#let me tell you friends: WHOOF

[keyofjetwolf]

@alevolpe GUESS WHO GOT THAT RIGHT IT'S YOU

This is too cute to be legal, and yet, here it is, and you're presumably not imprisoned, so what do I know?

Thank you for tagging me in this, thank you for making this, thank you.

Happy 45th birthday to wonderful Auntie Rei Hino!!

[sirdolraan]

Escape from Dalaran, Part One

Dalaran was in chaos. Lorellai had barely managed to link up with Dolraan and Janosis, and introduced them to her new friend Spiru before the Nerubians had appeared, emerging from portals to attack the entire city at once.

Lorellai pulled her scarf up over her nose to try and keep the dust and rubble from choking her as she fired her pistol at an advancing nerubian, silently thanking her da' for giving her a full box of explosive rounds. The four of them fought well in tandem, despite the chaos and screaming all around them.

Janosis ducked behind Dolraan's armored form, firing arcane bolts at the fliers overhead. "Please tell me we have a plan beyond shoot them until they overwhelm us!" he cried, doing his best to keep the skies in their immediate vicinity cleared.

Stroganoff lashed a Nerubian with his big tongue, allowing Spiru to land a flying kick to its head, cracking its carapace and casing it to fall lifeless. "I can hear calls from the mages to evacuate, where would they be trying to get to?"

"The landing!" Lorellai shouted, "that's the muster point for evacuations, since it has all the teleport runes and flying creatures! Hey! Everyone, get to the landing!" she cried, but her voice was lost amidst the chaos. "Dangit, it's too noisy, we'll have to go house to house?"

A glare of pure Light got her attention, as she turned to see Dolraan's armor and shield glowing along with his eyes, and his voice boomed out. "PEOPLE OF DALARAN! THE CALL HAS BEEN MADE TO EVACUATE! PROCEED TO KRASUS' LANDING! WE SHALL PROTECT YOU!" he shouted, punctuating his sentence by throwing his shield at a big nerubian and knocking it from the wall it was crawling on.

The effect was immediate, as several citizens began to emerge from hiding places, dashing towards the landing and covering their heads. "Alright, move with them, keep the spiders away, we'll worry about the rest later!" Dolraan ordered, taking the point and leading the survivors as the rest of them followed, Lorellai and Stroganoff taking up the rear. The nerubians began to swarm at them, seeing so many moving targets at once, and the four adventurers were hard pressed to keep them at bay. Lorellai unloaded her pistol at several advancing nerubians, but in the chaos she lost her count, and the click of an empty chamber filled her with dread as a cluster of flying horrors descended on her. She drew her spear and got ready to call out when she was knocked to the ground as Stroganoff lept in their path, the flyers striking into his massive hide instead of her body. He croaked in pain as he spun and lashed at them with his tongue, and Lorellai let out a cry as she lashed out with her spear, stabbing and sweeping the monsters off her, wincing at the deep wounds their fangs and probisci left. She felt two sets of arms pull her to her feet as mirror images of Spiru lifted her, while the third continued to hold off the right flank. Whistling for Stroganoff, they continued to retreat.

At the landing, things were calmer. The contingent of Dalaran guardians were bolstered by Silver Covenant and Sunreaver warmages, protecting the civilians and the mages who were teleporting them to hopeful safety down on the surface below. Lorellai breathed a sigh of relief until she heard Stroganoff's strained croak, and turned to see him looking very worse for wear. "Buddy! Dolraan help, Stroganoff's been poisoned!" she called, trying to lift her listing hornswog back into a comfortable sitting position as he listed to one side. Dolraan and Spiru came over, Dolraan's hands glowing as he called upon the Light. "Whoof, whatever it is, it's fighting back, I'm having trouble purifying him."

Spiru hopped up Stroganoff's back, peering into his eyes, and encircling him with mists. "The poison is tainted with void energies. He requires medical aid beyond my capabilities."

"Not likely with the city in shambles," Janosis said, "I'm pretty sure the medical quarter was one of the first hit!"

Lorellai looked into her buddy's eyes, tears stinging hers, and he croaked apologetically. "It's okay buddy, you did real good, I love you so much," she said, digging in one of her pouches, and pulling out a device. "Everyone get clear, I'm sending him home," she declared, activating her emergency Dimensional Ripper. "This is going to be loud!" she continued, tossing the device in Stroganoff's mouth so he wouldn't drop it as Spiru hopped down and Janosis moved behind Dolraan. After a three count, there was a beep sound, and then Stroganoff appeared to explode as the Dimensional Ripper activated. Lorellai held her scanner tightly, watching the light turn from yellow to green. "He made it... I think!"

"Your dad will take good care of him. Alright everyone, there's more people in need, I'm going back in for them. If you're able, I'd appreciate you at my back." Dolraan declared, adjusting his shield.

"I was afraid you were going to say that. I'm with you," Janosis sighed.

"I came here to help, and that's what I intend to do," Spiru declared.

Lorellai stowed her scanner and reloaded her pistol. "For Stroganoff."

Dolraan nodded at the trio. "Alright, let's go meddle!" he shouted, as he led them back into the chaos of the ailing Flying City.

[ihhfhonao3]

a spin-off idea for your clown Maya fics

a shipping oneshot for Maya and Jen where Jen visits her at the circus to ask her out

here it is! Under the cut. Hope you enjoy :)

Jen didn’t like to overthink, but they couldn’t help it. Their brain just HAD to go through all of the possible things that could have gone wrong that would be keeping Maya from arriving. Maybe her bus broke down. Maybe she couldn’t get her makeup off. Maybe the police stopped her on the street. Maybe… she forgot?

Jen stopped themself. No, Maya wouldn’t forget. That wasn’t like her. She probably was just held up by something stupid.

Jen waited for five more minutes and was about to head inside the restaurant and text Maya that they had a table when they spotted Maya Fey sprinting full-speed down the parking lot.

“Jen!” Maya cried. “Jen, I’m so sorry I’m late! I… whoof…”

Maya slowed to a stop and held her abdomen, gasping for air.

“I’m sorry, Jen,” She said in between breaths. “I couldn’t… foof… find my boss to ask him if I could leave.”

“And you didn’t think to ask him in advance?” Jen teased. 

“Hey!” Maya scowled playfully. “I was more focused on lunch itself than I was on telling my boss I had somewhere to be!”

“Well then, let’s have at it, huh?” Jen said, opening the restaurant’s doors to let Maya ahead of them.

“So chivalrous,” Maya said, walking ahead of Jen.

Jen followed Maya into the restaurant and asked the receptionist for a table for two. The receptionist led them to their table, which was positioned by a window.

“Nice place,” Maya said. “How’d you find it?”

“Online,” Jen said. “People said it had good food. They serve primarily Greek, from what I heard.”

“Oooh, I’m interested,” Maya said. “I don’t get much else other than hamburgers and ramen noodles. It helps when your comfort foods are cheap, haha. Nick is always on my ass about eating different things once in a while.”

Jen smiled. “He’s right, you know. You can’t survive off of those two alone.”

Maya cringed. “Jeez, not you too! I’ll say it again, I change my ramen order every now and then! So I technically get different stuff a lot more often than you think, actually!”

“That’s not how it works,” Jen laughed.

Maya crossed her arms in a pout. “It SHOULD work that way, if you ask me.”

Just then, the waiter arrived to take their drink orders. Maya ordered a fancy lemonade and Jen ordered coffee. They then started to look at the menu.

“This gyro looks good,” Jen said. “What say you?”

“I’m eyeing this lamb dish they’re offering,” Maya said. “What if we shared?”

Jen hesitated. “It… might not be the best for me, considering my condition. But you can still order it!”

“Oh…” Maya said. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Jen said. “Go ahead and order it if that’s what you want. And I can get my gyro!”

Maya put her menu down on the table. “You’re real sweet, Jen.”

Jen felt their face turn red. “Th-thanks, I guess.”

Jen looked around awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to say. Luckily, the waiter saved their skin, who came by to take their entree orders and serve their drinks. Jen was safe for a moment.

Of course, that moment had to pass, because the waiter couldn’t just stay there. But Maya broke the silence (intentionally or not, Jen couldn’t tell) by rambling about a case that her lawyer friend took up. Apparently there was some conflict between him and the opposing counsel. From the way Maya spoke, she definitely thought that they had crushes on each other.

“Wait wait wait,” Jen interrupted. “Is that even legal?”

Maya cocked her head. “Is what legal?”

Jen waved their hand in the air. “The whole… defense and prosecutor relationship thingy. Is that allowed?”

Maya folded her hands on the table. “Gay marriage wasn’t legal eight years ago, yet here we are. What’s your point?”

“That’s not the same,” Jen laughed.

“Is too!”

“It is not!”

“It definitely is!”

“It’s a conflict of interest!”

“YOU’RE a conflict of… what’s a conflict of interest?”

Jen laughed. “It’s when like, your relationships can cloud your judgment on something. When you’re supposed to be unbiased. So I’m saying that the two of them dating could lead to unfair trials.”

“I’m looking it up,” Maya said, taking out her phone.

Jen leaned back in their chair and watched Maya frantically search the internet for answers. She was cute when she was thinking.

“HERE!” Maya shouted, shoving her phone so close to Jen that they had to take off their glasses to see.

“It says here that relationships with the opposing counsel are okay if disclosed with the client first! So ha!” Maya said.

Jen shrugged. “I guess I stand corrected, then. I still think it’s a little funny.”

Maya sighed dramatically. “You don’t get it like I do…”

Just then, the waiter approached their table and placed down their food.

“Enjoy,” the waiter said.

Maya thanked the waiter and placed a napkin in her lap. Jen smiled.

“You’re holding yourself back so you don’t look like a savage in front of me,” they said.

“Totally,” Maya exhaled. “How could you tell?”

Jen grinned cheekily. “You were all tense. Please, dig in. I don’t care.”

Maya’s face lit up at the offer and she began to work away at her lamb.

Jen watched her as she ate, picking at their gyro bit by bit. Most of their attention was focused on Maya- the way she spoke, telling tales of the circus and crazy cases from the past, laughing at her own jokes and waving her arms for emphasis. And it made Jen happy. It made Jen happy to be near her, to be with her, to be by her in this moment. And Jen thought about how, even though her old job was incredibly awful, if she never had it in the first place, she would have never met the marvel that was Maya Fey. And to Jen, that would be a damn near shame.

That was when it hit them. Sitting there, watching Maya smile, Jen had to tell her.

“Maya,” Jen interrupted. “I’m sorry but… I have something important I need to tell you.”

Maya paused, confused. “What is it?”

Jen inhaled slowly. “I…”

Looking at Maya’s face, her apparent genuine interest in what Jen had to say, Jen started to lose themself in her slight smile and beautiful, big eyes. Everything about her was perfect. How could Jen say what they wanted to say without being horribly embarrassed? They could never be good enough for Maya.

“I uh…” Jen stammered. “I love… hanging out with you.”

Maya smiled. “Ditto! I’m glad that I got this chance to see you. I’ll miss you when you leave again.”

“Yeah…” Jen muttered. “Same here.”

Jen tried not to show too much discontent, as they were only a quarter through finishing their gyro. Though it was a little hard to hide their sadness that they just couldn’t do it- and the sadness that came with facing the fact that they may never get the chance to tell Maya what they really wanted to say.

Jen survived the rest of the meal, however, and the two bid their goodbyes as they returned to their jobs. When Jen returned to their workplace, the first thing they did was find the show’s director and ask them how much longer they were staying in Japanifornia.

Jen was not happy to find out that tomorrow was going to be their last day there, and they were going to be leaving for Alaska next. Jen realized that if they wanted to make a move, they had to act fast.

So Jen spent the rest of the night and all the next morning completely avoiding anything to do with Maya, refusing to answer her texts and refusing to talk to anyone about what was going on. They knew that if they had to think about it any more, they would just crumble under the anxiety.

Time moved faster than Jen would have hoped, and before they knew it, their work day was over. Which meant that Maya’s work day was likely wrapping up too.

Jen rushed over to the Berry Big Circus, hoping that Maya hadn’t left yet. They didn’t see any sign of her, but they tried to stay hopeful. Maybe she was just washing off her makeup in the bathroom? Maybe she couldn’t find her phone!

With what time they had, Jen tried to rehearse what they wanted to say in their head. They knew what they wanted to say, but had no clue at all how they wanted to go about it.

Just as Jen suspected, Maya exited the circus tent and noticed them right away. She hurried up to them.

“Hey Jen!” Maya said. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, um…” Jen stammered. “Nothing, I just… wanted to say hello?”

“Well, hello then!” Maya said cheerfully, waving. 

“Yeah, um… hi,” Jen mumbled.

“I’ve gotta catch my bus,” Maya said. “But I’ll see you soon?”

Jen hesitated. “You won’t, actually.”

Maya looked at them, puzzled. “What was that?”

“I…” Jen started. “The show that I’m working with right now, we’re… leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Maya said. “Where to?”

“A-Alaska.”

“Oh. That’s… kind of far.”

“Yeah.”

Jen looked at their shoes. It was now or never.

“Maya?” They asked, looking up.

“Hmm?” Maya said.

“I… need to tell you something,” Jen said.

“Oh man, I’m gonna miss you too, Jen,” Maya said.

Jen waved their hand. “No no, that’s not it. I mean, that’s partially it, but there’s something else.”

“I’m all ears,” Maya said.

“I wanted to ask…” Jen exhaled. “I wanted to ask if you’d go out with me?”

Maya looked surprised. Then, she smiled.

“I’d love to,” Maya said. 

“Really?” Jen asked, trying to contain their excitement.

Maya nodded.

“Oh, uh… awesome,” Jen said. “Cool. Great. Terrific.”

“I’ve gotta go now,” Maya said. “But I’ll text you?”

“Yes please,” Jen smiled. 

“Great! Seeya!” Maya ran off to get to her bus before it drove off without her.

Jen smiled as they watched her leave. If one thing was for sure, they were definitely looking forward to texting Maya later.

[cosmos-soso-happeh]

"If We Stopped Time Tonight, There'd Be No Goodbye"

HENLOOOOOO, I'M COSMOCORN! XD But just call meh Cosmo! ;3 *Throws fork @ u*

☆ Q ☆ "Who tf r u?" ☆ A ☆ Glad u asked! Henlo, I'm UniCosmicCometCorn also known as Cosmocorn A L S O known as Cosmo! XD I'm just another meddling teen 2 add 2 the already giant pile of meddling teens on here XD Introductions r BORING so I'll just tell u what u need 2 know: 1. I'm a Christian, remember; If Jesus can love me even after I sunk the Titanic Had absolutely nothing to do with the sinking of the Titanic, he can love u no matter what! :D 2. RLLY a meddling teen, not 4 long but... A meddling teen nonetheless :P 3. Label me whatever u want, "scene kid", "emo kid", "goth", I rlly don't care T_T XD 4. I'm 2 random 4 my own good x_x Speaking of which, u bore me >.> *KICKS U INTO A HOLE* DIS IS SPARTAAAAA!!!

