#every year we may learn to have more stamina to handle things and some day it will not suck as much

[mantisgodsdomain]

How about Scarlet getting transmuted into a bat? 'Tis Vampiric tradition, after all.

Sometimes, people will say that gods are "helpful" and "useful". These people are lying. These people are lying very blatantly, in a very provably wrong way, in a way that you SHOULD correct them on if you catch them with it, because they're MASSIVE LIARS. Incredibly massive liars. Gods do not solve problems, they make problems worse. They just make problems worse in ways that you couldn't have imagined could even happen previously.

As it turns out, silk DOES NOT play well with a barrel bigger than the one it was tailored to, and even if it's decently stretchy, that stuff does not tear. This is very unfortunate if you are, say, turning into a bat thirty times your original size, and it sucks and carries a high risk of breaking ribs. And organs. Ah, well. At least it's... survivable?

(BONUS: "Kindly explain to me how any of this helps, at all. with anything.")

[koru-kamiyama]

Prince!Childe X Mentor!Gn!Reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*☆ﾟ.*･

"Hah...is this as far as you can handle, f/n~? Losing stamina at this point won't give you a chance for victory.."

"S-stop acting like you've the upper hand, Ajax...that sword is as good as broken."

"Hah. My sword could crumble to pieces, yet my will to finally defeat you certainly won't-"

you throw the sword to Childe's position, hitting his stomach. Though it's merely one of wood, it's still enough to knock him out.

"You could have the will of a beast, like that of an oni, or even that of the highest god. But will is simply not enough to beat even just an average peasant..."

You carry Childe to the medic to heal his wounds like in every training session.

"Ah...f/n. Just, just watch. I will defeat you next time..."

"You don't have to tell me what I've heard over a hundred times now, including our previous session."

You both hold an awkward silence, until you speak again.

"How about we strike a deal, Ajax."

"Not an unpleasant idea. A deal of what sort?"

"If you can ever defeat me, I'll be your servant until the day i die. I'd kiss your shoes, be your stepping stone, or whatever you'd desire."

Childe's expression morphs into that of shock, as you were only hired to train him in his years of young adulthood for the future of his family's kingdom.

"I see no reason to hold back. Well then, i accept!"

"However, you only have 3 days to defeat me. If you fail to do so, i shall cut our ties and bid farewell. In other words, I'll be quitting if the time comes and i stay undefeated."

He becomes shocked once again, for he really enjoys your company, and the frequent training you provide him only continues to fulfill and build up his desires.

"I-i...i will do anything necessary...i will defeat you, f/n! Don't dare expect anything less from me..!"

"Very well then. The deal shall begin tomorrow. We have no rules other than 'landing a hit on me, or making me lose my balance leading to a fall, will be your victory'."

A smile visibly lights up on his face as his proud expression returns yet again.

"So be quick on getting your answers. I couldn't care less about your consumption of potions that boost one's power. The concern i have left is that it mustn't destroy you."

"Very well, i understand."

The day before the first battle commences, Childe goes to the only place that he knows that could possibly empower him; the Fatui. His own kingdom's army.

"Good day, our dearest prince. May i ask what task you have received here today? You usually don't go around the headquarters so i'd like to acquire on your intentions."

"...i need something, something powerful enough to empower and strengthen me for a battle. Failing that battle will have me lose someone i always long for, so i absolutely must win that fight."

"Must you fight the battle alone?"

"Ah, that is correct. That battle is a duel, only between me and some other person i made a deal with. So, do you have any suggestions?"

"...well, there are plenty of potions available in our inventories that could help strengthen you, and there are also the more powerful ones that can turn a flimsy soldier practically invincible. Simply undefeatable."

"I shall trust in your suggestion...and I will need more. I'll let you know of something you must be aware of...that they who i will be facing has fought multiple wars in different kingdoms, thus their experience is no thing to belittle."

"Well, there is one thing..."

"That is?"

"We have created Delusions years ago, and had found a way to purify them and make the user stronger than ever. However...it would take two days to make one.."

"Well then, you must begin. For i will use it in the future to lead our nation as well, i trust in your words. Now i must learn their weaknesses.."

"I will go on a short trip through the kingdom they originated from, so prepare me a carriage and make sure it's decent in the least."

"Understood, your highness."

Childe walks through the halls, returning to his room.

F/n, you can't go yet...i had never been able to ask you out on a simple feast, nor have i ever known you outside of training! I need you...to stay for a little while longer..

Childe's thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his little brother tugging on his clothes.

"Brother! Brother y'gotta hear about that person who saved me!"

He looks at his younger brother in surprise.

"Saved? From? Did someone hurt you?!"

"Eh? Nooo- but because of the person that saved me, i wasn't eaten by those big nasty wolves! Hey, big brother?"

"Hm?"

"Can they...can they be your lover? So that they could become my sibling too!"

"I...i...well then, I'll see what i can do. What did they look like?"

"Ah- hello, Ajax. Greetings, young prince. Glad to see you're alright, li'l kid."

"Hehe...thank you for saving me again!"

"F-F/N?! Why would you-"

"Why of course, for it is my duty and also one's obligation to help those who are troubled."

"O-oh, right! Dinner's almost ready! Can we get this kind Mx to eat dinner with us?"

"...of course, Teucer. Wh-why don't you go to the dinner table while i talk with our new friend for now?"

"Oh, okay big brother! I'll be waiting for you two there!" the young prince says with a bright smile and leaves.

"Okay...what on THE SEATS OF THE SEVEN FU- ARCHONS HAPPENED TO TEUCER?"

"Uh...well let's just say one of the soldiers was requested to look after the young prince, and his highness managed to escape his grasp while the wolves were sleeping.

He accidentally woke them up and for some reason they thought he was a boar. Fortunately, i was there. I chanted a spell to make them fall alseep and prevented your brother from turning to wolf food."

"I-...it's about time that we find better babysitters.."

"Exactly. And to acknowledge the current times, I'd like to ask if i have the honors to eat with you royals.

So, may i?"

"It'll merely be with me and my siblings, for Father and Mother have other business to attend to."

"Uh...so may i?"

"Of course you may for the deeds you have done. I'll also ask father and mother to hire a new babysitter soon..."

"You know? I'd be willing to take up that job if it isn't for my desire to travel to the rest of the kingdoms."

"...would you if i defeat you?"

"Of course."

"....would you marry me if i wanted to for Teucer?"

"I would, if you'll emerge the victor. If you do, i'd do all you desire from me to honor our deal."

"Then I'll strive harder to achieve that goal."

"Make sure you have enough hope left until time runs out."

You reach the door together, revealing a huge table with delicious food all over, the aroma flooding the room.

"How pleasant. The only time i ever see this much food is on festive seasons."

"Well you could stay with us-"

"No use trying to win verbally, Ajax."

"Oh, hello again Mx!"

"Hello yet again, young prince."

"Come sit with me and Big Brother!" he exclaims, each hand tapping the seats beside him.

"Ah, hello brother. Who are they...? Are they perhaps a guest of yours?"

"Indeed...they'll be eating with us today."

"Okay then, let me prepare a meal for them.."

The two of you sit in noticeable awkwardness while the other siblings stare at you.

Since Ajax had never had a guest nor a friend they know about, they were ever so slightly suspicious of you.

"Greetings, dear guest. What is, your name?"

"Oh, it's F/n, M/n, L/n.."

"Ah- so you're the person that our parents had hired to spar with our dear elder brother!" the rest sigh in relief upon the realization.

"Big Brother? When are you gonna marry f/n then?" his siblings glance at Ajax again in a shocked and weirded out expression.

"A-after i defeat them in a battle that we made a deal on.."

"Well then you better win! Oh well, i already know you will. After all, my big brother is suuuper strong!"

You glance at Childe with a menacing smirk, knowing that he hasn't ever won a single match between you two.

"Which is unfortunately for him, unlikely to happen. For i am not going down with ease."

"B-but...are you really going to marry Brother Ajax if he says so?"

"If he wins, i serve him. Simple as that."

"Which is why I'll definitely defeat you!"

After sipping down the last of your tea, you quickly finish your meal.

"Ajax. Make sure your horrendous losing streak won't affect our current fight, since you haven't won a single battle.

I wish to deliver my utmost gratitude for the meal. For now, I'll be going to bed to rest for tomorrow's first fight."

"Tata, Ajax~" you whistle goodbye as you leave the room.

After you had left, the rest of the siblings (other than Teucer) attack Ajax; or at least he lets them do so.

"I- have you lost your mind, Ajax?! You know damn well that there's no way in all the rings of hell that Mom and Dad wouldn't let you!"

"Sister, I'm afraid Mother and Father do not care whether they are noble or not. Those ways have passed by along with the times."

"I agree." the eldest brother replies.

"Sister, you should really calm down..."

"You are absolutely right."

"Is it that time of the month yet again...? I could've sworn it was at the time of the full moo-"

"SHUT IT YOU BLOCKHEAD!"

"Okay okay, quiet down you two. I...i genuinely do like them and want to spend more time with them. However, if I'd like them to stay here, i must defeat them.

But...i...haven't won. A single battle, as they just clarified.."

The siblings look at each other and at Ajax in shock.

"I thought they were kidding when they said you never won..."

"Seriously? I knew you weren't the best but...i didn't know...I DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU WERE THIS PATHETIC, AJAX! Y-YOU, YOU CAN'T EVEN RECEIVE A LOVE LETTER FROM ANYONE AND, AND, AND YOU HAVEN'T DEFEATED THEM ONCE?!" the oldest sibling laughs hysterically.

"Come on, brother! I want f/n to be part of our family!"

"I-i'll try...I'll try like i always do..." Childe says with slight hesitation, and sighs.

"Pft- c'mere, Ajax! I'll teach ya how to touch the hearts of fellas like them! Even before and after the fight, you're gonna be defeated with that flimsy body and slow brain, so try to build a lovely relationship with 'em before they leave you."

"Sister...I'm worried that your wording might be confusing sometimes so I'll help too."

"I- thank you both, dearest sisters."

"Pfft...it'll be rather entertaining to watch you two fight like how couples do."

"Hah, just wait you two. I will win, I'll win the battle and I'll win over their heart!"

"We'll be sure to cheer you on, big brother!"

Time quickly passes by, and morning strikes like the lightning bolts (that kill my Ningguang when I'm not looking-).

Before heading to the field of the duel, Childe drinks the potions that the Fatui provided.

Okay...make sure to win it all...

"You ready now, Ajax?"

"This challenge's rather hard to come by, well then...amuse me."

Blades of hydro suddenly emerge onto his hands from his vision...interesting...

"Will do~ but if you manage to land a hit on me or make me fall.."

"I'll surely have you fall not only to the ground, but also for me."

"Oh please, how you flatter me~" you take out your sword as flames surround the blade.

"I'd say our duel will be quite the interesting one, considering the elemental reactions that could spark from the visions we hold." you say as you throw slashes of flames, which he dodges with precision.

The Creators skipped this part cause they were lazy as hell

and we have no knowledge in combat choreography-

We only know statistics

(i only know pyro + cryo/hydro = ginormous pp dmg-)

Merely an hour or so later, Childe lays in bed with a broken arm and injured body.

"Sheesh...that's what they did to you? Yikes, pretty faces really do have the strongest fists.."

"Couldn't say that for our sister."

"You might wanna shut up or you'll end up in an even worse condition than Ajax..."

"Sister you really shouldn't-"

"The medic's here."

"Ah, hello Mr. Ajax. Yet another round of intense training?"

"ANOTHER?! PFT- HAHAHAHAHA!"

"JUST SHUT UP YOU TWO!"

The next day, the end result is the same, but it was a close call.

"Ah...that was so close, Ajax.

Despite not using potions, your speed improved quite drastically....but that could only get you so far."

"Hah...ha.."

"Your body's giving out. Ajax, just give up before your own wounds potentially kill you before i lay a finger on you again."

"I won't...i won't ever give up...I'd die for you to stay.."

"Ajax. It's not worth exerting yourself this much, come on. Heal..."

As you walk forth to grab him, he'd already passed out.

"Stop fucking moving! If you don't rest, you'll push yourself too hard to the point that your body won't be able to heal-"

"I...i need...t-to...to win..."

"Ah...get the medics....I SAID GET THE MEDICS, HE COULD JUST DIE RIGHT NOW!"

you sigh, quite upset from today's outcome.

Time passes and midnight has arrived (like the stupid def artifs i get on every domain run-). Childe had just finished healing and heads to the headquarters to get the Delusion he had requested for.

"Has it been made?"

"It is, your majesty.

Behold, a purified Delusion."

"Tomorrow is the final day of the duels. Get the best potion maker you know to make strengthening potions for me."

I need f/n to stay...

He sighs, returning to his bed and resting his eyes.

The final day has arrived, but the duel will now be held in a different space; in a larger space.

There's a rather violent blizzard outside, but that isn't enough to stop the duel of fate between you two.

"Hey, Ajax. It's the final day. I'm sorry, we won't meet again."

Just as you do on any other day, you grasped onto your sword of flames.

But just a second later you feel the air around you weighing down on you, as if you're gonna choke.

As you see Ajax's form, your body freezes up.

What. The hell. Happened to him...

You could barely even move a finger.

What is this power...?

Eventually, everything fades to black and you fall unconscious.

You wake up in a warm bed while Childe sleeps soundly beside you.

"A-Ajax?"

"H-huh...f/n!"

"You're finally awake!"

"Oh...how long was i-"

"A few hours or so."

"But...I WON! I- I REALLY DID IT!"

"Oh...you did.

Huh...ah...

Why. How. Why the fuck did you win?"

"Uh- well let's just say i may or may not have tried to choke you."

"...with that form?.."

"Y-yeah? Listen, i...i-I'm really sorr-" you cut his words off with a sudden kiss.

"Help...Ajax. I think, i'm in love with you.."

"Wh-what."

"'Your power is what I've always been craving the most. I wanted to find the master i truly wanted to serve, but i finally found you.

Oh Master Ajax, may i make love with you?' is what i would say if i was way more obsessed with you.

But hey...can i?"

"I-i...let's...take it as a way to start our relationship...?"

"Hm, fine then. I probably have some lube stored somewhere here, so just wait there.."

"H-huh?! W-we haven't done anything more than just kissing once! I mean- that 'once' was literally just now!"

"Ain't easy to figure out if I'm in the mood, so do take your chance, Ajax.

Ah, here we go. And an aphrodisiac that'll be enough for both for us..."

"Hah, nice~"

"Got the lube now. Just gonna lube myself up so sit still and enjoy the show if you'd like."

You take off your belt along with your pants and undergarments.

Taking a handful of lube, you spread your legs in front of him, sex clearly exposed before entering with your wet fingers, lubing yourself up and playing with yourself. You groan lightly as you sink your fingers a bit deeper.

"Ahah~ Ajax....i think i'm lubed up now. I'll just drink the aphrodisiac and.." you gulp down the aphrodisiac, whining as you grinded in front of Childe.

"Hey, Ajax. Can you drink with me too?...i feel lonely like this~..." you pleaded to him as you lick the fabric covering his crotch.

He gasps from your sudden approach, but couldn't look away.

"I-i...if you say so.." Childe grabs the bottle of the aphrodisiac and chugs it down, slamming it back on the side table as it became empty.

"Ah...A-Ajax please i, i wanna feel you...now.."

Your grasp hooks onto his belt before you try moving him forward, but he quickly pins you down with an intimate gaze. His voice noticeably became more aggressive as his breathing seems to deepen.

"It's sickening. It's always been sickening, the way you make me feel so...weak. But then i eventually figured, it's because I'm feeling something for you...so i held back for your sake.

But now, i can do as i please. And you'd comply for all i desire, won't you, my willing servant?"

" A-Aja-"

"You're lubed enough already, right?" he asks, fingers trailing against your thighs, and groping them.

"Y-yeah...all ready for you now.."

He smiles at your affirmation and chuckles lightly. "Perfect."

In

"Get on top of me, and sit on my lap...come on now, f/n.."

"A-as you wish, my lord.."

You position yourself on his lap with your hands on his shoulders, gasping as your sex grinds against his.

He places his hand on your chest and slowly trails up to grasp onto your chin.

"F/n. You're mine now, got it? And only mine..."

You chuckle at the intimacy closing in on you two. "Of course, master Ajax. My body is all yours, and always will be.."

You sigh, trying to control how nervous you're becoming.

"M-master Ajax, may i serve you with my body...and my everything..?" you lift his hands slightly higher and enclosed its grasp around your neck, smiling gently.

"You may." Childe nods.

You give him another content glance before starting to penetrate yourself.

"Ah, my lord...i wonder how it would really feel for me...to have you in me.." your smile widens, your eyes filling with lust as you played with yourself.

Your moaning began escalating quite quickly, mumbling Childe's name in between the sweet-nothings. "Oh, fuck, fuck...th-there- please, Master Ajax..."

While your clothes begin to fall of from from your shoulders, Childe's gaze remains unwavering; like that of a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike its unknowing prey.

"F/n..."

"Y-yes, my lord..?"

His smile turns into a smirk as his eyes wander over your body, untrammeled.

"I'd like you to ride me instead."

"As you wish, Master Ajax."

"Oh fuck...master, i-I'm...I'm-"

You moan as you penetrated yourself with Childe's cock, which turns out bigger than you'd expected.

You try adjusting, but you felt his grasp tighten on your thighs; lifting you up, and down again..

"M-my lord, please, please...please slow down i-!"

"One simply wants to return your 'kindness' of refusing to let me rest during our duels...you've d-declared it yourself, have you not? I...i am in complete c-control now..."

The penetration became even more rough as you moved from the bed to the cold wall.

"Ah! Master A-Ajax! P-please-"

"I don't want to hear more of your crap, f/n. I don't remember giving a mere whore like you any sort of permission to speak, so you better shut your mouth before i fuck you until your mind breaks.."

You're unable to even form words from the overwhelming friction you feel in you.

"Suit yourself though. If you're slutty enough to want to be fucked to insanity, whine about as you please. So, wh-what's it gonna be, f/n? Oh fuck..." he groans weakly as your walls slightly loosen around him.

"Not a surprise that you're being such a dumb whore already. Did it feel nice when i thrusted deep into you or when i degraded you?"

"I-i...it's the latter, master...." you shyly look away, and he cackles at your response.

"Hah...you're such an interesting one, you. Such honesty and sweetness, yet such a filthy whore. Can't believe you thought you'd escape my grasp if you're this much of a desperate bitch.."

You attempt to muffle your moans, biting your hand as yearn and heat continue to rise in you, with tears filling your eyes.

"Such an obedient slut. Trying not to be naughty as master desires; you seem to must yearn for praise too...yet you don't. You'd bend my rules eventually, and everything goes your way; like it always does..." he says with a vaguely threatening tone, holding you with one hand and taking the aphrodisiac with the other.

"Drain the bottle dry. Drink. All of it."

"B-but Master...any more than the usual amount could be-"

"I don't want to hear any of that. Do you intend to go against my word?"

"N-no, of course not, my lord...i shall do, as you...please.." as he had ordered, you down the bottle to the last drop; instantly making you feel intensely feverish.

"Ah...hah...m-master...

Please, please, do as you desire, make me do anything as you desire, but just fuck me please! Please, i need you in me now..."

"How pathetic, yet cute.." his eyes seem to darken as he thrusted deeper than he had ever went.

You moan weakly from fatigue, but with such need.

"Fuck...that aphrodisiac made you much more adorable today~"

"I-i...m-master, please...i can't! Please-" your moaning becomes more intense as you feel tears running down your face.

"My body feels...s-strange, unfamiliar...could you help my body feel even better, my lord?"

"I could never reject such a polite request.."

"Hah...oh..m-my lord! Oh, Master! G-good, feels good! I- wai- ahh~!" you cry out as Childe let go of your hips and began to play with your chest.

He fondled with your nipples, quickly making your sex become all the more wetter from the pleasure he's giving you.

"master A-ajax...can i- can i kiss you...?" you pleaded with a needy gaze.

"I'm fully aware that you can; and you may. Though i don't seem to remember giving you authority to command me to do anything at all, do you?" he said with a slightly annoyed tone, clicking his tongue afterwards.

His grip on your nipples tighten further, forcing you to shut your eyes from the pain.

"I..i sincerely apologize, Master i-!"

It became noticeable that his touch on you had changed from the power you lent him.

Childe wasted no time to turn you around. Grabbing your chin, he forced you to face a mirror and to watch him fuck you relentlessly.

"You see this, little whore? You're all mine, and it'll always be staying that way...for eternity you'll be obligated to surrender your body to me, and only me.

Do i still need to fuck those words into your thick skull? Or did you understand?"

The tone of his voice was that of anger, yet it didn't fail to turn you on even more.

You didn't risk saying anything that could anger him further; agreeing to his statements without a second thought..

"Ah, y-yes Master...i-i am yo- Ah-!"

..though your replies constantly get cut off into shouts in an attempt to calm him down.

Groping on your inner thigh with his hand and the other on your chest, his relentless thrusting continue to pursue your complete submission.

Being the obedient servant you've been, he'd always wanted you to be his, and only his. Now that you're his spouse, this desire becomes reality; an absolute one.

Your body's all mine to claim..

His power-hungry thoughts surge through his head as his warm mouth bit onto the soft skin of your sensitive neck; making you whine out in pleasure though it hurt.

You cry out loudly, moaning out his name. The lewd sounds coming from your room eventually started becoming audible all across the castle.

The two of you tirelessly make love until Teucer started knocking on the door.

Discontinued

[brywrites]

Small Wonders

This is quite different from what I usually write because sex scenes are so not my forte, but I feel like said scenes are always so serious (which don’t get me wrong, is very often the mood), but I wanted to try my hand at writing intimacy that was a little more lighthearted. Smut, but not graphic? Soft smut? Is that a thing? I’m deciding it’s a thing.  Summary: Reid x Reader. Soft, sweet sex after the end of a long case.

