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harrypotter-imaginess · 4 years ago

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Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! <This is Part 5!>

A/N: As said, I switched to a headcanon list because we have 7 books to get through, and it will take years if I only do the blurbs. Oh, and if you are in the market for some cute pro-Weasley shirts, check out my 'Weasley Suprmeacy' shirt here!

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

* It’s your third year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter’s second, and you’re having a pretty good year so far

* You’ve made your house team, and you’re doing pretty good in school, in fact, you’ve got a knack for potions and herbology

* “Good thing too or we’d be stuck up a creek without ya” Fred says grinning as he watches you show him how to make the simple “cure for boils” potion

* “And not sooner either, these things hurt more than you think” George complains, wincing every time he touches one

* “Well what did you think was going to happen when you tried to go into the girl’s changing room?” You ask with a sigh

* “In our defense we didn’t know it was the girls changing room, we just wanted a shortcut to the pitch”

* You hide a smile, that sounds about right

* Life is pretty good

* Until it isn’t

* “Enemy’s of the heir beware” the words leave your mouth in a murmur

* Your eyes trained on the blood-coated words on the wall

* You think you're going to be sick

* “That’s right you’ll be next mudbloods!” Draco shouts and immediately you feel two hands clasp both of your shoulders

* One is Fred’s and the other is George’s

* They insist on walking you back to your dorm

* “Really I’ll be fine, you should go check on your brother, Ginny was looking a little pale too” you insist but they keep pushing you forward

* “We can do that after you get back to your common room safely”

* If you’re Muggle-born they’re really protective of you over the next few months

* You’ve woken up to taping on your window more than once, yawning as you walk over to see who it is

* Only to see your favorite red-headed pair of doppelgängers

* “Couldn’t sleep” Fred says with a yawn

* “We were too afraid the heir of Slytherin would kill us in our sleep” George adds

* “Best we sleep here, so you can protect us and keep us safe” they finish in unison

* The next morning your dorm mates wake up to see them sleeping on the floor at the foot of your bed, drooling all over each other, wands clasped in their hands

* They absolutely refuse to let you stay in the castle for Christmas

* “Nope, no, no way in bloody hell,” George says defiantly

* “But I want-“

* “If you’ve got a death wish, you can just come home with us and eat mum’s cooking-”

* “So good you’ll go to heaven”

* They’re tugging you to the station before you can even protest

* “What about Ron?” You ask

* “What about Ron? He’s a big boy, besides it looks like those three are scheming-“ George starts

* “Schemings best left to the young ones, us old-timers have no place in it, best for us to go home and have some Christmas pudding, isn’t that right Percy?”

* Percy, who was only passing by gives you three a quizzical look before turning away with a shake of his head

* “Whatever nonsense you’re up to, leave me out of it”

* Fred turns to you with a grin

* “See even Percy agrees, leave the nonsense to the youngins’”

* Percy just keeps shaking his head

* “Come, Ginny, let’s sit somewhere away from them- don’t want you to be around bad influences”

* Their parents are thrilled to meet you

* “So you’re (Y/N)! We’ve heard so much about you-“

* So the twins talk about you at home huh?

* “- from Percy, he says your next in line to make prefect in your house,” she says patting you affectionately on the shoulder

* Percy nods from behind her

* “Cedric’s been recommending you to Sprout” He adds

* Your face burns and the twins grin behind you

* “Prefect (Y/N) I like the sound of that” George says with a mischievous grin

* “Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous, soaking in the prefect bathroom like a big shot”

* You roll your eyes

* “Well since I’m such a big shot I guess I can overlook when you explode a toilet or two”

* The Weasley’s stay up until well past midnight for Christmas

* Molly knits you a matching scarf for the sweater she gave you last year

* “Well doesn’t it look dashing on you!” She says with a smile and she wraps it around your neck

* George and Fred are nervous you might not like it but you grin

* “I love it”

* George scrambles over

* “You want my scarf too?” He says already unwrapping his from around his neck

* “Take mine too, you look awfully cold,” Fred says

* There’s a Polaroid somewhere of you swaddled in five scarfs while Ginny and the twins laugh

* Percy is in the background looking disappointed- but one of those scarves is how

* At night, when the sleeping arrangements are all drawn up you’re with Ginny

* You lie side by side in her bed, you’re half asleep

* “Can I talk to you about something”

* You yawn and nod, not moving

* And then when she doesn’t say anything you say-

* “About Harry?”

* There’s another silence, but this one feels heavier somehow, and it wakes you up a bit

* “Just send him some chocolates for Valentine’s Day” you yawn patting her shoulder

* “Sign it with ‘your secret admirer’ if it makes you too nervous” you yawn again, feeling your eyes droop

* Is that why she’s been looking so sick lately? Too many nights lying awake at night thinking about a boy who doesn’t share her feelings

* “You know Ginny if something does nothing but cause you pain, and I know it’s not very Gryffindor-like, but you can just walk away from it yknow” you’re slurring, barely awake.

* “I can’t just walk away?” She asks and you nod

* “Of course you can”

* And then you fall asleep

* Completely forgetting about the conversation until it’s Valentine’s Day and you see Harry followed around by a singing valentine

* “So this is the fantastic advice you gave Ginny?” George asks, a teasing smile lifting onto his face

* “I told her to give chocolates! I don’t know a boy alive who doesn’t like sweets”

* “Well where’s our chocolate then?” Fred asks expectantly

* You look to George for some support, but he’s looking at you expectantly too

* “Oh I get it, all your chocolates are saved for pretty boy Diggory”

* You roll your eyes and shake your head while walking away

* What’s up with them and thinking that you have a crush on Cedric

* They do come back to their dorms with small bags of chocolate on their beds, just two pieces each

* But they smile like you gave them a lump of gold

* “Did you make them by hand?” One teases

* “Tasted like they were made with love, and all those warm fuzzy feelings” the other finishes

* You roll your eyes

* “You should just be glad the house-elf I found didn’t mind me taking a bit of chocolate”

* It surprises both of them that you actually did make them by hand

* They were really just teasing

* George is the one to make the first move

* “Well next time you go invite us too, I think it would be fun to learn how to make chocolates”

* George wraps an arm around your shoulders

* “We could give them to Snape and make him think he has a secret admirer,” Fred says with a grin, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders as well

* “Send him a singing Telegraph and everything” George grins

* You shake your head and laugh, what a couple of bozos

* It is pretty funny to see Snape get all flustered though

* They get even more protective when Muggle-born students start getting petrified

* You’re never without one, or both of them

* “Looks like your bodyguard is here,” Cedric says with a teasing smile when he sees George waiting in the corridor outside your class for you

* You nod, moving to go meet him when you feel a gentle touch on your arm

* “Let him know that if he’s ever looking for a career change, I’ll gladly fill the spot” he ruffles your hair before you leave and you can see the teasing coming from a mile away

* But George doesn’t say anything when you walk over to him, walking together to transfigurations in moderate silence

* “So you and Diggory are pretty close” he finally says, breaking the silence

* You look up at him, his eyebrows are threaded together and his mouth is pinched into a frown

* It makes you think about the time you thought that maybe they wouldn’t spend as much time with you anymore when you were brewing the amortentia potion

* “Yeah but we’re closer,” you say bumping your shoulder against his arm, he laughs

* “That’s true”

* The mischievous glint in his eyes returns

* “I doubt he’ll feel the same once he finds out you drool in your sleep”

* You roll your eyes shoving him lightly which earns a laugh

* “I mean really (Y/N), it’s just a bit excessive innit? Most mornings your pillow is more drool than Cotten at this point, you should really get it checked-“

* You shove him harder laughing when he starts laughing

* “Big words from the boy who snores so loud his dorm mates left him floating on the lake”

* “It wasn’t my dorm mates, it was Fred and he did it to because I pretended I was him when I said something that upset Oliver Wood”

* Your eyebrows thread together

* Haven’t seen much of Oliver around now that quidditch has been canceled

* “What did you say?”

* George turns bright red and turns away

* “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time around that keeper for Hufflepuff lately” Wood was especially cranky as of late now that quidditch was canceled for the rest of the year

* And George doesn’t know why, but he gets so irked by it

* What does Wood care who he spends time with off the pitch? It’s not like he’s been taking it easy on you during matches or anything

* “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to talk to someone you’re attracted to”

* And then realizing how it sounded, and flushing red George claimed he was Fred

* He sounded like he was a jealous boyfriend or something

* It’s almost mortifying

* Almost

* “Nothing, don’t worry about it”

* And it’s the first sign for George that someone might have seen something in him that he hasn’t noticed

* But for now that doesn’t matter

* Because you’re here telling jokes like nothing’s changed

* When Ginny gets taken to the chamber you’re sitting with George and Fred in their dorm hugging them close

* You showed up outside their window on your broom, tapping on the glass until they opened it and enveloped you in a hug

* “Maybe it’s just one big mistake, and she’ll pop out any second saying she got lost on her way to the loo”

* “Maybe,” Fred says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it

* “Everything’s going to be fine,” George says

* And you nod, because you really hope it does

* And by morning Ron and Harry show up covered in dirt with Ginny behind them who looks like she did at first

* With color on her face and vibrancy you haven’t seen on her all year

* “So good old Gildy was a fraud all along huh?”

* “Coulda fooled me”

* And then just like that you’re on the train home

* Joking with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George about Percy’s secret girlfriend

* “It feels like it was just yesterday we were getting off the train and starting the year,” you say slightly wistful

* “Speak for yourself, Oliver Wood nearly killed me at practice with punishment drills for something I said apparently” Fred groans

* “Best to leave the adventuring to the young ones” George grins teasing you as you step onto the platform

* And just like that, it’s over

* And just like that it’ll be a new school year

* And the beginning of a new adventure

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #george wealsey x reader #fred and george weasley imagine #george Weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #Fred Weasley imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter x reader

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cherrydreamer · 3 years ago

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(half inspired by a dark horse!Claudia headcanon that Ihni made me think of once and I have never ever been able to drop because damn I love inventing wonderful backstories/hobbies/side quests for Claudia!)

Ok so…Lil headcanon of Dustin stumbling onto his Mom's stash of Kirk/Spock fanzines. And he doesn't quite know what he's found, nor does he spot ‘C.Henderson’ amongst the list of contributors, but he's already intrigued by the first hand drawn cover of a bruised Kirk in a very tattered uniform, so he figures they all must be some cool action based comics and his curiosity, as always, gets the better of him and Dustin stashes a few of them in his backpack for later without even looking at the rest of the pages. But he’s also eagerly distracted, especially when Steve has a pile of brand new horror releases from Family Video, and the zines end up getting left unread, at Steve's house. And Steve finds them. And he's pretty damn curious too, so he starts flicking through. And the more he reads, the more curious he gets. It's like a whole new world opening up for him. And maybe he was never really the biggest Star Trek fan, but he is hooked. Utterly gripped. And he can't tear his eyes away from some of the art. Especially some of the art. And while he might not be the most eager reader in the world, Steve powers through every single one of those stories without coming up for air. Until it’s three in the morning and he’s finished them. All of them. Every single word of every single zine is burned into his brain, whirling round and round and he needs more, more, more. Because maybe it’s made Steve think about something. About himself. And he’s not ready to stop thinking about that, not quite yet. Luckily, Steve’s a little more observant than Dustin.He definitely noticed a certain, familiar name (especially because it was the one written underneath the pieces that really captured his attention the most) which is why he’s back at the Henderson place at 7am, stack of zines in hand, fully aware that there’s no way Dustin’s going to be awake before 8. Because, for once, it’s not Dustin he’s here to see. (And cause I obviously wanna make it at least a little Harringrove then let’s have Billy finding one of the zines in Steve’s house, maybe one day when he’s there to pick up Max. And he gets such a weird look on his face the moment he sees it, part shock and part panic and absolutely drained of all colour, his eyes wide as he hisses, “Why the hell do you have this? Where the fuck did you find it?” And Steve can’t deal with him being disgusted or whatever, he just does not have time for it, so he stands there, hands on his hips and challenges Billy with, “It’s mine, what of it?” And Billy relaxes, Steve can see it happen almost instantly, the absolute relief crossing Billy’s face as he looks back down at the zine and flicks through the pages almost lovingly and smiles, “Nah, nothing. it’s a good choice, Harrington, got one of my best stories in this one.” And Steve’s mind is completely and utterly BLOWN and he eventually gets Billy to tell him which story he wrote and it turns out to be beautiful and romantic and full of longing and pining and Steve is so utterly, totally smitten by the end of it that he’s gazing at Billy with pure heart eyes.)

#harringrove #eventually #and yes ok maybe I'm kinda shoe horning it in there but I don't care #becuase I HAD to #but mostly it's claudia henderson being in fandom #and steve having his gay awakening from her fics #let billy be a shipper too #so he and claudia can meet up and chat about their fics over brownies and hot chocolate #they can have that 'omg YOU?!' moment where they squee over each others work #ok this is becoming kinda silly now #i should stop #but i am having the week from hell and it's only monday so i am INDULGING myself here

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justfrozenthings · 3 years ago

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A Summer to Remember

Paring: Anna/Kristoff

Rating: T

Word: 5,335

Notes: My piece for the Volume 5 Summer Lovin’ Frozine. To find the complete zine visit the @frozines blog. Huge thank you to @punkpoemprose for putting together another wonderful zine!

Summary: Kristoff and Anna are ready to go on their annual summer vacation to the beach at Ahtohallan. Little does Anna know, Kristoff has a big surprise for her, well...more of a big question really.

Ao3

“Kris!” Anna Arendelle was currently packing for her and her boyfriend’s annual summer vacation to Ahtohallan. It had become an annual thing they have been doing for the past five years since they started dating. It was the first place they went on vacation as a couple and they had fallen so in love with the charming little town that they had decided to visit every year. And while each trip was a little different, it consisted of at least three things that had remained the same: spending as much time as possible at the beach, going to their favorite diner Reindeer Circle as their special dinner, and staying at the charming The Crocus beachside hotel. Little did Anna know, however, that Kristoff had a surprise that would make this trip more than a little bit different.

“Which dress do you think I should wear to the diner?” Anna hollered from their bedroom.

Kristoff stopped what he was doing and sauntered over to their bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he admired his girlfriend examining herself in the Rococo style mirror with the two dresses. One was the white sunflower shirtdress that he had gotten her for her twenty-third birthday, because at the time she had an obsession with the 50’s setting movie Grease. The other was a forest green sundress that had lace trimming, he has actually seen her wear this one before, when they went out to eat for his birthday, and he remembered how it hugged her in all the right places and showed off her scattering of freckles.

“I don’t know. You decide. I’m not the one who will be wearing it,” Kristoff said.

Anna pursed her lips. “I know, but I just want to look beautiful enough for you,” she pouted.

A soft smile graced Kristoff’s lips and he walked over to where Anna stood, enveloping her in a loving embrace. He leaned his forehead head against hers causing a small hum to escape her delicate lips.

“Anna, you always look beautiful. Whether you're wearing clothes or not.”

Kristoff pushed back her bangs so that he could get a better look at her bluebell eyes, not unaware of the blush that began to tint her cheeks.

Seeing this as a challenge he leaned down and whispered, “Especially when you’re not.”

Anna’s blush went from a soft pink to a beat red. Successful with what he wanted to accomplish, Kristoff grinned with pride.

“Kristoff!” Anna whined. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Anna let out a small huff before standing on her toes so she could entwine her hands behind his neck to give him a small peck on the lips.

“You know, sometimes you can be very frustrating.”

“But that’s why you love me.”

“That, and so many other reasons,” Anna smiled.

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled, bumping her nose with his. “And what would those be?”

“Hmm?” Anna tapped her lips with her finger, which should still not be doing things to him.

She put her arms behind her back and gave him a cheeky little grin.

“Not telling.”

“You little minx.”

Anna picked up the dresses she had dropped on the floor during their embrace and held the sunflower one out in front of her.

“You know,” she said, “I think I’ll wear this one. Besides, you gave this to me so that makes it special.”

It was Kristoff’s turn to blush now. She giggled and gave him a peck on the cheek leaving him standing there dumbfounded as she went to put up the other dress.

Later that night, after dinner they snuggled up on the couch watching reruns of The Office. Kristoff ran his fingers through Anna’s fiery hair, and eventually, she nodded off to sleep. He soon joined her in slumber, allowing his mind to drift to a very important tiny box he had hidden in the top shelf of his dresser.

***

Kristoff had woken up from where he fell asleep on the couch last night, careful not to disrupt Anna as he got up to go make breakfast. He knew she liked to sleep in late and the last thing he needed was upsetting the snoring redhead. While Anna was the kindest person she had ever met, she was also scary as hell. Plus, they wouldn’t be leaving for Ahtohallan till a little after noon anyway, so they weren’t in any kind of rush.

He raised his arms above his head and stretched, his shirt rising up a bit to reveal some of his toned stomach.

Turning on the stove, he cracked a few eggs into the frying pan. He made them scrambled, just how Anna liked them. He added an assortment of other things as well like chives and cheese. Early on in their relationship, he had learned that Anna would eat just about anything as long as it had either two things: cheese or chocolate.

