#but I generally ADORED being around chemicals I had so much fun and looked forward to chem classes every week

[the-stray-liger]

Enjoyed a nice gin with a video about chromyl chloride. I keep forgetting that pure chemistry is literally one of my favorite things in the world

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Illicit Affairs

A/N: Okay so the ages and timing on this story don’t make much sense but just overlook that, maybe? I don’t know you’ll see but just try to ignore it if you can for the sake of the story. Also I know it’s been forever since I posted but it’s because I’ve been working on this series, so yeah. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 2,488 Warnings: I don’t think any.

Your Uncle Frank was one of your number one supporters through it all, and by far one of your closest family members.

You had known him since you were 13, as he and your Aunt Jamia (who was your mother’s sister) had met early in high school and had been dating since. Now that you were 20 and in college, triple majoring at NYU, he was once again your biggest supporter, helping you financially at every opportunity he could. You always felt so guilty for the thousands of dollars he insisted on paying monthly to help you get through college with little to no student debt, but he was insistent.

And of course you knew that money came from his now wildly successful band My Chemical Romance. You had been to a few My Chem shows, but had surprisingly never actually met any of the guys, besides Ray who you accidentally met while dropping off some coffee for Frank at the recording studio. You were actually a pretty big fan of their music, but you never broadcasted that your uncle was Frank Iero. That remained pretty private.

But here you were, driving to one of their shows for the soundcheck from Frank’s New York apartment, which you were staying at for the summer because A. You were taking summer classes and B. He offered to pay you to dog/house sit while he was touring, since Jamia consistently had work that sometimes meant she had to travel.

You pulled up to the large venue, showing security the backstage pass that Frank had given you, before being escorted into the main arena, where empty spaces for chairs lurked open, a few maintenance and sound people running around and fiddling with various things. You looked up to see some of the guys sitting down in a circle having a conversation. Frank noticed you almost immediately, getting up with a big smile and running up to you, engulfing you in a hug, and you hugged him back. “How’s my favorite neice?” He asked and you lightly laugh.

“Great, you?” You asked and he smiled back.

“Great.” It was funny to be shorter than Frank, only be a few inches, but still, making you the shortest in both the family and in most social situations. He walked you over to where everyone else was, introducing you in general as everyone got up to shake your hand. You already knew Ray, who gave you a hug, but you had never met the other three.

First was Mikey, who seemed shy and a little awkward, but was pretty adorable. Then came Bob, who seemed chill, and finally Gerard. You had to admit he was pretty handsome both on and off stage, but you pushed some confidence forward so you wouldn’t chicken out. “I’m Gerard.” He shook your hand with a kind smile.

“Y/N.” You responded, shaking it back. You could see your uncle eyeing the both of you from the corner of your eye, but you weren’t totally sure why. Was your crush on Gerard that obvious. You pulled away a moment, somewhat nervously with the conscious that at least your uncle knew, meaning other people probably did too.

You all sat down in a group as the guys began asking questions about you and what you were doing in school. All of them (besides Frank who already knew) were extremely surprised as you triple majoring, but you couldn’t help and notice how Gerard was fixated on you the entire time. After a bit of explaining stuff about you, everyone split up to go do their own thing. Ray, Mikey, and Frank all went off to begin tuning and testing their stuff while Bob did the same, but Gerard stayed back with you for a few minutes.

“Hey, this could be totally weird and awkward and not cool and you can totally say no,” Gerard began, quietly to you when no one was around, “But would you mind if I got your number? I mean I could ask Frank but your his niece so that might be awkward and-” “No, no, it’s fine.” You lightly smiled, as if to reassure him. You pulled a sticky note and pen out of your backpack, writing it down, “Here.” You smiled at him, handing it over. “But I would advise you don’t tell Frank, because he might, ya know-” “Yeah, yeah, trust me, I know.” He said and the two of you lightly laughed. “Are you gonna be at the show tonight?” He asked and you nodded, “Cool, cool. Have you been to one before.” You nodded again.

“A few times, actually, I’ve just never gotten to meet you guys.” You lightly smiled.

“Cool, cool.” He responded. You could tell how awkward both of you felt, each of you having the urge to keep the conversation going but it just wasn’t there. “So I should probably go and start sound check, ya know. But it was awesome meeting you, Y/N.” Gerard smiled.

“You too.” You smiled back.

“I’ll see you around?” “See you around.” You lightly waved as he jogged the other way.

You ended up excusing yourself and saying bye, with the excuse that you had more school work to do, when in reality you just needed some air as your mind continued to process the idea that the Gerard Way just asked for your number. He was so nervous and cute about it that in a way it made you all the more happy getting to know him briefly, but he was nothing like how he was on stage. The confidence that seemed to erupt in him was all wiped away as he just seemed like a nervous outcasted teenage boy in a band, which maybe to an extent he was.

Gerard, on the other hand, was set on the idea that he had just fucked over any shot he had with you. And from what you had explained, you seemed like the perfect girl. Not only were you absolutely gorgeous to him, but you were kind, funny, and smart. And you seemed to have some tom boy in you, which only made you that much more attractive to him to send him mind into overdrive. He wasn’t sure that the perfect girl ever existed, until you walked in.

And he was shocked that you were single. Sure, you had a lot on your plate and probably not enough time for a relationship, but any boy or man would be insanely lucky to have you. But there he stood, mentally punching himself at how stupid he acted. And ideally he would have gone and ranted to the guys, but the moment Frank heard he was interested in you, he knew he was dead meat. Frank may have only been 5′6 but he could pack a punch if he wanted to.

And besides, you were eight years younger than him. And while that didn’t matter to him, and clearly to you it didn’t either, that would most likely be looked down upon by most other people. “It’s pretty obvious.” Mikey came up to him behind the stage, “You’re just going to have to deal with the wrath of Frank eventually.” The two looked over at the short man who was clearly pissed in some way.

It wasn’t until that night at the concert that your worries fluttered away. You had invited a few friends, who were all jumping, screaming, and dancing as you did the same in the pit. Gerard had taken the crowd by his hand with ease starting with their opener, and flawlessly sang and entertained everyone. You were genuinely having the time of your life, and even when the show ended you were still riding high from the buzz of adrenaline that the show gave.

You ran back stage, giving Frank a hug and he hugged you back. “You guys did awesome!” You sighed out, still in awe with a huge smile on your face. “It was absolutely incredible.”

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Frank smiled back down at you.

“Y/N/N?” Ray asked, with a confused look.

“Yeah, it’s been her name in the family since she was like two.”

“Okay, Y/N/N.” Ray smiled at you and you smiled back. You couldn’t help but look over Ray’s shoulder, seeing Gerard standing back with Mikey drinking lots of water, for obvious reasons. You briefly excused yourself to go talk to them.

“Hey,” You walked up to Gerard and smiled, he immediately looked back, putting his water down and smiling back at you tiredly. “You did awesome.” You preached, “Like, actually, you did insane.” “Thanks.” He lightly laughed, “Glad you enjoyed.” You nodded. “Hey Mikey.” You looked at the skinny boy who waved back.

“You did pretty great too.” “Thanks.” He smiled, saying goodbye and departing from the two of you shortly after. Gerard pulled out a box of cigarettes, taking one in his mouth, and motioning them towards you, a way of asking. You shook your head.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He nodded, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and lighting the stick. He took a deep breath in, letting the smoke come out through his mouth only a few moments later.

“So you don’t smoke?” He asked next, casually. You shook your head, “Smart.” He lightly smiled. “It’s pretty fucking annoying.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks for the advice.” You smiled.

Only a few seconds later you were called out by the rest of the guys, sitting outside their tour bus and drinking some beer. You noticed Gerard had none, and opted for just some water, you doing the same instead. For you it was pretty obvious, you were 20 and weren’t of the legal age to drink. But for Gerard it would seem off to most people, but of course Frank had told you all about how only a few months prior he was an alcoholic and had gotten sober, so naturally you didn’t blame him one bit for skipping out on the alcohol.

“Hey Y/N, want some?” One of the guys on tour asked. You shook your head. “Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun!” The guy continued to insist.

“Nah, I’m alright.” You said. It was pretty annoying when guys asked you to drink, because you knew that it was to get you to a point of being drunk only to get laid. Or even worse, the fear that the drink could be laced. Either way, you weren’t taking a chance.

“Are you sure-” “Hey man, back off.” Gerard, who was sitting next to you, spoke, “She said no.” “I’m pretty sure she can speak for herself.” The dude smirked and fired back, thinking he did something.

“And she already did speak. She said no.” He said firmly, more aggressive this time, “You’re on this fucking tour because you’ve been hired by my band. So I would suggest you leave her the fuck alone before you lose your job, buddy.” Gerard snapped. The other guys eyes just went wide, walking away in surrender.

“You didn’t have to do that, ya know?” You looked over at him, and he gave you a confused look, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but it happens all the time.”

“Well it shouldn’t.” He sighed, “But you’re smart enough to know that. No offense, and this is not meant to be sexist, but a lot of girls your age don’t know that.” “Yeah, I know,” You admitted, “I’ve seen it happen one too many times.” Both of you obviously became slightly uncomfortable with the situation at hand, prompting Gerard to begin another conversation.

“So what do you like to do?” He asked, “Outside of school, of course.” “I don’t know,” You sighed, “I love to write, I have since I was younger. Reading goes a long with that, I’ve read comics since I was a kid too. I know that probably sounds stupid but-” “You read comics?” He asked, slightly shocked. You nodded, “What kinds?” “I started out with Marvel, since my dad collected Marvel as a kid. Then I got into DC, Watchmen in specific, I never got into the Justice League because I didn’t really see the relevance of it, but I liked the Avengers a lot.” He nodded and smiled.

“That’s pretty cool, ya know. Not really stupid in my book.” He lightly laughed, “I actually went to school to be a comic book writer.” “Really?” You asked, adjusting yourself in your seat and he nodded. “No way.” “Yeah, I did. But it was a rough time in the comics industry and nothing really worked out.” You nodded, understanding.

“Do you still do anything with comics?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, “In my free time I love to draw, I have this current project I’m working on, I’m not sure what it’s going to be called, but it’s like this weird super hero family type thing, but they’re all adopted, and this guys makes his kids a super hero team? That probably doesn’t make a lot of sense.” You lightly laughed.

“Not totally, but what I get from it, it sounds pretty awesome.” You admitted, “I think that would be pretty cool, and original. Which is something everyone wants when it comes to comics.” He nodded.

“It probably wouldn’t be hard to get it published now with this whole band thing.” You nodded.

“Well, if you ever need a second opinion on it, don’t hesitate to ask. Although I know it can sometimes be hard to show off your work.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” He smiled. You got a vibration from your phone, which you checked. It was one of your friends, but glancing at the time your anxiety rose.

“Shit,” You muttered, “Hey, so I know we were just starting to actually talk and all, and I really don’t want to end that, but I kinda have to get back and-” “Hey, hey, don’t worry.” Gerard lightly smiled, “You’re really busy. It’s totally fine.” “You sure?” You asked again and he nodded.

 “Yeah, of course.” He nodded, “Here, let me at least walk you out to your car.” “No, you don’t have to do that-” “Trust me, it’s alright.” He insisted, getting up and walking besides you under the night sky.

“It was really great meeting you.” You smiled up at Gerard as you two stood outside your car.

“You too, Y/N.” He smiled down. “This may be too soon, and it probably is, but I asked for your number after like five minutes of knowing you so I guess we are moving fast. Anyways, I’m rambling.” He stuttered a little, “But would you want to go out with me sometime.” You smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” You responded, “Just text or call me and we’ll work something out.” “Oh, okay, awesome.” He smiled. “Bye Y/N. Get home safe, okay?” “Bye, Gerard, and I will.” You said and got into your car.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 45 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Aiden’s jealousy worsened, and Bianca invited Courtney to lunch.

This Chapter: Courtney, Adore and Violet all receive unexpected invitations.

***

It was kind of amazing. How Courtney could be sitting across from one of the most influential, powerful women in New York and feel so...well, comfortable. She knew that any sane person would feel horribly intimidated in this situation, but Bianca just kept on making her laugh so much, it was like she forgot to be nervous. Or...well, she wasn’t exactly not nervous, but it was a fluttery kind of excited nervous, curling pleasantly in her abdomen as they bantered back and forth.

“So...what class are you taking later?” Bianca asked, stirring her latte.

“It’s a street jazz class at BDC,” Courtney replied.

“BDC?” Bianca raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it stands for Broadway Dance Cen-”

“Yeah, I know what BDC is, I’m not a moron,” Bianca interrupted, and Courtney bit back a laugh, finding her abrasive style somehow endearing. “I just didn’t realize you were a dancer.”

“Oh. I’m not really. I just uh...want to get into music. Eventually. Like, pop music. When I got to New York, I went on a bunch of auditions, and I realized that my dance background was nowhere near strong enough to be competitive-” Courtney stopped abruptly. Was she saying too much? As nice as Bianca was, she was also one of Fame’s best friends.

Bianca didn’t seem concerned though, simply listening, nodding, a soft smile on her face. She really was so beautiful. Courtney’s heart hammered a bit faster.

“Do you mind...um...not telling Miss Fame about that? I don’t want her to think I’m not committed. I just, feel like she’d disapprove, and I really need that job, so-”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bianca’s smile deepened, dark eyes shining.

“Thanks.” Courtney smiled back as the waitress set down their food, relieved.

“So how’d you end up at Galactica, anyway? It’s not exactly a direct path from there to being a pop star.”

“Uh, it’s kind of a long story. I was applying for like, any job that would let me stay in the country, and when I saw the opening with Miss Fame, I was thrilled. And then Adore and I were at this club, and we ran into Violet, and...I guess she kind of put in a good word for me.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that,” Bianca mused.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just… Violet’s always seemed a bit...uptight as fuck?”

Courtney had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud, explaining, “She takes her work very seriously.”

“Oh yeah?” One of Bianca’s brows raised a little, challenging. “Do you?”

“Of course! I’m so lucky to have that job, a million girls would kill to be in my shoes. And Miss Fame, you know, she’s a great boss.” Courtney blinked at Bianca, watching her muffle a laugh with her hand. “What?”

“No, nothing. You’re just cute when you lie.”

That fluttery feeling was back in Courtney’s belly, stronger than ever, as she insisted, “I’m not lying! She’s great! You’re her best friend, you should know-”

“Exactly. I’m her best friend. That’s how I know you’re lying.” Bianca bit down on a sweet potato fry, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, maybe she’s a little…”

“Yes?”

“Well, she’s not the easiest boss, or the most predictable, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a good one.” Courtney crossed her arms, a pretend little pout on her lips.

“Fair enough.”

And with that particular landmine safely side-stepped, Courtney let out a relieved sigh.

“Hey, uh, here’s a question. Do you have any Thanksgiving plans? I know you’re not American, so-”

“Really, what gave that away?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering.

“Lucky guess,” Bianca laughed. “Anyway, Adore and I usually go home to New Orleans. But my sister Liz is going through a divorce and she’s apparently just an absolute cunt to anyone who dares even look at her. So we decided to stay in town and avoid that nightmare altogether.”

“That’s nice. Very supportive.”

“Hey, I’m paying for her attorney,” Bianca defended herself, and Courtney laughed. Of course she was paying for her sister’s divorce attorney; she was quickly proving to be one of the most generous people Courtney’d ever met. “But yeah, so...would you have any interest in joining us?”

“Really?”

“Sure. I know Adore would love to have you there,” Bianca said quickly, and after a moment of hesitation, added, “And hey, I’d like to encourage her to hang out with people who read. So, you know, win win.”

Courtney bit her lip, Bianca’s sarcastic deflection as she folded up a napkin in her hands making the whole thing painfully cute.

“No pressure, I just, uh...wanted you to know you’re welcome.”

“I would love to,” Courtney said, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the invite, knowing that this was a holiday people spent with family. “I should warn you though, I just went vegan.”

“Oh shit, invite rescinded.”

Courtney giggled, twirling a lock of her hair. “I know, I've already lost 3 friends over it. And I think I’m on very thin ice with Adore. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s no big deal. I actually eat a lot of vegan food, even tried it myself for a few years,” Bianca said. “I am a lesbian, after all.”

Courtney leaned forward, intrigued. “Is that like a thing?”

“Oh yeah,” Bianca nodded.

“Why do you think that is?” Courtney asked, lifting her glass to her lips, trying to find the straw without looking.

Bianca thought for a moment and then said, “Well...part of it is probably just lefty-feminist politics. And then of course there’s the purely unscientific belief that a plant-based diet makes your pussy taste amazing.”

Courtney choked, spitting out some of her smoothie, cheeks flushing hotly.

A mischievous smile spread across Bianca’s face as she handed over some napkins. She looked both terribly amused and a bit proud of herself.

“Sorry,” Courtney sputtered, wiping up the mess. “I was...not prepared for that.”

“I hope I didn’t destroy your innocence,” Bianca said, voice soft and teasing.

“I’m not that fragile. I’ve been Adore’s best friend for 4 years, remember?” Courtney reminded her.

“Right.”

As Courtney set down the napkins, she looked up and caught Bianca’s eyes again, both of them breaking out into matching grins. She couldn’t quite explain the way her heart thumped faster every time they looked at each other--all she knew was that looking into Bianca’s warm brown eyes, she felt better than she had in months.

***

“Fame?”

Patrick toed his shoes off, resisting the urge to dump his tennis bag by the door. He played tennis every other Saturday morning, tennis and his occasional swims the only form of exercise he had ever found bearable, even though Fame had tried to get him turned into yoga more times than he could count.

Patrick waited for a second, either expecting his wife or his dog to come down to greet him, but neither happened, instead,  all he could hear was the faint sound of the TV.

“Fame? Darling?”

Patrick put his bag down, vowing to himself that he’d remember to come back and pick it up, before he made his way into their townhouse.

He found her in the living room. Fame was sitting on the couch in a silk robe, the TV on, the curtains drawn, Charles' head resting on her lap.

“Did you have fun?”

“We finished 5 sets.” Patrick smiled, Fame not actually asking how he had done at tennis, the rules of the game on the long list of things she didn’t care about, though she had shown up to watch him play, the shorts apparently making it worth it. He walked over to the couch, sitting down and leaning in to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, when he felt Fame’s hand on his face, blocking him.

“Don’t-” Fame turned her head, pulling herself away from her show as she looked at Patrick through her fingers. “I just had my skin done, and I refuse to let you mess up my microneedling.”

“Ah. Glad it’s not a chemical peel month.” Fame always looked absolutely insane after those, her skin flaking off. It was rather disgusting, and he tried not to be around for those, seeing your wife shed like a lizard weirdly enough rarely doing wonders for a sex life.

“Shut up.”

Patrick grinned, and Fame smiled as she pushed him back, Patrick settling in on the couch so Fame could snuggle up against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “And what are we watching?”

“Snapped.”

Patrick had to hide a snort, Fame absolutely devouring any and all true crime media. When she’d first gotten addicted to that particular show, all about women who murdered their partners, he’d wonder if she was trying to tell him something. Her response when he’d asked, “Keep asking questions like that and you’ll find out,” had made him burst out laughing, his wife’s sardonic, grisly sense of humor one of the things he loved the most about her, only coming out in rare instances but always a delightful surprise. Almost as surprising as her porcelain chicken collection.

“Your bag better not be flung anywhere.”

Ah.

Busted.

***

Katya hummed to herself as she was setting the table, a bottle of wine for Trixie and sparkling water for her chilling in the fridge.

Trixie was locked up in their bedroom, working away on the cost predictions for the Spring prêt-à-porter collection, sweating over numbers and doing everything he could to make sure everything was running smoothly.

He had promised her to come out for dinner, so Katya had arranged a surprise, a gigantic order of Chipotle on its way.

“Hey Katya?”

Katya looked up from where she had been folding the napkin, to see Pearl leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed. She was wearing a pair of drop-crotch sweats and a sleeveless jersey tied up around her midriff, certainly not her typical going-out clothes. Was it possible that she was staying in? On a Saturday?

“Everything okay?”

Pearl gave a slow, unconvincing nod, walking forward a few steps.

“Are you sure about that?”

“How did you know that you wanted to be with Trixie forever?”

Katya paused, the napkin still in her hand as she considered Pearl’s question. Normally, she would have made a joke about Trixie’s luscious butt, but judging from Pearl’s face, this wasn’t the time.

“I honestly…still don’t know.”

“Please,” Pearl sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Katya smiled. Pearl and Trixie had been friends for forever, but they didn’t become best friends until after Katya and Trixie had started dating, Pearl moving in with Trixie while she was in rehab for that final time. “I liked being single. I liked having little whirlwind romantic flings and then going back to starfishing across the bed when they were over.”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head, and Katya declared a small victory for making her crack a smile.

“If I’d been single forever, I’d have been perfectly fine.”

Maybe not perfectly fine, but Pearl didn’t need to know that, the things Katya had done before Trixie came into her life not really things she was particularly proud of.

“I liked being free.” Katya shrugged, trying it out.

“Mmmh?”

Bingo.

Katya hid a smirk, Pearl straightening up the moment freedom had been mentioned.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Pearl was struggling in her relationship with Adore, that her friend was probably freaking out about being with someone for any extended amount of time, since Katya had never seen Pearl do anything like what she doing now, long-term relationships not really the Liaison brand.

