#i had a gift card so that’s why i watched it twice

[ghostskyee]

ive already seen barbie twice and i could watch it a million times more if money wasn’t real

[screampied]

gojo planned to confess his love to you on valentine’s day.

he had the entire thing set, he was anxious, pondering just what your reaction might be. you were forever on his mind — even now, he was picturing your smile, imagining you returning the words and accepting your gifts. his heart swooned at the thought, the feeling of you finally returning your feelings to him. he’s had a deep love for you as long as he could remember.

“she’s gonna say it back, she’s gonna say it back.”

he repeated those words in his head like a mantra.

just the thought of your name made gojo’s heart race at such a speed. he was in love with you. he figured today would be the perfect time to tell you, smother you with compliments, decorate pretty roses in your hair and maybe snag a polaroid picture with you to keep in the back case of his phone.

although, once he finally meets up with you, he’d never know how foolish he really could have been.

you’d be somewhere outside by yourself, perhaps sitting on the grass and soaking in the humid sun with the most gorgeous relaxed expression. he texted you prior that he wanted to tell you something, very subtlety.

he felt his heart beat pick up at the sheer sight of you—you were so effortlessly pretty. trapped in your own little world. gojo trods his feet up to you, hiding his hands behind his back with a gift he had prepared for you. it was a necklace with a bunch of your favorite candies inside. he also had a cheesy card that read, “do you have a name? or should i just call you mine.”

it made him snort, he found the idea off of google.

as he kept making his way towards you, dragging his feat, he’s repeating his sappy speech a million times in his head. he straightened his tie, reaching for his pocket to grab a rose out of his pocket before he stopped once he saw geto approach you …

with a kiss.

gojo had a slow reaction, he felt like his breath got snatched from his chest. a tough snatch to where he could barely breathe. geto stroked a thumb against your chin before after a few brief seconds, he pulls away. you smiled at him before geto surprised you with a big box of what appeared to be a gift.

“oh..” gojo mutters, feeling trapped, as if his feet was stuck in place. you looked so happy, he started to feel stupid. he’s so ensnared into his own loud screaming thoughts that he doesn’t even realize that you’re standing in front of him now.

“satoru. hey. you wanted to talk to me about something?” you utter, glancing up at him, wondering why his body language was so awkward and stiff.

his jaw tightened before he blinks twice, sighing out a soft. “huh? oh that—oh, it’s uh, nothing,” and then he forces a fake smile on his face. he was too late to win your heart, and it costed his own to be shattered into a million glass pieces.

“are you sure?” you pry.

he gives you a nod, and you literally slip from his fingers the minute you turn your heels to walk away. gojo felt numb, tears started to swell into his eyes as he brought the gift up to his chest.

a single tear runs down his cheek as he watches you walk off into the sunset with geto, cursing to himself mentally that that should have been him. he had a force smile, because in the end — at least you were happy.

“happy valentine’s day,” he sniffles, knowing the true meaning of heartbreak at that particular moment. “i still love you.”

[bg-brainrot]

Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach. 

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments. 

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body. 

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare. 

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it. 

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

__

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away. 

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

__

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress. 

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?” 

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle. 

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears. 

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for. 

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

__

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks. 

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered– 

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent. 

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

__

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours. 

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose… 

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you. 

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

[bambikisss]

Congratulations :: Song Mingi + Choi San

🎶: One of the girls - The IDOL

📙: After debuting at number one for your 1st album, you decide to rent out a club to celebrate. While that was your idea of celebrating, your best friends San and Mingi have other ideas on how to

⚠: Honestly smut without plot, public, biting, anal, threesome, oral (m + f), nicknames (baby, beautiful, whore), riding, 69, multiple creampies

Bambi's notes: HI! I'm back from a break. I wanted to get back into the flow of writing, and I love a good Mingi/San fic, so here we are. Also, this is smut with a sprinkle of plot, <3

REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOME AND ENCOURAGED

"And everyone, let's raise a glass to the woman who's album is already raking in 30 million dollars day of debut!" You smiled at the back of the club, raising your glass with everyone as they cheered for you, the red lights hitting your best friend who stood on stage. Your eyes moved over San's tough figure, his open suit jacket and loosely opened white button-up clung to him as he met your eyes, a smirk now on his lips as he said "To Y/N, may you rake in twice as much money next time so you can buy us all more drinks. Good Job, baby."

Everyone cheered at San's words, downing their drinks before they returned to dancing. You leaned back against the seat cushions and watched everyone enjoy the album release party. You had dropped your first album which your fans had been begging for, the album hitting number one on all music platforms and physical CDs already selling out, pre-orders racking up as well. To celebrate, you rented out a club for you and your guests to party and relax, as the album-making process wasn't easy. At least for you, anyway.

"You didn't have to do all of that, you know," You said as San slid back into the booth, a chuckle leaving his lips as he rested his head back against the cushion, already pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "You could've said something simple." "Why would I say something special when my best friend is number one all around the world tonight?" He chuckled, downing his drink easily. You rolled your eyes, your eyes landing on his eyes open chest as he chuckled. He was frankly too big for the shirt: his chest pecs were pushing away the fabric, giving you a view of his cross necklace that sat in between them, rising and falling in the club's red lights as he breathed, glimmering as if it wanted to draw your attention back constantly.

"I, for one, liked his speech" You turned to Mingi who slid back into the booth, the group of women he was dancing with leaving as he waved them away, turning back to you with a grin. He was now covered in kiss marks from the girl's lipstick-covered lips, their smudged kiss adoring his collarbone, neck, his cheek, and his chest. He smirked proudly as your eyes moved over them, chuckling out "Drink in in, Beautiful. The woman are crazy about me tonight." "You guys know that you're supposed to be celebrating me, right?" You asked playfully, taking a sip of your drink as Mingi moved to sit on one side of you. He placed his arm around the back of the seat, his fingers playing with your hair as he said "of course. Just how I celebrate things is different than this."

"Well then, how do you guys celebrate things?'' You asked, watching as both of your friends made eye contact across the table. San's eyes darkened slightly, the red lights adding shadows to his face as he moved closer to you. His hand landed on your thigh, smirking as he said "Well, we can show you…" Mingi smirked, agreeing as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet before he placed a red card on the table in front of you. As you leaned forward to read the black ink on the card, your hair left your shoulders as Mingi's lips met your neck, San's hands moving up your sides.

IOU CARD: Good for anything as a replacement for a gift on a holiday

For Christmas a few years back, you had gifted both San and Mingi IOU cards as you couldn't afford to get them gifts at the time. However, when you did buy them gifts, you thought you had gotten them all back. Mingi must've held onto one. "Is the card good for this type of situation?" Mingi asked against your ear, his body blocking you from the view of everyone else in the club as he moved your face to meet his, San's hands moving down your sides to the bottom of your dress, pushing your legs apart. You felt like you were in a daze, Mingi smirking at your hooded eyes and parted lips. He repeated his question, his lips meeting your immediately when you nodded. When you had first gifted them the IOU cards, you didn't think they'd use them for this, but now that you had Mingi's tongue meeting yours and San's hands playing with your panties underneath the table while he watched, you weren't mad.

"You know, we could take you right here at this table, baby" San whispered into your ear, his chest now pressed against your back as you fully faced Mingi, your arms wrapping around his neck as you both made out. "Everyone here is so drunk and so focused on dancing that they won't even see us. How about I have you ride me, while you suck off Mingi, hmm?" San whispered his dirty thoughts into your ear, making you moan against Mingi's lips. The kiss heated up at that, Mingi smirked at the idea.

"I like that. Having tonight's special girl on the table, back against the table with my cock down her throat and you in between her legs, making a mess" You bit your lip at his words, your eyes slowly dragging down Mingi's body, landing on each of the kiss marks those women he was dancing with earlier left. San noticed your growing jealousy, his hands cupping your face to meet his as he asked "someone looks like she's jealous, isn't she?" San clicked his tongue, turning you to face Mingi once more as he pressed his cheek against yours. San was like the devil on your shoulder, his dark smirk showing off his dimples as he spoke to Mingi. "She's far too focused on all those kiss marks you have on you to feel good, man."

"Is that so?" Mingi asked, standing up from the booth to tower over where you were bent slightly due to San pushing you down a little with his chest. "Don't you wish these were from you, not them?" You felt your jealousy kicking into a higher gear, being egged on by San's words. You nodded, turning to kiss San when Mingi went to kiss you again. This made him chuckle darkly, San doing the same before he pulled back, licking his lips as he met your eyes. "I think someone needs all of our attention, don't you? You're just an attention whore, aren't you, Y/N?"

"She couldn't just be happy with having the world's attention, no, she needs our attention too" Mingi grabbed your jaw, making you face him as he picked you up. The club's loud music blocked out the noise from the wet kiss Mingi had you locked in, San rushing to knock every bottle and glass off the table with his arm before grabbing you by your hips, pulling you back to rest on the table. You looked up as the two men towered over you, the various people at the club not noticing anything, oblivious to the heated moment between you and your best friends.

You looked up as Mingi and San swapped places, their shoes crushing the broken glass bottles underneath their dress shoes as they settled into their new positions, with San sitting back down in the booth, setting your legs up to spread yourself for him, while Mingi stood at your head, his hands playing with his large belt buckle. "You're such a greedy whore, you know that right?" Mingi mumbled, his thumb rubbing over your lips before he moved to cup your neck, forcing your head to stay back as he removed his belt. "You've been so busy in the studio and haven't had time to hang out with us. Then here you are, inviting us out to celebrate the same album that you were locked away recording, and you get all upset when I get some attention."

You gasped as San pulled back your panties, letting the ruined fabric stick against you once more, making him chuckle. He ran his hands up and down your legs, kissing down the inside of your thighs as he looked up at you. "She can't handle it if someone else wants us as much as we want her right now."

Your mind was clouded as San's lips met your covered pussy, his tongue moving over the fabric before he took your clit in his mouth, his free hand's thumb rubbing over your covered entrance, teasing you as he pushed in his thumb, only to pull it back out a second later. Your eyes closed at the feeling, Mingi pushing down his pants only a little so that his cock can come out from his underwear. Your eyes opened up to see his cock standing up against his abs, a kiss mark right above it. His hands moved into your hair, pushing his cock slowly into your mouth as he moaned out "I'll have you kiss over these kiss marks when I'm finished filling your throat."

Your mouth widened to accommodate Mingi's size and length, your hands now pinned to the table by San's hands. You moaned as Mingi began to fuck your mouth, San's tongue and mouth focused on wetting your panties. Anytime you tried to drop a leg or pull him closer, San would firmly place your foot back against the table, biting the inside of your thighs with a warning. You were at their mercy as they used and played with you, and you loved it. The music only became background noise as Mingi moved faster, his tongue poking out over his lips as he watched drool and his precum leave your lips, dribbling down your cheeks and neck. He paused his movements, fully stuffing your mouth with his cock to the hilt, your nose pressing against the kiss mark that was left by one of the women he was with earlier.

"You know," he started, pulling his cock out till only the tip was in your mouth before he went back to slowly fill your mouth once more, repeating it multiple times. ''I thought about you the whole time I was with that girl? She doesn't know how to take the whole thing without complaining like this" He hummed, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks, cooing at you to breathe through your nose. Your legs were shaking, your eyes now welled up with tears from the constant teasing from San and Mingi fucking your throat. "You look like a mess, baby" Mingi continued to coo, leaning down to place a single bite onto one of your breasts. "Looking like such a mess at your own party."

San sat up from your legs, his hands moving to your hips as he laid his head against your pussy, looking up at you. His eyes were dark, his lips now in a devious smirk as he began to play with the waistband of your panties. "What if I announce to everyone that you're getting used on a table right now? That you're allowing us to taste you, and fill your throat with our cum over a fake IOU card?" San's words made you pull away from Mingi's cock with a pop, sitting up to ask what he meant. Mingi rushed to bite and kiss your neck, his hands moving to grab your breasts over the dress and San chuckled.

"When you let Mingi borrow your laptop that one time, he found your IOU card templates and he copied it and sent it to himself." San paused, picking up the IOU card, placing it into your mouth as he slithered up your body, his hands meeting Mingi's to play with and grab your breasts. You bit the card at the feeling, not wanting to let your friends know you were enjoying it, making San chuckle darkly. "Oh, she's trying to hide it now. She's trying to not show us that she likes it because we lied."

Mingi let out his own chuckle from your neck, his lips meeting your ear as he whispered "Let us make it up to you, you know, since it's your IOU party." San leaned forward to bite the card from your mouth, his hands now on your hips as he met yours. Your body was hot and full of need, your hand moving to cup San's jaw as he pressed himself against the front of you, his hard, clothed cock now pressed against your ruined panties. ''Is that a yes?" Mingi asked, making eye contact with his best friend. "Are you going to let us make it up to you?"

Usually, you would be mad if your best friends lied to you. You would've made them make it up to you somehow. "Faster, baby, fuck," Mingi had his head off the side of the bed, his hands gripping the bed as he fucked up into you, matching your bounces as you rode his cock. You nodded, moving as fast as you could to match his new pace, both of your noises filling the bedroom. You leaned your head back to rest on San's shoulder, his hands gripping your breasts as you moved your hips up and back, meeting both of their cocks. "Slow down" San moaned through gritted teeth, landing a hard smack to your breast before he gripped it again, his cock filling your ass as you rotated your hips. Mingi shook his head, moaning out loudly "no, fucking don't, I'm so close"

San shoved his face into your neck, littering it with marks as he began to move his hips to match your bouncing as well as he could, his mind fuzzy as he moaned out "I'm gonna cum if she doesn't slow down." You bit your lip as you sped up, making both men shake and moan your name, rushing to grab you wherever they could as they pressed their hips against yours, filling you up with their cum. You placed your hands on either side of Mingi as you all panted, San's hand rushing to grab your hair as he began to roll his hips into your plush ass, making you moan out.

"Kiss them" San panted, forcing your head down to kiss over all of the lipstick marks Mingi had on him. The sight made both men go feral, Mingi's cock hardening inside you as he moaned. You felt San tug you back, meeting your lips in a messy kiss, Mingi pulling out to litter your body with bite and kiss marks. You three had been at it since you all decided to leave the club, going at it in the car as they each took turns driving while the other one got a blowjob in the back of the car. Now you all had been in the same position for what felt like forever, your pussy now leaking all of Mingi's cum onto the bed, San's cum also doing the same. You panted against San as he pushed back in, San's growl covering your pants as he said "you're still so tight, no matter how many times I fuck this sweet ass and fill it. It's just as needy as you are."

You licked your lips at his words, San's mind turning off as he pulled you back into the messy kiss. Mingi licked down your stomach to your pussy, having you sit down on his face while San began to fuck your ass once more. You moved your hips over Mingi's tongue to meet San's movements, your mind shutting off at the sensation of Mingi moaning against you. San pulled back from the kiss abruptly, his hand moving to push you down onto your stomach against Mingi's. He continued to lap away happily at your pussy while you took his cock into your mouth, humming at the taste left on it by you. San smirked at the sight before he moved to slowly push back into your ass, making you choke around Mingi's cock.