The scent of the delicious concoction of eggs, bacon, and biscuits Kristoff whipped up swirled in the air causing Anna to stir in her sleep. She had tried with all her might to not give in to the delectable aroma, but eventually the mouse had fallen for the trap. Her button nose stuck up to get a better whiff. She looked like a little woodland creature in search of food.

She followed the scent all the way into the kitchen to where Kristoff had begun serving everything on their plates.

“You’re up early?” Kristoff teased, knowing very well that this was a rare occurrence.

Anna gave him a small swat on the shoulder. “Oh shush you.” She opened the fridge door to grab the jelly for their biscuits, strawberry for her and grape for him, and set them on the little round table right outside the kitchen.

“Your breakfast m’lady,” Kristoff said, putting on the best posh accent he could muster and giving a small bowl as he placed the dish in front of her.

“Why thank you kind sir,” Anna replied back with a fancy accent of her own.

“So,” Kristoff said, getting Anna to meet her eyes with his. “Are you excited for our trip?”

Anna nodded before shoving a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“I’m always excited, because it means I get to spend a whole day with you.”

“You see me every day,” Kristoff chuckled, feeling light and happy in his chest. It was a feeling that only Anna was able to give him.

“True, but with work keeping us on our feet and having completely different schedules from one another, we hardly ever get to spend quality time together.”

Anna spread some strawberry jam on her biscuit. Some dripped down the side of her finger and when she licked it, Kristoff could do nothing but stare. It seemed as if with every move she took, made him lose his breath every time.

He must have been staring for quite a while too because suddenly Anna was in his lap with her arms wound around his neck, snapping him out of his reverie. He glanced over to where she was previously sitting across from him and saw that her plate was empty.

She put both her small hands on the side of his face and turned his head so that he was looking at her once again. And when she smashed her lips all he could taste was strawberry jam and Anna, and he would be perfectly fine if time froze in that moment and they stayed that way forever.

“You know strawberry jam may be delicious, but kissing you is always so much sweeter,” Anna sighed.

“You flatter me too much,” Kristoff grinned.

Anna returned the smile before giving him a peck on the lips and leaving to go finish packing any last-minute things.

Kristoff laughed to himself, wondering how he, who came from nothing, had been blessed with Anna, who came from everything.

Anna was the heiress of her father’s manufacturing company, Arendelle Incorporated. Her family had also founded the town they lived in so saying she was popular was a little bit of an understatement. While he was adopted into a family that couldn’t offer much except their love.

Whenever they were out in public people would always whisper. Many believed they didn’t belong together due to their different backgrounds, that Anna was too good for him. But despite all the harsh words and criticism they have received, Anna refused to believe any of it. She said that it doesn’t matter that they come from two different worlds, because she loved him, and love is the strongest thing there is.

With a smile, Kristoff got up from his seat and went into the kitchen to wash his dishes.

***

“Krissss,” Anna groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“We just left the apartment feisty,” he said laughing at his girlfriend’s impatience.

It was a six-and-a-half-hour drive to Ahotohallan, and every single time, no matter how many times they did it, Anna never forgot to show her displeasure for the small road trip. It was rather adorable if Kristoff was being honest.

“But I’m so bored.”

“Turn on the radio.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it before rubbing little circles on it with his thumb. “Besides,…I like it when you sing.”

With a blush, Anna pressed the radio button, flipping through the stations until she settled on one she liked.

A few minutes later she had become lost in the music, singing and doing little dances in her seat as if there was nobody watching. Kristoff loved this view of her. He loved seeing her in her natural element, because it was so Anna and there was nothing better in the world than that. Her voice sounded like birds singing their morning songs when the first light of day appeared over the horizon. She had rolled her window down and her hair looked like a wildfire the way the wind blew through it, making it go in different directions. And Kristoff hoped that he would get to see her like this for the rest of eternity. If Anna accepted the question he had prepared, then that dream would become a reality.

About halfway they had stopped at a burger place to grab some lunch then headed to the nearest gas station to fill up the tank. Anna, of course, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to go inside and grab a few chocolate bars for the road. Kristoff would never understand how someone so small could consume so much of the sweet treat. He was convinced that it wasn’t blood but chocolate sauce that flowed through her veins.

He laughed when she came out holding twelve chocolate bars, saying that there were too many to choose from and that she didn’t want the other chocolate bars to feel bad for not choosing them so the only logical thing to do was to buy one of each. She also said that she would space them out during their trip, but he just shook his head and smiled knowing fully well that all twelve candy bars would not make it by the time they arrived at the hotel.

***

Unfortunately, it took a little longer than usual to arrive at the hotel due to some heavy traffic. Neither of them minded though, because it just meant Anna had more time to sing at the top of her lungs and having little conversations that usually ended with them saying how much they loved one another.

Anna hopped out of the car, “Finally! We’re here!” She hopped up and down on the tips of her toes and clapped her hands together. She looked like a little kid who was about to receive their ice cream cone. “Now we can finally relax and get our vacation started!” She squealed with excitement.

“Don’t get too worked up just yet feistypants. I still have to check-in,” Kristoff chuckled as he made his way over to her with their bags.

The Crocus may not have been five stars, but it was affordable and convenient because it was right on the beach. Kristoff and Anna had never been ones for fancy things anyway.

Anna sat in the lobby admiring the coziness of it all while she waited for Kristoff to return with their room keys. Though she had been here many a time, the homey little hotel never failed to take her breath away.

Speaking of things that took her breath away, Anna was getting a rather pleasant view of Kristoff’s butt from where he stood at the front desk. Those jeans were definitely doing his ass a lot of favors.

The scene had put Anna in such a deep trance that she didn’t even notice that Kristoff had left and made his way over to her.

“Room 209.”

Anna shook her head, bringing herself back to reality. “Hm?”

“Our room,” Kristoff said. “It’s 209.”

“Oh! Um.Our room.209. Got it!” Anna stuttered hoping that he didn’t catch her ogling his butt a few minutes ago.

“Are you okay?” Kristoff raised an eyebrow.

Blood rushed up to her cheeks. “Never better!” She got up and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, staring there awkwardly as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and bit her lip. “Let’s head up shall we.”

She rushed past Kristoff leaving him standing there dumbfounded as to what had just happened before he followed her towards the elevator.

Anna threw herself on the bed sighing with contentment. “Finally!,” she exclaimed. “We can relax and begin our vacation.”

Kristoff joined his girlfriend on the bed grinning at the image of her snuggled up into the pillow with her eyes peering at him. She looked like a kitten curled up in a blanket.

Kristoff pressed her frame against his, his large arms swallowing her in a tight hug. “Just a whole week of just you, me, and spending quality time at one of our favorite places together.”

Anna hummed in agreement. He kissed the top of her head and relished in her soft honeysuckle-scented hair.

They stayed curled up with one another for hours it seemed, one never wanting to let the other go. The peacefulness of the moment, eventually bringing both to a deep slumber.

It was around 5:00 when Kristoff woke up. He figured he would let Anna sleep in a little more before then went and grabbed some dinner.

Carefully unwinding himself from Anna he silently walked over to his suitcase. Unzipping the front pocket he took out the tiny box containing the ring. It glimmered back at him and he looked over his shoulder to make sure Anna hadn’t woken up; if she had seen him the jig would be up.

He ever so quietly put the box back in the small corner of his front bag pocket. He had decided to wake Anna up at 6:00, and for the time being he made himself a cup of tea and got out the chapter book he had currently been reading.

When 6:00 rolled around Kristoff had woken Anna up just as he had planned. Anna quickly fixed her lion's mane that she always got after a good rest and looked up restaurants nearby on her phone to find a place to eat. Settling on an Italian place they headed out the door and down to the lobby.

For dinner they shared a plain cheese pizza, Anna never cared much for toppings. They laughed over stories about moments shared together in their past, with dreams of creating more in the future. And every time Anna’s soft lips wrapped around the straw to take a sip of her Coke she would lick the droplets off her lips causing a pulse to surge through Kristoff’s body. The simple things that woman could do to him was uncanny.

When the check came they had both blushed when the waitress deemed them “The Cutest Couple Ever.”

Now, after a quick stroll through the park, they found themselves back in their bed tangled up in their sheets as they held one another.

Anna absentmindedly twirled the hair on his chest with her index finger, breathing in his woodsy aroma and listening to the beating of his heart. She placed a soft kiss there, “I love it when we get to share moments like this,” she sighed. “Moments where we can let all our worries run free and sunker down into each other's embrace.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Kristoff stroked his fingers through her unruly hair.

“I was always alone when I was little, so I thought I’d never get to have anything like this. I never thought I’d feel as loved as I do now. But then you happened Kristoff Bjorgman. You crashed into my life and changed it for the better.” She propped herself up on her elbows and stared down at him. “I love you, and I will always love you forever and always.”

Kristoff pushed a strand of hair behind her ears, tears welling in his from the sweet words that had just left Anna’s mouth. “I love you too. To the ends of the earth and back.”

Wrapped up in each other’s love, all that could be heard that night were Anna’s soft snores and the heartbeats of two people who were madly in love.

***

Anna woke up, her head still resting on Kristoff’s chest. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared at Kristoff’s sleeping form. He looked like an angel. A very tall blonde muscular angel.

She stroked his hair and he looked up at her drowsily, cracking a lopsided grin.

“Hey beautiful,” he said, bringing her fingers up to his lips for a kiss.

“Hey yourself.” She smiled back at him and he was lost again.

“So?,” he pulled her tighter to his chest. “What would you like to do today?”

Anna tapped her pursed lips. “Hmm…how about we go to the beach? We had a long day of traveling yesterday so I would just kind of like to have a chill day. Know what I mean?”

He pressed a line of kisses from her cheekbone down to the base of her neck and stayed there for a while. “Sounds perfect.”

Anna went to her suitcase to pull out her swimsuit while Kristoff got ready in the bathroom (which didn’t take long at all). Kristoff, unlike Anna, was never really one who cared much about his looks. Of course he made sure he kept up with his hygiene, but for everyday wear, he usually rocked some sort of simple T-shirt and let his hair go wild and free. Oftentimes, people would give him nasty for how unkempt and long his hair was, but Anna liked it that way and to him, that was all that mattered.

When he stepped out of the bathroom his girlfriend looked at him with hungry eyes and he almost had half a mind to strip them both down of any article of clothing and go back to being wrapped up in the sheets. It also didn’t help that Anna gave him a seductive wink when she passed him to go into the bathroom.

It was Anna’s turn to walk out of the bathroom and Kristoff had given her the same look she gave him just a few moments ago.

She wore a black 50’s style one-piece bathing suit with white polka dots. Her hair was put up in a messy bun, the little whispys that had escaped it framing her angelic face with perfection.

His eyes were wild with lust as he looked at the goddess that was his girlfriend.

Anna must have known that the sight of her was making him swoon too because she rubbed her pale star scattered freckled thighs together as she bit her lip peering up at him with shy yet mischievous eyes.

“What do you think?”

He lost all control over his body as he sauntered towards smashing his lips against hers.

“I think,” he whispered into her and her butt a little squeeze, “that I must have the sexiest girlfriend on the planet.”

“Kristoff!” She swatted his chest. “You can’t say things like that.” A blush rose to her cheeks which only made him more confident to tease her a bit more.

“In fact, you're so sexy that I think we should skip going to the beach and hop right back in bed.” He nibbled behind her ear.

“Besides,” he smirked, “I don’t want other guys drooling all over you.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Anna tsked, wagging her finger. “We only get to come here once a year, mister. We’re going to the beach.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “But, don’t get mad at me if I have to fight someone for flirting with you.”

Anna threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. I highly doubt anybody is going to hit on me.You? Yes. People will for sure be wanting a piece of you. But me? No way in hell.”

“You know I really wish you wouldn’t talk that way. You make it sound as if you're not attractive.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

She started to turn the door handle before Kristoff shoved her up against the wood and pressed his mouth over hers in a firm kiss.

“Don’t,” Kristoff breathed across her lips, “you dare say that. You are the most beautiful being on the planet and I pity anyone who doesn’t agree with me.”

Tears gleamed in Anna’s, making her blue orbs sparkle like the ocean right outside of their hotel. Words got caught in her throat and the only thing she could do was reply back with a kiss.

***

Anna couldn’t believe it, but Kristoff had been right. They were lounging in their beach chairs when Anna decided to go grab them drinks from the bar. After placing her order and taking a seat at the countertop while she waited for them, a tall skinny man with eyes of emerald green and dark auburn hair with sideburns took a seat right next to her. He pulled his stool closer, and when Anna had tried moving away he would scoot right next to her again.

Anna stood up to move down to another stool, but as she started to walk away a slender hand gently gripped her tiny wrist.

Anna’s heart dropped as she slowly turned her head to look at the stranger with frightened eyes.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable miss. It’s just that, when I see a woman as beautiful as you I can’t help but wanna introduce myself.”

“That’s very flattering of you to say-I think-but I do have a boyfriend.” Anna made sure to elaborate on the word “boyfriend” to make it clear that she was unavailable and that hopefully the guy would leave her alone.

“Well, that’s too bad.” He gave her a sweet sinister smile and fear washed over her.

He still held her wrist and when she tried to break free he pulled her to him.

“However,” he paused to kiss her hand. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I borrow you for a little while.”

Anna looked over his shoulder with frantic eyes, hoping to find a bartender or some other beach guest who would notice her discomfort. Kristoff was on the other side of the bar and out of sight from her so she couldn’t rely on him either, though if he were to have seen the situation Anna had no doubt he would be here in a heartbeat.

She would have to deal with the problem on her own.

“Actually,” Anna furrowed her brow trying to put on the sternest look possible. “I don’t think he would. And quite frankly I wouldn’t appreciate it very much either. Now I already told you I am not interested so please respect my wishes and leave me alone,” she huffed.

She pushed him away before he grabbed hold of her waist and pressed her body against his once more.

“Come on darling, don't be that way. I promise to show you a good time.”

Anna tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he was surprisingly strong for such a scrawny man.

“No!,” she screamed, finally turning the heads of those around them. “Let me go! Leave me alone!”

She twisted and turned but to no avail could she break free; that was until a fist had collided with her aggressor’s face.

Screams and gasps spread throughout the beach like a tidal wave.

Looking up to see her hero’s face, she cried a breath of relief to find Kristoff standing over the man’s limp body, seething with anger.

Kristoff grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed him up against the countertop. “If I ever catch you near my girlfriend again you can be sure I’ll do more than just punch you.”

Kristoff threw him back onto the ground standing tall and brooding, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched him skimper away like a scared dog.

He turned to Anna, his face softening as he brought her into a warm hug.

She rested her head against his shoulder, her small frame small trembling against his large one. He placed a kiss there as he gently caressed her hair.

He pulled back to look at her, “You okay?”

“I am now, thanks to you.” She smiled softly at him and he kissed her forehead.

“Were you scared?”

“Only a little, but I’m glad you came to my rescue.”

He gave her one of his iconic sappy grins and it made her heart flutter.

“Always.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Even though I know you could have totally kicked his ass.”

“Damn right I could have.”

Kristoff gave a whole-hearted laugh and Anna joined in, her giggles creating a symphony with his chuckles.

The rest of the day was spent splashing each other in the salty waters of the ocean, buried each other in the sand, held a sandcastle contest-which Anna had won- and ended with them holding each other close as they watched the sunset beneath the horizon.

When they arrived back at the room they hopped in the shower helping one another wash the salt out of their hair.

Once more they were now tangled in the sheets of their love, drifting off to sleep with the sound of the other’s heartbeat.

***

For the next few days, Anna and Kristoff spent their time going on hikes, shopping at their favorite local stores, visiting the town’s attractions, and so on.

Now, on their last night here, Kristoff sat at the foot of their bed dressed in the best casual clothes he had, fumbling with the small box he held in his hands. Anna was still in the bathroom “making herself pretty,” as she called it even though he told her that she was beautiful just the way she was.

Taking one last deep breath he put the ring in the little gift bag he bought to carry it in. Since he wasn’t wearing a suit he didn’t have a pocket to hide it in except for his jeans, but Anna would for sure be able to make out the outline of the box if he did that.

“Whatcha got there?”

Kristoff jumped at the sound of Anna’s voice behind him. He was so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard her come out of the bathroom and accidentally run into the dresser cursing, as she walked up to him.

“Oh! Uh…it’s nothing!,” he stuttered.

“Kristoff I love you I really do, but please don’t take this the wrong way when I say you have never been a very good liar.”

Caving into Anna’s persistence he picked the bag off the ground and showed it to her. He had wanted to keep it a secret, but knew his nosy girlfriend wouldn’t stop pestering him until she got what she wanted.

“I got you a gift. You know just a little something to show how much I love you.” He gave her a dopey smile before adding, “But, it’s for after dinner. So no peeking.”

“Aww, Kristoff! That’s very sweet of you, but you don’t need to get me a gift to prove that you love me. I know that by heart.”

Her words made his heart flutter and he took her hand rubbing small circles over before kidding each one of her fingers.

“You ready?,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said more to himself than to her.

Together they walked the quiet streets that guided them to their destination and before long they had arrived at a familiar little diner with a big retro light-up sign that said Reindeer Circle.

They preferred their usuals, for Anna a large chocolate shake with extra whip cream and a plate of chicken fingers with curly fries, and for Kristoff a hamburger with regular fries-though he knew Anna would probably eat some of them-and a glass of water.