“But I met Trix, and I like him more than freedom. Or, well, that’s not really accurate. Actually…” Katya sat down beside Pearl. “The truth is, I feel my freest when I’m with him. Knowing that he’s in my corner. But I mean, knowing for sure? I just don’t think certainty is in my nature. Luckily, it’s in his. That’s why we’re a good team.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. You guys are a good team.” Pearl sighed.

“Do you feel like you guys are a good team?” Katya asked carefully.

“Sometimes. I mean...we’re a lot alike. Maybe too much alike. I dunno.” Pearl avoided Katya’s gaze.

“Here’s a question...are you happier with her, or without her?” Katya asked.

“I...don’t know.”

Katya reached for Pearl’s hand. “Pearl, listen. I like Adore, a lot actually. I think she’s sweet and beautiful and funny and she obviously cares about you so much. But I also think that stringing her along when you’re feeling like this...it’s not fair to either of you.”

“I just don’t want to give up so fast!” Pearl exclaimed. “I always do that. I promised myself that I would actually try this time.”

“Well, then maybe you just need to be reminded of why you got together in the first place.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Also...now I don’t want to sound like I’m preaching here,” Katya began.

“No, it’s fine. I asked for your opinion,” Pearl said.

“Well...in my experience...it’s really hard to maintain any kind of real relationship--friendship, romantic, whatever--if you prioritize your ego over the other person’s feelings.”

Pearl blinked at her for a few seconds, letting the comment sink in, before dropping her head to the table with a soft, “fuck…”

Katya chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. “You’ll be alright.”

***

“Drink drink drink drink drink drink drink drink YEAHHHHHHH!” The girls cheered as Adore finished her beer and slammed the empty glass down on the table.

Adore laughed, wiping her mouth, looking around at the group. Originally, when Courtney had introduced her to these girls years ago as “my sorority sisters,” she was picturing stuck-up, prissy little spoiled brats, who would judge her and never accept her - the punk rock lesbian who walked around in bare feet and no bra most of the time.

She was pleasantly surprised when they ended up being fun, and mostly turned their Mean Girls Judgement on others, or each other. Somehow Adore became the untouchable and beloved mascot of the group, the cool, alternative one who gave them all street cred. Tyra loved her because they were both from the South, both from big families and both of them possessed deeply developed bullshit detectors. Tati enjoyed doing shots with her and wreaking havoc (and was good for a sloppy drunken makeout session at least a few times a year) and Morgan - well, Morgan was kind of a cunt, but in the very best way. It was part of her charm, and, as she explained it, part of her Scottish heritage.

This night out with her friends was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her current relationship drama. She’d only spoken to Pearl once since their fight the other day, and it was tense, Pearl claiming to be running into a meeting. After that, nothing. No messages, no calls--she still wasn’t 100% sure where things stood between them.

Adore turned to Courtney, who absentmindedly stirred her drink with a straw, staring into space. She’d already noticed a bit of a change in her mood from a week ago - there was definitely something lighter about her. Still, quiet wistfulness wasn’t her general M.O. in a club - usually she was the first one on the dance floor. Adore nudged her gently with a hip.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Courtney turned to her with a little smile, green eyes soft.

“Are you having fun?”

“Of course! I always have fun with you,” she said, wrapping her arms around Adore’s waist and cuddling closer, laying a head on her shoulder.

Adore pressed the kiss to the top of her head before asking the other question on her mind, “So...um...what’s going on with you and my sister?”

Courtney’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard you hung out today…and that you’re joining us for Thanksgiving?”

“Oh. Right. No, I just ran into her by chance.”

“Where the hell are you hanging out, where you run into someone like that?” Morgan asked. “The fuckin’ SoHo house?”

“It was a bookstore.”

“Ugh, smart bitch.”

“And like…she bought me lunch because she knows I’m poor,” Courtney explained, “and since you guys will be in town and I don’t have family here, she just asked if I wanted to come.”

“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Tyra cut in, “She just took you on a date and then invited you to a family holiday…”

“It wasn’t a date!” Courtney said, laughing. “It was really all just very casual. She was just being nice.”

“Being nice for no reason. Sounds like Bianca alright,” Adore said, one eyebrow raised, and Courtney giggled again, shrugging.

“Maybe she’s nicer than you think.”

“Listen, Courtney, I’m glad you’re gonna be there because I love you. But just...you know, my sister is very...uh…”

“Yeah?”

“No, she’s great. Like, she’s the best. But…” Adore trailed off, grabbing a shot from the round Morgan was setting on the table and tossing it back.

It felt weird to be having this conversation. Did she really need to warn Courtney about Bianca? After all, B had joked about hitting on her before but never actually done anything. And what would she even say? ‘My sister is very good at charming the pants off every girl who catches her attention--especially the blondes’? ‘Beware the dimples’? She was certain that Bianca would never make a move on someone who didn’t want it, so...why not just leave it alone?

“You know what? Nevermind. Whose phone is that?” Adore felt her pocket, realizing that the out of control buzzing was her own phone--hopefully not her sister being an impatient cunt about Courtney’s number.

PEARL: Hey. I’m sorry about how I acted on Thursday.

PEARL: And yesterday

PEARL: There’s a warehouse party in Brooklyn tomorrow

PEARL: At the navy yard. Wanna go?

PEARL: It’s right by Grimaldi’s…

PEARL: Best pizza in NY

PEARL: My treat

ADORE: So you like pizza again, huh?

PEARL: It’s my favorite ;)

ADORE: Lol, okay, I’m in. <3

Adore looked back up at her friends, grinning at the group. “Let’s go dance!”

***

Sutan wasn’t nervous.

He wasn’t, because that would be ridiculous.

Sutan took a sip of his coffee, watching people walk by the cafe he was sitting at. It was a surprisingly sunny Saturday for October, the air crisp and fresh. He had already waited for 20 minutes, Violet once again late, but Sutan had asked for a chocolate croissant with his first cup of coffee, his girlfriend's time management skills surprisingly terrible.

Sutan was planning to invite Violet to Aspen with him, Raja and Raven for their annual ski trip. It was a tradition of theirs, Raja and he owning a cabin together that they visited every year. He wasn’t a brilliant skier, but he liked the mountain air, the sense of freedom, and of being disconnected while out on the slopes.

He had thought about inviting Violet along for weeks, Raven needling him about whether or not Violet would be coming with him.

Sutan wanted Violet to join them. Wanted to see her all dressed up in winter wear, wanted to teach her how to ski and have drinks by the fire in the evening.

There was just the teeny tiny insignificant detail, that the last time he had asked someone to come with him and Raja to Aspen, it had been a terrible time.

He didn’t hate Kahmora, at least not any more, their divorce lasting longer than their marriage, but he still felt a sense of dread every time he visited L.A. - which was why he avoided the city as much as he could, Kahmora thankfully relocating once they severed ties.

Violet wasn’t Kahmora though, actually, they were as different as day and night.

“Hey.”

Sutan turned his head to see Violet come walking towards him, her coat closely around her, her new bag in hand, and Sutan was glad he had splurged for the largest model Dior made, the purse already stuffed.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Violet pressed a kiss against his cheek, sliding in on the other side of the table, her dress brushing against him. “Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Violet didn’t need to know that he already finished a chocolate croissant, that sin between him and his trainer.

“Ah,” Violet looked guilty for a second, brushing a bit of her hair behind her ear, her earring of the day a tiny golden hook. “Sorry, I was at work and time just flew by-”

“Work?” Sutan twisted his wrist, taking a peek at his Rolex. “It’s 10:33 on a Saturday?”

“I went in at 6.” Violet picked the menu up, the fact that she tried to pretend that she wasn’t going to order avocado on rye kind of cute. “I know I have to turn my dress over to tailoring sooner or later-”

“But you want to finish as much as you can?” Sutan smiled, emptying his coffee cup. “Of course.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Sutan held up his hands in defense. “Promise.” He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Violet’s right hand, her fingertips thankfully not the raw red points he had helped wrap and put ice on. “It’s just very dedicated-”

“This is my first chance to get an actual piece on the runway. It has to be perfect-” Violet was cut off as the waiter came over, Sutan hiding a grin as she ordered avocado on rye, his second breakfast a plate of scrambled eggs and salmon.

“Speaking of perfect.” Sutan moved his chair while the waiter walked away, his stomach tied up in a knot. “I was wondering, if…”

“Yes?” Violet tilted her head, clearly listening, her brow eyes resting on his face.

“If you’d like...” Sutan had no idea why this was so hard, “to come to Aspen with Raja, Raven and I in January?”

“What?” Violet looked genuinely confused.

“Raja and I own a cabin, and-”

“Like, in Colorado? Like Aspen Aspen? Like posh skiing Aspen?”

“Yes?” Sutan lifted a brow. “Do you know any other Aspen?”

“No, but I-” Violet bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I don’t know how to ski?”

“Oh,” Sutan laughed, the admission not at all what he had expected. “Well, lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled. “I can promise you, that that is not a problem.”

[starry-knight-skies]

Title: Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not? Part Summary: Roman’s crush on Virgil is developing rather quickly over the years and he’s having a hard time keeping his feelings to himself in fear of ruining their friendship. But one chilly evening in October, he decides to take a chance and who knows? Maybe Virgil feels the same Words: 1788 Part 1 / Part 2

Commission piece I did for @space-captain-lars Commission Info If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ko-fi

After that first magical encounter, Roman and Virgil started a tentative friendship that quickly grew into something close when they discovered a lot of shared interests, like their love for Disney, the arts, and though Virgil would vehemently deny it, musical theater. It’s led to late night discussions and sleepovers at each other’s houses, and it wasn’t long before Roman could proudly proclaim that Virgil was one of his very nearest and dearest friends.

There was also the little problem of his little crush on Virgil. What started as a small flame in fifth grade grew to a full blaze by the time they hit high school and his feelings were getting harder to hide. The more he learned about him, the more time they spent together, the quicker he fell. But if Roman was one thing, he was determined, and he was going to use that determination to keep his feelings close to his chest and not let Virgil know in fear of ruining this wonderful friendship they found themselves in. What if he confessed and Virgil didn’t feel the same? He’d ruin this easy camaraderie and that was something he couldn’t bear to see happen. 

So what if one of his favorite things to do was to make Virgil laugh, to see a smile stretch across that beloved face and his eyes scrunch up in delight. So what if the sound of his laughter was in his top five favorite sounds? He most certainly not pining, thank you very much Remus! Except even though he would deny it, he knew it was true. Hell, everyone probably knew, except for Virgil. And that was okay, really. If he repeats it enough times, maybe he’ll start to believe it.

It was hard though when they’re sitting out on the roof of Virgil’s garage, his bedroom window open behind them and soft music playing the Hamilton soundtrack from Virgil’s laptop. It was a weekly ritual they’ve taken up since starting high school, every Friday night they’d hang out at one of their houses, doing homework together and just spending one on one time together after the stresses of the week. Once they finished any homework or project, they might put on a movie, to sit outside and just talk about anything and everything that comes to mind, or play silly little games to just screw around and have fun. 

Like on this fine Friday evening, the second weekend in October and the air is crisp, and the leaves were beginning to change colors on the trees. Virgil had climbed out onto the roof without his hoodie, and Roman, being the generous soul that he was, offered up his letterman jacket for him to wear instead. It was a bit too broad in the shoulders, and the sleeves went past his hands, but the sight of him in it, with his My Chemical Romance shirt and spiderwebs skirt, made Roman’s heart skip a beat and he was more than okay with being a little cold if it meant he got to sit here beside such a sight. 

“Okay… Would you rather kiss Alex from the Drama Club or Logan?” The game of choice for tonight was picking two of their classmates and picking who’d they’d rather kiss, whether on the cheek or otherwise was up for debate. They’ve been at it for a good thirty minutes and weren’t allowed to pick the same person twice, so they were beginning to run out of options.

Virgil hummed thoughtfully, leaning back on his arms as he watched the sun slowly sinking over the horizon. The way the light made his eyes glisten was a little distracting and Roman almost didn’t hear his answer. “I’d have to ask Patton first, but I’d give Logan a kiss on the cheek if he’d let me.”

Roman nodded in understanding, knowing he would have picked the same thing if he had been asked. Logan joined their little friend group around the beginning of freshman year and Patton took to him rather quickly despite his standoffish behavior. No one knew how it happened, but Patton bounced into school one morning and announced that they were dating and he’s been so happy ever since. Logan was also slowly learning to be more open about his feelings, even though he did prefer his space, but being around Patton was good for him. They were good for each other. 

“Would you rather kiss Patton or Dorian?” Virgil asked, turning to look at Roman with a raised eyebrow like he already knew the answer. And he did, because it was obvious.

“Patton, of course! Who wouldn’t want to kiss that happy ball of sunshine?” Roman waved a hand through the air dramatically to help emphasize his point. It really was obvious, Patton was one of his dearest friends. Dorian was an asshole who liked to pick on the love of his life. There was no contest. 

Virgil huffed out a laugh, dropping back to lay back flat on the roof, arms cushioned behind his head as he looked up at the sky. Roman watched him fondly for a moment before deciding to take a chance, be bold and ask the question he really wanted to know the answer to. Nerves twisted in his stomach, but he pushed them down and squared his shoulders. “Would you rather kiss… me or Remus?”

“Remus of course.” Virgil answered without hesitation, giving a little shrug, and Roman felt his heart sink. “There’s just something about the way he always smells like a mix of nacho cheese and cinnamon that just really appeals to me.” 

“Oh, yeah. Of course. That makes sense.” He was barely able to keep the disappointment of his voice and he wasn’t so sure he succeeded when Virgil turned to look at him.

Virgil huffed out a laugh, pushing himself to sit up fully and turn to face Roman fully. “You don’t actually think I’m serious, do you?” He let out a small, disbelieving sound when his question just got a little shrug in response. “Remus is so not my type, and I definitely do not want to fight Veronica for him.”

Roman couldn’t really fault him for that, if he was being honest. He didn’t want to fight her either. Veronica Clarke was on the kickboxing team and held the undefeated title since she joined freshman year. Remus and she have been dating since the summer before high school and he had once commented how he liked having a girlfriend who could kick his ass. 

“I’d much rather kiss you.” Virgil said matter-of-factly before letting out a little sigh, crossing his legs and looking at Roman curiously. “Okay, last question before we head inside. Would you rather kiss Remy… or me?” 

Roman will admit to being rather clueless in the past, but even he couldn’t mistake the blush slowly spreading across Virgil’s cheeks and he could feel his heart speeding up in anticipation. “What if I was to say I’d rather kiss Remy?” he asked, voice a little quieter than he would have liked.

“I’d say you’re lying.” Virgil leaned forward slightly, a shy, uncertain look in his eyes. “I might have been imagining it, but I was thinking, maybe, you might kind of like me?” 

Roman’s heart was racing in his chest, had he really been that obvious? But wait… Virgil knew then? And was okay with it? He could feel his brain struggling to process the fact, feeling like it was almost too good to be true. “I.. um.. Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Virgil gave a little nod, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Good, good.” He bit his lip, looking away a little shyly. “So…?” He trailed off.

Roman raised an eyebrow, heart melting a little at how cute Virgil looked. “So?” he prompted, leaning forward slightly, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

Virgil bit his lip, a little hesitant, more than a little shy. “Are you gonna kiss me or not?” 

Sitting there, with Virgil, the setting sun hitting him just right and making him look like he was glowing, and Roman gladly tripped head over heels into fully in love with him. He wasted no more time, lifting a hand to gently cup Virgil’s chin, turning him towards him as he pressed their lips together. The kiss was light, chaste even, lasting only a few moments before they were pulling back and he rested their foreheads together. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” His heart was thrumming happily in his chest and he couldn’t help but smile, feeling so happy and content in this moment that he never wanted it to end.

Virgil huffed out a laugh, brushing their noses together gently. “I have an idea.” His voice was soft, and he shifted to press their lips together again for a longer kiss, an arm reaching up to wrap around Roman’s neck and hold him close. 

This kiss lasted significantly longer and Roman could easily sit out here for hours if they could, just trading soft kisses and he’d happily whisper sweet words of love and adoration if he could. And he was about to, until a shot of cold water shot him in the side of the face and he jerked back with a gasp, turning to glare at the bedroom window and the grinning Remy who was holding a squirt gun, aiming it at them.

“Remy!” Virgil hissed, frowning at his twin in annoyance. “What the hell was that for?!” He had been enjoying that!

“Had to break up this little love-fest, but mom says it’s time for dinner and she wanted me to come get you.” Remy said with a little shrug, and stepping away from the window now that he’s completed his mission.

“That sneaky little -” Virgil’s annoyed mumbling was cut off by Roman stealing one last kiss before moving back, giving him a little smile. That little action resulted in a smile, so he considered it a win.

“Come on. We should get heading inside anyway.” The sun was almost fully over the horizon and once it was gone, it was going to get cold fast and Roman wanted to be nice and warm inside before then, maybe cuddled up to his boyfriend (?) and watching a movie before he had to head home. 

Virgil let out a little sigh but agreed, moving to crawl back into the house and Roman followed. He moved to turn the music off when he stopped, finger hovering over the pause button as ‘Helpless’ played. ‘How fitting.’ He thought, a little smile on his face as he stopped the music, but continued to hum along as he followed Virgil downstairs.

[angsty-aliens]

Truck Stop Knives And Other Accessories of Childhood

The fic isn’t finished yet, but it should be soon so I’ve started posting it on Ao3. 

***

A little boy stood with his back against the wall, one hand hidden in a pocket, heaving panicked breaths. His jeans were worn through at the knees, with frayed bottoms where they dangled a bit too long. His shirt was a solid blue with small holes near the neck and slightly faded, like a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down. He had an oversized grey hoodie with grime encrusted elbows and a mysterious stain on the front. Ketchup? Blood? His entire ensemble gave the impression of being discarded, an after-thought. Nothing chosen by him, everything chosen for him and without much care.

Liz took one step closer and he plastered himself flat to the wall, nowhere else to go. His eyes were wide and flickered back and forth, trying to track every possible threat at once and finding the number of threats to be overwhelming. He looked like a trapped animal ready to gnaw off his own leg for a chance at freedom.

She raised her hands and spoke gently, “hey… hey it’s okay. You’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Liz took a cautious step forward and the little boy's hand clenched into a fist inside his jeans pocket.

Michael watched this exchange and warned, “Don’t touch him Liz.”

Liz didn’t let her eyes leave the boy, “He’s your inner child, Michael. He’s adorable.”

“My inner child will stab you.”

She spun around at that, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Michael just shrugged, “His hand is in his right pocket. There’s a switchblade there. I stole it from a truck stop when I was ten. Blue handle. Keep stepping closer and I’m sure he’ll show it to you.”

The little boy looked at Michael with betrayal and the older man just raised an eyebrow, “Don’t stab my friends.”

Liz took a step back and the kid took a shuddering breath but unpeeled himself from the wall. He was still ready to run, but looked less likely to make anyone bleed to do it.

This was the stupidest lab accident Michael Guerin had ever been in, and he was the idiot who let Liz inject him with various science projects like a lab rat. He’d found something alien buried out near the pods and brought it back to the bunker under the airstream to investigate. He’d been so careful not to touch it with his bare hands. They’d had the artifact for days. Long enough for Alex to run some programs to try and translate the sigils covering the flat shimmering disk. Long enough for Liz to swab, looking to break down the chemical components of the artifact. All Alex was able to translate was “memory,” “child,” and “temporary.” They were all just educated guesses, but considering there was a tiny version of Michael Guerin standing in his bunker because he touched the disk and without thinking, pressed it to his forehead like it was muscle memory… Michael was pretty sure that translation was correct. He had a physical embodiment of his inner child standing in his lab, ready to stab Liz. Perfect, must be Tuesday.

Michael took a great heaving sigh and forced himself to walk towards the kid who was scowling, and who’s hand was definitely still in his pocket, fisted around the knife. “Do you know who I am?”

The boy pressed his lips together tightly and glared up at him.

“Okay, so we’re gonna rip this off like a bandaid. I’m you, but 28 years old. There was an accident and you… manifested. No we’re not messing with you. You’re an alien. You can drink acetone. Max and Isobel are also aliens.” Michael telekinetically ripped the switchblade out of the kid’s pocket and floated it into his hand. “Believe me?”

The boy’s eyes widened as he watched his weapon float away and Michael slapped a palm over his face, “shit I forgot we didn’t develop the TK until we were twelve. Um, yeah, spoiler alert, that’s a thing you can do.”

Michael slipped the knife into his pocket. Better not to have the kid armed right now. Liz examined the alien disk while being careful not to touch it. “So he’s a construct of your memory? He’s not like literally you from the past? We’re not going to alter the future, right?”

“I promise to let you know if I turn into Marty McFly, but I don’t think I’ll be disappearing from any photographs soon. I mean this thing didn’t come with a users manual, at least not one we can read. But I think he’s me… but you know, shorter.”

Liz watched from a respectful distance, “mijo, how old are you?” She whispered to Michael, “he’s tiny.” With a great bellowing voice the kid shouted, “I’m ELEVEN and you’re UGLY.”