☆ Q ☆ "How about the nerd shit?" ☆ A ☆ Fiiiine, we can talk about the nerd shit T.T

On the topic of fandoms; I'm quite fond of dEEZ SWEET DEALS U CAN GET 4 THREE EASY PAYMENTS OF 999.99: FNaF is like my FAVORITE THING in the... YA- O.o Springtrap is easily my fav animatronic, has been for years! XD I rlly liek Creepypasta too, my favs Ben Drowned ;3, MLP:FiM is GR8! Especially season 9! I won't spoil it tho~ ;3, Invader Zim is easily my favorite TV show, I quote Gir a bit TOO much! XD, it's not reaaaaaaaaaally a fandom but u can tell by my Tumblr username that I rlly like SoSo Happy Monster XDD

More nerd shit about me... WELL, my only three hobbies r drawing, writing, and mass consuming media 2 get more ideas of things 2 write and draw XD Maybe I'll post some of my drawings or writings here... Or... Drawings AND writings?? WHOOF- NOW T H A T ' D BE A SWEET DEAL U CAN GET 4 THREE EASY PAYMENTS OF-

Ok, ya, I know what u RLLY came 4 so- Let's just- Drop T h e H o a r d XDD

One thing u NEED 2 know about me is that I am a TOTAL music nerd, ULTRA music nerd, I CONSTANTLY reference music XDD I like a lot of bands O.o 2 many T_T Likeeeee...

Breathe Carolina! MEH FAVORITE BAND! XDD Family Force 5 Watchout! There's Ghosts Nickasaur! 3OH!3 I Set My Friends on Fire Jeffree Star I typically don't like rap, but Dot Dot Curve somehow manages 2 make it sound SOOO GOOD >o< A cup full of crunk juice will make everyone hardcore two step, hardcore two step, hardcore two steeeep~ XD Same 4 some BrokeNCYDE, I love their album "The Broken" XD Falling In Reverse Sleeping W/ Sirens Pierce The Veil Attack Attack! S3RL A good few BOTDF songs XD I don't like their pervy songs T.T But their songs like PLUR and Death To Your Heart r SOOO GOOD! XD Oh ya... Oooo *Waves hands like a ghost* I'm problematic, woooo... My Chemical Romance, who dosen't? XD Amy Can Flyyy The Medic Droid Forever The Sickest Kids The Ready Set Breathe Electric Set It Off Hellogoodbye Paramore Ghost Town (This is getting long...) Caravan Palace Avril Lavigne Your Favorite Martian Send Request Cobra Starship Hurry! Lets Go! Teen Hearts

And probably much much MUCH more I'm just 4getting XDD

Always feel free 2 recommend me moar bands 2 check out >3>

☆ Q ☆ "Well, am I allowed 2 be here or not!? Drop the DNI already, bIIIITCH-" ☆ A ☆ Well, bIIIITCH- Ya uh- *Scratches back of neck awkwardly* The thing is... *Pulls on sweaty collar* ... I don't have one... wHoOpS-

No, but srsly, I never got the idea of coming into a public platform and... Restricting public access- Eugh- >_> So I don't have one, any1 can come, even if u eat puppies! u^u (I should add though: I would encourage u 2 STOP eating puppies '>.> XD)

As 4 UR hypothetical DNI list, if ur looking through this blog 2 see if I fit it or not, let me make it easy 4 u 2 avoid heartbreak, tears, and long conversations about life on rooftops: Since the terms on a majority of DNI lists barely have meaning anymore, just assume I fit every "ist", "ism", and "phobe" you can think of (Even though I don't... Or I do, idk, no1 knows what these words mean anymore! XD) and if that bothers u then I WON'T hold u hostage this time! (I've been improving!) and u can leave, if it dosen't... Give me your hand. *Gets out ritual knife-* IT IS TIME 4 THE BLOOD PACT, BROTHA

Soooo, yee! Enjoy ur stay @ my blog, and DON'T talk 2 the clown in the corner

He's uh... O.o

He's not friendly... >.>

☆ Other socials ☆

Deviantart GaiaOnline Animal Jam: Cosmofuzz Feralheart: XxComet_BeFuzzy Roblox

Top 8 (In no particular order XD)

@crumchylettuce

@averrazor

@inkrizz

@thedeadcomic

@dolliedyhard

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[jakebark]

💕Love headcanon

But let's go deeper,

What do they look for in a person? romantic or platonic relationship

Is there anything that's a huge turn-on/off?

Clearly Jake has issues sorting out his feelings. Has that had any negative/harmful effects?

Whoof! Making me think. Alright:

Jake’s experience with romantic relationships is… poor at best? Other than like, fleeting high school romances, he never had the time nor will to pursue a relationship. Not much has changed since he got to the fog; it just isn’t something he prioritizes.

If you asked him what he wanted in a relationship he wouldn’t know what to tell you even if he was inclined to be honest. Maybe friends that help him forget where he is for a while, or someone who can just… be there. Passively and quietly supportive, something that he can also be in return without feeling silly.

Big turn off: uhhh… anything that slightly reminds him of himself?

Of course Jake’s awful emotional literacy bites him in the ass with like… every interpersonal relationship ever. He’s an unfortunate mix of bad at communication, needing to hide his feelings, and a tendency to say things he doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment. It’s kept him from keeping any friends in the fog for very long, and makes it difficult to meet new ones.

[fantasyland96]

Man, writing is a hassle. I'm working on the sequel to that story where I rape you on the couch, the one where we rape my girlfriend together, and I'm like three pages in and not half done, but now I can't stop thinking about the first time I share you with one of our friends, where we're all hanging out together and I just casually let it slip what a tight pussy you have. This is the first any of our friends hear that we're fucking, and you kind of thought we were keeping it a secret, but I literally can't understand why you wouldn't want him to know. And you're both obviously uncomfortable when I offer him a go at your pussy like it's my decision, but even when he point blank asks you if it's okay I keep insisting you won't mind cause why would you? I've already got you on birth control, so it's fine. And eventually I just make it more awkward for him not to fuck you than just go ahead and do it, and I calmly watch, sipping my cheep bear while he has his way with you. When he cums I ask if he's done, and to be honest he didn't really want to do it the first time (not because he isn't attracted to you, but the way he only technically had my consent and not yours, and the way I just stood their watching the whole time just made it really awkward for him,) so he tells me he's good. And there's just no hesitation before I pull it out and take my turn right in front of him, your eyes pleading with him for help that he doesn't know how to give, and that he realizes he'd be a hypocrite to give, as he realizes with disgust that you really weren't in to what he did to you, that he is the rape monster he learned about in his women's study classes, that he really is no better than me.

Whoof. Sheesh, I'm getting myself worked up. I might flesh this one out more later, but probably not cause then I won't really have time to get back to living my life lol. Just wanted to tell you about it before I lose the idea

Absolutely love the way your mind works :)

[ffxivbabey]

Telling

Y'shtola has some news for Alin. Written for xivwrite for the prompt 'telling'.

Contains trans pregnant character.

"Right, now that I've told the new rulers of my findings," said Y'shtola with finality, and Alin wished that he'd already left as the sorceress' eyes landed on him. "Alin, I have some words for you."

"Oh yeah?" said Alin, trying not to let the worry show in his voice. "W-what words?" Y'shtola shook her head in exasperation as she grabbed Alin by the shoulder and marched him away from the group, down a few hallways in the royal palace to another room where she shut the door behind them. She turned to face him, and Alin had to wonder just why he was so nervous. His heart was pounding. "What is it, Y'shtola?"

"Are you aware that you are with child?" Y'shtola asked, no doubt expecting shock by the low and gentle voice that she used.

"Oh, is that all?" said Alin, relaxing as the adrenaline left him, running a hand over his ears. "Whoof, yeah, thought I was in trouble for a minute there but yeah, I know."

"Wait, truly?" Y'shtola asked, blinking at him. This clearly was not part of the script.

"Yeah," said Alin. "I might act stupid but I'm not actually stupid. In case you forgot, I lived for a century on the First. Might've been with male anatomy but I know my body."

"Oh," said Y'shtola, looking a little dumbstruck. "So are congratulations in order, then?"

"Well, kind of," said Alin, rubbing the back of his neck. "I haven't got around to telling Erenville yet."

"How?" Y'shtola asked. "Pray tell. The two of you have been nigh inseparable, from what your friends tell me."

"Well, it's kinda hard to get a minute alone with him when a certain third promise keeps poking her nose in," said Alin. "Look, she's great, and I know Grace loves her, but girl needs to learn to keep out of others space sometimes."

"Would you like me to fetch him now?" Y'shtola asked. "So that you can tell him?"

"Is now really the best time?" Alin asked.

"Aha, so you are nervous about telling him," said Y'shtola, eyes gleaming at having caught him out. "Why?"

"Because what if he makes me sit things out?" said Alin. Y'shtola huffed a laugh. "What?"

"Alin Zephyr, nobody can make you do anything that you don't want to do," said Y'shtola. "He will trust that you know your body better than anyone. Besides, from what I hear, his own mother continued to adventure with Gulool Ja Ja while she was pregnant with him, so far be it from him to make his pregnant partner take a back seat."

"Will he, though?" Alin asked. "But, well... we're planning on going to his hometown, just me and him and his friends, so what better time to tell him?"

"I wish you luck," said Y'shtola. "I know that we are hardly close, but... I was a healer. Briefly. Or if not, my sister is sure to help you out."

"Thanks, but I'd rather Jaik be my... midwife for lack of a better term," said Alin. "He's my best friend, you know? I trust him with my life."

"And here I came all this way and went to all these lengths to tell you..." Y'shtola sighed, closing her eyes. Alin grinned at her, poking her nose.

"That's what you get for being nosy," Alin teased, and then darted away from her slapping hand, laughing.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: "A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events" (au)

A/N: Whoof. Okay. So it took me longer than I originally thought, but here it is! The WHOLE fic this time! This is my official post for @cssecretsanta2020 and my gift to the delightful @snowbellewells who is a genuinely wonderful human being (although I think you all already knew that). Thanks for your patience, friend, and I hope you enjoy this sweet little thing.

Rating: T at most

Word Count: Just under 3k. Teeny tiny.

Summary: How a series of meetings in the weeks leading up to Christmas change the seemingly dull lives of two Storybrooke residents.

-x-

November 23

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” the blonde above him is rushing out. She’s frantic, trying to decide how best to treat the situation without actually treating anything at all, but Killian gives her points for trying. He’s still flat on his back, so he decides the best course of action is to get to his feet before attempting anything else.

It’s halfway through the motion that the woman realizes what he’s doing and helps him the rest of the way, yanking him upright with a surprising amount of force that almost sends him tumbling forward.

She is, without a doubt, a roller coaster of a human being; he can already tell.

“Again, I’m just so sorry. Let me go get a towel or some napkins or anything.” She’s gone in a flash, and since Killian definitely had the wind knocked out of him with the force of his fall, he’s willing to catch his breath and nurse his pride.

“Here, can I pay for dry-cleaning or laundry or something? Shit, is this real leather?”

“Lass, I’m going to need a minute to catch up,” Killian finally says, surveying the frozen hot chocolate which is now spilled down from the collar of his shirt to his shoes. It had largely been contained to his torso before he stood up, but he can feel the icy beverage seeping in through every layer at this point.

He’s so glad he’s not working today, or else he might be more upset by this, but there’s a gorgeous woman attempting to politely towel him off and he can’t imagine a better use of his time at the moment.

“Here,” she finally says, holding out the towel when she realizes there’s no non-awkward way to do it herself.

“Killian,” he says, accepting the towel and blotting down the front of his shirt. She’s focusing more on cleaning up the floor and apologizing to the customers walking around them to notice his abrupt introduction, so he brushes it off and starts to help her with the floor.

Thankfully, a young lad with a mop saves them both the trouble and they’re able to move away from the scene of the accident.

“Seriously, is there anything I can do to repay you for this?”

“It looks like a bit of a rush started while we were distracted. How about keeping me company while we wait?”

Amazingly, she says yes.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” she says, smiling but not looking at him. “But it’s Emma. Emma Swan. Resident deputy.”

“Killian Jones,” he offers up, holding out his hand for her to shake it.

“Your brother is Liam,” Emma says, tilting her head as she says it. It’s definitely not a question, means she’s known Liam long enough that she’s probably heard plenty about his degenerate brother. “He talks about you all the time, but I didn’t recognize you.”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me, eh? None of it is true. Or it all is, depending on what he’s said.”

“Not bad at all, I promise,” she tells him, and they shift closer to the front of the line.

When they’re next, he looks at the state of his shirt, gives one part of it a tentative sniff.

“Frozen hot chocolate, extra whipped cream, and cinnamon on top?”

“What?” Emma responds, giving him a puzzling look but catching the movement when he reaches for his wallet. “Hey, I’m the one that spilled a drink on you. Shouldn’t I be buying you a drink?”

“Not at all. Consider it an act of paying it forward. One day, you’ll return that kindness, aye?”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Emma throws up her hands. “Sure. Why not?”

They part after receiving their drinks, no numbers exchanged, no future plans, and a hint of fate in the winds.

December 1

He’s outside Fairy Fuel again when Emma goes the following week. It’s much later in the day, so she’s surprised to see him again. Killian, her mind provides as she gets closer. She’s known of him for ages through Liam’s stories, but for some reason didn’t know he lived here in Storybrooke.

Maybe she did know, but didn’t realize he would frequent the small, trendy coffee shop that focused more on specialty beverages over the plain, black coffee at Granny’s. Not that there was anything wrong with that coffee - or Granny’s hot chocolate for that matter - she just sometimes craved the different scenery. The frosty version of her favorite beverage was another perk, of course.

Emma crosses the street when she reaches the corner, and looks to see if he’s moved at all. He’s standing under the recessed doorway, trying to keep dry as the sky liberally pours down. She’s lucky that she has an umbrella, but other than the same leather jacket she saw him in last week, Killian doesn’t seem to be prepared for the weather.

“Back again?” she asks as she approaches, closing and shaking off her umbrella as she ducks under the same spot he’s in.

“Ah, hello again! Just trying to wait for it to clear up a little before I’m on my way. And you, Swan? Back to spill another drink down my front?”

“Not quite. At least, I hope not,” she adds, in hopes of not tempting the fates. She shuffles awkwardly for another moment, finally reaching for the door. “Well, see you later.”

She doesn’t wait for a response before she bolts inside.

He’s still out there when she comes back out, staring at the sky as if wishing it to dry up so he can step out and go about his day. It’s that expression that finally leads her to her next offer.

“Hey, Killian. Do you want to - do you want to share this?”

She’s indicating to her closed umbrella, which is sizable for the both of them. He looks at her, looks down at the item in her hand, and then smiles. She stifles her own smile, and steps out as she opens the bright material over both their heads.

“Where are you heading?”

“The library on Main. There’s a book I’ve been searching for and heard there might be a copy,” he tells her, trying to stand close but not too close as they walk down the sidewalk.

She makes a noise to acknowledge that she’s heard him but otherwise stays quiet, focusing more on the bump of his shoulder against her own and staying out of puddles too deep. There’s a hole in one of these boots and she doesn’t feel like being waterlogged the rest of the day.

“You?”

“Work,” she says back. “I have to stop in at the station and help my brother with something even though it’s my day off.”

“Just glad I’m right on your route, then,” Killian responds. This time when he smiles at her, Emma can’t help but smile back.

It’s a lot of small chit-chat as they walk along. Somewhere on the walk, Killian’s shoulder had contacted hers but he hadn’t moved away again, instead huddling a little closer so as not to get wet - that’s what she’s telling herself, anyway.

When it’s time for them to part ways, Emma’s almost sad to see him go. This is all so new - it’s been years since she’s taken any kind of interest in another person, romantically or otherwise. But there’s some bond between her and the man next to her. It’s something that was there even before she ran into him with her full drink. It was there when Liam would talk about his brother, this tugging on her heart and soul that felt like she should know him.

Of course, Killian doesn’t know about any of this. Besides maybe a general idea of their small law-enforcement team, he probably didn’t even know she existed before last week.

He lingers in the back of her mind for the rest of the day, and try as she might, she can’t seem to shake him loose. There are worse people you could be thinking about, Emma thinks as she walks through the station doors to David’s greetings.