"Breathe baby" He smacked your ass, his hand grabbing a handful of your ass. You tried to focus once more on Mingi's cock, bobbing your head, but once Mingi pushed his tongue fully into you, along with San fully pushing into your ass, you choked again, making both men chuckle. "She can't focus like this, San" Mingi chuckled, his ringed finger playing with your entrance before pushing into you slowly. You gasped, backing up against them both before you were met with two rough smacks to your ass, both men urging you to move faster. San pushed your head down on Mingi's cock as he resumed fucking you, chuckling and cooing at your loud, gurgled moans around Mingi. His hands landed on your hips, keeping you from moving away as they both used you.

You began to feel your sixth orgasm rush to you, your eyes rolling back as Mingi urged you to cum, his mouth latching onto your pussy with great need, San's pace becoming more brutal as you came hard, moaning loudly around Mingi. The vibrations from your moan made him cum as well, his cock returning to your throat as he emptied his load down it.

Your head fell against Mingi's thighs as San pulled out, his cum leaking out of you, down your thighs. You didn't react to Mingi moving, resting your body down against the bed. San kissed along your shoulders and back, soothing you slowly. "Did all that make up for the fake IOU?" Your eyes opened to face both men who were cheekily smiling at you, both covered in sweat and bite marks. You rolled your eyes, both men high-fiving each other before they laid down next to you.

"We should do this again sometime, baby" San whispered, his hands moving down your body to play with your clit lazily. You whimpered, Mingi now kissing your shoulder as he whispered "right now." "Mingi's right, we should do it again right now" San moaned, his lips meeting yours as Mingi moved down your body once more, moving in between your legs with a smile as he said, "all to celebrate you, babygirl."

"Do you think you can spell congratulations with your tongue?" San asked, grabbing the back of Mingi's head to force him into your pussy, Mingi's chuckle against your pussy made you moan out "please do."

"Well, since she asked so politely" Mingi hummed, his tongue moving out to play with your pussy, his mind focused on spelling one thing.

Congratulations.

@bambikisss | 2024

[yandereworlds]

Care to share some fun facts about Dr. Laurence? *wink wonk* he's such an interesting character and I'd like to know more about him ^^

DR. LAURENCE HEADCANONS!

Dr. Laurence - he's damn good at what he does, no two ways about it. But he's the kind of guy who's got a deck full of cards but only shows you the top two. He's all about strategy, always one step ahead. Not to mention he's got that charisma thing down pat which lets him spin any tale in his favor. 

It goes without saying that due to his medical expertise, Dr. Laurence knows the human body inside and out, including the points of vulnerability. Armed with this knowledge, he doesn't rule out using it on his S/O if situations demand it, but only as a final resort when it comes to neutralizing them. Although he's not a fan of resorting to such measures, he also doesn't hesitate if the situation calls for it.

Dr. Laurence is the type to become easily tongue-tied around his partner. Merely sharing a room with his loved one can get him all rosy-cheeked, with a whirlwind of thoughts sweeping through his mind. He manages to maintain a cool exterior, but internally, he's definitely over the moon!

One thing Dr. Laurence truly enjoys is taking care of his partner's health. While others might consider medical checkup routine, for him, it's an opportunity to share a special, intimate moment with his S/O. Holding them intimately, running checks and tests, these moments are precious to him. Needless to say, the health and well-being of his beloved always top his list of priorities.

Dr. Laurence has a bit of a peculiar habit - he likes to keep mementos of his S/O, sometimes without their knowledge. It could be anything - strands of hair, misplaced eyelashes, or even pieces of clothing. And that hospital gown you wore that one time? He found it irresistible, so he had to keep it. Of course, he stashes these items safely away in a private spot. On the off chance, someone stumbles upon his collection, he swiftly brushes it off as 'random clutter,' but never lets anyone discard it. He'd even go the extra mile figuring out better ways to keep them hidden, and might even bring them home. Is it creepy? Definitely. Does he care? Not really.

Dr. Laurence truly cares about you - so much so that he won't stand by if he sees you neglecting your well-being, even to the point of stepping in forcefully if necessary. If you're refusing to eat, he won't think twice about resorting to a feeding syringe to ensure you're nourished, he'd personally see to it that you maintain your hygiene or even go as far as drugging your food to make you rest if you're overdoing it. Right or wrong, in his eyes, it's unthinkable to watch his darling deteriorating from neglect. So, in his mind, why not step in and do the caring for them?

Dr. Laurence will ensure that your family remains oblivious to your actual situation. He'll spin a tale, something about you being afflicted with a severe illness that demands a long hospital stay and no visitors, lest you spill the truth. But that wouldn't keep your family from sending things your way - stuffed toys, heartfelt cards, fresh flowers. This would irritate him to no end. Why were they showering his darling with such tokens? As if you needed anything else when you had him, right? Despite his frustration, he won't discard these gifts. Instead, he devises a scheme to pass these presents off as his own. So, he replaces their notes with his name, playing the doting partner at every opportunity. "Look, Y/N, I thought this teddy might keep you company." He'd assure your family that their tokens are being received well, all while hijacking their efforts for his own credit.

Dr. Laurence may have good intentions (sometimes), but he's far from flawless. There are moments when his partner's words and actions can really throw him off. Despite being a master at maintaining a pleasant facade, even he has his brink. When pushed too far, his recourse could be as extreme as keeping his S/O sedated for an entire week. Each time you regain consciousness, you'd find that all too familiar syringe stuck in your arm with Dr. Laurence's regretful words, "I never wanted this, Y/N... Maybe rest is what you need." This approach takes a toll on him, too. Missing the sight of your expressive eyes and the sound of your voice? It eats him up inside. But he feels it's a necessary lesson to instill. He sees it as the only way out.

All Dr. Laurence can wish for is that someday, you'll acknowledge that all he's done stems from his profound love for you. You'll get it, won't you? Then both of you can finally find happiness. That's his ultimate wish, no matter what the repercussions might be.

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[inkedroplets]

Day 15 Childhood Trauma

Read on AO3

Home was the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in—at least according to Robert Frost it was—and maybe that was why it was the place Lena's feet had carried her. Standing in front of the manor with no earthly idea how she had gotten there, she felt like a child again, standing in front of something too big and too cold to hold anything good inside. 

She knocked twice. She was still trying to piece together how she had arrived here when her mother threw open the door. Lillian peered at her, a look of genuine surprise on her face that made her momentarily look years younger. Her mouth curved into that all-too-familiar curl of a smirk which slowly retreated as she got a better look at Lena. 

“What’s happened?” she asked cautiously. If she didn’t know her so well, she might have mistaken it for concern. It tinged her voice and robbed it of any of the sarcasm that she had been so naturally gifted with.

“I killed Lex.” She said it as if it was a fact she had been forced to repeat to the point of disinterest and she supposed that she had. It was the solitary thought that she had held onto even in her fugue. A voice whispered it over and over in the back of her mind still, part mantra, part madness.

 I killed Lex. I killed Lex. I killed Lex. 

She expected disbelief or outright rejection from her mother. The very nature of their family's dynamic made such a declaration difficult to take seriously. How many times had she threatened Lex’s life in the past? But it took her mother only a moment’s contemplation before she nodded grimly. 

“Where?” she asked

There was a bitter chill in the cabin that wasn’t there before. Lena’s breath fogged out in front of her the instant that she and her mother had stepped out of the portal. The door to the cabin was wide open and for one irrational moment, she believed that Lex had survived somehow and stumbled out of the cabin and into the snow. Somehow he would inevitably turn up again like a bad penny. 

She could almost picture the scene in her head. One that her imagination was more than eager to furnish with plausible details and other dribs and drabs that gave the whole thing a hint of verisimilitude. She built the scene in her head delicately like a house of cards until part of her really started to believe or maybe hope that it was true.

And then she saw Lex's body lying on the floor and the house of cards came crashing down. Running red blossoms flowered on his chest and beneath him a pool of blood that looked black in the semi-darkness. 

Dead.

Killed, a voice in her head whispered back at her in a hectoring rasp. She had opened the door, had fled out into the snow and the wind in a fugue before she had used her watch to create a portal. She knew this had to be true but had no memory of it. The last thing she remembered was Lex’s triumphant capering grin as he relished the pain he had been able to inflict on her. Reveling in the fact that if he had to die, he could at least bring her world crashing down before he did.

“Lex…” 

Lillian spoke so softly that Lena could hardly believe that it was her speaking. Her mother stepped past her and knelt beside Lex’s body. She lay a hand on his chest, maybe hoping (however irrationally considering his current state) that he might still be breathing, to feel a shiver in his breast. 

Lena half-expected her to whip around to point an accusatory finger before screaming at her. Not like she didn't deserve it. She had killed her brother, after all. But when her mother finally turned around she did so slowly, speaking in a voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“It had to be done,” she said, sounding almost like her old self. Shrewd and coldly calculating in her assessment but even in the low light, Lena could see the pained expression on her face, how in the dark her eyes shone with unfallen tears. 

You don’t truly believe that Lena thought. No matter how good of a liar her mother was, she knew that was one truth she could never truly hide from her. If she so wanted she would see the truth in her mother's eyes. Which was why she was too afraid to look, to confirm what she knew had to be true. “—Far away from here. No one can ever suspect. Someone besides me needs to see you, tonight, Lena.” It was hearing her name that roused her from her stupor, so close to slipping back into that blankness she had unknowingly tumbled into after shooting Lex, her mind wanting to flee back into that nothingness that was so much like the snowstorm raging outside,

An alibi? Yes, she thought, she would need one of those. It was the kind of thing you wanted after committing murder. Best to err on the side of caution, to leave nothing to chance. Both were lessons she had learned and learned well in her family. Wasn't that exactly why she had come to the cabin in the first place? To be completely sure? To trust only herself to do what had to be done? 

“Are you listening, Lena?” 

“Yes,” she said, feeling like a child again, discipline and proper etiquette so ingrained in her that answering was second nature. “I have it covered.” It's game night, she thought and felt the inexplicable urge to laugh. Plenty of witnesses there. People I thought were my friends.

“Good,” Lillian breathed. She cast a dispassionate look around the room of what was once their cabin and Lena wondered if she had even realized where they were. Not that the would have any reason to. There was no evidence of what it had once been. Lex had repurposed it as a safehouse and showed no sentimentality in its renovation. Nothing remained of what it once was. Not so much unlike the Lex she had grown up with.

I didn't want to do it, Lena thought. But I had to. If I didn’t, he would have hurt a lot of people. She knew it to be true, that fact was immutable. Even in her grief and uncertainty, she had never once wavered in that belief. But noble or not, necessary or not, sorry or not, there was also no changing the fact that she had killed her brother. I did a good thing, right, Mother? Please tell me, I did a good thing, she thought. She thought it hard as if it was something that she could pass along to her without words. Feeling as if she deserved whatever answer she gave. Too afraid to ask her outright, fearing she already knew the answer. 

It should have alarmed Lena to know how little her life had changed since she had killed Lex. She had believed the act (or even the mere decision to act) would fracture her life into two unconnected pieces: the part of her life where Lex was alive and the part where he wasn't.  It seemed plausible enough that killing him would create some indelible rift for her to deal with. But when was life ever so tidy? 

Her life had been marked by loss and pain. Enough to know that though it might leave deep scars, nothing was separating oneself from the bits and pieces that made up the person you were, life simply went on for better or worse. Killing Lex was just another broken piece of her that made up her whole self. 

She still hadn't confronted Kara or any of the others about the fact that they had been lying to her from the very beginning. Still going through the motions of what she had so stupidly believed was genuine friendship. Attending game nights and lunch dates with Kara. 

Some days it felt easier to keep pretending if only because she was too tired to deal with the inevitable fallout. The empty apologies and the crocodile tears. Other days she wanted nothing more than to put an end to it. To set her face as if prepared for bitter medicine and weather the excuses and the apologies and finally put it behind her. Not just put it all behind her but to set a flame to it. Some days she wanted to watch it burn. 

Tonight though all she wanted was a cigarette. A telltale sign that she was overstressed. She had never considered herself a smoker but she had once upon a time carried around a pack and smoked one or two before tossing it and promising herself that it would be the last. 

If that could be considered a habit, she had kicked it years ago but she still found herself buying a pack from time to time when she was on a business trip. More often than not she didn't so much as peel away the cellophane. The pack would usually languish away in a drawer until she tossed them when she happened across them again. On occasion, however, the compulsion would strike and she would remember why she never threw away the small silver lighter stashed in one of her desk drawers. 

She could almost hear her mother's voice echoing in her head as she pocketed the lighter. 

It's such a nasty habit, Lena. Honestly…

“I know,” she murmured as she rummaged around in another drawer. She found what she was looking for and tweezed the slightly squashed pack out with her fingers. They’ll be stale, she thought as she picked away at the cellophane wrapper. She couldn’t recall exactly when she had bought them, only that she had been in Japan on business and had bought them on a whim. 

She stepped out onto the balcony, the unexpected chill of the night air made gooseflesh race down her arms. The view of the city interested her about as much as a good meal would have after she had already eaten. Another day, another time she would find it appealing but not now. 

Lena tapped the bottom of the pack against the railing before examining it. She smoked so rarely that she thought it impossible for her to have a brand but she realized (with a faint pang of what might have been regret) that she only ever smoked Seven Stars. 

In one fluid motion, she took one from the pack and lit it before she clicked the lighter closed, and stowed it away in her pocket. The first drag made her a little lightheaded. The second she held in her chest before exhaling slowly, smoke tumbling out of her mouth in a hazy cloud.

“Those really aren’t good for you.”

As far as unwanted visitors went, Lena believed that she only had to worry about Supergirl making an untimely appearance. She never expected to look up and see her cousin floating down to meet her. 

“Is Metropolis so safe that you can fly all the way here to give an in-person anti-smoking PSA?” 

“Sorry.” He ducked his head when he landed on her balcony with a hangdog expression on his face. Lena thought it an appropriate show of contrition considering he had both come uninvited and bearing unwanted advice. “It’s not my place.” “When has that ever stopped people?” she observed. She thought about butting the cigarette if only to be polite but decided against it, hoping he wouldn’t stick around long enough for it to matter. “I’m assuming you need my help with something?” “No, nothing like that.” He shook his head, still looking sheepish. Like a dog that had been caught digging up the garden. “I should have come sooner,” he said gravely. He stood up straighter and looked every bit the hero that so many looked up to. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Lex.” 

Lena dropped her gaze, pretending to brush away nonexistent ash from her slacks. “That makes you the first and most likely the last,” she said flatly. “Strangely enough, trying to take over the world several times didn't endear him to the public at large.”

“I don't doubt that,” he said fairly. "But that doesn't make me any less sorry to know that he's gone. If anything it makes me sadder knowing the man he could have been.” 

“He made his choices,” Lena said and jetted out a plume of smoke from the corner of her mouth. And I made mine… 

“I'm still sorry. For whatever he became, whatever he was, he used to be my friend and he was your brother.” 

 “He was,” Lena agreed.

And I still killed him…

“Lena…” “He wasn’t always a monster,” she said, speaking in a voice that wasn’t even a whisper, not caring if he heard or not. “I know he wasn’t. He was my best friend once. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for him.” She butted her cigarette, nearly smoked down to the filter on the rail of the balcony, and reached for another one, ducking her head against the wind. She fumbled for her lighter and had to chase the flame, her hands were shaking that badly. 

