicken feed, Bakugou has begrudgingly made his way inside.

“It smells.” Bakugou complains.

“Suck it up.” Midoriya laughs, before taking a plastic bowl off the shelves and setting it down on the counter. He pours the feed inside. “I bet the rodeos smell just as bad.”

“They don’t.”

“Well, you’re being paid to say that.”

Bakugou walks over to him, standing by his side. He leans on the counter, as Midoriya lifts the feed bag back into the cabinet. “If they did, I wouldn’t do them.” Bakugou states, narrowing his eyes. “Simple as that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Before Bakugou can insist otherwise, Midoriya pushes the bowl into his hands. He holds back a laugh, when Bakugou almost drops it completely. “Now, let’s head to the coop, shall we?”

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou grimaces. “S’too fucking early for this.”

“Hey, you’re the one who showed up.” Midoriya reminds him, as they walk to the back of the stables, where the clucks of the chickens resound louder. “Which, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s with the sudden visit? Forgot to buy eggs, from yesterday's pick up?”

“Does it matter?” Bakugou questions, instead.

That takes Midoriya aback. “I mean, not really. But, we never meet on the weekdays.” He admits softly. He takes a moment away, to crack open at the tall, wooden gate at the end of the hall.

The chickens weren’t too active, thankfully. Several of them are still sitting perched and hidden inside the coop. Otherwise, only a few were already walking around outside the coop, clucking aimlessly.

Midoriya feels Bakugou lean close to him. When he looks, he notices a chicken had passed by Bakugou’s boots, with no pay to mind. However, Bakugou was visibly losing his mind.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared.” Midoriya smiles.

Bakugou scowls, glaring right down at him. “They got bacteria. Sick motherfuckers.”

For a cowboy, Bakugou has a keen distaste for getting unnecessarily dirty. It never fails to surprise Midoriya. “Well, just wash your clothes when you get back home.”

“I got other shit to do after, you know.” Bakugou growls.

“Again,” Midoriya sighs, “You’re the one who chose to be here. I’m simply utilizing you.”

As Midoriya leads Bakugou over to the coop, he grumbles under his breath. “Gonna have to pull another loan, if you want me working for your ass.”

Rolling his eyes, he ignores the silly comment, and instead gestures at Bakugou to start throwing the feed at the nearby chickens, surrounding the coop. When he stares back, confused, Midoriya remembers the guy’s not a farmer in the slightest. “Start throwing the feed.”

Bakugou hurriedly starts tossing small amounts. “I knew that. Thought you were gonna say something else.”

It’s hard to imagine what else an open hand in air would mean, but nevertheless Midoriya doesn’t argue. The chickens awake are already bustling over, surrounding the dropped feed in seconds.

Taking a handful from the bowl, Midoriya kneels down, going close to the small crowd of chickens. He notices some of them quickly waddle over to him, instead of feed dropped on the ground. The few that come to him peck at his hand, and it floods warmth to Midoriya’s heart.

“They prefer off the hand, huh.” Bakugou comments above him.

“I would like to think that they like me, but sure.” In seconds, the feed’s all gone, and the chickens wait around him for more.

“You should kneel down, too.” Midoriya offers gently to Bakugou, making sure his voice doesn’t startle the creatures. “Feed them off your hand.”

There’s an obvious hesitation, before Bakugou gets low, kneeling next to Midoriya.

One of the chickens tries to reach into the bowl in hands, in which he pulls it away quickly. “I’m getting fucking attacked already.”

“They’re eager.” Midoriya insists.

Dipping his hand into the bowl, Bakugou raises a handful of his own. He whips his head to Midoriya, glaring. “If my hand bleeds, I demand a lawyer to prosecute you.”

They don’t even hurt that bad. Though, telling Bakugou that would probably have him second guess everything. Hence, Midoriya shakes his head. “You won’t.”

Within a few seconds of only impatient clucking surrounding them, Bakugou finally puts his hand out. In seconds, the chickens start to peck at his hand, picking up all the feed quickly.

Midoriya stares at Bakugou. He’s cursing them out, demanding them to stop pecking so hard, for fuck’s sake. And, despite the apparent discomfort from the first handful, Bakugou goes for another handful, offering his hand once more.

Again, the cussing ensues, but it’s still all Bakugou’s free will. He could have stopped at the first hand, but he didn’t. Instead, he’s still kneeling next to Midoriya, feeding these silly, rambunctious chickens.

When Bakugou definitely had better things to do.

“Why did you show up?” Midoriya asks once more, standing up. The chickens have already departed, as Bakugou had tossed the rest of the feed from the bowl, out in the open. “You only buy my products on Sunday’s.”

“Why do you keep asking.” Bakugou reflects back, opening the wooden gate open for Midoriya.

Midoriya steps in front of him, back inside the stables. Once inside, hearing the wooden gate close, he turns around, facing him. “You know, I’m not letting you off, without hearing what’s on your mind.” He softly smiles.

Bakugou stares back at him. And, for an odd moment, his eyes scan all over his face, jittering, until they cease. “You’re making this a big deal, Deku. Just wanted to check up on the farm.”

Ah, that does make sense. “Oh my— Then, why didn’t you say that earlier!" Midoriya laughs.

Bakugou shrugs. “Again, it’s not a big deal. Now, where’s the damn sink?”

Midoriya leads them back to the entrance of the stables, where the sink was, alongside various cleaning supplies perched on shelves. They wash their hands, in silence.

They don’t say much either, when they head back to the grass field, to pick up Dynamite. Though, Midoriya doesn’t mind the silence. Bakugou has a limit to his social battery, and Midoriya has grown to know when it’s time to give him his quiet and peace.

After Bakugou sits back up on Dynamite, and they walk back to the open road, around the corner of the stables, he slightly pulls the reins, causing the stallion to come to a stop. It causes Midoriya to look up, wondering if the cowboy forgot something, back in the stables.

Instead, there’s a slight flush in his cheeks. He coughs loudly, clearing nothing in his throat. “There’s a rodeo this Friday.”

Midoriya waits for the rest, but instead Bakugou says nothing else. “Oh, uh, okay? Will you be participating?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou simply utters.

Again, nothing else is said. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, then.” Midoriya offers, despite the confusion in his mind.

“Are you—” Bakugou stops, inaudibly grumbling under his breath. “I mean, the rodeo ain’t too far from here.”

“Oh!” Midoriya’s genuinely surprised, “Who would have thought? That’s a shocker.”

“Yeah. You could go, even.”

“I’m not joining rodeos. No matter how many times you demand.” Midoriya laughs.

“No, to watch.” Bakugou corrects, though the moment he slips the words, it suddenly causes his entire face to go red. “Fuck, I mean, you could watch. Other riders, and competitors, or whatever the fuck.”

Midoriya can’t seem to understand where Bakugou’s coming from. This cowboy wants him, a new residential farmer, to watch a rodeo. A rodeo, which he has never seen in his entire life.

Though, if Bakugou’s asking, Midoriya’s heart will always simply agree. “I’ll go watch, then.” He reassures him, “And, I guess I’ll cheer you on, if you’re any good.”

Bakugou’s face calms, though there’s still a stiffness in his shoulders. “Cool.”

Midoriya thinks he wants to say something more, but instead Bakugou brings his thighs closer to Dynamite, squeezing him slightly. Instantly, Dynamite starts trouting off.

Before he can call out, Bakugou looks back at him. “Starts at 7 in the afternoon! Don’t be fucking late!”

And, just with a small kick, Dynamite starts racing off on the road, Bakugou leaving Midoriya only with his thoughts.

There’s not a lot of information about the rodeo, though Midoriya knows he will most definitely ask around for the rest of the details. Essentially, it’s a nearby rodeo, that starts at 7PM. Surely, there are others in town that know where exactly is the event.

Midoriya can’t help, but drift his focus away from the rodeo, and back to Bakugou’s distant figure. Against the morning sunrise, he looks so cool.

But, a farmer like him, attracted to a cowboy like Bakugou, is so embarrassing.

[cinnaminsvga]

intermission • vi | moonlight

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jungkook) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none!! it's just jungkook being a cutie!! → words: 3.7K → a/n: this intermission chapter was actually written by @jincherie!! i'm posting it on her behalf since she's currently on hiatus. she had this chapter mostly finished a few months ago and we were waiting to post it until we were both more active (lol) but yeah... things change i guess... anyway see you guys next year (i wanna say /j but really... is it really /j...)

— • masterlist | prev | intermission vi | next • —

Jungkook's strength has never been making friends.

In his mother’s words, a “pleasant and sweet boy” though he might be, that didn’t help much when it came to meeting someone new and the storm of butterflies in his stomach would grow so strong that it froze his limbs and caught his tongue. He’s not too good at first impressions.

A “pleasant and sweet, but terribly shy boy” is actually more along the lines of how Jungkook’s mother describes him, now that he thinks about it. That’s probably a little more accurate.

The sprawling complex he lives in is full of kids, and Jungkook knows each and every one of them. He might be challenged in the social area, but his mother is anything but. She says he takes more after his father, and since his father is usually relaxing inside and reading or drawing when Jungkook sees him at home, he figures that makes enough sense.

Every time someone new moves into the complex, Jungkook’s mother goes to greet them. Of course, he is graciously asked (read: forced) to come along too, just in case they have any kids around his age. This is how he normally meets the other kids on the block. It’s fine, he can’t complain. He has to admit it’s nice meeting all the new and different people that come through. His family is probably one of the ones that have stayed in the complex this long.

When the house next door is emptied of the family he knew, it’s a while before the next one comes in. By the time Jungkook peeks out his window one morning, woken by the telltale sound of a truck beeping as it reverses, and finally sees some movement in the house next to his own, his mother isn’t home. She’d moved into the hospital just a few days earlier, looking ready to pop with the little brother he’d heard so much about in her belly. He’s excited to meet his little brother, and now as he stands on his tippy-toes to get a good look from the window, he finds himself a little excited to meet the new neighbours, too.

It only has a little bit to do with the great, big, fluffy dog they have. Just a little.

It takes a few days for them to move in fully. Jungkook watches from his window every now and then, seeing all sorts of different cars come through. This family has lots of helpers, he notices. By the time they seem to really settle in, Jungkook doesn’t see much of them. Actually, to his disappointment, he doesn’t see anyone around at all. He still hears the dog, glimpses it every so often, but realised that they probably walk it in the mornings before he wakes up.

His mother is home before long, his baby brother cradled in her arms. The first thing she asks as she steps through the door is, “Have the new neighbours moved in? Have you met them yet, Kookie?”

This is perhaps the first time all week he hasn’t cared about the neighbours-- he’s transfixed with his brother. It stays that way for a few days, until the allure wears off when the tiny baby won’t stop crying at night. Perhaps his little brother is something best loved from afar for now, Jungkook surmises.

Back to the window he goes – except this time, there’s actually something to see.

There’s a child! A combination of nerves and excitement bubbles within him as he sees a kid in the backyard playing with the dog, throwing a Frisbee for the massive puppy to leap up and catch in its mouth. The kid looks a little…. feral. Like the baby from that one funny caveman movie he watched with his parents. They’re rolling around with the puppy, uncaring of the way grass and dirt get on their clothes and tangle their hair-- they laugh the whole time. It takes a second for the sound to reach him, but when it does it makes his heart do something funny in his chest.

Ah, the neighbour's kid is a girl.

It’s you.

Jungkook has always been a little more shy around girls, but has never known why. To meet you, he’s going to need his mother there for backup. This is probably the first time he’s outright wanted to go meet one of the neighbours. It’s a little embarrassing, so he elects not to think about it too much.

He thought he would have to pester his mother more to get up and go greet them, but it seems she’s a little sick of being in the house so much because she jumps up the second he mentions it. His baby brother is graciously asleep when they make the trip one morning to the house next door, nestled in his mothers arms looking like an angel wrapped up in fluffy clouds. Jungkook wonders if you’ll like his brother as much as he does. If you don’t, then he doesn’t know how good of a friend you’re going to be.

The doorbell is different, it’s the first thing he notices about the house. Your family must have changed it when you moved in. It’s a bubbly, fun tune now, and he doesn’t even realise the smile it brings to his face. His grip on his mother’s hand tightens, but he misses the fond look she casts over him.

When the door opens, Jungkook thinks his nerves just might eat him alive. He’s so stiff he’s worried he might turn to stone and disintegrate into dust on the spot.

It’s you who answered the door.

You don’t look as wild and unkempt as you did that day he saw you from the window. Actually, your hair is in two cute little buns on top of your head and there isn’t a spot of dirt or grime on your overalls.

The way your eyes light up when you see him and his mother, as well as the baby held to her chest, is enough to make him forget to breathe for a moment. When he remembers, he feels like running his head into the pole of the awning.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mother greets, that big smile on her face that normally wins everyone over. “We’re from the house next door! We wanted to come say hello and meet you. Are one of your parents home too?”

“Hello!” Your response is instant, and the smile you return is so big Jungkook can easily see the gap where you’re missing a tooth. It seems like you’re beating him, he hasn’t lost that one yet. “Yeah, my mama’s home-- you should come in! She said she wanted to meet you guys! Oh, also, we have a puppy! She’s big, and actually maybe she’s too old to be a puppy but… she’s cute. I want you to see her!”

You’re rambling, but you don’t seem to realise. Jungkook couldn’t get a word in edgewise if he wanted to, but he finds himself more than happy to simply listen as he and his mother follow you into the house.

Your mother isn’t as wild as you, but he notices the same little sparkle in her eyes that you have in yours. He wonders if he and his mother have their own matching sparkle. That would be cool.

Right away, his mother hits it off with yours – two socialites of a feather, it seems. You fawn over his baby brother for a few minutes while they talk (he knew right then that you were a good one), before grabbing him by the sleeve and insisting on showing him around. You get a full tour in, and miraculously Jungkook finds it in himself to ask a few questions as you go.

“S-so, you like it? Here?” Every time he opens his mouth the words don’t come out how he wants them, but he can’t do anything now. At least he only stuttered once.

“Yes! It’s so much better than my old house! There’s so many more kids here, and they’re all so nice too!” You’re more than happy to blabber on, a hand thoughtlessly carding through the long, fluffy fur on your dog’s back. Jungkook’s own hand is doing the same (the fur is just as soft and fluffy as he imagined). “There’s more room for Poopie to play, too.”

Jungkook still isn’t quite used to the name of your pet, but something more important in what you said is taking hold of his attention. “Wait, you, uh… you’ve met some of the other kids?”

“Yep,” you say, gaze off in the distance as you try to summon them all from your memory. “Not all of them, but some! Um, I think one of them is named…. Chanyeol…? He lives down the street. Then there’s-- …”

A queasy feeling fills his stomach. He thinks it might be disappointment. For some reason, he thought he was going to come in here and be the first kid you met, that he was going to tell you all about the complex, maybe show you down the street. If you turned out to be a real good egg, then he had even planned to show you his secret place. But now that he thinks about it, it’s a bit silly to think that none of the other families would have come to greet you by now. You’ve been here for more than a week, after all.

He had a good time when visiting you, but for some reason after that day, he finds himself hanging back a bit. He wants to go out and play with you and the other kids, but when he sees you getting along with them so well he’s reminded of that queasy feeling from that day and he stays inside. Which, oddly enough, makes him feel even worse. He feels like no matter what he does, he’s losing progress with you. Maybe you won’t even want to play with him at all, you might think he’s boring after having so much fun with the other kids.

“You gonna go out and play, Kookie?” his mother catches him staring out the living room window one afternoon. She’s bouncing his brother on her hip, the demon baby sated for the time being. “There’s still plenty of time before dark.”

“No, I’m okay,” he answers, hating himself a little bit for it. Why was it so hard to say that yes, he wanted to play, but also that he didn’t. He thinks his mother would be able to help, but he has no idea how to tell her his woes. “I think I might draw a little.”

“Okay, sweets.” She comes over and ruffles his hair. “But if you do decide to go out and play, just let me know so I know where you are, okay?”

He nods, and she leans to kiss his hair before wandering back into the depths of the house. Maybe he will do some drawing, he ponders. It might distract him from the sight of you getting along so well with all the other kids.

Jungkook’s strength has never lain in being outgoing. This proves itself over the months when his attempts to grow closer and befriend you turn out unsuccessful, without fail.

You’ve made a good space for yourself amongst the kids of the block. You’re nice, caring and understanding, and never mean – sure you pushed Chanyeol off the seesaw once, but that was because he was being mean to Suzie. He didn’t do it again afterwards, and peace was maintained in the playground in the park at the end of the complex. Your friendship is sought-after, and with the beginning of the school year looming so close he’s running out of time to establish a friendship between the two of you.

When he spends an afternoon riding his bike at the end of the street, looping around and through the park, it’s definitely not just because you’re sitting there with some of the other girls on the block. When he summons all the knowledge stored in his brain from watching those bike tournaments and attempts to do a little trick, it’s definitely not because he thinks you might be watching. If you happen to see and think he’s cool, then it is what it is. It’s not like he’s actually trying to impress you or anything.

It goes okay, for the most part. His legs are a little tired though. He probably shouldn't attempt the trick he’s thinking of next, but he swears he sees you glance his way and he feels a surge of confidence flow through him. He attempts it.

He botches it.

The bike clatters to the ground and he rolls a bit, but his knees take the brunt of his meeting with the concrete path.

Lucky he wasn’t trying to impress you, because that was pretty humiliating. Lucky you probably didn’t see, either. His knees burn and he feels tears prick at his eyes, probably not just from the pain. He feels so embarrassed, so dumb. He’s touched his bike five times since he got it for his birthday last year, why did he think he would be able to do awesome tricks on it? Dumb, so dumb. He flees the scene before anyone can notice what happened, and completely forgets his bike.

He’s made it all the way home before he even realises it, his vision blurred from the tears that just won’t stop falling and his knees still singing in pain each time he bends them. He almost goes inside, craving a hug from his mother and her gentle hands on his wounds, but then he realises she would ask what happened, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to tell her. It’s too embarrassing. He’s so embarrassed.

So he bypasses the front door, going around the side and slipping through the gate. There’s a tree that lines the side of the house where his window is, and it’s so tall it reaches well above the roof. Without pause, he climbs it, hands finding familiar grooves. He halts, hissing at the sudden sting – it would seem he’s scraped up his palms, too. His eyes burn with the added humiliation and he darts up the tree, making quick work of the climb until he reaches his special spot.

The roof of his house is mostly slanted, but there’s a flat bit at the very top on one side of the house. This is where he likes to go. No one ever looks for him here, plus the view is always very pretty. He doesn’t appreciate the sunset right now, though. He feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

The whole way home, Jungkook held in his cries. He didn’t want anyone to hear and tell his mother. But now, in the embrace of his little ‘safe haven’, he lets them out. He buries his head in his arms and sobs, the pain of moving his palms only making it worse.

He doesn’t know how his little body can handle so much embarrassment, let alone so many tears, but for the moment he doesn’t think about it and surrenders himself to his woes.

He must be up there for a while before his crying ceases. By the time he lifts his head, the last of his tears drying against his cheeks, the sun is just beginning to disappear beyond the horizon. It’s pretty, how it casts light around the shadowy silhouette of the city buildings in the distance. He kind of wants to show it to you. That thought is quickly shut down. He’s going to ask his mother if they can move cities so he doesn’t have to face you again.

Alas, the world just doesn’t seem to be working in his favour today. He hears the rustling of the tree before he sees it. By the time he looks over to investigate, you’re already clambering onto the roof, an oversized fanny pack bursting at the seams with whatever you’ve shoved inside slung over your shoulder.

“Hey!” You greet with a smile, apparently oblivious to the dumbstruck look on his face. “Man, it took forever to find you! If I didn’t see you from the window in my room, I never would have known where you went!”

That was the idea, he laments. He hadn’t wanted to be found.

“Anyway,” you say, plopping down a foot away from him, safely away from the edge of the roof. You swing the fanny pack around so the zip is at your front, and rip it open. Immediately, a tsunami of bandages and band-aids flow forth, fluttering to the tile before you. They’re all sorts of different sizes, but one thing is common across them all – they all have pikachu’s face plastered on them in one way or another. “These are my special band-aids! My mama uses them when I hurt myself, and they always make it heal really quick! I didn’t know how big your owie is, so I brought them all.”