December 10

She feels it before it happens. It’s that instability, that first slip that doesn’t really feel like a slip but also bodes a bigger slide is on the way. She feels her shoe give beneath her on what was clearly black ice and then her whole body is trying to overcorrect, but then there are arms around her waist.

“I’ve got you,” a familiar voice says, but she only feels relief for a half a second. “Oh bloody hell, no I don’t.”

“Fuck!” Emma exclaims as she makes contact partially with the ground and partially with Killian.

She can’t move for a moment, stunned by the sudden impact, but then she starts laughing as soon as she knows nothing on her is truly damaged.

“Well, I guess I know how you felt when I knocked you over a couple weeks ago,” she wheezes out, rolling just enough to look at him.

He has that same stunned look on his face as he assesses his limbs, making sure his hook is still tightly attached. As her words sink in, a smile comes to his face and he collapses back to the ground for a moment, laughing at first and then groaning when it clearly causes some kind of unseen pain.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Swan. My ribs can’t take anymore bruises.”

“Buy you a coffee to make up for it?” Emma says, struggling to her feet and turning to hold out her hand to help him up.

“Deal,” Killian responds as he takes her hand.

This time, they end up at Granny’s, and while she buys his coffee, they each pay for their own lunches. It’s over an hour later when Emma realizes she was supposed to be back at the station.

David, surprisingly, hadn’t even texted her to ask where she was. When she rushes back in, he explains that he saw her sitting at one of the booths in front of the windows at Granny’s and decided she needed the break.

“Plus, it looked like you were having a fun lunch with Killian. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“David.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t do that. What is this about?”

“Nothing! You just looked… happy.”

Emma has no response to that. She genuinely was enjoying herself as they talked about shared interests and swapped stories of their brothers. She was having a great time getting to know him, but she was so skeptical of the whole thing. Why him? Why now?

She had no way of knowing what would happen next, or when she’d even see him again. It was all up in the air and left to chance.

December 14

His hand lands on the book seconds before another one is there, now resting on top of his.

“Are you kidding?” he hears her mutter.

“Emma?”

He’s shocked when he looks over to her, trying to figure out why she’s also reaching for a copy of The Tooth Fairy by Graham Joyce when he was sure he was the only one to ever hear of it. He’s watched this copy sit on the shelves week after week, but it was near the bottom of his list and so now is the time, but her hand is there, too.

“Oh, shit, Killian. I didn’t realize it was you!”

“Haven’t you figured it out by now, love? The universe is clearly trying to play matchmaker with us.” He throws in a jump of the eyebrow so she knows he’s kidding, even though he can hear the flirtation in his own voice.

“Clearly,” she repeats with a deadpan tone. There’s something in the way she won’t look at him that tells him to back off, so he gestures to the book.

“You’re also interested in reading this strange little tale?”

“Mary Margaret recommended it to me after Ruby told her about it. We have a bit of a fairy tale obsession.”

“Then by all means,” he starts. “Why don’t you take it first?”

“You take it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, Killian. I’m sure. Go ahead. I have another one I can grab instead.”

“I appreciate it,” he says, rather than fighting her kindness anymore. Instead, he plucks the book from the shelf and lingers for just a moment more. It’s a shot in the dark, but he continues. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“With David and Mary Margaret just a half hour ago,” she says, a tinge of regret in her voice.

“Next time,” Killian responds.

She nods, giving him a real smile this time and half-waving before she wanders away again.

He tells himself that he’s looking for another book to read, even though he’s holding the very one he was searching for, as he lingers in the stacks. He stays long enough to hear Emma’s voice carry from the front desk as she asks Belle to call her when The Tooth Fairy is returned.

He stays there for just a few extra moments, thinking.

December 24

It’s Christmas Eve, well after lunch, when Belle calls to tell Emma that the book has been returned. It’s been over a week since she’s seen Killian and can’t stop thinking about him, but hasn’t made any progress in deciding what she wants to do with that knowledge about herself.

Should she ask Liam? Would he make fun of her if she did? She almost told David, one night. Almost being the key word. How embarrassing is it at thirty years old to talk to your brother about a crush on a guy you barely know outside of reputations and stories of growing pains?

So, instead, she has waffled and pondered and not acted at all, which is right on brand for her.

Given how the last month has gone, however, Emma shouldn’t be surprised when she bursts into the library to escape the giant flakes of snow and almost barrels directly into Killian… again.

“Hi,” she says, her breath whooshing out as if she’d run a marathon.

“Hello, Swan.”

“More books to find?”

“Ah, not really,” he says, scratching behind his ear. “I finished off my list last night.”

“Hey, that’s great!” It’s something he mentioned the one time they had lunch - one of his grand plans from last New Year to read a certain amount of books. “That’s a resolution checked off, right?”

“Aye, and there’s just one more to complete now. I just added it last week.”

“Yeah?”

When exactly did she get so close to him? It’s a thought that passes through her mind along with several other cascading thoughts and questions, like what is he doing here if he dropped off the book, and why does he smell so damn good?

“An act of small and selfish bravery,” he says, his smile kind and warm and everything she didn’t realize she wanted before she met him.

“What’s an act of small and selfish bravery?”

From behind his back he brandishes a single rose, holding it out to her. “Will you go out with me?” he asks, and she realizes that he’s answering his question and completing the goal.

-x-

She says yes, thankfully, and Killian can’t stop grinning as she takes the rose from his hand and raises it to her nose.

They’re about to leave when she yanks him down, her lips pressed against his in a way that seems to stun them both.

“Mistletoe,” Emma whispers as her nose brushes against his, and Killian mentally thanks Belle as he smiles and kisses Emma again. When they break apart this time, Emma is blushing something fierce and he bites his lip to stop himself from dipping back in.

“If I buy you a frozen hot chocolate, are you going to spill it on me again?”

“With how clumsy we both seem to be? You’re just as likely to do it as I am.”

And this time when they go down a block away from Fairy Fuel, it is Killian’s fault. They’re too busy laughing to care much, however, and Killian doesn’t even notice the snow seeping through his jeans with the way Emma kisses him again right there as the snow falls around them.

[painted-crow]

hi there :) I've been struggling between bird and snake primary, and occasionally, also lion and badger (but I've been constantly trying to remind myself why I'm NOT a badger primary, at least it isn't my.. main primary. I'm way too selfish and unconcerned about the opinions of larger groups to be one, unless it's my family and it hurts them too much or something in a way that I can agree and accept). and as a person who.. might only have ever identified, confidently, as a hat stall before(pt 1)

Hello anon! You've sent in a very detailed ask so I'll offer up reactions as I'm reading this one, and then summarize/think it over more at the end. ^^

I'm way too selfish and unconcerned about the opinions of larger groups to be [a Badger primary], unless it's my family

This is your second sentence and you've already called yourself selfish :c immediate impression is that you might have picked up a toxic Badger model--maybe from your family, since you do care what they think? But that's a shot in the dark. Let's keep going.

and as a person who.. might only have ever identified, confidently, as a hat stall before discovering SHC, I have a feeling that it isn't gonna be easy for me to figure it out alone.

Fortunately, SHC is pretty tangential to the canon houses.

now, all this might sound very bird, but that's because I've recently been heavily considering bird primary instead of snake primary.

No, what sounds Bird is that you consider your identity this malleable. If reframing your beliefs about yourself affects your behavior so much that you're worried it'll bias my perceptions of you toward Bird... that, itself, is an incredibly Birdy thing to worry about.

Bird primaries identify hard with our systems, and not-insubstantial parts of our systems can just... change, including our self-perception. Having your identity be this flexible isn't very common. The other primaries tend to be more rooted in themselves or their people.

Of course, it's possible you just have a very strong model or something. But you're already arguing with yourself (or rather, arguing with an imaginary version of me), which is very Socratic and very much a Bird writing/thinking style. It's loud.

I started off getting snake or lion primary in the SHC quiz at first, and I was like, yeah. I'm pretty stubborn, and I like things going my way. I can be selfish and self-interested, and put myself first.

Do you see selfishness as a negative attribute? Because if so, this is a lot of negative self-talk, and there's more in the next few sentences. You call yourself hedonistic for your priorities, which you list out--

thing is, I put myself, my wants and needs AND my goals AND my people first.

--and that's a pretty broad range of priorities, without even getting into the specifics of what your goals actually are. What priorities would you consider not hedonistic?? Are you under the impression that you have to dedicate your life to world peace in order to feel justified in pursuing your goals?

2 points to toxic Badger model, is all I'm saying.

I don't mind sacrificing myself for my best friends, sometimes friends if they have best friend potential or [insert other reason], S/O, for the reason that I like them a lot, and family because I love them and/or because I believe I owe them things (idk if it's just.. a belief to put my family first that I adopted from my mom or something, though, but I believe in working hard and providing for them anyway long before that since.. they did that for me man).

And yet you call yourself selfish. Whoof.

"Sacrificing" is an interesting word to use here. Can't tell if this is Snake yet, or if it's the toxic Badger model, and yeah... I think my hunch about you picking that up from your folks might've been on point.

You know how burned Badgers can end up looking like Snakes?

...You know one of your Houses can be both burned and exploded at the same time?

.....You know this applies to models too?

........You know how I said Birds identify a lot with their systems???

Look, I'm not judging--I am, unfortunately, the right person to ask about this, because I've done something pretty darn similar ^^;

Like I said, too early to tell if you have a genuine Snake model or if this is the burned/exploded Badger you've either modeled or woven into your system. If it's Snake, it's not very healthy Snake.

One thing though; the speed at which you're willing to accept new people as someone you might "owe" (including people with "best friend potential") seems more like a Badger impulse than Snake. Snakes usually take a while choosing their people.

I've.. been through putting an S/O before me for a long period of time, and tbh I didn't think they were a burden though they kept thinking they were, helping your closest ones is.. a given. relationships.. are the reward, to me.

You have some Loyalist to you, either baked into a Bird system or as a primary/model, but it seems very tired and sad.

it was only then I think I realised how much they affected me, how horrible and negative it was, and how I needed to take care of myself.. however, only until RECENTLY have I started to change in my perspective that I probably need to put myself first, instead of finding someone Right to put before me.

Anyone can change their mind, of course, but this sounds specifically like a Birdpri system change. You're talking about a specific piece of your worldview that you decided to change after processing new data.

and that's.. hard to swallow, and Idek if I will even care about this thought for long, if I'll integrate it into my life or find it too hard to do or if it resonates with me enough for it to stay. blergh sorry about that.

You don't sound happy. You don't sound like a happy Bird; you don't trust yourself to stick to your new system. You don't sound like a happy Snake either. You definitely aren't a happy Badger.

It's worth pointing out, your melancholy ambivalence here is about "will I stick to my new ideal? I don't like giving up the old one :(" and not "shit, is a healthy connection with other individuals not possible???" which is what a stressed out Snake would focus on.

You've been talking about Lion, but this doesn't quite read as Lion. This reads as tired Bird. I can't entirely verbalize why yet.

I also get lion primary as my SHC test result, and I think it's because I choose things that resonate with my gut/heart a lot of the time, whether or not it was practical (I wanted to be a vet because the thought made me feel Good, and I didn't even consider how I'm fearful of seeing blood until my mom pointed it out,, I REALLY wanted to be a counselour/therapist because studying mental illnesses interested me a lot and I guess it looks good (it might make me look smart and all that) until my family members were against it and thought I wouldn't be able to deal with it) because I FELT like it in the moment. I can change later if it doesn't fit, but at the time, I'm just like, it fits. shh. and because I haven't found a career option that I LOVE (with my heart not my head) that my family is agreeable to, it makes me kinda.. sad as heck, lol.

I think you're a Lion secondary, actually, not primary.

Which makes it... doubly not great that your folks don't seem to support or accept you all that much, even though you really care about pleasing them. I wouldn't be surprised if your Lion sec is damaged, which would make it harder to tell that it's a secondary and not your primary.

(I hope it's not rude to say... sometimes when people fall into toxic relationships, it's partly because their family wasn't exactly a great model for what healthy relationships look like.)

No wonder you're having trouble figuring out your Sorting. You haven't been allowed to exist as yourself for... who knows how long.

but I feel like, one day, I'll just make my own decisions anyway (even if it's.. years down the road) and no one can stop me.

I sure hope so! Good luck 🍀

however, I feel like my morals and values are usually or sometimes built.. over time

Bird!

but I also speculate about things before believing in them strongly anyways

BIRD.

if you tell me something that might affect my worldview, as long as it doesn't touch my "treestalk" of like "does this hurt someone", I might consider it.

BIRRRRRRRRD.

With a hell of a toxic burned/exploded Badger model, and probably a (partly burned?) Lion secondary too.

From your ask it sounds like you're around/approaching college age and are going/planning to go. Colleges in the US (probably elsewhere too?) basically always have free therapy through the student health center. This is a good resource for when you need to pick apart stuff your family taught you, because your family's ideals are always going to seem like they're the normal default thing to you even if they're kinda fucked up (sorry).

You don't have to let go of your Loyalist streak entirely, but if you can swap it for a healthier version and maybe surround yourself with nicer people (want a link to the SHC Discord?), you'll be a lot happier. Your family aren't the only people whose opinions will ever matter to you, and you deserve supportive friends who will care for you as much as you care for them, without asking you to burn yourself out in the name of selflessness or self-sacrifice.

Quit being so mean to yourself. You seem like a genuinely kind person but it sounds like you have a super negative self image. Living your life isn't selfish, caring about things you care about isn't hedonistic, and your interests are worth pursuing even if you end up changing your mind later. (Just get the psych degree. Or General Studies, if your school has it. The right degree is the one you can finish--a lot of jobs will be more open to you just for having a degree, any degree. Yes, it's a classist system, but that's a separate rant.)

no judgement, only internet hugs! You're not the first one to deal with any of this, and it's possible to get through ^^

good luck, we're rooting for you!

-- Paint

[beesgav]

Finally getting into 09! since the strategy I used last time seemed to work well, I’m gonna be doing it again. Thoughts on my first reading session under the cut!

- whoof... name overload. I recognize some, like Berix, but a lot of these names I have no attachment to. but I also know that’s standard, even though it breaks the somewhat-consistent pattern of introducing characters in groups of six. I’ll get used to it

- The green fellow might be Gresh? He’s the defacto main of 09 until Mata Nui comes along, right? And his friends, maybe Kiina and an ice fellow I don’t remember the name of. I don’t think this comic even gives their names.

- Malum is here too. Is he an antagonist?

- Oh yeah, this is where the purpose behind divvying up the genders the way they did early on really comes to light. It comes off as backwards to have an element purely relegated to one gender, but it at least means that, because of how prevalent water is as an element, there will always be a female character within the main cast. Once you take that qualifier away, though, it’ll wind up sliding back into all-male teams, as you can see with Berix, Tarix, etc. It happened earlier with Vezok, but it’s really overt now.

- I just know I’m going to be mixing up Metus and Malum because of their names. Even worse because I think Metus is, like, an ice guy?

- i know i shouldn’t be but I’m avoiding using the wiki this go-round

- “Well, let’s see,” said Strakk. “You want to send a fully loaded carriage eastward through the Black Spike Mountains, over the Dark Falls and then through Creep Canyon.” what creative names

- I’m also assuming that Glatorian are to Agori as Toa are to Matoran - the same species, but with a different set of skills/abilities. Or is Glatorian more just a job an Agori can take up? Are they the same species at all?

- “The only Glatorian Strakk had ever really gotten along with was Malum, one of the fighters from Vulcanus. Even after he was exiled from his village for trying to kill Strakk in the arena, Strakk still respected him.” Okay I’m starting to like Strakk.

