#maybe it's because i'm using duck duck go's image search

[post-futurism]

BLOC PARTY | Little Thoughts EP 2004

[curlicuecal]

hey! how do this AI overview appears on your google? on mine it doesn’t lol i was just curious to know if this is a google extension or something

you don't have to enable it, it just randomly turns itself on at some point.

I originally had it on chrome browser but not Firefox, but it is now showing up on my Firefox, too. Seems to be a gradual rollout.

Note that it doesn't generate an overview for every search, but only occasionally, which make it harder to tell if it's enabled yet for you. No idea how it decides tho. I originally tested using questions from other people's screencaps (like "how many rocks should I eat"). Google does seem to either regenerate new overviews after a while, or maybe just update the ones that are getting embarrassing social media attention, because I have seen several of them switch.

Anyway, it's an incredibly broken, distracting feature, that takes up the entire initial screen of search results on my phone, drastically increases the loading time, and is probably burning a ton of power.

Fortunately there are a number of posts floating around with workarounds to deactivate it. (Google, of course, does not provide an option for that.) Also plenty of recommendations for alternate search engines. People seem fond of Duck Duck Go, although I find the image search on that extremely frustrating.

Still gonna try switching search engines again, probably. Idk if I'm imagining it, but Google seems to have tinkered with the rest of their search results as well? There's some real weirdness to how it's pulling things up and organizing them now.

[c0ry-c0nvoluted]

The early morning air was still thick with humidity, like a clammy memory of the night before - a night I spent cold under a blanket stiff with the hardened residue of spilled liquor and cheap beer. I've got one chance to get the hell out of the city, and it's on that goddamn train...but I don't have a ticket... I can't afford one. But it was either try or wait around to die -- or, more accurately, wait around to be killed... Those bastards aren't gonna let me just walk away with this thing; I barely made it this far, and only have because the goon they sent after me was an overweight smoker well into his fifties. Too old and too damn slow to catch me. I'm not entirely sure, but I think the chase killed the bastard. I heard three shots before I ducked behind a dumpster, then a thump preceded his ornery ass groaning in obvious discomfort. It took me about thirty seconds to work up the balls to take a look at what the hell was going on, and when I did? The giant human lump of shit was clutching his chest on the ground at the mouth of the alley. If I had more time I might have gone back and kicked his head in while he struggled to breathe, hopefully sending him on his way to Hell with the last thing he saw being my deranged face, drooling in anger while savagely stomping him into the afterlife. How's a size ten-and-a-half taste for your final meal, you asshole? But he wasn't the only one they sent after me... If I would have stuck around I might not have gotten away. The other one one searching my place, ransacking the shit out of it and all for nothing. What they want I still have with me. I slept on the fucking thing and now I have its angular impression imprinted into my thigh. If only I could use it to get a goddamn ticket... But...actually...maybe I can... -cm

Any ideas on what it might be? Put your guess in the comments -- no wrong answers, serious or comedic. Have fun. And get your eyes on a high-quality version of this image with a premium download from my deviantart.com account -> AnomalousDesigns

[deviantartdramahub]

Many people are going to need what I'm about to say, and so with the advent of Autumn coming up (or Spring in the Southern Hemisphere), I wanted to post a PSA because I want to prevent things like what happened to me. I say this as someone who once almost lost everything.

Recently I came upon the member of the site known as Shaztold. Shaztold had a fundraiser set up on her profile, it was a GoFundMe she set up a while ago after her house got almost wholly burnt in a fire. Allegedly. This PSA is to try to instill in you the mindset you will need in order to distinguish between genuine friends in need versus fakers, for the sake of everyone's wallets.

The dialogue I'm about to repeat was verbatim and the points exist in a few parts, so read it very closely.

Me: That's some nice ducks you have there?

Shaztold: Thankies. Hey, do you think you could donate to me? My home got destroyed in a fire and I truly need help. I've been going around trying to see who might donate.

Me: I can see that. I do feel bad. I would give you the shirt off my back.

Shaztold: So you can give money?

Me: Where are you? Your house burnt down, correct? Maybe I may provide.

Shaztold: You could find my house on Google Earth at-- uhh scratch that.

Me: Something wrong?

Shaztold: Just realized I have reasons not to give away myself.

Me: Google Earth though! Nothing will help your cause like pointing to a Google Earth picture of your dead house.

Shaztold: And doxxing isn't an issue?

Me: What are people going to do, send fake pizza deliveries to a burnt house?

Shaztold: I do have a picture. Here. *gives picture of a burnt house*

Me: *puts it on TinEye reverse image search* Wow, your, uh, house is everywhere.

Shaztold: That's just a coincidence. People just like pictures of it for stuff.

Me: Uh huh. If your house is ashes... why not just offer you a place to crash. My place perhaps? I can even cook.

Shaztold: I appreciate the offer, but I don't trust traveling to strangers' houses.

Me: But you expect others to trust giving money to strangers? Isn't it hypocritical?

Shaztold: I'm sure each person can trust giving away a few dollars. I wouldn't trust someone with a hundred but am willing to give out three.

Me: Individuals, yes, but you're asking for two hundred fifty dollars. You're asking A LOT of people to trust doing that small favor for you. That thinking is why those scammy donation places at McDonald's are so successful.

Shaztold: It's not like that though. It's volunteer.

Me: It's always volunteer though. Come to think of it, what does anything look like? You've never shared anything about you. No indoor house pics of even your pets, no selfies, nothing of that sort.

Shaztold: Are you really judging me now for having never posted selfies of myself? Isn't that the kind of thing people use as an excuse to pressure people into giving up their anonymity, like how in threads like at https://www.deviantart.com/forum/devart/general/2707873/ people build it into a measure of self-worth?

Me: Not judging, no. I would never make someone out to be superior like that just because one posted face reveals, in fact I kind of like what Triagonal said at https://www.deviantart.com/triagonal/art/The-Ten-E-Cepts-written-based-on-one-s-experience-899257268 where she mentions there are so many factors going on behind a screen that an account can never be equated to an individual, even one who is known to use an account. However, it's another thing if you're asking people for money and you've never posted a selfie, don't you think? It's the donation equivalent of speed dating.

Shaztold: I don't quite understand how your metaphor is applicable. This isn't even my first time asking for money. You're the first person who has come to me picking this process all apart.

Me: Wait, this isn't even your first time? The person who in our one other exchange has told me to "touch grass"?

Shaztold: Yeah, so?

Me: Such interactions don't mark you as coming off as feeling indebted to the internet for helping you out of a crisis.

Shaztold: Alright, my skeptical "friend". Tell me, how exactly WOULD you vet someone for how honest they might be when asking for donations? For every few honest people in need there are a few dishonest people, and that's always been the way it is, and we honest people have enough of a hard time dealing with being overshadowed by thieves.

Me: There are certain people in every neighborhood that can help with confirming facts. Local law enforcement for one. Local churches for another. Churches already help with the homeless.

Shaztold: Read my lips, I'm not giving out my hometown. It's tiny. You would know me.

Me: What about your general area?

Shaztold: You know they're not going to operate out of town, correct?

Me: But what if you did?

Shaztold: And what if they, I don't know, cannot be reached for something like that? What if I had told you it was a place without phones?

Me: There are also always clues. The proof is in the pudding, as they say.

Shaztold: What if there is no pudding?

Me: Then you look for contradictions in someone's story, and ask questions to mine for contradictions. MOST of the time, a skilled person can do that.

Shaztold: What if they don't?

Me: Then you contact the closest thing to someone's network of real life friends and confirm what happened by seeing if their stories all match.

Shaztold: Alright, if that's what you need, I will provide.

So then a week went by and a bunch of people came forward saying they were said network of real life friends. However...

8decora and carolinerchartrand came forward saying they were a part of it all. And then it struck me. 8decora, if I remember correctly, said he was from Iran, and Carolinerrchartrand Australia. Suddenly their profiles said Canada. And anyone else who came forward, if they said they were from Canada, their accounts would say they were days old. So then I went around interviewing each person, seeing if their details added up regarding what their supposed shared place of residence was like. I was able to ask a few gotcha questions and find out they didn't add up. I should note I did this exact thing for someone else's friends once before, and it did add up that one time, and I ended up donating.

Finally, Shaztold came forward again.

Shaztold: Alright, I confess.

Me: That you were wrong?

Shaztold: No, that I don't have any friends. You forgot to factor in how someone would be able to do this if they're an isolated introvert.

Me: All I can say is may the gullible fall victim to the financial Darwinism you set up and may those who are smart and wise prosper. That is, unless you have internet and can use the Where's George program and encourage others to use it and let us all see the fate of the money.

Shaztold: But nobody here has internet.

Me: We're done here.

Also, please help my friend mentioned at https://buzzly.art/~Ofiaradragondemon/blog/hey-an-artist-needs-some-help please. My friend is verifiable, they're just not good at managing money. But they're responsible about their irresponsibilities.

I will keep that in mind. That’s a common concern here that is often addressed.

[akumaalert]

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hello!! I'm kinda embarrassed but could you do an uno reverse with the chubby Arthur fanfic but its with a chubby reader instead?? (your choice to make Arthur also chubby or not) Thank you!!

A/N: Don’t be embarassed (I spelled that wrong but autocorrect won’t work right now and I’m too dumb to know how to spell it off the top of my head lol) I absolutely love to write for Arthur! I feel like he doesn’t get enough attention anymore. Thank you for the ask!! I hope you like this! The ending got a little messy and not great cause I didn’t know how to end it but I hope you like it!

Warnings: mentions of poor body image and Micah being a fucking douche, but there’s fluff! Arthur makes things better

***

“Y/N!” Mary-Beth called your name. 

You turned your head to look at her. Karen and Tilly stood with her by the wagon. John was hitching up a couple horses to the wagon with Lenny’s help.

“Hi, ladies.” You greeted them as you approached the tent. 

“We’re gonna go into town. You wanna come with us?” 

“What are you plannin’ on doing in town?” 

“Oh you know, just the usual.” Mary-Beth answered with a little wave of her hand. “Seein’ what the folk around here are like.”

“And maybe robbin’ them.” Tilly giggled. 

“But we aren’t gettin’ into too much trouble.” Karen added. “John won’t let us, will you John?”

“I hope not.” He sighed, buckling a strap on the horse. 

“So what do you say, Y/N?” Tilly asked you.

Arthur watched from across camp as you declined the ladies’ offer to join them on their trip into town. His eyes stayed on you while you watched them leave in the back of the wagon John and Lenny were driving. 

You began to pick at your nails, the furrow between your brows becoming more prominent. The picking at your nails was a bad habit of yours, one you only did when something was clouding your mind. 

“Are ya even listening to me, Arthur?” Uncle asked him.

Arthur took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it into the fire as he stood up. You were going to your tent so that’s were he planned on going. 

“Stopped listenin’ a while ago, Uncle. Thought you would’ve noticed.”

Uncle began to complain about Arthur’s inattentiveness but the outlaw was already leaving the table, making his way across camp to check on you.

Arthur ducked inside the tent he shared with you, taking his hat off. 

“Hey, pumpkin.” He greeted you.

You turned to face him, offering him a little smile. 

“Hi, Arthur.”

“What’re you up to?” He asked. Maybe you were too busy to go into town. 

“Gonna go read out by the cliffside for a bit.” You picked up your book from the end table. “Do you want to come with me? Or are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you, pumpkin.” He flashed you a little smile as you moved towards him. He was expecting you to stop, even if only for a moment, to give him a kiss on the cheek or to brush your hand along his chest like you always did when you passed him by. But you simply walked by him without even looking at him.

Something was definitely wrong. This confirmed his worries. 

“How was meetin’ up with Mary?”

“Went about as pleasant as you’d think. Wanted me to get her brother back from that religious group, the Chelonia.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Depends on your definition of fun.” Arthur muttered.

You were thankful that no one was down by the edge of the cliff. You wanted to have some peace and quiet away from everyone. 

You decided to sit beneath a tree, placing your book in your lap. Arthur grunted rather dramatically as he got down next to you.

“M’too old for this kinda shit.” He sat facing you. One of his legs was loosely crossed while the other was spread to cross over yours, though he didn’t put any weight on your legs. 

“You don’t gotta follow me around, you know.” You giggled softly.

“I know. Just like spendin’ time with ya.” He took his hat off and put it in the grass beside him. “I, uh, I heard the girls were askin’ you to go to town with them.”

You nodded your head, opening the book in your lap so that you didn’t have to look at him. 

“Why didn’t you go? Thought you were tellin’ me just last night you had some errands to run in town.”

“I can do them another time, Arthur. It wasn’t anything important.”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say next.

“Mary-Beth sounded a little eager to have you go with them, don’t you think?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“She was just bein’ friendly though, wasn’t she? She’s a good kid.”

“Arthur, what are you getting at?” You looked up from your book, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t know.” He sighed heavily. He ran a hand over his face. “I-I saw that look on your face when you were watchin’ them go, pumpkin. You looked upset about somethin.’” He paused to gauge your reaction. “Did something happen with one of the girls?”

“No, Arthur.” You dropped your attention back to the book.

“Karen’s not bad unless you get her drunk.” Arthur thought out loud. “And Tilly’s a nice girl, least from what I’ve seen. Mary-Beth too. Abigail can be.... something else. Did she do something?”

“Arthur, please.” You closed the book firmly. “Just stop.”

“Pumpkin, I’m just concerned is all.” Arthur reached over to place his hand on yours. “I don’t like that look I saw on your face. It don’t belong there.”

“The girls didn’t do anything to me, Arthur.” You murmured quietly, feeling a scratchy sensation begin in the back of your throat. “It’s all okay, I promise.”

“You say that, but I don’t see it in your eyes.” He shook his head. Cerulean blue eyes gazed at you with such a softness that you could’ve melted right there, but the torment you felt in your chest and in your head were too much. It pushed that softness he was able to make you feel away and brought in a dark feeling. 

“It doesn’t matter, Arthur.” You stood up, brushing off your skirt, and began to move back towards camp.

However you didn’t get very far. Arthur’s hand found your arm, bringing you to a stop. 

You turned your head to look away from him, taking a steady deep breath through your nose in an attempt to make the tears go away. If you could calm yourself down, they would go away. 

Arthur’s hand slid down from your bicep to your hand and his thumb began to trace small circles on the back of your hand. You turned your hand over so that you could lace your fingers together. 

“You don’t gotta tell me, pumpkin, but I just hate to see you so upset and so quiet about it.” He stepped closer and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I just…. I can’t stand some of these people, Arthur.” You tilted your head down, unable to look up at him. You focused your eyes on his boots. “Just can’t fucking stand them. They’re just….” You couldn’t find the words to accurately describe what you wanted to say. 

“Who was it?” Arthur had a very short list of who would put you on the verge of tears. Possibilities and scenarios began to race through his mind. 

“Micah just…. He was just being a bastard.” Your voice cracked. “He said you were going into town to see Mary Linton. I knew that’s where you had been earlier today. But he just…. He started saying that you were going to…. That you and her…. Because she’s-she’s thin and pretty and I’m as big as one of the pigs Pearson butchers.”

“He what?” Arthur had to pull his hand away from you as to not cause you any harm. His fingers automatically curled into tight fists and he felt the need to seek out Micah Bell to cause him serious damage. 

His eyes left yours and he tilted his head up to search the camp behind you. Micah was sitting at a table with Bill, sharpening his knife. 

“It doesn’t matter, Arthur.” You sniffled, looking down at the buttons on his shirt. “He wasn’t wrong. No use in sugar coatin’ it.”

Arthur stared at you for a few moments, his brain still trying to process the anger he felt. Then he took a breath and ran a hand over his face. 

“Micah Bell is a miserable son of a bitch, Y/N. He ain’t right about nothin’. Not a damn thing.”

“But Arthur, I don’t-I don’t look like other girls, like Mary or like Karen.” You whispered, tears trailing down your cheeks. You crossed your arms over yourself, suddenly feel extremely self-conscious. “I-I didn’t go into town with them because every time we go into town, people stare at me.”

“Pumpkin, they stare at me too. They’re just a bunch of judgemental pricks.”

“That’s different, Arthur.” You shook your head. It was sweet of him to try to make you feel better, but they stared at him for different reasons than they stared at you. “It’s-It’s just not the same. You.... You’re a normal size. You just come across as intimidatin’ and sometimes folk don’t know how to take that. But me.... They see me and all they see is a pig in a dress.”

“Don’t you say that, Y/N.” He reached up to cup your face, calloused thumbs brushing away your tears. “You don’t look nothin’ like a pig.”

“Mary, she’s just…. She’s so different from me, Arthur.”

“Course she is, pumpkin.” Arthur leaned forward to kiss your forehead, then he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you in for a proper hug. His slipped around you, providing you with a sense of protection. “I don’t see nothin’ wrong with that. And I definitely don’t see nothin’ wrong with you. You’re absolutely gorgeous in my eyes, pumpkin. Wouldn’t change a damn thing about you.”

“But Arthur, I look like a cow.”

“Stop comparin’ yourself to farm animals, Y/N.” He kissed the side of your head. “It’s breakin’ my heart.”

You frowned, leaning your head against his shoulder. Arthur pressed his lips against your head. 

“I know you’ve never had the best thoughts about yourself.” He murmured into your hair. “But I got plenty of good thoughts about you for the both of us. I’ll make sure to share them with you until you start thinkin’ about yourself differently. I need you to know that it don’t matter that you’re different from Mary or Karen or anyone else. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. It’s who you are.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” You sniffled. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Only ‘cause I love ya, pumpkin.” 

***

Hosea caught sight of Arthur as the burly outlaw made his way across camp, a dark look in his eyes.

“Arthur-,”

“Not now, Hosea.” Arthur waved him off. His eyes were set on Micah who wasn’t even looking at him. His back was to Arthur. He sat at a table with Dutch talking about something Arthur didn’t care to listen to. 

Arthur grabbed the back of Micah’s chair and tipped it back, knocking Micah out of his seat and on to the ground. In the same heartbeat, Arthur drew the revolver from his hip and cocked the hammer with his thumb. 

He put his foot on Micah’s shoulder and aimed the gun at Micah’s chest, glaring down at the man. 

“Whoa, cowpoke!”

“Arthur!” Dutch shouted. “Put that gun away!”

Arthur ignored Dutch. The anger bubbling and festering in his veins made him focus solely on Micah.

“It’d be in your best interests to leave Miss Y/L/N alone.” He spoke lowly.

“I was just havin’ a conversation with her while you were out with your old fling-,”

“What I do ain’t none of your goddamned business.” Arthur cut him off. “If I find out you’ve said anything out of line to Y/N again, Micah Bell, I’ll be puttin’ a hole through your goddamn chest.”

Micah said nothing, locking his jaw as he glared up at Arthur. Arthur lowered his gun and then removed his foot from Micah’s shoulder. 

Hosea watched as Arthur moved towards his tent, holstering his weapon. 

“You’re a funny guy, Arthur Morgan!” Micah stood up, angrily brushing off his clothes. 

“And you’re a dumb bastard.” Hosea muttered, shaking his head as he walked away. “Surprised it’s taken this long.”

Taglists:  @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @nonodino @krenee1drful @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @zodiacaldust @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[darter-blue]

Stucky/ Shrunkyclunks/ fluff

Read it here on ao3

Or part one, two, three, four , five and six on tumblr

Steve

Steve’s mind comes back to consciousness in increments. The first thing he notices is the warmth. A warm body tucked up against him, soft hair against his skin, an arm around his waist. He knows, or his body knows, that this is nothing to fear. This is the same warmth and softness that he fell asleep wrapped around. This is the same feeling of contentment and belonging that he let his heart rest to last night.

But he slowly becomes aware that the body resting against his is not quite so relaxed.

