#i dunno. our community needs to look out for each other. our local ones even more so. get to know the trans people in your neighborhood.

[mxbitters]

this past half year has put me in a state of perpetual exhaustion i struggle to even describe honestly.  like.. transphobic bullshit has always existed and was certainly terrible before that but like man.. these past maybe six months .. maybe i wouldn’t have said it back then but i felt like i could at least breathe a little compared to now where it’s like.  punch after punch after punch towards our community to the point where my mind is a blur honestly

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are slowly becoming a proper team! No more secrets! (for the most part)

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 4-6 are below the cut.

heart

Losing that comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms after the Victory Tour must have been hard for Katniss and Peeta! Up until Katniss hurts her ankle, they probably didn’t really do much about it, just trying to make it through on their own... After she hurt her ankle and Peeta’s spending more time over at her place, I can easily imagine him staying over, at least until she’s fallen asleep, which might help a little... Since they are living only three houses apart from each other, I like to imagine that they can see each other’s bedroom windows from their bedroom (how else would Katniss know that Peeta sleeps with the windows open? I can’t really imagine that they would be able to open the windows of the train they were on - y’know, for “safety reasons” (i.e. making sure nobody can escape)); maybe they’d both light a candle and put it by their window, as a signal they are going to sleep... It’s not the same, but it helps a little 

mind

I mean, aside from the systemic rigging of the reaping system (i.e. poorer people generally having more entries, so they can have some food), I can easily imagine there being a manipulation of the “odds” when someone becomes too vocal or troublesome for the local authorities, such as someone trying to unionize a district’s workforce, for example

soul

In the districts, their impact has to be big - their win alone was a huge defiance of the Games as they used to be... sticking together and sticking up for each other ultimately led to them defeating the Capitol’s rules! In-between the Games and the Victory Tour I don’t think there was much noteworthy going on (although maybe the fact that, so far, none of the new victors’ loved ones had been hurt - Prim, Mrs. E., but also Gale and his family would be visible during the celebrations, I’m sure, same probably goes for the Mellark’s - might tell the people in the district that Snow and his cronies were aware of the attention any assassination attempt would gather and that this, in turn, might actually could become the last straw that would spark a revolution. In a way, that was proof that the people on top were at least a little afraid of what the people in the districts would do...) And then, especially during the visit of D11, with Katniss expressing her thanks and Peeta reaching out to share their winnings with the people from D11, another district than their own - it must have provided a lot of inspiration, I’m sure. 

As for the Capitolites, maybe some of them would notice for once how unhappy/riled up the people in some of the districts were... or at least stop to think about how this time, a show of love and companionship actually provided more “entertainment” and intrigue than the brutal gore and bloodshed from previous Games (also, longer lasting - there is actually much more “story” to be had from the star-crossed lovers from D12 than from any individual winner of previous Games, if you think about it... Their “love story” is still on-going, with an upcoming wedding and the promise of a family... it’s still creepy and voyeuristic as hell, though)

Chapter 4

Everything he [Haymitch] said was true about the Capitol’s expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn’t really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. - God, this sucks so much! As Katniss rightly points out, her misery isn’t about Peeta at all - it’s about her (and also his, just pointing that out) agency being taken away! She’s being stripped even of that little sliver of agency that inhabitants of D12 usually have (choice of whom to marry, or whether to marry at all)

I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. - Eugh, just the idea of Snow being the one to have the last word on that subject... 🤢 The invasion of privacy here... - The only person who should get to decide whether Katniss should have children or not is Katniss herself! Period!

My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can’t let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. Before that, though, I’d try to run away. - Boy, Katniss is even contemplating taking her own life, rather than to submit to the life the Capitol wants to force on her; it’s not her first choice (she’d rather run away), but it shows the desperation she’s feeling

Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible. - Later we will see that Peeta and Haymitch also belong into the category of “people Katniss loves” 😊(as well as her family, Gale, and his fam, of course)

“And Peeta’s team is probably still asleep.” “Doesn’t he need prepping?” I ask. “Not the way you do,” Effie replies. What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in. I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did. - Gotta love that everlasting sexism that, even far into the future, still won’t allow women to have frickin’ body hair (y’know, like most humans do 🙄)

I can remember Peeta’s now, as I bathed him by the stream. Very blond in the sunlight, once the mud and blood had been washed away. Only his face remained completely smooth. Not one of the boys grew a beard, and many were old enough to. I wonder what they did to them. - Katniss seems to have committed every single detail about Peeta to her memory, including how his body hair looked when she cleaned him in the last Games... okay 👀😏 On a more somber note, what is it that the Capitol is doing to these poor kids?! The boys couldn’t grow beards and - I’m assuming - the girls wouldn’t get their periods while in the arena (since the Games can last for weeks, it would be a huge disadvantage if any of the girls also had to content with cramps + periods  - aside from worrying about getting murdered, I mean); it’s such a violation of one’s autonomy over one’s own body, yikes

Flavius tilts up my chin and sighs. “It’s a shame Cinna said no alterations on you.” “Yes, we could really make you something special,” says Octavia. “When she’s older,” says Venia almost grimly. “Then he’ll have to let us.” - Eeek, no thanks!😦 And frankly, it really shouldn’t be Cinna’s call to make but, y’know, Katniss’s!!! I don’t know, I get real panick-y just reading this exchange (I have never even gotten my ears pierced - my mom wouldn’t let them be pierced until I could make my own decision on that subject matter and as someone with skin issues and bad experiences with needles, I really don’t feel the need to have any unnecessary metal inserted into my body, so... I’m good)

His [Peeta’s] apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Game was something of an act. But I don’t hold it against him. [...] “I’m sorry, too,” I say. [...] “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive.” - That apology of Peeta’s... *chef’s kiss*; it was totally understandable that Peeta was upset and needed some time apart from Katniss after her confession, which had caught him completely by surprise, not even Katniss blames him for that... But his apology shows that he really made use of their time apart to work out his emotions and to reflect on both their situations - that’s some emotional maturity to be envious of! Plus, his apology is a good move to get their communication channel opened up again

It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. - Come on, Katniss, cut this boy some slack! He can’t read minds - how is he supposed to know about these things if you don’t tell him anything? It’s nice that you’re glad that you guys are on speaking terms again, but communication isn’t a one-way street, y’know?

I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. - Katniss really should have listened to her instincts here - Haymitch might have a better idea of how the Games/Capitol works, but he knows little about teamwork, which is an important factor in their specific (and unprecedented!) situation; I’m not blaming Katniss for relying on her mentor here, but this entire approach is going to crash and burn in the next chapter

It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. - Not to say that you can’t have friendships where you frequently hold hands - you totally can - but it is noteworthy that I don’t think I can recall Katniss holding hands with any of her other friends... (somehow, I can’t really picture Katniss holding hands with Gale casually like that... nor with Madge or Finnick later on) 

At the door, I remember, “I’ve got to apologize to Effie first.” “Don’t be afraid to lay it on thick,” Peeta tells me.- There is something about this exchange that speaks to me... maybe because it reads like some sort of an inside joke between them? Or because it shows that, despite being on good terms with Effie, Peeta’s totally aware of how high-maintenance/over the top Effie is... I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peeta has painted the Games. Some you wouldn’t get right away, if you hadn’t been with him in the arena yourself. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. [...] Others any viewer would recognize. The golden horn called the Cornucopia. [...] And me. I am everywhere. [...] “What do you think?” he asks. “I hate them,” I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. - These are the pieces Peeta meant to exhibit in the Capitol, right? I wonder if he hoped that these paintings of his impressions/memories of the Games might actually connect with some Capitolites and might even move them to feel some empathy for the Tributes? Maybe he hoped that they would be more receptive for that kind of thing if he packaged it in art?

“All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you’ve brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?” “I see them every night,” he says. [...] “Me too. Does it help? To paint them out?” “I don’t know. I think I’m a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am,” he says. “But they haven’t gone anywhere.” - I do wonder, whether and how painting out these moments could have therapeutic value for Peeta - on the one hand, the act of painting out specific intrusions/flashbacks might be helpful because he’d end up focusing on the more technical side of painting, y’know? Focussing on mixing the right shade of a certain color might help create some emotional distance from the moment itself... also, since painting usually takes some time, Peeta would actually spend a considerable amount of time facing these moments head on, rather than trying to avoid them (avoidance tends to increase the frequency of flashback/intrusions) and maybe spending so much time on them could also help him contextualize them within the broader narrative of his life, which is the basic principle behind Narrative Exposure Therapy, which is said to be pretty effective at treating PTSD... just my two cents

I can’t believe the size of District 11. “How many people do you think live here?” Peeta asks. I shake my head. In school they refer to it as a large district, that’s all. No actual figures on the population. - Perfect example of how tightly the Capitol controls the information the people in the districts have about the other districts... which is basically nothing. Let’s keep them in the dark so they are less likely to connect with each other and band together...

Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. - Lol, Katniss bringing everything back to Peeta because she definitely hasn’t a crush on the guy, I see 😉

And then he [Peeta] hesitates before adding something that wasn’t written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. “It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we’d like for each of the tributes’ families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives.” - Peeta, the rebel! Talk about an act of radical kindness! I’m so proud of him. But also, I think this is another excellent example of how he and Katniss are on the same wavelength (this took me some time to find, but here you go): I silently say good-bye to Thresh and thank him for my life. I promise to remember him and, if I can, do something to help his family and Rue’s, if I win. (Ch. 23, THG)

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all. - Peeta: does anything that exemplifies his sense of morality; Katniss: *swoons* - but honestly, it is so beautiful how Katniss is so attracted to Peeta’s goodness and kind heart - it also tells us a lot about her (she is quite pure, as Peeta will point out later in this book) and what she values

“Wait, please.” I don’t know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they’ve been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. - And then Katniss launches into one of her spontaneous, heart-felt, and inspiring speeches/acts, expressing her thanks, sympathy, and a sense of kinship with people beyond the borders of her district, beyond the superficial barriers the Capitol has been trying to maintain in order to weaken the ‘common folk‘ and keep the exploitation going

The full impact of what I’ve done hits me. It was not intentional - I only meant to express my thanks - but I have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent from the people of District 11. - Again, Katniss has done something that will solidify her as a symbol of the revolution without intending to do so and that’s the point, I think - she inspires people through her genuine displays of caring for others (which, in Panem, is already rebellious on its own)

Chapter 5

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. - Protective Peeta! Also, I think it’s interesting to note the wording of Peeta’s arms “encircling” Katniss and then “guiding” her - his arms surround her, and he’s leading her away from harm (at least to the extent that is in his power - can’t really be safe from harm in Panem, can you?), but it doesn’t seem smothering or oppressive  to Katniss in any way -”guide” has more of a connotation of giving direction without force, imo; in contrast, when Katniss talked about her kiss with Gale she mentions she’d never imagined how those hands [...] could as easily entrap me. (Ch. 2, CF); granted, these are two very different situations - the phrasing just stood out to me

“What happened?” Effie hurries over. “We lost the feed just after Katniss’s beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!” - Very telling how a clueless Capitolite like Effie wouldn’t register the rebellious aspect of Katniss’s speech; by keeping the Capitolites in the depths of sweet, sweet ignorance while simultaneously harshly trying to curb any spark of rebellion by cutting off the feed, the government is actually drawing the attention of the ignorant Capitolites to the act of rebellion itself (and also letting the people in the districts know that there was something censor-worthy going on); kind of shooting themselves in the foot here

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staricases and increasingly narrow halls. [...] Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. - I wonder how Haymitch has come to know this part of the Justice Building? Has he been to District 11 more often than Katniss supposes (he is friends with Chaff, after all), did his mentor take him there for some private conversation, or was there a moment during Haymitch’s Victory Tour where he felt so overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and powerlessness that he fled to the most desolate, solitary place he could find?

“I was supposed to fix things on this tour. [...] Calm things down. But obviously, all I’ve done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished.” I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. - Obviously, all of this is awful and no one - especially a traumatized, 16-year old girl - should have to suffer carrying such a burden... But also, here we see one of the downsides of Katniss taking sole responsibility for everything - she totally forgot that Peeta might feel responsible too, only that he didn’t even know what’s at stake - which leads us to-

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”"It's not like that, Peeta-" I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. - When kind, gentle Peeta’s mad, you know shit has hit the fan 😳 But also, being passed over/kept out of the loop seems to hit pretty close to home for Peeta (while I would like to know what his home life looked like before the Games, I have to admit that at this point, I’m somewhat afraid I might not be able to handle the truth...). I just think this scene is an important moment that leads to an end of (most of) their detrimental secrecy (hello end-of-CF-Haymitch!) and establishes their little team as such (hence the drawing)

“You’re always so reliably good, Peeta,” says Haymitch. “So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn’t want to disrupt that.” “Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today.” - Remember the last time someone overestimated Peeta (Foxface and the berries)? That ended in someone’s death as well... And, Haymitch? ‘Never assume’ applies to you, too!

“Do you think I gave them [Rue’s and Thresh’s families] a bright future? Because I think they’ll be lucky if they survive the day!” Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I’ve never seen him like this. - Considering that his rebellious act of kindness is now threatening to become a sword of Damocles, hanging over those towards which he wanted to extend his kindness - simply because he’s been kept out of the loop (again)- Peeta’s anger is quite understandable

“Look, boy-” Haymitch begins. “Don’t bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I’d have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we’re very good.” - Peeta doesn’t really care if it’s just his life on the line, but if other people’s lives are at risk? He takes no shit (it’s admirable in one way and deeply concerning in another); also, Peeta is right - while there still is a game to play, it’s not the Games, so different circumstances and rules apply

“From now on, you’ll be fully informed,” Haymitch promises. “I better be,” says Peeta. - Peeta generally is a very cooperative fellow, but don’t ever think he can’t be forceful and stand his ground when it matters!

“Did you choose me, Haymitch?” I ask. “Yeah,” he says. “Why? You like him better,” I say. “That’s true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive,” he says. “I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home.” “Oh,” is all I can think to say. - This is such a quiet, sweet moment and also shows that Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta have been some sort of team from the start (also, in their team effort they actually managed to get the both of them back home!)

Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? - Lol, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit here, Katniss ;) Frankly, the Capitol has been the one to create this powder-keg they are sitting on in the first place - all it needed was a little spark... All these injustices, the humilitation, the pain inflicted... it’s like an elastic rubber band that’s been stretched and stretched - until it snaps

“I’m something of an expert in architectural design, you know?” “Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” says Portia before the pause gets too long. - Bless Portia’s heart, making sure they avoid that awkward silence 😂

Effie looks so distressed that I spontaneously give her a hug. “That’s awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the dinner at all. At least until they’ve apologized.” - Aww, Katniss doing something nice for Effie!😊

Peeta and I join hands. “Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions,” says Peeta. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t kept things from you in the past.” - Peeta sorta apologizing, even acknowledging that he also had kept secrets from Katniss? We love to see it👍 - [...] “I think I broke a few things myself after that interview.” “Just an urn,” he says. - Peetaaa... stop diminishing your own physical injuries! Good thing that Katniss won’t let him: - “And your hands. There’s no point to it anymore though, is there? Not being straight with each other?” I say. “No point,” says Peeta. - Gasp! Honest, open communication as a good basis for a successful relationship? It’s more likely than you think!

“Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?” I’m so startled I answer. “Yes.” With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? - Peeta, you sly dog! Your priorities 😂

Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors’ ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. - I do think that it’s interesting how D4 is one of the districts being elated to see Peeta + Katniss and displaying such fury, despite being a Career district; just goes to show that, just because their odds are better at winning the Games, doesn’t have to make them more simpatico with the Capitol’s cruelty... (Considering how Finnick knows how to perform CPR, it’s highly likely that people in D4 are also used to awful and precarious working + living situations... maybe that’s exactly why they generally are so robust and do well in the Games; and maybe they are simply not that above joining the other Careers as long as it improves their chances of survival, like Katniss or Thresh had been... worked for a while for Peeta, too)

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. [...] Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms. - 😭 Also: Very telling how Capitolite Effie just throws pills at the problem (with the best of intentions, I’m sure), which is an immediate, unpersonal, and superficial solution at best, whereas Peeta holding Katniss, offering comfort, understanding, a sense of safety, and human connection is so much more personal, intimate, and effective (for both of them!)

I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? - You know why, Katniss -  I suppose that before the Games I didn’t pay attention and afterward I didn’t want to know. - Still, not knowing his name didn’t stop you from humanizing him, Katniss, and that’s important, too

Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I’m the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. “I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.” - Come on, Katniss, don’t be so callous; Peeta’s just as much of a prisoner here as you! Also, it’s all about being real or not real with these two, isn’t it?

Chapter 6

... you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here’s what’s strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. [...] That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. - Honestly, I think it was pretty short-sighted of Snow to let Katniss know so clearly that she didn’t succeed in her task; she did her utmost and it wasn’t enough - might as well fling caution to the wind now. All bets are off. If there had been still some small chance she could have ‘made things right’, she probably would have been trying harder to comply to his expectations. (I’m sure Snow thought the upcoming implementations of his stricter regime would be enough to keep Katniss in check, but pride comes before a fall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

It’s essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, If I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. - For such a ‘loner’, Katniss sure has a lot of people that are important to her... And how ironic that Peeta, who she isn’t sure she’ll be able to convince in following her will be a much more willing participant that Gale, who Katniss is pretty much banking on joining her

“You’ll probably have to pass a new law,” I say with a giggle. “If that’s what it takes,” says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh the fun we two have together. - The dynamic between Snow and Katniss is so strange; despite the obvious antagonism there is definitely some vibe of interacting with each other at eye level and it’s weird (Sidenote: Is there any law in Panem preventing minors from marrying?)

“I want to taste everything in the room, “ I tell Peeta. [...] “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says. “Okay, not more than one bite of each dish,” I say. My resolve is almost immediately broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups - couldn’t have happened to me; I hate soup (like, thick soups I maaaybe can get behind, but clear soup/broth is just flavored water to me, no thanks - then again, I’m a picky eater)

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food. - Well isn’t that a mood for every social gathering ever (one person I enjoy talking to and lots of food I like? Perfect.)

I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things - Katniss seems to like the combination of meat and fruit, huh? (the lamb and plums, now bird and orange sauce) Personally, it’s a combination that’s on thin ice for me; there are only a few dishes with that component I actually like and it took me forever to tolerate them (I don’t know if it’s the texture or the taste, but something makes me apprehensive about it); anyway, Katniss making Peeta eat the rest is such a casual, couple-y thing to do (or at least something you do with someone you feel very comfortable with, I think)

Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?” My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?” I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. - Oh boy, I have a lot of thoughts on this part: A) I just noticed how this is the second delicate/fancy glass/drink that’s bringing about a jarring revelation: first that orange juice with the frilly straw in THG, now these tiny wine-stemmed glasses, B) “Everyone does it” + “how else would you have fun?” are the shittiest reasons I’ve ever heard at a party for doing something stupid you probably don’t want to do (I’m having flashbacks to all the times I had people trying to pressure me into drinking alcohol as a teen - it was even legal, btw - although I insisted that I didn’t like the taste (which I still don’t, to this day); it was tiresome 😑), C) “everyone does it” - the people in the Capitol must have some messed up teeth if that’s a regular occurence (sure, they probably bleach their teeth all the time, but also... they’d really need to, D) the obvious: how effed up that they just puke to stuff in more food when in the districts people literally are dying from starvation?! (and yeah, unequal distribution of resources sadly isn’t just a thing in Panem, I know... but there is something about actively purging yourself just for funsies that’s just extra, well, sick)

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents cannot give. More food. - God, how awful! How powerless they must feel 😟

And here in the Capitol they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and again. Not from some illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. - Ooh, I’ve never noticed before how this passage not only recognizes physical reasons for purging, but also mental reasons! Wouldn’t have necessarily expected Katniss to acknowledge eating disorders like that, tbh... She has become a lot more cognizant and sensitive when mental health issues are concerned

One day when I dropped by to give Hazelle the game, Vick was home sick with a bad cough [...] he still spent about fifteen minutes talking about how they’d opened a can of corn syrup from Parcel Day and each had a spoonful on bread and were going to maybe have more later in the week. How Hazelle had said he could have a bit in a cup of tea to soothe his cough, but he wouldln’t feel right unless the others had some, too. - Aww, Vick is such a sweetheart! Hazelle is raising her kids right!

“Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,”I say. “Really, this is nothing by comparison.” “I know. I know that. It’s just sometimes I can’t stand it anymore. To the point where... I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He pauses, then whispers, “Maybe we were wrong, Katniss.” “About what?” I ask. “About trying to subdue things in the districts,” he says. - Peeta’s rebellious nature coming through again!

“Sorry,” he says. He should be. This is no place to be voicing such thoughts. “Save it for home,” I tell him. - I know Katniss means D12, but her phrasing of “home” evokes a more domestic, couple-y connotation again 😊

I don’t want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don’t want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I’m not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. - It’s telling that, while Katniss is not big on being touched aside from her family (does that include Gale? probably? although they hadn’t even really hugged until Katniss had been reaped, so... I dunno), she’s totally fine with Peeta touching her (more than that: remember how good she felt holding his hand again in Ch.4 and how she’s feeling safe in his arms when they are sharing a bed), it says a lot about how comfortable she feels around him

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He flips open the lid, sees the time, and frowns. “I’ll have to be going soon.” He turns the watch so I can see the face. “It starts at midnight.” - Honestly, this very subtle hint/foreshadowing of the clock setup of the Quarter Quell arena is simply brilliant! And also, midnight is going to become an important point in time as well from here on out (lightning tree, in the hanging tree song, saving Peeta and the others from the Training Center in the Capitol)

It’s another mockingjay. Exactly like the pin on my dress. Only this one disappears. He snaps the watch closed. “That’s very pretty,” I say. “Oh, it’s more than pretty. It’s one of a kind,” he says. - The disappearing mockingjay on the clock is interesting because A) Plutarch can’t really be flaunting the symbol of rebellion as Head Gamemaker, duh, but also B) the clock arena will be the place where the Mockingjay will disappear (until the rebellion will be able to use her for their cause); and that last comment by Plutarch clearly is aimed at the Mockingjay (Katniss) herself

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. - Okay, Katniss must feel hella safe and used to Peeta joining her in her bed, because apparently she didn’t even wake up when he did, like... I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, but I can’t imagine sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t jerk awake if someone crawled into my bed while I was snoozing

“No nightmare,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. - Telling how the first time Katniss sleeps through the night is after Snow let her know her performance wasn’t enough; she’s must have been so tense and on edge, desperately trying to calm down the districts and convince Snow, that she hadn’t been able to sleep properly, aside from the obvious sleeping issues she’d have from the PTSD (I’m often that way before an important exam - especially if it’s an oral exam; I get tense just thinking about it 😓)

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay though the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” - Interesting how in Katniss’s dream, the mockingjay is Rue - lending further credence to the hypothesis that maybe Rue was originally meant to be the Mockingjay (would make Plutarch’s comment of the mockingjay being “one of a kind” a bit more hypocritical/exaggerated/dramatized, which still fits with his flair for propaganda/showmanship... and ultimately, Katniss as the Mockingjay was unique, but that doesn’t mean that the rebellion couldn’t have made someone else their symbol if they needed to); also, Peeta brushing Katniss’s hair off her forehead is so sweet and intimate 😊

After I got home, we [Madge and I] started spending time together. [...] It was a little awkward at first because we didn’t know what to do. Other girls our age, I’ve heard them talking about boys, or other girls, or clothes. Madge and I aren’t gossipy and clothes bore me to tears. But after a few false starts, I realized she was dying to go into the woods, so I’ve taken her a couple of times and showed her how to shoot. She’s trying to teach me the piano, but mostly I like to listen to her play. - Honestly? I’d love to read a fanfic about Katniss and Madge figuring out their friendship (let me know if there already are some!); it’s cute how they end up including each other in their hobbies 😊 Ah, the classic “I’m/We’re not like other girls”, which often is especially prevalent during your teen years (I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been gulty of this in my past 😅)... Katniss might actually would have benefited from talking with Madge about her boys’ troubles, though... And it’s so funny how Katniss admits that she has no interest in clothes, despite it being her supposed “talent”, while she also admits that she does admire Cinna’s work

... there’s a mob scene. The square’s packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Building burn. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random. I’ve never seen anything like it - I... I have. At least on tv... In different places, at different times, but... yeah...

[doshmanziari]

Musical Offerings for the New Year || What is “Radical Music” in 2021?

Near the end of 2020, a bunch of musicians populating a chatroom, including myself, each submitted ten minutes’ worth of our work to another musician, Chimeratio, who generously compiled it all into a set totaling nearly ten hours.¹ The work didn’t need to be new; just what we thought might best represent our abilities/style(s) and/or perhaps what we were especially pleased with. The set premiered in late January. Since I have some tentative plans for reorienting Brick By Brick this year, while not overriding its emphases, I wanted to share that music with anyone who’s interested.

I compiled the four videos into a playlist, although you can also access them individually: here (1), here (2), here (3), and here (4). If you care to, and are on a computer, you can also view the accompanying chatlog and read people’s responses from when they were listening to the live broadcast.

The compulsion for this project was sparked by excited discussions over and usage of the term “digital fusion”, most helpfully propagated by Aivi Tran, designating a computer-based body of work that for years lacked the rooftop of a commonly agreed upon genre-name. While describing my music has never been a big concern, even if it’s usually felt impossible (what, for example, is this? or this? I dunno!), I’ve appreciated how the spread and application of this term has brought together people who may have felt isolated.²

As “digital fusion” gained designative traction, I witnessed the activity in the aforementioned chatroom explode over the course of a few days. Before, a day’s discussion might’ve been a few dozen messages; now, there were dozens of messages every half-minute. This had positive and negative ramifications, the negative being that conversations often proceeded at a pace of rapidity which precluded concentrated thought. Eventually, I bowed out because the rapidity exceeded my threshold for meaningful interaction; but I was glad that significant invigoration was going on.

I wanted to share this music also because it intersects with thoughts and talks I’ve been having stemming from the question, “What is ‘radical music’ in 2021?” This was stimulated by a 2014 talk given by the writer Mark Fisher, wherein he contends that, were we to play prominent “cutting edge” music from now to people twenty years ago, very nearly none of it would be aesthetically shocking, bizarre, or revelatory (think of playing house music to an audience in the early 1960s!). Fisher also observes a trend of returning to music which once was seen as the future -- as if, deprived of a shared prograde vision, imaginations turn hazily retrograde; ergo, genres such as synthwave or albums like Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories.

It isn’t my goal here to argue about the “end of history.” Fisher’s time-travel hypothetical, however, rings loud and true to me. Visible musical radicalism has, for at least a decade, been strictly extra-musical, in the sense of songs like “This is America” or “WAP”, where one’s response is primarily to the spectacle of the music video, the performer’s identistic markers, and/or the manner in which the lyrics intersect with (mostly US-centric) ideological hotspots. Musically, there is really nothing radical here. Any vociferous condemnations or defenses of a song like “WAP” deal in moralizing reactions to semantics or imagery: how progressive or regressive is the political aspect? how propelled or repelled are we by the word “pussy”?

It would be a mistake, and simply wrong, to assert that the only music one can enjoy escapes the parameters outlined above; and my inability to coherently categorize some of my own music hardly raises that portion to the status of radicality. But the question here pertains to what is being made, and I think that if we’re going to seriously consider the nature of truly radical music today, we do need to question if such a quality can prominently exist when our hyper-fast consumerist cycle seems to forbid not just sustained, lifelong relationships to artwork but also the local, unhurried nourishment of creative gestation. Now, in my opinion, there are good, even great, examples of radical music still being made in deep Internet-burrows, and for evidence of that I would offer some of the material contained in the linked playlists. Moreover, I’d say that this quality can exist in part because these little artistic communities are so buried.

Let me share a quote that another person shared with me recently:

For culture to shift, you need pockets of isolated humanity. Since all pockets of humanity (outside of the perpetually isolated indigenous people in remote wilderness) are connected in instantaneous fashion, independent ideas aren’t allowed to ferment on their own. When you cook a meal, you have to bring ingredients together that have had time to grow, ferment, or decompose separately. A cucumber starts out as a seed, then you mix it with the soil, water and sunlight. You can’t bring the seed, soil, water and sunlight to the kitchen from the get-go. When you throw those things in to the mixture without letting them mature, the flavor cannot stand out on its own. Same thing with art and fashion. A kid in Russia can come up with a new way to dance, gets filmed on a phone, it goes viral quickly but gets lost in the morass of all of the other multitudinous forms of dance. Sure it spread far and wide, but it gets forgotten in a week. In the past, his new art form would have been confined locally, nurtured, honed, then spread geographically, creating a distinct new cultural idiosyncrasy with a strong support base. By the time it was big enough to be presented globally, it was already a cultural phenomenon locally. This isn’t possible anymore. We’re consuming too many unripened fruits.

The main impression I have here is that radical music today will, and must be, folk music. Our common idea of folkiness might be the scrappy singer strumming a guitar, but my interpretive reference rather has to do with the idea of a music being written, first of all, for one’s self, and then shared with a small-scale community, which in turn helps the artist grow at their own pace. This transcends a dependence upon image, the primacy of acoustic instrumentation, or the signaling of sincerity versus insincerity. It is a return to the valuation of outsider art, so rare nowadays. As someone who I was recently in dialogue with wrote, “Where can you find new genuine folk music? Pretty much just with your friends, imo. Even then, the global world is so influential and seeps into any crack it can find. I think vaporwave was radical and folk for a while. Grant Forbes made that music way before the world knew about it.”

Sometimes, a lot of fuss is made over what’s seen as “gatekeeping” within certain communities. It can be, depending on the context, justifiable to question and critique this behavior. At other times, the effort of maintaining a level of exclusivity, of retaining an idiosyncratic shapeliness to the communal organism, can be a legitimate attempt to protect the personal, interpersonal, and cultural aspects from the flattening effect of monoculture. Hypothetically, I welcome the Castlevania TV series and Super Smash Bros. Ultimate having introduced new and younger demographics to Castlevania. In actuality, stuff like “wholesome sad gay himbo Alucard”, image macros, and neurotic “stan” fanfiction being what’s now first associated with the series makes me want to put as much distance as possible between my interests and those latecoming impositions.

The group-terminology David Chapman uses in his essay “Geeks, MOPs, and Sociopaths in Subculture Evolution” is kinda cringey, but some of the cultural/behavioral patterns he lays out are relevant to the topic. Give it a look. If we cross his belief that “[subcultures] are no longer the primary drivers of cultural development” with our contemporary consume-and-dispose customs, we’re left with the predicament of it’s even worth attempting to bring radical/outsider art beyond its rhizomatic habitat. This is troubling, because it would mean that artistic radicality no longer might not only refuse to but cannot encompass cultural upheaval. It would be like if dance music were invented and -- instead of progressively permeating nightlife, stimulating countercultural trends, and ultimately being adapted as the basis for pop music globally -- only were listened to via headphones by a few thousand people on their own, stimulated a group meeting once a year or two, and never affected music beyond a niche-within-a-niche. That’s a very sad picture to me.

⁂

¹ Chimeratio has also maintained an excellent blog on here dedicated to looking at videogame music written in irregular time signatures, far preceding higher-profile examinations like 8-bit Music Theory’s video on the same topic.

² For myself, creative isolation has had its uses, because it has led me down routes that are highly personalized. The isolation can be dispiriting too. Although a lot of my music is videogame-music-adjacent, almost none of it uses “authentic” technology, such as PSG synthesizers or FM synthesis; and the identification of those sounds is fairly important for recognition.

[zombiejoepino]

The Scavenger. CH: 2 (Cobb Vanth x OC fanfic)

CH 2: The Bounty

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Cobb Vanth x OC!Female (in her late 20´s if you wondered)

Word count: 2923

Summary: A dangerous man is trying to keep a bounty in secret. He is waiting news from his missing hunters. Back in Mos Pelgo, The Marshal guards at night.

Warnings: angst

A/N: English is not my first language so i apologize in advance if i butchered your language. If you want to read the first part is right here. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy it

FULL STORY HERE :

UPDATE. CHAPTER 3 IS UP! 

CHAP 2: THE BOUNTY

Another night in the crowded bar.

A light smoke covered the atmosphere, live music was banging in the walls as the blue-skinned singer charmed the audience with her smooth voice.

Hunters, travelers, or anyone looking for passage was that night. Some of them just enjoyed a drink while talking business, others just gambled from time to time the sound of a blaster roared and another body dropped dead. Didn’t pull fast enough, others thought.

Just a regular night at Mos Espa.

The smoky drink traveled its way around the joint, crossing around colorful and loud characters. All of them must have a good story about the Old Republic or the Empire. They would exchange facts and anecdotes but there was always someone taking credit for things that didn’t happen. That would end up in a whole fight.

The drink finally made its way to the lone booth, stopping right in front of this man. Dark hair, a dark eye, and a pale one that followed the X shape scar across his left side. A strong clean shaved jaw and a heavy frown. Captain Qod was his name.

There were rumors about him, no one could tell for sure if he was a rebel pilot that went rogue or an imperial pilot turned into a bounty hunter. All that everyone knew was that he was good at stealing and hunting.

He and his gang, the Shadows, got quite a reputation for pulling out heists on New Republic cargo. They were smart enough to stay low for a time before going all over again. The last job was easy on terms, things went sideways in a matter of seconds. He lost two crew members, one betrayed them, the rest flee to the closest location.

His fingers drummed patiently, then stopped to take the smoky drink. He took a small sip and made a face.

Between the crowd, a skinny pale man flashed his yellowish smile at him and waved nervously. Wan Plog was a slippery one that always shifted between alliances. Our lone man didn’t make any expression while looking at him but just followed his clumsy actions with his eyes.

The nervous pale man reached the lone booth and waited before he was allowed to sit down. He rubbed his hands together and took the cloak from his head.

“They haven’t come back, boss.” Plog smiled nervously. “But maybe that’s not all bad. Probably found her and are just waiting to bring her. You know how the desert is. Raiders and other creatures.” He chuckled.

Max Qod, just gave him a long stare and sipped the smoky drink again. He didn’t blink even once.

“But if they don’t find her, I made this.” The pale man looked through his pockets and dropped a rounded dark object. He picked it up quickly, cleaned it up a bit, and slid it through the table.

Qod put down his drink and rose a brow looking at the puck. He pressed it and the blueish hologram displayed the young redhead image and last name; Roznev. Charges: Theft.  

“I know It’s a high price, boss, but maybe the best of the best can find her. Maybe if we send this to the Guild. After all, what she took is wh-” Plog's words were cut when the Captain's large hand-pulled him by the hood and made him bang his head in the table.

There was a small moment of silence but the crowd just decided to ignore it as they do with other conflicts or shootouts.

Qod press his head down on the table and moved close enough to his ears and whisper. “You know if you spit any word of what she has, others will come for it. I dunno who told you to make that, but you better destroy it.” He squeezed the head down, poor Plog let out a squeak.

“Better find those idiots, I don’t care if you have to track them down personally. Cant trust bounty hunters.”  

Qod shoved him away from the booth and looked down at the pale man. His expression was severe. He left 3 rounded chips on the table and walked away. The folks around just stepped aside to clear the Captain's way.

No one wanted to mess with The Shadows' leader.

…

Nighttime was the quietest at Mos Pelgo; kids were at the house getting ready to sleep. The local business closed when the sunset down. Only the old Weequay kept the light up as he cleaned up his pub, sweeping quietly. Even Banthas were mooing from time to time, almost like they were singing at night.

There was no much action after earlier events. The stranger crashing a speeder close to the town and the Marshal taking down two of them. The third one wounded, probably a victim, or just trouble. That was the two ideas that bounced on The Marshal's head.

He fought so hard for this community to have a moment of peace and he wouldn’t allow strangers to bring trouble to them. No more Key Raiders, Mining Collective, or the Sand people, he would face them all if it was necessary.

Of course, he would stand for his town, he knows that bounty hunters can be ruthless like any enemy and they would try to hit on his weaknesses just to get the worst of him, just enough to make a mistake.

But what were Cobb Vanth´s weaknesses? He wasn’t sure, so far he grew a soft spot for the young stranger.

Her behavior towards him was amusing for him. It was a normal reaction not to trust each other, and yet he felt her long stares, quick looking aways followed by a frown and a tiny blush. He chuckled thinking about it.

He was aware of his appearance, he noticed when women stared at him a little longer, followed by flirty smiles or nervous giggles but it didn’t bother him. Cobb barely had time to flirt back or give them too much attention. There was a lot in his mind, responsibilities, and more. He kept those ideas away and tried to focus on the facts around the accident.

Two bounty hunters were after a young girl. He found a trashed puck but the bounty in the hologram was not her. There was a bag with different pieces that reminded him of Jawas. So, that made her a scavenger, stole from them by mistake and they followed.

The Marshal didn’t have much time to ask her anything about those two cause she passed out in his arms. He was quite surprised how long she endured after the crash and the beat up. That last part made him angry. He would get more intel if he let one of them alive but there was no reason to spare a woman beater's life.

The bruises on the redhead were not severe; puffy cheeks, a black eye, small scratches but the wounded knee worried him the most. It would take her a couple of days to walk and maybe keep up on the road or wherever she is going.

He needed to decide how long he would let the girl stay and not make the villagers anxious about her cause they didn’t like strangers at all. These are hard times and you can’t trust everybody you meet.

That cold night, he was guarding outside the town, keeping an eye in the dark desert, hoping no man or creature would dare to step a foot in his town; A long watch.

He didn’t mind staying there in the cold, after all, he couldn’t patch his eyes at home. All those nightmares kept him awake and just rolling around. He didn’t want to remember all over again when the red-hot steel was burning his skin. He kept his mind on the moment and not in the past. Besides, the new guest/prisoner needed a place to rest.

Was she a prisoner? She didn’t resist the arrest, it was like she had no other choice. It was hard to believe that such a fragile and delicate figure would be dangerous. He didn’t find any weapons in her belongings, there was a bag with random items and pieces to improve a small speeder.

Maybe she stole from the wrong people, the bounty hunters, but they didn’t kill her right away so, there must be something else.

His mind shook off all the ideas and focused on a moving shape. He rose the rifle and waited for a moment.

The old Dewback made a few grunts while stomping his way on the sand. His steps slowed down before it collapsed, breathing heavily. At any time, scavengers would come out to eat the agonizing old beast.

He thought about putting it down to ease its pain, but the noise would bring out something big and mean.

The Marshal observed another food chain example.  