- Gresh is baby

- I’m not even joking they keep calling him “little one”

- I have to wonder, when does this take place in relation the story happening on Aqua Magna? Like, I would assume it’s somewhat concurrent considering what happens later, and I know it doesn’t really matter, but I have to be curious

- I also have to wonder the lifespan of an Agori/Glatorian, since Strakk seems to directly remember the Shattering, but Gresh is too young to

- “Mountain Strikers were birds of prey whose wingspan could be as wide as five feet.“ That’s not... too terribly large. Like, it’s big, but that’s smaller than a Bald Eagle

- it’s kind of, uh... hamfisted that Tarduk is like “Man, if only we could control the elements we’re associated with! That would be really cool”

- Oh dang, the Matoran language! I wonder if it was used by the GBs/Agori prior to the shattering, or if this cave was legitimately used by the Matoran while they still worked on the planet. That’s pretty cool

- “You ran straight into a Scarabax swarm. That was stupid,” Strakk explained. “Then you fell into a Scarabax swarm. That was also stupid. The sand bat was smarter than you.” Strakk is such an asshole I really like him

- Gresh... dives into a river and immediately knocks himself out cold

- Maybe I’m biased but I like Kiina a lot

- It also looks like we’re finally getting our elemental cast together! Gresh, Kiina, Ackar, and Strakk are all names I vaguely recognize as being important. Shame everyone associated with rock/earth is, uh... allied with the Skrall?

- At least Malum knows how he stands with the Vorox, I guess. I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to like or dislike him, considering he’s being put up against both the heroes and villains, but isn’t a totally despicable dude either

- AND NOW THEYRE FIGHTING A ROBOT SCORPION

- Ackar’s fire-head thing looks dumb

- Malum keeps calling people “old man”  - brushing aside the fact that “man” and “woman” are now terms at play here - how young is Malum supposed to read as? He tells Ackar he’s past his prime, but honestly I was envisioning Ackar and Kiina as being, like, a little older than Gresh but a fair amount younger than Strakk, but I guess Ackar is closer to being Strakk’s age?

- also, for some reason, even though I’ve never seen anything other than promotional stuff for HF, I keep mixing Malum with William Furno in my head

- it’s probably because he has, like, a mouth. with teeth. That’s just weird to me

- oh god TLR is going to be so weird

???????

why does he have a cordak blaster

- this comic also talks about him killing the strongest male, which implies there are also female vorax, and probably baby vorax. I know we’re on a different planet now but it’s still weird to think about Bionicle Babies

BERIX’S FACE

- “As a vehicle pilot in the arena, he was just one more Agori fighter in a world dominated by Glatorian.” Okay, so this implies that they are considered separate

- “This is bad. This is very, very bad,” said Raanu. He looked up at Gelu and waved the map. “Do you know what this is?” “Bad?” offered Gelu. Maaaan why am I loving the ice Glatorian the most haha

- “ Now and then, Malum would start ranting about his treatment by the villagers of Vulcanus. Gelu would give Ackar a look that said, “Are we sure about this guy?” but he already knew the answer was “No.” I like all these assholes

- Thornax are just spiky bula berries. Or i guess it’s the other way around?

- The relationships between the villages are interesting- Even though they’d do much better to be united and oppose the Skrall and Bone Hunters together, the villagers are fractured by war and have this delicate and potentially costly system set up. Tuma uses that to his advantage. weakening Tajun in particular because he knows that the other villagers will take advantage of their weakened state, and won’t help them in danger.

- Oop, here’s the traitor mentioned for the first time. In my wiki-browsing, I’m aware it’s someone, but I don’t quite remember who. I have suspicions, but I’m not gonna look it up

- “ Strakk sat down, propping his feet up on the table. Kiina knocked them off with a swipe of her armored hand. “ That’s rude, Strakk

- “Why doesn’t that fill me with confidence?” Strakk muttered. “You just better hope the Bone Hunters don’t fill you with Thornax,” Kiina said, smiling. “And ruin my good looks?” Strakk replied. “They wouldn’t dare.” HNG I LIKE THEM A LOT

- This year is also a lot more explicit in terms of characters dying. Like, sure, there likely were fatalities amid the Bohrok crises and the Rahkshi attacks, but the story never focused on how many Matoran actually died. The only place its gotten to a similar level was in 06, where there were a lot of deaths among the Zamor-controlled Matoran of Voya Nui. This time, however, it’s actually, like, really clear about how often and how many Agori and Glatorian are dying

- Ackar is, like, the perfect candidate for retirony considering he’s getting old and the only other Glatorian of Vulcanus is an insane wastelander, but considering rising star boy Gresh isn’t even of his tribe I have a feeling he’s gonna be sticking around for a while

- awwww I like the idea of the Glatorian gradually becoming more heroic and altruistic, even if it’s edging more towards idealism than cynicism. That kinda stuff feels very Bionicle to me, where times are incredibly tough, but in the end the heroes manage to scrape by and create the groundwork for a better future.

OH FUCK

so I, uh... think I may need to cut it here. This has to be where the movie starts, yeah? The site that I’m using to read these volumes changed, so now I can’t tell how far I actually am into the story since I’m reading off of a webpage and not a PDF now.

My plan is to watch the movie and then pick up here when I’m done, since I’m honestly so excited to watch it. I grew up with STNG and I just found out Jeff Bennett is also in it and I’m PUMPED.

[high-supernatural]

The Merge

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 1687

Warnings: typical tvd themes, the merge (not fluff, not smut, there’s a sentence of angst but its not much, mostly just toxic friendship)

Summary: “V” took Kai out of his prison world with a condition that they’d stick together. She helps him find his family and prepare for the merge. ((read part I – IV of the series to understand the backstories))

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series***

-

V and Kai have been out of the prison world for a few weeks. She got him out under the conditions that they would stick together no matter what, and that’s what she was doing, sticking by him.

Kai explained his plans to V when they got there and put together a plan. She knew his true motives, and she wanted to help.

While they prepared, trained, and got everything ready they stayed at motels but were mostly busy with the plan and didn’t see each other very often. The motel they were staying at only had one bed. They checked in in the middle of the night when they got back, “queen room fine?” asked the clerk, “absolutely,” Kai responded in his dramatically sarcastic tone.

“Hope sleeping in the same bed as me doesn’t scare you off… I’m a violent sleeper,” he joked with big eyes.

“Better than sleeping in vamp infested woods with a violent sleeper… I think I’ll be fine,” V responded with the same dramatics.

There were a few nights Kai had woken up in the middle of the night or before V and had intrusive thoughts come into his mind of killing her, not that he really wanted to. When he woke up one morning with his hand resting on her throat, he decided to sleep on the couch instead. He might have been a proclaimed sociopath, but he had morals for killing, and killing people who help him weren’t on that list. It scared him, but he ignored it.

V had the gift of seeing behind people and what they say their motives are, which is part of the reason Kai didn’t scare her. She knew why he started sleeping on the couch but didn’t bother to tell him she knew, just like she knew where he went during the day to antagonize his family, but still didn’t bother to confront him about it. She already knew why and what he was doing.

She liked pushing boundaries with him. To see how far he’d really go or what he’d do if she didn’t act scared or flinch even an inch at the things, he’d say to get a rise out of her. She liked seeing how he’d react to her affections, knowing he hadn’t experienced much of it.

When he started sleeping on the couch, she would sometimes join him, walking over to him with a blanket around her shoulders and laying on top of or next to him under the blanket. She liked how he’d tense up until he fell back asleep, nervous to put his arms around her. Sometimes she’d tell him she had a bad dream and say, “this is the part you put your arms around me,” when he wouldn’t.

They were best friends who loved pushing each other’s buttons.

V found his twin for him and told him where she worked, she found this out through gullible Elena. She didn’t question him about his whereabouts when he found out either, she knew this too.

They made another deal with each other when they started playing out their plan – if either of them was going to be out, they have to tell the other how many hours they’d be gone before the other should start worrying, and the general location they’d be, just in case anything went wrong. They didn’t have to explain what they were doing, they actually preferred if the other didn’t know, it worked perfectly.

When Kai disappeared for longer than he said he’d be gone, V knew to worry. She went to the cemetery he said he’d be around and saw Damon, the person who sent her to the prison world before her and Kai got out.

She hid behind a tree just enough so Kai could see her, but Damon couldn’t. Through the Earth, V sent Kai some of her magic to siphon, just enough so he could siphon the magic out of Mystic Falls that the travelers put there and free himself.

“How do you feel?” V asked Kai when they got back to the motel.

“I feel…. Really good,” he responded, “I soaked up a lot of magic,” he chuckled.

“Do you know how to use it?” She asked, “I can’t even imagine how much magic was in that spell.”

Kai jittered and sat down, “I uh… I should probably practice, you know? Make sure I can control it.”

“Let’s practice then,” V said.

He looked up at her when she said, “push me with your magic.”

“I don’t know if I can control it—” she cut him off, “I can handle it, I can’t die, remember?”

“Remember we can’t hurt each other though, that’s the pact,” he said. Kai was a lot of things, but deal breaking wasn’t usually one of them.

She stood in front of him and pushed his head playfully before getting on his lap with both legs on either side of his, “we said no fighting, this isn’t fighting, it’s practicing.” She pushed his shoulders back and pinched his face to annoy him, “come on, do something to get me off of you,” she played.

He grabbed her arms, “I can’t practice on you,” he spoke to her with an almost serious tone for the first time.

She grabbed his biceps and shocked him with her magic before sending burning waves up his arms, making his face turn in pain.

“Fight back,” she said, “or I’ll go hotter.”

Kai squeezed her biceps as she squeezed his and tried sending the magic she was using on him back to her, but it didn’t work.

“Try harder,” she said.

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, you have to focus,” she sent warmer magic through his arms and down his chest making him groan. “Make me stop at least once, you’re not gonna hurt me, you got this, focus on sending me the pain.”

With that encouragement Kai was successful not only in sending the magic she was using back to her, but sending it back more intensely, causing a sensation of being on fire for a couple of seconds.

When he heard her wince and felt her arms go limp, he knew it worked and quickly pushed her off of him to stand up, not knowing if he could stop if they were still touching.

She let out a “whoof” breath and chuckled, “you did it,” she looked at him, “why the long face?”

He stared at her like he just killed a puppy, “I need someone else to practice on.”

“Kai, it worked, what’s the problem?” she asked.

“I just need someone else to practice on, I’ll be back tonight,”

“Wait, I think I know who you can use,” she said, stopping him from rushing out and finding a random person.

“Elena Gilbert. She’s always pissed me off. When I found out vampires were in town she acted like I was crazy, now she is one. She never treated me how she treats everyone else, she’s still hung up on the fact that her brother confided in me instead of her,” V said, “everyone’s always saving her and letting others die for her own life. I think she could be put in her place a little better.”

Kai was always confused about why V was so helpful to him, another thing that scared him a little. It was unusual to him.

He practiced his magic on Elena at the high school after he left while V did her own thing, which usually included writing, drawing, or causing some chaos, until she got a call from Elena.

‘great,’ she rolled her eyes before she answered the phone.

“What?” she answered harshly.

“Kai just tortured me for hours,” Elena whined.

“Ok? How is that my problem?” V answered, knowing that all of them still didn’t know she had been with Kai this whole time.

“He’s on his way to the woods to complete the merge!” Elene blurted out.

“What,” she said with concern this time, “I’m on my way,” V left and went to try and stop Kai from doing the merge so soon.

She called him multiple times on her way, but he didn’t answer. When she had got there, Kai and Luke’s eyes were already white, and they were about to complete the merge.

Just when she was about to run up and stop them, they both fell back, and everybody stood like statues until Jo ran to help Luke.

V watched them both with wide eyes, looking for psychic signs that one of them has died or merged, but saw nothing.

After a few seconds of watching, she walked up to Kai. Everybody was watching Luke at this point, so V knelt down and put her hand on his chest, feeling for magic but felt none.

She teared up and tried blinking them away, shaking him by his shirt and saying his name before pressing her hand on his chest to transfer magic to him, waking him up.

His eyes darted open and he grabbed her wrist, sitting up silently. Nobody had noticed him yet. V sat behind him with her hand still on his chest when he turned around, “thanks, kid,” he whispered before he stood up.

Kai said some words to Jo before turning around and offering his hand to V before they walked off. They heard them ask, “did they just leave together,” but ignored it.

V drove them back to the motel and glanced at Kai every so often with worried expressions as he sat silently and wondered at his hands, “how do you feel now?” she asked.

“I feel good.. I feel.. different, I don’t know how to describe it,” he said in breaths.

“That’s good, I think,” V said still confused and paused for a few seconds to think, “we should get out of town, like, tonight, they’re going to look for us,”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered,” is all Kai said.

She looked over at him with a worried face again, “no really, we need to get out of town,” she was serious.

“I dunno, I kinda like it here,” he smiled ominously.

 ((read the next story for continuation of this one))

[365days365movies]

January 16, 2021: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014)

I am a massive comic book nerd. Not unusual these days, to be fair. But I’m definitely up there, as far as my obsession with Marvel and DC go. And, yeah, I stick mostly to those two houses, and their various imprints.

Why do I bring this up? Well...remember this movie?

Kick-Ass was a pretty big deal when it came out in 2010, as it was a Marvel Comics movie that was completely unrelated to the relatively new Marvel Cinematic Universe. Based of a 2008 comic book written by Mark Millar and drawn by John Romita Jr., the film was directed by Matthew Vaughn, and featured a more realistic take on how real-world superheroes would actually work.

Vaughn and Millar by this point at least, were friends. Around 2012, they’re getting drunk at a pub together, and talking movies. The topic of spy movies come up, and how there hasn’t really been a good, non-parody, fun spy movie, and that there should be. And that was the bulk of their conversation.

Enter Dave Gibbons, a legendary comic book artist, whom you may know from drawing the comic book that was turned into this:

Oh yeah, he’s a big deal. Gibbons and Millar end up getting together to write a fun spy comic book based on this idea. Vaughn, meanwhile, is getting ready to direct X-Men: Days of Future Past, the sequel to X-Men: First Class, which Vaughn directed. That’s a good movie, by the way, even if I have...issues...with the treatment of the X-Men in film. Maybe one day I’ll get into that, we’ll see what happens. Ask me about it if you’re curious.

Anyway, Millar goes to Vaughn with this script, and Vaughan looks at it and realizes that he needs to direct this movie before somebody else makes it. So he leaves Days of Future Past, and he signs on to...

I feel like it’s an obligation, as a comic book dude, to watch this film. I should also read the book, but I didn’t do that with Kick-Ass, so to hell with it! Let’s get this recap started! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Starting off with some Money for Nothing, and somewhere in the Middle East, 1997! We go into a stone temple, where some kind of mission is taking place. A surprise grenade causes the loss of one of the agents. The surviving agents are Merlin (Mark Strong), Lancelot AKA James Spencer (Jack Davenport), and Galahad, AKA Harry Hart (Colin Firth).

Hart, feeling guilty over the death of this agent, tells his wife, Michelle (Samantha Womack) and child Eggsy (yes, Eggsy) of his sacrifice, and gives Eggsy a medal.

From there, we jump forward 17 years, to Argentina where...Mark Hamill?

Holy shit, it’s Mark Hamill! Apparently, he’s playing Professor James Arnold, and being held hostage by a group of mysterious men. Just then, he’s rescued by Lancelot, showing up with some classic James Bond-style swagger and asking for a cup of sugar, sardonically.

He kicks the asses of these guys, but is SLICED IN HALF BY A MAN WITH SWORD LEGS WHAT THE FUCK????

