#but i figured that the treasure-table should be pretty simple? right? it's just a list that tells vendors what to stock? right?

[racke7]

So, because of the setback to my "grand idea" that was me accidentally nerfing my own mod. I spent this morning trying to think of a way to make certain classes interesting.

Like, Necromancer can usually be interesting by using teleportation and smacking people with massively damaging AOEs.

(Which is why Spectre, where "physical damage" is almost a side-effect to your true goal of stacking up debuffs that do very little (without game-breaking mods) always comes across as frustrating to me.)

And Rogue can be fun, because there's stuff like positioning yourself for backstabs, and then also having access to lots and lots of CCs.

(Turning people into chickens who will run away, after giving them a debuff that makes them take massive damage if they try to run? Always hilarious.)

Comparatively, Knight is "run up and hit them with your sword", and Ranger is "go to a high-spot and then click-kill on the enemies".

So, trying to make those classes more interesting is... hmm...

In the end, I found something that sounded very promising for a Knight-build, where they basically boost themselves with every skill, until they get access to a very strong attack. It's still very much "hit them with the sword", but it feels like there could be a bit of a dynamic involved.

The same mod-author had also created a Ranger-mod and Rogue-mod, and those looked like they'd stack pretty well with each other (a lot of "cause Bleed" and "if enemy is Bleeding, then" type of skills).

But then I, of course, got distracted.

And created an entire new Necromancer-mod from scratch.

I have no idea if it's even remotely "balanced" or whatever, because I just grabbed a few Hydro-skills and said "you do physical damage now". Which was... a very long and involved process. Especially to switch the skill-animations for other skill-animations.

But the end result was me having a bunch of Necro-skills that are purely damaging, causes bleed/decay/cripple, and doesn't come attached with all of the unnecessary bells-and-whistles of Odinblade that always seems to annoy me.

I'm... probably going to publish it once I've done some actual vague play-testing, and maybe one day I'll even be able to figure out how to get the fuckers to actually sell the damn spells.

(For now, I just craft them by combining "random bits of junk" with "necromancer books", because that usually makes it compatible with everything else.)

[stargazingthenightaway]

See Something You Like? Epilogue

Pairing: Rebels Rex x Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Yearning, teasing

A/N: 😚 😚 For all my lovely readers 💕

Making your way through the mess hall, you see you’ve beaten the lunch rush and quickly bee-line towards the caff station, filling up two mugs and putting them on a tray. Ria had commed you about meeting up on your break, and knowing how busy she was that morning, you decided to have a fresh cup waiting for her. You grab a couple hot plates, thanking the cook, and find a spot not too far from the entrance. As you sit down you keep an eye on the entrance so you can wave Ria over when she gets there. Taking a sip of caff, you settle in your seat and your mind drifts back to last night, and earlier this morning.

Rex had been a most thorough lover, and true to his word, hadn’t finished with you until the early hours of the morning, leaving you both exhausted and satisfied. You feel your face heat up when you think about all the sounds he coaxed out of you, the praises that dripped from his lips as he brought you to orgasm and the tender way he took care of you afterwards, making sure you were alright. What you most enjoyed was how he held you when you both drifted off, arms holding you close as your head rested on his chest, whispering how you were his sweet girl.

You can’t help the giddy smile that covers your face when you recall how grumpy Rex was earlier that morning. He had done his absolute best to persuade you to spend a few more hours with him in bed, but you had a meeting you couldn’t miss, and you had reluctantly left him pouting in the sheets as you got ready. Eventually, he too started getting ready for the day, though not without hinting at all the things he could be doing instead, with you and a mirror, brushing up against you and sneaking kisses when you weren’t paying attention. Needless to say you left your room a blushing mess, with Rex following not far behind, smirk plastered on his face.  

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t see Ria enter the mess hall and make her way over to the table. "Hello there, sunshine!” She calls out as she sits down, bringing you out of your daydreaming. 

“Ria, hey!” You say, passing her a cup and watching her clutch it to her chest, breathing the scent it in as if the steam alone would give her energy. “Long meeting?”

“You have no idea,” she groans after taking a sip “nerf herders can’t tell the difference between a gear shift and brake pedal.” 

You wince. “Ouch. Well, hopefully your afternoon will get better.” You perk up “Isn’t that new transfer set to arrive today?”

She looks at you suspiciously. “Where did this cheeriness come from?” She eyes you from over the rim of her cup “usually you’re right up there asking what other problems they’ve caused, and if I need help hiding a body.”

“No reason,” you say, laughing “just having a good morning, that’s all.”

Ria takes a moment to give you a look over while you sip your caff, before her eyes widen. “Omg! You got down and did the dirty dance!”

“Ria!” You groan “Do you have to say it like that?”

“What?” She says without remorse, “would you rather I call it the frisky foxtrot? Mattress mambo? Tantric tango?”

“Shhh! Someone will hear you!” You hiss, cheeks heating up as you look fervently around you, “where do you even come up with these things?”

“You’re not denying it,” she gives a little shriek of laughter, wiggling in place “you, my friend, got some good lovin’ and I need all the deets!” She gives you a look, “especially after all the stunts you pulled me into to avoid a certain someone.”

“I do not have to confirm or deny anything” you say, hiding behind your caff.

“You may not confirm anything, but your neck is certainly making a statement.” She leans over to pull the edge of your collar down “that’s quite the necklace you’re wearing there sunshine.”

You can feel your face turning three shades of red as you slap her hand away, hastily pulling the collar of your shirt up. “Ok! Ok, so maybe I had a bit of fun the other night, there’s no need to let the whole base know.”

Ria grins triumphantly “That’s more than just a bit of fun” she says, making the little air quotes “that’s a full on romp with the promise of a repeat” She wiggles her eyebrows comically and you can’t help but laugh, hearing her join in.

“Alright, yes, I did indeed do the dirty dance, as you said” you say once your laughter has died down. 

Ria makes the motion to continue, attention on you. “And? That can’t be all it was or else you wouldn’t be like this.” She motions to all of you “All glowy and really happy.” 

You give her a sly look “Let’s just say that he certainly has the moves to keep you coming back for more.”

Ria squeals and looks about ready to combust with all the questions you can see buzzing around her head. “So are you going to see him again? Or is it fated to be a one-night of lusty wonder?”

While you want to tell her all about Rex, you want to keep him to yourself for a bit longer so you keep your answer simple. “We’ve already planned to meet up again.” You duck your head shyly, smiling. “He makes me happy Ria, really happy.” You fiddle with your cup, looking back up at her “I didn’t think he’d feel the same way, but he does.” Your smile softens as you think of Rex and how he looked when you told him you wanted him by your side for a lifetime. The look of adoration is one you’ll treasure for years to come.

Ria looks at you in wonder, “Wow, he’s the real deal huh?” Watching you nod she squeals again, doing a little happy dance in her seat. “Best. News. Ever!”

A booming voice calls out close by “What’s the best news ladies?”

You and Ria both look over and see Gregor striding to you table, standing next to your seat. “Got yourself more excited than a restless Joopa.”

“No reason,” you say “just girl stuff.”

“But you’re more than welcome to join us.” Ria chimes in, gesturing to the seat. “We’re ‘bout to start venting about the doofs in engineering.” 

You know Ria and Gregor share shifts on the occasion, overseeing repairs and helping out with different teams, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Gregor to join you sometimes for meals. 

"Don’t mind if I do.” He sits down, big grin on his face, as he turns to face you. “I was actually looking for ya, figured I’d find ya here with this one.” He jerks his thumb towards Ria.

You point to yourself “Me?”

He nods “Mhmm. Was curious if ya’d seen Rex this morning. He missed training with Wolffe and I, and I thought ya might’ve seen’im”

You sputter and can see Ria giving you a calculated look, so you hurry to give an answer. “I’m not sure, but I thought I saw him when I was heading to the office. It looked like he was making his way towards the training room.” 

Gregor looks at you, a strange look in his eyes, and you try not to fidget in place. That, paired with the look Ria is giving you is making you antsy, and you wonder if you should just make up some excuse about paper work and dash away. Before you can say anything Gregor grins, giving you a thumbs up.

“Glad to hear it, thought he might have gone MIA for a moment there.” He lowers his voice, as if sharing a secret. “Wolffe can sometimes get pretty intense, especially during training. Likes to bring out the chompers if he hasn’t had a good meal.” He laughs at the looks you and Ria give him. “By the way, Rex said he wanted to talk to ya yesterday. Did he find ya?"

“Yes, down at the shooting range.” You huff, “we actually ended up having a bit of a competition, see who could hit the most targets without looking.”

Gregor looks intrigued “Oh? How’d that go for ya?” 

“l ate blaster dust.” You grin wryly “Let’s just say I won’t be challenging Rex to a shoot out anytime soon. Didn’t even stand a chance.”

“Was it the C-501 sim?” He asks. When you nod, he laughs “Ha! of course he’d win that one.”

“Oh?” You say confused, “Why’s that? It's only recently been added.”

“That’s because it was designed for us clones, way back on Kamino.” He leans in conspiratorially, “What the Kaminii didn’t realize was that it was too easy, so we ended up getting a little creative with it.”

“Creative how?” Ria leaned forward eagerly, soaking up this new information. You have to admit you’re intrigued as well. 

Gregor was really getting into in now. Checking to see there were no other eavesdroppers, he huddles the two of you closer. “Well, there were the usual things like spinning in place before firing, making noise before a shot,” he counts them off on his fingers “shooting from someones back, doing a handstand.” 

You and Ria just stare at him as he continues on his list. “But the best was hitting the targets without looking.” Here Gregor starts to grin, as if he was watching it himself “and no one was better then good’ol Rex." 

“Really!?” Ria jumps in before you can comment, “How did he do it? Blindfolded? Eyes closed?” She’s practically climbing out of her seat to get to him, not that she’s noticed. 

Gregor pushes his chair back to give himself some more room. “Well,” he says as he starts miming the actions. “He’d start off by facing the range, then he’d turn to his opponent. He’d make sure to look them straight in the eyes, something about establishing dominance, and then BLAM! Start firing each target.” He gives a hearty laugh “I’m not surprised ya didn’t win, he’s the reigning champ. No one has beaten him.”

Ria’s babbling on excitedly to Gregor, wanting to know all his secrets of the sims and training, but your mind has zoned out.

Reigning Champ? Never beaten? He already knew he was going to win, even before you had set the bet. You give a small huff of laughter, thinking back on his confidence, how easily he set you up in his trap. Well, well, you think to yourself looks like I got played for keeps. 

Your musing are interrupted when you hear Gregor call out a greeting to a couple rebels who walked into the room.

“Wolffe! Rex! Come over’ere!” He waves his arm wildly, as they make their way over.

You can’t help but stare as he makes his way over, a slight swagger in his steps. One could presume it’s just how he carries himself, with his military upbringing, but you know better. That’s the walk of a man who finally has what he wants, and is not afraid to show it. His eyes linger on you neck before meeting yours, a smirk pulling on his lips.

You smile back, mind already working out your next challenge. You were your town’s best racer for five seasons, before you joined the rebellion, and the base did have a couple racers lying around. Why not even the odds? Winner takes all.

Rex sits across from you, and you tilt your head to the side, just enough that he can see the marks on your neck, the others engaged in their own conversation. The look you give him sends his heart beating faster, the calculated look in your eyes promising an enticing reward. Knowing his attention is on you, you quickly mouth best two out of three? While he doesn’t respond, his eyes tell you his answer, sending a thrill to your core.

Challenge accepted.

Tag List  @samrubio @justanotherstarwarswhore @bvcketfvcker @grumpymuffinmama @justanothersadperson93 @fat-zygerrian @deewithani @idolized-sea-salt @i-am-bad-at-blogs

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.

[mrpenguinpants]

KAEYA PLAYING WITH ABYSS MAGES AHDHSHDHSB IM- that’s so cute????? Guizhong being older than Zhongli is such a valid hc, I fully support and condone it. Thank you. And Childe growing to like battle was something I found interesting because he was once mentioned to be fragile and weak in his character stories iirc? I like to think that maybe the initial reason he persevered was to overcome that past status.

Also, YES. They’d have the worst habits, and it would eventually become more visible the more comfortable it becomes, but Keqing just gives up on trying to change anything because it’s literally hopeless.

I also headcanon that they have different ways to show appreciation for Keqing. E.g. Childe sometimes uses one of his cringy ass Russian nicknames and when she looks up the meaning, she turns from the most straight-faced woman known to man to a highkey affection-starved queen self-destructing in her room.

Diluc leaves a note on her desk that are simple “Sleep early today. Tomorrow is your day-off.” or “Don’t over work yourself.” messages. He’s so self-conscious about it because like, what if Kaeya catches him up at night contemplating whatever reaction he’ll get. Ends up feeling so accomplished whenever his messages bring a smile to her face.

Kaeya, I feel, would be more open in a sense? Keqing is the last person he thinks he’s be able to deceive, and so he chooses not to. He’s probably one who enjoys deep conversations about literally anything be it mosaic artwork or changes in between modern and archaic politics. A good listener and a fine conversation partner, I feel they’d certainly have interesting conversations.

Zhongli lowkey seizing every opportunity to bring up Rex Lapis and his sense of humor is lowkey degrading Morax for his past mistakes. He’s like “Oh, I thought you hated him. I hate him too” and proceeds to laugh at the fact that the oh-so legendary Geo archon bore a hole in his hoodie for his hair. FOR HIS HAIRS. Keqing is losing her sanity trying not to expose herself as a closeted fan.

The anon lists’ name is super cute btw! Makes me feel pretty blessed for being there haha. I just finished midterms and goodness, I am exhausted. We’re having a short break so I think I can send asks much faster during the brief moment of rest. And pls drink responsibly 🙏

Sincerely, Keqing harem brainrot anon

I lowkey plucked Kaeya playing with mobs and shoved it into the royalty au because god damn, that’s fucking cute. I’m so behind on my asks;; but it’s okay cause we’re here now. I don’t know, Guizhong being that older sister/mother/whatever figure is so heartwarming to me. I think you’re right? I vaguely remember him saying he was pretty fragile but I have the memory of a goldfish haha. Lowkey, this is why I really want the part 2 and 3 of character story quests to go more in depth with their actual character stories. I want to see Childe talk about his feelings and meet his siblings, I want to hear more about Guizhong, I want to hear about the crippling loneliness and depression that Bennett and Barbara have (NO I WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT THIS PART. WHY THE FUCK IS GENSHIN NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS? I KNOW ITS FUN AND GAMES BUT LET ME CARE ABOUT THEM. 1.4 has these hangout events and istg, bennett and barabara have one and if we don’t talk about our feelings I’m going to cry). 

oml their bad habits, Zhongli and his extensive collection of plants because that’s the most social interaction he gets (yes, zhongli is a planter. no i do not take criticism tyvm) and it starts off with a couple plants. Not too bad. Then the next day Keqing walks and it looks like their entire home turned into a forest. But Zhongli loves his plant children and Keqing is slowly losing her mind and starts referring to the plants with the nicknames Zhongli gave them. 

This. This is cute. These appreciation ideas. I fully approve and we need to bring them back. I don’t know anything about Russian but I have a friend that does. But I don’t know how to casually say “hey, can you give me Russian nicknames of endearment. It’s for research.”. Keqing radiates professional in the front, social anxiety in the back. I just love that they added the detail that she’s secretly a Rex Lapis fan but pretends that she hates him. I know there is art of Zhongli lowkey being creeped out or vv smug when he find’s Keqings stash but idk, imagining him being a proud dad and giving headpats even though Keqing is an adult. 

Okay. Let me level with you. Sticky notes of reassuring phrases are the best and why the fuck aren’t people doing it more. I’ve been reading “my mom left a note on the table” or “my partner puts sticky notes in my textbooks as a pick me up” for CENTURIES but am I seeing it in real life? Fuck no. Please, if someone does this for you. Keep them, never let them go. I can imagine Diluc writing these messages, feeling confident when he writes them and ready to be a supportive person. The next day he’s looking at these notes and thinking “what the fuck did I just write, this is garbage” (totally not how I feel about my writing). Then he proceeds to throw them in some cabinet but since Kaeya doesn’t know the first thing about personal boundaries he goes snooping around in Diluc’s room, discovers the notes, and he ends up taking them and putting them on Keqing’s things. It makes her happy so Diluc is going to ignore the very pressing issue with whether or not he should commit manslaughter. 

You know, that’s very valid. That’s how I feel about Kaeya’s relationship with Lisa or Albedo. People that don’t get riled up or annoyed by his antics the same way Amber is. I feel like if you’re looking for small talk, he’s not a bad choice, but if you want those deep 3am conversations he’s definitely the person to go to. Zhongli isn’t a bad choice either but Zhongli tends to go into historical and philosophical moments (which isn’t bad) but you want to have someone relate to you or it feels like an actual conversation and not a history lesson then he’s actually perfect. Especially more controversial topics, I feel like Kaeya would probably have very different opinions from the norm. 

YES. YES. YES I’m replying to these as I read them but YES. Honestly, I get it. Zhongli is a super polite and respectable person. But. But. Have you seen how he clowned on Childe?? That entire interaction?? He didn’t even look the slightest big apologetic for almost destroying Liyue and using the man who was going to kill him to pay for his funeral. What a power move?? And you’re telling me you don’t see him being a smug prick. I love Zhongli’s story quest where everyone is saying “oh the first mora was treasured or it holds mythical powers” and Zhongli is looking at them as if they’re idiots. 

tyty (❤´艸｀❤) I’m blessed to have you here. Oh, I hope you did well on your midterms tho and be sure to rest. I am a bit late to replying to this so hopefully I caught you before your break was over.

Always lovely hearing from you,

Pengu

[mordoriscalling]

Secret pt.2

A follow up to my fanfic about Geralt talking (and eventually confessing his love) to Jaskier in Polish, thinking that Jaskier doesn’t understand. @artistsfuneral came up with that glorious idea in this fic! Now, pt 2 is about how Jaskier learns the language, as requested by blue_midnight on AO3. Hope you enjoy! 

(This fic also includes background, brief Lambert/ Aiden)

At the beginning, Jaskier suspects that it’s Geralt’s way of being as rude as possible. Why on earth act like that, he has no idea, but one thing is for certain: the rustling sounds leaving Geralt’s mouth, which Jaskier thinks are supposed to be words, are set to drive him insane.

It must be some kind of language. Geralt uses it when talking to his horse a lot. Jaskier almost finds the behaviour endearing but then the witcher speaks in that tongue when answering many of his questions. Jaskier just wants to get them better acquainted but Geralt couldn’t care less about the offerings of friendship, apparently.

Even though the witcher can be a right bastard like that, one thing is clear from the very start: Jaskier can only wish to be half the man Geralt is, but the world thinks it’s Geralt who is less than human. Jaskier finds he can’t stand by and let it happen.

It’s a simple exchange. They both need each other to prove that they’re more than what everyone thinks they are. The transaction is uncomplicated: Geralt fights monsters for Jaskier to sing about, Jaskier softens the hearts and the minds. As time passes, however, it changes and becomes more complex: they share food, rooms and coin, start caring for each other in all the small but significant ways.

Five years pass and it’s a friendship in full bloom, but Geralt still often talks to him and snaps at him in that damned tongue, like he doesn’t think Jaskier worthy of knowing his thoughts. It’s never stopped angering him but at this point, he’s also intrigued in what Geralt wants to hide and why the hell it seems to concern him so often. (A certain feeling that shall not be named blooms in his chest at the thought and he squashes it).

Then there’s that one bath. Geralt looks at him as if he was the most fascinating puzzle in the world which, fair, Jaskier is interesting if he does say so himself, but not that much. It’s on that day that he decides to learn that bloody language, even if it’s the last thing he does.

Jaskier goes to Oxenfurt that winter and searches the vast library through and through. The librarians shoot him looks indicating their suspicion about him being a maniac but Jaskier is simply a man on a mission. In the middle of winter, his madness finally bears fruit – he finds an ancient book written in a language he has never seen. “Wiedźmiński bestiariusz” the title says. Inside, there’s a loose piece of parchment with the first few paragraphs of the book translated, including the title – “Witcher Bestiary”. The book is full of sketches of monsters and descriptions, the words containing several strange letters. Many passages aren’t readable anymore because they’ve faded with age but Jaskier treasures the book anyway. He spends the rest of the winter copying all the legible pages, indulging in life’s pleasures much less, which only fuels the rumours of his insanity. All the while, he hopes that this is the language Geralt has been using.

The answer comes surprisingly quickly in the surprising shape of another wolf witcher. They stumble upon each other in late spring in Redania. It’s such a funny coincidence that there’s no way Jaskier’s not going to make the best of it.

“See, master witcher,” Jaskier says as they drink ale together, “When I rummaged through my university’s library, I stumbled upon an interesting volume.” He forgets to mention the translated passages as he pulls out his copy of the book and lays it on the table in front of Lambert. The witcher’s eyes widen when they rest upon the title and Jaskier knows this is it. He grins and carries on, “It seems to be full of precious knowledge and wisdom, yet it’s written in a language I don’t understand. It concerns monsters, so I was hoping a witcher could assist me in decoding this tongue.”

Lambert says nothing for some time, only regarding Jaskier with suspicion. “Why would you want to learn it?” he questions.

“Call it academic curiosity.”

The witcher’s eyes narrow. Hadn’t Jaskier spent so much time with Geralt, he would certainly squirm under the hot, searching gaze.

“It’s not a secret language of your guild, is it?” he asks to break the tense silence.

“It’s not,” Lambert answers, “But no one really bothered before, is the thing. Dunno what to make of you.”

Jaskier sighs and decides to reveal the malice of his intentions because, from what little Geralt told him of his brothers, he knows that Lambert will appreciate it. “Listen,” he says as he leans in towards the red-haired witcher, “just imagine how it’ll freak Geralt out when he finds out.”

Lambert lets out a delighted laugh. “Fuck, I wanna be there when it happens.”

Jaskier can’t make any promises of the sort, so he says nothing to that. Instead, he asks, “Do we have a deal, then?”

“We’ll see.”

Lambert’s reserve didn’t make sense at that moment but Jaskier almost wishes he didn’t find out why the witcher was so cautious about his enthusiasm.

It turns out the language is a demonic creation. Lambert starts explaining some basic words and phrases to him and it already makes Jaskier’s head spin – there are so many forms and conjugations that Jaskier’s task of achieving fluency in that damned tongue suddenly appears almost too daunting. Almost.

He still wants to see the look on Geralt’s bloody beautiful face.

Lambert lets Jaskier join him on the Path for a few weeks. Throughout that time, he teaches Jaskier a bit more, especially how to read in the language. The wonderful thing about it is that, once he knows all the rules of pronunciation, he can read everything out loud. The dreadful thing is that the pronunciation itself is so tough and tongue-twisting that it may as well be a form of diabolical punishment inflicted upon Jaskier for all the transgressions he committed.

Lambert laughs when he voices his frustrations. “Przyzwyczaisz się.” You’ll get used to it, the witcher answers, his voice producing the mad consonant clusters with ease.

“I doubt it,” Jaskier grumbles under his breath.

The two of them part ways as Jaskier pays for Lambert’s services with a song. Jaskier saw the wolf witcher take down a vampire in a truly spectacular manner, so it was no hardship. After Lambert leaves, Jaskier starts learning on his own. Whenever Geralt hunts, he reads out loud from his copy of the bestiary (and how Geralt never overhears it is truly beyond him. Melitele likes him calling upon her tits so frequently, it seems). He tries to decipher the words in the book using all knowledge he has, translating some more passages. He and Lambert also exchange letters but Jaskier fails at writing in the tongue miserably. The last one he wrote returns to him with a multitude of Lambert’s corrections and a short note from the witcher himself:

"Cały list do przepisania, skowroneczku." The whole letter needs rewriting, little lark.

Jaskier huffs at the nickname, ruffling his figurative feathers in indignation. Although a lark’s voice is beautiful, very much so, its plumage is too plain. Jaskier could never. He would be a blackbird at the very least. Or a siskin. A bullfinch, preferably. If Jaskier was honest, a peacock would best fit to describe his exterior, but the sounds peacocks make aren’t pleasant, so he would be willing to settle on some colourful songbird.

Damn Lambert, in any case. The witcher knows far too well how to rile him up. It’s a bit unnerving.

"Skowronek to nie jak ja." Lark doesn’t sound like me, Jaskier answers in the next letter.

"Rzeczywiście, tak ładnie nie śpiewasz." True, your singing isn’t that pretty, Lambert writes back.  

Damn him indeed. Jaskier responds to that comment with a simple, efficient “fuck you”, to which Lambert replies “chciałbyś” you wish.

Jaskier can’t exactly deny this. He would certainly show his appreciation for Lambert’s fiery spirit if not for one little, tiny problem. The problem is so minuscule that Jaskier does everything in his power not to think about it. He seeks out lovers constantly and falls into the Countess de Stael’s arms almost every winter. She wants his attention now, as it’s a puppy love no longer, but during his stay at her palace, someone else always catches his attention. She kicks him out the moment she finds out. And so their romance goes, rinse and repeat.

No matter whether Jaskier winters at the Countess’s court, Oxenfurt, or some other place, he always devotes much of his free time to search for any book containing the Witcher tongue, as Jaskier started calling it. There isn’t much anywhere, and Lambert’s letters are few and far in between. Jaskier can feel himself getting stagnant in his learning and he can’t afford it. Not now, after six years of gargantuan effort that he’s put in already. Not when Geralt sometimes says something to him in that quiet, warm voice, and he still doesn’t understand.

Jaskier seems to enjoy more of Melitele’s blessing than he really should because, just when he’s getting desperate, there’s a godsend dropped on his way on a lovely spring day.

Quite literally dropped, since that witcher falls from a tree Jaskier’s about to walk under as he’s on his way to find Geralt. There’s a cat medallion around the witcher’s neck, and his body is gravely injured. He’s unconscious and Jaskier takes the liberty to use his witcher potions to help him not die. After he finally opens his eyes the next day, he introduces himself as Aiden.

It takes Aiden two more days to stand back on his feet. Soon after he manages that, Jaskier makes him trip when he speaks in the Witcher tongue to him, and the poor Cat witcher actually falls to the ground when Jaskier mentions Lambert. Sensing some story there, he sticks by Aiden’s side for a week or two. They make fast friends and promise to write to each other frequently.

Aiden’s letters are just what Jaskier needs to improve. The witcher is more expansive than Lambert and a touch flirty, which is perfect. As their correspondence goes on, Jaskier grows to like him only more and more. Not that much, though; he’s still stuck in the merry old mess of admiration and friendly affection getting out of hand. At least he’s not the only one – the story that Aiden and Lambert share is there in the letters, between the lines, and Jaskier is clever enough to see it.