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He comes home from a long case in Arizona to find her lying on the bed in a sundress. The soft light of golden hour filtering through the window illuminating her hair and the bare skin of her shoulder as she turns the page of a book she’s currently lost in. Reid leans up against the doorframe and thinks to himself that he’s never seen anything so lovely before, but then she looks up and notices him and a soft flush paints her cheeks and he knows that she is the loveliest vision he’s ever had the honor to behold.

“What are you doing?” she asks, bashful.

“Just… admiring the view.”

She stretches out across the bed, throwing one arm over the edge of the mattress dramatically. “Oh? You like what you see, Doctor?”

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he replies. In just three steps he crosses the room and flops onto the bed beside her.

Y/N giggles. “Weren’t you just at the Grand Canyon, like four hours ago? I find your statement highly suspect when you’ve just seen one of the literal Wonders of the World.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” His voice carries a mock gravitas, and before she has a chance to respond he wraps his arms around her to tickle he, and she’s in fits of laughter under his fingertips. Oh how he’s missed the sound of her laughter. Y/N squirms beneath his grip, and seconds later she manages to twist around so she’s on top of him, pinning his arms back behind his head, a triumphant smirk on her face.

He’s sure he must be staring at her in awe because she says, “Don’t look so surprised. I learned a thing or two from Morgan’s self-defense seminar.”

“And so you did. I guess that means I shouldn’t worry when I’m away – you can clearly handle yourself.”

“Mmm. But I’m glad you’re home.” She’s properly straddling him now, and she leans down to kiss him, releasing his hands. A fact which he’s grateful for as it’s all the better to be able to cup her cheek and bring her closer to him. Her lips are sweet and when she slips her tongue into his mouth he swears he could just melt then and there.

“See?” Reid says between kisses. “The Grand Canyon could never make me feel this way.”

“Oh I should hope not,” she says, rolling her hips against him. He tries to stifle a moan. “Because we might need to have a conversation about that.”  

“Nothing could ever make me feel the way you do,” he replies. “Who decided it should be a Wonder anyways? It’s just a lot of rock with a river at the bottom.”

Reid presses his lips to her neck, feeling her pulse with every kiss. It takes her a long minute to formulate a response. “I hear it’s nice at sunset. And the topography is quite pretty.” Hours ago he was there at the edge and there was something about its grandeur that made him feel so small. But he’s certain that the sun sinking over it would have nothing on the way she looks in the glow of the evening. And he is far more interested in studying the peaks and valleys of her body than of any canyon. A canyon doesn’t respond beneath your fingertips. Doesn’t sigh in a way that fills you with longing. Doesn’t look at you like with eyes that put the desert stars to shame.

She loosens his tie, unbuttons his shirt to run her hand over the skin of his chest. He sits up to shrug off the rest of it, bringing her with him. Then she’s kissing his shoulder while his hands find their way under the hem of her dress in search of skin of her lower back to hold her tighter against him.

Her fingers are deliciously tangled in his hair while his mouth moves past her collarbone when she asks, “Is this okay?”

“Very much so,” he hums, completely content.

Reid carefully pulls her dress up over her head, one of the straps getting caught on her ear as he does so.

“What do you think should be a Wonder?” she asks as she helps him disentangle the fabric. The dress is quickly discarded on the floor, joining his shirt and her book which has long since fallen over the edge of the bed.

“I’d have to think about that.” He’s a little breathless now as she flicks open his belt, her palm pressed against his growing erection. It seems he can’t manage to remove his trousers fast enough. “The Peabody Library? The Northern Lights. Colada Coffee.” The coffee shop down the block from them that makes his coffee with as much sugar as he wants.

“All good choices,” she laughs. The contemporary brassiere remains one of the most frustrating articles of fashion in his opinion, and even now he struggles to undo the clasp of her bralette. “If I’d known you were going to be home so soon I would’ve put something a little sexier on.” The bralette is a nude lace number that doesn’t at all match her neon boyshorts but he doesn’t care. He’s too in love with her to concern himself with something so trivial, not when she’s looking up at him through her lashes like that.

“Are you kidding? There’s nothing sexier than this.” Finally managing to take off the bra, he lays her back against the mattress, hovering over her. “You should be a Wonder.” She laughs at that but her giggle gives way to a sigh as his mouth and hand finds her breasts. He gives each careful attention before trailing kisses down her stomach. Reid slides her brightly-colored underwear down her legs and adds it to the pile on the floor. He takes her in, letting his eyes roam over every inch of her as he positions himself at the end of the bed. “This is a much better view than any in Arizona.”

His lips are on her sex when she says, “That’s quite the yonic imagery, darling.” He can’t help but laugh, wondering how on earth he thought he could compare the Grand Canyon and a vulva without making that connection. The vibration of his laugh makes her writhe in pleasure.

He pulls away to look at her again. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

“I’m sure you have, but a little reminder never hurts,” she teases.

“Good. Because I have a five days of catching up to do.” He presses his lips to her inner thigh before returning his attention to the place she wants him most. It’s always hard to be away from her, especially for nearly a week at a time. During a case he misses every part of her. Her smile and the feeling of her hand in his and her jokes and moments like this that make the world fade away. A bed feels much emptier without her there. His heart isn’t quite complete when they’re apart. When she’s close he stops, and says, “Maybe the Great Barrier Reef.”

“The Louvre,” she counters, her breath hitched.

He returns to his arduous ministrations, only to do the same thing again. “Stonehenge.”

“What’s the purpose of it, anyways?”

He traces lazy circles over her hips. “It’s most likely a calendar or some sort of ceremonial religious site.” His boxer briefs feel incredibly tight over his straining cock, but just wants to make her feel good right now.

“Or maybe it’s a sex thing,” Y/N offers.

He laughs. “You know, it’s entirely possible. We humans are simple creatures. I mean I’m barely home five minutes and I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“I have no complaints,” she says as he places his head between her thighs once more.

And again he pulls away to say, “The chicken-fried lobster at Binion’s.”

“Okay, now I have a complaint because you’re just being mean.” But she smiles as she says it and for a moment he wants nothing more than to capture the memory of that smile, her checks flushed, her chest rising and falling, her hair a mess.

“Sorry,” he says, grinning. He crawls back up to kiss her forehead. “I just wanted to make this last.”

“Your stamina, that’s one of the Wonders of the World.” She strokes his cheek tenderly. “But I’m almost there, Spencer.”

The sound of his name on her lips is like music. He knows he won’t last long either. Reid fumbles briefly in the nightstand for a condom and then there’s no more distance between them. Just warmth and the way her eyes crinkle as they continue to make each other giggle between soft groans, and he can’t think of anything more wonderful than this.

And then there is release, for both of them. An end to the heat. A honey-sweet high. They lie side by side in bed and he pulls her close to his chest, cherishing the sensation of her skin against his, the smell of her perfume mixed with sweat and sex. With her, he is finally home. The love he has for her is deeper than the Colorado River could ever run. It’s bottomless, infinite.

She kisses his lips, briefly. “I didn’t get the chance to ask you about the case,” she says.

He slowly trails his fingers up and down her spine. “Everything was okay. We found the hostages in time, and for one everybody lived happily ever after.”

“I’m so glad. And that certainly explains why you’re in such a good mood.” Heavier cases have a habit of bringing him back to her a little quieter, a little less spontaneous.

“A little bit,” he admits. “But mostly I’m just happy to see you.” It’s getting harder and harder to be away from her, and he has a sense that the sun may be setting on this chapter of his life. He loves the job. For years it’s been his whole world. That was before her, though. Now his world is tucked under his chin, safe in his arms, and teasing him about the fact he’d call coffee a wonder of the world. He doesn’t want nightmares to consume his days anymore. He wants time with her, laughing and reading and building a home together. He wants a family with her. Children running around in the backyard. Maybe even a dog or a cat. A whole life with her.

Because there’s nobody else in the world who makes him feel so wonderful, wonder-filled. And he wonders if there will ever be words enough to tell her just how much he loves her.

[needletail]

Nintendogs vs Nintendogs + Cats: a review and comparison.

There’s no doubt that most people want a new Nintendogs game for the Nintendo Switch. But when I see these posts, very few of them are referencing the 3ds variant of the game, but rather the original ds version that everyone continues to know and love.

The addition of cats is Nintendogs + Cats’ most notable feature. It was, while cute and fun for a short period of time, notably worse than its predecessor. But why is that? The formula stayed roughly the same, but the charm didn’t quite hit.

Before we dive into this: these are my opinions on the games, and personal comparisons. Every person experiences things differently, and will likely have different opinions.

We can start with breaking down the original Nintendogs. The graphics have not aged well, but the charm and entertainment factor have. While replaying, I found that the general ambience and the music used endeared me further to the game, and I wanted to play more. The half hour timer on going for walks was frustrating (as was the stamina system), but it otherwise engaged me more to figure out where I wanted to go. The map feels surprisingly big with so much to do, and the side-scrolling walk screen keeps the mystery alive in what you’ll encounter. The competitions were fun and the voice recognition system may have been even better than the 3ds incarnation. The only thing that really suffered were the graphics - but this game is 15 years old and this was advanced for its time, so we can let that slide. The dogs can be a little strange to look at at times, but they’re expressive and distinct, which is what matters in a pet simulator.

The information you can take in is optional, but an exciting part of the game for those who are interested. Your dog’s profile is detailed but easy to understand, going as far as to tell you what it ate last. There’s something so charming about it being displayed as if it were a document you had in front of you - it brings another element of immersion into this sim.

[Image ID: a photograph of the informational sheet on Nintendogs. It includes the name, gender, breed, trainer, time together, coat, hunger, thirst, and things eaten. The trick list and contest results are also on this screen.] 

From cars passing by to horns in the distance and dog barks from somewhere vaguely nearby, the sound design of Nintendogs is audibly aged, but still strong. The few tracks spread in the game are iconic, and stay in my head a lot longer than I’d like to admit. 

The competitions are another huge highlight of the original nintendogs. The banter between the hosts, Ted and Archie, is something that continues to be remembered. Everyone’s seen the line “you make me feel like a man, Archie”, and the banter they keep up in each competition is less like a mindless tapping chore and just more entertainment. The settings are surprisingly realistic - less so on the obedience, but the ring set up for agility certainly is. The balance between realism and fun is another part of why Nintendogs appealed to all audiences. 

Agility is my personal favourite event, and the same goes for a lot of people I’ve met. There’s a level of interactivity here that isn’t met by the successor (something we’ll touch on later). Guiding your dog over hurdles and through tunnels, and later having to balance speed with accuracy - it’s an event that keeps you, the player, engaged. It becomes a sort of fine art once you hit the Championship level, as your dog, by that point, is likely going to be very fast and have a mind of its own, often trying to predict which obstacles it’s going to go through. 

[Image ID: an angled photograph of the starter agility training course. The dog is laying on the green, and the hurdles and tunnels are in view.] 

Disc is in both versions, and is fun in its own way. I, personally, don’t tend to use the disc competition - in the original Nintendogs, the projectiles can be a little speedier than you intend them to be, and the dogs are a little too determined to hold onto their toys. But, with a well-trained dog, this event can be as fun as anything else. In the original, you didn’t have to contend with the other dogs - something that I’ve grown to appreciate over the years. But, like with the event that removed Agility, I’ll be looking at how the changes fared later. 

Obedience is held on a stage, and is a fun event for people who take the time to train their dogs. Your dog can typically learn three or four tricks a day (depending on the dog), and between the tricks listed in the Obedience Guide Book and the unlisted tricks that your dog can learn, you can usually blow the competition out of the park. It definitely requires the most time and effort out of all of the events, and it can be frustrating if your dog suddenly stops listening - but the rewards are surprisingly good. It’s always fun to have a well-trained Nintendog, if only because showing them off when I was a child was my favourite thing to do. 

Obviously, competitions are the main money-makers in these games. Tackle a solid few of them, and you’ll find yourself able to afford another dog or two. Though your room is limited to three dogs, there’s also a Hotel to keep some other dogs in. As time progresses and you gain more of a bond with your dog(s), you’ll unlock more breeds. 

Something that went over my head when I was a child was the method to unlock Jack Russells, specifically. You need to find an incredibly rare book - something which I don’t ever recall doing, and still haven’t. I found this information via the wikia, so I’m not too sure how accurate is, but it is an interesting breed to lock behind a time and patience-based method. 

[Image ID: an angled image of a German Shepherd laying on its side. In the corner is an idea bubble.] 

Overall, Nintendogs is a solid and fun pet simulator, and it’s clear why so many people have such good memories. The dogs are filled with personality (even being expressive enough to show you when they’re angry vs happy), the competitions are engaging, and though the format will become stale after playing daily for a long time, it’s always a fun game to come back to after a period of time. 

Which is why it’s unsurprisingly that it gained a sequel.

I remember being ecstatic when Nintendogs + Cats was shown in advertisements on television. When I got the 3ds, I also got a copy of Nintendogs + Cats. The Golden Retriever version, specifically, but I do own all three. For some reason? As people got bored with it, they usually gifted me them. 

At first blush, it’s almost as charming as the original. The graphics style handles much better than the original, with slightly more realistic movements, and less cardboard-y models. I much prefer the Nintendogs + Cats models to the originals, for obvious reasons - though their movements can be a little repetitive and strange at times, and a lot less expressive than the originals. But that said, I much prefer the Kennel system of petting and exploring the dogs and their behaviours (limited as they are) before you adopt, and I enjoy sorting through colours or getting unique colours/patterns. The rare white variants used to be my obsession, as a child. 

[Image ID: a german shepherd holding a present in Nintendogs + Cats. The model is significantly better than the original Nintendogs model.] 

Immediately, though, there’s a lot less ambience in Nintendogs + Cats. I play with my volume up all the way, and it’s typically just my dogs and cat making noises. I miss the cars going by and the general background noise that the game can provide. It feels just a little too silent, and the music tracks are repetitive and unmemorable for the most part. Obviously sound design don’t make or break the game, so I won’t harp on this point for too long. 

The gameplay is...fine? I’m not a fan of petting a shadow of my dog, but I understand they did that for 3D purposes (something which most people didn’t use, to the point that the 2DS was made. I play on a 2DS). The camera control is an incredibly nice feature to have, the showering minigame is a little more thorough. They didn’t really add anything to the care features, though. If anything, they took away a lot of experiences - reading the care books and instead guiding you through the tricks one by one instead of as you want, forcing you to learn a specific set of tricks before you can move on to the next ones. The game is far more hand-holdy, which can be frustrating at multiple points. But, hey. There’s cats! Let’s talk about the cats. 

What’s their purpose? Not much. Which is fine, although they take up a slot in your three-pet designation. As cute as the cats are, they definitely got done dirty. There’s three selections to choose from (Standard, Oriental, and Long-hair), with multiple colours, but not much depth beyond that. Obviously, the cats were just a cute addition - I do like having my little cat wandering around the house with my two dogs, and I know from past experiences that once you bond with the cat, it’ll go out and get presents for you if you leave your ds on. Gaining affection with the cats is very slow-going and if you’re someone who likes your pet simulations to be more interactive, it might be wiser to stick with the dogs. I’m not complaining against the addition of cats - it just could’ve been done much smoother, with better mechanics enabled. Be it adding some breeds and a proper grooming minigame to maintain them, or the ability to train them but have them be much harder than the dogs. There were many ways to put cats into the game, and I just don’t think they hit as intended. 

So, how did they do with the competitions? Well. 

The short answer: they’re pretty bland, and a downgrade from the original.  The long answer... 

[Image ID: a white cocker spaniel chewing on a banana lure.] 

In the competitions, there’s no more Ted/Archie banter. It’s just Ted. Doing his thing. I honestly do not read the text for this game, and instead tap quickly to progress to the events. 

Replacing Agility comes Lure Coursing. I’m not sure about other countries, but that’s an incredibly niche section of dog sporting here, and it’s also notorious for being...very boring. And in the game, it lives up to that. Instead of guiding your dog through obstacles, you wind the cog of a lure and honk it to get the dog to follow it. Sometimes you honk it to get them over hurdles. I have to admit, I usually space out when I’m training my dogs with this - it’s an easy moneymaker once you’ve trained them up to Nintendogs Cup level, but it’s easily the most mind-numbing event. Anything would’ve been better. If they didn’t want to implement Agility, there are other dog sports that could’ve suited well; guiding your dog through the Flyball course and using its name to bring it back until it could do it on command (maybe even utilising a team of three, for reason as to why you can have up to three dogs), or sledding, using your dog to pull a lightweight sled (on wheels) through a course in a race against other dogs (or, again, even using your trio). There could have even been scenting sport in which you teach your dog how to scent and go off to find a mark, or herding. The point is: lure coursing is the most unengaging thing to put in a game. 

The Disc competition barely changes, so I won’t say much. I don’t particularly enjoy having the other dogs in the ring to compete with as it becomes all too easy for them to interfere heavily with your own dog, but I understand why it was implemented and know that a lot of people enjoy it. I prefer the throwing speed and the control you can have over the disc, and will admit that overall, the Disc competition is generally improved. 

But then you come to the Obedience Trial. AR Cards are mandatory. You don’t have a surface to put your AR Cards on, or lost them years ago? Then you can’t do it. I actually ordered AR Cards, having thrown out my old ones due to damages and general...lack of use. As of this post, I have been unable to play the Obedience Trial, so I can’t say much on whether the system has improved. I do know that AR Cards can work on a laptop screen or something similar, but the 3ds camera is pretty horrible and can glitch out, making it unreliable for screen-based AR cards. Unfortunately. 

[Image ID: a white cocker spaniel standing on an AR Card.]

The walking system is fine. I love being able to go to different routes (as limited as they can be - but the original was no saint to repetitiveness once you knew the whole map), and I like having to go between grass patches, with a chance for a surprise present. I think the addition of the BARC stores are a cute touch, and the Miis walking their own dogs are cute, too. The interactions between your dog and theirs is based on your dog’s personality as well as theirs, which makes sense - but there’s basically three outcomes. More than the original, but meeting with other dogs tends to be to see if you can backtrack when you’re near the end of the walk by having them invite you to the cafe or park, or to get presents from Streetpass miis. I like the cone minigame to test your control over the dog and its leash, and as a rule, I just...like it. It’s relaxing. I don’t prefer it over the original, but I don’t prefer the original over it. They both have their benefits and downfalls. The biggest upside to + Cats’ system is that you can take your dog on as many walks as you want. 

Interactivity isn’t really a thing, with + Cats. Whereas in the original you could legitimately piss off your dog and it would bark and snarl at you for a while before you regained its trust, this game doesn’t punish you for much. I poked and prodded at my dog for a while, and it didn’t really do much for me. This is a game where you sort of just have cute looking models that hold up surprisingly well for their time, and that’s it. There’s not much game to the game, as it were - and that’s from a game where the gameplay was limited as it was. 

Adding multiple accessories to your pets is a very nice addition, albeit expected. Overall, though, the gameplay has been significantly dumbed down and while I understand that kids play it, my generation played Nintendogs as small children and we got by just fine. It’s a very intuitive game, and it’s almost insulting how little Nintendogs + Cats thinks of its audience. 

Another nice addition to Nintendogs + Cats, though, is body type for your pets. There’s a few that your pet can be: underfed, skinny, optimal, plump, and overfed. I usually have optimal dogs, but apparently plump and overfed dogs run slower and as such they do poorer in competitions, which is a pretty neat feature to have in-game. 

In the short of it, Nintendogs + Cats is fine, but Nintendogs (the original) is Good. I have a lot more nostalgia for Nintendogs which may cloud my opinion, but playing it in 2020 is still fun, and I’m especially happy to play the Agility competition.

For an interactive pet simulator with fun competitions and plenty to do, Nintendogs is the way to go.  For a pretty enough game with simplistic gameplay, Nintendogs + Cats is the way to go. 

Both games have their perks, but I certainly have a clear favourite. If a Switch edition of Nintendogs ever happened, I’d much prefer the original style with some of the quality of life changes made in the successor. In the end, it’s all up to what you’re looking for in a game - but as someone who’s looking for a fun time, I’m a sucker for the originals. 

(Note: I have not played the knock-off Nintendogs for Switch, and would appreciate input on if it’s worth buying or not. Reviews are poor at best, as far as I can tell, though.) 

[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

Death Stranding: A Love Letter

Death Stranding, we’ve been waiting for you for a long time and to be honest there were times where we thought, we’re never getting this game, it just isn’t going to happen. I had this game on pre-order for over 2 years. 2 YEARS! The expectation level was obviously very high, and from my perspective it firmly... delivers. 

WARNING - SPOILER ALERT - This is a review/breakdown by someone who’s finished the game, for people who have finished the game. You have been warned!

Death Stranding revels in it’s cinematic credentials constantly and with intense consistency. From panoramic mountainous vistas which you can control, to dazzling close ups of it’s digitally recreated stars, to just watching Sam go to his Private Room. It’s stunning and a testament to Kojima's cinematic knowledge with every shot. 

Not only does Death Stranding handle this beauty, and intricate world building and story telling with ease and grace; it’s concepts and emotional ideas (which I’ll go into more later) are translated so strongly that you can’t help but get swept up in it. This is the sort of experience that I’m used to getting from films, who embed this framework within their narratives so deeply, in a way it’s expected. Death Stranding hits you like a freight train. Through the power of the performances, the narrative and the fresh nature of the ideas it’s portraying. 

Death Stranding’s emotive credentials are set firmly in 2 scales, the more typical big stuff, saving the world, stopping the extinction, well trodden video game territory. But where it truly sets itself apart, embodied so perfectly when Sam walks away from Die-Hardman’s Inauguration speech, and sets to surprise is in how it handles what could be argued to be the smaller scale stuff. 

