#i love the fucking chicken contest

[cevanstiddies]

I rode the bull for 4 minutes straight while Mark was watching, hope he knew I was trying to show off my skills

[spidervee]

in which jake is your roommate and ruins all your dates. accidentally. accidentally, right?🌻 18+ only!

Jake Seresin isn’t an ideal roommate. He sings in the shower at 5 a.m., he can’t load a dishwasher to save his life—seriously, who puts mugs on the bottom—and he has a habit of walking around shirtless that is beginning to interfere with your love life.

Of course, he’s got a lot of good qualities. He’s a surprisingly good cook, with a recipe for chicken and dumplings you’re pretty sure is the best thing you’ve ever eaten. He’s also got that Navy-mandated tidiness, so the apartment you share is always vacuumed and dusted. And he has a habit of walking around shirtless, which, as appealing as it is for your eyes, is…

Yepp. Starting to mess with your love life.

Because guys see Jake making a smoothie in the kitchen or getting back from a run or literally doing anything and decide they have to have some stupid pissing contest with your roommate, who remains, you think, entirely oblivious to how threatened he makes the men you bring home. Because why would he see them as a threat, right? He’s so far out of your league that your dates have nothing to worry about. Jake Seresin could pull any girl he ever wanted so why would he want you?

You’re almost grateful he’s deployed—despite your usual worry for his safety—when you bring a new guy home from the bar. No Jake means no weird energy and maybe a chance to actually let a relationship get off its feet.

Until he comes out of the bathroom and you’re smiling at your phone because Jake sent you a text, a photo of the two of you at the beach from last year. One of those iPhone memories that apparently made him think of you.

This came up on my phone yesterday. Miss you, sweetheart. Don’t burn the place down. Oh and I’m safe in case you couldn’t tell.

Your date isn’t thrilled to see the photo, even though he asks to. Tells you it looks like you’re a couple—as if—and that Jake seems really comfortable touching you—he’s just a touchy person.

The night ends with some mediocre sex and, despite his words to the otherwise, your date never calls you back.

You try not to blame Jake, but it’s hard not to see him as the root of all your woes in love. And if you’re not mad at him, you’ll have to analyze why he’s accidentally ruining every date you’re on and maybe you’ll have to admit that it’s because none of these guys actually measure up to Jake.

You’d have to have the startling realization that you are hopelessly in love with your roommate.

So when Jake comes back a few weeks later maybe you’re cold. Maybe you’re quiet. Maybe you’re keeping to yourself and maybe you tell him to fuck off when he keeps asking what he did wrong.

You move to storm out of the apartment and it’s all very dramatic, but Jake stops you with a hand grasped firmly around your wrist. It’s not rough, but determined, and he pulls you gently closer to him, his green eyes burning with confusion under furrowed brows.

“What was that?” His skin is sun-kissed and he can’t tell you where he was deployed but you know it was somewhere warm from the way the few freckles that dot his nose are more prominent than usual.

“Fuck. Off.”

Jake blinks, undeterred. And then he stares at you, gaze so focused you feel like you’re a target in one of his stupid training exercises. You want to shy away, but when his other hand comes up to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realized we’re gathering in your eyes it all comes out. All your weird and messy feelings that will certainly ruin everything and make it so you need to find another place to live.

But when you’re done talking, Jake just frowns. He pulls you impossibly closer and rests his chin atop your head. “I’m sorry, sweets,” he mutters, “But I’m glad I scared those guys off.” He doesn’t add that he was totally doing it on purpose as often as he could—things are still too fragile for that. One day he’ll tell you. And on that day, he’ll receive a face full of chocolate cake as punishment.

But for today, he just lets you sniffle in his arms, holds you close as you put a wet spot down the front of his t-shirt. “They’re not good enough for you,” he continues, “I just helped them realize that sooner rather than later.”

“Jake,” you complain, “You can’t keep doing that. I need…I want to find someone.”

His frown deepens and he places his hands on your waist, tapping your hips lightly to warn you that he’s going to pick you up. Carrying you into your bedroom, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll stop, if you give this guy I know a shot.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s Navy,” Jake continues, “And he’s got a killer body.”

“Definitely listening,” you laugh, but try to ignore the pang of hurt that is Jake setting you up with one of his friends.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes a spot beside you on your bed. “He’s a great pilot, some say the best. And he’s a gentleman, Texas-raised so he knows his way around a kitchen.”

Oh. Oh.

“Jake…”

He holds up a hand, not willing to be interrupted. “And he’s shit at loading the dishwasher, sweets, but I know he’d be willing to learn.”

[icarusredwings]

Beach day filler episode

Thinking about my au thing and if they went to the beach. Who's here:

Scott, Hank, Remi, Kurt, Kevin, Piotr, Wade, Logan, Forge, and Johnathan. The ACTUAL Wolverine.

Jean, Ororo, Rouge, Laura, Ellie, Yukio, Jubilee, Gabby, and Mary puppins. The dog.

As a treat, They all loaded up and went to the beach, infact they actually rented it for the day. Didn't know you could rent a beach, could you? Well, you can, actually. Esspecially when you're the fucking Xmen.

The very first thing that happened when they arrived was Scott playing daddy and forcing everyone to put on sunscreen. (But forgot himself)

Despite Wade pointing out that literally all of his skin is cancerous anyway, Logan slathered him with it, borderline wrestling him to put it on but turns out sunscreen is very slippery and when your opponet keeps getting wrestle-boners (as he called them) he too ended up with a lot of sunscreen on him too.

Hank then brought up the fact that he couldn't really put on sunscreen because.. well... he has fur. This was followed by Kurt arguing that he wasn't putting sunscreen in his fur either. "Uhm... well.. I suppose you have a point." So both the blue boys got away with not having any.

Here's some things that are happening:

Storm, Jean, and Mary puppins are relaxing while lying back on the beach, talking about how silly the younger ones are being and gossiping about their husbands.

Remi is hunting for seashells for Rouge.

Kurt caught a tadpole and held it in his hands for a bit to tease the girls with it. Wade, being the curious little thing that he is, looked at it too and waved it off when they let it go, frowning.

"Aww! Why'd you have to let him go? That was my friend!"

"Zometimes zhe best zhing you can do for a fwiend iz wet zhem go."

"....Im starting to notice a pattern of speech on this team."

"Vhat?"

"Exactly."

Hank asked, "Are you sure this water is sanitary?" In which he was laughed at but reassured it was "much cleaner than the swamp I grew up in" by Remi, who did end up finding some shells for his chere.

At some point during the day, Forge brought people drinks, coming to the girls first with a "Ladies. Godess." Towards Ororo, who couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly as Jubilee giggled. She loved a good romance story.

Yukio announced that she was building a sand castle and approximately 5 grown men joined her. Guess which ones. It was massive. Like- prize worthy good. They even all took a picture with it. Its going above the fire place at home.

Sometime between things, Logan started grilling, telling a whiney Wade, kevin and Kurt that No. He was NOT going swimming with them and they all know better then to ask.

You won't believe who's the one who actually got him to sit a foot in the water, near the shore.

Now, Colossus and Morph (who is using his powers to also be Colossus to match his height) is playing "Water chicken" with Jubilee and Rouge. Next, after that was Ororo and Jean and then a mix of everyone else who wanted to play.

Ellie and Laura talked about how cringy the adults were being. "Esspecially my father."

"Which one?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Both of them.... Wade is not my dad."

"That's valid."

Gabby challenged Kurt to a hand stand contest, and he lost on purose so she could win, parading her around on his shoulders to Logan, who high fived her and then told her to go attack Wade, who was starting to sit by himself and stare at the waves with a look in his eyes that he didn't like. "No, not like that! I meant - damn it, Gabby!! I meant jump on him or something not stab him in the eye!"

This is when Jean giggles and says. "Kids, am I right?" And Logan lets out a huge sigh. "Tell me about it."

For some reason, Johnanthan really is interested in Mary Puppins. "He's probably just trying to figure out if she's a rat a dog or some kind of secret third option."

"Oh well. Puppins is fixed, so im not worried about it- but I swear if you hurt her! You'll be a hat!"

For most of the day, despite everything, Scott (for once in his damn life) seemed relaxed. He was so relaxed that he got a massive sunburn after falling asleep with "LASIK" written on his lower back like a tramp stamp. The only thing that could be done by someone who purposly applied sunscreen to him in this way.

Still, 3 days later, no one will fess up or admit to it, but Logan has a certain smirk whenever he passes him in the hall.

You honestly would just label this "The Wolverine's family and the Summer's go to the beach" because that's bassically what happened. Other than all of this and all the blood left on the beach, They all had a blast. Except for Scott, of course. I'll give you one hint.

Don't fuck with redheads.

[octuscle]

Ao odd problem... I'm attending my cousin's wedding today... he used to be cool, but now he's become a dumb meat head. His girlfriend isn't too bright either. Any thoughts on ways to help him? I dunno... maybe it's just me. The rest of the family seems to love him.

And now your cousin asks you in all seriousness at the last second if you would like to be his best man… Your beefcake cousin. And his silicone Barbie. And in a fit of mental derangement you even agree.

The visit to the tailor was hell. Seeing your cousin at the last fitting was embarrassing. The bulge in his Calvin Klein briefs was huge. And the tailor had already done nothing but whine about how much fabric he would need when measuring his chest, biceps and thighs. Before it's your turn to make the final adjustments, you go to lunch. You order four chicken breasts with rice. Your cousin fistbumps you and orders the same. It takes you fifteen minutes to gobble it all down and wash it down with a gallon of protein shake. On the way back to the tailor, you have a burping contest. You let your cousin win. He is the groom, after all. And you're the best man.

Fuck, as the tailor fiddles with your thighs, you get a boner. A huge one. You imagine your cousin's Barbie giving you a blowjob. Or even better, your cousin himself. Without eye contact. No homo! You know you'll look great in that suit. You two will be standing at the altar as if you were the bride's security. Can you be best man with sunglasses? Hehehe, never mind. What do you know? You and your bruh know about iron lifting, about engines and how to tune them. That's all a man needs to know.

After the tailor, it's off to the gym. You have to cool down before the wedding. Your cousin asks you if you can give him a blowjob right away. You smile at him and say that this is part of your duties as best man. And you drive the car to the next parking lot… Fuck, you hope Barbie knows how lucky she is!

Best best men can be found @maxx-magnum

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 8

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Also, I know way more than I intended because of comments and reblogs on previous posts, so I'm in the know now.

Kim looking at Kenta's face right before the elevator closed is the only thing keeping me from losing it. If Kentana doesn't save Kimberly, what is the point of this?! What is the point of Kentana?!

Are y'all a couple now? Y'all are starting to color and outfit coordinate, and it feels very gay.

I don't know what to do with these two.

I'm pretty sure I'm just not seeing pink on Pete, which means he has connections to the red, and Way refuses to stay blue, so I'm sure he is still planning some corrupt red nonsense.

JUST BE BLUE! Just be in love with each other. Accept his love, Waymond!

I never thought I'd write this, but be like Jeffrey, Waymond. Turn blue. Commit to the blue. Fall in love!

Look at him! No matter what connection he has to the red, he is beating the allegations. Peter is a GOOD MAN! If Waymond doesn't fall in love with him, somebody else will. Guaranteed.

Not going to read too much into that red stripe at the top of the room, but this is a red's room. Is this Kimberly's?! Why is there so much blood?!

When you take people's superpowers, yet have no idea how to use the superpowers. Apparently, Babe without superpowers is still better than everyone else. At least Charles is no longer a lying blue.

I think Big Red knows something is different with Babe, and even though Jeffrey still has that damn red bag . . . IS THAT WAYMOND?! No, Waymond, no! Do NOT work with Big Red. You have Peter RIGHT THERE! Quit your bullshit, Waymond!

WTF, Kentana?! If I have to pick between you two, I pick Peter. No contest. Kimberly, Peter, and Alan above everyone else. Kentana, you better stop it! You are still on my shit list!

Hold up! Do you two know each other? Like biblically? What is this tension? What are these looks? Why does this feel very personal? I ain't mad at it, but Kentana still needs to save Kimberly!

Jeffrey, why would you go there in that red and blue flannel shirt?! That won't save you, buddy!

Kentana, the ONLY thing that will redeem you is saving Kimberly. I didn't like Jeffrey, but now he is matching with Alan, so they are in love, and you can't break Alan's heart! You are just fucking up left and right today, and I hope you get punched in the throat before this episode is over.

KIMBERLY IS DYING! And y'all are about to have sex in the blue after tending wounds which is pointless because you have superpowers that will heal you!!!!!! Y'all continue to amaze me by the lack of priorities. Save Kim Possible!

Why is this shot in the mirror? Why is there a barrier between you two? This is odd. More lies?

Who takes a shot like that?! A KILLER! Barbara, get it together! This isn't an episode of Dead Friend Forever, and you are no longer a red.

Everything about this scene is ridiculous. Charles in blue. SONIC in blue. North and Waymond in black. AND EVERYONE IS DRINKING RED SODA! This not looking good for the blues. Whatever they are talking about, the reds already won.

Barbara continues to be touchy-feely with Waymond. Why can't he just let Waymond brood in peace? Barbara knows Waymond loves him, yet gives Waymond no space. Go tend to your boyfriend's fake injuries, Barbara! Waymond is working with Big Red and not falling in love with Peter, yet you have me feeling bad for him, Barbara. I should hate Waymond! BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE YOU WON'T LEAVE HIM BE!

These two have to be sleeping together. Cooking Crush had the Chicken Bite product placement too and Prem and Ten definitely want each other in that show, so North and Sonic have to want each other too, yes? Yes. Now why are they watching Whiny Winifred while flirting IN THE BLUE?! They finally are both wearing blue at the same time. Thank, Baby Jesus.

I was worried seeing Waymond in the red doorway, but he has Charles and Barbara. But they aren't saving Kimberly. Why does nobody care about Kimberly?!

The kid is blue. Is he the insider informant? He is a child!

Why are there so many red kids in the world? Big Red, why do you need an army?! Overthrow your shitty kidnappers with your superpowers, kids! REVOLT! Sí se puede

KIMBERLY!

North and Sonic are going to save Kimberly! They are finally in the blue and saving my favorite red! I never doubted them!

WHAT THE FUCK?! THEY DIDN'T SAVE KIMBERLY?!

Southwest Airlines and Vegas' Hedgehog did NOT save Kimberly! Kentana watched as Kimberly got taken, then had the audacity to have chemistry with Peter. Jeffrey walked right into the reds like that was gonna save him instead of saving Kimberly! Whiny Winifred kicked Kimberly. Waymond is working with Big Red and not saving Kimberly. Charles and Barbara CANNOT prioritize and are talking to a blue kid and giggling at each other instead of rescuing Kimberly.

AND BARBARA IS FIGHTING PETER NEXT WEEK!

These men need to get their shit together! The ONLY things that needed to happened this episode were 1) SAVE KIMBERLY and 2) ACCEPT PETER'S LOVE! Neither happened. Honestly, Kentana and Waymond could die and leave Kimberly and Peter to be the power couple of Alan's company. They both wear too much black, and unlike Barbara, they aren't the title character, so either commit to the blue Waymond or Kentana, or else I'm gonna start thinking y'all are disposable.

[amywritesthings]

gingerbread sweet. / a reiner holiday ficlet

pairing: reiner braun x f!reader ( attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin ) word count: 1.1k summary: It's the Titan frat's annual gingerbread house competition. Your boyfriend, Reiner Braun, is determined to win. You, however, are determined to distract.

tags: modern au - university, holiday fluff, gingerbread houses, all the marleyans are in a frat bc i said so, devoted boyfriend!reiner, light sexual tension credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the eleventh day of the twelve days of amymas !!

“Does the door look crooked to you?”

"The what?"

"The door. Look at it."

There’s nothing more amusing than watching your hulk of a boyfriend crouch over a tiny gingerbread house.

Reiner Braun squints as he presses a gumdrop to the front — circular windows make it modern, or so he claims — then pauses.

Distracted by a very minor detail, you can already feel his anxiety running his brain a mile a minute: a lopsided door may deduct a few points from Marcel's arbitrary points system from this very arbitrary holiday competition.

Because he's absolutely fucking determined to win.

Granted, the bragging rights are his, but the grand prize will not be — Reiner, of course, rarely rides this hard for something he wants.

No, he’s too willing to put everyone else's wants and needs above his own.

So the grand prize of the Titan fraternity annual gingerbread house competition is going to go to you, hell or high water.

He’s going to win you that goddamn spa day gift card that Marcel has been dangling as a sweet little incentive no matter how long it takes him to mold this gingerbread house into his image.

"I think it looks straight."

The tip of his pink tongue pokes out a little from his pressed lips as he leans in closer. "...I trust your eye more than mine."

The blonde sits up to fish for the green icing piping bag. He's gentle with the way he eases the icing along the edges of the tiny confectionary door.

(An icing wreath, like this couldn't be anymore adorable.)

“Reiner?” you coo.

“Yeah, babe.”

Flat. He’s in the zone.

“You know you don’t have to slave over this thing, right?”

You scoot your chair closer to his, dropping your temple to his large tricep.

“I can buy my own spa day card.”

“False,” he corrects. “I’ll buy you the spa day card myself, but if I gotta cheat Porco out of winning for the third year in a row. Pieck’s gone at least five times on our dime.”

"When were the other two times?" you ask, not correlating the math.

"Well, our freshman year," Reiner begins, using the green icing to make little bushes at the foundation of the house, "we did a Valentine's day relay race that ended up with Bert in urgent care with a broken nose. Then, the one-and-only pool party chicken fight tournament — Pieck and Porco fought dirty."

"Is that why it was the one and only?"

"Yeah. Bert got another bloody nose, but that time from Annie going a little too hard."

He snorts.

"We had to save him from becoming the next Owen Wilson, so — no more chicken tournaments."

Titan frat is… well, excessively competitive, you've learned in your year or so of dating Reiner.

(Blame Porco and the new pledge, Eren Yeager, for only exasperating in this year with the month-long holiday challenges.)

You shrug a shoulder. “I could help.”

“And mess up your pretty nails?” Reiner shakes his head, glancing briefly through his peripheral vision. He smirks. “Ain’t no way.”

Right.

Reiner’s also very giving, during this season — in more ways than one.

First it was the fully-paid-for manicure yesterday.