Jaskier and Aiden meet for a drink in Novigrad once. When they’re deep into their cups, they start whining about their predicament.

“Cholerne wilki.” Damned wolves, Aiden grumbles.

“Cholerne wilki.” Damned wolves, Jaskier agrees wholeheartedly.

Ten years of learning the Witcher tongue have passed when Jaskier finds Geralt fishing for a djin in the lake near Rinde. He’s known Geralt for sixteen years now, so it takes him exactly one moment to see through the sorry excuse of insomnia. Destiny can’t be trifled with like that, he knows, so he doesn’t let it happen.

When Jaskier sings his friend to sleep, Geralt wonders about deserving him, that silly witcher. As if it wasn’t Jaskier who could only dream of deserving Geralt. As if Jaskier wasn’t a cheater, a homewrecker and a bastard who shouldn’t even deserve to look into those warm, gold eyes that allow a peek into the heart of gold.

As they meet Yennefer, the chemistry between her and Geralt is so strong that Jaskier can almost see the sparkles fly. Jaskier holds his breath all throughout their stay in Rinde. After they leave and nothing happens, there’s no relief. Now the witcher and the sorceress can get together any time and Jaskier turns bitter at the ripe, sweet age of thirty-four.

He lets go of many things after that. The silly affair with the Countess, caring about what the educated think about his works. He lives, breathes and grows, at last, fuelled by the one thing that he’s driven by best – sheer, absolute spite. Jaskier’s learnt the Witcher tongue out of spite (among other motives that he refuses to think about), and out of spite he will survive now, no matter how much he worries about a purple-eyes sorceress being such a great match for the White Wolf that even he wants to write a ballad about it.

Jaskier doesn’t ask, of course, and Geralt doesn’t say. They keep travelling together and Jaskier basks in the glory of knowing exactly what Geralt says about him when the witcher thinks he doesn’t understand. It’s wildly satisfying indeed but only up to a point – until the day Geralt calls him beautiful. Jaskier accepts the compliment with a smile, since it is the truth after all, but he can’t trust his voice to answer. He tries to fight the idiotic hope blooming in his chest and blames the warmth in Geralt’s gaze on the firelight. He reminds himself that Geralt doesn’t see him that way because it’s only women that the witcher’s ever been interested in. Life goes on.

Then his world crashes around him as he hears the words about love leaving Geralt’s mouth. That is when he can’t hold it in anymore and his secret is out. Or both his secrets, really.

It’s so freeing that he’s heady. Or maybe the giddiness can be all on Geralt. Or perhaps on the fact that, when Jaskier bares his heart in the Witcher tongue, it touches the witcher’s heart to its very core. He can feel it, in the way Geralt clings to him, and he already knows he won’t find any words to describe it properly in any language he knows.

That's how he knows it's something worth living and loving for - it means too much for words.

***

A/N: Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it! This fic is also available on AO3. Part 3 is coming, hopefully soon. It will be a 5+1 kind of thing about Geralt and Jaskier using the language. 

Part 3

[thepilotanon]

a happily married man.

I wanted to expand a little bit more of Flip being married, and how he would behave as a husband around his wife. Since, in this short, Ron would have already known of Flip’s wife, I thought it would be fun for him to try and get some stories (advice, hint-hint) from our favorite Detective and have a trip down memory lane! I also tried to look up and imagine what a high schooler/young adult Flip Zimmerman would be like, looking up 50s/60s fashion and...I went to town. Please let me know if you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

warning: old school standards, religious discrimination, my choppy-ass attempt to write german.

Flip caught the phone ringing while buttoning his flannel, picking up the line and cradling it between his cheek and shoulder while fixing his sleeves properly. It was only ten to six in the morning, and he was on his way out the door to head down to the precinct for another regular day at the office - although, he wasn’t expecting any calls to come right before he would head off to work.

“Zimmerman house,” he spoke, still a bit tired, checking his pockets for his keys. “This is Flip speaking.”

“Philip, what have I said about speaking so grouchy on the phone? You’re going to scare anyone away who tries to call you!” This voice, for Flip, was all too familiar. Scrunching his face in displeasure, he silently panicked before standing straight with a quiet sigh. “Is that any way to speak to your mother when she calls her only child?”

“No, Ma, it’s not,” Flip answered accordingly, running his hand down his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to head out the door for work. Why are you callin’ so early in the morning? Figured you would call sometime this weekend, or after dinner.”

“What’s wrong with me calling? I’m trying to get ahold of Alice,” his mother explained plain as day, and Flip raised a curious brow at this new discovery. 

“Why do you want to talk to Alice?” Flip narrowed his eyes, turning to see his lovely wife scuffle out to the kitchen. Seeing her yawning and wrap her robe tighter around herself, Alice blinked sleepily as she came closer to her husband, into his waiting arm. Once she rest her head on his shoulder, Flip held her close and gave her a quick good-morning kiss to the top of her head, making her hum softly.

Flip’s mother huffed, and he could resist the quick, naughty grin to flash on his face when Alice looked up to him with a curious stare. “What does it matter to you, junior? I can’t talk to my daughter in-law every once in a while for simple lady-talk? It’s been a while since that sweetheart and I had time to ourselves. I have so much to talk to her, about that recipe she told me about, and that dress we picked out together the last time we went out to town - you know the one, it’s green with -!”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna hand you to her, alright?” Flip quickly stopped his mother when he stole a look to the clock hanging over the oven. Pulling the phone away from his ear, Flip was quick to wrap his arm around Alice’s waist and practically lifted her up a bit to seal her lips in a deep kiss, making her squeak cutely as he gently demanded her attention.

Alice managed herself to smile into the kiss and held his face with both of her soft hands, kissing him back as he gently settled her back to her feet. Fixing his collar properly, along with the gold chain of his most treasured accessory (not counting his wedding band) of the Star of David, Flip then gave her lips another kiss, then her cheek, and then her forehead before handing her the phone.

“She’s your problem now, baby doll,” Flip teased with a wink as she rolled her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Alice laughed softly, and he kissed her head just once more time. She made a face at him, making him pinch her nose before taking off to the door. Waving to him with her fingers, Alice brought the phone to her ear and kept her smile on her face as she spoke with more energy to the older woman waiting on the other line. “Good morning, Mom, it’s Alice. How are you doing this morning? I - yes, I miss you, too.”

Hearing his mother exclaim happily on the other line, Flip knew he was safe to leave his home and make it to work on time, all thanks to his lovely wife’s assistance. He will have to thank her in his special way when he gets home tonight. As much as he loved his mom with all of his heart, he couldn’t risk getting into trouble for being a few minutes late with Chief Bridges again. It happens every time either his mom or dad call or see him and Alice in person; always wanting to spare a few more minutes to be with their beloved son and daughter in-law. As much as Flip has tried for so long to get his father to retire and find more time to tend to some hobbies with his mom, Flip knew he inherited his stubbornness from somewhere.

Not to mention both of his parents just really, really love and adore his little wife and like to hog all her attention from him.

To him, Flip always enjoyed seeing Alice interact with his parents, ever since they were dating in high school. Seeing his dad laugh over a story of Flip falling asleep during history, or even during study hall with Alice trying to tutor him with the response ‘that’s my boy’ echoing throughout the house. Or, how his mother would scold Flip while giving Alice all her attention when she asked for an honest “report” of how his test scores have been, and then praising the young woman for doing extra credit, despite already being the best in class. His parents made Alice feel at home, and it felt important to him to have someone so special in his life (and someone he wanted to marry someday, at the time) to feel accepted by his family...

Rather, in comparison to how Alice’s parents reacted to meeting Flip.

It was when they both graduated high school together, a month after the ceremony, in fact, and it was surprisingly hot that sunny Saturday in the venue center. It was in a different side of town Flip wasn’t completely well-known with, with too many people in fancy outfits and shiny cars. The venue was huge: a properly kept and cleaned venue with patios and gazebos with white-clothed tables and pretty glasses; waiters and staff working around before the final moments before they open up the lines to their financially successful visitors. The sky is blue and really, really hot -!

“Flip?”

Spinning around from behind the neatly-trimmed hedge he was (not hiding) by, he took a deep breath when he saw his sweet, sweet Alice in her pretty baby-blue sundress with her hair done in soft curls with her ribbon tied perfectly. His beautiful baby doll was never too fond of using hairsprays and using a teasing comb to create unwanted knots, unlike the big fashion fads and popular girls back at school try to replicate. Seeing her just as she is, looking up to him with her bright eyes made his heart do funny things in his chest.

God, he was so in love with her.

“Are you alright, hot shot? Everyone is going in and getting ready to be seated,” she informed him, obviously leaving out another addition of the obvious for his own sake.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Flip shrugged, clapping his hand and rubbing his palms together for no reason.

She didn’t believe him, her smile perking more on her lips. “Do you need a smoke? I’m sure I can ask for a lighter -?”

“No!” he yelped, suddenly feeling his ears burn. Approaching her and taking her hands with both of his, kissing her knuckles quickly, he tried to play it off with a shrug. “No, m’not gonna go in with a cigarette dangling from my mouth, no! Why would I need to smoke, anyway?”

“Because you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” Flip broke eye contact with her, knowing he was caught red handed. “I’m not going smoke before going in, okay? I don’t want you feelin’ dizzy when I hold your hand.” 

A soft chuckle slipped from her as she pulled her hands out of his sweaty palms, only to hook her fingers through his belt loops and get on her toes to press a kiss to his freshly shaved jaw. “I know smoking helps you calm down, Flip, and I doubt we’re going to be cuddling during a brunch for me to inhale smoke. Don’t try to act like you’re not nervous about meeting my parents,” she told him sweetly, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “If you want to be a detective, you need to work a little bit more on your acting skills. You’re going to be under a lot of pressure, you know.”

Sighing, Flip dropped his shoulders and rest his hands on her back, hugging her close to him. “Yeah, under lots of pressure…”

“I know, I know.” Patting his chest, Alice propped her chin to look at him with a sort of sad gaze. “Dating for most of high school, and now you’re finally meeting my mom and dad - it’s ridiculous how long we’ve put this off.”

“Well, more like they’ve put this off from us for a long time,” he gruffed under his breath, which caused her to sigh, slow and long. “Hey, I’m sorry, but you and I know it’s been us who put more effort into trying to make it happen for the past few years, baby doll.”

“I’m not arguing, I completely agree. My dad has never really been social for anyone outside of his family or close friends.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

Humming her laugh, Alice got on her toes while tugging on the collar of his shirt for his attention. Flip willingly brought his head back and kissed her lightly, making her not to ruin her soft colored lips. “They will love you, Flip. You’re charming and wonderful, not to mention smart and the man of my dreams,” she listed off with a sweet smile, looking at him with pure joy. Being complimented by someone who had him wrapped around her little finger, he couldn’t hold back his own bashful smile back to her, his cheeks burning. “They will have to love you, anyway. If your folks can love me and want to see us happy, mine should be able to see all the things that’s wonderful about you, too.”

Pressing a soft kiss to her hair, he took a deep breath before nodding. “You know what’s amazing about you? You make everything so much less scary. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You would be hiding by a bush, pacing back and forth until someone starts to think you’re doing something suspicious,” she told him, making him snort again and earn another kiss to her head. “Come on, you know I don’t like having you with an empty stomach. They make really good French toast and ham that I think you’ll like.”

“Doubt anything can ever beat you or my ma’s cooking, but I’ll believe you.”

Flip knew from the first day that his girlfriend, Alice von Schonburg, came from a very upper-class family. Her father owned a private candy company that distributes between the US and Canada, as well as working to have business across the sea. He also co-owned some grocery stores around Colorado, thus making a very profitable income and a well-known aristocratic member to Colorado Spring’s high society. While Flip knew of his girlfriend’s rather expensive lifestyle and upbringing, she was much more soft and kind to anyone she meets and caught hearts of everyone around her.

Her father was not the same.

He was definitely a hard man; steely, bright eyes in the same color as his daughter, but held no friendly sparkle. His stares were more cold and unsettling, even when he was having “friendly” conversation with another group of people. He was taller than his wife, dressed in a finely pressed suit and a tie that matched his daughter’s ribbon and his wife’s sundress (as did other parents with their young adult children), and had a cane to support the left side of his weight. He had graying hairs and a thick mustache that could easily hide any sort of scowl or smile...if he ever did. Even seeing him across the back patio of the venue made Flip feel like he was choking on the collar of the button up dress shirt he borrowed from his father.

Even so, Alice held on to his sweaty hand and guided him through the small crowd of people - most of who also swam in their riches, paying the two no mind.

“Father! Mother!” Alice called out, catching both their attention, as well as the two other adults they were conversing with. Bringing her boyfriend over, Alice gave them all a bright, sunny smile underneath the canopy next to the tables filled with assorted glass drinks. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry to interrupt.”

“Alice, looking lovely as ever!” The other man with blond hair and thick glasses offered them both a smile, raising his drinking glass in a greeting to her. “Good to see you, sweetie. I should leave you to your table, hm? Gotta get myself a good spot with Nancy. Good to see you, Al. Elsa, good luck on your next project with Susie.”

“Do not mention any’ting about Nancy’s gloves, Bruce,” the other man, around the same age as Alice’s parents, with a slight accent. “She does not want to think about how her nails habe been ruined from habing to do housevork.”

The man, Bruce, gave off a cheeky smile before taking off. Alice clears her throat once more as she smiled to the remaining three. 

“Mother, Father, I want to introduce you to Philip Zimmerman, my boyfriend,” she introduced proudly, making Flip’s heart sputter from her voice. She looked and sound so happy to finally introduce him to her family. “And, Flip, my mother, Elsa, and my father, Alphonse,” she told him with gentle eyes to him, her hands holding his arm with comfort. “And, this is also Otto - he’s like my uncle. He and Father have known each other since they were very young.”

“It’s absolutely vonderful to finally meet Alice’s dear Süsser,” Otto said with a big grin, reaching a hand out for Flip to shake. The young graduate jumped and was quick to take Otto’s hand, shaking strongly, just like he practiced with his dad for hours last night. It seemed to work, since Otto chuckled when they broke the greeting. “Knew Mäuschen liked de tall ones, too. Very tall.”

“Onkel Otto,” Alice scolded under her breath, her cheeks immediately going bright when the man chuckled again.

Seeing how her parents didn’t verbally respond, Flip swallowed as he nervously smiled and dipped his head in greeting. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said quickly, seeing how her mother, Elsa, gave him a painted smile. When she held out her gloved hand, Flip was extra careful to cradle her fingers within his palm and bow. “Alice always tells me amazing stories about you two, and all you do in Colorado Springs. She was telling me about this charity event you’re planning in the fall.”

“Yes, I’m working with my ladies group to help raise money for a Christmas event for the children’s hospital. We want to make a big dinner and give grand presents, so the parents don’t need to worry as much,” Elsa answered brightly, seeming to like how Flip took note of her hobbies. Flip noticed that she didn’t have such a strong accent like Otto, but there was a little bit of a German touch when it came to her “v”s sounding like “f”s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Philip.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he blurted, unexpectedly. Attempting to fix his little mistake, Flip straightened his spine and held his hand out to Alice’s father, offering him a smile. “And it’s great to finally meet you, sir - Mr. Alphonse, or, uhm…”

Flip watched, in what felt like slow-motion, as Alphonse von Schonburg looked at his offered hand with a sort of disturbed twitch in his bright eye. Then, just like seeing a fly in his line of sight, the older man shifted his weight with his cane and looked elsewhere, seeming to look at his daughter. “Prefer Herr von Schonburg.”

Dropping his hand back down, wiping his sweaty palm on his dress pants, Flip did his best to keep his cool as Alice have his other arm a reassuring squeeze. Stealing a glance, Flip could see how she was trying to tell him with her eyes that this was normal of her dad’s behavior. Elsa didn’t seem to do anything about her husband’s remark, but Otto didn’t hesitate to sent his old friend a short glare before looking to the two young adults with a big smile.

“Shall ve take a seat, und get our trinkts, ja?” Otto suggested, reaching to pat Flip on the back with an encouraging laugh. “Philip, you und Alice both still too young for mimosa or vine, but ve make it dry! Alice, dis boy likes ham?”

“Flip likes ham.” Alice brought back her sparkling smile towards her uncle, letting her boyfriend escort and guide her to where Otto had reserved their seats at a covered table on a wooden patio deck. “I made him the ham sandwiches you liked so much, from the picnic, and there wasn’t any left for him to take home. I was telling him about how they have good ham here, before we came in.”

The table was arranged in the shade and was decorated with white tablecloth; shiny silverware and numerous plates, napkins folded into what Flip thought were boats at each placement of the rectangular-shaped table. It looked like it could have fit an easy amount of almost ten people, but there were exactly five chairs and five arrangements. Flip thought it was very fancy, similar to his family’s Thanksgiving dinners at his grandmother’s house...

“Ah-ha!” Otto gave a loud, belly laugh, seeming to not care when some of the attendees look in their direction. Elsa tittered to herself by Otto’s gesture, allowing her husband to escort her to the other end of the long table. “Though, I must ask, vhere de name...Flip, not Philip?”

Flip first held Alice’s hand in one while the other pulled out a chair in the corner, letting her sit down first and pushing her in. “It’s - uh, it’s a nickname I’ve had since I was little, and it just stuck to everyone I went to school with,” he answered honestly, making sure his girlfriend was comfortable first before going to the seat right next to her - until Otto caught his arm.

“No nonsense, young man, you are a guest und shall sit at the other head of the table. Come here, still next to Mäuschen!” Otto commanded, dragging Flip to sit directly across from Alice’s father, who took his seat and watched with unreadable eyes. “Perfekt! Und I sit here, then ve vill habe better conversation. Tell me more of de nickname.”

Flip felt a little too warm from the seating arrangement and being put on the spotlight, but seeing how Elsa and Otto genuinely seemed to be interested in it, he took a deep breath. Feeling Alice’s Mary Jane press against his large foot, he felt a little bit more confident. “My folks sent me to summer camps, especially when I was in the scouts, and I had a habit of flipping off the docks into the lakes. My cabin buddies started calling me Flip, and then, by dinner, the whole camp was calling me that. A lot of the guys I went to camp with went to our school, so I guess they made sure it’d spread.”

Otto chuckled warmly at the story. “Of course, vhat kind of friends vould they be if they habe not reminded people of your big talent,” he commented, glancing to Elsa and Alphonse with a cheeky smile. “Vonderful to know that camp traditions of nicknames still exist.”

“Well, Philip, perhaps someday we will see your amazing flips into a lake or pool,” Elsa offered before Otto opened a can of worms that wasn’t appropriate quite yet. “So, please, tell us: what are your parents like? Surely, they’re wonderful people, if they allow such a polite boy in scouts and camps.”

“My father is a mechanic. He’s very proud whenever he works with cars or machinery,” Flip said fondly.

“Zimmerman...as in Ackerman and Zimmerman Auto Shop?” Alphonse, surprisingly, spoke up.

Flip was quick to nod. “Yeah, yeah, It’s been a sort of family business with the Ackermans,” he answered eagerly. “My father and a close friend of his started it way before I was born.”

“How wonderful.” Elsa was giving an honest smile, which was surprising to Flip, never thinking such a laboring, dirt job like working under and inside cars would be appealing. Then, he thought, of how it was in the family and it was obvious that there was a profitable income. He didn’t take it to heart. “And, your mother? Does she work, too, or is she a housewife?”

“She’s a nurse at the local hospital. Maybe, if you’re interested, Mrs. von Schonburg, she would like to volunteer for your charity plan? I’m sure her and other nurses would like to help with the children’s hospital…”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! And, please, dear, call me Elsa,” she responded joyously, making Flip smile back to her.

“Ackerman und Zimmerman are strong names,” Alphonse suddenly spoke up, interrupting whatever else his wife was going to say next. Flip saw from the corner of his eye how Alice’s lips fell to a hard line and looked her father’s way. He couldn’t see her expression, but her shoulders were tense. “Common Deutsch names. Say, vhich church do you attend vith your family?”

“Father!” Alice suddenly leaned in, her voice thick and testy. “Das ist -!”

“Schatzchen,” Alphonse grounded back, his eyes piercing at Alice. Flip managed to slip his hand under the tablecloth and tugged on her fingers, letting her hold his hand back with a tight grip. “Do not interrupt, it is unbecoming.”

Alice eventually leaned back, keeping her gaze down and her hold on his hand tightened even more. Flip brushed his thumb over her knuckles. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her head, like he always did, but he knew he couldn’t…

“I don’t attend a church with my family,” he answered, strong and brave in his tone. “My family and I attend the big synagogue that’s near the city hall and community college.”

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table, even when the waiter came to deliver glasses of iced water, even though Alice mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. Alphonse stared with a stoic expression at Flip, and Flip himself couldn’t stop from staring back. Yes, he was scared and ready to shit his pants, but he wasn’t going to let go of something - someone he really loved, all because of his family’s belief. Even Alice told him that she wanted him to always take a stand to anyone who would try and see his religion as a negative, when it wasn’t. Alice adored that about Flip and his family, always grateful to be accepted into the Zimmerman household and being taught of their customs and traditions, and it made Flip grateful…

Although, now, Flip was feeling negative with just the look on Alphonse von Schonburg’s face.

“Ein Juden,” he said slowly, making Alice give her father a hard look.

“Yes, sir,” Flip stood straighter, trying to feel tall and confident in himself, “I’m Jewish.”

Flip swore he was watching the man’s nose grow red, but he didn’t say anything more as the trolley of the brunch arrived to their spot, the waiter smiling and unknown to what was going on. He began serving the dishes, and Alphonse simply took his folded napkin and snapped it open a little bit too hard. Elsa was a lot more gentle, but still uncomfortably silent all the while their plates were served first. Flip was grateful that Alice refused to let go of his hand from underneath the table, and was surprised with Otto leaned back, unceremoniously, on his chair.

Smiling.

“I’ve only seen your synagogue from the outside, yet the arrangement of de stained glass is very, very detailed,” Otto said, taking his napkin and ready to tuck it into his shirt. “Be vonderful to see de sun shine inside. Und de gardens outside is alvays lovely to smell on valks in de spring. You go often, Philip?”

“My mother tries to get me to go once a week, although it is a little bit harder now that I’m going to the police academy. She tries to go for every service, or she helps bring them to the hospital, for her patients.”

“How vonderful. My mutter vas de same vith her church,” Otto responded affectionately. “Mittwoch, Samtag und Sonntag, every veek. Soon as I got old enough, I did vhatever I could do to not vear de church pants - terrible stitch dat rode up my -!”

“Otto!” Elsa bursted into a genuine laugh. “Mind your manners, you old hound!”

Otto gave her a cheeky laugh and then reached over to pat Flip on the back, as if they shared a secret joke that no one knew about. Once the plates have been served and the waiter reminded the table to call for anything else, everyone seemed to try and begin eating with ease.

“Thought Juden do not eat pork,” Alphonse blurted out casually, causing both Elsa and Alice to freeze their utensils.

Flip, at this point, didn’t hesitate to use his knife to cut his piece of ham into smaller bits. “Some Jewish people don’t eat pork, and some do, depending who it is. My parents allow us to eat pork, unless it’s for a specific holiday, then we do our best to respect Kashrut.” It wasn’t necessary, but Flip took a generous piece of ham and ate it, swallowing and then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Again, it’s different for everyone within the community. It’s a lot more complexed, but I won’t bore you with them, sir.”

“But you had Alice’s sandwiches before,” Otto questioned. He grinned when Flip nodded with some sort of enthusiasm, despite having his mouth full. “Mäuschen is blessed in the kitchen, I say. Been to New York, Chicago, Italy, France und all, but never had the best ham sandwich until Alice made me hers.”

“Alice makes the best sweets, too,” Flip willingly added in, looking to his girlfriend and squeezing her hand. Seeing her roll her eyes slightly and try to hide her embarrassed smile with her fork, Flip snickered. “Whenever she helped with our school events, all her stuff is always sold out. I think she has Betty Crocker running for her money.”

“And you say you’re in the police academy, Philip?” Elsa asked after sipping from her glass. “What made you want to go for the police force?”

“It sounds childish, but...I wanted to be a superhero, when I was really little. I think I’ve always just wanted to make people feel safe, save the day once in a while… I always looked to cops being the first step to becoming a superhero growing up,” he confessed with a half-smile. “I’ll say it’s a lot of work, but it’s pretty great, especially with the support I have. I know it’s going to be all worth it.”

Looking at Alice, the young couple caught their eyes and smiled warmly to each other. Flip knew he wouldn’t have gotten as far as being accepted into the academy without her help. With studying at the library and checking the public records to learn from solved cases and the manuals he was recommended to look over, Alice always made sure to quiz him, get him coffee and food and encouraging kisses. Flip’s parents were also supporting his career choice, too, but it was really Alice who was making sure that he kept his focus on his studies whenever it was necessary. She always made sure to get him back on track when he would rather throw the towel in. Alice never gave up on him.

Elsa and Otto immediately caught on and seemed to have a positive reaction to it, seeing how honest and appreciative he was for Alice and all the help she’s done for him.

“Das mag ich nicht.” 

Flip watched Alice’s face suddenly transform from happy and in love, to pure sadness, releasing a long sigh as Elsa reacted to Alphonse in shock. She was saying something to Alphonse, Flip had no idea word-for-word, but he was sure she was scolding him for what he said, igniting a quiet argument between husband and wife. Flip doesn’t speak a word of German but, thanks to Alice, he has learned bits and pieces whenever he would ask her. The many times she would mumble something under her breath, usually when she was frustrated with something and didn’t want to openly curse in front of others… But, besides that, Flip had a good idea what Alphonse was responding so negatively about.

Seeing Alice trying not to cry out of frustration towards her father, doing her best not to cause a scene, Flip completely dismissed his own brunch and focused on his girlfriend. Otto also stopped eating and looked to Alice worryingly.

“Flip Zimmerman, come back to Earth, please!”

Coming out of his trip down Memory Lane, Flip looked over to see his partner and friend, Ron Stallworth, giving him a pointed look to the two coffee mugs in each hand. Sighing, Flip kicked off his feet off his desk and thanked Ron for getting him his fourth refill. He tried his best to ignore Ron’s stare at him, watching him take a few big gulps and give his friend the stink-eye, but that only made ‘the rookie’ grin.

“What’s got Flipper’s head rolling today, huh?” Ron asked, all cheeky and teasing as usual when it was a slow day in the office. “Got your head in the clouds, probably thinking about Playmates?”