Sam’s emotional world is rich and powerful, from his Aphenphosmphobia to the fact that we see him openly weep and break down holding a crying child. This is a male lead in a video game, and as a woman I loved seeing Sam being so vulnerable, to the point where he’s physically naked in those shots (ssshhh, there are academic reasons too.) It’s fresh and poignant, and as a woman it gives me access to media rejecting the male gaze so completely. 

On the notion of the Male Gaze, there is some stuff to unpick about the game’s female characters, as much as I would have loved to have seen more, with some ethnic diversity also, it doesn’t subject it’s women to typical video game stereotypes. The creators of the network (whatever it’s true intentions) are all women, Amelie found the path through the country to place the terminals, with the hardware and software created by Mama and Lockne respectively. This network is recognized as the saviour of humanity, the only male input is Sam connecting the terminals with the Q-pid, a Q-pid created by Mama and Lockne. Fragile is the only character powerful enough to get Sam and all the other characters to where they need to go through her DOOMs. I think the shows opinion on Male Gaze is shown in the story, when Fragile is using Sam’s shower, and Sam moves to the glass, his intention is to see her timefall damaged skin, but Sam is punished for it by Fragile as he questions her motives, she’s aggressive and she puts him thoroughly in his place for it. I love love love the physical powerplay in this scene between them. 

Sam is reluctant, profoundly unhappy, arguably suicidal, and is convinced to do all of this purely to help save his friend. Sam is a constant reminder that there is so much more at play here, drilled home every time he flinches away or holds Lou in his hands. Although there is a world to save, it can be for nothing unless you save yourself too. Sam and Fragile’s final discussion brings this home. Before leaving to stop Amelie Sam is full of hope, but in losing Lou, he does a 180, he’s just a man getting to the next sun rise. Something I’m sure a lot of people can identify with. 

This narrative nuance is reflected in Cliff. Through the memories we’re shown a man just trying to save his child, not the world, not willing to sacrifice his child to be made into the activation code for a city, no matter the cause. He just wants to be a father and that is his driving force. Mads Mikkelsen was my gateway into this particular world, safe to say I have an intense soft spot for him. I can go on all damn day about how talented he is. He’s the best in the business, no one does what he can, no one else can give a performance that is so real and so raw but so full of fight. Mads can take the your most profound story line, otherworldly in it’s extreme, and he embeds it so firmly in the human experience, you’ll never be able to untangle that web. That is why his ability to do what he does can almost never be questioned. You let him get to the heart of your story and that is what he’ll do to it and that is why it works. Mads Mikkelsen could easily have been Higgs, based on early trailers we suspected he was Higgs, but he isn’t. Could not be further from it. 

Death Stranding’s narrative dichotomy in this way is resembled perfectly in the games two ‘Boss’ characters, Cliff and Higgs. Higgs represents the greater plan, the end of the world stuff, and Cliff the smaller scale human to human emotion. Sam must overcome both. 

Death Stranding has an even wider scope, an even wider message. Kojima hasn’t been shy about his message of connection being prominent and poignant in the current political climate, being from the UK I feel this so keenly, but the same is present in the US as well. Humanity driven further apart, through legislation, walls and boarders. You can see the potence of the message being translated through a video game, when alternate reality, video game violence and social media is being blamed for these things. It’s fighting back in a way. Death Stranding’s gameplay is full of positivity, from the signs that other players can leave you that replenish your stamina, make your BB happy, to the fact that if you knock a MULE out in water they have a neck float so they don’t drown and die. 

The lack of violence in this way and use of ‘non-lethal’ guns, which are described as such, were again refreshing. I’m not a first person shooter gamer, never have been, could not be less appealing to me if it tried. But Death Stranding doesn’t just have a gun aversion, to me it is explicitly anti-gun. Again another important message, particularly when the game is set in the US. One of my favourite moments in the whole game is Sam listening to Die-Hardman’s grovelling apology for his actions, his thoughts and his prayers, only for Sam to shove the gun Die-Hardman brought to the Beach back at him, warning him with disgust at his actions, by passing on the message, “that gun won’t work here” and walking away. I completed a video game without taking a single human life. It rejects the notion so fully and completely. You stop the extinction, save humanity, not with a gun but by hugging Amelie, reminding her about how valuable human life is, every human life. It’s not to be thrown away, you need to give it a chance to bloom.

In Death Stranding humanity is left cowering underground, separated by an invisible enemy in the form of BT’s, it has to learn to fight back, with literal blood, sweat and tears. If you couple the notion of the invisible enemy with Bring Me the Horizon’s ‘Ludens’ Lyrics:

Sticks and stones may break my bones but soon the sting will pass But names can dig so many graves, you won't know where to stand

I love this line. (BMTH wrote that song in 5 days to get it into the game in time, by the way!) As children we’re taught that names shouldn’t hurt us, but actually they do. In a time where the effects of racism, sexism, homophobia, all of this “name calling” are putting people in their actual graves, these lyrics should be heard more keenly. Political leaders put people in their graves with their words, through direct or indirect means. These words are the BTs of our world, invisible hands which destroy people.

Some of the criticisms of the game are based on elements of game play, like the deliveries you need to make, as slow and tiresome. Higgs himself addresses this asking whether you’re tired of the grind, begging for a “game over”? 

The game is not only acutely aware that perhaps trudging all over the US with vast cargo loads isn’t what you want to be doing, but it knows it’s what you need to do. And truly, in what way is that different from shooting your way through levels and scenarios to get to the end? Death Stranding makes you feel the sacrifice Sam is making and you experience that with him, every time you fall and drop your cargo, every time you stumble down a mountain side, every time you wreck your stamina bar climbing an incline. Video games can’t really make you feel what it’s like to kill an enemy soldier with an air strike, but hell it can make you feel frustrated at having to climb another mountain with a boat load of heavy gear. 

Death Stranding rejects the idea of a ‘game over’ and other video game staples in other ways, it mockingly calls Higgs and Cliffs narrative end “Boss fights” and when Deadman says that wiping Lou’s memories, her connection with Sam in order to make her work better than a piece of equipment is just a ‘do-over’ a reset, normal, Sam rejects that it’s not that simple and Norman’s performance brings that home acutely. It’s not just a game. 

From style, to message, to performance, to rejection of the Male Gaze, Death Stranding is an intense and beautiful game. It managed to hook me so thoroughly (as I’m sure you’ve been able to tell from my live tweeting/blogging) and I don’t imagine I’ll get the hook out of my heart for a while. It speaks to something higher and I love it for it.

Keep On Keeping On.

[rogueptoridactyl]

Detective Midoriya - Prologue

Masterlist  

There were a few rules that Yagi Toshinori was still struggling to instill into his students, rules that seemed so trivial and mundane that it seemed a bit ludicrous that heroes had to learn it in the first place. The first was to take every task seriously, no matter how trivial it may have seemed. Young Bakugou especially struggled with that one, giving up on a task once it was completed to his satisfaction, or if it was deemed trivial, he often would make matters worse.

The second rule was to be mindful of your stamina. This was a bittersweet lesson for Toshinori, because it was his disregard for this rule that left him with only an hour of hero time each day. He saw the same tendencies in a few of his students, such as young Kirishima and young Satoa.

Finally, the third and most important rule was to always be aware of your surroundings. Ashido probably struggled the most with this, and Toshinori was struggling to find a way to teach the girl the rule before someone else had to pay the price of her inattention.

These rules were cycling through Toshinori’s mind when he woke up. After enough years of dealing with crime, a person gets almost a sixth sense for it. When Toshinori woke up that day, he could feel it in his bones that something bad was going to happen.

He was already calculating how much hero work he would be able to accomplish, but a lot of it depended on luck. Toshinori just hoped that he would have time left when it was needed.

Distracted by his worrying, Toshinori didn't notice the dip in the sidewalk. He barely managed to catch himself from falling, but the papers in his hands were not nearly as lucky.

Cursing under his breath, Toshinori moved to gather the papers, but a pair of freckled hands were already collecting them for him. Toshinori looked up to see a pair of bright green eyes that looked vaguely familiar, eyes that held far too much recognition for Toshinori’s comfort.

Wordlessly the boy shoved the papers into the hero’s hands and scrambled away, giving Toshinori a better view of the retreating figure. He was short, and clearly still a teenager, wearing a dirty hoodie over ripped jeans. Everything about him screamed that he was a hoodlum. The boy’s appearance combined with Toshinori’s uneasiness put the man on even higher alert. Something told him that that boy would have a hand in whatever was going to unfold.

Throughout the day, he would have described the anxiety plaguing him as a pit in his stomach if he still had a stomach. His teaching suffered because of it, and young Bakugou wasn’t shy about telling him so. Luckily it wasn’t just Toshinori, however, that felt off. No, a sense of looming danger hung over all the students in the hero course, one that the teachers felt even more acutely.

Toshinori was making a lot of the same mistakes he’d made his first year of teaching. Luckily his students had grown immensely since then and there weren’t any incidents.

They were in the middle of an exercise dealing with rescuing hostages when his phone rang. Seeing who was calling, Toshinori answered immediately.

“What is it, Tsukauchi?”

“We’ve got a huge fight, Toshinori,” the detective’s terse voice informed him. “I’ve got an undercover detective in the middle of it all, so I need you and whichever heroes you think are best for the job, now. This isn’t a job for your students.” With that, Tsukauchi hung up, only for a text message with an address to come through.

Swallowing thickly, the hero called Nedzu. Before the principal could even really answer, All Might said, “I need you to watch my class. There’s a situation that I was called in to.” After a few moments he added, “And Midnight and Eraserhead are needed as well.”

“Very well. I shall inform the other two and be there momentarily,” Nedzu responded. And sure enough, before Toshinori could do more than explain the situation to his class, Nedzu was already strolling into the room.

The pro-hero rushed to the parking lot where his truck waited, along with Aizawa and Nemuri. Luckily the two were okay with Toshinori’s breakneck pace, and Aizawa was a good navigator.

All Might knew he’d found the place when they drove up to a warehouse positively swarmed by police cars. Tsukauchi was pacing outside the warehouse looking more stressed than All Might had ever seen him.

Still in the truck, Toshinori transformed into his hero persona. Looking at Aizawa and Nemuri respectively, he could tell that all three heroes were ready for whatever came.

They moved towards Tsukauchi uniformly, ready to be debriefed. Toshinori tried to keep his surprise from showing- the man was fretting.

Turning to the heroes, Tsukauchi said, “We have no idea what the situation is inside, we lost contact with out undercover detective. There’s over fifty people inside, most if not all with extensive criminal records. Be vigilant. Don’t get my boy killed.”

All Might shivered at the emotions in the detective’s voice before accepting an ear piece from Aizawa.

“I’ll go in first,” he was saying. “I’ll keep you all updated on the situation so we don’t just make it worse.”

The other two nodded and Aizawa was gone, disappearing into the warehouse. Toshinori stationed himself by one of the doors, fully prepared to burst in at a moment’s notice. Then, he listened.

“Okay, I’m getting close to the main fight. It doesn’t sound as violent as I expected,” crackled Aizawa’s voice. “I’ll have a visual soon.”

All Might whispered the update to Tsukauchi, whose stress was palpable. Both men stood at attention, not daring to speak.

“They’re at a ceasefire,” Aizawa said. “The two leaders are already talking things over to end it all without bloodshed. It’s all because of some kid with green hair.”

Upon hearing that information, Tsukauchi breathed in a sigh of relief. “I don’t know how the kid does it.”

“I’m guessing the kid is our undercover detective. He’s amazing, he’s gotten everyone to stop fighting but he still hasn’t blown his cover,” came Aizawa’s voice. All Might couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. The two were going on three years of teaching together, and he had never heard the man give such high praise to anyone.

“I take it he’s one of yours?” All Might asked Tsukauchi in a low voice.

“Our youngest detective yet,” the man said proudly. “Midoriya is the best analytical mind we have. It’s a good thing his mother doesn’t want to move, or he would’ve been poached by some other district already. Offers are still pouring in for him.”

“What kind of quirk does he have? He seems to have handled this all incredibly smoothly,” All Might said curiously.

“He’s actually quirkless,” Tsukauchi said blandly. “Years ago he had his heart set on being a hero but apparently he was involved in an incident. He tried to help out, but the pros just berated him and one even told him to keep his dreams attainable. It honestly almost broke the kid, but whoever that hero was made one of the biggest mistakes of their lives. Midoriya may be quirkless, but he’s one of the most determined and skilled people I’ve ever met.”

A chill ran down All Might’s spine as he remembered an incident years ago with a scrawny green haired boy. Was it his words that had nearly broken the child? Surely that couldn’t have been the boy that had just impressed Eraserhead so deeply. He was far too young to be a detective, if All Might remembered correctly. Where was that child? Toshinori probably should have kept better tabs on the boy who knew his secret.

Aizawa’s voice broke All Might from his ponderings. “Send in Midnight. If she’s stealthy enough we should get this resolved with minimal injury,.

“Got it. I’m coming in,” Midnight said into the earpiece. Shortly after, however, Aizawa gasped.

“What’s going on,Eraserhead?” Toshinori demanded.

“Someone’s using their quirk. I can’t find them, and--”

The audio was overtaken by static, confirming the feeling in Toshinori’s gut that everything was going too well. “Eraserhead? Eraserhead! Midnight?”

All Might could feel his heart slamming in his chest. When neither hero answered him. Toshinori said, “Someone’s using their quirk in there, I’m going in.”

Tsukauchi moved to protest, but All Might was already barrelling through the doors with his signature laugh and catchphrase. It was just then that the earpiece started working again. “-mit All Might, we almost had it,” Eraserhead was hissing.

All Might didn’t know what all the fuss was about as the situation seemed to be in hand. Thanks to Midnight’s quirk almost all the men were unconscious, and those that weren’t were swiftly rendered useless by Eraserhead.

“A job well done, fellow heroes,” All Might said with a booming laugh, a laugh loud enough to cover the sound of a gun being cocked.

“MOVE!” A young voice called before something collided into Toshinori, jolting the man before a gunshot rang across the warehouse.

Static seemed to fill Toshinori’s ears as he felt time slow down. The thing, or person, rather, who had collided with Toshinori collapsed onto the hero, something warm and wet seeping onto him. Looking down, Toshinori found a head of green hair that contrasted with the blood that was beginning to cover both him and the boy who had just taken a bullet for the Number One Hero.

Coughing wetly, the boy almost fell to the ground before Toshinori remembered himself and caught the boy, gently lowering him to the ground. In the background he heard the telltale sounds of Midnight taking care of the gunman. But right now, the boy’s life depended on Toshinori’s assistance. For the first time in years, Toshinori wished that he had his cape, any loose fabric he could rip off to staunch the bleeding. As it was, he had no option but to use his massive hands to press down on the boy’s abdomen, praying to some higher power that he was helping. But the boy’s breath was still coming out as violent gasps of air, his green eyes darting around, unseeing. All Might’s stomach sank as he recognized those same green eyes and freckles he’d been wary of that same morning.

“What was that gunshot?” Tsukauchi demanded, rushing in after Toshinori. Seeing the boy on the ground, the man froze before growling, “I want restraints on every person in here that isn’t one of us. We need an ambulance NOW!”

All Might flinched at the ferocity in his old friend’s voice. Police officers poured in, complying with the man’s every order, though many hardened upon seeing the boy in Toshinori’s arms.

Orders given, Tsukauchi collapsed beside the boy, ripping off his jacket to try and staunch the bleeding, which was infinitely more helpful than Toshinori’s hands.

“Midoriya, stay with me,” the detective begged. “Just keep breathing.”

Finally those green eyes found something to focus on as the boy looked up, latching onto the form of the older detective. When he did speak, the wheezes were barely recognizable as words.

“Trying to… sir,” the boy said, pausing to cough. To their horror, drops of blood sprayed out with each cough. “Just… in case, tell… Mom… love her.”

“Kid, I order you not to die,” Tsukauchi said seriously, pressing even harder on his jacket. “I will not explain this to your mother. You have to keep fighting.”

“You know… always follow… orders,” Midoriya rasped, quirking his lips into the barest trace of a smile before his eyelids fluttered shut.

Toshinori swallowed thickly, feeling like this was somehow his fault. The bullet had been meant for him, he knew, and this child had intercepted it-- and based on their interaction, this child was Tsukauchi’s detective.

There were fundamental rules that are so logical that one wouldn’t think that heroes needed to learn them. The third and most important rule pounded through his head, and he could practically hear the voices of his students critiquing him the same way that they would critique one another in an exercise.

“Why was there anyone still awake to attack?” Aizawa would ask in that steely voice.

Iida and Yaoyorozu would fight to analyze the situation first, but in the end Yaoyorozu would win. “There hadn’t been sufficient time for Midnight’s quirk to fully spread throughout the room, and All Might’s entrance brought in more air flow to disperse her quirk, allowing the villains to further resist. When he mistakenly thought the situation was taken care of, he made enough noise to allow the villains the element of surprise.”

“And which rule was broken?” Aizawa would ask, staring Toshinori down so he would know exactly what he had done.

“Ooh, I know!” Ashido would shout, jumping up and down. “It’s my rule, the third and most important rule!”

Toshinori had let his guard down, foolishly unaware of his surroundings. And just as he always warned his students, All Might was not the one who paid the price. Indeed, instead it was paid by his closest friend’s protege.

Note: 

This fic is posted on both Ao3 and Fanfic.net. I’ve been thinking about potentially posting them on here for a while, and I figure now is as good a time as any. I don’t know how consistently I’ll post them on here, but you’re welcome to find them either place if you want to keep reading. If you want to be tagged, just leave a comment! 

[famedexclusivearchive]

[INTERVIEW] Byul talks role in Mr. Sunshine

Soloist Byul is most well-known for her many chart-topping singles and long-lasting career in the music industry, but she’s also begun to branch out into acting from time to time over the past eight years. Most recently, Byul has starred as the female lead, Go Aeshin, in tvN’s Mr. Sunshine. Exclusive got to have the first interview with Byul about her latest role. Read what she had to say below!

Why did you choose Mr. Sunshine as the next project to continue your acting career?

“I know this will sound cliche but Mr. Sunshine chose me. I don’t mean that I was cast right off the bat to play Go Aeshin, I mean that the moment I received the script and broke night reading it through, I felt drawn to the story and its characters. I knew that an opportunity arrived for me to prove myself again and I was reluctant to let it slip away. Mr. Sunshine rekindled the passion I have for acting and ignited it in such a way that I felt torched from inside out. It might have been presumptuous of me at the time, but I knew Mr. Sunshine would knock me off my feet and change my life — and it did.”

How did you prepare for playing the role of Go Aeshin?

“I met with my costars often to do dry runthroughs of the script together. It’s one thing to have an ensemble cast — I was very blessed to be acting with veterans with a wealth of knowledge and expertise and patience to guide me — and it’s another entirely to have us all come together to bring the characters to life. I wanted the bonds, the relationships, the chemistry between us all to transition from paper to the screen. I wanted it to feel alive and real, as though our characters were living, breathing people. To ensure that I brought my best to the table, I stepped up on improving myself physically. Go Aeshin may have been a noblewoman but she’s also a rebel who deals in the dark with her rifle in hand and wearing righteousness on her sleeve. I built up my stamina by jogging regularly a few months before we officially started filming and went to the shooting range to learn how to shoot a rifle, so that I would learn not to flinch at the kickback and handle in a way that seemed natural. I rented hanboks and wore them around the house for several weeks to relearn how to walk in them - every step, every glide, every subtle movement meant for elegance, nobility. I visited my professors and relearned the cadence of old words, how to wrap my tongue around them, how to breathe life into them and make them my own. The more time I spent preparing for Mr. Sunshine, the more I fell in love with becoming Go Aeshin.”

How does the role of Go Aeshin compare to roles you’ve played in the past?

“All of my previous roles possessed a lot of heart - women who rose from ashes to become the phoenixes they are, eager to fight for what they believed in regardless of consequences. Go Aeshin on paper looked like she had everything, despite living in tumultuous times. But there was pain there - a shadow of something darker; a yearning to right wrongs and a loyalty that ran in her blood. She saw injustices being done - a world ruled by power and those with money and she wanted no part of it. She lived for a just world - a world of peace where her and her people did not have to suffer and be ravaged. Aeshin refused to be complacent and chose danger - chose to risk her life and livelihood for the sake of the people. It’s admirable how brave she is in that regard - despite knowing that what could await her in the end was death - hers, her country’s, and everyone she loves.”

Were there any unique challenges that came with acting in a drama set in the early twentieth century?

“For one, mastering the language. It took some revisiting and relearning for me to get used to shedding modern tongue and slip back into a language that has been abandoned by time. The set itself did a wonderful job in shaping the universe as every time I filmed a scene, I never forgot that I was no longer in the present but living in a different time.”

What was the most memorable scene for you to film?

“The train scene in the very last episode where Eugene and Aeshin are outnumbered in a shootout with Japanese soldiers and the subsequent realization that in order to survive, there must be a sacrifice. The moment Aeshin realized Eugene was saying goodbye and saving her, leaving himself to die, broke my heart. I will never forget how we spent hours filming this scene - playing with lighting, positioning, delivery of lines for the most impactful moment in the finale. It’s a testament to my costars, the production staff, the director and the writer to be able to distill all that action-packed adrenaline, heart-in-your-throat, and the sheer agony of a farewell on camera.”

What type of roles and dramas would you like to explore in the future?