They chatted and laughed as they enjoyed their meals, the time encroaching ever so closer for Kristoff to pop his big question. And as the waitress had taken their dishes away, he decided that it was now or never.

“Anna?”

She had turned her attention away from the window and back to him. “Hm?,” she sighed dreamily, gently squeezing their clasped hands in the middle of the table.

“I think it may be time for me to give you your present.”

Interest piqued in her eyes and she lifted her head from where it rested in the palm of her hand.

“Oh? Really?!” She clapped her hands together, unable to contain her excitement.

“Um? Yeah…just let me,” he cleared his throat, “let me prepare myself right quick.”

“Prepare yourself? Kristoff what are you-”

She was cut off mid-sentence at the sight of Kristoff, down on one knee holding open a box with a ring, in front of her.

“Anna Arendelle you are the most extraordinary person I ever had the pleasure of meeting. Before you, I thought my destiny was to just live on my own for the rest of my life. But, you came crashing into it with your infectious love and proved me wrong. They say everyone has an angel, and you are mine. Will make me that happiest man on earth, and marry me?”

Tears formed in Anna’s eyes and she threw herself into Kristoff’s arms, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”

Applause spread through the diner and Kristoff spun Anna in the air, kissing her deeply as he slid the ring in her finger.

Anna admired it. In the middle was a stone of amber on a gold band with intricate petal designs that had made it look like a sunflower. It was so perfect and knowing that it was Kristoff who picked it out caused her heart to overflow with overwhelming love and desire for him.

After the excitement had settled, they had already begun discussing wedding plans.

“I think we should have it here, in Ahotohallan. On the beach,” Anna said with a smile.

“Unless…you know…you would rather have it somewhere else. I just thought it would be cute to have it at a place we both loved, and I always dreamed of having a beach wedding since I was a little girl. I always thought it was romantic. But, if you don’t think it’s a good idea I totally understand! You know what, forget I said anything it’s stupid.”

“Hey! Hey! Anna!,” he cradled her face in his calloused palms and brushed a thumb across her ivory freckled cheek. “I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.”

That night as Anna lay in the comfort of Kristoff’s arms, she stared at the ring glistening in the moonlight that shone through the window with visions of many more summer vacations to come.

#kristanna #kristanna fanfiction #my fanfiction #frozine #summer lovin frozine #fanfiction

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vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

The Sacred Art of Hamburger-Making

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Momo Yaoyorozu, Denki Kaminari, & Hanta Sero

Hey, hey, everybody! This is the second story I wrote for @cuizineco’s Heroes in the Baking zine, which is free to download!

Momo hummed under her breath as she filed her nails, sitting between Hanta and Denki on the common room sofa. The air was filled with clacking and clicking as the two boys feverishly jabbed the buttons and spun the joysticks on their controllers; both of their eyes were fixed on the martial arts video game they were embroiled in. Momo enjoyed the rare instances where they came down to the common room to play; she found something about their competitive energy so invigorating, especially after a hard day’s training.

Just as she had finished buffing her shiny, neatly-trimmed nails, a deep voice boomed from the television to announce with dramatic fervor, “Fatality!” while thick red blood splattered the word across the screen. Hanta jumped up from the couch with a triumphant crow, nearly flinging the controller as he flung his hands into the air, while the defeated Denki melted into the couch cushions with a groan.

“Don’t worry, Denki. You’ll beat him next time,” Momo encouraged with a sweet smile.

“No, he won’t, because he’s a loserrrrr!” Hanta teased while making an L-shape on his forehead with his fingers. Denki stuck out his tongue angrily to his friend before humming thoughtfully.

“Man, we’ve been playing for hours. I’m starving… You know what I could go for right now? A big, greasy, cheesy, American-style hamburger,” he sighed dreamily, salivating at the words alone. Momo perked up, her interest piqued.

“Oh, I’ve never had a hamburger before.”

If they were on a comedy show, one would have heard a record scratch. Denki’s head whipped around to stare at her with owlish eyes for a second before he chuckled magnanimously and slipped his arm around her slim shoulders, his expression melting into one a mixture of pity and mischievousness.

“Momo. Dear. Honey. You’ve never had a hamburger?” the blond asked in a polite but disbelieving voice. Unsure what all the fuss was about, Momo slowly shook her head.

“Now that’s what I call a got-damn tragedy,” Hanta observed before shoving a handful of potato chips into his mouth. As he munched on the barbecue-flavored crisps, crumbs and powder raining from his lips down onto his tee-shirt, he looked at Denki pointedly. “We have to amend that, don’t we, Denks?”

“We most certainly do,” the blond nodded sagely, pinching his chin and closing his eyes like the picture of a pensive philosopher. “We cannot allow Momo here, our dear friend, our beloved classmate and light of our bleak lives, to remain in such a sorry state. So… To the kitchen!” he announced and jumped up, pointing a finger into the air. “By our hand, we will allow Momo to suffer no longer!”

Are hamburgers really that good? Momo wondered as she followed the two boys to the adjoining kitchen. They probably weren’t, but watching the two tear through the cabinets and refrigerator to gather all the necessary tools and ingredients was so energizing that Momo found herself growing excited. She’d never seen Denki so animated about cooking before; he was all smiles as he pranced around wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron of All Might in a chef’s hat, so she couldn’t refuse him even if she wanted to.

“All right, Chef Denki,” Momo chuckled as she tied an apple-patterned apron around her waist, “I’m under your tutelage tonight.”

“It’s the only thing he’ll ever tutor you in,” Hanta joked, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from his cohort.

“Anyway,” Denki said and cleared his throat, “pay close attention, Momo. I am going to teach you the sacred art of making hamburgers. First, we have to make the patties.” He took a few packs of ground meat and sliced open the plastic, dumping the stringy pink-red meat into a large aluminum bowl.

“Everyone says they’re down with hamburgers tonight,” Hanta reported, sitting on the counter typing away at his phone.

“Let’s see— with twenty people plus Mr. Aizawa, with an average of two burgers a person, that would be… forty patties,” he rattled off, using his fingers to count as he multiplied in his head. “We should be able to manage that between the three of us. Hanta, would you go ahead and plug in the mini-grill so it’ll be heated up?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Denki returned his attention to the patiently-waiting Momo.

“Now then. First, you want to make sure your patties are the right consistency, so you mix it with bread crumbs.” Momo watched with raised eyebrows as he took a box of them and dumped some into the bowl. “You want your patties to stick together, obviously, so you add eggs—” he continued as he cracked some open, spilling the golden yolks into the bowl— “and then milk to soften up the meat a little. Finally— and this is the most important part, Momo— you season it to perfection!”

Momo watched in wonder as he added several spices and a dark brown sauce to the mix, saturating the meat in flavor, without even taking measurements. As he was telling her how to mix it up, scrunching the meat and other ingredients together with his hands, she smiled endearingly.

“Wow, you’ve cooked this a lot, huh?”

“Yup! Me and my folks took an overseas trip once to America when I was young, and we loved the hamburgers so much that we got a recipe from one of the locals! It became a staple in my household! Fast food burgers are nice n’ all, but nothing really compares to a good ol’ beefy homemade burger!” Denki grinned widely.

“I think that’s great! Would you like me to get started on another bowl of ground beef, then?”

“Yes, please!”

Under Denki’s careful guidance, Momo added the ingredients one at a time to the bowl. When it came time to combine them, she squealed at the odd sensation of the sticky, gooey meat, fluid sauce and egg, and gritty powder squishing between her fingers. Denki laughed heartily at the disgusted faces she made while mixing up the ground beef, squeaking and shuddering all the while, until it was uniform. In the background, Hanta had been doing other small tasks like chopping lettuce and onions, slicing tomatoes and cheese, and setting out condiments. He finally joined them at the counter, wiping tomato juice off his hands with a dishtowel.

“It’s a messy job,” Denki said as he grabbed a fistful of the meat, “but we’re not done yet! Now it’s time to make the patties.”

“Ooh! My favorite part!” Hanta grinned, grabbing hamburger meat from Momo’s bowl with both hands. “Ya just roll it into a ball, then flatten it into a nice, round patty,” he said while demonstrating the motions. He then walked over to the simmering grill to plop it on the ridged surface. “Then ya grill it until it’s just right, and boom! Nice, tasty, juicy hamburger.”

“Hanta, have you been to America, too?” Momo inquired as she slowly replicated the motion, still cringing at the sliminess of the raw meat.

“Nah. I spent a lot of summer break at Denki’s house, though, and his old man taught me how to make ‘em!” Hanta said as he slapped another patty onto the small grill and closed the lid, filling the air with sizzling and popping. While he waited for the meat to brown, he leaned against the counter and flashed Momo a wink. “I felt kinda honored being included in the Kaminari family tradition of summer cook-outs!”

“You’re my best friend! Of course you would be!” Denki grinned, sauntering over to bump elbows with Hanta. “And, since Momo is our best girl,” he continued while turning around to wink saucily at Momo, “it’s natural that she be included, too!”

“Ah! Stop it; you’re going to make me blush!” Momo cried and, in her momentary embarrassment, slapped her palms to her cheeks. All the blood drained from her face as she realized she was smooshing raw meat and seasoning on her face. She screamed shrilly and ripped her hands away from her face, horrified by the bits of pulverized meat falling from her cheeks. As she raced to the sink, Hanta and Denki fell to the floor howling with laughter. “Stop it! It’s not funny!” she cried as she scraped at her face with a soapy sponge, tossing a glare over her shoulder.

“Actually, it really is, Yaomomo,” Denki snorted as he climbed back up to resume making hamburger patties. Momo just sniffed dourly, thoroughly embarrassed. Then, an evil idea hatched in her mind; stealthily, she filled her cupped hands with ice-cold water and crept up behind Denki. Just as he took notice of her presence, she dumped it down the neck of his shirt. He yelped and his back arched backward as the cold liquid hit his skin.

“Aye, aye, what the hell was that for?!”

“Serves you right!” Hanta laughed, pointing at him and completely unaware that he was the next in Momo’s cross-hairs. “Wha—?” he blinked owlishly as Momo flung a glob of the raw meat at him; it collided with his cheek with a wet slap, slowly sliding down before landing on his tennis shoe. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Hey, you morons! Don’t tell me you’re messing around in the kitchen!” boomed a grouchy voice. Momo turned to see Katsuki stomping in, his hands buried in his cargo pants pockets and his lips stretched in a scowl. His vermillion eyes slowly slid down to the chunk of meat dripping on Hanta’s shoe. “What the hell?! You can’t just waste food like that! Who taught you losers to cook?!”

“Oi! This is my show! Go yell at someone else, Baku-bro!” Denki whined and poked at Katsuki with his foot as he continued to quickly pile up patties on aluminum foil next to Hanta, who returned from cleaning off his face to take the broiled hamburgers off the grill and put them on some buns. Katsuki slapped Denki’s foot away but obediently shambled out of the kitchen to join the rest of their peers, who had been attracted by the savory aroma now clouding the air.

“All right, the guest of honor gets to try first,” Hanta grinned as he presented Momo with a fully dressed hamburger complete with a side of potato chips. As she took the paper plate, she was amazed at the weight of the thing, nearly spilling it all as she hastily recovered from the plate dipping. She set it safely on the counter before looking at it, wondering how the heck to eat it.

“I… With my hands…?”

“Hell yeah, girl! Get in there!” Denki encouraged with an airy laugh. Momo blushed before timidly grabbing the hamburger, grimacing at the juice that leaked onto her fingers when she lightly squeezed it. She craned her neck over the plate as she leaned in for a bite, trying not to drip it all over her clothes. First came the soft bread, then crunchy lettuce and tomato, then melty cheese, and then finally the savory meat. Momo hummed as the robust flavor exploded on her tongue, complemented by all the toppings.

“Well? Amazing or what?” Denki grinned as he sidled up to her, wiggling his golden eyebrows expectantly. Too busy savoring the symphony of flavors on her tongue, Momo only nodded with her eyes fluttering shut. “Woohoo! Atta girl! Look at our Momo, getting messy with a big ol’ hamburger!” Denki laughed as he did a celebratory jig.

“Ehhh? Did I hear Momo eating hamburgers?” Mina said as she poked her head in. Momo was mid-bite, her mouth stretching wide to accommodate the thick patty, and she froze to blink owlishly at the pink girl. “Ahhhh! Look how far you’ve come! Finally embracing the ways of us commoners, eh?”

Instead of replying, Momo just crunched down on the burger, smiling dreamily as the deliciousness once again graced her senses.

She had the answer to her question. Hamburgers were really that good! While the others began to file into the kitchen to claim their meals from Denki and Hanta, Momo savored hers bite by bite until she was finished. When she sheepishly presented her plate to Denki for seconds, he laughed and began fixing it for her. The others had vacated the premises, leaving only the two of them.

“Thanks for sharing this with me, Denki. I had a lot of fun, and it was really good!” she said as he plopped a piece of pale green lettuce atop her patty.

“To be honest, I was a little scared you wouldn’t enjoy it,” he admitted shyly, giving her a side glance as she gasped in shock. “I know you come from a really wealthy family, Momo, and generally… Rich folks don’t think highly of us little guys, you know?”

“I know.” Though Momo’s family was kind and tolerant, that still didn’t mean that she hadn’t seen the uglier side of the bourgeoisie. With a soft smile, she wrung her arms around Denki’s waist and laid her head on his shoulder to squeeze him in a tight hug. “But I consider myself lucky! You guys teach me all kinds of neat and wonderful things, and I get to share things about my life with you all, too. I would never, ever judge you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Denki hummed and gently bonked his head with hers. “Here you go, Momo. I hope you enjoy your seconds.”

“Thanks,” she said as she took the plate. She then grinned roguishly. “To be honest, I might be up for thirds.”

Like the hearty scent of homemade hamburgers wafting around the small kitchen, her and Denki’s laughter filled the air.

Nope. In Momo’s book, nothing really did compare to one of Denki’s hamburgers, and it soon became one of her favorite things to cook with her friends, even out of all the things she learned from them.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #hanta sero #sero hanta #momo yaoyorozu #yaoyorozu momo

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angst-in-space · 4 years ago

Text

december ‘20 writing progress (and yearly wrap-up)

december progress:

words written: 15.2k

yearly total: 248.8k

projects worked on:

- sylvix dreamscape fic - edited/posted the sylvix xmas fic, “where the love light gleams” - finished writing the altea rising recap - worked on a couple secret projects

december goals: - reach my yearly goal of writing 250k words....*sweats* (ok i didn’t quite get there but i’ll give myself credit cuz i was only like 200 words off) - finish/submit final draft of piece for long live zine - finish editing and publish the sylvix xmas fic! - finish/publish [redacted] and [redacted] - work some more on the sylvix dreamscape fic - finish the altea rising recap summary (and....maybe work a little on chapter 19 if i have time)

notes:

well, december was....a very busy month. had kind of a hellish start to the month what with a health-related thing (not covid, don’t worry i’m fine dkfjdl) so that kinda sapped my energy for about a week. then ofc there was the holidays and everything. aaand on top of that i had like four writing deadlines (although like....two of them were postponed so that was good haha).

but anyway! i did at least manage to finish a couple of things––mainly my sylvix christmas fic (“where the love light gleams”), finishing/submitting my “long live” zine piece, FINALLY finishing the altea rising recap summary ... and also finishing one secret thing that is not published yet, but it’s for a fandom i’ve never written before and i’ll be very excited to publish it once i can!

other than that, i mostly worked on the sylvix dreamscape fic and on a secret santa exchange fic that i still have not finished (we extended the deadline to end of january bc like...no one in the group had finished by end of december lol).

i didn’t quite reach my goal of 250k words for the year, but i mean my initial goal was 150k and i only ended up being about 200 words shy of 250k SO i still think that’s a big win lol.

as for what i’ll be working on next: top priority is finishing the secret santa fic. but i also hope to keep working on the sylvix dreamscape fic. aaand hoping to edit/publish the klance hotel au by the end of january maybe, since uh i finished a draft of it in november and STILL have not finished editing that so OOPS. and mayyybe will finally delve into finishing the last few chapters of altea rising, and maybe at least start editing chapter 15 but that’s pretty optimistic of me lmao.