…

Screams heard in the darkness.

Her feet felt heavy but didn’t dare to stop. Blasters and explosions just felt closer. Space was getting smaller each time and all the bodies squeezed together trying to breathe when the water reached them. The cage was closed, no one else was allowed to come out, they were left behind. They begged for help, for mercy but the faceless shooters couldn’t tell the difference. Extermination was everything in their program. She backed off to escape until she felt the heavy hand around her throat.

She gasped. The heartbeats pounding in her ears, trying to scream but she couldn’t open her mouth, unable to utter a sound and unable to move.

What seemed an eternity was probably no more than a few minutes when she found herself able to move again. A violent reaction followed by the struck of reality. There was no cage, no water, or hand around her throat. She couldn’t place her thoughts properly.

Her first move was to kick the bedsheets away. Her leg was burning and the other one was not enough to hold her weight. She groaned in pain but stop when the footsteps approached the room.

Nath did her best to sat up and reached the first object to cause enough damage to her captor; a bottle. It was still pretty dark so it was hard to tell. The adrenaline kept pumping in her veins.

The large shadow walked in and, she let out a mighty roar and jumped over it to smash a bottle on its head. The shadow stumbled with her, both crashing the ground. He struggled to keep her hands away from him as she swung her fists furiously.

“Hey! It's me!” He yelled while dodging the fists.

She was lost in her thoughts and kept fighting. He quickly wrapped his legs around her waist to shift the position to overpower her.

“Stop it, Nathsca!” His hands pinned her down on the floor. She wiggled trying to set herself free from his grip.

She fought for a few moments, then huffed and looked back at her captor. It was hard to tell. Both of them were panting and not moving in the darkness, the heartbeat was drumming in her ears, her breath was warm just like his. Her eyes widen when she realized how small was the space between them, feeling each other´s heat and shaking. She didn’t dare to move or saying anything.

“It´s the Marshal,” He spoke softly to break the tension “You had an accident and I brought you here, remember?” Trying to read her expression in the dark.

Nath focused on his words when the memories jumped back. The chase, her speeder crashing and her face buried in sand, the burning slap across her face and then thuds. Two dead hunters and the armored man. She took a deep breath.

“I'm letting you go, alright?” Cobb said.

She was not sure to reply or make any sound, she nodded lightly. Cobb drops the grip on her wrists and moved back slowly. He sat back and kept his distance before checking on her. Nath rested her back against the wall and winced when she tried to stretch her leg.

Cobb studied her body language and sighed. Maybe he went hard on her but she was being erratic and needed to calm down. Pretty strong for a little lady, he thought.

“Where am I exactly?” She asked.

“Mos Pelgo, my place.” He cleared his throat after feeling her murderous glare. “This is a small community, the folks didn’t feel comfortable having you around and, I offered my place, so you could rest. And dont worry, I just arrived, we are not that kind of place.”

“Which kind of place then?”

“Just a town trying to survive, not letting trouble bite our asses again.” He stood up and offered his hand. The woman looked at him for a moment and took it.

She hopped her way back in bed to sit down. Cobb stood right in front of her and folded his arms getting pretty serious. There was a long silence before he spoke up.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you bringing trouble to the town?”

“I'm not planning on staying.” Nath glared him.

“That´s not what I am asking. I mean, two bounty hunters right after you, you must have quite a story for that, miss.”

“None of your business.” She snapped.

“Is my business if you are a guest in my town.” He kept a serious expression.

Nath just rolled her eyes and drummed her feet on the floor while thinking what to say and what not to say. She didn’t want to get into so many details and share her matters.

“I stole from them.”

“That´s pretty obvious but what did you steal exactly? Cause I don’t think two bounty hunters took so much trouble to chase you just for missing parts.”

Her eyes darted him and frowned. She just decided that she didn’t like this man. He was asking too much like he was a real law figure, which was rare around this planet.

“I don't know. I just took off. Look, mister, if we are gonna have a problem cause I'm staying in your dead town is fine. Just give me back my belongings and I'm out.”

“And walk by yourself in the desert and risk to fall in a sarlac pit cause you don’t know the area?”

“I´ll take my chances.”

Cobb huffed and rubbed his temples to keep his cool. This woman is stubborn, he thought.  

“I'm sorry, I can’t let you go by yourself.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, is not like you are my father.” She folded her arms and frowned.

“No, but I'm in charge of this town.” He moved close enough to look right into her eyes.

“What is that suppose to mean?” She did her best to keep it with the stare.

“That I'm responsible for everyone in here, and that includes you. So, this is what’s gonna happen. You will stay a day or two until that leg gets better but I need to know what’s coming after you.” He had an intense stare, probably the same one he had while shooting down those hunters.

“Cause whatever comes, will find you and take you down easily and, if he pleases, he will stop by the town. I can’t let that happen. So, if it's necessary, I will make you the first prisoner in Mos Pelgo.”

“Are you putting me in a cage?”

“Or a box, your choice.”

“And you expect me to trust you after saying you are gonna put me in a box? Wow.”

He sighed quite exasperated and shook his head. He was just arguing with a stubborn brat that had no interest or respect for the town.

“Listen, I'm just trying to find a solution so no one gets harmed. You are just a kid.”

“I'm not a kid, I can look after myself and always have.” She snapped again. She hated it when people underestimate her or call her kid.

“So, here’s your solution. I'm leaving. I'm not gonna follow your orders just cause you wear a stupid armor and think you can control everyone.”

Cobb sighed in frustration and took a deep breath, he was too tired to keep arguing with her.

“Fine. You are free to go whenever you want.” He was about to exit the room and stopped for a moment.

“Just don’t do something that would harm the town. These are good people if that means something for you. I suppose thieves don’t know much about loyalty.”

Her words sank when he exited the room. She would argue with him or anyone for hours but, that last one did hurt. She was loyal to those she cared or loved, but right now, she was uneasy about everyone after her crew betrayed her.

He betrayed her for what? Crystals? Beskar? She didn’t even want to open that canister again to know her answer.

Nath just curled back in bed, lost in her thoughts, studying the rounded walls in the small room.

She even felt guilty staying there, in his bed, wondered where he might sleep now. Her temper, that stupid temper always got her in trouble. Being rude towards people that are nice to her, like the Marshal.

He saved her from the hunters, patched her up, gave up his bed, and still, she backlashed at him like she was arguing with someone else.

What was this thing about the Marshal that made her angry?

She didn’t even ask for his name.

[grumpy-zane]

((Had a ninjago fan season idea that takes place after s13 and semi centers around Kai ninjago. This seasons theme: Vacation gone wrong! I have segmented it into episodes for convenience. I uh, may or may not dedicate some time to drawing content for this thing, so I apologize in advance. ((also it is. a long post.

Episode 1 - Answering machine going off and its’ Ronins voice over the machine: 'Looks like I’m gonna run late.. ugh this whole thing is falling apart isn't it. But we'll make it work. I got you a ferry to take you there, one of the cruise ships. It was the least I could do for now... I'll meet you there, I promise.'     >Cuts to Dareth on the boat, taking him and the rest of the people to ‘Aves Isle’.    >While everyone is getting off, Dareth helps a naga lady with carrying some of her stuff because Dareth ninjago.    >Naga ladys' name is 'Olive', she is a semi native. She starts talking about the islands' history. 'there used to be a temple but we don't know what happened to it, but it sunk into the ground.    >two investigate the area because Dareth has time to wait on Ronin.    >Upon finding whats’ left of the area and entering, the atmosphere changes and inflicts a weird curse or whatever.    >Dareth starts getting progressively more pushy Episode 2 - After s13 Wu wants to do more adventures so the bounty is just flying wherever the wind takes it I guess w/e {{Also realized I didn’t write much for Wu this entire rest of the story so I am assuming he’s having a grand ol’ time being on vacation}}    >wow it is night time, the bounty is flying in    >The crew ask where they are and Zane starts to go on his normal informative spiel before getting cut off.    >Oh there’s a thing on the radar. What the heck is that thing flying towards us OH GOD THAT’S A BIG ANGRY DRAGON    >Bounty has two smaller 'runner' boats? I guess? marketing. Two of the ninja hop on those and fly off.    >Zane and Jay distract the dragon so the bounty can safely land but it turns out there are two dragons and Jay gets taken down first. Yay soft landing.    >Bounty makes it safely over the fences that are on the island    >Zane gets taken out.    >Cuts back to Dareth and Olive still rooting around. activates something and wow a lava fountain. the ground is glowing in weird markings!    >Dareth snaps at Olive and she wells up and runs away and Dareth snaps out of it temporarily like 'oh crud why did I do that I didn't mean to be so bossy' and goes after her    >Olive gets overtaken and now: pointy.    >Dareth tries to stop her but she jumps into the portal lava whatever? hole?? not sure.    >He, of course, jumps in after.    >Fire Dareth.    >Random golden-looking platform chained to the bottom of the hole they are in. ominous voice: hey how about you get these locks free and we'll rebuild the temple? nice.    >Temple platform rises    >Zane gets tossed into an area? park? fenced in something or another??    >oh hi Jay    >oh community service sorting trash from recyclables? can do.

Episode 3 - The remaining ninja visit the two who are in 'time out' before deciding to have a look around the island.    >They take a nice walk down the beach Cole reminisces about the time Kai was extremely afraid of water    >Kai frowns as a laugh track is played. Claims he has gotten better at it but screams when Nya splashes him.    >Zane and Jay are done with service and its like 'okay how about we try to get out again?’    >Zane suggests doing it in the broad daylight since the dragons went out at night and may be nocturnal    >they try    >they get taken out again    >another round of community service    >sees another aircraft fall out of the sky    >guard: wow more property damage.    >sundown. lloyd notices that something strange is happening with some of the residents randomly getting more nippy and then not. strange. (Ninja get into an arguments with the locals or whatever)    >Stop by community service area    >Jay is now frustrated    >rest recuperate at where they parked the bounty    >Nya: well nothing is really going on here we can probably leave once the two are done breaking the law     >Ronin shows up to the area and is greeted sourly by Jay ninjago

Episode 4 - The ninja are ready to leave when they notice a weird ominous structure that wasn't there before.    >Crew investigate    >oh its hot. you can go in, Kai ninjago    >kai enters    >oh frick fire dareth    >kai ninjago, walking out and is krispy: there is a problem.    >three get out of service    >ronin asks if the little runner ships are 'truly' important    >hekcin steals their engine or whatever    >regroup at the bouty    >Kai: hey uhh, Dareth is peeved haha, I don't get it though he and I hang out every now and then.    >Ronin, internally: oh god he's really mad I didn't follow plans to a T-    >the ninja exchange awkward glances of guilt    >decide it'd be best to talk to him tomorrow, or try to. Also, more people are randomly getting upsetti, Jay is still frustrated.

Episode 5 - jay still has a bad attitude. lloyd is also starting to get upset. Cole tries to diffuse the situation but it causes the two to point their noses up at each other in silent anger. great.    >Kai enters in the temple again, which is even more built than it was before.   >Dareth being snarky   >kai apologizes and tells him he wasn't aware of it, and that he thought the two were good friends, reminding him of the times they hung out outside of mission things.   >Dareth calms down a bit   >finds a reason to be mad again.   >Ronin shows up   >'ronin?'   >''Told you I'd meet you here, what didn't you believe me? not really much of a vacation. How about we get some fresh air?"   >Dareth approaches   >oh no he's really hot.   >cheek caress with the robotic arm. gae.   >two head out. Room is no longer unbearably hot. good!   >squad enters in. goes into one of the inner chambers   >oh look the towns people overtaken by rage are building. nice.   >oh no jay and lloyd are fighting again.   >grabs attention of workers.   >the ninja get their butts handed to themselves, and lose Jay and lloyd in the process. nice   >cuts to Ronin and Dareth walking on the beach.   >Ronin smooth talking, normal Ronin behvior   >Flames and whatever fade from Dareth and he snaps out of it completely and immediately starts pouring out how he feels bad about being rude to Olive and whatever the bad guy is and what the plans of the temple are.   >Ronin: maybe we should tell the ninja. I don't want us to get involved anymore.

Episode 6 - Ronin informs the ninja of what's up.   >Nya: oh no we gotta stop this !   >Dareth: I want to help.   >Ronin: no we are on vacation we shouldn't have to; leave it up to them.   >Dareth: no I started this, this is my fault, I have to make it up to Olive and everyone <:(   >Ronin: :/   >Zane: we should focus on. not making the locals angry because that seems to draw them towards the temple.   >Ninja proceed to do good deeds, while part of them break off to do research   >learn about the bad guy dunn dun dunn!

episode 7 - Kai ninjago somehow is the one keeping the most level head out of everyone here and things get tense again. is it potentially out of character? Well he's mad that lloyd and jay are overtaken but he's doing a good job at self control.   >cuts to lloyd and Jay   >lloyd: this is dumb! why are we helping!? We're supposed to be stopping this!   >Jay: we're helping because YOU dragged us into this with your plan!   >argue. great   >bad guy laughing or whatever, oh the voice has a physical form that's manifesting from the heat of the temple. 'Good, soon I will be reborn and reclaim the island!'   >Olive inform him that Dareth has broken the spell   >bad guy furious and confused but is also like 'whatever we have a lot more important things to worry about'   >Nya and Zane are stepping on each others' toes.   >ronin and Dareth relay what they learned.   >kai sitting in the bounty looking disheveled   >'Human pinata makes the kids happy'. Horrifying.   >story about how the bad guy was dispersed after 'other beings' landed on the island and taught he locals the importance of peace and not war or whatever. It was probably some Oni and dragons chillin.   >Cole: oh! I mean we have two 'other beings' and those are the dragons, but they seem really angry and territorial   >Kai: maybe they want something and just haven't gotten it? ((Id have to mention one of the festivals known as the 'laughing dragon' festival or whatever but it's fallen into obscurity due to the dragons not being happy. Mention that sometime during episode 3))   >investigation time part 3.   >learn that there's a fruit that the dragons like, but the recipee was lost on how to make the disk for them   >well gang, time to get cooking! thank goodness Zane is on our-   >just kidding Zane and Nya are gone now because they got too angry at each other and went to 'get space' but they're probably at the temple now.

Episode 8 - Gotta do the cookin by the book!   >the ingredients are gathered.   >Dareth insists that they used a very speicific brand of exctact.   >Cole has no idea how to cook well   >Kai starts putting things together.   >Cole: when did you learn to cook?   >Kai: Well I had to take care of my sister buutt.. I dunno I think being the master of fire, cooking comes easy. ;)   >Cole: if there's any way I can help just let me know.   >kai: oh, yeah, bust open those things.   >Cole literally smashes open the fruit sending bits everywhere   >good ol happy comedic moment.   >first try   >Cole: . looks. uh. strange.   >Ronin: I am afraid to taste it.   >Dareth: oh I'm sure it can’t be- -face scrunch-   >Kai: <:)   >Dareth: well... I swallowed it.. at least..   >cuts to temple again   >bad guy is like 'we need more people how come everyone stopped coming?? someone needs to go out and start beating people up >:('   >Olive reports that the ninja were gathering ingredients for something or another   >Bad guy is like 'okay send some people there and stop them'

episode 9 - after the 5th attempt it's much more palatable so they make a larger batch and stick it in a boat all fancied up and now have to deliver it   >oh god angry people   >why are they looking at us hhh   >fite   >Kai: we legit cannot let any of this spill otherwise I'm going to scream.   >only way to get it away from the people is to go by ocean   >Ronin: we'll do what we can but you gotta do this kai. You're tough.   >kai: ahaha I still don't like water but!   >boat on water   >gets to the part outside of the gate   >oddly silent.   >kai proceeds to put it on the beach and starts calling out for the dragons and starts making noise or whatever. "im gonna kick your sand! haha! what are you going to do about it??'   >Dragons emerge, ready to fight   >sees the offering. Kai: it's okay it's okay, this is for you.   >backs away from the boat   >lets the dragons have it.   >the smaller one is curious about him and approaches him after   >good ol’ kai dragon interaction. yay confidence!

Episode 10 - wow I sure do hate this sorting plant by now, thinks Ronin ninjago.   >tossed in the sorting plant Cole: this isn't too bad. Dareth: yeah I thought we were going to be burned by the stake, haha! Ronin: oh you'll hate it soon enough.   >Dareth and cole exchange glances. Cole: oh I know, how about we do a song, get a beat going? I'm sure kai has things under control! Dareth: good idea! Keep the spirits high, huh?   >Olive informs that the offering made it out into the ocean   >bad guy says 'no fear the ocean probably will swallow it', both unaware that kai was on the boat.   >temple is nearing completion.   >the angry ninja attempt yet again, to try to make a plan to stop him.   >everyone has a different idea   >they don't work together and go do their own plans.   >lloyd tries to go after him directly   >jay attempts to use his powers to get the workers to stop and go after him   >nya yells at jay   >Zane attempts to take out Olive, with mild success, kicks her out of the temple.   >olive decides to visit in on the captives   >glares at Dareth   >Dareth proceeds to apologize profusely   >Olive is stunned and snaps out of it, sorta. moment of clarity   >apologizes for stopping their plan about the dragons. gives more detail about the situation inside the temple before getting ready to head back.   >ronin. heckin. kidnaps her w/e He wants answers, and also doesn't want her relaying the information she gathered back to the bad guy. Dareth: oh my GOD did you KILL her?? Ronin: :B no messengers.

Episode 11 - The dragons fly overhead and do their little dance and show and yaay, the people are happy!   >people working on the temple stop and notice in awe and decide to go outside to have a look.   >bad guy takes notice and a n g r y, number of the workers stop and go enjoy the show. Some even going to their work areas and getting snacks and things like a festival. Bad guy: where is my messenger?! How did this happen?! steppin out. that's it, I'll deal with this personally.   >bad guy stands on his temple top whatever. Starts blasting fire balls.   >kai ninjago shooting fireballs back to deflect Locals: wow firework show!   >even more stop their progress.   >lloyd notices   >the rest of the ninja notice. lloyd: woah kai ninjago..! Nya: I don't know how long he can last doing that.. Zane: the power comes from the temple.. Jay: so we have to sink the temple!   >sink time   >as the temple starts to submerge again the fire balls become weaker   >bad guy adverts his attention to the ninja and decide to try to take them out   >Kai ninjago shows up and they have a fire bending battle not ripped from avatar at all Jay: kai you gotta get outta there the temple is collapsing! Kai: I will give me a minute!   >This is sparta kicks the dude into the portal thingy lava(?) and gets the heck outta there before everything falls in again.   >yaay, we won!   >mini celebration that's more like we gotta recover

Episode 12 - partially filler episode? w/e   >actual festival held   >good ol relaxing for real this time.   >Dareth: that was fun!   >Ronin: so much for a vacation, seems like trouble is always following you around.   >Dareth: thank god I have you to protect me from it all, huh?   >Ronin: wow gay   >Dareth: also why did you run late?   >Ronin: weeeeeell... that's a long story. B) I'll tell you on the flight back.   >Olive: how did you find the recipe for the thing?   >kai: I didn't I just... I mean, Well, when you have flare like me you tend to know how to make a good dish B)   >Cole: he guessed and messed up 5 times.   >Olive: oh-    >kai: >:( c o l e   >the ninja can actually leave now   >FFIV victory fanfare

[softboywriting]

Holding Fire | Shawn Mendes | Firefighter AU

Summary: Shawn is the newest member of Fire Station 15′s crew and he’s a hot one. It’s not long before you and Shawn hit it off and start an amazing new relationship. Will it last or go up in flames? [firefighter au] [slight angst] [fluff] 

Word Count: 18k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you were ten years old you watched your father’s bakery burn to the ground. When you were sixteen years old you watched your house burn to the ground. Now at twenty two you work at the deli across the street from the fire station that responded to both of those fires and saved you and your families lives. Two of the older firefighters and your father's ex coworkers, Mike and Jack, both stayed in contact with you and became like family to you and your sister after your father died when you were nineteen.

The owner of the deli is Mike, now an ex firefighter, and he hired you just after your dad passed away. The deli is nice and small, you have a few tables for eat in guests and you serve sandwiches and breakfast made to order on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s a local hang out for a lot of the town’s police officers and firefighters and it really feels like home. You have gotten to know everybody by name, you’ve memorized their orders and you even keep up with their personal lives as they come in and talk about their day while you make their lunches. Nothing ever changed much in your little town, not until you watched Shawn walk through the doors of the deli one day, Fire and Safety Station 15 shirt tight across his chest. That day...well...it was something.

______________

“Has lover boy stopped in yet today?” Mariel, your best friend and colleague asks from where she is wiping down the cutting boards after slicing up some lettuce for the upcoming lunch rush. “I heard he couldn’t stop staring at you the other day.”

“Mariel! That is not true! Who told you that?” you laugh and she just zips her lips. “Oh you’re the worst. But no, he hasn’t come in today. It’s not even lunchtime yet, he’s probably out working.”

“Oh yes, out saving kittens from trees and kissing babies!” Mariel cackles as she heads to the back room to grab some bread to put in the oven. “Oh Shawn, please, come rescue me!”

You turn scarlet and throw a towel at her. “Stop it! You’re so mean!”

“You’re so single. Get his number, or I will.”

“Mariel you wouldn’t.” She raises her eyebrows as if to challenge your statement. “Mare, you better not. You know I like him and that would be-”

Someone clears their throat at the order counter behind you and you turn around to see Shawn standing there with a flushed face and mess of wet curls on his head. “Could I order?” he smiles, biting his lip.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” you splutter, grabbing your order pad and a pen out of your pocket.

“Long enough to know you were arguing about a guy?” Shawn laughs and you let out a sigh. He hadn’t heard his name. Thank god.

You put your pen and pad on the counter and start scribbling down the orders Shawn gives you for the guys at the station. “And what would you like?” you ask, looking up to see he is smiling at you.

“Actually, I’d like you to make me something today. Your favorite?”

“Yeah?” you giggle and he crosses his arms, making that oh so fitted tee pull across his chest. “You think you can handle my favorite?”

Shawn bites his lip and chuckles. “I think I can handle it, just no tuna please. I’m not wild on tuna salad sandwiches.”

“Damn, my favorite is the tuna.”

“Really?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No! No really. Tuna is gross. Alright, one special of the day.” You scribble it down on your order pad and clip it up on the sandwich station. Mariel comes over and helps you to prepare meats on the slicer for the sandwiches while Shawn leans with his arms folded against the high counter where the toppings are all displayed for easy choosing.

“He’s staring at you,” Mariel whispers and you clench your jaw. “I think he is looking at your ass.”

“Mariel, I’m going to slice my hand if you don’t stop distracting me.”

“I’m just saying, he’s staring right over the counter like a love sick puppy dog.”

You turn around to grab a new ham from the cold case under the topping station and you’re met with Shawn staring, just like Mariel said. “Was there something else you needed?” you ask and Shawn shakes his head. “Just curious?”

“Very curious.”

Mariel turns around and grins. “Curious enough to ask for her number?”

Shawn turns bright red and looks between the two of you. “Well I-I really meant I was curious about what kind of sandwich she's making me.”

“It's a special. Don't worry about it,” you smile teasingly and Shawn drops his head against the top of the case. “I know what you like.”

“Damn girl,” Mariel clucks, elbowing your side. “He's gonna turn into a tomato if you keep up that flirting.”

From the counter behind you, you hear a mumbled “too late” and you know it's Shawn still hiding his face in his arms. He was so cute, a grown man but still somehow boyishly cute. Ugh. Perfect.

You prepare Shawn's sandwich the way you like yours on your lunch break. A classic Italian with extra pepperoni, olive moufletta and spicy brown mustard, toasted. You're sure he will love it. He always got the Italian cold or the French dipped roast beef with extra onion and pepper relish. You had to admit, the guy had good taste in sandwiches. Unlike some guys who came in and they looked cute but their plain turkey with American cheese and mayo turned you way off. Bland eats what bland is.

Mariel helps you sack up the sandwiches and label them according to the list Shawn gave you. She spares you any further embarrassment or attempts at flirting and rings him up while you clean up the slicer and building station. That doesn't stop Shawn from saying goodbye, smiling and tucking a ten dollar bill into the tip jar on his way out.

“You gotta get that man tied down,” Mariel says as she watches him jog across the street. “He's too fine to be the one that got away.”

You wipe your hands on your apron and shrug. “Well...I dunno. I'm just a little wary about him. Like where did he come from? We know everyone in town and this mysterious stranger just appears and has an interest in me? I dunno.”

Mariel rolls her eyes. “You're such a weirdo. If you need to know his whole life story why don't you ask him out?”

“I can't! I mean look at him!”

“Look at you! Damn he thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread! Come on girl read the signals, they're saying, date me date me in big flashing red letters!” Mariel flashes her hands out in front of you for emphasis. “Don't. Let. Him. Slip. Away.”

“Okay! Fine. This weekend is the annual firehouse block party. I'll try to talk to him then.”

“You better or else I'm going to find some way to trap you in a room with him so you have no choice.”

“I will. I promise.”

__________________

Station 15’s annual block party was the event of the summer. It was held at the end of August every year rain or shine and always included live music, barbecue, dancing, games, you name it. Ever since you were little you could remember going to it. The real fun started after the kids went home and it was just the adults in the firehouse drinking and shooting the shit with each other. You remember how your dad would always talk for hours with Mike and Jack, sending you and your sister home with the babysitter for the night. It wasn't until you were eighteen that you were allowed to stay, and even then it was mostly older towns people who stuck around.

These days there was a lot more of a younger crowd, people in their twenties like you are. All your friends having come back from college or having already graduated. The party is bigger now, with families growing every year it seemed. You love it, seeing everyone so happy and together. Usually you'd end up playing games with the young kids because they always looped you into their shenanigans, but this year you had a different agenda. One with Shawn written all over it.

“Can I get a whiskey ginger?” You call out to the guy with his back to you at the bar that is set up inside the firehouse garage. He turns and you find it's none other than Shawn.

“Hey,” he beams, smile going ear to ear. “I didn't know if I'd see you tonight.”

“Ah yeah, I come every year. What about you? Why are you bartending?”

Shawn grabs a bottle of whiskey and starts preparing your drink. “Well I volunteered while the actual bartender stepped out to get some more ice. He should be back soon.”

“Do you know what you're doing?” You chuckle as he accidentally pours the soda all over the little wooden countertop.

“Shit,” he mumbles, wiping it up quick. “I do know what I'm doing surprisingly. Bar tending put me through college,” he chuckles, passing you your drink in it's red solo cup.

You raise your eyebrows. A firefighter who was a bartender who possibly has a degree. What kind of dream boat were you dealing with. “That's interesting, what'd you go to college for?”

“Nothing really, I ended up just going to a community college in Ashland for two years before I decided I hated it. A friend of mine got me into the fire academy and here I am.”

“Wow, you like it though? Firefighting?”

Shawn makes himself a whiskey ginger as well and places it next to yours on the counter top. “It has its days but it's generally very rewarding.”

The bartender returns with a bag of ice that he pours into a cooler. You recognize him to be a guy you went to high school with that you're pretty sure your sister dated. You don't want to hash that past out so you grab your drink and lead Shawn over to a couple of lawn chairs set up for the fireworks show.

“How bout you? College?” Shawn asks as he sinks into the chair beside you. He takes a sip and smiles expectantly.

You shake your head. “College wasn't really on the table for me when I graduated. My sister and I had a hard time after our house burnt down when I was in high school. Then not too long after I graduated my dad died so, it just...it was hell for a few years there.”

“Oh, wow. I didn't realize that I had brought up such a sore subject I'm so sorry.”

You take a sip and lean back in your chair. Your dad's passing still hurt, even three years later and it still felt like just a few months ago. You missed him, especially during things like this, things he helped set up in the community. “No, it's fine. It's been three years now. Cait and I are surviving, I've got the deli and my side business. She got married last year and has a kid on the way.”

“Side business?”

“Yeah, I bake. My dad was a great baker, he started late in life after an accident as a firefighter messed up his leg, had his own place and everything. It burned down, but he reopened a year later. When he passed I couldn't run it alone and Cait had already moved out of town and was starting her own life. We closed up and I started work at the deli while baking on the side, mostly catering small events.”

Shawn crosses his arms and just looks at you. In awe of you it would seem. “You've survived two fires? Damn. My story isn't half as interesting.”

“Oh yeah? Spill your guts.”

“Well, I graduated and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I took a few classes at the community college just to get some credits out of the way y’know. I picked up bartending with a friend at a bar in downtown Ashland for some extra cash. I did that for about two years before realizing I hated everything about college and the stress caused me ulcers. Another friend of mine had just joined the fire academy and I figured why not? Turned out I was pretty good at saving people.”

“So you never dreamed of being a firefighter? Like as a kid?”

“Nah, never. I wanted to be a doctor but I couldn't commit. Too much responsibility and too many years of school. I guess I just wanted to help people, and this job is just as rewarding and important as being a doctor.”

You glance over and he has his head back, watching the stars appear in the darkening sky overhead. His profile is amazing, strong jaw, perfectly shaped nose and soft lips. He was living art and you're not drunk enough to be admiring him this way. “That's pretty deep,” you say over a sip of your drink. “Do you always pour your heart out to women you like?”

Shawn chuckles as his smile grows wide, a flush on his cheeks. “I don't but I guess you're easy to talk to.”

“Yeah? You're easy to talk to too.”

A loud noise from your left makes you jump and you see a big glowing ball shoot into the air. It's the first firework and it pops, showering the sky with purple and blue light. Shawn downs the rest of his drink and stands, moving his chair right beside you instead of a foot or two away. You don't say anything about the boldness but you like it. He was definitely one worth pursuing.

______________

Sunday. You're still feeling the effects of the block party as you walk to work. You rarely drank enough to get drunk but when you did, whew, you sure did. You and Shawn had ended up meeting up with a couple of the other firefighters and staying up until well after midnight drinking and chatting. It was the most fun you've had in ages and the residual gross body and headache was well worth it.

“So you and hot stuff get together?” Mariel asks as you slip your apron over your head to start the day. “I saw you two in the firehouse drinking and giggling.”

“No,” you chuckle, grabbing some sausage from the fridge to get it started for breakfast. “Shawn walked me home and we parted ways at my doorstep. Like a gentleman.”

“Right but did he kiss you?”

“Mariel, come on! He didn't kiss me. He just said goodnight and went home.”

Mariel snorts. “Do you think he's...”

You sigh and send her a look that could cut glass. “No. I don't think he is gay. He was plenty interested in me and it is not like the time that I read everything completely wrong with William Hannover.” You flip your sausage patty angrily, hitting the flattop with a little more force than necessary with your spatula. Just the idea of going through the embarrassment like you did with William was enough to piss you off. “God, just because he didn't kiss me after one night doesn't mean he's gay. I'll have you know he was-”

Mariel eyes go wide and she mouths “Shawn” and points to the front counter. You turn slowly and Shawn is standing there. He looks like he's just gotten out of the shower, cheeks rosy and hair a little damp and wildly curly on top. His shirt is threatening to rip over his biceps as he puts his arms up on the counter. That must be some damn good cotton stretch fabric. He raises his eyebrows at you. God only knows how long he was standing there but clearly heard you going off.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “And for the record, I am not gay.”

“Oh my God.” You feel like you could just die. Just shrivel up and blow away like a tumbleweed. “I don't think- I mean Mariel just said that because you didn't kiss me...not that you needed to because...fuck.” You put your hand over your flushed face. What a complete ass you've made of yourself. “I've just had a misunderstanding in the past and it's really stupid and-”

“It's okay. I'm not offended or something. I just didn't kiss you because we were drunk, and I don't think anyone should do anything if they're not fully aware and consenting.” Shawn brings his hand up to prop up his chin as he stares at you, smiling around his words. “I actually came by to see if you'd like to go on a date.”

Mariel steps in and grabs the spatula from you. She pushes you toward Shawn with a “I'll worry about the food, go talk to him.”

You walk up to the counter and bite your lip. A date huh? Were you up for that? Maybe. “What kind of date?”

“Dinner? Walk on the beach? Matching tattoos?” He smirks at the last one and you narrow your eyes.

“Dinner is fine. Casual or fancy?”

“Is casual okay? Your choice of restaurant.”

You take a deep breath and smile. “Okay, casual it is. Meet me at The Crab Shack?”

“Tonight or this weekend?”

“This weekend is good. Saturday around six?”

“Perfect. Now, can I get some breakfast or...”

“Oh shit,” you feel around your apron for your order pad. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Shawn laughs. “Take your time, it's a big order. All the guys want something.”

_____________________

Wednesday. You wake up and you just know it's going to be a shitty day. When you look at the calendar and see the date, you know exactly why. It's been a year since you broke up with your ex, Brodie Douglas. Six months you dated him and it seemed serious, you were sure he was gonna be the one you settled down with. Until you caught him in your bed with another girl. It was disgusting. You actually took your mattress to the dump after that and used your savings to buy a new one.

You hadn't seen Brodie since then. The day he left your house he was gone for good. He didn't live in town, he lived closer to Ashland about an hour away. It hurt, still sort of hurt to be honest and every guy since him had been a real flop too. Until Shawn. He actually seemed to have some respect for women and other human beings in general.

You push your thoughts aside, putting the past in the past where it belongs. You had work to do, people to see, a life to live. A life without any assholes in it.

You get in the shower, hot steam filling the bathroom. Your favorite body wash is almost out and you sigh, filling it halfway with hot water and shaking up the remains. That sucked. You definitely didn't want to make a trip into Ashland just to go to the bath and body works. The cab fare alone would dig into your savings. Regular drugstore body wash it would be then.

Midway through soaping up your hair you hear a knock on your front door. You figure if you ignore them they'll probably go away. Besides if it was someone you know then they could text or call you before coming over. You continue washing and the knocking returns.

“Okay fucking really,” you mutter, snatching your towel off the rack and going to the front door. Your hair is dripping wet and there is soap in your left eye. This person better really need something. “Hello?” You ask sharply as you pull open your front door to the cold morning air.

The person on your porch turns and your stomach drops. It's Brodie. His hair has grown out, he looks like he's gained a few pounds and by Gods he's so ugly. Why the fuck were you ever with him? Did he always look like this? Fucking hell.

“Hey, long time no see,” he smiles weakly.

“Goodbye.” You slam the door in his face and flip the lock. This was a joke right? He was going to show up a year later on the day you kicked him out? This had to be some sick joke. What kind of psychopath was he?

“Wait! I need to talk to you!” Brodie yells through the door and you turn to go back to your shower. If he thought you wanted to hear a single word out of his mouth then he was gravely mistaken. “God you're such a bitch!”

You take your time getting ready for work, blow drying your hair and putting on your lotion far slower than you ever would regularly. You want to make sure he is gone before you leave the house. At a quarter till 7 you peek out your front curtains. His car is still parked across the street. The same piece of shit Honda he had before. Great.

You leave the house out the back and jump your neighbors fence to cut across the yards to the intersecting street that lead to the deli. You're sure Brodie is going to notice you haven't left the house and he'll come searching for you eventually, figuring out you snuck out the back. You'd deal with that when you came to it.

Surprisingly work goes smoothly for the most of the morning. You don't mention Brodie to Mariel because you know she will hunt him down and probably knife him. She was there for you after the break up and dealt with the fallout with you. She hated Brodie about as much as you did. It's not until lunch that shit hits the fan.

You're in the middle of making an order for the station that Jeremy called in a little after noon when Brodie appears. You've just finished an italian sub and you look up the see Brodie standing there at the counter.

“Hey, come on, hand me the...” Mariel trails off as she turns to see what was taking you so long. “What the fuck do you want?” She sneers, eyes boring a hole through Brodie and into the back wall.

“I need to talk to you,” Brodie says completely disregarding Mariel's existence. “I wanted to talk about-”

“Yeah I really wanna talk to you after you called me a bitch this morning.”

Mariel steps around in front of you and grabs the lettuce knife out of it's holder on the counter. She rests her arm casually up on the top of the countertop window, knife dangling oh so threateningly. “Listen buddy. If she wanted to talk to you, she'd give you a call. You fucked up, you don't get a second chance.”

“Please I just want to apologise. It wasn't me, I wasn't myself back then or at the house today,” he says, leaning to look past Mariel to where you've turned your back to him.

“Fuck off,” Mariel growls. “Or you're going to be the special of the day.”

“I'm not talking to you bitch,” Brodie sneers at her and pushes off the counter, knocking the tip jar to the ground where it shatters. “I'll see you later then,” he says and he slams the door behind him, the bell chiming harshly throughout the deli.

Marel drops the knife in it's holder and puts her arm around you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. “Thanks. He showed up at the house this morning but I shut the door on him. I knew he'd be back but I just...I just wasn't ready.”

“No no, it's okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Mare. I hope he gets the hint y'know?”

“Yeah or else.”

_____________

Brodie doesn't get the hint because he's about as thick as an oak door when it comes to reading situations. It's 3pm and you're heading home, watching for Brodie's car as you exit the deli, hand on the pepper spray in your pocket. Not that you think Brodie would try anything but you never know. You're crossing the street toward the fire station when you see him. He's heading toward you on foot as if he had been waiting at the park catty corner to the deli.

You know exactly where to go. The firehouse. All the guys knew you, it would be safer than walking alone with Brodie following you. You keep your eyes locked on the side door to the garage where the trucks are kept. It was always unlocked while the guys were in house. You had delivered sandwiches a few times. You can hear Brodie getting closer, his boots scraping on the pavement behind you.

The door opens just as you get to it and you push past Jeremy, the current station manager. Jeremy mumbles a quiet “What the hell?” But you don't waste time explaining.

Shawn is sitting on one of the old sofas in the living area that is open to the garage and he looks up as you make a bee line for him. He was safe. He would keep Brodie out. You know it. “Hey, what's going on,” he asks and stands up, circling the sofa to meet you.

“I...can you take me home?”

“Yeah, you okay?” Shawn lays his hand on your arm and rubs up to your shoulder. “You look pretty shaken.”

“Was that guy bothering you?” Jeremy asks as he walks into the living area. “I saw him following you and then turn away when you came in.”

You glance over at Jeremy and shake your head. “Yeah, he's nobody. It's fine. I just need a ride.”

“No, was he bothering you?” Shawn asks, stepping past you and heading to the door. “I can go talk to him. No, y'know what, I'm gonna.”

“Shawn don't.” You follow after him but his stride is longer and he is already opening the door. It's half closed by the time you get to it and when you go out you can see Shawn walking across the driveway towards Brodie who's heading back to the park. “Shawn! Stop!”