“Maybe, an anti-heroine. Or a villainess. A character that walks in the grey, morally corrupt, but wholly intent on preserving their beliefs and doing anything they can to protect that. I would be grateful for any opportunity to show a different version of myself - be it as a lovelorn woman desperate to find answers to a lover’s mysterious disappearance or a single mom who’s baited into a game of lies and betrayal while finding her missing son; a college undergrad who was kidnapped and woke up a murder suspect, a lawless lawyer, a promising surgeon whose reputation crumbles after a high profile surgery goes wrong. There’s no shortage of roles and scripts out there and would be happy for a chance to do what I love.”

Why do you think people should watch Mr. Sunshine?

“It may be a fictional rewriting of history but it is history nonetheless. What drew me to Mr. Sunshine is, perhaps, the heart of the story: love, war, justice, rebellion; all intricately weaved to frame a portion of history that has had lasting effects to this day into a world where the righteous will always stand firm against the enemy. Never give up. Never stand down. We stand as one. We die as one. Watch for the wonderful interpersonal bonds created between the characters: how time can weather the storms of war and build loyalty, inspire action. As you would any drama, watch because it makes you remember, wonder, and feel.”

Do you have any other comments you’d like to make to your fans?

“Thank you to all my fans who have stayed by my side all these years. Your love and support has kept me going on days when I wanted to give up. Thank you to new fans who discovered me through Mr. Sunshine, I am happy to be able to meet you through Go Aeshin and hope that you will be by my side when I come back with a new and improved version of me. I am approaching twelve years and I would not have been able to reach where I am now without you all. Thank you so much, I love you. See you soon!”

[nyxdelanuit]

A  Dream In Red Ch3

A03

Kirishima’s arm felt tense under your hand. The two of you joined the remainder of the students in the middle of the gym and you reluctantly released his arm. Wait, reluctantly? You chided yourself, you had just met him and even though his toned arm felt nice under your fingers, you really- wait. You were doing it again. A swift shake of your head banished your current thoughts. Luckily, Kirishima stood quietly beside you, still seemingly frozen of embarrassment

Fatgum had followed momentarily, greeting the class with a below.

“Welcome to Stamina Training! As most of you already know, I’m Fatgum, the BMI Hero! MY quirk depends on me conserving my stamina and converting any energy stored into attacks. If I use too much energy, my body will revert to my smaller form, and my quirk becomes near useless. That’s why I have been chosen to help all of you figure out how to use your quirks efficiently! Today is going to be more of a laid back day, at least for me! I want all of you to pair off in teams of two and spar using your quirks. I will walk around and speak to you one on one about your quirks as the class goes on. And break!” Fatgum shooed the class away.

“So Y/N! Wanna wo-” Kirishima had turned to talk to you before a sharp man interjected himself between the two of you.

“Kirishima, you didn’t tell me you met such a cutie! What’s your name? I’m Testutestu Tetsutetsu! Why don’t we spar together? I’d spar with Kirishima, but our quirks are too similar.” The silver-haired man started to guide you away from Kirishima as he talked. You peered over your shoulder to catch Kirishima’s eye. He shrugged abashedly and mouthed ‘sorry’ at your retreating form. You shook your head with a chuckle before focusing on the blabbering man beside you.

“I’m F/N L/N!” You interrupted Tetsutetsu with a smile. “So what’s your quirk then? I didn’t quite get to ask Kirishima.” His eyes lit up as a metallic sheen overtook his skin. “I can quite literally steel my skin!” He cheered. As he tried to show off his quirk, your eyes roamed again to the redhead across the gym. He had paired up with a taller boy, and by the way they were interacting, it looked like they had known each other before. The sight made you miss Inasa, but Tetsutetsu interrupted your nostalgic thoughts.

“So what’s your quirk?” he excitedly peered at you, his face a little to close for your liking.

“Oh, I can make things with my mind and, um, I can kinda sense emotions and some thoughts if I try.” You were a bit nervous about disclosing this part of your quirk, as some people in your past had considered it intrusive.

“THAT’S SO RAD!” he cheered. His metal skin overtook his body and he slid seamlessly into a fighting pose. “Let’s do this!” With little preparation, the silver boy rushed towards you.

You knew you couldn’t let him get close, and you felt a fuzzy length against your hand. In your mentorship, you had worked tirelessly on calling specific weapons to you without much thought. One of your favorites, the lance, had begun to materialize for you. With a sharp thought, the lance became heavy in your hands, and the blade narrowed to a razor’s edge.

Tetsutetsu seemed to pause for a moment in surprise as he watched. Then with a sharp grin, he continued forward, determined. His skin met your lance with a shower of sparks. Despite your tireless training with the weapon, it soon became clear that your lance alone would not be enough to pierce his skin. After your last parry, you focused your energy behind Tetsutetsu, forming a war hammer to materialize behind him. The hammer’s head fell in an arc behind him, as if the handle was held by an invisible hand. It struck his back with a thundering clang, forcing Tetsutetsu to his knees in front of you. You charged in with your lance, but his arm still deflected your blow. Frustrated, you focused your will to all the heavy weapons you had learned to call, forming them one by one in an arc around Tetsutetsu. With a rapid succession of hits, Tetsutetsu’s metal started to chip. You cheered internally at the sight, maybe you would win this?

Then Tetsutetsu had started grabbing at the weapons, and with your cheerfulness distracting your focus, the weapons started to dissipate one by one. With a heavy thump, you were thrown to the ground on your side, Tetsutetsu had you pinned quickly, with a knee between your shoulder blades.

“That was something else Y/N! Way cool!” He cheered above you. You wheezed out your thanks, and Tetsutetsu quickly removed his weight from your torso, helping you up. As you stood and regained your breath, you felt a welcome breeze flow through your hair, and you turned to see Kirishima hardened and taking blows from the tall boy. At least you assumed that’s who the blur around him was. The boy was moving so quickly that your eyes struggled to keep up with the flurry of hits landing on Kirishima. You wondered how Kirishima could keep the wide smile he had after so many hits in such a quick rhythm. Kirishima suddenly struck out, sending the quick boy skidding back, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Y/N! Get on over here so we can see how to train ya.” Fatgum called to you from a table off to the side of the gym. He waved you over, and you tore your eyes away from the now head-to-head fight to speak with him.

“Alright, I’m ready!” You cheered, sitting across the table from the BMI hero. “Tell me what we need to do.” He returned your enthusiasm with a smile.

“Before we get down to the nitty-gritty, let’s discuss your quirk a little bit more.” You nodded and Fatgum proceeded to quiz you about the aspects of your quirk. As the two of you spoke, your eyes drifted back to Kirishima, who was still sparring. Kirishima looked sharper and more angular than you had seen before, and the boy sparring with him seemed to recoil from every hit he landed on your new friend.

Fatgum followed your eyes as you slowly stopped answering his questions. His own eyes lit up when he saw that you were ogling his very own mentee, or at least his sparring ability.

“He’s pretty cool, huh?” Fatgum smirked as your attention snapped back to the table. “Ya know, I trained him myself. I remember the first time he used Unbreakable in a fight.” He drew a finger up to his eye and sniffled dramatically. “They grow up so fast.” You chuckled and tried to fight the color from your face.

“Yeah, I just met him in my previous class, but he seems really cool!” You allowed yourself another peek at the redhead and managed to catch his eye. He immediately seemed to perk up and waved at you before receiving a supercharged kick to the face.

“Aw come on Iida, that was so unmanly!” You hear from across the gym. You snickered as you returned your attention to your teacher, who was shaking his head at his protege.

“Alright, back to business. You said you can tap into people’s thoughts to a lesser degree. That may help in reducing the strain on your creation abilities.” Fatgum’s face seemed to change as he spoke to you, now looking more like a pro-hero than the goofy teacher moments before. “Ya can use your mind tricks to an advantage instead of mass producing weaponry. Try tapping into their fears, maybe visions of things they care for. Ya might wanna look into trying to communicate through their thoughts too, maybe auditory hallucinations? Either way, it will take some of the strain of holding forms with mass, like the weapons, and ya should be able to focus on your defense so ya won’t get taken down so easily.” You sat, wide-eyed and nodding.

“Sort of like mental warfare?” You couldn’t keep the giddiness out of your voice. Your mother would love this.

Fatgum sent you away with homework- to start trying to apply these new techniques. You sat on the edge of the gym, stretching out your arms to try to relieve the tension between your shoulders. Tetsutetsu sat beside you, instantly chatting about himself and his various accomplishments from when he attended UA High. Your conversation turned towards the first-year Sports Festival when he first went up against Kirishima. He told you about how bitter he was about his introduction to the fight, and how it made him and Kirishima out to be doppelgangers by how similar their quirks and fighting style were. As he regaled you with the epic conclusion to their match, a double knock-out, Kirishima walked up to the two of you.

“Hey now, you better not be leaving out the part where I beat you in arm wrestling and won the match!” Kirishima smirked, sitting on the other side of you.

“Yeah, yeah, but now we’re bros!” Tetsutetsu leaned over you to fist bump Kirishima, sandwiching you between the two hard heroes-in-training.

“So, did you like watching me and Iida?” Kirishima’s eyes lit up as he looked to you, all embarrassment from earlier forgotten.

“Yeah, it was really cool until you took a shin to the face.” You giggled, poking at a still-forming bruise on his cheek. His face grew warm as he looked away.

“Yeah, well Iida’s really fast,” he whined.

“And you got distracted by a pretty girl.” Tetsutetsu peered over you with a smirk. “Come on bro, you know better than that.” His teasing hastened the redness spreading over Kirishima’s face. Once again, the familiarity of the two made you miss Inasa’s presence, and you hoped it wouldn’t be long before you felt closer to your classmates.

The three of you started discussing your meetings with Fatgum, and the boys seemed enthralled with the new techniques you would be practicing.

Tetsutetsu grabbed your hand and somberly looked at you. “I would be happy to be your guinea pig in this, Y/N.” Not to be outdone, Kirishima grabbed your free hand.

“Y/N, we’re friends. You should practice with your friends right?” You giggled at their dramatics and tried to pull your hands out from theirs, but their grips were tighter than you expected.

“Boys, don’t worry! I’ll make sure to mentally torture you both.” They seemed to flinch at this, suddenly remembering what that would entail. Before either could rescind their offer, the tall boy, Iida, walked over to your trio.

“Hello, my name is Iida Tenya. It’s nice to meet you.” He quickly introduced himself, “Sensei has told me to dismiss those he has already talked with, so we are free to go.” He spoke very politely, but without much emotion. He swiftly left after informing your group, walking up to the next congregation of people. With that interruption, you were able to slip out of the grasp of Tetsutetsu and Kirishima and hop up.

“Well, I’ll see you boys later.” You winked at the two of them and started jogging to the door. They quickly scrambled up from the floor and followed you out, playfully pushing each other out of the way. They fell in step beside you, and you started chatting with them about their schedules.

“Next I have Trauma Recovery and Emotional Wellness with Ms. Joke.” Kirishima read off of his schedule. You gasped and turned to look at him, smirking.

“Stalker!” You jokingly accused the redhead. Once again, he vehemently denied, as Tetsutetsu read your schedule and lamented that none of your other classes overlapped his. You laughed at the antics of the boy before a fierce gust of wind swept you above their heads. A booming laugh echoed across the common area you had wandered to, and a sweet smile stretched across your face. Kirishima seemed to be scurrying underneath you, assuring you he’d catch you, while Tetsutetsu gawked at you floating in a whirlwind above him.

The wind gently carried you away from the boys and into Inasa’s arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck as the wind subsided. “Inasa! How has your first day been?” You hair settled against your face and your cheeks had reddened from the wind blustering around you.

“Good!” His smile seemed to overtake his face as he looked down at you, and he set you down gingerly before looking behind you at the two flabbergasted boys.

“Oh! I made some friends!” You cheered. You quickly turned away from Inasa to grab the two boys by the hand and drag them over. Inasa seemed to frown momentarily as he watched you grab their hands so amicably. “Tetsutetsu, Kirishima, this is my friend from Shiketsu High, Inasa Yoarashi! This is Kirishima Eijirou and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu.” you smiled broadly at the three of them.

“Hey, I know you!” Kirishima pointed at Inasa, “You were at the licensing exam!” he smiled. “It’s nice to see you again! You sure scared me when Y/N when flying into the air.” Inasa’s face fell even further as he was reminded of his licensing failure.

“I am very sorry about my attitude that day, I hope you can forgive me.” Inasa’s voice grew louder as he spoke, and he began to bow towards the ground in classic Inasa fashion. Before his head could hit the ground, you placed your hand on his forehead.

“Now, Inasa, I’m sure Kirishima doesn’t mind. That was sooo long ago, right?” You looked over to Kirishima, who nodded quickly. “See Inasa, it’s not as big of a deal as you think.” Inasa stood up and dusted himself off before he nodded. He quickly reverted back to his cheerful self.

“Now, we can all become close classmates!” he declared before picking you up once again. “Let us get lunch in solidarity!” Kirishima looked away abashedly from his blatant affection, while Tetsutetsu tried glared at Inasa’s hands around your waist. Inasa set you down and you started to lead your group to the cafe. As you walked, you remembered your new homework and tried taking a glance in the heads around you. You looked at all three, and as you walked into the cafe, the sour taste of jealousy was thick on your tongue.

[luckydoogs]

HOW TO CHOOSE THE BEST DOG FOR YOU

Once you determine that you’re ready for a dog and capable of caring for one, then it’s time to narrow down your choices. While some people know exactly what kind of dog they want and where to find him, others have no clue. Either way, I’ll walk you through the most important issues to consider.

Puppy or Adult Dog?

at this stage of his life. For starters, you’re in a position to teach your pet from day one. You can prevent habits you don’t like from emerging in the first place, and you can take measures to prevent your dog from having socialization issues later on in life. Of course, there’s also something magical about caring for another living being from a very young age. However, keep in mind that puppies are a lot of work, and the time commitment is huge. A puppy is brand-new to this world and knows nothing of human culture and expectations. Puppies don’t come housetrained, and you have to walk them very often. They haven’t yet learned that they’re not supposed to play bite. Plus, you have to constantly monitor their every move—puppies are extremely curious and often love to chew everything in sight, so if you let your guard down they can damage your home or, worse, get hurt. In short, you’ll need to be extra tolerant and patient for some time. What are the advantages of adopting an adult dog? They don’t play bite as much, and housetraining is a little less difficult simply because their bladders are more developed and they can “hold it” longer. Some dogs may even come fully housetrained and know basic requests such as “sit” and “stay.” Older dogs typically cost less to acquire, too. Also, keep in mind that some of the best dogs in the world are those who have spent years in rescue shelters waiting for the perfect home. However, there may be some disadvantages: Many older dogs may not have been socialized properly as puppies, which can make them less confident in certain situations. For example, many dogs fear men simply because they weren’t exposed to them at a young age. Bad habits like destructive chewing, jumping on people, and pulling on a leash are likely more established, which means it may take a little more effort to put a stop to them. Weigh the pros and cons of having a puppy versus an older dog and remember not to underestimate the commitment a young puppy requires. However, if you have the time and patience to dedicate to a dog regardless of his age, then either can be a perfect addition to your family.

Does Size Matter?

Some people want only a dog they can tote around in their purse; others believe that bigger is better. I’ve worked with dogs of all shapes and sizes, and I’ve learned that size has absolutely nothing to do with the personality of a dog. However, it’s something you should consider. Here’s what you need to know:

Large dogs may require more room to exercise. This is a generalization, but it’s often true.

Smaller dogs tend to have longer life spans. For instance, a Chihuahua can live eighteen years, whereas a Bernese Mountain Dog’s life expectancy is a mere six to nine years. A study published in the American Naturalist found that for every 4.4-pound increase in weight, life expectancy dropped by one month. Of course, many variables will affect a dog’s life span; size is just one of them.

The larger the dog, the higher the costs for his basic care. While a small breed might eat about a half cup of kibble daily, a large one can go through ten times that. Grooming, toys, and other expenses can cost more, too.

Smaller dogs are more portable. You can more easily pick them up and take them in the car or on errands. Also, on most commercial airlines, you can bring a small dog on board as a carry-on as long as he fits in a travel case under the seat in front of you.

Large dogs can ward off strangers. A Bullmastiff sitting in your front window is going to scare off potential burglars more than a Maltese might, simply because of his appearance. (Though a small dog who’s attentive and likes to bark can also make for an excellent watchdog.)

Small dogs are easier to control. I’m not saying that it’s easier to train a small dog. However, when a ten-pound dog jumps up or lunges on his leash, it’s quite different from handling an eighty-pound dog with the same behavioral issues. Think about whether you have the strength to control a bigger dog.

Mixed Breed or Purebred ?

People often fixate on a particular breed, but I’ve got to say that many of the friendliest, smartest, most capable dogs I’ve ever worked with were mixed breeds. These dogs, often found in shelters, are typical results of random or unintentional breeding, and they tend to cost much less than purebred dogs. (We’re not talking about “designer dogs” here. I’ll get to that in a second.) On the flip side, it’s understandable that many people want a particular breed. Maybe they adore Pugs because they grew up with them or German Shepherds because they make them feel safe. Also, there’s the obvious advantage: with a purebred, you can safely estimate the future size, grooming needs, and appearance of your dog. With a mixed breed puppy, you can take a guess, but you might be surprised when the dog you thought was nonshedding and destined to top out at ten pounds winds up leaving hair all over the house and weighing so much you can’t lift him. Many experts argue that mixed breeds are healthier because of what’s known as hybrid vigor: by combining two different breeds, you are pooling from a larger range of traits, so the dog will less likely carry one of the genetic conditions common in certain breeds. However, a large study in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association found that the prevalence of certain genetic disorders among purebreds versus mixed breeds greatly depends on the specific health condition.4 Bottom line: I can’t recommend one type of dog over another—for every great mixed breed, there’s an equally amazing purebred. And more research needs to be done on this topic before we definitively know whether one is healthier than the other. Just rest assured that with so many choices, you are sure to find a loving, well-behaved companion.

DESIGNER DOGS

You might wonder about “designer dogs” such as Cockapoos and Morkies. These dogs are mixed breeds with a twist—they’re the result of intentional breeding of two purebreds to create a new breed that theoretically combines the best traits of both parents. For instance, a Cockapoo is a cross between a Cocker Spaniel and a Poodle, while a Morkie is a cross between a Maltese and a Yorkie. These puppies sometimes have a much heftier price tag than purebreds. The popularity of these dogs has dramatically increased since the late 1980s when an Australian breeder named Wally Conron set out to create a nonshedding Seeing Eye dog. He crossed a Labrador Retriever with a Poodle and voilà: the Labradoodle was invented, and a new trend in the dog world was launched. Some experts claim these dogs are healthier because of hybrid vigor, though no studies have proven that. However, keep in mind a lot of these designer dogs come from puppy mills and backyard breeders who are looking to make a quick buck and have no concern for the puppy’s health or temperament. In fact, according to an article in Psychology Today, Conron himself said, “I opened a Pandora’s box, that’s what I did. I released a Frankenstein. So many people are just breeding for the money. So many of these dogs have physical problems, and a lot of them are just crazy.”5 I’m not saying you should avoid these dogs. Just don’t believe all the hype. Designer dogs aren’t that different from the mixes you see at a shelter. Regardless of any benefits, their sellers claim, you still won’t know exactly what you’re going to wind up with, as temperament, appearance, and coat can vary greatly from one dog to another. Many dogs bred not to shed actually do.

CHOOSING A BREED

If you choose a purebred dog over a mutt, then your next step will be to pick a particular breed. I can’t stress enough how dangerous it can be to focus too much on the breed. People choose breeds based on stereotypes and are very often disappointed when their dog doesn’t behave as he’s “supposed to.” However, almost no individual dog will meet all of the characteristics defined by a breed description. Trust me: you simply cannot reliably assign attributes to your individual dog based on his breed. I’ve known lots of retrievers who don’t retrieve, tiny Yorkies who excel at competitive Frisbee, hyper Basset Hounds, and Border Collies who were terrified of the sheep they were bred to herd. I’m not saying to ignore breed altogether. Of course, there are characteristics of certain breeds that remain true: things like shedding and size are not going to vary widely, so these generalizations are more accurate. Also, if you’re picking out a dog, it’s still a good idea to get a wide-angle view of what certain breeds were bred to do, and if you need a dog to, say, herd cattle, then you should probably stick with a herding breed. When I first got into competitive Frisbee competitions, I purposely chose a Border Collie because I knew they are often high-energy dogs with relentless focus and physical stamina. In my dog Venus’s case, she fit the stereotype in those respects, and we won many competitions. However, I know plenty of other Border Collies who wouldn’t have been suited for the competitions at all. In sum, it’s fine to use breed stereotypes in a very preliminary way to get traction on the decision-making process as long as you understand that these are tentative guidelines, not absolute truths. Just as every human within a certain race, religion, or culture is different, the same concept applies to dogs: You need to get to know the individual.

[naysaltysalmon]

2 years have passed.

Just two months after I started college freshman year, I made a post titled "good shit i've noticed after being away from my abusive family for 2 months." The post wasn’t very popular, so I kinda forgot about it. Although, now, I think it's about time I remade that list -- for my own self-measurement if nothing else, but more than that... I hope this can be helpful to anyone else going through a tough time, facing a situation similar to what I was.

Independence gets easier. Like, a lot easier. At first, it was hard to do everything -- anything -- on my own. I couldn’t accept that I could be something without my parents’/family’s voices always egging me on, with their deceit to crawl back to. But overtime, I’ve grown to fully understand how they didn’t meet my needs anyway, and it wasn’t that I needed or wanted to be around them, but that my sense of familiarity with them made me believe our relationship was good/necessary to my identity.