I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was watching the best thing I’ve ever goddamn seen. And as if that weren’t enough, she’s working for Samuel L. “Motherfucker” Jackson, playing Richmond Valentine. I am...I am so pleased.

We go to the Kingsmen headquarters, where Lancelot is being mourned by the Kingmen and their leader MICHAEL CAINE, REALLY, HOLY SHIT

Ahem. Sorry, uh...the star-studded cast has basically caused me to have a minor aneurysm. Caine plays Arthur, the leader of the Kingsmen. Get it? I can dig it, I’m a sucker for a good Arthurian reference. Anyway, now that Lancelot’s dead, it’s time to find a new candidate. Apparently, the man that died 17 years ago was part of an “experiment” by Hart, which Arthur says has failed. Galahad calls Arthur a snob, and says that they need to evolve with the times. \

Speaking of that former candidate, how’s his son doing?

Not stellar, it seems. His mom is dating a very unsavory gentleman, and not really taking good care of her youngest daughter. Eggsy (Taron Egerton), on the other hand, is a carefree delinquent. After engaging in an entertaining backwards car chase with the police (it’s cool), he gets arrested. He refuses to give up his friends, and he instead asks for a phone call.He looks at the medallion around his neck, and remembers that he can use the number of the back to contact someone for help. He uses a specific code phrase, but it appears not to have worked. But then, Eggsy is turned loose with little more than a phone call. That’s when Eggsy meets Hart.

We find out that Eggsy has a high IQ and Olympic-level athletics, but has dropped out of the Marines, and has been arrested for drugs and other illegal activities. After being read out by Hart, Eggsy goes on an anger-filled diatribe about the differences in privilege between the two of them. Although it’s short, it’s a powerful speech.

But that speech is interrupted by the owner of the car that Eggsy stole the previous night, as well as his gang. They’re yearning for a fight with Eggsy, and they threaten Hart. He doesn’t take that well, as he shuts the doors and windoes to the pub. Time to teach a lesson.

Yup, I’m giving this fight the posted video award. It might be short, but it’s also one of the best and coolest sequences I’ve ever seen in a spy movie. And OH, it’s giving me that gadget shit I was missing from the Bond movies.

After one of the most enjoyable fight sequences I’ve seen in a while, Eggsy’s understandably stunned. So is his stepfather Dean (Geoff Bell), the leader of the gang that Hart beat up in the pub. He’s not happy, and he beats Eggsy in their apartment, and that scene is...WHOOF. Much to their surprise, however, Hart’s left a device on Eggsy’s back. He threatens Dean through the device, and tells Eggsy to meet him at a tailor that he’d mentioned.

Once Eggsy escapes from Dean and the gang via nest parkour tricks, he makes his way to the tailor, where Hart officially brings him into the fold, giving him the opportunity to become a Kingsman. He exposits the history of the agency as a private group of spies, meant to protect the world while not bowing to the bureaucracy that plagues government-affiliated spy institutions.

We get to go to Kingsman Headquarters proper, and yeah...yeah, it’s cool. As compared to the other recruits, Eggsy’s pretty obviously out of place. This, of course, is part of the point, as Hart believes the Kingsmen could use someone with different life experiences and background. That would be the experiment mentioned earlier.

Eggsy’s competitors include Roxy (Sophie Cookson), who appears to actually be polite to him, unlike most of the potentials. They settle in for the night...but not for long. Their quarters fills with water, as the entirety of the Kingsmen head towards the showerheads and toilets for air. While they all succeed, Eggsy is the one who actually gets everyone out, by literally punching the window.

Unfortunately, for one of the candidates...it’s too late. These candidates could die in the hiring process. Rough.

Sadly, Mark Hamill also doesn’t quite make it, as Hart finds him, surprisingly freed from Valentine’s capture. As he’s questioned, Valentine is forced to kill him via Suicide Squad implant, and barely escaped from his men. Valentine and his henchwoman, Gazelle (Sofia Boutella) are trying to figure out who the Kingsmen are, to no avail at the moment.

Back with Merlin, who’s training the Kingsman candidates! They’re all told to get a puppy! Aw. Eggsy chooses J.B. a pug, under the mistaken impression that it’s a bulldog. And I’m not a pug person...but that puppy is cute as shit.

Time marches on, and the Kingsmen continue their training. Eggsy’s colleagues continue to discriminate against him, especially Charlie (Edward Holcroft). Hart, who was knocked out by the explosion, eventually wakes up. Valentine goes around to political leaders and proposes his plan to “save the world,” whatever that’s about to mean. Apparently, that includes giving the King of Sweden a surgical implant of some kind. Huh.

This, of course includes some, uh...conflict with Gazelle.

Awesome.

Eggsy’s in the final 6! As Hart congratulates him over this, we finally get some exposition on Richmond Valentine’s plan. See, that implant is the Suicide Squad bomb that killed Hamill, and Gazelle also has one. Additionally, he’s released a plan to the world that will provide free internet and phone data...forever. Not ominous at all, that.

After a cool skydiving training sequence, only three candidates are left. Hart, meanwhile, poses as a wealthy philanthropist, donating to Valentine’s cause. As a result, he’s treated to an extravagant dinner...of McDonald’s. Yes, it is the best product placement I’ve seen in a while, in case you were wondering. That reveal was hilarious.

Anyway, their conversation turns from talking about climate change studies and concerns, to their opinion of James Bond movies, in a lovely little piece of meta flavor. At this point, they would appear to understand each other’s role in the play, as it were. Forgot to mention, Valentine’s been kidnapping anyone who disagrees with his goals, while also distributing his free internet cards. So, there’s that. But he’s also trying to figure out what exactly the “Kingsmen” are. Speaking of...

Our three remaining Kingsman candidates are assigned a mission to seduce a young dignitary. However, all three of them make a mistake, and allow themselves to get drugged at a party, by someone wanting to know who Hart and Kingsmen are. When Eggsy wakes up, he’s been strapped to train tracks. Uh oh.

Despite an oncoming train, Eggsy doesn’t give the man any formation. Which, of course, was the point. It’s Hart, helping to give the Kingsman candidates a little loyalty test, which both Eggsy and Roxy pass with flying colors. But Charlie...Charlie’s a coward who immediately gives everything up, including Arthur himself.

Eggsy gets to spend 24 hours with Hart, before being thrown headfirst into a mission. Hart explains that being a Kingsman means being a gentleman, which Eggsy isn’t. Hart, of course, plans to fix that.

They head to the tailor, and check out some spy gadgets. And much to their surprise, Valentine is also there, under the guise of getting a suit. Hart takes the opportunity to recommend a hatter, who gives him a top hat with built in listening devices. I love it.

Eggsy, meanwhile, speaks with Arthur at Kingsman HQ. He’s commanded to perform one final test: kill his pug, J.B. Which...yeah, damn, that sucks. He doesn’t do it, understandably. Unfortunately...Roxy does kill her dog. She succeeds...and Eggsy’s kicked out of the Kingsman candidacy. Which feels like a bullshit play, if I’m honest.

Eggsy steals Arthur’s car, then goes back home. As he’s about to confront his stepfather, Hart brings back the car via remote access, then explains to Eggsy that the gun was filled with blanks, and that Eggsy ended up giving up his shot. He also reveals that the first candidate to die...didn’t actually die! It’s been a ruse all along, meant to test the candidates under the strictest of conditions. Which sucks, obviously, because Eggsy’s out of the program.

And at that point, Valentine says something of note, revealing that he plans to go to a hate church in Kentucky to begin his master plan. Hart heads there, and tells Eggsy to stay put.

We get treated to just...just the loveliest of sermons. Disgusting. But then...

...that’s the point, isn’t it?

Because Valentine uses the SIM cards to create a signal that drives the parishioners crazy. Hart’s also in the church, however, and he also starts going crazy. Which leaves the question: what happens when a highly trained spy goes up against untrained civilians, has a bunch of gadgets...and has absolutely no restraint whatsoever?

A MASSACRE, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS. And most surprisingly, it’s a massacre that we actually SEE. Hart basically kills almost EVERYBODY in the church. I’ll put the video up, but...y’know, be warned here. It ain’t pretty.

Hart comes to, and realizes exactly what he’s done. He leaves, only to be confronted by Valentine and his men. The Bond metaphor finally comes full-circle, explained directly by Valentine. But instead of explaining his whole plan and devising some complicated way to kill Hart that he’ll inevitably escape from...

He just shoots Hart in the head. Holy shit. And this is while Merlin, Arthur, and yes, Eggsy watch on through Hart’s home feed. Looks like a new Kingsman is needed.

Arthur tells Merlin to assemble the Kingsmen. But Eggsy...Eggsy has other plans. Thinking on Hart’s words about wanting to do something good with his life. He goes to Arthur to talk to him about Hart’s death. Arthur invites him in for brandy. And that’s...when my mind exploded.

HE’S FUCKING IN ON IT?!? Michael Caine, NOOOO! Turns out that Valentine’s convinced Arthur of his true plan: a culling. He believes that the Earth’s temperature because there’s simply too much humanity, like a body trying to kill a virus. And so...he’s going to make the virus exterminate itself. And that argument’s enough to win Caine over.

Turns out that the implant is meant to protect those individuals against a neurological signal emitted by the SIM cards, the same one that went off in the church. Arthur, realizing that Eggsy understands exactly what’s going on, poisons him, then asks if he would like to join them. Eggsy refuses...and Arthur sets off the remote poison to kill him.

But NOPE! EGGSY SWITCHED THE FUCKIN’ GLASSES! I love this movie. Arthur dies, and Eggsy uses the opportunity to dig the implant from his neck. He takes that and Arthur’s phone to Merlin and Lancelot, who realize that they can’t trust anyone at this point. And so, the three of them - yes, the three of them - go to stop Valentine.

And, yeah...I can dig it. OH HOW I CAN DIG it.

Roxy goes up in an experimental vehicle to bring down the satellite, Merlin is flying the plane, and Eggsy...Eggsy’s the one going in disguised as Arthur, in order to infiltrate the mountain lair of Valentine. Here, he and the other beneficiaries wait it out, while the world literally tears itself apart. Now wearing a bespoke suit and playing the role of a gentleman, Eggsy enters the lion’s den.

But as expected, it’s time to hit some snags. Roxy waits juuuuuust a little too long, and one of the balloons in her craft pops. As for Eggsy, he meets an old “friend” of his in the form of Charlie, who’s now working for Valentine.

The missile’s fired just in time, as Charlie’s taken out and Eggsy runs for the plane. AWESOME climax here as Eggsy escapes. I mean it; it is VERY cool. They succeed JUST in time, and the satellite is destroyed. However, Valentine’s still managed to partially start the process, and they can’t do anything about that.

Eggsy’s gotta go BACK in, before Valentine gets another satellite to trigger the signal worldwide. Now armed with Hart’s AWESOME umbrella, he makes his way there under heavy gunshot. They’re also teaming up against Merlin in the plane, so he’s not doing great. And that when Eggsy has the idea...to turn the implants on. ALL of them.

It’s amazing. Violence in fireworks. So, it’s too bad that it doesn’t stop the signal. It works, and people start to tear each other apart all across the world. But only for was long as Valentine has his hands on the desk. Eggsy manages to stop that by laying down some suppressive fire.

That provokes a response.

..This movie is, for lack of a better term, fucking rad.

Gazelle and Eggsy have an awesome fight, worthy of any James Bond movie, seriously. I really want to give it the video post honor, but I’ve done that too much already. For god’s sake, I literally JUST did that.

Gazelle dies (it’s kinda goofy how she dies, if I’m honest), and Eggsy kills Valentine with her prosthetic leg. It’s over, as the signal ends, and Eggsy even gets the girl. Not Roxy, the Princess of Sweden. Not going into it, but it’s funny.

And that’s Kingsman: The Secret Service! Honestly, I gotta say, that was a rad-as-shit movie, and...

Ooh, a mid-credits scene! Eggsy goes back home, to the pub, where his stepfather and mom are hanging out with the gang. And let’s just say...Dean’s gonna get a little comeuppance. Manners, after all, maketh man.

OK, THAT’S Kingsman: The Secret Service! And that, again, was pretty rad. See you in the Epilogue in a few!

[braincoins]

Honestly, I sometimes find the sheer amount of sexual/romantic/gender identities overwhelming. When I was in high school, all you ever heard about was gay, lesbian, and bi. Maybe an occasional “trans” but it was usually in front of “-vestite” (transvestite). We didn’t have all these other identities...

...and I’m not saying that was a good thing at all, because I would have loved to have heard about asexuality and especially autochorissexuality back then. Oh, that would have been SO FUCKING USEFUL. 

But what I am saying is that it’s just hard for my old, withered brain to keep up sometimes. Like, I just reblogged that post about “oriented aroaces.” Whoof, that’ll take some getting used to.

BUT!  I will work on doing it! Because I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m invalidating them or the various facets of their identity. I don’t want to do that. I might screw up accidentally, but if I do? Just correct me, and I’ll keep working on it, and I’ll get it, eventually. 

And even if you’re not my MAJESTIC AGE, even if you’re younger (or older) and you’re having trouble with all of this? 

THAT IS ALSO OKAY.

It feels like - especially on Tumblr - that you have to KNOW YOUR IDENTITY and that it is then WRITTEN IN STONE (as soon as you put it in your bio). But none of that is true. 

It’s okay not to know. It’s okay not to be sure yet. It’s okay to put it in your bio... or not! It’s okay to say “I’m _____” even if you’re not really sure yet that it totally fits (that’s why I love words like “queer,” because not only does it cover a lot of bases at once, it keeps you from feeling like you’re required to specify yourself).

Remember that you don’t owe information about your sexual/romantic/gender identities to ANYONE you don’t want to give that information to (well, slight caveat: you might want to tell possible partners - in either the sexual and/or romantic senses - about that stuff).

It’s okay to realize some other “label” fits you better now. It’s okay to think, “Hey, maybe I’m not X, I’m actually Y.” It’s okay to struggle if a long-time friend who has used This Name and These Pronouns for SO LONG suddenly changes them - I’m going through that with a friend of mine I’ve had for over a decade, actually. And sometimes I mess up - over 10 years of using One Set of Pronouns is hard to change! - but I’m getting better. I mess up less often now. 

You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to decide everything all at once. And you can change your mind on what decisions you do make. 

It’s called growing up human.

The most important thing is just to Be Kind. Be thoughtful and considerate, because we’re all struggling. Struggling to correctly identify ourselves, let alone everyone else around us.

Be Kind to Others, and, most of all, Be Kind To Yourself.

[fuckofffuckofffuckoffloveme]

Runaway - Part Seven

~Masterlist~

Concept: Hazel Richards is a twenty-year-old woman living in London. When she meets a mysterious time-travelling alien known only as the Hunter, she’s thrust into a world of wonder she could only have imagined.

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

The Hunter's face twisted in agony as the electricity lanced through her body, but she managed to raise her left arm, ripping the ID card away telekinetically, and shoot it across the room against the collar of the revealed Slitheen, causing both it and Green to be enveloped with the electricity. "Deadly to humans, maybe. But I bet you don't like it much either." She ran out to where the armed police were waiting at their posts. "Oi! If you want aliens, you've got them. They're inside Downing Street. Come on!" They followed her as she ran back in, only to find Asquith back in his skin suit, Green looking outraged.

"Where have you been? I called for help. I sounded the alarm. There was this lightning, this kind of, er, electricity, and they all collapsed!" Green shouted.

The police checked the bodies. "I think they're all dead," one reported.

"That's what I'm saying," Green agreed. "She did it! That woman there." He was pointing straight at the Hunter.

The Hunter glanced at the policeman nearest to her. "If I were to tell you the Prime Minister is an alien in disguise, would you believe me?"