He feels Bucky’s body tense. Feels his diaphragm stop mid breath, feels the length of him coil and stiffen as he wakes up and finds himself pressed against Steve.

Bucky doesn’t remember.

Steve feels his own calm start to recede, he freezes too, and the two of them are lying together, Bucky across Steve’s chest, one leg between Steve’s, holding their breath and waiting.

With no idea what they’re waiting for.

Bucky is the first to move - he pushes back and away to prop his body up and look down at Steve.

His expression morphs from confused to surprised to sheepish in a matter of seconds, skin blushing an adorable rose, his eyelashes dark against the olive tone of his cheeks as he lowers his eyes.

Steve commits the image to memory even as his heart plummets into his stomach.

Bucky doesn’t remember.

Steve won’t get to keep this.

‘Umm… hey,’ Bucky says, looking back up at Steve and biting his lip. ‘Good morning?’

‘Morning,’ Steve says slowly, carefully. He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and balks at the time. ‘Oh…’ It’s already nine - they were supposed to go and pick up the paperwork from Mavis. They were supposed to get breakfast together - ‘We’ll miss breakfast.’

‘Oh no!’ Bucky says, jumping up and out of the bed. ‘Oh, my flight leaves in two hours!’

Steve is left alone in bed, the warmth leaching out from where Bucky has tossed the covers back. He sits himself up and leans back against the headboard. He’s not sure what to do, whether to offer to drive him to the airport (he has Tony’s car, and Thor can get back on his own) or to explain that they’ll need to unsign their paperwork.

They’ll have to ask Mavis how to undo it.

She’s going to be devastated.

‘Are you-’ Bucky starts to ask as he looks back over at Steve and freezes. He looks Steve up and down. Steve who is now sitting up in nothing but his underwear, the covers gone, and Bucky has his mouth hanging open as his eyes travel across all the skin that Steve has on display. ‘Uhh… I, we… oh shit,’ he jumps as his phone beeps at him from the pocket of his pants Steve had folded up for him last night.

He dives for his phone and checks the message. Types back furiously and then looks back up at Steve.

And then he freezes yet again as he flexes the fingers on his left hand. Sees the ring.

He looks over at the t-shirts that have toppled to the floor as he pulled his phone free, down at his own state of undress, and then back at Steve again.

‘Umm…’

‘We uh-’

Bucky’s phone beeps again and he hisses a bad word as he checks it and types back.

‘Sorry,’ he says, looking backup at Steve, ‘I’m um, I have to hurry,’ and he starts to drag his jeans on, grabs at the t-shirts, looks around and can’t see that there’s any other clothes - another thing they’ll have to pick up from Mavis - and pulls the pink ‘groom’ shirt on over his head.

Steve doesn’t know how to correct him, tell him that’s Steve’s shirt.

His heart sinks just a little bit further.

‘Bucky tucks his phone into his back pocket and runs a hand through his hair, turning his head to search for something, and makes a little ‘ah’ noise when he spots the bathroom. He dashes in, Steve can hear him exclaim again at the size of the enormous shower, and then ducks his head out from the door to look over at Steve, still in bed. One eyebrow raised quizzically. ‘Are you coming?’

‘Where?’ Steve asks, confused.

‘To breakfast!’ Bucky says, his head disappearing and then reappearing as Steve hears him running water in the sink, ‘We have just enough time to get the free buffet before I have to get my stuff from my room and head to the airport.’

Breakfast with Bucky? Steve is jumping out of bed too, ripping his jeans on and squeezing himself into Bucky’s smaller t-shirt. Not caring that it doesn’t even fully cover his stomach. ‘Yes!’ he says, hopping on one foot as he pulls his shoes on, ‘yes, I’m coming!’

He rushes through washing his face and grabbing his room key, herding them out and pulling the door shut behind them as they head to the elevator, the elevator that has him blushing just standing in with Bucky again - he can feel the heat in his cheeks - and press level one for the casino diner.

They stand awkwardly next to each other. Not pressed together, At least a foot of distance between them, and Steve has to swallow down his disappointment.

Bucky has asked him to breakfast, this is not nothing.

He needs to steal whatever time Bucky will give him. He needs to not ruin this with too many thoughts.

He could say something though. He should say something.

‘Are you… do you…’ Steve tries to get the words to come out right, but it’s not working.

Bucky looks up at him, adorable eyebrow raised, hands in his pockets and waits for Steve to finish, nods to show he’s listening.

Steve can’t do it. Can’t ask him what he remembers. Can’t face what Bucky might confirm.

‘Need a ride?’ he finally finishes with.

‘A ride?’

‘To the airport,’ Steve clarifies. ‘I can drive you, if you need.’

‘Oh,’ and Bucky’s face lights up, ‘that would be a life saver.’

Steve nods his head, enthusiastically agreeing.

A ride to the airport means more Bucky. Means maybe he can stretch for time. If Bucky misses his flight, Steve can just drive him all the way home. Wherever that might be. He doesn’t even know.

God.

He doesn’t even know where Bucky lives.

The elevator stops and they step out, one after the other weaving their way through bleary eyed travellers and wide eyed, backpacked tourists, and find themselves a booth to nab just as someone is leaving.

Someone who eyes Steve up and down, sees his ‘Elvis said we do!’ t-shirt, two sizes too small and hurries away, clicking madly into their phone as they bump into a table.

Bucky stares after the person looking a little perplexed, but ignores it in favour of clearing the abandoned dishes to the edge of the table and helping stack them as the waitress rushes over to take them for him.

‘Just grab a plate and help yourselves,’ she says, gesturing to the buffet with a nod of her head, ‘you’ve got about half an hour till they close.’

‘Thank you,’ Bucky says to the waitress, who smiles as she turns away, then back to Steve as he points with his thumb, ‘I better get some food.’

Steve’s stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble ridiculously loudly and Bucky’s smile intensifies.

‘You better get some too, big guy.’

He looks so sweet, Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell him his stomach is in knots because of Bucky.

But when it rumbles again he thinks maybe, actually, Bucky might have a point.

And the pancakes looked pretty good.

Steve is halfway through trying to bury his anxiety in a mouthful of maple soaked pancake when Bucky looks at him and says, ‘So…'

Steve freezes with the fork midway to his mouth, and waits for Bucky to say the words that will break his heart.

'Umm…' Bucky looks down at his hand and then holds it up to Steve, wiggling his ring finger, and the band it now carries, 'So this happened…'

Steve, terrified of how to answer that without scaring Bucky away, takes too deep a breath and inhales half of his pancake into his windpipe. He swallows a mouthful of juice to try and dislodge it, and finally gets himself under control enough to answer. 'Right, yes. That. That… happened.' he nods, looking down at his pancakes and desperately avoiding what Bucky might do once he knows the truth. 'And how do you… how do you ah… feel? About that?'

He waits with his head down… for an answer that Bucky gives enough time to have properly measured.

'I think… I mean I don't really remember exactly how this happened,'

Steve feels the weight of those words sink through him like lead. Until Bucky’s next words.

'Not that I mind,’ Bucky says, in more of a rush suddenly, ‘I was just thinking it might be nice to… have a refresher?'

And Steve snaps his head up to catch Bucky’s expression. Open. Honest. Warm. Everything Steve knows Bucky is. Everything that gives him hope that this could really happen. 'A refresher?'

And Bucky rushes ahead to explain himself. 'Only because we woke up so late and rushed down for breakfast and then… well it might be nice to go through exactly what happened last night again, in some detail…’

Steve is going to have to take him down to see Mavis-

‘Perhaps a full physical re-enactment?'

Steve isn’t sure what he means, retracing their steps exactly, the whole night? Even- Oh.

Oh.

Bucky doesn’t remember what didn’t happen last night. Bucky woke up next to Steve, both of them in nothing but their underwear, wrapped around each other, wedding rings and matching t-shirts and an awkward morning after and…

Bucky is looking at Steve with the most beautifully vulnerable expression, somewhere between salacious and embarrassed and Steve could honestly reach across the table and gather him up and never let him go.

Or he could take what time they’ve got left and finally get Bucky back to his room.

'You know, I'm feeling kind of full, and we do have at least another hour until check out…'

'Well we should use it wisely.' Bucky says, smile breaking out in full technicolour and Steve has to breathe. Has to be calm and controlled. Has to pull Bucky back to the elevator with the gentlest grip around his beautifully round bicep.

Bucky is looking up at Steve and clears his throat to ask quietly, 'I guess, I mean, since you're my husband now, I should like, actually know your name…?'

'Steve,' Steve answers, huffing a laugh at this crazy situation, 'Steve Rogers.'

'Well, Steve-Steve Rogers, I'm-'

'James Buchannan Barnes.'

'Right,' Bucky says, swallowing, 'You remember that huh?'

'Oh I remember everything.' Steve, bolstered by the way Bucky says Steve-Steve Rogers - as if those memories are there, waiting under the surface, bolstered by the evidence of how much Bucky really was being himself last night, dares to press in close. Close enough that he can feel Bucky’s heart beat, can feel how it increases as Steve moves closer still.

They reach the elevators and Steve’s nose is practically nuzzling Bucky’s hair. The doors open and he guides them inside, pushes Bucky up against the wall, close enough that their chests are pressed together, close enough to push a knee between Bucky’s thighs as the doors close.

As Steve lifts his hand to push a lock of stray hair behind Bucky’s ear, Bucky tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

'Steve Rogers? Why does that sound familiar?'

And Steve reaches over to pull the emergency stop button, lifts Bucky up and smiles as Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist, smiles as his arms fly up to circle Steve’s neck, and presses him even further up against the wall of the elevator.

He almost never, in his life, has got to redo a moment like this. Take it back and make it perfect. He looks at Bucky and measures his words, lets his tone drip like honey, sweet and smooth and rich. 'Okay, don't be mad, baby, but, you've heard of Captain America, right?'

The way Bucky stares down at him. Not surprised, not upset, not greedy, just accepting. The way Steve can see the cogs turning in his head as he calculates what that means exactly, the way he raises his eyebrow and scrunches his lips and then makes a tiny little shrug of his shoulders.

It’s breathtaking.

'Sure, I've heard of him,' Bucky says, smiling and leaning forward. He presses a soft kiss to Steve's mouth, 'But I mostly want to hear more about Steve-Steve Rogers if you don't mind.'

Steve knows he’s smiling like an idiot but he doesn’t care. He’s so deep in this now there's no hope but to dig further.

‘I don’t mind,’ he says, leaning up to kiss Bucky again, ‘I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.’

‘Kinda wanna know what you plan to do with me in here,’ Bucky says, softly, between breaths as he nips at Steve’s lips, snakes his fingers up into Steve’s hair at the nape of his neck.

‘I have to confess, we didn’t actually get this far last night,’ Steve says, pulling back a little to look Bucky in the eye. Wanting to make sure he's fully informed.

‘We didn’t?’

Steve shakes his head.

‘But you want to?’

Steve nods, hard and fast and without a doubt. ‘Do you?’ He asks. He wants to be sure. He thinks he knows, but he wants to be sure.

‘So much,’Bucky says, smiling into Steve’s lips as he presses forward to kiss him again.

‘Wait,’ Steve says suddenly, pulling back again.

‘What?’ Bucky looks down at him with concern.

‘Your flight!’

‘Oh, fuck it,’ Bucky says with a laugh, ‘I’ll catch the next one.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely,’ Bucky says, pulling Steve in closer and kissing him again, ‘I will hitch back to New York if I have to, this is worth it.’

‘New York?’ Steve says, shifting Bucky’s weight and pressing him further into the wall, ‘you live in New York?’ And he might be lighting up the entire Vegas powergrid with the power of his smile right now.

Bucky nods against Steve’s face as he kisses his cheek, his nose, and back down to his other cheek.

‘I could give you a ride all the way home.’

This time Bucky pulls back, pulling at Steve’s hair a little to put space between them, ‘Wait, what?’

‘I live in New York too. I can drive you home.’

‘You drove here?’

‘I mean… I took a jet, but Tony left me his car to drive home, said I should let my hair out… or down…’ Steve shakes his head, ‘either way. He wanted me to take my time coming home.’

‘And how long do you have the room for?’

‘As long as I want, probably…’

‘So we could… we could stay a whole nother day and night?’

Steve hadn’t even thought of that, had never even dreamed of it, but he wants it. He wants it all.

He nods and pushes forward, latches onto Bucky’s mouth and kisses not so gently this time, rocking his hips up into Bucky and biting and licking into his mouth.

‘Anything you want, Bucky, I’ll give you anything you want, always.’

‘Just this,’ Bucky says, kissing back with the same fervour, wrapping his legs tighter around Steve’s waist and pulling him closer, chasing that friction, ‘Just you.’

And Steve runs his hands up under Bucky’s shirt, desperate to feel him, desperate for the warmth of his skin, to be as close to him as possible. He mouths down Bucky’s stubbled chin and down his throat, drawing a gasping moan out of him, rocking up again at the sound of it.

‘Gonna wreck you in this elevator, baby,’

‘Yes,’ Bucky says, nodding and arching up into Steve, tipping his head back to expose the long line of his neck, to give Steve more room to suck and bite marks there.

‘God, I’ve been wanting to touch you like this all night, all morning.’

‘Me too,’ Bucky says, ‘I mean, I assume.’

Steve has to laugh, even as he sucks a searing bruise into Bucky’s throat.

‘Knowing me, I’ve been wanting this since the second I saw you.’

‘Yeah,’ Steve kisses the words up the other side of Bucky’s throat and into his cheek, ‘that sounds about right.’

Their bodies are rocking together, and the movement is desperate, filthy, Bucky’s breathing is short and fast and gasping, Steve can feel his heart beating out of his chest. He runs his hands all the way up Bucky’s stomach to put his palm over his heart, letting his finger brush again his nipple.

It sends a delicious shiver down Bucky’s entire body, Steve can feel the vibration of it.

‘Our bodies found each other, Bucky,’ he says, letting his erection slide against Bucky’s, not caring at the fabric between them, leaning into the pleasure-pain of the way his cock is straining against his pants, ‘Our particles are dancing again.’

‘Oh, I knew, I knew you,’ Bucky says, soft laughter in his voice, ‘I recognised your vibration.’

It makes Steve sigh into another kiss, fall into Bucky.

‘Like soulmates,’ Bucky whispers into Steve’s mouth, and that’s it, Steve is done for. It’s not even just the sensation of Bucky’s skin under his hands, the way Bucky is grinding into him, the way their bodies move together, the bitten off little moans Bucky makes as Steve teases at his nipples, mouths at his throat. It’s the idea of Bucky. That idea that even starting again this morning, Bucky can feel it, their connection.

He believes it.

It's real.

And Steve lets it go this time. His control. His fear.

He lets go and he lets the hope and the happiness and the overwhelming pleasure wash over him. Feels it gush out of him, and feels Bucky follow him over.

It's perfect.

It's everything.

Until something heavy lands on the roof of the elevator and rips off the maintenance hatch.

And Steve watches with growing horror as Tony Stark, in his Iron Man suit, pokes his head into the elevator and flips his face shield open.

'Well well well,' Tony says, shaking his head, smug smile on his irritatingly goatee’d face, 'I leave you alone for five minutes.'

Steve looks at Bucky, who is staring up at Tony with an open mouth and saucers for eyes, a ring on his finger and ‘groom’ on his chest. And yeah… okay.

This is going to be hard to explain.

[undercoverclover]

Welcome To Wonderland

Part 1

Genre: Mentions of death, Fluff, Angst... 

Word Count: Part 1 & 2 6.8K

Pairing? Red King & Alice 

-My twist on Alice In Wonderland for the Tell A Fairytale event by @acewriters!-

Laying in the sun under the giant oak tree, feeling the sun warm my face, I set the book down and look around. The late summer breeze blew my hair around my face causing some of my hair to go in my mouth. I tie some of it back in a loose ponytail and pick my book back up. Midday was always my favorite time to come outside and read.

Getting lost in the pages, I read until I feel my eyelids droop.

“I’m late, oh gosh. Why am I so late on this really important date?” I hear someone say and I wake up startled. It was just me, my friends had left for the day and weren’t supposed to be back until tonight… Nobody else was here.

“Stupid watch, why are you not working properly? You are why I am so late!” I hear this time louder. I get up and peek around the tree. There’s a man with dark green hair, wearing a white button up shirt, black slacks and white nikes. He was walking almost jogging and kept glancing at a watch and shaking it. Does he think that’s going to make it work better?

I’d never seen him before, but maybe he’s cutting through our yard to get somewhere.

“Excuse me, sir?” I call. His head swivels around and his light brown eyes meet mine as he comes to a halt, “Yes? Can I help you?” He replies hastily.

“Are you lost? Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“Yes, I am well aware of where I am. Thank you for asking. Now, I must go. I am very very late for something and it’s really important.” He starts walking again and disappears in the woods near my house.

“Curiouser and curiouser.” I say to myself. I walk towards where the man went and try to see if he’s within eyesight. Stepping on something hard, I look down. The man had dropped something. I bent down to pick it up… It’s a pendant! ‘To Rabbit.’ the back said. I quickly look up to see if I see him. I don’t see him though, but I need to give this back to him. I put the pendant in my pocket and stare in.

Even though I’m nervous he’s crazy, I start heading into the trees where I thought he went in. Staring and not seeing the man, I began walking.

“Hello?” I yell as I walk. “Sir? Are you here? Hello?”

Walking deeper into the trees, I notice him really far ahead. “Sir! Wait!” I yell, but he doesn’t hear me. I begin jogging but lose sight of him. I continue towards where I saw him last and notices the canopy overhead is getting darker. I can barely see now so I grab my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight. Looking ahead, I notice a dark wood door a few feet away on the side of an enormous oak. It looked like it had seen better days. The door itself had scratches on it and the knob was beyond rusted.

“What’s this?” I walk up to it and hear the man speaking to someone on the other side. How in the world is this possible? I’m going mad!

Just as I’m about to yell for the man, I hear his footsteps jogging away.

“Oh fudge!” I turn the doorknob and it won’t open. I try again frantically, but push on it this time as hard as I can. It reluctantly opens with a loud groan. I thought it was going to fall off its hinges. Opening the door it’s lighter, like I didn’t just walk into the side of a tree that was cloaked in darkness..

What is going on? Where am I?

I turn off my flashlight and notice a path that continues for who knows how long.

I hear voices and duck down to hide behind a shrub. I don’t really want to find out if they’re like the man since he seemed weird enough. For all I know, I have evil forest people living near my house.

Peeking between the branches, I see twin teenage boys standing off to the right, seemingly in conversation. That is, until you hear their conversation…

“Let’s go find the caterpillar guy.” one says.

“No, he always smells like smoke.”

“That’s because he always has his pipe with him and smoking it, smart one.”

“Like you pay that much attention.” The teens get into it and start wrestling with each other. I take that as an opening and sneak away. Getting clear, I continue on the path.

I guess all of the people I find here will be crazy.

I walk, noticing little animals here and there. Most of the time it was quiet.

“Oh great. Now I’m even later. I swear after this I am buying a brand new pocket watch.” I hear in a familiar voice.

“Hello?” I say, hearing the man I’d previously lost.

“Can’t talk right now. Must hurry! I’m so so late.” He says, finally coming into sight. As quick as he was in my sight, he was gone again down the path. I, once again for an unknown reason, try to follow him. I had no idea where he went but I guessed down the path so I took off that way. Coming to a halt, I’m in a dilemma. The path splits off into a few directions….

Attempting to figure out where to go, I grumble to myself.

“Where’re you goin’?” I hear from above.

I look up, startled and notice a man sitting on a branch in the tree, “Honestly? I haven’t got a clue. I’m following the strange man with the green hair, did you see which way he went? Which way should I go?”