The wonderful sense of identity and agency you start to gain. Related to the previously point, now that I don’t have my parents to baby-talk me into and out of situations, I don’t always have their voices in the back of my head telling me what to do in every situation. I can choose whether to buy myself a tacky shirt and only have myself to worry about the repercussions (if there are any, which there usually aren’t other than some facepalming because I didn’t think of how hard said shirt would be to clean). I can choose whether to go to class or hang out with someone and not have their opinions constantly hanging over my head from the questions such minute things would produce. The only thoughts I have to worry about are my own, (and of course friends to an extent,) and that voice is getting easier and easier to deal with.

Talking about money gets a lot easier. I used to feel really guilty whenever I would have to talk finances with my parents, friends, or acquaintances. I’m essentially paying for college on my own right now, except that I need my parents to sign the private loans to cover the remainder of that. I used to agonize over this because it felt like I was “using” my parents’ money even though I had no intention of ever seeing them or going to visit them. Now, I remember that it wasn’t as though we had a close relationship to begin with; this business-like attitude with fake cordiality that I’ve taken up with them is what I need in order to give myself a good life, to separate from them, and to be with people who actually care for and understand me. They are the ones who produced this relationship in the first place, as they never cared about my emotional state while I was living with them, and we only had a superficial relationship based on physical needs anyway. Don’t let your conscience weigh you down. Sometimes your own drawing of boundaries for self-protection and -preservation is what they need to grow too (but don’t expect them to).

Drawing boundaries gets easier. I sometimes fear taking time for myself not only affects my reputation to my professors/colleagues, but drives my friends away, making them question my loyalty and thus our friendship as a whole. This is not the case. As long as you clearly communicate what you need and can/cannot do at the time, even if it’s at the last second when you’ve already made plans, anyone worth being around will understand and not hold it against you.

The suicidal thoughts disappear, and the depression becomes less frequent with time. First semester of freshmen year, I was riddled with lapses in my mental state, which filled me with immense confusion, especially after I had just escaped my family. It made me question if I really had made the right decision in moving away from them, if anything would ever make me happy. This reaction came from the sudden schism placed upon me in relation to my peers, who hadn’t just come from a broken household. It made it impossible for me to relate with anyone or have friends for the first few months to a year that I was in college. The smallest triggers have set me off ever since then too, ranging from feeling exhausted and unmotivated while on the computer to having a full-on panic attack during class. As my mindset has changed, however, it became easier to open up to people, and thus easier to make friends, and in turn to heal, grow, and thrive.

The hyperalertness and exhaustion disappear. When I first got to college, just hearing other people in the same dorm as me exhausted me. Just walking to the cafeteria was all I could do after class because being around other people was just so exhausting, as I was always on high alert, just as my parents always taught me. The more time I spent doing things I enjoyed, making friends who imbued me with confidence and energy, and growing in all these other ways, my stamina increased while my sense of danger decreased. Now I have energy to go to class, get food, go to the gym, to work, to do homework and socialize all in one day -- and even if school in general is exhausting and I need to take a day off here and there, I find enjoyment in a certain level of tiredness.

People aren’t scary anymore. Because of all the things I’ve already mentioned, making friends and becoming more independent, I don’t feel like I’m constantly in danger around people anymore. When I’m in a new situation, I generally feel like I can handle it because I understand that most people aren’t looking to pick apart my mind and soul at every given second -- only someone who is very mentally disturbed (like my family) would do such a thing -- and if I make a mistake, I remind myself that I’m still learning how social situations function after getting out of the hell hole that was my household. For the most part, though, most people are too self-absorbed to care about what anyone else is doing and don’t give a flying fuck.

I can recognize unhealthy/toxic behavior in other people and in my own thoughts a lot easier. Anyone whose energy rubs me in the wrong way is ignored; as I’ve already had a lot of experience dealing with toxic people in my family and can more easily recognize my triggers to when I used to live with them, having been away from them and with more easy-going people now, I can quickly pick up on someone’s toxic behavior. I had a fight with my friend recently, and just realized that since I didn’t/don’t feel I could say my side of the issue, just like my family would have done to me when I lived with them, that that friendship probably isn’t healthy for me anymore -- I should feel able to speak my mind without the fear of being minimized in the face of someone else.

I’m interested in dating??? I’ve never been a very outwardly romantic person in my real life, but now, I’m wondering if it’s because I was forced to become a statue of a human around my family, seeing as they jumped on any emotion that wasn’t focused on themselves. Now, I find myself wanting to scream my feelings to the world sometimes -- not just negative ones, but positive ones too. I’m not so worried about being judged for my emotional reactions, and in fact feel that I’ve been able to grow closer to the friends I have now when I’ve allowed myself to show and feel more of what’s going on inside me. I may want to extend this to my current crush too !

Being alone in a crowded space isn’t lonely anymore. I always feared I was “doing something wrong” if I didn’t always have someone with me -- whether in the cafeteria, running errands, or otherwise -- as I did when I was living with my parents. They were my supervisors and ensured I wasn’t “alone” in the world. That isn’t true -- I’m very much someone who needs time to myself, and my parents only proved to be a force that withheld my agency from me as they constantly made decisions for me. Being alone in a busy place puts me at ease sometimes more than being with another person, as I’m allowed to observe and meditate in my own little space without anyone directly around me.

The trauma... it slowly dissipates, becoming less with time -- and, slowly, you get to become who you always wanted to be and never could before. I know this one sounds like the cliche line from every story in human history, but hopefully all of my former points have demonstrated this. I still deal with my trauma in my daily life -- every day, pretty much. I don’t go many days without thinking about it. But it’s no longer a behemoth overshadowing every thought in my head and every action I take. It doesn’t impede my energy and mood every moment; it’s a little observer that sits on my shoulder, not separate from me, as that would be impossible, but no longer commanding all of my attention nor possessing the loudest voice amongst all the things swirling in my head. I have to gauge it, watch it, make sure it isn’t taking over too many of my thoughts, but also listening to it when it speaks, taking what it says into account. I have to take care of myself sometimes in ways that no one else understands -- neither friends, colleagues, college staff, nor professors -- and that in itself can be lonely and exhausting, even depressing at times. It isn’t easy. My development up until this point hasn’t been out of mere spontaneous happenstance -- I’ve been going to therapy since freshman year, and still find myself overwhelmed by all the thoughts -- all the voices -- blurting things out in my head. However... I also find myself doing and thinking things -- encountering new situations -- I never would have imagined possible before, when I was in middle school and high school, living under the toxic roof of my family.

Most days are still hard. I still have a long way to go, that’s for sure -- but the amount of recovery I’ve made up until now, in such a short amount of time, has already made me cry on more than one occasion, knowing in how dark a place I’ve come from, and how much farther I can still go.

Don’t give up. You can get through this. You will get through this, and things will be better if you keep your mind focused on what matters, which is your health.

I’m nowhere near complete with my recovery, but more than anything that fact gives me hope on how much I know I can still improve. I’m already feeling the effects substantially after only 2 years! I hope hearing my experience and progress with a lifetime of trauma recovery will give you hope too. So many people talk about the elusive “light at the end of the tunnel” that they reach once one has “recovered,” but so few people talk about the actual steps you take in the darkness, and how scary and exhausting and lonely and frustrating that can be. I might talk about that more in another post, but I hope this was helpful for anyone else going through a hard time.

I wish only mental clarity and hearty happiness upon anyone else trapped in a similar situation. I didn’t think I could make it, but here I am. I know you can too.

[pencils-and-ponies]

We Forget how to Walk 2018

Since I’m currently in the process of rewriting We Forget how to Walk, I figured I would post the original chapters (that I have, since I never finished the first draft...). 

I’ll try to tag things as needed when they come up, but do be aware this story will eventually have graphic injury description and animal death.

CHAPTER ONE

“You waitin' on the ferry?”

Looking up from the horizon, I saw an older man approaching me. He looked to be in his late seventies, and had a kind face that had been left lined and weathered by decades spend on the ocean. Jerking a thumb over my shoulder into the bed of my truck, loaded down with all my belongings, I nodded.

“Moving to Specter Island today.”

He turned the face the ocean and smiled faintly, a look that conveyed a sense of fondness that could only come from years of living in the same place without ever wanting to leave. For an almost uncomfortable length of time he stared out into the fog that stood like a wall between us and the island. Then he shook his head abruptly, frowning.

“I wouldn't”

Well if that's not a ringing endorsement, I thought wryly to myself. Of course I wasn't going to let one old man sway my decision. Growing up in a small town I'd learned pretty quick that the old timers weren't always as welcoming with newcomers, and would often try to come up with ways to convince people to live elsewhere. This likely wouldn't be any different. “I just got a job with Olsen Performance horses. I figure after 20 years of living in Wisconsin, there's nothing an island can throw at me that I can't handle.”

He gave a short, bark of a laugh and sat down on the tailgate beside me. “I don't mean the weather. I mean the name- Specter island. Ever wonder how it got it?”

“Not particularly, no. I guess the fog, now that I've been here.”

“Nah- you can't see it from the mainland anyway. No, there's something… off about it.”

“You mean like it's haunted?” I had to admit, he'd caught my interest. While horses had been my passion my entire life, taking me on the five year journey that had lead me here, I did have other interests. And ghost stories were right at the top of the list.

The man didn't answer for a bit, instead taking off his cap and scratching at a tuft of air clinging stubbornly to the top of his otherwise bald head. Then putting it back on he sighed and gestured to the ocean before us. “I've been sailing these waters a long time, and I ain't never seen anything like that place. An' I seen a lot, let me tell you.”

“What was it then?”

“Now I've never actually set foot there, an' I never will, but I've been off the coast more than enough times. There's something that appears on the shore. Not all the time, not even that often. But every time I see it, someone returns to the mainland in a wooden box.”

For a moment I was a little concerned. Ghosts were one thing, but death omens were a little bit more than I was hoping for.

“How many times have you seen it?”

“Oh, about three, maybe four times. Of course I don't see it every time someone dies, but if I do, within the month someone comes home for the last time. No one gets buried there.”

He'd just answered my next question. Superstition and coincidences, that was all there was to it.

“I think I'll take my chances then,” I said, nodding in the general direction of the island. Off in the distance, there was a low, almost mournful call from the ferry's foghorn. As if that was his cue to leave, the man got to his feet and held out his hand.

“I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, by the way.”

“Naomi Oxley- although most people call me Nox,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. He had a surprisingly firm grip.

“Well Nox, I wish you the best. Just don't say I didn't warn you.  If you're ever back on the mainland, look me up. I'm curious what that thing looks like up close. Benjamin Alda; most folks know me.”

“If I see it, I'll be sure to report back.”

He smiled again and, without another word, turned and walked off into the fog.

After parking my truck below, I made my way up to the passenger deck, and then out to stand at the bow and watch for my first glimpse of my new home. There weren't many people making the crossing with me, although I hadn't expected a whole lot. April was still considered the off season, and most tourists wouldn't be arriving until the middle of May. The few people who were onboard shot me mildly suspicious glances as I passed, and I assumed they were locals. My only company outside were a couple seagulls, hitching a ride on the railing a few yards away. They ignored me.

While it wasn't the friendliest of welcomes, I did not feel discouraged. There was something alive about this move in a way I hadn't found before. It was something I could feel, the same way I felt the spray from the ocean on my face, and tasted the salt in the air. I'd felt it the same thing the moment I'd started my interview with Keith on the phone.

My previous experiences with starting new jobs had been less than ideal. While I'd known going into this path that a career with horses took a lot of time, tears, and plain old hard work, I'd never imagined that the people would be the worst part. The barn that I'd grown up riding in had been like a fimily to me, and I figured that finding another place like it would be a piece of cake. However, my first job had been at a lesson farm that was starving their horses to death; the second had me living in her basement, which doubled as a bathroom for her dogs; the third was run by a woman who would be from praising you to hurling curses in your direction multiple times per day.  It had been an eye opener, to say the least.

This time would be different. It had to be. I'd done a lot of research on Keith, and on OPH, before taking the position. There was no record of him being accused of abuse, no one showing off the truth that he kept hidden behind closed doors. He was open and honest about his business and what was expected of me, and he even gave me a live tour of the place during our video interview. It was all so simple and yet so rare to find in the horse world.

That, and he just happened to be running one of the best ICTHA training facilities in the country. How could I turn that down.

The International Competitive Trail Horse Association hosted the most popular equine sports in the world, extreme competitive trail. A three day event that tested a horses stamina, bravery, and trust in it's rider, there was nothing else out there that could really showcase what horses are truly capable of. The first day was an endurance ride of varying lengths, although 30 miles was the standard. The following day was an arena course with some of the toughest obstacles imaginable, including rings of fire and the giant inflatable tubes typically seen outside of car dealerships. The final day returned to the outdoors for a much shorter race with obstacles along the way. The horse with the best overall time, performance, and vet scores took first place.

There were no shortcuts in extreme trail. You couldn't focus all your energy on one thing and expect to win, and you couldn't use drugs to mask lameness or pain for the sake of winning a trophy. It took years to train a winner at the top level. And Keith had managed to have one of his horses place in at least the top three ten years running. If he lost, it was to one that he had sold. That kind of success didn't come from training with force or starving your horses, that was for sure.

The call of the foghorn, deafeningly loud now that it was directly behind me, startled me out of my thoughts. And then I heard the reply, surprisingly close but still just out of sight

The island emerged from the fog a couple minutes later like a ghost ship, a solid beam of light swinging around from a lighthouse on the coast to welcome us in. There were other lights in the distance as well, houses and other buildings in town, the docks. I tried to imagine it on a clear day, with tourists and vacationers at every corner.

Someday, I would see it that way for real.

[oakleylara-blog]

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[redsdesktop]

RK1700 Week: Day 3

Warnings: None. Aside from mild language.

AU: Magical Creature / Omegaverse

Pairings: RK800, RK800-60, RK900

"Looks like I win again."

Collin's words didn't seem to bother Connor too much, by now he was used to Collin being the better hunter and yet Connor always took up the challenge to see who could bring back the most kills from their hunt. Connor had brought back three while Collin had ended up with five, which meant Connor would have to help Collin out in his studies. Which he would've done anyways since no one else would teach them, Hank would have but their older foster dad was busy with trying to work out some negotiations with their neighbors. Learning anything more than how to survive was something that humans out in a rural town didn't normally do. However, Connor and Collin weren't exactly human and that was the problem.

Half-Human and Half-Elven. Half breeds that had been wanted by neither race. It wasn't often that half-breeds happened, but the elves would outcast the children to the nearest human town, but the humans hadn't wanted them either, fearing the magical part of their heritage. Hank had taken them in, having lost his own wife and child years ago couldn't stand to see children going hungry. It had been a very taxing life, but they made due and both Connor and Collin worked twice as hard to make sure everything was taken care of around the house. That included learning as much as they could, Connor preferred to find anything he could about the elves while Collin preferred reading about battles throughout history. Though, there hadn't been a war for over a century now, so there was no real need for a call to arms.

"No surprise there, but this should last us for a few days." Connor hung up their haul on the hooks in the kitchen. He'd spent most of his time in the forest trying to find any sign of the elves, but they were elusive, their kingdom hidden behind a veil of magic, preventing anyone from stumbling across them. Connor had thought with his half blood he'd be able to find it, but his lack in knowledge about magic made him pitifully inept. Humans avoided magic, only a bare few could actually wield it and they were mostly shunned. So learning anything about his elven side was nearly impossible. Connor didn't talk much about his curiosity to Collin, knowing that the other male disliked both elves and humans. They hadn't wanted him so he spared them little time which hadn't exactly made him the most favored person in the town. The exact opposite judging about how many times Collin would come home beat up from a fight. No doubt from the alphas in the village who were bold in their hate towards half-breeds, especially against a mutated dynamic. All in all, Collin was labeled a freak in every which way.

Collin was in the process of stoke the fire to warm up their home when there was a hurried knock on the door, which was unusual as they rarely ever received guests. Frowning, Connor moved to open the door a little to peek out, taking precautions because he really didn't want to get pelted with rocks again. He shifted his dark brown gaze downward to spot one of the messengers of the town, a task given to young boys to keep them busy. "Yes, may I help you?" Connor asked politely, unable to pitch his voice lower like a human, his elvish roots made his speech sometimes off-putting with how fluent it could be.

"Yes, your da said you and Collin should come to the meeting hall right away, its important." The boy seemed a bit out of breath, indicating he'd run as fast as he could to get here, which meant it had to be serious. Connor opened the door a little wider before handing the boy a copper piece to send him on his way before turning to look over his shoulder at Collin who was snuffing out the fire he'd just lit.

"I wonder what's needed from us, no one ever really calls on us. Unless they want us to go hunting a stray wolf whose been killing their sheep." Connor mulled over as Collin lightly pushed Connor out of the doorway so he could shut and lock it behind him.

"Hell if I know, not like they're going to finally recognize us as citizens of this town." Collin grumbled as he locked the door with an iron key before they set off in a brisk pace. Though that brisk pace increased when Collin tried to take the lead, but Connor wouldn't allow it and moved faster. By the time they reached the meeting hall, they were only breathing slightly heavier after running half the distance here, having more stamina and speed than a normal human. Connor grabbed the wrought iron handle, only to have Collin's hand cover his. Both paused to glare at each other.

"I'm the eldest." Connor stated, outranking him in age by a month.

"I'm more dominant." Collin retorted with a growl, neither budged.

"That's highly debatable." Connor looked a bit amused at his comeback, making the slightly pointed tips of his ears turn red in anger.

Before a decision could be made on who would open the door and go in first, it was shoved open from the inside, startling the pair. Hank stood there, looking annoyed at the two. "Stop fuckin' bickering and get your asses in here already." Hank snapped, though that was fairly usual, Hank had a temper but being gruff was just who he was. Connor and Collin looked away with guilt before following after Hank inside, hearing the commotion of voices trying to talk over one another. Curious now, Connor leaned to peer around Hank to spot the source of such upheaval in their little town, something he thought he'd never be able to catch a glimpse of in his extended life time.

Elves.

What were they doing here though? They never left their home unless on rare occasions and never in such a group. Their refined white clothes without a single blemish, trimmed in the purest silver. Their long hair accenting their perfect ivory skin, with their angular bone structure making them look regal, having an air of elegance. Connor could feel the pure magic radiating from them, making them almost glow in his eyes. He was stunned at their appearance, only able to stand and stare as his mind scrambled to make sense of this all, to confirm it wasn't just a dream.

"They're beautiful." Connor admitted aloud as if star struck, but a indignant snort beside him said he was likely the only one.

"They look like stuck up pricks to me." Collin stated, folding his arms over his chest, none of the elves seemed to acknowledge them, either because they were newcomers or because they were half breeds. Connor assumed that they wouldn't, having heard tales of elves banishing half breeds, even if they were only just children. However, as Connor stared, one seemed to sense new eyes on them and turned to look. Eyes as gray as the full moon met his brown ones, making Connor's breath catch in his throat and his heart race like a rabbit being chased. He must have made a sound as Collin reached over and gave his shoulder a shake.

"C'mon Connor, let's find a seat, they don't want anything to do with us." Collin sounded bitter and he had every right to be as Connor finally tore his gaze away from the dark haired elf who had been the only one to look over at them. Though Connor hadn't been able to decipher if it was out of surprise, disgust, or a mix of both. Eventually Collin and Connor took a seat on a bench out of the way, Hank had called them in because he'd known Connor had been interested in seeing the other half of his heritage. The leader seemed to be trying to make demands and the mayor wasn't interested in being pushed around. Hank was trying to turn the thing into a deal where both sides could be happy. The elves didn't want humans coming into the woods, but hunting was a large way of how people survived out here. So the humans offered to be a trade station to the outside world for the elves to receive goods that they couldn't make themselves.

All the arguing was tiring, Connor wanted to know more about the elves, but even now they skirted around revealing anything about their way of life. Collin had fallen asleep at this point, his head resting on Connor's shoulder, as usual seeking comfort from the omega. Just when Connor was about to give up and take Collin back home, a shadow fell over them. Connor looked up to see the elf that had looked at them earlier, tall, imposing, his posture strict as if he didn't know how to relax. His expression guarded and closed off, making Connor wonder if he even knew how to smile, if he ever felt anything at all. All the elves seemed to be the same, making Connor feel... A little sorry for them. He didn't know for certain, but it felt like the elves were like this all the time and maybe that's why half breeds weren't allowed, because their human side wanted to feel everything.

"I didn't realize there were any half-breeds still living." Came the cool and calm voice of the alpha before him, it would've been something Connor could lose himself in if the implications of those words didn't hint danger.

"Why wouldn't we be alive?" Connor asked curiously, it appeared this elf broke the norm and investigated them and Connor wasn't going to pass up on this opportunity to learn something.

"It used to be the tradition to kill half-breeds if they made it through gestation." The elf replied calmly as if he hadn't just admitted to the killing of half breed children. Connor tensed, trying to maintain control over himself so he didn't let his emotions slip into his scent and disturb everyone in the room. "Though I've never found it interesting to kill the weak, even if it was necessary."

Necessary? Connor was up on his feet instantly, unable to maintain a sitting position when this elf was talking about the murder of his kind. Collin let out a startled grunt as he fell over onto the bench, jarred awake by the absence of Connor. "I don't think the killing of anyone just because of their blood is necessary. We're living beings, we laugh and we cry and we love. That's something you'll likely never have." Connor barked, feeling a bit childish for snapping like that, but he was furious, angry that such a beautiful face could say such ugly things right in front of him. Collin stood up, trying to make sense of the situation but gathering enough to assess that this elf was bothering Connor. Enough so that the omega whirled onto Collin, making the epsilon take a cautionary step back to protect himself.