2020 wrap up:

total words written: 248.8k most words written in a month: 50.1k (november) least words written in a month: 14.1k (march)

works completed:

- want your fire on me - i know a place we can run - illumination - cover my skin with your sunkissed light - where the love light gleams - klance hotel au (not published yet) - [secret project] (not published yet) - miles to go (my zine piece for “long live”, not published yet) other wips: - sylvix dreamscape fic - altea rising - secret santa fic - planning my wlw YA sci-fi novel

2020 goals:

- write every day - write at least 150k words - focus more on my multichaps - finish altea rising - finish a couple of my kl standalone fics?? not sure which ones yet, but yeah! - finish galolio fic - write burning hearts piece - work on wangxian fic w jessie! - maybe start writing something original??

notes:

all in all, a very productive year! there were some yearly goals i did not reach (i.e. finishing my old klance multichaps.....rip) but i mean, i also ended up getting involved in (and writing fic for) several other fandoms, so i couldn’t really have anticipated that at the beginning of the year. i’m really happy with the two sylvix fics i’ve published so far, and i hope to write a lot more for them this year!

so yeah... i have a few big projects i want to tackle in 2021. firstly the sylvix dreamscape fic is...already over 30k and i’m estimating it’ll probably end up being a total of somewhere around 50k-60k so uh yeah that’s gonna be a big commitment lol. but i think i’m gonna do the same thing i did with “cover my skin...” and make it a chaptered fic. not sure when i will start posting it but i’m hoping ideally sometime in like late february or early march, depending on a few things.

i have a few other sylvix fics i also hope to at least start writing sometime this year. one in particular i have had fully planned out for months but ironically have not started it yet even though it was the first sylvix fic idea i came up with... but yeah i might start that one after the dreamscape fic is done. i also have a couple aus that i might tackle, but they both need a lot more fleshing out before i even begin writing them so hmm we shall see.

besides that... i do really honestly want to finish my klance multichaps even tho it’s been...over a year since i updated either of them and idk if anyone even gives a shit anymore but i’m a completionist at heart and just wanna see them through sooo yEAH. i have at least finished writing up a (very long) summary of everything i’ve written of altea rising so far, mostly to recap myself to make sure i tie up all the loose ends in the last few chapters. i did work a bit on actually writing it in 2020 although tbh i like kinda fell off the rails once i fell into fe3h/sylvix hell BUT i still intend to get back to it because i do still have a soft spot for it and want to finish it. and long story short, i’ve decided to divide up what i’ve written of the last part into like...5-ish chapters so yeah, hopefully i can start posting those at some point in the near future. ....and uhh i don’t think i worked on red skies at all in 2020 which makes me sad bc i still love that fic dearly and want to complete it as well, it just may take me a few months to get back to it but hey if i’m able to update it at all in 2021 that would be great haha. another thing i’m hoping is to possibly open commissions in 2021, something i said i would do in 2020 and never did but....kinda wanna give it a try, especially because i am funemployed once again. :’) AND LASTLY...i’ve been planning an original wlw YA sci-fi novel for like two years and i would really love to start at least the first draft of it this year....that would be neat.

so yeah this post is starting to get insanely long but i’ll just wrap up with my 2021 goals and january goals, and...yeah. 2020 sure was a weird year, here’s hoping 2021 is (at least..slightly...??) better.

2021 goals: - write every day - write at least 150k words - finish the sylvix dreamscape fic - start on like 1 or 2 other sylvix multichaps...? - finish altea rising - work on red skies again - do some fic commissions - continue planning my novel and maybe start the first draft january goals: - finish secret santa fic - publish [redacted] - work on sylvix dreamscape fic - edit klance hotel au (hopefully send to betas by end of month at least?) - maybe work on altea rising ch. 19

#brigidposts #writing updates #monthly writing progress 2020 #fanfic #text #long post

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shymeg · 5 years ago

Note

Ms Meg!! I just can't get enough of bughead and empire records. Can you do something small with stuck in the record shop?

Chapter 1 For the lovely @theheavycrown thank you for being patient with me. I hope you like it. @dreamer757 I thought of you when I was writing some of this. After all you help create Archie Andrews day!

Author’s note: This is not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own. It’s loosely based on Empire Records, so that that mentions will happen from time to time. Songs will be found both old and new. Thanks again to @theheavycrown for asking me to do this and getting me out of my element. @dreamer757 for writing that empire records fic to help me think how this one might work. You are a great artist and thank you for creating Archie as the villain egotistical male @dapperseoul for the gif

Summary: Jughead and Betty work in a record store. One of the few that are still standing. Partly due to Jughead's underground zine and his knowledge of music. What happens when they get stuck in the record store with Archie Andrews, the up and coming pop star?

Archie Andrews Day at Lodge Records Chapter 1

The night before Archie's Andrew's Day. At Lodge Records

The music in front of the store was playing ,Watermelon Sugar. by Harry Styles.

Jughead wasn't sure how people could listen to it. He secretly wanted to slip in Coyote Shivers, Sugar High. He personally thought that one was better and dirtier.

Jughead Jones was regretting having to work tomorrow. He slowly moved to the backroom. To avoid having to do with anything having to do with that day.

He, for one, was not into, meet and greets.

He may love music enjoyed having the space to work on his zine, but having to feed into this teen heartthrob that he felt couldn't sing.

Archie just knew the right people to get in the door. Archie sounded whiny; he could swoon a girl with his love songs. Cause, of course, they all want their men to sing that to them.

Jughead wanted to puke to even have to help with the set up for tomorrow. So he decided to hide in the workroom, claiming he had to finish some last-minute touches to his zine article.

He put on the headphones he put on that exact song he wanted to slip in instead of the sound blaring upfront.

Betty was working the cashier out front (music playing You should be sad, by Halsey).

When Dilton walked up to her, "Betty, I need you to get Jughead out here please" She just shrugged and moved so he could take her spot. She wanted to laugh a little that he thought he was an assistant manager. He only assumed that because of the person that should be assistant refused to do so.

When she walked back to the backroom, she heard the song switch to Good as hell by Lizzo and Ariana Grande

Working on his zine with his headphones on. Betty knew Jughead was a writer; she also knew that he was a movie buff, and the music he listened to wasn't typically the mainstream. He had a knack to sell you a record instead of a CD. The costumers seem to flock to him. Maybe it was the way he worded things, or perhaps it was his knowledge like he read up on all the artists they were selling. Either way, watching him work, she almost didn't want to bother him. Almost being the keyword.

she tapped on his shoulder, "Hey Jug."

Jughead takes off his headphones and stares at Betty. His music blasting some Operation Ivy, Take Warning.

"What's up, Betty?"

As he closes his laptop, and his azure eyes stare into her, she almost forgets what she was going to say. Almost.

"You need to be out front, selling not working on that!"

He laughs, the sweetest laugh she's ever heard.

"Was that a directive from Mr. Lodge himself?"

She squeaks, "What no, he's not here! That's from Penny"

His eyebrows go up, "OH."

"As long as I'm selling and not helping with Archie Andrews day," he says somewhat sarcastically, almost bitter.

Betty stares at him, thinking, "Why? Archie's cute!"

he mimics Betty, "Yeah, so cute, think he'd date me?"

Betty wants to slap him, "Well, I'm going to lose my virginity to him!"

Jughead gets up, "Good for you, just know it'll be nothing special, and you'd probably have to do all the work!" He winks at her, "Thanks for letting me know your plans want me to get you some candles and condoms?"

Her mouth opened and closed, and he smiled, knowing he caught her off guard he loved doing that.

He was about to leave the backroom when Betty said, "Jughead, what is that movie we watched from the '90s about a record store?"

Jughead smiles, "Empire Records."

Betty shakes her finger at him, "Right Empire Records. Who is the guy that was gluing all the stuff down?"

"A.J."

"And who did A.J. love again?"

"Corey"

"So what would A.J. have done if he saw Corey stripping for Rex Manning?"

"Draw a picture of it?" He chuckles, "Nah, he'd throw up!" He shrugs his shoulders "He wouldn't confess his love to her at 1:37 exactly."

His eyes turn dark. He crosses his arms, "He'd realize that Corey is no different than any other teen pop girl that throws herself at her teen idol crush. Not realizing they are human. That this guy probably gets this non-stop and hey if she/he is willing to go ahead. He won't stop you."

"However, A.J. would probably date Deb; they are both creative, trying to find themselves and not really genuinely being heard by the people they like. Corey is blind; clearly, A.J. is hurt. He won't punch out the moron who is Rex. He'd just realize Corey is the wrong one let her go off to Harvard. He'd feel bad for her, though, because that's not how her first time should be. She'd probably regret it because he wouldn't treat her like the love songs he sings about. "

Betty was going to say something, but now she can't. Her words seem void somehow. That was deep. Maybe part of Jughead was in there. He was a mystery; honestly, she had no clue how he felt about her. Jug always seemed to want to protect her. Betty kind of felt like that was just in his DNA.

Dilton walked in, "Jughead Penny needs you on the floor, man."

"Got it!"

As Jughead walks out, "I hope nothing happens where I'm locked in this store with Archie Andrews."

Betty smiles, "Oh, I hope it does Jug, I hope we all get stuck together."

He laughs, "Yes, Mr. Lodge would love that!"

As he walks back out, he wished to have his headphones because Maroon 5 Memories was playing. He was beginning to wonder who picked this station. Yet tomorrow, when he worked, most of it would be Archie's songs. So he'd rather deal with this.

"What's up, Penny?"

"Can you close tonight, Jughead?"

"No, I can't Penny, I told you that!"

"I can't have Dilton do it."

"Well, I can't either Penny, I'm not even old enough to close yet." she knew this. He did too, yet more often than not, he was the one closing.

He looked at her, "Isn't Reggie working?"

"You want me to trust Reggie with my money?"

He laughed, "Well, Penny, it's either him or Dilton I can't." He looked at his watch, "I'm off an hour."

She rolled her eyes, "Jug, please!"

"Sure Penny, I will if I get to tomorrow off."

she scowled and stated, "Oh hell no!" she pointed her finger at him, "You will be opening though"

"Always Penny, always," he gave her his best grin.

Betty came back out front to run the cash register next to him. Penny smiled at him and walked back to her office.

Archie Andrews Day!

Jughead opened the store like he was supposed too. Since he was the only one in there. He put on some Descendants, Coffee Mug Rancid, 11th Hour, and Korn A.d..i.d.a.s before the rest of the crew came in.

He made the coffee dark and intense like his soul. He swiped down everything that would be used for Archie and the employees that had to be with him. Made sure the boss lady's door was locked like Reggie was supposed to do when he closed. For once, it was locked. He wasn't sure if he should take that as a bad sign.

When Fangs walked in, "What's up, Jughead ready for Andrews's day!"

"oh, Hell, no!" Jughead stuck his middle finger at Fangs, "Don't you dare say it."

"But, he's so cute though," and he bursts into laughter.

Jughead play hits him, funny dude.

Sweet Pea walks in, "So what's with today, today?"

"Are you drunk, Sweets"? Fangs said while laughing

"No, just quoting one of Jug's movies that secretly cursed him with his own Rex Manning."

"Fuck it did Pea I need to quit like right now!"

"Oh, Jug quit being dramatic."

they all start laughing when Betty and Toni walk in.

Jughead looks at Betty, knowing very well what she had told him the day before. He really didn't need that image in his head for a 17-year-old male that was dramatic and traumatic, according to him.

He decided instead, "Toni and Betty you make sure the TV's work, so we hear the song on a repeat of

can you be my valentine? by Archie Andrews."

Toni Just smiled, "Anything else?"

Yeah, "Can you two run the cash registers for the first half-hour?" Toni and Betty look at each other and head out.

Jughead shouts," Was that a yes?"

He hears Toni say, "Sure if we can play the Skittles game."

"Yes"

He hears Fangs say, "Don't eat them all this time, Jughead" Jug just laughs it off.

Alright, Fangs,” you are guard duty outside with the walkies so we can have ground control, Cool?"

Fangs smile, "Hell, yes"!

He smiles at Pea, "Oh Pea, you get to guard Archie Andrews after his own bodyguard."

He sees Pea roll his eyes, "Oh, Joy!"

That's when Penny walks in. She hears Jughead assigning roles. She can't deny how that makes her secretly happy.

Fangs smugly, "What are you going to do, Jughead?"

Jughead smugly responds, "Inventory."

Pea friendly punches him, "Of course you are"

Jughead thinks to himself. The only reason why I am is that Penny doesn't trust you. The only other person she believes can handle it is probably Betty. Betty needs to be upfront cause she's more people-friendly. He looked at his watch and smiled.

As Dire Straits, Like Romeo and Juliet, came on.

Skittles came 1...2...3.... go!

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

Text

The Infamous Jethro Tull Incident

PART THIRTY-THREE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of anxiety/panic attacks please read with caution, plentiful pop culture references, allergies

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: Visiting Stars Hollow once again, Ella and Jess help Luke with his custody battle and see the Spring Fling.

A/N: The descriptions of panic attacks in this chapter and in this fic are based on research and my own experiences. Everyone is different. If you need to talk, I am always here. I just felt Gilmore Girls always kind of ignored Jess’s trauma, and the after-effects it would have had on him.

Though Chris and Matthew had invited them out, neither Jess nor Ella had any desire to eat at some fancy restaurant on a Sunday night. It was under the guise of a celebration over the monthly Zine including an interview with someone who had once interned for Dave Eggers. Not that it was a small feat, but both Ella and Jess knew it was simply just an excuse for Chris and Matthew to go on an expensive double date. Often, the two called them frugal. And they called the two of them unnecessarily hedonistic. Whatever the case, Ella was glad to have the apartment for the night. Two days into spring break, and she was still only just bouncing back from the mid-semester exhaustion.

She sat cross-legged in her pajamas on the couch, sketching, as the water on the stove began to boil. Once again, she was attempting dinner. Spaghetti, something simple, she’d told Jess earlier in the evening. She could totally manage it. She still couldn’t understand why her baking skills were never able to travel over into cooking territory. Just as she finished the lines around the eyes, the phone on the counter began ringing. Putting her sketchbook to the side, she rushed up to the counter and saw it was Jess’s cellphone alight with a number.

“Jess Mariano’s phone,” she said as she opened the phone, hoping to answer in time.

“Ella?” the voice came through the receiver.

“Luke?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

A smile came to her lips. “Hey, boss! How are you?”

Luke cleared his throat, hesitating a minute. “Oh, well I…”

“Jess is in the shower, but I can get him if you really need to talk,” she cut in, growing worried. Not only because she noticed the water on the stove was boiling over and hissing on the oven. She dashed over to the stove.

“No, that’s okay. I have no desire to speak to him while he’s any degree of naked,” Luke said gruffly.

Ella uttered a chuckle and she stirred the pot to lessen the overflow. “Well, that makes one of us.”

Only a heavy sigh came from the other side of the phone.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said. As she broke the spaghetti in half, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder, several noodles flew across the kitchen. A few landed on the burner and started to smoke instantly. “Fuck!”

“What?” Luke asked, suddenly alarmed.

Growling under her breath in frustration, she sweeped the noodles from the burner with a damp kitchen towel. “Nothing, sorry. The spaghetti caught on fire but it’s fine now.”

“Why are you trying to make spaghetti? You can hardly make toast,” Luke groaned knowingly.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m broadening my horizons, alright? But that doesn’t matter. What’s going on?”

“Well, uh...you know April?”

“The name rings a bell, yes.”

“Well, Anna wants to move her to New Mexico,” Luke said, voice emotionless. “And I’m trying to get joint custody. The lawyer uh...he said Jess, or you, might be a good character reference. The trial, or whatever we should call it, is on Tuesday. If you can’t get here, that’s fine. They’re speeding up the process because they’re moving away so soon. You could just put it in writing, but I don’t know if it would get here in the mail. So, if you can’t, I completely-”

“Luke,” she interjected.

“Yeah?”

“We’ll be there,” Ella said with finality. “What time is the hearing?”

“Eight,” he answered.

Nodding, she stirred the spaghetti. Furrowing her brows, she considered the time. “Could we maybe stay over tomorrow night? Then, we can all go to the courthouse.”

“Really? Is Jess okay with that?” he asked.

“Jess won’t hear of anything else, I promise. The Zine just came out. The other guys will understand. We’ll call it a family emergency. And I’m on my spring break. It’s fine, boss,” Ella reassured him, face flushed over the steaming pot.

“Are you sure? I mean, only if you’re sure-”

She sighed again, a long exhale through her nose. “Luke, I’m sure. Just hang in there. We’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll bring you some of this spaghetti, if you want.”

“I think I’ll pass,” he said flatly.

“Noted.”

There was a long pause. “Ella?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

A sad smile ghosted over her face. “Don’t mention it.”

“Hey, it’s the Spring Fling, too. In case you guys need something to do tomorrow night,” Luke added, shifting the conversation away from emotions.

A pang of nostalgia hit her, and she could smell the greasy food. “Oh, well, I was on the fence about coming up there before. But the Spring Fling? There’s the thing to seal the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke grumbled, unamused by her sarcasm.

“Alright. Well, I gotta focus on this spaghetti, for the sake of public safety. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah. Okay, Ella. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Luke.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up the phone, Ella flipped it closed and set it back on the counter. Waiting for the spaghetti to finish boiling, she tried to hum but couldn’t bring herself to. A knot sat in her stomach. She knew how much Luke loved April; she had seen it even through the few months she’d witnessed them together. And she knew how much April loved Luke. She wondered over how the girl would feel, if she were not allowed to see Luke ever again. Not exactly like her own mother’s death, but Ella could certainly sympathize.

She was too deep in thought to hear Jess emerge from the bathroom, hair damp and still dripping slightly.

“Is something burning?” he asked, coming up next to her.

She jumped slightly and then huffed out a breath when he smirked at her surprise. “For just a second, it was. But, now, everything is under control.”

“Whatever you say, Stevens,” he teased, brown eyes twinkling.

Pursing her lips, she finally took her eyes away from the water. “We have to go to Stars Hollow tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” he asked, his brow crinkling.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Luke is trying to get joint custody of April. The hearing is on Tuesday morning and he wants us to testify as references.”

“Huh,” Jess deadpanned, nodding slightly.