Jungkook is still stunned into silence as you sort through them, organising the chaos at least a little. One of your buns has come loose, he notes. One pigtail, one bun. You look a little more like that wild child he first saw from his window. The knees of your overalls are smeared with dirt, too. He wonders if it got like that while you were looking for him. It makes him feel a little warm inside.

And a little warm outside – his cheeks are starting to burn. He doesn’t remember scratching them too, but maybe he did…?

“Let’s see…” you’re practically just holding a conversation with yourself at this point. He surrenders his leg without protest as you grab it to inspect his knee. “Yep. That’s a big ‘un.”

His whole face has lit on fire. Even his ears feel hot. Is that normal? Probably not. He’d have to ask his mother to take him to the doctor. Maybe he’s dying.

He notices how close you are suddenly, realises this is the first time you’ve been fully alone together (without Poopie), and suddenly he can’t think. Like, at all. He may as well not have a tongue because he can’t remember how to use it anyway.

Somewhere amongst the bandages you’d shoved some tissues. You pull them out now, gently clearing the dirt away from the wounds on his knees. You’re talking as you do it, but his brain is full of static. Your hands are even tinier than his. Is that normal? Wait, no-- they’re the same size. What is he doing…?

Is he going to get in trouble for being alone with a girl…? His mother hasn’t told him about the birds and bees like she said she would yet-- is that what this is? Will he turn into a bird if he gets any warmer? Jungkook doesn’t want to be a bird.

You are placing large plasters over his knees when he finally tunes in to what you’re saying. “… -that last trick was pretty cool, too. It would have been even cooler if you didn’t fall.”

Jungkook squeaks, “You saw that?”

You nod, apparently unaware of his utter humiliation. “Yeah! You’re pretty good on a bike. Can you teach me sometime? I want to show my dad.”

He makes a noise that sounds enough like an affirmation that you accept it, a big grin on your face. For a few more minutes, you finish patching him up.

“There! All done!”

Pikachu stares back up at him from his knees, looking a little wonky because of their shape. The band-aids are a bit wrinkled, but you look so proud of yourself he forces himself to ignore it. He looks up, the words of thanks he took so much courage to summon dying on the tip of his tongue as he sees you.

The setting sun changes the colour of your eyes a bit – it’s pretty, he finds himself thinking. Immediately afterwards, he blushes. Even more embarrassingly, he finds himself unable to help but observe that the sun suits you, actually. Bright, persistent, a little bit sparkly. In the sun’s last reaching rays of afternoon light, you look a bit like you’re glowing.

Of course, Jungkook is used to his silence, but it seems you’re only just noticing it. You seem to misunderstand it’s cause. “Oh, do they hurt?”

Your words tear him from his reverie, and the startled look on his face doesn’t exactly help his case. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise they were that bad-- oh! I almost forgot the next step! My mum always does this whenever I hurt myself.”

Then, without a second spared for him to prepare himself, you lean over and plant a kiss on each of his bandaged knees.

Jungkook thinks he might explode. The entire neighbourhood is going to see him take off and zip through the sky like a rocket. His earlier thoughts of moving cities and changing his name come back full force.

“There, they hurt less now, right?” But you’re still grinning, still bright as ever with shining eyes hoping for a certain response. Despite himself he takes a moment to assess the level of pain he’s feeling – oddly enough, it does feel a bit better.

There’s no way he can manage to say that, though.

Instead he nods, wide-eyed. You let loose a sigh of relief, muttering about how you didn’t know what you’d do if that didn’t work. He swears he catches the slightest warmth in your cheeks, but doesn’t know whether it’s a trick of the sun.

“Thanks,” he finally manages, his voice just shy of a whisper. You hear him anyway and flash that gap-tooth smile his way.

“Of course! This is what friends are for!”

You think of him as a friend? Jungkook can’t help the dumb smile that rises to his face. He likes that. Friends. As the two of you stay on the roof until moonlight begins to filter through the tree and your parents are calling your name, he thinks he’d like for things to stay that way.

He’d like to be friends with you. Always.

[violetnotez]

Hawks x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 5300+

⤷ Warnings: mild cursing

⤷ Synopsis:  Hawks is completely head over heels when he meets the new side kick of Mirko, y/n, hero name Angel. After meeting y/n, Hawks begs Mirko to train the young hero himself, and starts a friendly relationship with her. But now Hawks wants to take it to the next level, and what better than a milkshake date to make her his.

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event!

Bingo Slot: Milkshake Date

This is my first time writing for Hawks, so hopefully its not too ooc! Also Im sorry if its kinda wordy? I feel like I just kinda went overboard!

Hawks sighed, his hands cradling  his head lazily in boredom.

Another mind numbing meeting to suffocate his precious hours.

It was hard not to be a little annoyed at these weekly hero meetings he was somehow tangled up into. He could be doing so much more with this time, like working on his own missions or even catching up on some very over do paperwork. But With the LOV and other various villain organizations on the rise, the heroes have noticed that now more than ever, citizens are desperate for some stability and reassurance from their beloved heroes. So, with the help of various hero agencies, they had devised a plan to have heroes patrolling the streets frequently, way more frequently than before to promote the image that “the heroes were in control” and “more powerful than ever before.”

What a load of crap that was.

Hawks fought the urge to roll his eyes and interrupt this pompous executive who had the nerve to preach to heroes, and the top rated ones at that. He was amused looking around, seeing how many well known heroes were still attending these obnoxious meetings-every one in the top 20  was in this room, including Endeavor and Mirko. That was typical for these heroes, since approval ratings were so important, but today was a little different. The size of the group had expanded, the seats now occupied with a few lower rank heroes, a couple sidekicks, and a few newbies that were gaining some popularity.

Hawks watched as the stiff looking executive pushed his glasses back to his nose tightly, a small cough clearing his throat.

“Now, I think it would be a wise time for all the newest joining heroes in our mission of peace to stand and say a few words,”

Oh great-now it was show and tell.

Hawks was  fighting the urge to outright humiliate this man in front of him for wasting so much of his time- it wasn't quite in his nature to keep his mouth shut. But, he had to admit that this was partially his fault: he had volunteered to be a part of this, and he had to respect the commitment he signed up for.

The man turnd to his right, his eyes trained on the Rabbit Hero herself.

“Miruko, would you like to introduce your sidekick first?” he asked, his voice monotone and serious.

Hawks instantly perked up at the man’s statement- so Miruko did bring along her sidekick? 

He had heard a little about the stir Miruko had worked up in the media when she announced she had a new sidekick. Miruko has notoriously built the image of “working alone”, so the fact she had taken on a new partner had thrown everyone in quite a loop. He personally wasn’t quite interested in digging himself too into the dramatic headlines, he was way too busy for that, but from the bits and pieces he heard, you showed promise.

Your quirk was powerful, you were great with civilians, and you were pretty efficient in battle. He was mutually intrigued by you, especially since your introduction was the one thing he found remotely interesting in this whole meeting.

Miruko grinned devilishly, her red eyes gleaming. 

“Sure thing,” she answered good naturally, her tough body standing up to introduce the person beside her. “As you all know by now, this is my new side kick-Angel,”

Oh and what a angel you were.

Hawks was completely enraptured by you, his eyes widening as he watched you stand up, your face coated in an incident look of nervousness and your pretty lips formed in a shy smile.

Man, if he knew how drop dead gorgeous you were, he would have made you his sidekick. 

He rested his head deeper into his gloved hand, a quiet whistle escaping his lips. 

And that hero suit wasn’t too bad either- your hero costume was sexy yet sleek, with a plunging white neckline and metal armor shaped like feathers that protected your shoulders. It was beautiful, elegant, and tantalizing to his eyes, his pupils hovering over each plush curve and indent of your tight body suit. 

Something caught Hawk’s eye, though, and he leaned in slightly to see what it was-something white and fluffy was twitching on both sides of you, the curve extremely familiar-until he realized: you had wings.

They weren’t anywhere as large as his, but they were much more, well, angelic than his. His wings were loud and prideful with their overpowering size and rich blood red color. They were durable, tough, and screamed for attention.

Your wings though were silent beauties, barely noticeable yet once seen took your breath away. The feathers were a delicate white like snow, and with careful inspections had a shimmer to them like stained glass in a cathedral. They were absolutely mesmerizing, and Hawks found himself staring at those wings as you began to introduce yourself.

“Hello,” he watched you timidly speak out. It was adorable to watch, your shoulders trying to show strength by being puffed out like a prideful little bird, but oh the way your smile trembled and your digits fidgeted showed just how wracked with nerves you were. “I am the Angelic hero-Angel. My quirk is that I can create a calming effect on people, as well as fly” 

Your eyes ghosted over the heroes in front of you, each face more stony and cold than the last. You finally gave a small glance at Hawks, his heart jumping in his chest. 

Your eyes were so warm and enticing, wanting to swallow him whole with those pretty irises swimming with pure sweetness. His cheek was pushed up against his hand as he sent you a mischievous wink your way, a  grin blossoming against his lips as he watched you become even more flustered than before.

His chest puffed up with pride as you sat down, knowing he had made a small impression on you. Maybe it was the dreariness of this meeting, or the fact he hadn't had any romantic endeavors in ages, but he had already gained a liking to you.

You walked out of the meeting, your head swarming and your heart pacing. Your first real hero meeting! You could practically scream with giddiness, electricity ebbing from your fingertips as you walked alongside your mentor, Miruko. 

It was a dream to be working alongside such a skilled and likeable hero as herself, and you couldn't be more thankful for the bunny hero for seeing potential in you. Being a year out of UA, it was expected for you to start interning or even becoming sidekicks in order to get a  headstart in the hero business. Even though Mirko was notorious for turning down any and all interns, you had applied to her agency and surprisingly has gotten in. 

Now you were working with one of the top dogs of the whole Hero industry, and the pressure of that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“So, what do ya think of your first hero meeting?” Miruko asked, her red eyes gleaming as she walked alongside you as the rest of the heroes crowded out of the conference room.

“It was-interesting” you spoke carefully, your tongue trying to find the best words. It was exhilarating to be around all these heroes, from up and coming to even the #1, but you had to admit it wasn't as intense as you had imagined it to be. 

“Hella boring, huh?” Miruko interjected truthfully, her voice booming and unapologetic. “Eh, don't worry, these aren't every meeting. The team ups are better- alot more interesting things go on in those ones-”

Just then, a man dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants came up to the Bunny hero, a badge connected to his belt. 

“Hey detective, what can I do for you?” she asked goodnaturedly, her slim fingers wrapping around her hips.

“Im extremely sorry to bother you on such short notice, but we have a case currently revolving around a few villains you reprimanded last week and needed a testimony from you about their quirks-”

“Sure thing!” she grinned, her red eyes traveling from the detective down to you, ,”You think youll be okay? Ill only be gone for a few minutes,”

“O-of course! Ill be fine,” your smile wavered slightly, a small gulp being emitted from your throat. 

Alone? Around all these heroes? You didn’t feel too ready for that- but you had to start somewhere. It was time to rip off that band-aid and be one with the heroes.

You began to feel your hands get clammy all ready as you watched the scene in front of you, feeling like a goldfish in a tank of sharks.

“An actual angel walking on the ground-never thought I’d see the day,” you heard a male voice next to you, the tone nonchalant and mischievous. You turned to your side, the wind getting kicked out of your chest-

No. Damn. Way.

“Your Hawks-the Winged Hero,” you breathed out in shock, 

The hero smiled at you, his wide grin playful as he gazed at you with those piercing yellow eyes

“The one and only,” he said cockily.

You werent going to lie-Hawks was one of your favorite heroes, probably your all time favorite. He was so successful for his age, being only a few years older than you. His quirk was also extremely powerful, and he was a huge inspiration for you since his quirk was so similar to yours. Also, the fact that he was known to be kind of a flirt, on top of him being incredibly handsome, made you the biggest fangirl for him.

“Gotta say babe, your wings are pretty impressive-surprise you didn't apply to my agency,” the winged hero commented, his voice extremely calm and inviting.

But wait-did he just call you ‘babe’? Oh god-your heart began to pound against your chest, your cheeks feeling warm from the small word. 

You grinned slightly at the hero, your expression small and almost shy.

“How do you know I didnt?” You quipped, trying to sound calm as the attractive hero continued to give you that playful smirk.

“Oh believe me-I would have remembered if you did,” his voice almost dropped, sounding way more huskier than before. 

Christ-he really was a flirt. You could practically feel your heart banging against your rib cage, your hands feeling clammy and your cheeks quite warm.

 He was too teasing for his own good-but it was almost endearing, like he was trying to impress you.

It reminded you of birds during mating Season, the ones who would sing the prettiest songs in order to attract a mate-and really any mate. Hawks was probably just like that-say a few pretty things, and had some fun trying to get a girl hooked under those ruby red wings.

“But I don't blame you for going with Miruko,” he admitted,” she's one hell of a hero, probably the one of the best ones around,”

You cocked your head in confusion, a short wave of shock circling your body. Hawks seemed too cocky to say a positive remark about a hero-most of the time he was preaching about how the heroes played it too safe and the hero world needed a desperate change. He seemed to group all heroes into a category and gave himself a whole one to himself, as if he was different from everyone around him. 

So yeah, it was a little strange to hear him congratulate any hero really, but it feels your chest with pride-you definitely had to have made a good decision going with Miruko if the most judgmental hero in Japan seemed to approve. But you still felt a little guilty for making him think you only cared about getting in with Miruko and not any other hero.

“Well, I was planning on applying to more agencies,” you stated, an apologetic smile playing on your lips, “yours was on the list,

The hero chuckled at your remark, not taking you quite seriously. “Oh I bet-”

“It was, I promise!” You smiled at him, your tone trying to be reassuring. 

God, why did he have to be so-well-pretty? He was looking at you strangely, as if he was drinking you in as you continued to talk. His lemon yellow eyes were glazed over with adoration, and you couldn’t t help but be flustered by the sight.

“Its just-she took me on so quickly,” you gulped out, trying desperately to calm your beating heart, “ it was kinda shocking. I honestly was so excited I just took her offer and didn't think of going to other agencies,”

“Awww, Not even mind, angel?” He cooed out, his feathers vibrating with the small sound, “It would have been fun having you around-

“I promise, I would have applied to your agency in a heartbeat if she didn't accept me,” you reassured the hero.

He simply nodded, an accepting grin playing on his face as if he finally took your word for it. His gloved hands were hidden into his pant pockets, his Stance calm and comfortable.

“So, angel,” he asked, changing the subject,   “how long have you  been interning with Mirko?”

Something about this hero calling you “angel” felt different-of course it was your hero name, and of course he would call you by that but-it felt different coming from him. It sounded playful and flirtatious as if he was calling you by a secret little pet name only reserved for you. It may because of his coy antics or his seductive smirk, but it was making you feel warm and comfy inside.

“This will be my 3rd week,” you replied, your blush getting much worse 

“Third week, huh?” he said, his voice genuinely curious, “Has she been teaching you alotta things?”

“Oh yeah she's amazing!” you exclaimed. 

Mirko was the most amazing mentor and even more. Most sidekicks or interns had the worst time with big time heroes, always left on the back burner to do the heroes paperwork or simply do tedious errands for them without ever learning a single thing. But with Miruko, this wasn’t the case at all. 

This was a blessing and a curse-since you were always out on patrol with  the hero, the media had seem to take a liking to you. Not only were you always beaten up and tired, you had to now deal with being in the limelight since you were Miruko’s new sidekick, something the media never thought they’d see.

 “I’ve been patrolling, working on small cases, even being able to actually stop a few crimes- I think that's why the press is so on me,” you added, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

You heard the hero chuckle slightly, his wavy blonde hair shaking as he shook his head

“Aw, you really are a little baby bird-” he cooked at you, your eyebrows cocked in confusion.

A baby bird? 

He seemed to notice your confusion, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Ah don’t worry angel, I don’t mean anything bad by calling you that,” he stated, “You're not used to this whole hero thing. But promise me, you'll get used to it-,”

“Especially when they make dumb scandals about you-”

He added on, his tone more tired. It was true with Hawks being one of the Top 10 heroes and being as young as he is, he had his fair share of conspiracies and allegations revolving around him.

“Oh, like the one about your favorite food being chicken? I thought that one was hilarious”,” you giggled.

Hawks turned to you, his cheeky grin now turn to one coated in seriousness,

““Oh no, babe,  that one is completely real,”

You whipped around, your eyes blown out wide with shock

“What? Your joking-“

“Completely serious!” He laughed, his grin wide and mischievous, “Who doesn't love fried chicken! It's the best food in my opinion-ya can't go wrong with it,”

You gave him a playful look of distaste, your noise scrunched up.

 “Really? But it’s kinda, well, weird-“

Hawks groaned, but that smile was still plastered on his face. 

“Don’t tell me your siding with those tabloid writers,” 

“This time-maybe,” you giggled, a smile you were sporting uncontainable.

“Aw, Cmon angel, I was beginning to like you!” He chuckled playfully along with you

Finally as your laughs began to die down, a thought crossed your mind, and you turned to the Wing Hero With the question playing on your tongue.

“Ya know I've always wanted to ask you something,” you said, your eyes meeting the sun yellow orbs of Hawk’s

That smile was still tugging at his lips, making him look adorably young and boyish.

“Lay it on me babe-”

You swallowed thickly, a miix of nervousness and embarrassment filling your stomach.

“How to do you use your wings? In battle-or when you fly?”

It was Hawk’s turn to look confused, his fluffy eyebrows angled softly. He seemed to understand what you meant by how self conscious you look, a hint of sympathy playing in his eyes.

“Wait-” he said slowly,  “you mean you don't know how to use your wings?”

You cringed, hating how blunt the sentence sounded. It was true, you never really got the hang of using your wings. It was embarrassing to admit it, but it was something you had to work through. If you wre going to be a high ranking Hero you were going to need to be at 100% of your potential.

“Wll I-I do, I can float but I cant fly very high up-,” you stumbled out,” nowhere near your height though. And I want to be able to carry people and well- I just don’t know how to start,”

Hawk’s nonchalant girn was again on his face, “See, little chickadee, this is why you should have applied to my agency,” he joked.

You sighed exasperatedly 

“I know,” you smiled, “you have a  good point there,”

The gloved digits of Hawk’s hand wrapped around his chin, his lips pouted slightly in thought.

“Honestly, it took me a little bit to really get the hang of it- Ive been using my wings since I was a kid- so it might be some time for you to get the hang of yours”

“Id be up for helping you with some pointers,” He turned to you, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks. That smile would be the death of you- it somehow made your head feel incredibly cloudy and your legs feel like jelly. 

“ but you gotta promise me one thing,”

You cocked your head, your eyebrows stitched in confusion

“Whats that?”

You had never seen a more shit eating grin in your life- Haws gazed up at you, his eyes glinting devilishily

“Don't fly too high up-Can't be having an angel going back up to heaven” he said, making your cheeks incredibly hot as he walked away, knowing full well he had made you too flustered to even talk.

Damn- he really was a flirt

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“Great job, chickadee, your really getting the hang of this!” Hawks yelled out, his hands cupped over his mouth.

Your cheeks were red with pride and nervousness, your wings flapping against you as you hovered in the air. You were probably 3 stories high on Hawk’s agency building, your eyes trying to desperately to not look down. 

This was exhilarating to be so high up, but- it was terrifying!

Your heart was pacing against your chest, a heavy drum that was painfully raping against your rib age.

Don’t look down, don’t look down….damn it.

You caught a glimpse of your feet in midair, your steel plated boots almost floating over the street below as cars honked at each other and pedestrians walked along the asphalt.

The extremely hard, durable asphalt that could turn you into a human pancake in a matter of seconds.

The image of that terrible idea made your head swarm with panic- your wings flapping haphazardly as you flew backwards back to the safety of the balcony.

This was too much-this height was insane. Hawks was insane- how could he even fly comfortably at this height!

Hawks had been training you a few days a week, something you were extremely grateful for- you were know working as a sidekick with one of the top heroes and having private lesson with the #2 hero?! You honestly couldn't be more grateful-

Until he decided to make you fly by yourself on top of an extremely high building. On your 5th lesson! How crazy could this man be?

You weren't even noticing how fast your wings were flying backwards until your feet hit the firm tiles of the balcony. It took you by surprise, another pit slamming your chest as you tried to catch yourself from falling on your face, your feet shuffling backwards in an attempt to find some grounding.