"Come on, Collin, I guess you win again this time." Connor remarked, hiding and trying his best to suppress the pang of disappointment in his chest. He didn't wait for Collin to give an agreement before making a tactical retreat to avoid making any more of a scene and getting the humans in trouble for his outburst. Collin though was less conscious about the room, all he knew was that this elf had upset Connor and no one got away with that, not even a high and mighty elf. In a blink of an eye, Collin's knuckles slammed into the angular cheek of the elf, catching the other male by surprise enough to make him stumble back. By the time the elf recovered, Collin was already trotting to catch up with Connor, leaving the elf to rub his cheek and stare after the retreating pair. Another elf stepped closer, having observed the entire exchange.

"What was that all about, Conrad?"

"The terrible start of a interesting courtship."

[garywonghc]

Real Happiness

by Sharon Salzberg

Meditation is essentially a way to train our attention so we can be more aware of both our inner workings and what’s happening around us. It’s straightforward and simple, but it isn’t easy.

People have been transforming their minds through meditation for thousands of years. Every major world religion includes some form of contemplative exercise, though today meditation is often practised apart from any belief system. Meditation may be done in silence and stillness, by using voice and sound, or by engaging the body in movement. All forms emphasise the training of attention.

“My experience is what I agree to attend to,” the pioneering psychologist William James wrote at the turn of the twentieth century. “Only those items I notice shape my mind.” At its most basic level, attention — what we allow ourselves to notice — literally determines how we experience and navigate the world. The ability to summon and sustain attention is what allows us to job hunt, juggle, learn math, make pancakes, aim a cue and pocket the eight ball, protect our kids, and perform surgery. It lets us be discerning in our dealings with the world, responsive in our intimate relationships, and honest when we examine our own feelings and motives. Attention determines our degree of intimacy with our ordinary experiences and contours our entire sense of connection to life.

The content and quality of our lives depend on our level of awareness — a fact we are often not aware of. There’s an old story, usually attributed to a Native American elder, that’s meant to illuminate the power of attention. A grandfather imparting a life lesson to his grandson tells him, “I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is vengeful, fearful, envious, resentful, deceitful. The other wolf is loving, compassionate, generous, truthful, and serene.” The grandson asks which wolf will win the fight. The grandfather answers, “The one I feed.”

But that’s only part of the picture. True, whatever gets our attention flourishes, so if we lavish attention on the negative and inconsequential, they can overwhelm the positive and the meaningful. But if we do the opposite, refusing to deal with or acknowledge what’s difficult and painful, pretending it doesn’t exist, then our world is out of whack. Whatever doesn’t get our attention withers — or retreats below conscious awareness, where it may still affect our lives. In a perverse way, ignoring the painful and the difficult is just another way of feeding the wolf. Meditation teaches us to open our attention to all of human experience and all parts of ourselves.

Meditation is pragmatic, the psychological and emotional equivalent of a physical training program: If you exercise regularly, you get certain results — stronger muscles, denser bones, increased stamina. If you meditate regularly, you also get certain results, including greater calm, and improved concentration and more connection to others. But there are other rewards.

You’ll begin to spot the unexamined assumptions that get in the way of happiness.

These assumptions we make about who we are and the way the world works — what we deserve, how much we can handle, where happiness is to be found, whether or not positive change is possible — all greatly influence how and to what we pay attention.

I was reminded of how assumptions can get in our way when I visited the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, D.C., to view a work of art by a sculptor friend. Eagerly I checked every room, peered at every display case and pedestal — no sculpture. Finally I gave up. As I headed for the exit, I glanced up — and there was her beautiful piece. It was a bas-relief hanging on the wall, not the freestanding statue I’d expected; my assumptions had put blinders on me and almost robbed me of the experience of seeing what was really there — her amazing work. In the same way, our assumptions keep us from appreciating what’s right in front of us — a stranger who’s a potential friend, a perceived adversary who might actually be a source of help. Assumptions block direct experience and prevent us from gathering information that could bring us comfort and relief, or information that, though saddening and painful, will allow us to make better decisions.

Here are some familiar assumptions you might recognise: We have nothing in common. I won’t be able to do it. You can’t reason with a person like that. Tomorrow will be exactly like today. If I just try hard enough, I’ll manage to control him/her/it/them. Only big risks can make me feel alive. I’ve blown it; I should just give up. I know just what she’s going to say, so I don’t really need to listen to her. Happiness is for other people, not me. Statements like these are motivated by fear, desire, boredom, or ignorance. Assumptions bind us to the past, obscure the present, limit our sense of what’s possible, and elbow out joy. Until we detect and examine our assumptions, they short-circuit our ability to observe objectively; we think we already know what’s what.

You’ll stop limiting yourself. When we practice meditation, we often begin to recognise a specific sort of conditioned response — previously undetected restrictions we’ve imposed on our lives. We spot the ways we sabotage our own growth and success because we’ve been conditioned to be content with meagre results. Meditation allows us to see that these limits aren’t inherent or immutable; they were learned and they can be unlearned — but not until we recognise them. (Some common limiting ideas: She’s the smart one, you’re the pretty one. People like us don’t stand a chance. Kids from this neighbourhood don’t become doctors.) Training attention through meditation opens our eyes. Then we can assess these conditioned responses — and if parts of them contain some truth, we can see it clearly and put it to good use; if parts of them just don’t hold up under scrutiny, we can let them go.

You’ll weather hard times better. Meditation teaches us safe ways to open ourselves to the full range of experience — painful, pleasurable, and neutral — so we can learn how to be a friend to ourselves in good times and bad. During meditation sessions we practice being with difficult emotions and thoughts, even frightening or intense ones, in an open and accepting way, without adding self-criticism to something that already hurts. Especially in times of uncertainty or pain, meditation broadens our perspective and deepens our sense of courage and capacity for adventure. Here’s how you get braver: little by little. In small, manageable, bearable increments, we make friends with the feelings that once terrified us. Then we can say to ourselves, I’ve managed to sit down, face some of my most despairing thoughts and my most exuberantly hopeful ones without judging them. That took strength; what else can I tackle with that same strength? Meditation lets us see that we can accomplish things we didn’t think ourselves capable of.

You’ll rediscover a deeper sense of what’s really important to you. Once you look beneath distractions and conditioned reactions, you’ll have a clearer view of your deepest, most enduring dreams, goals, and values.

You’ll have a portable emergency resource. Meditation is the ultimate mobile device; you can use it anywhere, anytime, unobtrusively. You’re likely to find yourself in situations — having a heated argument at work, say, or chauffeuring a crowd of rambunctious kids to a soccer game — when you can’t blow off steam by walking around the block, hitting the gym, or taking a time-out in the tub. But you can always follow your breath.

You’ll be in closer touch with the best parts of yourself. Meditation practice cultivates qualities such as kindness, trust, and wisdom that you may think are missing from your makeup but are actually undeveloped or obscured by stress and distractions. Meditation practice gives us the chance to locate these qualities so we can access them more easily and frequently.

You’ll recapture the energy you’ve been wasting trying to control the uncontrollable. I once led a retreat in California during a monsoon like rainstorm. It’s so soggy and unpleasant that people aren’t going to have a good retreat, I thought. I felt bad for the participants; in fact, I felt responsible. For a few days I wanted to apologise to everybody for the rain until a thought flickered: Wait a minute. I’m not even from California; I’m from Massachusetts. This isn’t my weather. This is their weather. Maybe they should apologise to me! And then the voice of deeper wisdom arose: Weather is weather. This is what happens.

We’ve all had weather moments — times when we’ve felt responsible for everyone’s good time or well-being. It’s our job, we think, to fix the temperature and humidity, or the people around us (if we could only get our partner to quit smoking, consult a map, stick to a diet). We even think we’re capable of totally controlling our own emotions — I shouldn’t ever feel envious, or resentful, or spiteful! That’s awful! I’m going to stop. You might as well say, “I’m never going to catch a cold again!” Though we can affect our physical and emotional experiences, we can’t ultimately determine them; we can’t decree what emotions will arise within us. But we can learn through meditation to change our responses to them. That way we’re spared a trip down a path of suffering we’ve travelled many times before. Recognising what we can’t control (the feelings that arise within us; other people; the weather) helps us have healthier boundaries at work and at home — no more trying to reform everyone all the time. It helps us to stop beating up on ourselves for having perfectly human emotions. It frees energy we expend on trying to control the uncontrollable.

You’ll understand how to relate to change better — to accept that it’s inevitable and believe that it’s possible. Most of us have a mixed, often paradoxical attitude toward change. Some of us don’t think change is possible at all; we believe we’re stuck forever doing things the way we’ve always done them. Some of us simultaneously hope for change and fear it. We want to believe that change is possible, because that means that our lives can get better. But we also have trouble accepting change, because we want to hold on permanently to what’s pleasurable and positive. We’d like difficulties to be fleeting and comfort to stick around.

Trying to avoid change is exhausting and stressful. Everything is impermanent: happiness, sorrow, a great meal, a powerful empire, what we’re feeling, the people around us, ourselves. Meditation helps us comprehend this fact — perhaps the basic truth of human existence, and the one we humans are most likely to balk at or be oblivious to, especially when it comes to the biggest change of all: Mortality happens, whether we like it or not. We grow old and die. (In the ancient Indian epic, the Mahabharata, a wise king is asked to name the most wondrous thing in the universe. “The most wondrous thing in the entire universe,” he says, “is that all around us people are dying and we don’t believe it will happen to us.”) Meditation is a tool for helping us accept the profound fact that everything changes all the time.

Meditating offers a chance to see change in microcosm. Following our breath while observing how thoughts continually ebb and flow can help us realise that all elements of our experience are in constant flux. During a meditation session, it’s natural to go through many ups and downs, to encounter both new delights and newly awakened conflicts that have bubbled up from the unconscious mind. Sometimes you tap into a wellspring of peace. Other times you might feel waves of sleepiness, boredom, anxiety, anger, or sadness. Snatches of old songs may play in your head; long-buried memories can surface. You may feel wonderful or awful. Daily meditation will remind us that if we look closely at a painful emotion or difficult situation, it’s bound to change; it’s not as solid and unmanageable as it might have seemed. The fear we feel in the morning may be gone by the afternoon. Hopelessness may be replaced by a glimmer of optimism. Even while a challenging situation is unfolding, it is shifting from moment to moment, varied, alive. What happens during meditation shows us that we’re not trapped, that we have options. Then, even if we’re afraid, we can find a way to go on, to keep trying.

This is not a Pollyanna sentiment that everything will be just fine, according to our wishes or our timetable. Rather it is an awakened understanding that gives us the courage to go into the unknown and the wisdom to remember that as long as we are alive, possibility is alive. We can’t control what thoughts and emotions arise within us, nor can we control the universal truth that everything changes. But we can learn to step back and rest in the awareness of what’s happening. That awareness can be our refuge.

[looselucy]

To War - Dunkirk / Alex

Part 3 of 4

- We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air. We shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be; we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender. - Evelyn ran towards the train station, her hair loose and falling messily over her shoulders, and she could see other people rushing in the same direction. She could see anxious parents hoping to see their sons, wives gripping the hands of young children as they marched towards the station.

The little information they had received, was that some men were returning home, and everyone was desperate for it to be their loved ones. She practically crashed against the fence, unable to slow herself down beforehand, arriving just in time to see the train doors opening, and men pouring onto the platform. She was trying to catch her breath as she watched them all sulk towards the indoor part of the station, her eyes hysterically scanning over each face. “There’s so few of them.” She gasped, turning briefly to address the woman by her side. “Why is there so few of them?” “They’ve come from Dunkirk.” The nervous woman answered. Suddenly, it was like she couldn’t breathe at all, looking back out to the boys as they slowly made their way home. She thought that she would see smiles. She thought she would be able to see how happy they all were to be home, but they all seemed so sad. Defeated. Only a few of the men darted to the side to greet their loved ones, the rest keeping their heads down and just going inside, ushered by a man who looked as though he held some authority. Evelyn watched with wistful eyes as the young men hugged their families over the gates that held them apart, clearly glad to be home but still looking totally distraught. By what had happened. By what they’d seen. By everything. She watched wistfully as the woman she’d just spoken to clutched her son’s cheeks, tears in both their eyes, and she couldn’t help but smile. There was something so heartbreakingly beautiful about that tender, and totally silent moment they were sharing. Slowly, she took her eyes back to the train, seeing that there were only a few men left onboard. “C’mon, Alex.” She whispered encouragingly. “Please, please, please be home. Please.” She was losing hope. With each miserable man that stepped off the train, she was losing hope. This wasn’t the first time a train full of men had come back, each from different locations, wherever the whispers of war had called them, and each time Evelyn had showed her face at the station hoping that he’d be one of them. But thus far, no luck. She kept telling herself in her mind over and over again that there had been no flowers. His mother hadn’t received a telegram and there had been no damn flowers. Even if he didn’t get off this train, he was alive and she knew that. Deep down, she knew that. But there were these swirling doubts that she couldn’t silence. The thought that a telegram could be on its way. Or maybe it had gotten lost somewhere. Or maybe he was badly hurt and she just didn’t know. All she could say to herself as comfort, was that there were no flowers outside his home, but it wasn’t enough. It was only a split second before she lost all hope, that she spotted him, his head down, covered in what appeared to be dirt, looking just as lifeless and shattered as the rest of them. Her heart was thundering against her chest, half convinced that the image of the boy she loved was just an illusion; her aching mind playing tricks on her and projecting this image of him just to soothe her soul somewhat. But he was real. And he was home. He was practically kicking the stone beneath his feet as he walked towards the station, seeming just as, if not more, down than the others. But he was there and he was real and he was alive and he was home and Evelyn’s heart had bunched up so tightly in her throat, she couldn’t pluck up the stamina to speak quite as soon as she’d hoped. She attempted once, weak and fragile and broken, and then finally barked his name loud enough. “Alex!” Without stopping moving, he turned his head, catching a glimpse of her, an unreadable emotion jammed onto his hurt features, and before she could even smile at him, he dropped his head, and just walked into the station. She felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. He had merely looked at her, and then dropped his head again. No smile. Not even a nod of acknowledgement. There was nothing. Her heart fell from her throat with a thud, crashing back into its original place, cracking on impact. For the first time in years, he’d looked at her like he didn’t even know her. What she was feeling in that moment, stood there, completely alone, was the total opposite of how she thought she would feel if he was to ever get off one of those trains. It was agonizing. - We shall never surrender… - “He’s a coward.” Joyce spoke with an eyeroll as they worked. Evelyn had just shared the story of what had happened the day previous at the train station. The way that Alex barely acknowledged her. She had considered waiting for him outside the station, but after such a cold reception from him, she hadn’t wanted to put herself through even more pain. She’d half expected him to appear in the middle of the night; to throw stones at her window and request her time once more. But he never had. She wanted to tell the tale because she knew it would feel like a weight from her shoulders, spreading her sorrow evenly with the women who worked beside her in the factory, and yet even though she was choosing to share the story, she felt a need to defend him. “He’s not a coward.” She mumbled, shaking her head. “He’s just… never been good at processing… how he feels.” “That’s not an excuse!” Mary joined in. “It’s not.” Joyce agreed. “Before he left, he told you he loved you, Eve. He can’t… finally come home, and act like you don’t exist.” “He’d just gotten off the train, he was probably-” “You’re around some extremely headstrong women, Evelyn.” Mary chuckled. “There’s no use trying to change our mind on him quite yet.” Mary was much older than the rest of the girls in that certain section of the factory, but she’d bonded with all of them very easily. Evelyn viewed her as a wise woman, someone who she could go to and seek advice. She was incredibly headstrong. She had told the girls a few months earlier, that she’d learnt her husband was having an affair a few years ago, and she kicked him out without a second thought. It was practically unheard of, that a woman would be so bold and do that. He was the sole breadwinner that provided for their family, but she didn’t care. She had forced him out and she had found work and she had survived, happily, without him. Evelyn admired Mary, and would listen to her words of advice. “He’ll come to me when he’s ready.” She sighed. “When the time is right.” Most of the girls surrounding her nodded, except Mary, who stopped her work for a brief moment so she could turn to face her and address the issue properly. “Things shouldn’t always be on his terms, Evelyn.” She began. “His gender means nothing. It gives him no authority. The sooner you learn that, the better. You shouldn’t feel as though you need to wait for him to come to you. You’re a part of this, and you have a right to voice how you’re feeling. Approach him. Do not wait for him. If he really is that bad at handling his feelings, you might be waiting forever.” Evelyn thought back to the night before he left for war. It took that fear, for him to finally admit his feelings, and even so, it had to be at a certain time in a certain place and in a certain way, because Alex planned things meticulously in his mind. He would predict how things should be. She didn’t want to have to wait for fear to strike once more so that he would pluck up the courage and reach out to her. She didn’t want to have to play out a plan that he hadn’t even involved her in. As much as she didn’t want to hurt him or crush expectations, because she knew he didn’t handle that sort of thing well, it had reached the stage where she couldn’t hold back and let him have his way. Her emotions and her future with him was at stake, and she couldn’t wait any longer. “You’re right.” She agreed through a sigh. “I shouldn’t just work on his schedule.” “Go to him.” Joyce encouraged, giggling like they were creating some grand plan. Evelyn nodded, forcing a smile and trying to convince the girls that she was excited and confident about their new plot, but she wasn’t. She was nervous. About every single aspect of it. - In a life and death struggle, we cannot afford to leave our destinies in the hands of failures. - She had planned to go much earlier, really. She had planned to finish work, and eat, and then go to his home and speak things over with him, as calmly as she could. But that hadn’t happened. A few things held her back; the thought of his mother being one of them. As the evening grew older, she could feel an anger bubbling up inside of her, and she didn’t want to go around and yell at the boy whilst his mother was there, experiencing the first full day of her son being home from war. She didn’t want to interrupt that. And of course, her nerves had held her back. She’d never done anything like this before in her whole life, to be so purposefully confrontational and to seek out someone in that way. And she was terrified that he would somehow just ignore her presence again, turn her away and ignore everything that they’d spoken about the evening before he left. She feared he’d grown to regret the things he’d said to her, that he’d gone away and experienced so much and learnt so much and realised he no longer wanted a life with her. She was apprehensive about the whole thing, so it must have been way past midnight by the time she finally worked up the momentum to go and see him. She built up the confidence on the short journey, and went from tiptoeing through those familiar streets, to storming through them, fire erupting beneath her heel with each heated march. She was finally allowing herself to feel angry. His home was a little out of the centre of the village, a small bungalow set back upon a large bed of grass, standing lonely and dark. It had always looked slightly out of place compared to the other cottages that were nearby, but completely at home where it was. It blended with the nature around it, weeds climbing and clutching at the roots of his home, ivy climbing proud and unevenly across the front. It was unkept, really, and that was why it looked so idyllic in its location. Evelyn took a moment to stare at it, before she began her approach. She knew which one his bedroom was, so she went to the window, darting down the right hand side of the house and extending her arm upwards so she could knock aggressively against the weak glass. She must have only left it five seconds before she was knocking again. It wasn’t long after that he appeared, ripping the curtains back, eyes tired and half shut, body bare, glaring from the dark room down to her. She tried not to weaken at that sight alone, his broad frame and scruffy hair, his weary eyes. She ticked her head to the side, summoning him to meet her at the front of the house, and she began her venture there before she could even acknowledge if he was going to grant her request. She stood on the gravel footpath that lead to his front door, a few feet away from the door, arms held behind her back waiting for him to appear, which he soon did. He hadn’t dressed himself, rubbing over his eyes and just wearing some baggy, knee length drawers; the only thing covering his frame. He woke himself as much as possible before he spoke. “Eve-” “If you’ve changed your mind, and if you don’t want a future with me anymore, I have a right to know.” “What?” “But you cannot just… ignore me. Turn your head away from me like you don’t even know me. Once again, Alex, it seems you struggle to take into consideration my feelings. You’re acting like a child, and being selfish, again. Well I won’t stand for it anymore. I have a right to know what’s going on here, and I deserve a bit of recognition from you. You hurt me yesterday.” “I never want to hurt you.” “Then stop doing it. How did you think I would feel?” He took a step further outdoors, closing the door behind himself, because Evelyn’s voice was gradually getting louder as she became more frustrated. “I… I don’t know. I was-” “You hurt me yesterday.” She reiterated. “You looked right through me. My heart has been aching enough. I have missed you so terribly, and worried about you every single day. To see you get home and… and glance at me like I was a stranger when I’ve done nothing but think of you. Why did you do that?” With his head low, he looked to her, words failing him, his jaw clenching and his temples pulsing. It didn’t even look like he was struggling to find the right words, really, more like he genuinely didn’t have anything to say to her. She waited, but got nothing from him. “I deserve more than a vacant stare.” She fumed. “I deserve the love you promised you would give me before you left.” “And that’s all I want to give you.” He finally answered, quiet but clear. “Then why don’t you act like it?” And then just like that, he was back to being quiet, still staring at her and becoming breathless at the sight of her moving backwards, but saying nothing at all. She didn’t doubt for a second that he was struggling. She didn’t doubt that his months away had been treacherous and difficult and maybe he didn’t deserve her angry words fully. But this wasn’t about what he deserved, it was about what she deserved. She shook her head, disappointed by his actions, or lack thereof, once again, and then turned on her heel. “Don’t leave.” He called as she walked away. “If you have nothing to say then nor do I.” She heard his desperate footsteps to follow her, before she felt him tug at her arm, pulling her back around to face him, his cheeks bright red, and she could feel him shaking. “I SAID DON’T LEAVE!” He growled. “GIVE ME A GOOD REASON NOT TO!” She seethed right back at him. “I’M FUCKING ASHAMED, EVE!” Her face finally dropped, eyes wide as she gazed up to him, their faces only inches apart. “LOOK AT ME! I’M HOME AND I HAVE… NOTHING TO SHOW FOR WHAT I’VE JUST BEEN THROUGH! We… We lost!” “You didn’t lose. You’re home! You’re alive!” “That’s not enough!” He shrieked. “Evelyn, you don’t understand what it was like out there! It’s not just… the things I saw and what happened, it’s… some of the things that I did. Who I… was, and how I acted… I couldn’t… I couldn’t face you because a part of me feels like I’m not the person you remember anymore. I’m so ashamed of what happened there, and… I’m still trying to process things and-” He dropped his head, throat bulbous, and he was crying. She’d never seen him like that before. She knew him, through and through. She’d spoken to him and shared with him about trying times, and yet she’d never seen him cry. It had never been in his nature. He’d been the man of the house basically his entire life, and he’d taken the role seriously. He was stronger than he realised. So she was in a state of shock, seeing him that way. Seeing him just break, and be so vulnerable. Seeing the way he rushed to wipe those tears away, and how he was still trying to deny his sorrow. He was hurting. “I thought about you all the time.” He continued, looking back into her eyes, and she tried to see past his tears and just look right back. “I so wanted to… come home, and be with you, but then actually seeing you… I feel like I let everyone down. I feel like I let myself down and I let you down and… I don’t know how to deal with this. I saw you and… I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t… I thought you would be disappointed in me.” “Why would I ever feel that way?” She cried, reaching upwards and grasping at his cheek. “How can you not feel that way?” “I don’t care, Alex! I just wanted you home! And now you are and we can… do what we planned and we can-” “The wars not over, Eve.” He shook his head, tears now making their calm journey down his cheeks, warm as they curved over Evelyn’s gentle touch. “We only have so long before… I’m called out again. I’m not home forever.” “But you’re home for now! And I don’t want to lose this opportunity whilst it’s here. Please…” He nodded, his tears falling a little quicker, his heart aching. He could barely remember the confidence he had before he left, the strange sense of excitement over fighting for his country and proving himself. It seemed so unrecognizable now. So foreign and naive and stupid. He sobbed a little harder before he managed to speak. “I missed you so much.” He blubbered. “Sometimes… it was like I could see you there, and…” She moved her hand to feel through his short hair, pushing him forward somewhat so that his forehead met hers, breathing him in, her anger completely annihilated and replaced by this utter need to care for him, to soothe him as much as she could. Hesitantly, he moved his lips forward, the pink flesh soon landing against hers, tears still falling from his bloodshot eyes as he placed his trembling hands upon her neck, and kissed her fully. He'd had such a brief and beautiful taste of her before he left, and he’d forgotten the feeling her lips introduced to his entire body. And it had augmented, thanks to his experiences on the beaches of Dunkirk. The feeling was now more extreme, frightening but calming, elusive but overwhelming. “I missed you.” He spoke desperately to her mouth. “I love you.” He became lost in her, which was exactly what he wanted. That kiss was the very first thing that took him away from battle, and suddenly all that existed was her, and him, and the gorgeous feelings that vacillated down his spine and caused his heart to thunder. His hands searched down the girl he loved, soon gripping at her waist and hoisting her body upwards. She hovered that way briefly, before wrapping her legs around his waist, hands gripping onto his hair, moaning lightly against his tongue. The wind picked up, but neither of them noticed. It moved around them, tangling through their hair and stroking over their skin, but the gales were barely acknowledged by the two of them. Because they finally had each other, and for the first time in their lives, and for a few brief moments, there was absolutely nothing else. - I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity. - The bedsheets were light upon their naked bodies, Evelyn’s hand resting upon Alex’s chest as she lay at his side, gazing to him in wonder as he stared up to the ceiling. He had one hand wedged beneath his head and pillow, the other down at his side; his fingers stroking over her bare stomach and continuously creating shudders and shakes that made her feel sick at the same time as feeling perfect. She looked over their heads briefly before gazing at him once again. “Sun’s coming up.” She whispered. “I should probably go soon.” “Stay a little while longer.” He turned his head to her. “I don’t really want this night to end.” “I don’t either.” She smiled. “That was perfect. Thank you.” “I don’t know why I’m asking this, because I’m not sure I want to hear the answer…” He smiled. “But… am I your first?” She nodded shyly, her cheeks the brightest shade of pink that he had ever seen, his smile growing even more. “Am I yours?” She returned. “You are.” He cooed. “I always… sort of wanted to wait until I was married, but… if it’s going to be anyone, it’s going to be you.” “If?” He turned on his side, reaching his hand upwards and stroking his thumb beneath her eye, and when he stared at her like that she felt totally naked, in different ways to how she actually was. He saw her exactly how she was, like he could search within her soul and bury himself there. “What if I don’t come home next time?” He mumbled. “I went through… so much out there, and that was… me getting lucky! I’m scared that… the next time I get called out… that might be it.” The deluded assurance that Alex had before Dunkirk was nowhere to be seen. All that was left, was a frightened young boy who felt as though death was looming over his shoulder, its breath fluttering the hairs at the back of his neck and causing his skin to prick upwards. Everything had changed. Evelyn had found it hard to stomach his confidence before he left, but this was even worse. She was lost for words. “I’m gunna keep fighting,” He tried to reassure. “And I’m gunna do everything I can to… get home to you, and… marry you. Give you the future you deserve.” “You have to keep fighting.” She stroked her thumb across his bottom lip. “You have to do what you need to do to get home.” “I’m just… scared. I’m so scared.” She nodded, understanding his fear, and there was no point disputing it or trying to convince him that everything would be okay, because neither of them had a definite answer. Neither of them felt confident about him leaving. They didn’t even know how long the war would last. It could go on for years. “How long do you think you’ll be home for?” “Maybe a few weeks. I’m not sure. But we’ll make the most of it.” “Don’t turn away from me again, please. I know you’re scared, but-” “I won’t. M’yours now, until the second I leave. I promise.” He leaned inwards and kissed her again, cupping her jaw and moving his lips with hers. Alex felt amazing being back with her. He hadn’t known how to process seeing her again when he got off that train, but he was so thankful she’d appeared at his window and forced him to face her. He felt so broken being home, so beaten and low, and it turned out she was the only thing that could help him to feel better. She made being home feel like a good thing, rather than a defeat. His wide smile interrupted their tender moment, breaking their kiss apart delightfully, and she giggled appreciatively. “I missed you.” Evelyn told him sweetly. “I missed you so much.” He hushed, unable to diminish him smile. “S’been strange round here without you.” She told him, nuzzling her nose against his. “Not… It’s not really felt like home.” “Has Richard been home?” He queried. A part of Evelyn had just predicted that they’d have been through the war together, in the way that Richard and Alex had been through everything together. She distanced from him a little, struggling to grip at the implications of his question. “What?” She trembled. “I dunno where he was sent.” Alex continued, unaware. “I was wondering if he’s had any time home yet. Is he home now?” There was a small part of him that figured out what she was going to say before she managed to say it. He could see it, watch the words tremble upon her lips before they formed into coherent noises. He heard the shattering sound of the news before it was broken to him. He knew. “Alex…” She stroked her fingers affectionately down the side of his neck. “Ri… Richard is dead.” His brows creased to the centre, and all he could do in that moment was reject the information she’d given him. His automatic reaction was to fight the news, convince himself that she was lying. He had worried about Richard, because he was not the type who could ever be prepared for war. The only reason he’d volunteered, was so that he was at Alex’s side, supporting his best friend as he tried to do his late father, and his country proud. That was the only reason he’d put his name forward, and the simple fact that he’d be called to fight regardless. Alex had thought he was ready for war, until he was experiencing it. Richard had always known that he wasn’t. “No.” He rejected. “Eve, no.” “I’m sorry.” She moved closer, so that her lips grazed his. “I’m so sorry, Alex, but… it’s true, he died, I’m sorry!” “But… I would… He didn’t… He can’t be-” It was only when he saw tears rolling down her cheeks that he found himself believing it. He could see how much it was hurting her, having to tell him, and that was how he grew to accept that he’d lost his oldest friend. It pained him, that he had to learn that way. He had been completely and blissfully unaware of the death until that very moment. He should have known. He should have been one of the first to know. For a moment, before he could be upset, he was merely angry. He hated the fucking war. He hated everything that it had brought, other than it being the final force that had placed him in the arms of the girl he loved. “They lay flowers outside his house.” She whispered. “It was beautiful, Alex. We said goodbye in the only way we could.” “Flowers?” He questioned, trying to restrain the tears in his eyes. “It’s something we do.” She sighed, her fingers tangling in his hair. “When we hear about deaths… everyone around the village will lay flowers outside their homes. I… I walked the long way to work every day… just so I could… make sure there were no flowers here.” He stared at her grief-stricken face, and all he knew was that he wanted to make sure she never had to walk past and see flowers outside his home. He would fight with everything he had left in him, to ensure that his house would remain bare, and he wouldn’t have to break her heart in such fashion. He was scared and unsure about returning to his duties, undoubtedly lacking faith, but he would do everything within his immediate power to stay alive, and get home. He knew that beforehand; though doubts had drowned him and pulled his assurance to the depths of the ocean, he had always known he would fight to get back to her. But with the mental image in his mind, of Evelyn walking to work one day and seeing those flowers marking his death, those susceptible wishes were stimulated further. He couldn’t put her through that. “We’ve lost so many people.” She whispered. “We can’t lose each other.” He returned. “I can’t let that happen.” She snuggled further into his snare, ignoring the morning that got brighter with each passing second, aware that she’d have to sneak from his home before his mother and her father greeted the new day, and for a while, they simply pretended that their existence was theirs. They needn’t fear the outside world and the danger it flourished with patriotic pride. They took that feeling that appeared when they were together, and forced themselves to focus on nothing else. They continued that way, for only a fortnight. Two short, idyllic weeks, where they loved one another freely. There would be the occasional moment where the two of them forgot about the war completely, but those moments never lasted. They were always brief, but blissful, beautiful. There were times where Alex was lucky enough to feel like a young boy again, flirting innocently with Eve in her father’s shop, watching her blush and kissing the back of her hand. They spent most evenings together down by the river, where he always managed to feel calm and safe. They made love to one another, sneaking from one house to the next in the middle of the night, and her kiss was forever coaxing and beautiful, a blessing upon his pink lips. Those two weeks, were everything he had ever wanted, and everything he hoped for in his future. But then once again, he had to return to the train that took him back to the terror and turmoil of combat. He had finally been able to kiss her over the fence at the station, holding onto the back of her neck and praying that he wouldn’t have to leave, that some kind of announcement would made in that very second his skin began to slip from hers. But there were battles to be fought in the Middle East, and it was his duty to fight them. He whispered that he loved her one final time, knowing that the only thing stopping her from returning those words of love were the tears the journeyed down her cheeks and forced her throat to knot, and he finally found the strength to distance from her. Reluctantly, and with tears in his eyes, he boarded the train.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