Taking a look at the man, he was quite handsome. He had black curly hair and brown eyes.

He seemed cat-like to be honest. I don’t know why, there was just something about him along with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“I’m not sure, maybe you should ask the Mad Hatter and March Hare.” He smirks at me, nodding in the direction.

“Mad? But, I don’t want to go around people you call Mad....”

“Oh, you can’t help that. Almost everyone here is mad. I’m not exactly sane myself.”

“Is anyone really completely sane?” I ask.

“That’s a good question. You’ll just have to search and find out for yourself.” He swings down from the branch and turns towards me, “See you later.” He smiles at me, canines showing and leaving a lasting image in my mind as he takes off into the forest.

"Wait!" I yell towards the retreating man. I look to the direction he showed me earlier and sigh. I guess that leaves me meeting the Mad Hatter…

I start walking, unsure if I should continue or turn back. Looking ahead, the feeling in my stomach told me to go on, but my head was telling me I was insane and I should turn around and go home.

A few feet up, there's a brush pile that blocks the way and looks insanely hard to get around. Knowing it's either that or going back, I stop at it and look back.

"Hmmm. It doesn't look very thick. Maybe I can push my way through?" I say to myself.

Grabbing two branches, I pull out to try to move it and the whole thing opens like a door.

"This just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser."

Walking through I hear laughing, singing and teacups clattering. I smile because it sounds like they're having a great time. Walking ahead, sure I'll find someone to ask about the man with the pocket watch, I come across a small house, covered in different fabrics and colors.

Outside, there were 2 men sitting at a long fancy table that could hold at least 10 people. I guess the table wouldn't fit inside. The table was filled with different types of teapots, teacups, snacks and a cake. They sat there laughing and pouring tea into different cups.

The man on the left, I'm assuming the Mad Hatter, had blonde and pale red hair. It was curly but most was underneath a black beanie that had two cheetah print ribbons hanging from the back. He wore a green puffy jacket and white pants that looked like it had smoky patterns.

The man on the right, which in turn would be the March Hare? He had normal hair, black but a red beret on. He wore a blue, pink, and white tie-dyed hoodie with overalls. As he laughed I noticed the sun shining on his face glistened at certain angles, he has sparkles placed on there.

"No! No no no. I'm telling you, there's no way! Absolutely no way I would help him anymore! He drives me absolutely mad!" The mad hatter says.

"Drives you mad? You're already mad!" I look to the hare and he starts laughing at his own joke. The mad hatter takes his shoe off and throws it towards the other man. Barely missing him but hitting the teapot and breaking it, making them both laugh now. "Well, there goes that one!" The hatter laughs.

At that second, the March Hare looks over and spots me, dropping his smile. I stand there frozen, nervous of how they will react.

"WELCOME! WELCOME! Come! Come sit down." He smiles again, motioning me forward.

"Oh look, a guest!" The Mad Hatter says, clapping excitedly. I walk closer, trying to be ready in case I need to make a run for it. I take the seat closest to the way I came, "Hello. Sorry to bother-"

"No no. Don't worry you're not bothering us. Do you want some tea?" The March Hare says as he waves his hand in the air to dismiss my statement.

“Yes, I’d really like some. Thank you.”

“So, tell us. Who are you?” I hear from March Hare. I wonder why they call him that? He pours me some tea and I take it from him, nodding in thanks.

“I’m Ali.” I say and take a sip.

“Well, Ali, what brings you here to this area in Wonderland?” The Mad Hatter asks.

So I’m in Wonderland? That’s a rather curious name. I wonder why they call it that.

“I was following a man that came into my yard, he dropped something and I wanted to return it.”

“Oh?” They say in unison and look at each other.

“And what did this man look like? What did he drop?” He asks next.

“He dropped a pendant. It said ‘To Rabbit’ on it. So I assumed it was a gift and he wouldn’t want to lose it.”

“Ah. So he was out this way! I thought I’d heard him!”

“We could have stopped him then! He’s probably on his way to the King’s! We should have warned him!” The Hare said slightly panicking.

“We could have. But, he didn’t stop to say hello this time. Not like he normally does, so he must have been running behind on his normal routine.” The hatter stands up and starts pacing, speaking incredibly fast.

“We must find him. Maybe we can warn him before! Maybe the cat can warn him! Ah hah!” He says getting anxious and excited clapping.

“Excuse me? What do you mean? Warn him about what? He kept saying he was late.”

“Oh, oh dear Ali, the king wants his head of course!” He laughs causing goosebumps on my arms.

“Why would he want that?” I exclaim. “Why, my dear do you know nothing? The Rabbit did something no other has done and the Red King called him a traitor! The Rabbit has no idea the king wants to behead him. The Rabbit allowed a-” His eyes go wide staring at me. He looks me up and down and gasps.

“Oh dear. Oh no. Oh no no no.” He repeats. He looks over to the other man and motions to me with his head. The other man’s eyes look to me and he clasps his hand over his mouth. They scramble up next to each other delving into a conversation I couldn’t hear. They each took turns eyeing me, turning their head towards me every now and then.

Maybe they are crazy.

“Ali, are you from here?” The hare asks, looking anxious.

“I am not? Is that the issue?” I ask, trying to piece the puzzle together.

His eyes go wide and he nods.

“She’s not harmful Hatter. She’d have already done something if she were.” He says, still staring at me, seemingly looking through me.

“No? I wouldn’t harm anyone. I just wanted to return something the Rabbit dropped.”

The Hatter sits down with a wild look in his eye and begins to look at me like the Hare. “I think you’re right. Maybe we should tell her and send her on her way?”

The Hare nods and the Mad Hatter starts telling me about how this isn’t the first time that the Rabbit had let an outsider in. It’s not on purpose in any case but he’d been warned that if it were to happen again, he’d be sentenced to death. The sad look in his eye seemed genuine. He continued to say that the last time it was a little girl about 7 years old that had wandered in. . She had been found and the Red King, the prince at the time, had been giving her food and shelter until the queen found out. The Queen was furious. She wanted to kill her then, but the prince stopped her. She was instead marked with a heart shape on her wrist and thrown in a dungeon. The prince was beyond upset, he didn’t think she would make it. The next few nights he would sneak her food and apologize. She was freed as soon as we could and the Rabbit told the queen she’d died. She had left by way of the Rabbit and us, unbeknownst to anyone else and with the Hare’s luck, so the Red Queen wouldn’t take her head. The dreadful woman being who she was, told the prince that she’d beheaded her before he rose for the day and called us insane for trying to say otherwise! Evil witch! She banished us to the outer surroundings of Wonderland. The prince grew spiteful at his mother and us for allowing her to be beheaded, choosing to believe her. He turned cold, then becoming king after she passed, he claimed he’d never allow any other outsider to even so much as step foot into Wonderland or he’d kill them.” He sighs.

“He’s had his heart in pieces since that day. He was only 5, he knew no better, but to tell him that? And for him to hold onto it for that long? She meant something to him.” Hare dropped his head, patting his eyes with a tissue.

I felt a twinge of guilt in my heart and a tear slid down my cheek. I grabbed a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. “So the king wants to behead the Rabbit? For a mistake? Because someone, well because I found my way in?”

“No, because the Rabbit was careless not once, but twice now and the first time his best friend was taken away from him. This time he doesn’t want anyone from the outside world in here at all and will behead both of the ones who are in the wrong according to him.”

“But it wasn’t his fault! Nor was it yours! I wondered why they called you mad. Now, I understand. Wait,” I say, stopping as my thought process caught up, “are you saying that he knows that I’m in Wonderland now?”

“Yes.” They nod grimly, “you need to leave.”

“I can’t. I have to find the Rabbit. It’s not his fault! Either time it wasn’t his fault.” I had the sense of urgency to find the man with the green hair. I felt responsible. I rub my wrists and look at them.

“I’ll leave, just as soon as I go and explain that there’s a hole in his defensive tactics to keep outsiders out and that’s why I found my way in.”

They look at me like I’m insane, “I’m not going to let someone die for me. I’m going to save him.”

“He’s going to die, as will you if he finds you. It’s best if you just leave and never come back.” The hare says.

“I have to try. Help me?” I ask. They look to each other, communicating in some sort of way.

“As much as we want to, we can’t. The guards would get us before we even got close to the castle” The hatter says. I get up, thanking them for the tea and take off on the trail in the direction I’d been heading.

Walking, I feel nervous and shaky. I continue rubbing my wrist, feeling the heart shaped scar I’d wondered how I’d gotten when I was little. Now? Now I know a piece. I want to know more and I have to make things right.

It gets darker the further I walk and I grab my phone to use my flashlight. I have no idea what time it actually is, but I’ve been walking for a while now and was starting to get tired.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I hear in a familiar voice. I look around not noticing the man from earlier that day.

“Hello? Where are you?” I reply. The cat-like man, who the Mad Hatter called the Cheshire Cat oddly enough, stepped out from behind a tree, eyeing me carefully.

“I’m on my way to talk to the Red King.”

“Now, why would you do that? You have no business in this direction. Return to where you came from.”

“I will, once I’ve spoken to the Red King.”

He half smirks at me, showing one canine, “It’s a death sentence, Alice.”

“How do you know who I am?” I ask, wondering if he was listening to the tea party.

“I can be here,” he turns and points to a high tree branch, “or there. You’ll never see me, unless I want to be seen.”

“Good to know that you eavesdrop as well.” I begin walking and go around him. He grabs my arm, smiling and winks.

“Be careful what you say to him young Alice. He’s not the prince he was.” He turns and takes off into the trees, disappearing in seconds as the darkness envelops him.

“How- what just happened?” I stare off to where he had been. I had questions.

I continue on down the path and my flashlight shuts off. I scramble to turn it back before I get too anxious because I’m not a huge fan of being alone in the dark. I see something out of the corner of my eye and push the flashlight button. There stands two small bear cubs, eyeing me. They weren’t much but they looked sad. Their fur was severely matted and they were skinnier for an animal. Once I shined my flashlight more towards them, they ran. I start walking again and wonder how long I've been out here.

I see little animals scurrying across my path, some stop to look at me and I notice how they all look so sad. I want to hold them to be honest. I feel tears well up in my eyes because of the sights in front of me.

Just when I thought I was going to be out here forever, I notice stone walls in front of me.

“This must be the castle.” I say to myself.

“It is.” I hear behind me.

“Cheshire! You have got to quit sneaking up on me like that.” I say, placing my hand on my chest.

“Nevermind that. Leave, Alice. Do not worry about the Rabbit.”

“I will not leave and it’s not just for the Rabbit!” I exclaim.

“It’s for you too? After all these years? You’ve made it out of here once, I’m not sure they could do it again.”

“Cheshire? How do you know all of this? How do you know me?”

“I warned you. Don’t come this far. He’s not the prince you knew. He’s mad. Even more so than the rest of us.”

“I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t remember anything from then. Nothing. I have to know.”

“Then so be it. If you really must know, wait for the gates to open and the guards switch shifts in the tower. I hope for your sake, that you don’t get caught.”

Every time I’ve ran into him, he’s seemed crazy, but now I wonder.

“I hope you’re the one that can stop this mess. Or maybe you’ll be beheaded yourself.”

“I- I will try my best.”

The man turns around and darts off, jumping over the bushes and into the night. I walk to the other side of the bushes where he’d just jumped and lean against a tree. I drift off to sleep before I begin to dwell on what he had said.

I wake to the sound of a trumpet. It’s signaling something. It’s barely light outside but I can see. Looking around, I see the gates had opened and men were marching in and out. I see the last ones march in and I jump to rush in the gate. Looking around with no idea where to go and praying I don’t get caught, I see a maze of rose bushes. I run to them and hide in between walls.

The roses were a mix of red and white. Except, the red ones weren’t naturally red. They had a red liquid dripping off of them. I didn’t want to think what it could be. I’ll stick with thinking it’s paint to spare my mind.

“That’s all it is. He painted the roses red. Nothing else.” At that moment, I hear a man’s voice that sounds familiar. “I swear I didn’t mean to do this your majesty. Please forgive me! Please!”

“No! Silence! You’ve let someone in for a second time and you want to be forgiven again? How am I supposed to know that it wouldn’t happen for a third time, Rabbit?” I hear a man yelling. Is that the king?

I peak around the corner of the wall of roses, looking up to the side of the castle. There’s a huge platform covered in red and black tapestries with the man I wanted to save, bound in stocks. The executioner stood at the back while a man in a red button up military jacket and black pants spoke to the Rabbit. Many men, women and even some children stood below the platform to watch this man be sentenced to death. I don’t understand people.

“You did not pay for the last one, this time you will.” he said as he motioned for the executioner. I had to act fast.

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 22

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 9,146

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

“Alright, Elsa, you can do this! You're going to get up on that stage and you're going to wow them!"

So all that stuff about me not trying out? Total bald-faced lie. Kudos to any of you who saw right through it. Since, you know… I'm so good at the whole deception thing.

"...alright fine, maybe not wow them, per se… but you can do okay at least, right?"

This was all just for fun, after all. It's not like it was anything important, it's not like it really mattered. It was nothing, just a silly childhood dream. Just one moment, one blip in time that would be over before I knew it. No big deal.

"...passable? Surely, you can at least give me passable!"

Now if only I could convince my reflection of that.

Which, judging by the flat look she was giving me from the mirror on my vanity, was not going too hot.

"Ugh!" I huffed, tossing up my hands and turning away to pace my bedroom floor. "Just try not to fall flat on your face and I'll be happy. Can you just do that much for me? Please?" I snapped, facing my reflection once more.

She scrunched up her nose and gave me a noncommittal shrug.

My shoulders slumped and I hung my head, bracing my hands atop the vanity table. "Look, you've been practicing nonstop since yesterday. And yes, I know what basically amounts to cramming sing-alongs for almost twenty-four hours straight isn't going to make up for the lack of any sort of professional training. Or the absence of any real experience. Or the fact that besides karaoke that one night, you pretty much haven't sung in almost a decade except for maybe a personal concert in the shower once in the blue moon. I know you're going into this blind and have no idea what you're doing and others there will be way better prepared than you and-" I frowned, narrowing my eyes, "...and I had a point. Fudge, what was it again?"

My reflection looked remarkably unmoved by my rallying little speech just now.

"Ah!" I snapped my fingers, face brightening before jabbing my index up against the mirror. "The point was that none of that matters! What matters is you've done the best you could do in the time you had! So worrying about it any further is nothing more than a useless waste of time and energy! So just go on out there, have a good time and… and give it your all!" My hands closed into fists and they made weak, halfhearted thrusts into the air over my head as I gave a tiny, "Woo!"

She just drooped her eyelids at me.

I plopped down hard into my chair with a small growl. "I know I suck at pep talks. Yeesh, you don't have to be so negative!"

I don't know why I even bothered. Reflection Me was always such a downer.

Sighing, I propped my chin in my palm while I brought my other hand up to fiddle with the flower poking out of a miniature vase sitting on my vanity. It was the winter honeysuckle Lea had given me, dried out now because I'd wanted it to last. I toyed with its delicate petals, my fingers gentle so as not to break them. Somehow merely touching it seemed to sooth my frayed nerves and lighten my spirits, even if only just a little bit.

My phone buzzed and I checked it to see that it was a text from Lea telling me he'd arrived and was on his way up. I exhaled slowly. Okay, I couldn't procrastinate any longer. It was now or never. I stood up and made my way over to my bed, on top of which laid the sheet music I'd managed to hunt down after some internet searching. Gathering it up with care so as not to wrinkle any of the pages, I then headed towards my bedroom door.

"Who's a pretty, pretty princess? Daddy is! Isn't that right, jelly-belly-welly-bean?"

The dulcet tone of Rayne cooing down at her own tummy was the first sound to greet me when I walked out into the living room. I blinked, taking in the scene before me as Rayne returned her attention to the, er… "pretty, pretty princess." That is to say, her husband, whose lips were set into a grim line while his left eye gave a little tick. She had him seated in one of the kitchen chairs as she stood behind him, putting the finishing touches on the long braid she'd fashioned his hair into. It was complete with teeny butterfly barrettes, a colorful assortment of flowers weaved throughout, and a giant, frilly bow at the end holding it all together.

More practice for styling her future daughter's hair.

I'd know, since normally I'd be the one sitting in that chair instead of Riku.

Thankfully, it was now his turn to suffer hair bedazzling hell.

"Not one word, Fryse," he grumbled. "Not a single, solitary word."

I held the sheet music up to my mouth, concealing a tiny grin behind it. Then carefully schooling my features, I told him, "I was only going to comment on how masculine and rugged you look this evening."

"Damn straight," he harrumphed, crossing his arms and slouching further into his seat.

"I have the bestest, sweetest, manliest hubby in the whole wide world," Rayne declared happily, pulling his head back so she could plant an upside down smooch to his lips. This seemed to mollify him somewhat. Giggling, she then glanced my way. "You all ready for your big debut, pumpkin?"

Rubbing one elbow, I shrugged, "...as ready as I'm going to be, I suppose."

Her lips twisted sourly as she clipped another glitzy butterfly into his hair. "Still wish I was able to go and give you moral support."

"No no, it's fine," I said hastily with a shake of my head and a small, reassuring smile. "Lea's driving me so it's not like I'm stranded in need of a ride or anything. Plus you have your baby appointment to get to and I wouldn't want to make you reschedule for some silly little thing like this. Really, just don't worry about it."

"Besides," Riku tacked on, "friends and family of those trying out aren't usually allowed in to watch the auditions anyway."

Rayne's cheeks gave a little puff of annoyance. "I'd like to see them try and stop me if I showed up."

There was a knock at the door just then. Knowing it was Lea, I moved to open it and found him standing there, one shoulder propped against the doorframe. He grinned down at me, "Hey, El! Ready to go? I-" he stopped as he looked past me, blinking a couple times. Then the curl to his lips grew a touch evil, "Yo, Raindrop, who's your new gal pal? She's hella cute!"

"Cram it before I curb stomp your ass," Riku ground out through his teeth.

"Threaten me with a good time, mamacita," he purred back at him, waggling his eyebrows.

Riku sneered with a tch, grumbling under this breath, "Better pray we don't meet in a dark alley, clown, because I will crush you."

"Oof, I usually like a girl to ask me to dinner first, but I might be willing to make an exception just this once if ya keep sweet talking me like that, gorgeous," Lea winked. As Riku shot up to his feet with a black look, I ran out the door and grabbed Lea's arm. "Oops, looks like duty calls. We'll hafta continue this later, hot stuff. Call me!" he blew Riku a kiss with a snigger as I dragged him away, slamming the door shut behind me.

I started jogging down the steps, listening to Lea's footfall as he followed close behind. Shaking my head with a soft scoff, I said, "Can't believe Mr Guyliner here is making fun of a dude with flowers in his hair."

"Was only doing it cuz I knew how butthurt he'd get over it," he snerked as he appeared at my side. "Now me personally? Don't have a problem with it. I'd rock a thousand posies in my majestic mane and look damn fine doing it too."

I glanced over at him, one corner of my lips tugging up. "I might have to hold you to that."

He flung himself onto the handrail and slid down past me in a blur. Converse hitting the landing below, Lea spun around to block my way just as I caught up to him, smirking as he brought himself nose-to-nose with me. "Only if you're the one weaving all them pretty lil blossoms into my hair."

My heart spasmed.

Down, girl.

After all, it was only the empty teasing he always did.

I turned my head a little, shooting him some side-eye. "...do I get to choose the flowers?"

"I don't see why not."

"Good." I ducked under his arm to slip past him and make my way towards the next flight of stairs, "Leadwort it is then."

"Well now, that sounds ominous." I could hear the frown in his voice. "Should I be worried?"