“If we get there tomorrow, we can make sure he doesn’t completely melt down during the dinner shift and then ride with him to the courthouse. Is that alright with you? If you can’t come, I could just-”

“Woah, Stevens. I’ll go. Obviously, I’ll go. Not like Matthew can’t babysit Chris all on his own for a couple days. He’s been doing it pretty much his whole life,” Jess said, pressing a kiss of reassurance to her cheek.

“Good. Just...making sure.” She bit at her thumbnail for a moment, nodding. “What if...what if he loses her?”

“I don’t know,” Jess said, shaking his head. “But, at least we can try to help. Here’s hoping it’s not too A Few Good Men.”

“There’s the bright side, Mr. Sunshine,” she said, smiling weakly.

Jess smirked a tiny smirk, then grabbed the wooden spoon as the pot began boiling over, spaghetti spilling onto the glass top, once again.

. . .

Misty March air seeped in through the cracked Station Wagon windows, the afternoon sun warming up the early spring day. Pollen and dust were stagnant in the air, flowers beginning to bloom in the Connecticut countryside. Television, “Marquee Moon,” played on the radio, Jess’s arm draped over Ella’s headrest. Hydrangeas were blooming, blue and purple and pink, on the sides of the road as they crossed over the edge of town into Stars Hollow.

As soon as they passed over the border, Ella’s eyes began to itch, and she started sneezing into the crook of her elbow.

“Jeez, Stevens. Bless you,” Jess said, eyebrows raised. “Are you getting a cold?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, sniffling and blinking the irritated shine from her eyes. “Maybe it’ll make me more sympathetic to the judge.”

“There’s one way to win a case,” he chuckled.

“Hey, who am I to look down on a shortcut?” she said, shrugging lightly as she took the turn down Main Street.

As they reached town center, their eyes widened. Parking was one of the chief worries to pop into Ella’s mind, but not the only one. Hay was stacked up every which way, forming a maze. Stray straws littered the empty spaces, bales piled ten feet high and taking up space on every single street. Hitting the brakes, Ella came to a stop on the edge of the strip, next to the bookstore.

“What the hell is this?” Jess asked, flabbergasted.

Shaking her head, Ella was at a loss for words. Then, it dawned on her, and she groaned in frustration. “I forgot to tell you. Luke said it’s the Spring Fling this week. I guess now that means a hay bale maze?”

“Ugh,” Jess grunted, rolling his eyes. “The last time I was at this thing, Taylor almost called the cops on me because of my Jethro Tull t-shirt.”

She chuckled as she turned around, headed for the small parking lot with the dumpsters behind Luke’s. “Well, only time will tell what this year will bring.” Sneezing again, she sighed.

“Besides hay fever, that is,” Jess added, teasing, tucking a strand of hair which had fallen loose behind her ear again.

“We’re doing this for Luke, we’re doing this for Luke,” she muttered under her breath, feeling a headache already forming behind her eyes.

. . .

She felt transported to the past as they entered Luke’s through the back door, leading into the stock room. It still smelled of tomatoes, dirt, pine; an odd mixture but not unwelcome. The room dark and dank, Ella took Jess’s hand and led him carefully through the random crates and boxes. In his other hand, he held their old duffel, containing both of their only business-appropriate clothes. Apparently, she would be wearing the pencil skirt again much sooner than she had hoped. Jess could already hear Luke ranting before they got to the main room, flashbacks to the consequences of stealing gnomes and baseballs and dry erasers.

Lane passed by the stock room door and caught sight of them out of the corner of her eye. A panic filled her eyes and, immediately, she approached them, a dirty dish bin held in just one hand.

“He’s on the warpath, guys,” she began, retreating into the dim room and glancing over her shoulder anxiously.

“Well, hello to you too, Lane,” Ella smirked.

Lane’s face morphed into a delicate, rushed smile. “Right, sorry, sorry. How’s one of America’s most historical cities?”

Jess shrugged. “Historic.”

“Wow, your vocabulary had really grown since I last saw you,” Lane said, feigning amazement.

A crash sounded, followed by a yell, from out in the main room. The door slammed and Ella couldn’t mistake the sound of a fearful yelp from some customer.

“I think we can continue this love fest later,” Ella suggested, gesturing to the main room.

“Agreed,” Lane said, turning on her heel.

Jess and Ella followed her out of the stock room, finding the counter almost completely empty of customers. The tables were dotted with just a few customers, staring down silently at their plates, faces drawn in fear. Boots trodding heavily on the tiled floor, Luke was making his way back from the door to the kitchen. Caesar was nowhere in sight, and a thin cloud of smoke was billowing through the kitchen window. The front windows were a view of nothing but giant walls of hay. Nothing boded well. Ella glanced at Jess doubtfully, and he only gave a slight shake of his head in response.

“Can I get you guys something?” Lane asked, returning to the space behind the counter.

“No, I think I’d rather not risk it,” Jess said, taking a stool, placing the duffel on the floor next to him.

Ella hopped onto the seat next to him. “Says Mr. I-Live-On-The-Edge.”

“Even I have my limits,” he replied.

“I’m fine, too. Thanks Lane,” Ella told her friend.

A couple steaming plates appeared from the kitchen window, burgers blackened and fries soggy. Lane looked at them suspiciously, but placed them in front of Kirk, who sat on Jess’s other side. Kirk grinned and nodded emphatically.

“The gourmet experiments keep on coming,” he exclaimed, digging in with a fork and knife instead of his hands.

Ella’s brow crinkled. “Kirk, that’s-”

“Don’t,” Lane warned. “It’s...not worth it.”

Perking his head up from his food, Kirk craned his neck to see the two of them. “Oh. You’re back. I’ve missed your pies, Ella. I hope Luke has rhubarb.”

“Kirk, we’re not...moving back here. We’re only gonna be here until tomorrow,” she said, head tilted in confusion.

He narrowed his eyes, then turned to stare closely at Jess, who leaned back against Ella slightly. “You just had to take her to Philadelphia with you.”

Jess was about to respond, before Ella jumped in again, tone vehement.

“Excuse me, Kirk, but I moved to Philadelphia on my own to go to grad school. Jess just happened to be there.”

“The hand of fate, huh?” Kirk asked, unphased. “What a beautiful thing.”

Jess snickered, eyeing Ella to gauge a response. Instead of retaliating, her jaw tensed and she turned her head to the kitchen window.

“Luke, we’re here!”

Raising his eyebrows, Luke reappeared from the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up messily, his shirt splashed with grease. He didn’t look as though he’d been careful in the kitchen. A black baseball cap sat backwards on his head, the one he’d been wearing since he and Lorelai broke off their engagement. But Ella had heard, through her weekly phone calls with Lane, Lorelai and Christopher had divorced, breaking up once again. The constant romantic whiplash was beginning to make Ella dizzy.

“Oh. Hey, guys. How was the drive?” Luke asked.

“Well, I don’t know about Eleanor, but that huge ball of twine gets more interesting every time I pass it,” Jess deadpanned, arms crossed over his t-shirt, elbows on the counter.

Ella smiled thinly. “Jess is thrilled about the Spring Fling, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah, I might’ve guessed. I mean, who could forget that Jethro Tull incident?” Luke replied.

She was about to respond, but instead Ella buried her nose in her sleeve again and sneezed.

“Bless you,” Jess said.

She sneezed again.

“Bless you,” he repeated, smirking.

A moment more, and she sneezed a third time.

“And one more for good measure,” Jess continued, increasingly smug. “Bless you.”

Luke furrowed his brows at Ella. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“The hay doesn’t agree with Rudolph,” Jess chimed in, smoothing a hand over Ella’s back.

Blinking the wateriness from her eyes again, she shot Jess a look. “Bite me.”

“Just like old times,” Luke grumbled, going over to the register when two meek customers came up to pay.

Catching her breath, Ella got down from the stool again. “I’m gonna go to Doose’s. Try to get something to handle this new reindeer look I’ve got going for me.”

“You want me to go with you?” Jess asked, almost hopefully.

“As much as I would love that, cutie, I think your existence would probably be a catalyst for Taylor’s flashbacks. I’ll be back in like ten minutes. I think you’ll survive.”

“That’s debatable,” he said.

She turned away and sneezed into her elbow yet again, growling under her breath in annoyance.

“Debatable for me and you both,” he added, smirking once more.

Flipping him off, she made her way to the front door, preparing to brave the wall of hay which was about to meet her eye-to-eye.

. . .

“Don’t touch!” Ella exclaimed, exchanging a flathead screwdriver for a phillip’s head on the counter next to her.

“Do you see me touching anything?” Jess shot back, rounding the counter to make his way to the dish pit.

She snorted a bitter laugh. “You were getting too close. I think you just coming in this register’s dance space would be enough to break it more.”

“If you make one more Dirty Dancing reference-”

“Need I remind you of the shower head?” she continued, ignoring his complaints.

He sighed heavily.

“Oh, please, remind him of the shower head,” Luke piped up from where he was wiping off the red tables.

“In January, the shower was leaking,” Ella began, straightening up from her spot tinkering with the cash register drawer.

“C’mon, Elle,” Jess moaned from the dish pit.

“Jess, both Luke and I are privy to the swan attack. This is far less humiliating, I promise.”

“Fine,” he said, turning the boiling hot tap back on. Only a few more mugs and he would finally be finished. He was careful to avoid any stray kitchen knives.

“The shower was leaking. I had class, but I said I would fix it when I got home. Because, somehow, Chris, Matthew, and Jess are all completely devoid of home improvement skills,” Ella said. “Jess tried, which was so sweet of him. But then the entire shower head and the faucet ended up coming off the wall. It took me four hours to get them back on.”

“Hence the register dance space,” Luke replied, biting back laughter.

“Exactly.”

“Hey, I fixed that toaster out there!” Jess shouted over the sound of the water.

“And it only took you six years to admit it,” Ella said.

“Shut up,” Jess retorted.

“There’s the charm,” she mocked. She pushed the small gold button, and the register drawer popped out silently. A bright smile crossed her face. “This might be the first time this hasn’t sounded like Janet Leigh since I started working here.”

She wondered in the back of her mind why Luke hadn’t fixed the cash register sooner. It was antique; maybe he thought a screeching drawer just came with the territory. Or, maybe it was because nearly every single repair he had done in the past few years was on either the Gilmore house or the Dragonfly Inn.

“I told you guys you didn’t have to work,” Luke said, rolling his eyes guiltily. He began flipping the chairs up onto the tables, stuffing his damp rag into his apron.

“For the last time, we wanted to!” Jess called from the back, wiping his hands on a stained dish towel as he finished up with the mugs.

“Well, you’ve done enough. I can finish closing. Go see the Spring Fling.” Luke came over and took the screwdrivers from Ella’s hand, putting them back in his toolbox and shutting it with a snap! before she could protest.

“Oh, yes, it’s bound to get wild out there in the hay bale maze,” Ella quipped, going to grab her coat from the rack with Jess following behind.

“You’re tellin’ me. Just go see it. Taylor certainly spent enough on it.” Luke went back to the tables, upturning the chairs rhythmically, as he had for so many nights and so many years, wearing the same thing.

“We’ll be back before midnight,” Ella said, shrugging on her leather jacket and tugging her long hair, half-up, half-down, out from beneath the collar.

“And, now that we’re grown up, we can go get involved with as many ritual cults as we want while we’re out,” Jess added, grabbing Ella’s hand.

“Don’t mention that in the deposition tomorrow,” Luke warned.

“It’s good you said something. Otherwise, I definitely would have mentioned it,” Jess shot back smugly.

As they emerged into the evening, the stars were just beginning to appear, Luke having closed up early at around eight o’clock. Ella looked around, trying to see any other way into the maze besides the opening just in front of Luke’s. She’d thought about popping into her old house, surprising Fiona and Adam after school. But, she’d gotten busy with the dinner shift and could see no physical way to get there in the dim light of the twinkly strings somewhere beyond the maze.

“How the hell do they pay for stuff like this?” Jess asked as they began strolling through the maze.

“Beats me,” Ella replied, shaking her head. “This place makes no economic sense. I stopped guessing a long time ago, my friend.”

He hummed, eyes roaming over the seemingly endless yellow straw. “Tax fraud, you think?”

“I wouldn’t put it past Taylor,” Ella said, smirking.

“Oh, now how could you accuse a sweet old man like that of such a crime?” he asked, feigning shock.

She shrugged, grinning. “Since he conveniently ‘lost’ the money for the bridge renovations and we had to start the whole fundraiser over again.”

“Y’know I was the one who took that money, right?” Jess asked, thinking back to his first two weeks in Stars Hollow.

“No, I meant the first time. I was like eleven,” she explained, feeling a pleasant night time breeze ghost through her hair.

“What?” Jess chirped. “It happened before?”

“Yeah, and Taylor kept saying someone stole it. But I had a sneaking suspicion it was an inside job.”

Breathing deeply, she could smell nothing but the hay. It seemed odd, considering the Spring Fling usually had booths with caramel apples and popcorn and all other sorts of junk. But, she was also just glad she could breathe through her nose again with the help of the allergy medicine she’d picked up at Doose’s, though her eyes were still a bit itchy.

“How very Watergate.”

“I’m telling you,” Ella insisted, only half-joking, “Taylor could be an evil genius for all we know.”

“It would explain a lot,” Jess agreed, nodding. They’d taken many turns, and he figured they must be nearing the end. The carnival in town square was what he remembered as the main event.

“Yes, all the sweater vests would be perfect for establishing a mild-mannered cover,” she continued, speaking with her free hand.

“Well, with that logic, Chris is also an evil mastermind,” Jess pointed out.

Ella pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “I think Chris is probably more of a Jekyll and Hyde situation.”

“I just love how much faith you have in humanity,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair.

She laughed, and was about to retort, when they turned a corner and she almost ran straight into Lorelai. Her stomach did a quick flip, and her hand tightened slightly on Jess’s. But then, her old instincts kicked in, and she plastered a small, polite smile on her lips. On Lorelai’s right side, Rory stood hand-in-hand with some blonde guy.

“Oh, hey!” Lorelai greeted them brightly, looking between them. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Only for today and tomorrow. Just taking care of some stuff, y’know?” Ella said, unsure of whether Lorelai would be aware of the custody battle. Then, she turned to Rory. “What about you guys?”

“Visiting. We just had to come down for the Spring Fling,” Rory explained. She turned to the man at her side, gesturing between him and the two of them. “This is my boyfriend, Logan.”

“Oh, hi,” Ella said, shaking Logan’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure,” he grinned slyly, one dimple on his left cheek. “Strong handshake.”

“That’s what I’m famous for,” she replied. “I’m Ella.” Tilting her head to Jess, she broke hands with Logan. “And that’s Jess.”

“Hey,” Jess said shortly, also shaking Logan’s hand.

Logan’s smile didn’t even falter in the wake of Jess’s tight demeanor. “Nice to meet you, Jess.”

“So, how about this hay bale maze? Gives you Labyrinth vibes, doesn’t it?” Lorelai asked, smiling warmly.

“Yeah. All that’s missing is Bowie,” Ella agreed, nodding.

Intertwining their fingers again, Jess leaned into Ella’s side slightly against the chilly spring breeze.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing him in that costume,” Lorelai continued.

“Agreed,” Rory chimed in.

It occurred to Ella how long it had been since they had seen each other. Rory’s hair was longer and straighter, with side bangs and a redder tone. And her clothes seemed different, as well. Kate Spade and Coach and other brands Ella couldn’t have named. As far as first impressions went, she couldn’t quite figure out Logan. His smirk seemed constant, but not genuine like Jess’s. It wasn’t endearing, as though he were about to laugh at a private joke. Instead, it was almost smarmy. She wondered in the back of her mind what he was trying to sell her. Seeing Lorelai, though, was welcome. Images of movie nights and sleepovers and quiet afternoons reading flashed across her memory. Ella could recognize Lorelai just fine in the memories; Rory was not as easy.

“Not sure it’s worth it for how long we’ve been wandering around, though,” Lorelai added. Ella could see new, blonde-ish highlights in her hair. A pang of guilt hit her; with as much Lorelai had done for her, she should’ve checked in more. Even if she and Luke were still, inexplicably, on the outs.

Jess furrowed his brows. “What? I thought we were near the end.”

“Far from it,” Rory said.

“What about the caramel apple stand and stuff?” Ella asked.

“The budget wouldn’t allow it. Not after Taylor bought all the hay in Connecticut,” Lorelai said, gesturing to the maze around them. “This is it.”

Ella scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ll say it again. Evil mastermind.”

“What?” Logan asked, laughing.

Before she could answer, Ella’s nose began to tickle and she caught another sneeze in the crook of her elbow.

“Gesundheit!” Lorelai exclaimed.

“Well,” Jess began, looking between Ella and the other three, “we should probably start making our way to the other side. Seems like sneezy’s allergy medicine is wearing off.”

“Anyone who starts naming the other six dwarves will be in grave danger,” Ella warned, sniffling and blinking harshly.

They bid each other goodbye and were about to part ways when Rory suddenly spun around and called Ella’s name.

“Yeah?” Ella asked.

“Do you wanna maybe...go to lunch at Weston’s tomorrow? If you’re still gonna be in town,” Rory offered, her voice soft and hopeful. Her blue eyes were large in the moonlight.