I’ll Take Her Place (Chapter 11)

Summary:  AU. When Allura breaks the news that she is to wed Prince Lotor in order to continue the peaceful relationship between Altea and Daibazaal, Pidge knows that she has to do something to change that. And so, with a little help, she comes up with a new plan. A better plan

Pairings: Keith/Pidge (main) ; Shiro/Allura (minor), Hunk/Lance (minor) ; Lotor/Allura (one-sided)

Chapter 1 - Previous - Masterpost

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net

It’s been a few days past my goal of two weeks, but I’m okay with that. (It’s better than taking a whole month.) And this chapter still ended up being almost double that of chapter 10??? It took me all day with just a few breaks to type this up, but it was worth it. 

Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Pidge hummed as she pulled up the coding for Rover's artificial intelligence, her keen eyes scanning over it for any clue about her beloved robot's continued instability. It was an insult to her programming skills that she'd been unable to solve such a simple problem.

Maybe it wasn't the programming. Maybe there was some crucial piece (or pieces) missing. The sentry had been pretty trashed when she picked it up, but she'd been so sure that she'd gathered everything she needed to complete her pet project. Pidge may have to put in a word to her suppliers and see if they had anything.

She was contemplating accessing their secure line to see if they were in the area, when the door to the Green Lion's hangar slid open and Allura and Lance stepped inside looking positively giddy. Pidge's eyes were drawn to the simple brown package in Lance's and she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“It's finished already?” she asked, turning away from her desk.

Lance nodded, hurrying over to her in his eagerness to hand over his gift. “I gave Nilani the design a while ago, but couldn't find a good reason to get her to make it for you. Now, I do!” He held it out to her as Allura caught up to him.

Pidge accepted the package and slowly peeled away the tape, knowing the anticipation was killing her friends.

After several days of deliberation and looking at the work of several of the royal tailors and dressmakers, Pidge found herself gravitating towards the work of Lance's personal favorite – a half-Altean girl named Nilani, who'd developed a fascination with Earth culture and welcomed the challenge of designing for them. The parcel Lance had brought her was the first finished example of her work and Pidge didn't have the faintest clue how it was going to look.

While Lance squirmed, Allura stood with a beaming smile and her hands clasped in front of her, a sure sign that the princess was struggling to maintain her calm and cool appearance.

Pidge raised her eyes to meet Lance's as she leisurely lifted up the first layer of wrapping.

“You are a cruel friend,” Lance informed her.

Pidge laughed and finally ripped the paper away, eager to see it for herself. She saw the rich purple first – not too dark, but not too pink either. As she held it up, her attention was down to the wide panel of white down the center of the dress. The fabric itself flowed smoothly and was just the right thickness that it would drape nicely over her body.

“You liked the one I found at Space Mall, so I picked a style similar to that. The sleeves are longer, because I thought that might be more comfortable for you, and I think the skirt is shorter, so if you don't like it-”

“Lance,” Pidge interrupted because he could get too carried away. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her new dress, so similar to the one she'd worn for Matt's graduation, just before he and their dad left on the Kerberos mission. “I... I love it. It's like having a piece of home.”

(A piece of her old self. Of Katie, the girl who dreamed of being a pilot and finding out for herself what the stars had to teach her.)

Lance looked relieved.

Pidge stood and tried to hold the dress against herself so they could get a better look, but doing so with one arm proved a bigger challenge than she expected. She messily tucked the left side beneath the sling to hold it in place and then didn't dare move or risk it slipping free.

“It's beautiful,” Allura complimented. “Though it may cause a bit of a stir if people see you wearing Prince Keithir's colors so soon.”

Pidge wasn't really sure how she felt about that. A few weeks ago and she likely would have set the dress aside, burying it somewhere deep within her closet until she was sure she could look at it without feeling uncomfortable. However, after everything they'd been through, after the very nice evenings she'd spent in his company the past few days, she found she didn't mind so much.

“Speaking of Prince Keithir, how are things going with him?” Allura asked, genuinely curious.

“Good, I think,” Pidge said. “We're actually talking to each other now.” She folded up her new dress to the best of her ability and put it on the corner of her desk where she was sure to remember to pick it up and take it back to her room later.

“Does that mean you'll stop glaring at the floor whenever someone mentions wedding stuff?” Lance asked.

“I don't-! I didn't!” Pidge sputtered in protest.

“You did,” Allura and Lance said in unison. They looked at each other and grinned.

Pidge slumped in her chair as she sat back down. “Ugh, I did, didn't I?” she asked rhetorically.

As much as she wanted to blame being in pain for her dour mood towards anything wedding related, it had honestly started before her injury. She was learned hard and fast that just because she'd voluntarily offered herself up in Allura's place, it didn't mean a part of her wasn't still resentful for that.

“It's not too late, you know,” Allura reminded her, her voice soft. “Empress Honerva bought you three months for an official courtship. If either of you decides it isn't something you can go through with, no one would fault you for breaking it off.”

“But then you'd have to marry Lotor,” Lance said before Pidge had a chance to find the words.

Allura closed her eyes. She breathed in deeply and then slowly let it out. “Yes, I would.”

“That's not going to happen,” Pidge said with steel in her voice. She twisted her chair around so she was facing her computer screen, which meant she completely missed the twin expressions of surprise from Allura and Lance. “I won't let that happen to you, Allura. Besides, Keithir isn't so bad. I could be... content with him.”

Content.

She could see having a fantastic friendship with him, even with their rocky start, but that didn't mean they would fall in love and live happily ever after. They were two very different people, with just enough in common that they could get along and work well together, but that was all she saw.

Allura and Lance left soon after, giving Pidge more time alone with her thoughts.

Pidge worked until her stomach rumbled so loudly that she could no longer ignore it. She saved her progress and shut down her equipment before stretching carefully to release some of the stiffness in her back that had built up from sitting still for so long. Before leaving, she made sure to grab her dress and stuff it into a bag alongside a file of blueprints to work on back in her room, and then she was off to Hunk's kitchen.

When she arrived, she found Shiro dressed in full armor, calmly leaving instructions with the others. Hunk and Lance were notably not wearing their armor.

“What's going on?” Pidge asked.

Hunk looked as though he was struggling not to laugh. “Uh, someone mentioned bringing Slav in to look at the cryo-pods. Kolivan just came and told us that he's agreed to fly over here, but only if Shiro's the one to pick him up.”

Pidge chanced a quick glance at Shiro's face and had to hide her grin when she saw his eye twitch at the mention of Slav's name. As much as the crazy genius drove all of them up the wall, no one handled it worse than Shiro. There was something about Slav that pushed every single one of his buttons in the worst way. What made it better (to everyone else) was how much Slav loved the Black Paladin, probably because he was the only one willing to go above and beyond to fulfill his ridiculous conditions.

“I'll be gone for a few days, but that doesn't mean you three can slack off,” Shiro said sternly. “Allura will oversee your training while I'm away. Even yours, Pidge. You're still capable of running laps.”

Suddenly Pidge wished she was still confined to a bed. Training under Allura's guidance was bound to be a hellish experience. Even after three years of working together, the princess still forgot that their stamina and strength wasn't equal to that of Alteans and would push them until they couldn't stand.

Lance groaned, vocalizing everyone's thoughts on the matter. “Are you sure we can't take a tiny break? A few days wouldn't hurt, right?”

His question at least make Shiro smile and Pidge wondered for a moment if it was his way of getting revenge for their obvious delight that he was the one going to get Slav. She pushed the thought away. Shiro wasn't that petty.

(Yes. Yes he was.)

Pidge's stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly, reminding her of the reason why she'd let her hangar. She blushed as everyone turned to look at her.

“Hunk, you're in charge of making sure everyone eats properly,” Shiro said, sounding mildly amused.

That was an instruction the Yellow Paladin was happy to agree to.

It wasn't uncommon for conversation to come to an abrupt stop when Keithir walked into a room, whether he was in the royal palace on Daibazaal or at home in the Blade headquarters. So when he exited his room and Thace and Kolivan went silent as they turned to regard his arrival, he wasn't surprised.

“You should hear this,” Kolivan told him.

Keithir had been fully prepared to step out for a few minutes to let them wrap up, so he was pleasantly surprised by their invitation to learn more about what was happening. Even if it turned out to have nothing to do with the assassination attempt, it was still nice to be involved in something after being shut out for most of the week. He joined them, trying not to seem overeager.

“Part of my mission was meeting with an informant who has news from someone close to Lotor,” Thace explained. “According to him, Lotor returned straight home to Daibazaal after leaving Altea. There have been no noteworthy changes to his behavior and he hasn't met with anyone unusual. By all appearances, he had nothing to do with the attempt on your life.”

“But who else could it be?” Keithir's question came out as a demand. He flicked his ears back and looked away, waiting for the reprimand about keeping a level head.

“We doubt Lotor is innocent in this matter, which is why we will continue to investigate him. It is much more likely that this has been planned for some time, but certain events have caused him to act hastily,” Kolivan explained, crossing his arms over his chest.

Thace shifted uneasily. “What worries me is how quickly his plans have adapted to the currant situation. Ulaz is certain that Lotor is behind the malfunctioning cryo-pods. It cannot be coincidence that it happened the same day you agreed to marry Pidge, though it seems unlike him to make such an obvious move. I believe the two of you have taken him by surprise more than anyone expected,” he said, sounding a little proud. “This is the best opportunity we've had in years.”

“It has also become clear that Lotor is not working alone. We've suspected as much, but the sniper confirms it. Furthermore, the ease in which they avoided being caught suggests that it was the work of two people, rather than one. If he truly hasn't been seen meeting with anyone, they are far more than hired goons given the task of killing you. They have his trust,” Kolivan said.

The clear worry in his voice struck Keithir with vivid shock.

“You and Lady Katherine must remain vigilant.”

Keithir's stomach churned at the thought of it. It was one thing for his life to be in danger, but the reminder that Katie was just as big of a target as he was made him feel ill.

Logically, he knew she was fully capable of taking care of herself. He'd heard stories of the Green Paladin's courage and ingenuity in the face of adversity and had seen a spark of that for himself. In a fight, there was no question that she could hold her ground and come out the winner in the end.

But Lotor was a different battle. He was clever and didn't pull his punches, striking wherever he found a weakness to exploit. He had strategy and finesse on his side, as well as years of experience thanks to careful training. (He was raised to be the future Emperor, after all.) Keithir had never met anyone who was able to out-think his brother, and even with her quick thinking and brilliant mind, he wasn't sure even Katie had a chance.

“We've sent for Slav,” Kolivan told him. “He'll arrive soon to see what he can do about the healing pods and then we'll have one less thing to worry about. That leaves us with two more days of vulnerability. If Lotor has anything else planned for us, he'll strike before then.”

Pidge stealthily made her way through the halls, ducking out of sight whenever she was about to encounter a guard or one of the Blade. It was unlikely that anyone would stop her, but if word got back to her friends that she was leaving the Castle to go down to port on her own, without any additional protection and her wound still healing, they'd probably lock her up until Shiro returned. (Admittedly, that wouldn't be too long, as Shiro was due to return that evening, but she'd still rather avoid it.)

Just a little further and she would be free.