Then it was the reservation for a Christmas Eve dinner to your favorite spot in the inner city.

Now he’s trying to win Marcel's approval in this ridiculous decorating contest in your name, and you feel… well, loved.

(There's no disputing that you've won the boyfriend lottery.)

Which, of course, means you have only one thing you can do in this situation.

He’s too wound up.

Distracted.

So you reach down to the pile of icing supplies strewn about, picking the small red accented tube.

You swipe some on the tip of your finger, mindful not to get it under your nails.

Reiner doesn’t even see it happening.

He’s too busy playing fixer-upper on the front side of the house, his too-big hands delicately toying with the too-small decorations he’s pasting on the cookie.

You wait a few seconds, letting him place the door where he wishes, before swiping the icing over the side of his neck.

Reiner tenses, turning to see what the hell just hit his neck, but he’s too late—

You’re already leaning in, sliding the tip of your tongue along his skin.

The man gasps, dropping his own piping bag to the supply assortment below.

“What are you—”

“Decorating,” you murmur nonsensically, grinning from ear to ear as his attention disappears completely from the gingerbread house to you.

“The guys are in the other room,” he rasps, eyes wide.

The pledges, he means — banished to the enclosed patio as they work on their own poorly-designed houses.

Through the last year while dating Reiner,  you’ve learned very quickly how sensitive he is.

Sometimes all it takes is a look to get him hard.

Your ego has never recovered, and it’s not deflating now.

Except his eyes soften and a gentle chuckle exits his throat when his golden eyes search your face.

“Wait, you got—”

“What?”

His hand gently cradles your jaw. 

“Hold still, baby.”

His thumb raises to swipe at your nose, where his smile only grows.

You stay still, obedient to his command, unable to stop looking at him.

God, he’s gorgeous.

He’s so fucking gor—

Something touches your lips, and you belatedly realize Reiner’s taken it upon himself to push the red icing along the seam of your lips, parting them easily.

You can taste the sugary sweetness on the tip of your tongue.

“Shit, sorry." When your brows knit in confusion, Reiner explains himself. "Seems like I missed a spot.”

Oh.

Oh.

His pupils dilate as his gaze drops to your lips, as if he’s ready to devour your whole.

Your entire body turns into flames.

“Just one spot?” you murmur, and a wicked smirk crawls to his mouth.

That same thumb drops to glide the remaining icing over your chin.

“I fear it's a couple of spots, but don't worry. I'll get you cleaned up.” He tilts his chin. “I take care of my girl, remember?”

(As if you could ever forget.)

His words get your blood pumping. Pledges and wandering eyes be damned.

“What about the gingerbread house?” you murmur, entranced by the way he continues absently swiping icing over your jaw, chin, and cheeks.

(Marking a trail his lips will devour.)

“We can bring the icing upstairs,” Reiner suggests with an innocent shrug. You know it’s anything but. “I’ll finish that damn house eventually, but I have something sweeter to tend to.”

Before you can say another word, the blonde stands from his chair and gently takes your hand into his.

You easily stand with him, unable to stop giggling as he tugs you eagerly upstairs.

He’s determined to win, yes, but to him —

He’s already won.

He has you, after all.

.

[monstersandmaw]

Female knight x lady - part one?

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I've had this knocking around for ages, and I don't know if I'll continue it, but I fell in love with all the characters anyway and figured someone might enjoy it. It was based on a prompt that I can't find now, but ran along the lines of: "Female knight looking for a Lady to serve. Experienced in monster slaying."

Wordcount: 4149 Contents: Buff, tough, butch knight seeks employment from a local lady, featuring the ugliest horse in all the land, a dog named Muffin, and a brother who just wants his sister to be happy and safe... Fleetingly suggestive moments, but nothing super nsfw.

“Here goes nothing,” she sighed as she drove the nail into the village noticeboard with the pommel of her dagger and stepped back to look at her chicken-scratch writing. “Fuck,” she added as she glowered at it and saw the way her hand had smudged the bottom of it.

“Female knight looking for a Lady to serve. Experienced in monster slaying. Find me at the Bleeding Goat until the day after the Spring Equinox.” At least, if she squinted it still looked like ‘Spring Equinox’. If she didn’t, it looked like ‘Stink Jurybox’ or even ‘String Fairyfox’.

“Fuck,” she said again, and turned away. It would have to do. She didn’t have any more paper anyway.

And with that, she led her enormous war horse down the road towards the Bleeding Goat inn. Maggot was a vile mare by anyone’s estimation, but Vika loved her dearly. Built like a brick shithouse, with a shaggy, yellow-ish white coat, pink eyes, and a propensity for biting anyone who came within a three yard radius of her, the mare wouldn’t have won an equine beauty contest if she was the last horse in the land, but she was loyal to Vika, and could keep up a steady trot for days without breaking a sweat. She made a great windbreak too, if the need called for it, and her hooves were the size of a large buckler shield. Once iron-shod, they were lethal when she reared up or lashed out.

The ostler at The Bleeding Goat almost didn’t take her.

“Size of that beast,” he muttered as Vika led her into the fresh stall. “Looks like it might eat one of my donkeys whole if I turn my back!”

“She won’t trouble the others if they don’t trouble her,” Vika growled down at him.

“If you say so,” he said, giving her the once-over too as he looked back over his shoulder at her.

At six foot three, with broad shoulders, thick, wild, dark brown hair that resisted almost every attempt at combing, a jaw like an anvil and a glare to make a dragon nervous, Vika was only distantly aware of the little man, the way a lion might briefly take note of a mouse in the grass.

“Like horse, like rider,” he muttered as he shut the door on Maggot’s stall. He reeled backwards and tripped over his own heels when Maggot lunged for him, teeth bared, red eyes rolled to show the whites and her lopsided, wolf-bitten ears pulled right back against her matted mane. “Fucking hell,” the ostler yelped as he scrabbled to his feet. “Look after it yourself!”

“Suits me,” she said with a shrug. “You never gave me the chance to offer.”

“Bitch,” he spat as he slunk out of the stable yard, nursing a bruised backside and a wet patch where he’d fallen on the muddy ground.

“That’s ‘Dame’ to you!” Vika yelled after him. When he stopped and lurched back around to goggle openly at her, she offered him a cold, feral grin and tapped the pattern of embroidered lilies and swords on her padded brigandine with her thumb. “Dame Vika of Sharkshoal Point.”

“Right. Sorry, m’lady. Ma’am. Dame…”

She snorted and turned away just as Maggot whickered in a way that meant she was thoroughly amused with her own antics. Vika poked her in the chest and she stepped back from the stable door to let her owner in, and with practised movements that felt almost meditative, she had untacked the horse and rubbed her down with a handful of straw. The bran mash and oats she’d paid for were brought to her by a trembling stable lad who had stared up at her from over the stable door with wide eyes until Maggot had neighed with soft, enquiring interest and he’d practically flung it over the door and bolted for the kitchen door of the inn. Anyone might have thought Maggot was a roaring dragon by the way he’d reacted, but it was a common enough occurrence that neither mare nor knight paid it any mind.

Vika spent three days at the inn.

She took the time to sharpen all her numerous blades, not just the greatsword she usually kept sheathed on Maggot’s tack, and she even managed to acquire a needle and thread to darn up a few slashes in her padded brigandine. Her needlework wouldn’t have passed muster in the house of a lady, but delicate embroidery wasn’t the goal. She could make two pieces of fabric meet and stay together well enough, and that would have to do. She could also sew up a person if push came to shove, and she bore the scars of her own neat stitching in a number of places about her body as proof.

On the fourth day, while the lively little town was setting up for the Spring Equinox celebrations, a man entered the tavern’s common room and looked around, asking for the ‘female knight’ who’d placed the advert on the board.

She tensed but let the scene play out, watching as the cute serving girl flushed and pointed across the room at her.

The man turned and cocked an eyebrow when he looked Vika up and down, but he thanked Ella and wove his way carefully between the tables. He was wearing the practical garments of a labourer, with a long tunic that covered his hips and a belt around the waist, but the fabric was far finer than any Vika had ever clapped eyes on, and his fur-trimmed cloak looked soft enough to swaddle a baby. His boots were worn to the point of comfort, but not falling apart, and at his hip he carried a slender sword with a silver pommel.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said with a polite incline of his head and an accent that betrayed him as nobility as surely as the gold stitching on his scabbard. “But are you the knight who placed the advertisement on the noticeboard? You’re looking to serve a lady?”

“I am,” she said, blunt and direct as ever. “Vika,” and she stuck out her hand to him.

He shook it without hesitation and revealed a strong, firm grip. “Lord Roland. Brother of the Lady Elayne Drummond,” he added with a friendly twist of his lips.

He was attractive, for a man, with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes and russet brown hair that fell in easy waves around his ears to brush the fur of his cloak. He had a short beard that was well-maintained, and his skin had the healthy glow of one who had never missed a meal a day in his life and spent much of his time out of doors.

“May I sit?” he asked, eyeing the chair opposite hers across the table.

She glanced down at the throwing knife she’d been in the process of sharpening, and at the black grime that coated her fingertips and around her nails from the oil and the whetstone, and felt a touch of shame beside his immaculate appearance, but she nodded all the same. “Sure. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?” she offered.

He smiled at that and nodded. “The ale here is the best in town,” he said, looking over his shoulder and beckoning over the serving girl with dark eyes and curly, black hair.

“M’lord?” Ella chirped and then shot Vika a smile. She’d flashed her the same smile on Vika’s first night, and again when Vika had made it clear in which room she was staying, should the young woman feel like joining her when she’d finished work. Ella had, and she’d fallen apart with the same glorious light in her eyes under Vika’s mouth and with her fingers buried deep inside her. They’d not met since, but they’d been easy in each other’s company ever since.

They ordered their drinks, and Roland turned back to Vika, resting his forearms on the table. “I suppose I should ask the reason you’re placing advertisements on public noticeboards instead of serving with the king, or even the knight who gave you your title to begin with.”

“A fair enough question,” she shrugged. “He died. Of old age, mind you. I served Gwilym of Sevenoaks from the time I was first raised to the order until two years ago. After his death, I decided to travel. Found myself here, and decided it was time to find myself a new place to roost.”

 “Your advertisement said you’ve slain monsters…?” he asked just as their tankards arrived.

“Thanks,” Vika murmured to Ella as she slid it across the table to her, and then looked up at Roland and shrugged. “Yeah. But nothing that didn’t deserve it first, you know? There was some sick fuck who was kidnapping maidens to feed to a dragon, so I went to the dragon and found out what was really going on, challenged the fuck to a duel, he ran, I put an axe through his skull before he’d cleared the trees. Then there was a vampire that had gone feral back near Reaver’s Canyon, and she refused to let me chain her up til the bloodlust faded. Went into full shift, came at me, and went for my neck —” she bared the side of her throat to Roland where the skin was puckered. “Near tore me open with her fucking claws, but I staked her and that was that. Cauterised it with my own dagger. Nearly fucked up the temper on it too,” she added as an afterthought.

Roland cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, and she wasn’t sure if he was impressed or uncomfortable. Again, that wasn’t an uncommon reaction for folks to have to her.

“Right. Well, you clearly know what you’re doing…” he said in his clipped, aristocratic tone. “I do have one more question.”

“Ask away,” she said and drained a third of her tankard in one go. “Ah, fuck me, you’re right. That is good.”

“Right,” he chirped again, shuffling slightly in his seat. “My sister is… Well… She’s… She’s a lady… you understand…”

“Sisters of Lords usually are,” Vika growled. “What’s your point?”

“Quite, but… while your… um… your deeds are certainly impressive — and if you say you served with Sir Gwilym, I can’t argue that he knew good character when he saw it — I must say that your language is… uh…”

“Unbecoming of the knightly order?” she said. “Don’t worry. I can hold my tongue when I have to. I’m just tired and a bit run down. I apologise. I can watch my mouth, if it offends the lady.”

Roland blushed. “You know, it probably wouldn’t offend ‘the lady’, if I’m honest,” he sighed. “It’s just… Well, you understand. Decorum and all that.”

“Yeah, I get it. So is there an opening at the castle or not?”

He nodded. “I think you’ll fit in just fine, but as a formality, I’d like to extend a trial period to you.”

“Oh, Roland,” she grinned over the rim of her tankard. “Never give a knight the challenge of a trial.”

His answering smile went all the way to his big brown eyes, and he raised his own tankard to her. “I look forward to meeting you in the lists, Dame Vika.”

She snorted and drained her ale. “Ready when you are. Just need to grab my horse and my gear.” Roland slid two coppers onto the table and she frowned. “Thought I said I’d pay?”

“I’m the one interviewing,” he shrugged as he stood and made his way past Ella to the door. “You can leave a tip if you like.”

“Oh, I already tipped her,” Vika purred, sliding a silver coin into Ella’s palm while the young woman blushed prettily and tried to hide a smirk behind a dip of her head. “Bring my saddlebags down to the stables, love? They’re all packed up in my room,” she asked before following him towards the stables.

A magnificent black palfrey, still wearing his gleaming tack, stood in the stable next to Maggot’s, staring wide-eyed and stock-still at the mare with a look of abject horror on his face so comical that Vika guffawed when she saw him.

“That’s…your horse?” Roland asked as he saw Vika hang her arms over her mare’s stable door and dangle her hands in a ‘come here’ gesture at the mare.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I know. Before you say it, we’ve heard it all before. But she’s everything to me, alright? Wouldn’t trade her for a high-stepping prancer like that for the world.”

Roland’s horse snorted, offended.

“Fair enough,” he said, and swallowed thickly. “Come on, Lancer.”

Vika rolled her eyes and hefted her own saddle off the rack near the door and slung it over the stable door. She tacked her mare up in silence and led her out into the yard to mount up after Ella brought out her saddlebags and Vika winked at her just to watch her blush again. “Thank you, love,” she said. Damn, but the girl was pretty.

Ella rested her hand boldly on Vika’s thigh as she looked coyly up at her and said, “It’s been a pleasure, m’lady.”

The ride to the castle took twenty minutes, and passed through some of the loveliest countryside Vika had ever seen. Deer scattered from a nearby field into the oak and beech trees on their right, and as they urged their horses into a canter, Maggot threw in a little buck of happiness and Vika laughed, patting her neck as she sat it with familiar ease.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Roland said as they continued to canter, his palfrey slightly in the lead and looking wary about the lumbering beast a pace or two behind him, “But how did you come by a horse like… that?”

Vika looked down at her mare’s boulder neck and shoulders and sallow, flaxen mane, listening to her dragon snorts as she heaved up the hill. It sounded like a hell of a lot of effort, but she could outlast any fancy racer once the quarter mile marker had been passed. She wasn’t fast, but hell, she had endurance.

“Saved her from a slaughterhouse,” Vika called above the wind in their ears. Her own long hair streamed behind her, probably tangling into an even worse bird’s nest, but she couldn't have cared less after days cooped up in the tavern. She’d expected to have her advertisement ignored, and simply to move on while the town celebrated equinox, but this was infinitely more attractive.

Roland’s horse put on a sudden spurt of speed, nudging from canter to a ground-chewing gallop, but Maggot just ploughed on at the same stubborn canter, pounding her great hooves into the soil until Roland sat back in the saddle and his fancy prancer slowed with a frustrated toss of his head. “A slaughterhouse?” he asked.

“Yeah. They thought she was far too ugly to make a destrier, and too mean to make a carthorse. I took one look at her and bought her. She was a year old at the time, and already built like a siege engine. She could teach mules about being stubborn too.”

“Something I sense you two have in common?” he said, and because he said it not unkindly, Vika laughed.

“You got me there,” she said with another laugh. “So what’s your sister like? And why is she looking for a female knight, specifically?”

He slowed Lancer to a brisk trot, and Vika nudged Maggot up beside him, instinctively tugging the reins to one side when Maggot went to bite the destrier’s glossy, black rump on the way past.

“Ah, none of that,” she barked at the horse, and for once, the mare listened, plodding along like an aged plough horse.

“Elayne is…” Roland began, and then faltered, scrubbing his hand over his face. “She’s beautiful, educated, beloved…” he said, and Vika frowned. When he looked askance at her, he sighed and the weight of it dragged his shoulders down with it. “She’s miserable. Our father… well, he loved her more than anything, but he kept her penned in… like a bird in a cage. She can insult you in about fifteen different languages, but she’s got no experience of any of the places where they speak them. Not even of our own country, really.”

“Sounds lonely,” Vika offered, and not without some sympathy. She’d travelled, and she’d met her fair share of courtly folk before. It wasn’t all it was made out to be.

Roland nodded. “Yes. I think… now that father’s dead, she’d like to see something of the world.”

Vika raised her eyebrows. “And you want someone to go with her?”

“Precisely. We have contacts all across the land,” he said. “She’d never want for a place to stay, but it’s the in-between that worries me. There’s no disguising we’re a wealthy family, and if someone figured out who she is, she could be taken for ransom, or harmed, or… It doesn’t bear thinking about. I can’t go with her because someone would have to run our estates in her absence.”

“She manages that now then?” Vika asked and he nodded.

“Yes. Father taught her everything, and, to my shame, I never had much of a head for it; not the way she does. She’s a natural. I can manage though,” he added, cheeks heating. “It’s not like it’d fall apart completely without her, but… yes. She’s the one who manages the day to day of the castle and the estate finances.”

“I’m surprised she’s not got suitors lining up from the castle gates to Southport,” she snorted.

“Oh, she has,” he laughed.

“None of them good enough?”

Again, Roland barked a laugh. “Seemingly not. Look —” he said, and pointed with his gloved right hand as they rounded a bend in the road and the trees drew back a little way. “That’s Crow’s Nest.”

Vika followed his gesture and spotted the dark castle on the hill easily enough. “Impressive,” she murmured.

“Think your ugly mare can beat my Lancer to the courtyard from here?” he asked.

Maggot was already lurching forwards into a determined canter before Vika had processed the question. “What did I tell you about knights and challenges?” she yelled over her shoulder at him as they took off with an ungainly jolt.

Lancer, of course, was off like a hound after a hare a second later, his silky tail held high as an officer’s plume, but after a mile, he began to slow while Maggot just thundered on like a boulder down a mountain. Vika just sat forward a little in the saddle and gave the mare her head to set her own pace. They overtook Lancer on a corner by an oak on the last stretch and Vika yelled, “I hope they let us in without you, Prancer!”