I shot him a sly grin over my shoulder. "Depends. Very pretty. Very, very itchy. Hope you're ready to suffer for fashion."

"For you?" he beamed, hopping down the steps two at a time now to gain on me once more. "Totally worth it."

I merely rolled my eyes, electing not to dignify his comment with a response.

Soon enough we'd climbed into his car and were hitting the road. Sunset Hill Auditorium wasn't really all that far, but still a bit further than I'd rather walk. Thankfully Lea had been free and only too happy to give me a lift over, seeing as how Riku and Rayne had a prior commitment on the other end of town. Speaking of, they'd probably left immediately right after us and I idly wondered if Riku was planning on showing up at the doctor's with his hairdo still all fab like that. The image brought a little smile to my face.

It quickly faded however as I stared down at the sheet music sitting in my lap. My fingers twisted at my braid as I took in a shaky breath and blew it out slowly. Now that I'd fallen quiet, I could feel that nervous energy creeping its way back into my chest. It was actually kind of sort of a good nervous. I was a bit loathe to admit it, but a small part of me was looking forward to this.

That said, it didn't mean I wasn't also absolutely friggin' terrified.

I was actually a little relieved that friends and family weren't normally allowed into the auditions. The offer of moral support was appreciated, but ultimately I think I would have been more anxious if Riku and Rayne had been able to come and watch. Anna too, for that matter. I know my sister would have dropped everything to be here in a heartbeat, which is why I hadn't even mentioned anything about this to her. Making a fool of myself in front of strangers? Mortifying, but I'd survive - at least if I royally screwed up, I'd never have to see any of them again and could just pretend the whole big mess had never happened. Not so if people I actually cared about were there to witness me flop hard. And it wouldn't matter how kind and supportive they would have been after any sort of epic failure on my part... in fact, that might have only made me feel even worse.

Still, them not coming was only a minor comfort lost in the sea of dread filling up inside me now. My stomach burned with queasiness and my lungs felt like they were shrinking, making it harder and harder to breathe.

"Hmm," Lea's low hum broke me out of my thoughts. I glanced over at him as he pursed his lips to one side before shaking his head, "Mm-mm, nope. Too tangy. You need to be spoiled rotten with the sugary sweetness."

Feeling that cold anxiety loosen its grip and recede somewhat, I furrowed my brow for a few seconds before it clicked. "Ah. You've ruled out another ice cream flavor for me."

"Yup!" he chirped, switching his car over into the next lane.

"So which one got the boot this time?"

"Ever After."

"Huh," I fixed my eyes on the road straight ahead, squinting slightly. "Didn't you rule out a different flavor previously for being too sweet?"

One of his hands came to rest on the shoulder of my car seat. "Well yeah, but having a sweet tooth is one thing, while suicide by pure, massive sugary overdose is something else altogether. I think you know where to draw the line."

I tipped my head to one side. "Interesting."

"Interesting?" he echoed, quirking an eyebrow as he checked his side view mirror. "...am I wrong?"

"Didn't say that," I muttered, my fingers absently fiddling with the corners of the sheet music. "Just said it was interesting."

He frowned. "Crap. That's gonna bug me now."

I flashed him a half-grin. "I know."

"Cruel, cruel woman."

I just crinkled my nose at him smugly.

I knew he was trying to take my mind off the audition. And the distraction was welcome, but unfortunately brief. I could already feel that frown resurfacing, that apprehensive chill knotting tightening in my stomach once more.

Lea shifted his head slightly towards me, watching me out of his peripheral with a small downward tug at the corner of his lips. "...ya know you got absolutely nothing to worry about, right?" he asked softly. My eyes flicked over to him for a second before staring back down at my lap again. He elaborated, "It's community theater."

My eyebrows knit together. "...so?"

"So that means ya got no one to impress. Nothing to prove. No one's gonna be expecting a Julliard education from you or for you to have a few Broadway shows under your belt. This is all just for kicks. An absolutely zero pressure environment. Just a buncha goofballs who like acting and singing and dancing around in wacky costumes and so have found others who share their same brand o' crazy so they can all geek out together doing what they love in their free time. Doesn't matter to any of 'em how good or bad ya might be. They're not there to judge, they just wanna have a good time." He lightly tapped his knuckles to my shoulder, "So loosen up, will ya? You're gonna have a blast and knock 'em dead."

The knots loosened a little and a small grin found its way onto my face despite myself. "Thanks, Lea."

Surprisingly, his words helped.

For a grand total of two minutes.

Which just so happened to be right about when we were parking in front of the auditorium. Imagine that.

"Break a leg! I'll just chill in the car and you can meet me back here when you're done," Lea told me as he rolled down his window and fished his phone out of his pocket.

I barely heard him over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. Swallowing hard and finding my throat too tight for words, I simply gave a stiff nod before climbing out of the car. Hugging the sheet music to my chest, I stepped over the curb and up onto the sidewalk before pausing to stare at the auditorium's double doors, opened wide to invite people in. My bottom lip tucked in and I made a quick glance back towards Lea who grinned and gave me a thumbs up through his window. Then I looked at that doorway once more.

My eyes hardened. My hands gripped the papers more firmly. My chest puffed up and my spine snapped straight.

Let's do this.

I determinedly marched right up to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the entrance.

Then I spun one-eighty and determinedly marched straight back the way I'd come from.

Lea looked up from his phone, both eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "El? Did you forget-"

Whipping back around, I drew in a deep breath before releasing it.

Alright, let's try that again.

I stomped towards the building once more.

This time I actually made it onto the first cement step before retreating.

Expression blank, Lea said nothing as he watched me do this again (making it as far as the second step up) and yet again (third step). By my next attempt, he'd gotten out and was leaning back against his closed car door, arms folded beneath his chest, ankles crossed. Drat, only the third step again. As I returned and came to a stop in front of him, my eyes narrowed and I released a huff through my nose. He just gave me a small shrug, as if to ask what exactly I expected him to do. I whirled on my heel once more, stormed back towards the auditorium and… fudge! Third step again! Now I was just in a friggin' rut!

Beyond frustrated with myself, I walked up beside Lea this time, folded my arms atop the roof of his car, pillowed my face into them and let out a muffled yell. Then I flipped around, bracing my back against the vehicle and scowled up at the sky.

A pause.

Then Lea piped up, "Ya know you actually have to go inside the place in order to audition… right?"

I whacked him upside the head with my sheet music.

"...take that as a yes."

My shoulders sagged and I hid my face behind the papers in my hands, mumbling, "I can't do this. I'm too much of a scaredy-cat."

There was a snort from him. "You kidding? You're one of the bravest people I know."

I scoffed into the printouts, "Stop patronizing me. I don't appreciate it."

"I'm serious." I felt his hands on mine, gently pulling both them and the sheet music down so I could see him standing in front of me now, hunched down to my eye level. "Do you know what the definition of being brave is?"

"Not Elsa, that's for sure," I muttered, looking away.

"Shush," he flicked my forehead. Rude. "Being brave is not a complete and total absence of fear. No, being brave is taking action despite your fear. Remember your wedding day?"

I fixed him with a dull stare. "How could I forget? I ran away. Like a coward."

"No, a coward woulda done nothing. A coward woulda just done as she was told cuz she would be too chicken to make any waves. A coward woulda stayed, gone through with the wedding and led a miserable life she didn't want just to please her folks. Just because it was the safest, easiest route. But you didn't do that."

"No, instead I oh so bravely ran away like a warrior," I corrected my previous statement with a roll of my eyes.

He nodded, "Exactly! You were frightened, had no idea what you were gonna do, didn't have the foggiest of where to go or who to turn to, and yet you still did it. Took that leap and did the whole independent thing and guess what? You've been thriving!" His hands still cradling mine, I felt his thumbs start to trace soothing circles along my knuckles. "And sure, everything's been new and scary… finding a job, meeting new people, not caving to your family's demands… but no matter how afraid you may have got, you never hid from any of it. You've been facing your fears and meeting each new challenge head on. Now I'd call that pretty damn brave."

Wow, his pep talk game was way, way better than mine.

That said, I still eyed him dubiously. "Really?"

"Hell yeah! Shit, if I had to carry around as much fear inside of me as you do, I dunno if I'd be strong enough to do half the things you've done! You're a goddamn hero, babydoll!" he smiled big. "Now, I know this is something ya really want."

My face heated and I averted my gaze. "...how can you tell?"

"Trust me, I can read you pretty well by now," his fingers tweaked my nose. "So listen up: if you can do all that other stuff that terrified you before, if you can just grab hold and take charge of your life the way you have so far, then this one teensy-weensy audition should be a total piece of cake!"

"You really think so?" I frowned uncertainly at him.

"I know so!" he declared with a laugh. "So whaddya say? Think you're ready to do this?"

Though my chest was still tight with anxiety, I could feel that tiny glow of excitement and longing deep, deep down sparking back to life. I slowly smiled and gave a hesitant nod, "...yes, I believe so."

"Then what're you standing round here for? Go on, scoot!"

I didn't budge an inch. After a few seconds, I hung my head. "My feet won't move."

Lea blinked, then chuckled softly. "Do you need me to give ya a tow?"

I grimaced, "Maybe."

"Alright, I can help you inside, but that's as far as I'll be able to take ya. It'll be up to you to get yourself on that stage."

"Just get me through that door," I agreed quietly.

Linking his hand in mine, he turned and led the way towards the auditorium. I stumbled into a walk behind him, drawing what little strength I could from his warm, steady grip. With his help, I finally made it all the way up those daunting stairs and through that foreboding doorway.

Only to be stopped almost immediately once we stepped inside by someone standing in our way.

That someone being a tall, familiar, skinny guy with a spooky yet snappy suit.

"Elsa!" Jack flashed me what I was beginning to suspect was his signature ear-to-ear grin. "You don't know how thrilled I am to see that you could make it! Here to try out or just observe?"

"...try out?" I said, voice small. Yes, it came out just like that. Like it was a question. Like there was a right or wrong answer and I was just guessing, hoping for the best.

"Splendid, Splendid! Glad to hear it! I'll get you added to the director's list and your name will be called when it's your time to shine. For now, you can just take a seat and watch the others. Lea," he turned his gaze on him now, "good to see you too, but you know the rules. Unless you're here to audition, you're going to have to wait outside."

I unconsciously sidled closer to Lea, squeezing his hand.

Huh. Guess I actually wanted him to stick around and watch me make a fool out of myself. Shocked? I know I was.

Maybe it was because he thought I was brave. Maybe if he stayed, I could trick myself into thinking I was brave too.

Lea snuck a glance my way. Eyes crinkling, he squeezed my hand back before returning his attention to Jack with a sheepish grin and ruffled his fingers through his crimson spikes, "Aw c'mon, man, this is her first time! Could ya maybe be a pal, do me a solid and bend the rules a lil just this once?"

Jack crossed his arms, squinting at him with a flat look. Then he sighed and stepped to one side, his smile back and bigger than ever, "Alright, just this one time though! And you better be on your best behavior, bucko!"

"I will! Scout's honor!" he held up three fingers pressed together and beamed. "Thanks, man! Let's go, El." And with that, Lea was pulling me further inside.

The auditorium was larger on the inside than I expected, with rows upon rows of theater seating stretching out before us. While those seats were far from full, there were still more people here than I'd expected there would be, making me gulp. Auditions were already under way it seemed as I watched a familiar guy I recalled seeing in the food court previously - Joshua, I believe? - dip into a flamboyant bow before jumping down off the stage. Remaining up there was an old, clunky piano on wheels with Mullet Boy from the Blue Sitar seated at it.

"Setzer, you're up," came a call from someone sitting in the middle of the third row, presumably the director. All I could tell about him from the back of his head was that he had choppy, shoulder-length pink hair. Slumping lazily into the seat next to him with feet kicked up onto the chair in front of her was that blonde chick from Cinema XIII - I'd recognize that weird hairdo anywhere.

"Ah, looks like Marluxia The Douche-ah is running the show this time round," Lea whispered into my ear with a nod towards Mr Rosy-Locks as we walked down the aisle. "Not gonna be winning Personality Of The Year anytime soon, but I hear he can be a halfway decent director."

He then straightened back up, eyes scanning the people gathered here for a second before his face lit up, "Oo, let's sit with them!" His hands went to my shoulders and he steered me into a sharp turn down one of the rows. Coming to a stop next to two more faces I vaguely recognized, Lea greeted, "Ladies, mind if we join you?"

The two women looked up at us with friendly smiles, the ginger nodding, "Of course! Take a seat!"

We did just that, with the pair of them to my right and Lea to my left. He reached across in front of me to fistbump the closer of the two girls, "Sweet! Redheads of the world unite, booyah!"

I looked over with a timid grin. It was time once again for another one of my little misadventures into the world of small talk! Clearing my throat and tapping my sheep music against my knees to straighten them even though they were in no actual need of straightening, I asked, "It was Tiana and… Ariel, I believe?"

"Mm-hm!" Ariel closed her eyes as her smile grew. "Elsa, right? We haven't officially met yet, but I remember seeing you around at 7th Heaven that one night! You and Lea were amazing at karaoke! Well… really more so you. No offense, Lea," she giggled.

"None taken. I know my gal's got a beautiful pair o' lungs on her," he slung his arm around my shoulders, hugging me close and pressing a kiss into my hair.

Tiana leaned forward to look past Ariel and meet my gaze, "You really do. Do you work with a professional voice coach or anything?"

I blushed, tugging on my braid. "I, uh… no. No, nothing like that."

"Really?" Ariel's lips formed a surprised little 'o'. Then her face brightened once more, "Well, if you're looking for someone, I can put you in touch with mine if you'd like. His name is Sebastian and he's absolutely wonderful. He can be uptight and a bit of a party-pooper, but he gets results!"

Squeezing my braid harder now, I gaped at her slightly. "You actually have a voice coach?"

This was community theatre, as Lea had made a strong point of earlier. People here weren't supposed to have friggin' voice coaches!

"Yup! I'm going to be a famous singer one day and finally leave this sleepy town to tour all over the world, after all, so it's important I do my best right now! I've been practicing ever since I was-"

"Eric to the stage please," Marluxia's voice suddenly echoed throughout the room.

Ariel gasped excitedly and struck a finger up to her lips, shushing Tiana, Lea and me (despite the fact that none of us were talking) before eagerly sitting forward in her chair, practically buzzing with anticipation. That silver-haired Setzer guy - oh gosh, had he come in costume or was that crazy getup just what he normally wore? - swaggered cockily down the stairs to the right of the stage while another dude was coming up the left. The newcomer had short black hair, dimples when he smiled and I suppose what some might call Prince Charming good looks.

Ariel plonked her elbows down onto her knees and propped her chin up in both hands with a delighted sigh. "Isn't he dreamy?"

Tiana wrinkled her nose and muttered to me behind Ariel's head, "She has a bit of a crush."

"You're one to talk," Ariel snorted, elbowing her in the arm. "Naveen's should be up next. Believe me," she smirked towards me, "you haven't seen heart-eyes until you see the ones Tiana has for this guy."

"Shut up, do not!" she laughed, swatting her shoulder.

Brushing her off, Ariel suddenly pointed towards my sheet music. "May I?"

"Oh, uh… s-sure," I handed them over, freeing up both my hands to strangle my braid now. Noticing this, Lea took one of them in his own, shifting it over to the armrest between us and lacing his fingers into mine. The warmth of his palm against the back of my hand brought me some comfort and I felt a little less restless.

Ariel squinted at the papers for a second before grinning, "Oh wow, I love this song! Good choice! Although, if I remember correctly…" she flipped towards the end. "Ah, yup! A second singer does come in. They only have a couple lines though. I can go up with you and fill in for those bits if ya want, the director shouldn't mind!"

"That's really nice… thank you," I smiled, taking the pages back. Sally had said pretty much the same thing when I'd texted her to make sure the song would be okay, but that still had meant I needed to find someone to sing those few extra lines. I hadn't counted on someone finding me instead. Thank goodness for small miracles.

This was one of my most favorite songs too. One from a musical I'd watched over and over again when I was a child, so often that it'd probably driven my parents to the point of insanity. I had just identified so much with the character who sang this number and it still to this day held a very special place in my heart, even after all these years. I knew this song forwards and backwards. Knew it like the back of my hand. I figured if I had any chance of leaving any sort of good impression here today, it would be with this song.

Looking up from the music notes scrawled across the papers, I saw that that Eric person had left. He'd been replaced by a man with a newsie hat on over his wavy, dark brown hair and was singing something jazzy. The way Tiana was reddening while Ariel giggled and whispered to her, I suspected this had to be Naveen. I tried to just sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Tried to banish the anxiety from my thoughts, instead focusing more on Lea's hand now toying with my fingers. On the way he lightly traced up and down their lengths, making them tingle pleasantly. Hoping that little tingle would help keep the nervousness at bay.

But it didn't.

I began to flinch slightly with each new name called, fearing it would be mine. Feeling a little relief when it wasn't, as well as a little annoyance from just wanting to get this over and done with already. A flinch for when Olette was called, who was sitting with a boy with black spiky hair held up by a headband. I idly wondered if it was that buddy of hers who hadn't been able to make it to Friday night drinks - Pence, I believe? Another flinch for when Yuna was called, some brunette with mismatched eyes who sang a pop song I was unfamiliar with. Two more flinches for each of her friends when their names were called, a perky blonde with a long ponytail full of small braids and a freaky looking goth chick in a tight, strappy leather outfit. And yet another flinch for when Rhyme was called, a girl whose sweet demeanor was at odds with the little skull on her black cap and the rap number she'd chosen to sing.

I had to keep resisting the urge to glance towards the doors in back. The ones leading to the outside world. To freedom. Not for the first time, I wondered… what if I made a run for it? You know, just straight up booked it? The idea did hold merit and was very tempting. Nay, extremely tempting.

The only drawback? I'd hate myself.

Because as much as I was dreading this, Lea hadn't been wrong. This was something I wanted. Like… really, really wanted. I'd been trying to lie to myself, pretending I didn't really care, downplaying how important it actually was to me. But this was something I'd dreamt about since I was little. Sadly, I had lost that dream somewhere along the way as I had grown older. Had misplaced and forgotten it in favor of pleasing my parents, of fulfilling their wishes and expectations for me and how I led my life. I had carelessly discarded it, giving it up for nothing more than useless childhood fantasy.

But now it had found its way back to me and I'd been given a second chance. And even if it ended up going nowhere and turned out to be nothing more than a deadend, I still had to try. I just knew that this was something that I had to do. That I needed to do. For me. For the sake of my own happiness.

...gah, just why did it have to be so scary though?!

And all these women trying out before me? Were so not helping! They were all so amazing and talented. Each one seemed better than the last. Each one had most likely been practicing for this audition for days, if not weeks. Each one had probably done this at least once before. Everyone knew everyone here and were all friends. Everyone, that is, except for me. How could I, a stranger with no real experience or training and very little preparation, possibly even hope to stand a chance?

Man, making a break for it through that back door was looking better and better by the second.

My fingers clutched the sheet music more tightly, wrinkling and creasing it after I'd tried so hard not to this whole time. I didn't really seem to care anymore. I could feel the blood draining from my face and-

"Yawn, total snoozefest," came a sudden whisper in my ear.

I jerked my head around towards it, blinking owlishly at Lea once, then twice. "...huh?"

"Her," he nodded to the current girl trying out, her long golden hair ending in curls. "That Aurora chick. She's got me just 'bout ready to hibernate over here."

My wide eyes darted back and forth between her and him. Then it happened. A tiny snerk, escaping through my nose before I could stop it. Too late I clasped a hand over my mouth. After a short pause, I lowered it to whisper back, "You don't really mean that. You're just trying to distract me."

He bobbed his shoulders and grinned. "Is it working?"