He bolted, but Michael just grabbed him around the waist and hauled him up before he reached the ladder. “Fun. Great, we’re like one big happy family. Ugh, but seriously why am I so little? I thought eleven year olds were bigger. I FELT bigger.” He held the kid out in front of him, dodging kicking feet. “I mean Isobel was always taller than me, but I could have sworn me and Max were the same size. Is this what eleven year olds are supposed to look like?”

Liz smacked the back of Michael’s head, “put him down. He clearly doesn’t like being told he’s small.” She turned to the still squirming child and said in a slow syrupy voice, “I’m sorry, you’re not small. We’re just not used to kids. We don’t know how big eleven year olds are supposed to be. I’m sure you’re a very big eleven year old.”

The kid just glared and tried to kick her while still dangling in the air. Michael gave him a shake in retaliation.

“Michael Guerin,” Liz hissed, “you will not shake him. What’s the matter with you? He’s a kid.”

He shrugged, “he’s not a real kid. He’s me. And it’s not like it hurts. If I whack him, then you can yell at me.”

Liz was scandalized, “you’re not gonna WHACK him.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “of course I’m not gonna whack him. But I’m also not gonna let him kick you.”

“And he IS a real kid. I mean, this might be a temporary thing. Maybe a therapy tool? You have to learn to love your inner child or something? But he is real.”

The two Michaels gave each other distrustful looks. Liz didn’t get it. Michael had never been a real kid. He was the changeling stuck in other people’s nests. He may have looked like a kid but he was never real. His foster parents understood that. There were good kids with parents who loved them unconditionally. And then there was Michael Guerin, who got left behind and never got picked. But Michael did remember what it felt like to be physically restrained by someone bigger, and so with a stern look he put down his younger self. “Do NOT kick Liz. Do not stab Liz. Maybe don’t even look at Liz. Stop being a little shit.” “I’m calling Alex. You’re terrible with children.” Liz threw her hands up, “I don’t get it, I’ve seen you interact with kids before and you’ve always been so nice, Michael. You’ve been gentle and patient. I don’t understand why you’re not giving Mikey the same care.” “Mikey?” They both asked her in unison.

Liz shrugged, “it’s easier than calling you Big Michael and Little…” She quickly corrected herself, “Younger Michael.”

She mused, “Maybe I should call Isobel and Max too. Kyle? Should we get Kyle to check him out?”

Mikey was eyeballing the ladder again and Michael just put one careful hand on his shoulder to discourage the impulse. “Do not call Kyle. Mini-me never actually stabbed a grown up. I just kept the knife to scare away fellow foster kids mostly. But if you call a doctor, the kid will freak out.”

“I won’t freak out. I don’t freak out.” The kid grumbled, deeply offended.

“Yeah? What happened when the Lees took you to that shitty pediatrician when you were eight?” Michael narrowed his eyes at the scowling eleven year old.

The kid announced proudly, “I bit him.”

“You bit him.” Michael added, “And we got our asses roasted when we got home.”

Mikey protested, “No doctors! You know no doctors!”

“Yeah. No doctors. Can’t let anyone know the secret. And yes, throwing an absolute fit every time we were supposed to get a booster shot meant foster parents generally didn’t try to take us. But Kyle already knows. I can give you a list of the grown ups who know. Obviously we’re not announcing it and having an Alien Pride Parade but we have some people who know now.”

Michael turned to Liz, “but we still shouldn’t have them all show up at once. Even I don’t like being in a room with that many people and I’m not an artificial construct of my inner traumatic childhood.”

The kid muttered, “you’re an artificial construct of my farts.”

“Call either Alex, or Isobel and Max. I don’t care which. But not your whole Scooby Gang.”

***

After several attempts to reconnect the Michaels by having them both hold the artifact, they ended up in Max’s living room. It was decided that the bunker was too small and the airstream was definitely too small and it’d just be easier to meet someplace a little further from town where no one would show up for an oil change and see a kid who shouldn’t exist.

The two Michaels sat on the couch as Liz, Max, and Isobel stood in front of them with arms crossed. Michael was starting to feel like a specimen, and Mikey sunk lower on the couch, once again feeling like an inconvenient piece of trouble.

Max broke the silence, “Well this is certainly Michael when we first met him.” He crouched down and said in an awkwardly soft voice, “heeeey buddy. I’m Max. Do you remember me?”

Michael rolled his eyes and whispered to his younger self, “don’t stab Max either.”

With that reminder of their first meeting, Max stood up and took a safer step back. Both Michaels chuckled conspiratorially. Isobel was more pragmatic, “Okay so we’re going to need clothing, a toothbrush, pajamas… What size clothing are you? Mikey? Ugh Liz, that’s a terrible nickname. Mikey, stand up so I can check your sizes and make a list. This is also the time to make any requests, or I’ll finally get to give my little brother…”

“Not your little brother!” Michael interrupted.

Isobel continued, “Give my little brother the makeover I’ve always wanted to.”

The kid found himself bullied up to his feet and Isobel began reaching into his shirt to check for a label. Mikey tolerated it until she spun him around to check for the label in the back of his pants. When she started to raise his shirt and grab at his waistband, he jerked away.

Isobel stepped away with hands raised in surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry Mikey. You can tell me your sizes later. I… Honey, who hurt you? Your back…”

Michael found himself standing in front of the kid to placate his siblings, “Iz, you know I was with the religious fundamentalists. Leave the kid alone.”

Isobel protested, “I didn’t know they hurt you like that. Michael, his back…”

Michael turned back to the kid, matter of factly, “Hey Mikey, do you wanna talk about this?”

“Fuck no.”

“There’s your answer, Iz.”

Isobel looked torn between reprimanding the boy on his language, and trying to pry further. Max eventually took his sister’s elbow and led her to the kitchen where they could whisper furiously about all of Michael’s childhood traumas and pretend no one could hear them.

Liz twisted her hands, “soooo… are you hungry? I could make pancakes.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “it’s 4pm, Liz.” Liz replied, “Everytime is a good time for pancakes, Michael.”  

Mikey interjected, “Look, if the lady wants to make pancakes, let her make pancakes.”

Grateful to have a task, Liz disappeared into the kitchen where she could join Michael’s meddling siblings in whispering about them.

Michael flung himself back on the couch with a dramatic sigh, and Mikey joined him. They stared at Max’s empty fireplace, carefully not making eye contact.

“So where do you want to stay tonight? We can crash with Max, or I can maybe call my... friend, Alex. Alex has a cabin and he won’t be weird about this. Maybe. Hopefully he won’t be weird about this.”

The kid shrugged.

Michael swallowed, “what’s wrong with your back?”

Kid stared intently at the fireplace and shrugged again, “switch.”

Michael closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

It felt like no time passed at all before Max, Isobel, and Liz came out of the kitchen, which was an open concept kitchen and a terrible place to try and whisper about Michael’s childhood trauma. Michael gave them an unimpressed look to try and convey that thought through some artful eyebrow lifting. Isobel just shrugged, completely unrepentant. Liz had made pancakes as promised and they gathered around the dining room table. Mikey already had a hand out, pancake almost in reach. “Wash hands first!” Liz pulled the plate back.

Michael smirked and reached for the pancakes, “Yeah, kid, go wash your hands.”

The plate shifted again and Liz poked him in the chest, “¿Qué estás haciendo? Animals, all of you. Go wash your hands. Didn’t anyone teach you manners?” Michael couldn’t catch the rapid fire spanish that followed, but he was pretty sure she called him a filthy vulture. With mutual grumbling, they went to the kitchen to scrub up. When they returned to the table, the other adults were already eating having previously washed their hands. They left two chairs open for them between Liz and Isobel sitting at either end of the table. Max sat across from them, and continued to stare at the little boy with doe eyes. Michael was finding the whole thing extremely irritating, and based on Mikey’s rhythmic kicking at his chair, the kid was equally uncomfortable. Michael made the boy a plate with three pancakes and plenty of syrup before grabbing his own stack. Liz watched in horror as they both rolled a pancake up like a burrito and shoved it in their faces. There were going to be sticky handprints everywhere, little child sized ones, and big adult sized ones. Ridiculous. Isobel cleared her throat, “so… Mikey, do you want to tell us more about your foster placement?”

Michael looked up from his second pancake burrito and warned, “Iz. Leave it.”

Isobel protested, “Michael, I don’t see why it’s a big secret. We should be able to talk about these things.”

With a huff, Michael shoved the entire pancake into his mouth and wiped at his sticky hands before gesturing for his sister to follow him to Max’s bedroom. The kid just watched this exchange in silence as he kicked at the rungs of his chair, and took another giant bite. Maybe he could fit one of the dry pancakes in his pocket. If it didn’t have syrup on it, it’d probably stay good for at least a day.

Michael closed the door behind them, because unlike his siblings he knew how to meddle without being heard by the whole room.

“Iz, I know you’re concerned but not only does he not want to talk about this with you, but I don’t really want to talk about it either. I didn’t share and care as a kid ON PURPOSE.” She threw her hands up in frustration, “Why wouldn’t you have told us it was this bad though? We could have done something!”

“What were you going to do? Tell your parents? They weren’t going to come in and rescue me. They didn’t want me at seven, they weren’t going to want me at eleven. Were you going to tell the cops? Because they also didn’t really care. Only thing that maybe would have happened is I’d’ve gotten a new placement, and that could have been anywhere. It took four years for me to get to Roswell. I wasn’t going to whine about some bruises and get shipped back to Albuquerque. I know I wasn’t warm and fuzzy to you and Max at first, but I still didn’t want to leave.” “You could have still talked about it. Even if we couldn’t do anything, you shouldn’t have had to keep it a secret.” “I talked sometimes, and it always freaked you both out. I didn’t… I don’t want to be someone you pity.” Michael snapped, “Lots of people have shitty childhoods. They get over it. It’s not a big deal.”

Isobel gave him a displeased look. “Okay but Mikey could talk about it. You think the disk may have been a therapy tool. Maybe he NEEDS to talk about it. Just because you chose to keep it a secret as a kid, doesn’t mean you should have kept it a secret. And you don’t need to keep it a secret now. I’m not going to pity you Michael. You’re far too annoying for me to pity. I can be mad people hurt you without it being pity.” “Mikey…” Michael shuddered, “I hate that nickname and I’m annoyed it’s actually useful here. Mikey, can talk to me. It’s MY therapy. Even if it is therapy. I wish I never touched the damn thing. I thought I was so good putting up a mask as a kid, and obviously I sucked at it and it’s just adults didn’t care. He’s a walking, talking open wound and I’d rather everyone not get to examine all my childhood traumas. You wouldn’t enjoy a little Isobel walking around so we can all remember how scared you were of not being perfect.” She socked his shoulder, “I wasn’t scared of not being perfect.” “If we had a little Isobel here, I’m pretty sure you’d see and EVERYONE would see you were very, very scared of not being perfect.” He gave her a pointed look, “It’s not fun being under a microscope. Can we just… not? Kid literally manifested like an hour ago. Lets not force him into group therapy right now.”

Isobel inhaled deeply and raised an eyebrow, “fine. I’ll stop asking for now. But we’re having a conversation about this later, the two of us. I thought we all agreed, no more secrets.”

Michael laughed, “My childhood isn’t a secret. I’m surprised I didn’t win “Most Tragic Orphan” in the school year book. You and Max knew, I just didn’t give you the unabridged epic version. You got the cliff notes and that’s all you’re getting. Leave my little clone alone.”

Isobel in true, queen bee splendor, fixed her brother with a considering gaze before sauntering out of the room like this whole thing was her idea to begin with. Michael trailed behind her as they rejoined the table. Max announced in an awed whisper, “He’s eaten six pancakes.”

Michael beamed proudly as the kid licked syrup off his palm.

Before long, Max was on dish duty as Liz tried to wipe the kid down with a wet cloth while he squirmed,  “I’m eleven, lady. I know how to wash my own face!”

She attacked a particularly sticky spot on his cheek, “Unfortunately for you I know Michael Guerin as an adult and if I don’t trust an adult Michael Guerin to properly remove syrup, I definitely don’t trust you.”

Both Guerins gave her an outraged look, but Liz was an expert at ignoring people and she just kept scrubbing the kid’s face. Without moving her gaze from the boy’s cheek, she dictated to Guerin senior, “You better wash your hands before you touch anything. I can’t believe you two didn’t use a knife and fork. Pancakes are not finger food.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but obediently went to wash his face and hands. He even submitted to Liz’s inspection afterwards to make sure he did an adequate job. His younger half seemed delighted that someone else was receiving Liz’s attention. In a fit of true maturity, Michael flipped off his younger half and while Liz was distracted being scandalized, Mikey made sure to flip him off right back.  

Now that basic necessities were taken care of, Michael needed to figure out a place to stash the kid. The airstream was too small. Michael knew he could make it work anyway. He never expected anything fancy as a kid, and he hardly ever had his own room. Crashing in a sleeping bag on the floor wouldn’t be the end of the world by a long shot, but despite that, Michael wanted to give the kid a better experience than that. Max would die from doe eyes if they attempted to crash here. Michael could already feel Max’s overwhelming sense of guilt, and it was exhausting. The idea of being here without Liz and Isobel as a buffer was excruciating. Staying with Isobel? No. Too nosy. And asking to crash with Liz at the Crashdown wasn’t even an option. Arturo could sniff out an orphan a mile away and Michael needed to keep his little mini-me far away from mainstreet. Maria was also out of the question. They were still friends despite the breakup, but The Wild Pony was too close to town and a bar was no place for the kid. Alex was the only real option left. His house had more space, but was in the center of town. But the cabin was far enough away from main roads that hopefully Mikey wouldn’t get the urge to hitchhike to Foster’s Ranch at 2am. It was small, but the couch was comfortable enough, and Michael could trust Alex not to see this as an opportunity to dig into Michael’s past. He understood the importance of secrets.

With that decided, Michael sent him a text trying to explain the situation. He knew Alex wouldn’t turn him away. They may not be together anymore, but they were still friends. At least trying to be friends. With that in mind, he collected Mikey from the clutches of Isobel.

“I promise you can torment us both later. But I need to grab clothes from the airstream, and we’re crashing with Alex. You can drop off essentials tonight, or tomorrow. Whatever’s easier. It’s Saturday so Walmart will be open late.”

Michael steered the kid towards his truck while waving vaguely in the direction of his siblings and Liz.

As he drove off, the kid asked, “it’s Saturday?”

“Yeah, and I made Iz promise not to go crazy with the clothing. She owes me so many favors. Don’t worry about it. I fixed her instapot last week. Do you know what an instapot is?” The kid shook his head and Michael shrugged, “yeah me neither. But I fixed it. So she owes me. And we’re literally the same person, so she owes you too.”

At the airstream, Michael stuffed some essentials inside a ratty blue backpack. When he got back to the truck, he handed the kid two packets of peanut butter crackers. “You can eat whenever you’re hungry. No one’s locking down the kitchen. But I know I like having some emergency food anyway.” As the kid started to protest, he pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket and pressed that into the boy’s hands. “For the pancakes. So they don’t get lint on them.” Mikey glowered at him, “I don’t have pancakes in my pocket.”

Michael shrugged with feigned nonchalance, “We’re the same person, and if I were eleven and a lady made a stack of pancakes, I’d have at LEAST one in my pocket. I mean maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I didn’t get good at swiping food until I got older. Eleven is pretty young.”

The kid glared and pulled two pancakes out of his hoodie’s pocket, and shoved them into the plastic bag. “You’re old and I don’t need your help. You think you’re hilarious, but the only thing funny here is what a joke your life is.”

Michael started the engine, and refused to make eye contact. He wasn’t going to let an infant hurt his feelings. He didn’t need to prove anything. He was doing fine.

[awkwardtaco056]

so now that i’m no longer in the Hell that was school and after finding the lovely blog @endcringe i’ve decided to talk about my own experiences with cringe culture, bullying, and why it’s Really Bad to not let people enjoy inherently harmless things, especially neurodivergent people (read more because this is gonna get long and triggering at times, TW for mentions of bullying, suicide, child abuse, a brief mention of incest shipping. I won’t be naming any of the peers that I discuss my experiences with, because my point with this post is Not to “cancel” anyone, I just want to speak out on my experiences)

I’m neurodivergent; I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was 8 years old. I didn’t know a lot about it, and a family member even painted it as “oh it’s nothing blah blah blah just apply yourself more. Because of this, I had no idea about the concept of hyperfixations until I was in my late teens. Due to that, I would obsess over random things and my family would shame me relentlessly for it. My mother said I had an “addictive personality” and that she feared I’d end up a drug addict or alcoholic because of it.

I look younger than what I am, I’m short, and small. AKA, the perfect candidate for being picked on by people bigger and stronger than me. People made fun of my art when I was around 13, but fortunately that was an instance where spite fueled me to improve drastically. However, just because I happened to take the shitty comments and have it fuel me then does NOT mean bullying people will have that effect all the time. At some point someone put my old South Park fan art on a cringe blog. I was temporarily hurt, and a little angry, but I realized that if someone was making fun of a 15 year old’s art, they probably didn’t have much going for them in life, so I moved on.

Fast forward to high school. Everything was horrible and I’m not exaggerating when I say I barely made it out alive. I was living in an abusive household up until January 2018 and I found comfort in many different interests. I’ve always found great comfort in music and the arts in general. In 2016, I drew a picture of a mermaid. I was inspired by the chocolate opal gemstone, and I thought it’d be fun to draw a gay chubby mermaid with dark skin and a rainbow tail and freckles. Junior year was lousy and I wanted something that sparked Joy. I was immediately told that “scientifically, mermaids wouldn’t look like that. Mind you, my take looked like this:

Obviously I wasn’t going for realism, I just wanted to draw a cute mermaid. However, they continued to tell me that they wouldn’t look like that, going as far as writing so on the back of said drawing. When I got angry at her for taking it too far (as I’d established before that I didn’t like it when people wrote on my art without permission), they got angry back, accusing me of being unable to take criticism. Heated by the accusation, I went as far as asking my art teacher if it was fair for them to say that, and she said no, stating that constructive criticism would be talking about how I could improve my lineart and coloring in the digital version. I took her actual helpful criticism and since then have improved Drastically in digital art. Even with that being said, I found myself hesitant to participate in things such as MerMay because I was leery of hearing that peer berate me for having cartoony mermaids. 

 During high school I grew to love many musicians, a lot of emo/alternative stuff, a couple being Twenty One Pilots and Melanie Martinez. I love how unique TOP’s style is, their open discussion of mental illness, and as someone who had a rough childhood, I connected with every single song on Cry Baby. It was like nothing I’d ever heard. I started listening to mashups featuring all these different artists I love, adoring how they could change the tone and sound so drastically. A peer Bully of mine in junior year condemned these two artists, declaring that they made “Bad Music” simply because it didn’t fit their tastes. They’d throw my drawings on the ground, write over them in pen, steal my headphones so I couldn’t listen to music, push me around, complain that mashups sucked and gave them a headache, and in general shit all over conetnt that was actively preventing me from committing suicide. 

Some family members were no better. Once high school hit, I began listening to Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, and My Chemical Romance. Their deep complex lyrics stuck with me. I would write down quotes from my favorite songs and thanks to hyperfixating, I remember each studio album in order My mother resented when I fell in love with the “Emo Trinity” because “the Columbine  shooters were emo and that event traumatized me” Despite that, not only did the Columbine tragedy occur in 1999 and none of the bands got together until the early 2000s, but I have a pretty good feeling those groups aren’t For gun violence. The other side constantly criticized the fact that I love FOB, P!ATD, and MCR because I’m black and “why must you listen to that white people music.”

 I grew fond of Dan and Phil in high school (and I’m still a fan to this day!), I loved Phil’s kindness and positive aura and I deeply connect with Dan’s sense of humor and personality. Their content made me happy during some very dark times in my life. It’s November 2017, I’m over a close peer’s house at the time, and notice PINOF is upon us. I drew the PINOF whiskers on my face, my plan being to quietly watch them in the corner of peer’s bedroom on my phone through headphones, the others were doing their own thing and I knew they didn’t like them, so I thought they’d respect it if I silently indulged in it. Unfortunately, the complete opposite happened. I was immediately shunned and locked out of the bedroom, told that I’d only be let back in if I washed the whiskers off because “absolutely not”. Me, being stubborn, washed them off temporarily but drew them back on in the room. Life during then was especially bad for me, as the abusive household I was in was getting worse. They noticed, of course, and even though all I wanted was to enjoy this small tradition in a time during a deep depression, I was immediately shoved out the room and locked out, only to have said peer’s family members notice. I’m a relatively shy person, so this was honesty a really harrowing experience that had a lasting effect on me. 

I grew to adore Sanders Sides as well, but the moment I found out most of my peers didn’t like Thomas, I was terrified.  I stopped watching Dan and Phil’s content for months and shied away from other fandoms too, only occasionally indulging in times of complete solitude. One time when said peers were due to visit my house for the first time, I saw the Phandom and Fander stuff I’d hung up on my wall in my little sanctuary that was my bedroom (it was the first time in years I’d had my own room), and I was filled with panic and fear. I took them down and hid them away, genuinely terrified of what they’d do to me if they saw. It’s still incites so much anger in me to this day because they turned around and ended up shipping incest, but somehow liking D&P and Sanders Sides was So. Much. Worse.