“You’d just batter down the gates anyway!” he roared back, laughing.

Maggot won by a country mile, though mostly through grim determination and grit than anything else. Her sides heaved by the time she got to the barbican gate, and Vika was forced to sit back and ease her into a trot before the archers on the gate started to shoot at her.

Lancer appeared a few minutes later, his deep, black chest rimed with foam and his nostrils flared wide while Vika was still walking Maggot in a lazy circle just out of bow shot, and Roland shook his head. “Damn,” he laughed. “I’d love to see Maggot race Crocus.”

“Crocus?”

“My sister’s gelding. Don’t ask about the name — something to do with saffron and the fact that he’s probably the most orange horse you’ll ever lay eyes on. Open the gate!” he added in the same breath, and the portcullis rumbled up.

“Bit extreme, isn't it? We’re not exactly at war…” Vika muttered as the ironwood frame ground upwards into the bastion above and Lancer ambled in like he was the lord of the castle, not Roland. Maggot eyed the murder-holes with deep suspicion, and then followed the palfrey inside.

Roland shrugged. “There’s already been one attempt on both my sister’s life and my own since our father’s death,” he said, and all the jollity of the race evaporated from his handsome, boyish features. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Shit,” she hissed. “I can see why you’re not celebrating the Equinox here,” she commented, looking around and finding the castle bailey empty of all the accoutrements of celebration like a mummers’ platform and festive stalls.

“Not this year. We’re funding the festivities in the town though,” he said, “To make up for it. But we’re not hosting anything here. Elayne is devastated,” he added as he sprang lightly down from Lancer’s saddle and loosened the girth while a stable hand strode over to greet them. “And very angry with me.”

“Careful,” Vika advised as a second stable hand approached her. “She’s… not the friendliest.”

“Right…” the young man chirped, faltering. “Uh… you want to lead her in then?”

Vika saw her mare settled and rubbed down, and when the stable hand promised to feed her in an hour’s time, after the strain of the race had faded from her body, Vika relaxed a little. He did know what he was doing after all. “Don’t shut yourself in there with her though,” she advised him while the mare rolled her red eyes at them, and the young man nodded.

She hooked her saddle bags over one arm and strode after Roland to meet him at the castle entrance.

The next few hours passed in a blur, but after she’d bathed and been given a new set of clothes, which not only fitted her but actually suited her, by a tailor who seemed to have magicked them out of thin fucking air, Vika meandered down towards the great hall.

A massive wolfhound lay sprawled across the doorway ahead of her, and just as the sole of her boot touched the marble entrance hall floor at the base of the stairs, a young woman emerged from a doorway on the other side, and the wolfhound looked up. His shaggy, bull whip tail began to wag and he whined and wriggled on the floor like a puppy as the woman approached, unaware of Vika’s presence behind her on the stairs.

“Oh, Muffin!” she giggled, kneeling beside him and playing with his ears and his bearded chin.

Her dress — a silvery, iridescent blue that shifted as Vika stared at it — pooled around her like a cloud on a summer day, and Vika watched as the dog floundered into a sitting position and tried to lick the woman’s face. She leaned back, laughing, and then caught sight of Vika as she turned her face away.

Vika, a woman who rarely found herself without retort or reposte, stood speechless as the young lady looked up at her and parted her lips in a soft ‘oh’ of surprise.

Vika was no stranger to beauty. From milk maids to marquesses, she’d seen it all, but this woman, with her smooth skin and warm, honey-coloured hair coiled up in pearl-studded waves, her flowing silk dress and bright, blue-grey eyes, gave new meaning to the concept of beauty. “Fuck,” she breathed, too quite for the lady to hear.

“Hello,” the lady smiled. The dog had gone still and was staring at Vika as though he was still deciding whether to launch himself at her or let her approach. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” And with that, she rose like a dancer and crossed to her.

Standing in front of her, she was a foot shorter than Vika, but as she looked up into Vika’s face, the urge to kneel, to bow her head and give every shred of her soul to the woman surged so strongly in her chest she almost wept. Swallowing thickly, she managed, “Dame Vika. Of Sharkshoal Point.”

Something cleared in the woman’s face and she smiled so delightedly that Vika felt lightheaded. “You’re the knight my brother found!” she beamed.

Unable to do aught else, Vika bowed her head. “I am, Lady. If you’ll have me.”

“That remains to be seen,” she grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I hear you beat my brother in a race today,” she added and turned towards the great hall behind her. “Perhaps you’d care to spar with him tomorrow?”

“Will you be there to judge us?” Vika asked before she could stop herself.

“I suppose I should be, shouldn’t I?” Elayne said, pausing and looking back over her bare shoulder. “If you’re to be my knight,” she added, and as her dark eyes raked the length of Vika’s body from boot to crown of head, Vika shivered.

“I’ll be your knight, Lady,” she promised.

Elayne smiled brilliantly, and Vika bit her lip.

___

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[batsplat]

have you ever done a ranking of your fav vale podium celebrations (or celebrations in general)? Would love to hear your thoughts <3

I love ranking dumb things so I HAVE done this, years ago actually, but I've not posted it on here! going over my list and I stand by the order with two minor alterations. I won't just limit my picks to podium celebrations but WILL exclude all his title-winning celebrations, because that feels like its own thing. so here goes

next off list *deep breath*: first win, brno '96 (so thrilled he almost rode into the wall, bless); playing the violin, donington '05 (just slaps idk man); bowling, jerez '07 (cute but also kinda funny in hindsight given how the rest of the season played out); hazing your baby teammate, catalunya '09 (like it's not even anything specific it's just SO hammy); superman, assen '97 (jorge martinez saw that shit and was like ENOUGH I need to retire NOW); bike medical check, catalunya '04 (endearingly corny and quietly ominous); 46 yamaha wins, sepang 2010 (delightfully stupid dick measuring contest with jorge); serving the champagne, brno '05 (it's silly and it's sweet, especially uccio correcting valentino's tea towel placement); beachwear, mugello '98 (this one HURT to leave out, not least because of the poor veteran valentino was upstaging)

and here's my actual top ten:

10. empty grandstands, andalusia 2020

idk this one's just so quintessentially valentino to me; I'm glad he had something fun like this for his very last podium. he parks the bike on the side of the track, gets up on... whatever you call those things, barriers? and then he wildly gesticulates in celebration at an entirely empty grandstand at the height of the pandemic as if he's being serenaded by fans. I like that it was at jerez too, feels like a full circle moment for a celebration featured later on the list - one that's also about like... subverting expectations in 'communicating' with the 'crowd'. it's just so FUN, the vibes were incredibly off back then (to put it mildly) but he did his thing and it did low key cheer me up at the time. which is the classic valentino magic, isn't it

9. tricked them all, welkom 2004

another one of the simpler, more spontaneous celebrations - valentino stopping at the side of the track after winning his first ever race with yamaha. he kisses the bike, he briefly sits down and buries his head in his hands. the commentary thinks he is crying, overcome by the magnitude of what he achieved - but in his autobiography he says he was laughing (x)

“So I was right!” I thought to myself. “I can’t believe it, I tricked them all, what a show!” I kept repeating.

it's just such a pivotal valentino moment... and in its own way, it's a very memorable celebration. an intimate *cough* moment with the bike, a genuine outpouring of emotion from a man who had won pretty much everything there was to win the last few years... but was now attempting to achieve something almost nobody thought he'd be capable of. he WAS right, he DID trick them all - and he certainly put on a show

8. robin hood, donington 1998

listen. I'm a lesbian. this gets as high up the list as it does on sheer concentrated power of lesbianism. I don't even have a lot to say about this one, I just think it's neat how he was winning everything and also winning everyone over while swanning around like THAT. valentino charmed his way into the hearts of the british to such an extent that they would terrorise anyone who looked at him wrong for the next decade plus, and it all started with some remarkably dyke-coded behaviour. look at him with his cap and his bow and his arrow. no wonder he had them all eating out of his hand

7. chicken, catalunya 1998

redefined commitment to the bit. everything about his whole 'inventing a fake sponsor to fuck with the press' saga is obviously just. excellent. all the comedy hijinks where they're getting someone to act as osvaldo and trying to continue stringing the sceptical press along... something about how he managed to still treat the whole thing as a game, still had fun with his friends, didn't take himself too seriously. obviously this celebration is a culmination of sorts of that whole ploy - valentino riding around with his imaginary chicken sponsor to the delight of the crowds. I'm always a fan of a recurring bit, so I also like the continued chicken-themed celebrations over the years. let him be a silly little guy y'know

6. speeding ticket, mugello 2002

this one is just pure camp. what can you even say. like it's such an annoying lame bit that crosses the line again to be incredibly funny, classic valentino style. this race set off valentino's mugello streak after he'd crashed out of his home race in 2001... also low key the speeding ticket was a good idea, given it kept valentino away from a rather dangerous track invasion where one rider was dragged off his bike. so he just stayed out of trouble, did his silly camp theatrics and continued to rack up wins at the circuit for the next six years. so deeply lame. bless

5. portaloo, jerez 1999

this one I confess I didn't really Get when I read about it the first time. kinda went... okay, that's cute, but I also don't really know what the point is. so it's been a bit of a slow burn for me. think it's one that helps to actually watch and then read a bit about the crowd reaction... it's just a classic case of subverting expectations, right. this entire crowd is going nuts at your victory, you're known for your zany post-race celebrations, and then you just... dive into the portaloo. he has to sell it too, I reckon, like it just wouldn't work the same way without his earnest little dash. and so the crowd goes quiet - until erupting with even more volume once he emerges. just that feel for engaging the crowd... for toying with them and winning them over all the more as a result

4. donkey ears, misano 2009

huh, this one really has snuck up the order for me. idk I just find everything about it annoyingly endearing. I like how valentino was willing to take the piss out of himself after his indy crash (which he very much should because it was extremely stupid). I like how he showed up to his home race with a donkey helmet because he'd been such an idiot. it's a tense moment in the championship given that the indy crash having very much reopened the contest. so you've got valentino really committing to this playful way of bouncing back from an embarrassing failure... smart too! it takes the sting out of things, right, just defuses the optics of his big error by gently mocking himself

The donkey is because I was stupid to crash at Indy. [...] [In this race] I was in trouble, I found myself fourth and I didn't feel confident with a full tank. So I took my time to put some more temperature in the tyres and then I attacked. Today, I was the flying donkey!"

I like how he gets his crew to wear donkey ears to greet him in parc fermé. I LOVE him mock-formally shaking the hands of his team - including obviously with luca - before giving them all a proper hug. unfortunately just unavoidably very sweet. and I like him imitating donkey ears to the camera

and OBVIOUSLY I love him putting on those bloody donkey ears for the actual podium. the way he gets down onto his knees in front of the adoring crowd. wonderfully annoying

just something about these later celebrations, when he wasn't doing them as often anymore,,, it's almost strategically recapturing that sense of whimsy, right - using this old part of his repertoire to regain a measure of authorial control. helps bring to the forefront what the celebrations are actually doing for him in practical competitive terms, what he's getting out of them beyond just having a laff. and of course I love how big a fan of these celebrations jorge is (x, x):

Rossi's donkey. At Misano my Captain America was replaced on track by Rossi’s donkey - the one he put on his helmet and the ears he wore onto the podium. It is one of the funniest celebrations I have seen Valentino do and I laughed when I saw him get the helmet out. He is an expert at turning things around, and that wasn’t the only occasion he put that talent to good use this weekend. On the podium he tried to hush the fans who were whistling at me. Personally I saw their reaction as normal because they were defending one of their own. 

one of THE key moments you need to get their dynamic imo. jorge understands exactly what valentino is doing here and they're in the middle of a title fight and jorge really does think it's GREAT. it's sort of the precursor to the misano fish helmet to aragon shark fin 2015 dynamic, right, where jorge is such a keen student of valentino's... and he also is so determined to be magnanimous and honourable and all that other stuff - which is why him glazing the celebrations makes it all the way to his biography. and the helmet makes him laugh, because it's funny! jorge might know what valentino's game is, might be taking notes on exactly what he's doing - but nobody's completely immune

and now *drum roll* my top three in just. a little more detail:

3. kissing the corkscrew, laguna seca 2008

okay, picture this. you are currently leading the championship, but your main rival (who kicked your arse the previous year) has won three races in a row and is steadily closing in on your points tally. he's doing his thing again all weekend, looks ridiculously dominant to the point pretty much everyone is framing this race as a fight for second place. you spend the night before the race plotting and scheming how to make up the difference, and you tell your best friend you will not let your rival win the race whatever happens - even if the both of you have to crash. you go out there and - with all your cunning and guile and ruthlessness - somehow prove yourself capable of hanging with your rival as you gradually infuriate him. on lap four, you plunge down a terrifying blind corner and go off-track as you make an overtake, bumping into your rival and only by some miracle keeping the bike upright. around twenty laps later, you finally break your rival and manage to tease an error out of him that makes him tip the bike into the gravel. you ride the remaining laps in utter tranquillity - not only are you under no threat, but the two of you ran so ferocious a pace that your rival can finish in second even after crashing. you win the race. the championship momentum is back on your side and you have finally managed to drag down your toughest rival down to your level. you know just how much he will have hated that. so, what do you do to commemorate this moment? well, of course you go back to said terrifying blind corner where you almost crashed on lap four of 32. you get off your bike. and you kiss the ground

idk, there's just something beautiful about the presence of mind valentino had to have in order to know that this overtake would be the defining image of the race - to pay tribute to it immediately and reinforce the memorability of that moment in everyone's heads. was he thinking about doing this while cruising home to victory? planning it out while the laps pass by? or was it really just a spur of the moment thing? it's my favourite of the spontaneous celebrations - because of course it could only ever be spontaneous, because he never could have expected to win that race, and certainly not in such a memorable fashion

and then the second part of the celebrations: how valentino decides to really, really, really rub it in. these are for my money quite possibly the most triumphalist celebrations of valentino's premier class career (catalunya 2009 is the only one in the same league), to the point where the eurosport commentators commented on how unusual it was for valentino. back in the day, during his prime, he really did go for a bit more of a cheery but cool tone for his celebrations - almost as if minimising the effort it took to take the win. all just a bit of a laugh, right? no ecstatic fist pumping on the bike, no sign that the victory had ever been in doubt... but here, valentino goes all in. he makes no secret of how delighted he is, no secret of just how much he loved beating casey. interrupts casey during his post-race tv interview in front of lurking cameras and microphone, grins his way through parc fermé and the podium. no playing sly here - he's making a point to savour it. and in commemorating the most memorable moment of the race, in getting a rise out of casey, valentino has gotten exactly what he wanted. together with the race itself, it is this post-race theatre that changes the complexion of the season, that has helped immortalise the episode

which very much includes all the ways valentino interacts with casey directly! the way valentino just REFUSES to leave well enough alone and keeps nagging casey while casey is trying so, so, so hard to not say something he will come to regret in the coming weeks. a task he is ultimately unsuccessful at, but my god is it a brave effort to not strangle valentino then and there. it's fantastic stuff because it's also a pattern of behaviour reserved entirely for casey - latching onto his defeated rival is NOT actually part of the valentino rossi playbook. the closest he gets is interrupting jorge's tv interview too in catalunya 2009 (which is how you know it's a deliberate ploy lol), but after that if anything it's jorge who is initiating communication...

whereas at laguna, obviously casey has less than zero desire to talk to valentino. and obviously valentino is 100% aware of this. valentino usually isn't the sort to get in someone's face like this when he knows they're pissed off at him - he's more the avoidant type - but he makes an exception for casey. partly it'll be because he knows casey isn't doing himself any favours with his on-camera behaviour, partly because it's his chance to twist in the knife and make the experience as hellish as possible for casey - but partly I reckon he's just getting a genuine kick out of casey's reactions. beautiful, isn't it

hell. hell! hell <3

2. prisoner of your own success, brno 2003

look, I've yapped extensively enough about this celebration by now that there's probably not much new for me to say. to make an analogy circa two people reading this will appreciate, you know that episode in revolutionary girl utena where a flashing pointing finger directing the viewer's attention to the symbolically important objects on screen? this is valentino's in-universe equivalent. flexing those authorial muscles to make everyone aware of The Themes. something charming about how it's like. zero subtlety. just valentino turning to the camera and explaining to you, the audience, what character arc he's currently undergoing. you see, he's unhappy at honda - he's feeling trapped, if you will. like his individuality is being suppressed. he had a big cock-up at the sachsenring that made him reevaluate how he tactically approached races - from now on he'd be "taking no prisoners". he feels the media is being too harsh on him, almost as if they're punishing him for how dominant he was the past. which would make him a 'prisoner of his own success'. if you will

here's a post that just like,, has a few relevant quotes from the commentary and the autobiography and all that. key detail about that weekend is that after sulking/partying with his title rival on ibiza during the summer break, valentino shows up to the paddock with his snazzy new hairdo. which obviously the commentators speculate during the race is a form of mind games

dyeing my hair red to psych out the competition. like a pro. the race itself is obviously fantastic, but I love that he had celebrations this elaborate planned out for a race he won by *checks notes* .042 seconds. I mean. come on, could've easily gone wrong. in the end, however, valentino plot armoured his way to reversing the defeat from a few weeks prior - and immediately does this whole chain gang routine, which is just another elite camp bit. and crucially it's also a bit of a throwback! the planned celebrations had petered out a little at this stage of his career, as if he'd grown out of them... both the hair and the celebrations are recapturing his wild lesbian youth from the days before he became a honda factory man

he's got to break free, you see, got to express his identity again. and "prisoner of my own success" is just. such a funny phrase. deeply insufferable. the way he carries that stupid ball and chain around with him, on the bike and off it... how sete has a kick at it during the podium ceremony... how valentino's still holding that blasted thing mid-champagne spray...

open wide

valentino brings back the celebrations later that year when he seals the title - carried aloft by fans dressed in convicts' garb while sporting a massive novelty lock and key. back in brno, he had told yamaha under the cover of night that he would sign for them. when he seals the title, his last for honda, he is freed from the expectations of the press and the fans that had been weighing on him all year. he is about to liberate himself from honda. the novelty lock is now open... whatever that might symbolise. and the following year is about truly embracing his own identity, for better and for worse. beyond being a fun celebration, it functions as a neat little thematic road map for what's to come. plot significant celebration. imagine having plot significant celebrations