You jog over just as Shawn reaches Brodie. “Hey, you,” Shawn barks and Brodie turns around.

You grab Shawn's arm and pull him but it's no use. He's far bigger than you in every way. There is no way you can hold him back, he's over six feet of basically pure muscle. His arm flexes under your grip and you can't help but squeeze tighter. “Shawn, please.”

“The fuck do you want dude?” Brodie asks, eyes going to you and then to your hands around Shawn's arm, and finally to Shawn's face.

“You better leave her alone, and stop following girls home.”

Brodie scoffs. “I wasn't following her home. I just need to discuss some private business with her.”

“Yeah, that seems like it would have been a very one sided conversation if she came to the firehouse to get away from you.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway? Her fuckin body guard?”

“Brodie, just go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. We're done, it's over. It's been a year, move on dude. I have.” You step back so you're more behind Shawn. For some reason you're very uncomfortable with Brodie. Something about him wasn't right.

Brodie clicks his tongue and lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh I see what this is. He's your boyfriend right? Got yourself a firefighter in case your house burns down again?”

That hurt. Like a punch to the gut. You don't have time to snap back at him because Shawn's arm is pulling away from yours and colliding with his face. The sound is sickening and you're sure Brodie's nose is broken. He drops like a sack of potatoes, crumpling to his knees on the pavement holding his face.

“Let's go,” Shawn says, shaking his hand out and putting his arm around you to walk you away. “I'll drive you home.”

“You hit him, Shawn, you just punched him!”

“Yeah because he was being an asshole. Don't act like you didn't think about doing it yourself.”

You try to look back, not out of concern, but out of curiosity. Shawn turns your head back forwards and keeps walking you toward his truck parked in the stations lot. “Is he going to be okay?”

Shawn shrugs. “Listen,” he stops with you by the passenger side of the truck. “If you wanna go back and see if he's okay, be my guest. Somehow I really don't think you're going to though. Now can you get in the truck so I can take you home?”

You look back and Brodie is still on the ground. Fuck no you weren't going to go over there. He was an asshole and frankly Shawn was right. You had thought about punching him in his stupid face since the day you found him cheating. Yeah your punch probably would not have done nearly as much damage and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't just as gratifying to have Shawn punch him for you. Maybe he'd get the hint now.

Shawn clicks to unlock his truck on his key fob and you open the door to climb up and in. It's really nice, clean inside like it was new and big. Fitting for a guys Shawn's size. Somehow you don't think it's an overcompensation thing. Shawn gets in and starts it up, pulling out of the lot and passing Brodie who is now up and heading toward the park again. You get just barely a glimpse but you could tell his face is a gruesome scene. Suits him. The ugly prick.

Shawn drops you off, walking you up to your door and making sure you get inside okay. You highly doubt that Brodie would come after you for any reason but honestly you couldn't be one hundred percent sure. He seemed to have snapped and lost his mind in the last year.

“You sure you're gonna be okay? I can stay a while just in case,” Shawn says leaning against the doorway. “I don't mind.”

“No, it's fine. I don't think he's going to bother me anymore. If he shows up I'll call the cops.”

“Yeah, good idea. But just in case I'll give you my number.”

You raise your eyebrows. He was slick. Just working that number exchange right in there like that. “Alright, okay,” you smile, shaking your head as you pull out your phone and he tells you his number. “I'll text you if I need you.”

“What's your number?” He asks, pulling his own phone out of his cargo pocket.

You shake your head. “I'll text you if I need you. Then you'll get my number.”

Shawn smiles, chuckling just a little. He thought he was slick, well, you were slicker. “Alright then. I see how it is. Well, have a good night. Be safe.”

“Yes sir,” you murmur with a little salute as you grab the door and close it with a goodnight. Letting him in was tempting but you think maybe you oughta have a first date before he gets to see the inside of your place. You'd learned your lesson about diving head first into relationships already.

___________________

Saturday. You're sitting on a bench outside the crab shack waiting for Shawn to show up. It's a calm night, breezy and a little chilly. Enough to warrant a light jacket. You mentally note to ask for a inside table and not one on the deck. The restaurant is fairly busy, Saturday night being a popular date and family night apparently. You're not too surprised though. You used to work weekends bussing tables here in high school for about a year before things went to shit with your house and your dad falling ill.

You sigh, looking up at the big decorative crab that held onto the sign over the front doors. As a kid you always begged your dad to lift you up to touch it. It wasn't until you were eight that you ever actually reached it. How satisfying that day was.

“Hey.”

You turn and look to see who's calling out and you see Shawn walking up in a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. “Oh, hey, you made it.”

“Of course I did. Whatcha looking at?” He asks, nodding toward the sign.

“Oh nothing. Just the crab. I used to beg my dad to lift me up to touch it.” You chuckle at how ridiculous that sounds now. “Come on, let's go inside.”

Shawn lets you lead the way along the sidewalk and up to the doors. As you approach the doors a pair of hands wrap around your waist and suddenly you're being lifted up. You let out a shriek and you hear Shawn laughing.

“Touch the crab!” He says, hardly audible through his laughter.

You reach out and touch the lowest dangling leg and he brings you down quickly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh you know you wanted to touch the crab.”

You smack his chest and he giggles, jumping back to avoid further assault. “Okay, okay I'll warn you next time.”

“Oh so you think there's gonna be a next time?”

“A guy can hope right?”

“Right,” you roll your eyes and walk into the restaurant, Shawn hot on your heels.

The two of you are seated right away in a booth that had a window out to the deck. You chat a little bit about how the firehouse is pretty slow and Shawn mostly naps all day or works out. The waiter comes and takes your orders. You get a burger with a side salad and Shawn gets the shrimp linguine. He makes fun of you for not getting seafood at the seafood restaurant but it's all in good fun. You both know the burgers are just as killer as the seafood and he really can't blame you.

“So, how'd you end up here?” You ask, sipping on your strawberry lemonade.

“The firehouse was looking to hire on a few guys and I was looking to get a job.”

“So you grew up in Ashland?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, I grew up in Benton. I just went to the community college in Ashland.”

“Benton? The farm town?”

“Yeah, my parents are soybean farmers. I am a farm kid,” he chuckles, looking out the window. “What a shocker I know.”

“Not really. You definitely aren't like any of the guys from the city I've ever known. I guess you were probably raised better than a lot of them though.”

“I dunno. I mean my parents instilled a lot of values into me as a kid, but I got into my fair share of trouble and I had my less than graceful moments growing up.”

You shrug. “I think we all have had our moments in our youth, it's whether or not you learn from them and grow up that matters.”

“You're right, that's a good way of putting it. Damn did I learn some hard lessons though. What about you? Are you from here?”

“Yep. Born and raised here. My parents were both bakers, my mom passed away shortly after I was born so I never really knew her.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no it's fine,” you pause, stirring your lemonade. “Cait, my sister, was like a mom to me growing up. Well, as motherly as she could be. She's only five years older.”

“You said your parents were bakers, that's what you like to do too right?”

“Yeah. I have all my dad's recipes and I'd love to have my own place one day but that's a far off dream. For now I just cater small events and I have a Facebook page.”

The food arrives and your conversation slows as you eat but quickly picks back up as you start discussing the food and trying each other's meals. Shawn tells you about the first time he came to the crab shack with the guys from the station. They ordered two crab boils and ate out on the deck on the long party tables. You'd done it once before for Mike’s birthday a few years back.

The night dwindles down and your pack up what's left of your burger and a few of Shawn's shrimps that he saved for you. He pays, refusing to show you the bill and saying don't worry about it even though you insisted on splitting the cost.

Shawn drives you home, walking you to your door like he had done each time he had taken you home before. This time though you don't go inside right away, you linger on the porch.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You're welcome, I hope you had fun. I know I did.”

“It was great. And thanks again, y'know for the other day with Brodie.”

Shawn crosses his arms and chuckles, looking down as he kicks the toes of his boots against your doormat. “Of course. Anytime. I don't mind punching a douchebag.”

“Fuck, oh my god no!” You laugh, pushing his shoulder. “I meant thank you for being there for me in general. I don't want you punching people.”

“Right, right. But you kinda liked it, I know you did because you had a little triumphant smile on your face the whole way home afterwards.” He reaches out and pinches your cheek. “Just a cute little smirk right here.”

“Quit it!” You giggle, batting at his arm.

He flattens his hand and cups your jaw, instantly changing the whole mood from playful to intimate. His fingers brush against the nape of your neck, thumb smoothing over the little chicken pox scar on your cheek from when you were very little. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly, stepping closer so there's but a few inches between you.

“You're not too bad yourself.”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” Shawn asks, eyes heavy on your lips.

You give a little nod and he leans in. His lips are soft against yours and he caresses the back of your head. It's easily the tenderest kiss you've ever received and it leaves you a little speechless.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You nod numbly, the feeling of his lips lingering as he steps off the porch. He crosses the yard and gets into his truck. You're left there, nerves memorizing the feel of his hand in your hair, his palm on your cheek, his lips on your lips. You never want to snap out of it, you want to stay like this forever.

______________________

For the next few days Shawn stops in for meals for the firehouse. He always chats a bit, making you giggle and flush. Mariel loves to tease you endlessly when he leaves but you can't care because he makes you so happy. Shawn hasn't mentioned a second date yet and you don't want to bring it up in case he doesn't want to, though you're sure he does. You suspect he may be giving you space after the Brodie incident.

You have an event to cater on Thursday. A baby shower in town for your ex coworker Cara. She has asked for three dozen baby boot shaped cookies in blue icing and a small cake with blue iced middle an a white outside. A classic gender reveal cake. You start work on Tuesday so you can be ready to go on Wednesday evening. It's a fairly simple order.

Thursday after work you head to the party, driving Mariel's car to transport the baked goods safely. You arrive and the mother to be, Cara, is elated with the cookies and cake. She helps you set up the cake on a stand and get the cookies into a little box she had on hand to keep them a secret until the reveal.

You're on the deck outback talking to an old friend from high school when you hear a familiar voice. Shawn. You turn and look through a small crowd of people and see him, towering over everyone by the sliding glass doors. He is hugging Cara, and holds up a little bag with a bow on it. So he knows Cara, small world.

“Hey you,” Shawn grins, catching your eye and walking over after greeting Cara. “What're you doing here?”

“I could ask the same.”

“Cara is my cousin.”

“Ohh. I know her because she used to work at the deli. Wow such a small world.”

Shawn chuckles. “Very small. Can I get you a drink?”

“I'm good. Thanks though. How's work been? I know you said you had a call on Monday and that's why you didn't come in for lunch.”

“Yeah, it wasn't much. Just some punk kids setting fire in a trash can at the high school. Everything was fine.” Shawn follows you as you walk into the house because Cara is gathering everyone around for cake and cookies before starting the baby shower games. “How bout you?”

“Usual, work and then going home.”

“No word from Brodie?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. I think he got the message to leave me alone.” You take a seat on a stool in the kitchen while everyone gathers around Cara at the table in the attached dining area. “Have you been keeping your distance because of Brodie?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows. “I've been keeping my distance?”

You shrug.

“Is this because I haven't asked you out again? Because Brodie has nothing to do with that. I promise I want to go out again but I've been covering Ryan's over nights at the station. His wife is sick and I volunteered to help him out.”

“You've been working twenty four hours?”

“More like seventy two hours almost. I got this evening off since Ryan wasn't scheduled.”

“You are gonna crash. I know you can take naps at the station but still, it's not good sleep.” You lay your hand on his arm. “Promise me you'll get some rest tonight?”

“I promise I will. Are you free Friday night?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Meet me at the station around eight?”

You raise your eyebrows and he looks away as the group around the table cheer in congratulations for Cara. James, Cara's husband, calls Shawn over and he walks away to give Cara a hug and congratulate her as well. You watch as he snags a cookie from the box on the table and grins at you, holding it up before taking big bite while James talks to him about something. You roll your eyes. You were definitely going to go on the date with him, even if it was just hanging out at the firehouse. You liked Shawn that much, you could just watch TV with him. Damn. He was getting to you.

_____________

Friday night. You have no idea what to expect as you walk up to the firehouse. Shawn's truck is in the lot and so is Jeremy and Max's. Three meant that was the whole overnight crew. Had Shawn forgotten about your date? You open the side door of the firehouse and walk into the darkened garage toward the living area. It's quiet, no one around and you can feel your heart sink.

“Hey, you're early,” Shawn says, appearing from a doorway to your right. “I was just coming to meet you outside.”

“Oh, are we leaving? Aren't you on the night shift?”

Shawn chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. His shirt strains across his chest and you can't help but bite your lip. “I am on the night shift. I hoped we could stay in and have our date here?”

“Here? But aren't the guys here?”

“They're asleep in the bunks upstairs. I promise we won't be bothered.”

“And what are we doing?”

“Well,” Shawn steps back through the doorway and you follow him. He leads you into the small station kitchen and you can see all the basics for baking laid out on the counter tops. “I thought maybe we could bake together. Or more of you teach me how to bake.”

You grin. A baking date might just be the best thing you'd ever heard of. Shawn was truly a man after your heart. You circle around the center island and touch the bag of flour, chocolate chips, sugar and mini cupcake liners. “So do you want cupcakes or muffins?”

Shawn walks around to meet you and he's holding two aprons in his hand. “Muffins. They're my favorite cheat day food.”

You slide the apron on over your head and look down. It has a little muffin picture glued on to a felt heart. It's cute and you're pretty sure it's hand made. “Did you make this?” You giggle, smoothing your hand over the front of yourself.

“I did. I thought it was cute and you'd like it.” Shawn puts his apron on and his has a matching design. “Now, how bout those muffins?”

Shawn doesn't pay attention to half of what you say as you make the muffins. He tries so hard, he really does and you can tell. His focus is mostly on you, telling you how cute you are and how you're so good at this because you can do it without a recipe.

Every time you ask for him to measure something for you he asks what cup that is. You're pretty sure he has never baked a day in his life let alone used a measuring cup or measuring spoons. How he survived this long you'll never know.

“Shawn, have you not cooked before?” You ask with a giggle as you swat his hand away from the chocolate chips you're measuring.

“I cook all the time. I just don't bake. I don't measure anything other than rice or like liquids.” He leans against your back and tries to sneak his hand around to steal chips. He thinks he's slick. “Let me have some!”

“No!” You giggle and jerk the cup of chips away from his hand. You end up spilling them mostly in the bowl. “Oh you better stop.”

“Or what?” He asks against your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

“I won't make your muffins.”

Shawn's hands slide around your front and up your stomach. “Just one chocolate chip. Just a little tiny one.”

“Fine.” You grab exactly one chocolate chip and hold it up.

He leans over, pressing you into the counter with his chest and waist slotted firmly against your back. He closes his mouth around your fingers and takes the chip. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your ear, kissing it tenderly.

“You're welcome,” you whisper though you're very much alone in the kitchen with him.

Shawn pulls away, turning to grab the muffin tins off the island counter and the tension is broken just like that. He oils the pans just like you reminded him to earlier because the liners he bought were for a mini pan and he had a regular size pan. You can't help but watch as he carefully wipes each cup with an oiled paper towel, deliberately coating every inch of the metal. Something about him being so focused, so interested in baking, makes your heart flutter.

You turn your focus back to the batter. There was no time to be getting caught up in your feelings yet. This was only the second date. “Are you ready for the batter?”

“Yes ma'am,” Shawn grins, holding up his oiled pan. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “I promise I won't make you eat muffins that are scraped out of the tin.”

“I mean I'd still enjoy them, but yeah it's a little easier when they're whole.”

“Okay, put them in the oven for twenty minutes and then we'll be set.”

Shawn carries the pan to the preheated oven and puts it in. “So, what do we want to do while these cook?” He grabs a handful of chocolate chips off the bowl on the counter and shoves it in his mouth. “We have movies.”

“You don't have a plan?”

“Well...ah...” He rubs his neck. “I suck at planning?”

“Obviously.” You walk towards him, hand raised to wipe a smear of chocolate chip on his lip. “You got some chocolate. Hold still.” You wipe it with your thumb but it just smears it. You can't help but stare at his soft pink plush looking lips. They're so kissable, so not chapped and ready for you to lean in and taste.

“Did you get it?”

“Quit talking.” You try again and it almost all comes off. “Hold still there's a little bit left.”

Shawn raises his arm and wipes it on his hand. “Better?”

“Worse!” You let out a laugh and he looks helpless. “I think you had some on your hand!”

“You're gonna have to lick it off.”

“Oh no I'm not.”

“Oh?” He steps closer, backing you against the island. “So you don't want to kiss me? That's not why you were staring at my lips, mouth parting, tongue peaking out to wet them...”

“Shut up.” You lean up and kiss him, licking the chocolate off his lip and smiling in the process. His lips were just as sweet and soft as you imagined.

Shawn brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Knew you wanted to.”

“You talk too much.”

Shawn grins and presses his lips to yours once more. The kiss grows heated and intense. His hand find your hips, yours find his hair and back. You lick into his mouth and he responds just as eagerly.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear someone walk in. You don't even know they're there until you hear, “In the kitchen? Come on.”

Shawn turns his head, eyeing the intruder. You look too, cheeks hot with embarrassment. In the doorway is Jeremy.

“I don't want to know. I just want a water bottle and one of whatever you're making when they're done.”

“Of course, yeah,” you say with a nervous little laugh.

Jeremy grabs his water and mutters something about damn kids these days. As soon as he's out of sight you raise your eyebrows at Shawn.

“They were asleep, I promise.” Shawn pleads. “I'm sorry I embarrassed you.”

“It's okay, I'm not that embarrassed. We were just kissing. But since he is up now, maybe we should keep it a little more low key?”

“Yeah,” Shawn chuckles. “I'll grab some cards if you're up for a few games?”

“Sure.”  

The rest of the night you and Shawn play cards in the kitchen, eat muffins and just talk about all sorts of stuff. He asks about Brodie but you're not too keen on rehashing that past quite yet. You ask him about his parents and what they think of him becoming a firefighter and not taking over the farm. They're actually very proud of him and never expected him to work the farm if he wasn't interested. They were very supportive of him. The night winds down and you're stuffed with enough muffins and decaf coffee to gain a few pounds. Shawn offers to take you home and you accept, taking one last muffin for the road.

________________

“So what's new?” You ask Cait as you walk around your room looking for something to wear on another date with Shawn this coming weekend. He had stopped by the deli on Monday and asked you to go to the beach with him.

“Oh not much, just bedridden and seriously fat,” Cait laughs.

“Oh quit it. You're not fat. The baby is probably fat.”

“You're right on that one. Adam is a big guy, I'd be shocked if this baby was less than seven or eight pounds.”

“So you're due any day huh?”

Cait shuffles around and you're pretty sure she drop the phone for a second. “Any day now. I insisted on not being admitted early because of the bills. I'm beginning to regret that though. This little bugger is killing my back.”

“I bet. Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not yet. We're torn between Nathaniel and Andrew.”

You put your phone on speaker and grab a dress out of your closet. It's a nice simple black A-line. Maybe not too beachy. “Why not use one as a middle name?”

“I'm using dad's name for his middle name. Besides, I'm partial on Nathaniel. It works best with dad's name.”

“You're right. Definitely go with Nathaniel.”

“Duely noted. What about you? How has things been with the firefighter guy?”

You smile to yourself. Was perfect enough of a descriptor? An absolute dream? No. You sound crazy. Shawn was nice and good but he wasn't quite prince charming. Yet. “It's going really well. We have another date this weekend.”

“I Facebook stalked him, he seems like a real genuine guy. What does he like?”

“He likes books and food. I know he likes working out and he definitely has a soft spot for dogs I think. Every time Mr. Peter's walks his dog by the deli, Shawn stares like he wants to pet him so badly.”

Cait laughs. “If he pets that dog he will lose a hand! Remember when it chased us home from the park one time?”

“Oh my God I forgot about that. Damn that dog is old as hell.”

“Probably a real hellhound if you ask me.”

“Cait! Be nice.”

Cait scoffs. You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Shawn sounds like a good guy. I hope he works out for you, God knows you need it.”

“Are you saying I'm hopeless?”

“Your usual taste in men could be better.”

You roll your eyes as you reach for your next dress in the closet. Too fancy for the beach. Jeans and a tee were looking to be the best option right now.

“Are you still planning on coming to the hospital with me?” Cait asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Of course. Mike knows when I get the text from you that I need to go.”

“Awesome. I can't wait to see you. I'm gonna hang up now though, I have to pee and I think I need a snack. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too sis. Bye.”

_________________

It's just before midnight when you wake up to the smell of smoke. It's all too familiar and strikes a deep fear into you immediately. You jump out of bed and look around, there is no smoke in the house. For a split second you think it must be a nightmare, your brain playing tricks on you. Wouldn't be the first time.

You circle your house, taking a walk from your bedroom to the living room and ending in the kitchen. That's when you smell it again. The unmistakable smell of burning. It's coming from the open window in the kitchen. You turn and look to the front door, sure enough there are lights flashing, blurry from your curtains. The sound of sirens suddenly blaring in your ears.

You grab your robe and pull it on, heading for the front door to see what is on fire and where. The moment you step outside it's apparent where the smoke is coming from. One house down in your row of houses, there is black clouds billowing from the front window. The other neighbors are all in their front yards too and four of the firefighters are approaching the house.

One of the crew pulls away and starts jogging across the yards toward you. He pulls his helmet off and you see it's Shawn. In seconds he wraps his arms around you, the bulky gear rough against your exposed skin.

“Oh thank God it's not you.” He says desperately as he squeezes you tighter, face in your hair.  

“What's going on? Of course I'm okay.”

“I saw the address and my stomach sank. I thought you were in danger, I thought I was going to lose you.” He pulls back and cups your face with his gloved hands. “But you're okay.”

You hold his arms and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Yes I'm fine. Go do your job.”

Shawn looks back and two of the guys are walking out of the house carrying fire extinguishers. The owner, an elderly lady, is sitting in her lawn chair just shaking her head. “I think they've got it handled.”

You cup Shawn's cheek and he looks back to you. “Go. I'm fine.”

“Yeah...you're right. You're sure though? Are you feeling okay? I know the fire probably stresses you out.”

“I'm fine. The panic has passed. As much as I'd love to keep you as my emotional support firefighter, I'm sure Jeremy probably wants you with them.”

Shawn chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Tell your neighbors not to scare me half to death again. I dunno if my heart can take it.”

“I'll be sure to do that. Go on,” you shoo him away and he walks backwards, hand in yours until your arm is stretched out to just your fingertips touching.

“Good night,” Shawn says and you let your fingertips slip from his glove.

“Good night Shawn.” You grin and wrap your robe tight around yourself as you head inside to get some sleep.

________________

“Order up!” Mariel yells, passing you a sandwich to ring up.

You punch in the cost and turn to grab a bag of chips from the rack behind you. Your phone buzzes on the shelf under the counter and you spare a glance, obviously too busy to pick it up. It was probably just a telemarketer anyway. Or maybe Shawn making plans since your date the weekend before was amazing. You had taken him for sushi in Ashland and he loved it.

“Alright, that's ten dollars. Would like to add any extras today? A cookie or a drink?” you ask and the customer shakes his head and slides his card.

Your phone buzzes again and this time Mariel steps in and says you should answer it. You grab it and walk over to the side counter. The screen shows an unknown number and you roll your eyes before clicking answer. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God, it's Adam. I'm at the hospital with Cait. Something happened and I can't explain. She's okay but we need you here. She is freaking out.”

“Adam what happened? Is she in labor? What's going on?” You ask frantically, already pulling your apron off as you head for the front door. You glance back at Mariel and she just waves you off. “Adam, what is going on?”

“Cait fell, I don't know how. She called she was taken in an ambulance. They said she is okay but they're doing an ultrasound now. I have to hurry up, I'm using a pay phone outside and I'm out of change. We're at Berkin Ho-” The phone cuts off and the line beeps.

Your stomach churns. You have no idea how you're going to get to Berkin hospital. It's over half an hour drive and you're not really up for trying to find a car and drive there. You pull up the cab services number and as you hit dial, you see Shawn walk out of the firehouse and unlock his truck.

“Shawn,” you mutter desperately. You jog across the street and he looks up with a smile when he sees you. “Shawn, can you take me to Berkin Hospital? Please I'll give you anything you want, I'll owe you a thousand muffins. Please.”

“Whoa hey are you okay?” He asks, circling the front of the truck to hold your arms, eyes scanning you for injury. “What happened?”

“It's not me. It's my sister. She's pregnant...she fell or something I don't know,” you're sobbing, body shaking like a leaf. “Her husband called from a pay phone and he sounded scared and he said Cait is freaking out.”

Shawn pulls you into a quick hug. “Let's go, you need to be there.”

________________

By the time you get to the hospital Cait has just been taken in for a C-section. Adam is in the hall beyond the emergency waiting area and he comes out to explain what happened. He says that Cait said she was going to the kitchen for water when Boo, their cat, got under her feet and she fell backwards onto her butt. Her water broke and she called emergency services, and then him in the ambulance. The doctor recommended a C-section because he is afraid of something having happened in the fall, the baby getting jarred a little harshly, and he doesn't want to wait until Cait is fully dilated in the event there is injury. Cait agreed and decided to have a C-section now, but they're in prep and waiting for her doctor to show up.

You turn to Shawn as Adam walks back through the door to the emergency wing, intending for you to follow him. “You can go home. I'm okay, thanks for bringing me.”

“Can I stay? I really don't have anything going on at home and you look like you could use some company.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Come on.” You lead Shawn through the doors and into the small room where Adam is sitting. “Hey, Adam. Do you mind if Shawn stays?”

Adam looks up from his phone. His eyes are red, he's been crying and you can just now see it in the bright lights of the sterile room. “No, that's fine. He's your boyfriend right? Cait told me you were seeing someone.”

“Ah, yeah. He's my,” you glance over to Shawn and he's trying to hide a smile but failing. “He's my friend. We've gone out a few times. It's whatever.”

Adam looks between the two of you with a half smile. “Me and Cait were just friends too.”

“Shut up,” you murmur, shoving Adam. “Hey, I thought your phone was dead.”

Adam holds it up on a bright purple cord that attached to a wall charger. “One of the nurses got a cord from a lady up in the ICU for me.”

“Oh, that's good.” You look around the small room and lean against the wall awkwardly. There was only one guest chair and Adam was sitting in it.

Shawn picks up on the situation and clears his throat. “Anyone want some food? I can swing by the cafeteria while we wait.”

“No thanks man. I'm not hungry, too nervous,” Adam says and turns back to his phone.

You nod, knowing Shawn probably hasn't eaten in a while. “Yeah, I should eat something. I don't feel like it really but I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Shawn puts his arm around you and leads you into the hall. “I know my way around here pretty well, and I have a discount at the cafeteria.”

“Yeah? Work brings you here?”

“Not always,” Shawn chuckles. “Not always.”

________________

Shawn tells you to get whatever you want as he stands in line at the hot bar. You look around at the selection on the soup and salad bar and decide to just get a small salad and crackers. You meet up with Shawn at the register and he has a tray loaded with food. He shows some sort of ID badge and the cashier scans it before he pays.

“So firefighters get a discount here?” You ask as you dress your salad. “Or are you just special?”

Shawn chuckles. “All emergency service personnel gets a discount here. But I am special too.”

You roll your eyes. “Special huh?”

“Yeah, I was admitted here as a kid. I spent like three weeks in the ICU while they figured out what was wrong with me. Turned out my appendix had attached itself to my muscle tissue and was inflamed to nearly ten times it's size.”

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Shawn chuckles over a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Yeah of course. The appendix is pointless anyway, but it was hell for the doctors to get it off the muscle wall without it bursting. I've got a scar now but it's not too bad.”

“Damn. You're lucky then I guess.”

“Very lucky. Wanna see the scar?” Shawn stands up and tugs his shirt up for you to see. It's pale pink, about the length of your index finger and right along the V of his hip to his lower stomach. “It's faded a lot now.”

“That's big. Did they take any of the muscle with it?”

Shawn plops back down and sticks some fries in his mouth, shaking his head. “Nah. The doctor was really good. But anyway, how about you? Any crazy medical stories?”

“No,” you laugh softly. “I was a healthy non reckless kid.”

“That's no fun. No broken bones? Toys stuck where they shouldn't be?”

“No, oh my God. My dad kept an eye on me and so did Cait.” You push your salad around on the plate, momentarily lost in thought. “Cait is gonna be a good mom.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. I'm glad her and Adam finally got pregnant. They've been trying for ages. She deserves it y'know? After all we've been through, she deserves a happy ending.”

Shawn bumps his water bottle against yours and you look up from where you've spaced out, staring into the depths of your salad bowl. “You deserve it too. Don't forget that.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Yeah I guess so.”

________________

You and Shawn talk a little longer, mostly about family stuff and some crazy childhood stories. Most of his make you wonder how he's even alive still, but you conclude he must just be extremely lucky. Adam texts you and says the doctors are taking Cait to a room to recover and he gives you the floor and room number. You and Shawn wrap up and head for the elevators to get upstairs. Cait would want to see you no doubt.

“So do they know what the gender is yet?” Shawn asks as he leans forward, holding the door open for a nurse who was jogging to catch it.

“Yeah, it's a boy. I just hope they settled on a name.”

“Shawn?” The nurse asks as the doors close softly.

“Uh yeah?” Shawn tilts his head, looking her over as if trying to figure out how she knew his name.

“Darcy, from the emergency responders luncheon two years ago?” The nurse says, grinning.

Shawn shakes his head. “I'm sorry, I don't recall. Did we sit together or...”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

You give Shawn a look and he just kinda deadpans.

“I'm really sorry. I must have been out of it.”

Darcy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah obviously. You'd had a few but I didn't think you were smashed enough to forget me.”

Shawn turns scarlet. His eyes go wide and you have a feeling he remembers exactly who Darcy is now. He remains silent until her floor dings and she gets off, leaving you with Shawn alone in an awkward silence.

“She sounded upset. What was that about?”

“Listen, I was a jerk a few years ago. Brand new firefighter with cockiness to spare. Believe me. I was a douchebag. She probably should have slapped me.”

You let out a low whistle as the doors open on your floor and the two of you step out. “So I should be careful huh?”

“I grew up. I promise.”

“Mmhmm.”

You get to Cait's room and she is overjoyed to see you. The baby is sleeping on her chest, so small and fragile, only five pounds she says. His name is Nathaniel. You introduce Shawn and explain that he brought you to the hospital, and he's the one that you'd told her about on the phone. Cait plays it off like she didn't recognize him immediately from her Facebook creeping. After a while of visiting you get to hold the baby while Cait rests.

Shawn looks like he's going to die when you glance over to where he's sitting in one of the guest chairs. He just stares at you while you're cuddling this little tiny bundle of baby and blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him?” You grin and he looks terrified.

“I don't know. I probably shouldn't.”

You stand and walk over to where Shawn is sitting and you carefully pass Nathaniel to him. He cuddles him against his chest awkwardly, arms huge in comparison. “It's not too hard. See, he fits right in your arm there.”

“He's so small.” Shawn boops the baby's nose. “I always wanted kids one day. But when they're this tiny I'm nervous I'll break them.”

“They're more resilient than you might think.”

Shawn pets back Nathaniel's little bit of sparse dark hair. He looks so soft, so natural holding a baby like this. It makes you smile, and gives you a strange butterfly like feeling in your stomach. Shawn with kids is a little too much for you to dream of but you'd be damned if you weren't.

“You're still here?” Cait asks sleepily from the bed.

“Yeah, Adam is on his way back now. I figured we would stay until he got here.”

As if on cue, Adam walks in with Cait's over night bag. You help Shawn put Nathaniel into his bassinet and give Cait a hug. You say your goodbyes and promise to visit as soon as she's is home and feeling up to visitors. Shawn drives you home, leaving you with a chaste kiss and plans to meet up after work tomorrow evening.

________________

It is just after four in the afternoon a week later and you sit outside the deli waiting for Shawn to get off work. You check your phone, scrolling through social media and chatting with some people who messaged you. Before you know it half an hour has passed and still Shawn hasn't come out of the firehouse. You don't want to seem like that annoying girl but he made plans and wasn't even replying to your texts.

You cross the street and knock on the door. No answer. You try the handle and it's locked. They must be out on a call. You feel kinda bad now, not even thinking about the possibility of him actually working late. You had just gotten used to them not getting called out very much recently.

You decide to walk home, maybe stop by the minimart on the way to grab some snacks. There was no telling when Shawn would be available or if he would even feel like hanging out after a call. It's fine, you would just talk to him tomorrow.

The minimart bell dings and you raise a hand in greeting to Mae, the old woman behind the counter. She greets you with a smile. You grab a few things, a small pint of chocolate ice cream, a Snickers bar and a bag of chips.

“Bad day?” Mae asks, ringing up your purchases.

“No, just wanted a few snacks.” You glance over at her little tv that is showing a newscast from a reporter in a field. There is a massive blaze behind him and he keeps glancing back warily.

“That's sad isn't it?” Mae asks, looking back at the TV. “They said the drivers of both vehicles are dead and the explosion hurt some of the emergency responders trying to get them out.”

Your stomach sinks. Shawn was probably out there. “Oh my God. What happened? Where is it at?”

“Tanker truck hit an SUV I think. It's just off route 45 to Benton I think. Probably a truck coming to fill up the tanks at the Phillips station.”

“I-I have to go.” You leave your items on the counter and take off running for the deli.

The door clatters loudly as you rush in the deli and up to the counter. The few people in the dining area give you worried looks as you lean over the counter.

Mariel comes out of the back area and sees you, her face falling immediately. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“There's an explosion and a crash on 45. I need your keys I need to get there now. Shawn could be there.”

Mariel digs in her apron pocket and hands you her keys. “Be careful.”

Ten agonizing minutes later and you pull Mariel's little blue car over off the side of the highway and leave it in favor of walking the last few hundred feet. The tanker is still on fire, both fire engines are parked off to the side, no hydrants are available for water this far out on the highway. You look around for any of the firefighters, desperate to find out if Shawn is there.

“Ma'am, you can't be here!” An officer yells as you walk past the news crews who are waiting for more details.

You ignore him, your sights set on a group of firemen standing by an ambulance. Your heart is pounding, none of them look tall enough to be Shawn.

Another officer cuts you of, holding up their hand to stop you from getting at closer. “Ma'am you need to go back to your car. No bystanders are allowed near the wreck.”

“I'm not going to the wreck I'm going to the ambulance over there,” you say, pointing to the ambulance that's getting ready to leave.

“No you're not. You need to leave.”

“Sir you don't understand, I need to-”

The officer steps forward as you start to try and pass him. “Ma'am, I'm not going to tell you again. Go back to you vehicle and leave.”

“Jeremy! Ryan!” You shout and the officer says something but you can't hear him. He grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “JEREMY! JEREMY!”

Jeremy turns around and sees you being pulled away by the officer. He comes walking over, calling the officer off as he approaches. “What are you doing here? This is a dangerous situation.”

“Where is Shawn? Is he here? I saw on the news that some people got hurt trying to rescue the drivers.”

“Shawn will be okay. I need you to leave. I'll call you as soon as I can with more information.”

“Oh my God,” you start trembling, stomach churning. “Ohmygod he's in the ambulance isn't he?”

Jeremy puts his hand on your arm and you lean against him. He pulls you into a hug, hand on the back of your head as you let out a heavy sob. “He will be fine. He's strong, he knows the dangers of his job. Please, you need to go home. There is nothing here for you.”

You don't go home. You go to the hospital and wait in the ER lobby for two hours. Two agonizing hours. The receptionist won't tell you anything, she doesn't know anything actually. She says she will let you know when he is allowed visitors. You text Mariel that you have the car and you're at Birkin Hospital. She says she walked home and it's fine that she understands.

You're curled up across two hard seats, half asleep when the receptionist says that Shawn is allowed to have visitors. You grab your purse and push through the automatic doors as they open slowly to the ER rooms. You turn down the hall to room 042 and push the door open and your heart stops.

Shawn is asleep, chest rising and falling softly. He has an oxygen tube in his nose and he's hooked up two a few monitors and an IV drip. He's in a white hospital gown. His face is mostly clean, a few remnants of blood and what looks like mud on his chin. You just stare, tears burning your eyes and spilling over your cheeks. You take a shaky step forward and grab a couple paper towels and wet them in the small wash sink to the right of his bed.

“Jesus Christ what were they doing for two hours?” You wipe at his face, clearing off a smudge of blood from his cheek. It's then you notice his arm is in a white plaster cast and there is tape and gauze sticking out from under the collar of his gown.

The door opens and a nurse walks in. “Oh, hello. I'm Shona. I'm the nurse on rounds for tonight.”

You introduce yourself, lying that you're his fiance just in case she doesn't release any information to you.  You watch as she administers a syringe of something into his IV drip. “What is that?”

“Morphine. He's going to be hurting when he wakes up.”

“What happened? I mean, what took two hours? I know what happened, like the accident.”

Shona grabs a chart on the wall beside the bed and flips it up. “Fractured arm, multiple lacerations to the chest and stomach. Bruised ribs.” She scans down the chart. “Looks like he was on oxygen and being monitored for smoke inhalation and potential internal bleeding for a few hours. The bleeding was negative. That's what took so long it seems.”

“Jesus Christ Shawn.” You ball the paper towel up in your hand and take a seat in the guest chair.

“If you need anything or if he wakes up, let me know. Just press the nurse button and I'll come see how he's doing.”

You nod and Shona leaves the room. You don't care how long it is, you're going to stay until he wakes up.

Jeremy shows up a little while later. He talks to the nurse, getting a run down of Shawn's condition. The two of you talk briefly and and says to text him when Shawn wakes up. Let him know if he wants visitors or if he's going to be admitted. You promise that you'll keep him updated.

________________

“What're you doing here?”

You sit up from where you've passed out across the two hard plastic chairs. It's almost midnight according to the clock on the wall. On the bed Shawn is sitting up right, well, propped more upright with the help of the bed.

“You're awake!”

“Yeah. I just woke up, what happened? Why are you here?”

You stand and go over to the side of the bed. He grabs your hand and holds it in his. “I'm not entirely sure what happened. I think the tanker exploded and you must have been knocked back? You're pretty beat up.”

“Fuck.” Shawn closes his eyes and licks his lip. “I knew I shouldn't have gone into try and help the truck driver. He was already fucking gone.”

“Shawn, it's okay. You were doing your job.”

“I was being an idiot. I know better than to try and go into a situation like that. I could have died.”

You lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you. “You didn't die. You're fine, a little rough, but you're fine. Stop beating yourself up.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, eyes tearing up. “You should be at home, sleeping and angry I stood you up. Why are you sitting in a crappy ER room with me?”  

“I'm here because I saw the news and I just knew something had happened. I don't know how, but I knew you were hurt and I had to get to you.” You wipe a tear away with your thumb. “I’ve been here since they brought you in. Jeremy came by but he didn't want to hang out too long. I gotta let him know you're awake.”

“How did you know they brought me here?”

“I followed the ambulance. Shawn, I drove to the accident because I was freaking out. I almost got arrested for resisting an officer just to get closer to find out where you were.”

Shawn's eyes widen. “You are the craziest woman I know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“God I love you.”

“Shawn, you better just stop talking. It sounds like the morphine is making you a little loopy.” You grab the bed remote and press the nurse button. You pull your hand from Shawn's and he pouts, eyeing you from across the room as Shona comes in and starts taking vitals and asking how he feels.

You excuse yourself to the hall so you can call Jeremy. Really it's because Shawn's words just gave you a heart attack and you're pretty sure if he kept talking you'd go into cardiac arrest.

________________

Six hours later and Shawn is released. Jeremy had stopped by with a change of clothes for him from the firehouse. You had tried to get him to call his parents, to let them know what happened, but he said he wasn't ready. The doctor said he shouldn't be left alone, that it would be best if you or someone stayed with him over night just in case but all his vitals were normal and other than bruising and the broken arm, he was in amazing condition. He was lucky.

The drive home is quiet. You swing by the 24 hour pharmacy on the way out of town to get the pain medication that the doctor prescribed. Shawn waits in the car. You grab some snacks and a couple of reusable hot/cold compresses. You're sure he will need them.

You help Shawn into the house and he insists on sleeping on the couch but you know that is not what he needs. You don't mind taking the couch for a few days or even weeks. However long Shawn needed to stay with you was okay. It takes a lot of convincing but he eventually agrees to sleep in your bed propped up.  

“You don't have to do this,” he says for the dozenth time since you left the hospital. “I'll be alright.”

“Shawn, I'm not going to leave you at your place alone. The doctor said to monitor you and that's what I'm going to do.”

He's quiet, just like every time he tried to get you to leave him before. You don't know what he's getting at by telling you the same thing. You're also not sure, but it could be a side effect of the pain medicines making him a little loopy and forgetful. “You're amazing.”

You fluff a blanket out across his lap and shake your head. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would. A thousand times over I would.”

You lean forward to grab a pillow and he grabs your hand, stopping you halfway. You look down at his scraped up knuckles against your soft skin. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes finding yours. “I’m sorry I scared you and put you through this.”

You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “You we're doing your job. I know what dangers come with being a fireman. I know what I signed up for.”

Shawn cracks a soft smile. His tired face looking far more gorgeous than it should right now. “You say that like we're a couple.” His eyes are glassy and you want to discuss relationships and feelings right now but somehow you know it's not going to do any good. His medicine was knocking him out and he was getting loose lipped. You don't feel right talking about something serious while he basically has no inhibitions.

“Get some rest,” you say, pulling your hand from his and cupping his cheek. “I'll be in the living room and you can just holler if you need anything.”

“Yes ma'am.” He hums and leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. You move around the room quietly, picking up a few things before leaving him be and by the time you finish he is passed out, soft snores filling the room. You give him one last look from the doorway and sigh softly. You were definitely gone for him and you don't mind one bit.

________________

The next few days Shawn's spends mostly in bed. He doesn't go out, just hangs out at your house while you go to work. The guys from the fire station stop by the deli and ask about him, you tell them he's doing alright. Which he is. He just seems a little shaken up still, like it's really hitting him that he could have died. Jeremy brought you his keys and spare clothes from the station to take home with you so he would have some things to wear.

It's Wednesday and you wake up stiff from sleeping on the couch again. It's your day off and you plan on trying to get Shawn to go visit the guys at the station. You sit up and Shawn is standing in the kitchen trying to break eggs into a bowl with one hand. He's getting visibly annoyed and you climb off the couch to go help.

“Shawn, let me do it,” you say softly as you approach him and see three shattered eggs in a bowl.

He sighs heavily, stepping aside to let you take over. “I hate this.”

“I know.” You fold the carton closed and turn the stove off. “We're going to go out for breakfast. You've been cooped up here for days, it's time to go out.”

Shawn grumbles. “I don't want to go out.”

“Too bad. You're becoming a grumpy old man. And you owe me a date.”

“I do,” he sighs softly. “Okay, you got me. I'll get dressed.”

Half an hour later and you are walking together along the beach and you're feeding him bites of a muffin. The two of you opted to get some blueberry muffins and coffee from the cafe to go.

“I'm really sorry,” he says as you head for the underside of the pier that was attached to the deck of the crab shack

“For what?”

“For putting you through this kind of stress. I was reckless and I got myself hurt.”

You finish off the bit of muffin in your hand and shake your head at him. “I mean, I know what risks a firefighter has to take. I know you're going to get hurt. I don't like it, and yeah, you were reckless and you could have died. But you didn't.”

“I don't even have anything to show for it. I didn't save the truck driver.”

“Hey,” you grab his hand and he threads his fingers through yours. “You have your life to show for it. I'm not angry at you, I'm not even disappointed. I'm glad you're alive and barely hurt.”

Shawn drops your hand and sits down in the sand. You sit beside him and the water washes up over your toes. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because I like you. You're an amazing guy and you're sweet. You're everything I've ever dreamed of in a guy. How could I not care?”

He shrugs. “I guess I've never felt that sort of thing from anyone I've dated. We hit it off so fast, I was actually really nervous I was going to fuck everything up.”

“Well you didn't.” You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder. “You actually did quite the opposite.”

“I did everything right?”

You nod.

He grabs your hand and plays with it. His knuckles are scrapped up, red and a little bruised. He measures your hand against his, palms together before bringing it up to kiss softly.

“Can I ask you something really cheesy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laugh softly. Before you met him, you probably would have said no. But there was something about Shawn that changed everything for you. Something that made you feel like you couldn't get enough of him. Something that made you wanna go all in and not stop.

“I think I do.”

________________

Six months later

“Hey hot stuff,” Shawn purrs, hands on your waist pulling you back against him. “Is this my shirt?”

You let out a squeal and drop the spatula you are using to stir your scrambled eggs. “Yes it is. What are you doing scaring me like that?” You laugh, leaning your head back against him.

“Notice anything different?” He wiggles his fingers against your sides. You don't feel the familiar hard edge of his cast pushing against your skin.

“Your cast is gone!”

He turns you around and holds his hands up. The blue plaster cast is totally gone. You put your hand in his and he squeezes gently. “It's going to be weak for a while, but I have stretches and stuff to do to build the strength back up. The doc said my bones looks good and the muscles should bounce back in no time since I did the exercising with my fingers with the cast on.”

“I'm so happy. You'll be able to do more than just in house work at the station. I know between that and hanging around here you were getting a little stir crazy.”

Shawn grabs your hips and lifts you up on the counter top so you're just a hair taller than him. He steps between your legs and bumps his nose against yours. “The only thing that makes me crazy is you.”

“Mmm,” you lean in for a kiss and he kisses you slow and drawn out for just a lingering moment. “This is very sexy and all, but you probably shouldn't be lifting me quite yet.” You lay your hand over his forearm and he makes a noise of protest as he bumps his nose against yours for another kiss. “I'm serious Shawn.”

“I know.” He pulls back, looking at you softly. “I got excited. I haven't been able to do what I want for a while.” He grips the swells of your hips and grins. “Couldn’t hold you like I wanted to.”

“Shawn,” you flush and he gives you bedroom eyes. “Later.” You reach over and pull your pan off the burner so your eggs don't over cook any more.

Shawn looks over and steps back so you can get down and finish making your breakfast. “I'm just saying, my station tee would look really good on the floor of the bedroom right now.”

You turn and point your spatula at him. “And I'm just saying, it sounds like you need to take a cold shower and calm that fire in your pants, hot stuff.”

Shawn just groans and turns away, going to the bathroom. You hear the shower come on and you just laugh, sitting down to eat your breakfast.

________________

“Are you still interested in the old antique shop next to the deli?” Shawn asks one day over lunch. You're sat together in the station dining room while the other guys nap in the bunks upstairs.

“Yeah, but I'm a little over a thousand dollars short. I might take out a loan or something. I really want to open the bakery. I'm so close but it's still so far.”

Shawn twirls a stir stick between his fingers. “I uh...I have a couple grand in my savings.”

“No.”

“Honey, I'd be an investor. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to come back to firefighting full time with my arm the way it is. I've got permanent screws in it. If I can make your dream come true, and possibly be a part of it, then that's everything I could ever want.”

You lay your hand over the scars on the back of his forearm and sigh softly. “You're making great progress. The doctor said the screws shouldn't stop you from doing your job.”

Shawn sighs. “It's just...what if I get hurt again? What if it's worse?”

“Shawn.” You turn his face up to look at you across the table. “Why did you take this job? Remember what you told me when I asked why you became a firefighter?”

“Because I wanted to help people.”

“That's right. And you're going to do that. You're going to save so many lives Shawn. I know you're anxious about returning to the job completely, but don't get into the mindset that it's not going to work. You can do anything.”

“You're right. I can. So I'm going to be a firefighter and I'm also going to be an investor in your bakery.”

You shake your head as you let out a laugh. “Shawn, no! I can get a loan.”

“Listen,” he covers your hands with his and lifts them up. “I always wanted to help people, that was my dream, and I'm doing something I love no matter how anxious I am about returning to it. You want to bake, you deserve to have your dreams come true as well. Let me be part of it, please?” He kisses your fingers gently.

“Fine. Just the thousand, I'll pick up the rest. It'll be enough to get the lease on the shop, supplies and pay the first two months utilities. I have all of dad's equipment in storage so we just have to install everything.”

Shawn grins big. “I know a couple of strong guys who would love to help out in exchange for some baked goods.” You giggle and he leans over the table to kiss you.

__________________

“The place is all set up with fairly new electrical and plumbing, everything is up to code for a food business or retail. What was it you wanted to put in here?” The realtor asks as she walks you and Shawn around the empty shop.

“A bakery.” You stand by a counter that could use some love but would work for the time being.

“Oh! Well the building was actually a bakery at one time so the outlets should definitely be up to code for food equipment.”

You turn and look at the realtor. Her name is Peggy. “I know. It was my dad's place.”

“Wow! Really? That's amazing. Does the landowner know that?”

“I'm not sure. Why?”

“Well, sometimes people are sentimental to family businesses. I can talk to him if you like, it's worth a shot.” Peggy lays down her folder on the counter. “I'll leave you with some of the information on the building. I'm sure you probably know most of it, but take a look at it and get back to me with an offer and I'll contact the owner.”

Shawn walks over from the windows and puts his arm around your waist. “Why didn't you tell me this  was your dad's place? This is going to be amazing.”

“I know, I can't wait,” you beam, taking the folder off the counter and following Peggy out of the building.

_______________

You walk in the doors of the firehouse and the place is loud and bustling. The garage and living area have been turned into a party room. It's the annual fill the boot fundraiser, where the firefighters raise money to fill one of the boots from their gear to donate to a charity. It's an adult only event that goes over quite well with the town's residents. There is food, drinks, games and even a little something special. Every year a couple of the guys volunteer to play a game where they dress up in all of their gear and attendees pay set amounts for certain pieces of clothing and gear to come off. All proceeds from the game, food, and drinks  go to “fill the boot” for the years charity. This is only your second year attending and Shawn said you had to come, that he'd be devastated if you didn't.

You're a little late, having worked an extra hour at the deli to help deep clean behind the counter. You had already promised you would or else you wouldn't have stayed. There is loud music, some catchy country band blaring over the speakers in the garage. Everyone is chatting and having a good time. You don't see Shawn right away, eyes scanning for the hard to miss giant.

“Grab a table, I'm gonna get drinks!” Mariel shouts from beside you over the music.

You no sooner get sat down then the DJ for the evening is announcing that they're going to have their next firefighter come out for the clothing bidding and that the goal is three hundred dollars. It's a steep amount, usually the guys go for a hundred or so.

“Again, that goal is three hundred dollars! And as always no touching the firefighters unless they allow it. Keep your hands in your pockets and your cash ready to donate!”

Shawn walks out of the office in his gear and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. No wonder they were looking to raise so much. Shawn was the youngest on staff and by far the most attractive. Of course you're biased, but you see the way people stare at him when you go out. Honestly you can't blame them, but he is all yours.

Mariel sits next to you and slides you a Coke. “Is that your man?”

“Yes.” You lean back, folding your arms in amusement. You can't wait to see how fast his clothes come off.

The DJ starts the bidding with his helmet at twenty dollars. Usually it's a ten dollar item but not with this hot commodity. The helmet is gone instantly, a lady you recognize from the grocery store hands over a bill for it. Gloves fly off at twenty. Boots at thirty take a minute but someone takes one for the team to get the ball rolling. His jacket is next and you just chuckle at the crowd already getting excited.

Shawn looks to you and you just shake your head. He walks into the tables toward you and starts unbuttoning his jacket, opening it and cheering people on to donate the forty dollars to take it off. He winks at you, biting his lip. There is a taker as soon as he leans against the table of a group of college girls across from you.

The pants are next, it's just the fireproof ones but the way Shawn undoes them you'd think he was taking off his jeans already. People are getting rowdy, young ladies reaching for him. The pants donation goes fast. He returns to the front area where the DJ is calling out the next article of clothing. He is barefooted, standing up there in his blue jeans and tee shirt. Of course he has on one of his station shirts that is tight and shows off his body. The jerk. He was loving this.

Mariel lets out a whistle as the DJ calls for his shirt donation. A whopping fifty dollars. You roll your eyes and he grabs the edges, ready to pull off. A guy walks up and drops the donation into the DJ's hand. Shawn pulls the tee up and over, revealing a tank top underneath.

“Are you sure he's wasn't a stripper?” Mariel laughs.

“Nah, he's just cocky. He knows all these people want him.”

“He's just showing off for you.”

“Probably.”

The DJ announces his undershirt for fifty dollars. There's a hesitation in the crowd. It's a lot, and it's one of the top two with the best result physically. “Fifty dollars, for the elementary school to get new play equipment! Come on up, you know you want to see this hot piece of man take his shirt off. It's the best part of the evening- We got a taker!”

Mariel stands up and walks across the room with her money. “Take it off Mendes!”

Shawn throws his head back and laughs. He pulls the tank top off and the room goes apeshit. He crosses the room and hands his tank top to you and Mariel. “Too bad babe, you should have bid on my shirt. I'd have brought it to you too.”

“But I'm going to get it tonight anyway.”

Shawn leans forward and grins. “Yes you will.”

Up next is his pants and that's the last fifty dollars. It takes no time, the DJ doesn't even finish announcing it before three of the college girls come up, the money between them. Sure enough, Shawn undoes his button, zips them down and shucks them. He stands there in his dark red boxers while everyone cheers.

“That is it! Three hundred dollars and you Mr. Mendes are free to get dressed!”

“How much for the boxers?!” Someone yells and Shawn flushes. You laugh.

Shawn goes to the booth and says something inaudible. The DJ leans over to talk to Jeremy who's handling the donation totals.

“Four hundred dollars?” The DJ says quietly, but loud enough everyone can still hear on the speaker. The three men talk quietly for a moment and then Shawn steps back, walking with a smirk to the middle of the front area.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Shawn grins, hands on his hips. “For the remaining amount that we need to raise. For four hundred dollars, yes, four big ones, I will take off my boxers right here and right now.”

Your eyes go wide and you stand up. Shawn looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You shake your head as he silently dares you to stop him.

“Do you take credit cards?” Someone yells jokingly.

Shawn saunters out into the crowd and glides his thumbs along his waistband. “No cards, only cold hard cash.”

You leave your seat and walk around to meet him. You lay your hand on his chest and walk him right back up to the front, eyes locked on his the whole time. He knew how to get you riled up. That was for sure.

“No touching ma'am!” The DJ calls out

Shawn raises his arm and waves him off, allowing it for you.

“You want me to donate it don't you?”

“I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.” He leans in and whispers, “It's working.”

“Do we have a donation?” The DJ asks and you look over to him. To the right you can see a table of people getting their money together. It's about to happen.

“You got your rise.” You glance down at his stomach and he chuckles.

“I did. Grab my wallet out of my jeans. There's a couple hundred in there for tonight.”

You step past him, grab his jeans and fish his wallet out. You march to the DJ booth and hand over the money.

“Ladies and gentlemen we have hit our goal!”

Shawn grabs the mic from the DJ and grins, “If you guys don't mind, I think I'll take my boxers off in front of the lady here in private.”

There's a sigh of disappointment from the crowd.

“Now now, I think she earned it since she is the sole donor.” He looks over at you and you roll your eyes. “And my beautiful girlfriend.”

An awe from the crowd erupts and they cheer as you help Shawn gather up his gear and clothes to take back into the office. The two of you squeeze into the tiny room and Shawn just laughs.

“You're such a little shit,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “What if I didn't step up?”

“Then I guess I'd be flashing a room of people right now.”

You cross your arms and he steps close, hands on your hips.

“Honey, I'm teasing. I would have made the donation myself. You know I'm yours, I'm not going to show the goods off to the public.”

“There were enough eyes on you tonight. Thank God they can't touch you.”

“Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. “I'm yours and you're mine remember? It's just for fun.”

“You're right,” you sigh and close your eyes. “I'm jealous over nothing. I'm sorry.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. “I forgive you. Now, you wanna see my dick?” he laughs.

“Not unless you're putting it to good use.” You smirk and he raises his eyebrows.

He growls and pulls your hips against his and gives you that look that could make you do just about anything. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

________________

Three months later

The grand opening if Hot Stuff Bakery is easily one of the best days of your life. The owner of the building accepted your offer after the realtor told him your history with it. You ended up getting it for quite a bit less than you planned so you actually had a little left over to do some extra renovation to the front end.

You and your friends and family are all standing around talking, everyone is enjoying your dipping bread and muffins. The whole town has come out to see your shop and reminisce on the days when your dad owned the place. Many say it has the same charm and for that you couldn't be more proud.

“Hey,” Shawn comes around with a little white to go box in his hand. “I made you something.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, grabbing his box and opening it to find a little white frosted cupcake. It's a perfect spiral, just how you'd showed him.

“I made it at home while you were here last night. I even made a strawberry filling. But there is another surprise in there too.”

You raise your eyebrows. Mr. Fancy over here was really trying to win your heart. As if he didn't already have it. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

You go over to the refrigerator case and pull out a chocolate iced cupcake. “Well, see the funny thing is, I also made you a special cupcake.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes.” You laugh as you set it down in front of him. “I'm appalled you stole my idea.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and smiles. “I guess we’re like meant to be together or something.”

“Yep. Now, rock paper scissors to see who gets surprised first?” You hold your fist up over your hand and he does the same. Three quick rounds and he emerges the victor. “Ugh! I don't wanna go first.”

“Too bad.” Shawn places the cupcake in your hand.

You dig your thumbs into the side of it. “I gotta see this filling.” You look up at him and he's just grinning. You pull the soft cake apart and out oozes some very delicious looking strawberry jam but also something hard. You pick it out of the sticky filling and realize exactly what it is. A wedding ring.

“Will you marry me?” Shawn asks taking the ring and wiping it on his jeans.

Your jaw drops. You turn and grab his cupcake. “I think your answer is in here.”

Shawn frowns, confused about your reaction. He takes the cake and opens it like you had. There is no filling in his, and a little tiny toy baby falls out onto the counter. “I... don't understand. How is this my answer?”

“What is it?”

“A toy baby? I don't get it, am I supposed to-” His eyes  widen and you can literally see his brain working. “You're pregnant?!”

“Two months!” You blurt out and everyone looks at the two of you.

Shawn drops down, hands shaking on your waist. He presses his forehead against your stomach and lets out a little cry of joy and kisses you. He stands back up, hands all over your sides and stomach. “I'm going to be a dad... I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to get married!”

Ryan and Jeremy start the congratulations, clapping loudly and everyone joins in. “You always said you were gonna marry her one day!” Jeremy laughs and you look over and back to Shawn.

“You really said that to them?” you laugh and he wraps his arms around you and spins you around.

“I did. The first day I met you in the deli, I knew I had to marry you someday.” He sets you down and cups your face. “I can't wait to be your husband, and a dad.”

“Me neither.” You grin and he bumps his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too. To the moon and back.”

You close your eyes and smile. “To the moon and back.”

End

______________________________________

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me everything you thought, felt, or things you wanna know! I appreciate every ask and reblog I receive. Please please please leave feedback via ask, reply, message or reblog! 

Thank you again. Without amazing readers I’d never have kept writing. 

-A

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Twenty-Two: Out to Dinner ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ] [ This piece is a sequel to Day Seventeen ]

To say that their meeting was awkward was...a bit of an understatement.

For months, both Sasuke and Hinata have lived under a rather unusual assumption: that they were each the last person left on earth. One morning they’d woken, made to address their family...only to find their homes empty. Their neighborhoods...empty.

The entire city - and presumably the rest of the world - completely and utterly empty.

And yet strange phenomena seemed to keep life running as normal. Electricity never wavered. Food in stores didn’t rot. To both, it felt like being trapped in a strange gap in time. A limbo they had been dropped into with no context, no warning.

But then, while each looking to plunder a local grocery store...they’d finally managed to cross paths, each completely taken aback at the knowledge that they were no longer alone.

That didn’t make it any easier to accept, however, the meeting standoffish and each seemingly wary and suspicious. But they’d exchanged numbers, agreeing to - should the need arise - communicate with one another.

And after a week...neither has dared bridge that gap.

Sasuke, for his part, has actually adapted to the loneliness rather well. At first he mourned his missing family deeply. While theirs had been far from perfect, having them suddenly vanish left him more hollow than he could ever describe. But after an intense two weeks that nearly saw him deciding to try and join them...he’d instead become resolute. So...he was left alone to survive on his own, was he? Then he’d do it...and do it well.

And for months he’d done just that. Managed his food supply, ensured the care and defense of his home (even if there was, assumably, no one to seek to harm it...one could never be too careful), and kept himself guarded and ready for anything.

...well, almost anything.

He’d mostly been simply scouting out parts of his city he didn’t know well, taking several large bags with him to grab whatever looked useful. He had closer places to find food. But he was there, and it was ripe for the taking.

Or so he thought.

Seeing the girl, Hinata, had startled him in a way he had in no way expected. So...he wasn’t the last. Maybe they weren’t, either. Perhaps there are more somewhere, just waiting to be found.

But Sasuke had already decided he was fine not knowing. Hinata was a surprise, and a pleasant one. But that didn’t inspire some inclination to go looking for others. He had his domain and his necessities. He was fine as he was, thank you very much.

...and yet…

Every time he checks his phone, seeing her contact information...he debates sending some kind of message. What would he even say…? They’re complete strangers. He knows nothing about her, let alone something to talk about.

And yet...he wants to. Not because he’s lonely, he assures himself. But just because he’s curious. And it’s something new. Something to break up the monotony.

So after a week of deliberation, he sends his first text.

You there?

Casual enough, right? And he manages to put the mobile aside rather than wait for an answer...which comes seven minutes later.

Sorry, was in my garden! Do you need something?

Well, no. He doesn’t need anything. Nope. Just checking in. Kinda weird, tbh.

A minute passes. Yes, I know what you mean. Odd to talk to someone after so long.

...he reaches an impasse. Now what…? How is your garden?

Good! It’s just flowers. I wanted to grow something edible, but...ran out of time. Maybe next year, if...you know.

Ah yes. Winter. The thing both of them have been dreading, wondering if any problems yet to surface may in fact rear their ugly heads. I bet you’ll get around to it. I dunno anything about plants, so...don’t ask me.

They’re not that hard to learn about. I could teach you, if you wanted?

That earns a blink. Sure.

...another awkward silence.

Can I ask you a really random question?

Sure?

Okay. Just act cool. Do you want to like...meet up or something? I dunno, just seems like maybe we should at least get to know the basics about each other, all things considered. Right?

To his worry, she doesn’t respond for several agonizing minutes. Did he ask too quickly? Is something wrong?

Yeah! Sorry, there’s some loose animals in my neighborhood and one of the dogs keeps coming into my yard and digging in the flowerbeds...

Sasuke blinks. Maybe you need a fence.

Ha, maybe.

I could help you build one. I helped my dad build ours a few years ago. I kinda know how it works.

...you would?

Sure. Not much else to do, right?

There’s a brief silence as she seems to mull that over. ...okay! I’ll make you some dinner to pay you back, okay?

You don’t have to do that.

No, but I want to. It’s only fair.

Well, seems there’s no changing her mind. All right. When would you wanna start?

Doesn’t matter to me! Like you say...what else is there to do?

Nodding to himself, Sasuke replies, How about tomorrow? I know where a hardware store is, and I have my dad’s pickup. I’ll get the stuff today and head over then.

Okay! I’m...kind of excited!

All right, see you then.

...okay. He’ll admit it. He’s a little excited. Mostly because this is his first real social interaction in months. So off to the store he heads, asking Hinata for details of what she wants.

It’s not like price is an issue. Mostly just effort. And Sasuke’s got plenty of that to spare.

She decides on a privacy board fence, just to make sure the animals keep out. And he even picks up white paint and brushes for them to make it match her house. By the time tomorrow rolls around, he’s more than prepared. Boards, posts, nails, hammers, paint...he’s got it all.

They get started early in the morning, Sasuke showing her the basics and letting her help...until she smashes her thumb with a hammer. She’s then directed to painting duty, covering up the boards as he gets them tacked up.

A few breaks are taken to drink lemonade she took to making before he got there, as well as lunch. But it’s dinner she promises will be what helps make up for all his hard work.

By early evening, they’ve actually gotten it all up. Hinata insists she can finish the painting herself the next day. “For now, it’s time for dinner!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” In truth? He’s starving. Been a while since he’s worked that hard, but it was nice.

Inside, Hinata’s gone all out. An entire ham is taken out of the oven alongside potatoes, salad, and a cherry pie.

“...I think you went a little overboard,” Sasuke observes, perking a brow as she blushes pink.

“I just...w-wanted it to be worth all you did today. I still don’t think it’s enough, really…”

“It’s fine. Like I said, it was something to do. If anything, I should be thanking you.”

The pair stand at an impasse before Hinata relents with a giggle. “Okay, okay...we’ll just call it even.”

Hinata, as it turns out, is a really good cook. Before Sasuke realizes it, he’s overeaten, having had two full plates of everything and feeling miserable.

“No room for pie?” she teases.

“Ugh, no…”

“Well, you can just t-take some home, then. Have it for breakfast tomorrow!”

He just nods, knowing he can’t tell her no. But he does help tidy up and put things away. “Think I might have to help you build fence more often if I get to eat like that.”

She flashes pink again, clearly pleased. “Y-you can come over any time! I guess just, um...give me a little warning.”

“Sure. Let me know if you need help with anything else.”

“I will! Thank you again.”

“Back at you.”

...an awkward silence blooms between them.

“Well, I...guess I’ll say goodnight…?” Hinata offers, sounding more like a question.

“Yeah. Have a nice night, Hinata.”

“You too, Sasuke. Drive home safe.”

“Not like there’s much traffic to worry about,” he counters with a grin.

“Still -!”

“I will, don’t worry.” Giving a wave, he returns to his father’s truck and revs the engine, headlights flicked on. The drive is quiet, and by the time he gets back to his house, the silence - after such a full day - is almost suffocating.

He stares up at the house he’s grown up in, seeing how dark all the windows are. How quiet it is. So, just to ward off the feeling, he shoots Hinata a quick text to let her know he made it back without incident.

Glad to hear it! Goodnight.

Night.

Considering his phone for a moment, he can’t help but wonder when would be long enough to wait to see if he can head back. Was kinda nice to go ‘out’ to dinner. He’s not much of a cook, himself. Enough to get by, but nothing like what they had.

He’ll just have to wait and see.

     I swear I tried to get this done last night but oof, my brain was not cooperating OTL I had a rather stressful day, BUT things are looking better today! So I’m gonna try to get at least one more drabble done today, if not more, cuz I am...very behind. I’ve just had a lot going on irl that makes sitting and writing difficult.      ANYWAY! This is more of the very random “last people on earth” verse I started with day 17. Our two stranded strangers are starting to become friends, seems like! No idea if I’ll do more of this for the rest of the challenge, but it’s a neat idea to explore. I just...don’t have much in way of a plot for it xD But hopefully it’s enjoyable nonetheless!      On that note, I’m gonna try to get another piece done. But thanks for reading this one, and I’ll see you guys later!

[purplesurveys]

1018

When was the last time you were in pain? Did you take a painkiller? Last Saturday when I stubbed my toe and it made my nailbed bleed. Nah, I just dabbed tissue on it and covered it up a Band-Aid. It didn’t really need one, but I placed one anyway so that I didn’t have to see the cut.

What was the last question that someone else asked you? I was showing my mom some photos of the typhoon’s aftermath in our city and she was asking me where exactly one of the photos was taken. It’s honestly so bad over here rn and I feel kinda guilty for taking surveys when so much of the city still has chest-deep flood...but this is the one thing keeping me from going insane while we still don’t have electricity and internet at home, so.

Do you recall what you were doing last time 7pm came around? Wrapping up work, watching the newest episode of Good Mythical Morning, and was also probably looking for a survey to answer.

What was the last thing you consumed, that tasted sweet? Churros with chocolate dip.

Do you know who Mr Blobby is, or have you ever heard of him? I have never heard of it. Them? Him?

Have you ever befriended someone named Tom? What is/was he like? I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of a Tom where I live. I know Tims though, lol.

Does your father have any hobbies? What are they? He loves cars and motorcycles, and I also always catch him watching compilations of dumb vehicular accidents. He’s also into the latest gadgets and I know he’s been wanting a drone for ages now.

Name a food you enjoy, that starts with the same letter as your surname. Curry. :)

What did the last face mask you wore look like? I always wear those thin plain blue disposable ones because they are light and breathable. < Yeah, same. My mom buys boxes of these all the time so this kind is my only choice, really. I never minded it though.

Do you enjoy any songs by The Pet Shop Boys? The name is familiar and I probably know one or two songs of theirs that I enjoy, but I just can’t place any at the moment.

Is there a specific song that you always request at parties? What is it? Eh, not really. I let other people take over the music. Sometimes my friends will request Paramore for me hehehehe and it’s always nice when everyone ends up enjoying whatever song by them is played. But I’m personally often too shy myself to do the requesting because I’m scared it’ll turn out to be a flop. 

Have you ever read 'The Railway Children?' Did you like it? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.

What was the last thing someone said or did, that made you chuckle? So we have a card game at home wherein each card has a certain category and the game is simply a race to come up with an example under that category. So for example if the game master pulls out a card that says ‘fruit,’ you wanna be the first person to yell apple or orange or something. Anyway, my family pulled it out again because of the current power outage, and while we were playing earlier my mom excitedly yelled “CEREAL” when the category was “breakfast cereal.” All of us died laughing.

Have you ever met anyone named Joyce? What is/was she like? I know multiple people whose second name is Joyce, but I dunno anyone who has that as their main name or preferred nickname.

Who was the last relative you visited? My grandma. Needed to pick up the box of revel bars that my uncle had made for my mom.

Does anyone close to you have blue eyes? Nah, especially not in this part of the world. Who was the last person you messaged on social media? Andrew. He was simply checking up on me because our city is one of the hardest-hit areas of the typhoon so far.

^ Do you know when their birthday is? June or July 20something...I can’t remember at the moment.

Is there anyone you love, whose name starts with H? Hmm Hannah is a good friend of mine, and I guess I can say I love her, sure.

Do you own a hairdryer? What color is it? Yeah, pink. I’ve since given it to my sister since she needed a hairdryer in her dorm, but it was originally a gift for me.

What CDs do you have in your car, if any? I don’t keep CDs in my car anymore. If I wanted to listen to my music, I just link my Spotify to the stereo via Bluetooth.

One hour from now, what time will it be? 4:35 PM.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

When you woke up today, did you find unread messages from anyone? Yeah, because I still talk to my ex like a dumbass. Did the last message you received contain any emojis? No, Angela didn’t use any. Have you recently told anyone that you miss them? Yeah, I said it to Hans today because he messaged me for the first time since my birthday this year. Are you wearing a scrunchie in your hair today? What color? Not right now. I used my hairtie to tie up the bag of chips I wasn’t able to finish earlier, so unless I finish that up soon I won’t be able to tie my hair up in a ponytail for a while haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Yuh, the people I interned with - Angel, Justine, and Bianca - added me on there recently. My cousin Maggie also made an account and added me. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? My mom offered me the last churro earlier because she knows I love them, but I didn’t feel like eating anymore so I let her have it. What was the last film that you saw for the first time? I’m Thinking of Ending Things. ^ Did you enjoy it? I had a hard time with it, especially with the last 20 or so minutes; and it was the first time I found myself struggling with a Charlie Kaufman work. I wouldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though. I guess I just found it a little too complex, and films that make me THINK think are generally a hit-or-miss for me. Which swear word did you utter most recently? Probably fuck or a local swear word. ^ Was it because you were annoyed in some way? A little bit, yeah. My phone’s adapter was missing for a few moments. Do you ever find the smell of your pets’ food unpleasant? No. We feed them the same things we eat, so it would be kind of odd to call that unpleasant. When was the last time you reheated leftovers? Tuesday. It was a burger I failed to finish over the weekend. What was the last thing you ate, that was from a bakery? Can’t even remember the last time we ordered from a bakeshop...a pandesal is my best guess, but I can barely remember the last time I had one of those. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Haaaaaaaaaaaa. Is there a lake close to where you live? Nope. There’s a river, though. What was the last song you recall singing along to? Broken-Hearted Girl by Beyoncé. Have you uploaded any photos to social media today? Of what? No. Literally everyone has been posting photos of their flooded houses and neighborhoods all day, and it’d be insensitive to post pics of my otherwise (fortunately) normal and relatively unaffected neighborhood or some other type of photo. Are you in the process of reading a book? Which one? Nope.  ^ Are you enjoying it? - How recently did you charge the battery on your mobile phone? This morning, but I had to charge from my car because no electricity. I have to do it again, actually – my phone’s barely hanging on at 9%. Is there anyone you interact with every day, on social media? Yeah, my co-workers. In my new job, I’ll have to communicate with Ysa, Bea, and Steffi the most as I was placed in their team. What do you typically do to unwind at the end of the day? Watching the new episode of Good Mythical Morning and GMMore. Sometimes I’ll watch some wrestling too.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

Has anything fallen out of your pocket at any time recently? My vape pen. Luckily I was in my room because I would’ve been a dead daughter if it fell out in front of my parents. Do you have any books that you plan to read sometime soon? Yeah. I plan to resume Midnight Sun one of these days. It’s just a little hard at the moment because I first got it and read it during a rough phase two months ago...opening the book just brings back the memories. It’ll be a while before I’m able to dissociate from those thoughts and enjoy the book. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Yes, the typhoon. The wind was loud enough to wake me up. The electricity also went out a little after midnight, so that also made it hard to fall back asleep. What kind(s) of Facebook groups are you active in, if any? Too many, but I deactivated Facebook again so it doesn’t matter. Do you enjoy any films with Judi Dench in them? Which ones? I respect her contributions as an actress but I’m generally not a fan of the films in her repertoire, so I haven’t seen any of them. I do remember wanting to check out The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but I just never got around to it. Do you enjoy any herbal or fruit teas? What kinds? No, I don’t like tea. Are you currently wearing anything grey? Yeah, my current shirt is gray. Nice timing :) Name any object in your household that is purple. The pen on my work desk is purple. I also have a purple highlighter that I used while still in college. What was the last food item that you used your hands to eat? Churros. Have you seen anyone today that you consider to be attractive? Nope, I’ve only seen my family and even though I wouldn’t call them ugly, I don’t find them attractive in ~that way either. Do you recall what you were doing at 9:30 this morning? Trying to take a survey before realizing I wouldn’t be able to finish it because I felt a breakdown coming through. Do you use a moisturizer? What brand? No. My skin doesn’t really require lots of maintenance, so I’ve left it be for the most part. Do you currently own or use any toiletries with a fruity scent? I don’t think so. My shampoo has that original scent that just smells like...shampoo, I guess, my conditioner smells like milk, and my toothpaste is minty rather than fruity. Does anyone close to you have a beard? Dad, but he shaves it off all the time. The last time you were in your kitchen, what task(s) did you carry out? I made myself coffee. Name some pop groups that you loved as a child. Wasn’t into any as a child, but as a teenager I liked One Direction. Ok fine, as an adult too heheh Do you recall the first CD you ever owned? The High School Musical soundtrack lol Have you ever worked with anyone named Sophie? What was she like? I went to school with multiple Sophies but I never had to work with them. What terms of endearment do you mostly use when speaking to others? I use “b” or “bb” with nearly everyone, as long as it’s appropriate. Is anyone in your family currently pregnant? No. I used to think I was next, but I think I’ll be waiting a lot longer now. I don’t even know if it would still happen to me...which is sad, because I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Do you have any specific plans for this weekend? If the typhoon subsides by this week I’ll be expecting my cross-stitch kit that I ordered online, and I can’t wait to start learning all weekend. {found @ pinkchocolate}

[misc-headcanons]

*Slams thirty bucks on the table* I VOLUNTEER TO LOOK AFTER THE KIDS WHILE THEY'RE IN WANO

Ube: Psst, Maple...what are bucks?

Maple: Some kind of money, I guess. Or it might be a local term for Berries?

Dochi: That's really nice of you to offer, but we're all taking care of ourselves and each other--just like true pirates!

Maple: Dochi! I told you, we shouldn't call ourselves that. The people in Wano might get wary of us if they think we're pirates; we clearly aren't part of Kaido's crew, and the last thing we need is to be accused of trespassing in a Yonkou's territory.

Vanilla: But I thought Grandma and Kaido's crews were friends now, right? We can just say we're her grandkids and they'll take us to where our aunties and uncles are, like whenever me and Fritter get lost while playing; the people in town will be nice and take us to the auntie or uncle that rules their island!

Maple: That's how it is on Tottland for us, but this is different. Besides, the alliance is shaky at best right now. Without any way to get intel and communicate with Uncle Monty, there's no way of knowing how things are going between Grandma and Kaido--what if the alliance is off and we waltz right up to one of the Beast Pirates, saying we're Big Mom's grandkids?