“Hardly,” Jimmy’s voice cut in from the other side of him, making Flip sigh. “The only lil bunny you’ll ever catch this man thinkin’ is his wife. Did she pack you any lunch today? I’m starving.”

“Nah, I was hoping you’d treat me to lunch down the street from the last time ya ate my food,” Flip snipped back with a friendly smirk, making Jimmy snicker.

“Anyway, as I was sayin’,” Ron broke the incoming banter that usually happened around this time between Flip and Jimmy, “I was trying to ask you how you proposed.”

“What? ‘Proposed’?” Flip’s face twisted in confusion, looking to his friend with narrowed eyes. “What, you planning on proposin’ to Patrice, after all this time?”

“I didn’t - if you were paying attention to what I was saying before, you would know I was askin’ because I was just curious!” Ron was quick to respond, making Flip slowly turn in his chair to face his partner more directly, just seeing him getting flustered. “Y’know, nothing’s going on here, so why not make small talk; always wondered how ya made the move to whisk a nice lady like Alice into marrying you, anyway.”

“I’d say it’s personal business, but -”

“Oh, this big guy did it in the most public place possible. At a big-ass dinner party her ma was hosting at some fancy as hell arts museum,” Jimmy interrupted again. “He gave her ol’ man a heart attack when she said ‘yes’!”

“What, Alice’s daddy don’t like lumberjacks?” Ron earned a playful punch to his arm from his friend, making sure not to spill his own mug of coffee.

Flip shook his head. “No, he didn’t like the fact that his little girl was marrying a Jew.” When Jimmy went quiet and Ron did a double-take, Flip shrugged his shoulders as casual as possible. “Her father was the only one from his immediate family to move from Germany, her mom was born and raised here, but her own parents were from Berlin, if I remember right.”

“So, wait a minute,” Ron stopped him and took a seat on the edge of Flip’s desk. “So, you, a Jewish man, married to Alice, who’s...not Jewish? Assuming she didn’t convert -”

“She didn’t.” Flip shrugged. “Not a big deal. It’s like I’ve said: never been really big into that part of me, being Jewish, and Alice wasn’t big on her family’s beliefs either. That also blew her parents out of the water when she said she wanted to just get a civil marriage, instead of a big church wedding.”

“But, Alice’s ol’ man ain’t a -”

“No. Just doesn’t...like my kind. The way he was brought up, I guess. I never really asked, but Alice doesn’t know much either. Never got to be in the military, or ever into politics, really, just doesn’t like me.”

There was a long period of silence between the three, allowing Flip to finish his mug of coffee before it got too cold for his liking. Not enjoying the tension that was coming from his two buddies, the tall man cleared his throat before grabbing a cigarette from the carton next to his phone. “But, yeah, like Jimmy said - I knew I wasn’t going to get any blessing, so I decided to be a cocky little shit, and propose to her in front of a lot of rich, high-and-mighty people in one of the nicest suit-and-tie junctions in Colorado Springs history.”

“Certainly made history with driving a man to curse and raise Hell at a silent auction, but alright,” Jimmy slipped in, making Flip bark out a laugh and try to force him to fall back by kicking behind Jimmy’s propped legs. “What! You know what you did was your talk of the first week ya came here.”

The rest of the day carried on like usual, Flip filling out boring paperwork and answering calls. It was only a breather for him once he punched out and stepped outside the precinct, catching Ron digging for his keys in his coat pockets. Flip startled him into a quick jump, making Flip snort a laugh.

“Don’t go sneaking on me, you damn Flipper,” Ron groaned before finally finding his keys in his breast pocket. “Did you finish the report to send upstairs yet?”

“Yeah, dropped it off on the front desk.”

“Alright. Cool, that’s good,” Ron mumbled, nodding and fumbling with his keys. Flip watched him with a knowing look, head tilting to the side as he propped his jacket over his shoulder.

“What did you want to ask, Ron…”

“What? What?” Ron stammered before meeting Flip’s stare. “I don’t…”

“Look, if you don’t ask me what you want, it’s going to bug the shit outta you, and I don’t like doing that to my friends. You know, Alice would kill me for not being open with you, when you’re not hurting anyone,” Flip told him, raising a brow. “You wanted to ask me something earlier, I’m giving you the chance now.”

Ron took a deep breath, looking around for a second before summoning the courage for himself. “It’s just - you know, you say Alice’s old man never gave you a blessing, and you didn’t convert to either religion. Well, I mean, when you said that Alice’s father is from Germany, it just -? I’m just… How do you two make it work?

“Anytime I see you and Alice together, you two just make yourself to be the happiest married couple in the whole world. Not saying you’re not, but, when you look at it in that detail,” Ron made a gesture with his hands, his keys jingling in his palm. “You came from very different backgrounds, and I guess just seeing how your lady accepts everyone, with no second thought, despite…”

Flip leaned against the chilly brick, popping a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it before he drove home. “When we were in high school, I never brought up the fact that I was Jewish when we first started dating. It wasn’t until my mom begged me to bring her home to meet the family,” he started out. “Again, my folks didn’t make it a big deal to raise me Jewish, but my mom had our house decorated; we had a mezuzah, family portraits that were taken in tradition ways back, and Star of David. I already knew of Alice’s family. People talked at our school, of who’s parents were who. Alice was that kind of popular, pretty-girl who everyone talked about and knew about.

“I didn’t want her walking into my house and - I don’t know - think how we all thought German people thought of us, or something,” he laughed at the memory, seeing it clearly as if it was yesterday when he and Alice were teenagers again.

Sitting in the library, her trying have him memorize his history notes for the upcoming test he had to retake, and he could only just stare like the lovesick boy he was. He’d tell her that his mother invited her over to join them for dinner on Friday, remembering how she brightened up and tried to contain her excitement of getting to meet his parents. She asked him what she should wear, if she should bring something for his mother to impress her - flowers, a dessert or maybe a box of candy for his mother to bring to the hospital, and another for his father to bring to the shop. Flip could see himself trying to calm her down, holding her hand…

Then, getting unsure of himself.

“Then, knowing her, she could tell that something was wrong. She always does, I don’t know how she does, but she asked me what was running through my mind. I couldn’t hide anything, so I told her.” Flip swallowed, remembering how he felt, that sort of pressure of waiting for a response from her. Alice listened to him when he said ‘I’m actually Jewish’, and blinked, seeming to process it. The next memory made him actually snicker next to Ron, who was listening almost like how Alice always did: intentive, curious and respectful. “Next thing I know, she just smiled and said ‘okay’.” Flip shrugged, his face splitting into a huge grin. “Okay? What did she think of that? Honest opinion, because I’m about ready to either crap my pants or have my head pop off. She told me that all she really cared for was me being comfortable and happy with her. You know what she thought about me being Jewish, when I asked her?”

Ron shook his head and Flip chuckled.

“When I asked her, she told me she thought it was really interesting and wanted to learn about what I knew. She just...wanted me to tell her more about myself, and didn’t judge anything that would have otherwise been weird to anyone else.” Flip shrugged again, his smile never leaving his face. “I asked her if she thought it was weird to date me, after that, and she gave me a look and snapped back with ‘why the hell would I think it’s weird? I think it’s amazing, and I want to know more!’ Something about how she snipped at me and then smiled like an angel got to me.”

“Is that when you figured you were going to marry her?” Ron asked, a knowing smirk on his face when Flip sighed, slow and long. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s when I knew.”

XXX.

It was dark out by the time Flip made it back home, but still earlier than usual for Flip’s rather packed to the last minutes of the days schedules. Seeing the lights on in the living room, even with the drapes closed, it felt welcoming and safe with the warm, yellow glow of the lights and the front yard light guiding him home to where he knew his beautiful, loving wife was waiting for him. Entering through the front door, announcing his arrival, Flip couldn’t help but grow still as an odd aroma overpowered his nose. He stopped immediately after taking off his shoes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and out of his mouth…

It smelled familiar, but not quite what he expected walking into his own house.

“Alice?” he called, hearing a shuffle coming from the kitchen and his wife cursing under her breath. Coming further through the living room to the wall hiding the kitchen and dining room around the corner, Flip caught Alice attempt to pluck something out of one of her little bread pans, only to drop it back with a hiss and suck her thumbs.

“Mmmm!” she whined loudly all while her thumbs in her mouth, then jumping at the sight of Flip at the corner. Popping them out, the pads of her thumbs red in irritation, Alice stared wide-eyed at him. “Flip! What are you doing home so early? You’re suppose to be still at the station!”

“I finished paperwork early, so Chief let us all go,” he explained, looking carefully between her and the little bread pans. They were the ones Alice usually made her chocolate-banana breads or little cakes in, but what they currently had cooling wasn’t anything he has seen her make before. The tops of whatever they looked braided in a way, with chunks of brown pieces of some mix spread on the top. It looked a bit too brown to be a regular cake or bread, making him wonder if Alice accidentally burned it.

Seeing him look at her baking, Alice peeped with a sliver of terror before scurrying to him, trying to push him out. “Don’t look at it! I messed up,” she rushed, unable to make the solid brick that is her husband to even budge. “You were suppose to come home later, after I clean everything up and started dinner to hide the smell -!”

He was careful to grab her wrists and bring her hands up. Holding her thumbs propped out to him, he kissed the irritated skin and then her palms, turning his head left and right each time before standing to look down to her.

“What are you trying to hide, baby doll? It’s not my birthday...is it?” Flip was terrible at remembering his own birthday, since he usually had other things in mind (but always remembered Alice’s birthday, or their wedding anniversary), but he was sure of himself that he still had some odd months until then. “You’re acting like you’re tryin’ to hide a body on me.”

Alice went red in the cheeks out of mere embarrassment, pouting so cutely at him to see her getting more bothered at being caught - with whatever she’s doing. “I was planning on surprising you with it, but now it’s all ruined. How is it that guys always walk in on surprises all the time? You know, your mother told me the story of how you always seem to ‘walk-in’ on her wrapping your birthday and holiday presents? Passover and Hanukkah, you had her routine down and -”

“You’re not answering me, honey.” Flip cupped her cheeks and squished them up, making her look like a chipmunk with too much food in its cheeks. He gave her an encouraging smirk and shook her head gently. “C’mon, what are you trying to do here?”

Alice huffed and puffed a bit, unable to meet his gaze as she caved in. “I’m trying to make your mother’s chocolate babka,” she confessed, and it all came together as he grinned.

“Is that why she called so goddamn early today?”

Nodding, Alice sunk her cheeks into his palms, seeming to try to look down. “I called her last week, asking if she would tell me her recipe, or where I can find a good one in magazines or books, for starting out,” she explained. “She said she’d call me as soon as she found hers, and we spent all morning rewriting it over the phone and double-checking. I honestly thought you would be home later, so I would have time to call her back before dinner to see what I did wrong.”

“Why’re you trying to hide it from me, Alice?”

“You mentioned a couple weeks back how you missed your mom’s chocolate babka, and I figured it was about time I tried to make something special to you, since your parents live a long ways away now,” she admitted, tugging his wrists to let go of her face and sighed. “I didn’t want to push your mother, since it always seemed so special in your family, but she was...really happy I asked. I just feel like I would have let her down by burning them, even with step-by-step instructions.”

Flip just hummed before reaching over to the still-hot pan, tearing off a decent chunk of the top. Before Alice could stop him, he shoved as much of the bread into his mouth; it was a good thing that his hands were callous enough to ignore the burn, and the fact that he always drank his coffee as hot as possible to be used to it in his mouth, and he just threw his head back and began chewing.

“Flip, you ass! Spit that out!” Alice hissed, trying to reach to the piece hanging immaturely out of his mouth, like a mother trying to take a hazard out of a toddler’s mouth...when the toddler happens to be over six feet tall. Flip was behaving like a bird trying to eat a chunk of burger whole. “I don’t want you to eat it when it’s all burned like that!”

Being able to chew and swallow the first bite and then start working on the remaining bit, making crumbs stick to his facial hair and sprinkle into the collar of his flannel. Alice tried to remain grumpy with him, but there was a smile on her face.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” she told him with a muffled laugh in her voice, shoving her face into his shoulder when he playfully patted her ass with his clean hand. She tried to brush the crumbs from his shirt while he finished eating with a grin on his face.

Once swallowing, Flip was quick to cup her face with his clean hand, squish her cheeks to pucker her lips and gave her a deep kiss. His wife made a noise, a cute one that reminded him of whenever he would tease her to get her into the mood, and he smiled against her mouth before breaking the kiss. He snickered at the sight of her trying to wipe the dark crumbs he stuck to her face with her sleeve.

“I don’t know what you were complaining about, babydoll, but this tastes pretty damn good to me,” Flip told her confidently, licking his lips before kissing along her cheek repeatedly. Hugging her in his arms, to prevent her from escaping, he hummed a chuckle when she eventually went limp in his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband who ruined the surprise I tried to make,” she sniffed with amusement, causing him to angle her face again to kiss her lips. Sighing against his mouth, she pulled back and he went back to nuzzling her neck with kisses and gentle touches. “I think I’m going to call Ma and ask her to show me how to do it properly. We should really have them visit for a weekend - the weather is suppose to be nice next month, and there’s going to be some community events that they would like -”

“You’re the most amazing woman in the whole damn world,” he said against her skin, squeezing her for a moment. “I love you so damn much.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to butter me up for, but it’s not working. I’m still upset you -”

He hushed her with a deep kiss, making her whine and have it fall into giggles when he didn’t let up. Rocking them both while he just gave her kisses and making her laugh when he used his teeth on the tickle spots on her pulse, making her shiver, Flip took a deep breath and let himself just feel at home. Feeling Alice snuggle her face into his shoulder, he knew he got her right where he wanted her.

“I still want to eat the rest of it,” he told her warmly, nuzzling his large nose into her hair lovingly. “I think it tastes pretty fuckin’ great.”

“It’s burnt, and I bet it doesn’t taste anything like your m -”

“Probably burnt because I have a smokin’ hot wife, and the babka couldn’t handle it.” This made them both laugh at his unusual corniness to the point that Flip snorted, only making Alice laugh harder against him at the whole situation. “I really do like it, Alice. I’m proud of you,” he told her honestly. He knew why she wanted it to be ‘perfect’, and why she was making this a big fuss. He knew his wife, and he watched her stare into his eyes, unshedding tears welling up in hers as she sniffed and smiled.

“Thank you…”

Flip smirked adoringly and wriggled himself against her. “And, I love you very, very much,” he told her, making her smile bashfully.

“I love you, too, hot shot. Very, very much...even though you ruined the surprise.”

“I can be surprised next time,” he promised her with a cheeky grin. “So, can I have another bite, or are we going to have to tango again?”

XXX.

taglist of buds: @ayatimascd @adamsnackdriver @babbushka @formerly-anonhamster @the-wayward-rose @ben-solo (please message if you would be interested in being added to the oneshot tags!)

So, I understand German pretty well, but I can not for the life of me speak/write it properly. I want to refine my speaking ability, even though I don’t use it for anything in my everyday life...I just find it fun. I like learning languages and learning phrases!

I figured, for Flip being a Jewish man and (possibly) marrying someone who would either be a) not Jewish, or, b) from of German ancestry (especially if they were first generation), would kinda show how he personally handles his own identity with his in-laws and how is ‘affects’ his marriage. In my opinion, I think anyone who would be with Flip wouldn’t look at him as any different or anything negative than the man they love him for, but would want to still be respectful in the same while.

I hope you enjoyed and will let me know what you thought! I really do appreciate feedback and knowing what you think. Thank you again for reading!!

[starwriterulia]

A Fervid Greeting

Chapter Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 7260

Chris was watching the bacon and eggs cook as Seungmin and Changbin quietly watched TV when he heard his cell phone ring. He picked it up from the counter. Seeing the contact name and number, he answered. "Chris Bang speaking."

"Morning, Chris." Said police chief Jinyoung Park. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, sir. What's happening?"

"If you tune into the news, you can find out. I recorded it for you, so you don't have to turn on the TV and wait for them to repeat the message."

"Well," Chris looked over his shoulder. "A couple of the boys are watching a show right now, so that was awfully kind of you."

Jinyoung laughed. "I'm sending it to you now. I expect you boys to be at the station by seven."

"That shouldn't be a problem, sir."

"Good. See you then, Double Knock."

"Until then, sir." Chris ended the call, then stuffed his phone into his jeans. He turned around to face the living room and felt his phone vibrate; Chief Jinyoung had sent the video. "Changbin, Seungmin!" They glanced at their leader.

"Breakfast is ready. Come and fix your plates while I wake up Felix and Hyunjin. We need to be at city hall by seven." Said Chris.

"What happened?" Asked Changbin, stopping at the part of the counter closest to the living room as Chris came closer and Seungmin passed them to enter the kitchen.

"I don't know, but it's on the news." Chris paused beside the couch. Seungmin was busy making his plate. "Though, the chief did just send me a video of the news report." Chris took out his phone, swiped to view the message, and held it out.

Changbin took it. "Thanks, hyung."

"Don't mention it. Be right back." Chris said, and Changbin nodded. Changbin set down the phone on the island and took a plate from the overhead cupboards as Seungmin sat at the island and played the video. Chris left the living room and skidded across the antiqued brown wooden floor that was also in the kitchen and upstairs hallway.

Unlike the white drywall of the entrance and upstairs areas, the living room had wallpaper that was red like a wilted rose and patterned like the fur of a tabby cat. Its carpet was tawny brown, and matching light absorbing curtains were distributed in every room of the house. The only other rooms that had carpet were the bedrooms, studio and dojo. The doors of Bang Manor were simple: white with silver door knobs. But the black front door had an elegant, translucent window arch at its top. Matching window panels were on either side of that door.

Chris grasped the wooden handrail that matched the floor. The banisters were black metal rods, the newels the same wood as the handrail. He jogged up and walked to the first door on his left. Chris knocked before entering and heard Felix mewl. Chris flicked on the light and watched the boy pull himself up and stretch his arms with a silent yawn.

The bedroom was full of stuffed animals of every size and smelled of laundry and Doritos, its walls white except for one. Most of the plushies were squished into the hammock that hung from the far left corner of the room and stretched across the far wall, while others were on the bookshelf that had no books, it and the closet with folding doors on the right wall, and more were on the floor near his bed. His bedding was black, the pillows and underside of the blanket crimson red. The wall his bed was horizontal to had a mural of a fiery plain with a mountain of gold and jewels surrounded by burning forest. A flaming sword stuck out from the treasure, and fiery lightning rained upon the scene from black clouds speckled with embers.

"Time to wake up, Felix. We've got a meeting at city hall in an hour. There's eggs and bacon in the kitchen. Changbin has my phone, so you can catch up on what's happening." Chris said.

"OK. Thanks." The boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Chris left the room, closing the door behind him. He continued rightwards and knocked on the third and final door on that side of the hall before opening the door and turning on the light.

Hyunjin's bedroom walls were white, and the farthest had black illustrations depicting a red eyed figure sitting at the edge of a rooftop, looking onto the city below. An identical figure stalked a lanky figure with yellow eyes wielding a bloody knife. Finally, the red eyed man stood above the crumpled body of the skinny man, the assassin's dripping red hidden blade visible from his left sleeve. Blood spilled from the corpse and splattered onto the wall, which was patterned like brick. Above these scenes was a mantra in red: I am not blind.

There was a shrine to the right side of the room with framed pictures of each of the Stray Kids, along with a closet with folding doors. The five white candles were unlit, and the tea cup was empty, spare for the specks of leaves. Chris smelled the mirth Hyunjin had burned and Hyunjin's scent of lemongrass. His bedding was black but wasn't as cozy looking as Felix's, the pillowcases striped black and white. Hyunjin let out a whine as he stirred.

"Hyunjin, we have to be at city hall in an hour. There's breakfast in the kitchen, and the Chief sent me a video of what's going on you can look at with Felix." Said Chris.

"OK, I'm coming." Replied Hyunjin. Chris nodded, then left the bedroom and closed the door. He went downstairs and heard Felix's door open. Felix, in a loose orange shirt and black pyjama pants, crossed the hall to the bathroom between Chris' and Changbin's rooms. The second bathroom was through the first door on the right wall of the living room, the studio and dojo doors following it, to the left.

As he passed through the living room, Chris saw the television had been turned off. Chris ran a hand along the arm of the black couch. The loveseat and recliner matched the couch, but the recliner was made of leather. The coffee table had a black wooden frame with a foggy glass surface. He observed the picture in a simple black frame that was above the electric fireplace, behind the loveseat and recliner. Posed formally in their hero suits with mayor Brandon Gorge and the police chief before a blue backdrop were the Stray Kids.

Chris recalled how nervous they were before they were declared heroes with real powers instead of vigilantes with gimmicks up their sleeves. He remembered how they cried on the nights leading up to that day, afraid they would be falsely accused and imprisoned just for acting upon what came naturally to them. There wasn't even a court hearing: just a meeting at the city hall where the press was allowed an audience. While there were negative opinions, the general outlook of the public was loud enough for the city officials to properly analyse the evidence in front of them. This morning had a similar atmosphere, even though Chris hadn't seen the news report.

Changbin and Seungmin sat at the island. They each had a glass of orange juice. Chris met Changbin's eyes as he walked in. "Chan, this is pretty serious." Changbin said, tapping the cellphone that was face up on the counter. "You should really have a look at this."

"I will, Changbin." Replied Chris. "Let me fix my plate, and I'll do just that." Changbin gave a nod and stuffed his face with more bacon as Chan walked over and got a plate. He served himself, then sat beside Changbin and ate while he unlocked his phone and played the video.

The news anchor greeted the viewers and stated it was 6:00 o'clock, February 8, 2020. She said they would begin the news hour with breaking news. Residents of the Elizabeth Apartments had reported sounds of distress from the room next door to police around 3:15, that morning. (Chris heard Hyunjin come downstairs and briefly watched him enter the bathroom.) The victim was twenty year old Faith Lawson and the suspect her boyfriend, twenty one year old Han Jisung.

The neighbors who reported the kidnapping said the following to their news correspondent, some time after police arrived. (Felix entered the kitchen and said 'good morning'. Changbin and Seungmin answered him.) A middle aged husband and wife were shown with the male reporter outside of the apartments. (Felix got his plate and began to put food on it.)

The woman said they were awakened by Faith's sudden screaming. They heard Jisung tell Faith that she should 'Be still and quiet, and it won't be so bad.'. The husband said that they heard the couple having intercourse, the night before. (Hyunjin came out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen and greeted the boys, who responded. He got a plate and filled it as Felix sat beside Seungmin.)

When the reporter asked if Faith and Jisung had ever fought, the husband and wife said 'no', that they seemed like a normal, happy couple. (Hyunjin took the empty stool beside Felix.) The video cut back to the newsroom. She said that the police had released censored photos of the crime scene and surveillance footage. She gave a graphic violence warning, then the video was played.

The camera in the lobby caught Jisung finishing his flight down the stairs, Faith over his shoulder. She was bound at her wrists and ankles with zip ties. Her forehead bled, an excessively large black bar edited to cover her wound. A copper coloured metal device with a detailed, key-like handle kept her mouth open. The outdoor camera showed a loitering black car. The driver opened the back door on the passenger side, then Jisung forced Faith in the backseat before entering behind her as slamming the door shut as the car sped away.

The reporter was shown again. She said that the car had arrived just minutes before Jisung was recorded fleeing the crime scene. The license plate of the vehicle had been captured, but the car hadn't been found. The screen swiped left to shows list of information about the car, driver, suspect and victim. Along with information already stated in the report, the woman said that the driver wore a copper coloured mask with an upside down cone shape carved into the forehead.

The anchor announced they would now show the photos. The scene was in the bedroom, the focus on the bed. The bedding was a mess, blood, saliva and urine on the sheets and pillows. The reporter said that police theorized that Jisung had woken Faith and struck her head with the device that was seen gagging her. The anchor stated that if anyone had any information on where the vehicle or Jisung had been after the kidnapping to contact the police as the number was shown at the bar at bottom of the screen. Then the video ended.

Chris blew hot air through his lips. "I'm surprised how much information the police released, but I guess they did it to warn the public." Seungmin and Hyunjin nodded, humming. "That's fucking scary." Everyone nodded and gave noises of agreement.

"Do you mind if I watch it again?" Asked Hyunjin. "I didn't see all of it."

"Of course." Chris answered, and pushed his phone into Hyunjin's hand. He played if again, Felix looking over to watch too. While the video played again, Seungmin rose from his stool, carried his plate to the sink and washed it.

"I wonder if this Jisung guy has a criminal record?" Pondered Seungmin.

"I guess we'll find out, when we get there." Replied Chris.

"He doesn't look like a criminal, at least." Commented Felix.

"That doesn't say anything about him, personality wise." Hyunjin said, as Seungmin seated himself again and Changbin rose to wash his plate. "Lots of bad people look unsuspicious."

"You make a point."

"Obviously, there's more going on than a simple kidnapping." Said Seungmin. "Whatever he used to subdue Faith with, it's some kind of medieval torture device."

"Yep yep," Replied Chris. "But it's nearly impossible to tell what it is, since we've only seen in use."

"I doubt the police have any guesses, either." Changbin said, returning to his chair. "And since we don't know where the car is, we'll have a harder time tracking them down."

"All we can do is find out what else the police know and do our best to find these guys and get Faith out of danger before it's too late." Chris said, and the other boys nodded. Soon enough, they all finished eating. Hyunjin volunteered to wash the dishes, so the boys went upstairs and into their room to change. While Seungmin's room was the third on the right side, Changbin's was first on the left and Chris' the second.

Chris' room had white walls, the left having posters of the Stray Kids illustrated like comic book characters by artists from a big comic book company. Individual portraits and group shots were scattered around the wall in an appealing way. Chris always chuckled when he looked upon certain posters. He had a lot of plushies in his his room, though not nearly as many as Felix had. They were neatly displayed on a bookshelf that had some books, the shelf on the wall opposite of the poster wall. Chris' bed was vertical to the far wall, the closet next to the shelf.

Chris opened his closet and took his suit from within. He removed his steel blue pyjama top and black pyjama pants that had thin white lines to make a checked pattern. Chris stepped into the matte charcoal one-piece spandex enforced with a thin layer of cotton for comfort and a cowl collar. The pitch black kneepads and elbow guards were enforced with steel-every members' gear was. The biceps, thighs and each side of the rib cage had three glossy black, diagonal strips of fake alligator skin tipped like spikes.

