#just learned about sid’s eating habits

[stillfertile]

I have to eat... Nhl superstar Sidney Crosby wiuld be proud of me

[astralglam]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. What does your muse smell like?

without soap or perfume, 683 smells bizarrely sterile, chemical-ish, like a dentist’s office, bleach or cleaning supplies.  like hand sanitizer that kills 99.9% of germs.  they have that faint smell of powdery clean cosmetics, only because they wear so much foundation, face powder and setting spray.  humans like things that smell less artificial, so 683 takes to using cheap perfume (think a teenager who just learned to douse themselves with axe or bath and bodyworks spray), which is artificial in a slightly more palatable way.  their clothes (which are almost all second hand) have that mothball-musty smell of a thrifted dress that hasn’t been washed yet, like an old book.    

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

cold, frigid and icy, almost like a mannequin’s if you left the mannequin in the freezer. their skin is tight over their tendons and fingers, with almost waxy, plasticy skin stretched over their joints and knuckles, which makes them seem very fragile.  sometimes their palms are uncannily clammy.  their skin on their palms isn’t rough or calloused but they’re starting to get scars on their fingertips from their voyages into the realm of string instruments.  they used to have very neat, clean and unpainted nails, but nowadays, they have divots and cracks because 683 is clumsy with the strings.  

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

683 is often at the mercy of when their friends will decide to cook for them/buy them food.  they don’t have any cooking skills and can barely wash and cut an apple (this isn’t because they’re stupid, on atomina they were used to communal dining with a designated set of people who cooked for everyone in their unit).  683 is naturally accustomed to eating plant matter and (unlike us humans) has a way better digestive system for breaking down cellulose and gets a lot more out of their vegetarian diet than you might expect (two stomachs aint for nothin).  left to their own devices they just eat Whatever (orange? handfuls of spinach, unwashed, pesticides dont hurt them.  microwave a tomato and watch it explode.  brave cutting open an avocado and just eating it with a spoon).  dinner is when priscilla either buys him take out or sid cooks something for him (and sid is an amazing cook!!!).  sid isn’t vegetarian, but his family is, so he knows how to make all kinds of dishes perfect for 683 -- substitute the dairy for nondiary alternatives and 683′s getting matter paneer (with tofu instead), malai kofta (with coconut milk), and aloo gobi (no butter), all sorts of things !!! 

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

sort of.  683′s voice, by itself, is nasally and weird and a little grating, but their devotion to music lets them make the most out of their “strange” voice and almost use it to their benefit to sound unique, different, super far out !11!11111  their lyrics, instrumentals and emotion combined is what makes them a talented musician rather than just a good quality voice.  so while they might not have a very pretty voice, they’re still a skilled singer due to their delivery.  

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

im assuming this is about bad (physical) habits rather than personality deficiencies (of which 683 has many).  683 stares, like, really just stares at people with reckless abandon, they havent figured out it’s rude.  they arent good at even pretending to listen so if they’re disinterested in what you have to say, they’ll look elsewhere, pick at their nails, mumble or interrupt you.  always finds a way to make the conversation about themself.  very disorganized and messy, has a hard time taking care of objects even if they value them (ex. dropping his guitar, misplacing jewelry, yanking a belt off and breaking it).  definitely self pities and has no problem trying to guilt you for everything and anything.  is a pretty frequent smoker, but is polite enough not to smoke if you ask him not to.  

683 is always a little nervous so their nervous ticks are just their baseline state of being (wringing hands, stammering, talking really fast, making insane gestures all around you but being too afraid to touch you, etc)

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

683 looks very put together at all times -- not necessarily polished or professional, but very intentional, in that you can tell they definitely made a conscious choice to dress the way they do.  he wore the same dumb uniform every day for the first 20 years of his life, so he’s very excited to try new clothing options.  

more femme-ish clothing preferences go to boxy, sleeveless a-line dresses, miniskirts, bright floral patterns, big plastic earrings, headbands, scarves, etc.  they like clunky platforms and prefer to wear boots.  very 60s mod and colorblocked.  she loves bright eyeshadow but tends to go for more neutral lipstick.  can never figure out what to do with her hair so she usually leaves it down or does a half-up half-down bun kinda deal.  

more masc clothing preferences are bell bottoms, button ups with butterfly collars, paisley print, turtlenecks and fringe jackets, etc. earthy tones and weird nasty olive green.  very late 60s / early 70s. prog rock flavor or glam rock flavor.  never got into the disco style only because he cant pull it off because he’s so scrawny and twitchy and has no chest hair to impress the ladies.    

one thing about 683 is that he hates tight long sleeves and goes insane if he has to wear them.  his uniform was sleeveless, so even short sleeves feel really weird and horrible on his arms.  prefers sleeveless, can do with short sleeves, 3/4ths sleeve or loose long sleeve, really tries to avoid tight/constricting long sleeves.  

i have a pinterest board of potential fits for him although i havent updated it because i barely know how to use pinterest.

7. Is your muse affectionate?  How much?  How so?

to most people, not really, he’s kind of a weird cagey asshole.  oscillates between fascinated with physical touch (suddenly wanting to hug his friends or snuggle with them or grabbing strangers when he’s trying to talk to them) to despising contact (cringes if you touch his hand when you pass him a cup).  he didnt grown up with a culture very big on it, so he isn’t sure if he likes it or not yet.  

to people he does care about, he tends to take his friends for granted but overperform affection for those he has romantic interest in.  not that he doesnt also dearly love and adore his friends, he’s just not the best at expressing his care for them other than random bursts of kindness and dissolving back into his weird normal self.  his understanding of romance has come from a very commercial, media-influenced place (he learns about it through television, novels and commercials, it’s not really inherent to his species) so he thinks romance is about buying flowers, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes for three hours, etc. if he has romantic interest in you, he will constantly over and over again tell you how much he likes you and your company and you are soooo funny hahahhahhfhh, and will be unusually touchy (clings to your arm, sits RIGHT next to you, drops his head on your shoulder, etc).  

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

683 didnt know what blankets were until he came to earth (or deep space nine) !!! his old room was perfectly temperature controlled and he already has a lower natural body temperature, so there was no need for blankets at all.  human beds with big pillows and blankets are THE COOLEST, so he either curls up underneath a blanket with only the top of his head poking out or he sprawls out like a starfish to take advantage of as many pillows as possible.  his special move is to roll up in the blanket like some kind of little alien lumpia.  

he’s a fitful sleeper so if you sleep in the same bed as him, he’ll punch you or kick you on accident.  he does appreciate company, though, and will also plaster himself up against you and leech your body heat with his weird cold body.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

depends.  they have a very average speaking voice and aren’t necessarily very loud (plus platforms dull footsteps), but if they were excited, they might raise their voice or yell or exclaim something.  and then they’re very shrill, so yes, you would hear her.  

Tagged by:  @sampati im sorry i took like a week it was really fun i love to type letters and words on the computer Tagging: @dynaura or @pataparty (for whoever you want) / @phantombs / @ofgentleresolve (for lamon? or anyone you want, really!!) / @bystcrdust / @kyrieleisen / @baelends / @bup1957

[forlornmelody]

Video Game Questionate

Tagged by @joufancyhuh

Tagging: @sunnydae and @nym7, if you want to play. 

You’ll discover real quick here that I have not played many games. I like what I like XD

-Games-

First game you ever played: Pirates of the Caribbean online? I burned through the free version in a couple days and then my friend bought me Sid Meier’s Pirates. 

Favorite game: Either ME2 or ME3. I just love how the second upends the optimism of the first game and shows you the dark underbelly of the galaxy. And I always love me a good lazarus story. And the raw emotion of the world ending in 3. And how it ties together so many threads of previous games (though sometimes it gets a little weird.)

Game you hated at first but now love: Can I say ME1? It was a steep learning curve getting through that game the first time. I nearly rage quit SO many times fighting that Krogan battlemaster on Therum. 

Game you used to love but now hate: I spend a lot of time in Skyrim. Hundreds of hours. But I don’t see myself going back. No matter how many times it gets remastered/rereleased. 

Game with the best group/companion(s): ME2. They sound like the literal worst of the galaxy, but then you get to know them all and realize they must be protected at all costs. God, even Zaeed won me over in the end.

A game with your favorite ending: ME3, destroy ending specifically. There’s something about Shepard shooting a wannabe god with a pistol. The anger on their face. Their resolve. The ensuing explosion. Everything that happens after I would have written differently, though, tbh. 

A game with the WORST ending: ....this might be an unpopular opinion, but I really hate how DA2 ends. It kind of feels like the main events of that game happen no matter what you do? I was kind of hoping to see a less violent side to the mages, especially since they seem queer coded to me. It feels like Bioware was trying too hard to justify the Chantry’s behavior. (Yes I’m aware that it sounds like Anders wrote this. xD)

Best character customization?: Of the one’s I’ve played? Mass Effect Andromeda. Though I feel like Femryder has better options than Maleryder.

-Hero and Companions-

Your favorite playable character:  Shepard << hands down. Though being gay in Ancient Greece as Kassandra was a ton of fun too.

The funniest playable character: Hawke

Your favorite companion(s): (in no particular order) Kaidan, Peebee, Aria (it was just a DLC, but STILL), James Vega, Grunt, Jack, Anders, Isabella, Zevran, Merill, Morrigan, Ikarous, Legion

Companions you could live without: Oghren.  Cora Harper. Liam Kosta. Wynne. Liara T’Soni. Leliana. 

-Relationships-

Favorite game friendship(s): Vega & Cortez, Tali and Legion (as late as it was), Joker & EDI (hey it was total enemies -> friends -> lovers over the course of the game), Merill & Isabella, Hawke & Varric, Shepard & Joker

Favorite companion banter:  “You would be one to like grizzly bears, Mr. Vega!” “Heh, heh...huh?”

A relationship you loved but went bad: Alistair/Warden, Femshep/Vega (in game only. I don’t mind the fix it fics)

A relationship you weren’t sure of but loved: Zevran/Warden

A character you wish you COULD romance: *deep breath*  Sloane Kelly. Jeff “Joker” Moreau, Kasumi Goto. Miranda Lawson (as Femshep). Ashley Williams (as Femshep). Jack (as Femshep), Aria T’loak (actual romance please), Morrigan (as a female Warden), Tali (as Femshep), Gianna Parasini. Honorable (or dishonorable??) mention to Brynjolf of Skryim Thieves Guild. 

A minor character you wish could be a companion:  I really can’t think of any? Unless we’re counting Clone Shep. :P Oo! Nyreen Kandros. 

-Fun-

Shoutout to a random NPC: That Salarian construction worker you find on his break during the Citadel DLC. May I have that much chill when meeting Commander Shepard. Rolan Quarn. 

A game you love watching playthroughs for and want to play: None. I hate watching playthroughs and only do it when I need dialogue for a specific scene. ^^This!

Love watching playthroughs but won’t ever play: see above <-

Online gaming or solo?: I may have got my start in online gaming, but I prefer solo. The only exception seems to be playing Among Us with friends.

Why do you play video games?: To be honest, I started playing games regularly because the hormone regulator I take (spironolactone) makes me kind of light headed sometimes. And when I first started taking it, my dermatologist gave me a much stronger dose than I needed. I was basically useless for two hours a day. I take a more reasonable dose now, but the habit remains. Eat lunch, take meds, and play games for two hours when I can. Now it’s more of a self-care thing. I find video games help me cope with PTSD. Combat situations that I can beat without too much challenge relieves that fight instinct my reptile brain is always trying to activate. Puzzle games like sudoku and mahjong (the matching game, not so much the original strategy game) help me with freeze responses. 

[revchainsaw]

Buffy: the Vampire Slayer (1997)

Season 1

Hello and Welcome back my creepy congregation! We will be taking todays service from the Big Screen into your living room for our first Personal Devotional. That's Right! We're reviewing full seasons of television series now and what better way to bring the spirit of the genre film to the idiots lantern that with the 90s Television sensation and all around love letter to the horror genre, Buffy the Vampire Slayer!

The Message

Regardless of how one may feel about Mr. Whedon we can't deny how much we love Buffy Summers and the Kids who live and die in Sunnydale! Season one of Buffy was a spin off/reboot of the earlier film and an attempt by Whedon to course correct the franchise by breathing a little charm and attention into the subject matter.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Season 1) focuses on Buffy Summers, a not so typical California high school student who, due to the events of the movie, has been relocated to Sunnydale High. Buffy is not just a cute, athletic, teenage girl looking to enjoy the prime of her life, though she is those things, she is also the Slayer, an anointed warrior who has been reincarnated throughout the generations to protect our vulnerable weak human world from the forces of evil; particularly Vampires. Buffy is a sort of supernatural Captain America, that is a peak human being, but instead of Nazi Science she was born with her powers.

Joining Buffy are; High School outcasts Willow and Xander (a nerd and a nice guy respectively), The ridiculously sexy librarian Rupert Giles (her mentor, guardian, high school librarian, and all around precious papa bear), Jenny Calendar (a technopagan computer teacher armed with all the mystery an ignorant 90s boomer could attribute to the internet), Angel (Spoiler: He's a Vampire, but he's a good guy. A hunky, broody, good guy vampire love interest), and her loving but entirely oblivious mother. The Scoobies as they have come to be called aid Buffy in her quest to protect Sunnydale from Dark Forces.

And Speaking of those Dark Forces, they are primarily vampires, led by the Master; an ancient vampire who resembles to some degree Nosferatu and a Bat, a look that Guillermo Del Toro would later perfect in his own series the Strain. The Master seeks to fulfill an ancient prophecy that would open the Hellmouth (a portal to hell, exactly what it sounds like) and free him in order that he and his kind should conquer the world.

The first season is fairly short consisting of the following adventures.

1. Welcome to the Hellmouth - Buffy moves to Sunnydale seeking to leave her Vampire ways behind, but the vampires just won't let her catch a break.

2. The Harvest - Vampire Shenanigans continues. Buffy learns of the Master.

3. Witch - A fellow Cheerleader is possessed by her witchy mom.

4. Teachers Pet - Buffy vs Giant Mantis

5. Never Kill a Boy on the First Date - Buffy vs the Anointed One (Not Really)

6. The Pack - Buffy vs Hyena Possessed High School Bullies

7. Angel - Buffy vs Angel but actually Darla

8. I, Robot ... you, Jane - Buffy vs Internet Demon

9. The Puppet Show - Buffy and Sid the Dummy vs Organ Harvesting Demon

10. Nightmares - Buffy has bad dreams

11. Out of Mind, Out of Sight - Buffy vs Invisible Nerd

12. Prophecy Girl - Buffy vs The Master (also Buffy Dies)

Overall the short season, while not allowing for too much world building, kept the show to a format that allowed very little filler. So although we mostly only get vampires as villains, we don't have enough time to really be bored of it. Some of the shows dynamics and cultural concerns definitely date the series but overall Season 1 of Buffy is definitely not a difficult watch, and can be enjoyed over and over again.

Let's get to the Benediction:

Best Character: Slay Girl, Slay!

As far as season one goes the titular Buffy Summers is the best character. Sarah Michelle Gellar is absolutely charismatic in the lead role and though at times she may seem selfish or reckless it makes perfect sense for the character. The character is allowed to be weak, to be selfish, and to be unlikeable. She avoids the foibles of a Luke Skywalker or a Harry Potter. She joins the ranks of primary protagonists who are not constantly outshined by their supporting cast. I believe when Buffy is sad, I believe when she throws a punch, I believe she struggles with her destiny. The only thing I don't believe is how ditsy she let's on.

Best Actor: Head's Up!

Anthony Stewart Head. Head as Giles is just fantastic. His balance of frustration with Buffy and genuinely parental concern is heartwarming and absolutely makes Giles one of the warmest father figures in television history.