1. sweeping the grid, sepang 2004

sue me, I'm horrible, but this one will always come top of the pile for me. this is another one I've talked about way too much by this point - but to me it really is the definitive marriage of joy and cruelty that valentino so thoroughly embodies. he's having fun! coming up with a little joke with his team :) but of course the whole thing is also incredibly, shamelessly malicious. valentino is obviously on one that entire weekend... or, well, he's on one that entire month tbh. he's already exhibited some generational malice in the press conference that started off proceedings, he's doing his thing that entire weekend to unsettle poor sete as much as possible - and eventually he wins the race in reasonably straightforward fashion

which in itself is already enough to swing the title fight back to being basically wrapped up (though I'd still advise keeping the risky last lap phillip island lunges to a minimum, but you do you), so you'd think that'd be job done. except valentino is still feeling furious and vengeful towards both sete and honda. so after blatantly ignoring sete's outstretched hand on the cooldown lap (to the surprise of one of the commentators, who said such unsportsmanlike behaviour was unlike valentino - which... buddy), valentino then stops at the side of the road for another one of his fun little celebrations. this time, it's reenacting the sweeping of the grid that had given him that nasty back-of-the-grid penalty the week before

similarly to misano 2009, what valentino's doing is defanging his own mistake from the previous week - he's reducing its power, drawing attention away from the self-inflicted nature of his precarious championship situation, making his setbacks into jokes better than anyone else can. except unlike in 2009, valentino does not primarily blame himself for his recent humiliation. valentino's pre-planned celebrations are generally about himself, not his rivals - but he makes an exception here to mock sete and honda. to show them that nothing is forgiven. the sete rivalry is about valentino gaining more agency in his story, including in torturing his rivals, so it feels right that this gleeful malice really comes to the fore here too. I didn't include jerez 2005 in this post because that's more... valentino reacting to the crowd in his celebrations rather than doing his own thing (though obviously I'm also a massive massive fan of that energy and dearly wish valentino had been booed more often). and well, that's the same vibe of valentino just relishing how much torment he was causing sete, the spanish crowd... the fourth wall break when he's mocking sete's injury, just properly embracing the nastier side of his celebrations. joy and cruelty, cruelty and joy - these two things were never really in opposition to each other for valentino

and just to mention my favourite detail, the cleaning company valentino and co invent to 'eliminate dirt from the world championship':

as in, they're cleaning starting grids... but they're also taking action against dirty rats. naming no names. lovely, isn't it

the whole thing's mean-spirited to a somewhat cartoonish extent - especially when you consider what a tight timeline they were on here. seven days between qatar and sepang, both flyaway races, like logistically it's honestly kinda impressive they made this happen. what the power of spite will do for you, I suppose. I also love that jb has one of these shirts. I love jb being completely ride-or-die in getting revenge on sete, helpfully commenting that it's dangerous to piss valentino off. watch out :) get yourself a crew chief who will enable you in psychologically torturing your opponents

and, remember, all this came in the third-to-last round of a tight title fight!! with a slender fourteen point lead in the championship, a mere week in between races including quickly nipping back to italy to attempt to address the hole in his finger... and valentino's spending his time coming up with custom shirts to take the piss out of his enemies? fantastic sense of priorities, 10/10 no notes

[incessanttranquility]

Gehenna's First Ever Cook-Off! The Finals! (Part 4)

—

LTD!MC : Hello everyone and welcome back to our cook-off! This will be our finals as our contestants will be cooking dinner for our two judges, everyone, brace yourselves as this cook-off gets pretty tense! Who will be the champion of this cook-off? We shall find out as the cook-off begins once again! Starting now!

—

Team Solomon :

OM!Solomon : Looks delicious as usual :D *Cooking pot is literally steaming black smoke.*

WHB!Solomon : :o looks appetizing :3

OM!Solomon : Thank you, and now it's done! <D

WHB!Solomon : Yay! :] I'll go get a plate :D

*Dish definitely looks... delicious! Totally doesn't look like a frozen soup but the soup is a black substance with octopus legs and chicken feet sticking out of it!*

OM!Solomon : It looks very nice :D I'll just add a pinch of salt and put it in the oven for 10 minutes :3

—

Team Cats and Tea :

*WHB!Satan and OM!Satan is arguing about who will be baking a strawberry pie, Sitri is just doing his own thing, focusing because he wants to win, obviously.*

WHB!Satan : Give me that whisk, NOW.

OM!Satan : There is no fucking way in hell I'm giving this to YOU.

WHB!Satan : As if you can even make a perfect strawberry pie.

OM!Satan : Pfft, hahaha! You're saying that as if you can do that as well, you can't even make a fucking pancake!

WHB!Satan : What the fuck did you just say?!

OM!Satan : I said that you can't even make a fucking pancake, are you fucking deaf or what?!

WHB!Satan : Grr... *crunches teeth as he tackles OM!Satan, they just continue to argue while Sitri just cooks curry, not even giving a shit because all that he cares about is winning, he totally wasn't giving glares at Minhyeok for a moment and then focusing back onto his cooking after that! totally!*

—

Team Best friends :

Minhyeok : Hm, seems that the soup is now ready, Ppyong, I'll help you cook the chicken.

Ppyong : Alright, aye!

Minhyeok : There, while we wait for the chicken to cook, we'll make cherry and pumpkin pie, some iced tea would probably go with it as well, I'll think about that later, but for now, let's make cherry pie first.

Ppyong : Sure, aye! :D

—

Team Mammon :

OM!Mammon : ...Gold, again..? Really?

WHB!Mammon : Yes, except it's cupcakes and ice cream :D

OM!Mammon : Alright but, uh... can we at least cook somethin' that doesn't involve gold...?

WHB!Mammon : Sure :D

OM!Mammon : Alrighty! I'll cook noodles!

WHB!Mammon : Okay :3

—

Team Envy :

OM!Leviathan : ..You've been doing this for 6 hours now...

WHB!Leviathan : *Literally just glaring at him.*

OM!Leviathan : ...I'm making pizza.. can you please at least help...?

WHB!Leviathan : ...Fine.

OM!Leviathan : Finally...

—

LTD!MC : Times up! Contestants, please present your dish.

Sitri : Here you go.

LTD!MC : ...Uh, what the hell happened to those two?

Sitri : They kept on arguing, and both of them ended up getting covered in patches.

LTD!MC : ...Oh, uh, well then, let's move on!

WHB!MC : Pretty good honestly, the curry kind of lacks a little flavor but still good.

OM!MC : As for the pumpkin pie, the taste is... something else, at least it isn't on Solomon's level...

LTD!MC : Alright judges, what would you rate this dish?

WHB!MC : We're gonna give it an 8

LTD!MC : Great, that brings to the total of 22. next contestants, please.

—

Minhyeok : We both got pretty tired making the pie crust, but it's worth it, here you guys go ^^

WHB!MC : Another full-course meal, I love my wife so much.

OM!MC : My taste buds got cured after tasting Minhyeok's pumpkin pie. *Nom.*

LTD!MC : ...Judges, what would you rate this full-course meal?

WHB!MC : 10, obviously.

LTD!MC : Great, that brings to the total of 25, next contestants please.

—

OM!Solomon : Here's our dish :D *Octopus arm is literally sticking out of the soup.*

WHB!MC : I wasn't prepared for this moment.

OM!MC : ... *Faints.*

WHB!MC : Nope, I'm definitely not gonna eat this.

LTD!MC : ...Alright, judges, what would you rate this.. dish..?

WHB!MC : I don't want to make both of them sad so we're gonna give them an 8.

LTD!MC : Alright, that gives them to the total of 16, Next contestants, please. (Note : they got 16 because in part 2, they got an 8 as well, I just forgot to write it because part 3.2 was rushed)

—

WHB!Mammon : Here :D

OM!MC : Gold Ice Cream is yummy, honestly. As for the curry, it lacks some flavor, but it's okay.

OM!Mammon : Hell yeah! I knew ya would like my cookin'!

WHB!MC : *Lick lick.* Delicious, would eat again honestly.

LTD!MC : Alright judges, what would you rate this dish?

WHB!MC : A 9/10.

LTD!MC : Great, that brings to the total of 18, last contestants, please present your dish.

—

WHB!Leviathan : Here.

OM!MC : Mm, tastes really good honestly, but not Minhyeok level, still, it's good.

WHB!MC : I want another slice. *Nom.*

LTD!MC : Alright judges, what would you rate this dish?

WHB!MC : A 10/10. *Nom.*

LTD!MC : Great! That brings to the total of 19, Team Best friends are the winners!

Ppyong : Uwahhh!!! I'm so so happy!!

Minhyeok : Me too, even though I wasn't expecting this, I'm still happy about this ^^

Sitri : WHY YOU— *Got so mad that he started running up to Minhyeok, Satan followed because he also got jealous.*

Minhyeok : E-eh?! What did I do wrong?! *Starts running away.*

LTD!MC : ...Well then, before our cook-off finishes, let us receive messages from our guests one last time!

—

TWST!Yuu : HELL YEAH MINHYEOK WON WOOHOO

Malleus : I'd say that his cooking does look flavorsome and appetizing, Child of Man, would you like me to cook something for you as well?

TWST!Yuu : Awww, sure! Why not?

Malleus : Thank you Child of Man, we'll do it later, I'll walk you to Diasomnia once I ease up.

MM!MC : I knew it, Minhyeok was going to win.

WHB!Beelzebub : The two got way too jealous of him! Hahahaha!

Bael : Now that the cook-off is finished, are you gonna go to work now?

WHB!Beelzebub : Aww man, c'mon now... I still wanna wander around!

Bael : ..You've already left your post for a week now.

WHB!Beelzebub : ...Fine..

LTD!MC : Aaaand that is all for our cook-off! Thanks to the guests for coming here to watch this spectacular Cook-Off! Who knows? Maybe we'll host another one? But once again, thank you everyone for enjoying our Cook-off! I am your host, and goodbye! See y'all soon!

—

Note : WOOHOO I AM FINALLY FINISHED BABY, I might make another one but with the Tartaros demons, so stay tuned :3 It won't be posted here though, It'll be posted on my account @luochaarchivist because I'm abandoning this account, just go follow me there if y'all want to :3

Anyways gonna go tag moot @takitafulily

[sentimuse]

Ever After High X Twisted Wonderland.

I was high when I made this please forgive the babble. I needed it to be said.

OKay so arguably the TWSTverse goes the best with the EAHverse. I may rant about Descendants later but lemme get this out first via Headcanon.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Pre OB! Royal Post OB! Rebel

The hedgehogs get along.

He and Lizzie have an odd relationship. They both have mommy issues but they both want to live up to their mothers' standards. Riddle has a hyperfixation for her mom and a deep seeded pride regarding her, that gets strained when he and Lizzie commiserate about shitty moms. Lizzie feels weird cuz he's nice but he idolizes her mom and that's awkward when you both have bad moms you still love in a strained almost begrudging way. They're good friends but don't seem like it due to the awkwardness of it all

He really gets along with Kitty and Maddie. Strangely Maddie is the one that reminds him of Che'Nya (Kitty does too because duh but personality wise). Always talking in riddles and rhymes but still a very good friend.

Gets introduced to Ginger via Trey and has to fight himself internally to not fucking ask for a strawberry tart from her. He's genuinely curious as to what it tastes like but knows that Trey would grill his ass into knowing which one was better and would face Dorm Card Trey Consequences. 

Trey Clover:

Rebel and always has been.

He's great friends with Lizzie due to her being kinda just a tamer Riddle.

Friends with Kitty and Maddie as well.

Has had baking contests with Ginger. (Friendly? maybe.)

Midkey respects Daring for having that pearly white of teeth. He's a little jealous, but Trey has the leg up because Daring is kinda vapid.

Is weirdly close with Mad Hatter cuz Trey is always able to concoct whatever weird flavor he's asked for.

Cater Diamond:

He's a Rebel 4lifer

He and Goldie are fucking ride or die besties. Swapping influencer tips? Yes. I bet they even got matching endorsements.

Him and Maddie are besties but not as much. He likes how bubbly she is.

Cater also really gets along with Briar and they're able to connect a little about insecurities and socializing stress.

Cater would fucking love it here everything is so aesthetic and his Magicam would blow tf up plus he's so girlie pop I don't think the transition would be that hard for him. He fits in really well.

Deuce Spade:

Rebel 

NGL him and Ace also fit into EAH really well they're good people (most of the time) and their flaws are light hearted enough to survive transplanting. Deuce is just a lil ditzy and has some anger issues but really loves his mom and baby chickens??? Just a little guy energy.

He would get along well with Cerise imo. Their vibes are similar to me, that is the best explanation I have.

Probably has a crush on Raven he also relates somewhat to the bad past but wants to be good things.

Ace Trappola:

Rebel

Ace is a shitter. Fucking asshole goofster. But he has a pretty decent head on his shoulders.

Really gets along with Kitty being two shitsers.

Strangely good friends with Lizzie. I mean if you're gonna rule at least be fair yeah?

Epel Felmier:

Rebel

He's absolute BESTIES with Darling. Because they're both feminine and want to break out of what life has assigned them. 

He's also pretty tight with Cedar.

Wants to be friends with Ramona so so so so so fucking bad.

Vil Schoenheit:

I hate to say it but my man is a centrist.

He understands and respects the audacity the royals have to think they can force others into roles they aren't meant for. However that's kinda his whole fucking issue in life. He doesn't mind some of the Royals, Apple is certainly more bearable than Neige and I'm certain that Vil can see right through her.

Sympathizes with Apple honestly. He'd want to like this Evil Queen and has pointed out her good points like being strong at magic and a good manipulator but also she's kinda a bitch so womp womp.

Totally gets along with Raven he's like the midpoint between the two.

Is very annoyed by Goldie.

Hangs out with Cupid and Rook sometimes. 

Good friends with and commiserates with Duchess.

Rook Hunt:

Rebel ofc bb

Bro if so girly pop and hangs out with Cupid. They go on about pretty things and love together. He and Vil encourage her to go after Dexter.

He's aloof enough to fit into the EAH verse.

Does his rounds with the cast susing them out. Has the Leona infatuation with Ramona. 

Isn't fond of Goldie she's too keen to pry into his life.

Idia Shroud:

Is a Doomer Royal with Rebel sentiments.

Bro is maybe too sad for EAH but the books are a lil kwazy soo…

He hangs out with the gamer boys sometimes like Humphrey and Dexter if he has to socialize.

Would rather hang with Ortho but Ortho is hanging out with Cedar.

Fucking hates it here.

Ortho Shroud:

Bro fucking LOVES it here. Absolute Rebel.

He and Cedar are FAST FAST friends for being non human humans.

Loves hanging with Maddie and the girls.

Probably has like a shitpost Snap/Insta with the wackiest fucking pictures of himself, Cedar. Briar, Raven and Maddie. Like drunk college kid shit, tiddlywinks and necromancy.

Is everyone's little brother and he fucking THRIVES being able to be an enabled little shitter. No clue who helped Kitty and Ace with their latest prank. Couldn't be sweet Ortho! He's just a little guy!

Azul Ashengrotto:

Considered a neutral student for business, but is very much a pragmatist about it whatever the fuck that means lmao. He's a Rebel

Is both sad and relieved there aren't more eels.

He and Hopper are besties tho.

Suave cool guys sometimes and fucking trainwrecks otherwise? Kinnies even

Becomes lowkey midkey hydrophobic upon learning Meeshell turns fishy when wet.

Jade and Floyd:

Both Rebels ofc

Floyd and Jade are living it tf up.

Jade is investigating new mushrooms

Floyd is fucking shit up everywhere he goes and teaching them basketball or learning their basketball.

OFC Floyd has the nicknames on DECK

Maddie likes Floyd's silly nicknames and isn't so fond of him being mean sometimes.

She's also like mildly scared of Jade but he's nice to her dad and they talk about mushroom tea and treats so he's okay in her book.

Floyd always be racing Ramona or Cerise or doing some dumb shit with Briar.

Jade does his girlboss info gathering like in the one vignette with Vil where he looks so pathetically malewife.

Cedar is kept very very far from them.

Jamil Viper:

Rebel and honestly most of them are.

Surprisingly hangs out with Justine and Duchess. 

They be dancing N shit y'know.

Surprisingly gets along with Ashlynn.

Hangs out with Duchess when she gets fed up with Leona.

They vent about Kalim and Princess.

Kalim Al-Asim

Rebel but is so bubbly and sympathetic he's almost a centrist.

Kalim is so sweet he'd be like "Yeah Apple I totally get you wanna be queen and stuff but it makes Raven sad. :((("

Man is living it UP per usual.

He's hanging with every single person he can.

Absolute besties with Briar and Melody.

He's such a ball of sunshine.

He'd be so fucking happy here.

Leona Kingscholar:

Rebel ofc and would be a lot more dramatic about it than Raven is/was.

She ripped the page out of the Book of Legends? Bestie Leona would've dusted the whole thing like Azul's contracts. 👀 👀

Okay that's exaggerating he would've done the same thing.. Maybe

Honestly jokes aside he'd be more akin to Idia. A doomer rebel. 

He bothers tf out of Duchess and they're actually good friends.

Her drive to succeed kinda invigorates him.

Honestly bro is the same as ever. He eeps, he eats, he makes Ruggie do shit. 

SIKE!!!

Leona in the EAHverse would come to be like a god-tier version of himself. It would force his character development into being better than Falena imo. Yeah you could look at him and say he's just laze around, but in the middle of not only a class, but a life threatening conflict that is so deeply entwined with his actual life? If you ask me a PostOB! Leona would be all OVER this shit. He would be making full on plans and figuring shit out like well…a king. *laugh track*

Maybe then he'd like leave Ruggie alone or have a heart to heart with Ruggie or some cool emotionally mature shit. 

Ruggie Bucchi:

So audaciously a Rebel.

He hangs a lot with Maddie and Ashlynn.

Rosabella is also very nice to him. They're like sibs imo. She tells him to be nicer he tells her she's short or smthn and gives her backbone a boost.

Ruggie with a more developed Leona and with something solid to stand for would be a force to be reckoned with ngl. Even tho I think Ruggie has the weird trauma impulse that he has to earn his keep or earn others love for him so while I think Leona would be nicer to Ruggie part of that kindness is the unspoken way Leona lets Ruggie "steal" from him or do his laundry or whatever to feel like he has "earned" that money or food when those are just things people should do for you or do their best to provide for you because you exist and you are loved and cared for.