I looked away now, carefully schooling my expression as I attempted to smooth the crumples out of my sheet music. "...maybe."

Next up was Tiana. "Jeez, talk about frog in your throat," Lea murmured low out of the corner of his mouth. A mutinous little snort burst out of my nose and I tried to shush him. Then it was Ariel's turn. "Love that girl to death but I'm sorry, a warbling seagull sounds better." I bit back a soft pft and pinched his arm. I was trying not to laugh, I really was, but each remark was so ridiculous, so stupid, so obviously not true that it was hard to resist. A Snow White was called next - now that was a stage name if I ever heard one. At least, I hoped it was. She'd gotten about halfway through her audition when I heard a hushed, "Tch, who taught her to sing, a buncha tone-deaf coal miners?"

I spluttered, clamping my hand firmly over his mouth. "Okay, you need to stop now," I hissed out in a poor attempt to hide my amusement.

There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Then I felt him licking my fingers.

"Ugh, real mature," I scrunched up my face, snatching my hand back only to wipe it off on his cheek a second later.

"Psh, acting like ya don't like it," he sniggered, cupping the side of my head so he could pull me in and rub his damp cheek to mine.

I squirmed, trying to break free. "Gross! Why? Just… why?"

Grip holding me firmly in place while he still nuzzled our cheeks together, he cooed, "Consider it a good luck charm from me to you! Now you have no choice but to knock their socks off!"

"How old are you, seven?" I grunted, trying to wedge an elbow between us. "You seriously need to gro-"

"Could Elsa please step onto the stage now?"

Both Lea and I froze for a split second. Fudge, I'd all but forgotten where I was and why I was here. Now it all came crashing back to me.

Ka-thunk.

What was that, you might be wondering? Oh nothing really. Just the sound of my heart plummeting to the bottom of my gut.

Before I'd even realized what I was doing, I'd sprung up onto my feet and was walking briskly towards the center aisle with all the grace and dignity I could muster. As if I couldn't still feel Lea's slobber drying on my cheek. Good luck charm, indeed. I'd show him good luck!

...that hadn't come across sounding as threatening as I would have liked.

It took a few seconds for it to really sink in. What I was doing. Where I was going. What I was about to do. I was about to audition… to sing in front of all of these people. I had to remind myself that this was something that I really, truly wanted. It was hard to remember right now in this exact second, but the desire was still there. Way deep, deep down inside of me, there was still that tiny spark valiantly burning away, smothered and small though it may be at the moment.

As each step brought me closer to that stage, I felt it again. That chilly dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. The iciness seemed to spread outward and I slowly grew numb. My mind started to feel detached and far away from the rest of my body, like I was no longer in control of it. Instead, it was more like I was only a passenger as it kept moving me forward seemingly of its own accord now, taking me up those stairs leading to my doom. That's right, my doom. I wasn't being over dramatic here at all. Not one bit.

Conceal, don't feel.

As I started crossing the stage, I was hardly even aware of Ariel out of the corner of my eye, whispering something to Marluxia before he gave a curt nod and she was scrambling up those steps after me. My ankle boots against the hardwood echoed loudly throughout the quiet theater. Too loudly, it felt like. But it paled in comparison to the thundering of my heart - oh gosh, could everyone else hear it too?

Conceal, don't feel.

All too soon, I was reaching the pianist and offering him the (rather abused at this point) sheet music with a shaky hand. He took it, looking it over briefly before setting it down on the music rack and smiling, "Just give me a nod when you're ready."

Ariel popped up then, plonking down onto the bench beside him with a grin. "I'll just sit with Demyx here and jump in for the parts you need me. Don't worry, you'll do great!"

My mouth tightened into a crude approximation of a smile before I turned to face the audience.

Big mistake.

Jeez, were there more people out there now? I could swear there were more people. Somehow, I willed my feet to move me closer to the front and center of the performance area. My fingers were running along my braid nonstop, up and down, up and down. My breathing had become so rapid and shallow. It felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen into my lungs. Could the air be thinner here on stage? You know, all the way up at this higher altitude of a whopping five feet?

Conceal, don't feel.

My eyes darted from face to unfamiliar face, not sure where to look. At the director maybe? That'd make sense, right? He'd be the one to decide my fate here, after all. I glanced down at Marluxia. At that blonde chick next to him - maybe she was his assistant director? Did community theater even have an assistant director? Well I suppose it would just depend on- focus, Elsa, focus! I squeezed my eyes shut with a grimace before opening them back up, looking to that pair once more. By their expressions, they both already seemed so remarkably unimpressed by me and I hadn't even begun yet. No, staring at them would only rattle me more.

I gripped at my braid more tightly and my gaze shifted about once more, almost desperate now, searching for what, I wasn't quite sure. But at last I seemed to find it - a face I knew. Lea's face. There, suddenly, like a beacon in the crowd. I wasn't quite sure how I'd not seen him until now. When our eyes met, he merely bobbed his head slightly and smiled at me. So small, so simple. And yet it filled me with such warmth and encouragement.

Lea thought I was brave.

And maybe, just for this one moment, I could pretend to be.

I inhaled deeply, my breath a raspy hiss through my nose. Holding it in for a couple seconds, I then puffed it out softly, releasing my braid and letting my hands fall to my sides. Finally, I gave Demyx a stiff nod over my shoulder.

Welp. This was it. No turning back now.

It was probably only a second, maybe two, but it felt like an eternity before that first piano note sounded. When at last it did, I swear it practically gave me a heart attack and my knees almost buckled. But I steadied myself, my clammy hands smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles out of my dress as I let the tune wash over me, trying to find solace in its familiarity. I kept my eyes fixed on Lea. Anywhere else and I knew I would lose my nerve completely. I could hear it coming in the music. My cue to start singing. I sucked in a breath.

"Every inch of me is trembling," oh gosh, that had never been more true than it was in this very moment, "but not from the cold. Something is familiar like a dream I can reach but not quite hold." Was I too quiet? Pretty sure I was too quiet. Licking my dry lips, I pushed my quavering voice to be louder, "I can sense you there like a friend I've always known... I'm arriving and it feels like I am hom-" I choked, my tongue stumbling over the word. My pulse flatlined, my blood turned to ice in my veins, and every atom in me was screaming at me to run, run, run.

But I resisted. I don't know how, but I did. Maybe it was Lea's reassuring gaze still holding mine. Maybe it was that spark deep down inside, flaring up obstinately to fight back against the cold fear closing in around my heart. Whatever it was, I remained rooted to the spot, clenching and unclenching my hands and eyes hard.

"I have always been a fortress," my heart hammered in my ears as I stubbornly pushed on, pretending I hadn't made a mistake, "cold secrets deep inside. You have secrets too, but you don't have to hide." Lea folded his arms atop the back of the chair in front of him, bending forward to rest his chin atop them and looking quite content. Feeling emboldened, I went into the chorus, "Show yourself, I'm dying to meet you. Show yourself, it's your turn." I think my voice was getting stronger. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking. "Are you the one I've been looking for all of my life? Show yourself, I'm ready to learn... Ah-ah, ah-ah!" I rang out the last bit and I heard Ariel's voice echo an answering call behind me.

"I've never felt so certain, all my life I've been torn," some of my tension was beginning to melt away and I took a tiny step forward. "But I'm here for a reason, could it be the reason I was born?" I could feel something bubbling up inside my chest… giddiness, maybe? "I have always been so different, normal rules did not apply. Is this the day? Are you the way I finally find out why?" A smile was beginning to find its way onto my face. I couldn't believe it. A small, but actual, genuine smile of pure joy.

"Show yourself, I'm no longer trembling!" I burst out suddenly, almost triumphantly. Lea was lifting his head back up, face slack, eyes round. I had no idea what that meant. Was it a good reaction? A bad one? Either way, I was spurred on to do better. "Here I am, I've come so far! You are the answer I've waited for all of my life! Oh, show yourself, let me see who you are!" I wasn't even looking at him anymore. I was starting to forget about where I was, just getting lost in the was the only thing that mattered to me anymore in that moment.

I brought my voice back down, singing slowly, sweetly, "Come to me now, open your door, don't make me wait one moment more... Oh, come to me now," I repeated the line with more energy, "open your door, don't make me wait one moment more!"

"Where the north wind meets the sea," Ariel chimed in now and I took the moment to close my eyes, pulling in a big breath and reveling in the delightful tingle in my chest. I was entering the home stretch and there was no fear left. Only excitement. "There's a river full of memory... Come, my darling, homeward bound…"

"I am found!" I sang, putting all I had into it, letting the last word stretch and ring throughout the theater. "Show yourself, step into the power! Grow yourself into something new!"

Ariel came in one last time, "You are the one you've been waiting for…"

"All of my life!" I belted out, finishing the line she'd started. "Oh, show yourself! Ah-ah, ah-ah!" I vocalized the notes a few more times, each round louder and more confident than the last before finally ending the song in one long crescendo.

The auditorium was suddenly very quiet except for my low panting as I tried to catch my breath.

Then I heard it.

The sound of clapping. More specifically, of one single person clapping very enthusiastically, reverberating noisily around the otherwise dead silent room.

Feeling my face erupt in heat, I immediately buried it in my hands. I knew who it was, even before I parted my fingers to peek between them out into the audience. Yup. There he was. Lea, up on his feet to give me a standing ovation while everyone else remained seated, staring at him blankly.

The dork.

Ariel was at my side now, snickering as she muttered behind her hand to me, "This is why they normally don't let the boyfriends in to watch."

He didn't look like he planned on quitting any time soon either.

"Hsst!" I blew through my grit teeth at him discreetly. Well… as discreetly as I could, given I was still standing on a stage in front of a room full of people. "Stop it," I whispered, narrowing my eyes on him. I could see Jack making long, annoyed strides towards Lea. "You hear me? Stop. It."

He seemed to take 'stop it' to mean 'applaud harder and pepper it with a few shrill whistles for good measure.'

I sighed, hanging my head and pressing my fingers between my eyebrows.

"D'aw, I think it's cute," I heard Ariel laugh and I hazarded a glance up again. Lea, finally spotting Jack coming for him, had vaulted himself over some chairs into the next row and was trying to make a run for it. "Your boyfriend is your biggest fan."

"...yes," I rubbed a curled finger over my lips, eyes crinkling as I watched the little scene he was making. Sally had been waiting for him on the other end of the seats opposite of Jack. Realizing his mistake too late, she snagged him by the ear before he could backtrack and started dragging him out of the auditorium. "Yes, I suppose he is."

I still had to sing my second song, the one from Wicked itself. That one ended up being a lot less nerve-wracking. Don't get me wrong, a few jitters yet remained to wriggle about my insides, but I was still riding the endorphin high from getting through my first song, making the second one seem like a breeze in comparison. When I was done, the only acknowledgement I got from Marluxia was an impassive, "Thank you," before he was calling the next person. I hurried off the stage and had a quick word with Jack and Sally before saying my farewell and walking outside.

The sun was beginning to set by now, making the shadows stretch long. It wasn't hard to spot Lea, leaning against his car as he thumbed through his phone and waited.

My heart swelled and my feet suddenly had a mind of their own, propelling me forward.

He glanced up, pocketing his phone and grinning big at me as he used his foot to push himself up off the car. "Hey! You kicked some serious ass up th-" A surprised grunt was forced out of him as I suddenly crashed into his chest, hugging him tightly around the waist.

"...thank you for that," I muffled quietly into his shirt.

Lea was very still for a second. But then I felt a small chuckle rumbling throughout his body as his arms slowly wrapped around my shoulders, returning the embrace. "Nah, that was all you, El. I just provided the wheels that got ya here."

I loosened my grip but didn't fully let go. Just enough so I could lean back slightly to smile up at him. "Thanks for coming with me. I didn't think I'd wanted anyone here, but… it made a difference and meant more to me than I realized it would. And thank you for encouraging me to do this and…" my nose wrinkled a bit, "...and for making me get up on that karaoke stage a couple weeks ago, despite my multiple protests."

He snorted, but his face softened as he brushed some of my hair behind my ear, his thumb just barely grazing along my cheek with the gesture. "What can I say? Being a pushy, overbearing asshole is one of my many wonderful talents."

"That's not what I meant," my eyelids drooped.

"I know," he hummed a laugh as he pulled me in for another hug, squeezing me close as he rested his chin atop my head. We stayed that way for a few seconds more before he released a heavy sigh. Then he pulled back, cupped my face with both his hands, tenderly pressed his lips to my forehead, and...

...blew a goddamn raspberry.

I gasped and shoved him away, furiously scrubbing at my brow with my forearm. "Ugh, was getting more of your slobber on my face completely necessary?!"

"Oh without a doubt! I know what a huge fan of it ya are," he smirked cheekily as he made his way around his car to open the door for me. "Now then, shall we get you home, m'lady, so we can spread the good news?"

I squinted at him with a frown as I followed him over and took a seat. "...what good news?"

"That ya got the starring role, of course!" he chirped down at me.

"I did not-" I was interrupted as he shut the car door in my face. Huffing and buckling myself in, I waited until he was climbing into the driver seat to try again, "They won't even be announcing who's getting what part until next week, but I seriously doubt they're going to give me a lead."

"You're right, my mistake," he stuck his key into the ignition and twisted it, shooting me a wink. "They'll give ya two."

"Goodness, I'm getting two leads now?" I fought the upward tug I felt at one side of my mouth. "Do you even know how plays work?"

"Course! That's why I know for a fact that they're just gonna give you all the parts."

I bit back a grin. "Huh. A one-woman Wicked show. Now that'd certainly be a… choice."

"And one I have every confidence in you to pull off!" he nodded chipperly as we exited the parking lot.

I just shook my head at him. Honestly, I didn't care what part I got. I'd be honored just to be included in the chorus if they even gave me that much. But no, all that I really cared about was that I'd actually done it. Gone through with the audition and lived to tell the tale. And sure, it had scared me out of my mind, but in the end it'd been worth it. Because you know what? Turned out I'd absolutely loved singing on that stage. And I knew for sure now that this was something I wanted to do… something that I wanted to play a part in my life, no matter how big or small. And so what if I most likely wasn't going to get the lead this time around? I could just use this experience to learn the ropes and get better prepared.

Better prepared, that is, to totally crush it at the audition for the next show.

Author's Note: And yet another scene where I included the full lyrics of a song sang by a character - again, it's not something I would normally do, but I felt this was a rare occasion where it's important enough to Elsa's character growth that again I shouldn't just gloss over it. But gosh, I feel so awkward writing detailed singing scenes! Why oh why did I have to make her want to do something with singing? This was a story decision I fast grew to regret, haha xD I hope it turned out okay tho! Anyhoo, for anyone out there who hasn't seen Frozen 2, the song she sings this chapter, Show Yourself, is from that - I suggest you give it a listen if you haven't heard it before :) Actually hearing it does it way more justice than I could ever do in writing xD And I've decided that Disney movies still exist in this AU, they're just musicals now and the characters in those musicals most likely just all have different names than their Disney movie counterparts, but the plot is otherwise unaffected xP Fun fact: The ice cream this chapter, Ever After, is named after Corona's keyblade and I imagine its description on the menu would look something like: "Let down your golden lemon soft serve! A specialty from Corona, this treat is garnished with edible flowers and served in a stack of purple waffles cones to form a tower."

So, did Elsa manage to impress the powers that be at the audition? Will she make the cut and land a part the musical? Will she get a lead, a bit part, or the boot? WAS Lea's slobber actually lucky enough to tip the scales in her favor? Find out… NOT next chapter xD No, we have something else on the horizon for next time… could that fated yet dreaded weekend with the folks finally and at long last be upon us? Stay tuned to find out!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[no-one-hears-me]

@trauma-rat tagged me to do this 💚💚💚💚💚 green hearts for you :p

1) search your name + core + aesthetic in google and see what images come out.

it's funny because I thought it would probably just be anime stuff, and you'll never believe what it is 😶 that's not my aesthetic 😔

2) some questions!

name: Sera

nickname: I don't think there are any???

zodiac: the website I used didn't give a sun sign idk what that is??? Zodiac Libra, Rising Virgo, Moon Aquarius

languages: English 👉👈 but I can usually figure out what's being said when I read Spanish, I can't translate it though

favorite season: Spring!!! I like rain and clouds and warm (not hot!!!!) weather and all the animals

favorite flower: I'm not a flower person??? I don't know a whole lot but I like roses, hyacinths, and queen Anne's lace (Mr Aloe is better than any flower 😊)

favorite scent: okay so like, going on a walk in the woods on an early spring morning after it rained all night? stuff like that. For candles, I mostly like fruit scents and nature scents

favorite color: black, but I also like dark gray and certain shades of red (red and black is kinda the best color combo ever)

favorite animals: all of them 💜 my favorites would be, ducks, basically anything you can keep as a pet (dogs, cats, rabbits, geckos, whatever) and farm animals, and also woodland animals (like deer, raccoons, that stuff)

favorite fictional chatacters: I dont really have any??? I kind of don't watch movies/tv and I haven't read any fiction in awhile. I can't think of anyone :/

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: hot chocolate

average sleep: not sure, and it depends. I'm really inconsistent with what time I go to bed and my sleep schedule is wack and changes frequently. so usually like 3-6 hours maybe?

dogs or cats: I love both 💙💙 and I have both!! but I would probably own a cat

blankets: I get hot super easily so while I like blankets, I can't use too many. normally two and one in the summer

dream trip: I'm not a fan of traveling so I don't have any particular destination, but I'd like to go somewhere with pretty nature scenery with like, some really nice woods to walk in? and also not a tourist place. so I can't name a city for that, but probably somewhere in Europe, like Ireland or Sweden or something

blog established: last January??

followers: I have a policy about not sharing my number of followers, so... there's more than two of you

random fact about me: so this isn't random to irl people but I don't think I've ever mentioned it here before??? I love knives!! currently I don't have a whole lot and the ones I do have are kinda small, but I wanna get some bigger/cooler ones

I'll tag @dorkylittleweirdo @canadiancryptidhunter @trauma2keepyouwarmer @transpicuous-system @lilyalone @fawning-fawn @wrathfulfawn @gummyworm-core @infiniys @abandoned-monster @bitterandmad @bruisedmelancholy @softsaram @what-i-remember-of-you @affectionwhxre @gmsandxrs @lowclasscrybaby yes I'm being obnoxious with the tagging but I'm just tagging some mutuals and people I see in my notes, you don't have to do it if you don't want to 😬 but I like seeing everyone's answers!!! 🖤🖤

[actualyuuri]

If you don't plan on finishing your latest Viktuuri story, will you share what your plans for it were? I know a summary/outline type of thing isn't the same as writing out your story, and I understand if you don't want to do that. I'm asking because I'd feel a bit of closure but that's selfish and I know that. I think about that fic a lot.

I’m afraid it was too long ago for me to recall what my exact plans were.

BUT! I do remember the password to the doc, and just checked, and I had part of chapter four written but unpublished. Might as well share it! A warning, it might have some typos/rough patches as I don’t believe I ever went through it and refined it like I normally do.

(if you are reading this and haven’t read chapters 1-3 of “if i’m never your hero”, what is below will make zero sense, so maybe check this out first)

INT. HISTORY MAKER TRIBUNE BUILDING — MORNING

Yuuri has been waiting for Thursday.

He’s reclining at his desk, earbuds in his ears and an article that he’s barely paying attention to playing in a monotone, perfectly articulate voice. His mind is distracted. Because it’s Thursday. It’s finally Thursday. It’s Thursday, which means that he and Victor are going out for lunch today, which means that he really should not have stopped another mugging last night because laughing makes his bruised ribs hurt, which means that—

A finger taps his shoulder.