Ella blew out a breath, considering it for only a moment. “Sure. Meet you at noon, alright?”

Rory nodded, and was soon whisked away again by Lorelai and Logan. They turned a corner and were masked by the hay.

. . .

She had never been to the Hartford courthouse, and it shocked her how much the place smelled like a dentist’s office. Chilly and plasticy and devoid of all human feeling. Painted in white with mahogany accents and bright lights, the building had supposedly been standing since before the Salem witch trials. Or so the plaque on the front of the red brick structure read. The minute hand on her watch ticked on silently, as nine o’clock rolled around. Ella had tried sketching, but couldn’t keep her focus on the portrait of her grandmother surrounded by sunflowers. Jess was halfway through a worn Bukowski volume, scribbling penciled notes in the margins, despite the faded writing already there. Ella’s head rested gently on his shoulder, dozing. Neither of them had slept especially well, nervous over the deposition. And neither of them were willing to take Luke’s bed again, and had squeezed onto the old brown couch. They considered the old twin bed, but decided falling off wasn’t worth it.

Ella was nearly asleep, her sketchbook shut and stuffed into her purse next to her, when she felt Jess shifting beneath her. His form tightened, and his breathing had become labored. Immediately, Ella’s eyes shot open, as she recognized the noise. She turned to find the novel shaking in his hands, his eyes wide and watery as his breathing began to pick up.

“Whoa, Jess, hey,” she began calmly, taking the book from his hands and placing it absently on the bench behind her. She faced him fully and reached out, but then hesitated. “Can I touch you?”

He swallowed dryly, trying to fight the tears blurring his vision. One second, he had been underlining a sentence; the next, his entire being became rigid and his heart was pounding. Not long after, he felt his throat tightening. Harsh shivers rolled through his body. He simply couldn’t control his erratic breathing.

Then, his eyes flitted to her face, the crease between her brows, and he nodded slightly.

“Okay,” she replied. Grabbing his wrist with a gentle hand, she brought his palm to her chest, the fabric of her blouse soft beneath his fingers. “Just breathe with me, cutie. Everything will be fine.”

“Pretty optimistic, Stevens,” he grumbled breathlessly, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Desperate times, Mariano. C’mon, just breathe with me,” she said softly, breathing in a long breath through her nose, exhaling out her mouth.

Beneath his hand, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. Though he felt a little silly, he focused on the earnestness in her face. A few pedestrians passed by them, tossing uncertain glances their way, but Ella paid them absolutely no mind. She only focused on Jess. His cheeks were flushed as he ran his free hand over his mouth, nodding at her again as he finally began to mimic her breaths. Air hitching in his throat, he had to try more than a few times to steady himself.

“Good job, James Dean,” she smiled, watching him eventually begin to relax. His cheeks were glistening in the fluorescent light, and she wiped them dry with her thumb. “You okay? I can find you some water.”

“I’m pretty sure all they have here is burnt coffee,” he said, voice still uneven. The stench of stale coffee permeating the air in the whole building only added to the dentist office vibe.

She gave a breathy chuckle. “Hey, anything’s possible. My powers of persuasion are pretty strong.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, averting his eyes from her. His cheeks burned hotly.

“Hey,” she said, tone serious once again, as she placed a hand on the back of his neck, “are you sure? If you can’t do the deposition, you can just write something down. I’m sure I could just go in.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, eyes widening emphatically. “Don’t worry, Daria.”

“Impossible,” Ella said, dropping her hand from his neck and intertwining their fingers instead.

Jess cleared his throat. She saw his eyes flicker nervously over to the door of the room Luke had disappeared into over an hour earlier. Jess almost raised a hand to run through his hair, but then stopped as he remembered they were supposed to look professional in front of the lawyers. He felt fidgety and anxious.

“You’ll do fine, cutie,” she told him.

He faced her again, trying to force a confident smirk on his face. But he couldn’t bring himself to. “I know, just...like you said. What if he loses her? Or if-”

“‘You’ll never get anywhere if you go about what-iffing like that,’” she interjected.

He stared at her curiously for a moment before he ventured a guess. “Chuck Palahniuk?”

“Roald Dahl,” she answered.

“Huh,” he chirped indifferently.

Her eyes lingered on his distracted expression, watching his gaze be drawn again to the door to the deposition. He pursed his lips, a wistful, guarded look.

“Jess,” she started warily, her voice a sigh, “did you ever think about seeing someone? I mean, is this only the second time-”

“Can we please not talk about this, Doctor Laura?” he snapped quietly. Not unkindly, simply impatient. Ella hadn’t previously realized just how nervous he was for the deposition, considering how neutrally he’d reacted when she’d first told him about it.

She sighed again through her nose, jaw tensing. But she reminded herself where they were, and who they were. She told herself not to push too hard, not to worry about him getting scared and running off again. But still, a familiar fear threatened to rise in her throat. She swallowed thickly, then gave a slow nod. She pressed a quick kiss to the back of his hand and disentangled their fingers.

“Okay, James Dean,” she said flatly, handing him back his book. “To be continued.”

“Thank you,” he replied, flashing her a weak, half-hearted smile.

She tried to quiet the uneasiness whispering in her mind.

. . .

Weston’s looked much the same. The outdoor tables were adorned with vases of gerber daisies, fluttering in the light breeze. Bright sunlight warmed up the afternoon. Rory came back to the table with a tall coffee in one hand and a tea in the other. A tin of pound cake sat in between them on the frilly lace tablecloth, two forks beside it. Back in her plain purple dress and leather jacket, Ella felt more comfortable. And the judge had, thankfully, ruled in favor of Luke. Ella’s heart was alight with joy at just the thought of the verdict.

But an odd sense of deja-vu filled her. After Saturdays swimming in the Stars Hollow Community Pool, she and her father would come to the bakery, sunburnt and exhausted. She would get an apple tart and he would get a slice of chocolate satin pie. Just the two of them while her mother and brothers were at home playing board games. It had been their place, a father and a daughter, before everything fell apart. Her mind wandered to Jake for only a moment, wondering where he was and what he was doing. She wondered if he ever remembered their post-pool bakery visits, sitting outside with towels wrapped around them, damp bathing suits sticking to their bodies.

But then Taylor rode by, in the front seat on a bus of tourists, blasting his words through a megaphone. She snapped out of it. Offering a grateful smile to Rory, she took a sip of her tea. “Really, Rory, you didn’t have to get my tea.”

Rory waved a dismissive hand as she sat down. “It’s fine, Ella. Consider it making up for those last few birthdays when I wasn’t there to force presents on you.”

Ella smirked through a chuckle. “Okay. Thank you.”

“So,” Rory began, leaning in, conspiratory. “Tell me everything.”

“Well,” Ella said, shrugging and glancing over to her left. She forgot that her vision of the lush green square would be obscured by the wall of dry yellow hay. Having dosed up again on allergy medicine, she was glad to soon be leaving. She snickered under her breath, then turned back to Rory. She had a small smile on her pink lips. For a moment, Ella saw her as she had when they were teenagers. Bookish and shy, similar to Jess in a lot of ways. “I’m pretty busy with grad school. My students are all so fucking smart though, so it’s honestly not all that hard getting things to stick with them.”

“Yeah, Lane told me you graduated early,” Rory nodded along, almost jealous.

“Just took a bunch of summer classes and stuff. Luke gave me so much time to study. I wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise,” Ella shrugged, spinning the tea mug around as she spoke.

“And how’s living with Jess? Above the publishing company, right? Is it Truncheon? I can’t remember. It seems like so long since Luke told me about it,” Rory said, giggling through her words.

Ella’s smile widened. “Yeah, Truncheon. They sell books and local art. Even some of mine, actually. But we live with Chris and Matthew, Jess’s partners, above the store. They’re...interesting. Matthew can do these crazy, Good Will Hunting math problems in his head. And Chris has, like, forty Red Bulls worth of energy everyday, but he hardly ever drinks caffeine. He just has a natural, endless supply. Kinda reminds me of your mom.”

“Sounds eventful,” Rory chimed in.

“That it is. But...it’s really fun. The city...it’s so lively. Everyday I walk outside and it’s a whole new place,” Ella said, blushing slightly at the sentimental words as she spoke them. But it was true. Returning to Stars Hollow always reminded her how much she enjoyed Philly. “But, what about you? Let’s hear about this Logan character.”

“Oh,” Rory began, looking down at her drink. “He’s good. We’re good. He’s really smart and we have a lot in common. And he’s really well-traveled. We’re great. He’s great.”

Eyes widening marginally, suspiciously, Ella nodded at Rory’s babbling. “So, you’re great, I hear. Alright. He makes you happy?”

“He does,” Rory answered, taking a sip of her coffee. Then, after a moment of pause: “It’s just…”

“What’s up, Ror?” Ella asked softly, furrowing her brows. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Rory finally met her eyes again. “It’s just...I got offered this job at a newspaper in Rhode Island. And it’s solid and steady. My mom thinks I should take it.”

“That’s awesome, Rory! You’re gonna be at the Washington Post before we know it!” Ella exclaimed.

Rory offered her a weak smile. “Yeah, but, I also applied for this big scholarship. Only like five people get it every year. But it could be huge, and Logan thinks I could go for it. But, he also just lost about a million dollars and quit his job at his father’s company.”

“Hm,” Ella hummed, trying to keep her face expressionless as Rory continued. They were nowhere near close enough anymore for Ella to criticize her boyfriend.

“And then, the other day, I found this ring...”

“Oh, fuck,” Ella said, leaning back in her chair.

“Yeah,” Rory sighed. “And I have no idea what to do. I don’t know when he’s gonna ask me, if he’s gonna ask me, if he’s gonna want to follow me to Rhode Island, and...I mean, do you wanna spend the rest of your life with Jess?”

Taken aback by the question, Ella bit the inside of her cheek and paused. “Um...I...I hardly believed in love before I met Jess. Sometimes change doesn’t happen all at once. But...I mean...I would always rather be with him than not with him. If that means I want to spend the rest of my life with him…then, yeah. I do.”

Rory tucked her hair behind both her ears, shrugging. “I guess it’s not the same type of thing. I mean, you’ve been the Catherine to his Heathcliff forever.”

“Nothing’s perfect, though, Ror,” Ella said. She thought back to a few hours earlier in the courthouse, Jess’s stony expression. She could practically see the scowl he was sporting back the diner, where she’d find him after Weston’s to drive back home. “I mean, marrying someone doesn’t solve everything. Living together doesn’t solve everything. Jess and I argue. We fight.”

“Yeah, I think we all remember what it was like when you two worked at the diner together,” Rory scoffed nostalgically.

Ella snorted a laugh. “Believe me, I know. Jess and I don’t love each other because it’s easy. We don’t communicate the best sometimes. He’s not the chattiest, if you remember. And I’m not the most flexible. He turns the heat up in the apartment way too high. And, sometimes, I swear he’s got the worst taste. But we promised each other a long time ago we would always try for each other. That’s all it is. We try for each other.”

“You sound like a Nicholas Sparks novel,” Rory said, giggling once more.

“I do not!” Ella exclaimed, a blush creeping further up her skin.

“Oh, really?” Rory asked doubtfully. “Tell me what you love about him, then. Tell me the little details about the man who melted the icy Ella Stevens.”

Ella snorted again, shaking her head. “It wasn’t some sexist Taming of the Shrew situation. He’s just...he’s my best friend. That’s it.”

“Come on, you have to get back to Philly soon, don’t you? Humor me for the sake of this advice session,” Rory continued.

Rolling her eyes and groaning dramatically, Ella shifted in her seat and sighed. “Fine. For old time’s sake, Rory. He...he’s such a good writer. He writes like nothing I’ve ever read before. It’s thoughtful and deep and...I don’t know. He does that thing where he bites his lip when he’s nervous. And he’s probably the biggest romantic I’ve ever met. I used to think it was absurd, but now it’s just cute. He rubs circles on my back sometimes, for no reason. He just…always likes to be touching. And, as much as that man loves words, it’s the actions. He doesn’t need to say something for me to know...I guess. He’ll show me instead. Does that make sense?”

After a moment of gaping, Rory burst out in laughter. “I knew it was serious. I didn’t know it was a Tennyson poem.”

“Alright, alright, enough,” Ella grumbled in embarrassment. “The point is: do you want to be with Logan for the rest of your life?”

Rory’s face fell slightly, and she could only manage a non-committal shrug.

As the breeze blew past them again, and Ella watched Rory’s expression falter, she felt her stomach fill with nerves. She hadn’t realized it before, quite how committed she was. When she imagined her life, Jess was always there. It wasn’t even a question. She didn’t know exactly when she’d decided he would be a permanent fixture, if he wanted. But apparently she had. And no matter how frustrated she was with his refusal to talk about his panic attacks, or the anxiety which had been following him for, perhaps, years, it didn’t matter. It had been a tough trip for him. She just wanted to get back to him, to make sure he was alright. To see if he was feeling better.

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frogsandfries · 4 years ago

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Back on the tarot bent

I mean, a little bit. I realized I don't have a good version of the Fool to use for covering the chapter. I'm not really sure what to use for anything resembling a full-fledged book cover, besides the folder design, which has some flexibility at least for this first book--you could delineate some sort of division and progression of the narrative with different cards taking the place of the school crest on the cover.

So a few days ago, I updated the linework for the Fool for a three-times pixels update--taking pretty heavy inspiration from when I still wanted to cross-stitch them and I was creating the patterns in basically quarter stitches. I found that at what would be nine pixels to a stitch, I got pretty satisfactory definition from the pixel look, with enough space to work up a frame quickly, and remind me what kind of scale I'm working on, without being too much space that it was overwhelming. I can still get quite a lot out of the pixel dimensions that I have--shading, highlights, sufficient facial detail, and such.

Since I want a really good, but also cohesive, art of my Fool to go on my zines, I thought I would update my Fool--and hell, while I was at it, I would also convert my Magician.

Today, I spent most of my afternoon, around making s'more banana ice cream and brownies, just working on the sky of my Fool. It's honestly the best yet. The hardest part was trying out a ton of different colors and color combinations to get that pale horizon and the saturated bit at the zenith.

In the evening though, I was pretty worn out on pixel punching, so, since I lost my original linework for the Magician, I thought I would recreate that. I finished it and tried to just dump it in my pixel program, but like the Fool's leggings, it was pretty incoherent, so I think tomorrow, I'm going to need to figure out a sufficient grid to help me convert the leggings manually, and then I'll have to work on the Magician. Luckily, on the one hand, Incompetech is always there for all my grid and graph needs; on the other hand, I wonder if I might not need to trace my Magician into one of my sketchbooks. Not really positive how I might pull that off; we still don't have a printer.

On the one hand, when I start doing whatever to make some money, I want to buy a printer like immediately--and my paper and a paper cutter--even though I know we need to save for a vehicle. We're going to get the absolute maximum usage for certain out of a decent new car, so that's what I would like to work on. Even though I'm baaaaaaarrreeelllllllllllyyyyyy two-thirds of the way to where I want to be with the graphic novel--just speaking in terms of raw, fully colored frames, not even in terms of cleaning those frames and building my page layouts and everything else--I'm still eager to get a printer.

There's so much to do with this thing. For the short term, I need to finish replacement lettering. Organizing my digital files is a perpetually ongoing task which is more important than I like to give it credit for being 🙄 . Gotta store and organize the lineworks so I can find and access them easily, without having to hunt for them--especially because there is no reason for that--and then I like to keep my colorworks separate. That also helps make it easier to find my files later.

I'll tell you what else makes it easier to organize in the first place: Having figured out an organization system. When you have a bunch of lineworks and colored frames and other ends and bits that you realize you need to organize, but it's not yet organized, it sure is a pain to get it organized in the first place. Staying on top of it all when the initial not is done really is worth it. And it's not like I'm really able to churn out gigantic chunks of lineworks and then I'm just sitting with my twenty lineworks that now I have to organize.

It's actually exciting to be able to thumb through the fully colored frames in their folder.

Anyway.

Doing the Priestess is going to be................... interesting?? Now that I've finally figured out which character from the novel to use, I'm in the research stage. For this deck, the symbolism of the original cards--I'm mostly referring to Marseille and Rider-Waite, but I'm also looking at other, modern decks. Later-ish, I want to do a more original, modern deck that focuses more on the meaning of the cards, so the story the cards tell, and am original understanding/interpretation of that. That's going to be an interesting feat.

I am obsessed with the cards that show the Priestess covered from her hair to her wrists and ankles. I don't know why, but I love it--it kinda makes her mysterious and kind of anonymous. If I follow the theme of using the characters' speech bubble colors, since the Priestess is Kitty's grandma, the arch is going to be yellow, but I think I'll have to see the design fully colored to fully settle on a color for the number bubble. If I dress the Priestess in a saturated or jewel-tone kind of blue, I'll probably need to use a color that balances against that.

I chose the color for the number bubble for the Magician kind of randomly; my Magician has kind of a dark note to him. Maybe I could make another character's speech bubbles darker blue...?? But then........ if the Fool and the Priestess are connected like that..... what color should the Priestess number bubble be........ green?

I chose yellow for the Fool's number because the number bubble was cleverly the sun. I coincidentally chose yellow for grandma's speech because grandma is supposed to be kind of calm and uplifting......... So the number bubbles are supposed to be random in that they complement the overall color palette of the card.