Dochi: Yeah, but we're also Kaido's grandkids. They wouldn't kill us!

Maple: For the last time, that's a RUMOR. We MIGHT be Kaido's grandchildren. MIGHT.

Vanilla: Maybe we can ask Kaido, since we're in Wano! I mean, we might not get the chance to visit him again. What if he is our grandpa and we never even get to go by his house to say hello?

Fritter: What if he isn't our grandpa and he gets mad at us for coming over without being invited? Grandma hates when people show up to the castle when she doesn't want visitors. Everyone we met here says he's really scary, I don't wanna make him mad by being rude...

Dochi: Well, whether Kaido's our grandpa or not, we aren't gonna get anywhere just standing around and talking about it. C'mon, I think I see a town up ahead; maybe it's Okobore?

(Once the kids have walked farther and farther into the distance, a pair of men creep out from a hiding spot amongst the rocky area leading to Okobore)

Scout 1: You think one of them is the girl the scouts on the beach told us about?

Scout 2: You mean the one with purple hair who's from this country? Do those four clear outsiders, none of whom have purple hair, look like that to you?

Scout 1: Well, if one of them isn't the kid, why bother following them?

Scout 2: Didn't you hear them? The one with the white mask AND the little one in pink said clear as day they were Kaido's grandkids! Either they're lying about it and we need to bring them in for disrespecting him, or they really ARE his grandkids. And if they are, imagine how much he'll reward us if we bring them back to the castle; we personally guarded his grandchildren and brought 'em back from...I dunno what they're doing out here, but they're definitely sneaking around without his permission.

Scout 1: Alright, alright. Here, keep an eye on 'em while I get in touch with Hawkins. I swear though, if this turns out as bad as when we tried to stop Kaido's son from leaving without permission, I'm leaving your ass behind.

Scout 2: Oh, don't be such a wuss. That was Yamato. These are five kids, how hard can it be to handle 'em if they fight back?

[unikornu]

Page 13, Reassurance,

Early morning at Nuka Town gives impression that its still asleep but it never is. Raider patrols are always on their watch to make sure traders do not slack and prepare their stations, just without excessive shouting due to early hours and half of them being hangover. Neither asleep was Gage and Lucy. They were heading relaxed towards the south exit, wind blowing rather strong today, raising the dust particles and paper scraps in the air. 

-You look rather…uhmm professional today, Boss. Gage pointed out looking at the white sturdy vest with a high collar around the neck. It was striking Institute right in the face but it had more combat aspect to it rather than the appearance of the usual lab coat especially that she still kept her spiked bracers on. With a tight pants and sleeves combined with some additional reinforcements into the grey fabric it almost looked like a field agent suit. He wasn’t complaining one bit about it, once he took a good look at her back and dropped his eye lower. 

- Ekhem. Lucy grunted under her nose pulling her hair into a ponytail and directing his attention back up to her. - Since Lizzie managed to burn holes in my usual clothes after last trip i had to find a temporary replacement. Institute provided me with it as i agreed to be their agent on the ground before i came here.

- Institute shitheads…i really hope they won’t interfere with our plan Boss. I know they are involved in some shady stuff out there but, shit… you have been there, ya know better, i hope. Gage looked at her raising his eyebrow. He knew the eggheads were the only ones Lucy didn’t turn away so far, hell, she’s been even sending them occasional reports on her situation and to his surprise after each one sent there would a package awaiting for them under the famous corpse “decorated’ tree that was burning each night spreading the smoke and stench of fresh victims that didn’t escape the gangs thirst for caps and blood.

- I think they just want to survive and reach their own goals, pushing their plans, no matter the cost even if its humanity…not so different than us, don’t ya think? We, here, just lack uhm, some control and manners i guess? And we don’t run around in clean lab coats. She ended her thought with a shrug looking for a small confirmation back from the raider.

-Maybe….i dunno Boss..but still, lots of folks out there never dare to raise their fucking nose higher out of their stupid little lives to see all of this deeper like us,  so we will have to deal with their opinion the usual way, my favorite one. He smiled with a corner of his mouth at the thought.

They passed the station and decided to take the first stop at the remains of the small town nearby. 

----- -So who are those Hubologists that we are about to visit? Never heard of them. Are they any threat to us?

-Threat? - Gage laughed. -No…but they sure are weird as fuck. I pointed a gun at one of them once and the shithead still asked me if i’m truly happy. And then he just walked away like nothing happened. I guess we find out more today, Boss. 

They strolled slowly through the ruins with their weapons prepared for any surprise awaiting in the shady, crumbling corners. Instead they heard some voices deeper into the town and sounds of a brawl. They nodded at each other and rushed towards the noise. Peeking from behind the wall they noticed a troubled caravan trying to fend off a group of hungry oversized crickets. 

-Cmon Gage, lets help them first and ask questions later. She ordered but Gage hesitated a bit as he wasn’t always feeling like giving a helping hand to a strangers but eventually listened and went after her, growling under the nose. After a short struggle with nasty jumpy invaders traders turned towards the duo pointing their guns at them. There were five of them, three men dressed as an escort and two women. 

- Easy there. Lucy backed off a step, raising her knife in the air. - We just saw you were in trouble and felt like jumping in.

- Right…i’m sorry. We just prefer to be sure you are not raiders trying to steal from us. Eh, its ok men. Just put the gun down. The woman with short dark blond hair stepped out and ordered.  

- Are you a trader? And how did you end up here? It’s not very….common road. Lucy punched Gage with an elbow to put his rifle down as well.

- Yes, we are merchants. I’m Cora. After our village didn’t survive the attack of  the super mutants we decided to move on and we heard about Diamond City. We are just on our way there. Are you from…? She looked down at her suit squinting her eyes in suspicion.

-Institute? Oh no no…i’m just a field scientist, Lucy, helping some folks in Nuka Town with local…flora and getting some materials for my work. She lied and smiled at her. - And this is my lovely mercenary Porter that i hired to protect me out there. Lot of nasty bugs. She patted him on the shoulder like a good pup. Gage was about to punch her in the arm but noticed what she was stirring there and decided to leave it for later. - You mentioned Diamond City? Its still a long road. Why don’t you just stop by the Nuka Town? 

- We actually never heard of it. Everyone were saying that Diamond City is the best stopping big point right now and very safe for traders. 

- Of course, because they have never been in Nuka Town. It is as safe as Diamond City and i can guarantee you that can get really good deals there. And as a scientist i do have quite high standards. You should really check it out first, with your group you can get there in around two hours. Look i can show you in this tiny little device. She approached Cora and showed her a location of Nuka Town on her map. With her looks and some basic science babble on how she got a working pipboy she managed to convince them to stop by Nuka Town. 

-Dayum Boss…i was not expecting you doing that. He whispered to her as they were waving back at the Cora in the distance.

-Doing what? Lying to them…partly? They sat in the patio chairs in the camp left by traders to catch on a snack and drink before moving to Hubologists. 

- You know what’s gonna happen. You might see them in a few days..just they won’t be that grateful this time but..screw em. You just pushed yourself to the next level Boss. Gage grinned proudly but Lucy got stirred for a moment in her thought process on what she just did. It all happened so natural and fast, no doubt stopped her at any second of it. Was she becoming truly evil, heartless? Or just stepping up in a survival ladder and shaping every occasion to benefit her community.

- Hey Boss…heyyyyy. He shook her by the shoulder.

-Ugh sorry i got caught again in some..thoughts. She raised her hand and brushed the inner corners of her eyes. Gage wasn’t very much for a talk but he at least wanted to show at least a little bit of interest beyond the usual routine from time to time.

-Um..something troubling you Boss? He asked and offered her a cigarette.

- Did you ever lie so much in your life that you actually felt bad for it at some point? She snatched a smoke out of the pack.

- I don’t think so Boss….as i started my fucked up “career” quite early. I kind of lied to my parents promising them to take care of everything as i grow up, be a good man or some shit. I ended up just taking care of myself but i accepted the facts and moved on pretty fast. He lighted one for himself and stuffed the pack back into his pocket in ugly fashion.

- I lied to my partner before, our whole time actually but i loved him at the same time. The longer it was going the easier was lying but at the end of the day i felt more and more like shit for hiding what i was doing, with my boss and the gangs. And he truly loved me back and believed everything to the very end. It wasn’t fair for him. She left out a deep sigh along with the smoke. 

-Look..Boss. That is gone and none of it matter here anymore. I don’t care who you were before. What is fucking important is if what ya do feels right for ya and if it keeps your head on your shoulders. Sometimes you might need to dirty your hands up to get there but…yeh. Gage stood up and threw a smoke to the ground. 

-So far you didn’t have to lie to yourself, neither to me as you came here so i guess….you’re good eh? He looked down at her, with reassuring smile and offered her a hand. He usually failed at offering any kind of support other than the one related to bullets but he was quite convinced he managed to deliver some of it this time.

- Ye…i think you are right, okay, enough of this. Lets go. She grabbed his palm and pulled herself up focusing her mind back to their daily task. He was right, she even told him back at cappy cafe that she can finally openly express how partly wicked she is and the only consequence is a bullet in her or someone's else head.

Upon entering a a Hubologists camp Lucy immediately rolled her eyes towards the huge fire hydrant. She was about to say how fucked up of an idea it is but then again it was Nuka World so this was still falling into almost normal category along with museum of shovels. 

-Welcome stranger! I’m Dara. A woman with grey short hair wearing something that looked like a spacesuit…more of a costume than a spacesuit came right up to them. Her overwarm welcoming already felt strange.

-Uhmm hello? You are the leader of hubologist? Lucy asked.

-So you heard of us? Fantastic! I was hoping you would finally join us on this great path that Star Father has guided us towards! Dara started explaining the greatness of her “cult” and Lucy slowly started to get the idea of what they are, as along with Gage her face was twisting into a confusion and she abruptly stopped Dara from talking any further, raising the palm of her hand in front of the woman.

- Dara…ye? No offense but..you guys are fucked up in the head quite…much, not sure on what drugs are you but even i wouldn’t dare to try, so..i will pass on further..cosmic story. Gage hold his chuckle to himself as Lucy pointed out with total seriousness in her voice.

- It’s a shame then that you think that but… i might have something else for you then. Dara face also turned into serious expression, losing her crazy vibe in that moment. - I need more spacesuits from the Galaxy Zone  you look quite…for a task. 

- Oh, really?  Spacesuits? What the hell you need spacesuits for? Lucy looked at Gage but he only gave her a shrug back. 

- Its none of your business right now. Get them first and then maybe we will talk further as we will be preparing for our journey out of this shithole. Lucy was about to turn her down but the idea of some extra caps wasn’t that bad and they were headed to the Galaxy Park next anyway. And if they were planning to get out anyway why not help them.

- How much you pay? She asked.

- Enough to convince you to take up on a task and leave right now. Dara looked at the man in a hood nearby, pointing at the laser rifle in his hands.

- Fine, we will meet later. She turned away and pulled the Gage after her, leaving their camp.  

-----

  Lucy decided to head back to Fizztop. Further preparations had to be done before giving a hit to the last park. From the description of it on a colorful pamphlet they indeed needed some pulse grenades to deal with robotics that might still be in there.

  -Boss, i know they don’t cause any issues and they are fucked up crazy but we will have to get rid of them at some point, one way or another. Gage pointed out as they were crossing the town.

-We will Gage, don’t worry. I still have to stop by Lizzie to check how she’s doing on those grenades. We will meet later at Fizztop. Lucy took a sharp turn towards Parlor, leaving troubled raider to himself. 

As the afternoon passed and it turned into late evening Gage decided to take a break from tinkering with his weaponry and leaving some notes on the terminal, that now changed its purpose along with the new Overboss. He heard a silent guitar notes coming from the radio, striking in the air to the hall. Gage walked towards the patio stretching his arms and neck on the way. 

-Hey Boss, what ya doin? Been pretty silent here since you came back from Parlor. He approached her sitting at the bar with a bottle of wine and two empty glasses.

-Was waiting for you actually. She poured a bit of wine into both glasses and stood up from the the bar stool. 

-Huh..me, why? Gage asked nervously and his eye opened more widely, noticing what she was wearing. It looked almost like a cocktail dress from a parlor ripped poster, black and glittery  -Something specific on your mind Boss?

  -Just a small occasional toast, for a job well done so far. We are going down to the last park very soon. She stretched her hand offering him a drink.

-Ye, i guess that can’t hurt. He took it gently and smelled the booze inside before clinking the glasses with her. - Also, where did you get all of…. that? He scanned her from head to toes leaning to the side against the bar.

-Oh..a recompense from Lizzie on turning my last one into a swiss cheese. She found it somewhere deep into the storage room and snatched it before Mags threw it away by mistake. - You like it…? She gave a fast spin and noticed him trying to resist the smile growing to the sides of his face.

-Well, your ass always looks great but…that is something..else. He brushed the back of his neck and pushed himself away from the bar preparing slowly to leave before she would catch him and convince to do more unprofessional business. 

-Gage listen, i know you hate these kind of chit chats but… 

She took his hand and pulled him close to her. - I just wanted to tell you that i feel good so far…where i am and what we do together, to get this place back for us. She bit her lips nervously and slowly looked up in his eye. 

-I thought it would be the end of my fucked life…that the gauntlet would take my sorry ass or you right after it. She joked trying not to scare him too much with her words. - But look, i was lost when everything blew up and went to shit and i finally feel like i found my place in this garbage and also...there is you, protecting and covering up for my dumb mistakes and i just...appreciate it, i guess. Her eyes rolled nervously around before looking at him again.   

-Uhm…shit…Boss i…i am glad you think so.. really..i do. And you are not that dumb..i mean just…impulsive.  His brain was storming to find literally anything better to say at this moment as she started to gaze at him. - Look, i know we are kinda busy, deep in work and shit and its been some time but…i am happy it was you who showed up here...and that i didn’t have to kill ya. He managed to joke back at her and calmed down a bit as the smile showed up at her face in a response.

He almost took a step back as she put her hands around his neck trying not to blush like some kind of soft fucker. But on the other side he felt a pinch of pride mixed with surprise, that she was saying all of these words to him, only. That she was standing there looking like from some damn magazine, for him. He almost felt like he didn’t deserve all of this trust and sweet talk at this moment but he wouldn’t dare to throw it away either. 

-Just stay, tonight. I won’t torture you further with my shitty talk.  She whispered as she leaned herself on his chest. He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist. That was indeed something else, more meaningful, not just joking around and some occasional corner teasing and kissing. 

-Hey..when i shouted in your face that i care about you i did fucking mean it.  I’m not good at these talks..and stuff but maybe that will do…. He placed his both hands at her waist almost tempted to drop them even lower on her ass and started slowly swinging with her to the sides in the tune of the radio.

 -Gage..but you hate….

-But you like it so…shut up. He interrupted her and endured another round of slow dancing. 

Lucy tried to turn her head to hide the wide grin but got caught in a surprise kiss from the raider. There was nothing else to be said. Just them, swinging slowly, being reassured in their future plan and each other. Only the swinging didn’t last so long as the kiss and temptation led them both pretty fast to a nearby couch for the rest of the evening.

[mamabearcat]

What on Earthland did I just read?...

Soooo, I wrote this Nalu oneshot in response to this tumblr post. It was only gonna be a short drabble, but it got away on me. *shrugs* what else is new... tagging @shibukii and @fairywithajetblackheart because I said I’d deliver - sorry it took a little longer than expected. Rated T for kisses and Natsu’s language.

Lucy clapped excitedly as Max set up the new communications lacrima on her desk. “Max, you’re an angel. Thank you so much for helping me set this up. Warren is a genius.”

 Max smiled, blushing a little at Lucy’s compliment. “Yeah. Who would’ve thought him patenting that miniature communications lacrima could go so far huh? Ever since he sold his idea of a DeskComm, he’s been rolling in jewels. As if his head wasn’t big enough already”, Max joked.

 Lucy grinned. “Ah well, he’s the one that developed it, so it’s only fair. This is going to make contacting my editor in Crocus so much easier! I can’t believe that I can send her my manuscripts instantly without having to courier them to her.”

 Max nodded. “Yeah. People are sharing lots of information with each other that way. It’s going to make a huge difference to the way people interact with each other. Not only that, now it’s been combined with a typing interface, you can chat to lots of others at the same time. It’s become really popular, even with non-magic users. I set up an in-lacrima Fairytail guild, so we can keep in contact with everyone while they’re out on jobs. I also set up a space where Fairytail fans can chat to us and each other. You should check it out Lucy. I’m sure a lot of the fans would be very excited to talk to you!”

 “Really?” Lucy cringed a little. “I dunno Max. Since Team Natsu did that photoshoot for Sorcerer’s Weekly last month, some fans out on the street have been a little weird. Every time they see Natsu and I together, they’re whispering and nudging each other… it’s kinda creepy, to be honest.”

 Max shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If you’re concerned, you can give it a try without interacting with anyone outside the guild. Just see what they’re saying, and what information they’re sharing. There are a lot of artists and writers on there – you never know Lucy, you might really enjoy it.”

 Lucy’s eyes widened. “Other writers? Oh, I’d love the chance to chat to other writers! It can be so isolating sometimes, being stuck at a desk all the time without anyone to share ideas with. Can you show me how to get to it Max?”

 Max chuckled. “Sure thing Lucy.” He typed into the lettered keypad sitting on her desk, and the glass sphere cradled in its brass holder glowed. Small jewel coloured lights spun within the circle, and Lucy recognised the Fairytail emblem as one of them. “You just need to touch the Fairytail emblem within the glass – here, you do it, because it will recognise traces of your magic aura and let you in. That’s it.”

 The screen changed to show a picture of Lucy; the one on file at Fairytail as her ‘official’ picture for potential clients. Lots of other pictures were all in a line down one edge – some she recognised as fellow guild members, but others where unfamiliar. There was an image of the outside of the guild hall, and an image of the inside. Max pointed them out to her. “Here you go. Only guild members can access this area inside the guild, and you can chat to them if they’re there at the same time as you, or you can leave them messages. Non-members can access the outside of the guild – there’s a shop where they can buy Fairytail merchandise and a place where they can talk to each other.”

 Lucy clapped her hands. “Wow, Max, this is amazing. So you said that I can go on there without interacting with anyone, right? Won’t they know that I’m there if they see my picture?”

 “Ah.” Max pointed at her picture. “Just tap on it Lucy.” Lucy’s picture changed to a big smile. “That shows that you’re in the room and you want to talk. Tap it again.” Lucy’s picture changed so her eyes were closed - she looked as if she were asleep. “That shows that you’re out of the room. But I’ve set it up so that you can still see what people are talking about. If you want to join in the conversation, just tap it again.” Lucy gave him a big hug.

 “Thank you so much for coming over and helping me with this Max. You do so much for the guild behind the scenes – I hope you realise how much we all appreciate you!” Max returned the hug briefly then stepped away, rubbing the back of his neck a little self-consciously, but smiling widely.

 “Thanks Lucy. I’m gonna head over to Fairy Hills now. Erza has given me special permission to visit so I can set up deskcomm lacrimas over there for a few girls, but if I miss the timeslot she suggested, there’ll be hell to pay.” They both shivered a little, imagining Erza’s wrath.

 Lucy tapped her lips in thought. “Oh, I know”, she grinned. “Stop in at the guild on your way there and get a slice of Mira’s strawberry cheesecake for Erza. That should put her in a good mood.”

 Max chuckled. “Good idea. Well, it was nice seeing you Lucy!” He waved and stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him, and Lucy sat down excitedly at her desk. What should she do first? She tapped on her image so it ‘woke up’ and clicked on the in-guild icon. She was momentarily taken aback at the long string of insults in the chat space, but then rolled her eyes when she realised it was Natsu and Gray talking. She stretched her fingers and got to work.

 Lucy H: Can’t you idiots keep the insults to yourselves for a change? And, Hi!

Natsu D: What? Who’s that? Oh, it’s you Luce. Hi yourself weirdo.

Lucy H: Natsu, that nickname was getting old years ago. Can’t you think of something more original?

Gray F: Yeah, dumbass. Can’t you think of something… oh wait, no you can’t because you’re a dumbass. Hi Lucy! This is pretty cool huh?

Lucy H: Yes, it is Gray. Don’t you think you’re wasting it though, just using it to type insults at each other?

Gray F: No.

Natsu D: Nup. I just see ice prick’s face and it’s automatic.

Gray F: You shut up, fire eating trash can!

Natsu D: Ice sparkling snow princess!

Gray F: Slow combustion ass wipe!

Natsu D: Pretty boy ice-for-brains!

Lucy H: Ugh. I’m not staying for this. I hear it enough in person. See you later at the guild!

 Lucy left a welcome message for Levy, Erza, and Juvia, then looked at the other icon, where the non-guild members chatted. Maybe she could just take a little peek? Just to see what they were talking about? Biting her lip, she tapped her image again so it changed to ‘sleeping’ and clicked on the exterior guild image.

 An avalanche of words crossed her screen. It was a bit disconcerting – so many people were chatting at once. Words whirled across the screen in a tangle, but gradually she realised that there were different threads of conversation. She started unravelling the different chats with interest. One group was talking about who would win in battles between the male mages of Fairytail. Another was talking about when the Grand Magic Games were going to be held that year, and who Makarov might choose to go. And yet another was talking about the recent magazine article with Team Natsu.

 Rose P: I loved that outfit that Erza was wearing. You hardly ever get to see her in something so pretty. That dress was so cute, and the sunhat just made it, ya know?

Claire D: I know! And they actually got some photos of Gray Fullbuster wearing clothes *giggles* I mean, but seriously, that man is a dish. I don’t know how the women at the guild work with him without melting into a puddle.

Alice O: I agree! Although, I prefer Natsu. That grin of his, with the fangs! Ugh. And even though he’s not as tall as Gray, he’s so muscular. Oh. My. Gods. I mean, that photo with him and Lucy, where he’s holding her in his arms? So. Hot. And the way he was looking at her, as if he could eat her up? And the way she was looking up at him and smiling at him? Adorable. Nalu forever.

Rose P: Oh, I loved that picture! That was my *favourite*. It inspired me to write another Nalu fanfic. You wanna read it?

Claire D: YES!! Gimme gimme!

Alice O: Rose!!!! You. Are. The. Best. Really, what would we do without you feeding our Nalu addiction?

Rose P: Jeez, settle down you two! Okay, here’s the link.

 Lucy pulled back from the deskcomm, wide-eyed and blushing. What on Earthland did she just read!? Nalu? She could only assume it was a combination of both her and Natsu’s name. And exactly what picture where they talking about?

 She moved over to her coffee table to pick up the latest edition of Sorcerer’s Weekly, flicking through the pages quickly to get to the article. Jason had called in a favour – the team he was going to do an article on had pulled out, due to an urgent mission, and he needed another team to spotlight. Team Natsu had agreed, as long as they got a free meal out of it. So they had met at a local restaurant near the canal for lunch, and as Jason requested, had dressed up for the occasion, the boys in dark pants with buttoned shirts and rolled up sleeves, and the girls in summer dresses. 

Erza had gone all out, wearing a yellow patterned sundress with a large hat. Wendy had looked particularly cute in a little baby pink dress with a lace collar, and Charle had a matching outfit with a perky pink bow on her tail. Happy was wearing a green vest, and Lucy had worn a strapless sky-blue dress with lace edging.

 The interview had been fairly painless, all the usual questions about teamwork, and how they managed to get along so well, and their favourite foods and so on. The photographer had snapped photos while they were talking and eating lunch, and then they’d walked down to the park to take a few more shots as the sun set. Lucy had been walking along the top of the wall on the edge of the canal, as she usually did, when her heel caught on a cracked stone. She had slipped, and Natsu had caught her. That must be the photograph the girls chatting had been talking about.

 She examined the photo carefully, trying to see it with an outsider’s eye. It certainly looked romantic. The sun was setting behind them, the water in the canal was sparkling, and Natsu had his arms around her as if he were carrying a princess. He was looking at her intensely, the way he often did when he came to her rescue. But that was just… Natsu. And yes, she was smiling at him, with her arm resting on his shoulder, but that was just because he’d stopped her from falling on her arse and embarrassing herself. There wasn’t anything romantic about it. It was just how they were. They were close friends. Best friends. As close as any friends could be. He was always there for her. Always. Just like she would always be there for him.

 She smiled at the photo, stroking the image of Natsu’s face with her forefinger, feeling that warmth that she always did when she thought of him. Her life had changed for the better in so many ways since that day she had met him in Hargeon years ago. They had gone through so much together. Some of it dark and dangerous. But the bond they shared after coming though it was stronger than any relationship she’d ever known. She put the magazine down and walked back over to her desk, sitting to look at the screen again.

 Claire D: OMG!!! Rose, I’m dying. I think I’m actually gonna die. That was so freakin’ good! So hot! Man, I think my deskcomm is gonna burst into flames any second.

Alice O: ^^^^ I second that. You really know how to deliver the goods. Rose, your fanfics are so amazing! You really should write professionally, you know that?

Rose P: You guys!! I’m blushing, seriously. I’d love to write professionally, but… I don’t know. And Lucy’s my idol – the way she’s combined working as a mage with a writing career too? It’s just… how can one person be so talented!!! And she’s so pretty too. If she ever read any of my stuff I know I’d just die. I just love her and Natsu so much – I just want them to be happy.

 Lucy’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she patted them with her cooler hands, trying to calm down the burn. This was too much. She felt equal parts embarrassed and proud, and her stomach was doing flips. Should she read what this girl had written? Her heart beat faster as she moved her finger over to tap on the link, hovering above it. She screwed up her eyes and her courage, and tapped.

 Okay. She sighed in relief as she read. This wasn’t so bad. Her and Natsu were walking along, chatting. That was okay. Now they were holding hands. That was still okay, they did that all the time. Well, usually it was because he was dragging her someplace, but still within the realms of what she was comfortable with. Now he was… oh, um. A little cheek stroking was fine, she guessed. And… kissing!? Not just a little peck either. Hot kissing. Full on tongue kissing, and his hands were… eep!

 Lucy shut her eyes tight, squirming a little on the seat as she fought to control her needy reaction to the sexy words on the screen. This was… if she were honest with herself, in her daydreams her and Natsu had kissed more than once. More than kissed actually. But those were just daydreams. Because, lets face it, Natsu was oblivious. He loved her, yes, but he wasn’t in love with her. And she loved him, and the small part of her heart that wanted to take things further in a romantic way, she’d carefully well and truly smothered. It was only when she was alone, in certain private moments, that she let her imagination take full flight and picture how they might be together.

 Taking a deep breath, Lucy opened one eye and squinted at the screen as if it were a dangerous object that might explode at any moment. It looked like she was half-way through the document. And even though the subject matter was making her heart beat a million miles a minute and making her feel more than a little hot under the collar, it was actually well written. If it were about somebody else, anybody else, she’d be raving about it too! It wouldn’t be fair to not read the rest, would it? She opened her other eye and began reading again, leaning forward to give it her full attention, her heart beating faster.

 “Watcha doin’ Luce?”

 Lucy shrieked and leaned over the desk, trying her best to cover the glowing words on the lacrima orb. She turned around slowly, leaning backwards with her hands gripping the desk edge, her face a violent shade of pink. Almost as pink as her partner’s hair, the partner standing right there in front of her. Obviously she’d been so engrossed in her reading she hadn’t heard him come in the window. 

 “Oh, um, ha ha, hi Natsu” she stammered, blocking his view with her body as he tried to peer over her shoulder. “Um, weren’t you busy chatting with Gray?”

 “Nah, that got old quickly. Typing out insults is much harder than actually sayin’ ‘em. I’ll just save ‘em up for next time I see him at the guild.” Natsu took in her flustered appearance and her efforts to hide the screen from him. “Soooo, what’s on the screen that’s so exciting you’ve got to hide it from me Luuu-seeeeee?” He grinned at her, as she spread her arms out and attempted to block his view even further. “Are you writin’ somethin’ that’s pervy? Wait ‘til I tell Happy.”

 “Noooo! I didn’t write it! I mean, I’m reading it. I mean, I wasn’t sure what it would be about but someone wrote a story about us and then I was interested but I don’t think it would be anything you’d be interested in so I’ll just…”

 “Someone wrote a story about us! Cool, I wanna see.” Natsu picked Lucy up as she tried to cover the screen and put her behind him, and then grabbed her hands as she jumped up and down behind him, trying to cover his eyes. He sat down at Lucy’s desk and dragged her hands downwards so her arms hung over his shoulders, both wrists secured by his larger hand against his chest. He used the other to tap the screen.  “Quit it Luce! Lemme just scroll to the top here. Well, this is borin’ so far. There’s no fights or anythin’… oh.” Lucy blushed even brighter as they reached the kissing scene, waiting for Natsu to stop reading in disgust. But he kept reading.

 Both their eyes widened as the scene on the page continued. Lucy could feel Natsu’s heart hammering against her hand, and he gulped as his eyes scanned the page, where on screen Natsu and Lucy got up close and personal wearing a lot less clothing than they had at the beginning of the story. Lucy’s own heart was thumping so loudly she was sure that Natsu could hear it, she was almost sure she could hear it. She squirmed against Natsu’s back, trying to get her hands free, but his grip on her wrists was firm. They both kept reading until the scene reached it’s logical conclusion. Safe to say that on screen Natsu and Lucy were feeling a lot happier and more satisfied than real life Natsu and Lucy were currently.

 Natsu gulped again, shifting a little uncomfortably on Lucy’s chair. “Well, that was… you said you didn’t write this?”

 Lucy shook her head and buried her face into Natsu’s shoulder. “No, it was written by a fan.”

 “So people outside the guild see us that way too? Huh, figures.”

 Lucy raised her head. “What do you mean?”

 Natsu turned his face to look at her. They were so close their noses were almost touching. “Luce, there’s been a betting pool on how long it would take for us to get together since about three weeks after you joined the guild.”

 “Whaaaaat!” screeched Lucy. Natsu screwed up his eyes tightly and grunted.

 “Fucking hell Luce, go scream into my other ear as well, then I’ll be totally deaf!”

 “Sorry, sorry!” Lucy whispered. “But there’s a betting pool on us?”

 “Sure is. Cana runs it. She has heaps of betting pools going. How do you think she affords all the booze she drinks?”

 Lucy blinked. “That explains a lot, actually”, she said slowly. She looked at Natsu’s still pink cheeks, then looked downward, examining her carpeted floor with interest. “Um, Natsu? Have you ever…” she chewed her bottom lip. “Never mind.”

 “Have I ever thought about you and me… together?” replied Natsu, his voice husky. “Sure I have. I’d have to be made of ice not to have thought of you that way. You’re pretty easy on the eye Luce.” He grinned at her, his cheeks flushing darker again. “Sooo, have you…”

 “Yes. Quite a lot actually.” Lucy bit her lip nervously again as their eyes widened. They stared at each other and looked away quickly. Natsu’s thumb drew slow circles on Lucy’s wrist.

 “Say Luce”. He swallowed nervously, then continued. “If you’ve thought about it, and I’ve thought about it, how come we never…”

 Lucy glared at him. “How was I supposed to know Natsu? You’ve never done anything to make me think that you had that kind of interest in me.”

 Natsu grumped back at her. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one dating half the population of Magnolia Lucy.”

 Lucy’s eyebrows rose so high up on her forehead they nearly disappeared into her hairline. “What!” she screeched. “I’ll have you know, since I joined Fairytail I’ve gone on… five dates. FIVE! In how many years? And that’s only because my partner had the romance of a… of a… a rock has more romance in it than you Natsu Dragneel!”

 Natsu’s hand tightened around Lucy’s wrists and he scowled. “Is that right? So, seein’ I’m so fuckin’ hopeless in the romance department, if I asked you out on a date now, you wouldn’t go?”

 “YOU WANNA DATE ME?!”

 “YES I DO!”

 “FINE!”

 “FINE!”

 Natsu let go of Lucy’s hands and swung his arm around Lucy’s waist, pulling her onto his lap, as his other hand cupped her chin, guiding her face towards his. Their lips met, pressing hard against each other, Natsu’s heated tongue slipping into her slightly opened mouth, twisting against hers, making her moan. Her hands twined around his neck, her fingers tugging his pink locks desperately. At first the kiss was ferocious, as years of pent up yearning was released; a battle of lips and tongues fuelled by mutual desire. Lucy’s fingers thrust through Natsu’s hair as she made small needy whimpers, and Natsu’s fingers clutched her hip so tightly she was sure there would be bruises later, but she didn’t care. He pushed her down tightly into his lap, the hard evidence giving her ample notice of exactly how much he was enjoying their kiss. This was finally happening. All those daydreams she had thought would never come true. All that time spent pushing down her feelings. All those lonely nights when she had sobbed into her pillow when he had left her behind for a year, not knowing where he was, or even if he were still alive. Those days were over. If he thought she would ever let him leave without her now…

 Their foreheads rested against each other as they paused to take a breath, both gasping for air. Natsu chuckled, cupping her face with both hands, rubbing her nose affectionately against his. “Lucy”, he rumbled, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

 Lucy smiled back, her eyes full of stars. “Well, maybe you should have, then we would have been doing it much sooner.”

 Natsu leaned back, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Oh really, Miss ‘get outta my bed, don’t look I’m changing Natsu you pervert’… That was kinda discouraging Luce.”

 Lucy pouted, then grinned back. “Well, a girl’s gotta keep up appearances, you know. I don’t let just anyone see me in my underwear.”

 Natsu leaned closer, his hot breath ghosting over her neck, making Lucy shiver. “What would you say if I said I’d like to see that now Lucy?” he said softly, his voice deepening, thumbs stroking her cheeks as he bounced her a little on his lap with the strength of his thighs.

 Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck again, raining soft kisses over his face. “I’d say… kiss… try your luck... kiss... Natsu… kiss… you never know… kiss… what a new day might bring…”

 “Oh really?” Natsu drawled, his chest rumbling with a growling purr.

 “Yes, oh really…” Lucy grinned, then shrieked as Natsu lifted her up over his shoulder, balancing her with one hand. He flipped up her skirt and slapped then squeezed one underwear clad bottom cheek as he marched towards her bedroom. “I’d say I’m feelin’ lucky today Lucky Lucy Heartfilia. Whaddya say?”

 “Natsu you pervert!” she squealed as she dangled over his shoulder, giggling madly. She pinched him hard on his behind as they went through the door. He kicked it closed with a chuckle, shutting out the world.

 _______________________________________________________________

 Rose sighed as she walked in the door to her parents’ home. She kicked off her boots and hung up her jacket on the hook in the hallway. The other baker’s assistant had called in sick today, staying home to nurse a bad cold, and it had been hard managing the workload alone. Even though she quite liked her job, it wasn’t what she wanted to do forever. She wandered into her bedroom to put away her bag, and was surprised to see a large box sitting on her bed. “Ma, what’s this?” she hollered.

 Her mother came down the hallway, drying her hands on a teatowel. “Oh Rosie, you’re home. That box came for you today. Were you expecting anything?” Rose shook her head, and sat down eagerly on her bed, wanting to see what was inside. She tore open the packaging and gasped. The entire box was full of Fairytail merchandise, banners, posters, plushies of Team Natsu, and some postcards. “Oh my goodness! Who would have sent this to me!”

 Her mother looked just as surprised as she did. “It was delivered by a courier – I had to sign for it, but I didn’t notice who sent it. Is there a letter or anything with it?”

 Rose, sorted through the merchandise, pausing to hug each plushie with delight, then noticed the postcard with a photo of Natsu on it had some writing on it. Eagerly she swept it up, doing her best to decipher the messy scrawl above his signature.

‘Yo, Rose – you’re doin’ great work, keep it up!’

She looked at it, overjoyed to have something handwritten and signed from Natsu, but puzzled by its meaning. She turned over the other postcards, and her heart nearly stopped when she saw the flowing cursive on the back of the photo of Lucy Heartfilia.

‘Dear Rose – I just wanted to let you know your writing shows real talent. In fact the story I read was very inspirational! Don’t ever give up. Keep writing every day; the sky’s the limit! With much love, Lucy xx.’

There was a cute heart drawn underneath the writing, enclosing the letters ‘NaLu’.

 Rose shrieked and clutched the postcard to her chest, burying her face into her pillow as her laughing mother looked on, used to her daughter’s over the top personality. “Oh. My. Gods. Mama, call the hospital. I’m gonna diiiiiieeeee!”

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guildwars Love Story

Chapter 5

Four months had past since Kaleb's introduction into the Seraph guard. During that time, both he and his best friend Brad had distinguished themselves as fine, albeit troublesome, soldiers.  Cynthia Waterstone who had been their mutual friend, commanding sergeant and (occasionally) Brad's lover, had helped the two young men excel in many facets of their military life. 

Training as a warrior, Kaleb had become renown for his use of the broadsword as well as the use of short-range pistols.  Brad, meanwhile, excelled at using the long bow, and as a ranger, he could also do petty well with axes.  

The trio was stationed at a Lionguard base known as Kessex Haven that was located in the Kessex Hills region.  Throughout their brief duration at the base, they had all seen plenty of combat; especially against the centaurs.   Kaleb was busy affixing a piece of armor to his damaged pauldron when Sergeant Waterstone stepped in front of him.  

"Ten hut!"

"Ma’am!  I mean, sir!" Kaleb stood up as he saluted his commanding officer. 

"At ease, private.  How goes the repairs?"

"Armor cracked after receiving a blow from a centaur’s javelin.  It’s all better now," Kaleb said as he showed her the now-repaired piece. 

"Not a bad piece of work there, private.  Even if I do say so myself." Cynthia saluted him then turned away.

"Thank you, sir.  But I have a question..."

"Go ahead and ask." "Rumor has been floating that Seraph are prepping for a major assault on Earthworks Bluff.  Is there any truth to this?"  Kaleb asked as he refastened the repaired pauldron onto his armor.

"Officially, you are on a need-to-know basis.  And right now, officially, you don’t need to know," Sergeant Waterstone replied. 

"Then what about the antithesis of official?" "Unofficially? We may be setting up for a major assault upon the centaur main base. The reason being, our supply lines keep getting disrupted and all roads leading into our fort have become too hazardous for many merchants to travel," Cynthia said with a hint of resignation in her voice. 

"So what you're saying is we are being strangulated."