They were baffled by my actions, despite having humiliated me Twice by going on a private blog of mine separate from everything so that I could fully indulge and laughing at everything on there, once at a peer’s house, once right in school. I don’t think they realized how traumatizing it was to have a large group of people in public laughing at something I was deeply self conscious about for all of my life. I put on a brave face at the time, but ended up crying in the bathroom after first period began. I continued to be treated as lesser until things came to an ugly head August 2018 when I ended up in the hospital because I nearly attempted suicide. Years of child abuse, bullying, and being deemed “cringy” made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be alive, that everyone would be happier if I were gone.

After arguably one of the lowest points in my life, I cut them off and slowly began to embrace the Real Me. I started letting myself enjoy the things again, made true friends and even found love, my first boyfriend ever at 18. I still get choked up retelling it, but when PINOF 10 dropped, after he found out how much I’d been hurt over the incident in 2017, I was greeted with a photo of him with the whiskers on his face. I cried for a while, blown away at such a pure act of kindness. He listens to me ramble about my interests, he compliments my taste in music, he watched K-12 with me. 

This got incredibly long, but my point is this: Cringe Culture hurts people. You might think it’s whatever if the Thing doesn’t apply to your interests, but content you’re denouncing as cringy could be something that’s keeping them alive, that one flicker of light in a void of darkness. When I was contemplating suicide, I listened to The Black Parade, repeating Gee’s words to myself over and over, that nothing in the world was worth hurting yourself over. Some friendly joshing here and there is okay, but actively ripping someone to shreds constantly to the point where they have a mental breakdown in front of you and later on plan their own demise is disgusting. Nobody should abuse anyone for having harmless interests, no one. Unless you’re participating in p*dophilic/inc*st/s*xual assault/inherently abusive ships/content and pretending it’s not bad because “Fiction doesn’t impact reality!”, you have every right to like what you like and be happy. Read homestuck. Play Undertale. Draw up the Wildest OCs you can imagine. And stay away from people who try to rob you of innocent fun, life is too short and in this cruel, unforgiving world, you deserve to be happy, whether you’re a 13 year old who draws cute furries, a 16 year old cosplayer on TikTok, a VSCO girl, a 30 year old who writes/draws self insert art or a 20 year old who adores Invader Zim. 

Cringe Culture is just bullying under a different name, and it can lead to many instances of people, especially fellow neurodivergent folk to feel isolated and ostracized. Attempting to bully someone out of an interest they have isn’t going to fix them; it’s more often than not going to cause more damage. I suffer from diagnosed C-PTSD, anxiety, and depression, and sometimes I still find myself trying to over-justify my interests. To all who are roped up in bad homes and lousy “friends” who berate you for your innocent passions, I’m sorry you’re suffering, things will one day get better even if it doesn’t feel like it, and fuck those people. I’d also like to note that sometimes even if it seems more terrifying, it’s better to have one or two close friends you can truly trust than a whole group that walks all over you. You have every right to call them out for treating you poorly, and if things don’t improve, you also have every right to leave.

You have a right to live your True Self.

[amandaoftherosemire]

No Mistakes...

Fandom: Marvel AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,279

Format: Two-part One-Shot

Warnings: Language, mild embarrassment, chemical intoxication

Summary: After a lab accident leaves you under the influence of a chemical cocktail, you can no longer hide your deeper feelings for your dearest friend, Steve. You’ve never told him, convinced he would be kind, but uninterested. Little do you know…

A/N: I have a deep need for all the fluff at the moment, so I thought I’d throw my sweetheart Steve some love. This is pure candy, something sweet and fluffy and attempting to be funny. I will be adding a second part, but this can be read by itself.

No Mistakes

Steve burst through the doors into the medical wing with his heart racing in terror. Not much could frighten him, but the news you’d been in some kind of lab accident had done the trick.

“Heeey, Cap!” Clint stepped in front of Steve, nearly getting bowled over in the process. Still, he dug in his heels and stopped Steve’s forward progress with an effort. Nat had given him a task, so he was gonna do it.

“Where’s y/n? Is she okay? What happened?” Clint smirked at the sound of Steve trying to sound authoritative despite the wobble in his voice. Maybe they should let the two of you hang out after all.

“There was an explosion in the lab.” Clint had his hands on Steve’s chest, holding him back from pushing through the last door to see you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Only Steve's natural inclination toward courtesy under almost all circumstances kept him from pushing Clint to the side to see you for himself.

Your friendship wasn't one of those things that had happened quickly, his natural shyness and your reserve keeping you from having a conversation about anything but work for weeks after you’d started to work with Bruce in the lab. Instead, it was something that grew slowly, over time, like a crystal, each atom falling perfectly into place to create a stable structure. It may not have been romantic, but Captain America had taught Steve how hollow romance could be.

Steve didn't know when he started seeking your company above all others, but by the time he noticed, you were one of his dearest and closest friends. He trusted you, knew he could count on you. Despite the fact that he’d never said it aloud, he adored you, and the thought that you might be hurt had him frantic.

"An explosion!?" He didn’t realize he was leaning against Clint’s restraining hands, trying to see around the window in the door in an attempt to get a glimpse of you.

“Steve, calm down.” Clint couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice or off his face. If he hadn’t promised Nat he’d keep Steve out, he’d let the man go. He was certain Steve in this mood interacting with you in your current predicament would be the funniest thing he’d seen all week. “She's okay; she wasn't harmed, and the effects will wear off in a few hours.”

“A few hours!? What the hell happened!?” Steve was relieved to hear that you were unharmed, but deeply perturbed by all of the information he didn’t have. He'd be more relieved by Clint's apparent lack of concern, but Clint was relentlessly casual regardless of the circumstances. Steve couldn't be sure you were okay until he saw for himself.

Is that Steve!?

Steve felt the muscles in his neck relax and he stopped pushing so hard on Clint when, thanks to his enhanced hearing, he heard your voice. On the other hand, he'd never heard you sound quite like that. You sounded happy, excitable, downright bubbly.

No. Bucky, however, sounded as he often did. Downright surly. Except he had a soft spot for you, so he generally spoke much more gently than this stern and irritated denial. Steve didn't know why Bucky would lie to you, as he could undoubtedly hear Steve with as much ease as Steve could hear him. But now that he'd heard you speak, relief let Steve ease back to gather information.

Actually looking at Clint for the first time, Steve frowned. "What effects?"

The next moment, Steve's head was snapping up at the sound of your voice, louder, closer, and much more demanding. I wanna see Steve! You sounded offended, like someone was trying to stop you.

The next words out of Bucky didn't make sense, but made your tone make more sense. Can someone muzzle her before he hears this? He's right the fuck outside. Steve didn't know why, but it appeared that your friends and teammates had decided that the two of you should be kept apart for the moment. He was fascinated.

Clint was answering Steve's question, unaware that he was also listening to the conversation going on in the other room. "She got, like, a face full of the stuff she was messing with." At this Steve became concerned once more. You worked in R & D, specializing in organic chemistry. 'Stuff' could be all sorts of things.

"Banner said it messed with her brain so some parts that should be dark are lit up and parts that should be lit up are dark. All together it means she has no fear, no inhibitions, no verbal filter, and, at least for now, the cheerful disposition of a happy drunk, unless…" The look of horror that had overtaken Steve's face at the description of the accident faded to a look of sympathetic humor. He'd seen you intoxicated. If this was anything like that, you were acting the holy terror even as they spoke.

Clint grinned and finished, "Nat decided she should be isolated as much as possible."

Stevie's so good, and pretty, and…oof! Under the singsong of your voice, Steve could hear his best friend muttering even as he sounded like he was struggling with something.

"Then why is Bucky in there?" With that Steve made to push past Clint. Now that he had the lay of the land, he was fully prepared to go help. You were infinitely precious to him; he'd hardly go back to the rest of his day when you'd had an accident and needed someone to take care of you. When Clint stopped him again, he reacted with exasperation. "What!?"

"That's probably not a good idea." Clint was having a very hard time making himself care anymore. If Nat hadn't explicitly told him to not let Steve through the doors, he'd take him back personally. He knew it'd be more fun than this.

"Okay," Steve demanded, "what's going on?"

Apparently, his voice was now loud enough to carry to you, as he heard you chirp happily through the door. Steve!?

"She'd be embarrassed if you heard some of the things she's saying." Clint was super proud of himself for telling the truth without giving too much away. Nat had also forbidden him from telling Steve what exactly you'd been saying to get him banned from you. "She's basically tanked."

Steve! Natasha is annoying me! Under the nasal, tattle-tale sound of your voice came the sound of a scuffle. Steve was pretty sure now that you weren't in any danger. He wasn't sure, however, whether he wanted to know what was going on anymore.

A laugh in his voice, he asked, "I've spent plenty of time with her when she was drunk; why is this different?"

"Steve! Now she's hitting me, too! Now she's trying to muffle my screams, STEVE!"

At the sound of your clearly audible voice being muffled by what sounded like a pillow, Clint raised his brows and looked up, chuckling. "You could hear her the whole time, couldn't you?"

Steve just nodded and pulled Clint away from the door. He had heard the unmistakable sounds of your escape and sprint down the hall. Based on the slap of running bare feet on tile, he expected you to come barreling through the door in three… two… one…

"SSSSTTTTEEEEVVVVIIIIEEEE!!!!!!" He didn't expect, however, for you to launch yourself into his arms. Because he wasn't expecting it, he caught you a lot closer than he would normally. You practically climbed him as you wrapped around him in a happy hug.

Though he knew he should, he couldn't seem to make himself extricate himself from your embrace, even as he realized you were less clothed than he'd ever seen you. It seemed to be a day for firsts.

For example, you noisily and happily kissed Steve all over his face as you babbled. "You’re so pretty! Look at how pretty you are! And you’re sweet and good and kind and I’m so glad you’re my friend." With one last smacking kiss on Steve's shocked mouth, you dropped to your feet. With barely a pause, you started out. "I’m hungry. Let’s eat."

Steve cleared his throat, not sure how to react to anything that had just happened. To his surprise, the question he heard himself ask was "Why don’t you put your pants on first, doll?"

You didn't even glance backward, let alone pause. "Why?"

With one last baffled look at the other three, Steve followed you out.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Clint burst into gales of delighted laughter. Nat had a half-smile even as she rolled her eyes at him. Bucky was scowling. If they were just going to let you go off with Steve without even an attempt to stop you, why the hell had he spent the last half hour wrestling with your squirmy ass?

"Well," Clint said, philosophically, wiping a tear of joy from his eye, "we tried."

Natasha lifted an amused brow. "We did?"

Clint laughed. "We tried just hard enough to escape any blame for the consequences."

This last sentiment had Bucky finally grinning. "Indeed, we did."

Steve managed to convince you to go to his rooms instead of the communal kitchen, and in the process discovered the difficulties that Nat, Bucky, and Clint had dealt with while Bruce had examined you. Bucky had been ready to throttle you by the time Bruce pronounced you temporarily a pain in the ass, but ultimately unharmed.

The chemicals you'd been experimenting with, and which had literally blown up in your face, had temporary effects on the brain that affected behavior, but would wear off in time. Your meticulous research notes were helpful, even if you were not, and Bruce could state with certainty that you were perfectly safe, at least physically. He made no promises as to the psychological damage embarrassment might do.

The most concerning thing, and why you needed supervision, was that your amygdala were acting bizarre, the right all but dormant while the left flipped on and off seemingly at random. This meant that your emotions were completely unpredictable, and if that wasn't enough, you literally could not feel fear until the chemical cocktail wore off.

The inability to feel fear meant you were a lot more reckless than normal, and thus a danger to yourself in the meantime. There were also oddities in your frontal lobe, possibly explaining your complete lack of impulse control. Taken together, you were still yourself, but without any filters whatsoever and with sudden bursts of positive emotion.

If you'd known what exactly that meant, you'd have been wearing a full face mask with a respirator while you worked with what you should have considered the most dangerous chemicals of your life.

You felt loose, floaty, utterly relaxed. Your mind was at rest in a way you’d never before experienced. Half the time you were interacting with the world but felt like it couldn’t touch you. It wasn’t a bad feeling, simply detached.

The other half, you were happy to the point of euphoria, like you could punch through the sky if you needed to. You were living in the moment in a way you never had before, and it was completely freeing. With no fear, you weren't thinking in terms of consequences.

When you had a thought, you said it. When you had an impulse, you acted on it.

You were probably going to want to move to another planet when the chemicals wore off.

Because, as Clint, Nat, and Bucky had discovered today and tried to help you keep secret, you had an all-consuming crush on Steve Rogers. Any number of your thoughts were sappily sweet and made Clint gag. A lot of the others were filthy to the point of pornographic and made Bucky think that he’d be happy to comfort you if Steve decided to be stupid.

Nat had already known that you were in love with Steve. Duh. She hadn’t known how creatively obscene your imagination was, but she hadn’t really wanted to, either.

You were scanning Steve’s books while he texted Bucky for help. He needed to feed you before you got it into your head to go looking for sustenance. In the short time he’d been responsible for you, he’d discovered why the others had looked so frazzled. The only way to stop you from doing anything was to physically restrain you. Steve was trying to avoid that as long as you remained clothed in only a t-shirt and underwear.

You'd gone into this strange mode when he'd asked what you wanted to eat, blank and detached. Knowing Bucky would be happy to fetch the food if he didn't have to supervise you anymore, Steve had sent him out for whatever was fastest.

You’d shrugged in response to questions as to what kind of food you wanted and wandered off to stare out the window for several minutes before you moved on to his bookshelf. Steve really wanted to get you seated. Maybe then he could get you covered before you caught him staring at your legs (not to mention your ass).

"Do you want to watch TV while we wait for food?"

You didn't look at him, in one of those phases where the world seemed far too distant to matter. Steve could be staring openly, and you probably wouldn't notice, let alone give a shit. You were intent on Steve's books, looking for something, anything, that could inspire some feeling. It was odd to not have an opinion on anything. "I don’t care."

"Is everything okay?" Steve stepped up next to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to draw your attention to him. To his surprise, you didn’t look at him, but your body seemed to automatically sway towards his touch.

You murmured a response but closed your eyes at the warmth of Steve's hand on your arm. "Mm-hmm." The sound of your voice was a purr on the assent. You were feeling now, and it was irresistible.

You had an impulse, so you acted on it.

With another purr, you turned into Steve, sliding your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. You breathed in his scent, glorying in the smell of citrus, leather, and pine. Whatever cologne or deodorant he used, you were a huge fan. You rubbed your face back and forth, reveling in the feel against your cheeks of soft cotton over firm muscle.

Steve was absolutely astonished to find you twined around him like a vine. Of all the things he expected, your body wrapping around his before he had a chance to process it was not one of them. His arms came around you automatically, without his conscious thought, but as soon as he had you wrapped close and murmuring happily he wasn't going to let go. Though you and he were close friends, you'd always maintained a careful physical distance between you. He laughed a little when he heard what you were almost cooing.

"I knew it." You hummed and snuggled closer. "I knew it'd be like heaven in a bear hug. My good, kind, pretty Steve." You sighed the last, utterly enraptured by the glory of being held by Steve for the first time. You'd dreamed more than once of what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms, bathing in the scent, the heat of his skin. You'd never thought to find out, too sure you'd only make him uncomfortable should you try to change the dynamic of your friendship.

Unwilling to risk losing the most vital relationship you had, you'd been meticulous in your efforts to make sure Steve always knew that you valued him without ever giving any indication that you were half-in-love and all-the-way-in-lust with him. Until today, you'd been mostly successful.

Steve was doing everything he could to remind himself that you were under the influence of chemicals that had changed your brain activity. Nothing you said or did could be taken at face value, no matter how he wanted to believe that you felt about him the same way he felt about you.

He felt guilty, but he couldn't stop himself from reveling in your changed demeanor. No matter how he scolded himself, he didn't try to stop you from snuggling closer. Rather, his arms tightened, and his head dipped to press his lips against your hair. "Y/N?" You didn't answer, too busy melting in the heat from Steve's body, the pure pleasure of it distracting you completely.

"Sweetheart?" he tried again, this time prompting a hum of acknowledgement even as your hands slid slowly up the muscles of his back. "Why are you being so affectionate?"

To his surprise, you answered immediately, and it sounded as though you were speaking the plain and unvarnished truth. "I always want to," you sighed, and turned your face into his neck to brush your lips across the skin of his throat. "I don't because I'm afraid, but I adore you. I want to show you all the time."

Steve was astonished. He'd had no idea. You'd never, by word or by deed, indicated that you wanted anything more than friendship from him. He was sure he would have noticed, too aware of everything about you to have missed any signal. He had to wonder if he was misinterpreting your answer. "What are you afraid of?"

"Oh, you know," you sounded vaguely amused, but largely unconcerned. "Rejection, humiliation, heartbreak, failure. The usual." You started moving gently against him, brushing your body against his, your mind almost blank but for the pleasure of Steve's scent fogging your brain, his warmth melting your bones.

Steve couldn't speak for a moment, not expecting the purely carnal rush your undulating body would inspire inside him. His fingers dug into the skin of your back reflexively in response before he made himself loosen his hold. "But you're not afraid now." It was a statement, a reminder to himself that you had taken a face full of chemicals that left you vulnerable. He was taking advantage of that by asking you these questions right now.

Your voice was a sultry whisper as you slipped your arms around Steve's neck, sliding your hands into his hair. "As a matter of fact, I'm not." The next thing he knew, you were using your leverage to pull your lips to his and he was sinking into the heaven of your kiss.

He'd dreamed, fantasized a thousand times about how your lips would feel against his, how your mouth would taste. Now that he had an answer, he realized how limited those questions had been. He could write sonnets to the softness of your lips, the spice of your mouth. But he also hadn't considered the sweetness of your sighs as he tasted your breath, or the velvet of your tongue as it pressed against his.

Steve's conscience cleared its throat. "Okay," he said, breaking the kiss and panting. "Okay, this is…" He trailed off as, denied his mouth, you opted for the salt of his skin and fastened your teeth around his throat. You weren't thinking any more, awash in sensation, giving in to the desire that coursed through you.

"Wonderful…" he whispered, stretching his neck to give you better access. It almost hurt to restrain his hands from wandering down to close around your ass. He wanted you like air. "But we have to stop…" He was groaning the words as he reached up to pull your hands from around his neck. He stepped back, the temptation of your eyes heavy-lidded with desire and lips swollen from his kiss almost too much.

"Why?" You pouted and stepped forward to bring your body against his once more. His belly tightened with lust.

The pout on your mouth, coupled with the undulation of your body against his broke his will, if only for a moment. Steve gave into temptation and leaned forward to close his teeth around your lower lip. You hummed happily and sank back into the kiss. Lost in the moment, lost in him, you gave yourself up to it, overjoyed to discover that Steve wanted you, too.

Steve's conscience was getting impatient. He lifted his hand to your cheek and drew his mouth away. Putting his forehead against yours, he gasped for breath. "Because…" He trailed off again when you slid your hand under the hem of his shirt and gently brushed your fingertips along the skin of his hip. You giggled, happy that you could so easily distract him.

Steve shuddered out a breath and resisted the urge to take your mouth again. He tried again. "Because…" He didn't get far before you were twining around him once more, running your hands over his back under his shirt.

Steve was genuinely grateful to hear the knock at the door. He was having a very hard time resisting you. You seemed perfectly lucid, making it hard for him to remember that you were not thinking clearly. Almost desperately, he tried to gently extricate himself from your silken limbs. "Because Bucky's here with food."

"I don't want food." As you spoke, Bucky walked in carrying a couple of pizza boxes. You didn't acknowledge him, too lost in Steve. You stepped forward once more, this time to snuggle against him. "I want you." Your eyes were liquid and soft as you looked at Steve. He froze, caught in the expression on your face. He ached to ask you what that expression meant, but held himself back, knowing it wasn't fair.

Bucky laughed as he dropped the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch. His eyes crinkled in delighted humor, he chuckled immoderately and called out as he turned to leave, "Good luck with that, punk!" He couldn't wait to tell Sam about this.

Not thinking, Steve wrapped his arms back around you. He couldn't seem to stop himself. "You could help, jerk!"

Your voice was muffled, but the amusement came through loud and clear. "I didn't think threesomes would be your thing, Steve, but I'm willing to hear your thoughts on the subject."

Bucky laughed again, his enhanced hearing easily catching your words. He turned around, shrugging amiably. "If that's the kind of help you need--"

Steve simply raised a brow. "Thank you, Buck. Good-bye now."

Bucky's cheek lifted in a cocky half-smile and he shrugged again, this time philosophically and turned back to the door. "Let me know if she changes your mind," he called out as he made his exit.

Steve rubbed his big, warm palm up and down your spine, making you feel like you were melting again. "Will you come sit with me, sweetheart?"

The endearment made your heart beat fast and your throat close. In the next moment, you'd switched off. Docile and apathetic, you didn't resist or protest when Steve guided you to the couch. You ate when he handed you a slice of pizza, but you did so because you were hungry, not because you took any pleasure in the act. Steve put on the television for noise, not really paying attention to what was playing, and sat quietly next to you, eating pizza and watching you stare into space.

"You've gone away again, haven't you?" Steve found it fascinating to watch you turn on and off. When you were in this detached mode, he could see where you went when you were working. Coldly logical to the point of indifference when in the lab, he'd been astonished the first time he'd spent time with you outside of work and had found the warm woman he'd come to adore underneath.