So you chickened out of an exercise (something Hawks was definitely going to joke about) and now you were going to bruise your ass from falling in front of your favorite hero /crush. Just great.

“Whoa there, babe, slow down!”

You felt a pair of gloved hands grab ahold of your waist, the hands firm and tight against your ribcage. You could practically hear the laughter in Hawk’s voice, as if he found your fail incredibly amusing. 

Your cheeks were heating up, realizing how close you were to the hero- his chest was pressed up against your back, and you could feel his chin grazing against your windswept hair.

“So,” he asked, his voice taking on a more husky tone, “how’d it feel when you fell from heaven?”

God, that voice- hearing him flirt so close to your ear made his words sound way too intimate, making your back tingle and your cheeks blaze red.

An exasperated groan slipped from your lips, your body pushing away from Hawk’s as he began to chuckle at your flusteredness.

“You were just dying to say that, huh?”

“What, you can't blame a guy!” he said between laughs, “you did set me up for it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your back turning away from him in an attempt to hide your obvious blush.

“You're still a little scared to fly high, huh?” Hawks tone was calm and nonchalant, making you feel grateful that he wasn't too mad at you for freaking out so suddenly.

You tucked a piece of hair self consciously behind your ear. It was so frustrating to you- you were gifted with these wonderful wings, yet you could barely use them “Yeah, a little,” you sighed, “its just-I don't know how to get over it, and it feel like I'm not improving fast enough-”

Hawks sent you a sympathetic smirk, his lemon yellow eyes gleaming in the golden rays of sunset. 

“Ah dont put too much pressure on yourself Angel, you'll get it eventually!”

“And besides,” he added, “you have been getting better- before we started you could barely flap your wings...now look at you! You flew over a whole street for almost 5 minutes!”

His smile was beaming, his tone so supportive and kind. Times like this you almost wished you had chosen to apply to be Hawk’s sidekick- he was so carefree and positive about everything. he somehow made every situation feel like a milestone, no matter how little you improved, and it made you feel a little better about your progress.

You gave him a meek smile, the cruddy feeling of failure still sinking in your chest.

“Aw, don't give me that sad face, angel,” he cooed, “you're gonna be just fine- you'll see,”

Still- you couldn't seem to get out of your saddened daze, even with his overwhelming positivity. 

Hawks seemed to notice, the usually chatty man suddenly quiet. It was strange to see him like that,as he rubbed his pointer finger against his stubbled chin, deep in thought.

“Ya know, I think I know just what you need,” he finally said, his tone warm like honey, “you need a small break- something to take your mind off of all this.”

“There’s a little diner on the West side of town- it's got the best comfort food you've ever tasted, and you can really taste the flavor in their meals,” Hawk sent you a glimmering smile, one that could stop your heart in a matter of seconds.

 “What do ya say, angel, down for some grub? It'll be my treat, promise.”

Free food and you get to spend time with your mentor/crush? You sighed, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

“Sure, why not,”

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

And thats how you ended up here, in a little whole in the wall diner near Hawk’s apartment.

The restaurant was decorated to look relatively old, 1950’s memorabilia plastered on the walls and even a jukebox playing dance music from the era playing softly in the background.

The place was quite adorable in your opinions, and you really couldnt understand how Hawks had even found the place.

Until you realized- they had the best fried chicken you ever eaten in your whole life

Hawks wasnt lying when he said the food was good-it was incredible, the flavors and textures so warm and crisp as they dissolved on your tongue. 

You two had gobbled up the meal, hungry from a days worth of training. The milkshakes Hawks had ordered for you two after was just was as amazing as the food itself, the creamy dessert cooling against your throat and making your whole body tingle with joy

It also helped that Hawks was the best partner to eat, with his bizarre stories and crazy antics having you giggling between bites, sometimes making you forget to eat as you got sucked in to his crazy retellings.

You two had finally finished, your stomachs full and genuine smiles gracing your cheeks.

You sighed in content, a smile gracing your lips 

“The food was amazing Hawks, thank you-”

You had honestly never seen Hawks looks so domestic- he was sporting a simple white tee and dark jeans, a gold watch adorning his wrist. You guessed the hero had to always wear something somewhat flashy but still- it was strange to see him so casual. 

But you werent complaining- it made him more approachable and lovable in a way, making your dinner feel less like a meal between colleagues but between close friends.

You watched Hawks wave his hand, stopping your sentence in its tracks.

“Call me Keigo,” he interrupted, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks, “since I took you out to dinner, I think its only right for you to call me by my actual name,”

You gulped, your eyes wide with shock-the Hawks gave you permission to call him by his real name?

The fangrl in you wanted to scream and to jump up and down like an excited 12 year old. Thankfully, the practical side of you pushed those urges deep down, only the shock of his sentence riddling throughout your body

“Right uh- Keigo,” you gulped out, “-I definitely owe you one for showing me this place,”

“Your welcome angel, its my pleasure,”

You smiled softly, your lips pursed slightly from nervousness.

“Ya know,” you said, your tone soft and open. “you dont have to call me by my hero name either if you dont want to,” 

If he was being so welcoming with you, shouldn't you do the same? He had taken you to dinner after all, and even paid for you, even after you had insisted he didnt have to. Hawks-Keigo- was being so kind to you, you had to at least do something in return. 

“- you can call me by my real name,”

A hum rumbled from Hawk’s chest, his hand stroking his stubble chin.

“Thats true but the thing is- I like calling you angel”

He sent you a flirtatious smirk from across the table, making your heart stop beating in its tracks. Keigo was a piece of work to understand- one minute he was being supportive like a mentor would be to their student, and the next he was flirting with you like he was trying to pick up a girl at a bar. Was this really how he acted with everyone? Or just-you?

You cocked your head in confusion, your cheeks hot from his sentence.

“Why?”

He grinned, his sultry yellow eyes trained on yours.

“Its like Im calling you by a pet name, like ‘babe’ or ‘dove’,” he explained, taking a pause to place his words correctly,” but it's more...personal.”

That shit eating grin was evident on his face again, making him look boyish as he leaned in towards you.

“its also kinda cute when you get all flustered when I say it,”

Well-crap.

“I-I dont get flustered,” you stuttered, making your lie blatantly obvious.

The man chuckled, obviously loving every second of this.

“Then why are you blushing angel?” he taunted sweetly,

 “Don't think for a second I didn’t notice your little crush on me,”

Oh no.

This wasnt good.

God, you knew you blushed alot but- how dumb of you to not assume he knew you liked him! You wanted to crawl in a hole, to just dissolve into the ground and disappear.

“I dont have a crush on you- your just my mentor, your just helping me-” you denied his accusation, your voice desperate to prove it to him and yourself.

You didnt have feeling for this Hero, you couldnt, he was just someone who helped you, you shouldnt like him like this-

“Aww lets not lie to ourselves little dove, you dont have to be so defensive,” he was smiling at you so wide, as if he was being reassuring. But something was different about this smile, and the way he looked at you- it was so tender and almost-nervous?

“Why do you think I took you to this place? It wasnt just to get your mind off of training you know,”

You stared at him in complete confusion.

That was why he had taken you here right? To cheer you up-but then again, Keigo didn't have to do this. He could have just patted you on the back and said “Good job.” He didn't have to take you to his favorite restaurant, buy you a meal, and even dessert, and tell you all his most interesting and sometimes embarrassing stories. He didn't have to lend you his jacket that you were wearing right now after you said you were cold, or promise to drive you home once it was got dark. He didn't have to do any of these things-but he did.

“Wait- This-this is a date, isnt it?” you stated bluntly, the revelation hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Keigo smiled timidly at you, the first time you had ever seen him look so nervous

“Only if you want it to be,” he chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant.

He sighed, clearly riddled with nerves as  his eyes staring down at his watch, trying to find the best words

“I-I know this is kinda sudden,” he finally said, “ and I should have told you straight before taking you here, but- I like you. Your fun ,and snarky, and so goddamn beautiful it makes my head spin. You make me smile so much, and I-I want to be with you.”

Hawks looked up at you, those bright hazel eyes staring at you with such love it took your breath away. You felt your whole body feel warmth, like honey was now flooding your veins. You honestly never imagined the hero to ever have feelings for you, but with this confession hanging in the air, you couldn’t feel happier.

“What do ya say, angel,” he asked, his hand stretching across the table and encasing yours, “ wanna give this a go?” 

You stared down at that hand, seeing his digits wrap so effortlessly around yours. It felt natural, yet exhilarating , a low, pleasant buzz forming from the small touch. It just felt-right.

“Sure,” you smiled, your fingers now curling around his, “ lets do it,”

Taggings (if you want to be added to the tag list, just shoot me an ask! Im also trying to work on an official tag list post, so you might see that soon! ) 

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie

[jonthethinker]

I imagine that, for most of her life, Beauregard Lionett has been the living embodiment of a clenched fist.

 The life she could have had, had her father not been the man he was, had he not lay the full weight of his expectation and vision and above all paranoia on the slender shoulders of his only daughter, is a question worth exploring. Beau in the present is full of energy and always craves activity and stimulus, and it’s not hard to imagine that’s how she was as a child; many a grass-stained dress, I’m sure, and I tend to think she was the sort of kid to dig holes just to see what she could find, curiosity unbounded even at an early age.

If her energy had been redirected instead of squashed, if her curiosity had been rewarded instead of reprimanded, if her cleverness had been sharpened instead of scolded, Beauregard Lionett may have been on the path to become the most renown vintner in all of Wildemount. But instead what her future held in store for her was white knuckles.

The picture painted by the wonderful Marisha Ray of the life of Young Beau is one of a desperate fight for agency, and denial and defeat in this quest at every turn. With her bright mind, she attempts to create a new path for the family brand to take, but is rejected outright by her father. So what does Beau do in response? In typical Beau fashion, she says fuck you and begins to bootleg the family wine right under her father’s nose. I think this was in part to obviously get one over on her father, but also to prove to herself that she could in fact sell the wine better. This is a feature of Beau’s personality that pops up over and over; her need to prove to herself and others her own value. I have no doubt that Young Beau tried so hard to impress her contacts in the small world of underground wine bootlegging, just to get some sort of validation or affirmation, and no doubt that this was used against her again and again, her nails digging ever deeper into her palms.

Of course her father finds out, and she is cast away; exasperated that his daughter isn’t planted firmly under his thumb like any good heir would be, he ships her off to the Cobalt Soul, where perhaps they can teach her some discipline, all the while believing that it was her that failed him and not the other way around.

In some respect, no crueler fate could have been bestowed on Beau than to end up at the Cobalt Soul, and I’ll explain why. Beau at her core is a bright, energetic, curious person. If Beau had been given the actual choice to go to the Cobalt Soul of her own will on the onset of her teenage years she would have jumped at the chance. Learning and fighting and exploring are the sort of thing Young Beau would have loved. But she is forced to go, after being ostensibly disowned by her family, all the while knowing that to all her potential mentors, the label of Problem Child is dangling from her neck; she was not sent there as a budding mind to be fostered and cultivated, but as a problem to be solved.

She pays attention to her classes, but she can’t afford to show any enthusiasm, or else she’s admitting defeat; Beau always loses on her own term, and at this point she was very used to losing. The tension in her shoulders builds and builds as she contemplates how poorly all the monks must think of her, her behavior getting worse and worse just so she has some sort control over her life; she can’t help but be the chained up dog she is, but goddammit you’re going to know she’s there. That she can do. And finally the thrashing against the chain causes it to break, and she realizes she can leave, and so she bolts, and doesn’t stop running until she slams full speed into the Mighty Nein.

Beau is my favorite character for many reasons, but a big one is that she plays into the archetype of “Character Who Cares So Much But Can’t Afford To Show It”, only matched in my heart by “Character Who Can’t Even Begin To Hide How Much They Care”, ironically also played to by Marisha Ray in the form of Keyleth.

From the moment we meet her in the tavern with Jester and Fjord, it is clear upon reflection that she already cares so much. She stuck to those two like peanut butter on bread almost immediately, and it becomes very clear when you discover how afraid she was that they were going to leave her behind. For her entire life, all Beau wanted to be was acknowledged and accepted, to not be so goddamn alone all the time. And here was her chance to have that, and so she held on like her life depended on it. In some ways, it did.

I don’t think the tightness of her spiritual fists really loosened until Nicodranas. Before that the Doubt was always there that the rest of the Nein would come to grips with how much of a problem she really was and get rid of her, and who could blame them in her eyes; she was just someone who didn’t fit, and that was her fate. But they didn’t. As time went by they just seem to pull her closer. And then the Iron Shepards happened, and that’s when she knew for sure; she loved these people, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them.

And then... Mollymauk dies, and it forces Beau to reckon with the ugly bitterness she had allowed to consume her mind, and that she had more options than breaking. She could be a builder. She could build something good. With the Mighty Nein by her side, she could do anything, even be good. They arrive at that beach in Nicodranas, the grief of losing Molly easing on her heart, and for the first time in her entire life, she feels safe, lightness replacing her usual heaviness, her shoulders relieved of their usual tension, and finally she can, for a moment or two, go to that place in her mind the Monks always talked about.

But after a long period of security, her hands form that familiar shape again at the prospect of her worst fear coming to fruition; slowly losing the Nein. Nott was going to get her body back, and was possibly going to go back to her family. Which makes sense; it’s why she is here in the first place. But it reintroduces the idea that the family she’s built for herself could slowly come apart as each of its members finish their quest and find their place. But the Nein is Beau’s quest, it is her place.

Suddenly they’re back in Kamordah, and her old wounds seem to get torn back open all at once, and Beau loses her footing, spiritual eyes clenched, shoulders tight, and fists balled up, bracing herself for what surely had to follow. They meet the Hag, an awful creature who preys on misery, who was feeding on Nott, Beau’s chosen sister, and she wanted a deal to free her, to replace misery with misery. And things began to click into to place. This is what this was all building up to, wasn’t it? This is what it was all for. Molly was there to teach her that she could do good, and here was her chance. All it would cost is everything. Everything she never deserved. She was going to go back to losing on her terms, just as it should have always been.

One unexpected Cupcake later, and that idea of martyrdom is entirely thrown out the window. This is the part of the movie where the record scratches. This was not at all how things are supposed to go. Things were supposed to fall apart. And now the newly returned Veth has her doubts about putting the Adventurer’s Life behind her. And Cad’s family is saved and home restored and he’s decided to stick around anyway. WHAT IS GOING ON?!! Here Beau was matching the pairs in hand thinking she was playing Poker only to be playing Uno all along.

I have no idea where Beau’s head is right now, but she seems to be sliding back into the Beau we’re so proud of. I don’t know if this is just the calm before Marisha rips all of our hearts out, or if Beau has just decided to enjoy the Mighty Nein for what it is while she has it. But I know her knuckles have some color again, and for that I’m grateful.

[fallen029]

Nervous

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Mira tilted her head to the side though her eyes betrayed the cute, quirky questioning vibe she was going for as they, instead, seemed rather disbelieving. It was easy for Laxus to note it these days, having fallen like most other in the hall for her typical chaste trickiness and innocuous pretenses over the years, but after being far more than just a guild member to her now for a good number of them as well, he'd begun to pick up on the little things.

Like how she seemed forever trapped in a guilelessness that didn't quite entrap her as well as she thought it did.

But this was fine, the ease at which he disarmed her now, as Mira was able to pick apart the man's own fallacies and walls.

"Yeah," he grumbled to the woman's question, but she only grinned at him, as if victorious, as she picked apart his lies with ease.

"Then why are you biting at your nails?" she asked with round eyes. "You only do that when you're nervous."

And now she'd managed to annoy him.

"Mira-"

"I'm only curious," she insisted with a little shake of her head. "Dragon."

He huffed some, his chest deflating as he finally gave her his full attention. They were in the bar, as they typically were, but Mirajane had actually found a moment to take a break. Rest. S-Class trials were, at that very moment, going on and those who hadn't been chosen were sulking away from the guild for the time being while a decent sized group was off being put through the rigorous trials and tribulations that were associated with being designated part of the elite group of mages that were Fairy Tail S-Class wizards.

Laxus had no reason to be nervous.

He'd claimed his spot many years before and, at times, wondered if he even had eventually surpassed the old geezer all together. He'd be a wizard saint, someday, he knew, or at least told himself so, and that meant that he had far more concerns than something as silly as a guild distinction.

Not when may one day have the distinction among the entire continent.

S-Class trials had nothing to do with him and, if anything, he was mostly just glad to find that bar emptied out some that day.

"It's okay," Mira assured him then though and when she reached across the table, it was to grab his hand, pulling it down so that she could caress it as she looked deeply into the slayer's eyes. "I am too."

"You are what too?" he asked dumbly, confused equally by her words as he was calmed by her gesture.

"Nervous," she insisted.

"About what?"

"The same thing as you."

"I'm not," he told her, "nervous."

"Laxus-"

"What do I have to be nervous about, huh?" Then, frowning, he questioned, "What do you?"

"Well, actually, I'm nervous about a lot of things," she said, releasing his hand, but only so she could bring her own up to her cheek and rest her head there then, as she thought. "I have a shipment of meat that hasn't come in yet and I know, this weekend, if I don't get it, that I'll have to serve meals without any meat portion and the guys will be pretty upset about that, which will affect my tips, and I've been trying to save up money for my wedding. Which brings me to my next point, I've been saving for a wedding that can't yet happen because my boyfriend is dragging his feet with proposing to me even though we've talked about it a thousand times-"

"Mira," he warned, but she only shrugged.

"The dog I look after was sick last night, too," she finished. "I'm nervous about that."

Laxus, with a slight breath, questioned, "What's wrong with him?"

"He has the shits."

And he blinked. Then narrowed his eyes while the woman only gazed right back with hers earnest and honest.

Shrugging some then, Laxus said, "If you need help wrangling him down to a vet, I could-"

"Oh!" Mira sat up then. "And I'm super nervous because my baby brother is off on the S-Class trials and I want him to preform well." Shrugging, she added, "But I'm torn, because I also want all of my friends to do well. Including your best friend. Freed."

Laxus' face fell then as he realized he'd been duped (possibly; her street dog did have a hefty amount of ailments from time to time) and only looked off once more as he remarked, "Sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Laxus. To be nervous about such things." Sighing, she said, "It means that you care. About them. To be nervous for someone else. I want them all to come back, knowing that even though they can't all be the winner, at least invigorated and ready to start right back at training and trying their hardest to, eventually, be that winner. It's an honor to be nervous on someone's behalf. I'd gladly take all of Elf's nerves if it meant he could put all his focus into the trials right now."

Laxus snorted. "Yeah, well, bully for you. Freed can take care of his damn self. I don't need to worry about him, like you and your loser brother."

"Behave."

Snorting, the man looked off before saying, "I'm not worried. Over Freed. Or anything."

"Fine. Not worried then." Mira had lost some of her jolliness at the slight her boyfriend had sent towards her absent brother. "But you are thinking about it. Aren't you? Even just a little? He's your best friend. I would at least think-"

"I'm," he insisted to her with a finality in his tone he usually reserved for literally anyone who wasn't his demon, "not nervous about the S-Class trials. Or worried. Or concerned. Alright?"

Sighing, she looked off for a moment, considering the slight surge of people that had come in in the last ten minutes or so and weighing in her mind whether or not her break was officially over. Not quite ready to let it go though, when her eyes drifted back to her boyfriend, it was with another set of words on her tongue.

"If you're not nervous about the trials," she began in that tone and it was enough, just on its own, to make him regret coming into the hall that day, "then that must mean that you're nervous about something else, so what is it? Huh? Is it that you've been seeing someone else?"

"Mira, what?"

"Some other woman, is it, then? Who is she, Laxus? Huh? Don't think that I wont' make a scene here, right now, in front of everyone, because-"

"What are you-"

"-if you don't tell me what it is that you're so nervous about, then I have no choice but to assume that you're cheating on-"

"I'm nervous for my friend, alright?" And he usually wouldn't take such a tone with her, but he did then, snapping some, out of aggravation and, maybe it was a trick of the lights, but the woman could have sworn she even saw a flick of his fangs as the vein on the side of his head bulged and his eyes darkened. "I want him to be S-Class with me and I'm worried that your stupid brother or one of those other idiots will get it over him. Or that...that… He'll fuck it up himself. Is that what you want to hear? Huh?"

No.

The other people around the guildhall did not.