"Yup, that's what's happening. Unless we find a way of neutralizing their main base of operations, our supply lines will continue to be disrupted to the point merchants will be too afraid to replenish our stores.  The Lionguard are stretched thin as it is and they can only do so much to protect the roads.  The rest is up to us, unfortunately."

Brad located his friends among the throng of gray armor-clad soldiers. As their gazes met, he slung his sturdy long bow over his left shoulder and began to give them a hearty wave.   "Come join the party, corporal.  Three's company is good company as my father used to say," Cynthia shouted as she beckoned for him to come over.

"Any luck scoring a few hits on some apples?"  Kaleb asked as he shook the hand of his lifelong friend.

"One taur got it through the eye socket.  Arrow didn't pierce that thick skull of his, but that beast did run off in full gallop bleating like a castrated bull," Brad said with a laugh.

"Ouch. That must bite for them being unable to wipe their own bottoms.  I mean, what would happen if one of them got shot in the ass and no one was there to pull the arrow out?"  Kaleb mused as he made a mock gesture of firing a bow.   "Only you would think of something like that, Kal."  Cynthia quipped. "Just considering sound military strategy, ma'am... I mean, sir." Shortly thereafter, the platoon captain arrived and announced the official plan in preparing for the assault.  He mentioned that food stores were in dire shortage and that the only feasible supply route was via a nearby lake port town called Triskell Quay. 

Captain Errol Conrad stood in front of his troops to address them.   "Each of you may have heard rumors regarding the assault upon the Earthworks Bluff.  I am here to confirm that those rumors are, in fact, true.  Before the next sunrise tomorrow, our forces will be marshaled at the foothills of the centaur base."

The captain gazed across the rows of armor-clad troops as he continued his speech.  "It is also true that our food stores are running dangerously low.  We are in desperate need of grain and protein staples.  About twenty miles from our base, lies at the lakeport town of Triskell Quay.  Information from the locals indicates that there are a couple of meat supply stores located somewhere within the town."

"Currently, our garrison has only one serviceable supply carriage.  All of the others have either been damaged or destroyed.  Henceforth, what I am calling upon is for at least one qualified volunteer to commandeer said carriage, ride into town and requisition the necessary supplies."

Without hesitation, Kaleb shouted.  "Then I'm you're man, sir."

"Say your name, private."

"Private Kaleb Grimwald, first infantry, sir.  I'm a wagon maker by trade and can probably lift and carry more stuff in a shorter amount of time than just about any man, or woman, here."

"I can vouch for him, sir," Sergeant Cynthia Waterstone shouted as she saluted the captain. 

"Me too," chimed Brad. 

Shortly thereafter, several other soldiers vouched for Kaleb's abilities as well. 

"Congratulations, private.  It looks like you've been volunteered."

"Thank you, captain. All I need is a sturdy dolyak and a trusted comrade to tag along."

Brad whistled.  "That's me! Sir!"

Several of the Seraph soldiers helped Kaleb hitch the dolyak onto the transport wagon.  His friend, Brad, made sure everything was secured properly before climbing onto the riding bench. 

Kaleb made some last minute checks to see if the wagon's structural integrity was secure.  Captain Connor approached then beckoned for the two men to come. 

"A brief word, private, corporeal.  I didn't want to announce this to the rest of the troops, but there's something else you and your comrade should know."

"What would that be, sir?"  Brad asked curiously.

"Just so the two of you are aware - the only meat suppliers in town who have the capability of providing enough stock for our troops are, shall we say, not human."

"Well, if they are norns then loading up a ton of meat will be a breeze," Kaleb said with a smile.

"That makes two problems, private.  First - the owner is disabled.  Second - both he and his offspring are charrs." 

The news hit Kaleb and Brad like a load of bricks. 

"Charr?! Why would their kind be living in a mostly human settlement?" Brad said in a disgusted tone. 

"Dunno.  Perhaps they are taking advantage of the peace treaty to expand their business.  Either way, I don't want this information to become common knowledge.  Is that clear?"

Both man said to their captain in unison.  "Yessir!"

The captain gave a quick salute.  "Good luck you two." 

Kaleb then turned to Captain Connor and asked.  "Sir?  You mentioned about one of them being disabled.  What about the other one?  Are they able to do anything?"

"The other one is about your size - small by charr standards.  And rumor has it that it - can't tell if its a male or female as they all look alike to me - mostly sits up in their room doing whatever it is that charr do.  In other words, I wouldn't hold your breath on expecting any help from either of them.  The both of you are on your own.  Now, dismissed!”

With a final salute, the two lifelong friends headed out from the base as they began their journey towards the small fishing village. 

***

The air that permeated Triskell Quay was rife with the odor of dead fish that emanated from the boat docks.  Kaleb's nostrils had not yet acclimated to the pungent scent that was typical of all waterside communities.  As the two men entered the outskirts of town, they noticed a couple of pedestrians walking by.  Not being of shy disposition, Kaleb immediately took it upon himself to ask for directions. 

"Excuse me.  But where can I find a meat marked that's run by a couple of charr?"

"I dunno why fellas like you would be lookin' fer um, but they's place is just up the road a couple of miles due west.  Look for the sign that says Blazeridge Butcher Shop & Marketplace. And if ye can't find it, just follow yer nose till ya gets a whiff of something that smells like a cross between dead cows and a smeltin' factory."

Kaleb and Brad thanked the gentleman for providing the directions then proceeded to follow the instructions they were given.  When they rounded the west corner, Kaleb could detect the unmistakable smell of burning coal along with the faint stench of ripe meat.

"Holy Balthazar!  Are charr really this nasty?  The cistern in my uncle’s backyard smells better than this place!"  Brad commented as he winced up his nose at the pungent aroma. 

"You are naive, bro.  All slaughterhouses have about the same foul aroma.  As a matter of fact, this one smells rather pleasant compared to some of the places I've been to," Kaleb replied as he slowed the cart to a complete stop just before exiting from the right side of the seat.

"Are you comin in too?"

"Nah. I'll wait outside here and guard the cart.  Besides, you’re better at the PR thing than me," Brad said with a wave.

"You just don't like charr, that's all."

Brad laughed. "Nah.  I think every human should have a right to skin one."

Kaleb looked up and saw the sign that read - Blazeridge Butcher Shop & Marketplace. When he walked in, much to his surprise, his nose was greeted with a symphony of exotic herbs and spices.  Once the door closed behind him, a high-pitched whistle sounded for a split second. 

It must be a charr version of a doorbell, he thought as he walked towards butcher counter. 

Within moments, a massive feline-looking creature greeted him.  It had horns jutting out from either side of its head just above its eyes and its face was caged with rows of menacing dagger-like teeth.  The large paw-like hands sported massive claws and its fur was a tiger stripe pattern of umber and dark orange strip patterns.

"Something I can help you with?"  Came the creature's deep and almost thundering voice. 

Kaleb promptly saluted him then pulled out a series of documents from under his breastplate.  "Private Grimwald of the Thirty-First Seraph Platoon, sir.  I am here on behalf of the Queen's army to requisition a supply of protein products from your establishment, sir."

Ludrick grumbled for a moment then promptly snatched the paperwork from the jaded human's hand.  He quickly looked over the documents while muttering a string of incoherent words to himself. 

"Everything seems in order.  But what makes the Queen assume that we even have enough product to supply an army of your size?  Look around you, human.  I sell to the locals.  My supply chain doesn't accommodate masses of marching mice," the charr grumbled as he handed back the paperwork. 

"Well.  I'll remember to say that the next time I'm enjoying a few brews with my friends.  Just repeat after me - masses of marching mice.  Masses of marching mice.  Masses of marching..."

"Gah!  It's got to be something in the air around this village.  It seems to make everyone around here behave like obnoxious morons."

Kaleb bit his tongue.  "Oh.  Sorry Mr. Charr, sir. The heat has made me a bit loopy.  Plus I've never met one of your kind before.  I just tend to say stupid things when I'm nervous."

"The best thing you can say to me right now, human, is 'what can I buy' or 'I'll take x amount of product y'.  If those aren't the two phrases coming out of your mouth then I suggest you get out of my shop."

"Hey.  I'm just here on the Queen's orders.  No need to bite the head off the messenger, kind sir.  But I had heard things through the asura gate that yours is the best meat supply market around.  My soldiers are in need of food badly and what better way of fostering a sense of good will between our people than to make a noble contribution to mutual corporation," Kaleb said with a smile. 

"You're damn right.  Mine is the best market around!  Now, are you going to reciprocate that 'good will' and buy something from me today?  Look around you, it will take days for me to carve up enough cattle to supply your damn army." Ludrick looked away for a moment before glancing back at the rather bulky-looking human.  

"Well, if you must insist.  I would very much be interested in those briskets over there.  But first - I would very much like to inquire about those oh-so savory spices I've been smelling since I walked through the door."

"Not my expertise.  But hold on..."

"Amalthia!  Customer interested in the spices."

Kaleb stepped back for a moment trying to locate the origin of the fragrant aromas.  As he walked towards the nook of spices on display, he heard an echo of footsteps coming down the spiral staircase.   He turned his head to see a slender charr not much bigger than him, padding gracefully down the bare metal steps.

Her pelt had an orange yellow hue and her markings were of a tiger-striped pattern as well.  Four horns framed her amber-eyed face.  The two bigger horns extended from the mid-ridge of her skull and tapered off into elegant points while and two smaller ones jutted back along the length of her cheekbones. 

The young man deduced right away that this charr was, in fact, a female.  He had done enough history lessons to easily recognize the distinction between the two sexes. 

"How may I help you?" She asked in a slightly deep, but otherwise noticeably feminine voice. 

"Those spices other there caught my eye the moment I smelt them," Kaleb said in a strangely sheepish tone. 

"Hmm.  That's something the legions never told us about when we were at war with your people."

"What's that?  If I may be so bold as to ask."

"Bold you are, then.  For your people seem to become unhinged and stutter about like adolescent cubs whenever you meet one of us for the first time," Amalthia commented as she walked over towards the spice nook and pulled out a tray of some dried herbs. 

"Well, I told your dad...."

"Sire."  She corrected him.

"Excuse me.  Ahem... 'sire', that it was my first time meeting your kind..."

"A fact that I already stated to you.  Did you even listen to what I said just thirty seconds ago?"

"And do you, have a habit of always interrupting your customers before they had a chance to finish their sentences?"  Kaleb quipped.

"You just did and I did not.  At least that time," Amalthia retorted.

"What did I not do to you the thing you said I was supposed to have done?  You lost me there."

"I think you are only confusing yourself further.  What kind of spice would you be interested in?"  Amalthia grumbled.

"No. You are the one who is trying to confuse me. I'll take the Siverpeak bay leaves and the Ascelon sagebrush stalks."

Amalthia plucked the chosen spices from their respective boxes then proceeded to individually wrap them with some tissue paper.  As she moved, Kaleb couldn't help but study her form.  He had never seen a charr up close let alone a female one.

She immediately glanced in his direction.  "Is there something else you want?  You can't seem to take your eyes off me."

By now, Kaleb was visibly blushing.  He rarely felt embarrassed about anything, but yet there was something about this charr that he was drawn to, something he couldn't quite explain.

"You have twice as many ears as I do, yet you only seem to possess half the cognition.  Didn't we make it clear earlier that when I get nervous I tend to say and do crazy, stupid things?"

"I think you must have been talking to the wrong charr.  Or is it because you think that all of our kind seem to look alike... hmm?"  Amalthia chided as she carried the packaged contents to the register. 

Moments later, Brad popped his head through the door.  "Hey, bro.  What the hell is taking ya so long?  Don't you realize we have a mission to complete?"

"Hold your dolyaks, Brad.  I'm in the process of delicate inter-species negotiations.  I'll be there once I iron out a few things."

Ludrick looked at Amalthia then Kaleb.  "Still going to purchase that brisket?"

"How will I be able to get it to my base before it turns rancid?"

Amalthia reached over one of the counters then pulled out a small jar of rubbing salt.  "By using this.  Don't worry, it won't leave an aftertaste like so many other salts do."

After the meat was treated and wrapped, Amalthia handed him the salted brisket as she rang up the final sale. 

"Thirty silver even."

"Thanks for the stuff.  And thank you, Amalthia, for being such an interesting... person.  See ya later," Kaleb smiled as he turned to head out.

"Two rules to follow the next time you come here.  First - we are not on a first-name basis.  Second - I'm not a person... like you.  Got it?" Amalthia said as she gave the impetuous human a clawed thumbs up.

Kaleb gave a wink and a thumbs up in response.  "Forever and always."

Brad looked over as Kaleb stepped out from the shop door.  "Here ye, here ye - to all citizens of Kryta. Today the esteemed Kaleb Grimwald has single-handedly started an entire new round of negotiations with the charr.  From now on humans and charr shall rub salts together and sate each others' hungers with copious amounts of meat."

"Hey.  Don't knock it bud!  It was a classified operation.  Somebody somewhere's gotta take the first step toward world peace.  Am I right?"

"If you say so, bro.  If you say so..."

[trentteti]

Law School Applications in the Time of Corona

You know what might help you stop looking at COVID stats for a few minutes? Thinking about law school applications! Hooray?

Okay, look, I get it. It’s hard to focus when, well, [gestures at everything].  And in times like these, there’s no one correct way to cope.  But on the off-chance that your particular brand of oh-god-oh-hell-what-are-we-going-to-do anxiety manifests in an action-oriented direction, let’s talk about some things you can actually do during quarantine to help your law school applications.  After all, even post-apocalyptic wastelands will need lawyers, right?

1. Remember your frenemy, the LSAT

I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear this, but one of the most effective things you can do to boost your law school applications is to slay the LSAT. The immediate time range of when LSAT testing will resume is still up in the air—the March test was canceled, and we won’t hear about April’s exam until around the 10th—but sooner or later the exam will be back.  

Okay, that’s nice, but how am I supposed to study during a global freaking pandemic?

Oh, thanks for the question, rhetorical device. I’m glad you asked.

The New York Times recently ran a piece about adjusting to working (or studying) from home.  The tl;dr version: make a schedule.  Keeping track of time when days merge and blend into each other feels a bit impossible.  One thing that can help is setting a timer.  An afternoon can slip into, I dunno, maybe Tuesday?  But a 40-minute timer is 40 minutes long, no matter when you set it. Setting three 40-minute tasks to accomplish a day feels a lot more doable than “study at some point.”  

Some things that could take about 40 minutes: 

– Comb through recent practice tests to create a list of the types of questions that you want to spend more individual time practicing with.

– Create a set of flashcards — lists of terms that indicate necessary or sufficient conditions or conclusions and premises might be a good place to start.  (If you use one of your 40-minute slots to decorate your flashcards instead of studying them, I won’t tell.)

– Take and score one full practice section.

– Make a list of all of the logical fallacies that you can find while scrolling Twitter.

– Stare blankly at your prep book because some days it just won’t come together.

2. Have you thought about your personal statement lately?

What better time to really ruminate on what makes you uniquely you than a period of enforced isolation?  A lot of the usual activities that law school hopefuls rush to fit onto their résumés before applications go in are going to be pretty impossible while social distancing.  Luckily, navel-gazing is an activity that’s exceptionally well-suited to “pantslessness” long periods of uninterrupted thinking time.  

Try to work in a few brainstorming sessions while you’re commuting around the apartment.  Start easing into a first draft while you rock out to your personal ‘rona playlist.  Do a digital home workout with Chris Hemsworth.  That won’t help with your personal statement, but it might help brighten your afternoon, and don’t we all deserve one nice thing?

Side note: Adcoms will probably see a lot of law school applications and personal statements that start with “How Surviving Coronavirus Changed My Life.” You’ve been warned.

3. Get involved in your community

In order to be a good lawyer… okay, you don’t need to be a good person to be a good lawyer, but wouldn’t the world be a better place if that were true?  The country, and the world, are in crisis. Do something good for the people around you. See if a nearby hospital is accepting homemade masks or other personal protective equipment.  Donate blood.  Send money to your local food bank — or better yet, sign up to volunteer with them (provided that you can do so safely).  Put a drawing of a rainbow in your window and connect with people across the world who are trying to spread cheer and keep kids entertained.  

At heart, lawyers are advocates.  And what are we meant to advocate for if not the betterment of our world?  Right now, that means this.

There are a lot of things that are outside of individual control right now.  We can’t control politicians’ decisions, whether or not our parents are breaking quarantine, or if we’re going to be taking Torts and Contracts from self-isolation.  So we take action where we can.  Stay safe. Stay home. And in the meantime, we at Blueprint will be here for your study needs, be they online classes, individual (online) tutoring, or the humble offerings of this very blog.

Law School Applications in the Time of Corona was originally published on Blueprint LSAT Blog

[wendylewis-blog]

05.18.2020 /MondayMonday

Monday Monday / can’t trust that day / Monday Monday /sometimes it just turns out that way / Oh Monday morning you gave me no warning of what was to be / Oh Monday Monday how could you leave and not take me—

Saturday was full of garden prepping and I felt pretty damn satisfied when the rain arrived Saturday night, continuing all day Sunday as predicted. Prior to the rain, I was able to get the rest of the tomato plants in, herb pots filled, and all other areas prepped with chicken manure garnered from my neighbor (who runs a thriving coop) to nourish seed potatoes, bush bean, radish, swiss chard, cuke and collard green seeds. Now that the yard has enjoyed a full soak I’ll finish planting today and watch my garden grow. Woot!

I’m not a great gardener and certainly not an obsessive one. It’s pretty much trial and error, all the time. I dunno—maybe that’s how gardening actually works. But—in the Summer of Corona, maybe I’ll have the time and energy to maintain it. In years past, I would get a garden put in, but as work increased throughout the season I’d lose interest while temperatures climbed, hornets, ground bees and weeds rivaling Little Shop of Horrors took over. I would bounce between shame and apathy, harvesting what miraculously survived my woeful neglect. In the fall, I would begrudgingly chop it all back just before the first snow, cover it with straw and forget about it until the next year when I would progressively disappoint myself for another summer. Mayyyyybe this year I’ll get it right. Plus—we’ll save money feeding ourselves. 

I’ve been pumping up the jam on cooking again, in the ebb and flow. I made a slow-roasted Korean gochujang chicken last night surrounded by smashed gold potatoes—even made the gochujang paste from scratch. I covet an Asian market closer to me in Cannon Falls, but I made do with what I had and/or could substitute and came pretty damn close to the real thing. 

That segues nicely into the topic of what I really need. More importantly, what I can make for myself instead of purchasing and/or doing without. Imagine doing without. I had a craving for French dressing this week and just made my own—like, duh! I discovered a plethora of brown mustard seeds in my spice cupboard and will make mustard once we get low—it’s crazy how easy it is and the money it will save because coarse ground mustard is expensive for a tiny jar. I’ve made myriad salsas (from borcha to verde), homemade crunchy/clumpy granola,  have been making sandwich bread for a month (saved $20 so far) and next on my list is flora-building kraut and kimchee. Clearly, cooking isn’t for everyone and tastes are varied, but you can easily even whip up a homemade Taco Bell Crunch Wrap Supreme in your own kitchen if you’re having a craving for fast food you miss. 

Beyond that, what can I do without? Well, I can do without a lot. I’ve honed this skill as an artist over my lifetime, but it’s fast becoming an alarming, spotlit political platform instead. I’ve been making some noise lately (a previous post in this blog) about monopolizing bullies like Amazon (Frontline investigative report linked again if you missed it), who not only underserves their employees but also targets independent book and music stores in addition to myriad local goods providers, swallowing friendly competition like a nefarious grey whale scoops up krill. (Not dissing on you, grey whale...just using you anecdotally.)

The pandemic is revealing, in harsh and glaring light, a trend that has been becoming normalized in our society for decades without us really noticing—until now. When my kids were babies in the late 80′s, I remember politics employing integrity on either side of the aisle (OpEd by MN Republican Dave Durenberger I recently posted on FB). But, over the decades, deregulated  capitalism + consumerism has led us into a full scale war with—ourselves! Financial gain rests on one side of the justice scale and the sustainability of humanity rests on the other. 

That’s what it looks like to me—the brainwash is so greedy and stealthy. I grew up in a religious cult so I know something about it after living through it and spending years of therapy in an effort to recover from it. Some of us are demanding to return to work recently, packing restaurants and bars (Wisconsin) long before it’s safe to do so and against the advice of medical experts who are only trying to save our lives! I get it—the frustration—but it’s really dangerous, ppl. 

This smells like social suicide to me. 

Why would we take the risk to jump into that emotionally charged fog just to prove a point? There is too much to lose. 

I fkn really truly feel for every small biz owner, every self-employed person (me) every restaurant owner and their employees (my daughter) who are struggling—it’s difficult and scary. I don’t know how it will look six months from now. I hope communities will pull together and creative solutions will be instigated. I believe in human beings. 

None of us in the middle/lower-middle class will escape the brunt of this. Those with money will have a different anxiety that I can’t understand, but at least they can pay for services, enjoy good health care benefits and houses that aren’t compromised. Still, they will lose their security and retirement, which I’m sure feels terrifying for them. I have neither, so at least I don’t have to suffer that loss. 

Is it possible we are evolving away from our innate survival instincts though, attaching like weasels to a political stance vs staying alive? Not looking good right now. America is not attuned to humility or losing. Is it more worthy to be right vs embracing truth? Ahhhh—sorry, I guess “truth” is another sticky wicket—what each and everyone thinks that means. Slippery slopes. We might be doomed if we continue on this way. Fuck. It feels really dark right now. 

The virus doesn’t give a flying fk if we choose to flip off the rules of our governors screaming instead for our “rights”—our “freedom”—our “livelihoods” and flood into the streets, unmasked and angry. The virus will win, every time. It laughs at our arrogance and ego mad gesticulating. 

Hm. Well. I guess it’s gonna play out one way or another. I really hope I’m wrong and that everyone’s pride wins and doesn’t spread the virus. But it’s not likely. 

So. I’ll return to my garden. Hoe the weeds. Tend to the plants. Hope for the best. 

Be brave. Stay safe. Wear your mask. Lovelove. 

[audreyannerp]

Pen Pals

(A roleplay between @askaudreyanne / @audreyannerp and @red-rad-and-rod .) It had been about a week since Audrey met J.C. and his siblings. It was kind of hard to miss them, given Lola seemingly bee-lined towards them during their stay at the park. She was grateful for her pooch’s detour, however, as the three proved to be good company (as did their father, who they had lunch with.) She wasn’t sure how long she should wait before emailing J.C., but figured a week was a long enough wait to not seem overly eager. She did originally intend to only send pictures of the dogs to show his sisters, but now she wanted to talk to him too. She decided to start slow, with a simple email. This is J.C., right? It’s Audrey, from Michigan. Here are some pictures of Lola in some flowers. She wasn’t supposed to be in them, but I just had to snap a few pictures before I got her out! Let me know how you three like them! She hoped asking for a response would lead the way to them talking about more than dogs.

- Ping! Oh, thank goodness, something to actually respond to! Surfing through a seemingly never ending list of ads for things he didn’t need was starting to get tiresome. A few clicks later, J.C. found himself searching through his e-mail. Hmm…junk. Junk. E-mail from Audrey- wait. E-mail from Audrey? … Ah, right! That was who he met over in Michigan when he and the family were over in Michigan! Man…even though they had only hung out for a little bit, he missed her. Her beautiful smile, her cute giggle…sigh~ Snapping out of his little lovestruck trance, he went ahead and read through the message, snickering a bit as he got a glimpse of Lola being a goofball. A short while later (mainly after Syd and Kat stopped squealing over the little pup), he sent back a reply: Yyyyup, it is! At least, that’s what people have been calling me for 23 years… Ahaha, I kid, I kid. 😋 What a little goofball! She’s such a sweetie. Syd and Kat seem to think so too, given the fact that they’ve been fawning over her for the past fifteen minutes or so. And reignited the whole “Mum, Dad, let’s get a dog!” debate, but that’s to be expected. How have things been over by you? - Audrey wasn’t the type to live on her phone or computer, so it was a good thing she had written a note to herself to check her email later. Upon coming home that evening and checking her notebook of reminders, she brought up her email and took a look. She chuckled at J.C.’s response and promptly began typing a reply, pleased he wanted to chat. (Or was at least acting like he wanted to, in order to be polite.) Ohhh deeaarrr XD I hadn’t intended to start a debate. Could you please tell them I’m sorry? Anyway, things have been pretty ordinary over here. Weather is still pretty nice, so I’ve been taking Lola on longer walks. She got a little over excited today though and ran into someone’s garden, as you saw. I was sure to tell her no… after I stopped laughing and taking pictures! XD So, how have things been on your end? - After hitting send, J.C. had to think…did it sound like he seem interested? Did he sound bored? Should he have added more emojis? …Nah, maybe that would’ve been a bit excessive. Maybe a little immature…who knows, maybe Audrey would have thought that Syd or Kat took hold of his computer. Now came the waiting game. He would’ve done a bit more internet browsing, if he hadn’t have been dragged outside by Syd for a game of football. That was probably a more productive way to spend his time, anyway. No real need to worry. (…) Later on, now relaxing with a cup of tea, he went back on and found a reply. Haha, I will! They’ve been getting that for years, but I’m sure they’d appreciate the regards. Glad to see the weather’s manageable. Kind of makes me wish I was back there; right now, we’ve had a couple of gales come through. Nothing too bad, but having to be stuck inside for most of the day. Plus side, it’s supposed to clear up soon. Oooooh, Lola, what’s your mum going to do with you? 😂 Kind of reminds me of this time when Syd was a toddler…she’d done the same thing with our next-door neighbour’s back garden. I’ll have to send the picture in my next e-mail, but the end result was her being held (gently, of course) by her overall straps by our neighbour’s sheepdog! - Audrey discovered his reply the following morning. While she sent her reply early, it was likely the afternoon over where J.C. was. Wish you were here for the weather? Are you sure you don’t just want to see me? HA! I kid. I kid. We barely know each other. Aaaanywaaaaay… A sheepdog holding a toddler? That sounds both hilarious and adorable! You have GOT to send me that picture! Let’s just hope karma doesn’t come back to bite me. Mom and Dad recorded EVERYTHING when I was a kid. They have soooo many VHS tapes in the basement. Photo albums too. For a non-photogenic child, they sure loved taking pictures of me. - Why did time zones have to be a thing? He could respond at ten in the morning, and it’d only be five A.M. over by her…ah well. Upon reading Audrey’s response, he couldn’t help but blush a little. Okay, yeah, part of it was the weather, but part of it was because he wanted to see her. Weeeeell, that would be a major plus, if I’m being honest. …Does that sound creepy? Jeez, I hope it doesn’t; virtual communication’s tricky that way. 😓. If it did sound that way, I do apologize! Guess, ah…guess I should get on with the rest of this reply. Heheh… Don’t worry, little me wasn’t exactly the poster child for being photogenic, either. Guess it must be a parent thing…mine were the same way. I’ve made sure to bury one of the albums that has the MOST embarrassing ones as deeply as I can in storage, but somehow they keep finding it. Speaking of ‘embarrassing’ photos… Ask and ye shall receive~ Not going to lie, her face still cracks me up; sort of like she’s saying “Curses! Foiled again!”

- Audrey was pleasantly surprised to see that J.C. seemed to enjoy her company as well. Aw, really? You’re sweet~ <3 Don’t worry; no creepiness detected! Well, you know parents and their magic able-to-find-stuff powers. You could search for something for hours and they’ll point to it right in front of your face! That photo is somehow more adorable and hilarious than I thought it would be! She really was a scamp from the very beginning, wasn’t she? Anyway, if you’re interested, maybe I could tell you a bit about myself and vice-versa? Make sure I’m someone you want to see again? - Oh, good! This was off to a great start~ Phew! Good, good. Just want to make sure, y’know? True, true. Heck, you could try to send something that you don’t want seen to…I don’t know, Antarctica…and they’d still manage to find it. Haha, yeeeeah; once she started crawling, it was all downhill from there! Sure, why not? I think it’s better one-on-one as opposed to doing it in front of a group, like on the first day of school. That whole “what’s your name, what’s your major, one fun fact about yourself” spiel. How should we do this? Do you want to go first or should I? - Well, I suggested it, so I guess I’ll go first. Now let’s see… My full name is Audrey Anne Davis. I’m currently 24 years old and my birthday is March 27th. I’m a college graduate and I work as a personal trainer at a local gym. My hobbies include working out, cooking, listening to music, and dancing. Not sure what else to put so, uh, your turn! (P.S. Feel free to ask me anything!) - My turn it is, then. Soooo, let’s see…mine is Jean-Claude Henri Malone (née Bellerose), currently 23, aaaand my birthday’s August 23rd. Right now, I’m working on my bachelor’s (almost done, though!)…started in gen. studies, decided to do something with humanities. I do a bit of work at the student bookstore, aaaand my hobbies include listening to music, playing videogames, reading…aaaand I would say I enjoy a bit of footy every now and again. Aha, dancing, eh? Any specific training (e.g. ballet, hip hop, anything of that sort) or is it more like “put on some tunes and see where the music takes you”? (P.S. Likewise!) - I have to admit, I had to Google née and footy. XD Anyway, I learned to dance from my dad. He took some classes when he was a kid, but is mostly self taught. (He’s REALLY good!) I pretty much just go with the music. I know some specific dance moves, but I don’t really know how to do those fancy dances you’d do at a ball. What kind of books do you like to read? I’m not much of a reader myself, but I do listen to audio books on occasion. I’m not exactly the brightest bulb, so I try to stick to books that don’t have seven layers of meanings you have to analyze in order to understand and enjoy them. - Ah, yes, the “English to English” thing. If I find one of those sorts of dictionary, I’ll be sure to send it your way. XD Interesting! That’s how I tend to dance as well…I’ve been meaning to take one of those “ballroom dancing” classes, just for the heck of it, buuuut…dunno, haven’t had the time as of late. (Or a partner for that matter, but that was a different story.) Just kind of want it as some random skill to have under my belt. I’m not super picky- if something looks interesting, I’ll pick it up, read the first couple of chapters, see where it goes. Though I will say, audio books are a godsend…always good for plane or car rides, if you’re not the one driving. I totally feel you on that whole “analysis” thing; that used to throw me in secondary school so much. “The blue door is supposed to represent the main character’s feelings of sadness”…mmmmaaaaybe the author just really likes the colour blue? 🤔 Personally, I always like to recommend “Le Petit Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (don’t worry, there is an English translation…and about 298 others, haha). There’s some analysis like that that could come with it, but not a ton. It’s one of those stories that doubles as a “children’s” story and one for adults, as well. - You never know when you’ll have to break into a waltz! I jotted down that title in my handy dandy notebook, so I should remember to look into it. (The act of writing things down helps me to remember. You should see how many notebooks I go through in a year! LOL) Speaking of children’s stories, have you ever read any Goosebumps books? I only read one as a kid and it really scared me, so I never read any more. I wonder if I could handle them now. The problem is my fight or flight response is just a fight response. If I get nervous, I might hit things out of reflex. I once accidentally broke my dad’s nose as a kid because he snuck up on me. I felt SO BAD. My mom couldn’t stop laughing though. She was actually recording when it happened, so that infamous family moment is on tape. - True, very true! 🤣 I have, actually! Read a few when I was a bit younger- my favourite had to be the ‘Night of the Living Dummy’ stories. They were pretty creepy, I have to admit…although I stumbled upon another series around the same time that, I argue, is quite creepier. I’m not sure if a series known as “Grizzly Tales for Gruesome Kids” made its way over to the states, but hoooo boy. It was made into a TV series as well…not much better in terms of toning down the creepiness. I used to say it makes Goosebumps look like Mother Goose! 😮 (Granted, I don’t think Goosebumps is supposed to be a series that scares you into good behaviour whereas G.T.F.G.K. sort of is, buuuut…still kind of has you going “WHAT did I just read?!”) Okay, just reading that made me cringe, ouch! Remind me to never spook you…or if there’s ever a time we’re over in the states for Halloween, remind me to not take you to a haunted house/scary movie. If it’s any consolation, there’s quite a bit of embarrassing footage of small me as well, haha. “Cowboy J.C.”, “Super J.C.”, tiny siblings/cousins spitting up on me, you name it. 😅 - It doesn’t sound familiar to me, but I was never on the lookout for such things. Scaring kids into behaving? Ick. I’m of the belief that you should influence a child with positivity. I don’t mean in a spoiling kind of way. I just think finding the cause of a problem is more important than punishing the child. And when it does come to punishments, never do something that can damage them in the long run. Don’t be too lenient though. It is important to learn that actions have consequences. There has to be a balance. Sorry for the ramble there. It’s just that the way children are treated is important to me and I do not censor myself with such things. I’ll be sure to remind you. I’m not a fan of scary things. Unless they’re a fun type of scary, like paper bats or those fuzzy spider decorations. We’ve only ever had really silly looking spider decorations at our house during Halloween because my mom’s arachnophobic. If they’re too realistic, she gets the heebie-jeebies. Speaking of embarrassing, I feel it only fair to you and Syd that I share a photo of my own.