Chris brought out his gauntlets, which were made with glossy black leather and had steel knuckles and backside. The gloves had the stripes from the one-piece, except these looped around to the bottom. Chris took out and put on a black leather belt that had two pouches on either side. Its buckle was matte silver and had the letters DKC in black. Chris found his black leather boots, which came up to the middle of his shins, had a polished finish and had steel toes and soles. The bottom of the shoes had very good grips and were well padded, so Chris was able to be sneaky, despite the steel components. Finally, Chris put on his black leather cape that went a couple of inches past his knees and was tied to the collar of his costume with a lumberman's knot.

Chris exited his bedroom and saw Felix's bedroom door was halfway open. He saw Changbin behind the younger boy, helping an audibly struggling Felix zip up his black leather, full length sleeved shirt with a straight band collar. Felix had black leather pants held up by a black leather belt with a simple golden buckle with a pouch on the back, and kneepads. He had black leather shoes with half inch heels and steel toes and black leather fingerless gloves with his palms exposed.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Cried Felix, reaching a hand back and bending backwards a little.

"Well, if you stopped moving every time I move the zipper a milometer, you wouldn't be in pain and I could actually do this, today! Aish!" Changbin bickered. "Now straighten up." Felix complied, still whining.

"I should be able to do this in one go if..." Changbin jerked at the zipper, grunting. Felix continued to whimper, and cringed up his face. "If... argh, come on."

"Changbin," Chris said, walking into the room as Changbin and Felix watched him come in. "Let me take care of it."

"Yes, thank you." Changbin said, stepping aside, shaking out his hands. His costume had a waist length cape over his right shoulder that was white with a royal blue underside. It had a golden stripe along the edge and was attached to Changbin by an elastic strap under his arm. His long sleeved blouse with a Peter Pan collar and his harem pants were royal blue with white cuffs, the shirt's buttons and the two decorative buttons on the crotch white. He wore white leather boots with a golden stripe over the folded top parts of the shoes.

Chris came up behind Felix and grabbed onto the zipper. "OK, when I say 'three', suck in your guts."

"Wait, won't my shirt rip when I breathe out?" Felix replied, looking over his shoulder with doe eyes.

"If your powers are still working, no." Chris laughed, and so did Felix and Changbin. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"OK: one... two... three!" Zip! Pop, crack!

"Aw," Felix said, right hand on his left shoulder as he rolled the joint and turned to look at his hyungs. "Did you guys hear that?"

Changbin and Chris chuckled, nodding. Chris said, "We did, yeah. You feeling alright, 'lix?"

"Yeah," Felix nodded. "I'm good. Ouch."

"Your breathing feels OK?"

"Yeah, feels fine, mate."

"OK, good!" Chris patted Felix's left shoulder, and Felix flinched, contorting his expression in reaction. "Sorry."

"You're fine..."

"Come on." Chris said, nodding to the exit. Felix gave a small nod as he and Changbin followed Chris out. Chris almost ran into Hyunjin, who was busy fiddling with the white cloth wrappings beneath his fingerless, black leather gloves. They jumped as Hyunjin's forearm brushed Chris'. Changbin and Felix stopped for a moment to take it what happened before continuing.

"Whoa! Sorry, Hyunjin." Said Chris, subconsciously raising his hand to gesture.

"It's fine, hyung." Hyunjin replied. "I wasn't looking where I was going." Hyunjin wore a sleeveless black shirt with a very low tuxedo collar that exposed the middle of his chest. It didn't take much movement for his nipples and toned but flat belly to be exposed. He wore black tights, black knee pads each with a tiny, four pointed white star, a belt with three pouches on his right hip, a jedok geom and dan geom with black handles on the other, and lightweight, all black slip-on shoes.

Chris massaged Hyunjin's shoulder. "Ah, it's fine. Come on." Hyunjin nodded, then followed Chris downstairs. He heard Seungmin leave his room as they went. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Chris looked back to watch Seungmin descend.

His costume consisted of a plum purple jumpsuit with long sleeves and gold cuffs, and a cape that ended halfway down his back. The cape was held by a clasp shaped like a hickory brown clover outlined in gold, and hickory brown slip-on shoes. Seeing that Hyunjin was on his way, Chris proceeded to lead the group outside. They walked left, to the garage attached to the house. "Why are we going to the garage from outside instead of from the dojo?" Seungmin asked.

Chris laughed. "Oh yeah." Hyunjin and Felix laughed. "Oh well! We're outside now." They arrived at the garage door and Chris pressed the button on his keychain to open it. When it was up just enough, they ducked under it and dashed to the black van with their logo on both sides.

"It's so dark in here." Said Felix. Chris unlocked the car, and it honked as its headlights flashed.

As everyone climbed inside the vehicle, Seungmin said, "Aren't you basically—?"

"—Oh yeah." The car rumbled with laughter as the doors were closed and the boys buckled up.

"Man, you really aren't a morning person, are you, Felix?" Said Hyunjin, as Chris started the engine.

"No," Felix shook his head, still smiling. "I'm really not."

Chris pulled out of the garage as Changbin ruffled Felix's hair. Felix gave a cry of protest and reached for his hand. Even though Felix had it, Changbin didn't let up. "Ah, but you're still cute."

"Stooop, oh my God." Felix playfully thrashed in his seat, kicking Seungmin's seat.

"Ah! You stop!" Seungmin shouted, reaching back to swipe at Felix's legs. As the Kids laughed, Felix pulled back his legs and swiped back.

                                                         —

Chris pulled into the curb in front of the police station. The lawn was littered with news reporters and camera men. "Oh yeah, the press is here."

"Of course they would be," Said Hyunjin, rather cheerfully. "This is the first time the city has called us for something like this."

Seungmin hummed. "The last time we came here under these kind of circumstances, we were finding out if we'd be allowed to be heroes, or not."

"We'd better get out there, guys." Chris said, turning off the ignition. "Let's go." The group left the van, Chris locking it once he saw everyone was out. Chris led the group up the gradual incline of the staircase, Changbin first behind him with the younger three close behind.

"Mr. Bang!" "Double Knock, sir!" "Excuse me, Mr. Bang!" The shouting voices of the reporters flooded the boys' ears as they marched forward. "Do you have any information about the suspect or his victim?" "Mr. Bang, do you have any insight on the case or the suspect's motive?" "Sir, do you believe that Stray Kids should be allowed to freely defend the city, as they currently do?"

The Kids weren't obligated to answer. In fact, they were legally prohibited from making any statement to the public without consent from the city. That didn't mean Chris didn't want to answer. He wanted to respond so they would stop asking the same questions time and again, but he couldn't, and that was just something he had to accept. It wasn't just to save face for the city or the police, it was to save face for the boys and to make sure no false information would be released. The media had been told this, four months ago, yet acted that their questions could be answered, or needed to be answered. It was one of the frustrating things about the job, and, today, it took a bit of effort for the boys to mute their voices.

The quintet were a little more than halfway to the doors of the building when Chris felt off. He stopped and looked among the crowd for something to click. "Chan hyung?" Said Hyunjin.

"Who... who called..." Chris muttered, Hyunjin and Changbin only hearing him because of how close they were to him.

"Who called what?" Changbin asked.

"That voice, where is...?" Chris' eyes flared open ever so slightly as he found a familiar face. "Minho." The boys easily found the handsome face of the man in the mint blue and white suit and held their breaths. His normally brown eyes were blood red and continually released a scentless black smoke.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Chris. The voices and movements of the reporters fell to a hush as he spoke.

"Who is he talking to?" Inquired a woman.

"Ha, he is a madman!" Exclaimed a male. "Go check into a mental ward, ya fucking lawless degen—"

"Hush!" Barked Hyunjin. "Let our leader do his job, please!"

"I don't know how you're making it so only we can see you," Chris said. A couple people murmured in wonder and doubt. "But I sure as hell know you're treading thin waters, Minho."

Minho drew out his breath as he inhaled through his teeth. To the surprise of the heroes, they were stained black. The smell of burned flesh slapped everyone within five feet instantly. The press reacted with nauseous expressions and sounds, stepping back or turning away to cough and hold in vomit. The Kids also turned to recover, but Chris swallowed the unfurling knot in his stomach and kept eye contact with Minho, refusing to show any sign of weakness to the serial killer.

"He's actually here?" A reporter said, her volume slightly lower than normal.

"Holy shit, what kind of power is this?!" Cried a male.

"Do you want me to answer what I'm doing here, or the secret to my new trick?"

"Why are you here, Minho?" Demanded Chris.

Minho gave a small smile and folded his hands in front of his abdomen. "Faith is alive. Jisung and I would love to—" Suddenly, the doors to the hall opened. Minho paused and let his hands fall to his side. Everyone watched the mayor and police chief come outside with a handful of officers.

Brandon had a friendly face and build and had a mauve tie with his light grey suit. Jinyoung looked familiar to a lot of people, but no one could quite put their finger on whom. He donned an all grey suit and his tie was matte silver. They had barely taken two steps when Jinyoung saw what what happening and put his arm in front of Brandon. The mayor stumbled back a bit, then gave a small gasp upon seeing what was before him. One of the officers whispered in Jinyoung's ear and received order 10-23.

"Hello, Mr. Gorge, Mr. Park." Greeted Minho, with a small wave. "Do I have permission to finish my explanation, or must I leave before I spill the wine necessary for the vines to grow?" Chris quirked an eyebrow and looked among his members, who also looked a bit puzzled.

Brandon and Jinyoung looked at each other. Brandon nodded. A moment later, so did Jinyoung. The police chief answered, "Go on, Minho. You have our attention."

"Thank you. So!" Minho clapped his hands, then folded his hands again. "Jisung and I would love to meet you boys at the asylum, at 3:53 PM: no sooner, no later. If you open those doors early or one minute past the designated time, the ritual will not only fail and make the core of the Earth expand to the point of destroying the planet!" Minho laughed for two seconds, then his laughter cut short. "I'm kidding."

Chris said, "I was going to say, Minho—"

"—Ah ah ah!" Minho wiggled his finger warningly. "There will still be a dire consequence for an early or late entry!"

"And what is that?"

"We'll be so upset that we can't free our girlfriend that we'll light the entire city on fire!" Minho flung his arms out side with a broad smile.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously." Minho nodded. "Anyway," He sang, and ran a hand through his hair. "That's all you need to know."

"We expect the angels to show up and try to stop us. You'll probably see one within minutes of coming inside, and they'll probably help you, or at least try. We'll see. It'll be fun." He wiggled the fingers of one hand. "Have fun at the meeting, boys! Bye now!"

Minho threw his head back. Chris instinctively reached out, even though he didn't know what to expect. Minho fell backwards as a fiery magic circle appeared in the stone stairs with a deafening bang like a rife had been fired. The crowd screamed, cowered and flinched. Some of the police did, too.

The Kids looked surprised but were able to find strength by looking at each other. Seungmin noticed the circle didn't erase the steps but wrapped around them and decided to remember that. A plethora of frostbitten arms with clawed fingers grabbed Minho and quickly pulled him through like he was a doll made of cloth. The circle disappeared with a bang, leaving no trace behind. More shrieks were given at the sound. As the people recovered, Chris turned his attention to the mayor and chief. His confident gaze was mirrored by Jinyoung.

"Come on, Kids." Said Jinyoung, directing their eyes to him. Nodding and shivering, the five quietly left the press alone.

                                                          —

Three watchtowers and small officer stations at their feet were lined up thirty feet apart in the middle of the Ocean, the one hundred by eighty foot lot that connected the four wings. They had female names in an attempt to make the asylum less dreary to inmates and visitors. The Ocean was boxed in by twenty feet tall, unpainted stone walls with steel walkways leading from one wing to the other. Steel stairs were in each corner. Six flower boxes of white and purple hyacinths were lined up outside the facilities and security stations. The boxes were blanketed in snow, but parts of the flowers peeked out from the cold powder.

Alicia was located east, serving as the residential and intensive care centre. She had three floors, the third being the underground intensive care level. Her ash white exterior was lined with vibrant red paint along the top and bottom, her roof grey. The clock tower in the left part of her body showed it was 3:48 in Roman numerals, a guarded platform below thirty feet above the ground. There was also a patrol on the level roof beside the clock.

Eva, the medical ward, was west. She looked identical to Alicia but had no clock tower and only had two floors. Sara, the entrance and parking lot, was north. The stone wall had a small weakness in the electric gate, but in case of an emergency, with the press of a button, three rows of spiked metal poles would thrust up from the ground. This security measure had yet to have been used, but it had been tested with a dummy driver and proven to be a viable asset.

Maria, the graveyard and garden, was south. There was no stone wall or electric fence where Maria met the Atlantic. The graveyard was neatly laid out to the west, the wooden benches and wide flowerbeds of more hyacinths to the east. There were ten headstones: four names belonged to patients from the first floor, and three belonged to patients from the second floor. Two belonged to stillborn children, though one hadn't been given a name but still had the name of her mother inscribed, and the tenth was that of the inmate who had murdered the three.

The police and Stray Kids had gathered at the asylum at two o'clock. Hyunjin was throwing his dan geom at a sandbag near Alicia and pulling it back with the white glow of his powers. One could tell that his speed was a little faster than the pair of watching officers' eyes could keep up with. "Uh, that's 471...?" Said an officer whose surname was Walker, hesitantly.

"475," Hyunjin politely corrected, pausing his exercise with the weapon in his hand to look at him. "But you were close."

"It's getting awfully close to 3:53." Said the other officer, Bridges, gazing up at the clock as Hyunjin resumed his practice.

Walker nodded. "That it is. I wonder if Chief Park is going to call one last meeting to go over everything, again."

Hyunjin replied, "Probably not. We're playing with time and demons, here."

"That's true enough." Walker nodded. Hyunjin caught his dan geom and sheathed it in one motion.

"I'm going to wait for the guys by the door." Said Hyunjin, resting his hands on his hips and looking from one man to the other, his eyes also drifting to the dozen officers standing by the doors. "Thanks for staying to watch, guys. Even if it got boring, after one hundred."

They both laughed. Bridges said, "Don't mention it, Ghost. We'll walk with you." Some ten feet behind them, Chris was delivering blows to the bags three officers were holding, alternating targets and how he attacked.

He brought up one leg in a jump kick and pushed himself off the sac with the other, the officer who held the bag staggering as Chris was launched across the ways and landing ten quick stomps to the second bag, switching from foot to foot. The officer who held this bag was the best built of his peers, but he still needed to plant himself firmly into the ground to avoid being blown back at least five feet from Chris' power. Chris landed with a thump that had less impact on the beaten up earth because he wasn't wearing his own boots. His momentum boosted him rightwards, to the third bag. He pulled back his arms and whacked it upwards with his left arm, immediately followed by his right to make a 'double knot'.

With a choked laugh, the man who held this bag stepped around a bit. "Oof!"

"You alright, Shorts?" Chris asked, relaxing his posture and rolling his right shoulder.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. What a rush, ha ha ha!"

"Glad you're still having fun." Chris smiled and patted his left shoulder. "You sure you don't want to switch out?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I've only been here fifteen minutes, I can keep going."

"Daren," Said Johnson, the officer with the second bag. "You really should take a break." He looked behind him. "It's getting real close to that time, anyway."

Chris turned to look at the clock with the officers and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, damn! Guess it's time to gather everyone."

Shorts gave a nod to Alicia. "Ghost is already ahead of you." Chris and the other two men looked in her direction. Hyunjin gave Chris a wave, and Chris waved back.

"That he is!"

The third officer, Island, said, "Chief Park will probably call everyone over, in a mo—"

"This if Chief Park to all officers in the DCA: please alert the Stray Kids to gather at the door and proceed to said destination. Two minutes and thirty seconds until entry. Over."

"Yep." Said Johnson.

"Walk with us, Double Knock?" Said Island.

Chris gave a nod. "Of course." The four started their short walk and blended into Hyunjin and the two officers. "All warmed up, Hyunjin?" He nodded. "Good, good." Chris turned to watch out for whoever came next.

Seungmin and Changbin jogged over, Chief Jinyoung close behind with eight officers. Chris looked around the yard for Felix and scarcely saw him leap from the steel platform from the nearest watchtower and land hands first, the boy bounding forth like a cat until he was somewhat close to the others and then standing, shaking out his arms a little. "You alright, Felix?" Inquired Chris.

"Yeah, I'm fine. That wasn't too high of a jump." Felix responded. Chris nodded.

"All right," The voice of the Chief drew everyone's attention. "I don't have time to go over every part of this operation in detail, but I don't need to. Remember to check your surroundings and be prepared to make split second decisions. So long as you follow protocol and keep your heads on your shoulders, all should go well, and, ideally, there should be no casualties."

"It is likely there will be casualties, but it is our mission to minimize those numbers and save not just the patients and staff of the asylum, who are on lockdown, but to save the city from the evil threatening to burst from the schemes of Minho and Jisung. I'll be waiting out here, but know that I, along with every citizen of our city, will be with you in spirit." Jinyoung looked to an officer beside him. "Marley, how much time until 'go'?"

"Twenty-three, twenty-one, twenty..." Counted the man, who held a cellphone. With amazing efficiency, the Stray Kids moved to the front of the mass, the police force behind them in four full columns and a fifth column that had vacant one spot. They marched forward, Marley walking behind them to continue his task. "Thirteen, twelve, eleven..."

Chris felt a pair of eyes staring at him and found the wavering eyes of Seungmin. "Ten, nine..." Chris discreetly moved his hand over Seungmin's and gently tapped his skin. "Eight, seven..." Seungmin swallowed and fumbled his fingers until he held Chris' hand.

"We'll be OK, Seungmin-ie, I promise." Chris muttered. His voice swayed the interest of the other Kids. Seungmin sniffled and nodded. Hyunjin stood on the other side of Seungmin, and he rubbed Seungmin's arm.

"Three, two, one, zero." Marley glanced up from the phone and nodded once to Chris. "Negative one—"

"Go, go!" Shouted Chief Jinyoung. Not wasting time, the group strode forward and entered the asylum. The decently decorated lobby had sky blue walls, a tacky grey carpet and cheap cushioned chairs. The secretary, like all staff outside of medical and security, had already evacuated. The far end of the room were glass sliding doors, emergency steel doors retracted into the wall.

As the force went through the doors and began to pass the huge holding cell on their left, a voice came from the radios of the officers. "Dispatch to Adam, Boy, Charles and David: the city has not caught fire. Repeat: the city has not caught fire. Over."

"That's the immediate danger out of the way, good." Said Chris with a heavy sigh, ensuring his voice could be heard by at least those directly behind him. The holding cell had steel white bars and benches against the far wall and mats on the concrete floor, which continued outside of the cell. The walkway to the white door at the end of the room had several windows that looked into the cafeteria on the right wall.

"What's the time?" Asked Changbin, who was to the right of Chris. Felix was at Changbin's right.

Alley, a female from the second row, answered, "3:53:42, forty-three..."

"It's still too early to be sure that the city is safe." Said Russell, a man from the fourth row.

"I agree." Replied Chris, the other boys and some of the men nodding. It took group about twenty-five seconds to arrive at the door. They stopped, and Seungmin stepped up to the door. He pressed his hands and his left ear to its surface.

"Clear." Seungmin stated. He stepped back into line and Chris took his place to open the door. He had almost put his hand on the doorknob when a spider leapt through the window, its bristles roughly touching Chris' right cheek. The spider flew over Chris' shoulder and landed on the ground.As several officers gasped and began to raise their handguns, only to realize it was just a spider, Chris pivoted and saw the tarantula wasn't moving.

"It's dead?" Chris said, questioningly.

Seungmin nodded. "Tarantulas can't survive long falls. They get hurt even if dropped from a foot high. Though some species are more aggressive, it is mostly because they are Old World species or because of mood. They are mostly harmless. Their bites can hurt, but..." He shook his head and crossed his arms. "They require humid habitats. How did this spider get here?"

"The Devil, probably." Answered Addison, an officer from the fifth row, and a handful of them laughed.

"That's probably not far from the truth, actually." Seungmin said, bobbing his head. He made eye contact with Chris. "Allow me to examine its corpse, before we move on."

"Of course, go ahead." Chris said, nodding. Seungmin gave a nod in response before kneeling before the creature. He gingerly poked it with a finger and sharply held his breath. His breath shuddered, and he swallowed loudly. "Seungmin?" The boy's torso jolted, his eyes whipping up to Chris' and then relaxing. "Talk to us, please."

"S-Sure. This is a South American Pink Toe." Seungmin carefully picked up the spider and turned it over in his hands as he got to his feet. He looked at his peers while speaking. "Its pink colour darkens into maturity, and they live from seven to nine years."

"They are arboreal, meaning they live in trees. This gave them the name Antilles tree spider. They grow up to six inches, and this adult female is five inches. I noticed a strong magical presence from it, when it came through the window. It's gone now, but it stayed long enough for me to intercept how the sender felt, when it was created." Seungmin's eyes lowered. "It was Faith..."

"Wait, that means Jisung and Minho have already changed her." Felix said. "They've already won. So was the whole 3:53 PM thing just to lure us in?"

"Probably, yeah."

"It might not mean they've won, Felix." Said Changbin. "Just that they've done enough to make her able to do this." He pointed at the spider.

"What did you feel when you touched the spider, Seungmin-ie?" Asked Chris.

"Intense throbbing pain where my jaw starts." Seungmin rubbed beneath his ears. "My tongue felt alienated and cold, like it had nothing around it. It felt like I had been crying for hours. I felt so helpless, so small and weak, unable to do anything but obey."

"I'd like to find one of these alive, but I doubt I'll be that lucky. I feel as if something is hiding in our little friend." Seungmin turned his head to Felix. "Felix, would you mind—?" Felix widened his eyes and shook his head. Seungmin, Felix and Hyunjin laughed. Chris and Changbin joined, a few of the officers chuckling along.

"I'll do it, Seungmin." Hyunjin said, stepping closer and withdrawing his dan geom. He cautiously sliced open the spider, from its abdomen to its chelicerae. Its blood colour was normal, but scentless black smoke accompanied the liquid. When Hyunjin and Seungmin saw the smoke, their eyes flew open. Hyunjin took a hasteful step back, and Seungmin quickly put the spider down, keeping his face as far away from the spider as he could.

"I don't smell anything wrong with the smoke." Felix commented, shaking his head. "I do see something that looks an awful lot like a crystal in the front part of its body, though."

"Do you want to get it?" Asked Seungmin. Felix froze up for a second, then shook his head. "I thought so." Seungmin crouched before the tarantula and carefully picked into its body with his fingers to extract the white object. He held it in two of his fingers and rolled it between them. "It sure feels like a real crystal."

"Lemme see." Felix said, coming over to Seungmin, who moved the item into his palms. Felix touched it with one finger and rolled it around Seungmin's palm a little. "Yep, that's a real crystal. I'd ask if I could keep it, but I don't wanna be cursed, or something."

"I do feel a faint magical aura from it," Seungmin said. "But it doesn't feel malicious. If anything, it feels malevolent. Might even be lucky. You can keep it on you for now if you want, Felix."

"Cool." Felix took the crystal and stored it in his pouch. He quietly added, "Yay!" Hearing him, Seungmin chuckled.

"OK, let's move on." Said Chris, as Seungmin stooped down and got a small plastic bag from one of his pouches. He shimmied the tarantula into it as everyone but Hyunjin moved on, and sealed the bag before standing, placing the spider in a different pocket before jogging to catch up with Hyunjin. Chris waited for them at the door, the officers acting upon their order to divide and investigate both ways the hall went. When they passed through, Chris began to pull the door closed, but was shocked to feel the door slam itself.

"Well, that can't be good." Said Chris. Hyunjin and Seungmin laughed. "Come on, this way." He nodded to his right, and they hurried to return to the front of their group.

Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

[god--baby]

what isn’t and what should be ch6 (nsfw)

vic criss x ambiguously gendered reader

this fic’s masterpost

my general masterpost

previously on: henry comes back. you all go to the quarry. on friday, you go to gretta’s party. patrick gets laid twice. you blow vic again. patrick decides he wants some dresses.

summary: you and patrick and vic go shopping for dresses and skirts. you all go to Henry’s land to distract him from his chores. you and vic fuck. 

word count: 5053

tag list:  @bowers1989 @hyperdontia2580 @badbitsh13 @candy-grape@cmonsonnyboy @zudyblr @not-uh-author @apossiblegentleman@violetdawn-k @the-official-trash-can @bellacherries @kotabug1211 @sarah-bow-beara @baddestbitchmgk @milevenandreddiefordays @somesayimvague@xoteaguellif3 @jordan-writes-occasionally @iwritefanficnotprophecies@painfullythiqq @mads---world @thegirlyouworryabout @liddlehoneybee@madhatterweasley @littleevilme03 @noctsgay @ordinarily-weird@alwaysforgivingneverforgetting @agespenst @pixelcube0@bettertohaveneverlovedatall @yaboicringe @turtlebabeparadise @rakelmaria @soyoucanthrowmetothewolves @serpent-princess @illegalcryptid@sugarfree-sugarbaby @softcrybabyboy @snek-shit @purplezebra68@cutegoat-boy @xxmcr-trashxx @zabee113 @hana-the-bored-idiot @reddie-freddie @spiderman-2013 @catastrophictyranny @lgaristocat @muppmeep@pngash @cheesy-nachos @hearthellkandi @idoticcabbage @cordysblog@leoniabitch @shamelessvegas @itsjulzandmydiamonds @extrasadbish@smallcheez-its @mikki-dee24 @octosapiens @maybe-lucky-clubs@sociopathicpiglet @sweettravelmuseumslamp @1975pxris @mylove-mylord@butternutsitstandsforrbutternuts @puffkitten-lexa

Grumbling, you got out of Patrick’s bed. He tapped his fingers on the card table in the corner that served as his desk until you were standing, stretching.

“Finally,” he grumbled.

“Hey,” you snapped. “Not everyone can be up at the crack of dawn like you. Did you even sleep?”

“I slept enough,” he said dismissively.

“Oh, that’s right,” you said. “’Cause you got fucked.”

He grinned, then. Finally, a smile. No matter how terrifying it came off, you treasured smiles from him.

“Yeah,” he said. “’Cause I got fucked.”

He was always able to knock out for a few hours if he’d had sex recently. It was strange, but you hoped he got laid more often. If only so he’d sleep.

Running your hands through your hair, you said, “just us today?”

“Nah. You can invite your boyfriend.”

“Ugh.”

When he said it like that, it made you want to stay away from Vic. Which is probably what he wanted, anyway.

“I’ll invite him, but only ‘cause he’s good with clothes,” you said. “Be good.”

“I won’t hurt your precious boy toy,” he said, his grin growing.