“I’m sure if Supergirl had any other choice…” He shook his head as if he wasn’t sure how or maybe if he even should finish his thought. “You didn't come here on her behalf, did you?” Lena found something deeply amusing about the possibility that Kara had sent an envoy of sorts because she had been too afraid to deliver the message herself. How many masks do you need? she wondered. He shook his head. No.” “Well, then,” Lena said and took a step back from the balcony. “Thank you for the condolences,” she said. “But I really would like to be alone.” She looked at him and waved a wisp of smoke away. “What is it with you Kryptonians thinking being able to fly gives you carte blanche to land anywhere you wish?” “I’ll make an appointment next time,” he promised. He rose into the air, illuminated by the rind of moon in the sky.

“Lex had to be stopped,” Lena said almost conversationally, part of her hoping that he had already made enough distance that he might not have heard her. 

“He did,” he agreed and with him hovering overhead it was easier to imagine she was simply having a conversation with herself. “She didn’t have a choice,” Lena said, repeating what she had tried to tell herself so many times over. “She did a good thing, right? Killing him.” The silence that she got in return stretched on for so long that she believed that he had simply flown away, either unable or unwilling to answer her which she thought was an answer unto itself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. His voice was so full of pain and understanding as it grew fainter, becoming one with the night air, and she hated him for it.

It was only after spending so many long evenings shut away in her penthouse that Lena realized how many excuses she made to be anywhere else. In spite of living several years in National City, it still didn't feel like home. Now, knowing what she did, she was certain that it never would. 

Leaving was always an option. A choice that seemed to only grow more appealing with each passing day. There was no reason to stay and every reason to put the city behind her. Start over. She had done it before. And each time was like the first time. Because sometimes there was no lesson to be learned or bracing yourself for what you knew was coming.  Sometimes you just picked up the shattered bits of your life and got on because what else could you do? 

Tomorrow, I’ll deal with all of that tomorrow, Lena told herself and knew that it probably wouldn’t be tomorrow but it would be soon. Because who wants to make plans to uproot what they thought was their life with a hangover? 

She had been drunk an hour ago and was now fast approaching a level of intoxication that she would sorely regret in the morning and for a good chunk of the day. The one upside (the only upside) was that drinking this much meant no nightmares. No nightmare. Because lately she only ever had the one. Lex lying in a pool of blood. Standing over him with a gun in her hands, feeling the weight of it as it pulled her down into darkness. And sometimes when she was able to look away, when she inevitably looked back (because the pull was too irresistible not to) Lex would look as he did when they were children. When he had promised to take her away from everything. 

Her gaze fell upon her empty glass for a moment before she reached for the bottle of scotch, intent on remedying that. She splashed a generous amount into it and was ready to raise it to her lips when there was a featherlight knock at her door. So light that she could have easily brushed it off as a trick of sound. “Lena… It’s me. It’s Kara. Are you home?” 

You know I am, Lena thought. Her hand closed over her glass and the urge to throw it at the door as way of an answer came and went. 

She considered remaining silent, sure that Kara would slink away eventually. But what good would that do? If Kara was adamant on speaking with her, and Lena guessed that she was, she could always just whip off her glasses and go tap on her window. 

The thought made her sick and she pushed her glass away, not caring that most of its contents sloshed out over the side. “I'm here,” she said, not bothering to raise her voice all that much, knowing Kara would hear her either way. She took her time walking to the door, aware that Kara was probably watching her. 

She thumbed the lock open and opened the door just enough to peer through it. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” Kara said, sounding surprised  as if the possibility that Lena might ask her such a question had never crossed her mind. “I had an interview fall through for my article and decided to take the rest of the day off rather than type angry.” She smiled at her little joke. “And when I called your office, Jess said you didn’t come in today. Thought it might be worth dropping by your place.” 

“I caught a bug.” She told this lie easily and dispassionately, not caring in the slightest if Kara knew she was lying or not. “I’d rather not pass it along to you and truth be told I’m not much in the mood for company.” She tensed her mouth in what might generously be considered a humorless smile. “Maybe we can talk tomorrow?”

“If you’re feeling better…” Kara said cautiously and from the way she was looking past her, Lena was certain she was looking at the chair Lena had just vacated and the bottle of scotch standing at attention nearby. “Do you want anything? Medicine? Soup? Or do you not have an appetite?” Lena shook her head. “It’s just a bug, Kara. I’ll be fine. Really.” She tried her luck at another smile and managed a more convincing one before she made to shut the door. “Lena…” Kara said before she was able to shut the door completely. “Yeah?” Lena said, speaking through the tiny crack, not bothering to open it again. “If you need anything, you can call me, you know? Day or night.” “Yes,” Lena said and found it easier to speak now that she didn’t need to look at Kara while she did it. “I’m aware of how friendships are supposed to work, Kara. Thank you though.” “I know you do, I just wanted to make sure you knew. Lately… Things have been so hectic. And Lex… I’m so sorry about everything, Lena.” “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Kara. You didn’t kill Lex.” She paused. “Supergirl did. And if she didn’t, Lex would be plotting and scheming in whatever cell they threw him in. And he would end up hurting more people. It’s a good thing she did it,” Lena said numbly before she shut the door and turned the lock, not realizing that she was crying. 

[majorproblems77]

Happy birthday Chosen

Writing I did for myself. Thought I'd share it with you all. :)

Sky was a sentimental guy, all of the links agreed on that much. Always going out of his way to make them smile or give them comfort when they otherwise wouldn't have had it.

So when the conversations of birthdays came up no one thought anything of it. Each one of them had something different from lighting cakes on fire to giving favourite foods, getting to choose destinations or just getting to have a day to rest. Each one of the links had a different way of celebrating.

The rest day sounded like Sky's favourite version if he had to admit.

"I always choose to go to my private island so the crew can have a day to relax! We dont get that way very often, but they love it!" Wind smiled, counting something on his fingers. "But my birthday isn't for some time yet."

"What about you Sky? What do you people do for birthdays?" The captain smiled over the fire towards the Skylofitan, who placed a hand to his chin.

"Well, we gather the town. And our loftwings gift us with a feather Before we get things from other people."

"Your loftwings moult?"

"Yeah? They are about the same age as us, normally to the day. And they shed only a few feathers twice a year. On their birthdays and six or so months later."

"I'd have thought they would all shed at a time of year. Like my cat does. So much fur..." The captain shuddered while the rancher laughed.

"Captain you have a cat? You never told me you had a cat." The captain nodded

the skyloftian chuckled, "You'd think, but imagine the amount of feathers that would litter skyloft of that was the case."

The captain thought about it, "That's surprisingly nice of the goddess."

The skyloftian pulled his bag from behind him, pulling out a singular red feather. "You guys have seen me wear this. And it's got two purple feathers near the top of it."

The group nodded. Hyrule, who was sitting beside the skyloftian looked closely at the feather as it shifted across the skyloftians hand.

"Those purple feathers belong to Zelda's loftwing. It was her gift to me last year." He smiled looking off to the side slightly. "Iris even picked the ones for me herself. It was very sweet of her." The skyloftian smiled down at the feathers. Carding them through his fingers.

"When is your birthday anyway Sky? We've all figured out ours but not yours?" Legend asked, knocking the skyloftian's shoulder as he looked beside him.

"Oh, thats nothing to worry about."

"Skyyyyyyy. Tell ussssssss." The sailor stood up and walked over to the skyloftian flinging his arms around him from behind. "Or I'll bug you all night about it."

"We have a different calendar to you, even if I told you you wouldn't know when it was."

"All the more reason to tell us Sky!" Hyrule knocked the skyloftian, "I know we haven't got much and this journey is a tough one. But it'll be good to know!"

The skyloftian sighed. "From my assumptions, and watching how the sun moves, it's today?" Gasps went across the group as they all sat upright. A chorus of words ran across the team.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Sky!"

"Come on now chosen!"

"You could have told us!"

"We've had a busy day. That last battle took it out of us. I wanted to make sure you were all okay."The skyloftain smiled raising a hand behind his head only to find the sailor still gripping him. Now even tighter.

"I dont believe a word of that." Sky looked up to see Time looking intently towards him. "Tomorrow we are absolutely doing something, No questions asked" Time smiled.

"But we are less than a day out from the ranch Time. I wouldn't want to keep us."

"Who said you were keeping us." Time turned to the group, "Tomorrow is a rest day. We will make our way to the ranch the day after. Now get some rest all of you."

Sky nodded and stood up, the sailor still firmly attached to him. chuckling he flung his arms under the sailor's legs to carry him on his back and walked them over to their bedrolls. Placing the sailor down before he himself lay down to rest.

The following morning was bright and cheery. The sun shone warm and bright through the trees.

The camp was bustling with activity. Everyone was awake and working to pack up as quickly as they could.

All apart from one, and they planned to keep it that way.

Sky was resting soundly on his bedroll. Having fallen asleep quite quickly the night before.

"Okay Twilight, It's about an hour to the ranch. You reckon you can carry him?" Time asked, Flinging the rancher's bag across his shoulder.

"I've got this. Let's get him into an actual bed." The rancher raised a hand, signalling the captain who nodded. Pointing into the trees to the wide space of Hyrule field. Before coming over.

"Wild has gone on ahead, he should be about done by the time we get there if we walk quickly."

"Then let's go!" The sailor bounced over, smiling wide. "This is going to be the best birthday present ever for him."

The skyloftian was lifted and placed onto the Rancher's back, arms wrapped around his neck and sailcloth wrapped around him.

The walk was uneventful, as the team made they're way across Hyrule field into the ranch.

Malon and Wild were waiting at the door when they turned into the ranch. Malon smiled and waved, opening the door for the rancher and following him in to help get Sky into a bed.

"Pumpkin pie and soup. Ready to go when he is. Did you guys get here alright?" Wild looked over the team briefly, who gave nods of encouragement.

"We did." The captain said, "Now I'm going to get this bag down I forget how much Sky actually carries."

As he walked inside. wind called out to him, "Dont forget to put the master sword in with him. He gets nightmares without it!"

The captain waved in acknowledgement as he walked into the ranch house.

"Wonderful, now it's time for the presents. four, there's a forge, that me and malon use to make new horseshoes. Will that be enough for you?" Time smiled pointing across the field where the sight of a small smithing table could be seen.

The smith nodded, looking in the same direction "Anything works. Legend, Wind and Hyrule. You guys are with me." He pointed to each of them in turn before looking to Time. "Do you have steel?"

"We do. We should have had a shipment recently. And Malon's sent Talon to the town to grab some gemstones."

"good. I'm going to need a few hours." Time nodded as the small team turned away walking towards the forge around the side of the horse field.

"Now we keep Sky asleep."

"Leave that to me." Time pat the blue ocarina on his waist, "There's that melody he plays a lot. And I think I've learnt it."

With tasks in hand, each group want to do their respective tasks.

When Sky awoke it wasn't to the sun gently kissing his face, but he could hear the gentle melody of Zelda's lullaby gently floating through his ears.

Reaching out in front of him he found Fi's blade, a gentle smile drifting across his face he reached out for it. when his hand contacted something soft.

The sailcloth. Right. tucking it into himself he smiled.

He felt. Well rested, for the first time in a long time.

"Afternoon."

Afternoon?

Afternoon!

"Wha..?" He shot up quickly taking in his surroundings. this was the ranch, How had they gotten to the ranch? When had they?

"Hey... relax, we decided to let you sleep in today." Time stood up, walking over to the bed as he offered a hand. "the others have something to show you."

He took the offered hand. "Sorry for sleeping in..."

"It's no bother. Twilight carried you here. We thought it would be nicer for you to sleep in an actual bed." He directed Sky out of the room and downstairs.

"Happy birthday Sky!"

The first thing he saw was a flash of blue as two arms enveloped him.

the sailor...

"come on! We've got some stuff for you!" He said, pulling at the skyloftians's arm as he was walked into the room. a small pile of boxes on the centre table.

"Come on Come on Come on!"

Various gifts were handed to him as excited voices sounded. He got an enchanted ring from legend, a small pressed flower from Hyrule. A drawing of crimson from Wind, and a new sword sheath band from Warriors, Time and Twilight.

"Sorry, you couldn't be home for crimson to give you a feather. But. We made you this." Four stepped forward, holding a small box. "We all worked on it. thought you could use it for your woodworking?"

The skyloftian looked towards the smith before looking down at the box.

Lifting the lid he found a silver blade the same size as the carving knife. It was a relatively short blade with a small indent made into the blade itself. Inside lay a singular red crystal, the Handle of the blade was wrapped in a leather grip. A beautifully simple blade. he held it up to the light above him.

Then he traced his thumb over the guard. And found the taletale feeling of a rachis. The guards, fashioned to look like feathers were wide enough to be practical while also looking beautiful. The detail in their design almost made him want to not use the blade.

Though inspecting it further he discovered it a perfect sharpness for his woodwork. So that idea might be getting scrapped.

"I... This is beautiful." He smiled. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

The smith smiled, the veteran and the traveller beside him. "Happy birthday Sky."

And Sky smiled.

[whirlpool-blogs]

Matthew Tkachuk Daddy Issues primer

1) https://floridahockeynow.com/keith-tkachuk-rips-the-florida-panthers-calls-them-a-soft-team/

“This is do-or-die for the Panthers right now,’’ Keith told First Up with Korolnek & Colaiacovo. “I watched them the other night and I know I am staying at Brady’s house and Brady’s team played really well. They have some jam and, you know, I am a little disappointed with the Panthers.

“They are a soft team and they are getting everything they deserve right now.” To continue on that point, Keith Tkachuk said for the Panthers to snap their losing streak in Toronto, they need to bring a little more toughness to their game.

“Instead of trying to get autographs on the ice from Matthews and Marner,” he said, “they probably should check them a little harder. Whatever it is, it is disappointing. I know I sound like a frustrated person, but I know every time I come and watch Ottawa, they may not be the most talented team but they’re going to play hard. Perhaps Florida could take a page out of their book.”

2) https://www.sportsnet.ca/nhl/article/senators-brady-wins-tkachuk-battle-bettman-hints-lebreton-flats-a-little-small/

There was a “Brady is Better” chant at a game when the two brothers played each other, and Keith was at that game. Some speculate that Keith started it.

3) https://www.bladeofsteel.com/Keith-Tkachuk-explains-why-he-would-not-throw-his-hat-for-his-son-hat-trick-goal-126638

Keith refusing to throw his hat for Matthew’s hat trick, even when Taryn and Brady were also at that game.

4) https://theathletic.com/351173/2018/05/13/in-the-tkachuk-family-its-chantal-who-is-the-captain-of-the-house/

[On the family chalkboard in the kitchen] “It’s always like, ‘Happy birthday’ or ‘Welcome home, Brady!’ or ‘Can’t wait for you to leave, Matthew,’” said a chuckling Keith Tkachuk.

xxx

[A little insight into Matthew being the intense one and Brady being easier to get along with]

It’s an interesting snapshot because Matthew, a fiery competitor who was twice suspended by the NHL last season, is smiling, while Brady, a happy-go-lucky personality, is scowling.

“This picture is great because now it’s the opposite,” Keith said.