Guess who. - Hey, that’s fair! And makes sense, too. My thing is just…kind of let them do their thing (to an extent) and experience the world, just guide them along the way, you know? If they’re being a little butt (or rather, standard kid who’s still learning) about something, tell them why they shouldn’t be in a way that they understand; cause and effect. Like yes, you may want to eat six ice lollies in a row, but if you do, you’ll get a stomachache. Kiddo knows from experience that stomachaches suck, so a compromise of one or two ice lollies is made. As you said, balance is key. Aaaah, arachnophobia. Guess I’ll have to tell Syd that if she wants to show your mum a cool spider she found to…well, not to. XD; Awww-ha-ha-ha-haaaw, caught red-handed! I guess since I’ve put Syd and you through it, I figure one of mine wouldn’t hurt, either:

Apparently, small me did not like the idea of a fork, haha. - I’m glad we have similar views on children. I think we’re going to get along juuuuuust fiiiiiiiine. (Don’t get me wrong. I won’t hold it against anyone if they aren’t good with kids. Just don’t be mean to them.) Awww, you’re adorable~ Hmm… This email is a little short. I’ll just add some random stuff about me here. I love plush animals and have a LOT of them. My favorite fruit is either strawberries or raspberries. I hate pickles, but I like cucumbers. I can do the splits. … I’m out of stuff to say. - Right? I mean, they’re people, too. Just…y’know, tiny. XD As long as you try, then that’s what counts. Eheheheh, I mean…kiiinda? 😅 This was one of the ones I could find that wasn’t completely embarrassing. I think Dad’s in possession of one of the ones that would made me melt into a puddle of shame. Hm, so’s this one. Guess I’ll follow suit? My favoruite fruits are probably apples and watermelon. I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue. I like those indoor trampoline parks, buuuut the last place you’ll catch me is in the foam block pit (of course, guess who loves to go in those). If I had to pick my top three favourite animals, I’d have to say either cats (big or small), dogs (same), ooooor elephants. - I can’t really think of much to say this time around, but I’ll leave you with this. Given your favorite animals, I’d say I can always rely on you to address the elephant in the room! - LOL! 🤣🤣🤣 Haha, that’s alright. Guess that means we’ll have more to talk about the next time around. I think?I hope? XD; - It was a few days later that Audrey took the time to really sit down and think of something to write. Sorry for the wait on this one. I wanted to actually have something to say this time. Before I forget though, did you guys remember to try Blue Moon ice cream while you were here? Anyway, I find it so odd to think about how, if it wasn’t for Lola, we might have never met. Well, maybe not never, given our dads work for the same company. We might not have met until much later, if not for Lola. How neat and silly is it that my dog found me a pen pal? Also, I was able to think up some more questions for you! What are some of your favorite animated movies? What about songs? Desserts? Oh! By the way, here’s a video of Daisy my mom took the other day. It’s amazing how high that little dog can jump when treats are involved. - Now, logically, J.C. knew that taking a few days to respond was no real issue. Perhaps Audrey had gotten preoccupied with other tasks. That was typical for a twenty-something nowadays (he should know, he was one). A small part of him, though, couldn’t help but feel as though she had lost interest in him. If he had, he wasn’t the kind of person to be bitter about it…maybe a bit upset, but…Audrey was her own person, she had the right to make her own decisions. When he got a reply a few days later, that fear had melted away…then again, a video of a little dog getting some serious air in the name of treats always helps. Hey, no worries! We did, actually. Interesting flavour! Kind of like cotton candy, but also kind of not. If “blue” itself can qualify as a flavour, I guess, that’s what I’d call it. Kind of bites that wer don’t have it over here. Guess that gives me a reason to go back to the States, LOL. Ooo, okay, let’s see…I’d have to say one of the more recent ones is Ernest & Celestine. When I was little, apparently, I used to watch My Neighbor Totoro at least once or twice a week. I don’t remember, though, if I had watched it in English or in Japanese with the subtitles on. Might have been the latter, I only know the song in Japanese (and that’s….probably the extent of my Japanese XD. I can’t translate it, but I can sing it, so there’s that!). Songs, I’m all over the place, so I can’t exactly list a specific one. Mum and Dad like the Beatles, and they grew on me, sooo I guess there’s them? Will have to get back to you on that one, haha. Dessert-wise…can’t go wrong with creme brulee, that’s for sure~ Hot fudge sundaes are a close second. To be honest, I’ll take any offerings when it comes to sweets. 😋 Ha! Man, she’s got some power there…imagine her trying to make slam dunks! …Granted…that’s….kind of hard to do without thumbs, but…you get what I mean. I think? I know, right? I’m not entirely sure what dogs think about, but can you imagine if she was actively/knowingly playing matchmaker? ‘yes, hello there other human, meet mine’. 🤣 Guess that makes it my turn for questions? Mine are kind of weird, but: What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to? What was the last song you sung along to? What’s your favorite type of day? (weather, temp, etc.) - Blue really is the best way to describe that flavor! Hard to imagine that ice cream as any other color. Then again, it might work in another color as long as it’s pastel. I think it’s pastel flavor. LOL Ernest & Celestine looks adorable! As for the other one… Honestly, it would probably have scared me as a kid. I think it’s the art style. Something about how big their mouths get, maybe. I don’t know… Nothing against the movie though! Just not my preference in style, you know?I’d say a few of my favorite animated movies are The Lion King, Lilo and Stitch, and the Emperor’s New Groove. I like to think New Groove is safe for any audience because no one dies; not even the villain.I like the Beatles as well! My music taste is varied. If something sounds good, I like it. Genre doesn’t really matter. Creme brulee? I’ve never had that. I do like custard though, so I imagine I would like it. And who doesn’t like hot fudge sundaes?! I love sweets as well! Yeah, I get it! Maybe we could get her a little basketball and hoop? She could carry the ball in her mouth! Her dribbling will be drool! XD I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what dogs are thinking. As for your questions, rock climbing might be fun? I’ve climbed indoor rock walls, but never the real thing. I honestly can’t remember the last song I sung along to. I kind of sing bits and pieces or hum when I listen to music, as opposed to full on singing along. Maybe I can go with the most recent song on my iPod? It was Fortune Teller by Maroon 5. I tend to find good things in any type of day, really. If I had to choose though, I’d say a sunny mid-spring day. The temperature would be right in the middle, not too hot, not too cold. Maybe the occasional cool breeze to help you feel alive, but enough sun that you don’t need a light jacket, but can wear one without burning up. Woof! That was a lot of typing! Maybe we could do an audio chat or something, one of these days? She hoped she wasn’t being too forward, but, seeing as they’ve spoken in person, she reasoned it wasn’t a big deal. - 😂😂😂 Eh, blue, pastel…close enough. Still tasty, regardless! 😋 Totally understandable! To each their own, right? Ooo, I might have to recommend New Groove to Kat. I’ve seen it a couple of times, but she hasn’t. I think anytime we’ve tried to settle down and watch it, something comes up (i.e., she’s going to a friend’s house, I had plans with a few of my friends, etc.). Lilo and Stitch is a pretty good one (def. one of Syd’s faves), and who DOESN’T like The Lion King? Can’t help but sing along with it, haha. Remind me to send you a recipe for some. It can be a little tricky, but it’s not like you have to have four or five things going at once. J.C. stopped typing for a couple minutes, trying to move his wrists around and get some of the building carpal tunnel aches to calm down a bit. Maybe Audrey had the right idea, switching over to audio calls… As for audio chat, I’m perfectly fine with that! Just want to let you know that I am about four to five hours ahead of your time zone (I believe that’s what it is? Daylight Savings is a weird concept…I guess for part of the year, it’s four and then the other part is five.). Whenever you’re feeling up to it. :) - Oh, right. Forgot about the time difference. Oops. LOL I tend to wake up at six in the morning and head to bed around ten at night. My work schedule isn’t a typical nine to five deal, being a personal trainer and all. I generally work when the client isn’t; so it’s usually in the mornings and evenings. I suppose the best time to catch me is early in the morning and midday, my time. Or on my days off, of course. Do you have an account on Discord? I figured we could do our chatting there. - Time-zones, mon amie; Une vraie douleur dans le cul…😩 Early morning, midday, and days off…duly noted! So that’d be afternoon to early evening here, I believe. Works out, though- my available times tend to be later in the day my time. I do- Name on there is OuiOuiJC#0714. If you see a profile picture that has a ferret in a beret, and they’re holding a baguette and glass of wine, that’s me. - Audrey couldn’t help but giggle at his username and profile picture. Rather than email him again, Audrey sent him a friend request from her Discord; AudreySugarSpice#1734. Her profile picture was a pink teddy bear. Guess who~ - Pink bear? Hm, unless one of his sisters had secretly made a Discord account (”Not until you’re older”, as per Mum and Dad’s rules), theeeeen this had to be Audrey. Looking at the username, that definitely confirmed it. Friend request accepted~ Guess who, eh? Hmmm….the Queen of England? 🤣 - Feeling a bit bold, Audrey initiated an audio call with him, planning to greet him with, “How’d you know?” followed by giggles. - …Well, she did say that she wanted to try out audio calls, so why not? Picking up, he answered with a comically dramatic gasp. “Your majesty~! I am not worthy!”   - Audrey giggled more. “I’d have followed up by pretending to be a queen, but, I don’t know how one acts and I can’t do an English accent to save my life,” she laughed. “Anyway, how are you doing? Can you hear me alright?” - “Incredibly proper, supposedly.” he chuckled. “Doin’ alright! Can hear you juuust fine. How about on your end? Hearing me and how things are going, I mean.” - “Same here! Glad I caught ya at a good time… I did catch you at a good time, right? It should be evening over there. Oh, I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything…” - “Haha, naaah, you’re fine! Been with the family for most of the day, so I’ve secluded myself in my room for a bit of ‘me’ time. It’s all good.” - “So I guess your me time is us time now,” she chuckled. “You live with your parents still or are you just visiting? It’s fine either way!” she added in a hurry. “The only reason I have my own place is because of Spike. He’s a workout friend of mine who works in construction and knows a few people in real estate.” - “Guess so; not that I’m complaining.” he responded. “ I spend most of my time here during the summer holiday…and, well, regular holidays.. During school, I live a bit closer to the campus. Soooo…I guess you could say both? Once I get my degree, I’m moving into my own. Haven’t settled on a location yet, really. Depends on if I want to be adventurous or not.” - “Ahhh. I see,” she nodded to herself. “What are some locations you’re thinking of moving to? Just curious.” - “Back to France is always an option…but knowing my family, either they’d be coming here at least once every couple of weeks or vice versa. Aaaaand that back and forth travel can be kind of pricey. I could always head up to and stay in Blackpool- where my university is. Or just take a total leap of faith and try somewhere else. The few times we’ve been over to the U.S. have been kind of nice- maybe I could live there. Might consider multiple citizenship, who knows. Eleven months there, one month here…” - “That does sound pricey… Though I’m sure you know that, if you’re considering the United States, I have to recommend Michigan. I’m biased, yes, but I have at least visited other states, so I’m not blindly swearing allegiance or anything. Fun fact, Michigan is one of the leading fruit growers in the States~ Cherries, especially,” she chirped. - J.C. laughed, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea; being surrounded by fruit. I also wouldn’t mind living somewhere that gets actual snow in the winter. I mean, sometimes we’ll spend the holidays up in Northern Scotland, but not having to travel to see and play in the snow would be nice.” - “Oh, snow is definitely something we get up here,” she laughed. “Multiple feet of it, in fact. You should see Daisy during the winter; it’s hilarious! You just toss her outside and fwump; she disappears into the snow!“ - “Pffff! You might just have to tie a balloon to her collar or something and just track her that way. Or do you think she would float away?” - “Ha! Enough balloons probably would make her fly away! She’s so tiny! Truthfully, we just look for where the snow is moving. It also helps that she wears little sweaters when it’s cold out. Mom’s tried putting booties on her, but she just kicks them off.” - “Awwwhawhawhaw~ I’d hope she’d have at least a little something to wear. If I’m not mistaken, Michigan and a lot of those northern states can get pretty cold…like ‘stuck inside for days’ or ‘wearing five layers of clothing just to get the shopping done’ cold.” He thought for a minute. “Of…course, that’s all from word of mouth as opposed to personal experience, but…” - “I can confirm that it can get that cold. Ever see A Christmas Story where the little brother has so many layers of clothing he can’t put his arms down? It’s kind of like that.” - J.C. laughed, picturing the scene. “Oh, mon dieu. If we’re ever visiting during that time of the year, remind me to keep Syd away from metal poles!” - “Oh goodness… Yeah, that’s really a thing that happens here. Why do so many people think that’s a myth? Have they never gotten their tongue stuck to a popsicle before?” - “Apparently not. But hey, doing stupid stuff’s a part of life,I suppose. Maybe gain some status or fame in your friend group or among your class/workmates.” Sounded as if he was speaking from experience. - “Why do you sound like you’re speaking from experience?” she teased. - There was a brief moment of silence. “…Beeeee….caaaaaause I mmmmmmaaaaaay have done a few things that…could be qualified as such.” he responded, chuckling sheepishly. “N-nothing major, though.” - “Ooooooo~” she said, trying to sound like a studio audience. “What’d you do?” - The sheepish laughter intensified. “Aaaah…hm. You know those really, really hot peppers that are on the market?  Short and skinny of it is ‘Guys Night In’ and a game of ‘Truth or Dare’. It wasn’t a…Reaper? I think that’s what one of those are called? Only reason I know that is because I probably would’ve ended up in hospital, haha. I think it was aaaa….habenaro? One was, the other’s called  ‘Naga Jolokia’. Ate the habenaro with little issue, didn’t even get a full two bites into the other one before I was gulping down water like no tomorrow.” - “Oh noooo,” she laughed. “Oh nooo-ho-ho! That’s- That’s a ghost pepper, isn’t it?! Ah-ha-ha-ha!” She broke into a laughing fit. - His laughter became less sheepish and a bit more joyful. “Eeeeeeeyup, it is. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, but hey. I will say, it did go better than when we played that one game with the Jelly Beans. …What’s it called? ‘Bean-Boozled’?” - “Yeah, it’s Bean-Boozled. Basically Bertie-Bott’s Every Flavor Beans but Jelly Belly brand. Dare I ask what could have happened when playing Bean-Boozled?” - “Weeeeell, plus side, I wasn’t the one who ended up with their face in a wastebasket.” he snickered. “The last few times we’d played, I kept getting the really gross flavours, and there was this joke that I was cursed. With our most recent game, the ‘curse’, I suppose, had reversed and the person who got all the good flavours last time got all the bad ones. He was fine up until…ugh, dead fish.” - “Ew-hew-hew!” she laughed. “Though, technically, all fish we eat is dead. It’d be pretty messy if we ate them alive… and gross… Say, that reminds me, you like scary movies, right? I have a question about zombies.” - “I doooooo. What’s your question?” - “How fast does a zombie need to eat before its victim becomes a zombie too and they don’t want to eat it? Like, zombies don’t eat other zombies, right? If you’re killed by a zombie, you become a zombie, right? How does that work?” - J.C. blinked, initially unsure how to answer. “That’s….actually a really good question. I like to think that it depends on the initial method of zombification. If it’s done via a curse, you’ve got a bit more time, whereas if it’s because of a virus, that time shortens, since you’ve got all this zombie saliva coming into contact with your blood. Blood takes about one minute to circulate through your entire body, so…you’d probably have to go all ‘pie-eating contest’ speed if your zombification is viral.” He stopped and thought for a minute. “Granted, you get bit regardless of the initial turning mechanism and still come into contact with their saliva…maybe one method is more virulent and fast-acting than the other? Kind of like how it can take something like food poisoning to show up in as little as half an hour to as long as four weeks, depending on what’s responsible for causing it.” - There was a long pause before Audrey replied with, “Huh… I don’t know what to do with this information… I’d write a story or something, but I don’t have the creativity for that. Hm… Maybe I should mention this to Adelyn… She’s good with this sort of thing.” - “Nor am I.” he chuckled, “Ah, Adelyn, eh? Friend of yours or a relative?” - “Relative,” she informed. “She’s my youngest cousin. She’s on the autism spectrum and is, like, really smart and creative.” - “Ah! Maybe she can tell me if the logic on my answer to your question seems sound.” All of a sudden, he heard a small sneeze outside the door, along with a small ‘THUD!’ and a young-sounding ‘Dangit!”. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Hold on just a sec…” Getting up and walking towards his door, J.C. spoke to who he suspected was on the other side. “I know that’s you, petit singe. Are you eavesdropping?” “Noooooooo…a person can’t just chill against the wall in their own home?” “The wall that has their brother’s room on the other side?” “…All the other walls were taken?” - Though the voice was a bit faint, Audrey figured the little eavesdropper was Syd. “Tell her I said hi,” she called loudly, hoping J.C. could hear her from however far away from the computer he was. - “Can do!” he called back, before turning his voice back towards Syd. “Audrey says ‘hi’, by the way.” Syd gasped, “You’re talkin’ to her?!” She took a deep breath and shouted: “HI AAAAAAAUUUUDREEEEEEEY!!!” J.C., having been up against the door cringed and rubbed his ear a bit. Probably should have seen that coming… - “Oh wow, she’s got a set of lungs on her, huh?” she laughed. - “Tell me about it.” the older brother groaned slightly. “ ‘Kay! Soooo I’m gonna let yooooou twooooo get back to your conversation! Maybe we can do a chat later on; I don’t want to interrupt you two lovebirds~” the ten year old responded, laughing as she skipped away. Once she was gone, J.C. sat back down on his bed, rubbing his temple a bit. “Eheh…sorry about that. Siblings…” - “Never a dull moment, huh?” she chuckled. - “Never.” he laughed. - “Sooo… What were we talking about? … Oh, right; zombies. That reminds me; I punched a zombie once… Well, someone in a zombie costume… Did I tell you about that?” - “Pffffff! I don’t think you have…how’d that come about, anyway?” - “There was this haunted house a few years back. It was pretty intense, so children were required to have an adult with them. Well, these kids really wanted to go and every other adult they asked were either busy or flat out said no… So I wound up being that adult… Well, the haunted house did its job. I was on edge the whole time and, when one of the actors put his hand on my shoulder, I whirled around and punched out of reflex. I felt so bad! I kept apologizing and I even gave him a twenty dollar bill! I know they aren’t paid to be hit, but I had to do something!” - J.C. wheezed before collapsing into a fit of giggles. “Oooooh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho my lord!  That’s aw-haw-haw-haw-haw-haw-ful! Hilarious, as well, but still! But hey, at least you apologized.” - “The kids thought it was funny too,” she chuckled a bit. “Shame I got us kicked out.” - “Aw, that bites,”  the giggles started dying down a bit. “If it’s any consolation, I can be the designated adult if you and I are ever dragged to a place like that. I may let out a high pitch screech if I’m spooked, but I don’t think I’ll karate chop someone. At least, I haven’t yet…” - Audrey chuckled. “I’d appreciate that. I’m afraid my fight or flight response is just a fight response. Not a good scaring subject.” - J.C. snickered, “On the plus side, you at least know that. Better than running into a situation blindly and all confident, then end up running away.” - “As opposed to walking in scared and beating someone up? Not sure if I agree with that… If the person is innocent, anyway… I do wonder how I’d do, should I face a genuine threat… A non human threat, I mean. I know I can take humans.” - “Oh yeah, no; punching innocent people’s never a good idea. I’d imagine if you can pack that much of an unintentional punch on someone, intentionally punching can provide quite a…pack.” He chuckled sheepishly, “I was going somewhere with that. Sounded better in my head.” - Audrey snickered. “I think I get what you’re trying to say. I do imagine I’d do more damage from an intentional hit than I would a startled reflex.” - “D-D-D-D-D-Double comboooooo!” J.C. joked, mimicking a videogame announcer, “Nice hit!” - She laughed at that, having supervised enough sleepovers to recognize a video game reference when she heard one. “Which fighting game is that?” - “Aha, I’m not entirely sure if it is one? I was trying to go something ‘Mortal Kombat’ or ‘Punch-Out!!’-esque, but other than that…” - “Mortal Kombat’s the one with the ‘Finish him!’ line and the catchy theme song, right?” - “Indeed it is. I know there are a few newer versions out, but I prefer the older, less…aaah, gory ones.” - “You mean to tell me they get even gorier?! I saw some as a teenager and they were pretty dang gory.” - “I meeean….maybe more so in the way of being more realistic with the blood and guts and everything, but if you would qualify that as ‘gorier’, then yes.” - “Ahhh, I get it. I suppose that is gorier. It doesn’t matter how much red you add to a stick figure, I’m not really going to be affected by it.” - “To each their own. I suppose.” - “Hm? What do you mean? I thought we were agreeing,” she asked, confused. - “O-oh! I’m pretty sure we still are? I-I meant that in a…different context than what the original meaning of the phrase is? You’d said something about adding as much red as you can to a stick figure and it won’t affect you. I, ah, imagine it can be different for some? That…something like that would? “ J.C. chuckled sheepishly. “I was going somewhere with that, guess my train of thought got derailed…” - “…I think I was in the train when it got derailed because I have no idea where we are,” she laughed. - J.C. snickered before breaking into a short, impromptu song, “We’re goin’ off the rails with our trains of thooooooought…~!” - Audrey’s laughter increased with the song. “Oh my gosh! You are so silly!” - Her laughter had him laughing as well…aaaaand perhaps blushing just a bit. Good to see his dorkiness came in handy outside of cheering up a grumpy sibling or a bummed out friend. “I try, my dear, I try. Just how I am, I guess!” - She giggled softly at being called ‘dear,’ finding it both silly and charming. “Well, you succeed!” she chuckled. “What were we talking about? Fighting games? Something about fighting?” - “Something like that, yeah…come to think of it, how did we even get on that topic, anyway? What were we even talking about before that?” - “I have no idea. I don’t even really play video games. See, this is why I write things down; can’t remember a thing otherwise… Well, aside from the fact that Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin. That’s about all that stuck with me from school.” - “I wouldn’t call myself a gamer, really. Kind of in the ‘I know just enough to keep myself from getting my butt completely kicked whenever one of the munchkins wants me to do a Pokemon battle with them’ camp. Maybe the occasional party game like those dancing ones, but otherwise…” J.C. chuckled, “What about ‘Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally’ for maths, or ‘Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492?’. Granted, that’s probably going back a looooong time, but hey.” - “I can play a bit of those Mario Party games, but that’s about it. I mostly button mash everything else. It’s amazing how often I win doing that…” she trailed off. “I know those too! It’s just the cotton gin thing stuck with me, for some reason. When will I ever need that information? Elementary school Jeopardy?” - “Haha, Iiiii’d imagine so. I remember when I was still in primary school, we had this ‘Bring-Your-Parent-To-School Day’ thing, and we did have something like that at one point. Kids vs. the parents. Sort of like…what’s the name of that one show? ‘Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?’. Pretty sure that show wasn’t around when I was that young, so your description’s probably more accurate.” - “I suppose you have a point there. I guess I can use it in a competition with my future kids,” she laughed. “Assuming I one day marry and have them or adopt them or what have you.” - “Same, honestly. I like to think I’ve gotten enough practice with ‘Thing 1′ and ‘Thing 2′, and having a kid of my own would be nice. It’s….different from having siblings, you actually have something that you had a hand in creating, and it’s like a little you.” He paused. “I mean…they’re obviously they’re own person, but half of their DNA is yours.” Cue a small sigh, “I dunno, having a tiny person thinking you’re the coolest thing ever for a time is a nice feeling. Kind of want to experience it on a different level than ‘older sibling-younger sibling’.” Cue another pause, then a somewhat sheepish chuckle, “That…aaaah, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you at once. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope that made at least some sense.” - Audrey giggled, pleased with his ramble. She liked the way this man thought. “Oh, no worries. I like listening to people talk about things that make them happy, especially when it’s about kids. And I know what you mean. I can’t help but wonder what a biological child of mine might look like. What traits of mine might they inherit? That sort of thing.” - “Basically a game of ‘roll the genetic dice and see what happens’, I guess. Sometimes it can be a little scary if you’ve got some potentially harmful stuff in your history, but otherwise it’s kind of cool.” A thought occurred to J.C., evidenced by the sudden change in expression on his face. “…I wonder if anyone’s ever had a child that’s exactly half of one parent and half of the other. Like one side of their head has curly hair and the other side is straight? I guess that could happen with multiples, but I don’t know about a singular child…” - “I don’t think that’s possible,” she scratched her head as she thought. “I know eyes can be two different colors, but I don’t think you can have two types of hair on the same head… Not naturally, anyway. I mean, my hair is kind of in-between Mom’s waves and Dad’s curls… Probably closer to Dad in that respect. Can’t style it very well… It’s not both though.” - “Mm.” He nodded as he listened to Audrey’s thought process. “Guess it all depends on what exactly the DNA wants to do when, for lack of a better term, building someone from scratch happens. ‘You get your mom’s eyes, your dad’s hair, the dimples of some relative a few generations back…’. Genetics are weird.” - “Tell me about it. Dad has no freckles, Mom has a few, I have a ton. Apparently, there’s some hidden super freckle gene somewhere in my family.” - J.C. chuckled, “Guess so. I don’t know a whole lot about what ran in mine, other than brown hair from my mother and…” he paused, “I know there was something on my father’s side, though what it is is escaping me at the moment…” - Audrey figured he must be having difficulty remembering as it’s been so long since his biological family was alive. Deciding it better to change the subject before he delves too deep into such a topic, Audrey thought up a distraction. “Do you remember that thing in school where you draw a square consisting of four smaller squares to figure out possible gene combinations or whatever? I forget what it’s called…” - J.C. thought for a minute; that sounded really familiar… “The thing where you put, like…uppercase ‘B’ for brown eyes and lowercase ‘b’ for blue eyes? I believe it’s a Punnett Square?” - “Yeah! That’s it! You’d think figuring out the odds of certain traits would be more complicated than drawing a few squares, but, there it is.” - He chuckled, “I know, right? Apparently, you can use them in…I believe it’s algebra, as well, but it’s a little more complicated there. ‘Square this number, multiply these two’…” - “Oh, gosh; not algebra!” she yelped in faux terror before chuckling. The two went on talking for a good while after that, but ultimately had to end the call. Finding such a thing quite enjoyable, Audrey made sure to call J.C. again… and again… and again. They’d even gotten to the point where they did video calls. It practically became a routine, but there were still interesting moments to be had. “Check it out! I got a wireless headphone microphone thingy!” Audrey chirped excitedly, waving her hand around her head to show there were no wires. “Now I can still talk to you, even if I step away from the computer a little!” - J.C. let out a playful, dramatic gasp at the reveal. “Ah, fantastique! You’re not confined to having to be close to the computer like I am.” he joked, pulling at his headphone cord a bit, “I have one of those microphones that are built into the computer, but I’m definitely planning on upgrading to a more ‘external’ one soon…seven to ten business days to be exact, should the delivery go without a hitch. Merci, online shopping~” - “Tell me about it! Present shopping has never been so convenient~ Also,” Audrey clapped, summoning Lola to jump onto the couch with her. “No more nearly knocking down the computer whenever Lola wants attention!” - J.C. chuckled at the little pup, “Ah, bonjour, Lola!” “Did you say Lola!?” came a voice from outside his door. “Can I see ‘er? Please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaase?” The older brother playfully rolled his eyes, “Oh lord, sounds like I said the magic word. You don’t mind Kat popping in for a bit, do you?” - Audrey chuckled and shook her head. “Not at all~ Let me just turn the speakers on so Lola can hear her. You like the attention, don’t you, girl~?” she cooed as she pet her head. - J.C. gave the two a small smile before turning towards his door. “Entrez!” With a small creak, in came Kat, bounding towards her brother’s bed. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about as much damage being done once she flopped onto it, as Kat was a good deal smaller than Syd. No real worries about his laptop flying off of the bed and onto the floor or the screen getting kicked in. Once she was on the bed, Kat crawled towards the webcam and made herself comfortable, smiling widely and cooing at the dog. “Hiiiiya, Lola! Hiya, Audrey!” - “Hiya, Kat!” Audrey returned the greeting as Lola stood up and wagged her tail at the excited voice. “Who’s that?” she asked playfully, getting a bark from her dog. “Yes! It’s Kat! Such a good girl~” she gave Lola a generous petting - The eight year old giggled at the dog’s response. “Kinda bites that you guys are so far away, an’ that I can’t reach through the screen an’ give her some pets…but seeing you two’s okay enough! How’ve you been?” - “I’m giving her plenty of pets for you,” she giggled, petting the dog. “Work’s been a little overwhelming here and there, but Lola and your brother have been doing a good job of helping me wind down. What about you? School treating you okay?” - “Uh-huh!”, the little girl nodded,  “Right now we’re doing our sevens times tables in maths and we’re reading Sideways Stories from Wayside School. We’re supposed to be starting this really cool science experiment next week, but I dunno what exactly it is, ‘cos our teacher’s keeping it a secret.” “Maybe you’re doing the ‘butterfly life cycle observation’ thing.” J.C. commented, “I remember doing that a few times in primary school.” - “Oooo, that sounds fun~ Glad that you’re enjoying yourself. School takes up a lot of time, so, best enjoy it, if you can. Maybe you can give Syd some pointers on that.” Syd struck her as someone who didn’t enjoy school much. - “I meeeean, I dunno what exactly it is they do in Year 6, but I can try? She likes when they do more ‘science-y’ stuff and reading more action-packed stories, than having to learn history or maths….buuuut I can try!”   J.C. smirked at his sister’s confidence. “Well, you know the saying: ‘Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it’.” - “Well… there’s a lot of action in history?” she shrugged. “Though that’s rarely a good thing in real life… And you need to know math in order to properly do science. Lots of equations and all that.” - “Yeeeeah, true. But I guess you gotta explain stuff in a way that’ll make it sound interesting with ‘er. Not totally sure how you could make maths interesting.” The older brother snickered, “Maybe if the question’s something like…’If there are 96 pieces of chewing gum in a candy machine and there are 8 friends, how many pieces does each friend get?’. Something that she can kind of relate to. Or at the very least, reword the question, but keep the same numbers.” - “I’d imagine she’d say something along the lines of, ‘Depends on who has to figure it out. They’ll get more than the rest.’ Gotta be careful with how you word these things,” she wagged a finger. - J.C. laughed, “She would. Or ‘Why would they be sharing, that’s 96 whole pieces of gum right there!’.” “I do know she likes when her class gets to do creative assignments, too.” Kat piped up, “Like when they have a spelling list, but get to write a story that uses the words in it. Or when they make a scene from something or a model in a shoe box.” “…A diorama?” “Yeah, that! She tends to make a big mess when she’s making it, but the end product’s pretty good…and she has fun doin’ it too.” - “That’s good! See, you’ve gotta focus on the good with these things. Focus on the bad and you’ll make yourself miserable. I mean, there are difficult aspects to my job, but I try to focus on the fact I’m helping people get healthy and/or stay healthy. Just remind her something good will come soon enough, you know?” - Kat gave Audrey a salute, “Can do!” “It takes a bit of patience, too.” J.C. added, “I know she wants to do some of the experiments that I did in secondary school and uni, but…well, you need to learn to crawl before you can walk, and know how to walk before you can run.” “It’s hard, though, when you’re little.” Kat piped up. “Trust me, I know. And I’m pretty sure Audrey knows too; we were both your age once.” - “Exactly,” Audrey nodded. “I used to get frustrated with what I wasn’t allowed to do, but, looking back, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t go baking a cake without learning to crack an egg first.” - “…Ssssoooo she can’t exactly go sledding down the stairs without knowing how to steer the sled first?” J.C. snickered, “I mean, in theory, yeah, but you shouldn’t be doing that anyway because you could get seriously hurt. And that’s regardless of how many pillows you’ve tied to yourself, how many you’ve put at the bottom of the stairs, and with wearing knee and elbow pads and a helmet.” - “Even if you somehow managed not to get hurt, I can’t imagine it would be much fun. I mean, it’d probably be a really bumpy ride. I’d much rather sled in the snow.” - “But then we’d have to go waaaaaaay up north if we wanted snow. It almost never comes this far south.” Kat pouted. “If you want some deep snow, yes, but I think if we a tad bit as opposed to- as you put it- ‘waaaaaaaay’, it’d be fine. Maybe even go a bit west, as well.” J.C. looked to Audrey, “How much snow would you say you get over by you?” - “How much snow?” Audrey proceeded to cackle for a good long time before holding up a finger, asking for a moment to compose herself. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat. “We just get so much snow! I mean it. A lot. A little snow for us would be two feet deep. There’s a reason we have snowplows over here.” - Kat gasped excitedly. “We gotta go to Michigan for sledding!!” J.C. sputtered, laughing a little, “So you’d be willing to take a half-a-day flight just to go sledding? Not one that’d be maybe an hour, hour and a half at most?” “Yeah! ‘Sides, you’d be able to go an’ see Audrey! Us too, obviously, but still!” - “Oh, come now, it wouldn’t just be sledding… There’s making snowmen too,” she giggled. “Not to mention the feeling of coming inside from the cold and warming up with some hot chocolate.” - “And snow angels and snowball fights!” the little girl bounced excitedly. - Audrey chuckled. “Now, now, don’t get too excited. We don’t even know if this winter visit will happen.” - “Can it, thooooough?” Kat asked, giving the two the “puppy dog pout/puppy dog eyes” combo. As much as the older brother would love that, doing so was dependent on a lot of factors.  “Iiiiiit’s a bit too early to say yes or no, sooooo…I guess we can chalk it up as a ‘we’ll see’?” - “It’s not up to me, kiddo,” she gave the child a shrug. “I’d certainly welcome you, but I can’t exactly fly you over here.” - “Awww…” “Hey, it’s not a ‘no’.” J.C. pointed out, trying to make the situation a bit more positive. - “There’s still plenty of time to figure it out,” Audrey offered. “I mean, school only started a few weeks ago over here. It’s still pretty warm out.” - “Yeah. You’re telling me you want to skip out on your birthday and Halloween and just go straight to winter?” J.C joked. Kat let out a small gasp and shook her head ‘no’. “Theeeeeeeeen you have to wait, kiddo.” - Audrey chuckled. "I’m looking forward to pumpkin spice season, myself.” - “I love fall.” J.C. sighed, thoroughly content. “Part of it being the pumpkin spice, part of it the cooler weather…” “Part of it being that you can toss me into leaf piles.” Kat added, grinning. The brother snorted, “That’s something that you love, goofball…buuuuut I do get a good laugh out of it. Next time we get a deep enough pile, you’re getting launched.” Kat responded with her arms joyously shooting upwards, and a happy “Yay!” - Audrey let out a small giggled, one of joy more than humor. She really liked seeing this man get along so well with children. This man was destined to be a father, she thought to herself as she smiled dreamily. - “Maybe if you and Syd team up, you can launch me.” he joked. Kat scoffed before laughing, “Yeeeeah, maybe not? Now, Audrey probably could! Either with us or by herself!” - The laughter snapped her out of her dreamy state and she laughed too. “I can’t guarantee a soft landing if I do.” - “He’s had worse!” Kat snickered, imagine Audrey doing just as she stated. J.C. smiled and rolled his eyes at the blonde and ruffled her hair a bit, “Alright, alriiiight…hey, did you finish your homework yet?” Kat shook her head no. “I was takin’ a break. Guess I should get back to it?” J.C. nodded, “Then when you’re done, we’ll go over it….maybe practice some of your multiplication flash cards?” “ ‘Kay….but you promised we would have a tea party after that and dinner, remember?” “Of course I do. You, me, and Mr. Bunnysworth are going over the details of the deed to your dollhouse.” The way he said it sounded so matter-of-fact. Kat giggled at her goofball brother before turning to Audrey and Lola, “Sounds like I gotta get goin’. I’ll talk you guys later!” - Audrey giggled again. These two were adorable! “Talk to you later,” she smiled and waved goodbye. Once Kat was gone, Audrey turned the sound back to her headphones. “Tea party, huh? Since you’re in England, do you have actual tea at those?” - J.C. smiled and blew a bit of air out of his nose, “Occasionally, yeah. Kind of a toss up between that or some juice. In the winter, she’ll use hot cocoa.” - Audrey chuckled. “That’s basically what we do over here. That or we just sip on air. It’s usually air, unless we’re using real cups. Those play tea cups are so tiny.” - “I know, right? You have to take teeeeeeny tiny sips if you want it to last the whole party. Like a little mouse or something.” - “Imagine if you were trying to actually hydrate with one of those,” she snickered. - “Oh jeez. If you drink out of them like a normal human being, it’s almost like doing shots.” He paused for a second. “…Oooor at least, how I imagine one would do them. Never done them myself. The occasional glass of wine on special occasions or on vacation, but otherwise…” - Audrey snorted. “I just imagined someone doing shots of tea, but instead of getting drunk, they just get more and more English!” - “Ha! I could start out sounding like this.…” He mimicked downing a few cups of tea before speaking again in a “fancier” accent: “…to something like this. And as the day goes on, it just….waters itself down.” - Audrey couldn’t help but cackle at the demonstration. Once she calmed down, she glanced at the clock and spoke again. “Oh goodness; is that the time? I need to let Lola out before she messes on the floor. Be right back!” She darted off camera to let Lola outside. While outside, her headphones were out of range of her computer, so neither of them could hear each other. With the silence, Audrey managed to forget she was wearing the headphones at all. Making her way back inside (and back in range of her computer), she sang softly to herself as she went about getting Lola a treat. - “Can’t be having that now! You two go do your thing, I’ll be over here.” As the two went off, J.C. took the time to readjust a few things with his computer, answer an e-mail, comment on a friend’s photo. His ears perked up a bit when he picked up the sound of Audrey’s voice again. Was she…? She was. He’d heard her sing once already (he had joined in, after all~), but regardless of that, she sounded lovely. Cue a bit of pink coloring his cheeks. - As she made her way back to the computer, she stopped singing and went about taking the headphones from around her neck and putting them back over her ears. “Sorry about that,” she sat back down with a smile, oblivious to the fact he’d heard her. - “Huh? Oh! Oh, it’s no big deal.” He chuckled sheepishly, “When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.” Cue the blush getting a bit more noticeable. Seemed to be that she was unaware that he could hear her… - Audrey raised her brow at this and cocked her head slightly to the side. “You feeling alright?” - Ah, crud, he’d been caught. “You, ah….” he gestured to where her headset had been. “You had forgotten to take your headset off, and I caught a bit of you singing when you came back in. N-not that that’s a bad thing! I thought i-i-i-i-it sounded lovely…” - “Oh? Oh!” she brought her fingertips to her mouth for a moment, then brought them back down with an embarrassed smile. “Ah-ha… Oops… Thank you?” - “Eheh…heh…aaaah, no problem…” Well, this was awkward. - “What were we talking about?” she twirled some hair around her fingers as she tried to distract from what had just happened. - “Tea parties and fancy accents, I believe?” J.C. answered, going back to said “fancy” accent as a joke. - Audrey tittered and the two went back to talking. As time went by, the leaves turned color, the temperature got colder, and their online chats became more frequent. “Since Halloween is right around the corner, I have an idea I want to toss out there, if you’re interested.” - J.C., currently in a rather “spooky” sweater, looked up from his hot cocoa, curious. “Shoot. What’cha got rattlin’ around in that brain of yours?” - “You know how I don’t watch horror movies because I don’t want to hurt someone on accident or watch it alone? Well, I can’t really hurt anyone if they aren’t physically in the room with me,” she grinned a bit slyly. “Could be something a bit different, you know?” - “Oooo-hoo-hoo, I like~ So! How should we start out with this? Something super tame like….well, I mean Hotel Transylvania isn’t a horror movie, but it has monsters in it…or do we go for the big guns like The Grudge?” - “I was thinking an actual horror movie. My cousin Chloe got me a nice mountain of horror movie files to choose from. She may have been a bit over zealous though,” she chuckled. “I doubt I’ll ever watch them all. Anyway, I can send the files your way and we can watch it on that Let’s Gaze website we tested out before.” - J.C. laughed as well, “Fine by me! Anything in said mountain that’s catching your eye? I’m not super picky with what we watch.” - “Chloe did mention that some of them can have a bit of humor or ridiculousness to them. What were some of them? Child’s Play… Scream… The Cabin in the Woods… Any of those sound good?” - Taking a sip of his drink as Audrey listed off a few titles, he perked up at the last one. “Oooo, Cabin in the Woods, let’s go with that.” - “I take it you like that one?” she smiled as she went about sending him a link to download the file. - “It’s actually one I haven’t seen,” he clarified, “Child’s Play and Scream, I have seen, albeit a few years ago. Figured I’d start with something ‘new’ before going towards more familiar, y’know?” - “Sounds good. When do you think you’ll have time to sit and watch a whole movie with me?” - “Mmmmm, probably sometime a little later this week? Have a few ‘autumnal’ things that are going on with the family, so I might not be able to find some free time before then. I can keep you posted, though!” - “Is it apple picking?” Audrey asked enthusiastically. “Or throwing your sisters into leaf piles? Pumpkin picking?” - “All 3~” he smiled, “Maybe some preliminary costume searching as well.” - “Ooooooo~ Sounds like you’ve got some busy days ahead of you! My mom, dad, aunts, uncles, and cousins are all going apple picking with me next week! We’re all gonna get some fresh air, pick some apples, make some apple treats… that sort of thing~” - “Ooo, sounds fun! Maybe I can suggest that to Mum and Dad; apple-flavoured stuff- rather, stuff made from apples- sounds really good right now. Plus, it can give Syd a chance to put some of her energy towards climbing some trees.” - “I can send you some recipes, if you need any,” she offered. - “Ooo, that’d be lovely, actually. Spice things up a bit in terms of autumnal snacks, you know?” - Audrey’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the concept of sharing recipes. “Oh! Oh! I have lots of recipes! What do you think you might want; pies, crisps, cobblers, muffins, cakes, cider, applesauce, fritters, breads?!” - Dang, she really DID have a lot of recipes! And they all sounded really nummy~ “Man, you weren’t kidding!” he laughed, “Hm, where do I even start? Maybe we can start with fritters and muffins and go from there.” - “Good choice~ I’ll be sure to send those your way.” She reached for her notebook off camera and jotted down a reminder. “Maybe I could add a nice apple drink recipe in there. Gotta wash those treats down with something~” - “Oo, even better. Kind of like a little bonus treat.“ - Audrey giggled at that. “A treat for your treats~” - J.C. let out a giggle as well…with an unintentional snort. Upon realizing that he had done so, his face went a bit pink. He was still smiling, though, so that was a good sign. - She didn’t comment on the snort. She didn’t want to embarrass him, especially when she did the same thing. “It’s a shame you live so far away. It’d be fun to bake together, I bet!” - He stopped for a second, a thought occurring to him. If they could talk to each other while being in two different parts of the world, what was to stop them from baking? “Unless…we do the baking, but like how we’re doing now. Find some sort of set up to where we can place our computers or phones or whatever out of the ingredient ‘splash zone’, and check on each other’s progress along the way. Baking together, but not physically together, if that makes any sense.” - “We should totally do that,” she exclaimed. “I wonder what we should make. I’d suggest an apple dish, but I don’t go apple picking until next week. Heh. Maybe we should try something simple, just to test it out?” She put a finger to her mouth in thought. “Perhaps a no-bake pumpkin pie? Still autumn themed. Do you guys have boxes of instant pudding over in England? Maybe we should make something with more common ingredients. Hmm… Oh! Pumpkin bread!” - “Oh definitely; do a test run, see how that goes, and then go from there!” J.C. agreed. “Do we have instant pu…I actually might have to check the next time I go out for groceries. Pumpkin bread might be a better option to start with, at least. I know for a fact that we have the stuff to make it here.” - “I’ll have to Google this sort of thing later,” she mused aloud. “I know you guys don’t have graham crackers over there. I’m guessing you’d use shortbread crust for pies in place of graham cracker ones…” - “Usually, yeah, or we use digestive biscuits in place of them. They may have them in the ‘’American’‘ section of a grocery store, but it depends on the store.” - Audrey nodded. “It really is wild how similar, yet different, our foods can be. I’ll try to look through my recipes for ones that are more basic. Here in the states, we tend to use shortcuts that you may not have; like instant pudding.” - “Right? And it can mean something completely different too. The kind that you’re talking about is usually called ‘custard’. If you look up ‘Yorkshire pudding’, that’s usually what we mean. Haggis is technically considered one. …English is weird.” - “Haggis?!” she asked with a weird face. “You’re right. English is weird.” She scrunched her nose. “I’m not going to lie here; if I asked for chocolate pudding and got haggis, I would be very disappointed.” - J.C. laughed, “Same, honestly. I mean, the food itself actually isn’t all that bad; it’s just the way it’s made that makes it sound gross…and…maybe some of what’s in it. To each their own, I suppose.” He shrugged, “I’ve only had it a few times that I can remember; usually when we’ve gone to visit one of my aunts up in Scotland.” - “I’ve never had it myself, but I know it doesn’t taste like chocolate pudding. Hence why I would be disappointed. I’m generally down to try anything at least once.” She thought a moment. “Scotland, huh? Is it as pretty as the pictures?” - “Always a plus.” he smiled. “I’d say so, yeah. One of my favourite places that we sometimes stop over in is Edinburgh, it’s kind of got a fairy tale-esque feel to it. Where my aunt lives is a bit further south, over in Dumfries; more of a riverside kind of town. If you go north enough in the winter, you’re able to see the northern lights, apparently. Haven’t had a chance to myself, unfortunately. I mean, we’ve been pretty far north there that time of year, but never at a point where we can catch ‘em.” - “Oh, that sounds lovely,” she smiled. “Maybe you could ask your relatives to send you pictures, since you haven’t been able to catch them yourself. Oh! Another name for the northern lights is the aurora borealis, right? Sounds all scientific that way,” she chuckled. - He laughed, “Indeed it does. …Y’know, that actually sounds like a good idea. Knowing my luck, if you and I got together just for that, there’d be a wicked snowstorm that moves in on the night we’d be seeing them.” Of course, the alternative of being all snuggled up indoors by a fireplace with some hot cocoa with her wasn’t bad. - She cocked her head slightly, a bit curious, but kept her smile all the same. How exactly did he feel about her if one of his first thoughts about the northern lights would be seeing them with her? “Well, I’m sure we’d find other things to do. Maybe hot cocoa and a crackling fire? I love those~” Seemed she had a similar mindset. - “Maybe in some comfy pyjamas, under one of those weighted blankets.” he added, goofy grin starting to sprawl across his face“…Ooooor a lightweight but super fluffy one. Either or.” - “Oooo~ Both are good! Might depend on how warm the fire makes everything.” She chuckled. “Here we go; talking about a fictional snowstorm. Our conversations sure are something, aren’t they? I was supposed to remember something…” Audrey opened her notebook. “Oh, yeah! I’m supposed to get you some recipes and find one we can both cook together!” Looking off screen, she spotted Lola. “Looks like Lola wants O-U-T and I need to look for some recipes, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?” - “Right, right! That should be fun; here’s hoping that when we do do that, the internet says running smoothly the entire time. Nothing worse that trying to get an exact amount of something from someone, and the connection starts to glitch.” At the mention of Lola, J.C. blew a bit of air out of his nose, smiling. “Haha, silly pup. You go on ahead; I’ll catch up with you later!” -End-

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

In which Zen and Hanzo have an unexpected experience.