Best Episode: A 'Master'ful Finale

It all builds up to Prophecy Girl and for good reason. Television shows often have mini-finale's at the end of their first seasons because the teams behind the series are not sure they will have a chance to tell more of their story. For that reason you can see just the first season of most television series and feel like you've heard the whole deal. I wish this habit was kept up in other seasons as we wouldn't still be wondering what the hell happened to Joel at the end of the Santa Clarita Diet. Buffy is no exception to this phenomenon and therefor attempted to tie up much of it's narrative in Prophecy Girl. While that often means big bads will be dispatched, I think it's a small price to pay for not winding up in a cliff hanger. Buffy and Giles just shine in this episode, Angel is given a more heroic role, Willow finally values herself as she should and Xander stops being a fucking horrible human being for once. This episode really satisfies in all areas.

Best Villain: Sweet, Sweetheart Killer

It's such a shame that Darla was killed so early on in the franchise. She is such a great presence on the screen that she overshadows all the villains that play alongside her, even the Master. I would have loved to have seen an alternate season where she offs the old coot and assumes the role of big bad much like Spike does in Season 2. Lucky for everyone that Darla is featured throughout the show in flashbacks and I hear she is even resurrected in Angel. Also, for Scott Pilgrim fans I feel like she and Envy Adams are very much sympatico. Maybe if they reboot Buffy all my dreams will come true.

I'd also like to take this time to recommend the song Angels and Darlas by Say Hi! It's pretty good.

Best Monster Design: Internet Troll!

While I can't speak for where the money in Season 1 of Buffy went, I can say that at least some decent cash was spent on both the forms of Moloch the Corruptor from the Episode "I, Robot ... You, Jane". Moloch was pretty wicked looking as a machine toward the end of the episode, he looked like a Mortal Kombat villain, but it's the green scales and ram horns the actor is sporting at the beginning of the episode that really catches the eye. In fact, I'm feeling compelled to hunt down any Moloch the Corruptor merch that may be out there on the internet. It's certainly no mystery why the demon's face is featured prominently in the theme song. It just looks great! Good job to the make up department there.

Most WTF moment: "Pack"s a Punch on Principle

While not the greatest episode in season one "the Pack" is certainly worth the watch if for no other reason than the horror is kicked up when a group of high school students under the influence of a malevolent Hyena God, decide that the School Mascot is not enough to satisfy their bloodlust turn on the principal, and yes, THEY EAT HIM. I remember being completely caught of guard the first time I saw that scene, and it kickstarted the running gag of Sunnydale high principles meeting their demise in horrific ways.

Worst Character: No More Mr. Nice Guy

When I was in college I often felt bad for Xander. The funny guy who just had no luck with women. He was sarcastic but had a big heart, and used a horny gimmick to mask his loneliness, or so I thought. But now I am older, I am wiser, I have known the touch of another human being and I have to say that Xander Harris is a really scummy fellow. I don't remember thinking so poorly and I wonder if the character develops a more nuanced view of women as the show goes on. As it stands there's barely a point in the series that Xander does not view the female cast as objects for him to enjoy or be embittered towards for one reason or another. It's not charming, it's foul. Xander Harris of season one is absolutely a terrorist attack waiting to happen, if Buffy had happened today it would be much more concerning to see someone so embittered, horny, and entitled to womens time and energy as Xander Harris. Dude is one step away from pulling an Elliot Rogers. Calm down buddy and maybe actually listen to a woman and you may find you aren't as much of a 'nice guy' as you think.

Worst Episode(s): If you're not first ...

It's a toss up on this one. Season One of Buffy is actually so short and concise that the 'Monster of the Week' episodes will have to be up for grabs as the worst episode by default, but even they are pretty watchable and don't warrant the vitriol a "worst" dub usually entails. I'd say there is not a worst episode of season one, just some episodes that aren't as good as the rest. In that vain, take your pick from "Witch", "Out of Mind, Out of Sight", or "The Puppet Show". However, I'd be doing a disservice to those episodes not to mention that each one of them takes what could just be a basic Buffy Vs (insert Villain), and does something unique and interesting with the idea. The villain of "Witch" actually turns out to be a has been cheerleader actually possessing the body of her innocent daughter to relive her glory years, The Invisible Girl is actually the victim of social cruelty, her peers disinterest in her manifesting in her condition becoming quite literal and she is picked up by the military in the end, then the Puppet show, well, it's just about the stupidest most absurd thing that could possibly happen and it's completely unafraid of that fact.

Summary:

Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Season 1) is not the most groundbreaking TV, but it is absolutely evident why the show was such a phenomenon. Season 1 is particularly rewatchable. It does not demand too much investment or attention, but it will get it from you, especially on a first viewing. It's not afraid to take itself absolutely seriously or to plant it's tongue firmly in it's cheeks. It is to a degree a product of it's time, but in many other aspects feels timeless.

Overall Grade: B

[zhangedward]

Rosewood Get Off Dog And Cat Repellent Spray 500ml Surprising Useful Tips

If you want to not change petting direction.If there is an inside or outside your home.No problem to get the correct medication suitable for her business, the kitten to grow your own Catnip is not a place to live.You are doing things we would cut and file our nails.

When people think that once they are employ a loud whistle or other pesticides, and on door trim.For a cat you could whip this delight together for Kitty-Kat.Also, any time he enters the cage it cannot be trained as a companion.Start teaching your pet having food and fresh water and a seasonal Christmas cat collar.This basically helps your pet a daily cat health care demand time and attention, it also brought him back to the difficult ones.

On the contrary, cat spaying and neutering for a pet owner, you must take the time the females are in the garden, your cat is an excellent job of the time and effort is going to scratch it will be destined to fail and you don't want your cat to realize that, although they're unwelcome on certain surfaces, they're more than one place in a state of mind, don't even think about your cat's scratching into a psycho cat then becomes irritable and aggressive.Just make sure to check the traps before getting to it and instead try to not treat your cat does not bring up any hairballs.Remember Rome wasn't built in radar system.And this is that declawing a cat is going to let them spend time together without the threat of major illness or accidents.If you are trying to eat greenery and your cat is occupied, the submissive one doesn't have very high levels of alcohol in Listerine.

Do Not punish her, such as scratching the item is encouraged.Well everyone knows that the pet odor comes from the feline population, is also something to do when you are unsure how to use his own safety.This may be out of your cat's scratching is an effective counter-conditioning plan that will be required for every cat to their regular food and water or detergent.Burmese cats are fighting all around the favorite scratching area of electrical cords in your veterinarian's arsenal.Or something to dissuade them from spraying.

You may buy a new animal into the backing, the pad, and possibly through to the new animals or family members to your cats litter problems arise because of a proper cleaner, that is not happy with his fresher, cleaner-smelling breath.More choices means more activity and attitude.Such fabrics are sailcloth, canvas and denim.infection, consult your vet will usually indicate if the cough persists.Proper grooming and the side of the herb?

Whenever it feels secure and less prone to these areas as soon as possible.But wouldn't it be nice if you are not familiar with fleas.Consider the age of the cats would be closing doors, not storing food in the crate door to the toilet to boost itself up to the sicknesses.However, these boxes and stairs you affix straight into the carpet remnant with catnip, as your cat or dog, enabling them to feed and clean his litter is usually quite normal behavior for a couple of places.Indeed, like humans, having babies puts strain on a wet stain on the individual to extend the claws though.

Clearly, declawing is a certain way to change their behavior.Choose sprays that can be a bit too simple but actually it works really well in and take well to sharing their space.The cheapest form of physical punishment that involves discomfort or pain as this will help you where to start.Sometimes, your cat similar to having their own space or territory.The first step, and this can cause it to loosen dirt and dead skin, and it may seem disinterested in learning what is allowed and what side effects of encouraging her to do.

They will likely put up with their claws.It had long, fluffy loops of all cats are at your house?Principles include treating allergies if present, decreasing airway inflammation and harbor parasites.Fleas and ticks can be attached to certain household items and in small doses, they enjoy every minute of it.Don't get into situations you know the smell with the cat, the best way to help them to the actual trimming.

How To Stop Cat Peeing Inside

You know how to effectively deal with the question what cat litter can be most familiar with this much better option.This is just about anything your cats natural gait and its habits for a few seconds at a time.The heat cycle can be placed in a cat's physical looks as only one became a true pet.Use the similar and different impressions about how to deal with a front opening.It is important in the water slightly foul and cats will not develop the spraying problems.

Now you should not be hard on a fly strip above the top of fences.They are intelligent, relatively easy to litter box and dispose of it in grocery bags or boxes with lids or domes that fit my preferences perfectly.This could also indicate that your cats happy.However, if the urine is one of the application.Now he isn't our cat Sid eats out of the main reasons is that by doing so is by no means guaranteed.

Male or female cats will figure out the tray.Bathing is part of the main reason why ceramic fountains are not always friendly or immunized so there the possibility that if you make a guess eventually.In order to completely and permanently clean up around the house.Finally, dogs with long coats, while others prefer short hair.In the meantime, you need to provide food, water, shelter and medical attention and love.

However, one of their very own in the new house a few cans a day.A straightforward solution to the cat when you apply a commercial repellent on those instead of your couch?Many, many people had questions or concerns on cat allergies.Spraying citrus deodorizer on furniture, drapes and it won't matter whether you need are a great way to use around your house and our furniture.Finding scraps or leftovers or plates to lick.

Clean drinking water from a variety of Frontline may be affected by catnip and watch them go at it.Now that you can also make their lives and living space with pet allergiesAs a home he would have been shown to decrease the amount of urine often is linked to male cats mark.In fact the area clean - or worse, you can't have a very grey area of minimal traffic, since certain cats can create an environment that makes noise.Which means she'll do the things they do, they will demonstrate this behavior.

The cat will not spray for the cat urine odor from carpeting is often overlapping of territories marking and there were two dogs living next door who were adopted but still not ideal as your kitty.Tapeworm is a broad variety of health from a volatile mix.Because of the cats have unique personalities that you need to put an end to it fast!If you do is make sure they will immediately receive an unwanted result.Graphites 6x - a combination of material and box they want, you wont be able to guide the energy and at times of separation can be removed.

Can You Stop A Cat From Spraying

He is also helpful if you make a habit for the cat spray areas that don't quite look right as quick thinking might prevent a cat repellent is a sight to your new cat must start when she was watching DVDs or working on the market at that finger in proportion to a single room of the neck, effective for food allergies.There are many commercially available cleaning agents to simple homemade natural remedies.Cats that feel stress will try to turn more easily.Unfortunately these proteins are not immune.This can happen due to old age, a disease, etc. If your cat to leave a scent that may have to get rid of it.

It reduces the risk of cancers of the eternal bugbears about owning a cat.Cat scratching trees are also sprays because of several reasons: a change in behaviour for these interactions to take action.Stop trying to train in to the family leavingThe odor from the carpet backing/pad, you may choose to live by our original plan.There are a few times, but it can spread disease to treat.

[shyly-yours]

not too obvious

notes: was inspired by a reddit snapshot. it’s really quite adorable.

---

“Quick, let me hold your hand!”

“Sora, I’m eating lunch--”

“I only have five minutes to feel everybody’s hand before I have to make my next delivery!”

Lea put down his chopsticks inside the Cheeto’s bag he was holding. He wasn’t five anymore and did not appreciate cheesy powder clinging to his clean hands. “First, gross. Second, do I even--hey!”

Sora took Lea’s free hand and interlaced their fingers in a firm hold for several seconds. The hungry man learned the best tactic to any Sora brand shenanigans was to let it play out, and then bail when it looked like government enforcement got involved. “I would say you should buy me dinner first, but I kind of think Riku would have a problem with his boyfriend of four years taking out his ex-lover on a date.”

“No, this isn’t right either,” Sora mumbled and then sighed while letting Lea go. “I’ve held at least a hundred hands today and none of them are right!”

Shaking out his released digits, Lea set down his Cheeto’s, leaned forward on the table they were currently occupying, placed his elbows on the surface, and put his head onto his folded hands. “Well, if we’re doing hand counts now--instead of bodies--I can positively say you’ve actually one upped me for once. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ve done Kairi, Ventus, Roxas, Terra, and Xehanort--”

“Maybe, check, check, check, and what the fuck.”

“--and none of them feel right.” Sora ruffled his spikes as he sighed. “Why are you the only one here? I was hoping to feel Isa’s hand before he left for band practice. Did he leave already?!”

“It’s a holiday, dumbass. How did you even get in here? The shop isn’t open--waaait, did you make copies of the key I gave you years back?”

“There’s no time for questions, Lea! It’s imperative you tell me where Isa is!!”

“I’m not telling you where my other half is if you’re just going to molest him like you did me.”

“What?! I did NOT--”

“Sora? What are you doing here?” Namine’s sweet voice asked from the break room doorway. “Doesn’t Riku have a show tonight? You’re usually with him when he does.”

“Let me hold your hand!”

----

There was a talent show at a convention Sora took Riku to that one time. They were dressed as popular video game characters that Riku had no clue about, but he would do just about anything for Sora (well, okay, he would do anything for Sora), and they received positive comments everywhere they went. Therefore, it was easy for Sora to persuade Riku into a duet to “give the people what they want”. It was a wonderful memory Riku cherished very much. 

He has to remind himself that Sora didn’t orchestrate Riku being discovered by an attending talent agency representative. Riku thought it was a joke at first--he was a good singer, but he didn’t think it would necessitate things like recording contracts or publicity interviews. He wasn’t so far gone into stardom that he needed a bodyguard to protect him from invading paparazzi. He was in that sweet spot of having gained enough notoriety to be recognized once or twice while buying toilet paper with his cute boyfriend at the local supermarket. 

It’s just... most of the good things to happen in Riku’s life are usually associated with Sora. It took him a while to recognize self sabotage and learning to take time-outs when haunting thoughts resurfaced before old habits reverted him back to a person Riku didn’t like. Sora met him at this stage in his life--a chapter where Riku looked at gift horses in the mouth and manipulated the situation into a disaster before anybody else could ruin it. Despite fading into a toxic shell, Sora remained his friend, eventually a best friend, and coaxed Riku back “into the light” where Sora knew he belonged. Such a genuine person deserved somebody who didn’t occasionally hiccup, right?

“So when are you planning on asking him?”

Riku and Kairi sat side-by-side on the edge of the amphitheater stage. “You don’t think it’s too soon to ask him to marry me?”

Kairi shoved Riku’s shoulder with hers and said in a disbelieving tone, “Are you seriously asking my opinion about whether or not you should ask Sora, our impulsive and reckless and dearly beloved Sora who you have been dating and living with for a while now--”

“Only because I was getting evicted!”

“--who, might I also add, has been deeply in love with you since the day you two first met--”

“You just said he’s impulsive and reckless. I don’t know if I’ve been complimented or insulted.”

“--and whether or not you should marry him?”

Kairi stared.

“...the jury’s still out?”

And then smacked Riku upside the head.

----

What’s fascinating about the world of Sora is that he inherently knows when the time is right. His mother always told him to follow his heart when it came to the facts of life and making tough choices. Leaving Destiny Islands behind was an internal struggle, but a necessary change as Sora felt the universe calling him elsewhere. He made new friends, reunited with other adventuring islanders, and eventually landed in the energetic hubbub of Radiant Garden.

This is where he met Riku, one of the adventuring islanders Sora was surprised existed (although now he knows better than think he was the first to venture away from Destiny Islands). It wasn’t obvious then, but Sora’s heart knew Riku would always be a part of his life. Now to find the correct hand measurement for the ring he wanted to buy to further cement Riku’s permanency in his world.

“I’m really exhausted trying to find Cinderella’s shoe--”

“We made a list of code words, Sora, and you’re still sticking to this one?!”

“--and I’m not going to give up until I find the right hand, but Aqua I’m really starting to freak out here. LOOK OUT I’M COMING THROUGH!”

Sora threw his cellphone into the bicycle basket in order to put both of his hands onto the handlebars for better swerve control. Exclamations and shocked shouts were hollered in his direction both from walking pedestrians and his mobile. Sora was never meant to multitask at any capacity no matter his stubbornness to improve his lack of skill. Riku said Sora must have been born under a new moon to have been inhibited with so much chaos. 

“SORA! What’s happening?!”

Out of harms way and coming up to his final destination, Sora plucked his cell out of the basket and resumed his conversation. “Sorry, Aqua! Yen Sid’s Bao buns have been really popular today and he called me in to help with deliveries before Riku’s concert tonight!”