That was helpful. So basically I still don't know what color the Priestess's number is going to be. I just know that the arch will be yellow and the Priestess will most likely wear a lot of blue. I should look into what other like priests and shaman wear and have worn around the world--particularly in ancient Greece and maybe Egypt. I'm kind of obsessed with the traditional Priestess designs wearing a blue over-garment. The madonna is usually depicted wearing a blue, like a veil/cloak situation. Blue was considered a royal color, and for the madonna, it suggests her purity. For a Roman or Greek priestess or seer, depending, purity can be spiritually significant, and being sullied was believed to impact their connection to their powers and gods.

Obviously, Kitty's grandma isn't pure like that, given that she has a child who has children and is married to a spouse. But there is this mythology of moving beyond sex when you move beyond your reproductive and child-rearing years.

It'll be interesting to get down to designing.... I like kinda sticking to a kind of thoughtful hodgepodge of the traditional designs, but then again--on the one hand, I believe the death of the author is for other people. I really struggle with it.

Doing an original deck, throwing out the arches and numbers and just thinking of the cards narratively--what is the story behind, say, the Fool--thinking of them as a poster or a single page illustration, should be a valuable exercise.

I'm sure compiling as much information as is available for each card and using this information to create a whole new, unique story and visual exploration could be quite a valuable exercise. I could be one of the very very few (and foolish??) to complete two unique decks. It would be tricky to throw out the existing designs and come up with something that maybe feels a little...... defiant? Oppositional? It would also be tough, after working with these characters for so long, to come up with a whole entire, completely new and random set of characters. A whole tarot-based narrative........

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arecomicsevengood · 5 years ago

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COMICS BLOGGING OF A RAMBLING AND DIGRESSIVE SORT

I am embarrassed to admit it, but I do believe I buy things as a way of coping with my own uselessness. I’d like to attribute a universality to this character flaw, and claim everyone spends money on things they don’t need to fill some sort of existential void at the center of their being. My habits are relatively healthy, some people get shitfaced in response to the stimuli that makes me simply want meat, cheese, and carbohydrates. I have at various times read books at a pace comparable to eating, where everything got finished to make way for something else, but just because “reading books” is viewed as something good for your brain doesn’t make the act of buying them feel any less like a bit of brainless consumerism, especially when one is broke, and a global depression looms. Still, considering my worries that the postal service and retail outlets might go away if we do not support them and this will make life even more unbearable I convinced myself now was not the time to be a spendthrift.

All this is to explain why I bought a handful of comics I wasn’t sure I even expected to be good. Namely, I bought a bunch of issues of Alan Moore’s Tom Strong that I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d read before. I intended to parcel them out and savor them, but when I buy snacks at the grocery store, they get eaten faster than the vegetables. I bought these, along with some other single issue comics, from wowcool.com. From Powell’s, I preordered the first volume of Taiyo Matsumoto’s Ping Pong, which should arrive in a few weeks. I also ordered a few new releases direct from Fantagraphics.

Most notable among these is the Olivier Schrauwen/Ruppert And Mulot collaboration Portrait Of A Drunk. I’m on record as liking all the artists involved, and this one demonstrates why pretty clearly: While Olivier Schrauwen specializes in comedy about dumb guys, itself a form close to my heart, Ruppert And Mulot are darker and meaner, so here the dumb guy is an indifferent murderer. Being set in a pirate milieu allows for pretty amazing sequences of action and hallucination to flourish, their skills at color and composition tie it all together. Highly recommended. The back of the book announces Fantagraphics will be publishing the Ruppert And Mulot books made in collaboration with Bastien Vives starting next year. Hopefully I will end up reading comics by people other than my known favorites this year, but during a period of belt-tightening, there’s no guarantee even one’s favorites will live up to the increasingly-burdensome expectations put upon them.

Still, those Tom Strong comics outperformed my expectations. I believe I discussed how much I like Chris Sprouse’s work when I wrote about Alan Moore’s Supreme run, but let me reiterate: There’s a handful of comics Sprouse drew in the early nineties (A Batman annual with a Two-Face story written by Andy Helfer, an eighty-page Justice League Quarterly story, the first few issues of Legionnaires) which are emblematic of a certain DC Comics skillset I really value: This George Perez style ability to draw a lot of characters, rendered with this Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez spareness, this Kevin Maguire sense of facial expressions, a certain openness to the faces which is youthful and attractive and optimistic. There’s something similar to Graham Nolan’s art too: I don’t know how much other people like this stuff, it’s not really “cool” or gnarly looking, but there’s an unobtrusive cleanliness I associate with the DC “vibe” of this era, which I find vastly more appealing than the sort of post-Image-studios runoff that was their standard look more recently. As much as I love a good stylist, his is a good house style variant. Considering that, it rules that Tom Strong is what Chris Sprouse is known for. Those early nineties comics all have a lot of panels per page, but Moore, working in a post-Image mode, lets him breathe and do action sequences. He’s not an explosive artist, his drawing has this sort of style-guide quality to it, that feels perfect for the sort of “platonic ideal of a mainstream genre comic” tone that their collaborations aim for.

Reading these comics, I realized a few things: One, I hadn’t actually read them before. Two, they’re twenty years old. The years have been kind to them, in that I spent them aging, and while I was really into Top Ten and Promethea as a teenager, I still suspect that if Tom Strong is your favorite Alan Moore comic you are probably a dad. There’s a heavily nostalgic quality to all the genre pastiche going on, and its anchored by this character who is pretty upstanding, possessing this sort of all-seeing but benevolent competence aspect, and the storytelling affirms his liberal values. Peaceful coexistence is treated as preferable to violent conflict. It’s the work where Moore’e desire to issue a corrective to what he sees as a negative influence he had is most evident, it genuinely seems to be trying to be morally instructive to a young audience. I don’t think any of these things are bad, but it’s pretty easy to see how, reading the issues as they came out, many of them would register as somewhat bland. I seem to recall comic book writers at this time like Warren Ellis, Grant Morrison, and Mark Millar all deriding what they called “dad comics,” not necessarily talking about Tom Strong, as a way of hyping up their own efforts, many of which I followed more avidly at the time but do not expect would hold up nearly as well. (There’s an issue that’s a homage to old Captain Marvel Family comics, featuring a few pages of Kyle Baker art, I particularly enjoyed.)

After being reminded that Moore is a great writer, and never forgetting for a second we live in dark times, it felt appropriate to read From Hell again. I texted a friend and found he had started rereading it at the same time. I don’t consider it Moore’s masterpiece the way that contrarians that don’t want to give the nod to Watchmen do. While the darkness feels organic to the subject matter in a way it often doesn’t in Moore’s eighties superhero work, I do feel the whole “Jack The Ripper gives birth to the twentieth century” thing is a bit of a reach. I believe I will end up reading some of Eddie Campbell’s solo comics before quarantine is over, I am impressed by how organic the pacing feels, how natural it progresses while largely avoiding calling attention to Moore as a writer. The skill set that enables Moore to do a densely researched historical conspiracy thing is evident when he does a genre serial. Many of the elements in Tom Strong do not feel like they are imagined from whole cloth so much as they feel appropriated from various sources and then connected into this larger whole. The “peaceful coexistence” remit of Tom Strong allows for a structure where stories that seems tossed-off come back into play as plot elements. You rarely receive this kind of payoff from extended serials, but it’s built into the structure of screenwriting, and it is satisfying to retroactively realize like you weren’t having your time wasted when you thought you were.

I also ordered from Wowcool the Dunja Jankovic comics Sparkplug put out circa ten years ago. They’re very cool, reminiscent of Anke Feuchtenberger and Gary Panter, slowly shifting their sense of texture over multiple pages, so that while I don’t think I realized at the time these comics were released that they’re very well-drawn, it is obvious when you actually read them. I anxiously await her “Richter’s Game” minicomic being translated into English, though obviously this is going to be a tough year for self-publishers selling zines with widespread show cancellations. My hope is that Fantagraphics’ Now anthology will just start running work by people like Dunja, Alyssa Berg, Nick Norman, and Beatrix Urkowitz, but maybe there are good reasons for that not to occur. Maybe anthology pages can’t compete with the profits one stands to gain from self-publishing, or maybe my own idea of what I consider my broad-minded and catholic tastes would not actually appeal to large sections of the indie comics market, the same way my idea of what I consider “good” in mainstream comics is actually far too nostalgic a model for the aesthetic preferences of the market as it currently stands. I offer these recommendations solely as another way of coping with my powerlessness.

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emeraldwaves · 5 years ago

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Title: When I Think About You Pairing: Kacchako Rating: E (NSFW) Word Count: 2,160 Read on Ao3 Summary:

Sometimes, Uraraka just can't wait for Bakugou to get home.

This was written for the @supernova-zine !! I had so much fun working on this project and helping it come together! Thank you to everyone who supported us!!! Fic under the cut since it’s NSFW!

Her hand ghosts over her clit and she pulls in a sharp breath, her breast rising and falling.

Would it be terrible of her to touch; so needy she can't even wait for her boyfriend to arrive home? Katsuki probably won't be much longer; it's getting close to dinner time.

She could wait for him; feel so incredibly filled by his cock while his lips attack her skin.

Or...

She lowers her middle finger, pressing down on her clit with a shudder. She sighs, letting the pillow cradle her head. She cups under her own tit with her other hand, bringing her fingers up to her nipple and brushing her thumb over it.

"Mmm..." she moans unabashedly. No one is home. No one is there to hear her. She can imagine Katsuki will be annoyed she started without him, but that's his punishment for being slow.

She rubs herself faster, her finger stroking up and down her hardened nub. She hisses, spreading her legs, her hips jerking towards her lithe fingers. Over the years she's grown very adept at bringing herself to orgasm. She knows all the little spots that make her legs twitch and her insides clench.

By now, Katsuki knows practically everything about her as well. Most of the time he's even better than she is at it. The speed at which he gets her to cum sometimes is incredible. The last thing she wants to do is admit to it though; Bakugou Katsuki does not need a bigger ego.

"A-Ah!" She tugs on her nipple and gasps, her brown eyes staring at the ceiling.

It's been awhile since she's done this by herself, and she pauses in her pleasurable haze to remind herself to thank Mina later.

Ochako had embarrassingly admitted to the pink girl that occasionally she would get a little antsy, waiting for Katsuki to arrive home.

"Just start without him!" Mina had teased, nudging her friend.

At the time, Ochako had laughed it off, and now here she lay, loving every minute of her 'me' time.

She rolls her hips towards fingers, moving them lower, slipping one inside. A long, drawn out moan slips from her lips, and she imagines how much thicker Katsuki's cock is.

Whining, she wiggles her hips, pressing her finger deeper, thrusting the digit in and out of herself. She caresses her breast, tugging on her nipple. The pleasure outweighs the small sting of pain. Katsuki is a genius when it comes to that sort of play. She doesn't know how he does it.

She imagines his lips caressing her shoulder, his teeth scraping over her tits. He probably would be thrusting much faster than her, making her body bounce beneath him. Or maybe, he would be down between her legs, his thumb pushing hard on her clit while his tongue laps away at her hot slick.

She pushes down on her clit harder, rubbing herself faster. Her legs pull up, feet pressed against the sheets.

She misses him, far too much for her own good.

They both knew it would be difficult to get time together, now that they were pro heroes. It didn't stop them from being unable to keep their hands off each other, and eventually moving in together.

It's rare their shifts line up like this. Usually Ochako is out patrolling the streets in the morning, while Katsuki spends his evenings away from their apartment. From time to time they get lucky nights like this, where they're both off after working a morning shift.

And Ochako wishes Katsuki weren't so damn married to his job so he could come home on time, like a normal human.

Her hips cant towards her fingers, her thumb rubbing her clit faster. "Hah... hah... ngh..." she moans, breathing heavily. Twisting her nipple with her other finger, she humps up towards the air, desperate to feel the rush of her orgasm. It would be impressive if she could make herself finish at least once before Katsuki gets home.

She's close.

Rubbing faster, her walls throb around her fingers, her fingers coated in her own slick. She's making a bit of a mess on their sheets, which only spurs her on. Imagine how frustrated Katsuki would be if he got home to her satisfied by her own fingers, the only evidence left behind a small spot on the sheets.

She's so damn close; every muscle in her body pulls with tension, desperate and so ready for the euphoric release.

As if on cue, their front door slams and Ochako freezes her fingers, her chest heaving while she pants on their bed. A soft whimper escapes her lips. She was so close… disappointment washes over her.

"Oi! Cheeks! Where the hell are ya'?" he calls out, his loud tone echoing in their kitchen.

Suddenly, her lips curl into a smirk.

Something about being caught by him makes her insides throb more. How dare he interrupt her private pleasure time?

"I'm here, Katsuki!" she calls out, "in the bedroom!"

"Oi, Ochako," he grunts and steps into their doorway, swinging the door open aggressively.

His response is everything she could've hoped for and more.

With a growl, he drops his bag onto the ground and makes for the bed. "Someone got excited without me?"

She smirks, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "Maybe just a little."

"I love you so damn much," he purrs, leaning a knee onto the bed as he pushes his hero costume down, revealing his bare chest. "And now-"

She stops him, leaning up to press a few of her padded fingers against his chest. Trailing her fingers down his body, she touches at his smooth, muscular skin. "And now... you can watch."

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, intrigued by her suggestion. She knows he enjoys taking control in the bedroom, and on the rare occasions he gives it up, he loves when she tells him what to do.

"Watch?" He sighs and leans back, stepping off the bed. She could see the thought excites him, his lips curling into a smirk as he silently agrees. He takes a seat across the room and folds his hands together, a growl slipping through his lips. His impatience is radiating off of him and she wonders how long her little game will last. For now, she wants to milk it for all it's worth.

"Mhm," she hums and rolls her own nipple between her fingers, trailing her other hand down her body. "I was imagining you doing this before you got home," she says, brushing her fingertips over her clit. She sucks in a sharp breath of air.

"And you just couldn't wait?" Katsuki teases, his voice low, a dangerous sound. She's worried she might cave; have him take her completely.

But she wants him to watch her show.

She rubs her fingers over her clit, tugging on her nipple. "I couldn't," she moans. "I kept imagining your teeth scraping over my skin and your... fingers touching me..." she says, using her fingers to spread her folds nice and wide for him to see. "It's begging for you," she whines, pressing her head back against the pillow as she slips her fingers back inside.

It's almost self-torture, knowing he's sitting right there, his cock so close. She could have everything she desires. It would be so simple, and yet she wants him to see her like this.

"Sounds like you had fun," he grunts, and though she can't fully see him, she can hear how affected he is, his breath heavy and full.

"Mm," she hums, peering over at him. He's palming at his boxers and she can hear the fabric moving against his slight thrusts. "Don't touch yourself, Katsuki. Save it all for me."

"Greedy," he snorts.

"That's what you get for coming home late." She rocks her hips towards her fingers, rubbing at her clit faster. "I'll feel so much fuller when it's you in here."

"Ochako..." he growls and she can't help but giggle through her moans.

Her body is heating up again, her fingers thrusting in and out faster. She's getting sloppy, she can tell, her fingers squelching as she pushes them inside of her, completely covered in her own juices.

Sweat rolls down her neck and she's panting heavily, her breathy moans building, higher and higher in pitch.

"Are you close?" Katsuki asks, his voice strained and desperate.

"Yes..." she gasps, her breath catching in her throat.

"Good girl," he says, and she can hear the smile on his lips.

"I'll... cum for you..." she pants, her hips twitching and thrusting up without any reserve, her ass slapping down against the bed as she humps against her own digits. Her tits move against her chest, her body insane with desire, chasing the finish she's so close to. "Ngh... a-ah... K-Katsuki..."

"You can do it," he grunts, and his voice is just about enough to send her to the edge, her walls tightening around her fingers. "Hurry up, this is... fuckin' torture."

She wishes she could make it last forever, force him to watch her play with herself until her legs quake, but she's too close and she can't hold herself back...

"A-Ah!" she gasps and her back arches as she throbs around her fingers, her orgasm rushing through her. She pulls her fingers out and spreads her legs, letting Katsuki watch her pulsing walls and slick rush out of her. "K-Katsuki... Please..." she says.

"Please what?" he asks, but he knows. Before she can answer, he's out of the chair, pushing his shorts down and rolling a condom over his cock.

He climbs onto the bed and scoops his hands under her ass, pressing his tip to her entrance. "Tell me what you want, Cheeks," he chuckles, rubbing himself at her hole. His red eyes are staring at her with an intensity she adores. She loves seeing him look absolutely ravenous.

She swallows, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss, nipping playfully at his lips. "Fuck me," she demands, the vulgarity of it all making her cheeks flush.

"Fuckin' finally."

With a grunt, he slams into her, thrusting his hips in and out, their skin slapping together wildly. His cock is thick and so much better than her fingers will ever be. She's so damn sensitive from her first orgasm, her walls are throbbing around him and she can barely stop her cries of pleasure.

"K-Katsuki..." she breathes, keeping her arms locked around his neck and her legs hooked around his waist.

He pushes into her as fast as he can, kissing at her lips, her chin, her neck. She loves feeling his hot mouth all over her body, her mind blanking because of how damn good he feels. Her hard nipples brush against his chest and she moans against his lips, kissing him hard.