Anyway I just think we'd get a softer and a bit less cynical Ruggie. Not less crafty tho.

Jack Howl:

Rebel obvi.

Absolute besties with the Wolf sisters.

They do wolf things together.

Honestly I don't think much would change for him.

He'd be with the Savannaclaw boys being huge Rebel activists because of course they are. <3

Malleus Draconia:

Conflicted but ultimately a Rebel. Understands that people have things they need to do but they should be afforded the choice if possible.

HUGE HUGE BESTIES with Raven. Goth Girlies Unite!!!

Being around Raven and Maddie alot does WONDERS with him being more social and approachable. Maddie is their "cute item"

Hangs out with Cupid a lot after hearing about an old Gargoyle friend she had and REALLY wants to go to Monster High and meet her.

Fucking hates Faybelle. Thinks it's uncouth to crash parties.

Gets so so sad just looking or thinking about Briar.

They're mega besties tho and he like apologizes several times over even though it wasn't his Thorn Fairy that caused this. Immortality sucks dick.

She tells him to chill and shows him how to work a phone. /hj

They cry into ice cream and go on adventures a lot.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Rebel silly

Bro loves it here. The people are so spookable and he's just a cute little guy y'know!

He dispenses his wisdom and has an official ban from all kitchens so decreed by a combined front of (everyone) but mostly Ginger, Trey, and the Crumbs.

Hangs out mostly gaming but also with Poppy!

Poppy does his hair all the time, mostly via magic for funsies.

Also hangs with Kitty and Courtly.

Silver:

Rebel (He's his father's son)

Fits in so well. Really looks like one of the Charmings.

Hangs out mostly with Darling and Chase.

He has a one sided blood feud with both Hunter and Apple.

He's so princely and he's surrounded by birds and is in nature all the time??

Apple thinks he's coming for her place being so pretty when sleeping and surrounded by forest animals and flowers?? C'mon man wtf??

Hunter thinks he's coming for his girlfriend because Silver was nice to/talked to Ashlynn ONCE.

Bro can't catch a break from Briar either. She's the opp of his sleepiness. 

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek would be whatever Malleus is because loyalty. He is in all honesty so truly deeply conflicted.

All he wants to do is be a good knight for Malleus. He has wanted this forever. It's like his destiny. But then again he kinda (maybe? Idk I haven't read chapter 7 anything) got to choose this. But he should be loyal to whatever it is Malleus chooses, but what if in this world the book chose some STRANGER to be Malleus' knight and not him? AND THEN WHAT IF

In short he's very likely a Rebel he's just gotta get their. 

Crisis of Identity part 2 aka (I've conquered my internalized racism at being part human but now I'm not sure who I am personality and morality wise. What a conundrum! The Musical The Series The Musical.)

He hangs out with Darling and Chase as well.

Is also pretty close with Cerise and Raven.

All in all things would go pretty well together not that ANY of what I said explains that, but in long:

EAH is based on the idea of Destiny v.s Free Will and talks about the deep seeded fears and problems that would come from a society that tells you you must be one thing your whole life when you want to be another. Which goes very well with how the Overblots happen. 

Riddle is pressured and abused by his mother to be a perfect star child and that pressure is too much for him and he snaps. 

Leona is always considered second best and less than his brother. 

Azul has a poorly written (imo) overblot but he wants to feel comfortable in his own skin and feels he needs to do so by being in total control of every situation so he can look good and not feel inferior, as he was bullied in his childhood.

Jamil has to downplay himself to make Kalim look better and is made to live a life where he can never be his true self. 

Vil also has a poorly written overblot (imo) but he wants to feel loved and appreciated and to not be the villain he's always casted as. (Literally Raven's ENTIRE thing)

Idia wants to be a hero, and cope with the guilt of feeling like he killed his brother.

Malleus is grappling with mortality and not having a "proper" family. (Briar does the first half of this in the show)

EAH also does bend and change these "destinies"

Darling being Apple's "Prince"

Daring being with Rosabella when he was certain he'd be with Apple.

In the books, Cedar coming to terms with "being human" without having to be made of physical flesh and bone or being actually human. Thus disregarding the need for her story. 

Apple being the more ruthless between her and Raven when she is supposed to be kind and sweet.

Red and Big Bad being together.

In the books again, Brooke interacting with the story. 

So in long with shit for details and no real argument. I think Ever After High and TWST would make a great crossover and maybe I just want more people to do more idk modern(??) things with EAH. But also I'm a sucker for X but a Highschool/College thing.

[owmylasagna-blog]

5 for eene obv, 7 for ed and may, 12, 23, and then 25 for eddy!

Thanks for the ask!

5. Out of all your EENE fanworks, which is your favourite?

It’s weird I feel like I’ve had two distinct eras of eene fandom, you know? But I’d probably have to go with my magnum opus like me still. It’s been one of the most ambitious and challenging creative projects I’ve ever attempted for the show, and it’s honestly connected me with so many more amazing fans 🥰

7. Is there a piece of clothing you think ED/MAY is particularly fond of/that you imagine them wearing a lot or like to draw them in?

I’d love to figure out a way for Ed to repurpose his green jacket when he inevitably grows out of it. Maybe he makes a bunch of patches from it that he sticks on other stuff. I also had this idea for my adult AU where he only owns one pair of shoes and they are the most tattered blundstones you’ve ever seen. Idk I associate Ed with art handler fashion and memes (sorry this is probably a ridiculous niche thing).

May is a tricky one! I’m not sure I’ve nailed down her aesthetic 100% yet. Some mix of cottage-witch and millennial that was once an emo/scene kid but hasn’t really grown out of it. I think May really likes lounge clothes - massively oversized sweatpants she had to cut cropped because they dragged, worn in t-shirt she cant let go of even if it’s getting holes, fuzzy socks. I just think it’s cute.

12. What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

I’ve definitely thought of some stupid shit, mostly through absurd crossovers. This would have been over 10 years ago now but I’d whipped up a RuPaul’s Drag Race AU where they were all contestants (in this version it was inclusive of all drag, not just queens). I truly hope nobody finds this thing lol.

23. Has your favourite character/ship changed over time?

I just genuinely love the three eds equally. I have an extra soft spot for Ed and always have. And eddeddy has been THE otp for over a decade. No change there.

25. What's your least favourite thing EDDY said or did?

I usually support Eddy’s many wrongs but I guess I was disappointed in how unsympathetic he was to Ed in Little Ed Blue. Like that’s your best bud, you’re not a little worried? Don’t get me wrong, it’s extremely in character and says a lot about his (and even Edd’s) upbringing and overall the episode is fucking hilarious “look at me, I’m a chicken. How bout I lay an egg?” I love this little jerk. I’m sure there are objectively worse things but that’s the first one that came to mind.

[the-fiction-witch]

Lets Play

Media - The Maze Runner Series AU Characters - Newt Couples - Newt X Reader / Thomas X Teresa / Minho X Harriet / Gally x Brenda Rating - 18 + death / abuse / blood / cheating / fire / burning/ Saw movie Word Count - 4202

When I woke I felt dizzy and disorientated, my body felt sticky and strange. The last thing I remember was... curling up in bed with Newt. But nothing about this feels right. Slowly I push myself up and let my eyes clear but nothing but darkness surrounds me.

"Hello? Anyone there?" I called out,

"Y/n!" The voice of Teresa calls out,

"Teresa! Where are you!"

"I don't know!"

"Here! Follow my voice, follow the sound," I told her,

"I- I can't reach you there's like a gate or something!"

I got to my feet and tried to walk but in any direction I moved I found only wire mesh, "Where are we?"

"I don't know, I was trying to feel around but I have no idea." She answered,

"Teresa! Y/n! Is that you!" Harriet called out,

"Yes! Yes Harriet we're here!" Teresa yelled back,

"What's going on!" She asked,

"We don't know, what's the last thing you remember?" I asked,

"Just- just going to bed with Minho," Harriet answered,

"That's all I remember either just going to bed with Thomas," Teresa answered,

"Same, I just remember going to bed with Newt," I answered,

"This has to be some prank right, some stupid prank the boys are pulling!" Harriet suggested,

"No. The boys are dumb but they wouldn't do something like this, I know Newt wouldn't," I answered,

"Y/n!" Newt called out,

"Newt!" I screamed, "Newt where are you!"

"I'm here, I'm here sweetie. I can hear you but I can't see you."

"I can hear you, just follow my voice please!" I begged trying to follow his voice but still, all I found was this chicken wire,

"I can't! I can't there's something between us, like a fence!" He explained,

"Newt!" Minho's voice yelled out,

"Minho!" Harriet yelled,

"Harriet! Harriet where are you, honey!" Minho yelled the only sound was the clanking of a metal gate,

"What the hell is going on!" Teresa screamed,

Suddenly light was enough to burn my eyes, but it released where we were. We were inside a dirty old warehouse, eight cells no larger than a few feet square made of chicken wire and metal pipes each one held one of us, with enough space between no one could reach one another. A long corridor down the centre, four cells on each side, one side had us girls, the other the boys. Newt was across from me and the moment he saw me he began gripping and fighting with the fence to try and reach me.

"What's going on... what is this place?" I began to cry,

"Thomas!" Teresa screamed, as across from her Thomas was still asleep, "Thomas wake up!"

"Wake up thomas!" We all started shouting in his direction,

Slowly he got to his feet groggy and shaken up as we all were, I looked closer and saw the last two cells, where Gally and Brenda lay, we all shouted and screamed their names, and finally after what felt like an hour of shouting they both got to their feet.

"Where the fuck are we," Gally asked,

"No one knows. all anyone remembers is going to bed like any other day," Newt answered,

"Then how do we get out of here!" Teresa cried,

"Welcome... to the games..." A voice echoed, this hellish voice from above, a voice we all knew. The voice from the news, 'The Game Master'

"Let us out of here!" Minho yelled,

"All-in-time players." The voice said, "But let's explain the terms and conditions."

"Everyone shut the fuck up and listen." Brenda demanded, "Or it's all of our heads... literally."

"From this moment on, everything you say. Everything you do. It is being broadcast nationwide, so let's introduce the public." They explained, "Welcome to the games. As all of you know I am The Game Master... For this month's game I have taken a theme to heart for this celebration of love... let's meet our contestants." They explained,

Immediately flood lights lit Gally and Brenda's cells,

"Gally Warren And Brenda Smith, just having celebrated two months of dating together."

The floodlights moved to Minho and Harriet,

"Minho Lauren and Harriet Renly, three years of dating,"

The floodlights moved to Tresea and Thomas' cells,

"Thomas Peters And Teresa Anges, Freshly engaged congratulations."

"Let us out you psycho!" Thomas yelled,

Finally, the floodlights came to Newt and I's cells,

"Isaac and Y/n Newton, Five whole years married, quiet the competitors" They explained, "The Games are simple, One couple lives. The others shall die. We'll see how strong your love really is... " They explained, "There are Three rooms each one will require a price to make it to the next room and I promise the winning couple will be set free to the waiting arms of law enforcement... So. Let's begin."

Everyone began to scream, to cry, to panic, but Newt met my eyes and we spoke a thousand words to each other this understanding between us as he glanced at my stomach, we had to get out of here... no matter what it takes and with tears in my eyes I nodded.

"The first game, I like to call the love tester... and it's all about trust,"

Suddenly a machine ran down the gap between the middle of the cells,

"The rules are simple, the tester will pick a couple at random. When it comes to you, you must place your hand on the tester to set your lover free."

"That's it? That's all we have to do?" Minho asked,

"All things come with a price. Good Luck." They answered,

The machine whirred as it speeded up and down the track between the cells before suddenly it stopped in front of Thomas and Teresa,

"Yes! Yes please please thomas get me out of here!" She begged him,

"Okay," He nodded his hand shaking as he slowly put his hand through the hole in the wire and gripped the handle, but the moment he did, a strap wrapped around his wrist keeping him in place, and he screamed out as a needle was forced into his wrist draining a needle full of his blood.

Everyone screamed out in panic until it let him go and a green light appeared above Teresa's cell. "Ohh fuck that hurt... that hurt..." He gasped,

"I- I don't -" Teresa began,

"You have to! please!" Thomas begged her,

She nodded as the machine changed to a new needle and even if she cried she let the machine take her blood.

"Congratulations. You both make it to the next round."

Their cells opened and they both quickly ran to each other and bolted into the next room,

"Let's see who's next then..."

The machine moved back and forth once more making us wait in fear before it stopped before Minho and Harriet.

"Let's get the fuck out of here honey," He told her as the machine changed needles and he quickly let it take his blood even if he grunted through it, Harriet did the same screaming as it took her blood.

"Very fast and simple we love it," They said as their cells opened too,

I held my breath we would be next fearful we may have lost before we even had a chance, but it stopped at Gally and Brenda with a new needle,

"Okay. Okay, no problem." Brenda said nodding nervously as she happily let it take her blood turning Gally's cell green, "Okay. Your turn."

But Gally Hesistated.

"Gally... Gally... you..." she begged holding her arm,

"I... I can't... Brenda, I'm sorry..."

"What!"

"Gally you can't leave her!" I screamed at him,

"You what what you want! but my cell is open." Gally yelled, "Brenda I'm sorry..."

"You- You bastard!"

"We've been together two months! I don't wanna die for you... I don't wanna die... I'm sorry..."

"Noooooo please!" She begged,

"It seems he has made up his mind." They said,

The machine moved over and stopped in front of Newt and me with new needles,

"I love you." Newt nodded,

"I love you too." I nodded back and we both grabbed it at the same time, it pinned both our wrists down and I tried not to look, not to scream as it forced the needle into my wrist and took enough blood to make me dizzy As soon as it released us the cages opened,

Newt took me in his arms and held me tightly to his chest, I held him as tight as I could without hurting him,

"Please! Y/n! Newt! Please god help me!" Brenda begged,

"We're so sorry Brenda," I told her,

"We're so so sorry," Newt told her before we bolted for the door, standing with the others.

"Noooooooooooo please!" She screamed out,

Gally tried to open his cell but even if the light was green he couldn't open it, "What... what... no! No!"

"Both go. Or neither go." They explained,

"Bring it back! Bring it back I'll do it!" Gally explained,

"Your choice has been made, our first losers." They explained,

As they both screamed out begging for help the door slammed shut sealing them and their screams. Another door opened leading to another room,

We all slowly walked inside Newt kept me close in his arms as we walked into the room, with six platforms and handles.

"Each must stand on one platform, and both hands must touch the Handle." They explained as the door slammed shut behind us,

We knew we had no choice so Newt and I shared a kiss before we did as he said, Minho and Harriet, and Thomas and Teresa followed suit. Once we all had our hands on the handles they locked us in with cuffs unable to move away holding us in place at the ankles and the wrists.

"Lovely now this little test I like to call sink or swim. And it's all about the loving act of forgiveness." they explained, "Each will have to forgive and forget, or to punish. Let's start with Minho and Harriet."

A projector clicked on showing pictures on the dark wall, and their platforms jolted downward. As the first picture came up a car turned over and burning,

"Harriet, Minho took your car a few months into your dating. He was drunk and flipped the car, which you were then blamed for... do you forgive him?"

Minho's platform lowered slowly as it did it revealed a fire burning below already starting to singe his feet,

"Ahhh! Harriet! please!" He screamed

"Yes! Yes, of course, I forgive him!" she agreed,

And Minho's platform held still, keeping him close to the flames but not enough to burn him, and the picture changed to Harriet out dancing,

"Minho, Harriet stole one hundred dollars from your wallet while she was drunk, she found your wallet in her purse and proceeded to use all the money you had. Do you forgive her?"

Harriet's platform began to lower getting her closer and closer to the flames,

Minho was angry it was obvious on his face,

"Minho! Minho please I'm sorry! please!" She screamed as her ankles began to burn,

"Yes! I forgive her!" He yelled,

Both their platforms came to the top far from the flames.

"Congratulations." They said, "Now... Newt and Y/n..."

I gasped already terrified but I met eyes with Newt and we nodded to each other, but the picture changed and I wanted to cry as I saw Newt and the sweet orange tabby,

"Newt... When you first moved in together, you discovered Y/n had a cat allergy, meaning you had to try and rehome the tabby cat Mittens that you had raised since she was a kitten for over 18 years. But when the cat couldn't be rehomed due to its age... Y/n convinced you to take the cat to be put to sleep."

The platform began to lower, I tried desperately to move from the flames but I had no way of getting away from them

"Do you forgive her?" they asked,

"Newt... newt you know I didn't want to, I just wanted what was best for her please!" I begged,

"Of course I do!" He yelled,

My platform stopped even if it was hot enough to still hurt me,

"Of course I forgive her. I loved that cat of course I did... but if it was between my cat and Y/n... of course I pick her."

"Thank you Newt." I nodded,

"Y/n." They began and the picture changed again and my blood ran cold, "The weekend before your wedding, Newt and his friends went off to his bachelor party, and while intoxicated he received a lapdance from a very nice young lady, who he proceeded to make out with heavily"

"Y/n I..." he began,

"Do you forgive him?" They asked,

as Newt began to lower slowly towards the flames,

"You never told me about that..."

"I didn't think you wanted to hear it! Yes, I did it! and I'm so so sorry... I was black out, everyone was just forcing shots down my throat, I never meant to betray you, it never went any further than kissing! Y/n please!" He screamed as he got closer and closer, the flames lapping at his ankles, "I thought it was you! I swear to god I thought she was you! I was so blacked out! her hair was the same as yours, I thought she was you! Please, Y/n! I've never even thought of any other woman but you since I met you I promise you!"

"Yes!" I yelled out, "I forgive him..." I nodded through my tears, "I know it was a complicated situation... you've been in worse ones before and I know you haven't betrayed me. Then or now."

And we both moved back up,

"Thank you sweetie... thank you." He cooed,

The picture changed to one of Teresa's old wardrobe,

"Now Teresa... Thomas got himself deep into a debt after betting on football games, when he learnt he couldn't pay this debt he went to your wardrobe collected and pawned all of your designer bags, jewellery and clothes." They explained, "Do you forgive him?"

Thomas began to lower towards the flames,

"Teresa... I had to you know I had to..."