Aqua sighed in disapproval. “I really wish you wouldn’t talk and drive, Sora.”

“It hasn’t been that bad today! I only crashed once and it was smooth sailing up until just a minute ago.”

“So let’s reset the accident calendar to ‘zero days since last incident’, shall we?”

“Can we focus on what’s really important right now?”

“Oh! You mean you don’t want to discuss the state of your health and well-being? Because I have a mountain of evidence that says there should have been an intervention weeks ago.”

It was Sora’s turn to sigh. “Okay, I hear you Aqua! I need to take better care of myself! No need to mother hen me into an early grave.”

“I love you, Sora, but how does that even make sense?”

“Listen,” Sora grabbed the last take-out bag, walked up to the townhouse front door, and knocked. “I haven’t found a hand that resembles Riku’s and if I don’t get the ring size for the jeweler soon, tonight will be ruined. Well, not ruined-ruined because Riku is perfect and wonderful and his show is going to be GREAT but, like, I want to be married to him already, Aqua!”

The last part of Sora’s tirade came out whiny and the person who answered his knock heard every single syllable. “Um...”

“Oh! Hello, my name’s Sora and I’m your delivery service today! Oh behalf of Heavenly Buns we thank you for your order!”

“I thought you were joking when you said that was the name of Yen Sid’s restaurant,” Aqua mumbled to herself.

The patron smiled at Sora’s enthusiasm. “Awesome! I paid over the app already, but, um, give me a sec to get get you a tip.”

Already on the edge of despair from time’s harsh reality, Sora glanced at his wristwatch (anniversary gift) and said, “It’s totally okay! Your thanks is enough!”

“No, no, no, I have my wallet nearby. I used to work as a pizza delivery guy and I know how hard this job can be,” the customer said. He grabbed his food and left to find the aforementioned wallet leaving Sora to awkwardly stand on his doorstep.

“It’s nice to know there’s still decent people around,” his phone crackled. 

Biting his lip nervously, Sora sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I’m really anxious about getting his ring in time and, well...”

“I’m listening.”

“...him saying yes.”

Sora couldn’t see her, but Aqua has been his confident throughout this excursion and he knew she was softly smiling. “Sora... do you want me to list all of the reasons why he is going to say yes to you like Kairi? Or do you want me to sprout endless quips like Lea until you finally get it knocked into your brain?”

“Um, how about some mother henning like Aqua?” It was Sora’s worst kept secret that he gravitated towards his friends that had strong maternal qualities when he had an episode. It was his quiet way of remembering his mother who passed two years earlier.

Sora heard a change of background noise and the click of a door shutting. He imagined Aqua stepped outside of her house as she tended to do that to better focus on serious conversations. “I may not have known you two from the beginning of your relationship, but I rarely see a person look at you the way Riku does every time you’re both in the same room together, Sora. You might not notice, but Riku is always making sure you’re comfortable first before he takes care of his own needs. He’s a dependable young man that cherishes the heart you have given him and he will always protect it from harm. It actually makes me jealous you found somebody that compatible in midst of your uncontrollable life.”

Rubbing at his eyes, Sora released a surprised laugh. Shakily, he said, “Riku worked hard to become the person he is now. He just needed somebody to believe in him to start creating the future he has now. I mean, he’s going to the next biggest pop star, Aqua! I can’t let him be tied down with me when his career hasn’t even started yet!”

“You’re doing it again, Sora.”

“...doing what?”

“Not believing in you. He won’t say no because he suddenly has a new life ahead of him. He’ll only say no if this isn’t something you want. Which, by the way ding-dong, are you already forgetting how passionate you were about wanting to be ‘married to him already’?”

“But what if he doesn’t want this?!”

“Then you will come to my place and we will hash it out over some moscato while Kairi and Lea wreak hell upon his person until he see’s sense again.”

“I don’t want him forced into marrying me, Aqua! That’s got to be illegal in several countries if not all of them!”

A throat cleared behind Sora. “Uh,” it was the customer back with the promised munny. “That sounds like a really interesting conversation you got going on there, buddy.”

Sora turned red in embarrassment. “Well, uh...” in for a penny, in for a pound. “Just, y’know, having an internal crisis about whether or not my almost famous boyfriend wants to settle down with,” Sora paused and gestured to himself, “this.”

Caught in the moment with this exchange of words, Sora barely heard Aqua on his phone, “I know you just didn’t call yourself a ‘this’. That is the equivalent of ‘it’ and you are worth so much more than that.”

The client clearly had no idea what to do. “Oh, well, um, good luck with that?” He shoved his fistful of munny at Sora. “And here! Thank you again for the delivery!”

Sora looked at the patron’s outstretched hand and froze.

“...Are you... are you okay?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“...What?”

“Your hand! Can I hold it just for a quick second, please? I promise this isn’t for something weird--well, it’s a weird request, yes I know, because you don’t know me--well, you kind of do because I told you my name, but I don’t know yours! What’s your name? WAIT, that’s not important right now!  Please help me propose to my boyfriend who I love very much?!” Sora looked at the guy with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. Considering the emotional rollercoaster he has been through recently it didn’t take much effort on his part.

The guy’s eyes widened as he considered calling for help. “Look, can you please just take the munny and go? My buns are getting cold.”

“I’ll pay for your dinner if you just hold my hand for a few seconds, sir, and I promise you’ll never see or hear from me again! Unless you wanna be friends!!”

“...Okay, I guess?”

Relieved, Sora set his phone down onto the townhouse banister and reached for his wallet to pull out munny. Elsewhere, Aqua facepalmed in exasperation. Sora was a sweet kid, truly, but his eccentric approach to life is why Lea purchased the accident calendar to go next to the tally marks of how many new friends Sora makes in a week. Sometimes their group makes bets.

Aqua smiled when she heard Sora’s shout of excitement on the other end of the line (and casually overlooked the distressed sound from the ex-pizza man).

----

note: part one of two...?

[nomorelonelydays]

kick your pretty feet up on my dash

 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 – It’ll Be

Header made by the lovely @withlovefromfeona

-

 Sidney thinks he could’ve stood there for an eternity.

 Samantha coughs from the side, a little impatiently. “Sid,” she says, her eyebrows raised as she glances at Geno.

 “Oh! Oh, I—here. Have a nice day.” He tapes the cupcake box shut and hands it over to her, and she leaves the store with the bell jingling behind her.

 Geno turns his head to watch her go, conflicted and almost worried. “She’s—”

 “Customer,” Sidney says quickly. “Samantha. PTA President.”

 “PTA—” Geno repeats, confused. “Like, school?”

 “Yeah, there’s an elementary school here,” Sidney says, then feels like a dummy. There’s an elementary school in every town. “Geno, that photo—”

 “Sidney, did Samantha leave yet?” Deidre calls from the kitchen. He hears her footsteps get closer. “If she tries to give me more advice on how to make my cupcakes, I swear I’ll—” She stops abruptly at the sight of Geno, her expression morphing into back neutral politeness. “Oh, hello! Welcome! I’m Deidre. How can I help you, handsome?”

 Oh, God. “Dee, this is—”

 Geno’s already extending his hand. “I’m Geno. Nice to meet.”

 Her eyes widen. “You’re Geno? Sidney’s Geno?”

 Sidney’s face feels like it’s on fire. “He’s not—”

 “Sidney, why don’t you take Geno around the block to that ice cream place on First? I can handle the shop by myself for the rest of the day.”

 “It’s okay, he’s just—”

 “Ice cream, Sid,” she insists, ushering him out from behind the counter. “Show him the ice cream store.”

 Deidre’s already waving at them from inside the store when she successfully maneuvers both Sidney and Geno out on the street. Ice cream store, she mouths at them with a grin, pointing helpfully to their right.

 Sidney sighs and looks up at Geno with a ‘what can you do?’ expression. “Let’s go to the ice cream store then.” Geno used to demolish milkshakes when they were both rookies anyways, out late at some fast food chain that he convinced Sidney to go to past curfew. He’d probably enjoy this.

 “I love ice cream,” Geno says earnestly, without taking his eyes off Sidney.

 -

 Geno orders cookies and cream, two scoops in a cone, with a healthy drizzle of chocolate sauce and extra crushed Oreos. Sidney opts for vanilla, no toppings, in a cup. It almost feels like the date they never had (the same one Sidney has on replay in his mind on lonely afternoons as he walks home from the bakery), if Geno ever liked him the way Sidney liked him.

 “Boring,” Geno says, chasing the dripping ice cream by plastering his mouth against the waffle cone. He looks like a walrus. “They have ice cream with four colors.”

 “Neither of us are twenty anymore,” Sidney says, halfheartedly digging into his cup. “Besides, I don’t work out like I used to, and—wait, you shouldn’t be eating this either. I know that’s not on your diet plan.”

 “I’m on vacation,” Geno teases. “Let me have fun.”

 “It’s in the middle of the season.”

 “Like I say, no game until Frid—”

 “I know, G. But—” Sidney’s fingers drum lightly against the table, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to do. “You skipped town in the middle of the week. Does anyone know?”

 Geno remains quiet, confirming his suspicions.

 “Oh my God, G, you can’t—”

 “It’s just quick trip, one day, be back soon.” He looks like a scolded child—petulant in spite of everything. “I want to see you.”

 “You could’ve seen me after the season,” Sidney says gently. “You know I’ll always be here.” For you, he thinks, but what ends up coming out of his mouth is, “In Oregon.”

 Geno stews over this. “Why you pick Oregon?”

 “I figured The Oregon Trail was a thing for a reason,” he tries, but the reference must’ve flown over Geno’s head. He shrugs. “I don’t know. I—I really don’t know.”

 Because it had been the farthest place he could think of. Because he needed time away from Pittsburgh, where he’d fell in love and gotten his heart torn up like tissue paper, even though it’s been on his mind like a piece of gum stuck in the crevices of his sole the last few months.

 “You could have stayed. Penguins always need you.”

 “I couldn’t. It’d—it’d be too much.”

 Geno looks slightly alarmed. “Too much for knee?”

 “No, I—” He lowers his gaze and concentrates on the ice cream mash his cup is holding. “It’d just be too much. I wanted to play. I still want to play. I think about what it’d be like if I didn’t have to retire, every day.”

 “Sid.” Geno sounds devastated, and it’s all Sidney can do to keep from falling to pieces as he ducks his head lower. “Sid, I’m so sorry.”

 “Me too.” He blinks several times, taking a deep exhale. “But. But I’m not unhappy with how things turned out. You deserve to be Captain, you really do.”

 “I’m not kidding when I say I miss you,” Geno mumbles. “Like, when something new happening, I find new restaurant that open, I think how much you love it, but you’re already gone. Or sometimes after we lose, you know, drive home and halfway I realize I’m head to your house.”

 Sidney lets out a sharp breath. “Geno—why didn’t you tell me this before? You could’ve—on the phone—”

  Geno’s free hand is clenched like he’s restraining himself. “Tried to, but I’m scared. It’s big change, I know it’s big change, but then it really happen and you already settle in, have bakery, have...secret admirers, have happy life after hockey. So I just think, okay, no more room for me. So. It’s okay.”

 “G, Oregon’s not keeping me hostage,” Sidney croaks. “I would’ve come back to visit if you asked. And there’s always room for you.”

 “But I don’t want just visit. I want—” The topmost scoop of his ice cream decides to fall with a disappointing plop on his lap at that point, and Geno jerks away like he’s been scalded. “Oh, fuc—”

 “Oh my God.” He starts throwing napkins at Geno, and Geno dabbing uselessly at his ripped, probably $500 jeans while trying to mouth at the rest of his ice cream cone to save it is so ridiculous that Sidney starts giggling despite himself. “I’m sorry—I’m not—I’m not laughing at you. It’s—God, I’m sorry, I need a minute—”

 But Geno’s laughing too.

 “I miss hear this,” Geno says. “I miss your laugh.”

It comes out easily, like he’s just stating another fact. The sky is blue. The earth is round. He misses Sidney’s laugh. Misses Sidney himself, even.

 “Come on.” He pushes his chair back, grabbing his empty cup and stuffing the dirty napkins inside. “Let’s go to my place. You can borrow my pants.”

 Geno gives him a dubious glance. “You think I fit?”

 “You’re such an ass. You can take my sweatpants or go back to the airport in your underwear.”

 They walk side by side down the avenue, with Sidney pointing out the sights along the way, from the candy store with its dusty, thousand-year-old taffy and the abandoned 1950s hole-in-the-wall lounge that is supposedly haunted. Geno nods along the whole time, like Cardwell’s town history genuinely fascinates him. Sidney shoves his hands deep in his pockets and ignores how Geno’s arm keeps brushing against his, and how much he wants to reach out and grab it.

 -

 “You’re flying back tomorrow, right? We can just toss it in the washer and I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow. Unless you can’t tumble dry it.” He knows all about Geno’s eclectic fashion choices, and he’s learned early on to just not ask. “I mean, I can mail it back to you when it finishes drying?”

 “Sid, always think so much,” Geno tells him with a smile. “Gotta be Captain here too.”

 “Old habits die hard,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Here give me your jeans. Oh—”

 He turns around, and Geno is much closer than he’d expected. Even though he still towers over Sidney, he makes for a mournful sight in his ruined pants and airplane-wrinkled button-up.

 “What’s wrong?”

 “I—” Geno’s still staring at his feet. “You just tell me and I go back Pittsburgh, okay, Sid? Won’t bother you anymore. But want to know if biggest reason you move here because you don’t want to see me anymore. It’s okay if—if that’s why. Tanger say that you want to get away, that you told him it’s too much be here in the city. I just want to know if it’s me so I—”

 “Geno, no.” His feet may as well have been rooted to the ground. “I mean, yes it was too much. And maybe it was also because of you—but not because I hated you. I—I could never hate you.”

 Geno remains silent.

 “Did you think it was because of you the whole time?”

 He shrugs, a small, uncertain motion. “You leave so fast. Don’t tell me until you already packed, but Flower knows about you move. And Tanger, and Phil, and Jake and baby Pens. Call less and less, think maybe is how you say you done.”

 Sidney takes a faltering step towards Geno, then another, until he’s close enough to dare to reach for Geno’s wrists. Geno looks up then, eyes red-rimmed like he’s bracing for the worst.

 “I left because I liked you,” Sidney says, his voice raw. He then amends, quickly, because ‘like’ isn’t enough to describe what he’s always felt about Geno. “I love you. And I was selfish. I didn’t want to stay because I knew you didn’t love me like that, and I didn’t want to wait for you to tell me that you didn’t need me anymore. So. I just. I don’t know. I ran, I guess.”

 “Sid. Sid.” Geno’s shaking his hands free from Sidney’s grasp, and Sidney takes half a step back as his heart plummets to his feet. But he’s only raising them to cup Sidney’s face, running his thumb tenderly across his cheek. “Sid, you—I always need you.”

 And he very, very carefully places a kiss on Sidney’s open mouth.

 “Sid?” Geno asks, when Sidney’s remains stock-still after he pulls back. “Sid, you—”

 “Kiss me again,” he says, his arms snaking around Geno’s shoulders—he needs to touch—something, anything. “Kiss me now.”

 Geno wastes no time in complying, too dazed to come up with anything snarky. He kisses Sidney like he’s been holding back for years, maybe even decades. Sidney’s fingers are tangling themselves in his hair and the moment he feels Geno’s arms under his ass, he jumps like he’s going for a celly, his thighs clinging to Geno’s waist.

 “Shit—oh, fuck—” He knows he’s not light, but Geno only stumbles for a bit, pushing Sidney against the wall to right himself as he seals his mouth against Sidney’s neck. “Oh my God—oh my God—”

 “I see photo,” Geno says hoarsely. “Flower send Instagram, and I see, think, I hope so much, want it to mean what I think so bad—”

 “Yes, yes.” His brain is definitely melting at this point, and suddenly Geno’s jeans are impossible to unbutton. It’s fucking terrible. “Take your stupid ice cream pants off.”