The man shook his head. "No."

"Fair enough." She sprinted off, but didn't get far before two sets of the armed police cornered her.

"Under the jurisdiction of the Emergency Protocols, I authorise you to execute this woman," Asquith commanded.

"Well, yes, uh, you see, the thing is, if I were going to execute someone by backing them against the wall, there's just one teeny tiny thing I would've done differently," the Hunter told them. The lift dinged behind her, and she stepped in. "Don't stand them against the lift!" She pressed the button and the doors closed before the police could open fire.

***

Meanwhile, Harriet and Hazel had their own problems. Chased by another Slitheen, they just barely saw the Hunter as the lift doors opened before they raced past the distracted Slitheen, slipping into a sitting room. "Hide!" Hazel instructed, hiding behind a curtain in the window. Harriet opted to crouch behind a draught excluder screen. The girls held their breath as they heard Margaret the Slitheen enter.

"Oh, such fun. Little human children, where are you? Sweet little humeykins, come to me. let me kiss you better," she crooned. "Kiss you with my big, green lips." Hazel made a face, even as she heard two more enter. "My brothers," Margaret greeted.

"Happy hunting?" Green the Slitheen asked.

"It's wonderful," Margaret replied. "The more you prolong it, the more they stink."

"Sweat and fear," Asquith said, sniffing deeply.  

"I can smell an old girl," Green stated. "Stale bird and brittle bones."

"And a ripe youngster, all hormones and adrenaline," Margaret sniffed. "Fresh enough to bend before she snaps." Margaret pulled back the curtain, and Hazel screamed.

Harriet ran out from her hiding place. "No! Take me first! Take me!"

The Hunter burst into the room, spraying the Slitheen with a fire extinguisher. "Out, with me!" Hazel pulled the curtain over Margaret, then she and Harriet joined the Hunter by the door. "Who the hell are you?"

"Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North," the woman replied.

"Nice to meet you," the Hunter said, telekinetically shoving the Slitheen back before throwing the empty fire extinguisher at them.

"Likewise," Harriet agreed, and the three of them ran out.

"We need to head for the Cabinet Room," the Hunter exclaimed, leading the way.

"The Emergency Protocols are in there," Harriet stated. "They give instructions for aliens."

The Hunter grinned. "Harriet Jones, I like you."

"And I like you too," Harriet returned.

***

As they entered the Cabinet Room, the Hunter grabbed a decanter of alcohol from the side, hovering it above her silver palm while pointing her sonic screwdriver at it with her other hand. "One more move and my sonic device will triplicate the flammability of this alcohol. Whoof, we all go up. So back off." The Slitheen took a few steps back into the outer office, and the Hunter nodded. "Right then. Question time. Who exactly are the Slitheen?"

"They're aliens," Harriet supplied helpfully."

The Hunter sighed. "Yes, I got that, thanks."

"Who are you, if not human?" Green questioned.

Harriet frowned. "Who's not human?"

"She's not human," Hazel answered.

"She's not human?"

"Can I have a bit of hush?" the Hunter asked, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," Harriet muttered.

"So, what's the plan?" the Hunter demanded. She laughed a little when the Slitheen remained silent. "Come on. You've got a spaceship hidden in the North Sea. It's transmitting a signal. You've murdered your way to the top of government. What for, invasion?"

Asquith snorted. "Why would we invade this God-forsaken rock?"

The Hunter's expression didn't change. "Then something's brought the Slitheen race here. What is it?"

"The Slitheen race?" Asquith repeated.

Green snickered. "Slitheen is not our species. Slitheen is our surname. Jocrassa Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day-Slitheen at your service."

"So you're family," the Hunter nodded.

"A family business," Green agreed.

"Then you're out to make a profit. How can you do that on a God-forsaken rock?" the Hunter questioned.

"Ah, excuse me?" Asquith interrupted. "Your device will do what? Triplicate the flammability?"

The Hunter blinked. "Is... Is that what I said?" she asked, shrugging.

"You've making it up," Asquith accused.

"Ah, well. Nice try. Harriet, have a drink. I think you're going to need it." The decanter floated around to the woman.

"You pass it to the left first," Harriet reminded her.

"Sorry," the Hunter muttered, not taking her eyes off the Slitheen as she floated the alcohol back round to Hazel.

"Thanks," she muttered as it landed in her hands.

"Now we can end this hunt with a slaughter," Asquith smirked.

"Don't you think we should run?" Hazel suggested, taking a big gulp of the alcohol.

The Hunter shook her head. "Do you know, Downing Street had a fascinating history. Two thousand years ago, this was marsh land. 1730, it was occupied by a Mr Chicken. He was a nice guy. 1796, this was the Cabinet Room. If the Cabinet's in session and in danger, these are about the four safest walls in the whole of Great Britain. End of lesson." She lifted a small panel by the door, and pressed a button. Metal shutters crashed down over the windows and doors, sealing them in. She turned back to the others. "Installed in 1991. Three inches of steel lining every single wall. They'll never get in."

Hazel nodded. "Art?"

"Yeah?"

"How do we get out?"

There was a pause. "Ah."

***

Later, the Hunter dragged Ganesh's corpse into a small store room, next to the body of the Prime Minister. "Sorry, Indra," she muttered, before heading out and closing the cupboard, going over to Hazel and Harriet at the table. "Right, what have we got? Any terminals, anything?"

"Nope," Hazel shook her head. "This place is antique. What I don't get is, when they killed the Prime Minister, why didn't they use him as a disguise?"

"He's too slim," the Hunter answered. "They're big old beasts. They need to fit inside big humans."

Hazel frowned. "But the Slitheen are about eight feet. How do they fit inside?"

"That's the device around their necks." The Hunter pulled off her beanie and ruffled her hair, slipping the hat into one of many pockets. "Compression field. Literally shrinks them down a bit. That's why there's all that gas. It's a big exchange."

"Wish I had a compression field. I could fit a size smaller," Hazel joked. The Hunter rolled her eyes.

"Excuse me, people are dead!" Harriet looked horrified. "This is not the time for making jokes."

"Sorry," Hazel bit her lip. "You get used to this stuff when you're friends with her."

Harriet blinked. "Well, that's a strange friendship."

The Hunter frowned. "Harriet Jones. I've heard that name before. Harriet Jones. You're not famous for anything, are you?"

"Oh, hardly," Harriet shook her head.

"Rings a bell. Harriet Jones..."

"Lifelong backbencher, I'm afraid, and a fat lot of use I'm being now," Harriet sighed. "The Protocols are redundant. They list the people who could help, and they're all dead downstairs."

"Hasn't it got, like, defence codes and things? Couldn't we just launch a nuclear bomb at them?" Hazel suggested.

Harriet looked at her weirdly. "You're a very violent young woman."

"I'm serious," Hazel raised her eyebrows. "We could."

"Well, there's nothing like that in here," Harriet shrugged. "Nuclear strikes do need a release code, yes, but it's kept secret by the United Nations."

"Say that again," the Hunter requested suddenly, looking up.

"What, about the codes?"

"All of it," the Hunter nodded.

"Well, the British Isles can't gain access to atomic weapons without a Special Resolution from the UN," Harriet repeated.

Hazel snorted. "Like that's ever stopped them."

"Exactly, given our past record. And I voted against that, thank you very much," Harriet said, before turning back to the Hunter. "The codes have been taken out of the government's hands and given to the UN. Is it important?"

"Everything's important," the Hunter replied.

Harriet sighed. "If only we knew what the Slitheen wanted." She laughed a little. "Listen to me. I'm saying Slitheen as if it's normal."

"What do they want, though?" Hazel wondered.

The Hunter shrugged. "Well, they're just one family, so it's not an invasion. They don't want Slitheen World. They're out to make money. That means they want to use something. Something here on Earth. Some kind of asset."

"Like what, gold? Oil? Water?" Harriet asked.

"You've very good at this," the Hunter complimented.

"Thank you," Harriet smiled.

"Harriet Jones," the Hunter mused. "Why do I know that name?"

Hazel jumped as her phone beeped. "Oh, that's me." She pulled it out.

"But we're sealed off," Harriet protested. "How did you get a signal?"

"She zapped it. Super phone," Hazel replied, not looking up.

"Then we can phone for help," Harriet suggested. "You must have contacts."

"Dead downstairs, yeah," the Hunter snorted.

"It's Mike," Hazel muttered, opening the text, her eyes widening when she saw the picture he'd sent.

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Oh, tell him we're busy."

"Yeah, no," Hazel shook her head, showing her friend the picture of a Slitheen Mike had messaged. When the Hunter's eyes widened, Hazel dialled. "Mike? That was one of them aliens, yeah?"

"No, no, no, no, no. Not just alien, but like, proper alien," Mike told her. "All stinking, and wet, and disgusting. And more to the point, it wanted to kill us!"

"I could've died!" Jason cried in the background.

Hazel winced. "Is he all right, though? Don't put him on, just tell me."

The Hunter grabbed Hazel's phone telekinetically, ignoring her squeak of surprise. "Is that Spike? Don't talk, just shut up and go to your computer."

"It's Mike, and why should I?" Mike questioned.

She sighed. "Mikey the Pikey, I might just choke before I finish this sentence, but, er, I need your help." The Hunter started giving him instructions to hack into the UNIT website.

"It says password," Mike stated.

The Hunter plugged the phone into a conference speaker. "Say again?"

"It's asking for the password," Mike repeated.

"Buffalo," the Hunter replied. "Two Fs, one L."

"So, what's that website?" Jason asked.

"All the secret information known to mankind," Mike told him. "See, they've known about aliens for years. They just kept us in the dark."

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Mike, you were born in the dark."

"Oh, leave him alone," Hazel sighed, smirking a little despite herself.

"Thank you," Mike said smugly. "Password again."

"Just repeat it every time," the Hunter replied, sitting on the table. "Big Ben - why did the Slitheen go and hit Big Ben?"

"You said to gather the experts, to kill them," Harriet stated.

The Hunter snorted. "That lot would've gathered for a weather balloon. You don't need to crash land in the middle of London."

"The Slitheen are hiding, but then they put the entire planet on Red Alert," Hazel mused. "What would they do that for?"

Jason scoffed. "Oh, listen to her."

Hazel glared at her phone. "At least I'm trying."

"Well, I've got a question, if you don't mind. Since that woman walked into our lives, I have been attacked in the streets, I have had creatures from the pits of hell in my own living room, and my sister disappear off the face of the Earth," Jason complained.

Hazel rolled her eyes. "I told you what happened."

"I'm talking to her," Jason clarified. "Cause I've seen this life of yours, Hunter, and maybe you get off on it, and maybe you think it's all clever and smart, but you tell me. Just answer me this. Is my sister safe?"

"I'm fine," Hazel said weakly, seeing how the Hunter had frozen in place, curling some of her hair around her metal fingers with a haunted look in her eyes.

"Is she safe?" Jason questioned. "Will she always be safe? Can you promise me that? Well, what's the answer?"

"We're in," Mike stated, and just like that, the Hunter was back to normal.

"Now then, on the left at the top, there's a tab, an icon. Little concentric circles. Click on that," she ordered.

"What is it?" Mike asked as sound started playing from his laptop.

"The Slitheen have got a spaceship in the North Sea, and it's transmitting that signal. Now hush, let me work out what it's saying." The Hunter closed her eyes, crossing her legs on the table top, concentrating.

"She'll have to answer me one day," Jason muttered.

"Hush!" Mike hissed.

"It's some sort of message," the Hunter murmured, not opening her eyes.

"What's it say?" Hazel wondered quietly, sitting next to her on the table.

"Don't know. It's on a loop, keeps repeating," the Time Lady replied. Her brow creased as Mike's doorbell rang. "Hush!"

"That's not me," Mike stated. "Go and see who that is."

"It's three o'clock in the morning," Jason protested.

"Well, go and tell them that," Mike suggested.

"It's beaming out into space, who's it for?" the Hunter sighed, putting her head in her hands.

"It's him!" Jason shouted. "It's the thing, it's the Slitheen!"

"They've found us," Mike exclaimed.

"I need that signal," the Hunter muttered, only half listening.

"Never mind the signal, get out!" Hazel cried, making the Hunter open her eyes in realisation of what was happening. "Jace, just get out! Get out!"

"We can't," Mike told her. "It's by the front door." He paused. "Oh my God, it's unmasking. it's going to kill us."

"There's got to be some way of stopping them," Harriet implored, looking at the Hunter. "You're supposed to be the expert, think of something."

"I'm trying!" the Hunter snapped.

"I'll take it on, Jace," Mike said bravely. "You just run. Don't look back. Just run." The door splintered.

"That's my brother," Hazel whispered, her eyes wide.

The Hunter sighed. "Right, if we're going to find their weakness, we need to find out where they're from, Which planet. So, judging by their basic shape, that narrows it down to five thousand planets within travelling distance. What else do we know about them? Information!"

"They're green," Hazel supplied.

"Yep, narrows it down."

"Good sense of smell."

"Narrows it down."

"They can smell adrenaline."

"Narrows it down."

"The pig technology," Harriet suggested.

"Narrows it down," the Hunter nodded, closing her eyes.

"The spaceship in the Thames, you said slipstream engine?" Hazel remembered.

"It's getting in!" Mike shouted.

"They hunt like it's a ritual," Hazel added.

"Narrows it down."

"Wait a minute," Harriet said. "Did you notice? When they fart, if you'll pardon the word, it doesn't just smell like a fart, if you'll pardon the word, it's something else. What is it? It's more like, er..."

"Bad breath!" Hazel realised.

"That's it," Harriet agreed.

"Calcium decay!" the Hunter nodded. "Now, that narrows it down!"

"We're getting there, Jace!" Hazel called.

"Too late!" Mike yelled.

"Calcium phosphate," the Hunter thought aloud. "Organic calcium. Living calcium. Creatures made out of living calcium. What else? What else? Hyphenated surname. Yes! That narrows it down to one planet. Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"Oh, yeah, great. We could write 'em a letter," Mike scoffed.

"Get into the kitchen!" the Hunter ordered, opening her eyes.

"It's going to rip us apart!" Jason cried as they barricaded the kitchen door.

"Calcium, weakened by the compression field. Acetic acid. Vinegar!" the Hunter cheered.

"Just like Hannibal!" Harriet smiled.

The Hunter grinned. "Just like Hannibal. Mike, have you got any vinegar?"

"How should I know?" the man asked incredulously.

"It's your kitchen!" the Hunter raised her eyebrows.

"Cupboard by the sink, middle shelf," Hazel supplied.

Judging by the proximity of his voice, Jason had taken the phone. "Oh, give it here. What do you need?"

"Anything with vinegar!" the Hunter replied.

"Gherkins," Jason muttered. "Ugh, pickled onions. Pickled eggs."

The Hunter shared a glance with Hazel. "That's disgusting."

The end of the fight was the sound of the door breaking down, Jason throwing the mixture at the Slitheen, and the thing exploding.

"Hannibal?" Hazel raised an eyebrow.

"Hannibal crossed the Alps by dissolving boulders with vinegar," Harriet explained.

"Oh, well, there you go then." The ladies toasted the moment with a glass of port from the decanter.

***

Later, Mike had turned on the TV for a broadcast from Green. "Listen to this."

"Ladies and gentlemen, nations of the world, humankind," Green greeted. "The greatest experts in extra-terrestrial events came here tonight. They gathered in the common cause, but the news I bring you now is grave indeed. The experts are dead, murdered right in front of me by alien hands. Peoples of the Earth, heed my words. These visitors do not come in peace. Our inspectors have searched the sky above our heads and they have found massive weapons of destruction capable of being deployed within forty five seconds."