“That’s so true, so true,” Chantal said.

xxx

Chantal reads everything about her boys, too, noting that she is a subscriber to The Athletic.

“I like it,” she said.

“Except when they gave Brady a bad draft rating,” Keith said.

xxx

Keith then reminded his kids, “You guys better get your butts to the store and get some cards for your mom.”

“Actually, Matthew bought me a Mother’s Day gift this year,” she said.

“He had to have gotten you something that benefited him,” Keith responded. “What did he buy you, like eight beers or something?”

“No, Lululemon shoes,” Chantal answered. “He’s a great gift giver now that he has his own money.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Matthew said.

5) https://theathletic.com/229963/2018/02/02/he-has-that-face-you-just-want-to-punch-matthew-tkachuk-isnt-about-to-change-the-way-he-plays/

“He has that face you just want to punch, according to other players,” said his father Keith.

“I’m sure if I played against him, I’d go after him, too.”

“This kid, I find a lot of flaws in his game because I’m his dad, and that’s what dads do.”

“I love the fact that he plays with an edge,” said Dad. “I told him that I’d rather see him sit out a game for being too aggressive than sit out a game because he’s soft.”

6) https://www.bardown.com/brady-matthew-tkachuk-s-parents-explain-why-they-re-happy-their-kids-aren-t-in-the-same-conference-1.1121784

Chantal, by the way, told me she is happy Matthew and Brady are not in the same conference. Keith said: “I’m glad too. I don’t trust Matthew.”

7) https://theathletic.com/1984477/2020/08/10/its-distinctly-matthew-tkachuks-postseason-presence-drawing-rave-reviews/

“Keith wanted Matthew’s coaches to push him as hard they could. He would tell me, ‘You can be more demanding,'” said Granato. “It’s delicate because, as a coach, you have to consider how hard you can push a guy. And you love the guys you can push harder. Those are the guys you fall in love with as a coach. With Matthew? There was no limit.”

8) https://www.sportsnet.ca/nhl/article/tkachuk-brothers-vibrant-personalities-stem-from-colourful-st-louis-roots/

Keith said he remembered watching Matthew on the After Hours segment on Hockey Night in Canada as a rookie, conducting the whole interview with his head down.

“I said, ‘What are you doing? Get your head up and talk,’” said Keith.

“But now it’s like this (as he snaps his fingers).

“I watched Matthew interviewed last night and he was pretty good. He adds some normal stuff to it that people like. It’s not about the same answers. He does a good job.”

9) https://theathletic.com/4503016/2023/05/10/matthew-tkachuk-florida-panthers-nhl-playoffs/

From his father, Keith Tkachuk, he learned to accept responsibility: "You didn't win? Play better."

10) https://www.tumblr.com/matthewtkafuck/190505229656?source=share

Keith: “Matthew’s in love, but with himself.”

11) https://www.tumblr.com/raliegh/680996428961726464/lettucemakar-matthew-daddy-issues-tkachuk?source=share

Q: "What sort of text message do you think you'll get after getting five points against the team your dad works for?"

MT: "Um, I'm not sure, I'm sure he would have, I don't know maybe I'm putting words in his mouth--I'm not even going to say it, what I was about to--but he probably wanted it to be an OT game but for us to play well. Um, I don't know who he wanted to win the OT game but uh, no he, he, it doesn't matter what team he works for but he's obviously my [and] my brother's biggest fan and great mentor and obviously not only him but my linemates and teammates know how much I want to win against those guys, hometown team lots of people watching, same as, we got a lot of guys from Toronto, its like when we go to Toronto we want to win that game for the guys that are from there, tons of people watching so, I don't know exactly what he'll text me. Maybe he went to bed early and I won't even get a text I don't know."

[poetpony6890]

Drunken words, Sober thoughts

“Why would you allow him to drink that much?!” Alden exclaimed, watching as Ash shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh do not give me that shit. Who were you drinking with?” Alden asked, as Kit kept heaving into the bucket placed behind the sea creature covered panel, although it did not provide much privacy as everyone watched.

“Matais and Altair.” Ash replied, seeing no point in lying as neither of the two could kept their mouths shut.

“Where?” Alden asked, soothing the silk fabric of Kits traditional nixie drape, which had recently come into fashion with the arrival of a new king, they called them flows, as they hung off each limb of the body.

“In the woods.” Ash answered, moving towards the vanity that used to be Adaons to look at himself.

“Bullshit.” Alden declared, as Kit heaved once more into the wooden bucket.

“In the tent.” Ash muttered, Alden threw up his hands as Kit threw up his breakfast.

“Why would you go in there?! That was the one place Kieran told you not to go!” Alden scolded.

As Ash blandly ignored him and fixed his fabric in the mirror, the wooden door to the fae lantern lit room swung. In came both Denaruis, dressed in a flow as well, maroon and ebony and Kieran.

Since becoming King, the thing that has changed the most about the youngest son was his appearance, he had sunned the thought of how he had been dressed before, descended from years of cruelty, he had switched out the three piece ensemble that everyone had seen his father wear, and now regarded as a nixie head, an ivory and azure stained flow with a matching pair of opal earrings, and a stunning necklace.

His hair had even grown twice as long, now reaching the end of his shoulders, this time more wavy than ever.

“What is the matter?” He asked, coming around to the opposite side of the panel, bending down beside his nephew, ruffling Ashes silver blond hair well passing, who adjusted the ruby gem in the centre of his chest.

“Drinking is the matter.” Alden stated clearly, as Denaruis moved over to the large than normal round.

Not only had the fashion of the courts changed, but also the decor, Kierans first thought as King was to demolish the awful marble chairs that he had been informed no one had the guts to tell his father they did not like with a silver hanging chair, with handmade pillows, soft cushions and a table in the central.

“Who with?” Kieran asked, as Ash called Denaruis over with his hands to sit with him, bringing Adaons brush.

“Altair. In the tent.” Alden stated, as he got up and joined his honorary nephew and his brother.

“Are you fucking-?!” Kieran started.

“I love him so much and he hates me because I’m a dog murder!!” Kit suddenly came to.

“Ty?” Ash asked, who was now playing a game of cards with his uncles, which he always seemed to lose.

“It was just a dog.” Kieran stated, as the door to the room opened once more hastily as his mother came in.

“We replaced the dog.” Alden declared, slamming his cards down on the table and collecting his winnings.

She rushed over with a handfuls of fabric, bending next to the bucket and holding them out for Kieran to look over, as she did so she realized Kit was still heaving. She leaned down beside him and brushed his soft blond hair aside to avoid the vomit.

“It wasn’t just a dog. I yelled at him!” Kit cried as Thea slipped the sleeves of his vomit soaked flow off him.

“So, you yelled at him?” Alden questioned, shuffling the painted cards.

“He probably hates me!” Kit kept going, as Thea stood up and slid over to the wardrobe that had been a welcoming gift from the new kings many subjects, who upon seeing what he was capable of, wished to be.

“Why do you care so much about him? He is just a shadow hunter.” Denaruis asked, looking at his cards.

“Because I love him!” Kit sobbed, as Kieran stood but and moved over to his wooden wash table.

No one commented as Kieran pressed a cloth to his face to remove the mess, then Thea came behind him and slid an embroidered nightgown over his head, then down to his legs, helping him stand up on his feet.

“Do you love him or do you think to love you have to be in such pain?” Alden questioned, placing a card.

As Kieran helped him onto his bed, tucked him under the blankets, he wondered what the answer would be.

“No more drinking.” Kieran declared as he left the bed and joined his brothers on the floating seat.

After a few tosses and turns, the door opening and closing as Thea set out on her latest trend, Basil came in to gamble with a handful of coins, and finally General Winter came in to check on Kit, who he had watched try and keep up with Altair the alcoholic. He brassed his hand over Kits forehead, who glared at him.

“I helped him raise his sister from the dead.” Kit muttered, Winter leaned down to hear him.

“What do you mean you helped raise his sister from the dead?!” He shouted, Kieran and Alden whipped around.

“You raised his sister from the dead, what is wrong with you!!” Kieran shouted, swinging from his seat.

“I love him, Kieran.” Kit stated, as his uncle came and folded his knees in front of him.

“I know you do. What made you believe you had to do that?” Kieran wondered.

“Because he asked me to.” Kit whispered, looking deeply into Kierans saddened slate eyes.

From the seat, Ash swung off and came to join the two on the bed but not before removing his dirty boots.

“If he asked you do shoot yourself in the head would you do it?” Kieran asked, holding up the blanket for Ash

“If it saves him.” Kit muttered, Kieran shook his head disapprovingly, as Ash laid next to his brother.

As both Alden and Denaruis came over, Kit was certain he would shoot him self in the head for Ty. Tiberius.

“You must reflect for a moment on that thought, surely you would not go to such lengths for someone who would not even visit you well you here cooped up with those faceless freaks.” Denaruis shamed.

Yet on of those very same freaks had allowed him into his house, his life, his heart and he had packed up and left with the very same people he had been protecting him from long before he was born.

“He was going through a hard time.” Kit cleared, as Alden came to the left of him and soothed his head.

“When people go through a hard time they drink. When people change the foundations of their futures, they become someone else. Someone you may not know.” Winter declared, coming beside Kieran, who held Ashes hand as he fished with the rings on his fingers.

“I do know him.” Kit stated, relaxing into Alden’s hand as he messaged his scalp with his soft fingers.

“You have an unclear version of love I believe. People who love you would not ask for you to do such things.” Kieran stated, Kit thought back to the many times he had wished for love in that lonely house, waiting.

“I know what love is, I’m not stupid.” Kit shot, gazing his drunken eyes over the tapestry of animals over him.

“I did not say you were, Scoldia. What does love mean to you, in your heart? Have you ever felt it?” Kieran asked, as Winter watched Ash glare at Kit, Kit glare at the ceiling, Alden glare at Denaruis and Denaruis at him

“A lot more than you have.” Kit shot, Kieran, already a tad impatient, took a breath before losing it.

“You think so? Do you think love is being left for dead with a pack of wolves, do you think love is being locked in a house with no key? As a prince at a top of a tower you are. You have no context of love because you have never had it. Love is not leaving you alone for weeks because they could not deal with you. Being forced to take pictures in the bath, to be seen nude as a statue. Thrown against walls, punched in your jaw,burned with cigarettes where the eye does not meet, beaten with a belt until your back was raw at your refusal. Some people are not capable of love, Kit. If you had ever been given any you would know this.” Kieran finished, trying to raise his alarmed voice.

“We needed money.” Kit breathed as he turned into the feathered pillow beneath his head.

“You needed a father.” Kieran murmured, shaking his head.

“You need a father.” Kit drunkenly answered.

“I killed my father and for good reason.” Kieran stated, as Denaruis nodded in agreement.

“Well, I didn’t kill my dad. We aren’t the same.” Kit shoot.

“You didn’t have to. His vileness still seaps within you.” Kieran spat, standing from the bed back to the seat.

“I could say the same for you.” Kit argued, causing Ash to slap his shoulder slightly and Alden to back up.

“If you wish for me to say that I am an awful fae so be it. I am awful, I am vile, I am mean. I am aware of my actions, I have never claimed to deny them. I murdered my father, the father of my brothers. I would never go back and change what I have done. He was an absolute horrid man, an abusive father and an awful king. Every night I go to bed with the information that I have done it for the better.

Same goes for slitting Erecs neck open, I would do it every day over, because although they may not live forever, the memory of it will in my mind. I did not do it for just myself, I have done it for every one of the members of my tower, who have insured his rein. I have found them inner justice as I hope you can as well. Do not let your upbringing affect who you will become, because I know in my soul that you are much more than a monster, a dealer, a snake, an informant. If you never see yourself as more, you will never be more.”

“But that’s all I know, what if I’m not good at anything else?” What if that is all I’m ever going to be?”Kit asked, allowing his eyes to glaze over with the wine.

“You must stop thinking about who you were and start thinking of who you are.” Alden cleared.

“I don’t know who I am.” Kit hushed, looking towards his elder uncle as his eyes glazed over into sleep.

“You will find out as we all do, through error. I did not become General over a night. You must fail before you succeed. We will find a way to rid you of the ghosts of your pasts.” Winter cleared, as Kit remained silent.

“Why were you drinking to begin with?” Kieran asked, now turning to face Ash.

“He wished to, I simply came along. I did not drink.” Ash verbalized, as Kieran rolled his dark eyes.

“Why did he wish to drink?” Kieran questioned, forming a pleasant dream in his hands for his nephew.

“It ‘tis all he has ever known.” Ash muttered, leaning into Kits chest and falling asleep same as him.

[joanquill]

Little notes or cards

I would love this one with Luis😍 don't have an idea for it just a romantic fluff is fine😁

Louis James Moriarty

A/N: I'm late but HAPPY PRIDE MONTH STILL! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 Tag/s: Established Relationship, Longer than Expected (800+ words)

Louis raised a brow as he raised the suspicious object in his hand, adjusting his glasses as he inspected it.

"What on Earth...?" Louis muttered, staring at the object wrapped in a thick blanket on his desk.

As he was getting ready for the day, he spotted a suspicious object in the corner of his eye.

Squinting his eyes, Louis cautiously walked up to the object and carefully unwrapped it.

It was hollow and decorated with various shades of purple and random patterns.

Louis raised a brow as he inspected it from top to bottom, seeing no type of lid or opening on it.

However, he could hear something rustling inside.

'A bomb? No... It would be useless to design it and put it in a blanket. Then what...?'

"Louis!" you called out from the hallway, making Louis quickly wrap the blanket around the object and hide it under his bed.

You knocked on his door and peeked your head through the crack, "Breakfast is ready," you reminded, as he straightened up his coat.

"Right. Thank you, (Y/N)," he smiled politely, making you nod as you looked over to his desk, seeing the now empty space.

"You found my gift!" you beamed, making Louis freeze.

'It was a gift...?' he internally muttered as you rushed to hug him.

"Did you like it? It was my first time doing that type of chocolate, so I wasn't sure about it..." you muttered, making Louis feel twice as guilty.

"It's a lovely gift," he reassured, keeping his cool head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Thank you," he added, kissing your forehead, making you smile.

"So, have you opened it?" you excitedly ask, making Louis freeze.

"Open it...?"

"Yeah? Didn't you read the-"

"-Hey, look out!" Bonde's voice echoed, followed by various crashes.

"...I'll just ask you later..." you whispered, rushing downstairs.

For the rest of the day, Louis kept thinking about your gift.

He would sneak back into his room to try and figure out what kind of chocolate was your peculiar gift, let alone how to open it.

The sun had finally set, and Louis still had no clue.

"Was there a key I missed...?" he muttered, racking his brain for every possible answer.

As he walked into his room, he saw you with the gift in your hands.

"(Y/N)!" he called out, surprising you.

"Louis!" you breathed out, startled by his voice.

"Sorry. William asked me to bring some documents from your room, and my foot hit it while I was looking..." you explained, hugging your gift.

"Right," he muttered, feeling guilty as he looked away from you, unsure how to explain why your gift was stuffed under his bed.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" you asked, making Louis frown in defeat.

"...No... I'm sorry..." he sighed, making you chuckle.

"Come on," you grabbed his hand with a grin on your face,

"I'll show you how to open it,"

You led Louis to the gardens, spreading the blanket over the grass.