You gave him a look.

“He’s still just Vic. You know that, right? Just ‘cause we’re together doesn’t change that he’s a part of our crew.”

“Oh, he’s still a part of it. It just… shifts things a little.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head and left his room.

Unwilling to put together a new outfit, you put on the clothes you’d worn to the party last night. They smelled like a party — smoke and sweat and faintly, sex.

You grinned and got dressed. When you were done, you went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and found Patrick doing his face up. Today, he was wearing the rings he saved for when he was in a more dangerous mood than normal. A ring on almost every finger, silver and heavy. You thought of them as the Fuck You Up rings.

“What’s up?” you asked, toothpaste suds in your mouth.

“Hm?”

“The rings.”

“Oh, them,” he said.

“Yeah, them.”

“Figured it might be good. Just in case someone doesn’t like me wanting to get all pretty.”

You spat out the toothpaste in your mouth and swished your mouth clean.

“You are pretty,” you said. “A dress is just extra.”

“I know.”

He smiled at you in the mirror and you smiled back.

You left the bathroom as Patrick was putting on mascara. You went to your room, getting your phone and dialing Vic’s number.

He picked up after a few rings.

“’Lo?”

He sounded sleepy. You’d probably woken him up.

“Hey, babe,” you said.

“Hey, baby. What’s up?”

“Patrick wants to go shopping. Skirts and dresses. Wanna come?”

He made a thoughtful noise.

“Just… you got a good eye for clothes,” you continued. “Figured it couldn’t hurt.”

“And some people might not appreciate what he’s doing,” he said. “Three is better than two.”

You smiled, grateful he wasn’t leaving you out of a fight that hadn’t happened yet.

That hopefully, wouldn’t happen.

“Yeah,” you said.

“I’ll be there, soon. Want me to see if I can get the car?”

“Sure.”

“Love you,” he said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You went back to the bathroom to wash your face just as Patrick was leaving it.

“You know,” you said. “It’s gonna be hard to find shit long enough for you. You’re so tall.”

“Mm,” he said.

He went to his room, hunting through his pile of clothes. He found a shirt and changed out of the one he was wearing, humming. You watched him comb through his hair with his fingers.

You watched him, and you wondered. Skirts and dresses. Makeup.

He was becoming himself right in front of your eyes.

Turning away, you wiped at one eye, going back to your room, picking up your phone as it lit up.

10:34am. From: Vicky

Got the car baby. be there soon.

Grinning, you put your boots on.

Vic was there soon, honking the horn of the Trans Am to let you know. Patrick stuffed his lip gloss in his jacket pocket as you patted yours to see if — yes, you had your wallet.

And then you left. Patrick got in the front seat as you hoisted yourself through the window into the back. You leaned in and kissed Vic on the cheek once you were settled.

“Hey, baby,” Vic said.

Patrick sighed.

“Hey,” you said.

Then you leveled a glare at the back of Patrick’s head. He was the one who said Vic could come along, after all.

As if sensing you were getting pissed with him, he turned and grinned at you. Shaking your head, you leaned back in your seat and took a cigarette out.

You arrived at the only small department store Derry had to offer, Bella’s, and got out, stretching. You took a deep breath and Patrick smiled at you, eyes empty.

You wondered, for the millionth time in your joined lives, what he was thinking. You smiled back, shaking your head.

Patrick led the way into the store, you close behind and Vic pulling up the rear. He headed straight for the ladies’ section and found the dresses, pushing through them.

“Jesus,” he said. “What am I, the mother of the bride?”

“You probably need the teenage section,” Vic said around one of his fingertips, which he was chewing on.

You all looked around you, unsure of where to go. Truth be told, you’d never been there before. You thrifted for everything. You spotted a clerk, stocking across the store in the baby section, and you split from Patrick and Vic to go talk to her.

“Uh, hi,” you said.

She looked up from the onesies she was folding.

“Hi!” she said. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for dresses and skirts. For a teenager.”

“Okay,” she said. “You’re looking for the junior section. It’s right next to the ladies’ dressing rooms.”

“Oh, um,” you said, looking around.

She pointed across the store. You followed the line of her arm until, sure enough, next to the dressing rooms, there was a small section full of racks and shelves, decked out in every color of the rainbow.

“Thank you so much,” you said.

“You’re not gonna be causing trouble today, are you?” she asked, offhand, as she went back to work.

You flushed. You had been sure that she had no idea who you were.

“No,” you said. “No.”

“Good. You need anything else, come find me.”

“Okay,” you said, walking away.

You went back to Patrick and Vic and pulled both of them by the hand across the store to the junior section. Patrick smiled, finding the tall rack of clearance dresses, paging through them.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” you asked.

“It’s gotta look good with my boots,” he said. “If I can’t wear my boots, I’m not wearing it.”

Vic snorted. Patrick fixed him with that dead-eyed stare.

“What?” Patrick asked.

Like he really cared.

“Just… I dunno. That’s gotta be a first.”

“For this store, maybe,” you allowed.

“This store,” said Patrick, taking out a dress and holding it at arm’s length in front of him, “isn’t gonna know what hit it.”

You grinned.

He turned the dress so you could see the front of it. It was mostly black, sleeveless, with a stripe of turquoise blue around the neck, waist, and bottom hem. You tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes, thinking.

“I like it,” you decided.

“Simple is good,” Vic agreed.

Patrick turned it around so he could get to the tag.

“It’s a number size,” he said. “What the fuck.”

You held back a laugh.

“Hold it up to your body,” Vic said.

Patrick did it. It was off. You could hear Vic hold a sigh in as he stepped up to Patrick and adjusted it so the waist was where it needed to be. The chest was just a little too big.

“Something smaller, then,” you said.

“But I want this one,” said Patrick.

“Pat. Neither of us know how to sew. Find that dress in a smaller size.”

Grumbling, he put the dress back and flicked through the rack, trying to find that same dress, just a little bit smaller. He found it after a minute, making a triumphant noise. He held it up to his body, and it looked perfect. You stepped in and took it from him, looking at the size so you’d know what to look for.

He threw the dress over his shoulder and kept looking.

You grabbed Vic’s hand and squeezed it before pulling him to a different clearance rack, this one with skirts on it.

In ten minutes, all the racks had been looked through twice. Patrick had a small collection of dresses and skirts, as well as a shirt with a mandarin collar and ruffles on the front. You didn’t see the appeal of the shirt, but for some reason, he was attached to it.

Patrick, all his items in tow, turned and marched right into the ladies’ dressing rooms, getting one. Vic looked at you, eyebrows high. You shrugged.

Through the curtain, you could hear Patrick humming as he undressed. You watched his feet as he took off his boots and then his pants, then put his boots back on, stepping into a skirt.

In a moment, he whipped open the curtain and stood there, arms open, a grin on his face. You smiled back.

The skirt was straight, waist-high and long enough to just barely cover his knees. It was red plaid, with yellow and green and white threads through it.

“Well, not with that shirt,” said Vic.

“Obviously,” said Patrick.

The shirt was, indeed, horrendously wrong for the skirt.

“What shirt would you wear with it?” Vic asked. “You gotta have something at home you’d wear with it. Or we’re not getting it.”

Patrick scowled.

“Plain white. I know what I’m doing.”

Vic held his hands up in surrender.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of Patrick trying things on. The plain black dress with turquoise accents came last, and he called your name through the curtain. Then he stuck his head out.

“C’mere,” he said. “Zip me up.”

You smiled and pushed the curtain to the side, going in to the cramped and now ridiculously messy dressing room.

You zipped him up, pushing his hair out of the way of the very top of the zipper. Then you patted his shoulder and took a small step to the side to look around him at both of you in the mirror.

With his makeup, the dress looked right. Even with his boots and his shaggy hair. He looked right.

“I look beautiful,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, voice hushed. “You do.”

You wanted to say you were so proud of him, but you didn’t.

Some things don’t get voiced, even when they should be. Some things just couldn’t leave your mind, leave your mouth.

He smoothed his hands over the dress, starting at his chest and down to his hips, his legs. He smiled.

Then he opened the curtain so Vic could see.

Vic grinned, clapping slow.

“That’s the best one,” he said.

“I know,” said Patrick.

He did a short spin, the skirt of the dress belling out slightly with the movement.

“So what’s the verdict on everything else?” you asked.

Truth be told, you were a little antsy about paying for all this. You hoped you’d have enough money.

“Well, I don’t love half of it, so all that can go,” said Patrick, closing the curtain.

He reached for the zipper and swore. You unzipped him and he stepped out of the dress.

“Okay,” you said. “So, what are we keeping?”

“The red dress, the plaid skirt, the ruffle shirt, and that black skirt with the pleats.” He paused. “And this dress.”

“Okay,” you said.

He got dressed as you gathered up the stuff he said he wanted. You looked at the tags, grateful for the heavy discounts they were all under.

Then you went and bought them. The cashier looked confused as to who you were buying them for, but said nothing as Patrick gave her a scary grin.

You pulled out your cash, finding yourself five dollars short. You swore and, as easy as you please, Vic pulled out his wallet, laying a ten on the counter.

You sent him a reproachful look, but he just stared back. Sighing, you let him put his arm around you.

When everything was in one big bag, you left. Patrick surprised you by climbing into the back seat, immediately pulling off his boots. You shrugged and got into the passenger seat, glancing over your shoulder as he changed into that black and turquoise dress.

“So,” you said as Vic started up the car. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s go to Henry’s,” Patrick said, turning his back to you. “Zip me.”

You zipped him.

“You sure you wanna look for trouble today?” Vic asked, putting the car in drive and pulling away from your parking spot.

“If I look good, there’s nothing I don’t wanna do,” said Patrick, pulling his boots back on.

He looked up and grinned at you, and you smiled back, shaking your head.

“What about Butch?” you asked.

“Henry said he’s out all day. He’s just doing chores.”

“What about Belch?”

“He’s still got a few hours on the clock,” said Patrick. “His fault.”

You snorted. Vic put his hand on your knee as he drove.

You drove in companionable silence out to Henry’s land. Henry was nowhere to be seen at first glance. All getting out of the car, you began a slow circle of the main part of the land.

The main part of the land, including: the house, the barn, the silo, and the pig pen.

You found Henry out at the pig pen, sitting on the fence and looking down at his pigs, Bip and Bop.

“Hey, Hen,” Vic called, holding your hand.

Henry looked over his shoulder at all of you, his eyes turning hard for a moment before he hid it, and hid it well.

“Hey,” he called back. “What’re you guys up to?”

He got in his pocket and fumbled with his phone. It was only when silence fell that you realized he’d been listening to music. Country, to be exact.

You held back a grin. He liked to pretend he was all about raunchy rock, but the boy liked country.

Nothing wrong with that, of course.

He climbed off the fence and came over to all of you.

“We went shopping,” said Patrick.

“Right, ‘cause you’re acting like a girl, and all,” said Henry.

“Henry,” you reproached.

“Hey, he can do what he wants,” Henry said, spreading his hands. “Long as I don’t have to start opening doors and shit for him.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Patrick said.

You looked at him. He looked bored.

Looking closer, you caught a little bit of something you’d never noticed before, but surely, knowing what you knew now, it had always been there.

He looked hungry. And determined.

Holding back an eye roll, you said, “so what do you guys want to do?”

“I gotta joint,” said Patrick, hunting around in his jacket pockets.

“Right. Of course you do,” you teased.

He grinned at you. You grinned back.

“I can’t fuck around for long,” said Henry. “Chores.”

“What, talking to your pigs counts as a chore?” Patrick asked.

“I was feeding them.”

“You were talking to them. Does your old man know you use them as therapists?”

Henry scowled.

“I don’t need a damn therapist,” he said.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with needing help,” you said easily, messing with him.

He shot you a look. You gave it back, raising your eyebrows.

Unexpected, he laughed.

“You’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?” he asked.

“Learned from the best,” you said, glancing at Patrick.

Patrick grinned, reaching out and mussing your hair.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get high. When the joint’s done, you can get back to being your dad’s slave.”

Henry scowled again, but followed as Patrick led the way out to the barn, where the hay loft was waiting for all of you.

They walked side by side, you and Vic pulling up the rear, holding hands.

“So,” said Patrick, quiet.

“What?” asked Henry.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” said Henry slowly, “I think you better hope and pray my old man don’t see you like that.”

“I’m not scared of him.”

Henry didn’t answer that.

“Besides, that’s not an answer. What do you think?”

“Patrick?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be weird.”

“That’s still not an answer.”

“I think you look fucking gay, okay? Happy?”

“Incredibly.”

You looked to Vic, only to find him watching you with a question on his face.

“I’ll text it to you,” you whispered.

He nodded.

When you all got up in the hay loft, Patrick lit the joint, took two hits, and passed it to Henry. As he took a puff, you pulled out your phone.

12:06pm. To: Vicky

Patrick’s got a thing for Henry. Wants him to fuck him. We’ll see I guess

You heard Vic’s phone go off. He pulled it out as the joint was passed to you. You watched as he smiled and texted you back.

12:06pm. From: Vicky

What a disaster

You grinned as you exhaled the sweet, heady smoke.

“C’mere, baby,” Vic said, taking the joint from you.

He took a hit and reached up to hold your face. You opened your mouth and he shotgunned a hit to you. Closing your eyes, you sighed, exhaling the smoke. He ended it with a kiss, and you smiled into it.

“Cute,” Patrick drawled.

“Shut it,” you and Vic said together.

Looking at each other, you laughed.

“Fuck, I love you,” Vic whispered.

Henry snorted, plucking the joint from Vic’s hand.

You just smiled.

In half an hour, all of your phones went off together. You pulled yours out to see what was up.

12:41pm. From: Belch

Got off work early. Where the fuck is Amy?

You started laughing, and found you couldn’t stop.

“Baby — baby, oh my god,” Vic laughed.

He was also staring at his phone, shaking with laughter.

“We fucked up,” you chuckled.

“Jesus, yeah we did,” Vic said.

Patrick pulled his phone out, finally, and shot a message out into the group chat.

12:42pm. From: Pattycakes

Walk out to henry’s. we’re high

12:43pm. From: Belch

Jesus fuck fine

You all laid down, finishing off the joint and talking and laughing. You pushed yourself up on your elbows so you could look at everyone, and found Henry’s eyes on Patrick’s hand, where he was playing with the hem of his dress. In a moment, Henry looked away, finding you watching him. He scowled at you, and you lifted an eyebrow at him. He shook his head and you shrugged.

You laid back down and Vic pushed himself over to lay his head on your stomach. Sighing, you ran your fingers over his scalp, through his hair. He hummed, taking your hand and putting it to his mouth, kissing your fingertips, your knuckles. Closing your eyes, you let him, enjoying that little expression of love.

You wondered when you’d be able to tell him you loved him, too. If you ever would.

Surely, you would.

You fell asleep like that.

Some time later, you woke up to Vic kneeling beside you, his hands cradling your face.

“Baby,” he said. “Wake up. Belch’s here.”

“Mm,” you grumbled. “I don’t wanna.”

“C’mon,” he said. “He’s gonna take us back to mine.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Okay.”

You got up and climbed down the ladder into the barn, following as Vic pulled you by one hand out to the Trans Am. Belch, sweating, leaned up against the driver’s side of the car.

“What was so important that you needed Amy?” he asked.

“You didn’t tell him?” you asked Vic.

“Nah,” he said. “Didn’t seem important.”

“We took Patrick shopping,” you said, looking around, finding Patrick and Henry on the porch, talking quietly. Patrick made Henry laugh, and Henry shoved him, roaring.

“Huh,” said Belch. “That explains… the dress.”

“Yeah,” said Vic. “There’s more where that came from.”

“Patrick!” you yelled.

“What?” he yelled back.

“C’mon, Belch’s taking us home.”

“No. I’m staying here.”

You heard Henry say huh?

“I’ll see you tonight,” Patrick said.

You held back a laugh, shooting Vic a look. He handed it back with a grin.

In tandem, you and Vic lifted yourselves into the back seat and Belch got into the driver’s seat. You laid down, your head in Vic’s lap, his fingers in your hair.

You woke up as the car pulled to a stop.

“We’re here, baby,” Vic said.

You groaned, rolling so your face was hidden in his lap.

“Aw, c’mon,” he said. “You can do it. C’mon.”

“Don’t wanna,” you said.

“If you don’t get out, I’m going back there and pulling you out myself,” Belch said with a laugh in his voice.

“Ugh, fine,” you said, pushing yourself up to sitting, then hauling yourself out the open window.

Vic laughed, watching as you clumsily found the ground.

“Hey,” you said, pointing at him as he followed you out of the car. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“I know, baby,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, stretching as Belch put the car in drive again and pulled away. You waved goodbye, knowing he would be watching in the rearview.

“C’mon,” Vic said. “Looks like my parents are out.”

“Cool,” you said, following as he pulled you into the house and up to his bedroom.

When you got there, you flopped back on his bed, feet on the floor, hands over your eyes.

“Why are you so sleepy, baby?” Vic asked, laying down beside you.

“Ugh,” you said. “I don’t fucking know.”

He chuckled. Then he pulled your hands away from you face and kissed you, rolling over so he could hover over you.

It was such a sweet kiss. Slow and soft. Grinning into it, you slipped your tongue into his mouth and he let out a quiet moan, his hands tangling in your hair. He ground down on you and you slid one hand between you, raking your fingernails over his pants, over his crotch.

“Baby,” he groaned, pulling away from you.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna — you make me wanna — fuck.”

“What?” you asked, grinning.

You leaned up and licked at his lips, playful and sweet.

“God, I just. I wanna fuck you,” he said.

“Yeah?” you asked. “Do it.”

He pulled back, looking your face over.

“Are you… you sure, baby?” he asked. “Are you… ready for that?”

“Yeah,” you said, soft. “I’m ready.”

He got off of you, pulling you up off the bed after him. You watched, head tilted to the side, as he took off his clothes, starting with his shoes and ending with his pants. He left his boxers on, and you smiled, stepping in to him and hooking your fingers into the waistband, slowly pulling them down.

His cock was still mostly soft, and you got to your knees, giving the head just the smallest lick before you looked up at him.

Looking down at you with nothing less than adoration, he stood, his mouth open, watching as you took his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head and pumping the last few inches with one of your hands. You closed your eyes, memorizing the feel of him in your mouth, and you heard him sigh before he put his hands in your hair again, gently pulling.

“Never wanna forget this,” he said.

“Mm?” you mumbled, your mouth still full of him.

“How pretty you look with me in your mouth,” he said. “Fucking gorgeous.”

You smiled with your eyes up at him, pulling off wetly.

“I’d look better with you fucking me,” you said. “I’ve heard that’s when I look my best.”

You’d actually heard it from a girl you’d fucked around with a long time ago. But the statement still stood.

“Baby,” he said, petting your hair, slow. “You always look good. I don’t know if I could pick when you look the best.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” you asked, getting to your feet and yanking your sweat-damp shirt off over your head.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching down to undo your pants and pull them off, getting to his knees to help as you stepped out of your shoes and then your pants.

He pulled your underwear down last, getting them to your ankles before he leaned in and licked at you. You sighed, closing your eyes and putting your hands in his hair.

“Vic,” you moaned after a particularly good lick. “Vic, babe, we gotta — if you keep doing this —”

“I know, baby,” he said.

He got to his feet and pulled you to the bed. He sat down and pushed himself away from the edge so his feet were on the bed.

“Want you on my lap,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, soft.

You crawled onto the bed, into his lap, wrapping your legs around him. He wound an arm around your back, lifting you up.

“Wait,” you said. “Do you have protection?”

“Oh, Jesus,” he said.

For a second, you were scared. Worried that you’d have to stop, that this wouldn’t be your first time with him, that it would have to come later.

You should have known better. He was one of your boys. They kept condoms around like food and water. You never know when you’ll need one.

“Yeah, just, it’s in the side table,” he said.

You crawled out of his lap, to where the table stood at the side of the bed. Opening the drawer, you found an odd assortment of condoms. Half unfinished packs and singles you couldn’t imagine where he’d gotten them.

You chose one at random and brought it back to him.

“You got such a cute ass,” he said as you knelt in front of him.

Grinning, you handed him the condom, and he ripped it open with his teeth. He rolled it on and beckoned you back into his lap. You got in his space, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him as soon as the condom was on. You put your legs back around him and he lifted you up. You positioned his cock at your hole and sunk down on it.

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your hips in a circle. He grinned at you, then lifted you up on his cock and dropped you.

“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh my god.”

Picking you up again, he dropped you. And again. And again. You closed your eyes and put your head back as he fucked into you. He pulled you down on him and kissed your neck.

“I think —” you started. Then you shook your head.

“No, what’s up?” he asked.

“I think I could love you,” you said.

“Well, you know I love you,” he said, picking you up and dropping you again. “You don’t have to love me too soon.”

“Fuck,” you muttered as he did it again. And again. “But I — I think —”

“Shh,” he said. “It’s fine. You can tell me when we’re finished.”

Shaking your head, you pushed him back so he was laying flat on the bed, pulling your legs up so you were straddling him. You started riding him, hard and fast, and he put a hand to you, stroking you.

“Look so damn good riding me, baby,” he said.

“Yeah? Told you.”

He laughed and then gasped as you moved your hips in a circle. Then you went back to bouncing on his cock.

“Come down here,” he said. “Kiss me.”

You went down and kissed him, holding him with a hand on either side of his neck. He slid his tongue into your mouth as he adjusted his legs so he could keep fucking into you at this angle. Then he slipped a hand between you and went back to stroking at you. Gasping, you propped yourself up with your hands on either side of his head so he could reach you better.

It didn’t take long for you to come.

“Vic,” you moaned. “Vic, oh my god.”

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he said.

And then he pulled you down on him as he came with a groan, screwing his eyes shut.

You pulled off of him and laid beside him, running a hand over his stomach, his chest. Humming a tune you’d picked up from Patrick as you did. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes half shut, a smile on his face.

“I think I could love you,” you said.

“You could?” he asked.

“Well, I might just love you.”

“You might just?” he teased.

“Hey,” you laughed. “I’m trying to be like, emotionally vulnerable, here.”

“I know,” he said, rolling to face you. “Let me get rid of this condom before we talk.”

You huffed and let him do it, watching as he carefully took it off and tied it before throwing it away. Then he came back to you, lying on his side, running his fingertips down your chest, making you shiver.

“I think I love you,” you said.

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“But —”

“No, listen. Listen to me. I love you, and you know that, right?”

You sighed. “Right.”

“You just…. Just barely started thinking of me like this,” he said, gesturing in between the two of you. “Don’t worry about loving me too fast.”

You opened your mouth, and he cut you off, putting a finger over your mouth. Rolling your eyes, you let him talk.

“No,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. When you know, you’ll know, and you can tell me then. Until then, you like me, and that’s enough for me.”

“Are you sure?”’ you asked around his finger, which was still on your lips.

“I’m sure,” he said, taking his hand away from your face.

“Cool,” you said.

“Cool,” he said. “Kiss me?”

So you did.

[dovesandsparrows]

“Guten Morgen, Liebling.” 

The sweet ring of Angela’s familiar voice was like a melody sung by angels to Genji who was still laying in bed amidst way too many pillows. Angela had convinced him that those would make the bedroom look more like the den of love it technically was.

 He smiled at his girlfriend who sat on the bed right next to him. “Good morning to you, too.” Sometimes he wondered whether or not his current life was a dream but again and again Genji reminded himself that his imagination would never be good enough to make up someone as beautiful as Dr. Angela Ziegler. Her white blonde hair, her smooth skin and most of all, her clear blue eyes… There was nothing that could possibly compete with her. 

Genji finally sat up to embrace Angela which she was more than eager to return. “So, which date do we have, Angela?” Genji asked this more or less casually while Angela leaned against him. 

“Oh… It’s March 14th, I think.” 

Her mind was as active as always as she answered, but it wasn't filled with the usual run-through of patients, appointments, and meetings discussing her research and the possibility of further enhancing nanobiology. No, there wasn't any of those in her mind. A special gift was on her mind. 

A gift, in particular, to the man who had curled himself around her and who had made a special (and permanent) place in her heart. 

 She knew of the custom in his homeland where girls and women offered gifts to the special gentleman in their lives, had done the very same in the previous year. But this year, while she was more than happy to present him with his favourite chocolate in return for the crate of Swiss chocolate he gifted her a month ago, she wanted it to be special. She wanted to give him something that would let him know just how important he was to her, how everything in their life right now was a gift that she treasured and would never take for granted.

“Something on your mind?” 

 Genji’s voice shook Angela from her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she had gone quiet, lost in thought about Genji’s surprise gift. She smiled coyly at him, admiring his half-awake appearance as he lay beside her. 

 “Just thinking about some upcoming surgeries I must prepare for,” she lied, not wanting to disclose the truth. She wanted this gift to be a special surprise after all. 

 “Hmm,” Genji replied solemnly, taking her hand gently in his and closing his eyes in drowsiness for a moment. 

 The morning atmosphere was so serene that the two of them didn’t want to get out of bed, although the two of them did have plans today. The big plan for Angela was to get started on Genji’s gift, and figure out how she was going to do so discreetly.

Something was up. All his senses were tingling and something about her tone made him suspect the truth behind what she said. It was not necessarily a bad thing, he knew that she must be planning something pleasant. He had never been good at guessing her intentions, what she would do and when. Well, if he was still as good as he used to be back in his playboy days, she might start accusing him of cheating at life and pout at him angrily all the time. An unbearably cute pout, but still somewhat angry. Mostly cute though.

 Or maybe the tingling was a result of Angela choosing to nuzzle up to him then, a kiss on his cheek followed by brushing her own against it. Genji let out a soft sigh and smiled to himself. He could pin her down and interrogate her via tickles or an unrelenting cuddle. But he supposed that if she was this adamant about keeping her secret, he’ll leave her to her fun while trying to figure it out on his own. That’s what he did best after all.

 “I suppose I should go make breakfast. You make getting out of bed so difficult on me, my dear.” Genji murmured as he planted one last kiss on her forehead before hesitantly wiggling himself out from under the cover and away from her warm embrace. Honestly, she was going to be the death of him and he knew he would gladly accept that fate.

Little did he know, but almost everyone at Watchpoint had put their heads (and robotic computing power, in  Zenyatta’s case) together to help for the special day. It was Angela Ziegler after all. Whether it was world class surgery, cutting edge research or declarations of love, she always poured her heart and soul into it. There were few things that were worth convincing Hanzo Shimada to dress up as a popular Japanese singer. Genji was one of them. 