Yuuri jumps, one arm reaching up to tug on the right wire of the earphones and his foot pressing against the ground, swiveling his chair around. His ears instantly adjust to the environment he hadn’t paid attention to, lips instantly parting to see if he can taste anything in the air.

“Guess who.”

He doesn’t have to, really.

Firstly, there’s only two people with Russian accents at the Tribune, and Yuuri highly doubts that Yurio would use such a flirtatious tone with him.

Secondly—embarrassingly enough—Yuuri can recognize his heartbeat by now. He hadn’t tried to memorize the sound of it, no, it had just happened.

Thirdly, he uses the same cologne every day. It’s musky, strong but reserved in the scent. Familiar, at this point. Yuuri inhales, licks his lips and tries to calm his own heartbeat, because, admittedly, Victor had scared him.

“I have no idea,” he jokes, and he’s smiling already, which is a little ridiculous, perhaps a little overenthusiastic, but it’s Thursday, it’s Thursday, and Thursday means that they’re going on a date today, a lunch date, probably short due to the limitations of a lunch break but a date all the same.

It’s Thursday.

With one hand, Yuuri twirls the earbud, the black wire going round and round until it’s spinning so fast that it’s no longer visible. In front of him, he hears the sound of skin rustling against fabric. Victor’s hands must be in his pockets. “Take a guess.”

“Is it…” Yuuri starts, and he’s laughing, for some reason, and he tries to bite it back but it’s hard with Victor, somehow. “Leo?”

“Mmm. Not quite.”

(Victor is smiling, too. And his heart racing.)

“Guang Hong?” Yuuri tries. The article is still playing in his left ear so he removes that earbud, too, attention now fully put on the man standing in front of him. He licks his lips, and a second later, he hears Victor do the same.

The sliding of a chair on wood. The swoosh of air as Victor sits down.

“You can do better than that,” Victor urges.

“Emil? Mickey?”

He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair—the sound of the strands parting beneath his fingers, the gentle exhalation that sends a shiver up Yuuri’s spine. “Are we still on for lunch?” he asks. “Our second of many dates?”

If Yuuri was repressing his smile before, he’s now grinning. He can’t be bothered to care. “Many?”

“Yes, don’t you think?”

At that, Yuuri retreats by ducking his head, folding his arms across his chest. He tries desperately to think of a witty retort, a kind thing to say, anything, anything, but Victor Nikiforov—not for the first time—has left him speechless. “Yeah… I’d… Um, yeah.”

With his palm, Victor taps out a beat on Yuuri’s desk. “We’ll leave at eleven?”

“That’s a bit early,” Yuuri points out quietly, taking extra caution to make sure his tone doesn’t sound like that of a rejection, because he is most definitely not trying to reject Victor Nikiforov. “Do you think Celestino is okay with that?”

“What can I say?” Victor drawls, and pauses, as though letting the words settle. He leans forward, the chair creaking, the scent of his cologne growing more prominent, the warmth of his skin searing as his fingers brush against Yuuri’s, a ghost of a touch. “I just so happen to be hungry today. So I’d like an early lunch. It’s completely unrelated to my desire to spend as much time with you as possible as soon as possible.”

“Right, unrelated,” Yuuri teases back, but it comes out breathless, so, embarrassed, he leans forward to poke him. His finger lands in Victor’s chest—bullseye, probably—and then he spins his own chair back around to face the computer, reaching for his earphones. “See you at eleven.”

No footsteps.

Yuuri keeps the black buds in his fingers, not putting them back in just yet.

A pause.

“How about ten?”

“Victor,” Yuuri groans with fake exasperation, and he can’t help but be overwhelmed with excitement, the man standing behind him so absolutely captivating and interesting and endearing, above anything else. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very determined?”

“Oh, all the time. It’s one of my better traits. That, and the handsomeness. See you at eleven, Yuuri Katsuki.” The chair is pushed back in and there are finally quieting footsteps as Victor walks away. There’s an extra spring in his step. Yuuri smiles at the thought of that and makes sure he’s facing his computer before covering his face with a hand, trying his very best not to freak out where Victor would most definitely be able to see him.

There’s a snort from his left, and Yuuri jumps again, unsure how he hadn’t been able to notice the young boy standing near him. “That was physically painful to witness,” Yurio tells him.

EXT. CAFE — 10:30 AM

It’s sort of automatic, Yuuri taking Victor’s arm.

Neither of them say anything about it. Nor do they say much about anything as they walk to the nearest restaurant, shoulders brushing against each other’s far, far more than they need to. Yuuri doesn’t bother to use his white cane, simply pays attention on his own and trusts Victor.

When they sit down, Victor laughs.

“What?” Yuuri asks, hand self-consciously reaching up to brush through his hair, in case there’s something in it, then touching his shirt.

“Oh, sorry. There’s a painting of a dog on the wall. It looks like my dog,” Victor explains, and Yuuri hears a camera click. “Standard poodle.”

“I used to have a toy poodle,” Yuuri provides, and turns to his right. He can sense the wall a few feet away, can even tell where the air parts and the picture frame begins. But the contents of the image are lost to him. “Is the dog playing poker?”

Victor laughs. “No, he’s… He’s on a beach. Running on a beach. The water is turquoise. It almost… It almost looks like it could be mistaken for the horizon. Like it’s meant to be either the sky or the sea, sort of an optical illusion. There’s a gradient, but it’s so subtle that it’s hard to tell.” Then, Victor shrugs, turning back towards him. “You had a toy poodle?”

“Vicchan,” Yuuri adds, mind briefly contemplating the irony of the name. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Makkachin. Would you want to meet him?”

Without even thinking about it, Yuuri nods.

“He’d like you,” Victor decides after a moment, thumbing through the menu. “In, fact, he’s—oh.” He looks up. “Want me to read off the menu to you? It’s not very long. Sandwiches, burgers, pasta.”

Yuuri shrugs. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having. I’m not picky.”

“You’re sure? What if we don’t have the same taste?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Read it to me, then.”

Victor sets his menu flat on the table, begins to read off different items. A few items in, Yuuri feels fingers brush against his and he takes in a sharp breath, surprised to hear Victor’s heartbeat is hardly quicker than normal. He shuts his eyes as Victor’s thumb brushes against his knuckles, a quick sweep of them, then settles on the back of Yuuri’s palm, creating a small, circular pattern.

He realizes he hadn’t been paying attention to half of the menu.

“And what are you having?” Yuuri asks, and if he’s breathless, he’d put the blame on the contact between them, on the fire that erupts over every inch of him with each of Victor’s movements.

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he responds.

Yuuri bites his lip, suppressing a smile. “I don’t know what I’m having.”

Victor shrugs—Yuuri hears the muscles, the faint creaking of the chair, the delicate flick of the air. “I guess we’ll just wing it, then.” His thumb ceases its movements on Yuuri’s palm and drifts higher, to his wrist, where it remains still. “So tell me what you think of my article.”

“Your article…?” Yuuri starts, both knowing that Victor is speaking about his vigilante-based piece and hoping that he isn’t.

When Victor had first told him about the article, he’d mentioned that the vigilante had saved his life after a jewelry store robbery. Yuuri had tried to think back, tried to remember, and, yes, he’d pushed someone out of the way of a vehicle, had brought them to the ground and been gone again in an instant, chasing the perpetrators. Then, though, he hadn’t known it was Victor, hadn’t been able to recognize the heartbeat that is now growing more and more familiar each day.

But he’d saved Victor’s life.

And then, during the factory fires, he’d spoken to him.

Victor shifts in his chair, leaning forward, and his thumb presses more firmly into Yuuri’s wrist with excitement. “You know the article. Tell me what you think.” With that, he rests his free hand on his thigh, begins drumming his index finger on the fabric. He’s restless, Yuuri realizes. He’s restless seemingly all the time. “I’ve been trying to search for more sightings the past few days, but no such luck.”

The past few days, Yuuri had kept his head lower than usual. But if he hopes to continue what he’d been doing, he can’t do that forever. It’d be best to get Victor off of this track in the first place, but given the sudden step-up of his heart rate and catch to his breath, that won’t be an easy task. “I think it’s, um…”

He trails off, torn between praise and forced criticism.

“I spoke to Celestino about it,” Victor adds, thoughtful. “He said he’ll publish it.”

“That’s… Great,” Yuuri decides, and keeps his head turned towards the table. He feels Victor’s fingers leave his arm. “I hope it sells.”

Victor hums. “You don’t sound like you mean that.”

Yuuri glances up, apologetic. “I do mean it! I do, really, it’s just… I don’t want you getting hurt. But we’ve talked about that already.” He swallows. “Really, I do think it’s great. Just… Yeah.”

There are footsteps, and then suddenly there’s an individual standing to their left, hands being smoothed down a cotton apron. “Have you two decided?”

Before Yuuri can even open his mouth to speak, Victor has answered.

“I’m having whatever he’s having.”

Yuuri flounders, a reddish blush powdering his cheeks as his mouth opens and closes in an attempt to say something. “Uh… A cheeseburger.”

“Two cheeseburgers?” The waitress confirms.

Victor nods, then she walks away.

A companionable silence settles between them and Yuuri leans back in his chair. He feels a foot press against his ankle and he grins automatically, pushing back. Victor’s foot moves away and Yuuri has to shift forward in his chair to chase it. He can’t seem to find it, though, and it takes him a moment to realize that Victor put it behind the leg of his chair. “Cheater,” he accuses.

Victor laughs and kicks him lightly again, and this time Yuuri is relentless, catching him before he can retreat. His chair creaks loudly when he accidentally shifts it a few inches, and Victor takes a sip of his water, presumably glancing around the restaurant to see if anyone has noticed them.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Victor replies without missing a beat.

“And which is this?”

Yuuri only realizes what he’d just said after the words had left his mouth. If he could reach out and grab them from the air, he would, but instead he just clears his throat, pushing his glasses up with his left hand. With his right, he absently reaches for the white stick that’s leaning against the table.

“Love already, Yuuri Katsuki?” he teases, then whistles. “Well…”

“You said it, not me,” Yuuri points out, and kicks Victor’s shin once again.

Victor shrugs one shoulder. “And here I was, hoping to catch you off guard once again. I guess you’re learning my tricks.”

“You’re a one trick pony,” Yuuri replies.

“Ah, now that’s not true.” Yuuri feels fingers drift against his own once again, and warmth floods through him, his heart beating just a little bit faster. He hears Victor swallow. “I’ve got many talents.”

There’s a blatant suggestion behind the words, and Yuuri’s breath catches. Instead of replying, he leans forward and takes a sip of his drink, using the hand that isn’t currently underneath Victor’s. He moves his fingers against Victor’s own, turning his palm upwards. The other man gets the hint and laces their hands, offering a slight squeeze.

Yuuri isn’t sure where his own audacity had come from, as Victor is normally the one to initiate things, but he smiles a little to himself—can’t help it, really.

It doesn’t take long for their conversation to steer itself back on track. They discuss coworkers, assignments from Celestino, everything that isn’t Victor’s article, which Yuuri is thankful for. He worries, though, that Victor may have noticed his reluctance to discuss it. The last thing he wants is for Victor to think that he thinks it’s bad, and that he’s not a good journalist by extension, but he also wishes he’d turn his attentions elsewhere.

All he can do is hope.

EXT. WEST 43RD STREET — NIGHT

Yuuri’s shoulder hurts like hell.

He sits on the edge of the roof of Ice Castle, gripping it with his right hand and trying to determine whether or not he should head inside and call it a night. Hopefully, he could prevent Yuuko from seeing the injury—if she’s even still inside. He’d underestimated a lithe mugger, who had had an unexpectedly sharp right hook.

He rolls it, groans out loud and arches his back, eyes squeezing shut and ears still acutely listening to the city around him. With his other hand, he tugs off his mask, needing to breathe fully, and brushes his hair back. He gels it back when he goes out at night—otherwise it could fall in front of his eyes and obstruct his fighting.

After he determines he’ll head back inside, sirens go off in the distance.

At least six blocks away.

He breathes.

Shuts his eyes.

Narcotics. In progress.

West 50th Street and 9th Avenue.

Yuuri squeezes his shoulder again, testing.

It’s just drugs—the police can probably handle it.

And then he hears a gunshot, just a faint echo of a thing.

Staggering slightly, he gets to his feet, stretches his back. He approaches the edge of the roof, makes the easy jump to the next building, and his walk slowly develops into a jog which slowly develops into a run, and then it’s a full sprint, the wind blowing against his still-exposed face and hair.

After another jump, he slides the mask back over his head, listens as the situation develops. The gunshots—there were two total—ceased, but he has made it this far, so he may as well continue.

When he has finally made it, he crouches on a rooftop above the scene, panting. His stamina is reliable, but it has been pushed to the limit. He collapses against an air conditioning unit, listens carefully to the activity below. It would appear a few individuals have been apprehended—he hears the police officers speaking into their walkie talkies and getting back into their cars.

So there was no reason for him to come, after all.

(And then something grabs his shoulder.)

Time slows.

Everything slows.

Like traversing through thick mud—no, quicksand, sinking and sinking.

First, he gets to his feet and swivels on his heels, grabbing the attacker’s wrist hard. He bends it but then another hand comes flying out of nowhere, fist meeting his cheek and knocking him off balance.

His heart leaps as the ground below comes into view, being knocked onto his stomach with his upper torso hanging over the edge of the roof. He scrambles off of the edge and turns again so that he can see his assailant.

Black.

Wearing all black.

Yuuri’s vision spins.

The attacker, taking advantage of the fact that they’re above him, lurches forward with their right leg. It lands on Yuuri’s bad shoulder and he groans in pain, trying desperately to make it onto his feet so that he can better defend himself.

He manages to get onto his feet, gripping his left shoulder to try and press away the pain and punching with his left hand. However, it doesn’t hit—the attacker dodges by stepping backwards, their movements quick.

When he licks his lips, he tastes blood.

“Who are you?” he manages to choke out, because his heart is racing and stalling for time may be the best option.

Instead of responding, the attacker predictably moves forward. Yuuri rolls to the right, back once again pressed against the air conditioning unit. He gets on top of it with one quick movement, now having the advantage of height.

Their hand moves to their waist.

Gleaming silver.

A knife.

He takes a step back on the air conditioning unit, glances around. If he’s fast, and if he’s smart, he can make it past them and make the short jump to the next rooftop. His advantage is his senses—it’s easy to predict movements. Their muscles tense in their right leg as they take a step forward with their left, grounding them.

With Yuuri above them, it appears they’re unsure of what to do.

Waiting, he realizes.

They’re waiting for him to get down.

And if they’re not moving first, despite the fact that they have a knife, there must be a reason for that.

And they hadn’t pulled the knife out right away, either—they’d started with their fists.

Yuuri listens deeper, feels for details that he must’ve missed.

And then he senses it.

Trembling.

Trembling from more than just adrenaline.

“You’re scared,” Yuuri realizes out loud, and hates how breathy his voice sounds, how pathetic. “You don’t have to…”

They leap.

He leaps off the AC unit and to the right, rolls with his back and breaks out into a full sprint towards the other rooftop. It’s only a few meters, but the attacker has the advantage of distance and lack of exhaustion, and they’re on his heels, and—

It grazes his skin.

The scent of copper mingling with oxygen, the taste of it in the air…

But then a yell.

Yuuri pushes himself up with his palms digging into the gravel on the rooftop and turns his head. The attacker falls to the ground and the knife clinks as it lands a few meters away. Shifting towards it, Yuuri ignores the roaring pain in his back that is begging to be noticed.

A third heartbeat.

There’s a third heartbeat on the rooftop.

But before he can contemplate that he wraps his fingers around the hilt of the knife and stumbles to his feet, holding it forward towards the attacker who remains laying on the ground. Breaths heaving, he listens for the third heartbeat, which is rapid, frantic, horrified, on the other edge of the rooftop and slowly backing up farther and farther.

Friend, not foe.

The attacker gets up quickly, and then there’s a standstill.

A triangle.

Yuuri, the attacker, and the third.

Yuuri knows what’s going to happen an instant before it does.

Instead of running at him, the attacker runs at the horrified presence on the roof, and Yuuri chases, knife in his hand. They’re planning on using a hostage. He manages to grab him just in time, but the attacker swings with his left fist, catching him in his bad shoulder once again. Without a choice, Yuuri lurches forward with the knife and catches him deep in the arm. The attacker slumps, yelling in pain, and beneath them, Yuuri hears hasty footsteps.

The police were alerted by the noise.

Leaving the bleeding assailant on the ground, who is live and very much conscious, Yuuri stumbles backwards. His back is bleeding, his shoulder is potentially displaced. He swallows, tries to maintain his balance. The police are coming up the stairs, the police are coming up the stairs and—

“You’re hurt,” a voice says.

Except…

No, no no no…

(The heartbeat remains rapid, but as Yuuri focuses in on it he realizes it was obvious all along, that it belonged to Victor. That Victor had seen the knife and knocked the attacker to the ground, that he must have snuck up when Yuuri was distracted with the fight.)

(That he must have come here to find Yuuri.)

(It was obvious, but Yuuri was distracted, and now…)

Quickly gaining his sense of direction and realizing that the police will be here any second, Yuuri turns towards the closest building. He limps to the edge, considers whether or not he’d be able to make the jump in his current state. The knife wound hadn’t been deep, but his senses allow him to feel every agonizing centimeter of it, every last lit nerve.

Afferent neurons, Yuuri can hear Phichit saying in his head. Damn them.

“I’m fine,” he bites out, careful to keep his voice low.

“The knife hit you,” Victor says, and steps forward. When they’d last met like this, there had been hesitancy, fear. Although it’s still present, it’s lessened by the adrenaline and the fact that there’s a man bleeding on the ground beside them. “You’re bleeding.”

Yuuri doesn’t turn to face him. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects, and takes a step back, readying himself to take the jump.

“The police can help you,” he promises. “I know the police chief. I can talk to him.”

He doesn’t move.

A hand touches his shoulder and he reacts on instinct, turning and grabbing the wrist hard. Victor makes a noise of protest and Yuuri realizes what he’d done instantly, letting go. There’s an apology half-formed on his lips but Victor has already backed up, eyes wide and horrified.

Despite his fear, he scans Yuuri, taking in every detail of his appearance. Yuuri’s mask is only from the nose upwards, so he steps backwards into the darkness. Victor is smart, after all. He doesn’t waste a second, mainly focusing on the limited part of Yuuri’s skin that is exposed. A journalist by nature, Yuuri realizes.

“Or at least come with me,” Victor begs. “I can help you. They don’t know I’m here. I came because I…”

He falters, but they both know why he came here.

Yuuri thinks about the man lying on the ground, still smells the growing presence of blood in the air. He feels sick to his stomach. “That was stupid.”

“I didn’t realize that someone would—”

“You got in the way.” He says, and turns again so that Victor can’t continue looking at his chin. “Don’t look for me again.”

And with that, he jumps.

The landing is rough—his knees hit the concrete and he feels his body protest. But he continues, hearing the excited chatter of the police as they storm the rooftop. He hears Victor’s heartbeat, increasingly distant, and hears his voice as he tries to explain himself to the police chief.

[atowncalledmalec]

That's actually really sweet

A small breakdown of the trailer that we got before 3B started. I wrote this a couple of months ago but still wanted to post it here.

Angst, a glimpse of Magnus' mental health after losing his magic.

Magnus sighed, blinking in the dim light of predawn as he rolled over, after exactly no hours of sleep. He studied Alec's sleeping form in the meager light, listening to the soft snores that emanated from his boyfriend, trying to use the sound to block out the whirling mess in his head.

With another sigh, a deeper one, Magnus rolled back over. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing at his face as if he could wipe all of the loneliness, the hurt and anger and confusion away with the motion.

One last look over his shoulder at Alec's sleeping form had Magnus standing, as graceful as ever, even if his body felt odd, foreign to him.