Meanwhile, Louis carefully watched you, holding onto the chocolate as he tried to figure out what you were trying to do.

"Here," you reached out your hand as Louis gave you the chocolate, an excited glint in your eyes.

You raised the gift over your head, looking at the blanket.

Louis' eyes widened upon realization.

"(Y/N), stop-!" he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you, but he was too late.

You smashed the chocolate over the blanket, revealing several little paper-folded hearts.

"Oh..." Louis breathed in relief, making you chuckle.

"It usually comes with a small hammer, but I thought writing "BREAK ME" was enough, and this was more fun! I guess it was too hard to read, huh?" you explained, gathering the paper hearts in your hand and sneaking some chocolate into your mouth.

"...I thought it was a design pattern," Louis sighed, moving every broken piece away from you as you snickered.

"You could have just asked. I wouldn't be mad,"

"It seemed rude..."

"Oh, please... Even I knew it looked wrong,"

"It had charm," Louis defended, popping some chocolate into his mouth.

"And it tastes superb,"

As you picked up the last paper heart, you grabbed Louis' hand and placed them all in his palm.

"Here," you took one out of the pile and opened it.

"This was your real gift," you smiled, giving him the note.

"To the man I couldn't imagine living this life without, I hope we have more years to come by each other's side."

"Pretty cheesy, huh?" you nervously laughed, looking away as your face grew warm.

Louis smiled at the note and neatly folded it, tucking it carefully into his pocket.

"No, it's perfect," he reassured, lifting your chin and kissing your cheek.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he smiled, his fingers trailing down to your shoulder down to your hand, intertwining your fingers.

"For both gifts," he added, making you smile.

"You better have something good for White Day then," you teased, making him chuckle.

"I'm not sure if I can be on par with yours, but I'll try."

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.47 So anxious

We stumbled into the house, still in each other's arms, still trying to eat each other's face. The hunger inside overwhelmed me, and I had to have her. Expeditiously. I didn't care to look around and see what her house looked like. The only thing I wanted to see was her naked body. We shed our coats, and I finally got to see what she had on. It was a tastefully sexy outfit that hugged her in all the right places, and I appreciated it oh so much. She tried to pull away from me, but I pulled her back. I waited a long time for this, and I wasn't ready to let her go yet.

"Luca, wait," she said. "Let's go upstairs."

Right. A bed would be more comfortable. I followed her upstairs, practically running behind her, eager to get this party started. She didn't have much furniture, and the walls were a nauseating shade of pink. Curtains would have been nice, especially given what we were about to do. But did I let that deter me? Absolutely not. If anyone watched us...well...I hope they enjoyed the show.

She sat on the bed, slowly leaning back, smiling and beckoning for me to come closer. I didn't need to be asked twice. She pulled me on top of her as I crawled onto the bed. Our kisses were even hungrier than before, and I knew the moment would happen soon. I wanted to do it so badly, but my thoughts began to hem me up again. What if I'm not good at it? Should I tell her this is my first time? Dad said to be honest, but did she really need to know? Whether or not telling her was a good idea, me being anxious about it was not, so I pulled away.

"Wait," I said. "Ummm... I gotta tell you something."

I saw a flash of panic run across her face. Great. Now I've alarmed my date.

"Don't tell me you have a WTD," she said in a threatening tone.

"What? No. I definitely do not have that."

"Oh, thank Watcher. Well, what is it then?"

"Uhhhhh..."

Why was it so hard? It was nothing to be ashamed of, but somehow I felt like I was about to ruin our night.

"I, ummm, I feel like you should know...I've never done this before."

If looks could kill, I'd be a dead man.

"Please tell me you're kidding," she said.

"I'm not."

She fell backward and growled like a teenager having a fit. It felt like the perfect time to say "I'm sorry," but what exactly would I be apologizing for? Being responsible enough to not drag her and others into my mess? Being respectful and not collecting women like Void Critter cards? It took a lot for me to get to that moment. She should feel special I chose to do this with her.

"Do you at least have-"

"Yes," I said. "I have protection."

Thank you, Dad, for that timely gift because it definitely saved the night. She got over whatever offended her, and we spun out of our clothes. Her body was every bit as perfect as I imagined, dangerously curvy, and way too pleasing for my eyes. I wasn't sure how much more teasing I could take before I exploded.

My breaths increased the closer she got to me. I thought she was going to tease me with more passionate kissing, but she pushed me with enough force to make me fall backward onto the bed.

"I'm on top."

What was that supposed to mean? Did she just like being on top, or should I be offended? My thoughts began to spiral again. First she laughed at my advance on the ride, and now she's mad about me being a virgin. Did that disqualify me from making sure we had a good time? My mind could have gone on and on down that rabbit hole, but she lowered herself onto me and short-circuited my brain with the first thrust.

[new-berry]

I don’t intend to write more of this but I wanted to write it so I’d stop thinking if it to get the other fic down.

Warning for possessive partner. I was thinking of the first international cap idea and what is the player had a partner.

The body crowds behind him, firm strong arms over Anthony’s waist holding him close, cradled against a hard chest.

“You done with your boys?” He’s aiming for neutral. He misses by a wide mark.

“Tradition.” The word sits as heavy in Anthony’s mouth as the arms yanking him closer. Tight around Anthony’s waist and his face presses into the back of Anthony’s neck. Anthony bows his head forward. Easier to give him space straight away. “I wanted to celebrate your goal with you.”

Anthony’s fingers rest in his forearms the muscles there are taunt like even this way almost cutting his breath off he wants to hold tighter. Cut his breath off. Cut him in half.

“I’m here,” Anthony tells him, maybe the strain in his voice is breathless anticipation not breathlessness. “Celebrate with me now.”

“It’s spoiled.” His voice is petulant. He’s Picking a fight.

“Not for me,” Anthony makes his voice coaxing, hint of honey in the words. “At Wembley for England, you were the first person I got to celebrate with…”

He smiles, mouth moving against the back of Anthony’s neck, “I made sure you had your moment first. Pulled back for the cameras.”

“But now we’re here.” The words fall a bit flat in the room and Anthony folds lightly holding fingers around his forearms, “together.”

“I’m out the next game,” his voice is accusatory, like Anthony gave him the yellow card. His arms creep tighter. “Would have been nice to have you here.”

“Tradition,” Anthony gasps out. “They are the boys in my team. Gotta make sure they are okay.”

The arms let him go and Anthony takes a deep shuddering breath. The mouth on the back of his neck swipes across deliberately. Once, twice, the scuff of his beard to rough up the skin.

“I have an early flight,” Anthony’s told. “It’s bullshit,” he pulls the front of Anthony’s shirt up. Scrapes his nails across Anthony’s stomach. Anthony had told he liked it, once. Still does if it’s soft enough. The tinge when it’s just this side of ticklish. He makes it just this side of painful.

“How early?” Anthony can’t check his watch now, gold and heavy and an early gift, but he can later, work out how to stretch out the time.

“Why? You got plans?” Grumpy and suspicious and Anthony rests his palm flat in the back of the stroking hand, slotting their fingers together. “Do we have time just for,” his tongue stumbles over the words, “fun? Or can I wake up next to you?”

“Why did you sign a new contract?” Anthony’s hand is dropped, he steps hard against Anthony’s back dark skinned hand around Anthony’s pale throat. Cupped loosely, tilting his head to the side to whisper into the tendon of his neck. “Could have have come to Spain and played with me.”

“Don’t think I’m going to get in over Mbappé,” Anthony keeps his voice light.

“He’s shit,” grumbled back. His other hand snakes down under Anthony’s sweats, “did you fuck them?” Anthony shakes his head. “Did they fuck you?” A hard cock pressed against his ass insistently.

“Just some head,” Anthony makes ‘mmmm’ sound, rocks his hips up and thinks about the two defenders kissing and how cute they looked. It has the desired effect, Remebering Tino’s tongue sliding into Lewis mouth. Anthony starting to get hard in his hand. “They didn’t touch me. They are tucked up together for anything else.”

“Nothing?” His voice is more mollified starting to stroke Anthony slowly, hand a loose fist. “A kiss for tradition.” Anthony tries to turn around but he’s held firmly, hand around his throat present but not constricting.

“Just one?”

“One each.” Anthony tells the careful lie.

“I get more than one,” he’s told. His voice amused now and Anthony sighs.

He turns and is allowed to. Carefully wrapping both arms around his neck. “I’m sorry Nick wasn’t here love.” Leaves a couple of slow open mouth kisses against his cheeks, scrunched down to make him seem taller.

“You got me all night. You can sleep on the plane. I’ll sleep on the trip home,” he backtracks, “up north. I’m yours all night.”

“Not just at night,” he’s reminded. “All the time.” Anthony nods. “All the time,” Anthony agrees.

[tammyfeabakker]

Whats going on in my neck of the woods... my check engine light came on. Air flow throttle body. Ran to the shop. Chris got me the only one left. He hooked up his code reader. Pressed a button. Said you'll be ok. If thats the case why am I putting in a throttle body if you jus press a button on your code reader? Hmmmmmm. Its been bout a month still hasn't put my throttle body in. Trouble in paradise again must of been a fight. Him and my neighbor his ex girlfriend seem to have sizzled out. Going strong there. I havnt seen her or the dog. I seen the dog not her though. My emily jus announced her n her boyfriend are calling it quits. She wouldn't explain jus they have called it quits. She says she is OK. Still wondering what the fuck happened. My job I know its been taking my time up .. I had 4 days coming I was off but no! I'm having a hard time with target. They have a stocking policy. My job is like go in there get a zebra clear off a endcap. A endcap is the end of a aisle in a store. Fucking companies pay up to 50k for a endcap. I jus can't go in there clear a endcap off. For another company! Wtf! Jus because I have a letter to do so! Means shit! I wonder what the old merchandiser did. Lie on the job app. Yeah I packed out 3 but I really didn't. This info goes back to the seller they think they are selling when their not. Me I'm like no . I didn't pack out because I'm not allowed! God! So neca has me grid lock i was told by the receiver I'm not allowed to pack out! Because there's a system. Target has stockers those stockers get a list. Now if I go in there pull shit those stockers get fucked up. My company probably take target from me. Because I'm following instructions! Give it to someone else that will lie and say yeah I packed out 6. Hasbro is like we are selling stuff. My company been in buisness for 39 years how I don't know. Obviously the info being sent is wrong. I had a gift card reset omg! I was going to fuck up some one. Cards falling off the pegs. Why is there 245 amazon gift cards on a fucking peg? I did a count 245 amazon I can't go over 50. Companies keep sending and sending. Like neca they lost space. Keep sending product for a large space. They no longer have. Walgreen gift cards I would of quit my job. My company gave me 6 hours what a fucking joke! If I had to do it. 9 hours tops. I had one 4hours it took 2 people 3 hours. I did one by myself 4hours I was given which was bigger then the 2 people one. I did it in 4 hours did I do it right dunno. Walgreens I have been hit up twice there by pan handlers. The world is coming too. A guy sleeping behind rite aid. Pan handlers everywhere Cumberland mall is loaded at every light. People riding bikes in store parking lots looking in cars. I ignored the one pan handler chased me down to my car! I don't have it to give but I did. Going through my whooping 45 dollars he is like 20s are good I was like get the fuck out here! 5 I gave him 5. Because I had 2 20s and a five. I don't carry money because of this shit. Its bad. I have to watch leaving California.com because it was said someone is profiting off the homeless situation. Yeah let the immigration flow! Pay them but don't give to the ones that pay into the system that lost everything elderly living in cars. This is ridiculous! Someone is making money off our homeless. Hmmmmmm.

[an-aura-about-you]

am I really gonna move on with another chapter of Handbook for Mortals right now?

why yes, yes I am. because I know what comes next in this chapter, too, and I have no idea what this recap is gonna look like.

Chapter 15:

when we last left our hero, Scheherazade's relationship is on the rocks due to a make out with tongue misunderstanding that she decided not to clear up the easiest way possible and now Mac has left the show.

Chapter 15: The Tower

-the card chosen for the chapter title is actually relevant for once.

-staying true to the rest of the book so far, we skip over the entire show and go straight to the finale. we're finally gonna see a magic trick Zade performs for her job besides the high dive trick she auditioned with.

-Zade has decided to use "complex deep chaos-based magick" for this trick, which is dangerous because it can backfire if not done correctly. she does this because..... why does she do this?

once again all of Zeb's concern is 100% warranted.

-Zade has never done anything this hard or complex before, which means now is clearly a great time to start.

-Sofia got her singing job. good for her. glad to see she's living the dream. <3

-we've already started on the Incredibly Dangerous Illusion and Zade's mind is wandering to Mac. good start!

-she is, for some reason, conflicted about what she should say to Mac about who Charles is to her.

-ok so we've got the first bit of what this illusion does: generates a storm indoors. okay. neat.

-Zade reminds us twice in two back to back paragraphs that the power she's messing with is both strong and volatile AND that she hasn't quite mastered it yet. again, solid plan here. can't see how it might go wrong. definitely something you should do for Knockoff David Daddy Copperfield.

-"...it can all go to H-E-double-hockey-sticks real quick."

this book is supposedly not a YA book.

-Charles has been narrating her illusion, and she says he's a gifted storyteller like all magicians should be, but the whole purpose of magician patter is misdirection! something Charles doesn't need to provide in an illusion using Real Fucking Magic.

-next part of the illusion: the storm makes a wave crash over Zade, causing her to disappear.

-next part: rain from the storm turns to sand as it hits the stage and piles up only to be struck by lightning, leaving a glass sculpture of Zade. I feel like I'm watching a knockoff Salvador Dali painting come to life.

-we get a warning that Zade is Not Feeling So Great at this stage of the illusion.

-next part: another lighting strike, this one producing a rapidly growing apple tree complete with full grown man that falls out of it.

-"I could actually feel the wonder in the audience." really? because I kinda feel the way I would had someone put on a tame knockoff of a Lynch movie at a planetarium. I would think it's a nice visual thing with some obvious human parts working in it, but my own guess as an audience member would be this was some kind of shadowcast projection thing. all of it is impossible to such a degree that no sleight of hand is feasible for it. so without the explanation that it's all Real Actual Magic, the obvious fill in is this is some really good special effects and Zade actually isn't doing anything except acting against a projection. kinda like the Liam Neeson stuff in Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of The War of the Worlds.

she is, by all appearances, doing less than an actual magician's assistant would since I learned from the Breaking the Magician's Code specials that a lot of magic tricks rely on the skills of a well trained assistant or assistants.

-they throw some apples from the apple tree as a proof that it's real, which is the first thing that could possibly have a sleight of hand counterpart and thus is the first thing I as an audience member would consider a magic trick in all this.

-also are we sure chaos-magick apples are safe to eat?

-let's see, the man chops the apple tree down, wood chips fly into the audience. again, I would consider this bit a possible trick, but all of it feels like I'm just in some kind of interactive show? you know like the ones where you're like on the river rapids and it sprays water on you? this just doesn't feel like a magic trick overall, it feels like watching a short story.

-"If anyone had doubted it was a real tree they would have had to believe it at this point." no they wouldn't because it's not difficult to project the image of a falling tree, make the sound of a tree crashing into a stage, and throwing wood chips into the audience. also, why would you WANT them to think it's a real tree when you are trying to keep your magic SECRET?