But they had, quite clearly, heard nearly every word of his little outburst and, feeling all those eyes on him now only made the man growl louder. He was primed for a retreat, storming off and staying away from the hall for a few days, until he could stomach a return without smashing in the face of the first person who questioned him.

Mirajane, however, wasn't going to let this happen.

Because, yes, she had been very happy with the explosion of information that had just fallen out of the slayer's mouth. She'd only been prodding at him her entire break. For it to result in such a satisfying revelation meant it hadn't all been for not.

"Awe," Mirajane giggled, clapping her hands at the slayer's misery. "You guys are just such good friends, huh, dragon? You feel a lot better, don't you? Getting that off your chest?"

"No," he told her with the same candor that he'd just exposed himself and his nerves to the entire guildhall. "I feel worse."

"Well," Mira hummed as, job complete, she got to her feet once more, she offered, "I feel better. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Demon." The moniker was more of a proclamation than an endearing term. "You're evil."

"I love you," was her purest of explanations and she meant it too, he could tell, as her deep blues flashed a bit of hurt. "Helping you admit your feelings for your friends is how I show that."

"Yeah, well," he muttered under his breath, "then you need to find new ways."

Laxus took off that night, before her shift was finished, but that was fine with the woman as she'd more than begun staying most nights at his apartment.

When she arrived, he was flicking through an old atlas, comparing it to a current map. Something for a job, was all he grumbled to her when she lightly questioned, and Mira let his tone go because, well, she had been rather insistent before, at the bar, and all things considered, he hadn't outright acted a fool.

Just mostly.

"If Elfman doesn't make S-Class," she did whisper, eventually, over dinner that night and she saw the man roll his eyes, thinking she was trying to goad him back into a conversation, "I'll cry."

Grunting, he only continued to stab at the steamed vegetables at his plate, never rightly bringing them up to his mouth, but not quite ready to admit, when he insisted in a huff that he be the one to make them, that this was a bad idea.

"Of course," she hummed again, "if he makes it, I'll probably cry then, too."

"Mira?"

"Yes?"

"I already told you what you wanted to hear," he told her plainly. "What else do you want from me?"

"I'd like you to make a big emotional plea again," she replied back with the same amount of flatness that it almost made the slayer recoil. At the sight of it though, she broke some as, with a giggle, she admitted, "I'm just talking, dragon. About my baby brother. Who wants this so badly-"

"If he wanted it badly, he'll come back S-Class," Laxus told her as, with a shake of his head, he went back to stabbing at his vegetables. "If he doesn't, then that means he didn't want it badly enough."

"Well, I'm not saying that to him, if he comes back not S-Class."

"Yeah, I figured."

"And I'm not saying that to Freed either."

"That's fine," Laxus told her. "I will. He knows where to go to hear the truth."

"A little kindness will get you a lot in life, Lax," she replied, but he only shrugged some.

"Won't get you S-Class," he retorted and, well, the next morning would finally put the entire conversation to rest.

Cana had never looked prouder than herself and, that night, never gotten drunker, than when she was finally, after wanting it for so long, so much, to find herself on the same Fairy Tail tier as her father.

He was there, Gildarts was, having been hanging around for a few days, prepared for this, and she seemed rather annoyed by all of his attention, shoving at the man's face any time he tried to hug her, but betraying her annoyance by the glistening in her eyes, every single time he, also drunkenly, announced to those amassed how proud he was of the guild's newest S-Class member.

His daughter.

Mirajane was caught as she always was, between dismayed at the heartbreak evident on the faces of those who weren't victorious and the one who was. As she comforted both Elfman and Natsu over their losses, she did take note, across the bar, of where Freed was very stoic and graceful in his defeat, but still being comforted in their own ways, by his two friends.

"Who wants to be S-Class anyways?" Bickslow questioned. "When you can be part of the most elite team in all the lands?"

"I would," Ever admitted under her breath though, still, she patted at Freed's shoulders sympathetically.

It was as they stood though that all three felt it. It had been looming, after all, the entire time. The presence of their most highly viewed mentor, Laxus, who came out of hiding, down in the game room. He'd been down there transferring his nerves into some rounds of pool, but Cana and Gildarts very loud commotion had finally caught his attention and he found himself not welcomed to the celebrations of the member he'd most desired.

At his approach, both Bickslow and Ever took a step back. They too had disappointed the man in the past, but never quite in such a grand fashion. Freed was primed to take the gold this time around, only to lose out to the guild drunk and Evergreen couldn't help but to glare over at the other woman, hating her more, even, than Titania, just for that day only.

Laxus came to a stop before the trio, eyes on Freed, and the rune mage forced himself to meet the gaze of the other man. It was just as he was beginning to open his mouth though that he caught sight of Mira, over at the bar, staring very pointedly his way and he took in a breath, instead of speaking, reconsidering his words before he was unable to take the back.

His gaze didn't soften, not exactly, but Freed was almost surprised when, instead of being reprimanded, he was welcomed with a pat at the shoulder from the man, as well as a slight grin.

"You kicked Elfman's ass, at least, right?" the slayer asked to which the other mage bowed his head a bit.

"Well, we did find ourselves across from one another and I found myself moving on while he did not, but-"

"All that matters."

"L-Laxus-"

"You'll want it more, next time," he told the other man simply. "After getting so close."

"Yes." And he balled up his fists then, Freed did, nodding his head at the man as he insisted, "I will!"

It was a celebration that night, not a pity party, as Cana was far from someone that anyone could look down upon (especially not with her father there, intent on making certain this didn't happen) and it was a good night.

For everyone.

The night peaked though, for Laxus, when towards the end of it, as he sat up at the bar drinking with the still far too giddy Gildarts, listening to the man go on about all of where he'd been (with some praise for his little girl sprinkled in there), Mirajane appeared at his side. The slayer originally thought it was to refill his mug, which he held up to help her with this, but instead of leaning down to fulfill this request, the woman instead pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering long enough for Gildarts to giggle at the man.

"Mira," Laxus questioned with a bit of a rosiness to his cheeks as the woman rightened and did, finally, begin to fill his mug with golden ale once more. Such public displays were hardly their style and the man raised his head then to question, "What was that for?"

"I just like it when you're nice, dragon." She even giggled. "I like it a lot."

But the night was busy and she was being called off again, across the bar, which left the still somewhat blushing Laxus and grinning Gildarts.

"You caught a good one, Laxus. Proud of ya."

"Shuddup."

"No, seriously." And Gildarts glanced over his shoulder then, to the table where his daughter was plying herself with barrel after barrel while her guild members, all so thrilled by her accomplishment, sat nearby, happily congratulating her. "I fucked up. You know. Once. With the only one that mattered. Sometimes you don't get second-chances, man." His serious tone faded though as his face contorted in a smile that didn't seem to stretch right across it as he said, "Unless you're like my Cana! No need for second-chances; she's all S-Class!"

"Yeah," Laxus snorted, "she just needed fourth and fifth and sixth-chances."

"What did you say? Eh? Laxus?"

And when Gildarts turned his head then, his face had contorted into something far darker and Laxus found it best to just sip his beer in silence for awhile.

They left together that night, Laxus and Mira did, the man a bit drunk and the woman, who'd worked the entire night away, stone cold sober, but it was fine, as she seemed high on something else.

"I'm so happy," she insisted to the man. "For Cana. It almost washes away how badly If eel for Elf."

Almost.

She was twirling and skipping that night, slightly before her boyfriend, and he only watched her for a few moments then before speaking.

"Maybe," he offered with a bit of a shrug, "he could come out with me. Elfman could. And we could train some times. To get him ready for next year."

And she stopped dancing then, Mira did, to look over her boyfriend as she instead flel into step with him. Slipping her arm into the crook of his, she snuggled up close to the man who, even drunk, only rolled his eyes.

"You're so sweet, Lax," she assured him as the man only groaned. "When you wanna be."

Even though his reaction seemed the exact opposite, slowly, Laxus was learning that, maybe, he always wanted to be.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter 6- Last Christmas

Hi all! Sorry she took forever- I edited all by myself, so be gentle!

Plans change. Tickets do too, it seems. Harry's beautiful hope, his gift, it came in handy.

Not in the right way, the intended way. Not because she came to him, ran around the world or even an unfamiliar city with him. Those were dreamy ideas, when she wound up spending all of fall semester in Holmes Chapel. Those daydreams shaded the hospital walls and funeral home with sunny possibilities.

Her father had a heart attack and her mother a breakdown. It was too late, when her mother noticed he'd been out with the dog for too long and the dog was inside whining.

"I knew, in my gut. Day dawned wrong. And then never ended." She'd cried. Her mother had cried in her arms in a reversal Emma felt was way beyond her maturity level.

That hadnt been over the phone. Over the phone had only been muffled sobbing and her dad's name, "John."

Emma didn't call him John, but she could forgive her mother. It was up to her mother's good friend Di to share the news: Emma had always looked up to Di, she'd had some tragic marriage in her youth, and then decided god damned men weren't for her.

At the moment, Emma was of a similar mind.

Emma assumed she'd have a similar life to Di, had planned for it actually. Di had her own house, a thriving career as a solicitor and no children. A life like that, of her own, was Emma's dearest wish before she wished to be able to say yes to Harry.

Now she just wished her dad was still around.

There were so many plans to make, a funeral to finance and a mother to support, to put back together.

It's a wonder Emma wasn't an outright romantic, the way her parents had been, lifelong sweethearts. They still had moon eyes for each other until the very end, could be found holding hands on the couch often. Emma had come home unexpectedly early last year and found her mother sitting on the kitchen counter with her father between her legs making out like teenagers.

It was a lot to live up to.

Emma supposed it was why she kept all her heart eyes and love life in the closet and saved it all up to spend once a year. Just like an old lady's Christmas budget.

This year, she didn't think it would be happening. Harry must have had some rich person thing going on with the ticket, because the minute she decided that rather than ask her mom to buy her a ticket to get home, for the funeral, instead use the one she  had from Harry, he'd called. There was clear excitement in his voice, hot on the heels of her phone call to the airlines. It was August. He was set to embark soon, she'd just got back to Amsterdam. He must have thought she was gonna sneak in a cheeky visit.

"You're coming?"

"What?" She was so disoriented. Coming where? What was going on? Her brain was muffled with plans her feelings kept stumbling over at the knees like a trip wire.

"To see me? I got a notification you used the ticket?"

Her brain was muddled, like an egg in a hot pan, what? How did he do that? "No, Harry, umm I'm not coming. I don't even know where you are right now." She barely knew where she was.

"Whose fault is that?" There was a tiny edge to his voice that would cut her if she could even notice. "You could have answered my calls."

"Harry," she sighed, she had been avoiding him a bit. Mostly because she had an evergreen memory of his disappointed face when she told him going on tour was too much, that she simply didn't have the time. She was glad she couldn't see his face when she said the next bit. His voice was buoyant with hope, she was about to pop that balloon. "I need the ticket to go somewhere else." She couldn't bear to say it, was biting her lip hard not to think it, the liquid memory brimming anyway.

"Yeah, ok. Well, Happy Christmas I guess. See you in four months, maybe." The bitterness in his voice was like an old lemon and she didn't even have time to sweeten it with truth when his phone clicked off.

That made her resentful. How could this truth be sweet in any way? It got worse over time, the resentment just nestled among her other griefs.

Then he wouldn't answer her calls. She supposed that was giving her a taste of her own medicine and it was a quick wash down her throat with no water after the other jagged pill life had just forced down her throat.

And it didn't get better. Though, she had to scoff at herself for even having a square of heart for Harry to break leftover.

Break it did though, when she heard he had a new girlfriend, a blonde, a model, a French blonde model.

Of course.

Emma couldn't help but stalk her instagram. His was useless, ill used, so when she'd finished a day of running the house she'd been a child in while taking care of her grieving mother, she'd torture herself some more and watch stories where the beautiful blonde played in a pool, or made jokes, or showed the big mirror over her bed.

That one hurt most. She'd never seen Harry's bed, nor he hers. The little devil voice inside her head whisper shouted that he much preferred the one he was in now, with the mirror and the model to the tiny inn room they'd spent all their overnights in.

She didn't hear from him, and she never called to explain herself either. What would she say? My life fell apart and I needed your ticket, but it hurt to much to say it out loud and you were to much of an asshole to let me say it.

Harry wasn't an asshole, not really, he was hurt. Emma was stunned she had that power, though she had admitted to herself there was more between them than mistletoe kisses and holiday fucks.

She'd admitted it was more to her.

He acted like it was more to him, unless this was just a bruised ego. She didn't like to think that. Harry had every reason to have a giant head, figuratively to go with the oversized cranium he actually sported, but he'd never shown it. He was cocky at times, just enough to be sexy. All of that was a veneer over a sweet vulnerability that made everybody want to be around him, protect him, love him.

Did she love him?

No, she didn't think so, but given more time, the potential was there, like a rock at the top of a hill, all it would take was a push.

Which, time on tour with him would have been. If she could have went. Which she couldn't. She wanted to explain all of this to him as soon as she has the chance- which she would in 6 hours.

Her promises to herself were that she would not cry and that she would accept his new relationship. His real relationship. Emma would not try to touch him, or kiss him, or confess her almost love to him.

He was probably in love himself, from her internet stalks, she was halfway there, with both of them. Harry edged it out by being perfect in person. Camille, that was frenchies name, could only be half as perfect as Emma made her in her head.

"Do I wear the sweater?" She asked her reflection. She'd had to become her best friend the last six months. Emma might have called her mom her best friend, just based on time spent together, if their relationship was reciprocal, but at this turn of the road, she was supporting her mom as she grieved and got back to herself. Emma could see glimmers. She had hope.

She however wasn't sure she had hope for herself. Was she really contemplating wearing the sweater Harry gave her last Christmas to his mother's Christmas party? How pathetic was that? She was rolling her eyes at herself. He'd had a big year, and he bought lots of gifts, probably for his new girl, so her thinking he'd remember felt narcissistic.

Plus, it was her favorite, which mostly had nothing to do with the fact it was from Harry.

Emma really didn't want to go, but Gemma was expecting her. And she really needed to see her, have her support. They'd been texting, a lot. Gemma had heard about her dad and reached out. It was the only emotionally connection Emma really had, those texts, and she needed to see Gemma, honestly. Even if it meant seeing Harry.

She might have wanted to see Harry.

To explain, and maybe just to see him. Make sure he was happy, feel his warmth, steal him back.

No, that was unlikely. See if he was happy and wish him well.

She wore the sweater.

The house was cozy when she arrived, like it always was and it thawed her heart enough for it to ache a bit. For something new. Her heart ached a fair bit off and on, then went numb. It was the only way she'd survived lately. Emma knew she was putting off really feeling her major loss.

It was a strange pleasure to mourn something as minor as heartbreak.

The hug from Gemma made the trip through the snow and down memory lane worth it. And the people all around her and their laughter were invigorating.

The alcohol helped as well. Their house was pretty dry but had been especially when she started to notice her mom was unconsciously developing a bottle a day habit. When it wasn't there she didn't mention it though, so Emma didn't buy it, except for special occasions.

She was merry, and felt held. Her hand was in Gemma's. She'd stayed away from the back bathroom and the kitchen, even come in the front door.

Emma felt like she was getting away with it.

Harry wasn't there, with girlfriend in tow or not. So all her pontificating about checking on him was all for naught, and she was getting all the crosses. She certainly felt like today was a plus.

Until she heard a tone of elation issue from Anne's happy voice that only motherly joy could produce.

Harry was here.

"Fuck!" Came out of her mouth, and Gemma looked at her sharply.

"What?"

"Nothing, guess I'm jumpy, your mum's shout made me spill." Emma thought she shouted an excuse me while she hurried up the stairs to hide, find a place farthest away from Harry and his happiness. He might be alone, but if he was glowing like a brand, the way he did when they holed up together only slightly dimmed by their parting, now because of it, from some other lover, Emma couldn't stand it.

Plus, she thought she'd heard another name connected to his over her own rated r exclamation.

She was coming out of the bathroom. Emma had suppressed her tears ruthlessly and her bottom lip might bruise from the brutal teeth marks she employed. She'd have given herself some words in the mirror, affirmations helped, but what was she gonna say. "You're happy for him."

She wasn't. She was happy with him.

"Fuck this." Emma decided the only course of action was a straight line to her parents house. her mother's house, she mentally corrected and gave herself a more legitimate reason to cry than over a boy. Even if that boy was Harry Styles.

Who she barely stopped herself from running into as she kept her head down and rounded the bannister to head down the stairs.

"Jesus! You gave me a fright!" She dramatized and kept a hand over her heart and her tear stained face down.

"Emma." His voice was flat, and not cold, but the warmth that snuggled around her name was absent and she shivered. "I wondered if you'd be here." Not Hoped, she noted. "What are you doing up here? Don't your usually use the back bathroom?" There was just a bit of heat in that statement, but it didn't warm, it burned. Was he being mean, that wasn't like him? "Nice sweater." Ok, definitely mean.

Her face came up with that thought, it shocked her out of the sense of control she was exercising.

He did look hard, mean, for a moment, but soft around the edges like a melting popsicle when he caught her face.

"Are you crying?" His hand came up and he stopped it mid air before it wiped away her tear.

Emma felt her body lean into him and another tear slipped out when his warm palm and always chilly finger tips touched her cheek.

God she'd missed him! While she was bolstering her mother, she'd needed support. He was supportive, or would have been. But he wasn't taking her calls, and she couldn't bring herself to text, "my dad died". Then, it was such old news, she figured he'd have heard from Gemma.

He took his hand away like she was a hot cooktop.

He pushed his hair back off his forehead with the hand probably damp with her tears and bravely changed the subject. "How long you in town for this time? Jetting off to some climate refuge hotspot soon?"

Emma flinched. Oh- he didn't know.

"Un, no, I'm living here." She didn't elaborate, maybe saying it out loud was as hard as texting it. "I was actually just about to head home to check on my mum. The back bathroom was in use, and the cold makes me need to pee." What the fuck was she talking about, he didn't need that information.

His dimple pressed in just a bit and he went to say something, but Emma just couldn't. She couldn't look at him anymore, or tell him about why she lived there, or about the ticket he seemed to have been hurt enough to move on over. She definitely didn't want to see evidence of his movement, especially not his upgrade. "Anyway, nice to see you," the words shot out of her mouth, impresonal and true. "Bye Harry."

"Wait Emma!" She thought she heard, but she just kept going. She'd tell Gemma she was sick.

She nearly was when she saw Harry's girlfriend hugging her closest friend in the living room.

"Oh god."

Luckily, when she got home, her mum was awake and feeling chatty, not blue. Emma focused on her and the special she was watching. Let the warm sound of her mother's once common laughter wrap around her as a blanket. It was more comforting than a cup of tea.

She waited until later to cry herself to sleep.

The next day was Christmas- the first without her father. She dried her rightful tears before she saw her mom, though she would have had all the standing in the world for them and she felt better about them than those she's shed the night before. She knew though that her wet face would cause a cascade event, the first drop in a waterfall, so she dried them up.

They had traditions to get through.

And get through they did. They each wrapped a gift for her father that they left under the tree and held each other right before tucking into a late brunch and preparing a boozy and sweet laden Christmas dinner, Emma contributed the puddings.

They were very much her mother's favorite, and she broke out a scandi recipe she'd enjoyed the last several years.

She Skyped her university friends, they exchanged the small gifts she'd mailed them and them her. She missed them something awful. She missed school horribly, so much she even emailed her advisor. All of her heart hoped to return after the winter break.

Emma thought the feeling of missing something was a bit like a paper cut and losing your keys combined.

Harry called late Christmas Day, just a few minutes shy of Boxing Day. That more than stung, it was a gut punch, or a knife plunge, though she'd never had either.

Emma ignored the call from Harry. What was there to say?

Boxing Day, well, Emma wasn't much of a drinker, but it was basically a tenet of British culture to get obliterated while watching the queen.

For the last several years, Emma had been off her face on Harry. This year she chose savingnon blanc with her mum. Two days, then they'd go back to a dry house. Tradition was tradition, and she couldn't think about the one she'd started and ached all over for.

What a pale imitation of ecstasy drunkenness was, though she supposed they both left a hangover, a residue.

Her bed, when she begged off to it early was warm and fragrant, but it smelled all wrong. No sandalwood or black coffee, not even the mint she'd come to associated with the comfort of love, or something like it.