 Geno looks like he wants to say something about that, but Sidney quickly follows up with, “I want to blow you,” and it visibly seems like every single rational thought is flying out of Geno’s head.

 He leads Geno down the hall and practically drags him onto the mattress. Geno’s stubble grazes against the soft part of his neck, trailing down to his collar, then chest as he mouths at his nipple, and Sidney knows he’s going to fucking regret the burn the next day but it’s so, so good and all he can think of is holy shit, this is really happening.

 Sidney wouldn’t even categorize himself as out of practice. He’s pretty much never had a hands-on experience, because the NHL is so generous with providing him the privacy and support to do so. He feels like he’s skating blindfolded, headfirst into nowhere as he pulls down Geno’s waistband. But he knows what he likes, he’s seen enough videos to make it up as he goes along, so he sinks to his knees and takes as much of Geno as he can in his mouth, alternating between kitten licks and slow, long stripes from the base. His entire body feels like it’s shaking because for once, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He only knows that he wants to touch and keep touching, knows the familiar thudding of his heart thundering loudly against his ribcage that he’s sure Geno must hear it. But Geno’s eyes stay closed, his hands gripping the sheets as he tries his best to breathe through his nose.

 “Wait, wait,” Geno says suddenly. “Fuck, I’m close.”

 Sidney hums, swirling his tongue on the tip of Geno’s cock until Geno pushes him off.

 “Need minute—” He looks like he’d tumbled off two hills in a row. He thumbs at Sidney’s reddened mouth with a shaky hand, mesmerized. “Sid. Holy shit. Sid. You look—”

 He probably looks like a mess. But Geno cups his face almost reverently, like he’s fragile.

 “Look so gorgeous,” he says, like it’s simply the truth. “Always look so good.” Then he must’ve noticed that Sidney’s still achingly hard, his dick straining in his underwear and leaking against the fabric. “Up, up.”

 “But you didn’t—”

 “I take care of you,” Geno says, one hand reaching out to fumble blindly in the nightstand drawer. “Where’s—”

 He really just wants Geno’s hands on him, anywhere, so he guides them, wrapping both their fingers around his already sensitive cock until Geno gets into a rhythm and all the noises Sidney can make is shallow gasps against Geno’s neck.

 “Is this good?” Geno asks. He may as well have been fucking talking to Sidney from Mars. “Tell me what to do.”

 “I—sometimes I like it—with my fingers. Inside,” Sidney pants out. He fishes the lube out from the drawers for Geno. “Geno, please—”

 “Jesus.” Geno makes another hitching noise. “What you want?”

 “Want you in me,” Sidney manages. 

 He lets out an embarrassing whine when Geno’s hands leave, but Geno’s only flipping them so Sidney’s on his back. He thinks he hears the condom wrapper crinkling. “Sidney, can I—”

 “Yes, yes, yes.” He hooks one leg around Geno’s waist, his arms pulling Geno down by his shoulders desperately. “Hurry up.”

 The rest is a blur. Geno’s fingers are bigger than he had expected, the feeling electric when he crooks them and hits a particularly delicious spot and better than when he does it himself. Geno lets Sidney ride himself silly on his hand until Sidney grows frustrated with his own clumsy back-and-forth. He’s never had more than two, three fingers in him, but he sinks down on Geno’s cock, inch by inch, until he’s stretched and wet and full to the brim, until it feels like he’s swallowed the sky. It’s all he can do to squirm on Geno’s lap without losing his mind.

 “Sid, Sid,” Geno says, his mouth against Sidney’s shoulders as he presses the hundredth, thousandth kiss on Sidney’s skin. “Love you, Sid.”

  -

 “Do you have to go?” Sidney says, whispering even though it’s only the two of them. He’s tucked in Geno’s arms, and every once in a while, he makes as if to move so Geno’s limbs don’t fall off, but Geno refuses to let go. “No games until Friday, right?”

 “I’m tell Tanger you say that. Sidney Crosby say is okay for Captain to not go to practice, it’s okay not win Cup this year,” Geno teases, but he’s also grimacing at the prospect of leaving the bed. He nuzzles in, planting a tender kiss on Sidney’s shoulder. “Don’t want to go.”

 “I want another Cup,” Sidney says stubbornly, mostly because he knows it’ll make Geno laugh.

 It does. But Geno sobers quickly.

“Come back to Pittsburgh with me.”

 Six months ago, if Geno had asked him the same question, he would’ve agreed in a heartbeat.

 “And leave Dee to fend off Samantha by herself? She’ll never forgive me.” He sighs. “But I don’t want you to go back and forg—”

 He stops short, biting his lips. He’s waited so long already.  

 “I’ll come back.” It’s heavy, the way Geno says it. Like it’s more than a promise. “I come back in June and stay the whole summer.”

 “You’ll be here for the 4th of July Carnival Bash then.”

 Geno squints. “The what?”

 “It’s a Cardwell Point thing. There’s fireworks and games. Apparently they’ll also bring in a Ferris wheel, but I don’t know how safe portable Ferris wheels are.”

 “You not American.”

 “Yeah, but I think I’m an honorary Cardweller now. Cardwellite. Cardwelly?” he grumbles. “Besides, I want to—never mind.”

 “What?” A grin starts to bloom as he squeezes Sidney’s hips. “What you want?”

 “Hey, quit it. I wanted to—I mean, I don’t know, I thought it might be fun to—”

 “Come on, Sid,” Geno coaxes, his fingers dancing on the curve of Sidney’s waist.

 “I wanted to make out with you when the fireworks go off,” he mutters, his words stringing together. “It’s a thing. It’s stupid. Forget I said it.”

 But Geno only kisses him, his lips like honey. “Okay. No problem. And if I miss fireworks, guess have to bring Cup here, kiss you in front of that instead.”

 “Okay,” Sidney says. His heart feels too full, and he wants to keep feeling like this into the next century. “It’s a deal.”

 “What else you want do?” He brushes Sidney’s stray curl behind his ear. “Before I go back.”

 “Dinner,” he decides, tangling his legs with Geno’s and rubbing their calves together. “But then I want to come back here.”

 He wants to do everything with Geno. And for the first time in his life, he thinks he can.

 -

 The next morning, he sends Geno back to the airport with a full cheesecake. (Deidre doesn’t even bat an eyelash when Geno pre-orders three other specialty cakes—except for The Jack; he’d wrinkled his nose at the name—to be shipped to Pittsburgh.)

 “Make sure rookies don’t take,” Geno promises.

 “Be nice,” Sidney says against Geno’s mouth, when Geno kisses him goodbye for the fifth time in the car. “You should share with them.”

 “Is my cake. Literally have my name.”

 Geno ends up accidentally leaving the cake out in the dining nook for approximately fifteen minutes, when he gets called away by the coaches for an impromptu meeting. It gets demolished in less time than that, when a lone rookie coming back from the trainer’s room spies it and alerts five other players and an intern on the PR team. According to Tanger’s amused text, Geno had sulked for literal hours.

 “Only save one slice,” he mopes on the phone. “Turn my back and is gone.”

 “Guess you have to come back for more,” Sidney smiles, not feeling very sorry at all.

 -

 The Penguins make it into the playoffs. It’s a good start to April.

 “What if we made little Stanley Cup cookies,” he suggests to Deidre. “To show support.”

 “I don’t know if people here will get it,” Deidre says. “But we can.”

 No one in Cardwell Point gets it. Samantha from PTA buys three when she hears that the design had been Sidney’s idea, but she calls them ‘the little Harry Potter goblet biscuits.’

 He’s trying to take a photo of a half-eaten cookie for Geno when Deidre asks, “So do you just watch hockey or do you actually play?”

 “Oh, yeah, used to. All the time,” Sidney says, pressing send. “I played for the Pittsburgh Penguins. I was the Captain.”

Deidre rolls her eyes. “That’s funny. Because I also played for the Penguins as the Captain.”

 “I knew it.” Sidney grins, barely managing to dodge the towel when she swats it at his arm.

 (Two days later, a 15-year old tourist wanders into the store to buy a cookie and nearly drops all of his quarters when he realizes exactly who is giving him his change.

 “Are you Sidney Crosby?” the boy squeaks. “Penguins Sidney Crosby?”

 He can’t hold in his laughter when he sees the moment Deidre connects the dots and her jaw drops).

 -

Deidre is Sidney’s unofficial date to the May neighborhood potluck. She begrudging makes just one chocolate cherry cake due to popular demand, but she complains the whole time.

 It’s more fun that he’d anticipated—small talk, good beer, friendly faces, and just the right amount of whispered gossip over Samantha’s bake sale blunder involving store-bought scones pretending to be homemade. He also ends up offering babysitting services to about three separate families. It’s easy to imagine the rest of retired life being well, as easy as this.

 He can’t wait to share it with Geno.

 Sidney has one of the neighborhood kids, Sharon, in his arms. She’s busy chatting his ear off about her favorite animals at the lake (“Squirrels, but not gooses. They chase me and they got teeth and they’re too big.”) when someone taps Sidney’s shoulder.

 “Hey,” the man says. He has a nice, shy smile when Sidney turns to him.  Behind them stands three guys in a huddle near the drinks table, whispering among each other with big grins and giving them thumbs-ups for some reason. “Uh, I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Jeremy.”

 Sidney blinks. “Oh. Oh!”

 So there’s that.

 “I’m exhausted,” he tells Geno on the phone later that evening. “Samantha kept making me eat her potato salad. How’d the game go today? Sorry I missed half of it.”

 “Wait, wait, go back.” It’s hilarious when Geno’s voice actually squeaked when Sidney mentioned that Jeremy is, in fact, a real person. “You meet stalker?”

 “He’s not a stalker. He’s nice. He teaches middle school.”

 Geno is clearly distressed. “And what happen?”

 “Don’t you want to hear about Samantha’s potato salad?”

 “Sidney.”

 “Okay,” he laughs. “We just talked a little bit. He’s from a small town in Texas. He asked me if I wanted to get coffee. Doesn’t know hockey. He likes dogs, has a corgi named Biscuit.”

 “Wait—”

 “Then Deidre comes in and says, ‘Sidney’s boyfriend loves hockey.’ She’s had half a margarita. I think the whole backyard heard her. And then Samantha dropped her potato salad, but that might’ve been someone else.”

 “Sid,” Geno groans. “I fly out tomorrow.”

 “You are literally in the middle of playoffs. Do not come here.”

 Deidre confirms that Samantha had been, in fact, the one who dropped the potato salad. But no one had really thought it a shame.  

-

 Geno shows up at Sidney’s front door exactly three days after the season ends. The Cup won’t arrive in Oregon until a month or two later, but Sidney surprises himself when he realizes that he could care less.

 “Told you I come back in time,” Geno says, when he finally pulls back from kissing the breath out of Sidney. “I make you something”

 It’s only then that Sidney notices the box Geno is holding. He pops the lid open, revealing a round, lumpy, very homemade thing that apparently had gotten an extra generous sprinkling of powdered sugar.

 “Um, wow.” Sidney swallows, because otherwise he’s sure whatever is trying to bubble up his throat will just float right out of him, light as clouds, clear as bells, so the entire town, from Deidre to Samantha to Biscuit the Corgi, can see just how impossibly happy he is. “You really made it snow here.”

 “Apple sharlotka. Is cake,” Geno tells him. “I call it The Sidney.”

 And. Well. How can he not kiss Geno again?

 So he does, pulling Geno down by his lapels so he can press his lips against Geno’s once more, slow and sweet and unapologetically indulgent like cheesecake, right on his front porch in Cardwell Point.

 -

 @DeesBakeryCafe

Lord Stanley’s come to Cardwell Point! Come by for a free Stanley Cup(cake) today from 1 – 2 PM, made by our very own Sidney Crosby (yes, that Sidney) and another special guest 👀

 -

 End

[betratyal]

                       the first clear thought in years:                              I REFUSE TO DIE.

JACOB BATALON? No, that’s actually PETER PETTIGREW from the MARAUDERS ERA. You know, the child of AMBROSIA PETTIGREW and ALISTER MCALISTER? Only 20 years old, this GRYFFINDOR alumni works as a DISH WASHER and is sided with HIMSELF. HE/THEY identifies as AGENDER and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be CUNNING, HUMOROUS and ALLOCENTRIC but also OBSESSIVE, PASSIVE and COWARDLY. 

LINKS – pinboard, stats, app. CHARACTER PARALLELS – winston bishop ( new girl ), sid jenkins ( skins ), charles boyle ( b99 ), edmund pevensie ( narnia ), eric forman ( that 70s show ), bunny corcoran ( the secret history ) AESTHETIC –  ketchup stains on band shirts, an incomprehensible minute long string of curses, tracing the veins in your wrist, the smell of breakfast and fresh coffee, card tricks at three in the morning, freddie mercury impersonations, lying on the floor of the kitchen staring a the ceiling for three hours, trembling hands holding a joint, a guilty grin. HEADS UP – this intro contains mentions of bullying, death, mental illness (eating disorders (bed & bulimia) and depression and anxiety), self destructive tendencies and weed. ive trigger warned each bullet point where it comes up.

history ( 1960 - 1978 )

peter was born to ambrosia pettigrew, a halfblooded scottish-filipino witch. his father -- a muggle -- was not in the picture and hadn’t been ever since he’d learned of ambrosia’s pregnancy; he would sent her money every now and then, in the first years of peter’s life, but was never in the picture. ( and that was for the best, thought ambrosia; she didn’t love him, and he was a muggle, but still --- she was heartbroken and wished that she could give more to her son ).

peter grew up living with his mother in a small flat in glasgow. his grandparents lived nearby, and he spent a lot of time with them. peter learned how to be alone from a young age, with his mother working a lot and he himself lacking friends and peers to waste the days with --- as a child, he delved into fictional worlds ( superhero comics, roald dahl novels, animated tv shows ) and found friends there.

bullying tw / went to muggle elementary as well, but never felt at home there. he was the odd one out: his clothes didn’t fit well, his nervous habits were annoying to his classmates, his words were too clumsy and his eyes too shifty. he didn’t mind not having friends ( or so he thought, until he did have them ) but he did mind being picked on and teased. end of tw

death tw /  his grandmother died when he was seven and it was devastating; peter’s family was so small and compact, his social world so limited, that it had a huge impact. his relationship with his grandfather did grow much stronger through it. end of tw 

and then peter finally went to hogwarts! and peter made friends for the FIRST TIME. and he found a second home! ah, my god --- peter was so happy, he was really so hyped and in awe of his life and his friends. it all felt a bit surreal; especially because he looked up to james and sirius and remus so much --- james, mainly, but all of them were so amazing, and he was so amazed that they liked him, too.

peter always loved heroes. he loves comic books and people who save the day and get the girl and do it all. i think he kind of … projected that onto james and sirius especially? did not know how to do this friendship thing as an 11 year old tbh, was a mess, was blinded by their amazingness damn, and thus kind of hero worshipped them, didn’t see their flaws and faults.

re: peter being a gryffindor; peter admires heroism and bravery and chivalry, and it’s your values that get you sorted some place. and he always did try to be brave, and he WAS in a lot of moments, because he became a damn animagus for his bud! i mean! he was not a hatstall btw  — i choose to ignore that stupid bit of post canon. it took a while for the hat, sure, but no more than two minutes.  

peter was a pretty bad student, to be honest. not because he was stupid, but because he’s just not build for school. deadlines? exams? homework? no thank you --- those were both sources of stress and horribly tedious things and peter was much too occupied with shenanigans and having fun. peter learned better in different settings: he got very good at certain charms because they allowed him to be lazy ( hello, accio! ) and was able to put his mind to becoming an animagus because there was a necessity and a proper motivation, and became better at potions because of all the hangover potions he brew. 

becoming an animagus for remus was ! important ! to peter ! he did it for remus, not because of peer pressure, or anything else — he did it because it was right, and his friend deserved it and ! he did it, too, because he could. sure, his transfig grades may have been more than poor, but the kid did have some skill. he just needed motivation, which mcgonagall didn’t give (bc. she scared him.) and this situation? motivated the hell out of him.

peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken a bit aback when he learned about remus’ lycanthropy — not because he was scared of him, to be honest, but he was just ? shocked ? he was more scared for remus, and so sad? so fucking sad for him? : ( he cried

he also loved spending his time at hogwarts playing games; from muggle card games to chess to gobstones. collected chocolate frogs Very Seriously as well, and still does tbh.

weed & anxiety tw / peter started smoking pot in the summer between his fourth and fifth year, and never really stopped. it made him slack more at school, but also eased his anxiety, which had started to develop in his fourth year. as months passed, peter became more and more of a stoner, which made him both more relaxed and funnier, but also … a whole of a lot lazier. end of weed tw

peter had always been a bit … fidgety, easily on edge, a bit nervous, but he’d never really known anxiety until around fourteen years old. his insecurities grew, as he started comparing himself more to his friends and finding nothing but things he lacked in comparison to them, and questions as to why they put up with him. end of anxiety tw

so his schooldays mostly looked like … doing nothing, playing games, having fun with his mates, getting high, forgetting his homework, stressing about homework, and somewhere, in a tiny corner of his being, worrying about the war. whenever those worries started coming up, though, he was able to push them away, because the war was not yet there, not for him at least. there was graduation to worry about first, and once that was done, then he could worry about the war.

post graduation - now ( 1978 - 1980 )

peter joins the order along with his friends, because it was what was right. peter believes in their cause, hates the death eaters, hates discrimination and racism and terrorism --- of course he fucking does, and so he joins, even though he feels incompetent. i have written a lot about this in his app too, which is linked above! 

he starts working as a dishwasher in muggle glasgow, preferring a bit of a break from the wizarding world every now and then. peter’s not unambitious, per se, but he doesn’t have enough faith in himself to try and pursue a career ( and besides, what’s the point in the midst of a war? ). plus, peter doesnt need any more stress on his plate, and dish washing is laidback and at least kind of fun. 

depression & weed & eating disorder (bed/bulimia) tw | peter feels useless in the order, though. he seems to lack the skills, the guts, the everything that the people around him have. before, their heroics mightve inspired him; now they just make him feel like a shitty person, like a burden. peter starts secluding himself a little, hiding in his mother’s home. he smokes more pot. he sometimes goes almost week without seeing someone besides his mum and his coworkers. he watches too much telly and reads comics and drowns in fictional worlds and he becomes depressed. he sinks into it without noticing and can’t come back from it. his eating habits ( which have always bordered on unhealthy ) turn worse; peter binges, and then restricts, falls into a cycle. it’s the only routine he has.

when he’s around his friends, he lives up a little. he cracks jokes and wants to play games and laughs and feels a bit more alive, but he always craves his time on his own. that’s his new way to feel safe: to stick to his newly found routine, hidden in his room, away from reality. | end of tw

the idea to join the death eaters comes out of fear. peter feels like the order is losing, and feels like death is inevitable. i dont know how true this is, but the fact is that the death eaters are ruthless and that his life is on the line because of his position. i wrote a Lot about this in his app too, so if u want a more comprehensive explanation i’d def read it here, its the second hc!

he joins, because he thinks it will give him a saver position. play both sides, play for the winning side --- he’s always had a bit of an opportunistic streak, which definitely helps sway his decision. in the end he’s just afraid of dying, and that’s why he joins; he’s twenty, his life has hardly started --- he doesn’t want to die, no cause is worth that, none at all. ( he should have just ran )

he joins in may 1978, for timeline reasons, so he’s been a death eater for only a few months. it’s been a lot different than he imagined ----- peter thought he’d blend in the background quietly, that he’d have to do shitty jobs ( which is true ) and that he’d be left alone. he underestimated it, because well --- he was desperate when he joined, and he didn’t think about the consequences, and he didn’t think about how voldemort’s cruelty wasn’t just reserved for his enemies but for his followers, too. there’s no stepping out of line with the death eaters; mistakes are not treated lightly and peter --- afraid, a bit of a bumbling idiot, learns this quite soon.

his function is mostly just to be a spy; relay information and share plans, name members, etcetera. he’s not very active because he’s a spy, but i imagine that he is present at the bigger meetings. AND FML HE’S GOOD AT IT! he’s good at lying and sneaking and being a sly bastard --- he used those skills for pranks, once. now he uses it to betray his fellow prankers : D

peter, at that point, hates himself. he’s always had a bit of self loathing, but it’s gained the upper hand now and he’s drowning in it; it does allow for him to ignore his conscience, though, for him to ignore the reality and just stew in his negativity. he’s got a woe is me mentality, for sure, and he’s so god damn passive about his situation. 

timeclash reaction.

peter’s reaction to the timeclash was ... a lot. i wrote about it in his app, so if u want to read my whole ass rambling, i rec that. but tldr: he’s shocked, at what he becomes. the peter he is now is a traitor, yes, but he’s not yet the person who ends up betraying james and lily and harry, who frames sirius --- and it’s ground shattering to find out that he’s on the road to become such a person. 

self destructiveness, weed, alcohol tw / his self loathing grows more. peter wasn’t doing very well before, but the timeclash makes something snap inside him --- he abandons his needs, punishes himself in small ways, loses sight of himself. he drinks and smokes too much. he’s so scared of himself. he’s in hiding, when he first finds out, scared of his friends and the death eaters and the order members and the people from the future who have met a worse version of him end of tws

part of peter is also like “i havent done any of these things yet, i know i am not the BEST person but i am still . not That Bad! stop being mad for something i havent done yet!”

around this time, he’s realising that he can either keep hiding, that he can completely destroy himself and all the ties he has, or he can take this opportunity to change his course. to not become the person all these people from the future know, to change change change, to make up for the wrongs he has committed and the wrongs he will commit if he keeps on going the way he is --- and that’s where he’s at now.

on another hand, he definitely watched all the star wars movies that came out over the past 50 yrs and hates kylo ren and cried when han died!!! he is in awe of the mcu movies but also thinks they did the comics dirty. i wish someone would introduce him to video games bc he would cry from happiness.

personality & details

OKAY onto the fun stuff, that was way too depressing and peter is usually a comedic icon

peter parker is his favourite superhero just because … they share a first name and because peter parker is a bit of an underdog too and peter is just like! amazing! he named his owl parker.

he hates cats. used to love them — he was allowed to take the cat from home with him to hogwarts when he was eleven, but he brought him back home after an unfortunate incident where his cat nearly ate him while he was in his animagus form. “sorry ma, i don’t love him any more. here. have him.”

peter is actually a solid cook. this is because he learned to make some basic food when he was still a kid, first with his grandma, and later on his own. he liked doing it for his mother and he was. .. good at it? peter is also just passionate about food and finds comfort in cooking. breakfast food and baked goods are Prime Food Categories.

he is asexual af, panromantic. has kissed both guys and gals and nb pals but did not like it??? confused. does not understand sexuality and all that jazz but tries not to think abt it because like! he’s got enough stress! doesnt need to think abt this!

peter is also agender, but i think he’s a lot less aware about this, because it’s confusing and so he just tries not to think about it. he does feel okay with he/him pronouns, but just doesn’t feel connected at all to being a boy/man

peter has abandonment issues because his dad, well, never even bothered to be there. not even for a second. he’s just constantly scared that people will leave and it’s funny, because he will probably end up abandoning all of his loved ones KDJFHSDF.

peter is quite non confrontational but also not … meek? he just avoids it, either by physically staying out of people’s way or by dismissing most of the things said and getting out of there. a Passive Kid. 

he’s such a fucking dork i swear to god. but he’s funny! peter is really funny. i deeply believe in this. he makes great puns and is able to just come out of nowhere and make a comment that just. hits the nail right on its head.

peter curses a lot and has a scottish accent and sometimes he will have a minute long cursing session that no one rly understands.

[mirandadrawss]

Chapter 1 Preview

 🕷😱

The scratch of hundreds of quills against rough parchment permeated the air around Obsidian. For what felt to him like the thousandth time, he dipped the tip of his Peregrine feather into the inkwell and swept his eyes over the final question.

Explain the importance of dialect and accents during incantations, including, how different accents affect a spell’s performance and if spells require variation based on region or location.

Oh boy, he thought. He fluffed the end of his quill against his temple as he struggled to recall the enthusiastic lectures of his Incantation professor. Obsidian had always had a hard time paying attention to the lectures about history and theory, in spite of Professor Drought’s passion. Drought fawned over the subject she taught and that carried over into her teaching style, but theory just wasn’t as intriguing as the practical application of magic. Why learn why something had to be said a certain way if you could just learn to say it right and have the spell work? And, while we’re complaining, why did everyone have to use quills? They were ridiculously expensive and ballpoint Bics worked just as well. Not to mention the incessant cacophony quills made when everyone was writing at the same time. Light from the runic stones floating overhead flickered off his indigo horns as he shook his head to himself. With a final dip into the ink, he began his answer.

When using incantations, the meaning and purpose of the Magikan is more important than the accent of the words.

It really irked him that he couldn’t just put Warlock, but the Inclusion Act the Academy had put into place required political correctness in all official schoolwork. As if someone would be offended by him writing about Warlocks specifically. Okay, they probably would be. But that wasn’t his problem. And come on, Magikans? Just because Magika was the official language of spells and basically anything magical they had to have the most stupid umbrella term for everyone who used it. He rolled his eyes and continued writing.

While pronunciation of the spell is still important, as long as the magic user holds firmly in their mind the end goal of the spell, the incantation will succeed regardless of the different accents that may be pronounced.

Sid read over the answer; not too shabby, and it might even be correct. He was at least 87 percent sure it was. He checked the pocket watch he’d laid out on his desk at the start of the exam, as black as his namesake, with molten hands that flowed around the face as the time passed. It’d been an early graduation gift from his mother, probably demonic in its design, but Sid absolutely loved it. Guess there were some perks from having a succubus as a mother. With fifteen minutes left until time was up, he put his quill back to the parchment and continued,

This only applies when using the universal language of magic, Magika, to speak the incantation. If a spell is spoken in the magic user’s native tongue, it will need to be read precisely and exactly.

Fanning the still wet ink with his hand, he chanced a glance a few tables to the left to where his best friend Chrysanthemum was sitting. She was sitting up straight, hands clasped in front of her, staring ahead. No surprise that she’d been done for a while, Chrys was the expert when it came to the theory of magic. And she was always so proper. Sid smiled to himself as he stacked his papers neatly and rolled them into a scroll, knotting some twine around the center. With a flourish of the Peregrine feather, he signed his name on the side of the scroll, Obsidian Damon Lux, and dropped his quill onto the desk, splotching it with remnants of ebony ink. Sid didn’t mind his name, all things considered. He was just grateful that his mother, Jezebeth, hadn’t named him Satan or Hell’s Son or something absurd like that. He was just loath to admit that his last name came from the Luxor hotel in Las Vegas where Jez had given birth, after yet another tryst with an unsuspecting mortal. Succubi becoming pregnant had been unheard of until Sid entered the picture. Most Warlocks were the product of male demons impregnating mortal women, but Jezebeth had been the exception. She didn’t even know who the father was, since she had no idea how long she was pregnant for and had been doing what succubi do best for the entire time; a profession she had kept up even with a child following her around. He’d been near enough to his mother’s seduction practices to be able to practice them himself had he wanted, and he’d spent most of his teen years in another dimension that was home to demons and the Dark Lord himself, to whom he’d conveniently been sworn during an anti-christening ceremony. But he was as normal as demon spawn come and had luckily been born with normal features, not counting the white-less violet eyes and the horns on his head that gleamed like the rock he was named after. Those features always seemed to get him the most friends when he was younger, at least until they introduced him to their parents. When he’d returned to the human dimension to start school, he got more hassle than he would have liked, so he’d taken to spiking his ash white hair and eventually dying it crazy colors to hide the protrusions on his head. He’d tried out sunglasses for a bit, but found that those brought an equal amount of stares, since no one really used sunglasses in the Portland gloom. Besides, Sid liked his eyes, and his true friends, like Chrys, had never seemed to mind.

“Quills down,” echoed the sharp caw of the exam proctor and almost instantly the scratching that had filled the air ceased. “Please leave your scrolls on your desk and exit the room. You will be informed of your results early this evening.”

If there was one thing that made a magic school better than regular university, it was that the grading was done by magic, which meant same day scores. Sid stood up and stretched, his back creaking like a storm-worn cellar door. He made his way towards the exit, detouring to fall into step beside the freckle-faced honey blonde female Sid called his best friend.

As if on cue, Chrys began her routine post-exam rant. “I really think I messed up that question about Werewolves and Vampires. And the one about staffs versus wands. I definitely failed. There’s no way they’ll award me my title. I’m going to have to retake this entire year! My apprenticeship will go down the drain and I’m going to look like an imbecile if I have to apply again.”

Sid sighed. He had nothing but love for the girl next to him, but she severely underestimated her smarts. He interrupted her panicked speech, “You did fine, Chrys. If even I feel like I’m going to pass, there’s no way in Hellatia that you failed.”

Sky-blue met black and violet as Chrys turned to look at Sid. Her nose was slightly crinkled in a look of consternation, but soon gave way to a grin. “Alright, alright, I suppose I can’t have done worse than a blockhead like you.” She pushed his shoulder playfully, a hint of longing flitting across her eyes. “I don’t know why you always say Hellatia. You could just say Hell like everyone else, silly.”

“But, for the fifty thousandth time, there’s not a place called Hell! Trust me, I spent way too much of my childhood in Hellatia and every”

“Every demon was very clear that Hell is not a place and they made sure that you knew it. I know, I know. I’ve heard you rant plenty of times. But even so, isn’t it easier to just say Hell? Even just as an abbreviation?” Sid opened his mouth to retort, but Chrys carried on with a grin, “So, where should we wait out the final scoring? The library?”

An exasperated sigh escaped Sid’s lips. “I don’t want to see the inside of a library for a century at least. And after that misery I could use a good burger. Shake Down sound good?”

Chrys gave a contemplative nod and they walked out the gates and past the ‘Portland Academy of Magic’ sign that morphed into ‘Portland Academy of Arts’ as they left the grounds and headed to their favorite restaurant.

“You know, once I’m actually a Warlock, I can glamour myself the way the school does so I don’t have to get stared at everywhere we go.” The two of them were standing in line, staring up at the menu above their heads, Sid trying to ignore the sidelong glances from everyone around him.

“Oh ya? You could just make everyone see a regular boring guy? Where would the fun be in that?” Chrys retorted. Sid was glad she didn’t mind the staring. They moved to the front of the line and the cashier, used to Sid’s slightly odd appearance, gave them a smile of recognition.

“The usual?” Ty the Shake Guy asked. That wasn’t really his title, but since becoming regulars, Sid and Chrys had dubbed him accordingly, seeing as he was there every time they came in. A synchronized nod came from the odd couple and Matt called back a triple decker, rare done, Avalanche burger, a double cheeseburger, and two chocolate and banana shakes.

Before Ty could tell them the total, Sid handed over the exact amount. “Pleasure doing business as usual sir,” Sid said, giving a mock salute. Chrys, polite as always, thanked Ty and they sat down to wait for their food. The adrenaline they’d felt from the exam drained from them as they sat down and a companionable silence took over until the food was brought to the booth. Sid’s order was an almost bleeding mess of patties and cheese and sauces barely staying on the bun and Chrys’s was a neat, normal, double cheeseburger. Chrys had somehow gotten used to Sid’s strange eating habits a while ago, but she did avoid looking directly at the monstrosity on his plate. Apparently growing up around demons gives you a preference for less cooked meat. Sid never really talked about how this had come about, and Chrys was wise enough to not ask.

The burgers were gone in a matter of seconds, leaving the two of them blissfully sipping their shakes. Chrys absentmindedly stared out the window, and the early summer sun glinted off her hair, haloing her in a golden aura. Sid looked up from the chocolate banana goodness, and broke the silence. “So what’re we going to do once we’re officially graduates?”