 As his steps slowly faded down the hall, she ducked her head under the covers and allowed herself a small giggle. She tried to picture his face when he saw what she had come up with. His mouth slightly open in shock. Chocolate brown eyes wide. Cheeks tinged pink. A surprised little sparrow. Her little sparrow.

 “Angela?” Genji’s cheerful voice floated through the door along with the aroma of his famous pancakes. “Breakfast?”

“Coming,”Angela shouted back as Genji was preparing breakfast. Although not much of a cook, he was a master at pancake making. While cooking the last pancake, the ninja heard familiar footsteps drawing closer. 

 Genji decided to surprise his love with his secret technique known as the “over the head pancake flip”. Not a creative name, but an easy one to remember. The ninja attempted and succeeded this technique many times before, but never in front of an audience. “Well no better time than the present,” he thought grabbing an empty plate. 

 “Mmm smells delicious,” the doctor quipped behind him.

Genji grinned wickedly and carried out his plan. The ninja gripped the frying pan handle and with a simple flick of the wrist,flipped the pancake high over his head. He dramatically turn around, the plate in the other hand. “Breakfast is served,” he said seductively. 

 He heard the thump of the pancake, just not on the plate. Panic stewed as he looked to see the pancake was on his lovers face.

 “Your accuracy could use some work liebling,”Angela laughed, taking the pancake off her face and placing it on the plate.

His recovery is admittedly quick, quicker than he thought he'd be: "No need for accuracy when your host is rather strapping. It serves as adequate distraction." The giggles he elicts encourage his face into a warm smile as he settles down across the table from her, with a tower of pancakes to his name.

 "Genji," she indeed says, tucking into her own breakfast, "will you be by the Watchpoint today? I had plans to meet with Winston this morning but my lunchtime is free. I was wondering if you would join me.” 

 It has been a lazy few weeks; Master Zenyatta had returned to Nepal in a summons and wasn’t due back until next week, Lena and Jesse were absent on a press tour around Europe, and Winston had been head-down in planning and communication with the United Nations. There was little to occupy both of their days besides meetings, training and the lazy mornings such as this.

 “I would love to,” he replies, finishing a mouthful of pancake. She’s smiling when he looks up, obviously delighted. “Is there an occasion?” The question betrays something on her face, but she continues smiling, warmly so. Her game would continue throughout the day, it would seem, and he is fully prepared to play into it. 

 Innocently: “Oh, no.” There it is again, the flick of her eyes, her imagination running to lunchtime for whatever her devious plan was. Genji forks another pancake. “It would simply be lovely to see you for lunch.”

His girlfriend smiled like a ray of sunshine as he said that. 

 After they’d finished their breakfast- Angela had to admit that Genji was an excellent cook which she quickly added to her list of things she adored about him- the two got ready for their morning plans and as Angela left, she merely gave Genji a pat on the head, leaving the him a little disappointed. 

 “Angela Ziegler, why can’t you just tell me what you’ve got up your sleeve for today...” He sighed impatiently. 

 Sure, it was pretty enjoyable to play this game with her to have a nice and slow build-up to what was supposed to be the most important day of his life yet. Another sigh.

 Was he really ready for this, though? Ready to ask her the question every woman- as far as he knows- wants to be asked at least once in her life? “Absolutely”, he tried to reassure himself.

 “I am ready to ask her if she wants to marry me.”

He waved as she walked out the door, mind running wild. Would she say yes? If she did, would they be as happy as they were now? Would things between them stay the same? And if she said no... 

 Genji thought it best not to dwell on that thought.

 Lunch wasn’t for a few hours so he busied himself with cleaning what little mess was around their home, doing the laundry, and practising how best to propose in front of the mirror. As silly (and ridiculously vain) as he felt kneeling in front of his own reflection and professing his unconditional love, he wanted his proposal to be amazing. Awe-inspiring. Perfect.  

Just like his (hopefully) soon-to-be-fiancée. 

 With a last sweep of the living room, he made his way to their agreed rendezvous point at the hangar (odd place to meet for lunch but Angela had insisted), right hand nervously fiddling with the small velvet box in his jacket, left hand filled with flowers from their garden. There, tugging at the hem of a dress she wasn’t wearing earlier was Angela Ziegler, smiling with rosy cheeks as he approached the Orca. 

 He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek as he pushed the flowers into her hand, “Angela,” he murmured. “As breath-taking as you look in that dress, why are you wearing it?” 

 Her small smile because a mischievous grin as she gestured for him to turn around.

Dressing up Hanzo as one of Genji’s favorite old time Japanese singers, Jin Akanishi, was not an easy feat. She decided to do something not to serious, and the silliness of Hanzo wearing a wig and sunglasses would help ease any anxiety she had about Genji enjoying his gift. The plan was for Hanzo to lip sync some of Jin Akanishi’s songs while her and Genji danced around the decorated room in Gibraltar. Although the present did seem a bit nonsensical, it was meant to also be the gift to further mend the broken relationship between the Shimada brothers, something Genji has desperately wanted to restore. 

 Now as Angela beckoned for Genji to turn around and enter the room for the surprise, he seemed anxious about something. For a moment she suspected that he knew of her gift and started to grow anxious herself. She started to fiddle with the hem of the skirt of her dress, worrying that she had gone overboard.

 “Would you join me in the next room for lunch?” Angela invited, extending her hand in the direction of the hidden surprise. 

 Genji kept his hand clasped on the velvet box hidden in his jacket. 

 “Angela, I…” Genji’s words faltered as his own nerves started to get the better of him.

Genji stepped toward her with a steady breath to steel himself. There was no way around it. Well, he wasn’t about to delay his proposal for the 17th time. Yes, he had been keeping count. Yes, he knew it wasn’t healthy. No, he was not going to make it become the 18th time.

 Angela smiled at her lover, her hand tapping on the small communication device hidden at her side to signal for Hanzo to prepare to make his appearance as they walked in. Angela knew that timing was important as with most things in life. The timing to truly surprise someone with literal ninja instinct would have to be perfect. 

 The timing was the key to it all, and he could not think of any time better than this. A relaxing day that he could turn into the best day of her life, right before they headed to lunch all alone. He had to do it now. 

 Angela was surprised as she felt her wrist being grabbed and being turned around gently by her lover, doubly so seeing as she was the one that was supposed to be doing the surprising. Did he sense the ambush? Was her cover blown already, even with all that planning? 

 Genji knelt down, bringing the velvet box out in between them. “Angela … Will you marry me?” 

 Their timing was truly impeccable as Hanzo bursted out dramatic into the first verse of his song, only to trail off as he saw the scene that was unfolding.

   Hanzo looked like he was ready to commit honorable seppuku, and Genji wished that he could dismember his brother in the same way Hanzo had sliced him up fifteen years ago.

 “No...” Angela whimpered, feeling panicked about the situation at hand. Her surprise was ruined in the most unexpected way. Hanzo glared at Genji, scandalized that his concert had to be stopped. Meanwhile, her boyfriend looked heartbroken, the box with the ring still in his trembling hands. 

 “I thought I was supposed to be singing Jin Akanishi’s ‘Wonder’.” Hanzo took off his tacky sunglasses and looked at her in confusion.

 “Yes.” Angela answered quietly, still trying to process what her boyfriend had said in the last few seconds. 

 “You’re rejecting me?” whispered Genji, on the verge of tears. 

 “No!” she exclaimed loudly.

 “You just told me to keep singing.”

 “Yes!”

 “I just wanted to tell you that I really love you. Is there something I did wrong?”

 “No! Nothing!” 

 “Jin Akanishi doesn’t have a song called ‘Nothing’. ”

 “I know, just...keep going…replay...” Her voice broke out into a stutter.

 Genji was now looking more lost than sad. “I’ll say it again. Angela, will you --” 

 “I got a dime piece” Hanzo screeched the lyrics of ‘Replay’ into the microphone while gesticulating wildly. “And she my treasure.”

 “Stop! Both of you!” Angela’s dismayed voice echoed loudly through the room.

 “Do you want me to sing or not?!”

 “Do you want me to marry you or not?!”

“Helvete,” Angela groaned. The doctor mentally thanked Torbjörn and his family for “teaching” her Swedish swears.  Now whenever frustrated, Angela says as many Swedish swear words as she can in one sitting. She unceremoniously dropped down to her knees, her hands covering her face. Than Genji heard muffled sniffling.

 “Oh no she’s crying,” Genji thought. 

 He looked to his older brother for help. Hanzo motioned his head towards Angela, mouthing,”Help her.”

 Genji placed the box back in his pocket and embraced his girlfriend. “Angela.. I’m sorry...”Genji stuttered, but stopped when he heard giggling.

 The doctor slowly pulled from his embrace to look at him. Tears were still streaming down her face, but she was smiling.

 “I’m sorry it’s just,” she spoke in between sniffling,”this is just so crazy. I thought I could manage a simple surprise but I should’ve known. With Shimadas, nothing is ever simple.” 

 Genji shrugged, caressing her arms. 

 “But you know what’s crazier?” Angela asked Genji, as she wiped her tears.

 “You mean more than Hanzo dressed up as Jin Akanishi,” Genji smirked as he watched his brother trying to regain some dignity in his costume.

 Angela snorted,”Well yes but..” She placed her hand on Genji’s cheek and guided his face back to hers. 

 “What’s crazier is that I want to spend the rest of my life being with you and your crazy family,” Angela smiled.

Genji held her eyes, the words washing over him like waves of the ocean that creep up to the shore. The smile is contagious, the words leaving his mouth breathlessly, “You do?” 

 She laughs this time, the type of laugh where her eyes crinkle up at the sides, and her whole body radiates sunshine; he can feel it through her palm. 

 “Of course I do. I would not have it any other way.” A beat, and those are tears twinkling in her eyes, crystal and clear. “Yes, Genji. I will marry you.”

 Happiness overtakes him quickly, quicker than his arms around her, where she smiles against his shoulder. Burying his face into her hair, her joy cascading off her shoulders, he has to suppress tears of his own. 

 When they finally part, he realises there is applause. A chorus of it - the whole team is here, all eyes on Angela and Genji joined on the hangar floor. Hanzo is smiling, too, most notably of all. A thought is spared to their afternoon: they came to watch Hanzo embarrass himself at Angela’s request, instead, Genji is a blubbering mess smitten by his new fiance.

 Emotion rides high in the room, and Genji follows the waves, leaning in to meet Angela’s lips. It’s in slow motion, like a dream, blurred, and then disappears when he feels her lips against his. They have kissed many times before, but this is different; a confirmation, a promise. 

 Yes, Genji. I will marry you. 

 The room has passed into the back of their minds, and remains there even as they pull away to rest their foreheads together. In their shared breaths, Angela’s scent overwhelms him - honey and warm sunshine - even more so to wipe away a tear from his face. 

 “I love you,” he murmurs.

 “I love you, too,” is her everlasting reply. “Happy White Day, my love.”

I can't unfeel your pain 

I can't undo what's done I

 can't send back the rain 

But if I could I would

 My love, my arms are open 

So when you feel like you can't take another round of being broken 

My arms are open 

And when you're losing faith and every door around you keeps on closing 

My arms are open

Arms Open - the Script

And this concludes our White Day mini-collab! We want to thank everyone who contributed to making this beautiful story as enjoyable as possible!

All of you did a great job and we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!

♥

The contributors were: @tokicheon @ Luminox @sergeant-bullshit @tancong

@ dsgsmol @ Lenle92  @talizorahs

♥

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Saturday December 2nd – Day 3, Krakow

I started the day with a 5k run as Krakow has a parkrun of its own. Leaving Lynne in the lovely, warm apartment I headed out into the cold, layered up with every piece of running gear I had with me (vest, sweater, jacket, two head-protectors, gloves, the works) and was still frozen by the time I reached the venue, Blonia Park, a flat park on the edge of the old town that used to be used for ceremonial events. It was -5C and a lot of runners were gathered, stamping their feet, swinging their arms and generally trying to keep the blood flow to their extremities going! It was so cold it hurt, so I was very happy when someone yelled to Polish equivalent of “Go!” and we all set off. I ran most of it with a fellow tourist, Mark, from Cambridge as we had a similar pace (or in my case these days, lack of pace) and afterwards there was hot apple tea and someone distributed toffees, before I walked back into town to have a shower and thaw out.

After a late breakfast we headed out to try and do as much of the old town walk that I’d read up on in the In Your Pocket guide as possible. Incidentally, if you don’t know these guides, they are really very thorough, very up-to-date, and I can’t recommend them highly enough. I first used them in the late 2000s when we went to Bucharest, and was impressed by their general attitude and their accuracy (as well as their refusal to sugar coat things). If you’re travelling anywhere in Eastern Europe, I would check whether they cover your destination and download any relevant guides. Oh, and they’re also free.

The walk started at the Barbakan (but it was closed for the Winter) so we admired this sturdy survivor of the 15th century fortification effort, and then took a look at the 14th century Florianska gate and the actual remainder of the city walls (also closed for the Winter months). It’s but a short hop from there to the Juliusz Słowacki Theatre, which has been in use since 1893. It was designed by Jan Zawiejski, and is considered one of the most important examples of theatre architecture in Europe apparently. Unfortunately it too was closed, so we had to settle for admiring it from the outside! It was becoming a bit of a theme.

From there, instead of heading up Florianska street, we sidled round the back to the spectacular St. Mary’s Basilica, which dominates the approach to Rynek Glowny. The church is – as so many are – on the site of a much earlier Romanesque church that was destroyed by the Tartars, and the replacement was consecrated in the 1320s.

It’s changed a bit since then, and is in fact one of the most spectacular church interiors I’ve ever seen. I don’t think there’s a solid surface that hasn’t been painted. The vaulted ceiling in particular is utterly gorgeous.

Over the cen­tu­ries, the church under­went nume­ro­us recon­struc­tions of both its exte­rior and inte­rior, and is fascinating with side-chapels, and gilt everywhere! They really have thrown everything at this one…

However, the real highlight is the late Gothic altarpiece (1477–1489) which is the work of Veit Stoss, and is breathtaking. It is apparently the largest altarpiece of its kind anywhere in the world, and it’s so detailed, so fine, that it’s no wonder that it is regarded as one of Poland’s great treasures.

In the early 15th century the towers were completed, with the northern tower being made into a watchtower. This is where the hejnał mariacki bugle call is played every hour on the hour. The story may or may not be true (and may even have been invented by an American journalist), but the tune stops mid-melody in honour of a possibly mythical trumpeter who was shot in the neck while trying to warn the city’s inhabitants of a Mongol invasion.

After we’d completed our circuit of the church, we headed outside looking for hot chocolate, with little success. The Restaurant Sukiennice had a notice claiming they had hot chocolate, but when we asked, we were told the machine had broken down. They had “cacao” which was pretty much powdered instant hot chocolate, which wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind though it would do in such cold weather.

It did also provide an answer to the question that had raised its head the night before as to whether you could grow wine in Poland or not. Turns out you can!

Suitably defrosted we headed round to pick up tickets for the Rynek Underground museum then continued to see what there was to see on the Old Town walk. This included this chap who sits outside one of the cafes (he was a regular in life and remains so after death):

We took in the Town Hall Tower, which is all that is left of what looks like it would have been a truly spectacular building had it survived the centuries unscathed. We took the advice of the guidebook which suggested that the inside was not especially interesting, and didn’t bother paying to go and look at the interior. We did however wander round the outside trying to work out which way it leans. It may be a lean of 55cm but we couldn’t quite see it ourselves.

From there we continued down to the very fine St. Francis’ Basilica, which is another highly decorated church, this time done in more recent times. This is an art nouveau masterpiece, and once again there is barely a surface without decoration. although the church is 13th Century, it was painted by Stanisław Wyspiański, who was clearly a man of many talents, not least of them being representing flowers!

He also seems to have been good at windows…

After we’d browsed around we headed back to Rynek, so that we could see the fascinating Rynek Underground museum. We’d picked up tickets earlier in the day for it as it’s yet another of the attractions with both timed entry and limited numbers at any given time. It’s a good thing in many ways, though it does mean you need to be a bit clever about what you want to see and when. The Underground Museum is a brilliant exploration of the history of Krakow, with particular reference to the Cloth Hall itself and it’s very chequered history. I didn’t take any photos in the museum, though it was permitted – my camera had taken against Krakow and the flash had jammed. No amount of cursing or for that matter poking at it with various instruments made any difference so I was stuck with ambient light (and there was nowhere near enough of that). For once I’d opted not to bring a spare camera either…

Anyway, having learned a lot about the development of the area, around two and a half hours after we’d gone in, we came back out, blinking into the Christmas lights and desperate for a drink! On the way out is the Arkady Cafe and Shot Bar, which is mostly underground, though apparently has a separate entrance upstairs, and we quickly established that their opening hours were very different to the Museum’s hours. We ordered cake and finally, three days in, got a real hot chocolate along with the world’s densest chocolate cake!

From there it was a short haul back through the snow to the apartment for a relatively quick change, and a tram ride back across town to the Jewish Quarter (Kasimierz) and our restaurant for the evening. This should have been simple – but wasn’t. First we found a tram stop on the right line, but only on one side. This meant if we got the tram there we’d be going the wrong way. So round the corner we headed where we finally found the right stop, only to realise we’d just missed the tram we needed and the next one was around 20 minutes away, with the snow coming down heavier than ever.

When it finally arrived we had to figure out which stop we needed to get off at. This proved far easier and within a few minutes we were shaking the snow off our boots in the doorway of Studio Qulinarne, a very avant garde kitchen in an old and lovingly converted old bus garage, with some very odd decor!

A short stay in the cocktail bar section while we took it turns to dry off in the ladies’ room (the towels in there came in very handy for drying snow-sodden hair) netted us a pair of cocktails in the shape of a very pleasant Kir Imperiale (made with cava and Chambord). We were off to a good start, and it was even better when the lovely waiting staff spirited our snow-covered boots away to a cupboard somewhere; the last time I made a snow coated entrance like that to a restaurant in was the Palais Schwarzenberg in Vienna back in about 2001!

After we finished our drinks, we were happy to be shown to our table, by a window and underneath on of the upside-down Christmas trees. A study of the menu was relatively easy as they only do a 5- or 7-course set menu. The 7-course looked excellent so we decided to go for it, with a matching wine pairing, asking the sommelier if they would make sure we could try some Polish wines as part of the selection. They were more than willing to do that…

A tiny selection of amuse bouches arrived promptly along with a glass of Champagne. There was lightly pickled broccoli, cod, smoked goose, and a lovely foie gras mousse.

There was also bread, and butter but we tried to stay away from that, at least until we got an idea of the size of the portions. The people on the next table were a course ahead, and it didn’t look too scary, but it’s easy to be lulled into a false sense of security!

The first course was bull trout, not a fish I’d encountered before, but not so different from salmon or normal trout, with beetroot and dill. It was delicate, with the fish coming through strongly despite the presence of the dill (which can be overpowering but wasn’t). The beetroot was very gently pickled and lovely – I’m over being beetrooted-out after Copenhagen now I think…

Sadly I don’t have a list of the wines we drank with each course, so I’ll just say they were excellent choices. The next course was a tender, tasty piece of rabbit with basil and celery, which again could have been overpowered by the herb but instead of gloriously enhanced. It was also beautifully fragile looking.

The next course should have been pork with onion and Brussels sprouts, but as neither of use get on that well with pork, and Lynne hates Brussels sprouts, I’d let the kitchen know in advance that we would like a substitute. They gave us, instead, a glorious cod dish with tomato and bull trout “salt”, which turned out to be the skin, roasted, dried and crumbled. Damn, but this was a good one, the perfectly flaked fish swimming in a tomato consomme.

The fish theme continued with zander with apple and sour cream, a fresh, crisp plateful with a lovely dense sour cream quenelle, that we both thoroughly enjoyed. We were starting to feel we’d made exactly the right restaurant choice for a Saturday night.

Things took a fresh turn with the meat course, which was described as deer with jerusalem artichoke and coffee. Coffee really can enhance the flavour of strong, gamey meat and it certainly did its job here. The Jerusalem artichokes were actually very good too, and it’s not a vegetable I can usually see the point of – in fact prior to this, the only time I’ve really enjoyed it was as a Jerusalem artichoke cappuccino a long time ago at Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons.

We were on the home straight not, with desserts – in the plural of course. First up was hibiscus and plum, the main attraction a plum ice cream, with a variety of extras. It was lively, tasty, and also refreshing after all that fish, and the depths of the venison.

A second dessert was caramel, peanuts and popcorn. It didn’t disappoint, the caramel and peanut cake offering some surprising textures and tastes to round off the meal.

All that remained was to eat the petit fours, which were thankfully very restrained, and pay the bill.

The restaurant ordered us a taxi and we coasted home through the snow, happily full of food, and insulated from the weather.

  Food/Travel 2017 – Krakow, Day 3 Saturday December 2nd – Day 3, Krakow I started the day with a 5k run as Krakow has a…

[incaseyouart]

Time for another batch-answer!! Sorry if this is impersonal but I didn’t want to spam people’s dashes!!

1. Yes I like to try and avoid white backgrounds when I can! Even if it’s just a simple block of colour.

2. This is a FAQ - I use Fire Alpaca, which is amazing and free for the PC and Mac. I’m not sure if it works on a Chromebook but I assume it does? You could also try Medibang Paint which is very similar and also free!

3. Congrats!!

4. My animation professors have told me that if you’re doing it properly you actually should lose track of time - something about using the right brain. References are ESSENTIAL to creating accurate art, so yes, they are extremely helpful and I’m glad you’re using them!!!  DAPGO is a treasure trove :D

5. Yes I think you should post your art!! People will give both negative AND positive feedback - I believe you have to receive constructive criticism to grow as an artist. That’s literally all that working in a studio or for clients is - creating your stuff and then getting revisions (but it has to be constructive, not just empty feedback like “that sucks” or “that’s great”). Please read these posts on self-esteem!

6. Haha I love that phanime, and I’m so grateful @arctoids let me collaborate with her for the third episode!!

7. Hello! Thanks :D There are some ideas on this art challenge list I made here: http://incaseyouart.tumblr.com/post/155100106331/31-art-challenges

8. See answer 5! And don’t focus on notes/likes/social currency so much as creating stuff for YOU and your friends - if you genuinely are happy about the stuff you share, then people will enjoy it more, seeing you’re happy.

9. Thank you!! I have had a lot of practice drawing Phil hahah~

10. My favourite thing about being an artist is creating my own content - like, not original characters because mostly I draw fanart - but seeing inspirational things (like Dan and Phil), having a vision in my head, and being able to translate that vision into something visual.

11. HAHA DID YOU JUST ASK ME FOR EDITING TIPS?! Basically just practice with timing I guess? I’ve been editing videos for like, 10 years now, with various software (Adobe Premier, iSkysoft, Windows Movie Maker, and recently iMovie which is the best ever omg) and each time I learn more about how to cut clips and time them to music, how to add in sound effects, change opacity of the clips etc.. I’ve kind of just been learning it all on my own slowly - I’m sure there are tutorials on Youtube!!

12. It’s okay to take a break! Here’s my advice about getting over art block.

13. http://incaseyouart.tumblr.com/tagged/watercolour%20tips I’ll try to make a video soon!

14. I’m glad you’re feeling better and that I could contribute to that :D Thank you! Have a good one ^_^

15. Try some of my art challenges!!

16. Can you go out to a cafe or maybe a library or some other public venue with table space?

17. Wacom Intuos Draw (Small) is what I use (see my tags about drawing tablets here)

18. Being able to critique your own work is an essentially critical skill to growing as an artist. But you have to balance self-critique with positive feedback - try to find two things good and one thing you need to work on. For example maybe the head and eyes are really well drawn, but you can work on the hands? Seeing your mistakes and then knowing how to correct them is a REALLY really good skill, NOT a bad habit. For tutorials on shading, Google has some good ones - the most important thing is figuring out your light source(s), and knowing the physics (plane changes) of whatever you’re drawing.

19. Yup pretty sure! If you scroll through all my palette challenges here you’ll see them~

20. Just drag & drop the image file directly into the software and it becomes a layer, and then lower its opacity - BUT I WOULD HIGHLY DISCOURAGE TRACING DIRECTLY FROM IMAGE. INSTEAD YOU SHOULD REALLY TRY TO REFER TO/COPY FROM AND MAKE IT YOUR OWN.

21. I would just use a mouse, personally!

22. So, with realism, it’s more difficult because there’s the expectation that all the details and proportions have to be EXACTLY accurate - as realistic as possible - and that takes a more time and patience than a caricature of a human figure/face. But, to accurate caricature something you need to be able to draw it realistically first. So in my opinion cartoon-style is both easier (you can communicate the same body language/emotions with less lines/detail) but also harder because you need to have everything be SIMPLE but also ACCURATE.

23. I often think a sketch looks better than the lineart because with a sketch you are more free as you draw - it is messy but also all the lines flow well and it just looks more organic. When you focus on making the lines perfect or cleaner you lose some of that organic flow. My suggestion would be to do an extra step in between the sketch and finished lineart - so draw your image 3 times - sketch, rough lineart, clean lineart. It might help transition your cleaned version a bit better!

24. Break down the figures into LINES OF ACTION and basic shapes before adding ANY detail at all. Check out my life drawing gestures here!

25. Aaaah sorry I hope I answered in time - regardless of medium you have to break down the face into basic shapes and guidelines before adding any details. Charcoal can blend really well to shade easily!  

26. When I have time, yes!

27. Just a simple “hello” would do, I think! That way the person on the other end can greet you back, and then you’ve established a connection without the pressure of thinking of any topics of conversation - you could put the ball in their court, so to speak. Also you could just like and reblog a bunch of content you like, and leave nice comments!

28. Haha I don’t know if any of it is natural talent - it took me 14.5 years of almost constant practicing to get to where I am now!

29. Yay, more fanart!! ALL THE ART!

30. Oh my God thank you that’s so sweet (this makes me think of what people say about Phil Lester because he’s such a ray of sunshine <3)

31. It’s okay to take breaks! Step away from drawing for a while and just write a story, or read, or play outside, or do a sport, or anything else you like! Don’t force yourself to draw!

32. Watch my video on self-esteem for artists and hopefully it’ll motivate you: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5AjCbYrPlk&t=95s You’ll only get better at a skill if you practice it :D

33. I would just get the better drawing tablet first if you can afford it - unless the cheaper one is a good brand like Huion or Wacom!

34. You are improving if you use references, trust me. An easy way to see improvement is looking back at your old art, and maybe redrawing it?