-tree catches fire somehow (it is not specified as an explosion, but even then I don't know if any apple trees are also explody trees?) and a wind blows the sand up, blocking this from view.

-sand settles, fire and tree are gone, replaced by a wardrobe. the man opens the wardrobe to show it's empty, closes it, opens it again to take out a guitar and start playing. again, all things that are simple to do with projection and a sound system.

-he also puts the glass sculpture of Zade in the wardrobe

-Zade is feeling even worse and tells us she has to hold it together for just a bit longer because the illusion is almost done. good.

-wardrobe is struck by lightning, splits in two, and Zade is revealed. she then pulls an apple from her pocket, takes a bite, and faints. the man catches her, kisses her, and she wakes up. she gives him a bite of the apple, he disappears. so the man appearing and disappearing could be an illusion. that makes like 2-3 disappearing/reappearing tricks all in one with a whole bunch of special effects around them that I don't care about.

you know what's more impressive to me? the simple illusions. in fact, one of the ones that still gets me every time I see it is how the Phantom disappears at the end of The Phantom of the Opera as performed at the Royal Albert Hall. it's a simple but effective execution and stands out even more since it's not a magic show but a musical.

but this, this is SUPPOSED to be a magic show! there should be a LOT of magic! and it can be impressive to see multiple displays of the same kind of trick, especially with a specialist in it, but the thing about disappearing/reappearing act is it's the same visuals over and over again! idk maybe that's my bias since I tend to not care as much for disappearing acts, but I literally just cited a disappearing illusion as a favorite!

here, let's look at a simpler display I find more impressive than whatever the fuck Zade is doing with chaos magick. this is Francis Tabary, a magician who specializes in rope illusions:

I first saw a variation of this routine in the mid-90s on The World's Greatest Magic and I still enjoy seeing it. every single trick is just done with a rope, but it is visually varied and interesting. I get the feeling I could be sitting less than three feet away from him and I still wouldn't be able to fully see how he does it.

(also I love when he has to do his patter in English because he says, "I hope you will understand what I say and not what I do.")

-that was a nice detour and now I'm gonna go back to the book.

-Charles puts the cloak on Zade, who feels like she's dying inside. Me Too, Girl.

-lightning strikes Zade and she disappears. apparently with the magic going wrong she actually felt the lighting. why would you subject yourself to this when you didn't have to? literally you didn't have to. there was no reason to do a trick like this. why did you build the trick like this?

-Charles then picks up an apple, takes a bite, and disappears. that's it, the trick is finally over after 10 pages of description. this is the thing Zade has been working on with Charles that merited a big red carpet premiere. I want my $2 for the children's admission ticket for the planetarium field trip back.

-pfffff piece of shit dad out there taking his bows not even noticing that Zade's not out there to bow with him because she's suffering from magic internal bleeding.

-also, damn, gotta say Cam's doing a good job running this show on the fly. not one missed cue! that we know about, anyway. let's be real, that does seem like even odds on this being either a detail Sarem would ignore completely or would spend a solid 2/5ths of the chapter going over.

-the cat is sitting on the book again. also me, he is sitting on me.

-Zade manages to collapse in Zeb's arms, which wouldn't have been her first choice because she'd much rather do that with Jackson. but Zeb is like one of the few people who's gonna know what's going on! this is like the ideal situation once shit's fucked!

-Zade tells the gang backstage to call her mother before things go black.

then we get this:

That's the last thing I personally remembered from that day. Later, after I'd had some time to rest, I pulled out the memories of what everyone else saw and what happened.

so good news, we know Zade is gonna be perfectly fine! no need to worry about pesky things like tension!

-apparently fucking the magic up enough has left Zade in a state where she's practically choking on her own blood.

-Mac came back in time for all this btw. and instead of anyone trying to put Zade down in the recovery position (which idk if that's even appropriate for this but that seems moot since magic malady) or listen to the 911 dispatcher that Tad had Riley call, they just let Mac take over holding Zade.

-oh my god, even with all this going on, Zade notices in the memories that Zeb looks somewhat upset and thinks, "Maybe he didn't hate me after all." priorities.

-Charles says he's going with Mac to the hospital, and Mac is burned by this but at least has the good sense not to argue right now.

-omg Zade has to tell us the memories are painful to see because all of the people who love her are hurting soooooo much to see her suffering~

-Mac has enough of himself put together to be pissed at having to drive Charles and Charles is too upset to notice.

-Zade is actually getting care from a doctor that is implied to be the head doctor of the hospital. nothing but the finest for our mary sue.

-oh boy here we fucking go guys: the doctor asks for a member of the family since Zade is unconscious and can't consent. after being pressed, Charles reveals that he's Zade's father.

was it worth it?

-Mac then says he saw Charles and Zade kiss, which clearly grosses Charles out. also a lie since remember he couldn't bare [sic] to watch Zade and Spellman kiss.

-I don't know why Mac needs to talk about this now when the doctor obviously needs somebody to give the go-ahead on something. which also doesn't make sense to me because it seems like they could still do something to at least stabilize Zade, but maybe they're at that point and it's just not specified.

-omg Mac asks Charles if Zade knew this and he said yes. the book is right here confirming that Zade has known that Charles is her father. 0 excuses for any of the bullshit she's been pulling.

-apparently Zade found out recently, but by "recently" we mean "since basically the start of the book and that's when she came to work for him," which still means "the whole time," for our purposes.

ok to be fair it is not made clear if she knew before or after she actually got the job. it's possible this reveal happened during the conversation we were not made privy to in chapter 2. but it's ambiguous enough that it's possible Zade has known since chapter 0.

-Mac rethinks everything and considers how it makes sense now, but I still thing Zade's behavior has incestuous tones, like how she tried to reassure Mac about Spellman taking her to dinner with, "A girl's gotta eat." Zade obfuscated everything in the worst possible way when she could have used other tactics.

-also as far as why Charles hasn't said anything until now, he said he was abiding by Dela's wish to keep it secret. it is not made clear if this is some kind of binding magic taboo or not. it's certainly implied to be, but so far we haven't been made aware of the terms of this taboo. which seems pretty important since not only has he just broken it by telling the doctor, it seems possible that he ALSO broke it by telling Zade!

this also puts chapter 0 in a different light if the catalyst for Zade leaving home was finding out Spellman is her father, which would actually make sense. but again, if that's the case, then that means Zade knew the entire time and has been emotionally tormenting Mac for no good reason.

-I Would Like It If This Book Stopped Talking About The Concept Of Zade And Her Dad Making Out.

-Charles then tells Mac that Zade kissed him on the cheek, making the make out with tongue paragraph from the last chapter even worse since we were just gonna see the same thing in THIS chapter!

-Mac said Zade wasn't lying, but she was!! it's called lying by omission! she was intentionally leaving important information out!

That!

Is!

Lying!!!!!!

-oh hey Lambo Girl is here! she's here just to be seen for some reason. who knows why.

-the doctor makes an offhand mention of Dr. House and the book grinds to a halt for a full page to explain who House is because Charles didn't get the reference.

-man, it's so sad seeing Zade in her ICU hospital bed all covered in IV lines and tubes knowing full well she's gonna be perfectly fine by the end of the book.

-Dela calls Charles right after they all get settled in the room. damn, this is what you're using your magic for?

-Dela knows what's wrong. Charles suggests she come to Las Vegas. Dela insists they have to bring Zade to Tennessee. WHY? doesn't this sound like the more dangerous thing to do?

-Dela's explanation is that she needs her tools and her altar. I'm calling bullshit. you can bring your tools and build an altar where you need to. even if it needs like a special altar, you don't think you can find one in Vegas? we already know there are other people who know magic here; if it's like a church thing where it doesn't have to be an altar you build yourself, why not use one there? and if it has to be one you made, why not make one? this just sounds like putting your daughter through needless risk.

-"She could die. Couldn't she?" but she won't because she's telling the story.

-Dela is laying out tarot cards during this conversation. "She examined the cards carefully as if she were deciphering a code. That's kind of how reading cards goes." the narration says that like it hasn't shown us Zade doing the most incompetent card reading I have ever seen.

-why is Zade giving us a tarot card lesson while recounting her near-death experience?

-"Only sometimes can you change your destiny but that is hard and is a subject for another time and a later book." are you seriously giving me your discount knockoff May Those Who Accept Their Fate Be Granted Happiness, May Those Who Defy Their Fate Be Granted Glory speech, Miss "The Cards Haven't Told Me Which Boy I Should Marry"? not to mention a Michael Ende-esque hint to tantalize at another book.

-we get a full paragraph to explain the waxing and waning moon. not just the significance of those times in witchcraft, which even that's dumbed down, but what waxing and waning themselves mean.

you've literally covered this book with the triple moon symbol.

also Dela mentions the moon is waning. this could have been the opening to give the context that would explain it without having to go all baby dictionary on us, like saying the spell will have to be done on the night of the new moon.

-I'm glad the doctor likewise thinks letting Zade fly to Tennessee in her condition is nutso bananas.

-oof, the doctor's gonna make Charles sign a release that he understands that Zade is now his responsibility and that this may kill her. his priority, according to the narration, is avoiding a lawsuit. good god, does ANYONE in this book have even a shred of compassion? possibly not considering Sarem's callousness.

and the chapter ends with Charles telling Mac the two of them need to take Zade to Tennessee and reaffirming everything we had just learned from Dela.

just to rephrase this, the chapter ends with our big strong powerful honest to goodness magic using not like other girls protagonist at death's door for reasons that are pretty much her fault and needing to be rescued by her mother, her father, and the guy she's been kissing but they have not defined their relationship and parted on bad terms when they last saw each other and also she's been lying by omission to him. I think that covers everything.

[august-grey]

I don't need your closure | chapter 13

read on ao3

masterpost

July 1986

This was it. This was how Alice was going to die. Not at the hands of evil Russians miles below a shopping mall or torn to shreds by one of the multitude of monsters that plagued her little town. No, she was going to go out in the passenger seat of he mother’s Volvo, knuckles white around the handle on the door, foot punched down the invisible brake pedal. 

Fighting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, Alice contemplated the choices that led her to this moment. How had she gone from taking Dustin to an orthodontist appointment to fearing for her mortal wellbeing in a mostly empty strip-mall parking lot with her 15-year-old brother behind the wheel of their mother’s car? 

Alice looked over at the boy in question, his eyes wide and laser-focused on the pavement, and reminded herself why she was doing this. 

“So, I’m taking driver’s ed next year.” Dustin piped up from the passenger seat, his lisp a little more pronounced after getting his braces tightened.

“Oh yeah?” Dustin gave a grunt of affirmation. “Mr. Paulson still teaching that?”

“Uh-huh, I heard he’s brutal.” Alice nodded emphatically. That was putting it lightly. Dustin continued, “Lots of kids…they’re getting practice over the summer…just to get a head start, y’know? Mike’s and Lucas’ dads have taken them out a bunch. Mike’s even been on a real road already.”

“That’s not a bad idea, extra practice would definitely help. Paulson flunked me twice before I finally got my license. Just never really got a chance to practice after dad left and everything. Has mom taken…” She trailed off, a sudden realization dawning on her. No. Of course mom hadn’t had the time to take Dustin out to drive. Their mother barely had time to take care of herself let alone teach her anxious children to maneuver a vehicle.

Not for the first time, Alice found herself cursing her father. Don’t get her wrong, Alice was glad that her parents were divorced. Michael was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve anything her mother had to offer. She’d always known that her mother was too good for that sorry excuse of a human. Alice just wished he had found a scrap of humanity before abandoning his family, leaving them with nothing but a forwarding address and a promise to see his children at Christmas.

Alice hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when Christmas came and went without even a phone call, but Dustin…Dustin had been heartbroken. For months afterward he waited for their father to simply return. To change his mind, realize that he had made a mistake and come home to his family. The brief phone calls from Michael yielded empty promises of going for ice cream or baseball games, leaving Dustin disappointed again and again as plans fell through. 

Anger festered inside Alice, finally bubbling over one day as she sat with her little brother as he watched the sky darken out their front window, waiting for their father’s car to pull into the driveway for a belated birthday visit. Dustin’s thirteenth birthday had been three weeks prior, and the bastard still couldn’t be bothered to even give his son this small gift.

Down the hall, Alice heard her mother leave yet another message for her ex-husband. He wasn’t coming, Alice had a feeling from the beginning. Knowing this didn’t make the situation any easier. A small shake of their mother’s head when she returned to the living room was all it took for Dustin’s resolve to crumple. Running into his mother’s arms, he buried his face into her chest, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. 

Alice needed to hit something. Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She wasn’t going to let her father get away with hurting her brother like that. Not again. While the rest of her family was distracted, Alice smuggled her mom’s car keys out of her purse and drove the three hours to their father’s new bachelor pad, stopping only to grab a birthday card from a random drug store. 

Michael could only stare at his daughter, open-mouthed, as she shoved the card into his hands, demanding he sign it for Dustin. He did so, hastily shoving a few twenties in the envelope for good measure. Then he had the gall to ask Alice how she was doing. Ignoring his question completely, Alice simply told her father to either make a real effort to have a relationship with his son or to leave them the hell alone. 

She couldn’t remember the half-excuse he had spluttered out as she left him in the doorway, but she did remember crying the entire ride home. She remembered the look on Dustin’s face as she pressed the card into his hands and being grounded for a week for disappearing with her mother’s car for seven hours on a school night. She remembered being the one to step up in her father’s place. Taking Dustin to school and to extracurriculars, helping her mother with home repairs, picking up extra chores around the house. 

And now, she supposed, she was going to have to teach her father’s youngest how to drive.

***

“Okay, now slowly—“ Dustin slammed the brakes at the edge of the lot, jolting Alice forward in her seat. She took a calming breath before gently correcting him as he turned the wheel, taking the car down the row of shopfronts. “Try to ease into the stops, Dusty. Gently press the brake as you’re coming up to the—oh Jesus.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He exclaimed, shifting the direction of the car after coming a little too close to the curb. “This is awful, how do you do this every day without feeling like you’re going do murder someone with this death-machine?”

“You just have to…I don’t know…give it time and you kinda become one with the death-machine?” Her brother shot her a quick, bewildered glance. “Does that make sense? It gets easier with practice, I promise. Just…try to relax.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He groaned miserably, braking a little too hard again in the back corner of the lot. Fumbling around the console in a panic, he flipped on the turn signal, then the windshield wipers. “At this rate I’ll never be comfortable behind the wheel and I’ll never get my license and...and— Alice, how do I put this stupid thing in park?!”

“Calm down, you’re fine.” She reached over, moving the shifter into park and turning off the ignition. As soon as he was able to release the brake, Dustin threw himself from the Volvo. Alice rolled her eyes at his dramatics and exited the vehicle herself. “You’re not going to be amazing right away, Dustin. It’s going to take time. We’ll go out more once I get my car back and you’ll be a pro by the end of the summer. Paulson won’t know what hit him.”

Dustin didn’t look convinced. He leaned against the hood of the yellow Volvo and buried his face in his hands. Alice felt a little out of her depth; she was usually the one freaking out in every situation. Her brother was normally overly confident in nearly everything he did. He’d thrown himself into countless dangerous situations without a second thought; seeing him freak out over driving of all things was disconcerting to say the least. 