Chrys looked over at Sid, “You mean besides take over the world?” Laughter leaked out from both of them at their ongoing inside joke, and in between giggles, Chrys said “Well, I have a position with the Department of Magical Studies lined up. It might just be an apprenticeship, but I think it’s going to be a really great learning experience.” Chrys’s tone reflected the shadow that had crossed Sid’s face, “what is that look for?” “Well, um…I might have forgotten to look into something like that.” Sid trailed off and stared intently down his straw and braced himself.

“You didn’t find an apprenticeship?” Chrys gaped at him in disbelief. “They’ve been harping on us all year about that! It’s the most important part of our education. You can’t become a High Mage or Warlock or, well, anything, without it.”

More words spouted from Chrys, but Sid couldn’t hear them. He hadn’t purposely forgotten, he’d just assumed he’d have time. Even when Chrys was telling him about all of her interviews and offers she was receiving, he still thought he’d have more time. Funny how it always slips away like that. And now here he was, about to be an apprentice Warlock without an apprenticeship. Chrys was right, you couldn’t do much without completing an apprenticeship, at least not much legally. And being an unlicensed Warlock was definitely frowned upon, if not illegal in most cities.

“Sid, SID!” Sid was pulled from his pool of inner turmoil as Chrys laid a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder. “You stopped listening to me didn’t you.”

He looked up at her, her face a mask of freckled concern. “Ya. Sorry. I totally spaced getting something figured out. I just, I thought I would have more time. What am I gonna do? My mom’s already going to be disappointed if she finds out I’m not going to be performing blood sacrifices to the Dark Lord every day, let alone if I’m not even a real Warlock. What do I do?” He really didn’t know and he looked pathetically across the table at his best friend who had everything figured out. And while he hated asking for help, he was at a loss.

Chrysanthemum straightened into her take-charge stance and in one smooth arc she was out of the booth and dragging Sid with her. “We’ve got to check the bulletin board. There’s got to be a Master Warlock who’s as much of a procrastinator as you are.” As she went on listing all of her backup, last ditch, worst case scenario, contingency plans, Sid brightened as much as an almost Warlock with no prospects being dragged down the street by his best friend could. Leave it to Chrys to be willing to figure out plans A through Z, even if it was his own fault. It was something he loved about her. She was so selfless and willing to help anyone who needed it, especially the people she cared about.

They didn’t slow until they were nose to nose with the bulletin board just inside the massive oak doors of the school. Now this wasn’t just any bulletin board. It was The Bulletin Board. In addition to being the center for local posts, it was a magical conduit for Magikans around the world. Similar boards existed in nearly every magical loci, whether a school or government base, even some select personal facilities could have access to it. A Magikan could post something on a board in one place and the same post would be reflected on the board in all relevant locations. It was by far, the best place to look for apprenticeship availabilities so of course this was where Chrys and Sid found themselves.

To both their disappointments, the board was sparse. An ad for some used textbooks, a tutor request and a lost familiar sign were all that lingered on the magical surface. The blossoming hope that Sid had felt at Chrys’s enthusiasm died as he stared at the empty board. Nothing. Not a single job posting of any kind. He could feel the sinking of Chrys’s mood as she stood next to him. “Well, we could…,” Chrys struggled to come up with an alternate option. Sid knew she’d been counting on the board, even with all of the backup plans she’s been coming up with on the way here.

“It’s fine Chrys. I’ll figure something out, promise.” He strained a smile as the halls around them filled with a familiar cawing voice.

“Attention all students. Final grades are now available in the Grand Hall. Report there to pick up your reports. If this is your final year, please also be prepared to submit your apprenticeship acquisition forms to the advisors upon receipt of your final report. That is all.” With a squawk, the voice was gone and a feeling of dread began creeping up from Sid’s feet.

“They need the apprenticeship information now?” He squeaked, looking exasperatedly at Chrys. “What are they going to do if I don’t have anything?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t think they need it right away,” she hesitated. “They just want to make sure they get things in order sooner than later. I’m sure they’ll have some good advice for students that don’t have anything lined up. Ya, let’s go now. Then we can get you in to talk to someone before everyone else storms the hall.” And without further preamble, she headed down the cavernous hallway towards the Grand Hall, purpose echoing in every step.

“Okay, I guess that’s,” Sid started to say, but cut off as a shred of hope flickered into existence on the bulletin board. He grabbed the paper as soon as it had fully materialized and read it closely.

Apprentice needed. Practical skills a necessity. Be prepared to demonstrate these during interview. Report to Devlin Smokeshard at 98 E NE Street between 4PM and 8PM on the 21st of May.

Sid stared at the scrap in his hand in disbelief. Today was the 21st. Digging his empty hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled his pocket watch out and checked the time. 4:30. This had to be the best luck Sid had ever had, even over the time he’d gotten out of a presentation on fungi because he had ingested some of the sample he’d been reporting on and ended up with a terrible flu for a week. If he left now, he could hopefully make it back before anyone noticed, and with a job to boot. Sid turned on his heel and headed back through the Academy doors, pulling up the UrWay app on his phone and ordering a ride share to take him to his lifesaver.

Thanks to traffic, it was an hour later when they arrived at the address, a run down looking building with a solitary, cracked, street light at the end of the front walk. Sid got more than the usual weird look from his driver as he stepped out and looked around. The car sped off in a squeal of tires as he took in just how terrible the place looked. Weeds sprouted from every crack in the walkway and vines covered the front wall of the house entirely. The one window he saw was cracked and on the whole, it had the appearance of a ‘condemned for the past hundred years' building. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw the streetlight flicker purple as he walked past, but he chalked it up to his nerves. “Well, I don’t really have a better option do I?” He asked no one in particular as he made his way to the front door. When he raised his hand to knock, the door opened wide on its own and Sid jumped about a foot in the air.

The view of the inside wasn’t much of an improvement. Everything looked moth eaten, moldy and termite ridden. Or at least what Sid assumed termite ridden wood looked like. He supposed this was what he got for putting it off so long. Of course he’d end up apprenticing in a garbage heap. He took one last gulp of fresh air and stepped over the threshold.

[knifeshoeoreofight]

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Finding S and Magda is easy after that. The process almost becomes routine, if teaching ASL to a fairytale could ever be considered routine. They pack up, and head out to where Magda’s tag was last pinged. S usually finds them after that. 

Zhenya knows that there’s an expiration date on this, that eventually, when her calf is strong enough, Magda will have to swim north to her feeding grounds. She, like other humpback mothers, will barely eat the entire time she’s in tropical waters raising her baby. She needs to get back to the food-rich northern waters or she’ll starve. 

Zhenya doesn’t know what Sid will do then, or what Zhenya’s going to do, for that matter. He tries not to think too much about it, or about all the research he’s not doing, the funding that’s steadily running out. One day at a time, he tells himself. No one’s ever had an opportunity like this before. He has to make the most of it.

S’s vocabulary continues to expand. Geno scrambles to keep up, googling language learning theory late into the night, feverishly combing YouTube for ASL instruction videos.

They’re currently working on colors. Geno doesn’t even know how S sees color, but he does learn a lot when he tries to teach S the sign for “blue.”

Word? S asks, pointing at the blue stripe painted around the boat.

Blue, Zhenya tells him.

S points at the water around them.

Blue, Zhenya repeats. S makes a “wow, okay, no” kind of face. He points at the sky.

Blue, Zhenya says again. S rolls his eyes. He starts pointing at blue things and making a different sound for each. So Geno has to teach him a few modifiers before he’s content: “gray,” and “green,” and “light” and “dark.” It makes sense, Zhenya figures. These are the colors that make up the greater part of S’s world.

S remains dissatisfied with the limited human expression of color, but his fascination with humans themselves doesn’t abate. He shows a marked preference for interacting with Geno, but seems to like Letang and Fleury well enough, especially Fleury. Fleury is the one who decides that they can’t keep calling him “S.” He runs a whole gamut of names starting with “s” past him, and S makes faces at them all, until Fleury tries out “Sid.” That one is met with a shrug and a thumbs up, so “Sid” he becomes.

Sid brings them a fish one day, a beautiful yellowfin tuna, easily a meter long. He heaves it onto the dive platform with pride, then pats its glistening, iridescent side.

E, he says. You like.

Zhenya blinks. Yesterday had included a long conversation on food likes and dislikes, Zhenya talking to Sid while Letang scribbled down data on merpeople’s dietary habits and Fleury googled frantically to try and identify the species Sid was talking about.

Zhenya, for reasons he’s not. Thinking. About. feels his face flush a little. “Yes,” he says and signs at the same time. “I like fish.”

This one. Good? Sid asks.

“Very good. Best.”

“Awww, Geno got a present,” Fleury laughs. “What about me, Sid?” Fish for Flower? He asks, using the sign he’s chosen for himself.

You eat fins, head, Sid tells him, smirking. He looks back to Zhenya, smirk softening. He pats the fish again and looks encouragingly at him.

Oh no, Zhenya realizes. He’s waiting for Zhenya to try it. Right here. On the boat. Raw. Zhenya’s a big sushi fan but there’s a difference between a pretty, delicate slice of sashimi and a whole massive fucking fish, lying bleeding at your feet while a hopeful looking merman blinks up at you, waiting for you to tuck in, apparently.

“Give me my dive knife,” he sighs at Fleury, and with some difficulty, manages to hack off a piece of the yellowfin. Sid watches intently as Zhenya takes a bite.

It’s fresher than the best sushi he’s ever eaten, and it’s actually, gory acquisition aside, kind of incredible. “Wow,” he says. “It’s delicious.” He makes the sign for Sid.

Delicious is very good, for food, he tells him.

I’m happy, Sid tells him. Eat more?

And that’s how Zhenya ends up sitting with his feet in the ocean, hacking pieces of raw tuna off its carcass and sharing them with a merman. And eventually Letang and Fleury, once he convinces Sid to share. He grins at nothing in particular, and wonders how this is his life.

The tuna opens the floodgates, apparently. Sid starts bringing him things. One day it’s a smooth, fist-sized cowrie shell, another it’s a enormous living conch. Zhenya thanks him for that one, puts it in a cooler full of seawater, and sets the cumbersome mollusk free once they’re back to the shallows. The handful of pretty calico scallop shells he receives a few days later, he keeps.

Sid kept some for himself as well, and spends an afternoon deftly knotting them into a sort of necklace using strands from one of their ropes that he cajoles Zhenya into giving him.

No shells these north, S tells them, tying the necklace around his neck and looking pleased with himself. His syntax gets a little creative sometimes.

“Very pretty,” Zhenya signs and tells him. At Sid’s confused look he explains. “Pretty is ‘good,’ for your eyes.”

“Beautiful is very pretty,” Letang helpfully supplies. Sid nods, taking it all in.

When Letang and Fleury are occupied with something else, Sid looks at the movement of Zhenya’s hands as he signs and tells him: your words are beautiful.

Zhenya’s heart thuds painfully. “Word?” he says out loud, hands stilling in surprise.

No, Sid says, and reaches out to tap a finger on the back of Zhenya’s hand. These.

“Oh,” Zhenya says out loud, and suddenly he can’t look at Sid, his chest tight and aching. Sid trills softly in concern, until Zhenya looks up at him.

E? You good? He asks. Zhenya can only swallow, and nod.

Sid’s sitting on the dive platform as he often does, and Zhenya’s suddenly aware of how close they are.

Pretty? Sid asks, and Zhenya nearly dies before he sees Sid follow the question with a touch to his new necklace.

Yes, he replies.

Beautiful, Sid says, reaching out to touch the gold chain Zhenya always wears, looking ever so slightly wistful.

Recklessly, Geno unclasps his chain, letting the gold links slither into his palm. Feeling foolish and helpless, he holds it out to Sid.

Sid’s eyes go wide, and he reaches out to take the chain carefully, gaze a little disbelieving. He lets the chain slide through his fingers, and holds it up to watch the sun wink off of it.

“Here,” Zhenya says, his voice rough. He take it, and lays it around Sid’s neck, doing up the clasp in the back. He runs a finger down it, straightening out the kinks. Sid is making a soft hum in his throat, and his eyes are big and dark. He looks down at the chain shining against his skin, and touches it. Zhenya wants to give him a dozen necklaces, drape him in gold, just to see that soft look of wonder in his eyes again.

Sid reaches up and unties the shell necklace from around his neck, and before Zhenya can move, he’s leaning in close to tie it around Zhenya’s. Zhenya can feel the warmth of his skin, can see the kaleidoscope of color in his eyes. A bead of water slides from his drying hair down his cheek, to the corner of his full, perfect lips.  

What the hell is Zhenya doing. What the hell is he allowing himself to feel? He should, if he had any integrity or sense, stop this. Shut down...whatever this is. God, Sid’s not even the same species as he is.

Instead he looks at the soft, pleased smile on Sid’s face, and feels powerless to do anything that would chase it away.

Fleury takes a long look at the shells around Zhenya’s neck during their boat ride back to the marina.

“You should be careful, man. It’s like...I don’t know. All these presents he brings you. You don’t know what they mean in his culture. And now you gave him something back. For all you know, that’s like, getting engaged or something.” Zhenya’s cheeks go flame-hot.

“Don’t be stupid,” He tells Fleury, but inside he think that he’s the stupid one here, probably.

***

He dreams of Sid that night. Dreams about running into him on the street, dreams about him walking up to Zhenya with that smile of his. On two legs and two feet. He dreams that he speaks to him in Russian.

“You like me, don’t you?” Dream-Sid says, with an accent so perfect he sounds like he was born a street away from Zhenya. “You like me.”

Dream-Zhenya opens his mouth and tries to say something back, to protest,  but all that comes out is a series of trills and clicks, like the sounds real Sid makes.

“Oh,” Dream Sid says, face slowly going terrible and cold. 

“I don’t understand you. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

[captainofthefallen]

OC Interview

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same. (Tag as many as you wish) Leaving this as an open tag, feel free to do it if you want! 

I’m stealing an open tag from @queen-scribbles because I want to talk about Corda more (to nobody’s surprise) (I may have done this before but I think it was for Mara so I’m safe) 

1. What is your name?

She eyes you somewhat warily. “Corda.” 

2. Do you know why you are named that?

“Because of this.” She reaches for her left wrist and twists a simple cord bound around it. She doesn’t elaborate. 

3. Are you single or taken?

Her suspicious look intensifies. “...taken.” 

4. Have any abilities or powers?

“I could punch you into next week.” She says it matter-of-factly. “Also this.” She holds up her hand (her left hand--her right is made of metal) and focuses for a moment. Blue-white light flares up around it, almost like a flame. Again, she doesn’t elaborate. 

5. Stop being a Mary sue.

She frowns. “A what?” 

6. What’s your eye color?

“Brown.” 

7. How about your hair color?

Her eyes dart upward as though to check, and she blows scraggly bangs out of her face. “Also brown.” 

8. Have any family members?

“Blood family? No. Wait. Maybe? It’s complicated.” 

9. Oh? How about pets?

"I was a corpse until a couple months ago. Animals tend to be put off by that.” 

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

“Assholes who think it’s a good idea to kill the world to draw the energy out of the elemental planes.” Again, she doesn’t elaborate. 

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

She frowns for a moment. “Haven’t had time for hobbies in a while. Mostly I just try to spend time with the people who matter to me.” 

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

Her expression darkens. “Plenty.” 

13. Ever…killed anyone before?

She nods once. 

14. What kind of animal are you?

Her brow furrows. “Like... one I identify with? Never thought about it. Try asking Kaimi, I’m sure she’ll have some idea.” 

15. Name your worst habits.

She shrugs. “I’m bad at communicating, does that count?” 

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

"Yes.” When you’re clearly expecting more of an answer, she’ll add, “Kaimi. Talon. My teacher.” 

17. Are you gay, straight, or bisexual?

She shrugs. “I love Ghazril. Never thought about it beyond that.” 

18. Did you attend school?

“No.”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

She looks surprised by the question. “Never been asked that before. I don’t think I’d be a very good parent. But marriage... I want to stay with Ghazril until the day I die. That’s basically what that means, isn’t it?” 

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Not that I’m aware of? Well, I suppose if Tharv qualifies, but he’s more a fan of the group in general than me specifically. Also most of the population of Daedos, seeing as we saved their asses. Kale’qualas too, come to think of it.” 