"There were thousands... thousands thomas... and you pawned it all." she cried,

"I know! They'd have taken the car if I didn't!"

"Oh yes, your precious car! so you keep your car and I lose everything!"

"It was some bags!" He yelled back "Teresa please!" He yelled as the flames lapped at his knees, "Please Teresa I'll do anything I'll buy you everything again! just please!" He screamed in pain,

"I forgive him!" She yelled out, "I forgive him... and you are never betting again."

"I know... I know..." he nodded,

"Thomas... You went on a work trip some months ago," They began and the picture changed to Teresa... with Gally, "While you were away, Gally came to look after the household with Teresa, to keep her company... and the two made sure to be comfortable as they made love in your bed."

Teresa began to lower and already she was screaming,

"You cheated on me!"

"It wasn't like that-"

"You cheated on me!" he screamed, "With Gally! My friend! I was out of town worried about you! and you fucked someone else while I was gone!"

"It wasn't like that he was sweet, and kind, and I was-"

"I don't care! You fucked him! You slept with another man!"

"Thomas please!" she screamed out in agony as she was lowered deeper and deeper into the flames, "THOMAS! PLEASE!!"

"Burn in fucking hell you bitch!" He yelled,

"TTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSS!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" She screamed out,

I did my best to look away as the platform fully dropped leaving her to scream and burn,

"I suppose some things can't be forgiven..." They explained, "But rules are rules... and if you can't forgive you shouldn't be forgiven," and immediately the platform thomas was on dropped sending him down into the flames where he screamed and burned,

The cuffs released and immediately Newt and I held each other tightly checking each other's burns as did Minho and Harriet.

The door opened so we all rushed into the next room, the door snapped shut and opened to the next room, this room was simpler with two walls with several holes,

"This is what I like to call the intimate test... each must stand on a platform and face their lover with the wall between them." They explained,

Slowly we did as we were told and I looked at Newt both of us in so much pain and tearful from the horrors we had been through,

"Now... think of this game as Simon says." They explained,

One of the holes lit up a bleep sounding as it did, with the word hands over it, it was just at our hand levels so Newt and I did as it said putting our hands through the wall to hold our hands together, I began to look at the other holes... and got... very worried.

Minho and Harriet did the same,

The next hole lit and another Bleep ... another hand, so Newt and I did as it asked connecting our other hands through the wall,

Minho and Harriet nervously did the same,

The next hole lit, another bleep and it said lips right in front of our faces, I felt a small chill but we did as it asked and connected our lips in a kiss,

Minho and Harriet took a few moments but slowly they did so too,

I got more and more nervous the longer we waited until we heard the bleep again, Newt pulled back to look around to see what had happened one of the hand holes had turned off and a hole far lower lit reading intimacy.

"No... no they can't be -" Harriet began,

"I think it is..." Minho sighed,

"Newt- newt I don't want to..." I cried,

"I know. I know... I know sweetie, but what choice do we have," he softly cried, and we slowly did as it asked separating one hand for Newt to pull himself out and for me to adjust myself until he slipped through the hole in the wall and inside me. It was horrifically mortifying but as he said... what choice did we have? The hand hole lit back up so we connected our hands again remaining in his state while...

Minho did it too after a while of convincing but Harriet wouldn't,

"Harriet come on!" Minho yelled, "Please!"

"I can't I'm sorry I'm so sorry I just can't."

"Harriet please just do it!" he screamed,

"A choice has been made." They explained,

and in one sharp sound, it happened, Minho screamed out in pain as a blade had come down the wall like a guillotine and sliced off his cock and Harriet's hands at the wrist, Minho screamed and fell to the ground, Harriet froze up for a few seconds looking at her wrists before she screamed,

"Run!" Newt demanded,

We quickly separated an within seconds of us moving back a blade shot down our own, that would have done the same to us if we hadn't been fast enough, Newt fixed himself and grabbed my hand the two of us bolting for the door to the next room, He held me in his arms and I held him tightly too as we gasped and cried in panic and shock as the door sealed silencing their screams,

"It's okay. It's okay it's over." Newt cooed,

The door opened to another room this one with a single scale and a table of blades,

"No... no no no." Newt panicked, "You said the last couple standing. You promised. The last couple gets to live. gets to walk out of here. You PROMISED US!"

"I did. But as you recall I said there were three rooms," they answered,

"Three rooms..." I gasped, "The first room wasn't a test... it was just a cage."

"There were always three tests... Gally and Brenda..." Newt gasped as he held me tight,

"Merely had to pay to start the game... shame," they explained,

"Fine... fine..." Newt cried, "What do we have to do to get out of here?"

"It's a simple one, a little test I call to measure up," they explained, "How much do you love each other, how much are you willing to show in hard measurements how much you love them? It's very easy... just put 6.4 pounds on the scale and you're free."

"Six... six point four..." I gasped clutching my stomach,

"No... no no please..." Newt begged, "She's - she's pregnant, you can't do this I'm begging you."

"I am well aware..." they smirked, "I suppose I should introduce our secret extra contestant, Little Baby Newton snuggly in mummy's tummy. But the game is the game, 6.4 pounds, on the scale before the timer runs out. Show how much you love each other that you are willing to carve out your first child. And if you don't the room will flood with carbon monoxide when the timer runs out. Best of luck."

A timer appeared with ten minutes, that was it,

"Nooo no no please Newt. not out baby please no..."

"No I won't. I swear to you I won't" He cooed, holding me close, "I swear I will not hurt our baby."

"...Then how will we fill it..." I began,

"I know a way..." Newt sighed, as he picked up a large meat cleaver, "He said police right outside... I just have to survive long enough before I go into shock."

"Can we trust him!"

"I don't know..." he sighed,

"Me. Do me. Take my arm- my leg whatever you need too!"

"No! I can't... I can't hurt you, you are weak enough already, and given your bump I can't carry you, sweetie..." He cried, "It has to be me."

"You can't Newt please," I begged,

"My ankle is already broken beyond repair... it'll be enough." He nodded, as he pulled off his shirt and sat on the floor as close to the door as he could, "When I do this, you have to be ready, you have to throw it in the scale and get me out before I go into shock. Okay?" He asked using his shirt to tie around his knee as a turnikit.

"Okay... how do you know this will work?"

"... I don't." He sighed, "Ready?"

"Ready." I nodded,

He nodded putting the end of his shirt in his mouth and quickly swung screaming out in pain tears in his eyes,

"You did good again quickly!" I told him,

He quickly did another swing getting further but he shook his head his hand shaking unable to do more,

I grabbed the cleaver and trembled watching the timer tick down, "I'm so sorry my love," I told him before I hacked as hard and as fast as I could trying to block out his screams of pain until his leg separated, I quickly grabbed it and brought it to the scale tossing it inside which luckily was just enough and the door opened,

"Quick thinking, thank you so much for playing. Our winners congratulations!" They spoke up,

"Come on Newt." I grabbed his arms doing my best to drag him out the door I screamed out as I dragged his bleeding body away down the corridor using every bit of strength I had to give him kisses and tell him I loved him in the hope he would stay conscious,

I forced open the door out into a cold grassy hill where this warehouse sat, I saw the lights of police in the distance as their cars grew closer, I held Newt in my arms doing everything I could,

"Stay with me, please please I know it hurts, I know but stay with me, don't close your eyes," I begged between tears,

"Y/n..." He softly stroked my cheek, "I ..love ...you..."

"I love you too," I told him, "Just stay with me please They are almost here."

"Take... take care... of our baby," he begged his eyes getting heavy,

"No, No no no! Please no!" I screamed, "No, we're gonna take care of our baby, both of us. Newt please!"

His eyes fluttered shut and I held him tightly to my chest screaming and crying as the police pulled up immediately bolting inside the building,

"Take him! Please! Please!" I screamed as an ambulance pulled up and immediately came and took Newt from my arms,

I got to my feet, tears in my eyes, blood all over me, my body burnt and bruised... as I walked slow steps towards the police and ambulance,

"Mrs Newton?" An office asked,

But I felt the hellish pain in my stomach and I knew what was happening as I clutched my stomach and screamed out as my body hit the floor,

"Mrs Newton!"

I stirred and shifted in the cheap hospital bed, the sounds of bustling beyond the door of my room,

"Hey sleepy head," Newt cooed softly,

I smiled as best I could as I turned to see him sitting in his wheelchair holding our sweet little baby girl in his arms, our bodies bandaged and repaired physically even if the scars mentally... would likely never heal,

"Hey," I cooed, "How are you?" I asked,

"Fine... my leg itches... which is really maddening given... I have no leg," He explained and I couldn't help but laugh a little, "but apparently that will go away, How are you?"

"I'm okay." I nodded, I opened my arms and he handed her over, "Hello my little lady,"

"Our little Lilly," he smiled kissing her head,

"Our sweet little Lilly," I cooed, "I love her so much,"

"I love her too," He nodded, "And I love you, more than anything"

"I love you too, more than anything else in this world," I cooed, holding his hand softly,

[iicha-0s]

Kissing Contest| !vminkook×reader

A/N: hey guys this is a new series! this is the first part. lmk what you guys think! hope you enjoy it! :D

Tags: !drug use (alchohol, weed), !very cocky behaviour, !mentions of masturbation, !kink, !mentions of sex, !all four of you are hard-core party people, !smoking, !alchohol consumption, !flirting

"please no guy knows how to kiss." You wave your hand in the air.

"You're just saying that because you haven't kissed me." he crosses his arms over his chest acting proud of his supposed kissing skills.

"please when i say guys, i mean all guys in general. it's like you're tryna slop up an ice-cream when you try to kiss someone."

"puh-lease. don't count me in amongst these numb skulls. i've had a lot of ladies tell me about my amazing tongue skills."

"uhuh, and how many of them were drunk out of their minds?" You roll your eyes and stand up, pushing past people to go to the kitchen. you pour yourself another drink and chug it down before refilling your glass once again.

*the next day*

Jimin sits down opposite to you and next to Jungkook while Taehyung sits down next to you.

"whatchu guys talking about?" he takes hold of a fork and digs into his burrito bowl.

"I just don't get why you said that to me yesterday. like you haven't kissed me to know about my kissing skills!" He brings up last night's topic again while stabbing a piece of fried chicken with his fork.

"ugh! im not doing this again." You roll your eyes.

"What! its true. stop normalising everyone else's behaviours on me. i'm not like everyone else."

"yea yea. you're the golden ball or something, aren't you?"

"egg. im the golden egg."

"tomayto, tomahto." You roll your eyes again.

"Stop it would you!" He groans and packs up his takeout box and stands up frustrated and walks away.

"what! is this your way of saying you wanna kiss me!" you watch him walk away angrily.

----×----×----×----×----×----×----×----×----×----×----×----

you tilt the bottle of Gin more, adding more alchohol in your glass than you normally do. you take a sip from it and turn to all the kids from your college who were dancing, making out and grinding against each other while being drunk out of their minds.

maybe it was the amount of times you've chugged down glasses of tequila, vodka and Gin but you were starting to feel the hit a little. you walk over to the other living room and drop on the couch next to Yoongi as he passes you the joint he was smoking. you hold your glass on your lap while taking a puff from the joint and blow it out, repeating the process a few times until you start feeling the high.

the couch dips next to you and you look to see Jungkook sitting down next to you. he takes the joint from you and takes a few puffs and leans his head back against the backrest of the couch to feel the high coursing through his body better.

"hey." He says when he feels you leaning against his side and extends his arm over the backrest to let you get comfortable.

"hey." You take the joint from him and take another puff before taking a sip from your drink and passing the joint to Yoongi.

"and the love birds are back at it again." Taehyung says entering the room with Jimin. he goes and takes a seat next to Yoongi while Jimin walks upto both of you, sits on Jungkook's lap and leans in against you to whisper some things in your ear.

"You know, I heard our little Kookie moaning your name while jerking off last night after the fight between you two. maybe he's got a kink for hate-fucking. think about it." He says even tho he knew Jungkook was listening.

"shut up hyung. it's gross of you to listen in to what I'm doing in my room." he pushes Jimin away from you.

"you were being too loud even after i asked you to shut up." he looks back at him while turning to sit sideways on his lap, his legs now laying over yours and Jungkook's legs.

"this is too much TMI for me. i don't wanna know about anyone's sexual adventures. especially not of the people I hang out with on a daily basis." You take the joint from Yoongi and take a few puffs before passing it to Jungkook.

"Why? is it because you'd feel jealous you're a part of them only as an imagination and not in reality?" Jimin chuckles ask Jungkook snorts while passing him the joint.

"You're disgusting. you wish i'd wanna have sex with any three of you fuckers who always sweat like a heroine addict." You chug down the last sip of alchohol left in your glass.

"now now don't get all defensive, Y/n. we know how bad you want us." Taehyung pitches in and you flip him off before holding your glass out to him asking him to get you a refill.

he laughs softly and takes your glass before standing up and asking around the room if anyone else wanted a refill too and left the room with their glasses.

you guys continue drinking and smoking, cracking weird jokes that unnecessarily make you all laugh too hard due to how buzzed you guys were but noone cared.

as the night went on, some people left the party but a lot of them stayed and now you were left with Jungkook on the couch you curled up into his side while Jimin and Taehyung went out to busy finding themselves girls to have a different type of fun with.

"about what you said the other day.." Jungkook starts causing you to sigh and pull away to sit straight. "no. listen to me." he pulls you back against him.

"about what you said the other day, I was offended because you're really judging a book by its cover. that phrase is something you say all the time so why aren't you following up with it now?" he wraps his arm around your neck to keep you close.

"thats what literally every guy says, and you all turn out to be the same." You snort and start laughing.

"not with mee~" He whines softly. "give me a chance and you'll understand."

you raise an eyebrow and look at him only to realise he was being serious.

let's take chances tonight then.

[always-just-down-the-street]

Chat You Ever Just Think About Cutthroat Kitchen?

For reference, it is 1:04AM as I am beginning to write this, I have been like scrolling through my feed and I saw Cutthroat Kitchen get mentioned in a post called like- "Make Some Noise prompts that will never be on the show but I would like to see them", and I remembered Cutthroat Kitchen and by god I wanna just talk about it.

So, for those who don't know, Cutthroat Kitchen is a competitive cooking show, a term that either needs no introduction or will elicit reactions akin to either "Of course those fucking exist" or "What are you, 85?". The answer is "No", by the way, but my family for some reason loves cooking shows. Always my moms for some reason. But whereas shows like Chopped simply give you like- a set meal and maybe like a whammy ingredient to test your skills with, Cutthroat Kitchen is the funniest kind of bullshit that you can find on television.

It's hosted by Alton Brown, yes, Good Eats' Alton Brown, and the first thing he does at the beginning of every episode is give all four contestants $25,000- only the winner will get to keep what they have, all the other money goes right back into the briefcase. The twist is that unlike, say, Guy's Grocery Games where everyone gets a wacky game to play like "You can only use the frozen isle" or "You must only use six pounds of ingredients", not only are way more stupid and potentially game-destroying punishments on the table, they are for auction.

That's right, the big unique factor about Cutthroat Kitchen is that every round there are 2-3 punishments that you must use your $25,000 to bid on and then give to one or more of your opponents. This money does not refill between rounds, you only win what you don't bid away, and if your opponent has way more money than you do, they are obligated to abuse your poor planning skills! It's fucking awesome!

Here is just a list of actual punishments that people have bid on and subjected their fellow chefs to:

Giving up all of your ingredients and having to pick five new ingredients from a fully Japanese menu. The person punished did not speak Japanese.

Giving up your ingredients and being forced to get new ones from a vending machine.

Halfway through the challenge (Yes, they can happen halfway through a round and not just at the beginning), get chained to an anchor.

Being forced to spin a wheel to determine the only heat source you can use to cook your meal. Every fifteen minutes. Alton had to confirm it wasn't rigged to land on "microwave" because the poor fool got hit with it twice.

Being sent to a soundproof area. While your opponent is being told what they're supposed to be cooking. This was the final round of the episode too, so have fun risking everything on a blind meal!

Not being able to taste your own food while making it!

Being forced to choose to give up 15 whole minutes of your cooking time or use a whole, canned chicken.

All of your knives get replaced by a single ice skate.

You can only cook in two metal ramen bowls. This one also had a very comedic moment of what happened when the chef in question tried to cheat by using a normal pot for an egg when both of her bowls were already being used. Not pictured: Alton taking $500 from the chef immediately after.

You lose the ability to directly cook your meal, and instead must relay all instructions to "Private Bob". This one is extra funny because the chef in question, an army chef (This was an all-military service members episode) just leaned in entirely and began to shout with such zeal and power that it actually distracted the other chefs.

I could go all night telling you more punishments, it's now 1:41AM and I only wrote ten! (Partially because for some reason Wikipedia won't list them all.) And more fun facts- you're not allowed to tell the judge what punishments you got, nor will they care. On five separate occasions, a grown chef got stuck in a kiddie kitchen. That "whole canned chicken" is a recurring death sentence, to the point where that person I mentioned earlier happily gave up the 15 minutes to refuse using it. They only get 30 minutes.

If you have access to Cutthroat Kitchen, watch it. It is probably the funniest cooking show I've ever seen, it blows Guy's Grocery Games clear out the fucking water every time.

[super-hero-confessions]

Billy Butcher is a genuinely worse person than Homelander and this is plain to see when you actually read the comics.

Homelander actually feels disgusted with himself when he does bad things. And he only does them because he's been led to believe he was horrible without actually having done any of the shit he's blackmailed for in the photos and videos. Including what happened to Becky.

If it's not clear. It was Black Noir, a clone of Homelander, who put on his costume, did those terrible things and enjoyed them, and then took pictures and videos to frame Homelander. Noir was the one to rape Becky, but Homelander got the blame.

And the very few things we actually see Homelander do show us how much revulsion he feels from doing them, to the point where he throws up and has a visceral reaction, like he doesn't actually want to and isn't used to it. Asking himself "what have I done?".

That's far from a spoiler at this point, these comics have been out in full, for several years now. I'm not gonna pull punches or be dishonest about it like some people confessing weird out of context bullshit either.

In contrast.

Butcher kills all of his friends, excuse me. All of the people he used and lied to and made believe he was actually their friend, with no remorse or second thought. Or at least tries to.

Kimiko. Frenchie. MM. Even Vas (Love Sausage). All of them die by Billy's hands. For no other reason beyond.