It was worse, because when she closed her eyes, having seen Harry's someone in person, she could see him snugged up to her, so cozy. It was in their place, their room at the Boat's Head.

It was over, Boxing Day, when she puked.

She had another missed call from Harry. 11:59 Her personal witching hour.

The next day was a little bit better, either because she had her literal hangover to tend, or because she'd ripped the bandaid off her hurt and let the wound air.

"Hiya!" Gemma's voice and face were bright, unlike the gray day.

"Hello." Emma smiled and her voice held it, she held onto it. "You're merry!"

"Yeah, I'm at the pub. Everybody is at the pub," she flashed the phone around so Emma could see the waving swaying people, "we wanted to get you outta the house, you made such an effective Irish exit the other day you've let your people down, we need to see your smile. You feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." Emma thought about it, there was a pull to the pub. "Um, maybe I can swing over."

It only took a few minutes to throw on jeans and a jumper, not her former favorite. The walk was a little longer.

When she found them, her first comment was "Im not drinking!" Over a grimace.

"Too much wine with old Elizabeth, huh? " Gemma Laughed

"Yes! Did you know my mum has a long pour?" Emma shared with a laugh.

"No, but mine's gotten more heavy on the booze with me lately, they must like the new stages. Daughters as actual friends and drinking partners. Mum is thrilled!" Gemma grinned.  "So am I! Harry's a little jealous."

Emma tried to catch her grimace before it stomped across her face. Gemma kept talking and she thought she'd got away with it.

"He wants to be one of the girl's! He came down last night and mum, Camille and I were sharing wine and mum was showing her atrocious pictures. You'd think he'd be mad or embarrassed! He was like, 'Where's my glass?'" Gemma was staring at her while she chuckled.

Emma had less success not responding. Her face was a picture she was sure, a jealous one. And then she heard herself asking, "what's she like?" She gulped down the g word she almost voiced. "Camille?"

Gemma made a funny face, then looked at her again. "Um, she's silly and kinda quiet and I think she's worried my mom will care she's posed nude."

She wouldn't. That wasn't Anne's style. And if she did have an issue, she'd never voice it. She was really big on respecting her kids choices. Even some of the stupider ones Harry had made.

Was she ranked among those now?

"Why do you ask?" The gentleness in a Gemma's voice told Emma she knew more than she was saying.

Emma couldn't explain, she was still in such a tender state, like a fissured piece of glass, she knew she couldn't go over it. "I just hope Harry's happy."  It was the only true thing she could say.

And Gemma, bless her just looped her arm through Emma's and said like she was holding a cracked egg. "He is." She left it at that, before she stood, pulling Emma after her. "And we need another drink." Apparently Emma was drinking, she needed it.

They spent another couple hours at the pub and Emma walked home through the soft snow. Her nose was stuffy, and her eyes were leaking, and she was drunk. Least she realized she must be, cuz she was crying. She really hated crying.

She was still weeping under her breath when she got home and found Harry on her doorstoop.

"You're still here?" She boggled. She assumed he'd taken his girlfriend to his big London home Emma had never been to, since she wasn't ever his g word.

"Yeah." He rubbed his hands over his corduroy flares. She'd consider what that might mean, but the pants distracted her. Those were new, must be getting fashion influences from new places, mew people. Those pants were roomy for him. He looked good in them. He looked good, happy.

"Did you need something?" Seeing himwas ripping her guts out and she could barely keep more tears at bay. Her insides were dangerously close to the skin now, tender and exposed. She hoped the distance between them and the weather and, well, maybe his rose colored glasses brought on by loving some other girl, he wouldn't notice her crying.

Over him. At the moment.

"No, I, um," he swallowed. "I thought we might talk." He made those green eyes at her and she hated it. Cuz they were soft and for someone else these days.

"I think we've said it all."

"We haven't said anything, not really, in a year."

"Yeah, well actions over words mate." Good, she was angry. She tried to go around him, into her door. Out of the cold and this situation.

"Emma, wait." He caught her shoulders and her blood froze in her veins but her tears were hot on her cheeks. "I'mso sorry about your dad." He choked up too.

She looked at him and let hurt run down her face, didn't even bother trying to stiffen her upper lip. When he opened his arms, she went to him and cried in a way she really hadn't let herself, into the comfort of his scent, the hurt of his presence.

Emma wasn't sure how long she cried, they wound up siting on the cold stone bench when their knocking knees froze.

"S that why you used the ticket?" He whispered against her hair sometime later.

She nodded. Sniffed up her tears and his pain laced smell.

"Why didn't you call me?"

She shrugged.

"I would have understood. And I would have come, to be with you."

Her tears apparently hadn't run out. She knew that, but she was hurt, by his hurt and his expectation.

She looked up at him. Her lips were so close to his, the outer edge that felt so plush and lovely.

That was a Liberty she didn't have. Maybe never a right she had, like him just expecting her to drop her goals to go to him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" She said the word like the four letters it felt like it was to her.

"Um," he stumbled over the subject change . "She was tired."

"You tell her you were coming to see a girl you used to fuck?"

"What?" He looked at her with a frown and Emma supposed she was being mean, mean but honest. "Don't say it like that. That's not what we were about."

Emma quirked a brow at him. "No?"

"Listen, why are you being like this?" He swallowed and looked like the wronged party when he was the one who assumed the worst of her, then abandoned her, moved on, and showed up, she could only assume, to rub it in her face.

The last year had been the worst of her life, and he'd been part of that. Mostly his absence.

Whoever's fault that was.

"Look, I don't need your pity or your condolences. Or your forgiveness. You just assumed I was taking advantage of you like you didn't know me at all. Which I realized is true apart from knowing what I look like naked, right? Let's be honest Harry? Huh, I'm just the girl you used to fuck over break. Your Christmas bit of fun. Til you found your next model. Who you couldn't wait to come home and show off, right in my face. So if we were more, you're a heartless asshole." She was crying over him now, but half the tears at least were angry and her face must be bright red.

The kicked puppy look on his face was so genuine and felt so false to her she could scream. "Why would I even think you would care if I had a girlfriend or not? If anybody was just the person the other thought of as a holiday fling, it was you about me, Emma."  He huffed, took down the finger he'd stood up to point at her. "I tried for more, asked for more?"

"When?" He'd asked for more, how'd she miss that?

"What'd you think the ticket was for? That was me asking you for more, at least more time?"

"I don't have extra time." She countered. Emma supposed that was some mealy mouthed passive way of saying you wanted to spend time with a person at least.

"And I do?" He yelled that before taking a big breath and muttering sorry. "Listen, I know what you're about, and that you are very serious saving the world, but I'm just as busy as you, more, and I would have made time for you."

"Why?" She stood up into his space. "So I could just miss you more, fall more for you and not get to have you in any real way? To torture myself?" And there is was. Emma knew the ache of the first weeks without him, and she'd always counted their brief time together as worth it. Subjecting herself to more just seemed masochistic. "Have more time with you so I have to get over you all over again multiple times a year."

"Who says you would have had to get over me? We could have been together!" Both of their voices had escalated past the bounds of polite disagreement.

"Together in every way except literally?" She threw her hands out at her sides. "What's the point of that?"

"The point?" He huffed. "The point is that I wanted you and you wanted me, and we could have had each other, but you're too busy," he sneered, "and couldn't talk to me."

"I couldn't talk to anyone!" She screamed. "I was supposed to text you that my dad died and I needed to use the ticket that was supposed to be a gift but was more like a curse, to take care of my mom. That my dream was at best on hold while I made sure my mum could get out of bed?" He looked a little slapped. "While you were off what? Being a rockstar? Having a record breaking year? Moving on? Out of spite?!" She didn't want to think that, but she'd wondered. She knew she was giving herself to much credit. "Why you made sure to bring her to Holmes Chapel? You take her to the Boar's Head too? Or just fuck her in your mum's powder room?" The words were explosive, the cadence like charges lighting off each other. Emma felt like a powder keg.

He was shaking his head. "Stop it. No, no, I didn't move on, not until I thought you were done with me."

"Oh, when I needed you and you wouldn't answer my calls?"

He looked at the ground then. When his eyes came up , the lovely green of them was even more vibrant, due to the tears crowding around their ages. "Emma, I'm so sorry about that. I'll never forgive myself."

His sincerity softened her, though the anger she'd wrapped around herself like a coat was all that was keeping her ribs together.

"I'm so sorry, I know the last year has been more than anybody should have to bear, especially alone." He took  a big breath. "But Camille, I didn't, it's not," he stumbled over the words like they were glass edges, but Emma had a feeling she was the one who was about to get cut. "Um, she and I just met and, well, we, we get on." That was a kind way to put it. "I wasn't looking for somebody else. But I was lonely and she's," the changes on his face ripped through Emma. "She's lovely. I brought her home, because I wanted mum to meet her." That told Emma everything.

"You love her?" She already knew the answer.

He ran his hand through his locks, avoided eye contact until the last second, "yeah, yeah, I think I might."

Emma was nodding, biting her lip to gatekeep the fresh round of tears threatening. "That's good Harry, I'm," she breathed, "I'm happy for you."

He looked at her then. "Really?"

"Course, I care about you, your happiness." That brought on the tears and he reached for her and she had to throw up her hands to keep him away. "No, no, please don't touch me."

His phone rang, he was the only person she knew who actually kept their ringer on. Well the only person under 50, it made her smile. Then cringe, the weird personal knowledge she had because of how much of an almost they were. From his face, Emma knew it was his actual calling.

"Um," he shady buttoned the call. "I have to go."

"Yeah," was all she could respond with, she already knew that. "Well, have a happy nee year Harry. You sticking around?" God she hoped not. May have to convince her mum to go to London if so.

He shook his head, "Um no, we're going to Paris." Ouch. Emma tried for subtle when she wrapped an arm around herself. "Sorry, I'd like," he always looked so genuine lately, in every interview she'd watched to hurt herself, his heart on his sleeve, in his eyes now. "I'd like to hug you, think you could stomach it?"

Emma nodded and went to him for the barest second and then concentrated on the pressure behind her eyes while he kept her close. "I'm so sorry Emma, for everything. I'd really like to be friends," he'd pulled back to hold her eye line at that.

She nodded, she wasn't sure how she'd handle that, but at best it was a couple phone calls, and no weekends away, they hadn't mentioned that in their middle state, she didn't think it would be to hard to keep him at arms length when they had continents between them most times. "Yeah, ok, friends. You take care of yourself, Harry." Emma was a strong girl, woman now, she could handle some texts and a phone call or so.

He kissed her cheek, a continental affectation she closed her eyes over and turned to go. He was almost out of the gate when he turned back. "I'd never take her to the Boar's Head, by the way, that's our place. I'd never take anybody else there." Before she could even think of a response he looked away quick and started to go. "Take care of yourself, Emma. Happy New Year." That came back to her on the wind.

Blew away like the hold she had on the heart she'd given him last Christmas. At least he was someone special.

[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (4/8)

If you’d like to read at AO3, you may do so here. 

June 4, 2018

Mulder stood in the kitchen wearing only sweatpants, the rented house quiet around him. Scully had headed to the local Meijer for supplies of every stripe, and both kids had leapt at the chance to go with her, a rare occurrence the last few years, but a clear result of forced low profile and cabin fever.

He was nursing a rare cup of caffeinated coffee and watching a black squirrel make a nuisance of itself on the residence’s sole backyard bird feeder. When his new cell phone rang, he answered it out of muscle memory.

“Hello?”

“Hello Fox,” said the person on the other end of the line, “aren’t you a sound for sore ears.”

It took him a moment to place the voice.

“Lauren,” he said after a moment, smiling into the receiver, “it’s good to hear from you, too. I take it you got the information I sent you?”

Mulder had had Frohike send her their contact information as they’d previously agreed, and he assumed this was the first of her planned unplanned check-ins.

“It was a little cloak and dagger, even for the District,” she said, and Mulder could hear her smile over the line.

“And I always thought you lived for the drama,” he said companionably.

“Well, I got to wear my best Carmen SanDiego hat, so I guess I can’t be mad.”

Mulder chuckled into the receiver.

“How’s it going?” Lauren asked, her tone shifting to one of sober inquiry.

“It’s going.”

“Dana okay?” her question was sincere, and Mulder marveled how time could change a person.

“She’s good,” he said, “healthy. All systems go. I’m sure she’d want me to send you her best.”

“And the kids? How are they handling it all?”

Mulder sighed.

Will was adjusting, but Lily was miserable. Lonely and bored, unable to talk to friends back home and without the specter and excitement of starting school in the fall. She’d even begged to be able to get a summer job, even as just a waitress at the local Bennigan’s, but Mulder didn’t like the idea of her being away from the house for hours at a time, and Scully wasn’t sold on their borrowed Social Security numbers passing an employment check.

“The kids are… okay.”

“Going that well, huh?” she asked.

“Lil is pretty miserable,” he admitted.

“Of course she’s miserable,” Lauren scolded him, “she’s 18 years old and stuck in a house with her well-meaning parents. She should be at the beach with friends getting day drunk on Bud Light-”

“-she would never-” Mulder interrupted, to which Lauren outright laughed in his ear.

“-I assure you, she already has!”

Mulder sighed again. “Aside from dropping her off at the lake and buying her a rack of shit beer, you got any ideas?”

“College boys in tight pants,” Lauren said.

“Excuse me?” Mulder asked, taken aback.

“Take the family to a football game Fox, you’re in a Big Ten town for Christ’s sake.”

“It’s not football season yet.”

“Just take her somewhere with a lot of people. And give her a little bit of freedom. And when it is football season?”

“Yeah?” Mulder asked.

“Take her to see the tight pants.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

 September 3, 2018

It had been months and they started to relax, maybe a bit too much. They were alert, but comfortable. Maybe complacent, Mulder couldn't tell. All he knew was that if he kept the kids in the house for much longer, they'd kill each other and possibly him and Scully in the crossfire, and it would defeat the whole purpose of their hiding out. That said, all was quiet on the homefront -- Darlene and the Gunmen, and to a lesser extent, Doggett, Reyes and Skinner -- had heard nothing with their ears to the ground.

He and Scully had discussed it, and decided that they would let the kids out of the house. They allowed them to socialize occasionally, if they promised to be careful. Will had made a couple of friends around the neighborhood, playing roller hockey in their cul de sac, but Lily hadn't had as much luck, or as much motivation. She had been quiet and keeping mostly to herself, and come September, Mulder had decided to finally take Lauren's advice. They were going to a football game.

William was beside himself with excitement which made up for Lily's lack of enthusiasm. Scully had opted out of attending, citing her increasing need of accessible bathrooms and the inevitable long lines at ladies rooms in sports arenas.

They took the bus to the edge of the MSU campus -- the first time any of them had been on it since moving to the town several months before. There were people everywhere -- most dressed in the hometown colors of green and white, but a rare few -- looking as lost on campus as the Mulders themselves -- in the brown and gold of the visiting team.

Mulder had ducked into the student union to get a campus map, whereupon William insisted he buy all three of them something supporting the hometown team. Lily opted out, but William and Mulder walked out each in a brand new ball cap, the brims stiff and flat -- in addition, William was carrying a big foam finger emblazoned with the number 1 and the gruff face of Michigan State's Spartan mascot, Sparty.

"It's this way," Mulder said, consulting his map and pointing south, and they set off following streams of people headed toward the stadium which sat in the middle of campus.

The day was delightfully mild, and while the sun shone, there were fat clouds everywhere that would cover it as soon as you were at risk of overheating. There seemed to be tailgate parties set up at increasing concentrations the closer they got to the stadium, the air thick with the scent of grilling meat and tinny stereos playing the home school's fight song.

There were frat boys throwing a football back and forth every thirty or so feet, and crowds of coeds sipping beer from green Solo cups, hovering around games of corn hole and beer pong, laughing while they clung to each other like the last few Cheerios floating in a bowl of milk.

Mulder stole a glance at Lily, who looked at them wistfully. School had just started here at Michigan State and the week before at UVA, and Mulder could tell his daughter was fairly heartbroken about not being able to attend.

Mulder pulled up short and Lily and William both stopped several steps past him and turned to look at him expectantly.

"One sec," he said and walked over to a large tent wherein an alumni organization was selling hot dogs and brats to raise funds. He bought three bratwurst and a couple of sodas and walked them back to his kids, hands full and pockets overflowing with napkins and little packets of ketchup and mustard.

He nodded toward a low stone wall that ran along the length of one of the sidewalks and they all sat down and ate sloppily, ketchup plopping to the sidewalk that they leaned over so as not to spill on their clothes. William was of course done first and snapped open his soda, slurping from it happily.

"They call it pop here," he said, raising his can and giving his father a cheeky smirk.

"No one cares, Billy," Lily said, wiping her lips delicately with a napkin and setting the last quarter of the brat on the wall beside her. "I'm stuffed," she declared.

Will happily scarfed the rest of her sausage and Mulder was about to suggest they start moving again toward the stadium when a frisbee glided through the air and scuffed to the ground at their feet. Lily jumped off the wall and picked it up, looking around to find its owner, who was trotting toward them in droopy cargo shorts and an overlarge school shirt that said "I BLEED GREEN."

Mulder shook his head as Lily pulled back and winged it back toward the guy, sailing it in a perfect arc into his waiting hands.

The kid smiled at her, teeth and all.

"Nice arm!" the kid said, giving her one more charming look before trotting back toward his friends who were waiting further across the Diag that cut through the center of campus.

Mulder glanced at Lily who was wearing a small but fading smile.

He stood, balling up the napkin and sausage detritus. He turned to Lily impulsively.

"You want a beer?" he asked her.

She almost blanched and gave him a queer look.

"A beer?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "you're a college kid now, no reason you shouldn't enjoy a cold one before a football game like all these other coeds."

Lily gave him a suspicious look just as Will piped up, "I want a beer."

"No," Mulder said, cutting off any complaints with a sharp look and then he walked over to a fraternity tent and talked for a moment to the kid that was manning the keg. After a few words, he handed over a few bills of cash and returned to his kids, handing Lily a dripping plastic cup.

He took a sip of his own cup and inclined his head at his daughter.

"Not the best," he said, while she took a tentative sip.

She smiled over the rim of the cup but kept her eyes on the ground.

"Tastes like college," she said, and Mulder couldn't help but smile.

XxX

"Hey Frisbee," Lily heard from several feet to her right.

She stood up from the drinking fountain in a nook of the stadium in between lavatories, and used her wrist to wipe her mouth dry.

The guy who lost his frisbee at her feet while they were eating before the game was standing only yards away, a small cocksure smile on his lips. Lily tilted her head at him.

"I thought that was you," he went on.

She nodded awkwardly and stepped away from the drinking fountain so the person behind her could drink.

"I think you're in the wrong stadium," he said, and when she looked at him in confusion, he smiled kindly and pointed at her shirt.

She'd donned a UVA sweatshirt for the game out of a sense of loyalty or rebellion (she wasn't sure which, if she were being honest) and she only realized when they stepped onto campus how much it actually made her stand out.

"This isn't the UVA game?" she said mock seriously, "God, I took a left heading into Charlottesville and I guess I should have taken a right." The comment earned her a chuckle and a genuine smile. "Guess the extra ten hours in the car should have been my first clue."

The guy took a few steps toward her and held out his hand.

"Travis," he said by way of introduction, and she shook his hand politely. It was warm in hers, and his grip was firm but brief.

"Lillian," Lily said, almost forgetting to introduce herself with her cover name.

"That's pretty," Travis said, and Lily could feel herself blushing, feeling awkward that it wasn't really her name. "So you go to UVA?"

She nodded. "Deferred for a semester while my folks moved here." Her father had told her to stick as close as she could to their actual stories when telling people their covers in order to keep it all straight.

"Cool," said Travis. They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"I should get back to my seat," she said, "halftime's almost over."

People were streaming back into the seating areas, and she could hear the marching band keeping tempo as they marched off the field.

Travis shoved his hands into his pockets and for a moment looked slightly bashful.

"Yeah," he said, turning away and taking a few steps, before turning back. "Hey, you want to hang out sometime?"

Lily thought to herself that just about anything sounded better than having to spend one more night at home playing Hearts at the dining room table.

"Sure," she said, and Travis pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She put in the number of the phone that Darlene had given her and felt only a little weird entering "Lillian" in the name box.