That will be the loss of your magic dear.

Shying away from that thought, Magnus stumbled into his closet, decidedly not thinking about the fact that he would have to search by hand through rack upon rack of clothes, to find something to wear.

Magnus simply grabbed the first things his hands landed on and snapped his fingers to remove his silk pyjamas before the memories of what he had lost stabbed him in the gut. The wound went deeper than any he had suffered over the centuries he had already endured.

Allowing one solitary tear to fall before pushing it away, Magnus shrugged out of his clothing, forgoing the shower he didn't have the energy to take, and started pulling his chosen outfit on.

Red shirt, black pinstripe slacks, suspenders. You've worn this one before bane!

Who cares, it's just clothes. Alexander doesn't care if I've worn them before.

With that thought running through his head, Magnus gave his appearance a cursory glance in the full length mirror in his closet before wandering out into his bedroom.

With eyes lingering on Alec, watching his Shadowhunter in the vanity mirror, Magnus took a seat and started pulling his war paint out. He swiped a dusting of eyeshadow over each lid before staring critically at his work.

“It's been far too long since you've done this by hand and you look ridiculous,” Magnus muttered to himself, grabbing a wipe and scrubbing it off.

Stars sparkled in his eyes when he emerged from the wipe, having dug into them just that little bit too hard. Blinking helped take his mind off of the fact that he had to wipe it off in the first place.

Magnus grabbed his eyeliner, the one part of his makeup routine that he always did by hand, and pulled his lower lids down, ignoring how bloodshot his eyes looked, to line his eyes before he closed them and ran the pencil through his scrunched lids once more, coating the waterline of his top lids too.

With a final smudge at the excess, Magnus studied his face in the mirror once more. I'll just say that I was going for a new look if anyone asks.

Swiping his hand over his face once more, Magnus’ gaze caught on the chipped polish on his nails. He grabbed the bottle of nail polish remover and swiped it over the leftover fragments of polish on his nails, trying not to think on how closely the fragments resembled his life. Cracked, chipped, faded… lacking.

That thought sapped the last of Magnus’ will to pretty himself up. Leaving his nails polish free, he swung his legs, blinking as he wondered what to do now. He had to keep busy, lest he crumble like the polish that had blemished his nails.

“Breakfast, yes, I'm sure Alexander will need some breakfast after all of the energy he lost during battle.”

The words came softly, softer than his voice usually came out but they were Magnus’ salvation. A purpose. A distraction. A way to make some use of his now useless body.

Without a minute to lose, Magnus strode from the room, walking quickly to the kitchen to cook up a feast.

Of course, he didn't actually know how to use any of the modern contraptions his kitchen was filled with. Of course, he didn't know how to un-magically whip up a breakfast that was fit for a king… or a recovering Shadowhunter. And, of course, there was no actual food in his refrigerator.

The market! The farmers market three blocks away. I'll find something there!

Rushing for the front door, grateful to have something to do, Magnus just about managed to catch the door on its backswing, a split second before it closed, with a thudding heart.

Keys. Phone. Money. Your fucking sanity!

They were all things he had never had to worry about before. A snap of his fingers, a flick of his wrist, hell, one elegant swirl of his fingers was usually all Magnus needed to shop or get in touch with people or to let himself to into his own fucking home!

A stuttering, ragged, torment filled breath ripped from him as he clutched the door frame for support, allowing the moment of weakness when there was nobody to see it. He was unsure of what was worse, the churning of his stomach or the thundering, swirling shit storm, running through his head.

Magnus took one, two, three deep breaths in before he straightened, spine erect, and stomped back into his apartment to snatch his keys and some money up. The image of having to press his buzzer and wait out in the cold for Alec to let him in because he had left his keys went as quickly as it came.

Squaring his shoulders once more, Magnus shoved his things into the pockets of his pants and strode out of the door, head held high as he made his way through the building, riding the elevator in quiet contemplation.

A chill breeze was the first indication to Magnus that he had made it outside. He barely paid attention to the cold wind and the barley rising sun as he started towards the farmers market, running through the list of ingredients in his head.

A momentary smile graced Magnus’ lips as he recalled the one time, just a couple of short weeks ago, when Alec had made his stew, calling the ingredient list his “instructions”. Is that all it is, just a couple of weeks? He wondered to himself, it feels like centuries.

A tiredness washed through him in that moment as every single one of the years that he had existed crept up on him, all at once. They almost had him falling to his knees, the weight of those years too much to bear. Centuries.

I've been alive centuries and in all of that time, I've never faced something of this magnitude, Magnus thought.

Never once had Magnus had to think about those countries dwindling to decades, to a handful of years. His life hd always been endless, inevitable, permanent, his immortality unbending to the passage of time. Those concerns are for mortals, beings with shorter lifespans, right? Not for him. Not for the son of a demon.

His feet started moving again, the harsh wind making him snap his fingers to conjure a jacket before he could catch himself. It would be easy to pull a scowl onto his face. To snarl at the cruelty of his father's demand but his face just went slack as he wandered down the street, not one of the thousand emotions that swirled through him able to find purchase on his face.

Magnus blinked when his legs almost went from beneath him, from the uneven ground he had stumbled on. Looking up as he righted his steps, he found the reason that the ground had changed beneath his feet, maybe not metaphorically, but certainly physically. The edge of the sidewalk.

Magnus turned left and started wandering through the stalls, listening to the calling of vendors, allowing their crass shouts to drown out the thoughts that were parading through his mind on a never ending loop.

There was something soothing about it, about witnessing life going on around him when it felt like his own had come to an end. If these mundanes can exist without magic, then I can too. Right?

A stall that sold breakfast food snagged Magnus' attention, forcing him to focus rather than sink into his own head once more. He ran his fingers over the soft eggshells, thinking of their fragility and relating to them all too easily, silently wondering how many he would need.

Scooping up half a dozen, hoping they would be enough, Magnus held them carefully to his chest, pulling on a tight smile for the woman watching him. He juggled the eggs as he searched through the pastries that were on offer, selecting a couple of the largest croissants and adding them to the pile of precious eggs.

A crate of oranges snagged Magnus’ attention next. Freshly squeezed juice, that will be a nice addition. How many though? Three? Four? There's only two of us.

Picking up two plump oranges, Magnus added them to pile that he was now juggling, cursing his lack of ability to simply snap up a basket to carry them in. That lack of magical skill had him giving up. He smiled at the woman, waiting to serve him, and managed to juggle his haul into her hands.

Barely paying attention to the woman, Magnus scooped his wallet out of his pocket and handed a twenty over, thinking that it should be enough. He felt no shame in admitting to himself that it had been a long while since he had had to worry about something as mundane as paying for croissants and eggs.

Accepting the bag that the lady handed him, and completely missing the expression on her face… not that he would have been able to decipher it if he had, Magnus made his way back to his building, deciding to buy a rose on a whim as he passed a flower stall on his way out of the market.

Magnus meandered back to his building, standing uncertainty outside of the door for a moment before he remembered he would have to dig his keys out. He pulled them from his pocket, staring at the keys and the little fob before he remembered when the mundane had showed him around the apartment.

Magnus held the fob to he small panel above the buttons, starting when the door clicked open. He grabbed the handle and pulled, slightly impressed with the technology that the mundanes had come up with, in place of magic. His mind wandered again when he ducked into the elevator and rode it up to his floor.

Knowing that he would have to actually face Alec at some point, Magnus tried to run through what expressions he would put on his face, already hoping that his voice wouldn't crack when they had to speak.

A tiny part of Magnus’ brain thought of the Shadowhunters part in the loss of his magic. It had been his decision, one he knew that he would make again, in an instant, but it still hurt that he had had to make the decision in the first place, especially in light of the fact that the reason he had lost his magic hadn't been seen since they had discovered Clarys death.

Jace had run away as soon as he had announced the news, leaving him to try and get in touch with Cat to move Alec back to the loft, and to deal with the loss of his magic and Clary all in the same breath.

With straining lungs, as the implications of what that meant rolled through him, Magnus looked around his kitchen, desperately pushing thoughts of Clary's death aside, the questions he had been trying to banish over the last thirty hours surfaced once more. Do I blame him? Do I blame them all?

But Magnus couldn't deal with that now, he had to prepare Alec's breakfast, keep busy, ignore the implications and the consequences of his lost magic. It was the best way, the only way to get through the coming days.

Humming a tune under his breath, because he was fine and it kept his mind busy, Magnus emptied his groceries out onto the kitchen side, forgetting the fact that he couldn't remember getting out of the elevator.

Magnus stared at the croissants, eyeing them as one would eye a confusing puzzle before his gaze slid to the microwave that he had never used. He opened the door and tossed the pastries inside, staring at the control pad as though the instructions would light up and show him the way.

With a shrug, Magnus started pressing buttons, jabbing harder and harder at them until the infernal contraption lit up and the food started turning before he turned his attention to the eggs.

“A simple omelette should suffice,” Magnus muttered, rifling through the cupboards and drawers for a bowl and fork, it was a much more successful endeavour than the microwave. At least I know how to work the hob, even if the damn oven evades me.

Magnus soon had the eggs whipped up and cooking in a frying pan, his eyes glued to the eggs because it was easier to pour all of his attention into ensuring the food didn't burn than it was to let his mind wander.

The pinging of the microwave had Magnus dropping the wooden spoon and dashing towards the machine. He pulled the door open and grabbed hold of the red hot pastries, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he yanked his hand back and blew on it.

Snatching a dishcloth up, Magnus yanked the pastries out and slammed them down on a plate, wishing with everything inside of him that he could portal himself to Paris and pick some fresh, already warm pastries up and offer them to Alec. He even contemplated trying it in his desperation.

But, before he could raise his hand, a crackling sound rang out through the kitchen. That was almost the moment he lost it, turning around to see the eggs on their way to burning.

Dashing across the kitchen before the pan could catch fire, Magnus snatched the pan up off the hob and slammed it down on the countertop before his legs gave way.

Sliding down the side of the cupboard, onto the floor, Magnus crumpled. Knees to his chest, his arms wrapping around them, he raked his hands through his hair as the tears started gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Can't even get through making one breakfast the mundane way. How the fuck am I supposed to make it the rest of the way? How am I going to survive however long I'm allotted now, if I can't even cook a fucking omelette?

Knowing that his breathing was picking up, his stomach somewhere back at the farmers market, back where he had found Alec, filled with arrows and trying to make jokes, back in Edom. Take your pick. Magnus tried to regulate his reactions.

Magnus tried to fight the empty, lonely, powerless feeling that wanted to swamp him every other second, to take him over and drag him down the hole that he was unsure he would be able to climb out of but it felt like a losing battle. It was too much, everything fighting for ground and trying to take precedence at the forefront of his mind.

Magnus didn't want to feel, he wanted to be numb, to fall asleep and wake up to Alec telling him it had all been a nightmare or not wake up at all. He wanted to hide from the world that always demanded too much but never gave back a fraction of what his sacrifices were worth.

But I can't, because I'm Magnus Bane, High War…

Magnus Bane, friend, confident, boyfriend. I'm the one that solves problems, the one everyone turns to, every time. I'm the dependable one, not the man who gets to have a day off from the demands placed upon him.

Scrubbing the tears from his face and taking a deep breath, Magnus stood and looked down at his “creation”. It wasn't horrendous, maybe a dark spot, here and there but it looked edible… perhaps. Sighing a deep breath out, he flipped it onto the plate with the croissants, cutting any dark bits off and turned to his oranges, pushing his self pity to the back of his mind.

“I should have got more,” Magnus muttered to himself, staring at the ridiculously small amount of juice in the glass when he had squeezed the two solitary oranges out. Pursing his lips, he placed it on a tray with the plate, placed the rose in a milk jug and picked it up, taking deep breaths on his way to his bedroom.

The soft snores Alec was making had Magnus’ stomach settling a fraction, a small amount of the weight he was carrying sliding from his shoulders at the adorable sounds. He had spent the night listening to them, unable to sleep, and still he ached to hear more but he needed to keep busy, not wallow.

So carrying the tray towards his vanity, Magnus set it down and pondered the best way to wake Alec. He knew from experience that a gentle shake and soft words wouldn't cut it so he decided the simplest approach was the best and strode over to the curtains.

“Come on, Pup, time rise and face the day,” Magnus said as he shoved the curtains open, a bright shaft of light brightening the room in an instant. There, that's normal, right? He asked himself before turning to find Alec, cringing back from the light.

“Pup?” Alec asked when he was so rudely awoken, trying to cover his eyes from the burning sensation of the sunlight. Is he trying out a nickname?

“Panda?” Magnus asked, wondering if Alec would like that one better.

“No!” Alec said, racking his brain for a cell that was working.

“Okay,” Magnus said quietly, returning to the vanity to collect Alec's breakfast as he fixed his best smile in place. I can do this, I can do normal. For him, for his sake. I. Can. Do. Normal.

Even if it was actually for his own sake.

“Why is it so early?” Alec groaned, rolling into his side to bury his face in the pillows, hoping for more sleep.

The next words out of Magnus’ mouth had Alec sitting up. He tried to adjust to the light and being awake and the way Magnus was moving across the room, his boyfriend's spine semi erect and an easy look on his face. Huh?

“Oh, with everything going on, sleep has been a bit of a struggle,” Magnus allowed himself to share as he returned with Alec's breakfast.

Alec looked up at Magnus properly as he fully sat up, taking his outfit in.

“Why are you dressed?” Alec asked when Magnus slid a tray of food onto the end of the bed..

“Oh, I had to get up early to go to the farmers market before dawn, for the ingredients for our breakfast. Which… admittedly, is less than… perfect. But do you know how many oranges are required to make a glass of juice…?” Magnus asked, picking up the half empty glass.

Alec picked up a croissant inspecting it as Magnus raised the glass and inspected the contents at eye level.

“...More than I bought. I used to have magic to do all of these little errands but, I have to admit, there's a certain… charm to doing things the mundane way,” Magnus said casually, smiling his best smile. He did his best not to notice Alec's expression, ploughing on as though everything was fine.

“Is today a special occasion?” Alec asked, squinting up at Magnus, seeing all of the truths Magnus was attempting to hide behind his smiles and his casual movements.

“Well, today is your day off and I want to make the most of it,” Magnus said softly, sliding the tray closer to Alec with a smile.

Alec's stared at Magnus, his eyes narrowing at his boyfriend's blase attitude as the tray was pushed forward. Magnus still hadn't talked to him, about losing his magic or his trip to Edom. He desperately wanted Magnus to open up, to scream or yell, to rightfully blame him because it was his Parabatai Magnus had saved. To do anything other than what Magnus was doing now, pretending.

But Alec also recognised the defence mechanism, it was one he employed himself. Smile, show the world that it doesn't affect you. Pretend that you aren't falling apart and pray that nobody looks too closely. He understood those reactions all too well and still fell back on them now.

Alec had two options , he could force the issue, force Magnus to talk before he was ready to, while the wounds where still to fresh… or he could let Magnus come round. He could let Magnus come to the conclusion that he was pushing him away, and wait until Magnus had gotten it together in his own head.

“That's actually really sweet,” Alec said with a small smile of his own, trying not to purse his lips. He wanted Magnus to open up but knew it had to be in his own time, at his own pace. And it was sweet, that Magnus wanted to look after him, even if Magnus’ hurt was worse than his own and he didn't really deserve it.

“Uhm, I thought so,” Magnus said with a small shrug and another smile.

Alec leaned in for a kiss, wanting to let Magnus know, even if he didn't say the words, that he was there, ready to listen when Magnus was ready to talk or scream or fight. He almost fell on his face when Magnus broke the kiss that was barely a brush.

Magnus didn't have a choice, he couldn't wrap himself up in Alec and sink into the kiss, couldn't allow Alec to comfort him. He knew that if he held on too long, he would break, he wouldn't be able to hold it all inside and be strong in front of his boyfriend. So he pulled back after a few seconds and scooped the glass of juice up.

“Drink up, time for our morning exercise,” Magnus said, fighting every emotion with a centuries long practiced pretension that he had perfected, pretending that nothing could hurt him. Try as he might though, he couldn't do it. Not with Alec. So he stood, jumping to his feet far too quickly, even to him, and dashed from the room.

Alec accepted the glass and watched Magnus go, his face dropping. He clutched the glass, his resolve almost breaking, almost jumping up and demanding Magnus talk to him.

Alec stood, pacing the floor. He understood, to a certain degree. Not about Magnus losing his magic, he would never understand that, couldn't even begin to imagine it. But he understood what it was to feel vulnerable, to feel weak and out of control in front of those who always saw you as strong.

A thought rolled into Alec's brain as he turned on his heel once more, a way for Magnus to take some control back.

“If Magnus wants exercise, I know exactly how to give it to him.” Alec muttered, throwing some boxers on and following Magnus into the living room.

“Magnus, get your stuff, you're coming training with me,” Alec said, squeezing Magnus’ hand when he saw the red rims of his boyfriend's eyes.

Alec could give Magnus the time he needed to come around and make sure he could protect himself at the same time.

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “Astro B.O.Y.D.!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Ben Siemon, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes

Storyboard by: Sam King, Kathryn Marusik, Rachel Paek, Stephan Park

Directed by: Jason Zurek

涼しい!

This is supposed to be the Huey season, and this time, we finally get an episode focused solely on the red sibling. In fact, the blue and green siblings don't even appear in this episode beyond Huey mentioning "the brothers" one time. We already start off with an issue Huey seems to have: he's so by the book, that at the Junior Woodchuck's celebration of National S'more Day, he has to specifically measure the graham cracker to marshmallow combo.

This overly specific measuring is made fun of by a bully who bares a striking resemblance to one of the Beagle Boys. The credits call him "Bully Beagle", though he doesn't appear long enough to reveal any kind of connection to them besides his looks. He does appear long enough to compare Huey to a robot, as he marvels at his own concoction that features many marshmallows and some donuts stuck between them. Everyone else laughs, because even a Beagle Boy is more relatable than him.

Definitely not speaking of robots, we get to see the return of Boyd, who is definitely a real boy and wants to be friends with Huey. To Huey's delight, he shows his true knowledge by commenting that his S'mores stick is cut perfectly to Woodchuck guidelines, and knows a guideline so well that he's able to speak it at the same time as Huey. It's no wonder that he's an expert with the way of the Junior Woodchucks, saying that he practically has it downloaded to his head!

Relieved to see another boy who follows the Woodchuck guidebook cover to cover, he tells Boyd to ready the fire for some by-the-book s'mores making. With all of those specific denials, even the people who didn't see his debut episode can repeat in their heads, "he's going to shoot lasers, he's going to shoot lasers, he's going to shoot lasers..."

Yup, he shot lasers. Thankfully, Huey has his back turned, claiming that their totally non-robotic and yet rule following selves make them a rare breed. Unfortunately, “rare breed” ended up causing a glitch in Boyd's memory banks, causing him to use his laser eyes in a way Huey couldn’t ignore, causing a fire. In a forest. Smokey Bear wouldn’t be too happy about how much this gets brushed off.

Huey makes it to Gyro's underwater lab, apparently keeping Boyd's eyes closed the entire time, to talk to Dr. Gearloose about that laser eye problem. Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, the intern, tells him that he's a scientist, and he should be able to help...until Boyd opens his eyes and has lasers tear through one of the windows, which Manny the Headless Man-Horse has to lock up with metal doors.

He is at least ready enough to give him red sunglasses that stop the lasers, just like that character that Disney may or may not have the film rights to. Fenton decides to elevate this to Dr. Gearloose, who reveals that he has a connection to Boyd...

...as revealed by him backing away in fear.

Gyro: Manny, get this dangerous machine out of my lab!

Manny: (morses) Which one?