"Mm-hmm." You murmured the assent as you had your mouth full of pizza. You were on your second piece, but you could feel yourself getting full. Since nothing but hunger kept you going, your movements automatically slowed. You were staring at the television, but you weren't really seeing it. It was a Friends rerun. Even if you hadn't seen it, which you probably had, you weren't in a headspace where you could begin to give a shit about it.

Steve frowned at the blank expression on your face, starting to get concerned by your demeanor. "Sweetheart," he said softly, and the endearment caught your attention in a way nothing else had, "do you feel okay?"

"I don't feel anything," you replied easily as you polished off your pizza.

Steve found it deeply unsettling to hear you say something so disturbing in such an offhand tone, but it was the emotionless gaze you turned on him that actually chilled him. He hadn't realized how warm your eyes normally were when they met his until they weren't anymore. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

The heat of his hand as it pressed against your face and neck, the feel of his fingers tangling in your hair, seemed to flip that switch inside your brain. Your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, but not before Steve saw them begin to warm and glow. In the next moment, you were climbing into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your face into his throat.

Steve saw his chance and snagged the blanket behind him across the back of the couch. He threw it over you, then wrapped his arms tightly around you, partly to keep you close, partly to keep you covered. You sighed happily and snuggled deeper into his chest, snuffling at his neck like a puppy and making him laugh.

"I love how you smell," you whispered, the longing in your voice bringing an ache to Steve's throat.

He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the desire that coursed through him at the feel of your breath on his skin. "We're going to have some interesting conversations in the near future."

Your mouth was against his skin as you replied, and you could feel the shudder of arousal that worked through him at the sensation. "About what?"

Steve took a trembling breath, trying and failing to put the feel of your lips against his skin out of his mind. "About us," he murmured, his voice low with barely restrained need.

"I like the sound of that." Steve could hear the smile in your voice and knew that if he could see your face, you'd be wearing his favorite soft expression. His arms tightened around you in pure affection. "You know," you went on, sounding even happier, "nothing has made me feel better all day. Except you."

"I feel that way about you all the time." The words were out of Steve's mouth before he thought better of them. He held his breath, waiting for your response.

You sighed, both sweet and melancholy. "If I let myself, I could fall hard for you, Steve." You laughed a little. "Hell, I'm already crazy about you. You're the best person I've ever known." As you spoke, your voice got drowsier and more slurred, until you went completely limp against him.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" were the last words you heard before you fell asleep like a toddler, completely and seemingly instantaneously.

You woke slowly, warm and comfortable, contented in a way you couldn't remember ever experiencing before. You were cradled in arms, against a wall of a chest, that was both solid and gentle. The warmth from his body had settled into your bones, leaving you pliant and relaxed. He seemed to be sleeping, too, and for some reason that charmed you more than anything else. Steve had fallen asleep while holding you. Heart eyes, motherfucker.

That said, now that you were awake, and as far as you could tell, clear-headed, you were also completely, utterly, and catastrophically humiliated. You had broadcast your deepest darkest secret to two of the worst possible people. (Natasha didn't count; she already knew. Honestly, you'd have been surprised if she hadn't.)

You had ended up parading around half-naked and all because of some random impulse you'd had and a weirdly stubborn insistence on following through. They had had to restrain you, and to be fair, they'd been right to do so. You had not been in any condition to do anything but sit down until the drugs wore off.

To top it all off, you'd thrown yourself at Steve with no shame. You'd told him how you felt with no filters. And you'd offered yourself to him with no conditions. He had graciously declined, albeit with good reason, but part of you resented how easily, it seemed, he resisted.

You wondered if you could sneak off his lap and back to the medical wing to check your brain without waking Steve. You knew you'd have to deal with what happened earlier, but you kind of wanted a minute to yourself to take stock before you had to face him.

"Captain Ro--"

You hissed at the sound of FRIDAY's voice coming over the intercom. "FRIDAY, shut up!"

"I apologize, Ms. Y/L/N, Dr. Banner is trying to reach Captain Rogers." FRIDAY spoke more quietly, but you were watching the corners of Steve's mouth twitching and knew it was too late. You weren't getting out of here.

Steve opened his pretty blue eyes, the sear of them burning into yours. "It's okay, FRIDAY. Will you tell Dr. Banner that if he's checking on Y/N, I’d like to bring her down so he can examine her, if he wouldn't mind."

"Yes, sir."

You cleared your throat sternly, a sneer curling your lip. "Excuse you, bossy."

Steve's smile widened into a delighted grin. "There you are," he said, affectionately. "How do you feel?"

Deciding there was no reason to lie now, you went with the truth, letting it ride. "Humiliated."

"Why?" he asked, his smile, his eyes softening.

Your expression twisted into a wry half-smile. "My memory was in no way affected by the chemicals I inadvertently ingested, Steve." You lifted a brow but kept that wry smile. "I'm fully aware of and embarrassed by my behavior."

His smile turned sad. It was all you could do to not lean in and kiss the sadness away. "Does that mean you didn't mean any of it? It was just the chemicals?"

Steve was struck by that same soft and liquid look you'd given him earlier. Your voice a rasp, you answered. "No. It wasn't just the chemicals." Now he saw sadness come into your eyes and it was all he could to do to not lean in and kiss the sadness away. "Unless you need everything to go back to the way it was." You scoffed out a little laugh, then spoke as if by rote. "Then no, I didn't mean any of it. It was just the chemicals."

Steve's eyes warmed once more. He gave into temptation, leaning in to nuzzle his mouth and nose against yours. "Some chemicals," he murmured. "You told me you were crazy about me, that you adored me."

You slid your arms around Steve's neck, snuggling closer. "Did I? Huh." You nipped at his lower lip, your lips curving in a sultry half-smile this time. "And what did you say back?"

"I didn't." Steve's expression turned serious, and you could feel the tension in the shoulders beneath your hands. "Too afraid you didn't mean any of it, that it was just the chemicals."

You turned serious in return. Steve was the sort who needed to know where he stood. You could respect that. "I’m not going to lie to you unless you ask it," you warned, giving him one last out from changing things between you forever.

"I always want the truth," he replied, "no matter what."

You searched his face for a long moment, needing to be sure before you laid your heart bare. Seeing everything you wanted in front of you if you only had the courage to reach out and take it, you opened your mouth without the slightest clue what was about to come out. "The chemicals removed my ability to keep my feelings to myself. The feelings themselves were always mine."

When the smile broke over Steve's face like dawn, you were so grateful to whatever part of your brain decided to go with the truth.

"So am I." Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, the kiss both firm and soft, conveying both desire and affection. "Yours, I mean," he said when you came up for air, apparently worried that he needed to clarify. You giggled, then once more used your leverage from your hands in all that thick blond hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

Running your tongue over his bottom lip, you immediately took advantage when his lips parted in response. Your tongue slipped inside his mouth to draw his out to tangle with yours. With a moan in his throat, he gave in to both the allure of the kiss and you, his hot hands coming up to cup your face, tilting your head for a better angle.

When you broke apart to breathe, you attacked his throat with lips and tongue and teeth, desperate for more of him. "Okay," he panted, his hands gripping your shoulders, but pulling you closer rather than pulling you away as he had intended. "First, you need pants." Steve stopped to groan a little in his throat, trying to make himself stop you from what you were doing, specifically, sucking on his earlobe. He didn't know why it was driving him crazy, but he was hard as a rock and trying to think straight.

"Second, brain scan." You giggled again and buried your face in his neck, thoroughly enchanted by the almost pained groan in his tone in response to the feel of your mouth on his skin. You also couldn’t help but be impressed by his ability to focus despite your determined efforts to distract him. “By the way,” he continued, “I never did find out why you took your pants off in the first place.”

You were grateful your face was hidden in his throat. You were snickering as you answered but part of that was helpless embarrassment. If only you had the fuzziness liquor can bring to memories, but no, your memory was crystal clear. “They got torn off when Bucky was trying to restrain me without hurting me.”

“Jeez,” Steve dipped his head in an attempt to see your face. He loved how you looked alight with laughter. 'How big of a pain in the ass were you?" His voice was a teasing smile and coaxed you into tilting your head back to grin at him.

"Oh," you said, considering, "a stunningly large pain in the ass." Though Steve had said he wanted to get you pants and your brain scanned, he didn't seem to be in any hurry to move. You snuggled further into his chest, content to stay there as long as he'd hold you. "I wanted Clint to teach me how to shoot his bow and I was being very insistent."

Steve burst out laughing. He could see why they'd restrained you. He wouldn't have put a weapon in your hand under those circumstances, either. However, he hadn't noticed a need to be that forceful with you. "You weren't that bad with me."

You slid your arms around Steve's neck and pulled yourself face-to-face with him once more, your expression warm and inviting. "They didn't have your secret weapon for distracting me."

"What's that?" Steve wasn't quite sure why, but something about the look on your face had his heart racing. He was starting to think that he was in over his head.

You leaned forward to brush your mouth gently against his. "They weren't Steve Rogers." You spoke against his mouth, then sank back into the joy that was Steve's kiss. He moaned a little and sank along with you. You kept your eyes open long enough to see his eyes flutter closed in pleasure and the sight had your heart stumbling over how unbelievably sweet he was.

You had kicked the blanket off and turned to straddle him before Steve remembered himself. His hands were on your hips and he was being happily eaten alive by the fire of you. He hadn't known you were capable of burning so hot, but he was nevertheless unsurprised. One of the thousand reasons he adored you was your hidden depths of passion.

Steve stood, suddenly, and for a brief, giddy moment, you thought he was going to finally take you to bed. Instead, he pulled his mouth from yours to grit out the words, "Pants. Brain scan. Then this… conversation."

Determined now, Steve took long strides toward the door, still holding you by your thighs wrapped around his waist. Wiggling a bit to indicate you'd rather walk, you lifted an amused brow. "Need to make sure I'm of sound mind?"

Steve stopped and rearranged his hold on you so that he was supporting your torso until your feet were under you. Once you were standing firm in front of him, he took your chin in his hand and leaned in for a quick, but scorching kiss. "For what I want to do to you? Yes."

You gaped at him, but the lust that shivered through you was also written all over your face. Steve's smile turned smug when you exclaimed, your excitement plain, "Captain!" You slipped your hand in his and pulled him toward the door and the lab. Your smile sultry to match his smug, you purred, "I'm intrigued."

... Only Happy Accidents here

Permanent Taglist:

@hellzzzbelle @suz-123 @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @rishlo @diinofayce @bibliophile1773 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @miraclesoflove

[adistantstarblog]

Hey, Tumbleweed 😆 "FanFic Ask Game" questions coming at you from the Windy City... F and W, please. Thank you 😊

Hey, Snowball! So. Sorry it took a bit for me to answer this. But! I’ve done a bit of digging because the minute I read this two answers for question F from the fanfic ask game immediately came to mind. Annnd, I couldn’t decide so I decided on both. 

The first would have to be this:

“It itches, Clarke.” Lexa glared back at her, she scratched at her legs a second more and stopped, “I think it was the soap.”

“Maybe,” Clarke answered as she started the next braid, “some chemicals can cause irritation but I used the same soap. I think it’s your skin cells proliferating.”

Lexa had lifted a hand to scratch at her arm but she stopped short, “my skin cells are doing what?” she looked quickly toward Clarke.

Clarke might have laughed at the uncertain look on Lexa’s face but she knew for Lexa the question was serious, “proliferating,” she answered, “rapidly increasing in numbers.”

“Oh.” Lexa answered, she turned back around and started scratching at her arms again.

Out of the corner of her eye Clarke saw red claw marks rising on Lexa’s arms. She stopped braiding and grabbed Lexa’s hand, “and if you don’t stop scratching they will have to start all over again!”

Lexa dropped her arms and glared back at her. She pulled in several deep breaths and grew still. Clarke glanced at her and smiled despite herself. The mighty Heda was pouting. Well, scowling was probably much more accurate. It didn’t matter which. Because at least she had stopped scratching, “thank you.” Clarke said, and turned her attention back to braiding. She tied that one off, and moved it into place, cut the ends of the tie and had barely started another when out of the corner of her eye she saw Lexa scratching at her wrists again. Clarke inhaled under her breath but for now kept braiding, “Lexa?” she asked.

“Sha?”

“You know those gloves you have?” Clarke asked, “the cute little skeleton ones without the fingers?”

“That’s not what they are called,” Lexa answered slowly, as though cautious as if she were trying to understand where Clarke might be going with this. She also slid an eye back to Clarke and said, “and they’re not cute.”

Clarke tied the end of the braid and moved it into it’s place, “oh they’re freakin’ adorable.” She cut the ends of the tie off.

“They are not.”

“Oh yes they are.” Clarke replied. Just for good measure since they were on Lexa’s choice of fashion statements she leaned in and flicked a finger at the cuff of Lexa’s robe, “and so are these little ruffles.”

Lexa looked at her wrists quickly and then turned fully to Clarke, “they are not adorable.”

“They so are.” Clarke argued, turning Lexa’s head around for her she started combing out strands for the next braid, “but anyway, that’s not the point. The point is if you don’t stop scratching I will find you some gloves that do have fingers.” Clarke started the braid. In front of her, Lexa was silent as though she was trying to find a smart reaction to that. At last she heaved a sigh and folded her arms, “that’s foolish, Clarke.”

“So is ripping up your skin.”

”Clarke-“

“Skin that I just healed??” Clarke emphasized.

“Fine.” Lexa relented, folding her arms she rolled her eyes, “but if my skin is proliferating this badly you will rub me down with the oil later.”

This came from Chapter 31 of All Blood is Red. This is my first fic ever, its older, canon and massive and available on ao3. I started writing this fic before season 3 aired, and was writing it during season three. It is also a few chapters shy of its ending. Though I promise, I’ve not given up on it. I love this fic, it is just very difficult for me to write. And I want to give it the best I can and not just throw an end on it to call it finished. 

But, to answer the actual question 😆 I think what I like about this one is that it was it sort of wrote itself, it was very free form and Clexa sort of wrote it themselves. I like that Lexa actually ‘ordered’ Clarke into putting the oil on her back later as a reaction to not having much else to say. It was almost domestic in troubled times for them. A close runner up for them in this fic, would be the times they argued with each other. And there were a couple. I can’t get into much without spoilers though.

The second one that came to mind was actually this:

“Lexa, we are lost!” Anya insisted and snorted in dry amusement, “two international officers, lost on the savanna. Perfect. There might be a case to find us next. There might-” Anya had to slam on the brakes mid-rant as a herd of deer like animals with long black horns shot out in front of the jeep, kicking out more clouds of dust and snorting. Lexa had no idea what they were, but she was startled by them and scrambled back in her seat for a second before she found herself staring in awe at the stampeding herd, “they’re amazing!” she scrambled to her feet and hung her arms over the jeep windshield to get a better look.

“Fuck…!” coughing her lungs out next to her, Anya suddenly yelped. Lexa felt her grab her by the waist of her pants and yank her hard back down into the seat. Lexa landed with a surprised plop while Anya shouted at her, “sit down! God Lexa…” more coughing, “do you want to be impaled! Look at the horns on those god-damned things! They would skewer you in an instant!”

“I am! I am!” Lexa insisted. She got back up in the seat again and leaned over the windshield much to her sister’s displeasure. But she didn’t care. Her mouth dropped open slightly in awe as she watched the rest of the heard storm past and though they were running away from something.  She had to find someone to tell her what they were. Maybe Clarke could? She grinned thinking of Clarke again and this time she would have something to talk about with her. Maybe she would find her at the diner again for dinner, or maybe if she went there again in the morning. Or maybe if she got a room from Niylah like Clarke suggested..

“Will you sit down?” Anya grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the seat again.

Lexa glared at her, “easy, Anya!” Her sister could be a pain sometimes. Especially when frustrated.

“Just...get the map,” Anya grumped, starting the jeep forward slowly again after the herd passed. So slowly in fact that Lexa was sure a turtle could beat them if it tried.

“We are not lost,” she insisted.  Near noon, they had come across the fresh tracks that led off the road and into nowhere. To be fair, it could be anyone. But it was a start. And if it wasn’t their poachers then maybe whoever it was could give them some direction in more ways than one..

“Okay,” Lexa muttered to herself with that thought. So maybe they were a little lost.

This is from a fic called ‘Here Comes a Lion’ and its currently ongoing on my Patreon, originating as  a prompt submission, Clarke being a vet that specializes in Big Cats and Lexa being with Interpol to come investigate people who’ve been poaching them.  Of course, Clarke has decided to take matters into their own hands and Clexa inevitably meet up.  I think I like this part because it shows that no, Lexa and Anya don’t always know everything, and can be quite out of place in some places ...such as the African savanna. 😆

Now, as for question W - what kind of prompts? Honestly, I like both about the same. I like when people add details to the prompts, because it gives me a framework to build from. But at the same time, a general, ‘hey can you do a coffee shop fic’ prompt for example is good too because then I can pretty much write it free form. Both kinds of prompts are fun for different reasons. 

Thanks for the asks!  It was alot of fun, even the digging was! I can’t believe how much I miss All Blood is Red! Here is a link to the fan fic ask game. Have fun out there. 

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

Chance Meeting Chapter Five

Reader and turtles

Donnie bent down and pulled the manhole cover open revealing the ladder down into the sewer. With wide eyes you looked at him then to Leo who was still giving you that adorable crooked smile. They were going to show you were they lived?

“No bag over the head this time fellas?”

Leo shook his head ushering you towards the open hole in the ground with his hand on the small of your back, “Nope, you passed the test.”

“Test?” you asked following Donnie down the manhole slowly.

“You went to the police station to give your statement and said nothing about us. You kept our secret, didn’t even talk to Rebecca about us either. So, we figured we could give you something in return.” You heard Leo call from above.

Donnie helped you from the ladder and with a heavy thud Leo jumped from the street to the bottom on the opening in a single leap. He landed before you in a crouch then stood to his full height never taking his eyes from you. Hot, did it feel hot down here?  

His large hands moved to your shoulders and you swayed a bit in his grasp. His blue molten gaze almost took the breath from your body and your knees nearly buckled under your weight. This was unfair, did he have any idea what he was doing to you?

“Turn around and follow the bouncing Donnie.” he clucked smoothly turning you with his hands. Allowing the large mutant to move you, you saw Donnie already several feet from you heading down the tunnel. Willing your lead feet to move you quickly caught up to the tall purple turtle and you could instantly feel Leo’s presences just behind you. They were quick.

A 10 minute walk later you were entering into their home, you could see Mikey and Raph playing video games on their TV and Splinter watching from the kitchen table a steaming cup of tea in his furry hands. You watched the old rat for a few moments, his small hands turning the fragile tea cup with the pads of his fingers. His dark eyes focused in on the two turtles laughing and nudging each other as they fought to win. A faint smile pulled at his long snout making your feel warm at the adoration of his sons. Seeing that put to rest the final pulls of uneasiness in the back of your mind.

“We’re back with our little flower.” You heard Leo chuckle behind you. “Little flower?” you mouthed silently turning around to give him a look of disapproval. A pet name really?

Leo could see your dissatisfaction with the pet name he had just given you and clicked his tongue in the back of his mouth in amusement. He was having fun pressing your buttons, it was a good way to get to know someone. How much poking and prodding could you handle before your let him have it? Would you enjoy the fun he was having, and could you give it right back? The little display on the surface was an indication you were enjoying it. The gentle brush against him avoiding him completely going straight for his brother was a bold move. He hadn’t expected it and was surprisingly disappointed you didn’t greet him with the same enthusiasm. Well played.

He found himself craving physical contact with you, anyway to get your scent on him without looking like a creep, he just had to figure out how to make it happen.

You made your way over to the couch that held the two brothers in orange and red. They were playing a video game you have never seen before and the scowl on Raphael’s face indicated he was not winning. Sitting down on the arm of the couch you watched them battle it out. Out of the corner of you eye you saw Leo move around you and lean down resting his elbows on the back of the couch between his two brothers.  

“We have a guest guys, turn the game off and interact.” Leo used a deeper tone for his brothers when he was giving orders. Deeper and a little more powerful, it didn’t help the situation between your legs and you swallowed dryly. You watched him stand back up, the muscles in his arms stretching beneath his green skin and walk towards the kitchen to see his father. It was difficult not to stare at his ass as he took the short set of stairs up into the kitchen.

“Yeah yeah fearless we’re almost done, I’m catching up to him.” Raphael growled keeping his eyes on the screen his fingers moving over the controls in a blur.

“Now you two, I told you when Donnie and I left that we’d be back in 30 minutes with her. You’re being rude.” Leo snapped again turning to face his brothers again. You watched Donnie come up behind splinter resting one hand on his father’s shoulder a fresh cup of coffee in the other.

“Ahh she doesn’t mind.” Mikey quickly looked at you with his sparkling eyes and then back to the Tv screen making sure not to lose his place.

In truth you didn’t mind, you still had no idea what you were going to talk about. So, with them distracted you could settle your distracted mind and figure out some questions.  

If your senses weren’t running on over drive you wouldn’t have heard the whizzing of the quarter that Leo threw. With precision it connected with the gaming systems power button turning the game off ending their match earning Leo a few choice obscenities from the two angry brothers.