"They're supes."

Despite the fact that this is after he discovered he was wrong about Homelander the whole fucking time.

Down to trying to kill MM's momma. Down to killing Janine's fucking mother in front of her so that she witnesses it. And then makes sure MM knows that for Billy, he "ain't got no mates".

Hughie is the only one to survive because after killing the others, Butcher threatens to kill Starlight and says he won't stop unless Hughie stops him.

There's no question here. Butcher was always the bigger monster. He just didn't have the power to be as bad as Homelander could be. Potentially.

Potentially. And that is a huge fucking key word.

Barring the fact that Homelander never actually met that potential or even wanted it. Noir was the actual monster, using Billy to confuse him into believing he had, so he would try. Just so the clone could swoop in kill him.

Imagine that.

And there are still people deranged enough to think there's any kind of contest on who's worse between Billy and Homelander?

Fuck's sake, this guy immediately kills a fucking premie baby instead of trying to pacify it because it's terrified out of its mind and has powers it can't control. With a lamp.

I love the show, I love the portrayals and the jobs done by the actors. I think it does a great job touching on the important topics and themes in the comics while connecting it to current events. I do hope it has a different ending. But one thing's clear.

While the characters are fundamentally the same at their cores. They made Billy softer and sweeter while they made Homelander harder and more ruthless in order to make the dynamic more mainstream and less controversial. Which is honestly a bit disappointing.

It also makes me a little worried because if they don't find a way to navigate that well, it may mean they've messed up the finish line before we could ever reach it. They could definitely go for something more comic accurate or even include Billy killing Ryan and just not caring anymore as per typical Butcher fashion, but given that they've already chickened out on some of the more intense stuff, I can't say it's high in the hopes factor.

And a happy ending doesn't exactly feel appropriate either.

But who knows, maybe the set up is there specifically to make everything hurt that much more in the end if or when Billy betrays everyone.

And this is coming from someone who is ecstatic to see Homelander go on a chaotic rampage of blood, death, and destruction. Bring it the fuck on you goddamn chaos cockteases.

But yeah, no. It's no contest. Billy is a far worse character than Homelander in the comics, and he has the potential to get a lot worse in the show. He's not there yet, but it's pretty clear he actively wants to be and it's grating him that he isn't yet.

Guess it'll be interesting to see if that comes to fruition or if there's even some crazy twist that shows us Homelander isn't as bad as people think.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

October 2024 Contest #2: Dark Web 2.0

Words: 6,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime CW: drug use, mild violence, some angst, swearing

Tallahassee, Fall ‘22

“You gotta pick up the Molly for Saturday’s party.” 

Lost in her homework, it takes a few seconds for Anna to register Hans’s request. She looks up from a dense scrawl of literature notes and spits out her pen. Clattering through a pyramid of adderall bottles. 

“What?” she snaps. Hans shrugs and takes another toke, adding to the cloud of Marijuana smoke in her dorm. Hoarse coughing ensues. The flamingo-shaped bong winds up in Anna’s hands. Peace-offering for the favour, perhaps. The thought singes her nerves but she inhales a massive hit anyway. Straight through the glass bird’s pink beak. It doesn’t calm her down. Chicken-shit weed. 

“Why me?” Anna spews smoke through her nostrils like Puff the Magic Dragon. Hans smiles and ruffles her hair. 

“Because I’ve got a scholarship.” 

“And I don’t?” 

Hans tips the flamingo at her, “Exactly!” 

“Let’s get this straight, Mr. Esteemed-Scholar - it’s totally fine if I get arrested and you don’t?” 

“C’mon,” Hans reclines in her bed, “hot chick buying drugs. No record. You’re getting a slap on the wrist at most.” 

Anna rolls her eyes, “You’re an asshole, you know that?” 

“And yet you love me-” 

“I don’t-” 

“Enough to smoke my weed, that is.” 

Anna freezes mid-rip. Her eyes roll back and she coughs violently. 

“Fine,” Anna sets the bong against a shelf full of mid-19th century English classics, “what, um, drugs do I need to buy? Or - how does one go about procuring said illegal substances?” 

Hans raises an eyebrow, “Haven’t you bought drugs before?” 

The thought jogs Anna’s memory through old Breaking Bad episodes at home on TV.Suitcases stuffed with cash. Duct-taped parcels of white powder. Cops. Guns. Her throat dries. She slouches into her chair. Vaguely recalls the last time she sat on the family couch with Elsa’s warm presence beside her. Giggling at Hank’s jokes. A simmering wave of hurt wells beneath her eyelids, but she clamps down the memory with numb indifference. Fucking weed’s messing with my head. 

“No.” 

“Get on the dark web,” Hans shoulders his backpack, “find a dealer off Silk Road. You’re a smart cookie-” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Sure thing, sweetie,” Hans pats her head again, like a puppy, “don’t let us down, champ. Party’s counting on you.” 

Anna scowls at the door slamming shut. She heaves a window open to let the smoke out; noon sun and fresh air lending some much-needed clarity. Dark Web. Silk Road. Exactly like Hans to know shady shit like this. What a chump. She boots her Macbook and downloads Tor Browser through the horrendously slow college wifi. Eyes widen in rabid curiosity at exactly what Silk Road entails. 

Drugs. 

Lots of drugs. Filling her entire screen. Anna looks over her shoulder, fearful of campus security waiting to bust down her door. Indexes of suppliers and pictures of powders and crystals. She fumbles around and filters out heroin, crystal meth, cocaine. Until only MDMA remains. Location: Tallahassee. 

One supplier shows up: Adderall-Molly-Oxy-Xanax-Valium - 323 area. College students welcome.

Her hands freeze on the chat window. Hasn’t Chris Hansen caught people like this? She ponders a DEA agent on the other end. Why don’t you take a seat over there? Getting hauled before a district judge. Breaking down in tears while she’s locked away in prison. Anna’s pigtails swish around and she shakes off the fear - just get it over with. A test looms next week. Maybe buy some Adderall while you’re at it. 

Anna swallows the last of her fears and messages IceQueento set up a score. 

***

It’s only ten minutes from Campus. Anna still manages to get lost in the winding dark suburban streets. Cursing herself for nearly driving into Lake Ellis Park instead of Lafayette Park. Despite her best intentions, she’s late. Only one other non-descript black Ford sits in the parking lot. Weird, she thinks. Looking at the car again and trying to place where she’s seen it before. Anna shrugs and dons a face mask. Pulling on a hoodie despite the sweltering humidity and wandering into the park. Streetlights spear the night air. A single, yellow beam broken by a shadow. Streams of cigarette smoke waft from the figure standing stock-still. Her skin crawls at how abnormal this feels. 

Ice creeps up her spine. She looks in the pitch-dark bushes, expecting police to swarm her any moment. Each step towards the shadowy figure feels like jogging a mile. The hundred-dollar bills in her hand are damp with sweat and she’s ready to vomit her thumping heart when the dealer notices her. He scarcely turns. The darkness beneath his black hoodie feels like staring into a void.  All the hairs on her arms stand on end. 

“So, um, drugs?” Anna whispers. Before mentally slapping her forehead. Idiot. Why else would someone stand alone in a park at 1 a.m.? 

Anna’s gaze drags the pavement. Afraid of looking into his eyes. Or the handcuffs inevitably going to lock around her wrists. But the deal happens faster than a drawn breath. A swipe of a palm. Twelve-hundred of Hans’s sponsored dollars gone. Two bottles of pills rattle into her slick hand. Great, phew, that was - easy. Cold metal grazes her skin when his hand draws away. She catches a flash of blue beneath the streetlight and immediately recognises a cerulean-blue Topaz ring on the dealer’s thumb. 

Wait. 

“Elsa?” 

Her voice stabs through the void, expecting to find light. The figure freezes and turns. Glaring, piercing blue eyes behind a facemask. Anna’s breath stops. She’d never forget those eyes in four years. She sure as hell wouldn’t forget how they made her feel. Her nerves splinter. She spews the first thing that comes to mind. A continuation of an unfinished sentence from an eternity ago. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Shh!” Elsa hisses, looking around, “You got your score. Now. Get. Lost.” 

Knees buckle. She barely hears the departing footsteps over the stampede in her ears. 

“Wait, wait, you can’t just go,” Anna cries, stumbling over her Converse sneakers. Flailing fingers catch hold of Elsa’s hoodie and she spins around. Livid rage flares in her eyes. A sudden shove robs Anna’s breath and she slams into the ground. Stars cross her eyes and fade into a gun’s cold barrel pointed at her forehead. 

At least she got the gun part right. 

“Don’t push your luck, missy.” 

Perspiration leaks down her face and she gulps at Elsa’s finger hovering over the trigger. Safety’s still on. She looks up at the glint of streetlights within the Topaz mounted on her thumb. Iridescent blue rays refract like the thousands of memories and unspoken thoughts she’s harboured towards her sister. Right before the hoodied figure turns and clomps into the darkness. The long-dormant sight of Elsa’s turned back shattering each one of those memories into a million jagged little pieces. 

***

Tallahassee, Summer ‘18

Elsa marches through the door. Sweat pours off her brows. Track practice’s killed her. She needs an ice-cold soda. A nap. Some TV and ice cream. Preferably in that order. But one look at Agnarr scurrying about the living room chattering on the phone tells her she’s not getting any of those things. 

A suitcase stands already packed by the doorway. 

“Seriously?” Elsa thrusts out her hands, “Again?” 

“Gotta be in Boston two hours ago,” Agnarr mumbles, before shooting her a glare, “oh yea, I promised Anna’s school I’d pick her up after detention. She fought with some kid again.” 

“Wait, what?” Elsa clutches her forehead as her mind frays, “How are you going to-” 

Car keys sail toward her face and she barely manages to snatch them mid-air. Agnarr brushes past, suitcase in tow. 

“Look alive, kid! Bring her straight home, no mucking about,” he points at her, dress shoes clicking down their manicured driveway. A cab’s already pulled up and ready to go. 

“You can’t expect me to cover your parental duties all the time y’know-” 

Agnarr stops in his tracks. For a moment, Elsa allows herself to hope. Hope that she wouldn’t have to handle Anna’s problems. See her face or feel the ache that comes from dealing with that red-headed girl. But he turns and laughs in her face. 

“As a matter of fact, I can,” he points at the Range Rover, “I paid for your driver’s education.” 

“Dad, stop.” 

The taxi door’s already open. Driver yelling at him to hurry the fuck up. He perches a foot inside and muses, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Right,” Elsa folds her arms, “because I’m the responsible one, yea?” 

“The eldest,” he sneers through the window, “hence, the most responsible by default. Come through for me, kid!” 

Squealing tires and a cloud of smoke drag a father from her life again. Elsa stands there in a daze. Wondering if Agnarr would tell the driver about his two daughters and how he’s stranding them for the dozenth time. She looks over at the neighbour’s overgrown lawn. Mr Macpherson back from a hospital night shift and shooting hoops with his son. Elsa sighs. But forces a half-hearted wave when he catches her staring for too long and wondering about a feeling she’s never felt before. 

She wanders back inside and shivers at their home’s vacant emptiness. Bone-cold despite the burning sun outside. The housekeeper would’ve left enough boxes of pasta in the freezer for a week. Her room’s probably packed so neatly she couldn’t find anything if she tried. Just as Elsa contemplates going back to school and studying in the library, she crosses over to Iduna’s picture on the mantel and lights a candle. Faltering eyes fixed upon her mother’s monochrome photograph; teary ache blossoming at a woman she’s never known. 

“Stop, just - stop,” Elsa seethes at herself. She wills herself to the bathroom and washes her face with ice-cold water. It doesn’t undo the knot of unspoken longing in her chest. But it does help keep her head down as she passes Anna’s room. “MORONS KEEP OUT” sign plastered on the door. 

Focus, chem homework. Elsa plods through chapters of Pharmacokinetics. “…rate of drug metabolisation in a patient’s bloodstream measured-” 

She yawns. Thoughts wander toward her sister. Vacant-minded stare out the window as she ponders how long it’d take to metabolise Anna out of her brain. Right as she tries to focus back on her notes again, the clock strikes three. She’s torn between leaving Anna to her own devices and continuing the homework. 

“…side effects: Euphoria, loss of motor control-” 

Fuck it. 

Elsa heads downstairs and tries to get the behemoth of a Range Rover to Anna’s school in one piece. It’s nothing, her reflection in the side mirror pales, you’re just picking your brat of a sister from detention. She looks at the other Private school students streaming from the glass-concrete compound and makes out Anna walking with her head down. Hands in her skirt pockets. Fjällräven bag dangles from her shoulders and prim red pigtails that make her look like the most precious person ever to grace her world. 

Anna spots the car and immediately walks in the other direction. A surge of annoyance wells within Elsa and she slams the door while getting out. 

“Hey,” Elsa catches up to her, “Hey!” 

She catches hold of Anna’s arm, only to get tugged away.

“Oh, it’s you,” Anna peeks over her shoulder, “Why’re you driving dad’s car?” 

Elsa sighs and tries to phrase an answer that won’t lead to Anna stomping off. 

“He’s in Boston for work,” Elsa crosses her arms, “and told me to get you after detention.” 

“Great,” Anna glares, “so now I’m stuck with you.” 

“What, you gonna beat me up too?” 

A glint of a smile appears on Anna’s lips. Rare and radiant like a ray of sunlight peeking through a hurricane. 

“I might,” Anna sneers, “if you piss me off as much as that fucking bitch during Lit class.” 

“Woah, the language on you, missy,” Elsa snarls, opening the car door, “you learn that in Literature?” 

“No,” Anna rests her knees on the dashboard, “just Shakespeare.” 

“Yea? I got a quote for you: ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce!’” Elsa sniggers. 

Anna smiles, “Twelfth Night!” 

Her sister’s beaming now. The afternoon sun falls across her face. Freckles sparse against glowing soft skin. Elsa’s chest clenches at the sight. God, that girl. It’s only a moment of weakness before she catches her eyes wandering to the smoothness of Anna’s thighs left bare from where her skirt had hitched up. 

Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you? The car behind honks. Her face burns. 

“Pay attention!” Anna chides, fiddling with the radio, “Are you going straight home, or what?” 

“Dad told me-” 

“Could we not?” Anna pleads with pouty, puppy eyes, “It’s the first day of summer, for fucks sake!” 

“Language!” 

“Let’s go to the mall,” Anna gestures at her feet, “my shoes got torn up and I need new ones.” 

“I’m not taking you to the mall, Anna,” Elsa retorts, “and you don’t have money anyway - Dad stopped-”

“I’ve still got money from working over Spring Break.” 

“You what?” 

Anna pauses, “You didn’t know I’d been working at Dairy Queen?” 

Silence stretches thin between them. Your sister had a job and you had no idea? What’d you been doing? Studying? Shutting out the whole world? She looks over at Anna, teal-blue eyes and that broken look on her face which always got her way. Or maybe you just didn’t want to feel weak beneath those eyes. 

“Ok, fine,” Elsa relents, “let’s get your damn shoes or whatever.” 

“Yay! You’re the fucking best!” Anna squeals. Before leaning over and planting a huge, wet kiss on Elsa’s cheek. 

Elsa nearly swerves into oncoming traffic. 

***

Despite Anna’s promises, she still takes her loving-sweet time to choose a pair of shoes. It ends up being another pair of Converse Chucks anyway. Elsa diligently studies lecture notes on her phone while waiting at H&M. Eyes widen when she notices Anna browsing a rack of bikinis. 

It’s summer. Elsa tells herself. 

She wonders if she’d get to see Anna in one. Or if someone else will. The imagination needles at her mind and she heaves in relief when Anna leaves empty-handed. The girl’s doe-eyed persistence doesn’t let up, however, and Anna promptly demands they stop by Baskin-Robbins for ice cream. As per summer traditions. 

Plain chocolate for Elsa. Berryfudge Cookie-Blast for Anna. She struggles to keep the overflowing cone in one piece. Even when Elsa scoops a spoonful to help.

“No stealing,” Anna snarks.

“Fine.”

Anna slathers her tongue upon the pink and blue monstrosity. An evident shudder slices through her nerves. 

“So what’s this I hear about you and that guy, Hans?” Elsa asks. Trying to keep the fantasies at bay.

“None of your business,” Anna pauses and relents, “ok, fine. He asked me out. We might both end up in FSU anyway.”

“And you agreed?”

“I went out with him once,” Anna looks away, sundae threatening to melt onto her fingers, “might go out with him again.” 

Elsa fights the stinging in her chest and maintains a stony expression, “That good, huh?”

Anna shrugs, “Hey, sometimes you gotta be sure.”

“First time I’ve seen you cautious about anything,” Elsa sneers.

Anna waves an ice cream-tipped spoon, “Things done well, and with a care-”

“-exempt themselves from fear, yes yes - Henry VIII.”

A huge grin breaks on Anna’s face, “You’re clever-er than I thought.” 

“-and you’re-” 

Words desert Elsa momentarily. Beautiful. Irresistible. Forbidden. A thunderclap echoes in her soul when they lock eyes. The epiphany shines through clouds of delusion; she’d avoided Anna for so long because it’d inevitably circle back to this self-loathing mess of attraction. The tugging in her chest stops long enough to notice Anna digging at her cone with a spoon. 

“Stop stealing my ice cream, missy,” Elsa complains, “you didn’t let me try yours.” 

The warning’s ignored as Anna takes a second scoop. 

“Stop! And you had to take two bites!” 

“Hey, sometimes you gotta be sure,” Anna licks chocolate off her lips. 

Mischief surges through Elsa and she leans forward to take a huge chomp out of Anna’s cone. A shrill-voiced squeal erupts and Anna lurches after Elsa’s. It’s messy. Two sisters fending the other off until creamy flecks litter the table. 

“Ok! I give up!” Elsa relents, she spots a white smear on Anna’s cheek and reaches over with a paper napkin, “Y-you’ve got crap on your face.” 

Their eyes meet. Elsa pauses midway, before moving closer and wiping it off. The tremble in her hand doesn’t go unnoticed. Neither is the blush spreading between Anna’s freckles. The girl crumples the napkin into a tiny ball and drops it to the floor. Her voice descends to a whisper. 

“So do you.” 