When she handed Travis back the phone, he used his other hand to lightly touch her arm.

"Hey, it was nice meeting you," he said.

"You too," she smiled and wandered back to her seat, trying very hard to keep a smile off her face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So..." Scully started, not sure how to broach the subject, other than just to spit it out, "Lily wants to know if she can go 'hang out with a guy.'"

She was sitting at the dining room table sipping on an iced tea, the dew of condensation slippery and cold on her fingertips. She was feeling pendulous and heavy, the high of the second trimester given way to the rolling agony of the third. Her husband, as she had suspected he would, looked suddenly aghast.

"She... what?"

"She got asked out, Mulder, and would like to know if it was okay with us if she went."

William came breezing through the kitchen then, opening up the fridge door and hanging in front of it, blankly staring at its contents, unimpressed.

"Pick something or don't, Will," Mulder said testily to his current youngest, "but please stop letting all the cold out of the fridge."

Will grabbed a soda and stood while the fridge door closed on its own behind him.

"That's Billy to you," he said, mocking insult, and made his way slowly out of the kitchen, staring at Mulder who affectionately reached out as he passed and messed his red curls into an orange soda froth on the top of his head.

"You need a haircut," Mulder said, and Will lifted his nose, shaking his hair out with dignified hauteur.

"So do you," the boy said and left the room.

Scully chuckled. "Don't take it out on him," she said.

Mulder shook himself and turned back to her.

"Take what out on him?"

"That your daughter is growing up and you're not ready. You look like you did the night she went to prom with Derek Smead."

Mulder looked completely affronted.

"He didn't even come to the house! He just had the limo honk and she ran out the door. You didn't get any pictures! Who does that? No self-respecting gentleman. I honestly still don't believe he's a real person."

Scully chuckled again. "And she left him at the dance after an hour and took the limo with five friends to the Sonic drive-in. She's got a good head on her shoulders, Mulder."

"I know she does."

"So what do you think? Is it safe to let her date?"

"I don't like it."

"I didn't ask if you liked it. I asked if you thought it was safe."

Mulder blew out a raspberry. Scully knew that he was thinking the same thing she was -- they'd let Will hang out with a few new friends so long as he was careful. Lily arguably had more common sense by nature of her age (and her gender, thought Scully). She would take precautions and employ the minimal tradecraft Mulder and Scully had taught her.

"What do you think?" Mulder asked her.

"I think she's 18 years old and we're lucky she even ran it by us. If she were away at school, she'd be making these decisions for herself."

Mulder's shoulders slumped.

"As long as she's careful," he finally said.

"I'll give her some condoms," Scully muttered, an offhand remark.

"Scully!" Mulder blanched.

"I just wanted to see the look on your face," Scully laughed.

Mulder shook his head and turned to walk out of the room.

Scully was still chuckling minutes later.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey Frisbee," said a voice from behind her.

Lily turned to see Travis standing several feet away in the middle of the footbridge. He was wearing black flip flops, a pair of long khaki shorts and a navy blue polo shirt. His hair -- dark tousled waves, cut short but shaggy -- was poking in all directions out of a  university ball cap, which, she was relieved to see, was pristinely white without a yellowing band of sweat or scuzz. His face looked freshly shaved and he was smiling.

"Hey yourself," she said, and took a step toward him.

He reached into his pocket as she approached and pulled out a ziplock sandwich bag, filled with a gritty grey substance. She took it with some hesitation.

"Is this... a bag of oatmeal?" she asked.

He colored and put both hands up.

"Okay, so: I was going to bring your flowers, but then I thought you know what would be cute? Flour . So I went to our pantry and I'm looking at this giant bag of flour and I'm like what the hell is she going to do with a giant bag of flour? And then I saw the oatmeal and thought -- well, we're meeting on the footbridge, we could feed the ducks! ...So I brought you oatmeal. Bread is bad for ducks."

Despite the lengthy diatribe, Lily laughed. "It was nice of you to think of the ducks," she said.

"Well," he said, and walked with her to the railing of the footbridge, which crossed the Red Cedar River. "The bag itself is multipurpose. If you think it'd be fun, I thought we could rent a canoe later and go down the river?"

"What does that have to do with the bag?" she asked, leaning over the railing and looking down into the tannin-tinted water. A cluster of ducks, trained to anticipate food, swam quickly toward them.

"We can put our phones in it," he said, leaning into her shoulder a little. "I myself have been through the gauntlet of canoe training at Camp Quitcherbitchin as a young lad, but you're an unknown quantity, Frisbee. What if you dunk us? I aim to save our electronics."

Lily laughed again, charmed despite herself. She opened the baggie and threw a handful of oats to the waiting ducks below, which scurried as fast as they could swim for the feast. Lily offered Travis some, and he took a handful and cast it out. They fed the ducks for a minute or so of comfortable silence.

Finally, Lily asked: "Camp Quitcherbitchin?"

Travis smiled.

"Sleep-away summer camp up north. I went every year. It's actually called Camp Nageesh, but some of the counselors were somewhat less than tolerant of complaints, so the campers called it Quitcherbitchin.”

Lily chuckled. "Canoes, huh?"

"Plus sailboats, swimming and archery. I refuse to divulge which I have a higher level of competency in, in case you're some kind of polymath with a competitive bent."

"You aren't one of those guys who can't stand it when a girl is better than you at something, are you?" Lily asked.

“Are you a polymath with a competitive bent?” Travis grabbed another handful of oatmeal and threw it toward a mother with a brood of ducklings that were having trouble getting into the mix.

“I’ve got some game,” Lily said, arching an eyebrow that would have made her mother proud.

"In that case," he said, turning toward her. His eyes were a mossy green, like her father's. He  gave her a small smile, “I look forward to being outmatched."

"Well," said Lily, intrigued. She scattered out the last bit of oatmeal and, blowing some of the grit from the bag, put her phone into it and handed it to Travis for him to do the same. "Let's see what you're made of, Paddles."

XxX

"We seem to be drifting a bit to starboard," Lily called over her shoulder. Travis had taken the backseat ("Do you mind if I steer?" he'd asked). They'd managed to board and push off okay -- the bored-looking livery attendant having given them minimal instruction, but held the craft as they both lifted themselves gingerly aboard.

"I'm aware of that," said Travis, his voice a little tense for the first time.

"You said you were steering," she teased him. They were rapidly making for the opposite shore of the river, the canoe swinging sideways with the current.

"I'm aware of that too," he said back, and then a moment later, she felt the canoe sway radically, followed by a splash. She grabbed the side of the craft for dear life and then swung her head to look behind her. Travis had jumped out of the canoe and was now holding it by the triangle at the stern with one hand, paddle in the other; halting their momentum, which had been about to take them into a bramble of cedar branches hanging low over the water.

"Oh my god!" Lily squeaked. "Are you okay? Did you fall?"

"I jumped," Travis said, "If you headed home with a rat's nest of cedar sprays in your hair, you might not go out with me again."

"And they say chivalry is dead," Lily said, setting her oar down on the bottom of the canoe.

"Will you go out with me again?" Travis said hopefully, and the smile he flashed her made her want to say yes, but instead she teased:

"Too early to make that call."

"This water is really cold, Lillian," he said, and turned, pulling the canoe behind him into the water upstream and back toward the livery.

"It looks it," Lily said. "If I do go out with you again, let's stick with something land-based, huh?"

Travis threw a grin at her and kept trudging, clearly trying his best to keep the craft steady so she didn't fall in herself. She checked her pockets briefly for their phones, which she'd offered to hold on to, and watched him. The river was relatively shallow -- he was a tall guy and the water was only soaking the cuff of his shorts.

"Your parents should call Camp Quitcherbitchin and get their money back, Travis," she said, canting her face up to the sun and closing her eyes briefly. She shrieked when the canoe suddenly lurched to one side. She grabbed the side and looked at her date, who had stopped and was wearing a mischievous grin. He was still wearing the dorky orange life jacket that they'd been required to don, and the whole situation made Lily start laughing.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," Travis said, turning again to continue the trudge back to base. "I'll have you know that I learned how to canoe on a lake. I forgot to account for one variable."

"The current?" Lily asked.

"The current," he admitted.

They made it back to shore and he helped her out of the canoe, explaining to the still benumbed livery worker that they wouldn't be back, but still throwing a soggy five dollar bill in the tip jar. After retrieving his flip flops from the bottom of the small boat, he offered to take Lily to the campus Dairy Store for ice cream.

"Your campus has a Dairy Store?" she asked him curiously.

"This is Moo U, Lillian," he explained, steering her a few blocks from the river to a large brick building beyond the main engineering hall. "This street is Farm Lane. We have cattle."

Once inside they reviewed the offerings, and Lily noticed that they had a flavor for every university in the Big Ten conference -- even their arch rivals. About which he announced, "I'll buy you anything but the Maize & Blueberry. I like you, but even I have my limits."

Once they had their cones (she with Boilermaker Brownie and he with Hoosier Daddy ("basically strawberry," he explained)), they settled onto a picnic table in the shade.

"So," Travis said, licking a drop that had melted onto his knuckle, "why'd you end up deferring this semester?"

Lily swallowed the bite in her mouth without chewing. They had prepared cover stories but she hadn't yet needed to use hers. Stick with the truth as much as you can , said her father's voice.

"My dad got a job here and my mom is pregnant. She was on bedrest for a while and needed help."

Travis was looking at her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn't -- continuing to nervously lick her cone. After a long moment of waiting, he kindly plowed ahead, asking her about her major and telling her about his. He was a sophomore, from a town in the northern part of the state, and she found him inherently easy to talk to and interesting, and wondered, idly, if that was because he really was interesting or if she were just starved for company and attention.

When they finished up, they threw away their napkins in a nearby trash can and stood looking at each other, only a little awkwardly.

“So... “ Travis started, “still too early to make the call?”

She smiled, remembering what she’d told him in the canoe about going out with him again. “I like your chances.”

He smiled back and she felt a little thrill. “Lillian, will you go out with me again?” he asked.

“Dry land stuff?”

“The driest.”

“In that case, yes.”

She was still feeling the soft kiss he'd given her cheek hours later as she sat around the dining room table, fielding invasive questions from her father and trying to avoid her mother’s eye.

[graveyard-tales]

OKay, branching on this idea, I love the idea of Cas and Dean raising Jack and falling, kinda sorta but not really, into the farm life but by complete accident. (whomp, this got longer than I intended)

Dean buys an old rundown home in rural Kansas. I mean a totally shit house But Dean has experience in construction and what he doesn’t know he can watch videos and wing it. He’s pretty good at fixing shit and he’s confident he can accomplish it. It’s a lot of work and it’s slow going but with Sam and Cas’ help, it goes smoother than he thought. Logically he knows he can probably ask Jack and the kid could snap his fingers and materialize a cool ass house but Dean want’s this to be his by his own hands.

That and now that Jack is a child, it’d feel weird asking his kind of five year old kind of son to make him a house. Especially since there would probably be slides to ride downstairs an the living room would be like a bounce house.

Cas lives with him of course, it didn’t even occur to him that Cas would live anywhere else. Doesn’t matter that he technically still has a room at the Bunker, which Sam and Elieen, despite not living there themselves, have turned it into a sort of info hub / hotel for hunters / safehouse for supernatural beings in need / auto shop for whenever Dean is in town and a hunter/friend needs a tune-up. 

They kind of just not talked about the confession but they’re good. They’re great!  Cas is still his best friend and Dean doesn’t have to process one of the worst moments of his life that could possibly lead to one of the best but he’s not thinking about that. Dean’s got a house to fix. And because Cas lives there, Jack lives there. Privately hey all agree it might be best anyways, for everyone to live away from all the grief and trauma that happened there.

One morning Cas mentions something about having chickens. They certainly have the space for it. He talks about a book that Jack had taken from school and how he never took the time to appreciate the variety of them. Later, out of curiosity and boredom, Dean look up chickens and finds out there are super low maintenance, plus they’d have free eggs. So he just builds a coop. Long and larger, maybe more than it needs to be and totally fenced and presents it to Cas and Jack who immediately start ordering chickens. Dean ends up having to go back and add more nesting boxes because no one could decide on which chickens to get, not to mentions the types of eggs various chickens lay. 

Dean likes to pretend that he doesn’t really care about the chickens but when he goes out while they’re roaming the yard or sitting in the coop, he always has one specific chicken on his lap. He names her BBQ, Jack calls her beebee-cutie, to which Dean makes a scene of hating but calls her that whenever it’s just Dean and her. 

Cas starts a garden on his own. He’s decided that he too is retired. Fuck if angels can officially retire or not but he is and he want’s a garden with fresh and pesticide-free vegetables to feed his son and no one is going to stop him. And Cas loves every second of it, the garden is his and every plant is his babies. He also grows  berries. He and Dean set up a tiny little orchard with the various fruits they can grow in the area. The property already had a giant walnut in the front of the house.

Dean doesn’t even think about asking, he just gets Cas bees. He doesn’t fuck with it and it’s on the far end of the property but they’re there doing their bee business. Cas loves and tends to them with much care.

They have two little pygmy goats one day. No one in the immediate area has goats and Cas didn’t buy them so where the fuck did they come from? Dean sees the little farm picture book that Jack was reading and he has a pretty good idea after that. Cas is good at sighing like he means it and tells Dean they just have no choice but to take care of them and Dean grumbles as he spends the next several hours researching fucking goats.

They’ve technically had cats since they bought the place. Three feral cats that they can recognize and of course started feeding. One keeps it’s distance, one won’t get closer than a two feet out of reach and one just decided that they were their cat after the first hotdog was tossed.

Dean is adamant that they will not get a dog. No, it’s not because he’s afraid, shut up. Cas understands and is the one that persuades Jack into not asking for one let alone materializing it out of thin air. And that’s that until Dean comes home after driving through a torrent storm with a bundle under his coat. It’s a little mutt, one can only guess what the breed actually is but even as a puppy they know it wouldn’t get bigger. Dean goes on justifying why he has it, how he isn’t heartless and couldn’t leave it in the rain. That the moment the rain lets up he’s taking it to the pound. That by the end of the week he’ll take it to the pound. That by the end of the month he’ll have found a good home for it, yes he’s actually looking. 

The dog’s name is rain and she’s Dean’s special baby girl.

Dean and Cas take turns taking and picking up Jack from school so they just assume that that they’re together. They live together so Sam and Eileen think they’re together but in secret. Everyone who meets them think that they’re together but Dean and Cas. 

Dean never brought up the confession so Cas just assumes that Dean is sparing him an outright rejection. 

Cas never brought it up so Dean just assumes that Cas must have changed his mind. Cas doesn’t want to fuck me??? Must have been a fluke I guess, that doesn’t make me feel terrible, nope nope nope.

Because these fuckers never talk to each other they just fall into a domestic farm-ish life with their kinda-god son. They don’t even try not to be affectionate with one another, which leaves Cas confused often. Never really voicing it but he starts to realize what they have before Dean is. Cas likes to reflect in his garden, and among his bees. He also talks to the chickens and even though they can’t talk back in a language he understands, he deems them very insightful. Looking back and examining the now, Cas realizes Dean’s feelings before Dean does. Somehow he is not surprised but annoyed he may have to be the one to make a move on his behalf. 

Because of all the honey, eggs, fruits and vegetables, beyond what they can consume, jar, dry and even throw Sam’s way, Cas and Dean open a stand at the farmers market. Dean blocks Sam from mocking him because he isn’t there to buy, he is there to sell, so he retains his right to be the mocker not the mocked. He’s the eldest, Sam, it doesn’t have to make sense to be right. 

Dean becomes instant friends with the elder woman to the left who makes pastries from her peaches and pecans and the lesbian couple to the right who make candles and soaps.

The old woman mentions what a cute couple they make and Dean just doesn’t respond and Cas just pointedly looks at him. Dean is starting to suspect something at this point.

The couple’s dog have puppies at some point and they offer one up to Cas and Dean and Cas accepts before Dean can refuse. And since he won’t admit he’s terrified of their huge ass dog, because he’s not, he can’t exactly argue against it because Dean technically has a dog so it’s only fair Jack can have one too.

I could literally go on and on but this post has gotten away from meeeeee. I just love this idea so much!!

[jezkier]

Hansa Wolfpack Daemon AU

this au has lived rent-free in my head for months. The worldbuilding has been fun and I wanted to put it somewhere. It's just a pile of silly headcanons without an actual narrative

The concept is this:

the entire hansa has wolf daemons. all of them. they are the strangest, most ragtag little pack anyone has ever seen.

This is mostly the product of me imagining a pile of wolf daemons asleep on top of each other. a whole dang pack. and Geralt's daemon is at the bottom of the pile so she and Geralt can't slink off in the middle of the night bc Geralt got too broody and wanted to be Noble and Self-Sacrificing and Not Endanger His Pals

I also think it's really funny to imagine Cahir staring into a campfire, thinking about things, and then out of the blue he says something like "Does anyone else think it's a little strange we all have wolf-shaped daemons? That seems... weirdly serendipitous." and the rest of the hansa looks at each other for a moment. and then they're all simultaneously like "uh. no? not even a little, wtf are you on about" and he drops the subject forever

Geralt's daemon is this beautiful, gloriously fluffy white wolf, BUT she is very much the smallest of their patchwork pack. She is always brushed and clean and groomed and her ears are small and kind of rounded. She's dangerously close to adorably cute. which drives both her and Geralt nuts because they're supposed to be Big Fierce Scary Monster Hunters. But it also means that sometimes kids' daemons will approach her out of curiosity in villages where they don't get visitors very often and then skitter back, terrified, when they realize she's a witcher's daemon

the rest of the hansa's daemons joke among themselves on the reg that they have to Protect The Sweet Leetle Baby At All Costs, which makes Geralt want to commit arson

Dandelion's daemon is a gangly, rangy, feral-looking, patchy brown she-wolf that he absolutely adores. He loves her so fucking much and won't hear a word said against her. Just think she hangs the moon or whatever. It drives him batshit insane whenever people confuse his perfect beautiful goddess of a daemon for Geralt's. (Because lbr, it's very easy for the average person to assume that the scruffy, flea-bitten wolf daemon belongs to the scruffy, flea-bitten witcher) In this universe, Dandelion starts up the whole White Wolf schtick bc he's sick and tired of random townspeople confusing his beautiful sweet perfect darling with Geralt's daemon when they travel together

Milva's daemon has no problem going after Geralt's daemon when she and Geralt are in a Mood. He doesn't hesitate to nip at her, or lick at her, or straight up sit on her, mostly because his tolerance for sulky brooding is much lower than Milva's. And her tolerance for that type of nonsense is already pretty damn low. Her daemon would rather get the pity parties over with ASAP and doesn't mind speeding the process along however he sees fit

He kind of freaks Geralt & his daemon out at first, bc no one's daemons (with a precious few exceptions, like Dandelion/maybe the other wolf witchers/Yen) have any interest in getting close to a witcher's daemon.

Angoulême's daemon is the biggest of the bunch. He's a scary-looking boy. All big muscle and coarse fur and gravely growling. He radiates "no NOT fuck with me." But he's also a huge goof and extremely playful in a very wolfy way when he and Angoulême let their guard down. A literal giant puppy. He takes to the little pack immediately. The first night Angouleme was with the rest of the hansa, he dropped his fat ass on top of the daemon cuddle puddle without asking and made himself comfortable. He snores when he sleeps on his back. Angouleme's pack of boyfriends in Toussaint think he's hot shit. He and Angoulême bicker pretty frequently and have a whole array of rude names they call each other. But for as often and as publicly as they fight, they rarely don't make up within a day. (He settled at a much younger age than most people)

Higher vampires didn't have daemons until after the Conjunction, and even then not all higher vampires wound up with daemons at all. Regis and his daemon don't know what to do with each other at first. Regis misses being able to fly sometimes, but he's v fond of his daemon and wouldn't trade her for anything. But she's terrifying to regular humans, and has been mistaken for a shuck or a grim when they weren't careful. She can kinda sorta change her shape a little to make herself less scary, but if she does it for too long, it gets uncomfortable for both her and Regis in an itchy sort of way

Geralt learns first hand that the idea you can identify a higher vampire by all their canon traits AND their lack of a daemon is wrong in about 95% of cases

Other daemons don't think she looks scary for some reason. They get kind of confused when their humans get freaked out by her. it's a vampire thing

Cahir's daemon is officially recorded as being "high percentage wolfdog." wolf daemons are outright banned from miliatary service bc of "a high incidence of unpredictable, disloyal conduct." It cost Cahir's family a boatload of money for the seal on that document, but the worse part is that anyone who looks at his daemon for more than 3 seconds can tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that there's no dog anywhere in her. No one seriously questions it though (at first)

(Bonus)

Yen's raven daemon tends to be a bit standoffish, but that has more to do with the fact he's a raven and ravens aren't usually interested in slobbery roughhousing. He will admit this to exactly no one, not even Yen herself, but he likes to privately imagine Geralt's daemon's long winter coat is feathers so he can pretend he's grooming her properly

[pa-panda-heroes]

Ahhh I love your blog! May I ask for hc’s of the league figuring out that the female reader is very flexible and into yoga?(●’◡’●)

thank you very much!! I love seeing you in my notifications btw ( ◠‿◠ ) it means a lot to see you there.