The Hunter sat up, narrowing her eyes. "What?!"

"Our technicians can baffle the alien probes, but not for long. We are facing extinction, unless we strike first. The United Kingdom stands directly beneath the belly of the mother ship," Green stated. "I beg of the United Nations, pass an emergency resolution. Give us the access codes. A nuclear strike at the heart of the beast is our only chance of survival. Because from this moment on it is my solemn duty to inform you planet Earth is at war."

"He's making it up," the Hunter growled. "There's no weapons up there, there's no threat. He just invented it."

"Do you think they'll believe him?" Harriet asked.

"They did last time," Hazel pointed out.

"That's why the Slitheen went for spectacle," the Hunter sighed. "They want the whole world panicking, because you lot, you get scared, you lash out."

"They release the defence codes," Hazel continued.

"And the Slitheen go nuclear," the Hunter finished.

"But why?" Harriet frowned.

The Hunter stormed over to the shutters, opening them to see Margaret standing outside, back in her skin suit. "You get the codes, release the missiles, but not into space because there's nothing there. You attack every other country on Earth. They retaliate, fight back. World War Three. Whole planet gets nuked."

"And we can sit through it safe in our spaceship waiting in the Thames," Margaret smirked. "Not crashed, just parked. Only two minutes away."

Harriet frowned. "But you'll destroy the planet, this beautiful place. What for?"

"Profit," the Hunter told her. "That's what the signal is beaming into space. An advert."

"The sale of the century," Margaret agreed. "We reduce the Earth to molten slag, then sell it piece by piece. Radioactive chunks, capable of powering every cut-price star liner and budget cargo ship. There's a recession out there, Hunter. People are buying cheap. This rock becomes raw fuel."

The Hunter glared at her. "At the cost of five billion lives."

Margaret grinned. "Bargain."

"I'll give you a choice," the Hunter stated. "Leave this planet or I'll stop you."

"What, you?" Margaret snorted. "Trapped in your box?"

The Hunter nodded confidently. "Yes, me." She closed the shutters on Margaret's laughing face and took a deep breath before turning back to the others.

Jason sighed, having heard it all via the phone. "All right, Hunter. I'm not saying I trust you, but there must be something you can do."

"If we could ferment the port, we could make acetic acid," Harriet suggested half-heartedly.

"Mike, any luck?" Hazel called.

"There's load of emergency numbers," he replied. "They're all on voicemail."

"Voicemail dooms us all," Harriet sighed.

"If we could just get out of here," Hazel frowned.

"There's a way out," the Hunter stated suddenly.

Hazel blinked. "What?"

"There's always been a way out," the Time Lady admitted.

"Then why don't we use it?" Hazel asked, raising her eyebrows.

The Hunter looked towards the phone, a sad look in her eyes. "Because I can't guarantee your sister will be safe."

"Don't you dare," Jason shouted immediately. "Whatever it is, don't you dare."

"That's the thing, if I don't dare, everyone dies," the Hunter told him.

"Do it," Hazel ordered.

"You don't even know what it is," the Hunter frowned at her friend. "You'd just let me?"

Hazel nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "Yeah."

"Please, Hunter, please," Jason begged. "She's my sister. She's just a kid."

"Do you think I don't know that? Because this is my life, Jason. It's not fun, it's not smart, it's just standing up and making a decision because nobody else will," the Hunter stated, her voice hollowing.

"Then what're you waiting for?" Hazel wondered softly.

The Hunter looked across at her, a tiny smile turning up her lips. "I could save the world, but lose you."

"Except it's not your decision, Hunter. It's mine," Harriet interrupted.

"And who the bloody hell are you?!" Jason demanded.

"Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. The only elected representative in this room, chosen by the people for the people. And on behalf of the people, I command you. Do it."

After a moment, the Hunter nodded. "So how do we get out?" Hazel asked.

"We don't," the Time Lady replied, floating the Emergency Protocols over to the table in front of her. "We stay here." She sat next to the phone, giving Mike instructions as she scanned through the protocols.

***

Awhile later, Mike asked for a password, and Hazel looked up, curious. "Use the buffalo password," the Hunter told him. "It overrides everything."

"What're you doing?" Jason questioned, sounding tired.

"Hacking into the Royal Navy," Mike replied casually. "We're in. Here it is. HMS Taurean, Trafalgar Class submarine, ten miles off the coast of Plymouth."

"Right, we need to select a missile," the Hunter stated, her face showing little emotion, just concentration.

"We can't go nuclear," Mike reminded her. "We don't have the defence codes."

The Hunter shook her head. "We don't need it. All we need's an ordinary missile. What's the first category?"

"Sub Harpoon, UGM-A4A," Mike answered.

"That's the one," the Hunter nodded. "Select."

"I could stop you," Jason muttered.

"Do it, then," Mike challenged.

"You ready for this?" the Hunter asked.

Mike paused, eyeing Jason. "Yeah."

"Mikey the Pikey, the world is in your hands," the Hunter told him, sighing. "Fire." All they heard was a mouse click, but it was enough.

"Oh my God," Jason whispered.

"How solid are these?" Harriet wondered, patting the wall.

The Hunter shook her head. "Not solid enough. Built for short range attack, nothing this big."

Hazel blew out a breath. "All right, now I'm making the decision. I'm not going to die. We're going to ride this one out. It's like what they say about earthquakes. You can survive them by standing under a doorframe. Now, this cupboard's small, so it's strong. Come and help me. Come on." She and Harriet started clearing out the cupboard while the Hunter stayed with the phone. Although she could have easily emptied the cupboard in seconds telekinetically, she thought it best to give them something to do to keep their minds off the fact that a missile was heading right for them.

"It's on radar," Mike reported. "Counter defence five five six."

"Stop them intercepting it," the Hunter ordered.

"I'm doing it now," Mike stated.

The Hunter nodded. "Good boy."

After a moment he spoke again. "Five five six neutralised." The Hunter unplugged the phone and joined Hazel and Harriet where they were now sitting in the cupboard, closing the door behind her. She handed Hazel's phone back to her, having ended the call, and the trio grabbed each others hands.

"Here we go," Harriet breathed. "Nice knowing you both. Hannibal!"

Hazel closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. As the missile hit, she curled in on herself, glad of the comfort of the Hunter's cool metal arm pressed against her skin, even as she closed her eyes in fear.

***

The Hunter pushed the steel door off with her metal hand, and staggered out into the rubble, followed by Harriet and Hazel. All three women winced as the sunlight hit them.

"Made in Britain," Harriet nodded, looking back at the steel container they'd been in.

A soldier ran up to them, looking horrified. "Oh my God. Are you all right?"

Harriet showed him her ID. "Harriet Jones. MP, Flydale North. I want you to contact the UN immediately. Tell the ambassadors the crisis is over. They can step down. Go on, tell the news."

"Yes, ma'am," the man hurried away.

"Someone's got a hell of a job sorting this lot out," Harriet sighed, kicking a broken bit of chair half-heartedly. "Oh, Lord. We haven't even got a Prime Minister."

"Maybe you should have a go," the Hunter suggested, smirking a little.

"Me?" Harriet snorted. "I'm only a back bencher."

"I'd vote for you," Hazel told her, grinning.

"Now, don't be silly," Harriet admonished. "Look, I'd better go and see if I can help. Hang on! We're safe! The Earth is safe!" She jogged off towards the soldiers. "Sergeant!"

"I thought I knew the name," the Hunter nodded as she and Hazel made their way down the rubble, waving away paramedics. "Harriet Jones, future Prime Minister. Elected for three successive terms. The architect of Britain's Golden Age."

***

Jason and Hazel hugged in their living room as they reunited, watching Harriet Jones on the TV. "Harriet Jones," Jason snorted. "Who does she think she is? Look at her, taking all the credit. Should be you on there." He nudged her. "My sister saved the world!"

Hazel rolled her eyes, smiling. "I think the Hunter helped a bit."

"All right then, her too," Jason nodded grudgingly. "You should be given knighthoods."

"That's not the way she does things," Hazel told him. "No fuss. She just moves on. She's not that bad if you gave her a chance."

"She's good in a crisis, I'll give her that," Jason admitted.

"Oh, now the world has changed," Hazel's eyes widened. "You're saying nice things about her."

Jason shrugged. "Well, I reckon I've got no choice. There's no getting rid of her since you're infatuated."

Hazel blushed. "I'm not infatuated!"

"What does she eat?" Jason asked thoughtfully.

"How do you mean?"

"I was going to do shepherds pie. The three of us," Jason told her. "A proper sit down, cause I'm ready to listen. I wanna learn about you and her and that life you lead. Only, I don't know, she's an alien. For all I know, she eats grass and safety pins and things."

Hazel giggled. "She'll have shepherd pie. You're going to cook for her?"

Jason frowned. "What's wrong with that?"

"She's finally met her match!" Hazel joked.

"Oh, you cheeky bitch!" Jason exclaimed, trying - and failing - to hide his smile. "Get out of it!" He changed channels as Hazel got up to answer her phone.

"Hello?"

"Right, it'll be a couple of hours, then we can go," the Hunter told her from the TARDIS.

Hazel laughed a little. "You've got a phone?"

The Hunter scoffed. "You think I can travel through space and time without a phone? Like I said, couple of hours. I've just got to send out this dispersal." Hazel heard the flick of a switch. "There you go. That's cancelling out the Slitheen's advert in case any bargain hunters turn up."

"Er, Jace is cooking," Hazel said, biting her lip.

"Put him on a slow heat and let him simmer," the Hunter advised absently.

"He's cooking tea," Hazel corrected. "For us."

"I don't do that," the Hunter stated quietly, suddenly concentrating on the conversation fully.

"He wants to get to know you," Hazel pleaded.

"I've got better things to do," the Hunter lied.

"It's just tea. And he's my brother. Please?" Hazel sighed as there was silence on the other end of the line. "Artemis, please. Jace really does want to get to know you." More silence. "I think you're scared. I know you haven't really had anything like a family since the Time War, but that doesn't mean you have to be alone now. Just... come have tea with us, and then we'll sail off into space again. I'm not saying you have to treat him like your own brother... but I think maybe Apollo wouldn't have wanted you to be alone." She sighed again, ready to hang up. "Just think about it, okay?"