“Are you hungry? We can stop for burgers or something?” Food. If there was anything that could distract Alice from an anxiety spiral, it was a good, greasy meal. Surely that would work on her brother, too.

He shook his head glumly, looking forlornly across the parking lot. “Nah, my mouth is still sore from the orthodontist.”

Alice sighed. She didn’t like it, but she had one last idea that could bring up his mood, even just for the moment. 

“You wanna stop in RadioShack before heading home?” That got his attention. Shooting Alice a Cheshire grin, Dustin took off across the pavement toward the electronics store.

She trailed behind him, shouting, “You have twenty minutes! Any longer and you’re walking home!”

***

RadioShack had been a mistake. Sweat dripped down her neck as Alice glanced down at her watch; Dustin had been in the shop for nearly 45 minutes and she was slowly losing her mind. By the time she popped into the shop, Dustin had already been neck deep in whatever gadget he needed for his project of the week. 

Deciding she didn’t want to get roped into a one-sided conversation she couldn’t keep up with (she wasn’t feeling that generous), Alice picked up a small pack of batteries for her Walkman and left her brother muttering to himself over a display of tiny voice recorders. 

Five minutes. She’d give Dustin five more minutes and then she’d go in there and physically drag him out if she needed to. The midday sun emerged from behind a cloud, shining through the windshield and effectively blinding Alice. Make that two minutes.

“Alice?” Jumping at the sound of her name, Alice scanned the parking lot for a familiar face. The lot had become considerably more full than it was during Dustin’s impromptu driving lesson, but it didn’t take long to find the source of the voice before they flung themselves halfway through Alice’s open window, obscuring her vision with a mop of messy brown hair.

“Jesus, Robin, back up would ya?” Alice grasped her assailant by the shoulders and gently shoved her out of her personal bubble. Robin dropped to a crouch next to the car, so she was level with the open window, eyes wide and panicked.

“Thank god you’re here. Wait…why are you here? Y’know what nevermind, I’m in a crisis and I need you to talk me down.” 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Reaching for the handle of door, Alice gave the seemingly innocuous plaza a once over, searching for anything out of the ordinary or potentially dangerous. Robin rested a hand on her arm, drawing Alice’s attention back to her.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Robin took a deep breath, opened her mouth to speak again, and…stopped. Alice furrowed her brow and waited for the girl to speak. After a few long moments of silence, Alice gestured impatiently for Robin to continue. 

“I’ve been invited to a party.” She finally blurted out, expectantly looking to Alice for advice. 

“Okay.”

“By a girl.”

“Okay?”

“A specific girl.”

“…okay?”

“…a specific redheaded clarinetist with incredible taste in movies.”

“Oh! Oh my god, okay! When did this happen?”

“Just now, in the Rite-Aid tampon isle.” Robin stated miserably, popping up from her position by the door to pace the pavement. “So you see my problem, now!”

“Uh no, am I missing something?” Taking her chances with the angry July sun, Alice exited the blessed cover of the car as she watched her friend frantically pace the length of the adjacent parking space. “You like Vickie. This is good news, Robin!”

“No, Alice, this is an absolute nightmare!”  Robin stopped to run both of her hands through her hair, making her bangs stick up in perfectly odd angles to add to the slightly manic aura she was giving off. “Before this moment, Vickie had been purely a hypothetical. I could daydream all I want, but now, now…this is real life. She asked me to a party. And what’s going to happen, huh? I’m going to make a fool of myself and word vomit all over her and she’ll be horrified and I’ll be arrested for…for something. I’m sure I’ll deserve it at that point.”

Alice shook her head in disbelief. What was up with everyone today? First Dustin with his driving lesson, now Robin was having a complete meltdown on her watch. It was only a matter of time, she supposed, seeing as both Robin and Dusin had dealt with their fair share of Alice’s neuroticism. The least she could do was return the favor.

“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we? You’re not cut out for prison, no offence.” Alice stepped forward, reaching up to smooth Robin’s hair back to its normal state of messiness. Once she was satisfied, Alice settled her hands on the taller girl’s shoulders. “You just need backup, a wingman. We can make it a group thing. You, me, and Vickie.”

“That’s not a group, that’s you getting drunk and awkwardly chaperoning me like some sort of messed up, regency-era courting ritual, all while I desperately try not to make a fool of myself in front of a cute girl.” Robin mumbled through pursed lips. Though Robin wasn’t wrong, Alice didn’t exactly enjoy being reduced to nothing more than a bumbling overseer. As much as she wanted to help Robin, third-wheeling all night wasn’t necessarily Alice’s idea of a good time. 

She had an idea; whether it was a good one or not was the nagging question in the back of her mind. Briefly, Alice considered the last disastrous party she’s attended in Hawkins. It had been the precursor to what was possibly the worst night of her life, if you don’t take all of the the literal horrors and death she’d experienced over the past few years into account.

The night she was sure she’d lost her best friend. For good.

It’s different now, she reasoned with herself. She and Steve were on good terms; well on their way to friendship again. And though she didn’t yet have the full story of what had happened that night…or what had led to it, Alice could at least hope it wouldn’t happen again. There was only one way to find out, she supposed.

“I can, uh, askstevetogo.” Alice mumbled, half-heartedly tossing out the thought before she could stop herself. It wasn’t as if she was looking for an excuse to see him or anything, it just made sense. They are all friends. Friends go to parties together. As friends. “Then it’ll be a real group. Make things less weird, y’know?”

Robin’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she shimmied out of Alice’s grip. “Oh, no, no. You can’t just say something like that and not elaborate. Did you and Steve make up?”

“Kinda? We’re…talking. It’s not a big deal.”  Robin seemed unimpressed, to say the least. Alice knew the girl wasn’t going to let her get away with that bullshit answer, and with a sigh, launched into an abridged version of what had happened with Sudsy. How she and Steve had ended up babysitting together, how Alice had emotionally blown up and confronted him, and then the subsequent, tentative makeup.

Obviously, making up with Steve was, in fact, a big deal to Alice. The past week had been the happiest she’d felt in months, and as much as she hated to admit it, that had a lot to do with Steve Harrington. True to his word, Steve hadn’t pressured Alice into anything since their conversation the previous weekend. To no one’s surprise, especially Alice’s, it took less than a day before she found herself eager to see him again. 

So, after harassing Dustin for Steve’s new phone number, she called him. He sounded pleased, but genuinely surprised to hear from her so soon. The palpable fondness in his voice combined with the itch to be within arms reach of him again, was how she found herself inviting Steve to take a walk with her. 

For safety purposes, of course. 

You see, Alice had a new client. A big, goofy Great Dane, who needed to be walked while her human worked overnights. Normally Alice wouldn’t think twice before declining the job; she and the dark didn’t really get along after everything she had been through. But this particular client had offered double her regular fee just to feed the dog dinner and take her on a quick walk before bed.

Alice couldn’t refuse the easy money, but that still left the problem of having to be outside. In the dark. Alone. She sucked it up the first night, walked the half-mile to the clients house, took the pup around the block while her nerves spiked, and finally ended up sprinting home after making sure the dog was safely in bed, the plan to call Steve already on her mind.  

As she predicted, he eagerly agreed to accompany her the next night. And then the next, and the next…until they fell into an easy, somewhat familiar, routine. Steve would pick her up at 8:30 on the dot, they’d take care of the dog, and then just sit and talk until Steve had to get himself to bed for work the next day. Sometimes Dustin would join them, if he wasn’t off galavanting with his Dungeons and Dragons club or messing with machines in his bedroom. But, mostly, it was just the two of them.

He followed her lead at every turn. Never pushing for anything more than what Alice was comfortable with giving, keeping a respectable distance. Alice, on the other hand, was having an incredibly hard time sticking to her own boundaries. Despite her reservations, Alice physically couldn’t keep herself away from Steve. It was like that night babysitting Holly had broke open a dam in Alice’s brain. 

Steve Harrington loved her. 

Just the thought alone was hard for Alice to wrap her mind around. Truthfully, she was scared. Hell, Alice was terrified. And still justifiably angry on top of it all. Months of convincing herself to turn her hurt into hate couldn’t be washed away so easily. No matter how badly she wanted to believe that Steve was truly repentant and wanted to make things right with her, Alice couldn’t shake the feeling that although everything between them was going well now didn’t necessarily mean it wouldn’t go to shit just as quickly. 

But in spite of it all, it was just so easy to fall back into an familiar rapor with her former best friend. It was a more than little unnerving how effortlessly Steve had fit back into her life and, even moreso, how badly she wanted him to stay there.

***

“So, yeah. We’re talking. That’s it.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“Steve’s in love with you.”

“Apparently.”

“You’re in love with Steve?”

“I…yeah. I guess am.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Shit, Alice.”

Alice couldn’t agree more; shit.

***

Alice’s mother dropped her off at Robin’s house a full two hours early, at the younger girl’s request. Well…it sounded more like a panicked demand over the phone than a polite request, but Alice was willing to overlook that tiny detail. Either way, she was grateful for an excuse after Claudia had offered to drive the girls to the party itself. As much as she loved and appreciated her mom, that simply wouldn’t do.

“No, seriously, it’s okay, Mom!” Alice attempted to dissuade her mother. “It’s only a ten minute walk from Robin’s. You don’t want to drive all the way back out here in just to drive us less than a mile up the road.”

Reluctantly, Claudia agreed that the girls could take care of themselves, and left Alice and her overnight bag at Robin’s. She waited until her daughter was safely inside before waving and backing out of the driveway. 

In the time it took for Alice to arrive, Robin’s bedroom had descended into absolute chaos. Ninety percent of the time they had before the party was spent digging through the chaos that was Robin’s wardrobe, piecing together the perfectly casual, but not too casual because “then what if Vickie thinks I’m a slob! Don’t give me that look, you’re just as much a mess as I am,” outfit.

The other ten percent was taken up by relentless, teasing back-and-forth from both girls. It had started off with Alice clearly having the upperhand; gently mocking her friend as she tried on article after article of clothing. Alice was quite enjoying herself. That is, until it came time to talk to Steve about the party.

 In the end, it had been Robin who had called to recruit Steve as a secondary wingman and a ride home. It was stupid. The phone had been in Alice’s hand, she had dialed his number. His new number. The one for his fancy, independent, adult apartment. The first ring in her ear sent her stomach fluttering and her heart pounding, resulting in the phone being flung into a bewildered Robin’s hands.

Cooly recovering from Alice’s sudden panic, Robin had managed to convince Steve to meet them at the party. Alice hovered over her shoulder, ears straining to hear the other side of the conversation and chewing her pinky nail down to the nub. 

What was wrong with her? Alice chastised herself. She’d spoken to Steve on the phone quite literally hundreds of times. At least thrice that week alone. 

Inviting him to a party, though, somehow felt too much like she was back in middle school asking Matthew Miller to the Snowball, only to spend the night sulking on the bleachers after being stood up.

So, in true middle school fashion, it only made sense that she make her friend ask Steve, instead. Not that she thought Steve would stand her up. Because it wasn’t like this was a date or anything. This was merely a group outing with a couple of pals.

She’d never hear the end of it from Robin. 

***

The party itself was a docile thing, despite being packed with a couple dozen band nerds. The music was decent and the drinks were surprisingly good for a questionable concoction thrown together by a teenager. 

Robin zeroed in on Vickie the second they stepped through the door. When the redhead greeted both girls with a hug, Alice was impressed by how quickly Robin recovered from the close contact. 

As the night went on, much to Alice’s delight, it seemed that Robin’s initial apprehensions about the party were proving to be completely unnecessary. And though she was having a good time and was always glad to spend time with Robin, it really seemed like Alice’s presence was barely needed. 

It may have been the effervescent lighting on the dance floor or maybe the faint buzz of alcohol in her system, but Alice could swear Robin practically radiating confidence as she danced with the girls she had been pining over for months. Ever the dutiful friend, Alice swayed to the music with them, overthinking about what the correct amount of respectable distance would be. Not so close to the couple that she was invading their bubble, but not too far away to be unable to participate in conversation or miss any distress signals from Robin. 

Luckily for her, after some subtle comments from Robin, followed by a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs, Alice finally took the hint and excused herself. She counted this as a victory in staying firmly in wingman territory. There would be no outdated chaperoning tonight. 

Not quite sure what to do with herself after leaving the one person in the house she actually felt comfortable spending time with, Alice wandered through the festivities, stopping to chit chat with old classmates every so often. She certainly wasn’t looking for Steve. Not really. Was she disappointed he wasn’t there yet? Maybe, but mostly Alice just felt overwhelmed without someone to anchor her. 

In the end she parked herself on a couch in the den, only returning to the party proper to replenish her drink. It was quieter in there, and much less crowded than the main living areas. There were a few people playing scrabble at a card table in the middle of the room as movie played softly in the corner, a couple boys sprawled out on a rug in front of the the television, watching intently. This was definitely more her speed tonight. 

Unfortunately, despite being a refuge from the chaos, this was also how Alice found herself three and a half drinks deep, getting her ear talked off by goddamn Matthew Miller. Yes, that Matthew Miller. She had cursed herself by thinking of him earlier. It seemed Matthew had conveniently forgotten his eighth grade indiscretions. Sadly for him, Alice was excellent at holding a grudge, even through the pleasant, fuzzy haze of drunkenness. 

“Anyway, you’d be surprised by the kind of stuff you could get away with in college. No one cares, Henderson, you could do whatever you want.” Matthew had his arm stretched across the back of the couch, fingers lingering dangerously close to Alice’s shoulder. She clenched her plastic cup in her hand and stared straight ahead, willing someone, anyone, to save her from this conversation. Where the hell was Robin when she needed her? “And the girls, man. They’re nothing like high school chicks; everyone is just so open minded, y’know?”

“Mmhm.”

“Most of the them are just there looking for husbands, anyway, so it’s easier. That’s what Trevor says, anyway. You remember Trevor, right? He was french horn in high school, but we were roommates last semester, too. Anyway, it’s true though. These girls are just looking for someone to settle down and have babies with.”

Okay, that was quite enough of that. Alice threw the rest of her drink back, grimaced and finally turned toward Matthew with a withering scowl, preparing to lay into his insufferable, sexist ideas about women as a whole.

“First of all, you misogynistic prick, that’s—oh! ” Alice’s speech was slightly slurred, but not enough to hide the venom behind her words. Words that were all too suddenly cut off by the aforementioned prick making a bee-line for Alice’s lips, his eyes closed and mouth horrifyingly open. She threw herself backward into the arm of the couch at the last second, simultaneously pushing Matthew back into the cushions opposite her. “Oh, no thank you!”

The boy was clearly taken aback, or at the very least, not used to being turned down. “Are you sure? I thought we were having a moment!”

“What part of... of that ‘conversation’” Alice emphasized the word with some sloppy air quotes. “Made you think we were having a moment?! I might be drunk, but I’m not, like, random, regrettable hookup drunk, Trevor.”

“Matthew.” The boy corrected her with a glare. With practiced ease, he shifted his face into cool disinterest before plucking Alice’s empty cup from her hand. “I’m going to get us a refill. Maybe you’ll be a little nicer when I get back.”