LoV figuring out female reader is very flexible and into yoga!

Tomura:

Tomura would honestly find out accidentally. It would take either one of the other members telling him accidentally or his walking in on you while you’re in action.

He’s quite impressed at your balance and flexibility and admires it. He has to wonder if you put in a lot of time and effort to become so flexible.

If you try hard enough, you can convince him to join you and learn yoga himself, but he has to watch you a few times and see what it’s about before he decides to or not.

He’ll just sit and gawk silently, mostly in awe because woah, that looks uncomfortable and you’re so flexible. Throw a downward-facing dog his way and you’ll catch him moving his head to the side as if to track yours.

Tomura may look lanky and scrawny, but he’s pretty flexible himself, and he’s stronger than he looks. So anything really basic won’t be very troubling for him!

But his balance is... not great. You have to do more supervising than instructing when teaching him anything that involves balance. He’s just a tad clumsy!

He will frequently tell you that being so flexible and nimble can be useful in a fight, but at some point he’ll probably admit he loves it because it gives him a good opportunity to acceptably gawk in awe at your talent and focus - and commitment.

Tomura won’t be super quick to master the poses, you notice, and that may or may not be because he gets undivided, one-on-one attention from you!

Mr. Compress:

Mr. will absolutely appreciate yoga as an art. It’s good for physical and (supposedly) mental health, not to mention it requires a lot of practice, effort, and patience. Naturally he admires you for being into it!

You don’t have to offer to teach him - he’ll outright ask. It never hurts, right? It’s possible to teach an old dog new tricks! Especially when that old dog has such a great teacher!

Whenever he sees you in a particularly stretching pose or just how flexible you are, his instincts kick in and he has to look away for a moment because how is that not painful?

You’ll catch him researching and practicing poses that are too advanced for him or are generally difficult because he just has a curious mind and wants to do more.

His favourite thing about yoga is that it’s something you can enjoy in various ways together! Warm-ups, trying new poses, it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as he gets to marvel over your abilities.

He’s the most likely to push himself to improve, not to show off or in a rival-ish way of catching up to you, but just because he enjoys it so much.

Mr.’s balance is more than impressive, but if you compliment him on it, he’ll be a little more modest than you’d think and he’ll find a way to send a compliment your way instead.

If you manage to use that nimbleness and flexibility in combat, he’s going to gush with pride and stop for a moment and point at you like “that’s my y/n, that’s my y/n! Look at her go, the lithe little thing! Isn’t she incredible?”

Twice:

Much like Mr., Twice is going to have that super proud attitude towards your abilities and will want to show you off to essentially everyone he meets. Inside of the League and out. All the time.

“Y/n, do the thing! Please!” he’ll say, holding his hands together with an imploring tone. He’s referring to a move that you can do to show off your flexibility.

Convincing him to join you will take a lot of effort, but considering it’s you, it will work and soon enough he’ll have his own mat (before you can even tell him to get one) and will be rearing to go.

He might not love the whole ordeal at first, but considering it is challenging for one’s physique and it’s more relaxing than slugging a hammer at a tire, he’ll learn to appreciate it.

Twice stays fit, we know this by looking at his costume - so he’s not going to totally shy from it. He can build muscle other ways and obtain flexibility this way.

He’s honestly enamored with how you move while you’re practicing (or in general honestly), so you’ll catch him staring a lot. It’s just relaxing to watch the slow and fluid movements.

Not great at yoga. Sitting still for periods of time and patience don’t really mix well with Twice.

Expect him to ask for your measurements so that he can make a clone of you to practice even when you’re busy!

Himiko:

Why didn’t you tell her sooner??? Omg y/n! Himiko loves yoga and she’s really good at it!

She’s like a kid in a candy shop when she finds out you’re into yoga and super flexibile - so is she! She learned it for combat, but still, that’s means girl bonding time!

Himiko is super flexible herself, so she’s totally going to try to compare your flexibility with hers to gage and see if one or possibly both of you can help each other improve.

And she’s 100% going to suck you in to doing it with her. She gets rather bored and lonely while she practices alone, so now that she has a yoga buddy? She’s so happy she vibrates in place!

She will literally want to buy matching or complimenting mats, yoga outfits, and even drink containers because it makes her so happy to be able to bond with you like this.

It’s probably not how you’re supposed to do it, but she likes to hum while she’s in pose. It helps her relax and sit still.

Sometimes it mindless humming to whatever she thinks sounds pretty, and sometimes it’s actual songs that she enjoys.

Give her the role of teacher and ask her to teach you a pose, and she’s totally up to the task. She’s actually a great teacher (and handsy if you’re comfortable with that). Give her the role of student and she learns really quickly.

Dabi:

He’s probably the only member for whom yoga is a no-go. He can’t help it. Stretching skin too much stretches his staples, and that’s a recipe for a literally bloody disaster.

He’d probably be willing to dabble with something that doesn’t involve stretching or balance, but it takes a whole load of convincing and demonstration on your part. He’s just really uneasy about it.

Dabi’s more than happy to watch, though, whether his dirty mind is kicking in or if he just wants to marvel at your talent and focus.

He can participate in that he can be on standby in the rare case you lose your balance, so that he can catch you and prevent you from falling on the floor if need be.

Prepare for stares and innuendos. Sometimes. Okay, maybe all the time. He’ll tease you constantly for your flexibility and what he “could do with it.” Sometimes he teases you just to tease you about it.

Prepare for every gift you get from him after he finds out to be yoga pants. Tight ones. And low-cut tops - bonus if the tops are baggy.

He will admire your abilities and he’s not afraid to tell you that. Dabi’s impressed with your progress and skill and you’re going to know it. He’ll even brag about to the others when you’re not around.

The more he sees you do yoga, the more he sort of wishes he could join you. You look so focused yet so at peace. He would like to experience that.

Spinner:

Not entirely sure how yoga works. He knows of it and all, but he’s never tried or went out of his way to learn about it.

So is he curious? Yes! Does he think it’s neat? Sure! Is he willing to try? Eeh..

Show him what you can do with your learnings from yoga, though, and he’s interested! He’s rather impressed by what the experience is given you, and he wants to see if he can benefit from it, too.

He’s in a bit of a rush, though, trying poses that are too advanced for him and sometimes hurting himself. You have to make sure he goes at a proper pace.

But he’s a quick learner, so that helps with his rush to catch up to you. You still have to keep him on a tight leash, though!

Spinner is the type to show you off anyway, but he’s really going to show you off for being into yoga. You’re doing what you can to take care of yourself, and he’s proud of that.

Literally won’t practice without you. You’re his second pair of eyes that makes sure he’s in the proper position, because he’s still a beginner. Plus it’s just not as fun without you.

His balance isn’t the best, so he’ll constantly ask you to help him improve because who better to ask? You’ve got it down pat! He knows you’re a great teacher.

[adultswim2021]

Home Movies #39: “Coffins and Cradles” | May 25, 2003 - 11:00 PM | S03E13

It’s COFFINS AND CRADLES! The epic, delayed finale to Home Movies season three. Look, writing up Home Movies isn’t my favorite thing because the level of humor tends to be pretty consistent, and sometimes it’s tough to come up with things to say about it. But given the break we just had I guess I sorta missed it. I sure do like watching the goshdarn show. Don’t you?

This is is another eventful episode in the vein of season two’s finale where Brendon’s dad gets married. Speaking of him, he’s not in this, despite the fact the episode is about the birth of his own child. I guess it’s fitting given his character being a workaholic (produced by Dave Becky [Workaholics was not produced by Dave Becky, but if it were this joke would’ve been so perfect, don’t you think?]). Loren Bouchard and Brendon Small do DVD commentary for this episode and reveal that his absence was due to a scheduling issue. Perhaps that’s why this episode was so late? They also admit that they didn’t deliver this episode to the network until around Christmas time (presumably 2002), and they basically didn’t care. They run a tight ship over there at Adult Swim, don’t they?

This is a HALLOWEEN episode! Everyone is in costume for a lot of it! Mr. Lynch is a kittycat! His turn is a little cartoonish, where his obsession with being a kitty cat actually yields him crawling around on all fours and licking people, but goddamn is it funny. He eventually starts replacing random words with “meow”. McGurk finally almost has sex with Paula’s friend again, now a cult member who randomly knocks on McGurk’s door, but he suffers a heart attack while dressed like a broad. Tom Kenny is very funny as the doctor. He has an incredibly memorable gag where he is in costume wearing Groucho glasses, and when he takes them off he just looks the same only slightly less severe. There’s a lot of really good stuff in this one. Okay? get off my back!

MAIL BAG

It’s Mail Bag! We are kicking things off RIGHT with Kon, who posted on ANIME SUCKS with me and all our big dog friends (it’s a couple posts back, you go find it):

I have come around to becoming an outright anime liker, as well as, I'd like to think, a more evolved thinker overall, but man I still look back fondly at how much fun it was to hate anime and make people pissed. Even just thinking of phrases like "Inugaya" or "The Gay O" is enough to crack me up.

The GAY O is pretty good lol. It’s hilarious to think that stupid shit like this would rile people up so bad. I remember some dork with a Mario 64 avatar being like YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE, I HAVE TO USE THIS and it was just a JPG of a middle finger, and he thought he like GOT US GOOD. more like GOT US BAD.

What cartoons did you watch before adult swim. Do any of them stand the test of time? Do any of them specifically not stand the test of time. I'm not from the states so I'm curious what you guys were watching when you were younger.

Check it out I watched SPACE GHOST COAST TO COAST, HOME MOVIES (EPISODES 1-5), and that’s it! Nah just joshin’. I watched The Simpsons from the first episode and it basically was the most important thing in my childhood. The Critic was good, I see more cracks in it now but when it’s funny it's real funny. Duckman was mostly wonderful, real dicey humor compared to what’s considered “too rude” these days. I think I might love Duckman MORE now.

Oh yeah, Ren & Stimpy is still sorta amazing. South Park and Family Guy meant a lot to me before Adult Swim, and I’m lightly defensive of both of those shows. King of the Hill was GREAT early on. I most recently went through all of Beavis and Butt-head which goes down very smooth and is one of the only shows I can stomach “binge watching”. There’s some enormously funny stuff on that show and it’s just so soothing to watch. It’s funny to say that about a show that caused such an overblown moral panic.

Basically all the kid shit I watched sucks big time and isn’t worth revisiting seriously, but I have a soft spot for Ducktales. I just wish Disney+ had a RANDOM button, because I ain’t trying to watch every episode these days, you know?

I hope you liked that, person that is probably a friend of mine who is tricking me into typing a sincere answer so he can make fun of me during movie night

Brak has been kidnapped! He was last scene milling about town! Thundercleese said he passed his house around noon. It is now 6PM and he's not home for dinner! What are you gonna do?

I’m sorry but my daughter is in town and this is the first I’m hearing about this. My dog desperately wants to fuck her so I can’t leave them home alone together even though she is “of age”. I will call around and see what I can find out, but I can’t do much about it until tomorrow morning. But I secretly hope he is dead.

Can you do something cool when you wrap up a specific show for good. Like when you get to the last episode of Sealab or The Brak Show you say your overall peace with the show and then say: "This goose is cooked!" followed by an Encarta clipart of a goose.

Yeah I should do something like this! THIS IS A GOOD IDEA! Also I will rank every character on fuckability and do a cum tribute to the winner :D

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 138: Kevin Party

“Did you guys break up? Can seven-year-olds even do that?”

Remember Doug Out?

The 125th episode of Steven Universe is a small but very fun story about Steven Universe and Connie Maheswaran, two best friends who work as a team to solve a mystery. Steven is already a teenager, and if Connie isn’t thirteen yet she’s awful close (she’s twelve and three quarters on Steven’s midsummer birthday, and school has been in session since Mindful Education), but this feels like a pair of children on an adventure. They’re chaperoned by Connie’s dad, they wear silly disguises and use sillier aliases, and they outright say that their goal is to “ruin some teen’s night.”

Doug Out ends in a cliffhanger, which leads directly to Steven’s abduction, which leads directly to Steven’s journey to and escape from Homeworld, which leads directly to the Breakup Arc, which ends here. That’s fourteen consecutive episodes telling one long story, which happens to be the same number of episodes between Catch and Release kicks off Peridot’s conversion and Hit the Diamond ends our barn adventure. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Act II and Act III of Steven Universe have similar sweeping midpoint storylines: both see a radical change occur, and while our middle act’s is more obvious (two new Gems join our crew and Steven saves the dang planet), Act III has the more important development for Steven himself. Because at the beginning of its sweep, Steven and Connie are kids, and at the end, they’re teenagers.

Granted, I see anyone under the age of 25 as a “kid,” but Kevin Party is a distinctly adolescent episode. The Breakup Arc as a whole covers new ground that a typical kid’s show wouldn’t, and even the one episode without much angst for Steven is about a bunch of teens starting a band. But it’s a whole new step to set an episode at a high school party, complete with drinking (age-appropriate drinks, I’m sure) and no adult supervision. 

After five episodes watching Steven either stressing about Connie or working his way through his guilt, it’s wonderful and devastating that when we finally see her again, she's having a blast. Her new look is one thing, but her effortless mingling with strangers is my favorite thing about Kevin Party. This isn’t a new aspect of her personality. She’s probably been like this for a while. But it’s the first time we’re seeing it, because it’s the first time Steven is seeing it.

In Bubble Buddies, Connie started out so shy that she feared dying without making a single friend, while Steven was so gregarious that he couldn’t help befriending everyone he met. Now he’s the awkward one, reduced to asking the likes of Kevin for advice, and she’s bloomed out of that social anxiety. And it’s not just a matter of her friendship with Steven changing her, even though that’s a major inciting incident: after he helps her come out of her shell, she’s able to practice interacting with peers on a regular basis in a scenario that’s way more helpful in understanding normal human interactions than anything in Steven’s life, because Connie goes to school.

There’s an unstated and uncomfortable truth that Connie needs Steven to have access to his magical world, creating an uneven power dynamic that’s easy to ignore because it fits into the general role of how a main character and side character work on a show like this. But Kevin Party‘s biggest reveal is that just because she needs him if she wants to have cosmic adventures, she doesn’t need him to have a fulfilling life, and she doesn’t need his friendship to be happy.

Thank. Goodness.

Codependency isn’t something to aspire to, and while Steven isn’t intentionally possessive of Connie (yet), their fight boils down to him treating her like a sidekick, someone who gets to do magic stuff with him under his terms. We don’t get to see what she was up to during the Breakup Arc, but I’m so glad her laughter here isn’t performative. She has enough self-worth to not define herself by the boy she likes or the adventures they share, and even if she’s upset that they’re in a fight, we know from our first look at her that she’d be okay if they never ended up reconciling. And that makes her choice to reconcile so much stronger than just shoving them back together because they’ve been apart long enough and the status quo demands it. She doesn’t need Steven in her life, but she wants him in her life, and that’s the difference between an episode about Connie remaining a sidekick in Steven’s mind and an episode about Connie establishing herself as an equal.

Steven and Connie’s affection has always bounced between platonic and romantic, and I love that even now we keep it ambiguous. Steven wears the shirt Connie got him in Steven’s Birthday, which is a gesture of friendship but occurs in an episode that dances around their mutual crush (complete with actual dancing). The moment of seeing each other again is shot like running into an ex, with time slowing down to let the absolute horror set in as the rest of the party fades, but Steven still refers to her only as his best friend. Kevin makes some of the subtext text through his confusion over the status of their relationship, but even if they’re teens now, these two are still young enough that don’t know how to express their deeper feelings.

Sadie Killer gets our guard down just long enough that Kevin Party’s new surge of drama hits like a truck: this is the original show’s most direct predecessor to the tone of Steven Universe Future’s latter half, where the anguish of watching Steven flounder in his relationship with Connie comes to a head. He makes the same mistake here that he’ll make in Together Forever: he’s so desperate for advice that he doesn’t question its source. Which is doubly frustrating because Greg Universe, who has told several stories on-screen about navigating a new relationship, is just a phone call away! I’m not saying I wish Steven actually called him, because all teens make mistakes and there’s any number of reasons he wouldn’t want to ask his dad in the moment, but it speaks to Steven’s inability to think straight when it comes to Connie.

In his final appearance, Kevin shows the closest thing he’s got to depth by helping Steven the only way he knows how. And unlike Beach City Drift, where he makes up a tragic backstory just to be a troll, it’s clear that the mysterious Sabine did a number on Delmarva’s biggest jerk. But I’ve got no patience for the notion that this episode is anything near redemptive for a guy whose idea of being helpful involves emotionally manipulating a vulnerable fourteen-year-old boy into emotionally manipulating a vulnerable thirteen-year-old girl.

Here more than ever, Kevin contrasts Steven’s self-destructive selflessness by being a black hole of self-importance. He only cares about Steven inasmuch as Steven can help him be more popular, not even bothering to ask for his name until it serves his needs. He’s so oblivious to his surroundings that he confuses Lion for a dog (saying that he’s allergic to dogs is a somewhat funny joke, but talking up Connie’s new life by saying she has a dog now is hilarious), and goes out of his way to antagonize his guests. To Steven, other people exist to be helped, which has noble roots but is catastrophic for his self-image. To Kevin, other people exist to admire Kevin.

“Psychopath” is a strong word, and I don’t wanna exaggerate Kevin’s villainy because that takes away from what makes him so insidious: unlike the Final Boss feel of the Diamonds, there’s an abundance of regular people who do the same awful stuff that Kevin does, and acting like he’s some extreme case detracts from the mundanity of everyday evils. Moreover, I remain unqualified to be an armchair psychologist, and the Hare Psychopathy Checklist has plenty of valid criticism, so take any diagnosis using it (or really any psych profile that involves a checklist you can do from home) with a grain of salt. But with all that said, I’ll just leave a link to it right here and let y’all do what you will with it.

The Big Talk gets five and a half episodes of buildup, and it doesn’t disappoint. It’s so perfect that Connie’s reaction to negging is to do what she always does when she sees someone behaving badly: she gets mad and calls it out. Steven’s typical approach to unkind behavior is to double down on his friendliness, but Connie will always put her foot down and demand kindness, whether you’re her best friend or a galactic tyrant. New hair aside, Connie isn’t the one that changes over the course of the Breakup Arc: it begins with her making it clear that she’s hurt while Steven ignores her, and it ends with her making it clear that she’s hurt while Steven listens.

I love that Connie requires no prompting to explain why she didn’t text Steven back, because Full Disclosure shows that she understands how much it hurts to try and connect with a friend who won’t respond. I love that she did go back to talk with him in person while he was on vacation (meaning all of this could’ve been worked through way sooner) because adolescence is suffering and we needed one last little twist of the knife in this arc. And I love that Steven is wise enough to just admit what he did instead of try and defend himself, because their whole fight hinged on his refusal to acknowledge the gravity of his actions, both to Connie and to himself. He doesn’t say the word “sorry” until the very end of his admission, because he means it and wants to provide context for the apology rather than just say “I’m sorry” a bunch.

And it’s so perfect that they don’t end up forming Stevonnie during their reconciliation, and not just because that would’ve given Kevin a win. They make up, but it still takes time to let the lingering pain go away, and it makes Stevonnie’s reappearance in our next episode way more meaningful. After one last display of their fundamental contrast—Steven expresses sympathy for Kevin’s situation with Sabine, while Connie shrugs it off because having a backstory doesn’t mean it’s okay to be a toxic douche—they leave the world of teen parties behind, at least for now. They’ll go back to more adventures right away, traveling to space in Lars of the Stars and Jungle Moon, but they’ll never truly be the same.