35. Yay! Yeah tools can be common amongst artists - it’s just the level of practice and time put in :D

36. It can take a while to gain a strong following, but keep doing what you’re doing and people will come!!! Keep creating and sharing with the world :D

Thanks for all the asks guys~

[waynekelton]

The Best Upcoming iOS & Android Games 2019

The mobile gamer can look back at 2018 with an affectionate and misty eye, secure in the knowledge that gaming on mobile devices gets more diverse, sophisticated and polished with each year. In this respect, 2019 also is shaping up to be a banner year on this front.

Roughly speaking, the most exciting upcoming games can be split into three groups: the name-brand megahits-in-waiting, boardgame adaptations, and indie projects. Read on to see what the who’s who of mobile gaming are cooking up for this year’s treats.

Dire Wolf Digital (Board Game)

This isn't the name of a game, but the name of a company that announced this year they're making a bucket-load of digital board game adaptations. Because we only have the announcement text to go on, we've decided to keep the new games all in one place until we know more. The games Direwolf are bringing to digital (which afawk also includes mobile devices) are:

Mage Knights – It's worth noting this is the first step in a bigger agreement with WizKids, so it's likely we'll be seeing more announcements this year.

Wings of Glory – A popular table-top aerial skirmish game.

Raiders of the North Sea – An excellent worker placement game themed around the 8th and 9th century viking raids (pictured).

Yellow & Yangtze – a Reiner Knizia tile placement game of civilization building.

Sagrada – A dice drafting game about creating works of art.

Root – the recent Kickstarter sensation about asymmetrical warfare in the woods.

We're not sure which project is due to appear first - possible WizKids & Mage Knights, given the importance that project has within the announcement? We'll update as we learn more.

Evolution (Board Game)

This was on the 'MIA' until recently, when North Star Digital announced that it would finally be releasing on February 12th. This is a digital adaptation of the popular boardgame of the same name, where you play as emergent species attempting to survive and adapt. You must use cards and combine traits to make sure your species gets the food it needs to live. This is a game of up to four players, and will feature a solo campaign vs. AI, as well as cross-platform online multiplayer.

Mario Kart Tour (Racing)

It’s been practically a year since this title was first announced and outlined with few concrete details added between now and then. Nintendo’s mobile offerings have run the gamut, from the premium Mario Run, the Miitomo social & style app everyone tried and forgot about, to the successful and generally great Fire Emblem: Warriors. Mario Kart is a treasured and classic franchise, even amongst Nintendo offerings, so that reputation guarantees some level of careful handling. It remains an open question whether the game will be a premium or freemium model, but the launch date is still projected to be March.

Diablo Immortal (Action RPG)

Diablo Immortal will draw some side-eye and mockery, having been already made notorious because of its horribly mistimed announcement. (Yes, we have phones, but read the room, Activision-Blizzard). Even more puzzlingly, the game is being created in partnership with NetEase, a Chinese developer whose resume already includes ‘Eternal Realm’ (无尽神域) itself essentially a Diablo clone. Weird stuff: the official license merging with a pretender to the throne to make a hybrid project together. Concerns about endless grind or re-skinning of Eternal Realm are well-founded, but while most of us will be as judge-y as possible we’ll also probably still give the final product a try. Good action RPGs live or die by loot, character progression and above all, delicate-yet-accurate controls, so it will be interesting to see if Diablo Immortal will be a good game as well as the inevitable cash cow.

Artifact (CCG)

Two juggernauts of early-aughts gaming, Valve and Richard Garfield, collaborated to create Artifact, a lane-based card game with its theme and heroes lifted from DOTA 2. Launching on desktops this November, the game has been universally praised for its gameplay and just as roundly (and soundly, I might add) panned for its multi-layered pay scheme, which presents significant barriers to entry and requires quite the investment. The game is a purchase upfront, with tournament tickets and the chance to earn cards in-game through other methods both requiring further shills at some point. Yes, there is an individual card market which allows powerful and rapid deckbuilding, but at what cost? Amazing game with an incredibly rocky launch, but its trade winds are already shifting. The game is excellent and its market & monetization can only improve. Watch this space.

Five Tribes (Boardgame)

Five Tribes, oldie but goodie, will make its digital debut this year. Days of Wonder has been updating and digitising its catalogue at a steady pace and with fantastic results. Five Tribes central mechanic is just like mancala. Pick a space and drop the meeples one by one along the path. Dead simple, but if you think it makes the game easy, you’d be dead wrong. The Five Tribes each possess unique scoring criteria and effects, and the turn-order bid means timing depends on correctly valuing the current layout. Many simple bits add up to make a nigh-perfect game.

Scythe: Digital Edition (Boardgame)

In another history, the Great War also ruined Europe and annihilated a generation, but its nations and technologies faced the blight and devastation quite differently. With large mechs, steampunk agricultural combines and faux-Eurasian player nations, Scythe gives each player a unique entity to steer to victory. Engine building games are always efficiency races, conversion puzzles, but Scythe’s unique setting, eye-catching miniatures and indirect player confrontation quickly made a it a fan favorite amongst the gaming community. Its rollout on Steam has been smooth experience, with decent AI and a robust tutorial. The assets and UI will translate well to mobile and what used to cost near three figures will be available to most anyone for a fraction of the price.

Terraforming Mars (Boardgame)

Terraforming Mars sounds like a noble goal for all of humanity. In reality, the game is a push-and-pull competition for corporations to garner by prestige by...terraforming Mars. Three categories: oxygen, temperature and ocean coverage dictate the endgame, but to get there, players will reshape the red planet into a bright blue hope. It’s a Euro though-and-though: precisely balanced, intricately co-dependent and inevitably point-based. But the close match between theme and mechanic makes this game deeply satisfying and intuitive to learn and explain, and the action selection mechanic is uniquely innovative and inspired. Just when I think boardgame design is tapped out, something truly exceptional rises to the top.

Mew-Genics (Sim)

This one has been incubating forever but should be worth it when it finally gets here. Ed McMillen (of Binding of Isaac fame) has been teasing this cat-breeding simulator for ages. The game has been described as a mix of Tamagotchi, Pokemon and the Sims, with its signature art style courtesy of McMillen. All bets for a playful wild game about the weirdness, sweetness, malice and all-around havoc of cat-raising seem to be right on the money. The ideas are there, the premise is promising, the only question remaining is when it will get here.

Overland (Finji) (TBS/Survival) 

Overland is tactical turn-based survival meets cross-country road trip (from hell). Each waypoint is a battle, a flashpoint conflict over some minor life-extending objective. Its overland map and procedural generation seem reminiscent of FTL (or its follow-up Into the Beach) but the setting here is familiar people struggling with post-apocalyptic daily hardship. Water, medicine, gas, weapons: the items are banal but vital. The game uses minimalism and scarcity to great effect, sketching characters and strategic scenarios alike with the barest elements.

Impossible Bottles (Rhythm/Action)

Various robots move about in their bottles and raging about like a bull in a china shop. Each level presents one of these Impossible Bottles for the player to fix by manipulating the environment and repairing the situation, or at the very least soothing its sole occupant. A scientist built these robots as part of a perpetual motion machine for unlimited energy, but they don’t quite work as is. The secret to fixing everything is music, or in gameplay terms: rhythm. One-touch gameplay and lush, fantastic art, with a slated mid-year release.

Nowhere Prophet (Card Game)

Nowhere Prophet: this one is a doozy and a little secretive. The dark horse of this race, if you will. In the game, post-apocalyptic leaders trek across a scabrous landscape to gather supporters and supplies, occasionally clashing with foes or environmental dangers. This card game has grid-based combat as well procedurally generated encounters. It’s a card-battler roguelike, essentially, with a unique setting and what seems to be a robust battle system.

Heaven’s Vault (Interactive Fiction)

Inkle (of 80 Days interactive fiction fame) has been teasing their mechanically ambitious Heaven’s Vault for some time now. An archaeologist-slash-xenolinguist explores the dusty remains of an alien civilization on an unknown planet, with a vivid backdrop of sienna sand and celestial blue. There’s some pretty nifty procedural tricks behind the code-breaking and translation, and while its approach to storytelling is a little less handcrafted, it has the potential to have even more surprises and replayability than the globe-trotting 80 Days.

Other Missing Games From 2018

As a reminder, here is a quick list of some other games we were expecting last year, but never turned up:

Void Tyrant (card game/RPG)

Bad North (RTS)

Exodus: Proxima Centauri (Boardgame)

Dungeon Warfare 2 (Tower Defence)

Epic Card Game (Card Game)

Lord of the Rings Living Card Game (Card Game)

Monster Slayers (Card Game) 

EVE: War of Ascension (MMO)

Best 2019 Mobile Releases So far

There's already been some excellent releases this year, and not all of them were expected/on this list. If you haven't already, check these games out:

Star Traders: Frontiers (RPG)

Legends of Andor (Boardgame)

Seen any other games coming out this year you're excited about? Let us know in the comments.

The Best Upcoming iOS & Android Games 2019 published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

[williamsjoan]

PAX Unplugged 2018 — Our Four Favorite Tabletop Games from the Show

The first thing you’ll notice when walking into PAX Unplugged, the tabletop gaming convention from Penny Arcade, is that the whole thing is quite literally unplugged. Ditching the ubiquitous, towering high-definition screens of Comic-Con, E3, and other traditional PAX conventions, PAX Unplugged is much kinder on the senses with its sole focus on tabletop gaming.

PAX Unplugged 2018 ended almost a month ago, and yet, I can’t stop thinking about the tabletop games I had the opportunity to play while there. In a busy holiday season littered with familial obligations and beefy single-player video game releases, PAX Unplugged reminded me of the camaraderie and fellowship that accompanies tabletop gaming. Sometimes, it’s nice to cut the cord and pull up a chair around the table, and PAX Unplugged promises just that.

Without any further ado, here are some of the games I played at PAX Unplugged that have stuck with me in one way or another.

Godsforge

Godsforge is an upcoming game from Brendan Stern where players take on the role of magical blacksmiths that are able to conjure creatures and spells. Effortlessly blending high-fantasy lore with Yahtzee-inspired dice mechanics, Godsforge hits a magnificent stride between luck and skill oriented gameplay styles.

The core gameplay loop of Godsforge is pretty simple—players simultaneously roll four dice, trying to roll the dice values present on the card they wish to activate. If they’re not happy with the results of their roll, they may reroll any number of dice two times or spend veilstones (Godsforge’s in-game currency) to augment the values of their dice. The creatures and spells activated with these rolls offer a large array of outcomes from providing health, giving players a shield, attacking the player to the left, or granting players a temporary or permanent effect. The only way to win Godsforge is to be the last man standing, or if every player dies, end up with the least negative health points.

One of the coolest things about Godsforge is the way that it unravels at the end of each match; once one player is eliminated, surviving players take a hearty seven damage each round until the game is over. This mechanic ensures that games won’t drag out, and more importantly, that your fellow players won’t have to wait too long to get back in on the action. Considering that all of the actions in the game take place simultaneously, every facet of Godsforge seeks to keep all players at the table engaged at all times.

Godsforge is expected to come out in the second quarter of 2019.

Star Realms: Frontiers

I have to be honest—I didn’t think I could play a deck-building game in 2018 that would make me desperate to jump back into the genre. Burnout from (fantastic) games like The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring Deckbuilding Game and Tyrants of the Underdark made me prioritize more board-oriented wares in my search for my next tabletop purchase. That’s why I was so surprised when I fell in love with Star Realms Frontiers, a space-themed deck-building game that does everything right.

It’s important to note that Star Realms: Frontiers didn’t introduce me to any new deck-build mechanics or features: in no way did the game change what I thought about the deck-building genre or change my outlook on it. However, that being said, Star Realms: Frontiers feels like the perfect amalgamation of the genre—it understands what works, what doesn’t work, and trims the excess fat off what makes similar titles feel sluggish and unbalanced. This doesn’t come as much of a surprise; after all, Star Realms Frontiers is a soft-reboot and a rebalancing of 2014’s Star Realms. Labeled as a standalone expansion, Frontiers rebalances the original Star Realms’ formula and provides an incredibly streamlined, ultimately rewarding deck-building experience.

Star Realms: Frontiers’ play begins like every other deck-building game; players are given starting cards that either contain currency (called Trade) or deal damage (called Combat) to other players. Using this starting currency, players buy additional cards (made up of ships and bases) from the game’s in-game market that are then placed into their discard piles and shuffled into their deck when necessary.

Like a lot of deck-building games, Star Realms Frontiers contains a ton of in-game synergy; however, in Star Realms: Frontiers this synergy is color-coded. Red Faction cards will buff other red Faction cards, while blue Faction cards generally help other blue Faction cards. While this may seem overly simple, you still have to balance card acquisition with having enough Trade, as well as watching out for opponents stocking up on the same Factions.

One of my favorite aspects of Frontiers is its bases. Unlike ships, which upon being used are discarded, bases stay in front of players until they’re destroyed. Some of these bases contain gray shields, shields that protect the base from a certain threshold of damage: other bases contain black shields, shields that prevent any player from attacking the base’s owner until the base is destroyed. In addition to providing lasting gameplay effects, these bases become invaluable in the late stages of Star Realms: Frontiers. Seeing as the game’s objective is to be the last one standing, these bases become critical for avoiding opponents’ attacks.

Star Realms: Frontiers (like the original Star Realms) was funded through a Kickstarter campaign and raised over $1.1 million last year. The game contains a treasure trove of add-ons and expansions and shows no signs of stopping. You can buy Star Realms: Frontiers for $19 on Amazon.

…and then we died

I have to get something off my chest—I’ve never played Dungeons & Dragons. Yes, I understand that D&D is a tabletop rite of passage, and yes, I understand that I have no excuse at this point. However, it never felt like there was a right time for me to get into the game. Throughout my teenage years, it seemed like I would never be able to wrangle up enough folks to start a proper D&D campaign. Similarly, in adulthood, it seems almost laughable to think I can regularly get the same group of people together week-after-week.

As a result of my life-long aversion to D&D, I’ve never really played a tabletop role-playing game. This was a secret I shamefully carried around with me until I reached killjoys’ booth at PAX Unplugged and played the wonderful …and then we died.

…and then we died isn’t exactly a role-playing game; it’s more of a storytelling game that allows you to roleplay. Additionally, it’s the only game on this list (and the only game I played at PAX) where there’s no winner or loser. Designed to be played when “there are some bottles on the table,” (according to the killjoy representative), ATWD tasks players with recounting the story of how they died.

ATWD’s gameplay is extremely simple; players draw cards that have letter fragments on them and, at the end of their turn, add a card to the existing pile on the table to create a new word. The next person to improvise the story must incorporate that word in some way. For example, when a fellow player created the word “Sin” and chose me to continue the story, I threw a wrench in our story and stated that somebody at the table was lying, and thus, sinning against God. Once every card has been played, the last player must wrap the story up and conclude the game by saying the phrase “and then we died.”

Keyforge

I’ve played Keyforge four times now and I’m not sure if I love it or hate it. That being said, Keyforge served as the silent center of PAX Unplugged 2018. Final Flight Games, Keyforge’s publisher, operated a demonstration area for the game that was consistently packed to the brim during the show. In fact, the owner of Top Deck Games, a New Jersey game shop, told me that he sold nearly 1,600 Keyforge decks over the duration of PAX Unplugged this year.

So what exactly is Keyforge? Created by Magic the Gathering designer Richard Garfield, Keyforge is a “unique deck game.” If you’ve never heard this term before don’t worry: Keyforge claims that it’s the world’s first “unique deck game.” Incorporating aspects of trading card games and living card games, Keyforge is essentially a procedurally-generated card game, with each deck in the world containing a different combination of cards.

Buying a Keyforge deck is essentially like buying a loot box. While this may seem unpalatable for some, it’s certainly enticing to those (like me!) that don’t wish to spend a small fortune on Magic cards. Additionally, the joy of parsing through a new deck and figuring out its mechanics is unbeatable. While I’m not sure if Keyforge will have the stopping power of Garfield’s other projects (especially Magic the Gathering), it’s certainly a novel concept.

Stray Observations from PAX Unplugged 2018:

-It’s kind of refreshing to not pay extremely ridiculous prices for food at a convention. After being rinsed by New York Comic-Con during the most frugal days of my youth, it’s definitely refreshing to buy a Diet Coke and a pretzel in Philadelphia for less than $10.

-The verdict is in: Pat’s rules and Geno’s drools. While I enjoyed both of the cheesesteaks, Pat’s felt a million times greasier and that’s how a cheesesteak should feel. I will not be reading any comments.

-The city planners that worked on Philadelphia deserve a raise. The bus station, the convention center, and my hotel all happened to be on the same block. Getting to PAX Unplugged was one of the easiest, hassle-free traveling experiences (for a convention) of my life.

-Nintendo Switch travel update: I played exactly one run of Enter the Gungeon before falling asleep on the bus.

The post PAX Unplugged 2018 — Our Four Favorite Tabletop Games from the Show by Travis Verbil appeared first on DualShockers.

PAX Unplugged 2018 — Our Four Favorite Tabletop Games from the Show published first on https://timloewe.tumblr.com/

[swipestream]

Steal This System: Pathfinder’s Discovery Points

For years I’ve been kicking around a system in my head for simplifying hex crawls, point crawls, West Marches style games, megadungeons, etc… Something that keeps but abstracts the process of wandering, searching, and eventually discovering points of interest without requiring the potential for entire sessions to end up as fruitless wandering and random encounters and without demanding ridiculously detailed maps. It would probably revolve around skill checks of some sort with a chance to discover points of interest and add them to the map. I even hinted at it in a prior article, but I never really firmed it up or got it to a state that I thought it would work quite right. So of course in the process of looking up overland movement in the Pathfinder system, I discover that last November they beat me to it, publishing a “Discovery Point system” in their book: Ultimate Wilderness that not only hits all the high points I would want to and is elegantly simple but is largely system neutral. It DOES make use of Pathfinder-based skill checks and DCs but it would be simple to swap them out for skills and DCs or an analog from another system. What’s more, it’s scalable and nestable in a way that means with appropriate scaling and adjustment you can use it or a variant for pretty much any exploration mechanic that you need in your game.

Links:

The system on the Pathfinder SRD with an example

The book on Paizo’s site in case you want the full work it comes from

The basics of the system are simple:

Discovery Points: The system introduces a new currency type called “Discovery Points” that are used to uncover points of interest on the map.

Each day each character makes a survival check: More success=get more discovery points, More failure=LOSE more discovery points (because you just drew part of the map upside down or misidentified a landmark or something). This encourages characters who aren’t really cut out for exploration to use the aid another action or spend their time doing other things: fortifying camp, using a subsystem to make maps and gazetteers, hunting for food and water, translating an old book the party found, whatever.

Characters can accumulate bonus discovery points by “interpreting waypoints”: This terminology makes it sound like inspecting physical landmarks but it’s just shorthand for any way of figuring out the location of points of interest other than stomping through the wilderness. In the example territory given three methods are flying overhead, talking to locals, and decoding a journal.

After some discovery points are accumulated, the party spends them to uncover known or unknown points of interest: Points they KNOW are there, they just don’t know WHERE, get paid for directly. If they’re looking to just uncover anything of interest they can blow a specified amount of points and hope there are unknown points of interest that cost half that or less.

The SRD explains the system as well as some subsystems and details target numbers and some other finer points. There is an example territory to illustrate, a small canyon with 3 points of interest and 4 defined waypoints, along with target numbers and a small random encounter table. For a free system on the internet that’s easily portable into any number of other systems it’s surprisingly useful. While the book has no new material (on this system anyway. It has 250 pages of additional material on other things) the PDF is also pretty cheap and it’s on sale at the time I type this. Here are some additional thoughts I have on the system so far:

A day and four encounters per day isn’t quite right: The system assumes a certain size of territory. See the example territory given and the suggestion that a single 12 mile hex constitutes a territory. But consider that sometimes an area of a much different size warrants territory status and that while the system still works as described, it creates some interesting issues.

For a larger territory: (let’s say a few dozen hexes across) you run into the issue that you can conceivably accumulate discovery points and “discover” a point of interest much further away than you could have traveled to in the time it took to discover it. You COULD figure out a bunch of sub-rules for where the party is in the territory and thus what they can and cannot discover, BUT it’s far easier to just change the length of time it takes to make a check and the number of potential encounters that could happen during that time. Using the initial hex and day, a good rule of thumb is that the time it takes to make an exploration check for a territory is about the same amount of time it takes to travel across that territory. That assumes the characters are traveling the length and breadth of the land beating bushes and peeking into corners and ensures that no matter where they discover a point of interest it makes sense. While that also means that you should check for 28 encounters for a discovery check that takes a week, that seems excessive. Instead assume that the party has many encounters over a time of that duration and avoids or overcomes most of them and instead make the regular four checks, assume the party is fully rested between each and populate your table with a selection of “notable” encounters. i.e.: with powerful individual creatures or with multiple encounters with weaker creatures. So you might say: “You explore the area for a few weeks. During that time you have to fend off many goblin hunting parties but several days into your exploration, through either accident or because of the creature’s determination you are attacked several times in succession.” Then run a single encounter with several “waves” of goblins that are separated by minutes to hours of “real time”.

For a smaller territory: example: the PCs are searching the local rancher’s back 40 for clues to his disappearance, it makes more sense to make a check every few hours and roll for an encounter each check. That said, if they area gets too small it’s probably best to move to a traditional dungeon exploration system or series of checks.

Where’s the rest of the party?: The base system allows each character to make a separate survival check to gather discovery points. While that makes sense, it also assumes that you’ve split the party and that each character (or group of characters if some are using aid another actions) is by themselves exploring or back at camp doing other stuff. This introduces the issue that any number of characters might end up meeting an encounter. In this case I think it’s safe to assume that characters are relatively close to one another and have some way of signalling one another (from magic items to bird calls to outright yelling) so in the case of combat, you can probably assume that missing characters show up in a few additional rounds. If you go this route, make sure that players understand it might happen so they have the option of not letting the mage wander off by themselves.

Other uses: While this system is presented as a system for handling overland exploration with minimal (or no) reskinning it can also be used for:

dungeon exploration: think really big dungeons like megadungeons

investigation: where waypoints might be clues that point to other evidence and points of interest are evidence, and the checks made are investigation instead of survival

information gathering: where waypoints are hints as to who may know things and points of interest are pieces of information and checks are gather information or diplomacy etc

social networking: waypoints are people who aren’t interesting or useful except they grant access to those who are (think a bouncer or David Spade’s secretary character), points of interest are contacts etc

Nesting Nesting Nesting!: One of the coolest aspects of this system is that it can be nested. You can start with a large territory and one of your points of interest can then be another territory all it’s own, but on a smaller scale. Conceivably this could go through multiple layers. Imagine a reasonably sized territory the size of a hex or two and one of it’s points of interest is the ruins of a city which is much smaller than a hex (a few square miles) but which can be explored as it’s own territory with it’s points of interest being buildings of interest, treasure caches, five room dungeons and the like, one of which is the entrance to a large megadungeon, which is its OWN territory. Nesting would also work very well for sci-fi star exploration, first discovering systems, then planets, then points of interest on those planets.

Save some for later: when placing points of interest, remember that not all of them have to necessarily be level appropriate challenges for their territory. While it’s not necessarily fair or fun to have characters stumble onto some alpha beastie’s lair and immediately get TPK’d, putting said beastie on the random encounter list (and letting players know that there will occasionally be out of level challenges they need to be careful of) and giving them bonuses to avoid it once they know the location of its lair gives them a reason to come back later and remove the menace or capture a trophy. Similarly, putting in treasures hidden in vaults with DCs too high to crack at the time they are likely to be found, and sealed doors in point of interest dungeons give the players a reason to return.

Gazetteers are awesome: One of the fun parts of the system is the ability for characters with the right skills to make maps and gazetteers for territories. The rules in the system allow for creating these even when most of the points of interest in a territory are still undiscovered. More complete ones might be worth more, or less complete ones might be worth less (or worthless depending on how incomplete) BUT one of the really fun ways to expand this subsystem is the potential for different kinds of gazetteers. The base assumption is that a gazetteer is a written guidebook of the territory and they take the literacy skill to create. But there is lots of potential information that can go into a gazetteer and characters should be able to make more money, though not necessarily increase the bonus they get to survival checks by making a similar number of successes with secondary skill checks to add in additional useful information to their gazetteers. Two or more characters might even work on this simultaneously, one cataloging and recording additional information while the other makes the literacy checks to do the actual writing.

Knowledge: Nature checks will create a guidebook with detailed information and sketches of the local flora and fauna and their uses and properties

Profession: Miner will create a guidebook with information about local rock structures and composition

Diplomacy will create a guidebook with information about the cultures and practices of the local inhabitants

Craft: Painting creates a guidebook with multiple attractive pictures of local landmarks of interest

etc… The limit is really the imagination of your players.

West Marches: So if you have a massive crush on Ben Robbins’ West Marches campaign but don’t have the motivation to crank out insane vector maps like he did to prep for it, today is literally the day you get started. All of that gets wiped away and replaced with this simple system… except maybe not. Because there is one major difference between these rules as presented and the West Marches: Multiple groups. If you want to run a West Marches style for a single group, then go get started. I mean it. Go. But if you’re going the whole nine yards and running for multiple fluid groups with all the complexity, confusion and jealously guarded secrets that entails, you’re going to need a few more tweaks to the system. For this you will have to figure out how to handle points of interest that are only known about by some players, if a character who was in a group when a point of interest was discovered can get back without the rest of the group or a map, who “owns” and “carries” discovery points that a group gathers but has not yet spent and other concerns. My initial thoughts are:

The local lord or some other NPC organization wants the land explored and is paying for all the info they can get. They are the primary market, aside from other PCs, for maps and gazetteers of unexplored territory.

Existence and location of points of interest become common knowledge when a map that contains them is sold to an NPC (similar to the West Marches communal map). We can assume this represents the map eventually making its way to the aforementioned patron who then makes it readily available to aid exploration.

That no one can find a point of interest they have discovered without a map or re-paying a fraction of it’s initial cost, but that once points are common knowledge, maps are cheaply available (cribbed from the communal map probably)

Discovery points are held by those who created them with their survival check or by interpreting a waypoint. If large numbers of them are gathered in a single roll, some may be shared with a character who used the aid another action to help gather them.

Steal This System: Pathfinder’s Discovery Points published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[foursproutwealth-blog]

The creators of some of Nintendo’s best-loved classics just released this insanely ambitious pirate adventure for Xbox One (MSFT)

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/the-creators-of-some-of-nintendos-best-loved-classics-just-released-this-insanely-ambitious-pirate-adventure-for-xbox-one-msft/

The creators of some of Nintendo’s best-loved classics just released this insanely ambitious pirate adventure for Xbox One (MSFT)

When it comes to big games on the Xbox One — which is to say, games that aren’t available on the PlayStation 4 — the list is pretty short. 