"O-Ochako... Ngh... Fuck..." he grunts, planting his feet against the bed as he pounds into her. He braces himself with one hand and reaches down with the other, rubbing fast at her wet clit.

"A-AH!" she screams, thrusting up to the touch. She gasps, over stimulation making her tremble after having brought herself to completion once. "I-I can't! I-I can't it's too much!" she huffs, her panting growing so heavy.

"This is what happens when you don't wait for me," he chuckles, rubbing her faster, hoping to push her over the edge one more time.

"K-Katsuki!" she gasps, her eyes shooting open as she squeezes her walls around his cock, her orgasm rushing through her once more. Her legs twitch, her heels pushing against his ass as she lets out a silent moan, her breath shaking through her lips. She feels dizzy, stars dancing in front of her eyes and it's a miracle they're not both floating away.

He slams into her erratically a few times, his thrusts deep and heavy as she feels his cock twitch against her pulsing walls, his finish pouring into the condom. He pulls in a few deep breaths, gasps slipping between his lips. "Holy fuckin' shit, Ochako."

She giggles, her fingers curling in the blond tendrils which sweep over the back of his neck. She pecks at his lips, feeling fuzzy from from her multiple orgasms. "It was good. I love you so much."

He lowers himself down next to her, pulling out and wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing at her shoulder.

"Yeah, I love you too…" he grumbles. "I have to come home late more fuckin' often, damn," he snorts, still trying to catch his breath.

"Don't you dare," she hums, brushing her nails down his muscular arm. She knows this probably won't be the last round for the night, not with how worked up she got him. "If you do, I might have to start without you again."

"Fine," he huffs. "But don't finish until I get here."

Smirking, she lightly kisses his forehead. "No promises."

#kacchako #uraraka ochako #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #zine fic

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thanksjro · 5 years ago

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The Mystery of the Transformer Decoys, Parts 1-3: A Whodunnit Adventure

This isn’t exclusively a Roberts’ publication. There were a lot of folks on this one, actually. Of course the first collaborative effort I cover here has five people on it for the writing alone, not to mention the art credits.

I’ll be going through everything, of course, because it wouldn’t make sense not to, and also because it’ll be interesting to look at how all these young writer’s styles are going to play together.

And you read that right, Pounce and Wingspan are in this. They were in Liars, A-to-D- Pounce was holding the Galvatron puppet- and Eugenesis as minor characters. I’m excited to get a little more of their characterization.

Now, without further ado, let’s get into The Mystery of the Transformer Decoys.

There he is, our main character- Nightbeat! Standing at over 90 feet tall and wearing the largest trenchcoat this side of Alpha Centauri, our boy’s well on his way to the robotic equivalent of lung cancer as he watches Sideswipe breakdance in an attempt to appease this god of detective prowess. Megatron might be looking to kill him, but’s he’s going to have to try a lot harder to bring this big guy down.

We get a little message from our ‘zine organizer and editor, Richard Ahern, on the nature of putting a thing like this together.

Good on you for sticking to it, Ahern.

Part 1 of our story is written by Martin McVay; we open on a scene in the Celestial Spires, where Nightbeat and a co-conspirator are dealing with the spoils of Nightbeat’s most recent case- twenty turbo-fox brains on a rope, glowing with residual Matrix energy. Someone paid Nightbeat to find these things. Right off the bat, we’re getting weird. I dig it.

As the co-conspirator checks the goods for any alarm systems or bombs, Nightbeat stares out the window and muses on the way life is at present, with the war looming in the skies of Cybertron, ever present. He notices a light on in the tower across the way- strange, given that it’s late as shit. Before he can investigate further, Getaway snaps him out of his concentration, having finished with the brain chips.

Yeah, Getaway. Relax, he isn’t a completely morally-bankrupt bastard in this- that’s strictly an IDW thing.

By the time, Nightbeat’s gone back to the window, the light is out.

Part 2, written by Ahern, takes place a few weeks after Part 1, with the high-ranking Autobot who employed Nightbeat breaking out the death threats if he doesn’t get those skulls he paid for. It turns out these skulls have a sort of power to them, the sort that makes one loathe to part with the things once they’re in their possession. Still, Nightbeat is nothing if not a professional, and finally makes his way over to Wingspan’s base of operations.

The exchange is made, and Wingspan invites Nightbeat to take in the view from the roof.

As Nightbeat leaves, we get the perspective of an onlooker- Pounce- who takes in the scene with glee, having been the one to set up the whole “problem” Nightbeat had been hired to handle, at Wingspan’s behest. He’s less gleeful to find that the guy he hired to tail Nightbeat isn’t terribly good at his job, seeing as he can, well, see him. He may end up having to kill Nightbeat if if he doesn’t get his act together, but that’s life, I guess. He then pulls the skulls from a case and throws them around his neck like a macabre string of Mardi Gras beads.

It was at this point I stopped what I was doing and made a sandwich to make sure my blood sugar hadn’t suddenly dropped, because things got sort of confusing, narrative-wise, and I legitimately couldn’t tell if it was a writing issue or the fact that all I’d eaten in the last 24 hours was a single bowl of shrimp linguini.

Then I came back, tried again, and determined that it was a bit of both.

In the middle of this part, we get some classic magazine advertising action, which helps clear up a bit of the confusion.

There’s a full-page ad for Transformers Junk Files, another ‘zine, this one being a TMUK writing anthology.

On the other page we get a character synopsis for Pounce, Wingspan, and Circuit, who we haven’t met yet in this story. We’ll get to him in a bit.

Turns out Pounce and Wingspan are clone brothers.

Yep. Clone brothers.

(Their robot modes are pretty much identical.)

No, see, here’s the thing: these are actually established characters within the Transformers franchise. The only reason I didn’t catch it on my read-through of Eugenesis is because I was basing my interpretation of the characters on what was presented to me in Liars, A-to-D, where Pounce looks like this:

And there isn’t an ounce of kibble visible to tell me he turns into a friggin’ big cat. I just figured that Liars Pounce and puma Pounce were separate entities. It’s not like these guys are huge players in the cartoons or Marvel comics- they were in a single episode of the original 80’s show.

Regardless, it would seem that Wingspan is not who he presents himself to be to Nightbeat, and that the Decepticons just got their hands on something very mysterious and very powerful.

Part 3, written by Charles Ellis, follows Nightbeat as he muses on Wingspan’s threat.

Well, that’s… ominous.

Things are back to status quo for our good detective, until he’s brought on to solve a murder- excuse me, a cybercide. He arrives on the scene, and the scene is simply doused in mech-fluid.

No, mech-fluid is not at all similar to man-juice. It’s basically blood.

Nightbeat asks just who the hell got offed, and the current consensus seems to be that he was a member of the special branch of Security Forces- robots so deep undercover they practically don’t exist.

Nightbeat takes in the carnage, and quickly formulates a hypothesis based on the damage to the body, the destroyed computer, and the pain chips he’s found on the floor.

In a brief aside, Nightbeat laments on the fact that he has no alt-mode- they’re a distinctly war-centric thing in the Marvel continuity- as he drives down the road in an honest-to-god jalopy. Then he sees Megatron, and that kind of ruins his day.

The plot catches up to Circuit as Nightbeat confronts him, demanding answers, seeing as he’s working with just about every mob in Iacon.

Circuit is an Autobot known for trying to cut a deal with everyone he comes into contact with. Deals that solely benefit him. He doesn’t have an alt, but he does have a pretty sweet ride that turns into an exosuit when needed. If you read IDW’s Robots in Disguise, you’ll remember him as the reporter who shows up repeatedly in the story there.

With a little moolah flashed his way, Circuit lets slip that he heard about someone seeing “Meggy” at a place called Slammer’s. It’s all he’s got, but Nightbeat’s trying to stay optimistic and heads out to investigate.

#transformers #mystery of the transformer decoys #part one #part two #part three #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing #zine

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houseofvans · 6 years ago

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ART SCHOOL | Q&A with DETH P. SUN

Influenced by the works of Richard Scarry, Charles Schultz, and the likes of Tove Jannson, artist Deth P. Sun’s interest in art and zines started early on–from drawing everything in an encyclopedia to creating his first zine in high school. From that point on, Deth has been a prolific painter, zine maker, and doodler, focused on making his art on his own terms. With his central hero– a genderless cat – Deth explores various natural and strange worlds through a subtle narrative, created by his brushwork, ambiguity, and color palettes.

Find out more about Deth’s art, his wordless storytelling, and what inspires him by taking the leap below.

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

Introduce yourself? My name is Deth P. Sun, I’m an artist living in a tiny coastal town in Northern California, but most of my adult life was spent in the Bay Area, primarily in Oakland and Berkeley. I tell people I’m Cambodian, which is mostly true.

When did you begin having an interest in art and painting? How or why do you think you gravitated towards this profession? I’ve always enjoyed drawing, I think I kind of like getting better at it and learning about new things that are centered around that. It’s one of the cheaper hobbies to get started in as a kid. It’s not really a thing I think about too much these days. Mostly I wonder how my life was set by my 17 year old self.

How do you describe your work to people who maybe unfamiliar with it? Until I moved to this town I live in now, I kind of never had to. Mostly because I don’t meet new people outside of my circle. I just tell people I’m a graphic artist. If they want more info I just stare at them blankly because I think it’s kind of rude to ask strangers what they do for a living.

There are various aspects to your paintings from being narrative and storytelling to those that feature various painted objects and natural things. Can you tell us a little bit about the narrative elements of your works and how that came about? Yeah, I just like suggesting that there’s a narrative with my work, which isn’t that hard as long as you don’t stray too much from your pallette or reuse images to find in each painting. I kind of like seeing a whole set of paintings, that’s when you sense that there is a story.

When did you protagonist character start to take shape? How did that evolve and come-about? I’ve just always drew a character like that. Probably in high school. It’s been so long I don’t really remember. It probably came from my sketchbook. Most of my sketchbooks are kind of boring because it was just me repeatedly drawing the same stuff until I got better at it. I think I was trying to draw a cat and I drew something else that I liked.

In some of your other works, you paint collections of items from food, mushrooms, crystals to swords and old style cell phones. How did these paintings originate for you? Were you finding yourself sketching certain things that you read about or were you just obsessed with a certain object that week? My parents taught themselves English using Richard Scarry books so they were the first books I had my hands on. It’s just pages and pages of him drawing things with words describing what they were underneath. When I was younger I had this project where I’d take an encyclopedia and try drawing everything in it. I think I only got to M. Also when I was kid while drawing in my sketchbook I would just run out of stuff to draw so I’d go room to room drawing everything in each room.

It was just a thing to kill time.

How has where you live and its landscape influenced the work you create? What’s your favorite thing about residing there? I guess it does a little, but I think I drew the stuff and then when I got here, I liked it a lot, so I ended up on this tiny coastal town on the bluffs. I started drawing weird epic landscapes after watching a bunch of Swedish films a few years ago.

What was your last adventure or walk through your neighborhood that showed up in one of your work, thematically or just visually? One time a friend invited me to a barbeque. They lived near the train tracks a couple of miles from me, so I walked up the tracks passed the cemetery and over a few tressel bridges. It was really nice walk. Met a turtle. They had to come down and get me because I didn’t know the path to their house, and it was getting dark.

What IS your favorite thing to draw or paint? Do you have an UNfavorite thing to draw or paint? I like drawing pineapples. I hate when strangers ask me to draw them. I want to punch them in the face.

When did you start picking up the paint brush and taking your works to the canvas? What do you enjoy about painting vs. drawing? The first time I painted was in my high school art class, I think like most other Americans. I was using tempera, so it sucked. But I started buying acrylic soon after. I think painting and drawing is kind of the same thing, or least I just paint like I’m drawing. I don’t think it was a strange transition.

What’s a typical day like for you at home and in the studio? What’s your process like? I fill out internet orders sometimes, or a wholesale order. Sometimes I draw. Mostly I get up and look at my email and go, “I have a lot of stuff to do and this is gonna suck”. I don’t really multitask, so it’s usually me filling out orders for 8 hours and trying to get to the post office before 4:30 while watching dumb shit on the internet, or me helping a friend screen print in my garage, or if I have a show just ignoring everything else in life and painting for two months.

A few years ago I kind of got burnt out of making a living with just painting. So I was like maybe I should make more t-shirts and prints. So I ended up moving to Fort Bragg and screenprinting more stuff and making more drawings toward that. But now my days are filled with me screen printing and filling out small orders or hanging out on my computer photoshopping all day. So now I’m in some other kind of hell.

What are your go-to art tools? A Pilot Hi-Tec C (They’re called G-Tec 4s in other places) pen. I use the .4, but should probably switch to .5. You have to have a light touch with them or else they’ll jam.

Right now I enjoy using Mitsubishi pencils, but the cheap Mirado Black Warrior pencil you can get at most stationary store is just as good.

Been filling a sketchbook using Opaque markers. Posca’s are pretty good, but the color choices are limited, so I started buying Molotow. The Molotow’s can be refilled so they might end up being a better value.

Lately I’ve been painting with cheap $2 craft paints mostly because I don’t like mixing colors. Just bought a few of the Martha Stewart’s at Michaels. I still buy Golden and Liquitex, but it’s nice to mix in other stuff.

Not only do you draw and paint, you are always printing and creating zines of your works. Do you remember your very first zine you made? Are you working on a new zine? The first zine I made was pretty horrible. It was staple at the top corner, and I gave it out to my friends when I was in high school. I put everything precious in a box before I left for college and when I came back my dad had threw it out. At the time I was pretty bummed, but now I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that. I’m always working on something. Sometimes things take a really long time. I drew everything I ate while in England and Scotland several years ago and just now getting it all together. I’ve gotten rejected from a bunch of zine fairs, so there really isn’t a urgency to get it finished. I’m thinking of making one for the tiny town I’m in, and other that’s like a newspaper, but filled with just my gibberish drawing of words.

Do you have a favorite zine maker out there you’d like to share with folks? I’m pretty excited to be tabling at Comics Art Brooklyn. Last year I sat nearby Evan Cohen (http://www.evanmcohen.com) who I had just bought zines online from a few weeks before so that was kind of unexpected. He makes rad work. There was a few other artists there whose work I enjoyed. I came home with a lot of nice prints which I never really get from strangers. Stuff from Natalie Andrewson, Tiny Splendor, most everything Peow Studios publishes, and Jen Tong. I like this zine called Terror House by Sammy Harkham that I’d buy a few to give out to friends and the zines my friend, Evah Fan makes.

What are you constantly inspired by? And who are some of your early and current art influences? I think what keeps me going is random problem solving with how I paint. Or maybe the natural world. I don’t really know if I’m being totally honest. I grew up reading Peanuts. It has it’s good moments. I think I became comfortable with not always having to be in the up. I really like Tove Jannson’s work.. I’m not a fan Tintin, but I like the way Hergé uses color and lines. I was lucky enough to come to the Bay Area while the Mission School was around and Yoshitoma Nara had a few shows, so it made it okay for me to make paintings the way I do.

What do you do when you are not painting, drawing or making zines? How do you find yourself unwinding? I watch a lot of dumb shit on youtube and take long walks. Each week I go to a game night where I do board games (Catan, Ticket to Ride, Dixit, Pirates Cove are in the usual rotation). I like to cook and have people over. I actually unwind by drawing and watching a lot of basketball while listening to basketball podcasts.

What advice would you offer to an aspiring artist who might wanna follow in your footsteps? Be nice to everyone you meet ever. Always try to learn. Don’t get caught up in what people think of you or your work. Know that if you keep on doing something you’ll get better at it. Pick up different hobbies. Make friends with other artists. Be open to all opportunities. Get used to rejection.

What’s your best Art School tip that you want to share with folks? Some random wisdom you learned through your personal journey or just while making art? You know I don’t know if I’m the best person to get advice from since I sort of carved out this weird existence. When you’re young, it’s easy to get caught up in weird things and maybe a person should just get caught up in those things. I do meet old school mates who have regrets about how their time in art school was spent, but I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way of doing it. I think there really isn’t any rush, and also if you feel like you “failed” you can always just get back up because no one is really paying attention.

I think I hear a lot from folks who worry that they’re too old to try painting or doing art for a living. And I’d hear this from someone who’s like 25 or 30. But there really isn’t a deadline to any of this stuff and also no one really knows how old anyone is. I think everyone’s trying to get to some sort of finish line, but really just existing and making work is all there is.

What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an artist? In an alternate universe, what career would Deth find himself doing? I’d probably be working in tech if I’m being honest with myself.

What’s a question you never get asked in an interview that you wanna ask yourself and answer? There really isn’t.

What are your favorite style of VANS? My favorite Vans were the slip ons with a grey herring bone pattern on them. I had 4 or 5 pairs, but I think they switched to a smaller pattern because I couldn’t find them again.

What’s coming up for you the rest of the year or into the next? Comic Arts Brooklyn (http://comicartsbrooklyn.com), a solo show in January at Spoke Art (https://spoke-art.com) in San Francisco. I’ll have stuff at a print fair in Oakland (https://www.oaklandprintfair.com), and an art book fair in Berlin (http://www.friendswithbooks.org/content/about) through Vanilla Studios (http://vanillastud.io).

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