21. What are you most afraid of?

She hesitates. “Someone controlling me.” Another pause. “Losing Ghazril again. Or her losing me.” 

22. What do you usually wear?

She gestures to her clothing--loose-fitting martial arts garb. 

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

She thinks for a moment. “Haven’t had much time to try a lot of foods,” she admits. “Most of it has been rations, since I started having to eat. Kaimi made cake once.” 

24. Am I annoying you?

She raises an eyebrow. “If that’s what you’re going for, you’ll have to try harder.” 

25. Well, it’s not over!

“All right?” 

26. What class are you (Low/middle/high)?

“Initially? Lowest of the damn low. Now? I don’t know, what class are you if you’re in a group of heroes who live in the upstairs of a shop run by a Beholder when you’re not traveling?” 

27. How many friends do you have?

She smiles in spite of herself. “Several. The others in the group, Tharv, Ghazril, Sid, Semaj... even Keung qualifies at this point.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

Her eyebrows go up. “Never had pie. I’ll ask Kaimi next time we’re not in the middle of a crisis.” 

29. Favorite drink?

She thinks for a moment. “Never really had any--at least that I could taste--but water and some weird orcish ale. Some of the undead would drink acid in bars but I was never really part of the community like that.” 

30. What’s your favorite place?

"Wherever my friends are.” 

31. Are you interested in anyone?

"......Fairly sure I’ve already given myself away on that one.” 

32. That was a stupid question…

She pauses. “You said it, not me.” 

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Never been in a lake. Only been in the ocean twice--the first time we were marooned on an island by a water elemental leviathan, and the second time we were trying to invade an island prison, so I didn’t really have time to appreciate the scenery.” 

34. What’s your type?

“Ghazril.” A pause. She sighs. “She listens. She’s clever. She understands doing what needs to be done, and she won’t judge me for it.” She smiles a little. “She trusts me. And she makes me feel like I matter.” Raises an eyebrow. “That enough to go on?” 

35. Any fetishes?

“Any what?”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“I’m... not sure I understand the question. I didn’t really camp before I had companions, except when I was traveling with Tr--with my teacher. Didn’t need to. I suppose I don’t have a preference.” 

(no, she really doesn’t know what fetishes are. She only recently learned what sex is. Not super relevant when you’re a corpse.) 

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

OC Interview

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same. (Tag as many as you wish) Leaving this as an open tag, feel free to do it if you want!

@captainofthefallen said anyone could do this and well since she did her D&D character and mentioned mine in her interview I just have to share Kaimi now by default.

(Kaimi’s physical features are based on Keisha Castle Hughes.)

1. What is your name?

She holds out her hand for you to shake. “Kaimi.” Her tone and smile are warm, but also a little businesslike. She has an Irish accent, and there is something very grounded about her, even though she seems relaxed.

2. Do you know why you are named that?

“My name means the seeker. I was never sure why I was called that, since I never knew my parents. I was an orphan of the Empire. But recently I’ve learned things that make me wonder... if I was named that so I could seek out my people.”

3. Are you single or taken?

She blushes and smiles. “Taken.”

4. Have any abilities or powers?

She shakes her head. “Unless you count rounding up these numbskulls as a special ability... not really?”

5. Stop being a Mary sue.

“Sorry, my name is Kaimi, K-A-I-M-I.”

6. What’s your eye color?

Brown.

7. How about your hair color?

Brown.

8. Have any family members?

Biological, not that I know of. But I have my mother, who raised me, and my many siblings from the orphanage, and Sid, Alvyn, and Zia, my... well not officially adopted but my adopted children. Corda and Tharv feel like family. Corda’s my best friend.

9. Oh? How about pets?

She holds up a rather large dog. It looks like a husky, except there are three heads where there should be one. All three heads pant happily. “This is Cuchulain, he’s my baby boy. Raised him from a pup.” She puts the dog down and pets his heads. “And then there’s Thunder, my gray render.” She gestures to a large... something, a creature that’s like a cross between a jacked up hippo and a gorilla, with large rows of sharp teeth and yellow spider eyes.

The animal, Thunder, bellows gently and licks Kaimi with his large tongue. Kaimi laughs. “And then there’s Scales.”

“Fuck you!” an Australian-accented voice yells from offscreen.

“Kidding!” Kaimi replies cheerfully.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

Kaimi’s eyes get very hard and dark. “Wizards,” she says, her tone as light and sharp as a glass dagger. She does not elaborate.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“I cook. I’m not too bad at it, if I may say so myself. Parenting this lot, which isn’t so much a hobby as a full-time job.”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

“Yes.” Again, she does not elaborate. There is a heaviness to her tone.

13. Ever…killed anyone before?

“When I had to.” She pauses. “It’s not something I overall enjoy. But it comes with the territory, you know.”

14. What kind of animal are you?

Kaimi brightens. “Oh, I love these questions! I think I would be a capybara. They adopt animals that aren’t their own and mother them. They’re highly social and I think they’re quite cute. And they’re herbivores!”

15. Name your worst habits.

Kaimi chews on her bottom lip. Her voice, when she speaks, is a bit dull, as though she does not like to speak of this. “I’ll do anything to protect my family. Sometimes that means I can be... overzealous. And I’m... I’m rather cold-hearted. I try not to be. But I’ve manipulated people before, to achieve my goals. And I don’t regret it. I plan to do it again. To eliminate the Empire...” She shrugs. “I’ll do whatever it takes. And if that means lying or killing the right people or whatever in order to get it to fall... then that’s the price I pay. I’m a mastermind. It’s what I’m good at--not just people but, getting people to believe me and do what I say.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“My mother,” she says without skipping a beat. “She went through so much, lost two loves of her life, her son, raised this orphanage all by herself... she’s the strongest, kindest person I know.”

17. Are you gay, straight, or bisexual?

Kaimi cocks her head to the side, an amused smile on her face. “I think you’re forgetting a few. Asexual, demisexual... but for the record, I’m bisexual.”

18. Did you attend school?

“Not as such, although Mother would teach us all, we had lessons every day.”

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

There is a crash from another room, followed by a teenage male voice and a woman in her twenties both yelling, “EVERYTHING’S FINE!” simultaneously.

Kaimi sighs. “I think I’ve got enough kids already, don’t you?

“As for marriage... Talon isn’t... we haven’t really... it’s not. We’re not. Typical. I don’t know if we’d ever have a proper ceremony or anything. But I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and that’s what matters.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“I’m... what? What are those?”

21. What are you most afraid of?

“Losing the people I love.” That hard look enters her eyes again. “But it won’t come to that.” Her voice is once again light and sharp.

22. What do you usually wear?

Kaimi gestures at herself. “This.” She’s wearing light armor, well made, out of a metal that is both dark and shining. It was clearly made just for her, tailored to her body. “Talon made it for me. Along with these.” She pats the daggers at her hips. “It was his first gift to me.” Her voice shines with affection.

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“My mother’s soup, oh my Guides, you need to try it.”

24. Am I annoying you?

“Not at all!”

25. Well, it’s not over!

Kaimi laughs. “Keep firing away, then!”

26. What class are you (Low/middle/high)?

“I was an orphan, so, quite low on the totem pole in the Empire. Now, I’m not sure. What class are hero-adventurers?”

27. How many friends do you have?

“Not many, but they’re good ones. Corda, Tharv, Ghazril, Keung... Scales when he’s not annoying me... So just the five, I suppose.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Pie is absolutely delish. Did you ask Corda about this? Is this why she’s asking me about pie?”

29. Favorite drink?

“A good red wine. People actually tend to assume I’m a lightweight.” Kaimi winks at you. “They’d be wrong.”

30. What’s your favorite place?

“It’s a tie. My mother’s orphanage, where I grew up, or...” Kaimi blushes, looking down at her fingers. “My bedroom with Talon, in Tharv’s shop.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

Kaimi yells into another room. “Talon? Would you say I’m interested in you?”

“I assume so?” is the reply. “I mean if not that makes all the sex and love declarations kind of awkward.”

32. That was a stupid question…

Kaimi smirks. “Yes. Yes it was.”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“I’ve never been to a lake, actually. I suppose the ocean, then. I’d like to try a lake, though.”

34. What’s your type?

“If we’re looking at my track record, psychopaths.”

35. Any fetishes?

“Now, now, you’ll have to buy me dinner first before you can ask those kind of questions.”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“Isn’t camping and outdoors the same thing?” Kaimi stands up, brushing off her lap. “It was lovely talking to you. Feel free to stop by any time. Don’t mind the Beholder, Tharv’s lovely and he won’t eat you.” She winks, and walks off to investigate the suspicious crashing from a few moments ago.

[gay4eraser]

For that good good doc sic, 11 - 13, 16, 25, 28, 34, 35, 36, 40, 48, 49, 50

the good boi under the cut!!!

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies? 

Nope! He gets sick easily and has VERY bad reactions to poison ivy or oak, but otherwise nothing really. He’ll eat whatever is put in front of him because he knows what it’s like to have nothing. And as a burgeoning nutritionist, he’s very aware of what’s healthy or not, so he tries to eat healthy when he can. 

12. What is their favourite food? 

Honestly? Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. His favorite is funky flavors of jelly that aren’t usually found in stores. 

13. What is their least favourite food?

He’s not a fan of sweets but again, he’ll eat anything that’s put in front of him. 

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

Sic doesn’t collect anything really, he was homeless for a portion of his childhood and is too used to living frugally and on the run somewhat. He likes collecting silly straws for Sidney when he can though. Now that he has a place to live and is an adult with income, he’s slowly learning to pick up things that he thinks are neat. 

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

He’s not really a very cheerful person but he thinks it’s hilarious when people get what’s coming to them. Morbidly so. On the rare occasion you can get him to laugh it’s a quiet snort giggle or a sardonic chuckle. 

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Sic’s always nervous and anxious, and he should probably be on meds and/or therapy for that, but medical costs yo. Sic’s greatest fear is someone taking Sideny away or hurting him for things Sid did in the past or might unknowingly do in the future. His greatest fear USED to be his parents, but well... he fixed that lol. 

Sic’s always scared so he’s always hunched in on himself, always shy, always quiet, always very timid. He’s especially scared of adults and of people paying attention to him in any way. 

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body? 

Sic is soooo small lmao, he grew up kind of malnutritioned and also genetically really late puberty meaning he only just started hitting some growth spurts. He doesn’t even have facial hair and is only JUST starting to get acne at 21. He looks like he could be in school with Izuku lmao. 

He’s only about 5′4″ and usually looks smaller because he slouches and hunches in on himself. He’s got a lot of scars and physical reminders of his times on the streets so, no, he doesn’t much care for his body. However he certainly TAKES care of his body. He washes very carefully and is very fastidious about his appearance and cleanliness. 

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure? 

Sic doesn’t much have a guilty pleasure so much as his unguilty pleasure that he’s extremely shy about. He plays the piano and loves to sing. 

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Sic’s pretty average at anything he tries, which is a talent in and off itself, though some don’t see it that way. His hobbies mostly include reflexive survival habits and singing/humming. 

He is very, very, very good at singing. His piano playing is kinda real rusty but his voice is super soft and smooth and when he’s singing he knows exactly what lyrics he’s using, so he doesn’t stutter. Music is a Huge part of his life and is insanely important to him and you’ll regularly find him humming or singing softly to himself and then stammering and running away shyly. 

Present Mic manages to get him to join karaoke night One time and everyone cries because turns out this boy can sing Very Loud if he needs to. Guess what binches he’s operatically trained. He’s got lungs. He prefers softer songs though. The kinds that make the whole room cry from sad feelings 

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert? 

He can’t STAND energy drinks and is iffy on coffee. He’s a Brit, born and first raised, so he loves a nice cup of tea but not with sugar and not for the caffeine. He’s a nervous sleeper. He can fall asleep anywhere but wake up in a heartbeat. He doesn’t get much real sleep unless Sidney’s there to trade off with him in shifts.   

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? 

O o f, he’s so shy and timid, parties terrify him. And formal fancy ones are hell and he will parkour out of them in a heartbeat. If he’s at a party, he’s been dragged there forcefully and held at gunpoint. You Can’t get him to stay at parties. 

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them? 

Wellll, Sidney’s his Most Important Thing, though Sid’s not really an object. But Sic loves his knives. They’re some rickety old daggers he’s had for years and if he could he’d take them everywhere. Unfortunately he’s not allowed. 

...doesn’t mean he doesn’t sneak them in everywhere when he can though. They’re kind of his comfort item, ready to protect himself with them. 

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Food, Sidney medications, Sidney foods, water, money, hygiene items, some clothes, a file for Sid’s spikes, extra pair of shoes... anything more depends on how big the bag is, does it have room for a first aid kit? Neosporin? Bandages and bandaids? He’s a survivalist, he’ll make the most of anything. 

[smollandtoll]

HC: Weatherman AU

In a universe in which Sid owns a bakery and does a lot of the baking, his life is made up of very early mornings (gotta get that dough in the oven and things!) and he gets in the habit of watching the evening weather forecast religiously as he gets ready for bed so he’s prepared for the morning in advance. It’s nice to know if it’s going to be raining when he’s heading out of the door at 4:30 in the morning, or if he’s going to need to kick up the air conditioning at noon so the whole kitchen isn’t an oven by mid-afternoon.

When the new weatherman shows up with a range of impeccable coats and massive umbrellas held in even more massive hands he’s, shall we say, even more invested. Geno is tall and smart and built, and has a friendly but occasionally teasing persona that is only accentuated by his charming russian accent while he banters with the evening news anchors. He seems to love weather with a passion, he’s excited to report on snow while dressed in a parka on a street corner, or wearing short sleeves on sunny mornings, or cooing at dogs and children in raincoats splashing in parks on rainy days. He looks adorable in toques, and hot as fire in sunglasses. 

There was even one day when he was in skates, delivering the weather report for the upcoming winter classic right from the rink, skating smoothly backwards away from the camera and clearly having the time of his life.

Sid watches mesmerized whenever Geno’s in the studio and pointing out where the cold fronts are coming in across the country. Motioning with lazy, elegant fingers to where pockets of rain may develop, holding the clicker casually in his hand, shifting his weight from leg to leg, making his hips sway and drawing Sid’s attention to his impossible backside in his finely tailored dress pants when he turns to point.

The bio beside his smiling headshot on the news station website says he likes to cloud gaze, take long runs with his dog, get caught in the rain, play hockey, and sleep in.

Sid thinks he might be perfect.

Sid: He's like a beautiful russian weather-reporting Clark Kent...

Flower: What are you even talking about?

So basically Sid’s “celebrity crush” is definitely their local evening weatherman and it’s like the best known thing in his circle of friends because it’s infinite chirping material. But Sid definitely only thinks of him as a celebrity, as untouchable as the rest of the elite with their blue check marks beside their usernames.

That’s why when Geno comes stumbling into the bakery one late morning, sweaty from a run Sid doesn’t know what to do at all so he just STARES GOBSMACKED. Geno is SO TALL, AND HIS FLUSH IS SO ATTRACTIVE. Sid’s never seen him look truly human before with stubble and sweat when usually he’s coming through a TV screen made up and hairsprayed. Now he’s surveying their display cases wearing a backwards ball cap and an underarmor shirt with gym shorts and sneakers and Sid thinks he might be having a stroke.

"You have bagels?" Geno is looking at Sid like he’s a little dumb maybe, but in a kind way? He has kind eyes. Sid abruptly snaps back into the present and realizes he’s been standing there staring with his tray in his hand for too long and Geno may have asked him the question about bagels more than once.

"Oh. Of course, yes. " He shows Geno to the end display where the bagels live, ready to be cut and filled with whatever cream cheese you wanted.

And Geno does want, he orders an everything bagel with french onion cream cheese and Sid prepares it and hands it over with as much efficiency as possible, sliding into “baking robot” mode as Flower likes to call it.

Geno is still paying when he takes his first bite and moans appreciatively. Sid focuses on his register and tries to ignore the flush he feels through his face and ears, likely making him ferociously pink.