Blinking in disbelief you marveled at the accuracy of Leonardo’s throw. That button was tiny and across the room and he hit it with a fucking quarter. That itself solidified the whole “ninja” claim, he was good. That was an impossible throw without years of training. You wondered if they were all as good as Leo? Which opened up the line of questions you wanted to ask.  

After Raph and Mikey whined to Leo about ending their game abruptly Master Splinter raised his palm silencing the two squawking turtles. The look Raph shot Leo was deadly and you figured their relationship was a bit rocky. You would hate to see them duke it out, there wouldn’t be anything left to this place.

“My dear.” Th soft voice of Splinter broke through your thoughts. You looked up to him motioning you forward to the kitchen. Getting up from the couch you crossed in front of Mikey and Raph their eyes on you the entire time and soon followed you up to the kitchen table where you sat near the old rat.

“My sons have told me you kept out secret and I am grateful for that. They are everything to me and wouldn’t know what I would do if anything happened to them.” You saw Donnie’s hand squeeze his father’s shoulder a bit at the declaration. Splinter continued after resting his hand on his sons. “As you can see we don’t have many friends. Many people wouldn’t accept us with our appearances alone. But we do have a select group; a new reporter, a detective, a camera man and the Chief of police. There are a few police officers that know of our existence but do not know our location. So, we need to be careful who we let into our lives and you my dear have proven yourself. You risked your life for another a stranger at that. You didn’t shun my sons or I after being exposed to us and kept our secret to yourself. We’d like to offer you a glimpse into our lives, do you have any questions for us?”

All of a sudden, all eyes were on you making you feel very hot and anxious. All the questions you had floating in your head were gone along with your stupid voice. You opened your mouth and closed it again when words refused to form.  “Talk.” You scolded yourself twisting your sleeve in your fingers. They were looking at you, Leo was looking at you, the playfulness gone in his eyes replaced with a stoic stare his lips parted slightly. His tongue darted out wetting his lips which made your throat dry, you needed water. Your eyes moved to the sink and Donnie noticed the frantic look in your eye.

“You want some water?” he mused moving from behind his father to the sink. His long arm grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured a generous glass and handed to your greedy hands.  Once the rim of the glass hit your lips you poured the water down your throat quenching the uncomfortable desert that had formed behind your tongue. Deep breaths, take deep breaths you reminded yourself setting the now empty glass on the counter with a clink. Your eyes returned to the four mutant turtles and their rat father. Swallowing again you licked your lips and made eye contact with Leo who looked suddenly uncomfortable. You could see him swallow and noticed he was looking at your now moist lips, again you darted your tongue out and he visibly flinched his fingers curling into his palms.

You were affecting him as well, good, the cocky bastard. With renewed confidence you remembered all the questions you had thought of and started out with the first one that came to mind. “What happened to you that made you the way you are today?” it was the most important question you could think of. From the beginning, you wanted to hear everything from the beginning.

Splinter took the lead and began their story from the start where they were injected with the mutagen in Sack’s lab. He left no detail out as he continued through their lives even the shredder and krang were brought up. Tt had been several years and they all were in their early twenties and had found a nice rhythm to their lives but craved more human interaction. They patrolled the city helping those in need, taking down gangs and all those that threatened the good people of New York. Splinter even let it slip that April O’Neil the reporter was their closest friend but was more like family if anything.

They were the reason you weren’t dead from that chemical Erik Sacks wanted to spread over the city years ago and they had stopped that alien invasion. You remembered that day the most. You had been nearly crushed to death by falling debris that had been broken off by a piece of the assembling ship. When it hit the side of the building you were under. You were trapped for almost a whole day beneath it luckily only encased and not crushed. You had sustained several cuts and bruises, but you were lucky to be alive, there were several people who weren’t so lucky.

They were heroes, you were looking at real living breathing super heroes. The world owed everything to these four and they would never know it. And that made you sad which must have conveyed in your expression.  

“Its ok really, we prefer the shadows.” Donnie smiled sitting down next to you.

“But you could be up there living normal…..well somewhat normal lives. You guys are heroes and are amazing and everyone should know it.” You had a hint of anger in your tone. This was unfair, they lived down in the sewers away from the light. Unable to enjoy the simple things you took for granted. Things like going grocery shopping or going out for a meal at a restaurant. They deserved that, they deserved to enjoy the finer things in life.

“We don’t want a normal life, we enjoy being hidden, helping when we can. Yeah, the sewer isn’t the greatest place to live but it’s unique and Donnie has given us all we could ever need down here. The genius even gave us a tricked out garbage truck.” Raph laughed.

In the back of your mind you knew the reason they stayed hidden, you knew the world just as much as they did. This world was cruel to those who were different, no matter the circumstances, no matter what they did. This way they were safe from prying eyes, from blog posts and tabloid newspapers. You would keep their secret to the day you died, and you would be there for them, Whether it was friendship or something more.

Chapter Four

@lunarkittythings

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Terror in the Sky

“Don’t you get it yet, Batman? You failed.”

Episode: 45 Robin: No Writer: Mark Saraceni (teleplay/story) and Steve Perry (story) Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Dong Yang Airdate: November 12, 1992 Grade: F

Ouch. Y’know, at least I’ve Got Batman in My Basement had fun stuff for the kiddies and an absolutely hilarious screwdriver duel. What does this episode have for anyone once they know the plot twist? I can’t think of a single thing. Not a single thing. Nothing stuck with me. Nothing is here that I care about seeing again. No killer lines. No great action scenes. Only a mildly good twist, and, well, it does have the incredibly cute scene from the She-Bat eating the fruit at the beginning, but really, this episode’s crime is just being flat out boring. I might even call it my least favorite episode so far. As if all this weren’t enough, this is the third episode within the last four to predominantly feature a human transforming into some type of creature-person hybrid. It doesn’t start off at the zoo again, thank the lord, but why this theme again? Twice that close together was pushing it. Yeah, seeing Langstrom a few episodes ago helps, it gives us a sense of continuity and story-ark, but I wanna see some other things from the world of Batman. I really like Man-Bat too, and a return sounds amazing on paper. Yet, while watching, I found myself looking at the time. What went so wrong?

Like I said, that fruit-eating bit was adorable. I really hope there’s a gif of that somewhere. After that, we see She-Bat going back to Langstrom’s house, and Langstrom jolts awake. Everything seems normal, and we are tricked into thinking that it was all a bad dream. Unfortunately, Langstrom gets up and finds scratches and fruit-splatter all over a throw-rug. This leads him to believe that he is turning back into the Man-Bat creature at night, and he simply doesn't remember it. But here’s what I wanna know. Why do they never notice his wife’s torn-up clothes? Does she never wake up to realize that all she’s wearing is tatters? This never sets off any red flags for either of them? That’s a bit of a plot-hole if I do say so myself. Also, his wife in this scene is wearing a shirt, which the bat-creature clearly was lacking. I know they had to fool us somehow, and they can’t show nekkid boobies on the show, but they coulda kept her covered up. I also thought it was pretty cold how she told Langstrom to just go back to sleep. Wow, how comforting.

When you walk through the house at night and you step in animal-piss.

Batman hears about the bat-creature, and pays Langstrom a visit in his laboratory. At the same time, his wife discovers the torn-up rug, and realizes what is apparently happening. So they both get pissed at him, and his wife threatens to leave him, which I understand, considering they both think that he’s screwing around with the Man-Bat formula again. Langstrom tells Batman, though, that he hasn’t messed with it at all, and that Batman’s antidote must have been a failure. In general he acts pretty unappreciative toward Batman. And I know that he’s stressed and likely feels like he’s being targeted, but he fails to remember that without Batman’s help, he’d be in a lot worse shape, likely contained. Batman saved your ass, and even if the antidote didn’t quite get you to a normal life, it at least did something. So, to prove that Langstrom isn’t messing with the formula, and that he’s changing involuntarily, Batman takes a DNA test. Planning on comparing it to the bat-creature, okay, but you’re 99.99% sure that it’s Langstrom with the wings. You want to make sure that he’s not doing it on purpose. Taking a DNA test would be to see who the creature is. From a writing perspective, I get it, but from Batman’s perspective, he shouldn’t need to do that. His logical conclusion should be to first, do some detective work, spying on Langstrom and his laboratory activities, and second, figure out why he’s changing again.

Batman runs into the bat-creature while outside on his motorcycle, and we get a fight which basically consists of Batman getting pelted with a garbage can a few times. Boyd Kirkland puts out some good stuff sometimes, but this directing is so boring! I swear, nothing interesting-looking ever happens  on screen in this entire episode! Remember On Leather Wings? Remember how dynamic some of those moments were? And to up the boringness a little more, it’s all snowy. Okay, cool change of environment. But when you do nothing with it, this leads to us looking at a lot of bland whites and grays, in addition to the brown of the bat.

After the two fight, there is a chase scene that you might as well fast-forward through, and it ends with, of course, Batman heading right toward a train on his motorcycle. Enough with the trains, it’s getting so cliché. Every time someone is on a train track in this show, just expect a train to inconveniently show up. Even Batman seems sick of it here. This is a scene where Batman is speeding through the snow and ice, being chased down by a giant bat that possibly wants to kill him. How about a more exciting way to end it? Luckily, though, the fight/chase allows Batman to pick up some hair from the creature, and he tests it, proving that Langstrom isn’t the bat. Of course, he now thinks that Dr March is the bat. At least that’s a logical conclusion. When Batman gives Langstrom the news, we learn that his wife has actually left him, and is boring a plane to some undisclosed location. Despite this, it’s really cool how he offers to help Batman catch the new Man-Bat. Batman says that he can handle it, though, so Langstrom heads off to find his wife and explain to her what is going on.

When Batman confronts Dr. March, Dr. March insists that he’s not responsible for the Man-Bat either, because he spilled the improved solution on the floor. But he remembers that his daughter (who is also Langstrom’s wife) helped him clean it up, and in the process, she cut her finger and exposed her blood to the solution. Girl, you’re in a laboratory working with chemicals. Wear gloves if you’re gonna clean up a mess that contains broken glass. Or wear gloves anyway! Duh! So it’s revealed that Francine is the new Man-Bat (or in this case, She-Bat), and it’s a twist that might surprise you your first watch, but it’s not gonna blow you away either. And as I said, once you know it, the episode is basically worthless. And you wouldn’t think so! Because now we shift to the airplane that Francine is on, and she mentions that she doesn’t feel so well. Great! We’re gonna get to see her transform into the bat and go berserk on a crowded plane, right? Well, kinda. After a terribly-animated transformation scene where she looks like one of Spielberg’s gremlins, she leaves the plane, creating a drop of cabin-pressure, and everyone is afraid that they’ll be sucked right out the door. Sounds exciting, but believe me, it’s not. It all feels so low-key considering the situation, and I have to point to Boyd Kirkland again. Dong Yang does no favors, though, because even though this is their episode, it 100% looks like Akom-work. Yeah. You see the problem. I really wish that instead of attempting a scene like this and failing, they would have tried another idea. This is one that I had. So, Langstrom is on the plane that his wife is supposed to be on. He saw her get on it. But when on the plane, he doesn’t see her. The episode would then call back to the Twilight Zone episode Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, and he’d see her outside on the wing. How she got there wouldn’t matter, and it would be a really fun moment. That's my way of how to improve the episode. By the way, after She-Bat escapes, Batman pulls up in his plane and rescues a woman from falling out with the Bat-Plane’s grabby arm. The whole thing is preposterous-looking, and I refuse to believe that, as a pilot, Batman has that much dexterity. Get outta here.

And then the rest of the episode is another chase sequence. Fun. Except this time it’s the Bat-Plane chasing She-Bat. I’m not someone who’s against the Bat-Plane or anything, I think that it has its uses. But, similar to the 1989 Batman, it can be so boring to watch. The chase feels like it goes on forever, and when it ends, Batman injects her with the antidote, and everything is right with the world. So with that, Batman takes off, leaving Kirk and Francine Langstrom up on a snowy, slippery bridge, doomed to freeze to death or fall. That basically sums it up. On the bright side, Char didn’t dislike the episode. She didn’t like it either, but I’m glad that I wasn’t insulting her time.

Get a load of this goofy shot.

“You’re on your own, guys.”

Char’s grade: C Next time: Almost Got’ im

Full episode list here!

[atypical60]

Far be it to not take advantage of Oona’s pre-wedding events to not make it about me. OK?

Remember.  It’s all about MOI!!!!

Anyway, last weekend I flew to Cincinnati for Oona’s Bridal Shower.  You saw a sneak peak at my last blog post but I’m gonna elaborate more on the weekend.

And boy was this a fantastic Bridal Brunch!!

As the Mother-of-the-Bride naturally.

Number 4 is the only one Oona has stressed.  I did that at her shower when we all introduced ourselves.  My sense of humor got the best of me as I introduced myself as “…..as Oona exited my Origin of the World…”  immediately, I was pulled aside and warned in a kind way to NOT say anything like that at the wedding.  (shhhh–don’t tell but I don’t follow rules!)

I took Friday off from work because I wanted a true three-day weekend.  That’s the thing about working in a low-level clerical position—you need permission to get a day off.  In my other places of employment, it was much easier to finagle time off as a freebie—trust me.   I also worked my schedule out to accommodate leaving early on Thursday afternoon so I could fly from Philly to Cincy and enjoy a few extra hours of fun time.

I also took Friday casual to Thursday!  I travel in comfort, but not like a slob! J. Crew and Gabor wigs assisted me!  Mother-of-the Bride travel attire!

It’s not how it started out though.

For some reason, either I hit horrific weather or I have a displeasure of a delayed flight whenever I travel.  I kid you not.  And about 45 minutes before we were to board the plane, an announcement was made that the flight to Cincinnati would be delayed.

Welcome to my jet-sit world.  I spend more time waiting than flying!  I have to say though, that Delta made every effort and boarded us very quickly when the plane arrived!

Besides having an inner hissy-fit, I dealt with this issue by stress eating not one pretzel, but an additional bucket of pretzel nuggets.  Fresh and hot off the press.  The carbs were murder on my gut but felt so good going down.  I also ate a giant bag of peanut M & M’s.  And read trashy magazines.

And an added surprise was that these nuggets of carbs were also drenched in greasy melted butter.  I wonder why the scale isn’t giving me nicer numbers!!

The plane finally arrived and this Mother-of-the-Bride landed after ten in the evening to rain!  I was two for two.  A delay and rain.  It was shocking that a snow storm hadn’t hit!

Cincinnati here I come…

To rain and a delayed flight….

Now…upon departing the flight, one would think I ran to the airport exit to see Oona and Sam.  No.  CVG is a GREAT airport.  It’s so clean and spacious so I couldn’t resist dawdling (now we know where my son, Roman, acquired the gift of dawdle…).  I came across a cosmetics vending machine!  But I didn’t buy anything!

Why couldn’t I find this at Philly airport during the delay?

Then I came across my favorite part of the airport!  Them bones!

Some stop to smell the roses.  I stop to take photos at airports of skeletal treasure!

But it was great to be back at Oona and Sam’s and playing around with my grand puppy, Gracie.

My boo, Gracie.  OMG. She’s so well-behaved..

Oona and Sam are such great doggie parents…I KNOW they will be fantastic human parents!

Friday brought sun and clouds and brisk weather but it didn’t matter.  There’s something comforting in knowing that your daughter and her future husband can brew a great cuppa coffee.  They make it strong—just the way I love it.  And we sat around gabbing before getting ready and heading out to run errands.

The Mr. Coffee is far better than the grandpa Mr. Coffee we have at home.

Even little Gracie was beggin’ for some!

Ahhhhhhhhh…cawfee!!!

Oona had a nail appointment, and since my nails were looking fine, I passed but kept her company while we discussed family and the wedding preparations.

This freakin’ nail salon!  It went on for days!  I was jealous–but then Oona told me the price of a mani-pedi and I was glad to be living in the Northeast where nail salons are plentiful….and far less expensive!

Next stop was Marshalls –Oona picked some workout clothing (I didn’t –I’m lazy).  And I headed for the cosmetics.  Glory be to Gawd—I found two great eyeshadow palettes!

#gallery-0-5 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 100%; } #gallery-0-5 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

More on these palettes for my next blog post but boy….at $7.99 each, these palettes were a steal!

We did some food shopping—Sam’s birthday was Friday and his family was coming over for dinner.  Oona looked pensive as she realized time was of the essence—she had to head back to the airport to pick up her best friend and maid-of-honor, Lauren.

Did I say food shopping? I sent this pic to Bonaparte to validate that Pennsylvania is the worst state in the USA because of the State-run, Mob-type Liquor stores!  You can by this at Trader Joes in Cincy!

And that’s where mom comes in—I assured her I could take care of the cake and she could head to the airport for alone time with her bestie!

BTW, this cake is gluten-free, chemical and preservative-free, sugar free, and lower-fat!  Oona added Sam’s favorite candy–Reeses Pieces which are NOT lower fat nor sugar free!  But it was a tasty Birthday cake!

Friday evening, Sam’s family came over for a birthday celebration. Being with Sam’s family is like being with……………. family!!  We all had a great time and I was introduced to a spectacular aperitif/cocktail:  The Aperol Spritz!  This concoction of Aperol, Prosecco, and Seltzer with a slice of orange is the most refreshing drink I’ve ever downed!

You read it first.  Moving forward, the Aperol Spritz will now be called “Mother-of-the-Bride”.   There will be an open bar at the wedding but I may smuggle my private makings!  There’s only 148 calories in one of these!

I drank a lot of them during the weekend.  In fact, as I write this now, I informed the Frenchman that I’ll be stopping at the store for Aperol, Prosecco and seltzer!  He is a bit upset that I am forgoing the beloved Kir Royal but the Aperol Spritz has less calories and with the wedding countdown, every calorie counts!

Saturday was a full day!

Let me tell you something.  Oona and Lauren spent a long time getting their hair perfectly coifed.  Lauren is great with styling and she styled Oona’s hair in perfect beach waves.

I plopped my Jamison wig on—and had extra time to loll around in bed! Oh, the beauty of wigs!

Jamison and Lilly Pulitzer.  You can’t go wrong!

The shower/bruncheon was at LouVino, a Southern-inspired restaurant and wine bar downtown Cincinnati.  What a great place!  The celebration was downstairs in a private room and Oona’s friends, coworkers, future sisters-in-law, mother-in-law and relatives were in attendance.

The upstairs wine bar at LouVino’s. I’m recommending this place to out-of-town guests for Oona’s wedding!

The downstairs room where the brunch was held…

Thanks to Sam’s sisters, the table settings were beautiful..

  Mimosas kept us refreshed and hydrated!

Oh yeah, and water (in the background) also kept us hydrated.  The food was so great that I never took a pic–I was too busy shoveling the Warm Brussels Salad into my mouth!

We played girlie games.  I won Scattergories.  But the best game was where Oona had to guess answers to questions that Sam answered in advance.  For ever wrong answer, a wad of bubble gum was placed in Oona’s mouth!  It was a riot!

It was only natural that I took myself out of the “Guess the Age” game.  I’m no cheater!

Miss Oona getting ready for more bubble gum!  She actually did a great job.  Out of 30 questions, she got 2/3’s correct!

The prize for the Scattergories win..a cute mug and a Starbucks card!!!!!!!!!!! 

Some of the gifts.  Crate & Barrel is very popular–eh???

Happy little wine glasses…

Happy little Oona!

The baking girl was thrilled to receive mixing bowls.  Did I mention I gifted her with a Stainless Kitchen Aid Mixer…just like mine?  I swear the baking is genetic!

This.  This was on Oona’s wish list and she was so happy to receive this!  (Hmmmm maybe she’ll give me her Mr. Coffee machine…)

BFF’s.  They’ve been friends since middle-school.  Two beauties!

This photo of us was taken after I was crying…

..and this is why.  Lauren, Oona’s BFF and Maid of Honor, gifted Sam’s mom and me with embroidered hankies.  Both moms were crying because it was just a touching and generous gift!   I’m crying again!

I was very happy to be in attendance.  Oona didn’t want a shower in Philly simply because she felt that asking my side of the family and her Northeast friends, was asking them to spend too much money—what with the travel to Ohio and the hotel, she wanted to keep expenses down for everyone.  You know—I was very proud of her decision.  I think I raised a very conscientious young woman!

  And the fact Sam’s family has welcomed Oona really made me feel warm and fuzzy inside!

May I present the future Mrs. Butts.  Coming from a very competitive family, it pleases me to have my daughter’s future last name be greatness such as this.  When/if they have children and their children are in competitive activities, they can hashtag:  #MyButtsgonnakickyours  or… #Buttsbekickin’

Some after-brunch fun.  Isn’t that dress adorable?  It’s a Lilly Pulitzer..and those shoes!  The daughter has great taste..and she’s gorgeous!

By the time we got back to the house, the rain came and it was time to head to Sam’s mom’s home for a casual, laid back and fun dinner!

And more Aperol Spritzes!

The recipe?  Three parts Prosecco, Two parts Aperol, One part (a splash) Seltzer and an orange slice to make it nice!

Sunday morning brought forth a bit of a hangover and the flight back to Philly.  Isn’t it funny how when you wish for a delay, the flight is on time?

Gracie was sad to see me go.  I was sad to see me go!

  Minimal dawdling on the return.  There was no delay.  WAIT!  Does that say Air France?  Yeah…but it’s the plane back to Philly…

And despite the timeliness of the flight home, I did manage to get this sweatshirt as a reminder of a great weekend!