“What are you doing?”

Pidge barely withheld a shriek of surprise, spinning around to find the source of the voice. She spotted them quickly, tucked away in one of the small alcoves which seemed to serve no purpose except to break up the monotony of the otherwise straight corridor.

“Keith,” she breathed in relief.

He pushed his hood back and deactivated his mask. “It's dangerous to go out on your own.”

Her relief at seeing her friend quickly shifted to frustration. She was so tired of everyone trying to baby her and tell her what she could or couldn't do. She was a Paladin! There was always danger waiting for her, but that didn't mean she had to cower in her room out of fear!

Pidge turned away from him and kept walking. “I'm just going to see some friends. I won't be long.”

Swift footsteps followed behind her. Keith made no effort to hide the fact that he was following her.

“I don't need a baby-sitter, Keith!” she snapped.

Keith caught her by the arm, tugging her to a stop. “Are you insane? You have no idea how dangerous Lotor is! He's not going to pull any punches just because you're injured! You can't go out there by yourself!”

Pidge ripped her arm from his hold, frustration mounting to rage. “You can't tell me what to do!” Her voice echoed down the hall, much louder than she intended. Her face reddened slightly, but she held her ground.

Keith, it seemed, wasn't going to back down either. (Pidge wondered later if it was because he was used to dealing with an equally stubborn prince.) “Just listen to me! Lotor is done playing games. He's going to use every advantage he can take and you going out there by yourself is playing directly into his hands! You're going to get yourself killed, Katie!”

His use of her real name made her feel as though she'd been doused in cold water. So few people called her by that name anymore – Keithir was the only one, actually – and it was enough to make her stop and think.

“Please don't go by yourself,” he said, his voice a little softer. “It doesn't have to be me, but don't go alone.”

Pidge closed her eyes and took a moment to breath and calm herself. She wouldn't let herself be ruled by anger. It had a horrible way of getting her to yell at people who didn't deserve it and muddying her normally logical thought process.

“I guess having backup wouldn't be so bad... Just stay close and try not to draw attention to yourself,” Pidge told him, eyeing his dark uniform. They had little hope of not standing out, but if they acted natural, no one would watch them closely.

Keith fell into step next to her as they left the Castle. A heavy and strained silence stretched between them, hanging on by a fragile thread that neither of them was ready to break.

Pidge was still steamed about how he tried to order her around, as though she was a child who needed to be coddled and protected because she couldn't do it herself. It didn't matter how much time had passed. It didn't matter that she was considered an adult by most cultures, on Earth or otherwise. She doubted she would ever shake the paranoia of others treating her like she was too young.

“Who's this friend you're risking your life to see?” Keith asked.

“Friends,” Pidge corrected, ignoring the obvious jab. “They're kind of my suppliers for unusual tech that I re-purpose for my own use. Sometimes they bring me interesting news.”

Keith looked impressed. “They're your informants?”

“In a way. They're able to fly under the radar, so they pick up on tidbits no one else hears about. Sometimes it's useful. Sometimes it's just rumor. It's easy to pick out which is which when the rumors are usually something like Commander Sendak being spotted vacationing at the spa on Traxia's twelfth moon.”

Keith chuckled. “That does sound unlike him.”

“Yeah, I always figured he was the sort to enjoy fighting more than anything else. If anything, a spa day would be like torture to him,” Pidge said jokingly.

The two fell quiet again as they reached a more crowded area. Keith moved a little closer to her, his sharp eyes watching out for anyone who looked suspicious. Pidge pressed on, knowing exactly where she was going as she led the way through the winding streets packed with people.

They walked for some time, but eventually she spotted the old junker parked on the edge of port. Grinning, she strode forward to greet the blue-skinned alien who was moving boxes off of the ship.

“For a while I was afraid I'd have to come bail you out of trouble again,” Pidge called out.

The alien stood up straight and lazily smirked in her direction. “I'd be flattered if I didn't know the real reason you'd come to our rescue. Beezer's helping Nyma with a few things inside right now.” His gaze slid to Keith, who stood rigidly at Pidge's side. He raised an eyebrow. “Who's your shadow?”

“This is Keith. Keith, this is Rolo,” Pidge introduced. “So, you said you found something for me?”

“Straight to business, as usual,” Rolo teased. “But yeah, we picked p those parts you asked for the last time we were here and I think Nyma has some spare pieces for your sentry. You two come on in and I'll find them for you.”

Keith's gaze flickered to Pidge, who followed Rolo onto the ship with a bounce in her step, wrapped up in the delight of finally getting to start the projects she'd been postponing due to lack of materials. (Sure, she could ask Allura for all of the Altean tech she could dream of, and had done so more than once, but there was something infinitely more fulfilling about salvaging stuff that anyone else would declare garbage.)

“Keith, are you coming?”

He finally moved, unsure about walking onto an unfamiliar cargo ship, but willing to trust that Pidge wouldn't deliberately lead him into a trap.

“Nyma, Pidge is here!” Rolo called towards the front. At his words, a faint barrier built itself across the ramp of the ship, cutting them off from the outside world.

Keith's hand immediately went to his dagger as he slid into a defensive position, fully prepared to fight his way out.

Rolo caught sight of the movement and raised an eyebrow. “Twitchy, isn't he?” he remarked to Pidge.

She looked back, her eyes going soft when she saw him. “Keith, it's fine. The barrier just prevents anyone from listening in to what we're saying. It's not keeping us stuck inside. See?” She stuck her hand through it to prove her point.

Keith relaxed at her demonstration, a little embarrassed by his reaction, and let his arms rest back at his sides.

“You obviously have more than parts for me today,” Pidge said as she walked over to stand next to Keith. “What's going on?”

Rolo leaned back against a wall before he started talking. “We've started to hear talk about rebellion in the Outer Reaches. Seems there's a couple of planets willing to band together and 'take back what's rightfully theirs'. Mostly we figure they're talking about the colony planets and stations held by Altea and Daibazaal. They've never been fond of either spreading their influences that far, but this is the first time anyone has dared rally against them.”

Keith frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “You're talking about the Napamku Quadrant.”

Rolo nodded.

“That's Lotor's territory. The Galra colony and two outposts are under his control, to help him prepare for ruling the empire,” Keith quietly told Pidge. “The Blade's picked up whispers of unease for years, but nothing like this.” He directed his attention back to Rolo and raised his voice so the other could hear him clearly. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn't be telling Pidge if I didn't think it was serious.”

“Kolivan and Shiro need to hear this,” Pidge murmured.

Keith agreed, silently vowing to find Kolivan the moment they returned to the Castle. His sharp eyes were soon drawn to movement behind Rolo and he watched as a female alien joined them with a sealed crate and a small robot at her side.

The robot beeped in excitement when it noticed Pidge and she squealed in response, dropping to her knees as it rolled over to her and playfully bumped against her side until she enveloped it in a one-armed hug.

“It's good to see you too, Beezer! How's the best robot in the whole universe?”

Beezer gave a series of different toned beeps in response.

Nyma watched on with amusement. “Sometimes I think the salvage is just an excuse to see him.”

Pidge was too busy holding a conversation with the robot, though Keith couldn't help bu wonder if she actually understood the little guy or if it was entirely one-sided.

Rolo cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention. “That's not the only rumor we've heard, though the next one have been dismissed as too far-fetched so far. Nyma overheard this one during our stopover at the Fripping Bulgogian. Seems a couple of Galra had a bit too much to drink.”

“They say you've agreed to marry the Galra prince to fully establish ties between Daibazaal and Voltron,” Nyma said, sounding surprisingly uneasy with the idea. “It's not true, is it, Pidge?”

Pidge looked away and that was all the confirmation Nyma needed.

“Be careful, okay? Prince Keithir is said to be kinder than his brother, but that doesn't mean you aren't treading dangerous waters. Getting between them is risky.”

Pidge's shoulder throbbed painfully, as if echoing Nyma's concerns. “Yeah, I know. I'll be careful.” She gave Beezer one last affectionate pat and then stood up. “Anything I can do for you two while you're here?”

“If you could, ask Hunk to come down and help me give this baby a look over,” Rolo requested. “I think she's overdue for a tune up.”

“Sure,” Pidge responded, stepping forward to retrieve the crate of parts from Nyma. She hesitated upon realizing she didn't have a good way to carry it back to the Castle by herself.  She could feel her cheeks heating up as she looked to Keith for help. “Could you...?”

Keith looked a little startled at being asked, but walked over and picked up the crate with ease.

After that, they said their goodbyes and began the long trek back to the Castle.

“Thanks for carrying that for me,” Pidge said after several minutes had passed.

“You're welcome. How were you planning on getting it back by yourself, anyway?” he asked.

“I, uh, didn't really think about that, I guess,” she responded, unable to look at him. “Normally they don't have this much for me and I can just carry it back in my pockets or in a small bag.”

Keith hummed and didn't say anything else for a few minutes until another question struck him. “What's all of this for?”

Pidge instantly brightened at being asked about her projects, something few people dared to bring up anymore. “Some of it's so I can finish my repairs on Rover! Oh, Rover's this Galra sentry that I found and decided to rebuild. He's going to help me around the hangar and keep Hunk from borrowing my things without permission. I've just about got him working properly, but he's not quite there yet. Last time I turned him on he chased Hunk around the room until I told him to stop!” She laughed at the memory. “The rest is for a miniature anti-gravity machine! Ages ago, I found these cute little fuzzy aliens floating around in a scrapyard and brought a few of them back to the Castle with me. The problem is, I can't turn off the gravity in my room, which means all they can do now is crawl around. But, if I can generate an energy field  small enough that it won't interfere with anything else...”

Keith was content to listen to her babble on about her plans, enjoying the way her face lit up as she spoke. He'd been a little taken aback at first. He hadn't expected her to dive right in and explain it with such eagerness. Not to him.

It was clear her tech was something she was very passionate about and in a small way it reminded him of his mother.

Pidge talked the entire way back to the Castle, and while most of it went right over his head, Keith managed to think of a few relevant questions to ask along the way. It was for that reason that Pidge invited him inside of her hangar instead of having him drop it off just inside the door.

“Want to meet Rover?” Pidge asked, already heading towards her workbench.

Keith heard her question, but stood just inside the room, frozen in place at the sight of the Green Lion. He knew the Lions were massive, but to actually see one in person...

Golden eyes seemed to bore straight into his blue-violet ones, almost as if the Lion could see directly into his soul. He shuddered at the thought.

“Greenie, behave,” Pidge called out.

The staring lessened somewhat and Keith willed his legs to move. He carried the crate to the desk and put it down where Pidge told him to, but before he could excuse himself to try and get away from the Green Lion, a pyramid-shaped object flew into his arm and beeped indignantly. And then it repeated the process.

“Like I said,” Pidge said, grabbing Rover before he could carry on. “It's a work-in-progress. I'll have him working perfectly soon.”

Keith watched her gently caress the tiny drone before shutting it down and he couldn't help but smile at her treatment of it. It seemed there was more to her than he'd imagined.

“I found the perfect place to practice!” Allura happily said to Lance, before dragging him from the comfort of the couch and the middle of a huge boss battle.

“But my high score!” he yelped, fumbling with the controller. His head drooped in defeat when it fell from his hands and clattered to the floor.

Lance let Allura drag him down the hall and into a room that was no longer in use. He and Pidge had once tried to turn it into a yoga studio for a bit of lighter exercise, but it didn't last longer than a week.

“So what are we practicing?”

Allura let go of him and gracefully spun around, her hair flowing around her like a rippling silver river. “Dancing, of course! You did say you'd help me so I can properly teach Pidge, remember?”

The memory was coming back to him and Lance grinned as his excitement rose to match hers.

“I know Coran is a little busy today, preparing for Slav's arrival, but I thought we could at least get started with the basics. Once you've got that down, it will be easier to understand what Coran is telling you to do,” Allura said. She held her hands out to Lance, inviting him closer. “Shiro once taught me your Earth 'waltz' and I've found it quite similar to the Galran akríg, so we'll start there.”

Lance hesitantly got into place, his nervousness bleeding from every movement he made. “Like this?”

Allura hummed and adjusted his hand on her waist before beaming up at him. “Perfect! Now, if I remember correctly, you lead.”

“O-oh, right,” Lance stammered, taking another moment before guiding Allura in small, cautious steps. “I think it's like this? Sorry, it's been a while.”

“You're doing fine,” Allura told him.

Emboldened by her confidence in him, Lance relaxed, his movements growing more confident with every minute that passed. Soon, they were gliding around the room, both smiling and carrying on a conversation about how well they thought Shiro was handling getting stuck transporting Slav by himself.

“I feel like he's cooking up a horrific training exercise for us at this very moment,” Lance said with a shiver.

“Only if he hasn't thrown himself out of the Black Lion to escape,” Allura joked.

“You should've gone with him,” Lance told her. “You could've spared him from such a horrible fate and gotten to spend an entire day alone with him in the cockpit, just the two of you.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Romantic.”

Allura rolled her eyes, a dark blush settling over her cheeks at the insinuation. She made no attempt to deny his words as she normally would. “I had considered...” She stopped herself with a shake of her head. “It wouldn't be appropriate. This is for the best, at least for now. Perhaps after the wedding.”

“Do you really want to wait that long?” Lance asked, all trace of playful banter gone. He swallowed a wave of bitterness at the reminder of the situation Pidge had gotten into. “Pidge got you two a second chance. You can't throw that away. You and Shiro... you two are perfect for each other. It's the sort of relationship that people dream about having. So to see you two dance around it, knowing that you both feel the same, it's hard to watch.

“There's always a risk with dating. It... It changes everything and if it doesn't work out, it never goes back to exactly the way it was before. But if you don't take that risk, you might miss out on something wonderful,” Lance said, his voice low. “I was petrified when I realized I was in love with Hunk – in love with my best friend. It could have ruined everything. I was so sure of it. And then... and then that mission happened and all I could think was that I never had the chance to tell him how I really feel and it almost killed me inside.

“So don't wait, Allura. Don't wait until it's almost too late.”

The healing pods were fixed and the twitch in Shiro's right eye promised retribution to his fellow Paladins. Pidge chose to abscond the moment Ulaz proclaimed her shoulder fully healed, abandoning her leader before he could convince her to remain with him while Slav went on about proper pod maintenance and potential improvements.

She would usually be tempted to stick around longer. As crazy as he was, Slav had one of the most brilliant minds she had ever come across and when he actually stayed on topic, talking to him was enjoyable. But she had other plans. Plans she had set into motion earlier that day and was actually kind of excited about.

Up until that point, Keithir had been the one to invite her on their dates. First had been the dinner disaster and then there was the garden stroll, which started out decently, but ended worse than the first. They'd spent several evenings talking in his quarters under the watchful eyes of Thace, but she wasn't counting those as proper dates.

“Third time's the charm,” she said to herself as she walked into the kitchen.

Predictably, Hunk was there, putting the finishing touches on the food she'd asked for. He looked up when she entered and broke out into a huge smile. “You're healed!”

She playfully flexed her left arm, taking delight in the freedom she'd regained. She swore she would never take the cryo-pods for granted again.

“I'm one-hundred percent back to normal!” Pidge said as she joined him at the counter. She breathed in deeply, melting at the delicious smells. “Have I mentioned that you're the best friend ever? Because this is incredible, Hunk.”

Hunk blushed at the praise. “It is pretty great, isn't it,” he said, looking over his hard work with pride. “I hope you don't mind, but I'm borrowing your dinner idea for me and Lance. I found this really cute spot in the southeastern part of the gardens where you get a good view of sunfall and I'm going to surprise him.”

“Aww, that's so sweet!” Pidge said sincerely.

Together the pair packed two picnic baskets, carefully arranging the food inside so nothing would get crushed. Some of it was left behind for Allura and Shiro to enjoy, just in case they decided against joining the King and Queen for dinner.

While Hunk went to track down Lance and whisk him away for a surprise romantic dinner, Pidge gathered up her courage and headed to the room Keithir had been given.

He was waiting for her outside the door, quietly talking to the Blade who was there to protect him. He looked annoyed by something, his ears flicked back as he crossed his arms over his chest, but the moment he caught sight of her, that all went away and an expression of pure awe took its place.

Pidge shoved aside her impulse to look down. She'd worn her new dress knowing the sort of reaction it might bring. Maybe she should have listened to Allura's warning and saved it to wear another time.

The masked Blade roughly nudged Keithir when he continued to stare, knocking the prince from his stupor.

“You, um, look nice,” Keithir said awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Pidge said. She wanted to scream at herself for being so nervous about talking to him. What was it about calling it a date that always rendered them unable to function properly? She ducked her head as she felt her cheeks start to heat up and had to shift the basket from one hand to another as her palms started to sweat.

The simple movement spurred Keithir into action, years of training kicking in. “Here, may I?” he asked, gesturing to the basket.

Pidge almost insisted on carrying it herself, but something about the way he asked, so uncertain, left her feeling okay about handing it over to him.

It wasn't about strength or weakness. It was an offering to help, if she wanted it.

If Keithir thought he'd been nervous before, both of their previous dates paled in comparison to Katie leading him down to her hangar, where the Green Lion silently sat. The great beast made him unexpectedly anxious, as he doubted it would take kindly to his unintended double life and Keith and Keithir.

Katie, luckily, didn't pick up on his inner turmoil, and in fact looked wrapped up in her own thoughts as she nibbled on her lower lip.

It wasn't just the Green Lion that had his stomach twisted in knots. Seeing Pidge in that beautiful shade of deep purple (Daibazaal's royal color), it suddenly struck home that in a few short months he would be married to that clever, brilliant woman. She would be the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

They entered the hangar and, as before, Keithir's body froze up the moment he set eyes on the Green Lion. He could hear the whisper of a question in his head – an utterly foreign and bizarre feeling – but it was gone before he could rationalize it.

“Keithir, are you okay?” Katie asked.

Keithir tore his gaze away from the Lion, glad to find he could move once again. “I'm fine.”

She studied him closely for a moment and then let go of whatever question she had building in her mind. “I know it's not the most traditional picnic, but after last time I thought this might be safer. I tried to make it as comfortable as I could. Allura helped.” She turned and gestured to the floor behind her, where a green-and-white checkered blanket had been spread out over a mat.

It was simple. Relaxed. The exact opposite of how he'd been taught a proper date should be when wooing a lady.

Keithir loved it.

“It's perfect,” he told her and was rewarded with one of her bright smiles.

The two made themselves comfortable on the cushioned blanket and Katie started unpacking the basket, handing things to Keithir to arrange between them.

“Sorry about Regris,” he apologized. “Kolivan still has him on guard duty, just in case.”

Katie sat up as she removed the plates from the bottom of the basket and handed one of them to him. “Your safety is important, especially since we still don't know how the sniper got in or out of the Castle. At least you don't have to be within sight of him at all times when you're inside, right?”

“True,” Keithir agreed, thankful that his friend could be reasoned with. He doubted Regris really wanted to stand by and watch them on their date, no matter how much the older Galra liked to tease him about doing so.

He waited until Pidge opened the first container and began spooning out food for herself and then picked a box of tiny breads stuffed with what he thought might be meat of some kind.

Their conversation continued along those lines, as they compared notes on what they'd been told of the new security measures. From there, they moved onto the planets they missed visiting the most, but would be unlikely to see again for some time.

As the last bit of food was eaten, their simple date started to wind down and Keithir helped her clean up whatever he could.

“Can I ask you something?” Katie asked, out of the blue. “I've been wondering for a while now, but... why did you agree to this? I did it so Allura wouldn't marry Lotor, because she deserves to be with someone who makes her happy and I... Well, I could do something to make sure that would happen, so I did it. But you...”

Keithir took a moment to collect his thoughts. He had been wondering when she would ask and had been so sure that he was prepared for it, but all of his good excuses fled his mind as she looked at him with those big brown eyes. “Lotor and I got along once, but that was a long time ago. At some point, he decided I would be a hindrance to his plans, whatever they are, which makes me expendable.

“So I decided to do everything I can to get in his way,” Keithir admitted. “I'm sorry you got mixed up in this, Katie. I never meant for anyone else to get involved.”

He wasn't sure how she would take it.

Thace and Ulaz had lectured him about needlessly endangering himself when he told them. Regris had (affectionately, in a way) called him an idiot. Kolivan's response had been to push him even harder in training, determined to see his youngest Blade thrive.

Katie huffed in amusement and reached fr her half-full glass of juice, lifting it in his direction. “Here's to getting involved in dangerous situations most people try to avoid.”

Keithir gently clinked his glass against hers.

Upon reflection, several months later, he would realize that was the moment he started to fall for her.

Lotor was less than pleased with the way his plans were turning out.

After months of subtly influencing members of his father's council, he'd finally had Allura within his grasp, only to have her snatched away thanks to his so-called brother and that annoyingly clever Green Paladin.

He'd hoped to settle the matter and get his plans back on track by taking Keithir out of the picture, but once again that child got in his way. His only consolation was that Ezor had managed to successfully sabotage the healing pods for long enough that the paladin had to suffer the pain of her injury.

Perhaps he'd acted too rashly, allowing his rage to swallow him for a brief time. He would do better in the future.

Lotor silently watched his team of elite fighters banter with each other, all of them feeling the stress of the past few weeks. With Acxa's failure to kill Keithir and being spotted by the Altean guards while helping her escape (forcing her and Ezor to take care of the guards so they could never speak of what they saw), they were all waiting for the inevitable punishment.

It wouldn't come.

The two of them, as well as Narti and Zethrid, were completely loyal to him and him alone. Criticism would be enough to inspire them to do better.

“Zethrid, I have a mission for you,” Lotor said, a slow smirk curving across his face. A success would do well for morale and he had the perfect idea. “I think you'll enjoy this one.”

NEXT