Thank goodness.

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

I love that Stevonnie’s disdain for Kevin is here for us even when Stevonnie doesn’t show up in the episode.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

It’s not just the catharsis factor that gets this in my Top 25. Kevin Party is incredible at capturing the dread I associate with this type of teen party as someone who often felt like Steven as a kid (three traits that don’t work well with teen parties, even if like me you were a fairly social teenager: clinical depression, teetotalism due to the double whammy of that depression and family history of addiction, and having a bad ear that makes it impossible to hear people talk when the music gets loud enough). Beyond the personal connection, we also get one last look at the show’s greatest villain, and an episode that respects Connie so much more than a normal cartoon would. This is how you end an arc, folks.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Back to the Kindergarten

Steven’s Dream

Kevin Party

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Lars’s Head

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

I Am My Mom

Stuck Together

The Trial

Off Colors

Gemcation

Raising the Barn

Sadie Killer

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Dewey Wins

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[rwbyremnants]

=Chapter 36

In no time, the three of them were in the backyard. Ruby looked nervous to the point of nauseated, but she was trying to be good about masking her nerves. And failing.

“What’s going on?” Yang finally hissed.

“Yeah, and why am I here?” Weiss asked. “Seriously, I thought you would only want your sister’s advice.”

The small girl squirmed, fidgeting with her fingers. “Well… jeepers, I think you’re really swell, Weiss, and you’re so nice to me! And you helped me and Yang start talking again, so it seems to me like you’re great at advice, y’know? A-and I thought it made sense to ask you! But if you don’t want me to ask your advice about stuff anymore, that’s fine! Really!”

“Why don’t you tell us what the problem is first?” Yang chuckled, cuffing her around the chin.

“Okay. I… yeah.” Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. “I d-don’t know what to do about Homecoming!”

“Huh?”

“The dance! Remember? The… one you asked Weiss to?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “I know what Homecoming is. What’s your beef with it?”

“Penny. She asked me, and I kinda… shot her down, but I didn’t mean to! She just really caught me off my guard - since I don’t even think girls can go with other girls. But now she kinda thinks I don’t want to go.”

“Ohhhhh,” Weiss breathed, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, I remember that now.”

“Right!” Pulling at her hair, she started pacing as she went on, “And now I wanna make it up to her in a really big way! But… this isn’t my thing, y’know? And I don’t even know if I like her in that way, but she seems to have caught it from you guys.”

Unable to help herself, Yang burst into laughter, doubling over and slapping her knee. Ruby pouted, and Weiss patted her arm gently until the Dragon could manage speech again. “CAUGHT! Like it’s… the goddamn measles!”

“Well, she did! Seeing so many girls dating? Y’know?”

“Ohhhh… oh boy, that was great.” Straightening up and wiping her eyes, she said, “You’re a big tickle, Sis!”

“Forget her,” Weiss sighed in mild annoyance, patting Ruby’s shoulder now. “I think it’s very nice that you want to go with Penny… assuming there’s no fella who’s caught your eye?”

“Not really,” she admitted with a little shrug.

“Then there’s no reason you two can’t go as friends. If she wants to think of it as a date, that’s fine, right? Just… tell her you have bad breath if she wants to make out.”

Yang snorted. “You don’t even have to do that. Okay, here’s what you’ll do…”

As she whispered into Ruby’s ear, Weiss tried to busy herself with staring off into the clouds. The whispering went on, and on, and on, and Ruby only nodded and breathed a little “Ohhhh” or “Yes!” to indicate she was listening. Eventually, she decided the two sisters needed this time to conspire and made her way back into the house, knowing she would scarcely be missed. They could always track her down later.

“Why the long face, Little Weiss?”

She squirmed. “My father was the last one to call me that.”

Kali frowned, setting the pie that had just come out of the oven down in the middle of the dining room table to cool. “It will never be uttered again.”

“No, no, I… it’s alright. You mean it very differently than he did.”

“Naturally.” She came over to drape her arm around her shoulders. “What was the matter before you came in here, then?”

“Nothing, actually. Today has been… very nice. All up and down the map! I just felt a little left out trying to keep up with Ruby and Yang. And I know that’s stupid,” she hurried ahead, making sure she got her words in before Kali’s rebuttal.

“Of course it isn’t stupid. Erroneous, maybe. But your feelings are your feelings.” When Weiss still didn’t look convinced, she guided her over and sat her in a chair. “You’ve had Yang all to yourself all day, and now you don’t, so you’re sad. But that will pass.”

Nodding, she stared down at the table for a second. Then something strange came to her; something she wasn’t sure she should say. But she began with, “Mrs. B?”

“Kali,” she corrected gently.

“Kali. Um… I know Blake has been weird about it, but… I think it’s a kick that you and my mother are becoming friends. And I can tell she’s really happy, too.”

The older woman blinked a few times before her lips twitched into a small smile. Weiss knew that one; adults always smiled like that when their children were being good in a “cute” way. “Thank you.”

“Ugh… fine, nevermind.”

“No, no, I mean it.” She took Weiss’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I actually do appreciate you saying so. You’ve already pointed out how strange it would be if I stopped flirting with you to flirt with your mother, and I can’t disagree, but… as of right now, I really am just happy to be there for your family. And having your support in that only makes me even happier.”

Allowing her lips to twitch into a smile, she breathed in relief, “Good.” Then she patted the back of Kali’s hand. “Where’s Blake, anyway?”

“Out with Emerald and some of the others. I’m not sure. Would you care to help me with my pasta? It’ll be time to get dinner going soon.”

“Yeah! I mean, we have to pull our weight around here.”

“That wasn’t why I asked,” she laughed, glancing up as Willow entered. “Ah, good ‘morning’ in the afternoon.”

But Weiss’s mother was busy breathing in deeply, eyes closed in bliss. “That… smells… divine.” The other two only giggled in bemusement as they all headed into the kitchen.

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

The rest of their Saturday was fairly uneventful and dull, but highly pleasant. Yang and Ruby stayed for dinner, the latter mentioning that Uncle Qrow had only been planning to open some cans of tuna for them that night - which made Kali turn her offer into an outright command that she not leave only to head toward such a disappointing fate. Blake turned up halfway through and wolfed down some food, making some excuses not to hang around with them more and heading up to bed.

When Weiss tried to ask what that was about later, she only whispered that she wanted to be left alone. She almost felt like pressing the point - since they had been making such great progress lately. But Blake insisted that nothing was wrong, she just wasn’t up to speaking a great deal. Nothing more to be done from that point onward.

The next day, Weiss strongarmed Yang into getting together with Pyrrha so they could all study again. The redhead was one of the most patient teachers she had ever known - and she wasn’t even an actual teacher - but even she seemed to find Yang’s inability to grasp certain concepts a bit taxing from time to time. However, through dogged determination and their combined efforts, they all managed to help prepare Yang for the upcoming test.

Not that Yang’s frequent bribes of kisses helped. Weiss only succeeded in fighting her off most of the time, and no amount of throat-clearing from Pyrrha seemed to put her off it. At least she seemed to be moderately less queasy about things like that now.

Which Weiss asked her about a bit later, when they were taking a break.

“Am I what?!”

“Are you interested in Cinder?” she asked again, voice steady and bald of any deception. “Honestly.”

Clearing her throat, Pyrrha smoothed her hand over her hair as they fished the bottle of milk from the refrigerator. Mrs. Nikos had made a fresh batch of cookies that would go nicely with that. “You’re wrong, Weiss. I… know how it looked, but I don’t have those sorts of feelings for women.”

“Then why do you look so nervous when I ask about it?”

“Because I- I’ve never been accused of liking someone!” she burst out anxiously. “Cinder’s affections feel so strange, I- my stomach twists into knots when she touches me, but not in the good way you’re implying. Not the way it does when I see Jaune smile in class. It’s more like I feel… afraid.”

“Alright, alright,” Weiss tried to reassure her, a hand raised as the other held the glass steady for Pyrrha to pour. “I didn’t mean to pry. Honest! But you know how it looked at the hospit-”

“Yes! Yes, I… I know. But surely you understand that I only wanted to… to make Cinder feel less wrong, less… oh…”

“Sad?”

Pyrrha nodded, setting the bottle back in the ice box. “Sad. I’m sure you felt the same way I did. It simply isn’t right for a woman so full of confidence to be so broken. Don’t you agree?”

“I do. Seriously… that isn’t the part I’m wondering about. I knew why you did it. But once it was happening, and you were sitting next to her on the bed…”

“Yes.” Her wide eyes turned to Weiss. “What about it?”

“Then… you looked as if you were enjoying yourself. You just wished you weren’t.” Their gaze met, both of them uncertain. “Were you?”

The room fell silent for a few seconds. Pyrrha looked down into her glass of milk but didn’t respond, didn’t elaborate. Now Weiss felt awful for having brought it up at all. She was honestly hoping that a little gentle nudging might help Pyrrha come clean, or at least settle any fears the two of them might have been wondering about. Instead, it just seemed to awaken them afresh.

“Pyrrha, I’m really sorry if-”

“Hey, what’s taking you two cats so long?” The instant Yang stumbled into the room, she sensed the bleak atmosphere in the room and flinched back. “Whoa… why do I feel like I goofed in coming down here?”

Pyrrha favoured her with a practiced smile. “It’s nothing. Just getting distracted; I’m sorry. Here, take your glass; we… we won’t have to carry so much this way.”

She took it, shooting a confused look at her girlfriend - who had no great idea of how to respond exactly. She wanted to make amends for pushing too much. Even now, she still wanted to know if Pyrrha really didn’t like Cinder in a way beyond friendship, or if she was merely afraid of enjoying those frequent advances and wanted to cover those feelings so completely that they would cease to exist for all intents and purposes. If so… lying to herself was only going to hurt her in the long run.

But most of that was speculation. And Weiss cared more about supporting her friend than digging for the truth. She just wasn’t sure how best to go about supporting her in this situation anymore.

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

Monday morning brought school, and even more confusion about everything. Blake had been quite sullen and distant again the night before, but that morning she was all sunshine and rainbows, telling Weiss she looked nice and that she hoped they would all have a nice day in class. Pyrrha also acted like nothing had happened between them the night before, just plastering on her patented “politician smile” and greeting everyone cheerfully. In contrast, the normally-chipper Ruby was walking around in a cloud of uncertainty, acting jumpy - as if someone would spring out from inside of a locker and demand to know her true feelings about Penny.

Life was kooky.

The only thing that did make sense was Yang being in a fantastic mood. Their skinny dipping session had seemed to ease a lot of her anxieties and sorrows about other situations - such as her mom, and the fate of the Dragons overall. She locked arms with Weiss often and they chatted about fun, light topics. It was just what they needed.

Unfortunately, Ruby didn’t make good on any of her plans that day. Weiss asked what they were but Yang remained tight-lipped; she said it would be much more fun as a surprise when it went into effect. But it seemed they weren’t going to get that surprise today.

They were going to get another.

“Hey, kiddo,” Qrow called out as he strode over from the parking lot, his white-and-grey suit standing out like a sore thumb on the campus full of boys in sweater-vests and tweed sportcoats, polo shirts and lightweight jackets. The wave was casual. Yang tensed, but Weiss tried to remain calm; she wanted to see how this might go.

“Hey, Uncle!” Ruby piped up, grabbing him up in a hug. “What’s up? Am I not catching the bus?”

“Not today. Gotta head over to a neighbouring town for a run. Need my copilot.”

Her smile only widened at the prospect. This girl really did seem to love living with him as much as Weiss loved having her own mother back in her life. “YAY! Road trip, road trip!”

“Pipe down,” he rumbled in his gravelly voice, tousling her hair. The girl only giggled. Then he glanced over at Yang, face becoming somehow yet more passive than the already-nonchalant expression of before. “Yang.”

“Qrow.”

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Weiss shoehorned herself in, reaching out a hand. Hopefully, it might diffuse the tension. “Weiss Schnee.”

“Yeah. I know. Schnees have been runnin’ this town for years.” She drew back the hand an instant later. He hadn’t even glanced at it.

“Hey, lay off my girlfriend,” Yang warned him.

“Ooooh,” he breathed with both hands raised in false fear. “I’m shakin’. And shocked ya turned out just like your mom.”

Yang’s face darkened with anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Chasin’ skirts instead of chasin’ fellas. It’s…” He paused to choose his words carefully. “...a crazy coincidence, don’t ya think?”

“Mom doesn’t chase anybody. You know that. She doesn’t even go out anymore, she’s always working…” Her lips shut and she turned to march away, then thought better of it - but only enough to force herself to stand there with her back to Qrow and Ruby, arms folded over her chest and entire frame seething with barely-restrained rage.

“Sure, kiddo, sure. Been a while since I even talked to her.”

“That’s your fault. You picked your side, and you… you picked wrong.”

“Yang,” Ruby whispered, but Yang sighed in annoyance and she fell silent immediately.

“Really believe that, don’t ya?” he asked with a slight edge of biting humour. “Little spitfire. Too much of your mom, too much of your dad. Or maybe just enough.”

Folding her arms tighter, the Dragon grunted, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. C’mon, Ruby.” But just as they began to stride away, Weiss hurried to circle around behind them, blocking their path. “Excuse us.”

“No.”

“Wanna try that again?”

“I said, ‘no’!” She stamped her foot as she went on, “You and Yang are going to talk, and if I have to… to kick you in the shins until you stay, I will! Don’t think I won’t!

Looking distinctly unimpressed, the man grunted, “Yang, do you wanna tug on your little girl’s leash here?”

However, Yang sighed in defeat, rubbing at one side of her face. “No… trust me, it’s not gonna make any difference. She gets something in her head and there’s no stopping her; we might as well accept it. What do you want us to do, Weiss?”

“Talk. Now. Is that really so crazy of me to ask? Really talk, don’t just say a bunch of mean things.” When nobody answered, she rolled her eyes and turned back to Qrow. “Let’s start with this: what did you mean by ‘just enough’ of her parents? I think you were going to say something nice.”

“You think all you want.” But of course she still wasn't moving. He rolled his eyes and said, “Fine, fine. I was gonna say… this is stupid.”

“No argument here,” Yang said with no hesitation. But before Weiss could protest, Qrow was actually answering – and it was a genuine answer.

“You got your mom's spunk. And that fierce loyalty that almost nobody really sees. She could have dumped you out in the streets, but even though she's about the worst candidate for a mother I've ever seen-”

“Forget this! I don't need to hear you talking about her like-”

“Wait, wait,” Ruby spoke up, finally seeming to catch on. She and Weiss shared a little smile. “I think… you should let him finish.”

Qrow looked a little ruffled by all the attention, but was trying to hide it behind a veneer of disinterest. “Like I said, she’s no prize as a mom. And she knew it. Always knew it; that’s why she gave you up in the first place. But after you two lost Summer… she took you in anyway. Takes a lot of guts to do something you don’t think you're any good at for somebody else because you’re the only name in the hat - and she’s been doin’ it for years and years. Because she doesn’t turn her back on family unless they give her a good reason. Real loyalty.”

Yang’s mouth just barely uttered an “Oh.”

“And as for Tai… he was kind of a flake, still don't know why he twenty-three skidooed on us. But he had a lotta love in his heart for his friends, family. Strong and didn’t know the meaning of ‘fear’. And, uh… I think you got a lot of both of ‘em. That’s all.”

“O-oh,” she breathed again, and this time Weiss noticed her eyes were watering. But she turned away, arms tightly folded over her chest. “Fine.”

“Yang,” Weiss insisted very quietly. But Yang didn’t budge. So she turned to Qrow and nodded at him. “Thank you for saying that.”

One hand waved it off while the other fell to his almost-niece’s shoulder. “Eh. C’mon, Ruby, we’re burnin’ daylight.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, favouring Weiss with an uncertain little smile. “See you later, okay?”

“Yeah. See you, Ruby.” Once they were out of earshot, Weiss stomped over to Yang and seethed at her back for a few seconds. “You could have at least said ‘thank you’ instead of ‘fine’.”

“Wh-why should I thank him? He just… still didn’t… what a big clod.”

Her arms wrapped around Yang’s waist, hugging her from behind as she shivered with unshed tears. “I know, I know. What a meanie, telling you that you’re loyal, and brave, and you have a big heart. How dare he!”

By that point, Yang was truly sobbing, and she turned to hold her girlfriend as close as she could, needing the creature comfort. Weiss did her best not to let her shock at this release show; just held her, petting over her back and hair and giving her the chance to have all those feelings. They stayed like that until Blake happened along and asked what the matter was, to which Yang completely sidestepped before rushing off to get home.

“That girl is just weird,” Blake remarked with a small shake of her head. “Mondo strange-o.”

“Yeah. So, um… do you think maybe her mom would let you come over now? Because it still seems like she’s being stubborn about houseguests. I think that stinks.”

Her shoulders raised up and down within her leather jacket, staring off after the blonde driving away on her motorcycle. Wistful but resigned. “Nah.”

“No?”

“Probably not. But I see her enough in school. And when the Dragons hang around, too, I guess.” When she saw Weiss squirm, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “You can stop now. I’m not a charity case, and I’m… okay with how things turned out. So enough with the babysitting. I’m fine, Weiss.”

She bit her lip for a second, indecisive. Then she finally hugged her around the middle. “I’m glad. Because I’m a Dragon now, too, remember? If you’re in pain, then I’m-”

“I get it,” she laughed weakly. “Let’s go home, you weird hug-monster.”

When they got there, they saw a few more bikes parked in the drive than were normal. And Weiss was just beginning to get familiar enough with her fellow gangsters to tell which bike was whose.

“Salem? And Vernal, and… and that is Cinder’s bike, I think, but she’s not even out of the hospital yet!”

Blake shrugged as she left her helmet on the handlebars. “We really need to get that new Shopkeeper’s set up. Somewhere.”

As she could have expected, Salem was seated in the living room with Kali and Sienna, discussing things in hushed voices. Weiss noticed her own mother was conspicuously absent; that would have worried her, but Kali looked far too calm for it to mean anything dire. Probably had her hidden upstairs.

“Ah, there are a few of our babies,” Kali said with a half-smile. “Good day at school?”

“High Dragon,” Weiss said with a slight bow in her direction. Salem barely tilted her head downward in recognition. “Where’s Cinder?”

Almost as if summoned, Cinder appeared from the dining room with a glass of iced tea. She was still heavily bandaged, and leaning on Emerald for support, but she looked a little more hale and hearty than she had the last time they saw her. Flirting with two women at once had done wonders for her complexion.

“Schnee,” she rasped with a slight smile, which Weiss returned.

“Fall.”

“Belladonna,” Blake grunted in mild annoyance at being ignored. Cinder smirked. “Now, what’s this all about? I didn’t know we were having a pow-wow. We would have told Yang.”

Salem waved a hand of dismissal. “This is not an official meeting, Blake. We’re discussing how to proceed.”

“He’s got a little too many higher-ups backing him to rub him out now,” Kali warned her, sounding as if she had already made that point before but was trying to rearrange her words so that they would be more convincing. Weiss’s gaze sharpened on the older women. “There’s no way it wouldn’t lead back to us - even if we asked the boys to do it instead.”

“Agreed. However, we may not have much choice; if we languish here while our enemy amasses yet more power, we may find the option vanishes from under our noses. He’ll be out of reach soon.”

Cinder spoke up, surprising them all. “Make it quick. Hell, I’ll do it - sweet revenge.”

“Wait, wait,” Weiss interrupted before Kali could speak again. “What is it we’re talking about? Who needs to be… you know.” She had a suspicion, but wanted to confirm.

Salem blinked at her a few times before she answered. “You haven’t heard? Our timetable has been… truncated.”

“I haven’t. I mean, apparently.”

For a moment, no one answered. Then Kali stood and crossed to her small television set, turning the dial to get it warming up. Within several seconds, they were staring at a black-and-white image of a newscaster with a handful of papers, gazing into the camera and trying to be serious without being dour, square jaw outlined in strong relief above his suit.

“...within these past weeks, with the fire at the abandoned building as further proof of criminal activity. Mr. Schnee says that he hopes his term in office as mayor will usher in a new age of peace and prosperity for the city of Vale. Now here’s Lisa Lavender with the weather…”