I arrived back home Sunday afternoon.  When Bonaparte picked me up, I’m not too sure he was happy to see me because he kept mentioning how tired I looked.  He was right. I had a bad hangover    FOODover, because of all the food I ate.

Yeah. I pretty-much crashed when I arrived home.  Funny how I still think I’m in my twenties sometimes!

Do you ever get sad when you leave someplace and someone?  I was incredibly sad to leave but after I arrived home and unpacked and got to telling the Frenchman about the weekend, the sadness lifted and I felt really happy.  Happy that I was able to enjoy the weekend with my daughter and her future family! And happy to be back sitting next to my husband on the sofa!

And she’s the reason the weekend was a stellar one!  My baby is getting married!

More Mother-of-the-Bride Fun! Far be it to not take advantage of Oona’s pre-wedding events to not make it about me.

[wannabeagrunklefan]

Fic: Fire and Freedom

Pairing: Stancest Rating: PG-13 for language and some implied sexy times, I guess ^^; Author’s Notes: Circus AU! This was written for the Stancest Discord server’s  scavenger hunt. I just wanted to say a quick shout out to my very talented teammates for making this event so fun and for being so kind! You’re all brilliant and I was so inspired by your lovely writing and art! :D And a hearty thank you to my beta team @yehvaru and @reinstotheworld, who made this legible! I know you’re both really busy, so it really touched me that you made time to look over my story and give me some feedback and encouragement. You two are the absolute best and I adore you both to the moon and back! :D <3

The link to this fic on AO3 can be found here.

                “Little shit!”

                Carla sighed heavily, eyes rolled up to the ceiling as if seeking divine patience. “Stanley, don’t start-”

                “‘He’s cheating! He’s behind a curtain! ANYONE could have got him out! You think that’s a good trick?’” Her companion continued on with his tirade in a squeaky, off-key parody of what she assumed was meant to be a child, if the child in question sounded like a leaky bike tire.

                 A leaky bike tire with a serious chain smoking problem.

                “Seriously, kid?” He continued arguing with his imaginary, tiny antagonist, weaving haphazardly through the throng of performers backstage preparing for their acts to start. Carla heaved a frustrated breath as she attempted to keep up, neatly dodging some acrobats and coming dangerously close to Ms. Petunia’s prized, trained poodle, Rex, earning her a vicious glare from the older woman. “Anyone could have gotten me outta handcuffs and a locked tank of water in the middle of a giant, empty stage?? The entire point is that I escape on my own!”

                “To be fair, the tank’s not really sealed as tightly as it looks, though,” Carla couldn’t help but point out, trying to take the wind out of his sails before he made it clear across the Atlantic Ocean fueled on spite alone.

                It seemed to work slightly, as far as distractions went, as Stanley’s steps did slow somewhat. “I know that, and you know that, but that’s not the point,” he growled, punctuating the end of his sentence with a few vicious stabs in the air with a pointer finger. “My job is to create an illusion that inspires ‘wonder’ and ‘the inner child’, and that real child is being a real asshole!”

                “Yeah, I see what you mean,” Carla replied dryly. “What child wouldn’t experience a sense of wonder watching a happy-go-lucky guy like you answer their innocent question with a ‘Bite me, kid!’?”

                Her companion narrowed his eyes in a mockingly fierce glare and put indignant hands on his hips as his body relaxed into a more playful posture. Bull-headed as Stan was, at least he could concede the point when he was being ridiculous. In his own, silent way, of course. “Yanno what? You can bite me too, Carla.”

                “Been there, done that, sugar,” she replied, patting him lightly on the shoulder as he grinned. She wrinkled her nose for effect as she added, “never again.”

                He burst into laughter, resting a hand over his heart. “You break my heart, McCorkle! Just like you did that night when you left me fer some clown!”

                She immediately shoved him in frustration, forcing more laughter out of him. “NO! It wasn’t funny the first fifty-thousand times you made that joke, and it isn’t funny now! Ugh, I can’t deal with you when you’re like this. Where’s your brother? Why isn’t he suffering you like the rest of us? FORD!” She yelled at a nearby camper, their original destination (Stanley’s destination was always Stanford), and relished the violent tremor that ran through it as she had no doubt startled Ford out of a deep focus.

                One chair scrape and several heavy, booted steps later, and the door to the RV swung open, revealing Ford’s perplexed face and emitting a faint scent of chemicals. He quirked a brow in Carla’s direction. “You bellowed?”

                She frowned at his word choice and crossed her arms defiantly, pointedly ignoring the sniggering coming from the manchild behind her. “You’re a fire tamer, right?”

                His brows scrunched together in a mild frown as he thought the question over. “I suppose you could call it that. But I prefer to say I work with fire-”

                “Deal with this,” she interrupted, grabbing a handful of Stan’s sleeve and dragging him over to his brother. “There was a rowdy kid and now he’s all riled up, and if you don’t take him now I’ll throw a knife at him and I can’t guarantee I’ll miss.”

                Stanford rolled his eyes as he stepped back to allow Stanley entry. “I’ll deal with it, but I can’t promise it’ll stay dealt with,” he countered, leaping back as Stanley laid a comically exaggerated and loud kiss to his cheek. “AGH! Stanley, what the hell?” he yelped, rubbing a hand up and down his cheek, face flushed and lips twisted into a grimace when his hand passed over saliva.

                “Thanks, bro,” Stanley said as he made his way cheerfully into their shared space. “I feel so loved!”

                Ford turned back to Carla, his expression deadpan. “Run, while you still can.”

                She laughed and punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

                “Oh, and Carla?” Stanley popped up over Ford’s shoulder, and that’s when Carla realized she had to leave now.

                “Gotta go, Stan! Talk to you later, ok?” she called over her shoulder as she swiftly turned around and began making her escape.

                “Oh! Ok. Could you just thank Thistle for me when you see ‘im?”

                …Damn him and damn her curiosity straight to hell. She turned around with what she hoped was an effective warning look. “Thank him for what?”

               Stan quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa! Hey! No need fer that! I just genuinely wanted to thank him for helpin’ me put away all my props ‘n stuff yesterday.”

               Carla could feel her shoulders returning to their more relaxed positions. That was actually… “…Thanks, Stan. I’ll tell him you said that.”

               He smiled. “No problem, Carla. I just wanted to make sure he knew I appreciated his kind jester.”

               There’s no way of knowing for sure, but it was generally accepted by everyone at the circus that day that the ensuing, aggrieved shriek could be heard the next city over.

               “We’re going to need hearing aids soon if you keep winding her up like that.”

               Stanley grinned mischievously from his place against the wall as he watched his twin fiddle around with his latest fuel-concoction. “That was a good one, wasn’t it? Even better than I hoped for!”

               Ford shook his head in exasperation as he continued with his work. “I honestly don’t know what you hope to achieve by bothering that poor girl. Didn’t she suffer enough as your girlfriend?”

              Stan barked out a laugh and pushed off the wall, coming over to Ford to wrap a hand around one shoulder as he leaned over the other to observe his twin’s progress. “Yanno, I’d clock you a good one fer that remark if it wasn’t dripping with jealousy.” He glanced to the side to look for Ford’s reaction and – there! A quick spasm of fingers around the beaker he was holding, a slight quiver of a pipette in a suddenly unsteady hand and a jaunty bounce of an Adam’s apple were all Stan’s to cherish; small pieces of evidence of his twin’s affection that he could collect like an emotional magpie, decorating his life with pieces of love and hoarding the warmth they brought him.

              “Who’s jealous?” Ford asked, in the most chalant-nonchalant sort of way. Stanley hoped he wasn’t sincerely trying to sound unaffected, because that would mean his brother was the worst liar in history and bullshit was basically their trade, so…not a good combination. “I just meant that perhaps you should…ease up a little. No person should be screaming that much, that regularly.”

               “No?” Stan asked casually, plucking the beaker and pipette out of Ford’s hands and setting them down safely out of harm’s way, as Ford avidly stared at the side of his head. “You couldn’t see any advantages to screaming loudly on a regular basis?” He continued his line of questioning, pulling out the chair Ford is sitting in and sitting down in the newly created space of his twin’s lap. He looped his arms around Ford’s neck, grinning in triumph as he felt strong hands grip his hips, some stray fingers slipping under his shirt and coming to a stop to lightly caress the skin underneath. He licked his lips as he gazed into brilliant, warm brown eyes, so much more vibrant and arresting than his own. “No fringe benefits, at all?”

               He watched Ford’s eyes shift from side to side - searching for something, it looked like. The inner workings of Ford’s mind often eluded him. Whatever it was, he must’ve found it, because the firm, stiff line of his mouth softened and melted into a charmingly lazy grin and the feather-light caresses began to move downward with intent. “Well, Carla was certainly right about one thing. You are riled up, aren’t you?”

               Stan grinned devilishly, bringing one hand up to run through Ford’s curly locks, pausing every so often to deliver light, teasing scratches to his scalp. “You bet. She seemed to think that you should deal with me.” Here he grabbed a mass of hair, pulling Ford’s head back. Ford went willingly, offering his throat in its entirety to his brother. “What do you think about that?”

               “I’m not sure,” Ford admitted, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ve never really done well trying to force fire to bend to my will, as I’m sure you remember.” Stan responded with a non-committal hum and a light caress to a pale, pink patch of skin on his brother’s throat. “As I mentioned earlier, my best work seems to come when I treat the fire with respect. Like a partner.” He flicked his eyes down in an attempt to meet Stan’s despite the awkward angle.

               Stan considered him briefly, laid out and submissive beneath him, before throwing aside the façade and finally giving into temptation, bending forward to kiss, lick and suck at every inch of skin he could reach. His twin came alive immediately, hands coming up and grasping at Stan’s shoulders for purchase as he gasped and moaned his pleasure, completely losing himself in the moment.

               It was times like these, here in this narrow world where he and Ford were the only things in existence, that Stanley felt like everything slotted into place. Where he could slowly, carefully free his brother from all the invisible trappings of the world outside and celebrate his freedom, celebrate Ford. It was always his most thrilling escape, and when he succeeded it brought him more pride and joy than hundreds of locked tank performances could ever touch.

               Every soft gasp was like the rattle of a loosening chain, every moan the click of a lock springing open under his hands. Every desperate plea was like the awed gasps of an enthralled crowd and every call of his name the thunderous applause of a phantom audience. With Ford he reached new heights and it was with Ford that he achieved some of his greatest accomplishments.

               When they were together, he received some of Ford’s magic too. Every light caress trailed fire along his nerve-endings, and every kiss seared into him like a brand. Ford’s intense gaze lit a fire in his gut and his fierce embrace was scalding enough to melt away the outside fears and anxieties that plagued him while leaving his heart and soul feeling blissfully warm.

              Together they were two fires that burned brightly, twining and melting into one another to become an intimidating force of nature. Together, they broke locks and rent chains asunder, lifting each other to previously unattainable heights where they could soar in their freedom.

              Together, the future was bright.

              Together, they made the impossible possible.

[vnshkk]

SUKEKIYO [2017.06.27 - Kyo and YUCHI interview part 2]

Explosive force , an inquisitive spirit and everything thereafter.

Part 2 of Kyo and YUCHI’s interview for spice.

“If its something I depend on, I wanna cling to it and have everything and anything I do be forgiven.” - Kyo

“But even saying that, in reality you’re the one that everyone clings to.” (haha) - YUCHI

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. Remind me to finish translating things BEFORE going to see Dir in future. 

If it’s something I depend on, I wanna cling to it and have everything and anything I do be forgiven - Kyo

But even saying that, in reality you’re the one that everyone clings to (haha) - YUCHI

So, what was the intention behind titling the album with the latin word for ‘adoration’?  

Kyo: Whilst I was writing lyrics, I thought, “Would it be easier if I had something to cling to?”

Simply by looking at that ‘something’, that object, simply but believing in that alone, I wondered would I even need anything else? I found it kinda curious.

A story coiled with love, or rather those sentiments towards a person, the concept of “dependence” almost seems to naturally become a kind of running motif. Although, it is rather interesting to see something like that come from Kyo san, who gives the impression he doesn’t depend on anything.

Kyo: O..oh...I wonder if that's the case? Actually, if it's something that I depend on I want to cling to it. (haha)

YUCHI: Oh really?

Kyo: Yep! If it's something I depend on I want cling to it and live comfortably. I want everything and anything I do to be forgiven.

YUCHI: But even saying that, in reality you're the one that everyone clings to. (haha)

So in a sense it's possible to say that because you are unable to cling to yourself, you instead write about a kind of longing for people to cling to. By the way, in -Giji Necromancer- the word ‘admirer’ comes up doesn't it? Does this also have some correlation to the title ADORATIO?

Kyo: Yes. There was a discussion about having it as the first track and all the members agreed to it. Due to the dystocia of this song it ended up being the very last one we finished didn’t it?

YUCHI: That’s right. The original bass of the song was something Takumi san made years ago and after I had a mess around with it, I personally thought “I want this to be the first track”. But, during the time where the song wouldn't really become the shape we wanted, there was this other terrifically maniacal song that was a potential candidate for recording, so Kyo san suggested what if we were to combine the two tracks?

When we forcibly gave it a go and put the two together there was an excellent chemical reaction and I realised that actually, after all, the scent of sukekiyo really is the same no matter what the genre.

Kyo: The speed it seemed to go at until completion was amazing wasn't it? Pretty much as soon as Dir en grey's tour ended it was like “let’s just have a go at recording one song” and once we’d recorded it that was just stuck.

 This beginning was something I thought we would hear through the songs as an end result, but contrary to my expectations, there has been a sudden almost chaotic evolution into this magnificent symphonic yet aggressive progressive rock.

Kyo: I guess it's kinda…hard to know what the genre is, isn’t it?

YUCHI: Even though this was the simpler version. (haha) This kind of song can very easily become scattered and disordered, so we shaved down more and more and made it easier to understand, in parts a synthetic bass was also used. Actually, in -Kubitsuri yuugu- and -Shiryou no ariana- we pretty much only used synthetic bass didn’t we?

So by adding and taking away digital components, the rhythm section becomes essential doesn’t it.

YUCHI: That’s correct. Once people listen to it whether or not it gives the feel of “digital music” really is something that depends on the size of the rhythm section and in a sense, personally myself, doing this gave me a feeling of being refreshed in a way. The shape of it is almost as if I’ve being allowed to go back to my roots; there was a sense of being released. Mika san too did a vast amount of recording using electronic drums; he would play them as is, without any editing and then the tone was step programmed. There are songs where in even if it sounds like regular drums they were actually step programmed.

Also, on disc 2 you achieved collaborations with many notorious artists however, as with previous collaborations, this time round too did Kyo san choose the artists?

Kyo. Yes. I was pushy about it and went ahead with asking my favourite artists if they would be so kind as to collaborate, so it was all for my own gain!

YUCHI: KONTA san (ex. BARBEE BOYS) was shock wasn’t it?

Kyo: It was a shock wasn’t it. I wondered to myself if it would be better to gather a group of different generations to whatever extent I could and just have them listen to the album. And so this time around, whilst trying to keep it as organised as possible, from that selection of listeners the one that was the most fun was STRAWBERRY FIELDS

Fukui san (STRAWBERRY FIELDS vo. Fukui yoshihito)  Actually, the first concert I ever went to see was STRAWBERRY FIELDS. I explained all of that in a long letter and I very kindly received an offer from Fukui san saying, “I’ll give it a shot.” But be that as it may, Fukai san doesn't sing anymore and whilst wondering if there would be some kind of gap, I listened to the song he kindly did for me and it was to the level where I was like “Is he even in retirement?!” But I expected that from him to be honest. Which is why I’m sure Fukui san’s fans will be happy too. I think it’s interesting because I left the song choice up to the people doing the songs. So it was like “Oh! Fukui san is doing madara ningen!” or like “KONTA san is doing mimizozo?!”

It certainly would be like that! However within this line up the biggest age gap must have been Gara san, he surely must have felt some pressures.

Kyo: It was a case of me doing some straight faced salesmanship and arm twisting of his feelings with me being like, “Do you understand what an honor it is for you to be in this line up?” (haha) But...meh..he’s sang countless times with sukekiyo at live shows anyway.

YUCHI: The fact I got to collaborate with the people whose CDs I would normally buy and listen to is something I am incredibly grateful for. It's such an amazingly weird feeling knowing we got to collaborate with overseas artists. I had to do a double take like “What?? Bauhaus?!”

Kyo: Yep! I was like “I want Bauhaus’ Daniel Ash to do a remix more than anything!”

But there are still artists who I wanted to collaborate with but they didn’t grant my wish….like female artists and that. Which is why this collaboration series will continue next time as well.

Considering you sing from a female’s perspective you would most certainly want to try a collaboration with female artists wouldn’t you! And so, moving on to talk about your visuals on the album, included is the performance in June and December of last year at a rare venue as well as the event with MERRY in March of this year that we talked about earlier. As well as the two music videos; -En- with its almost nostalgic scent and -Hidauta- where Kyo san’s eccentric dance leaves a lasting impression of extreme chaos, yet again a juxtaposition of song choices.

Kyo: I was torn between choosing -En- or -Hakudaku- but in the end I went with -en-. And then, I wanted something that was the complete opposite in vibe so I went with -Hidauta- . The video shooting was pretty tough.

YUCHI: The director (mika) barely sat down did he? He pretty much only sat down when he was playing the drums. (haha)

Kyo: Yep. He’d record, set up, play the drums, go back again, and check. He proper didn’t sit down at all!

Wow. You really have to tip your hat to mika for being so multi-talented, playing the drums whilst directing.

So you guys brought this album to the June shows at Tokyo and Kyoto -Rakka suru getsumen- and performed it at at the halls but where did this tour title come from?

Kyo: Whilst working on the album, there was this overwhelming surge and this kind of image came forwards of what if it were as if a crater were drawing near? An idea that something beautiful were to slowly became more and more terrifying…..I thought like if it were almost like a kind of skin wouldn't that be creepy? And with that in mind we came up with the title. The tour titles up until this point have always been pretty long but this time we aimed to make it short and to the point.

A case of if something beautiful draws close, the reality can be terrifying, a singular truth and yet it gives the impression that it flows with the world view that Kyo san paints.

Kyo: Ohh, that's possibly true. Simply, by having a pre-release sale at the actual venue, those three lives became like a kind of warm up exercise, there was that sort of feeling. Calisthenics so to speak (haha). There aren’t really many instances where you go to the live before you’ve even heard the album, and so personally I want people to first see the live without having heard the album and that way be able to enjoy and focus intently on the next live they go to.

YUCHI: Personally I think Sukekiyo’s “mode” so to speak, is something you can really understand when you see a live. Even if we do past songs, even if we put out the same sound, the atmosphere is always completely different and that's what is most interesting.

In that respect, if these 3 performances are warm up exercises for a long jump, surely there'll be a sudden dash in the form of a live will there not?

YUCHI: I’d love to do a nationwide Japan tour. Up until now, our longest tour has been abroad.

Kyo: Yeah that's right. Going to different districts means the venue will be different too, and although there may many parts that are unclear, in February we had a go at going to different live houses and that worked out pretty well. I don’t know what shape it’s going to take, but I do know that I’d like to work on more things.

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.4

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader (i don’t know if this will have ships or just friendship or what I am just letting it run its course) Genres: friendship, drama, romance Rating: All Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2.5k  Announcement: I had so much fun writing this and the next one. Even though it seems sexy at the end don’t be fooled!

[Part 1]  [Part 3] [Part 5] [Tag Yourself Here]

It was late in the morning, you had slept for twelve hours and felt ready to take on anything. Cleaning and sorting the storage room you had made a makeshift coffee table out of the top of a desk and strongboxes full of shredded paper. The room had almost become a little home for you. Deeming it time to venture into the world you decided to get dressed. Starting with the basics you picked out Koya character underwear which after a small discussion with a nameless employee on the third floor. You had figured out whose characters were whose. You had found a box labelled GFriend full of clothes that might actually fit you, dresses and skirts all in bags named. 

Rifling through some bags you found one labelled ‘Summer Rain’. Opening it to find a bunch of beautiful white dresses. Slipping one of them -that looked about your size- over your head. It was adorable. Assuming that it was supposed to be an innocent flowing style. It seemed that your breasts were a little fuller than the person it had been intended for. At least that’s how it appeared in the small bathroom mirror. Not only was the bust fitted, but the skirt also raised slightly due to your hips and bottom, which must have been a little bigger as well. Meaning the dress only reached your mid-thigh. The fabric was made out of a stretchy material and all in all, it didn’t look small but rather perfectly cut for your body. 

Looking undeniably pretty, you found shoe boxes marked with the same name. Briefly hoping the owner didn’t get upset that you were borrowing their clothes. Inside the boxes were matching white heels. Slipping on a pair your first thought was how they were super comfy like standing on tiny pillows. Giving a spin for the mirror you thought something was definitely lacking. An outfit this cute deserved some makeup. Racing to grab the small BT21 makeup you had collected into a pile days previous. You began applying the BT21 makeup trying your best to style your hair with a few pins. At least half of you wanted to look good for the boys but the other half was doing this just for your own self-esteem.