Frowning deeply at his retreating back, Alice knew this was her chance to make a hasty departure. She just needed to get up. Which was easy, so easy. Or at least it would have been two drinks ago. The liquor had settled into her limbs, weighing her down like sandbags. It was fine, though. She just needed to flag down Robin to pull her out of the quicksand-like cushions that were sucking her deeper and deeper into the couch with every passing minute.

But where was Robin? Alice squinted her eyes, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd through the open doorway, but failed to spot either of the girls she’d been with earlier. This was also fine, surely someone had to know where they had disappeared off to. Triumph shot through Alice as she successfully caught the eye of a friendly face. She beaconed the familiar, fluffy-haired girl over.

“Kate. Kate listen, where is Robin?” 

“Hey Alice, you good?” Kate smiled down at her, amusement glinting in her eyes, before helpfully taking a quick look around the room. “I don’t really know, I’m sorry. I think she and Vickie were in the kitchen earlier, do you want me to go check?”

“You’re an angel, Kate, truly. A tumpeteer from the heavens.” The words tumbled from Alice’s mouth without filter. The lack of control should have mortified Alice, but she was well past the point of actually caring. Kate just chuckled, patted Alice on the head like a puppy, and made for the kitchen. 

No sooner did Alice’s ally disappear through one doorway, did her adversary emerge through another, a fresh plastic cup clutched in each hand. 

Shit. The time for games was over. Gathering every speck of willpower she possessed, Alice pushed herself up from the cavernous couch. Bad idea. Awful idea. She clutched the arm of the couch as the room moved around her, swaying and spinning like a carnival ride. Her stomach churned slightly. Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.

A hand appeared on her arm, steadying her. Instinctively, she swatted it away. Unfortunately, the sudden movement tipped Alice off balance just enough to send her falling back into the accursed couch. She glared up at her assailant, ready to lay into Matthew about touching her without consent. Oh. Not Matthew, then.

Steve, her knight in shining polo, loomed over her with bemusement etched into his features. A flash of annoyance coursed through her; where had he been an hour ago, before her night had started to go downhill? However, the feeling was quickly overshadowed by dread when she caught Matthew’s garish, caution-sign yellow t-shirt from the corner of her eye.

“Listen, I’m sorry I’m late, but you’re not going to believe the breakthrough I’ve had with Gladys—“

“Sit down,” she whispered to Steve, cutting him off as Matthew drew ever closer. Without a second thought, Steve slid into the seat next to Alice, side-eyeing the approaching figure. Alice clutched his arm, pulling him close like a human shield, as if she could camouflage herself with Steve’s considerably larger stature. “Pretend you’re talking to me.”

“Pretend to—we were talking, Alice. Until you rudely interrupted me.” Alice laughed loudly, tossing her head in the direction of where Matthew awkwardly hovered nearby, his shins bumping on the corner of the crowded coffee table. Steve snuck a peek, taking in the boy fumbling with the red cups in his hands, and nodded to signify he understood the situation. 

“Ah, I see. Okay, what angle are we going with here? The usual?” 

“Nuh uh, our moms work together. Dead grandma isn’t going to work.”

“What about my dead grandma?”

“Maybe. Can you even pull that off?”

“You underestimate me, Henderson.” Alice bit back a smirk as Steve took the challenge to heart. Without any sort of preamble he turned and pressed his forehead into her shoulder. Sliding his hand into hers, he gripped her fingers tightly and put in his best effort into looking the part of a grief-stricken man.

Alice froze.

For the first time, Alice was thankful for the alcohol that dulled her senses. Her heart fluttered as she tried not to think about the way his breath felt on her neck as he buried his face into her shoulder. Or the way the hard plane of his torso pressed into her own, or how it nearly took her breath away. 

Alice took a second to compose herself. You’re a goddamn professional, she scolded herself. This was a tried and true act, one that she and Steve had played out at least half a dozen times before to get out many an awkward encounter, though it was usually her amping up the dramatics. The proximity meant nothing, and Alice had better remember that. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d never been that close before. Closer, she recalled, heat pooling in her stomach. 

It had just been so long. 

But she could think about that later. Instead of lingering on feeling the heat of his skin on her body, she focused on the performance at hand. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Matthew finally piped up after what felt like an eternity of fake-comforting Steve as he fake-cried into the light cardigan she’d thrown over her tank top earlier in the evening. Alice glowered at him incredulously as she rubbed a comforting hand up and down Steves back. He was good, maybe too good. A wicked thought crossed her mind. Lets see how well he could do with this one.

“Shh, his guinea pig just died.” She hissed. Steve stiffened a bit, thrown off by Alice’s plot twist. She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping cool. “Show a little respect, Miller.”

“Damn, Harrington, I’m sorry man. Here,” Matthew deposited both cups of god-knows-what concoction, on the table before them.  “Have a drink for…for—“

“Henrietta.” Alice supplied, helpfully. 

“For Henrietta.” Matthew nodded and clapped Steve on the shoulder before hurrying away as quickly as his feet could take him. Once he was safely out of sight, Alice couldn’t hold back the peals of laughter. Steve took the moment to collect himself, smoothing back his hair and wiping the non-existent tears from his face. 

“Guinea pig?” Steve spluttered, shaking his head in disbelief. 

She shrugged helplessly. “You were so convincing, though, Steve! Why didn’t you ever try out for the school plays? We never had enough boys, they would have eaten you up.”

“Just another one of my many unrealized talents. Come on, lets go find the lovebirds. They’re around here somewhere.” He chuckled, rising from his seat. Offering a hand to Alice, he pulled her up with minimal effort. She felt steady enough on her feet to follow him through the house, but not before swiping her drink from the coffee table. 

 ***

“And then! After giving me all this bullshit about how these college girls are all so eager to throw themselves at him, he decides its a perfect time to go for it. Mouth. Wide. Open.”

“Please, tell me you’re kidding.” Robin and Vickie sat shoulder-to-shoulder on one of the few lounge chairs scattered across the backyard, twin expressions of disgust etched across their faces. Alice was sprawled across the foot of a shared lounge chair herself. Steve had somehow managed to fold himself onto a tight ball of limbs on the other half, leaving plenty of room for Alice to gesticulate wildly as she recounted every gory detail of her run-in with Matthew.

“I swear he like, unhinged his jaw or something.” Alice cackled, shifting her body to lean more of her weight onto Steve’s bent legs. At this point, she was sure he was the only thing keeping her upright. To his credit, he merely shifted to accommodate her, untangling himself slightly so that he could sprawl his legs out on either side of her. Alice took the opportunity to claim space of her own, scooting back to nestle her shoulder against his chest, while keeping her body angled to carry on her conversation. 

Sober Alice would have never, not in a million years. But drunk Alice was an entirely different story. She reveled in the easy way Steve slipped an arm around her waist, hooking his thumb through the belt loop on her hip. The action didn’t go unnoticed to the girl across from her, either. Robin caught Alice’s eye and gave a wink. Alice tried, and failed, to hide a grin. 

“Anyway, then Steve finally showed up, but Henrietta died and he started crying, which we all know is the ultimate boy repellent, so s’all good now.” 

“Wait, who’s Henrietta?” Vickie piped up, looking concerned by the mention of someone dying. 

“Steve’s guinea pig.” Alice yawned behind her hand, before resting her head on her folded knees. “But don’t worry, I’m not even a hundred percent sure she even existed.”

“She definitely never existed, you nerd.” Steve’s chest rumbled as he spoke, chuckling softly. 

The conversation drifted to movies and Alice’s altered state-of-mind had a hard time keeping up with titles and actors. Despite her lack of ability to make a mental contribution, Alice was overjoyed to see Robin so open and totally herself around Vickie. If anyone deserved to be in a happy relationship, it was Robin. Alice knew she couldn’t come close to understanding the nuances of being in Robin’s shoes, but she certainly knew the sting of unrequited love. 

Though, she supposed, her’s wasn’t really unrequited, now was it? Did it still count as unrequited if the feelings had actually been requited all along, but the other party had chosen to be an ass about them for the better part of a year instead of talking about said feelings? Either way, Alice felt a strong kinship with Robin in the whole romance department. 

Head swimming, Alice decided that last drink had been a bad idea. To her credit, she’d only drank half of it before a moment of clarity had her switching to bottled water, but it was enough to push her just a bit too far over her usual limit. Enough to completely disregard any and all inhibitions, but also, as it turned out, enough to make her very, very sleepy. 

The fourth time Alice’s head slipped from it’s perch, Steve let out a heavy sigh, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tighter into himself. Alice gave up trying to keep herself up and settled fully against his chest, letting her eyes drift shut. 

Everything about this was against Alice’s better judgement, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of how right it felt. The buttons of his shirt digging into her cheek, how his breath ruffled her hair as he dipped his head to whisper in her ear.

“Maybe it’s time to get you home, huh?” Alice’s eyes snapped open and forced herself upright. Absolutely not; there was no way she was about to cut Robin’s night short because she got a little too drunk and couldn’t keep her eyes open. 

“Nope, can’t go home.” She mumbled sleepily, pulling the front of her cardigan to wrap around her body a bit tighter to ward off the chilly night air.

“…why not?”

“Two reasons Stephen,” Alice held up a lazy finger, ticking off the first. “Number one; look at Robin.”

Steve grumbled but did as he was told, fixing his gaze on Robin, who was now visibly uncomfortable with the sudden attention Alice brought to her.

“When was the last time you saw Robin have a good time at a party?”

“I have tons of fun at parties all the time, Alice!” Robin protested from her chair. 

“Exactly. I’m not going to make her leave a nice time just so she could lay in bed listening to me snore all night.”

“I can take Robin home later.” Vickie nervously interjected, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “If that’s what you want, I mean. No pressure, it’s just…I’m having a nice time too.”

Robin visibly lit up at the prospect of actual Alone Time with her long-term crush. She nodded enthusiastically, a blush creeping up her neck. Alice flashed her what she hoped was a subtle thumbs up, which in hindsight was maybe a bit too subtle even for its intended recipient. Embarrassed, she tucked her hand back into her sweater.

“Oh, perfect. That problem was solved…quickly. Anyway, third of—“

“Second?”

“Second of all…I can’t go home drunk. My mom will cry and it’ll lead Dustin down a…a dark path of drugs and alcohol. You guys know the kid, there very impressionable at that age.” 

“That doesn’t seem likely.”

“You don’t know that. I just…I don’t like them seeing me like this. So I can…I’ll sleep it off on this lawn chair, I guess. If you don’t mind scooting…” She leaned forward as far as she could, giving Steve a chance to get up. He swung his long legs over the side of the lounge and hesitated, a brief flash of inner conflict crossed his face as he considered something.

“Or…”

“Or?”

“Or I can take you back to my place and you can sober up there.”

Alice clapped a hand over her speeding heart, face heating to what was sure sure to be a low-grade fever. What was this kid playing at? 

“Mr. Harrington, I think we’ve established I’m not that kind of girl!” She managed to choke out after her pulse calmed. 

“Jesus Christ, Alice, not like that!” He spluttered, taking a few steps back as though to put some distance between himself and Alice. Robin dissolved into a fit of mad laughter, completely ignoring the icy glare Steve shot in her direction. He placed his hands on his hips, looking absolutely exasperated by both girls. “I just figured my couch would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than a hard plastic chair, but if that’s what you’d prefer then by all means—“

“No, no! That’s…that’s actually super nice of you, Steve.” Alice tried to recover, feeling a small pang of guilt through the alcohol. She had misunderstood, of course Steve was just trying to help. That’s just what they did; they took care of each other. 

“Listen, don’t feel obligated or anything, it was just a suggestion. I can just as easily let you sleep right here, or take you to Robin’s, or to back to your house to corrupt Dustin. Just wanted you to have options, is all.” Steve rambled as Alice leant over to fish her purse from underneath the lounge. Stumbling clumsily to her feet, she looped her arm around Steve’s to regain some balance.

“Do you have snacks?”

“Ok, I’ve changed my mind. You’re not allowed in my home.” 

“Can we stop somewhere to get snacks?”

“Will you behave yourself if I say yes?”

“I can’t make any promises.”

[fourseasonsfigs]

The Moonlight on the Roof is Beautiful Tonight

But not as beautiful as A-Xu!

The lounging inspiration for this handsome fig set. Surely nothing could ruin the mood on such a beautiful night on the roof above (rechecks the ep) Cheng Liquor Store.

I missed this incredible set twice - first in the initial sales, and then was too slow to snap up the very few remainders when the fig maker released them. I consoled myself that I didn't really want it that bad (dear figthusiast, I sure did), and decided I would simply find a well priced set on Xianyu at my leisure.

I haunted Xianyu for months. Any time I saw a set, I'd have my agent inquire if it came with the roof, which had been an add-on purchase during original sales, and which in my mind was kind of the whole point of the set. Most did not. The few ones that did, I purchased and they were cancelled for various reasons. Finally, there was one set that showed up, and it came with the roof. Sounds great, right? Yeah, except for the price. 300 yuan. 300 yuan!! The original price, mind you, was 94.56 yuan plus a 9 yuan supplement for the roof, so basically 3x. Plus all the fees and stuff. I swore I'd never buy it at that kind of crazy pricing. It doesn't do to encourage scalpers, right?

And apparently I wasn't the only one who swore off of buying it, because every time I searched, there it was. The only one. Over and over and over. So yeah, more months went by.

The good news here, delightful figthusiasts, is that technically I did not buy it from that enterprising profiteer. I got it as a Christmas gift. And if I may note, the listing was marked as sold and then another set immediately went up from the same seller, for the exact same price. I mean, kudos to them I guess?

But, what is Christmas for but for people you love to buy you things you love the holiday spirit, and I did feel pretty joyous as I unwrapped these little guys, and the much-longed-for roof.

You can see why. The roof is just too good for posing figs of all kinds on! (speaking of Christmas, if you don't think I'm going to put Santa Han lounging on this roof next year, I'm sad you think I'm going to pass up such a golden opportunity!)

The underside - it's pretty light since it's hollowed out. It sits sturdily - not uneven or off balance at all.

Our two moon watching, wine-drinking cuties. The only thing I'd have preferred with this set is if Lao Wen's hair was a little more wispy-hair forward - you can see the wisps at either side, but he ends up more with a slicked back look overall. But it's a very minor thing.

Their little legs sticking out is SUPER cute.

A better view of their hair styles.

Lao Wen's hair looks a bit glossier than A-Xu's, but that's just due to the lighting in my little fig photographing area. It would certainly make sense if A-Xu's hair was a bit duller - if I had that much iron blocking my meridians, my hair would be looking a little less sleek too.

As you might imagine from the supporting robes all around them, these figs sit well and have no problem sitting on the roof. No concerns about them tumbling off, thankfully!

The roof ridge is a nice wide base.

There we go! Home at last.

The quote on the card / box is this beautiful line from the theme song Tianyake:

将平生霜雪 与君煮酒烹茶 jiāng píng shēng shuāng xuě yǔ jūn zhǔ jiǔ pēng chá A life of snow and frost melts away as I brew wine and make tea with you (translation Cee)

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 160

Diorama Count: 9

Snowglobe Count: 1

Rating: Appreciate the moon with great wine!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]