Every muscle in Elsa’s body freezes tight as her sister leans closer and licks the fudge off the corner of her lips. Her heart stops. What’s left of the cone plops onto the table. When her senses swim back, all she sees is Anna’s smile spreading across her perfect lil’ face. All she hears is pounding in her ears. And a stuttery voice leaving her lips. 

“D-did you get it all off?” 

Anna leans in again. Right before their lips touch - she hears those words. Undoubtedly haunting her dreams for years to come. 

“Sometimes, you gotta be sure.” 

***

DarkWeb messenger v2022

091622-0201hrs-RubyRose21: u pulled a gun on me???? 091622-0202hrs-RubyRose21: whr do u get off, gawd- 091622-0202hrs-RubyRose21: wht d fuk - did u chnge ur number??? 091622-0205hrs-IceQueen: Dispute not with her - she is lunatic. 091622-0206hrs-RubyRose21: RICHARD III??? WHAT **RubyRose21 blocked**

092422-1044hrs-Perkins36: howdy stranger. care to indulge an old man’s itch for LSD? I work at FSU 092422-1044hrs-IceQueen: no LSD. PCP/Shrooms. 20/tab 092422-1044hrs-Perkins36: Lets do 10. arts faculty entrance at 1am? I have to work late 092422-1045hrs-IceQueen: k

***

Tallahassee, Fall ‘22

Every one of their childhood memories jogs through Anna’s brain as she crouches behind a pillar. The darkness in her soul mirrors the pitch-dark faculty grounds. She bites her lip. Trying to conjure some misdeed or slight or annoyance that made Elsa abandon her like this. It’s useless - she knows exactly what she’s done. Merely avoiding the obvious in favour of deceiving herself that it’s her own fault things are ruined. 

It was perfect, Anna thinks, looking at the stars. One perfect, blissful summer before it all exploded like a supernova and left behind a dark void where her presence once lived. 

A car rumbles into the parking lot, headlights down. Her jaw clenches. Vengeful words sprout in her mind. Braided through that desperate longing to see Elsa one more time. 

The blonde figure approaches. Hands in her pockets. 

Anna’s breath knots tight in her chest and she emerges into the dark. Face held aloft to her sister. Elsa staggers back and scowls. 

“Fuck!” Elsa hisses, pointing at Anna, “I drove across town to pick up the stuff and it’s you-” 

“You blocked me?” Anna’s brows furrow, “What the hell’s wrong with you?” 

“We’re through,” Elsa turns and walks away, only to get yanked around. She reaches for her hip. 

“Brave enough to sell drugs on campus but too pussy to pack heat in a gun-free zone?” 

“Enough, Anna-” 

“You pulled a gun on your sister-” 

“Let go of me!” Elsa shoves her back. A visible crest of hurt spikes on Anna’s face at the word. Sister. At getting shut out for years. The violent alienation. Every hate-filled Facebook message and unanswered text and hours spent searching for the shadow of Elsa’s presence boils over into a single tear streaked upon her cheek. 

“I…I searched for you, for years,” Anna’s voice strains, “I thought you moved to South Carolina-” 

Elsa looks at the concrete, “Why? What do you want from me?” 

Anna’s mouth opens to answer, but she’s already walking off into the darkness. 

“I want you back, ok?” Anna stumbles after her, “We’re supposed to be sisters! This isn’t normal-” 

Elsa whirls around and jabs a finger, “It isn’t!” 

The glimmering fury staring back halts the rest of her rant. Her heart cracks a little more when she sees her unadorned fingers. No ring. 

“Don’t you get it?” A tear glistens from Elsa’s eyes, “It’s not normal - this thing between us. I’m not normal. That’s why I left.” 

Anna looks down at the fist bunched around her shirt. Palpable hesitation in those slender fingers before she slowly lets go. All at once she feels like falling into a darkness. And already she wishes she’d never stepped foot into the dark web. Only to find hurt and heartbreak waiting within its dark recesses. Spreading through her chest with each step Elsa runs away from her. 

***

Tallahassee, Summer ‘18

Elsa lets out a shrill-voiced scream as she’s plunged into darkness. Her heart lurches. Whiteness floods her vision and she’s left gasping with scarcely a breath left in her lungs. The rollercoaster levels out but her head feels numb. Beside her, Anna’s sneering - not letting up until they come to a complete stop. 

“You were screaming,” Anna mocks. 

“Oh god, I-I,” Elsa gasps, knees buckle as she exits the ride, “my throat is hoarse-” 

“Hah!” Anna giggles, throwing her arms around Elsa, “That was hella fun!” 

“I only did it because you asked me to-” 

“Thank you, sport,” Anna walks ahead through the crowd. Frayed denim shorts hug her hips tight. She’s happy. Elsa thinks. That’s all you want for her. Her eyes rove Anna’s thin waist. Bare strip of skin exposed between her shorts and tank top. Her sister’s strawberry scent still lingers from the hug. When Anna looks back and smiles, her heart’s ready to explode. 

“Waddya wanna do next?” 

Perspiration dribbles down Elsa’s temple. Her heart throbs. She doesn’t know if it’s the rollercoaster. Unease further thrums when her phone pings with Kristoff’s notification. She scowls and mashes a reply before Anna can notice. 

DarkWeb messenger v2018

070118-1422hrs-ZZRudolphZZ: 4th July thing coming - any chance we could score more of that Molly shit? 070118-1445hrs-IceQueen: talk later. with my sister.

“Ice cream,” Elsa suggests, but she points at the darkened clouds, “looks like it’s gonna rain though.”

“Is this your way of getting another kiss out of me?”

Elsa’s face reddens, “What? That was not a kiss.” 

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” 

Anna’s half-smirk shoots straight through her gut. She’s your sister. Temptation stirs in a pool of warmth. She could be wanting it as much as you.

Stop, Elsa clenches her jaw, you’re a sick freak. 

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Elsa feels the first drops of rain on her fingertips, “housekeeper stocked Häagen-Dazs for us.”

Anna gasps, “Chocolate?” 

“Brownie Ganache.” 

“Yes!” Anna squeals, hugging Elsa tight again. And as she squeezes Anna’s slim figure back, feels that coil of warmth within herself latching onto her soul. Rapidly losing its battle against her sister’s forbidden charms. 

***

The deluge fails to drown out Anna’s singing in the car. Bopping along to Rihanna on the radio. Back home, she heads straight to the freezer and retrieves a pint while Elsa tries to remember where they left off on Breaking Bad last night. It’s impossible to concentrate on the show. Taste of chocolate in her mouth. Anna’s legs propped on a coffee table, tanned and soft beneath the living room lights. She looks over at her sister more than once, spoon perched on her lips. Trying not to imagine Anna tasting like Brownie Ganache. 

They make it to the season finale. Credits roll. The storm’s still relentless outside and there’s another one brewing inside Elsa when her sister shifts closer on the couch. 

“I bought something for you.” 

Crumpled packaging parchment sits on Anna’s hand. She finds a glittering Topaz ring set in gold nestled within. 

“It matches your eyes.” 

A ring. Your sister bought you jewellery. Elsa strains to breathe, “This looks really expensive.” 

Anna shrugs, “Dairy Queen paid well, not gonna lie-” 

“But why?” Elsa turns the ring over in her hands, “My birthday’s not until Christmas.” 

“I wanted to thank you,” Anna bites her lip, “for spending summer with me.” 

A well of affection builds in Elsa and threatens to burst. She wants to hug her. Kiss her. Shed that tear on the verge of escaping. All she manages is a terse sputter, “I love you, Anna. You’re my sister - of course I’d look after you.” 

Her lungs clam up when Anna reaches and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Self-control crumbles. Elsa leans closer and presses a kiss to Anna’s cheek. When her eyes open again, the girl reacts like she’s just been shot. Touching that blooming spot of red. You went too far. Anna’s scowl bears down on her. She’s never talking to you again. 

“Sorry, w-was that too much?” Elsa asks. 

The girl softens. Words tug at her lips to be set free, like that dance they’ve teetered around each other all summer. 

“No,” Anna whispers, shifting closer, “in fact - it’s not enough.” 

Her pulse seizes. Foggy gaze centres on Anna’s half-lidded eyes. Lips separated by a held breath. Beneath the forlorn scream of her conscience, Elsa finds enough lucidity to whisper. 

“There’s no going back from this, y’know?” 

“I can’t go back,” Anna’s smile curls against her own, “not from someone like you.” 

Their lips touch. A graze. A flicker. Tentative. Like tasting each other for the first time and not knowing if it be poison or honey they partake. Right before Anna crushes her lips into Elsa’s and pitches her world upside down. A spoon clatters. Hungry hands paw at her shirt. Her soul plummets through a chasm of sin, but all she wants is to pull Anna right into its depths. Together. 

“Why?” Elsa sputters between shallow breaths. 

“Because - she had eyes, and chose,” Anna trails kisses down Elsa’s neck, “Oth-” 

“Othello, yes,” Elsa clasps her sister’s head, staring into lust-soaked pools of blue, “we shouldn’t be doing this. Y’know?” 

“No, we shouldn’t,” Anna bites her lips, before kissing her again, “but I’m choosing to. And I’m choosing you.” 

Electricity bursts through her core as Anna hitches a thigh upwards. She hears a moan somewhere. Echoing above the pattering rain. 

Shouldn’t. 

Her heart plunges into a pool of feelings she shouldn’t be feeling. Mouths whisper words they shouldn’t be saying to each other. Lips and fingers going places they shouldn’t be going. 

“Oh my god,” Anna seethes. Arching into her sister’s touch. 

God. 

Elsa screws her eyes shut and sees Him. Only meaning to ask why something so wrong could feel so right. 

***

DarkWeb messenger v2022

092722-2031hrs-JessRabbit: i want crack. Sell it to me. 092722-2031hrs-IceQueen: no crack. read the ad. 092722-2032hrs-JessRabbit: addys den. $500 092722-2145hrs-JessRabbit: HELLO??? 092722-2146hrs-IceQueen: God has given you one face, and you make yourself another. 092722-2147hrs-JessRabbit: Othello. FUCK 092722-2148hrs-IceQueen: you’re not gonna stop, are you 092722-2149hrs-JessRabbit: I want answers 092722-2149hrs-IceQueen: I am not bound to please thee with my answers 092722-2151hrs-JessRabbit: MACBETH? 092722-2151hrs-IceQueen: Merchant of Venice 092722-2151hrs-IceQueen: you’re getting sloppy. im at Hedon on Fridays **JessRabbit blocked**

***

Tallahassee, Fall ‘18

The night sky lights with an occasional flash of lightning and the cold glow of her former home. Within her water-logged eyes, Elsa can’t tell where rain begins and where tears end. It’s not going to end. She looks up at Agnarr’s unmoving shadow on the second floor. Cursing beneath the rumbling thunder as she loads the last suitcase into her new Ford. 

No, she thinks, looking back at the ghost of a house, this is how it ends. 

The rainwater’s pooling in the driveway now. She imagines pieces of her broken heart washing into the drain. Maybe she’ll find them again in South Carolina. Or in a ditch somewhere. Thunder claps through her ears. Dad’s heated words still booming loud within them. She flinches at the door opening. Shit, I swore she was engrossed in a new episode. 

“No!” Elsa screams at Anna, running into the rain, “It’s pouring!” 

“What are you-” Anna peers into the car, “Are you leaving?” 

Elsa wipes rainwater from her eyes. All it does is burn the clarity of Anna’s shattered expression into her memory. 

“I’m going, Anna-” 

“Why?” Anna yells. Hair sticks to her face. Hands outstretched, trembling. Agnarr’s folded arms behind the balcony. Coward. Come down here and look what you’ve done. 

“I-I’ve kept things from you,” Elsa tries to make herself heard over the rain; impossible with how broken her voice is, “I’ve sold drugs from home a-and…dad found out.” 

“What?” Anna shrieks, “You expect me to believe that horseshit?” 

Anna steps closer, only for Elsa to hold out a hand. Fist clenches around her soaking wet shirt. A slight glance at Agnarr, still unmoving. 

“D-don’t make this harder for me,” Elsa’s lips sputter with rain and tears, “Or yourself.” 

“W-was this about what happened between us?” 

She looks straight through blurry eyes into the recesses of Anna’s heart. Sees only purity. But instead of affection, she feels the unbearable burden of knowing she’d never, in a million lifetimes - deserve her sister’s love. Agnarr’s still staring at them. Fuck him. 

“Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love,” Elsa whispers. Pulling Anna into a kiss laced with the bittersweet brevity of their love affair. You chose this. You knew it’d end up like this and you chose it. Salt mixes with rain. It doesn’t matter. If she had to do it all over again, she would’ve chosen Anna a million times out of a million. 

“Hamlet,” Anna whispers back.  

Elsa lets go of her sister. Driving away with nothing set in the GPS. Before she turns the corner from the suburban street where she grew up, looks back one last time and sees the shadow of Anna’s figure kneeling in the driveway. Head in her hands and sobbing in the pouring rain. 

***

Tallahassee, Fall ‘22

Anna pulls up to Club Hedon and realises she should’ve read the Google reviews. Or a dictionary. Hedon. Hedonistic. Friday-night revellers dressed like it’s Halloween on crack. Rampant display of flesh and latex and skintight leather. She watches a bare-chested man walk past her car in a gas mask, nipple clamps flopping in the humid night air. Fuckin’ hell - is this Elsa’s new scene? She digs through her memories. Blonde hair perpetually buried in her books. Now selling drugs to college students and hanging out with folk who look like they belong in an S&M dungeon. Or perhaps this was one. 

Three realisations hit her as she crosses the parking lot. She drove. She left her fake ID in dorm. She’s wearing a college t-shirt and skinny jeans. 

She might as well be a goth at a nursing home. Standing in line with blackclad partygoers plastered in pasty-white makeup. Her head swims at the red-velvet wallpaper. Broken neon lights and the faint thump of rave music behind the door. The queue moves quickly. She quakes in her sneakers before the hulking mass of a bouncer. The skinhead takes one look at Anna and goes red-faced with restrained laughter. He waves her in. 

It’s smoky. It’s loud. Red-and-green lasers lace between raptured arms like an unholy Evangelical church service. Muscle-bound men cavort with ladies dressed in corsets and fishnets and sky-high boots. Her throat goes dry. Chest clenching hard when she spots Elsa staring from across the bar. No more running away. No shadowy ambushes. Just a leather biker’s jacket and that effortless blonde braid she’s dreamt of a million times. 

A shot of vodka sits ready when she approaches. Those eyes. Sultry. Possessive. Shattered with regret. She dives within them, searching for hope. Comes up empty. But finds it in the Topaz ring on her thumb. Anna downs the vodka and stares her sister in the face. 

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” 

“Tempest,” Elsa smiles, “not your scene then.” 

“And it’s yours?” Anna quirks an eyebrow. 

“I’m here for work,” Elsa looks away, “drugs don’t sell themselves.” 

Vodka swirls in her head and she clutches the bar. Words tangle in her throat. She could run away again. Disappear like a ghost in the night, leaving her clutching at a shadow destined to forever elude her. Anna struggles to piece together a sentence. 

“Did you really get kicked out because Dad caught you selling dope?” 

Elsa looks down and fiddles with her ring. 

“No,” Elsa locks eyes with her, “I left because he caught us.” 

Her chest implodes. The music pounds in her ears. 

“Why on earth didn’t you say so?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Elsa’s fist quakes around the vodka, “call Dad a bastard but he was right - this would’ve been way more damaging if neither of us knew how to deal with it and just let it go on.” 

“And you just left?” Anna rifles her hair, “Without saying anything?” 

“I removed myself,” Elsa shoots back, “a-all I meant to do was give you a chance to be normal. We couldn’t have done that so close together-” 

“Yea, right. Normal.” Anna steps closer and closes a hand upon Elsa’s. The bar’s sticky. Sweat leaks down her collar. “Look where normal brought us. Right back to each other.” 

Elsa squeezes her hand back, “I-I’m not normal, Anna. This thing I felt towards you. I’ve tried so long to treat you like a normal sister - and I just couldn’t-” 

A fingertip on Elsa’s lips cuts her off. Cold and sharp like her words. Rife desire flares within her eyes in time with the flickering laser lights. 

“If you can’t be normal towards me,” Anna breathes a vodka-laced wisp on her lips, “then be abnormal.” 

“-abnormal?”

“Hurt me, use me, abuse me,” Anna’s unwavering stare captures Elsa in a trance, “you’ve already messed me up so bad by leaving. I wouldn’t mind a bit more pain-”

“Anna-”

“-as long it comes from you. As long I get to have you in my life.”

Darkness floods Elsa’s eyes.

A tug on her wrist pulls Anna towards the dancefloor. Bodies bump around like she’s buffeted in a stormy, black sea. Guided by an icy-white braid leading through the chaos. Arms close around her waist. Amidst the dense press of flesh and leather she can’t tell where her hips end and where Elsa’s begin. A warmth spreads up her neck as Elsa kisses between each freckle. Terse whisper in the noise somehow audible like she’s speaking straight to her heart. 

“You’ve no idea just how abnormal I can get with you.” 

Anna shudders beneath Elsa’s touch. Her chest stirs. That perverse hunger she’s forgotten bares its ugly fangs. The abnormal part of herself so easily hidden behind the facade of college, literature, Hans. All the normal she’s meant to do in life. Save for the one person who truly made her feel normal. 

Entangled in Elsa’s limbs. Ensared within a dark web of sin. Hips and breasts flushed like that summer afternoon on the couch - feels as natural and normal as breathing itself. 

A hand snakes around Elsa’s neck; eternal blue eyes melt her last resolve. She drags Elsa deep and kisses her with four years of desperate longing from the shadows. Pulling away to gasp for air, Anna awakens on the altar of unbridled surrender to Elsa’s lips. Her name whispered like the thrumming hymn in her heart. Instead of a sacrament, she tastes cigarettes and vodka. Instead of penance, she offers guilt and lust. In place of salvation, Anna darkens her soul with sin. Burying her conscience with each kiss Elsa peppers on her skin. Her lungs enrapture with worshipful piety. Straining to breathe in the holy temple of Elsa’s vanilla scent. 

One more verse flutters through her mind. 

“You have witchcraft in your lips,” Anna breathes against her sister’s neck. 

Elsa’s eyes widen. She ponders for a moment while their fingers interlace.  

“As you from crimes would pardoned be,” her words a mere humming breath against the heartbeat in Anna’s neck, “let your indulgence set me free.”