This week’s launch of “Sea of Thieves” is an outsized addition to that list.

Over 20 years after Rare created classics like “Goldeneye 007” and “Perfect Dark” for Nintendo, the veteran game studio is back with something completely different: A massive, open-world pirate game that’s only on the Xbox One and PC.

And with “Sea of Thieves,” Microsoft has an amibitious new addition to its list of console exclusive games.

It’s an online-only game, meaning you can only play the game in an open world full of other pirates (actual human players). The game never holds your hand, instead depending on players to teach each other and themselves how to play. And there’s no one narrative — the story of the game is what happens while you take on and complete quests. 

In my brief few hours with it so far, I’ve found a lot of promise and charm in “Sea of Thieves.” Here’s why I think you should give it a shot.

“Sea of Thieves” nails the concept of emergent narrative storytelling — the “story” is the tale of how you completed your quest, not the quest itself.

This morning, I was sailing in a galleon — a large, three-sail wooden ship — with three other player-controlled pirates. We were headed toward a small tropical island that was said to contain a treasure chest. 

The mission was simple: Sail to the island, trek to the X on the map, and dig up the treasure chest.

When we got to the island, we grabbed the chest and started to head out. But what was that ship in the distance? Should we stop? Should we fight?

We headed in its direction, and it turned out that it was a much smaller ship (a “sloop,” to be technical).

Just as we were arriving, its sails dropped and its crew of no more than two hightailed it. But we were already within firing range, and I nailed the ship’s lower rear with a cannonball. As the ship filled with water, its small crew were forced to address the damages rather than even try to sail away from us. As our ship closed in, three of us manned cannons and turned its hull into Swiss cheese.

I could tell you the rest of that pirate tale, but we should probably move to a tiki bar. 

Stories like this are at the heart of “Sea of Thieves.” The game itself isn’t heavy on narrative, but its world is rich with narrative for the taking — if you’re up for adventure, that is.

“Sea of Thieves” goes all-in on the sailing thing.

Are you ready to handle some freakin’ ropes? How about playing sea shanties with your drunk friends? Maybe you’re more of a spyglass person? Oooh, or how about reading maps?

Get ready for all of that and more, as “Sea of Thieves” is, first and foremost, a game about navigating the sea in an old ship. I mean that in the nicest way possible, as it’s tremendously fun to play.

Remember that story I told about getting a treasure chest? Here’s how that went in terms of gameplay:

-First, we had to pull up the anchor. Even with all four of us working at it, it still took about 10 seconds.

-Next, we had to lower the sails and angle them. While my buddy took the helm, I ran from rigging to rigging, carefully lowering and angling the sails for as much wind as possible.

-Meanwhile, another player went below deck to our map table, where he compared his treasure map (which depicts the island’s shape) to the larger map in front of him. When he found the right island, he marked it on the map.

-Then, he explained to my buddy on the helm which direction to head. He also warned of potential obstacles in the way. 

That’s all before we start talking about the process of stopping the ship, repairing the ship, or fighting enemy ships.

None of this stuff is technically demanding — it all operates like normal video game stuff — but if you’re looking for a game that’s focused on shooting blunderbusses and cutting down foes, this ain’t it.

“Sea of Thieves” doesn’t hold your hand whatsoever, which is both great and not so great.

At first, “Sea of Thieves” was downright confusing. There’s no introduction whatsoever, no form of tutorial. You don’t even know which buttons are which if you don’t go looking in the settings menu. 

As I soon realized, the game is mostly intuitive. Of course you have to lower the sails before the ship will move! And the controls are mostly standard video game controls for a first-person game — A to jump, X to interact, and what have you.

In this way, “Sea of Thieves” seemingly trusts players to figure it out by themselves. Better yet, it asks players to help each other. Unless you’re piloting a small ship by yourself (which is dangerous), “Sea of Thieves” requires multiplayer cooperation. There’s simply no way to manage steering a massive galleon by yourself without getting overwhelmed.

In the vast majority of my time with “Sea of Thieves” thus far, this forced cooperation has been very positive. Strangers help me, I help them, and everyone wins. 

Unfortunately, in the very first group I joined, I was immediately voted into the ship’s brig, for no readily apparent reason other than to be cruel. There is no way out other than quitting the game — or if the very people who locked you in vote to let you out. I didn’t wait to find out.

It was a great reminder that multiplayer games are best played with friends instead of strangers.

See the rest of the story at Business Insider

[theauthorfiles-blog]

Getting to Know Brandon Phillips from Choices by Sheila Bliss

I’m waiting at the coffee shop in Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. I’m super nervous. Laurel warned me he’d be intense and his face might make my insides spontaneously combust. She suggested we meet for our interview here at this particular coffee shop because well it holds special memories of a fierce collision her and Brandon shared right here at the back of the store to be precise. In the men’s room to be even more accurate. But I’m not asking him about that. She thought the location might soften him up, make him more malleable to the experience of sharing details about himself. Brandon’s quite tight-lipped unless it’s about his Reds, then you can’t shut him up. 

The bell rings above his dark brown waves, and all eyes flip to his. Laurel wasn’t kidding when she said he’d be intense. Everything about him is dark and mysterious even though he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt and torn jeans. And those pale-blue eyes? They ice you out and pull you in at the same time. My mouth is dry, and I almost forget why I’m here. I only want to stare and stare and…

Brandon: “Hey, you must be from The Author Files.” 

I know he’s said something because those gorgeous perfectly sculpted lips moved. I just can’t remember what he said.

Brandon: “I’m going to sit here.”

Again, I only stare like a moron. He raises a finger for the waitress to come over. She does, and it seems he has the same effect on her. She can only stare too.

Brandon: “I’ll have iced tea. I don’t like coffee. Unsweetened. Please.” He looks at me. Immediately, everything goes numb. “Would you like something?”

TAF: “Uh…” Finally, synapses in my brain re-fire and I am confident I can formulate sentences again, but I’m not sure for how long so I better act fast. “No, thank you. I’ll stick to water.” The less caffeine, the better, I think. Time to get to work. People want to know everything they can about Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome sitting across from me. “Tell me about your childhood,  Brandon.”

Brandon: His face tightens. “I figured Reds told you everything you needed to know.”

TAF: “She did. I thought you could offer some more detail. What was it like to live with what you have?”

Brandon: “It was hard. Enough said.”

TAF: “Okay.” He shut that down pretty quick. “I understand you recently learned something tragic about your parents. Want to share your story?”

Brandon: “You wanna tell me something tragic about your parents?”

Laurel wasn’t kidding when she said he was tight-lipped so maybe I should talk about her. “Where did the nickname Reds come from?”

Brandon: “Have you seen the color of her hair?”

Good point. This interview isn’t going well. “I have, but why give Laurel a nickname at all? Seems childish.”

Brandon: “Are you calling me a boy?” He leans forward giving me a more unobstructed view of those blue eyes; blue eyes now laser focused and hot. “I know how old I am. Laurel had a problem with that too in the beginning. And I will tell you what I told her. There are three things you need to know about me. One—don’t tell me what to think. Two—don’t tell me how I should feel. And three—don’t ever call me a boy. I had to set Reds straight on all that too.” He softens and settles back. Must be my trembling lip. “She has crazy sexy hair. It drives me wild. And I wanted a name for her that belonged to only me.”

TAF: “Why?”

Brandon: “Because I am the only man in her life that matters—that genuinely loves her. A woman like her should be treasured. Not neglected.”

TAF: “Ah, Paul, right?”

He nods.

TAF: “Where is he now?”

He takes a sip of his iced tea and eyes me over the rim of his glass. “Next question.”

I gulp and switch gears. “How’s the farmhouse? You know, after everything that happened there…”

Brandon: “I know.” He stiffens. “It’s beautiful and turned out even more amazing than I ever imagined it could be. But that’s because of Reds.”

TAF: “You truly love her, don’t you?”

His eyes drift to the back of the coffeehouse. “What I feel for Reds is fathomless.” He refocuses on me. “She brought me back to life then she nearly killed me with her lies.”

TAF: “That doesn’t sound good.”

Taking another sip, he winces. I don’t know if it’s because the ice cubes hit a nerve or he remembers something. “It wasn’t. It hurt like hell, but I understood why Reds did what she did. It only made me love her harder.”

TAF: Whew, he is intense, and I need some air. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, Brandon. Thanks for talking with  me.”

He stands, my eyes following every long, lean inch of him. I fight the urge to beg him to stay. He fishes out a few bills and tosses them on the table. “Always happy to talk about my girl.” A sly, wolfish grin spreads his lips up. “Just don’t tell her I said that she’d put my ass in a sling.”

He winks and walks away, and I still can’t stop staring.

Be sure to read more about Brandon and Reds' love affair in Choices.

Excerpt

 Preface

The angsty tone of my youngest’s voice reverberates through my body, summoning my inner momma bear. He’s whining about the difficulty of making a choice. He doesn’t want to do it. Most people don’t.

At his age, the hard choices involve ice cream. But for grown-ups, it’s a little more involved than picking ice cream flavors. Adult choices involve the ones capable of shredding your heart, ripping your soul open ─ even if those choices protect a serendipitous love. What child understands the concept of making that type of choice? Can an adult? 

Ignorance is bliss.  

In reality, people slather on avoidance and denial like sunscreen, deflecting the truth so it isn’t absorbed into their pores. If it isn’t a part of them then they’re off the hook. 

My sweet, little boy can’t understand why he can’t have all the flavors of ice cream listed. He wants to know why he has to choose just one. 

Why, indeed.

I explain to him the importance of picking the one he just can’t live without, the one flavor he dreams of constantly, the one capable of changing his entire day for the better. Watching his eyes relax in peace and understanding I know his choice is made. I only wish mine came as peacefully.

                                                                 Chapter One

There are things I know about myself. I’m careful, not impulsive and I have a giving heart. I sigh inwardly as I think of these attributes while Kristy prattles on at the party. It’s a heart I don’t save for myself. It’s one I give away too freely, too readily because I want to love so badly and in equal measure, to be loved back just as fiercely. 

I scan the expanse, the perfectly-clipped yard in southeastern Pennsylvania highlighted by a glorious late afternoon summer sun looking for him. The boy—I shake my head slightly—the man, the honoree of the party I’m attending, is searching for me too. I know this because his traveling gaze stops and locks with mine. He raises his thick tumbler. Heat seeps into my cheeks and I know I’m blushing. I glance into my glass of Chardonnay.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen that particular look in a while. Wait. I take that back—more than a while,” Kristy says, her eyes penetrating the top thin layer of the skin of my face.

“Shut up. Drink your wine before I dump it over your head,” I warn her.

She giggles and drowns further comments into her glass. 

But, I know what’s coming next. Laurel, it’s time. It’s not like you haven’t tried…

“Laurel,” she starts, “it’s been six months.”

Sure enough, the words come fast and a bit harsh. I know my best friend Kristy superbly well as I sigh out loud this time. “Again?”  But I find myself nodding my agreement. “I know.”

“You sure about that?” Kristy’s tall, so she ducks to reach my eye level. She drops her glass to her waist and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Look at me.”

I cringe and crinkle my nose but do what she says.

“He’s not going to change. Not unless he wants to. Not unless it’s his decision. You’ve kicked him out and he still hasn’t changed. And we are old enough to know no matter how hard we love, we can’t change someone unless they choose to.” 

I rub the arm holding my glass, knowing she’s right. It still sucks to hear it. 

“It does feel good again to have a glass of wine without fear of setting him off,” I explain. 

The background noise of the party doesn’t seem to penetrate our discussion. It’s always been this way with Kristy, my first true love. And I mean that without any sexual connotations. I love her. We have been through everything together. Come to think of it, I probably should have married her instead of Paul. No doubt, I’d have been happier except there’s something about a six-foot-three broad shouldered, smartly dressed man that curls my toes. Silently cursing myself as my gaze roams the softly lit back yard looking for him, yet again, I chuckle. 

“And that’s funny how?”  she asks. 

I look at her confused, instantly forgetting what she said and more interested in chasing what I’m feeling. “What?” 

Snapping her fingers in my line of vision, she orders, “Stay with me.” Kristy takes my glass. “I know how you get when you’re in the sun drinking.”

I lift my eyes to the sky. “No need to worry. It’s dusk,” I say, snatching back my glass and taking a long swallow. The crisp apple and smooth butter taste luxuriates along my tongue, and I can’t help searching for the guest of honor—again—as those simple tastes linger in my mouth. I roll my eyes in disgust. I should be ashamed of myself. He’s years younger than me. Years. The arrogance of my thoughts and desires blooms a deeper burning heat spreading across my cheeks, my neck, and my rapidly growing sensitive breasts. I press my cool glass against the throbbing pulse on the side of my neck. 

“Not half as funny watching you struggle with all those self-doubts stampeding through your head,” Kristy points out matter-of-factly. 

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

“What are friends for if not to point out the finer things said friend hates about herself and tell her she’s being ridiculous?” 

I let the sentiment hang in the air between us taking up space like another guest in our little bubble. And I know she understands the look in my eyes as evident in the strength of her grip on my forearm. “I love you, too, Laurel.” Her head shoots up, and I startle. Kristy’s chocolate browns anchor above and over my shoulder. “But not as much as I’m going to love watching this.” She lifts her glass and tilts her chin. “Brandon, hello.” 

“Hello.” Warm and rich, the tenor of his voice washes over me. 

I freeze taking stock of the blush simmering deep and turning into a fire, giving a new meaning to the biblical burning bush.  

 “Well—” she starts, and I am preparing myself to strike out and smack the smirk off her face. She’s going to ditch me. “I’m going to find my Mitch.” She lifts an eyebrow. “Laurel, come find me when you’re ready to go home. Or if you need to tell me you’re not coming home. Either way is fine.”  She smiles a knowing smile at Brandon then spins on her heels in a flurry of gray chiffon waves. 

Wait. Kristy, I can’t do this. I’m not ready. Sure the skin on my face and chest will spontaneously combust, I lift my glass to my lips and gulp down a large swallow of wine. 

“I promise I won’t bite.” He lifts his glass to his thick smooth lips. My gaze travels up to a pair of pale blue eyes reminding me of the first streaks of blue across a morning sky. So pale, so blue they don’t seem real. As if my eyes have a mind of their own, they travel further to investigate the thick mass of messy dark coffee colored waves atop his head. 

My fingers twitch, fighting the urge to reach out and run them through the thick locks. Stop that! “That would be embarrassing if you did that here anyway.” Oh good Lord. Please don’t even try to flirt. I never did it well even on a good day in my twenties. 

“Here? Maybe. Somewhere private though? I don’t know if I could keep that promise,” he offers with a smirk and a twinkle highlighted by the paleness of his irises. 

Shit. No, don’t say it. “It’s beautiful this evening. Lovely party.” Lame. Lame. Lame. But at least my heart stops trying to break my ribcage, and I am able to redirect his attention. 

“Only made lovelier by that hair and pale skin.” Maybe not. His body shifts a touch closer, and his laser focus drops on my face, drinking it in. The sincerity laced in the tone of his voice calms my frazzled thoughts and slowly fraying nerves. 

I’m not going to lie. I like the attention. I miss it. It flips my stomach inside out. It also makes me want to run into the car and lock all the damn doors where I can hide—protected—as I watch him from the safety of the locked car. 

Awkward silence squeezes my gut and pushes small amounts of burning acid up my throat. Yet, he isn’t even mildly affected. Cool. Calm. Collected. Not a bead of sweat on that manly brow. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he demands. And now that I’m paying more attention, as I imagine myself sitting in my safe, locked car, I notice everything about him demands attention: his wide stance, straight confident posture and those heat seeking missile-like eyes. I stifle a groan. For every drop of coolness he exudes equals every drop of sweat coursing down my emerald green silk halter top. 

“There was a question,” I gasp, wanting to kick myself for being such a nerd and gasping in the first place. I stroke my throat, soothing the panic rising in it.

“Nervous habit?” Cool fingers reach out and stroke the path my warm sticky fingers did as he adjusts the misbehaving snap of my halter top resting in between my breasts. 

“Um…” My murmur stumbles out brusquely, and I can’t stop looking at those eyes, those thick lips. I marvel at how his cool touch makes me shiver but only intensifies the burning bush. 

He withdraws his fingers, raises his whiskey glass again, and I allow my gaze to linger on his sinewy strong hand. The bulging, blue veins contrast spectacularly against his tan skin. Taking a small swallow, I watch the liquid work its way down his throat, and I hate what it does to my insides. I have no business thinking about my insides affected by him. When he lowers his hand, his lips are wet, glossy, and I can’t help thinking…

“I wanted to know if biting you here…” He points to the sharply cut grass. “…would actually be appropriate. I think yes. It is my party, after all.” He smiles, revealing perfectly lined white teeth and my skin flushes faster, hotter, deeper. “Because it would really work for me…” A finger reaches out and strokes my pounding heartbeat in my neck. “…to bite you right here where your blood races, but I’m sensing a mixed hesitation on your part.” 

The guest of honor lifts his brow and works a killer, arrogant smile as he raises his glass to his lips making me ache in my lower belly while his gaze, his touch, scares the ever living shit out of me. This level of flirting hurts. I’m way out of my league here. Frankly, my name and a league don’t even belong in the same sentence. Technically, I’m still married according to paper and the law, but in the dark of night, when that little voice echoes through me, shines light into the empty black spaces of my heart, I realize I haven’t been married for a very long time. I can only admit that in the dark though. Six months separated does not give me license to flirt, even if I did it badly. 

“I have to go,” I blurt. Trying to be graceful as I turn, my heel from the sandals Kristy insisted I wear catches in the hem of my long, white wrap-around maxi skirt. 

Strong hands grip my elbows. The contact is soothing, electrifying, and frightening. I can’t breathe. I want to cry I’m so uncomfortable. 

“Whoa. Hold on. Not so fast. Don’t run from me yet.” He turns me around and steadies me on my feet, then drops his hands. The absence of his strength strangely disappoints, and I don’t want to examine why. 

“Brandon, I─” I begin. 

“My fault. I made you uncomfortable,” he interrupts and touches his glass to his chest, and I’m treated to the sight of those strong hands and even stronger fingers. “You never know what’s going to work for a woman.” He smiles broadly. “And I like to go after what I want even more so with women who don’t seem to know the value of their worth. Well, one in particular.” 

Wide and open with nothing to hide, his charm, albeit arrogant, rushes a feverish need to uncover what’s constricting my heart and making my blood pound through my veins. “But I should have trusted my gut.” He takes another sip. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Inhaling a much needed breath still didn’t stop the words from pouring out, “What did your gut tell you to do?”

“I think I’m a little impatient with you.” His eyes flare, his face grows serious, and the bottom of my stomach drops into my sandals. “But to answer your question, I told myself she doesn’t know how beautiful she is. Go slowly.” Brandon shifts closer to me and looks down into my glass. “Interested in a little more liquid courage? You look like you could use some right about now.” Smirking, he takes my glass. “Don’t go anywhere.” Leaning in, he whispers in my ear, “I’m only going to bite if you say yes. You’re the one in control.” He pulls back, his gaze roaming my face. “I just thought you needed to know that.” Clasping my hand, he raises it, placing a feather light kiss to my knuckles. “You look a little hot, Reds. Maybe you should get out of the sun?”

Watching him make his way to the bar, I rub my ear. Now warm and slightly moist, I realize how much I hate the word slow. The sun? Bastard.

[terrordave1]

Would you believe something as simple as a friend’s Christmas list could help sweep away the holiday blues? It did for me, though not in a syrupy Hallmark Channel sort of way, but rather with a nostalgic boost of horror that was like reconnecting with an old pal; one you never should have lost touch with in the first place. It all started a few weeks back while doing some online shopping. I was looking over the other Terror Dave’s Amazon “Wish list” hoping to fill in a few gaps when one of his requests seized my attention. It was a new book (written about older ones) titled “Paperbacks from Hell” and written by Grady Hendrix. The adventure that followed would not only melt this Winter Warlock’s heart but likely impact his coming year as well. Before I explain, I’d like to clarify this is NOT a book review. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a phenomenal book; loaded with enough illustrations to merit your coffee table and absolutely worth buying. However, in keeping with the spirit of season, I’d rather spotlight its Sin-spirational subject matter instead.

Whether onscreen or in written form, I couldn’t get enough horror back in the mid/late ‘80s when I was in high school. This inspired constant trips to the local Homewood Video while frequenting our now extinct Crown Book Store in search of paperbacks. I remember bypassing all the best-selling hardcovers displayed in the center aisle and making a sharp left to the appropriate section marked “Horror.” There, I’d plant myself for the better part of an hour rifling through titles while deciding which ones to take home. Considering the abundant selection, this was no easy feat and often required breaking the universal rule of not judging books by their covers. And talk about eye candy! The art featured on these books were usually gruesome, unintentionally hilarious, and often successful in their goal of inspiring a purchase.

“Nightscape” Stephen R. George (1992)

“Evil Eye” Ehren M. Ehly (1989)

“Spawn” Shaun Hutson (1983)

“Toy Cemetery” William W. Johnstone (1987)

“Evilway” Ryan O. Moses (1990)

“Deadly Nature” V.M. Thompson (1988)

“Goblins” Vincent Courtney (1994)

Despite routinely passing its old location, I’d forgotten all about the store and its grisly offerings. Just one glance at “Paperbacks from Hell” brought it all back to me; wiping away my doldrums like a pulpy hit of Prozac. I quickly ordered TWO copies, one for David and one for myself, while contemplating a fun way to gift it. Then it hit me; why not embellish this book with a few of those old ones? Naturally, the first step was searching the Internet but this quickly evolved into visiting used book stores on foot. As a lifelong collector of everything from comic books to dinosaur models, I know full well that despite the ease of online shopping there’s still something to be said for the good, old-fashioned thrill of the hunt! Not to mention there were so many offerings during their golden age (early ‘70s through early ‘90s), I’d stand a much better chance of spotting something obscure on a store shelf anyway. The trick was finding the right shelf.

Pilson Community Books Chicago

My first stop was in Schererville, Indiana at a place called “The Cat’s Tale.” Figuring I couldn’t go wrong with a cozy little moniker like that, I walked inside full of anticipation. It looked so quaint from the outside I had visions of seeing a stone fireplace behind a wise, old sage blowing the dust off an ancient classic before guiding me to the treasures I sought . This fantasy quickly dissolved after walking inside and witnessing what can only be described as a tornado hitting a library. Books were strewn about pell-mell with many covering the floor and blocking the aisles. As for my “wise old sage,” she was in her mid-thirties and so focused on her laptop, she barely glanced when I triggered the welcome chimes. After an hour of tripping over books I was disappointed to discover there wasn’t much in the way of horror. I was about to leave when I spotted the familiar Zebra Books logo. In terms of ‘80s trash novels, Zebra and Leisure Books were pretty much at the top of the heap! Best of all, it was written by one of my favorite, forgotten authors.

“The Uninvited” William W. Johnstone (1988)

At an age when everyone was talking about King and Koontz, the far more ambiguous William W. Johnstone was no less active. He’d pen over two-hundred books, mostly westerns, along with twenty-five horror titles including this one, “The Uninvited” (1988). It’s about an army of mutant cockroaches terrorizing a small Louisiana town and I remember thinking at the time, “David, ole ‘bug guy,’ ole buddy, ole pal…I’m sorry but this one stays with me!” And in the blink of an eye, my new horror paperback collection was born.

As soon as I got home I opened the cover and was inundated by that glorious “old book” smell. I do love those musty fumes despite their denoting chemical breakdown and the novel’s decay. Regardless of its fragility, this one was in fairly good shape with relatively few creases. I’ve always been gentle with my paperbacks and never understood folks opening theirs so widely they crack the hell out of the spines. Unfortunately, this would prove more the rule than the exception.

My next purchase was via eBay and featured another popular Zebra Book author, Ruby Jean Jensen. I haven’t read this one yet, but what made the transaction so memorable was its seller.

“Jump Rope” Ruby Jean Jensen (1988)

She sent me a message thanking me for my purchase along with a Wiccan blessing. I told her I appreciated it, as I could use all the White Magic I could get these days. Later, after the book arrived, I discovered she’d added a small bag of charms, a personal prayer, and medallion featuring a figure eight (symbol for overcoming obstacles). Once again, those old paperbacks inadvertently brought joy.

I finished reading “The Uninvited” in less than 24 hours and decided my next one would be “Incubus” by Ray Russell. This was another online purchase and caught my attention due to my familiarity with the 1982 film. Though the movie is pretty dull, the same can’t be said for it’s source. “Incubus” would be the second novel I’d finish inside a day, and to think I’d been having trouble finishing books this past year on account of getting too sleepy. Who knew the answer to my short attention span was simply finding material with a lot more sex and violence? And this tale, featuring a medieval demon murdering women with his enormous penis while leaving gallons of semen in his wake, had plenty of both! (Hey, I warned you this wasn’t gonna be like the Hallmark Channel)

“Incubus” Ray Russell (1976)

Now that my new horror paperback collection was underway, I needed to get back to my original mission of David’s gift. Unfortunately, after visiting several bookstores and thrift shops, I’d consistently come up empty. This would all change with the discovery of “Bucket O’ Blood Books and Records” which would not only be a random find (and with Christmas just over a week away), but prove a one-stop-shop! This Chicago store specifically caters to horror and sci-fi and had a large large selection of used books! Talk about a holiday miracle!

Thankfully, they were affordable enough for me to send multiples with David’s gifts as planned. I may not have been able to bring him with me on this adventure, but was determined to send him a bit of my own Used Bookstore instead.

For around $50 I got a large brown bag full; plenty for both of us Daves. Most weren’t in collectible condition but fine for reading purposes. When I’m done, I figure I can always go back and trade them in for more!

I asked the owner how often they replenish their stock and he suggested I visit every couple months or so. He also admitted it’s been a challenge keeping used horror books on the shelves these days .

“Why is that?” I asked.

The man rolled his eyes. “There’s this book that came out called ‘Paperbacks from Hell,” he said. “Now everyone’s out looking for these damn things. Drives me crazy how impressionable people are.”

“Really?” I said blankly. “Never heard of it.”

Dave Fuentes~

“Paperbacks from Hell” Conjures Pulpy Pleasure! Would you believe something as simple as a friend's Christmas list could help sweep away the holiday blues?