Stepping back to get the full picture, your lips pulled up into a smile. Now you felt good. “You are pretty and you look cute and no one can make you think otherwise. You are special and one of a kind. I love you and that’s the only thing that matters, everything else is a bonus.” You will admit you had adopted this technique from Seokjin who complimented himself in the mirror after every shower. Taking a few Selfies or as the boys had taught you selca’s you got a text. From your brother.

[Are you dead?] [What if I say yes?] [Seriously how long are you going to stay down there?] [I have just finished getting dressed]

One last look in the mirror and you sighed, best not to keep b/n waiting. Running along the basement corridor, you took the elevator and headed up to the cafeteria hoping to catch a late breakfast or an early lunch. They said they would be serving lunch in an hour and handed you an apple apologetically. Thanking them genuinely, you enjoyed the crisp fruit whilst slowly strolling through the floors. That would hold you until then, you were never really big on breakfast anyway. Greeting some familiar faces. Familiar meaning: you had seen them in passing more than four times, yet you still didn’t know any of their names. Perhaps you should take some time for other people. You noticed most people were wearing weird tracksuits while their clothes were being washed. Considering yourself lucky to have a secret stash of clothes. 

Continuing on the journey to the dance practice room wanting to have some fun. The full night sleep gave you so much energy. No one was inside, looking at the schedule on the door. It would be empty for half an hour. Plenty of time. 

The floorboards made a familiar sound as you crossed and seeing yourself in full in the mirror on the walls made you smile throwing up a peace sign. This was all nostalgic and had you reliving long nights in the studio dancing routines over and over. Plugging your phone into the stereo you searched for an old dance playlist, once found you selected a warm-up song. It was one you always used. An old routine you performed your stretches to targeting your arms back and legs. The bridge hit and your body was warm and buzzing ready to start a dance. Quickly switching to something a little more upbeat, you began another familiar routine. Dancing hit after hit until your brother stepped into the room. Pausing you turned to him getting ready to pack up and leave. 

“Keep going, we don’t start for another five minutes” he gestured as he went over to your phone, his students stepped in. Filing in one after the other you stopped dancing feeling that it would be time for you to leave “Hey, you remember the routine to this one?”

B/n played you something that had your muscles moving before you could control it, “Yeah! There you go!” He paused the music “you kids want to see the masters at work?”

“Your old teacher, save it” The kids laughed. It must have been pretty hard being stuck in the building away from their families. “That sounds like a challenge, brother, let’s show these kids how it’s done!” the kids laughed oohing and causing a general commotion from the back of the room. Nodding to your brother who set up a camera hitting record. You did a couple of last-minute stretches as the music started. He joined you for the dance and you watched the kids’ mouths fall open. 

(I made this Gif from a 1million dance studio video the dance is ‘sorry, not sorry’)

The kids seemed to enjoy it. Each one looked more energized and ready to dance. Grabbing your things and heading out of the room with a wave. You checked the door for the next empty spot but decided to just take a picture of the schedule. Feeling like you were up in the clouds as you were skipping down the hallway. Giddy from your first real dance in a long time, in front of a crowd too. 

Spinning as you went, not noticing Hoseok step out of the elevator until the last minute. Trying to stop, digging your feet into the ground, torso flying forward. Toppling over him, you worried about Hoseok. Slipping your hand behind his head and tilting your knees out to avoid his crotch area seconds before you landed. You didn’t want to be the reason the guy couldn’t have children. But in doing this you were now chest to chest while straddling him. 

“Nice underwear,” Namjoon whistled. Squealing and rolling off of Hoseok you pulled the back of the dress down. Mortified beyond belief you flopped back onto the ground and covered your eyes, feeling someone stepping over you, voice calling from above. “Come on don’t be shy, it’s cute that you are wearing our underwear?”

“You know it’s not by choice” hands pried your arms away from your face. Revealing Namjoon who squatted over you one of his boots either side of your waist. Tilting his head to the side, looking down at your figure before actually helping you up. 

“Miss y/l/n” a soft voice spoke, Namjoon turned, stepping back so you could see around his towering form at a young teenage boy his English was broken but adorable “you left your headphones on the stereo, and um… your dance was amazing”

“Thank you” reaching out to grab the headphones, a hand grabbed them before you. Namjoon thanked the boy rather seriously, his face looked a little much. The boy ran off, turning to the guys curiously, “he must be nervous around big stars like you guys”

“Yeah that was definitely why he ran away” Jin rolled his eyes. Watching Namjoon hand you the headphones with a smile. The boys were so nice to their fans and strangers. It was nice to see celebrities who didn’t let the fame get to their heads.

“Y/n I am bored, can we play a game?” Taehyung wrapped his arms around you, his head resting on your shoulder. With anyone else, you would question what exactly this meant but you knew it didn’t mean anything romantically inclined. The boys were just super friendly and being quarantined in a building together, they didn’t have many people their age who don’t already work for them to make friends with. You had seen the way they were treated it was all business, every time they tried to approach someone their first words were, ‘what do you need?’ ‘how can I help?’ Not that they didn’t hang out with other employees. You were different from the others, a friend, at least you hoped they thought of you as a friend.

“There is a board game in the basement we can bring upstairs. If we look around there might be other games down there as well,” accompanied by Taehyung and Hoseok the two were excited to explore the basement some more. 

You were shuffling through the pile for the board game you had placed there a day or two ago when you heard Hoseok laughing, “Hey Tae look what I found” glancing over your shoulder thinking it might have been another board game, your blood ran cold however when he held up a small box. It was from the bag of things you had requested from the supply centre.

“Ah wait no, those are mine” launching across the room and snatching it from Hoseok.  “Yours, oh... I’m sorry” Hoseok stopped lost in thought, he felt a little upset that you hadn’t told them you were taken. Worried he might think you were someone you were not, you stammered out an explanation. He watched your mouth open and close for a few seconds and he chuckled. He liked when you were flustered, he didn’t know why but it was endearing.

“Well they aren’t all mine” You clarified and his eyebrows pulled together confused, “I asked the supply people to throw them in, in case anyone was getting a little intimate, but I forgot to hand them over” Taehyung snatched the box from behind your back, “it’s open, have you been using them?” He waved the box at you laughing. 

“No, I asked them to mix and match sizes and styles. So we opened some other packets and got a bunch of different sizes and styles and put them back inside that box. The green ones are latex-free, I don’t know what people prefer and it would suck getting intimate and then realizing that you don’t have your size”

“Hey, they have our size in here” Taehyung grinned held up a foil packet and you wished you hadn’t noticed the XL on the blue square because now it haunted you. You knew when night came and you were trying to sleep, all you will be able to think about is their sizes. “Jin, Namjoon and I are the same so that’s good” 

“Cool...” You mumbled confused on what an appropriate response to that statement would be. Had he not realised you were right there? He noticed your odd expression and lent down wiggling his eyebrows.  “You don’t believe me?” 

Clearing your throat and trying to snatch the box back. He was quick, taking a few from the box. Before reaching up to place it on top of the lockers against the wall. “When you need them just ask and we will get them down for you?” He winked. Hoseok was laughing at your expression and the two grinned, distributing condoms between them. 

“Or if you need them a little urgently you can always come to see us directly we will make sure to give the other boys some too,” Hoseok said feigning seriousness. What did this mean? This couldn’t be an invitation. They were celebrities and you were no one. It wasn’t like that, they were just friendly and playful. Reminding yourself once more that you wouldn’t even talk to each other if not for the quarantine and you knew they had been hanging out with a few other employees so you weren’t special. Hoseok smiled holding the board game and Taehyung had found a stack of regular playing cards and you followed the boys out of the room. 

Pouting the whole way down the corridor and following them into the elevator. The journey to the cafeteria felt like it took forever. Over lunch, you started a game of monopoly. People came to watch the game each finding the ordeal very amusing as this was the only source of entertainment lately. Jungkook won causing the other boys to groan. The group started packing up ready to head upstairs. You went to escape, thinking of stealing a ladder from the maintenance room and getting the box down when Jungkook placed his arm around you. Saying you were his trophy and leading you away.

Jungkook walked you straight into their meeting room “what should we play now?” “Poker,” Slipping out from under Jungkook’s arm and racing behind Taehyung. You reached into his back pockets. His eyes went wide, “and we are playing with these” you pulled the foil packets from Taehyung's back pocket and threw them on the coffee table they all stared at them “Hoseok you too?”

He raised his hands in surrender pulling out the rest from his pocket, after sorting them and giving each coloured packet a price the game began. Being good at bluffing the only person who was a challenge was Yoongi who gave nothing away. The game was lengthy and you watched the boys nervously eyeing the packets as they each lost. Everyone was out except Namjoon and yourself. Currently playing all-in, you had a straight and was feeling pretty good though you bit your lip in feigned nervousness trying to bluff Namjoon who was playing numbers and odds in his head.

“Okay, I’m all in,” Namjoon said looking up with a smile. You hated that smile it meant he knew he won the round. The others looked nervous at their leader huddled around his shoulders.  “come on you got to win them back,” Jimin said with a look of desperation that had you curious, who were they planning to sleep with that they needed condoms anyway.

Showing your cards, Namjoon grinned revealing his much better hand taking the collection. They cheered and you hummed “alright you are making me desperate, I will play my secret stash” you reached down the neck of the dress into your bra and between the fabric were the soft cup sat you pulled out a ‘for her’ studded and ribbed condom. Hesitating you stared at the pretty pink foil packaging it was the only one of its kind in this building. “And if you take this from me I am going to be pissed”

You threw it onto the table and Namjoon’s mouth split as they examined the packet, Hoseok read it out loud and they deliberated and nodded placing it on the table. “Alright, love one last game” Namjoon grinned running his thumb under his bottom lip gazing at you amused as Yoongi dealt the cards.

[Part 1]  [Part 3] [Part 5] [Tag Yourself Here]

@bubbletae7​ @lovemusicandotps​ @taetaeb? (this last tag isn’t a username on Tumblr please I don’t want you to miss out hit me up with a message and I will fix it straight away.)

[sqgtdevreviews]

Sonic The Hedgehog 2 Publisher: Sega Developer: Sonic Team/Sega Technical Institute System: Sega Genesis Year: 1992

After the runaway (pun intended) success of Sonic 1, it was only natural that Sega immediately commission a sequel. While Sonic has had several periods of very high popularity over 25 years, this was easily the peak of his fame. Sonic 2 was one of the most hyped games in history, and the first ever to release worldwide on the same day, known as Sonic 2sday. Despite a troubled development with American and Japanese staff who had trouble working together, and the removal of several zones to make the date on time, Sonic 2 fully lived up to its colossal hype and is, to this day, still the most popular Sonic game of all time. While Sonic 1 continues to age well and is also considered a genre defining classic, Sonic 2 set the series standard that many of the following games try to build on or outright copy.

Sonic 2 managed to keep the gameplay from Sonic 1 simple without adding much to it. However, the additions Sonic 2 made became permanent series staples. The first is Miles “Tails” Prower, Sonic’s two-tailed fox sidekick. Tails is the Luigi to Sonic’s Mario: he’s orange instead of blue, adorable instead of cool, and he is the player two character. Tails is AI controlled and will follow Sonic around, collecting rings and attacking any enemies in his sight. When he gets left offscreen (which will happen a lot), he’ll use his two tails to fly back on screen. He might not seem that useful at first, but he can help you quick-kill bosses. He is a very fun addition to the game and without a doubt the most essential character in the series other than Sonic and Eggman. The best part is that a second player can pick up a controller and play with him to help you out! You can, of course, choose to play with Sonic alone, or with Tails alone, but unfortunately playable Tails cannot fly.

The second huge addition is one so important that new players frequently struggle in Sonic 1 without it: the Spin Dash. By ducking and mashing the jump button, Sonic will curl into a ball, but will stay in the same position and visibly build up speed. Letting go of the D-Pad will rocket Sonic forward in ball form. It’s a great way to gain speed quickly on any solid ground, and as a result, you don’t have to search for steep curves to roll down to gain speed quickly. This has the effect of kicking the game’s pace up several notches.

The third is a 7th Chaos Emerald. Other than the Game Gear games, the number would stay at seven for the rest of the series. Special Stages were almost completely reworked, and while you still need 50 Rings, you just need to bring them to a Star Post (checkpoint) now, which opens a ring of stars that take you to the Special Stage. Sonic 1’s Rotating Mazes were ditched in favor of a fake 3D halfpipe minigame, in which the player faces away from the screen and runs continuously. Each Special Stage has three sections to it, and in each section you have to collect a specific amount of rings that come towards the screen, while dodging bombs that will make you lose rings. If you reach the end of a section without enough rings, you’re booted out of the Special Stage. Otherwise, you’ll keep going, and at the end of the whole stage is a Chaos Emerald waiting for you. These are a lot more fun than the spinning mazes, and you get a lot more chances to beat them. However, they start to get difficult very quickly, and Tails’ AI is notoriously terrible here and will smash into bombs frequently. By tying Special Stages to checkpoints, you also start seeing a lot less of them by the fourth zone, though thankfully the main acts are short enough where you won’t lose that much progress if you die.

Now there is an actual reward for collecting all seven emeralds. By collecting 50 rings and jumping, Sonic will become Super Sonic, who is for all intents and purposes a fun nod to Dragonball Z. Super Sonic is invincible and much faster, and he has his own theme. However, you have to keep maintaining your ring count, because Super Sonic slowly drains your rings. If it drops to 0, you return to regular Sonic. He was clearly added in last minute as he is a bit glitchy, but he is extremely fun to play around with.

There is also a fun two player split screen mode. Sonic and Tails can compete to race to the end of Emerald Hill Zone, Casino Night Zone and Mystic Cave Zone. They all have different music tracks (originally meant for zones that were removed), and the bosses are removed, but they otherwise are the same. There is also an extra monitor type that switches both players. On top of that, there is also a competitive Special Stage; here both players share the same screen and have to get more rings than each other. Hardware limitations prevent this mode from being truly fantastic, but it still manages to be pretty fun.

The above additions make Sonic 2 a lot more engaging than Sonic 1, but a subtle change that goes a long way is that the game structure was redone for faster pacing. Zones are no longer made of three acts (other than Metropolis Zone), but just two, and there are a lot more zones this time around. There are also no more slow paced and blocky levels like Marble and Labyrinth Zone this time around. Now every zone has many opportunities to roll around at the speed of sound. Despite having (purple) water, Chemical Plant is widely considered to be one of the best levels in the series thanks to its intense speed and dozens of multiple pathways. Casino Night is the definitive casino zone and the first to add slot machines and pinball flippers, both a perfect fit for Sonic’s ball form.

Unfortunately, the level design still isn’t perfect. The first six zones are an absolute blast, but once you reach Oil Ocean, the game hits a slump that it never recovers from. The zones from this point on start to throw tons of cheap shots at you (especially the infamous Metropolis Zone) and generally drag on. The exception is Sky Chase Zone, a short and relaxing one act zone in which you wing walk on Sonic’s Tornado biplane. The entirety of the final level, Death Egg Zone, is two bosses in a row without any rings. If you’re very good at pattern recognition you’ll probably take them both out quickly, but if you’re not, God help you.

Thankfully, the relatively lame final stretch is the only real negative. Everything else is near perfection. The graphics and art style are the same as in Sonic 1, but with a ton of extra background detail and more bold colors, which makes the game as a whole much more eyepopping. The Special Stages are especially striking; while they are a bit choppy, it does nothing to make the fake 3D effect look any worse. The halfpipe tube even twists and turns with many frames of animation. It’s seriously impressive! The music is also more of the same from Sonic 1, and is still composed by Masato Nakamura. This is not a bad thing, and it lives up to the high standards of Sonic 1’s outstanding soundtrack. Just as Sonic 2 is a lot faster paced than Sonic 1, the soundtrack was also given a kick in the pants, and almost every song in the game feels more up-tempo.

I don’t consider Sonic 2 to be the best game in the series but regardless, it’s pretty damn close, and if someone else were to rate it #1, I would understand fully. It’s a great experience from start to finish and truly defined the Sonic series as we know it.

[carolcooks2]

Hello and welcome to this week’s edition of recycling and climate change news from around the world…

Since last Monday I have watched “The Story of Plastic“…Did any of you register and watch it?

Tonight I am attending a zoom panel discussion and Q&A...I am looking forward to that as this film has raised many questions which I would like the answers to or know what the way forward is…

Briefly, it was the story of the birth of plastic and how far it has come…Did you know that plastic was once a waste product?

It is the story of how the oil & gas industry has been successful in manipulating the narrative…The story of how some plastics just cannot be recycled…It is the story of sachets which are multi-layers of different substances, plastic, aluminum, paper these 1 serving convenient little sachets cannot be recycled…

These Sachets cannot be recycled

It is the story of the fact that recent studies found plastic particles in 83% of tap water samples globally and 93% of bottled water.

It is the story of crisp and biscuit wrappers that are also non-recyclable they are single-use and disposed of immediately…

For too long manufacturers have put the blame on consumers and the fact we don’t recycle enough…It is time that manufacturers were made to be responsible if it cannot be recycled then they should not be making it they should be responsible for the packaging of all goods and for that packaging to be fully recyclable.

For the next few weeks, I will be discussing all the aspects of this film and the Q & A session…

Now let’s look at what I have for you this week…

Glass bottles…I buy liquids in glass bottles under the assumption that glass is best…However, despite the cons, I am not saying you should ditch the glass…glass does not leach toxic chemicals, making it a great option for you to continually use and repurpose it. Use it to fill up a soy wax candle, for your bulk food shopping, keep leftovers in the fridge or to store your DIY cleaning products/beauty/skincare creams. I love glass …However…

Reuse as much as possible what you already have rather than buying new and if you have to dispose of glass, clean it properly, and ensure it is being properly recycled.

The cons could be behind the industry move to create a bottle that is made out of entirely sustainably-sourced pulp to meet food-safe standards and will be fully recyclable in standard waste streams.

The technology is going to open doors to a lot of other drinks companies, who up until now have only had glass bottle options for their packaging.

First out of the blocks is Johnnie Walker Whiskey…

My son’s first comment when I showed him the bottle was…That’s good if you drop it maybe it won���t break…I think the bottle looks really good …classy looking …

Children’s clothes and school uniforms are often items that are as good as new when the kids outgrow them…The department store John Lewis has hit on a great idea…

In a bid to encourage parents not to buy all new clothes, the department store is introducing new organic cotton labeling to its own-brand children’s coats.

This will allow parents to cross out names and write new ones.

John Lewis wanted to test the initiative with coats because these are usually the longest-wearing and most costly item for a parent to buy…What a good idea!

It seems that UK stores are coming up with some great ideas… Lidl has become the first supermarket in the UK to launch new packaging made from “ocean-bound plastic”.

The plastic will be collected from beaches in South East Asia, which – according to the retailer’s research – is where 80-90% of plastic packaging enters the ocean.

The plan will see discarded plastic picked up, recycled, and turned into a resin.

The plastic the retailer collects would have otherwise ended up in the ocean.

Now for some great animal news last week it was bees this week it is Beavers who are renowned for their dam building.

Beavers reintroduced to tackle flooding in Essex have given birth to two kits – the first time the animals have been born in the county since the Middle Ages that’s over 400 years.

Beavers were hunted to extinction in the UK…They have now been reintroduced and have had two adorable little kits…it is all part of a river management project and they became the first pair to be brought to Essex in around 400 years.

A spokesman said:

The adult beaver pair, Woody and Willow, have been building dams since their arrival as part of a partnership project with the Environment Agency and others.

Spains Hall Estate manager Archie Ruggles-Brise described news of the beaver babies as “fantastic”.

“If they are anything like their parents, the two kits will become phenomenal dam builders, and we will be watching closely as they expand the wetland and provide even more protection against flood and drought, and provide homes for loads of other wildlife,” he said.

A public vote on Twitter is being held to help pick names for the kits.

How cute is that and such good news…Thank you, Tori, for providing this little gem.

On that note that is all for today…

Thank you for reading be well and stay safe xxx

About Carol Taylor: Enjoying life in The Land Of Smiles I am having so much fun researching, finding new, authentic recipes both Thai and International to share with you. New recipes gleaned from those who I have met on my travels or are just passing through and stopped for a while. I hope you enjoy them.

I love shopping at the local markets, finding fresh, natural ingredients, new strange fruits and vegetable ones I have never seen or cooked with. I am generally the only European person and attract much attention and I love to try what I am offered and when I smile and say Aroy or Saab as it is here in the north I am met with much smiling.

Some of my recipes may not be in line with traditional ingredients and methods of cooking but are recipes I know and have become to love and maybe if you dare to try you will too. You will always get more than just a recipe from me as I love to research and find out what other properties the ingredients I use contain to improve our health and wellbeing.

Exciting for me hence the title of my blog, Retired No One Told Me! I am having a wonderful ride and don’t want to get off, so if you wish to follow me on my adventures, then welcome! I hope you enjoy the ride also and if it encourages you to take a step into the unknown or untried, you know you want to…….Then, I will be happy!

Thank you once again for reading this post I hope you all stay safe and healthy xx

Recycling and Climate Change… 20th July 2020…

Hello and welcome to this week’s edition of recycling and climate change news from around the world…

Recycling and Climate Change… 20th July 2020… Hello and welcome to this week’s edition of recycling and climate change news from around the world…