The Hunter spoke up, just in time. "Wait! I'll come. The TARDIS will repair herself. Thank you, Hazel."

~~~

If you enjoyed, please like and/or reblog, and consider helping a gal out by donating to my Kofi! Thanks for reading :)

[lostjonscave]

Oooh for the prompts thing....Jon, contentment, and a pen? The object is kind of random but I feel like we need some happy content for the archives crew lol. Or at least I do because it seems like we’re headed towards something Really Not Good and I’m mildly terrified!

well, i took this in a very AU direction, and then it got away from me a bit, but here you go! jon/martin, jon + contentment + pen, 2009 words. 

-:- 

“We’re going to need,” Gertrude says with all her usual bone-dry calm, “someone from artifacts storage to come down and assist with collecting this.” 

Jon can’t tell if the effect of her tone is ruined or enhanced by the fact that she is currently bandaging up a nasty bite on the side of her hand. There is still a low, rumbling growl emanating from the bright pink handbag on her desk, a far deeper and more resonant pitch than Jon has ever heard from an animal that might reasonably fit inside a handbag. He eyes it cautiously. “I suppose that’s for the best… They have the industrial gloves up there, don’t they. One moment and I’ll call someone down.” 

“Did someone already see Miss Petersen out?” 

He glances over his shoulder, out into the Archives; they are empty. “I… think so yes, a few minutes ago.” 

“Good. She ought to be getting along to her mother in the hospital. Judging by the injuries she described, I have a rather bleak idea of how much time the woman may have left.” Gertrude finishes bandaging her hand with a crisp application of medical tape. Jon would have offered to help, but he knows far better by now. “... Anything else?” He asks. 

“No, thank you Jonathan, that will be all.” Waving a dismissive hand at him, Gertrude draws a long metal ruler from one of her desk drawers, peering at the handbag’s darkened opening with interest. 

“Right.” He’s given up on reminding her that just ‘Jon’ is fine. Apparently her instinct towards propriety is simply too strong to override, which reminds him of his own grandmother at times, although Gertrude is several years younger. He shuts the door to the archivist’s office quietly behind himself and crosses the Archives for the assistants’ area. Sasha’s voice rings clear across the stuffy space. When he approaches, she holds up a finger in front of her lips, and he nods. 

“Oh, is that so?” She says into the department phone, putting on her most sugary, wheedling voice. “Yes, that would be beyond helpful. Thanks ever so much... Hmm. Could you repeat that for me, please?” Sasha gestures quickly at Jon across the desk, and he quickly slides a pen and scrap paper over to her. After copying down what looks like an address and a few further details, Sasha says, “Well, you’ve been a wonderful help. I’m sure I’ll have no more trouble getting in touch with her. Oh, and the same to you, sir!” Then she hangs up the phone with a determined crack of the receiver. “God, what a bloody creep.” 

Jon tilts his head towards Sasha sympathetically. “And who were you today?” 

“Someone’s estranged niece,” she explains. “Trying to track down her aunt in order to make amends with her after the unexpected death of both parents, it’s all very television drama. Lots of people go for that, though!” 

Jon perches on the empty chair next to Sasha. “Lots of people actually live for that, from what I gather, although I cannot begin to imagine.” He gestures to the department phone. “Are you finished with that, or…?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” She rolls her chair backwards so that he can move in to access it. “What’s the errand this time?” 

“I’m just calling down Artifacts Storage to assist with some kind of carnivorous handbag.” 

Sasha gives him a significant look. “Artifacts Storage, hum?” she asks with very feigned innocence. 

Jon squints at her. “Yes, Artifacts Storage. Unless you think there’s a better place for-” 

She flaps a hand. “No, no, go on.” 

He does, pressing the button for short dial. It only rings twice before a buoyant, familiar voice chimes in from the other end of the line. “Hello, artifacts curation office?” 

“I- Oh. Hello, Martin,” Jon says, working very hard to sound professional while Sasha has turned eyes on him like a bird of prey. “We just need, er, some assistance with, well, there’s. Obviously there’s an artifact. Which, is, why I have rung your department.” 

Somehow Martin’s smile is audible even over the phone. “I see. That’d be in the Archives, then?” 

With some effort Jon refrains from cringing. “Yes, of course, I should have- It’s in the Archives, yes. You’ll  want to send someone down with proper equipment to handle, ah, very sharp teeth. It’s aggressive.” 

“Ooh, okay, righto.” There is a muffled clatter on the other end of the line. “Hang tight and I’ll be there in two seconds, let me… just... “ 

“Take your time,” Jon says, for lack of anything better, and then has to wait on the line while Martin bangs around in the background and Sasha sits there looking inappropriately smug. He considers taking off his glasses so that he doesn’t have to see her, but Martin is back before it really becomes necessary. “Right, so I’ll see you in a moment?” 

Jon almost nods awkwardly before he remembers they’re on the phone. “...I’m not going anywhere?” 

“Cheers.” With a click, Martin hangs up, presumably to trek down here with whatever containment equipment they reserve for the artifacts with more animalistic attributes. Jon puts the phone down as well, staunchly avoiding eye contact to try and stall whatever Sasha is about to gleefully ask him, but this is another one of those scenarios where his attempts are generally fruitless no matter what.

“So! Martin is headed down, did I hear that correctly?” Sasha rests her chin on her folded hands like a psychiatrist about to grill him. 

“You did, in fact,” Jon says with deliberate nonchalance. He won’t let her get to him that easily. “Is that significant?” 

“You tell me,” Sasha counters smoothly. “Didn’t you just see him?” 

Jon raises an eyebrow at her. “To when are you referring?” 

She huffs and shoves the arm of Jon’s desk chair so that it jostles him. “Oh, come off it. Basira told us at the canteen, all right? We know you two went on a date last night, so how did it go?” 

“You’d never expect her to be the gossip, and yet,” Jon grumbles, folding his arms crossly and shrinking back into his chair. He may have been caught out, but he’s not about to go quietly along. “Must you insist on involving yourself in my private affairs? It’s downright obnoxious.” 

Sasha rolls her eyes. “It’s not obnoxious, you clown, it’s called having friends. Occasionally, you talk about things that happen in your life. Anyway you were in a positively sunny mood this morning, at least for you. I could just guess how it went, but I’m being friendly.” 

Jon glowers at her. “You’re being insufferable, actually.” 

“Oh, so are we to expect to see you in wedded bliss within the year, or-” 

“Fine, all right, it was- It was actually bloody awful, on a quality scale of dates I’ve been on, if you must know,” he snaps irritably, and there is a small, ugly satisfaction in the way her face falls. 

“Oh. Are you serious? But- You seemed so pleased this morning.” 

Jon glances over at her again and immediately feels guilty. “I- Well. The first hour really was terrible, and I might even have left if he wasn’t my ride. But he did manage to, shall we say, pull a comeback in the second half.” 

Sasha raises an eyebrow. “Well, go on then.” 

Sighing, Jon folds his hands in his lap and stares at them intently. “He took me to a… Poetry reading. Sort of? One of those loud, microphoned businesses. They all seemed to have it memorized.” “Oh! Slam poetry,” Sasha supplies helpfully. “That actually sounds interesting, I didn’t know Martin was a fan of that sort of thing!” Jon glances up at her, clears his throat. “Apparently he’s… Performed there before. Not- not last night, though, although- “ He makes a small, irritable gesture. “The problem was that we sat so far up, we were right next to one of the speakers and I could hardly breathe, it was so loud. Like someone shouting in your face for twenty minutes at a clip.” Sasha cringes sympathetically. “Okay, yeah, that’s not great. Can’t exactly have any good conversation that way.” 

“If he said anything to me while we were in there I certainly didn’t notice.” Jon snorts. “And the food- Good lord, you wouldn’t believe. One of those co-op cafés, at some point a bit of stale bread showed up on the table with some disgusting sort of, pickled, salmon paste?” The memory makes him shudder, even over twelve hours later. 

Sasha sits up straighter in her chair, hands on her knees, and exhales softly with a quiet whoof. “Right. Well, I see what you mean. But he pulled it back?” 

“I- I think he must have noticed, at some point, I had pretty much, er, shut down.” Jon coughs again. “So we went outside, and he said I looked a little green- I wanted to walk a bit, so we did, and then, well, there was a- You know that secondhand bookshop up near Stockwell?” Sasha brightens. “Sure, I’ve canvassed it before. You went there?” “For, um, a couple of hours,” Jon admits quietly, fiddling with one of the pens on the desk to avoid looking at her. “A couple of hours!” Sasha spins her chair towards him, pointing triumphantly. “I knew there was- What did you do for a couple of hours? What did you do after that?” 

Jon puffs up his chest a bit, opens his mouth to tell her… Something, either that it’s none of her business, or that they’d actually talked the whole time, that Jon had walked him up to his door, that he’d ridden the tube home at 2AM in some kind of infatuated stupor, but before he can start he is interrupted by the man of the hour himself parading into the Archives, decked out in some jerry-rigged version of riot gear. Jon startles so hard at seeing him he nearly falls out of his chair. Martin beams at the both of them and waves before jogging over. 

“Hey guys! Er, I’m here for the thing with the teeth? You weren’t much more specific than that,” he explains bashfully, gesturing to his outfit, which looks like it could probably sustain an attack by several dogs at once. “So, I figured I had better be more safe than sorry.” 

“That’s not- Not a bad call,” Jon says, wildly avoiding his eyes. It does not stop the blush intent on creeping up from under his collar. “Gertrude is, ah, examining it, in her office, but she might be finished by now.” 

“It’s a handbag,” Sasha supplies, doing a decent but not exemplary job of hiding her amusement. “Pink and frilly. You’ll probably have to muzzle it somehow.” Martin blinks. “Oh, well, I’ve got the equipment for that upstairs. In the meantime I’ll see if I can’t get it to bite down real good on my arm pad and transport it that way. D’you know if it can move around?” “I haven’t recorded or observed any mobile capabilities, no,” Jon replies, straining to sound proper. “More of a, er, Venus Fly Trap sort of situation.” 

Martin salutes cheerily. “Brilliant, that makes my job all the more simple. Suppose I ought to head in before Gertrude tries to feed it something, ey?” 

Sasha grins. “You’d better.” 

“Okay. Well, then I’ll see you at noon, Jon?” 

“What? Oh- Yes, er, yeah, yes, of course,” Jon mutters, this time steadily avoiding Sasha’s extremely significant stare. “Don’t lose any fingers in there.” 

Martin flashes him a warm smile. “And miss lunch with you? Wouldn’t dream of it.” He heads off towards Gertrude’s office, tightening the straps of the pad on his arm and whistling tunelessly. 

“You’re having lunch with him?” Sasha mouths, incredulous, before Martin has even had time to knock on Gertrude’s door. “You went out last night and now you’re having lunch with him?!” Jon glances toward the office, checking the coast is clear. Then he chucks a pen at her. 

-:- 

send me more prompts if you like! 

[acequeenking]

“The Dog Days of Summer” (G)

Summary: After Hades lets her go, Persephone decides to get her husband a little gift to show that she is serious, too: someone to help accompany him, when she can’t be there. 

Happy holidays/Io Saturnalia to @persephonegray, who has a very choice username and, from their blog, excellent tastes. I hope you enjoy your Secret Songbird present! 

When her husband lets her go up early, clutching his love in his hand, Persephone knows: there’s an attempt on her part that needs to be paid. Hades might have done more wrong, but she’s done wrong too in her time, and Persephone knows, knows, that she needs to make it right, much as she can.

Knows how to do it, too. People don’t think it of her much, but deep down, Persephone and her husband aren’t un-alike. She’s just as much a schemer as he does, and there is no one on this earth, above it, or below it who knows him so well as her, his needs.

Which is why she’s going where she is. To settle a score, so to speak, to heal scars too long ago undone. It won’t fix everything about them – frankly, ain’t nothing can do that but time, she thinks, and effort from them both – but it’ll be a sign that she is, to the core of her, quite serious about her man.

Persephone wanders up Etna alone, the heat blasting out of the volcano nothing compared to the winter spent underground. She doesn’t pause to take in the desolate habitat; it was chosen for a reason. Humans don’t tend to react well to semi-active volcanoes or dogs with three heads, and, fortuitously, Etna is smoking, and no one but her could even try to scale the height of it.

She gets to the top in the tip of the mountain and leans inwards, stares down.   Tries to come up with a good greeting, but gets robbed of the opportunity when the big dog stares up at her, his tail twitching.

Well, a deep and inhuman voice howls. Look who is back.

“Hello, Cerberus,” she murmurs; the dog rises from the volcanic depths to the tip-top; they’re alone, and he looks sleek in the sunlight. “Been a long time.”

He makes a horrible sort of deep noise; it sounds closer to a growl than what it is, a deep purr. She holds out her hand and the dog leans into the scritches. Ah. I have missed this. She gives him a good bit of attention, enjoys petting him from tip to tail, gives all three heads an appropriate scratch.

Am I to take it he has put away his pride? Destroyed that loathsome smokestack? The dog says in words that are not quite words, syllables unknowable to all but the gods.

“No,” she says, soft. “I wish. Workin’ on it.”

He huffs, unamused. I am saddened. I miss home. Etna is nice, but…She understands. His home, like hers, might be a hellhole, but it is home. “He’s trying. For the first time in a while.” That takes her to why she’s here, and she smiles, gives her beloved old friend a little smile. She has to trust in that he is making a change, that with his love for regained he might walk back the old hellhole a bit. “Was wondering if maybe you’d—“

He cuts her off with the monstrous equivalent of a scoff. Absolutely not. I told him I would consider returning when the air was not so foul; I will not compromise that vow.

“You know, he’s awful lonely with us both gone so long,” she says with a frown. Her half a year; him, several decades gone. “Think it would be better for him if one of us—“

He has been keeping you longer. He does not need me. The dog chuffs; it moves away, back toward the volcano.

“You used to care about him,” she says, furious. “Ain’t that what they call your kind? Man’s best friend?”

I’m not just a dog and he is not just a man, he growls. Any more than you are just a woman. The dog howls, a deep noise that sets every bone in her body – even in her body – vibrating. But I will not leave you in a lurch. Come.

He howls again, and she winces, wanting to cover her ears but not doing it, for she knows the grumpy old dog will take offense. An unfamiliar yapping follows, and she raises her eyebrows as Cerberus dips down, gently picks up a very small little puppy between his jaws.

“You’ve had a puppy!” She says, eyes wide; she does not ask who the mother may be.

This one is a foolish pup, the dog says, nudging the puppy towards her. It is as white as Cerberus is black, small as he is large. This one longs for cities, adventures. He cannot yet speak in this tongue, and he lacks the eyes required of a guard, Cerberus scorns; the little one does not seem to take much offense. It is not, after all, his fault he was born with one head, not three. But he is patient, and kind, and for your husband, perhaps… that will be enough. He nudges the little immortal one toward her, and Persephone takes the squirming little bundle into her arms. He is just a child. But he will grow. And I will tender him to your care.

The dog is certainly different from Cerberus; white and one-headed, with big happy brown eyes and a nose already sniffing every inch of her in delight. “He’s an active one,” she says; Cerberus nods.

Exhaustively, he says, sounding as tired as she feels every time she boards that damn train.

“We’ll take good care of your pup,” she promises. “Won’t we – ah, what is your name?”

The young one has no name pronounceable in the old tongue, Cerberus answers, a flick of his tail. You will need to come up with your own. The dog yaps happily, and she supposes that is proof enough that he’s happy to go along with her, maybe even go way down under the ground with her.

“I’ll let you know if—no, when—things change down there.” She promises it to herself.

I will return when I desire, regardless of when the change is made. It is always home. But I will hope your husband comes to his senses soon. Take care of yourself, and of him. Visit, if you wish. He starts his long crawl back to his caverns; not quite home, but home enough for now. I could use your thumbs for scratching.

“I will,” she promises, then stops. “We will.”

Now the hard part: she cradles the little dog down the mountain, wishing she’d brought something to carry him in. Persephone isn’t used to being the caretaker, so much; she could let the little thing run free – a little volcanic ash ain’t gonna hurt these paws, but she doesn’t want to put him down. A new little part of their family needs to be loved, and given that he’s the stoic type, well, that falls to her.

The little one licks her cheek, sliding off half a cheek of perfectly nice make-up. “Whoof,” she says, soft, as it tries to get as much Persephone time as it can. “Ain’t he just gonna love you.”

------

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hermes drawls; staring down at her little wicker basket, waiting for the train. Been six months, six long months, and both mama and Hermes and even, bless his soul, Orpheus, have tried to convince her mean old Mr. Hades wouldn’t like a cute and cuddly pet. They’re all wrong, and she isn’t afraid of telling them all so.

“He doesn’t seem like the most…” Orpheus says, looking at her squeamish, afraid to offend when his only chance of seeing his love is through her. “Well, affectionate sort of…” She raises a hand, his objects die down.

“I know my husband,” she sniffs. “He’ll love it.” The train screams in the distance, as if he is echoing her point. Usually of a mind, her and him; she’ll hope it’s a good track.

Orpheus just stares at the track uneasy; Hermes raises an eyebrow that simultaneously says I don’t believe you, and, also, I ain’t gonna quibble the point. Both of them’s nervous; the boy for a glimpse of a girl that she suspects her husband will let ride, for her is not, despite his reputation, without mercy. Hermes, she thinks, just wants to be done with all this, and she well – she’s ready to start again. Isn’t even nervous about it, because he’s waited the full term, and for the first time in a long time, she’s ready to go, and ready to see him, and ready to start again, and she’s brought proof of that.

The train whistles to a stop; she sees movement at one of the windows, smaller than himself’s profile, and isn’t surprised when Eurydice leans her face against the window.

“Eurydice!” He shouts; he looks back at her, eyes not unlike a puppy dog’s himself.

“Go on,” Persephone says; “go spend some time with her. I can delay him at least half an hour.” Maybe more, if he himself likes this as much as she thinks he will, but Orpheus doesn’t wait for any further reassurances, just storms up the open door and nearly bowls over the man himself.

He gives Orpheus a cool – and pitiful – look, but she knows he doesn’t have it in mind to yell much at the kid, not when she’s waiting, looking very nice, and therefore very distracting to all his best attempts at grumping about.

“Persephone,” he rumbles; he all but jumps off his train’s steps and nods at her; wants more than a nod, but she isn’t going to get it while Hermes is sticking around. They both look at him, both eye-brows just in sync.

“Suppose I’ll go – check out the train.” Hermes coughs into his palm to hide a laugh, and she just shakes her head. He’d stick around for the drama, but some things are meant for them and them alone.

Once Hermes is out of eye, he bends down, presses his forehead to hers. She pushes up, gives him a little kiss that’s for him and only him. It’s a nice moment. “You’re right on time,” she murmurs.

“Still missed you,” he says; it’s not quite a joke, not yet, but they both smile. She grabs his hand and gently pushes him toward the bench, toward the little wicker basket.

“I’m with you now. And I might have gotten you a little surprise,” she says, suddenly a little self-conscious despite all her faith that he’ll love the gift. “Might not be going down alone?”

“Oh?” His curiosity is peaked. The basket barks, quite ruining the surprise; he looks down at it, then at her. “You didn’t—“

She smiles. “Open it.”

He does.

She watches his face as he pulls off the top of the basket, the raised brows, the gentle but deadly oh he mutters as he slowly looks up at her. “Who is—?”

“Cerberus’ pup.” She slowly lifts the wriggling little feather-light dog into her arms. “Doesn’t look much like daddy, I don’t think, but he’s ours now. Yours now.”  

“Oh,” he says. He does the awkward thing he always does when he wants to hold something but is, somehow, too stoic to ask – his hands awkwardly balled up – and she raises an eyebrow, holds out the dog. She reads him like a damn book and ain’t nobody knows it better than him himself.

“Hold him,” she murmurs, and doesn’t need to say it again as his arms circle the little yappy dog and gently holding it like his own tiny little baby. Pretty sure this dog ain’t never hitting the floor in their house. 

“Hi,” he murmurs; the dog, as is its wont, licks half the coal-dust off his old face, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You like?”

“I love.” His hand winds around her shoulder. “And you, I…” She presses her head against his forehead, draws him into a kiss that’s not exactly sweet or subtle.

“Love you too.” She ruffles their little dog’s energetic mane; needs a name, this little one.

“Think we oughtta give those kids some time, hmm?” She says; she slides her hand around his back. “Maybe take this little one on his first walk?”

“Alright.” He gently lowers the dog to the ground, and looks at his plain little collar that Persephone’s stitched up – pretty sure it’s getting a new diamond-studded one mighty fast, and she’ll just look the other way at that. “This one got a name?”

“No.” She slides her hand in his as the dog takes off running energetically, as a puppy is wont to do. “Figured I’d wait for daddy to give him a name.”

“Hm.” He smiles at her, his hand sliding over her shoulders. “We oughtta come up with one together, then. You gonna scheme up one with me, outdoor girl?”

She rests her head on his shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she says, as they walk by the tracks together, the newest member of their household yapping at their heels.