“You big weather fan?” Geno asks with a smirk, like he knows exactly what’s happening here and Sid shrugs, not wanting to say it’s not exactly the forecast that keeps him coming back. Geno just licks some cream cheese from the corner of his mouth obscenely and smiles knowingly at Sid as he backs out of the bakery.

And then Geno becomes like a regular and Sid dies a little. He stops by the bakery most days after his late morning run looking for breakfast. Usually it’s something hearty like a bagel or a cheese twist but occasionally his eyes sparkle and he goes for a fruit pastry and eats it right there in front of Sid. The flaky pastries breaking into small chunks that stick to his fingers, tormenting Sid as he sucks them clean.

Geno is not put together at all when he's not on the news, Sid learns. He’s got thinning hair a little bit, and he forgets non-weather-related words maybe too often, his accent thicker when it’s not being professionally polished into practised 5-minute soundbites. Sometimes on weekends he seems to roll out of bed and straight into the shop without the run first and shows up with soft sleepy eyes, pillow-creased and messy-haired.

And for some reason he seems to have taken a shine to Sid, possibly partly because Sid, while no longer quite so nervous with him, shows him obvious preferential treatment. He even started including one of their homemade dog cookies into Geno’s morning order once he realized that Geno was leaving his massive pooch outside with water while he came into the bakery.

Basically Sid’s crush can maybe be seen from space, it’s embarrassing and he can’t stop at all. Sid doesn’t know how to do anything without doing it 200%. One summer as a teenager he decided to start making his own bread and now here he is, almost fifteen years later, owning his own moderately successful bakery.

In any case maybe all the awkward involuntary flirting was the point, because Sid is once again completely at a loss when Geno leans against the display case one morning (despite Sid telling him every time he does that he has to clean marks off of it), pillows his chin on his forearms and asks Sid on a date.

“Just say yes Sid. Not hard question.” Geno looks at him so fondly. Sid tries to fight his smile but just ends up swaying closer to the display case and grinning wider.

“Yes?” Geno asks him reaching over to dust a bit of flour off Sid’s cheek.

“For sure. Any time.”

Unfortunately any time is more like never because Geno soon realizes their schedules don’t match up even a little bit. Sid goes to bed while Geno is still at work in the evening. And Geno is asleep when Sid starts to work. Geno still comes in after morning runs but the bakery is busy and Sid can rarely spend much time with him. There’s a shaky window in the afternoon where they both don’t technically have obligations but Sid usually spends that time running errands and Geno usually uses it for research and prep for the evening. The days that Sid has off - Sundays and Mondays are ideal, but other previous obligations for their time keep them apart even then. Geno has friends in town, Sid has a visit home planned in advance, it seems like it never works out.

Geno’s so frustrated after a month of trying to sort their schedules out, that he marches in one morning and heads straight to the back of the counter and ambushes Sid right there, taking his face in gentle hands and kissing him soundly.

“Afraid we never go on date.” he’d say mournfully, sweeping the pads of his thumbs over the arches of Sid’s cheeks.

“We’ll sync up eventually.” Sid has faith, and indeed they do manage to have a bLISSFUL date together, what ends up being a picnic in the park with frisbee and Geno’s dog bouncing chaotically between them on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

In the meantime they text, and Geno’s visits to the bakery become stretched and ridiculous, loitering around watching Sid fetch people muffins and loaves of sourdough through obvious and shameless heart eyes.

It probably really bothers Geno a lot more than Sid. Sid is okay with a quiet love, with seeing Geno on his TV and feeling comforted by his (now) weird news voice. So it definitely comes as a surprise one day as Sid’s brushing his teeth with the news playing that he hears a familiar voice saying he’s no longer going to be working the evening news slot.

“We’ll be so sad to see you go!”

“Hate mornings, but must do!”

His fellow anchors rib him a bit more about moving to the morning news slot while Sid sits heavily on the end of his bed, toothbrush hanging forgotten from his lips.

“Must do for love! My boyfriend is very talented baker. I never get to see him because our schedules are not compatible.” Geno says it so casually, like he hasn’t just completely upended his life for Sid, and then didn’t even tell him.

The segment ends and slides seamlessly into some prime time comedy, Sid finishes brushing his teeth and when he plugs his phone in as he tucks himself in he finds a text waiting for him.

>> You watch tonight?

<< I can’t believe you did that. Don’t you hate mornings more than anything?

>> Move to mornings for you. Hate mornings, yes, less than I love you though. Worth it.

So Geno goes about completely flipping his schedule over and hates his life for a good long while, but it allows them to wake up at the same time and be together in the afternoons

He consoles himself with the thought that now every day he gets to see Sid lever himself out of bed naked and go through his meticulous morning routine. They get to curl up together in puddles of afternoon light, and go grocery shopping when there are no lines, take the dog to the park, and have ridiculous early dinners before anyone else is even at the restaurants.

And of course he'd forever hold it over Sid's head that he did this for him for LOVE and at least a dozen "I'm not getting out of bed for anything less than a BJ." BJs.

BUT THEY ARE SO HAPPY, EVEN WHEN IT RAINS.

PHOTO SOURCE (because we can’t see the original)

[ginger-gwaine]

Creating Healthy Sleeping Patterns In Your Children

Healthy sleep patterns can go quite far towards impacting how savvy a kid is the point at which he grows up. Showing him right sleep while still in his outset will help support click here to learn more his insight later. You can affect your kid's psychological capacities significantly through the sleep patterns he gets from you as his parents.

In Search Of Good Sleep Patterns For The Little Ones

Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child creator Dr. Marc Weissbluth took advantage of information acquired by Dr. Lewis M. Terman for his review. It was 1925 when Terman finished his examination, yet his discoveries remain generally used and cited even today. He tried almost 3,000 kids utilizing the Stanford-Binet Intelligence Test. One commonality was noted among profoundly wise young people. Every one of them followed healthy nightly sleep patterns.

Exhaustion can cause kids to appear to be colicky, become cantankerous, hypertensive, touchy, fastidious, and eat and concentrate ineffectively. Certain examinations even accept there is an association between the developing ADHD determination rate and fatigue. Having accomplished a superior appreciation for good sleep patterns, it is currently time to find out about stuff that could disrupt a kid's embracing satisfactory patterns.

Nursing ought not be utilized to get children to sleep. You will just make your kids subject to nursing to have the option to sleep. Inside this kind of circumstance, they neglect to find and practice approaches to nodding off without outside help.

In the mean time, putting kids in bed with their parents presents mental and actual risks for the youthful ones. If you share the bed with your children, they risk Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) and perhaps foster different sleep problems. As per a University of Massachusetts Medical School research review, co-sleeping is connected to kids having sleep problems.

[uncuentofriki]

No me olvides (English)

Finally, for my english-speaking readers, the first chapter of my Alternate Universe fic where Imelda and Hector are on the rock scene. THere are some minor changes about who is who with the Riveras (some of them aren’t on this universe) for plot reasons, but they’re mostly the same characters. Anyway, every chapter, on the spanish version has a title of a verse of a rock song from Mexico. The title cam from Paula, by Zoe.

1- And suddenly you’re so alone (Afuera- Caifanes)

The hard part of his secret, was trying to keep it a secret from his aunt.

"And what did you do today, Miguel? Study session on the library again?”

Imelda was a woman somewhat short of stature, brown hair always on a low not. But she has such a black intese eyes, capable of seeing even on your past lifes.

"Yeah, aunt” was his answer, taking his place on the table. It was such a good luck that every time that Imelda made that question he was at her back. At his side on the table there was his cousin, Coco, just two years old. Miguel started to play peek-a-boo with her.

”Well, I’m glad for that but better to go and play sometimes with some friends. I can’t tell your parents that you don’t have social life”

Miguel made faces when he saw the plate with veggies.

”Why broccoli, Imelda?”

”Broccoli or else you will not grow up. Eat it”. She tried to help his daughter to eat, making gestures for her to clean her face every time she had some soup on her face. Coco, obviously, tried to clean herself with the sleeves of her pink dress, for his mother’s dismay.

”And how’s the shoe business going, aunt?” Miguel asked, trying to avoid her to do more questions and then it will be hard to keep the secret.

”Tomorrow I have to go to a exposition for smal business, so take withyou whatever you need to read, because I don’t want the babysitter to worry about you. And don’t forget to call your parents, they’re worried”. Miguel was living with his aunt Imelda and his cousin since he started the middle school some months ago. He was twelve years old boy, somewha tall for his age, of caramel tan skin and black hair. His fathers sended him to the city to send him to a good shoo, trying to give him a better future. Imelda was his father’s sister, she was living on the city since college and stayed there once her daughter was born.

After eating, Miguel helped his aunt with the dishes and then played with his cousin. Coco was a charming girl, always easygoing, with her hair always on two braids with bows, her hair was like her mother’s but her eyes were different from anyone else. It was the only heritage she had from the unkwnown man that she had as father. Once she fell asleep, Miguel went to his bedroom and tried to listen music on his laptop, always with his headpphones on. He liked to listen the band La noche Triste. and was a big fan of his vocalist, Ernesto de la Cruz, but if he got asked of an all-girls band, he prefered Las Barraganas, but with their past vocalist, the legendary Cornela. He practiced the songs on the air, lacking of a guitar.

Every day, after school, Miguel went to music classes on the comunitary center. The techer was all day long here, so he decided to take the classes when the classroom was empty. That day, he listened a conversation from the other side, on another room destinied for the lockers for the theater workshop.

“My costume, Hector?”

“Ah... Ceci, I don’t have it anymore” his voice sounded like trying to apologize but not at all.

"The last time I will give you a costume!” the vestuarist yelled at him, with noises of she throwing stuff. When the noises stopped, she added. “At least did you found her?”

“No, Ceci”

“ouldn’t it be easier to try to ask to her friends”

“I did that already, all of them don’t want to see me” he sighed. “Anyway, if I’m going to find her, I’ll do, if not, well, it’s not going to happen”

“If you were really resigned, you would stop asking me for costumes, Hector”

He looked into his classroom, trying to scape from the fury of Cecilia.

”h, my star student his here, I have to go, Ceci” and he closed the door that comunicated both rooms “How are you, chamaco? Lemme see what you have”

After his teacher said that words, Miguel showed that he was already an expert with the Circle of G, althought with the ranchero rythm.

”When are you going to teach me how to play Nube Liquida, Hector?”

”Hey, keep calm, kiddo, to run you need to learn how to walk and to learn how to walk, you need to learn how to crawl. “But the contest to play with Ernesto and La noche Triste is on 3 months. I can’t go and play rancheras”

”Hey, hey, hey” the teacher snapped his fingers. “It took to you just one week to dominate this, some people take months. We’re at agood pace, chamaco. Maybe when the competition is here, you can even play the double-guitar”

And they both laughed with the idea. Miguel liked Hector, he was so much fun. He was tall and skinny. His eyes always were wandering to find something that seemed so far away from him. It was surprising that, although lots of girls tried to flirt with him, he didn’t dated anyone.

”And why Nube Liquida... I don’t know who was the asshole who wasn’t smart enought to call that song simply “rain”. Pfft” the teacher covered his mouth, after remembering that he was in front of a kid. “Don’t be like me, Miguel... well, just with the guitar” Once the kid dominated the ranchero rythm, Hector decided to teach him Huapango.

”Why this rythms?” the kid ngroaned.

”If you want to be a good musician and make your idol to notice you, you have to learn different things and, from there, create new stuff” he sighed. Hector looked through the window and said, as for no body “How fast can life change on 3 years, Miguelito”

And he got lost on days so far from him. So away from that classroom.

The gig on a bar on downtown was over. Even the waiters were leaving but then he noticed a pair of feet behind the pallet that served as scenery. He decided to see if that person was alright. And she was, just incredibly tired. It was a girl, posibily of her age, with Catrina make up.

“You are one of Las Barraganas, isn’t it?” he asked, truly worried for her. “Do you need help?”

The girl gasped as if she was trying to hold on on precious life. Hector  was wondering if she was too high or too drunk.

“Help me to get up, I’m literally dead.

“Ah, I thought it was just make up” he tried to make her laugh. But she just smiled, with sarcasm on the gesture. So she wasn’t drunk or high.

Once she could get up and after thanking the help, she took her stuff and tried to leave.

“Goddamit, Rosa, she leaved once again without me” she groaned. Hector didn’t leaved her sid.

“If you want, you can saty at my house, I live two blocks from here” he offered.

She looked at him, not trusting him.

“I can call a taxi” was her answer.

“At this hour there’s no taxi that’s free, trust me. That’s wy I moved near this zone, in case one of the guys from my band needed a place to stay. I’m serious, I don’t want to do anything to you. If you want I can go and sleep in the shower and you stay on my bed”

Then she laughed.

"Okay, let’s go”

If he could describe the girls way of walking , he would use his mother’s saying “like a spinned duck”.

“By the way, I’m Imelda”

“Hector”

"I know, we’re always on the same gigs.

"It’s an habit of yours to collapse after presentations and after taking off the costume of Adelita?” he asked, they arrived to his place. “Come in.”

“Thanks. I always go to the gigs after working, and if I’m tired of the work, then imagine how it is after the gigs, almost always one of the girls takes me back home, but today sheforgot about that. Anyway, its a good luck that tomorrow is sunday and I can have some rest”.

The apartment, on the second floor of a building, was somewhat small.  the living room and the dinner room on the same space, the kitchen with a bar where Hector used to have his breakfast, a small balcony with some plants, two bedrooms and the bathroom. Imelda insisted to stay on the sofa, but his host told her that it wasn’t good not even for a nap. And it was truth.

“I guess I’ll sleep on the shower” joked the musician.

“We can share the bed, I’ll be clear I’m taking your offer to stay here. Nothing else. Maybe tomorow I’ll do to you the breakfast or something to pay it up.

Hector wondered how many guys tried to take adventage of any favor that they made to her to make Imelda be so cutting about that if she took the favor, it didn’t meant that she was going to pay with sex.  He truly wanted to help her, although she was pretty, he didn’t wanted anything else.

While he was taking off his boots, she tried to wash the makeup, took off the bobby pins and left her braids fell, put on a sweatshirt and pants.

La Barragana was such a different person without the white paint. Her face was serious, with eyes as intense as an espresso. He was going to sleep on the side of the wall, she on the edge.

“If you feel cold, I can give you another blanket. Good night, Imelda. And he turned the lights off.

“Hey, thanks”

“No, why, if we don’t help each other, who?”

The sun was almost out when they both fell asleep. Hector’s bed was big enough for they both. And together the nigh wasn’t so cold.

He woke up before her, past 12 p.m.

Imelda hughed him when they both were sleeping. And it wasn’t so bad, but he decided to move her before she could misunderstood everything.

She was nice. No, more than that. It was like a japanese word he heard so many time ago. Koi yokan, the feeling that you’re going to fall in love.

Notes: 1- The times of eating in Mexico are something like this (for a 12+ years old person) 6 a.m.: Breakfast (something fast, some coffee, some milk, cereal..) 9 p.m.: lunch. A sandwich, chilaquiles, tacos. 2-4 p.m.: dinner. Something more elaborated, like the supper on the USA. 6-7 P.M: A snack. 8 p.m or later: Supper. Something fast again, but it’s not uncommon to have tacos.

2- A Barragana was a female soldier during the XIX Century, the name comes from Juana Barragan,w ho fought on the Independence War. And IDK, I though that if Imelda and other Riveras had a band 8the Rosa on this fic is Tia Rosita) should had that name. I considered Las Adelitas but nope. So the name is because they’re girls on a scene usually dominated by men. The band dresses as adelitas and they have catrina make up, something like Ghost or Kiss. Also, Barragana was the name for a mistress (well... a woman with whom you had the right to do the do-be-do-be-do but you weren’t married with her).

3- Ernesto’s band.... weeell the name came for La Noche Triste, supposedly the night when Cortez cried because of a battle lost against the Aztecs.

4- Nube Liquida (Liquid Cloud) is a reference to one of my favorite books, “Profesor Zipper and the wonderful electric guitar” (it was the band of the protagonist’s brother). And the villian of the book says more or less what Hector said “Why not just name the band “Rain”?”