“So, you remember when I told you the fabric of reality around here is usually a schmancy high thread count thingamabobber?” Jaime asked, as they clustered around him in the tiny oasis of normality beneath the streetlights. “Well. About two, three o’clock this afternoon, the monitors started pingin’ like mad and, uh, yeah, now the local area immediately inside your house is all dia -- diaphra -- diaphragmous? See-through like?”

“Diaphanous,” Hana replied tersely. “The word you’re looking for is diaphanous.”

“That’s the word! Thanks, chippie -- ow, ow, hey, ow, okay okay okay, I’m sorry!” He held up hands and tablet in self-defense. “Thank you, Hana. Anyway, we gathered up all the extra stabilizer stakes we had charged and called Rein and booked it up here as quick as we could. The stakes and the wards Rein rigged up are keepin’ it isolated for now but, uh, we dunno for how long. We’ve definitely got interference bleedin’ into local communications already.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” Jesse budged over to let Reinhardt join their huddle, taking the opportunity to slide his arm around Hanzo’s shoulders as he did so. “So I’m guessing it’s not going t’be safe for anyone to go in there?”

“We have been working on that,” Reinhardt rumbled. “Mako and I have tested a solution -- a ward that stabilizes the local area around its wearers, preferably two or three to create a large area of usable space.”

“And by ‘tested’ he means ‘they went inside wearin’ a pair and made me monitor the situation from outside so I could start screamin’ if they disappeared,’” Jaime clarified, still obviously aggrieved.

“He,” Roadie rumbled, gesturing a complicated gesture at Hanzo, “shouldn’t. Too close to the cause. Wards might not be strong enough.”

“His bedroom wall was where all this got started,” Genji added thoughtfully. “Hanzo, is there anything up there you absolutely couldn’t live without? Is there some way we could, like, seal it shut extra strongly?”

Hanzo leaned into the comfortingly solid warmth of Jesse’s side, and considered -- the computer and art pad he used for digital and holographic designs were expensive pieces of equipment but replaceable. So were the majority of the physical supplies, inks and watercolors and paper, that he kept on hand at home. Santa Fe contained enough thrift stores to replace his entire wardrobe if necessary. “My bow and quiver are downstairs in the sports equipment closet -- so is my gym bag. Just those. If we can ward my bedroom shut, we should.”

“And by we, we mean absolutely not you.” Genji replied sweetly. “Zen, can you do that thing you did back at the Student Union again?”

“That depends entirely upon the availability of duct tape and Sharpies but, yes, I can.” Zen offered him a faintly apologetic smile. “And I should go in first to perform the binding, just to be safe.”

“D’you honestly think we go anywhere without enough duct tape to fasten our truck’s entire frame and undercarriage back together?” Jaime asked, moderately affronted, and it was clearly a rhetorical question because a moment later a caseful was hitting the sidewalk with an emphatic thud.

Hana wordlessly dug at least six different colors and opacities of markers out of her bag and offered them up as a sacrifice. “What? I hit the bookstore when I was done with class. I had a bad feeling, okay?”

“No judgment.” Genji replied with an easy soothing grin as Zen made his selection, armed himself with three full rolls of tape, and marched toward the condo with Roadie in tow. “Wards? Wearable kind?”

“Yes! Come, we’ll get you fitted up.” Reinhardt, it seemed, approached literally everything with boundless good humor and radiant competence; Hanzo rather suspected if someone told him an asteroid capable of sterilizing the biosphere was about to hit the Earth, he’d respond with a cheerful grin and a plan that just might work.

He led them to one of the three trucks taking up approximately four hundred percent of their allotted curbside parking: a flatbed pickup truck obviously cobbled together from the frames of at least two pre-modern-technology vehicles, sun-faded and rust-speckled, mounted to a hover rig by means that probably wouldn’t stand up to close inspection and might not survive actual aerodynamic hover forces, flanked by not one but two trucks that looked for all the world like home repair/landscaping contractor vehicles, which he supposed was a reasonable enough approach for itinerant craftworkers in disguise. Reinhardt opened the side-panel of the truck he had clearly arrived in, internal lights flickering on as it folded out to reveal a collection of bog standard tools and tool boxes firmly mounted to internal magnetic brackets.

“I actually am a mechanical engineer,” Reinhardt grinned at them, flipped a few more switches, and the side panel continued unfolding in a way that emphatically denied the reality of physical space restrictions, containing rank upon rank of drawers and shelves labeled in neatly precise script, holding components and finished pieces alike, some enormous and obviously meant to be hung on mounts even larger yet, some exquisitely tiny and delicate, an entire worktable, its surface etched in complex diagrams, drafting tools and equipment clipped to the edges, storage caskets racked together beneath the drawers.

The wearable wards were on the smaller end, emerging from one of the caskets, Reinhardt handing each of them one as they clustered around him. “They are more durable than they look but I would not suggest hitting one with a hammer if you could avoid it. They produce a more individual focused variation of Jaime’s reality stabilization matrix and draw some of their strength from their wearers and more from proximity to others of their same kind. Stay close to one another when you go inside.”

Hanzo tapped one of the wards -- a small disk, its surface inscribed with a complex sequence of curves and lines and angles, exterior edge an unbroken line of letters? Runes? Something vaguely literary in a language he absolutely did not recognize. “Is this...fast curing craft clay?”

“It is, my friend! Good eye.” Reinhardt clapped him hard enough on the shoulder to shift the entire group sideways six inches. “Some particularly bloody-minded purists argue against using such materials but, between us, in situations where time is of the essence, the results are just as good as spending six days scribing on disks of bone or metal, especially if the wards need only last so long.”

“I can believe that,” Hanzo agreed, having witnessed first hand what Zen could accomplish on the fly, and clipped the band around his wrist. The throbbing spiky pain in his chest dulled, almost immediately, to a fretful ache, and he drew his first unobstructed breath in a solid ten minutes. “It -- my chest hurts less.”

Reinhardt and Roadie exchanged a glance and Roadie took him gently be the elbow, guided him out of the group and to the cab of Reinhardt’s truck. “Sit. Truck’s warded, too. Don’t look when we open the door.”

Hanzo took a shivery breath. “Okay.” He pulled out his tablet, reflexively checked email and messages, looked anywhere but at the house as his family quietly discussed among themselves who was going first and how long they’d be allowed to stay inside. They had, perhaps unsurprisingly, attracted more than a little attention and he murmured, sotto voce, “Neighbors are filming.”

“Of course they are, because our neighbors are relentless busybodies with nothing better to do with their lives!” Genji raised his voice enough for most audio pickups to catch it, and then dropped back down to normal. “You want me to get your hamper out of the laundry room? I’m pretty sure you’ve got some unwashed clothes in there yet.”

“Please.” He offered his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Be careful. That sounds so...stupid? Inadequate? Both?”

“Heartfelt. The word you’re looking for is heartfelt.” Genji grinned and closed the cab door, mouthed stay here, and made his way up the sidewalk to the front steps, where the door was beginning to open.

Hanzo forced himself to look away, thumbed open his library and picked a book at random, spent the next interminable period of nerve-wracking eternity reading the same page approximately a hundred and forty thousand times. He didn’t have to look because, despite the wards, a thread of ice dripped down his spine every time someone opened the condo door and he sat, tense with dread, until he heard their voices again, the sounds of suitcases and storage trunks and gear carriers thumping into place in the back of the pickup, Hana arguing for or against something with clearly audible vigor, Lucio’s husky laughter, Genji’s very best lazily unconcerned drawl that in absolutely no way successfully concealed the depths of his unease, Zenyatta calm and even and serene as only he could be, no matter the circumstances.

“Hanzo!” Hana yanked the door cab door open and only twenty years of finely honed reflexes that he hadn’t entirely allowed to go to pot in the last few saved him from hitting the ground with a total absence of grace. “Jeez, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were leaning on it.”

“That’s okay,” Hanzo accepted the hand Jesse, materializing at his side, offered to boost himself back to his feet. “It’s dark. What’s the problem?”

“Tell them I don’t have to put Tokki in the back of that...that...thing.” Hana gesticulated one-handed and just short of frantically at the truck.

“Tokki? Who’s --” It took a moment for the reality of what he was seeing to filter all the way into his mind but, gradually, he realized that Hana’s entire other hand, in fact her whole arm, was wrapped around an enormous pink something, something a solid four inches taller than she was, something that probably out-weighed her, too, something that looked like the unholy offspring of a torrid affair between a fuzzy pink fairground toy and a Gundam dakimakura. “What. What is that. How do you wash it. How.”

“You really need to do that little rising-falling thing with your voice when you’re trying to ask a real question, Hanzo.” Hana replied tartly. “This is Tokki, he’s very old, I brought him from home, and he is absolutely not riding in the truck.”

“There won’t be enough seats for everybody in the van if he doesn’t ride in the truck.” Genji pointed out in tones of sweet reason as he hefted the last of his own luggage into place. “Back me up here, aniki.”

“I’ll ride back in the truck with Jaime and Mako if you like, Hana.” Hanzo replied gravely. “You’re right, something so venerable and well-loved should not be subject to such an indignity.”

“I don’t know if I should punch you for making fun of me or hug you for agreeing with me.” Hana admitted and then settled for doing both. “Best big brother.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Hanzo agreed and waved her off. “Go on before I regret my munificence.”

“That was not the backup I expected.” Genji threw his hands in the air and walked away, muttering under his breath, to help Hana get her giant pink monstrosity aboard.

“I’d’ve offered to put him in the van’s storage but, uh, I don’t think he’d fit.” Jesse admitted and smiled down at him. “That was good of you -- she was actually pretty upset about it.”

“Given the expense and effort it must have taken to transport it from Korea, it must be very dear to her.” Hanzo replied quietly. “I trust everything went well?”

“Better than I thought they would, honestly.” For the first time, Hanzo realized he was wearing his weapons, gun-belt slung around his hips clipped with extra ammunition and less immediately identifiable objects of a potentially violent nature. “Wards worked like a charm and Doc Tekhartha’s got your bedroom door bound up like a frat house prank with extra magic just for giggles. And I have your things stashed in the van.”

“Thank you. It would be a genuine pain in the ass to have to replace my bow.” Hanzo smiled crookedly. “I may have some experience when it comes to the expense and effort of keeping beloved things close.”

“Archery, hmm? I admit, I’d wondered.” Jesse grinned, dark eyes glinting. “Strong hands and shoulders, lots of well-kept muscle, and you don’t strike me like the type to spend a lot of hours a week liftin’ weights.”

“And you’d be right because that’s the most boring form of exercise known to man.” Hanzo found a grin lurking at the corners of his own mouth and let it stay. “Great-Uncle Toshiro taught an entirely different regimen and Genji graciously assists me in maintaining it, though I do most of my target shooting at this little sporting goods place just at the city limits. The only place I’ve found with indoor and outdoor ranges for archery as well as firearms.”

“Navarro’s? Oh, yeah. Know ‘em well. They’re my supplier for some of the more normal stuff I keep on hand for survival caches -- not a craftworker among them, but they’re good people.” Oh so casually Jesse reached for his hand. “Maybe we could make a night of, uh, going there sometime.”

“If you two idiots could stop flirting for five whole seconds and help we might be able to get out of here sometime tonight.” Genji suggested, entirely loud enough for everyone up and down the street on both sides as far as the eye could see to overhear.

Hanzo, just barely, managed not to melt into a puddle of liquid humiliation as at least a few of the neighbors sent up a cheer in response to this intelligence. “We should probably help.”

“I’ll help you find a place to bury him where no one will ever find him later, if you want?” Jesse suggested but nonetheless immediately moved to help sort out the increasingly elaborate Jenga puzzle of everyone’s belongings, at least some of which were delicately electronic and quite probably highly experimental.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hanzo murmured in reply and took up station on the periphery of the increasingly contentious gathering, inserting suggestions as seemed appropriate, and as he stood became aware of a slow icy drip sliding down his spine and a sharp, cold pulse beneath his breastbone.

When had he taken the ward off? He couldn’t remember -- his wrist still felt its comforting embrace but when he looked down it simply wasn’t there, gone as if it had never been.

And when had he started walking towards the house? He had no conscious recollection of that, either, of when he’d begun obeying the relentless cold tension in his chest, like a line drawn taut, pulling at him like a fish well on the hook.

Behind him, he heard Jaime say, rather distinctly, “Uh, gang? You might wanna look at this.” And, beneath his voice, a frantic low-toned beeping.

He wanted to speak -- he wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue was pinned flat to the inside of his mouth and his teeth were welded together and his legs would not stop moving as he took the steps in two strides. Before him, the condo’s security access pad flicked from red to green, the locks slotted back into their mounts, and the door slowly, slowly cracked open, a thin slit of unrelieved darkness.

No. It took all his strength to articulate that thought, as his hand reached for the door handle, to open it further, to step inside.

Behind him, the steady monotone beepbeepbeepbeep of Jaime’s machinery sped up and grew louder BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP and through it heard a voice, more than one voice, raised in alarm, calling his name. But the metal of the door handle was cold -- burning cold, cold beyond anything nature could claim -- against the palm of his hand, throbbing against his breastbone, forcing the breath out of his lungs in heavy streams of frost.

And, again, he said, “no” only aloud this time, soft, thin, and it took what was left of his strength to yank the door shut, slamming it hard into its frame and his free palm against the lock plate. He felt the tension holding him, the relentless pull, snap like an over-stressed line and he staggered backwards, scrambled on the edge of the steps, caught himself on the railing as several pairs of arms tried to catch him from behind, and mostly succeeded.

“Hanzo --” Genji, that was Genji, arm wrapped tight across his chest, his chest which was no longer filled with an icy throbbing ache.

“Darlin’ --” And that was Jesse, catching hold of his arm, gently cradling the hook-fingered claw of his hand. “Easy, l’il brother, he’s hurt.”

“Get him away from the door.” And that was Zenyatta, and received immediate obedience from all three of them as through their combined efforts they got him turned away and back down to the sidewalk.

He was only mildly surprised to find he needed it -- his legs felt like rubber bands twisted and stretched nearly to breaking and his insides like freshly melted ice water and his head spun with exhaustion, as enervated as if he’d just run a marathon. Between them, Genji and Jesse settled him in the shotgun seat of Reinhardt’s truck, cab lights turned on as Zen examined his hand. “Where is your ward?”

“I’m...not certain?” Hanzo admitted, light-headedly. “I don’t remember taking it off. I --”

“Here,” Hana elbowed her way past his brother and his ranger, holding the band out for Zen’s perusal.

The ward was cracked cleanly across, only the wad of epoxy underneath it holding its pieces together, the magnetic clasp corroded to crumbling bits, the band itself dry and cracked. As Zen took it, it finished falling entirely to pieces, striking the sidewalk in rapidly decomposing bits.

“Too close,” Zen muttered. “We should have sent you back to the hacienda.” He snapped open the first aid case Rein set at his feet, pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves, and began applying something wonderfully soothing to the reddened, blistered skin striping his palm.

“Maybe, Doc, but maybe not.” Jaime interjected. “‘Cause whatever he just did? It caused the anomaly to go pop. Shut down just as it was cyclin’ to its widest aperture.”

“Did you do something?” Genji asked, flicking a glance holding distinctly murderous intent over his shoulder at the house. “Did it do something to you?”

“I felt...called. Pulled.” Hanzo reached up with his free hand and scrubbed his aching, weary eyes. “Not a voice just...an impulse I couldn’t resist, like when I --” He stopped, breathed peace, continued. “Exactly like when I tore Zen’s wards off in the Student Union. I couldn’t stop myself, until I came to the door -- it wanted me to open it, to go inside but I...made myself not do that.”

“I’ll send you the data the sensors picked up.” Jaime flicked open a few screens, started a download. “‘Cause I’d like all your thoughts. But it looks to me like the anomaly was drawin’ power from him and when he cut it off, it couldn’t sustain itself any longer.”

“Too close,” Zen reiterated, as he finished taping bandages in place. “Reinhardt, if you would be so good as to take him back to the hacienda, right now, we will be directly behind you.”

“Of course, Doctor. Seatbelt, my young friend, and sit back. We will be home before you know it.”

***

Hanzo drowsed most of the way back to Cerrillos and woke much the better for it, enough so that he insisted on helping where he could, schlepping lighter items that wouldn’t tear the bandages off his hand before Terrifying Smoke Gabe insisted they stop for dinner. “It’s not going anywhere, the truck can sit overnight in the service garage, you’ve all done enough for one day. Come inside.”

Significantly more than just dinner that greeted them: it was the hacienda’s actual dining room, opened up for the first time since their arrival, a table to sit twenty laid out with exquisitely painted plates and gleaming silver and glasses of something pale yellow and fizzy, two enormous pans of enchiladas montadas, platters of tamales and flautas and chile rellenos, a crock of tortilla soup gently steaming next to a stack of earthenware bowls, a chafing dish of fruit salad sitting on ice, bowls of guacamole and salsa and extra cheese. At the far end, Hot Vampire Jack and Badass Granny Ana leaned against one another, half-dozing, bestirring themselves only when the noise of everyone trooping inside became too much to ignore.

Hot Vampire Jack cracked open one eye and muttered, “Frankly, I blame the lot of you for reactivating all his maternal instincts. On the other hand, I almost have to thank you because his empty nesting was about to result in a murder.”

“I made the prickly pear lemonade spritzer,” Ana added, not even bothering to open her eye. “You’re welcome.”

“We really have been adopted by supernatural entities living in a ghost town in the desert,” Hana observed, struck by what appeared to be fairly legitimate awe.

“Yes,” Hanzo agreed, pulling out a chair for her.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Amari? You look beat.” Lucio touched her shoulder gently. “Can I get you a plate?”

“That unholy fiend worked us like dogs,” Mrs. Amari replied, quavery and exhausted, reaching up to pat Lucio’s hand. “Such a good boy you are. I only wish I had a grandson like you before I go to meet my ancestors.”

“Are you trying to guilt trip my kid with that?” Terrifying Smoke Gabe misted in through the kitchen door carrying an armful of crocks and a condiment caddy. “Also: don’t listen to her, she was in charge of juicing lemons.”

“Juicing lemons is a very strenuous task for a woman of my advanced years,” Mrs. Amari replied loftily and accepted the bowl that Lucio handed to her. “Thank you, young man.”

Multiple sets of searing crimson eyes opened for the sole and express purpose of rolling at her. “Make yourselves comfortable, there’s plenty for everybody and -- what happened to your hand?”

An inky misty tentacle wrapped around Hanzo’s wrist, quite a bit warmer than he’d imagined it would be the first time he saw them, and reeled him over for examination, the bandages a bit roughened from hauling things but bearing no signs of seepage or blood. “Uhm. I’m not entirely sure myself,” Hanzo replied in what he hoped was a soothing tone of mildly alarmed squeak.

“An energy discharge of some sort at the condo -- his palm was burnt.” Zen mercifully interceded on his behalf.

“And by ‘energy discharge’ he means our boy here might have closed the spatial anomaly at the house just by tellin’ it to go away and layin’ hands on it.” Jamie added helpfully. “I’ll dump the readings I took after supper.”

“It wasn’t that exciting,” Hanzo demurred and earned himself a multi-eyed roll of his very own as Terrifying Smoke Gabe waved him off to his seat, where a plate filled by both Jesse and Genji awaited him.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack replied, dryly. “What happened?”

Hanzo heroically stuffed a flauta in his mouth to avoid having to go first but, as it happened, Jaime was more than happy to tell the tale and his body, now reminded by his taste buds that food was good and that he hadn’t actually had any since breakfast, insisted that he address that deficiency immediately and in mass quantities. He was midway through his third fully stuffed plate when he began hearing the words “....and then we all saw Hanzo walkin’ up to the house and the door startin’ to open…” and realized that he was going to have to stop inhaling calories long enough to speak and that quite literally everyone at the table was watching said inhalation with varying levels of knowledgeable amusement and borderline alarm.

“Uhm.” Hanzo said, setting his silverware down and dabbing the corners of his mouth with what had to be someone’s grandmother’s linen napkin, “I...wasn’t entirely operating under my own recognizance at that point -- moving without wanting to move, reaching for the door without wanting to reach for it. Something wanted me to touch it, to open it and I --” He took a breath, closed his eyes, as the memory washed over him, Jesse’s arms sliding comfortingly across his shoulders. “I refused. I said that I would not and closed it and --” He held up his injured hand, “This happened but the compulsion ceased at once.”

“And the anomaly collapsed pretty much immediately, too.” Jaime finished.

“And now he’s eating like he’s got two empty legs,” Jack observed meditatively.

“Interesting development,” Ana agreed, sipping her drink with a twinkle in her eyes.

“What these two tricksters are pucking around about is the use of some gifts can really take it out of the craftworker, physiologically speaking, and after particularly grueling spellwork you can feel like eating a horse. And, depending on your capabilities and needs, you might try.” Gabe shook his head at them. “You spent some power tonight, kid, and your body is demanding that you put it back in.”

“Spoilsport.” Ana literally, actually stuck her tongue out at him. “That’s why we usually have a hearty brunch before we try anything too enthusiastic these days. Reinhardt and I are not getting any younger -- our ability to draw on our physical resources for extra strength is not what it once was. Jack and Gabriel have their own hungers to feed when  they are forced to exceed even their much greater limits. I strongly suspect that you are experiencing that need.”

“If the anomaly was caused by the Serpent-Wolf,” Zen murmured in the tone of one speculating aloud, “it may be using its connection to the magatama we found to circumvent the defenses we built around the condo -- we did bring Hanzo dangerously too close if that is the case.”

Hanzo swallowed the mouthful of soup he’d taken. “That wasn’t your fault. None of you could have known.”

Zen acknowledged the point with a graceful inclination of his head. “And you being strong enough to break its attempt to dominate you was not something it could have known. Now it does, and that increases the risk to you.” A fractional pause. “In Dr. Saddind-Maas’ absence, do you have reason to go back to campus right now? If not, you should probably stay here, where the defenses are more consistent and robust.”

Genji choked, swallowed, croaked, “Wait, wait, what?”

“Dr. Saddind-Maas appears to be missing,” Hanzo admitted reluctantly, around the remains of a fifth tamale. “I was, uh, questioned about the last time I saw her this afternoon --”

“Questioned?” Genji asked, and flicked a look at Zen. “You were, too, weren’t you?”

“I believe I said as much,” Zen replied, displaying such deft rhetorical evasion skills that Hanzo was briefly envious.

“You said that campus security had asked you about the Student Union --” Genji stopped, exchanged glances with Lucio and Hana. “The MiBs? Are they involved here somehow? Trying to make connections? Because we all know the campus rent-a-cops don’t have enough between their ears to fire up a light bulb much less the imagination necessary to put what’s actually going on here together.”

“One of the people who spoke to Hanzo was the head of security for TALON -- gave her name as Amelie Lacroix.” Jesse replied, hesitated fractionally. “The other one was Chase Whitehawk, acting in his capacity as an agent of the TSS.”

Across the table, Jack, Ana, and Reinhardt all went totally still in three completely separate and disturbing ways. Very deliberately, Jack took a sip of his soup, set it down, and said, “I’m still working on digging out more details about TALON -- my usual resources are markedly reluctant to share intel on them, which in and of itself says something. The Lacroix thing, though? That’s...not good.”

“The Lacroix are a family of vessenjaegers,” Reinhardt added, his tone freighted with a concern all the more disturbing coming as it was from him. “Monster hunters, witch hunters, greatly feared for centuries and with good reason. They are killers without peer.”

“The Whitehawks are much the same -- they’re a clan whose purpose has always been to protect the people from the naayéé, and they take that duty seriously.” The corner of Jesse’s mouth quirked back, the expression there and gone again, and Hanzo took his hand beneath the table, squeezed it gently. “Those forces making common cause, at the direction of unknown parties...well. I’m not sure that bodes well for anybody.”

“Not likely, no.” Jack replied flatly. “I’ll lean a bit harder where I can, open some other lines of inquiry. Otherwise, I tend to agree with the good doctor on the issue of Hanzo staying here in town for the time being.”

“I do have other classes, you know,” Hanzo said, aggrieved.

“Yes, but you can’t pass any of them if you die or have your soul eaten or your body stolen,” Terrifying Smoke Gabe pointed out sweetly. “And there are things you can do here to minimize the possibility of that outcome in the meantime.”

“...Point.” Hanzo was forced by native honesty to admit. “I can do most of my Instructor Aesthetics in Art Education work from here, too.”

The initial expression on Genji’s face, as he opened his mouth, suggested he was going to say one thing only to have his train of thought unexpectedly derailed, explosively, and sent plunging over the edge of a potentially bottomless ravine. “...I didn’t know you were taking education track courses.”

“It seemed a reasonable alternative to starving artistry,” Hanzo replied wryly. “Though I’m finishing that approach first -- Dr. Saddind-Maas thought it would be detrimental to studio program to fully commit to a second degree while one was already in progress.”

“You are a fucking masochist.” Genji informed him. “But, for the record, I think you’d make a good teacher -- I mean, you were a thousand orders of magnitude more patient with everybody back home and I’d have been. They’d still be looking for all the body parts if I had to teach Goro’s kids how to do anything.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo replied, absurdly touched.

“You’re welcome.” Genji smiled sweetly. “How long has your flaky thesis advisor been missing?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” And at Genji’s flat look, “I don’t know for certain -- the two that interrogated me didn’t allow that information to slip. She has not, however, responded to the text I sent her this morning and the last communications I have from her were all sent on Saturday. She was...considering going to the condo.”

“So she might be actually, legitimately missing.” Genji said into the thoughtful silence around the table. “Or she could be shacked up somewhere with that Bob Ross clone who’s always telling the CS students they need to go outside and make a pot or something with her phone turned off.”

“Yes, exactly.” Hanzo looked down to discover his plate empty again and his stomach not immediately agitating for more and settled for sipping his lemonade.

“So we’re not going to panic yet.” Genji leaned back in his chair and glanced at Lucio and Hana. “I’ve got my usability testing practical tomorrow afternoon and lectures in the morning. You two?”

“Composition and rhetoric paper presentation in the morning, digital research seminar in the afternoon -- I’m not going to be out of class until close to seven.” Hana pulled out her tablet. “I might be able to ditch the seminar, the paper’s already been submitted, and my presentation on that one isn’t until Thursday at the earliest.”

“Lectures all day for me and for the next several -- my next presentation isn’t until Friday. That’d be the advanced sound design for digital media project I was working on with Cora before she actually disappeared.” Lucio glanced around the table. “D’you...think it might be risky for us to go to school with these MiBs lurking around?”

“Maybe?” Hot Vampire Jack answered. “It’d definitely look suspicious if you all dropped off the face of the Earth simultaneously.”

“True.” Genji sighed. “Look, the best we can do is hang close together, stay in contact with the hacienda, and call for help if we need it. If any of us get cornered alone, we answer their questions to the best of our ability, but we legit don’t know anything.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lucio agreed and Hana nodded, frowning at her tablet.

Hanzo was excused that evening from after dinner chores by virtue of his wounded hand (“It’s not that badly wounded!”) and instead set to the task of sorting his own admittedly somewhat neglected laundry hamper and putting on a load to wash. It would, he admitted without shame, be nice to wear clothes that weren’t some variation of sweats and a tee-shirt again, even if the variation was only cargo pants, and to have his own pyjamas and underwear for bed. He set the machine, a high efficiency water recycling model, then wandered into the sitting room with the idle thought of restarting his book again, only to be ambushed by Zenyatta, carrying a much larger and more comprehensively supplied first aid kit.

“Sit,” Zen said in a tone close enough to a command that Hanzo, trained from the cradle to obey reasonable authority figures, immediately planted himself on the couch. “Let me see your hand -- the field dressing I used probably won’t stay put through the night.”

“Really, it’s not that bad,” Hanzo insisted, as Terrifying Smoke Gabe materialized to observe the proceedings.

“It was visibly blistering,” Zen countered, exasperated, as he carefully peeled off the last layer of bandaging and reached for a packet of delicately fragrant, likely exceedingly magical wet wipes. “It has to be -- oh. Oh my.”

The messy blistered blotch that had marred his right palm was significantly less of both -- the skin still reddened, as though he’d set his hand against something hot, and raised slightly, but not as if it were blistered. Instead it was a visible pattern: a near-perfect circle on the pad below the right index finger, a curving series of ridges across the palm below that resembled nothing so much as roiling stormclouds, jagged lightning crawling among their swirls.

Hanzo spoke for all of them when he said, “What fresh Hell is this?”

“Doesn’t look that Hellish to me, kid,” Terrifying Smoke Gabe observed from his perch on the back of the couch. “And, trust me, I speak with a certain quantity of direct personal experience on that score. Does it hurt?”

“Not...really?” He flexed his fingers and while the skin on his palm pulled a bit with the motion there wasn’t even much of a sting left. “We’re all seeing this as a pattern, right?”

“Yes,” Zen confirmed as he took gentle possession of Hanzo’s wrist and carefully applied a cool, damp wipe to it, then looked again.

The patterning didn’t wipe away but the red visibly faded and the swelling went down almost at once, clarifying the details so nicely that, when Genji strolled in squabbling good naturedly with Lucio and Hana, she could stop, lean over the arm of the couch, and say, “Hey! I’ve seen that somewhere before.”

His hand immediately became the central point of focus of the entire cluster as his brother and Lucio joined them, Genji giving him a narrow-eyed look containing a massive sibling concern storm and Lucio adding, “I’ve seen it too but I can’t remember where.”

“The genealogy chart.” Genji added, concern doing a little dance with realization on his face. “It was on the genealogy chart -- I remember it, too.”

“Really? I don’t --” And then he did, or thought he did, and dug around in his bag with his free hand, pulling out his tablet and pulling up the relevant files, poking through them until he came up with the mon of unknown origin/function list. “I’ll be damned.”

“Please don’t say that,” Genji replied not at all serenely. “Fifteen instances across both halves of the clan, over a thousand years -- including our missing warrior-woman.” He pulled up the list of holders. “And of course there’s no detailed information about how they came to be awarded it or possess it or why.” He paused, traced his fingers over the list. “Kazutaka had it, too.”

“That’s more often than not the truth of many of the older aspects of the clan’s history -- before we settled permanently in Hanamura, we carried our history on our backs.” Hanzo smiled wryly. “Bits and pieces got lost along the way.”

“Inconvenient that this was one of them.” Genji traced his fingertips over the mark. “There’s, like, a zero percent chance that this isn’t significant in some way, right?”

“It is extremely unlikely.” Zen replied, closing up the case, and taking Hanzo’s hand in both his own. “I thought it looked like ward-burn back at the condo -- that can happen when warding energies ground themselves through a physical conduit. But it may be more than that.”

“The spatial anomaly collapsed when he closed the door -- apparently to the second, from what you were saying, and Jaime’s data pretty much supports the conclusion.” Gabe replied thoughtfully. “You sense any residuals, Dr. Tekhartha?”

Three of Zenyatta’s orbs curled themselves into existence around them, glowing gently and chiming as they were wont to do, as he closed his eyes, a little concentration mark forming between his brows. Hanzo forced himself to relax, to breathe normally, to let his hand rest lightly in Zen’s and he was not entirely sure where the lightning-stroke-bright flash came from, his palm or Zen’s orbs, or the flare of purple, deeper and more vivid than any natural light, but the shockwave definitely forced their hands apart, and then the rest of them, and the next time Hanzo was aware enough to realize what was going on around him he was laying sprawled on his back between Genji and Terrifying Smoke Gabe on the sitting room’s exquisite hardwood floor, staring up at the definitely supernatural plasterwork of the ceiling, itself crackling with lightning-silver-eye wateringly-painful-violet threads of energy, rapidly dispersing. His skull was ringing like a selection of Lucio’s tuning forks, each set to a slightly different pitch, he was pretty sure a portion of his brain was trying to ooze out of his ears, and his hand ached from the tips of his fingers all the way to the elbow.

Next to him, Terrifying Smoke Gabe pushed himself up on his elbows, surveyed the wreckage of the living room and asked, “What the fuck just happened?”

“I...don’t know. Genji?” Hanzo reached over and gave his brother, dazed and blinking rapidly as he came back to his senses, a careful shake. “Are you okay?”

“What -- that was -- I’ve only seen that --” Genji bit down on what he’d been about to say, started scrambling to his feet, couldn’t quite manage it and sat down hard again. “Where’s Zen?”

The heavy couch they’d all been sitting on was laying on its back, throw pillows thrown, cushions askew. The end tables were likewise located far afield from their previous positions, at least one lamp smashed, the other tipped over but still alight, casting bizarre and vaguely threatening shadows across the wall and ceiling, along with the weirdly flickering violet light still emanating from beyond the tipped-over furniture.

“Zen?” Hanzo heaved himself to his feet one-armed, his skull slowly ceasing its suture-threatening vibrations, offering his good hand to Gabe as, in the near distance, dogs began barking and footsteps thumped across the floor and voices raised in alarm became clearly audible.

“Here,” For the first time in ever, or at least as long as Hanzo could remember, Zenyatta did not sound some species of serenely in control of himself, “I am here.”

He was, in fact, planted against the far wall next to the fireplace, folded around himself, his head in his hands. Scintillating filaments of purple flickered under his skin, girdling his fingers and wrists in patterns that pressed themselves into the backs of Hanzo’s eyes, stomach-churning with their intensity, as he made his way around the couch toward him. “Are you okay? What --”

“Wait.” He flug out a hand, palm up, and Hanzo froze where he stood. “Just...just a moment.”

The filaments marking his palm with a pattern not unlike an open, slit-pupiled eye flared and faded from the outside in, peeled away from his fingers and flowed up his arm and away and by the time Hot Vampire Jack burst in with Lucio and Hana and the pack in tow, he was mostly himself again, weary and slightly dazed and unnaturally out of sorts, a little ashy from the fireplace tools he’d slammed into, his eyes a washed-out dull gray. Jesse paused in the doorway and immediately crossed to his side, offering him a steadying hand as Genji helped Zen up, unsteadily, to his feet.

“I take this to mean,” Terrifying Smoke Gabe asked dryly, as he and Lucio and Hana righted the couch and got Zen settled on it, “that there were some remnant energies?”

“Yes,” Zenyatta replied, slightly brittle around the edges, and accepted the cup of tea Jack handed to him. “I am...not entirely certain why they reacted as strongly as they did but…” Zen looked up and caught his eyes, smiled with such ridiculously warm reassurance that Hanzo felt himself responding completely, comfort mingled with relief and gratitude. “Hanzo, I believe that you did close the door attempting to open there, in every possible and literal sense.”

Hanzo clutched Jesse’s hand, forced himself to reply calmly and evenly, “My gifts...do you think they are…?”

“I think,” Zenyatta replied carefully, “that you still possess an abundance of will, and of knowledge, and that you may finally be healing from the injury done you all those years ago. How this is tied to the Serpent-Wolf, or the magatama within you, or your bond with Ranger McCree, are questions we will have to answer sooner rather than later. But, for now, I think we should all rest and approach them with fresh eyes and minds, tomorrow. I, for one, have a wretched headache.”