This is an actual second joke from Manny the Headless Man-Horse, even if it should be pretty clear which of the inevitably dangerous machines he's talking about.

Revealing his actual name to be 2BO, Gearloose tells Huey that he was one of his failed experiments. Or, rather, it was one of his failed experiments. Right from his very first interaction, it's clear there's a huge contrast between Gyro Gearloose's relation with what is essentially his own child and Huey's new friendship. The C3PO-like name, and him using pronouns more fitting for objects.

Huey does call out a few things about Gyro's behavior, and one of them is that he's usually saying that the inventions that were actively trying to kill people are just "wildly misunderstood." However, Gyro just knows 2BO is different, and this sudden personality change will be justified later. However, he does seem to have a sort of soft spot for the bad robot, as he offers a fix for that thing's problems. Unfortunately, he needs more fitting equipment than what he has in this lab, and the only place that would have it is the lab of his old mentor...in Japan.

No time for an opening, just the logo in Japanese and that's it. That's right, they're going to Tokyo, Japan, or Tokyolk, Japan. Not sure how to put that in kanji.

As soon as they land in Tokyolk, Gyro immediately gets slammed to a car by Inspector Tezuka. Besides the homage to Astro Boy creator Osamu Tezuka in her name, she's totally supposed to be Inspector Zenigata from Lupin The 3rd. A person who even looks like the titular guy Zenigata was chasing after cameos throughout this episode, but she has far more pressing matters at her hands, like capturing the crook that was making killer robots that destroy cities. As soon as one potential killer robot nearly gets caught, Lil Bulb distracts her with some binary graffiti and itself, and they run off to the lab.

Using GizmoDuck to break through the now abandoned old lab, him showing off he can partially transform with just the word “Blath”, Boyd can't help but say how familiar this place is. The intern just can't help but check out his boss's old stuff, too, putting on his old lab coat and looking at dusty microscopes.

Using the equipment, Gyro hooks Boyd up to a chair. To stop his malfunctioning for good, Gyro has to search through his memory banks to find his core. This means we get to see his past memories from reverse order, Memento style. It's not necessarily Rashomon style, but maybe that's just not how I remembered it.

We get to see Boyd's last two owners. Along with Doofus Drake, who is trying to ruin his mother's pearls, we see Mark Beaks, the guy that was trying to pass off Boyd as his, um . I must say, while it's not surprising that Mark Beaks didn't invent him like he said he did, as that's just his shtick for the last two seasons, it is a wonder that Boyd just happened to look exactly like a young version of him even before Mark Beaks took him in.

However, even an evil crook like Mark Beaks knew that 2BO is a sorry name for a little kid robot, and he was the one that would give him something close to a real name. He also didn't want to even touch him, never mind give him a hug, but he is at least smart enough to not touch garbage. By the way, that line about not touching really aged well, didn't it?

Gyro even reminds us of this contrast, as Huey remarks that Boyd must have had a terrible life living with a creep and a crook. Gyro simply remarks,

Gyro: It doesn't feel anything!

Interesting to have him be in the shadows in that shot, too, as if to show that he's the person with the wrong opinions here. This robot hatred ended up being so blatant, that Lil Bulb shorts out. This ends up distracting Gyro, leading to Fenton to come up with his own plan for Boyd: make him a superhero! It's a good time to do that, as Fenton's GizmoDuck arm notifies him of a robbery. They run off, not noticing that the security cameras happen to be on. Hmm, it is rather curious that this old lab still seems to have working equipment, as if the electricity bill is still getting paid.

As soon as those security cameras are shown, that bill payer is revealed to be Dr. Akita, the mentor of Gyro Gearloose, and the one scientist Gyro himself has interned for. We did see little glimpses of him in Boyd's memory glitch from the opening scene, but this is the first time we get to hear him speak. Anyone can guess he's evil; not only is he staring evilly at his old intern walking into his building, he's revealed to have an anime avatar on his computer. Ooh, the true mark of evil!

We cut to that robbery from earlier, as two pigs are about to be chased by two different cops. Wait, that shouldn't be right. Kind of missing the opportunity for Fenton to shout "thering Blatherskite", but it leads to a cool chase scene nonetheless, with GizmoDuck rolling around, and Boyd using his robotic biking abilities to bike across walls. GizmoDuck ends up capturing one of the bad guys, but the other?

Well, Fenton didn’t really get to the “what to do with the criminal after they get cornered” part, so Boyd politely asks her to take back that money that she obviously must have taken by mistake. Of course, she does not oblige. GizmoDuck does give him a pointer that the standing down should come after the criminal gets dealt with, but Boyd simply doesn’t want to hurt people. Well, so much for that plan.

It's here where Gyro fixes up Lil Bulb, and realizes that Fenton, the kid, and the not-so-kid are gone.

Gyro: IN-TEEEEERN!

Uh oh, Spaghetti-O's! That is kind of a note to Gyro's character, too. He doesn't call his intern by his name, either, and it seems he would use it pronouns for him if he could get away with it.

The next day, while Inspector Tezuka reveals that she caught the other burglar and will give that guy in the robot suit a stern talking to, Boyd would rather enjoy the sights of Tokyolk than go back to the lab again. Oh no, back to the lab again. You messed up, back to the lab again. ...sorry, that song will forever be stuck in my head.

Anyway, it's montage time! Not every scene has a joke about Boyd being "wired a little differently", as Huey put it earlier in the episode, as there are some relatively normal scenes sprinkled with Boyd literally sucking up bowls of Udon like a vacuum cleaner. I do mean literally, and I always mean literally.

It all ends with Huey on the observation area of Tokyolk Tower, remarking that hanging out with him proves that he's not a killer robot. Apparently, that's the best thing anyone has ever said to him, and that's sadly fitting considering his last three owners. As Huey puts his picture in the JWD, the wind blows it away. Huey grabs it, only to lose his footing on the tower, falling from it.

Left with no choice, Boyd had to show off one of his killer robot abilities again, but this time to prevent an accidental killing: his rocket feet! Unfortunately, they run into Gyro Gearloose, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera and Inspector NoFirstName Tezuka, who all now seem to share the same opinion: those rocket feet just mean that his combat systems are active again. Gyro decides to show him the memory he was trying to get to.

He was made to be a robot that defended Tokyolk with his special abilities, like his laser eyes and rocket boots. No word on whether or not he has machine guns in his butt, though. However, much like his future inventions. We learn that this was the first robot that became evil, and ever since, his penchant for making robots continued. This gives his attitude towards his own creation a little more weight.

As an aside, while we get glimpses of his past self, this is the first time I was able to put a screenshot of it. I must say that it's a neat touch that Past Gyro looks like the original Gyro from the comics, and, by extension, the Gyro from the original 1987 cartoon. It goes a bit further than that, actually, and I'm not going to spoil it here.

This scene also reveals that fix was more like a deletion, and that makes Boyd real angry. Well, that, or maybe that anger was artificially caused by this episode's real villain.

No, not Glomgold, though I do wonder where he has been since this season started. Apparently, he's been selling Japanese energy drinks like Schwarzenegger did back in the 90's!

No, it was Dr. Akita, of course, and he has become a total bad guy since the day Boyd destroyed Tokyolk. He was hiding in the shadows, though that's mostly because living underground has given him an aversion to sunlight. I'm a little disappointed that gag doesn't continue after this scene.

This leads to the seemingly once an episode fight scene with a bunch of the characters we know and love and will still love. Specifically, this is GizmoDuck vs. the evil 2BO/Boyd. It is very anime fight scene, but not in the "lol isn't anime so wacky" kind of way. There's even a well animated Macross Missile Massacre, as shown here; they really knew how to do it.

A big reveal happens in the middle of this, and I will admit it's one of those cliche "the one part of the memory that changes absolutely everything that was just ignored for no adequate reason" scenes. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, though, as this is where that "further than that" comes in.

To make it as vague as possible, this basically puts Gyro in the position to learn something in the end of the episode. In fact, this is more of a Gyro episode than a Huey episode. Sure, it's more of a Huey episode than, say, the Mervana one, but it's not like his character changed significantly in the course of this episode. I mean, Huey saw him as a kid since the beginning.

Can Gyro see his creation as a kid and potentially fix that "becoming evil" problem? The conclusion is rather sudden, mostly because they seemingly had to wrap it up in under 3 minutes, but it's still satisfying nonetheless. It changes the status quo even more than one might expect, too, but I already given away enough.

How does it stack up?

It's a great story about a character that may have only really existed just as a gag in one episode, with a great use of anime influences that never become the usual "lol Japan so wacky" stereotypes. No doubt about it, this is a 5 Scrooges episode.

Next, oh boy, another Ragnarok. Can't be any worse than the last time I had to cover one.

← Louie's Eleven! 🦆 The Rumble for Ragnarok! →

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “The Lost Harp of Mervana!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Colleen Evanson

Storyboard by: Vincent Aparo, Kristen Gish, Victoria Harris

Directed by: Tanner Johnson

I am being trustworthy with this one.

In the season opener, Huey managed to find a diary filled with the missing treasures Isabella Finch couldn't find, and with the help of her wisdom, he's going to guide the rest of the family to find each one of them. Scrooge lets the others know that this search for an item in Isabella Finch's journal of lost treasures is specifically Huey's quest. This is supposed to be Huey's season, after all; one was about Dewey's quest to find his mother, two was about Louie's quest for more money, and three is all about Huey trying to follow in the footsteps of Finch; the Uncle Scrooge of even Uncle Scrooge as revealed in that episode. No relation.

This episode specifically has him do a speech on the titular Lost Harp of Mervana, Mervana being a place that was lost to the sea, much like Atlantis. He's doing a really good job at being an adventurer already, as he's even mimicking Scrooge's long-winded monologues, as much as Scrooge doesn't like it when people call them that.

Even Scrooge can’t help himself with his love of long winded explanations of lost items and joins in on the description, giving details about how the people of Mervana were legendary creatures that were half fish and half man, and could walk on land and swim in water. They try to make him look like a crazy old man along with his crazy young nephew, even if this is pretty normal for him. It’s pretty normal for Huey too, to be honest; the only thing unusual is that it’s not the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook he’s reading from.

Webby is far more intrigued by the mere mention of half man, half fish creatures, even if the creature he was holding a picture of didn’t look anything like the kind of creatures Webby was thinking of. She can't wait to see them on this new adventure!

Louie doesn’t exactly have a positive outlook on this adventure, though, as he immediately assumes whatever they find is going to attempt to kill them in some way. Seinfeld always finds a girlfriend he’ll eventually disgust, the Three’s Company will always find a misunderstanding, and Huey Dewey and Louie will eventually end up in some sort of mysterious or historic peril.

Louie even pulls out a running tally of all the times each of them were offered as a sacrifice. Dewey’s especially proud of his record, as his tallies go far below everyone else's. He's the wacky one, and he's going to remain the wacky one throughout this episode. In fact, while some episodes, everyone has a role. The important ones are that Louie is the skeptic who always thinks the worst of the situation, while Webby is the positive thinker who thinks nothing can possibly go wrong. This may be one of the rare moments where Webby is clearly in the wrong, as I can't imagine anything otherwise would lead to a good episode.

Eventually, Webby gets the chance to say the M word that Huey and Scrooge specifically avoided, as a bunch of them swim on by. Even Louie appears to be impressed; it isn’t every day where someone sees a mermaid swim with such grace. While Zeus is more like the original myths, these are indeed Disneyfied mermaids: half duck, half fish, and no willingness to drag people into the ocean to drown them. We already had the Kelpies for that.

Not impressed at all is Della, who decides to activate the torpedoes, because she has ichthyophobia. I am not aware if they ever brought up her hatred of sealife before; it seems like something she would have forgotten after being stranded on a rock that almost definitely doesn’t have them. Those torpedoes aren’t even mentioned again; it’s just a way for them to have a cold open and to reinforce how much Della hates them fishies.

But hey, it's a cold open to the full opening this time. Hooray, I thought we would never see it this season. It's here we find out all the Della scenes are in the shortened version; they didn't bother adding her in any of the other shots. Is it a sign that this is going to be a rarity?

The two introduce themselves as Aletheia and Vero. They’re all about truth, and, as they hint in their introductions, their names even mean truth in Greek and Latin, respectively. They also describe Mervana as a place without suffering, a place where one can find their inner truth, and a place where material belongings can be gotten rid of in the name of peaceful harmony. Scrooge isn’t too happy about any of those aspects, and that’s going to be a theme in this episode.

Not everyone shares Scrooge's lack of enthuiasm, though Louie has good reason to believe otherwise. Meeting all of these mermaids in this cave between the deep blue sea and their destination is basically her dream for Webby, and one of the first lines she says while exploring this new place cements it.

Webby: Look at this stuff! Isn't it neat?

No, not in a sing-songy way, though I'm sure most would read it that way. That reference was almost as blatant as that "rescued" pun from the previous episode.

As they reach Mervana in their quest to make their collection a little more complete, Aletheia decides to tell the visitors the story of how Mervana ended up under the sea, as shown with a stone wall with pictures on it. Generations ago, these mermaids used to spend time equally between the land and the sea, until King Honestus, another mermaid named after a word for truth, decided the troubles of the land were too much for his people. He left to find his own truth, only to never return. According to legend, he became one with the ocean. The mermaids of Mervana continue their quest to find their inner truth in honor of him, in the hopes that one day, he will return. Not sure where becoming “one with the ocean” would mean he could return, but it's the legend they believe in anyway.

Louie expresses his opinion on this story in the most subtle way possible.

Louie: Something’s fishy here.

Surprised that line didn't come sooner, to be honest. Webby tries to convince him that this must be his dream world because everything is free, but he responds that it’s too perfect. Forget all of the trust, he assumes that King is going to come back to eat him, and they don’t know anything about a harp. Mrs. Beakley drowns out Louie with some bongo playing, telling him that the mermaids are harmless. Webby knows this must be proof: there's no way her Granny would ever lie.

Louie offers a different sort of proof: a cave behind a waterfall saying “do not enter.” Of course, they don't obey that; Louie definitely needs to find out if those mermaids are mermurderers, and Webby follows to find out how wrong he must be to come up with such a pun.

There is a B plot here: the rest of the family are going to join in on the truth searching, starting with an arts and crafts session where they make fins that represent their inner truth. Huey tries to convince Scrooge that joining in on that would lead to the mermaids letting out their secrets, including one about that Harp, and he reluctantly agrees. Scrooge tries to do this with the least effort possible, clearly showing how little he wants to participate. It ties in pretty well with the A plot, as people may look for clues for either Louie or Webby's interpretation on what these mermaids are really up to. The truth may lie somewhere in the middle, or maybe it's somewhere completely different.

How are the kids doing on that cave trip? Well, they did hear some mysterious singing that implied that some girl is "fibbing, fibbing, fibbing", which must mean there's something weird and mysterious.

While that may have been something related to the harp, the weird and mysterious something turned out to be a giant fish monster. If one looks closely, they can see that the monster wears a crown, giving some credence to Louie's theory that the king is just going to return to have duck soup, but neither Louie nor Webby can pay attention long enough to notice it.

Thankfully, they're saved by Mrs. Beakley, who managed to go from the bongo corner of Mervana to deep within a cave with a giant monster without them noticing. I'm sure "because she's Mrs. Beakley" is a good enough excuse.

Webby desperately tries to hang on to her belief that the mermaids aren’t people with gills that want to kill, saying that they must be thinking that they’re telling the truth, but they just don’t know. Her 100% positivity clashes with Louie’s 100% negativity, and that’s the crux of the A plot. It may seem like we would have Mrs. Beakley as the mediator, but she tells Webby that this is definitely some sort of mixup and that the mermaids are definitely people to be trusted.

Or, maybe not, as, once she tells Webby to take the lead, she picks up Louie and tells him she doesn't trust the mermaids either, while Louie raises his hands with victory. She says this for reasons she doesn’t really reveal, though it wouldn’t be a stretch if it was similar to Louie’s. Her conflict is that she doesn’t want her granddaughter to know about any of this suspicion, because this would completely ruin her positive attitude. I would assume any unknown danger that she just decided to let her granddaughter deal with by herself would ruin it, but maybe she's just that trusting of her abilities.

While the kids are having a cave story, the fin story is going about what one would expect. Dewey paints Hot Rod flames on his, Huey draws the Junior Woodchuck logo, and Scrooge just has a dollar sign clearly scribbled in a few seconds. He really wants to get to that harp, but until Scrooge can find his true self, the mermaids won't give them the knowledge they seek. The A plot's about Louie and Webby, and the B plot is mostly about Scrooge, and Huey, who was the focus in the intro, is just kind of there for the rest of the episode. In his own season!

There is one thing unexpected: Donald Duck, of all people, managed to find his peaceful soul with his rainbow colored fins and meditative pose, which impresses Aletheia and Vero. While this would be far from his inner truth, this does make sense: as this is a place without suffering, this can certainly change Donald Duck's way of life, who’s life was always followed by his bad luck. If one ever wanted to hear Donald Duck say "namaste," this is their episode.

Dewey wants to use his Hot Rod Fins to let his mother know that fish are totally awesome. Unfortunately, this does not do anything to cure his mother's hatred and/or disgust of fish. Dewey showing off his fin like Homer Simpson showing off his new chainsaw and hockey mask isn’t helping anyone, though we don't get to see her reaction beyond her gagging at the sight of one of her sons with those disgusting fish fins. This C plot honestly doesn’t need much discussion because it doesn’t really heed it. This is not to say it won't converge with the others, but, one will see.

Getting back to a plot that matters, after climbing a bunch of stairs, as Louie complained about the lack of escalators in these ancient place, Louie, Webby, and Mrs. Beakley go to the room that happens to have what they were looking for...

...the Lost Harp of Mervana, who was under a blanket. It is suggested that other people have tried to find out, but couldn't get past that giant monster. The harp is actually part mermaid, part person, part harp, which really makes Webby happy. As a person, she can talk and sing, as it turns out that she was the one who was mysteriously chanting "fibbing, fibbing, fibbing" this whole time. She never gets to play herself, though.

The Harp of Mervana seems to involuntarily sing if someone is "corr-eeeeect" or if they're "fibbing, fibbing, fibbing", and this is shown with her singing "corr-eeeeect" when Louie talks about how those stairs were a mess. There’s a subtle hint already of how this could play out just with that stairs quip; while the stairs were a mess that needed to be repaired, Louie was just saying that because he doesn’t like climbing so many stairs. With this ability to show the truth, Webby can finally prove to her housemate and Granny that there's nothing sinister under the sea.

Of course, the harp tells them that wouldn't be the truth if there was nothing sinister under the sea. They ask what the real story is, and she decides not to tell them. See, since she's a harp, she's going to sing it instead.

We know this is the real story because this is told via flashback rather than via a stone wall. To make a long story short, Mervana sank because he simply decided the sea was way less of a bummer than having to repair what’s on the land. Namely, the decaying tower. This led to the buildings sinking, and the mermaids decided to stay in the sea for the rest of their lives.

This turns out to be a bad thing, because their ability to turn their legs into fins has a horrible side effect if prolonged for too long. This is connected to that monster from earlier. I debated whether I should spoil this plot point, since the monster's design does hint at it to the point where it's kind of obvious with that 4-shot up there, but Louie treats the revelation as a complete surprise, so I'll try to be slightly vague about it. I'm not saying I'm going to hide it well.

Mrs. Beakley tries to comfort her granddaughter, who is starting to lose her positive attitude with all of this knowledge, but having a living lie detector in the room helps about as much as Dewey talking like a maniac in that previous scene. Honestly, even the show forgets about that scene; Dewey just appears in Mervana the next time we get back to it. Anyway, she tries to tell Webby some comforting lies, like...

Mrs. Beakley: I believe there's a little good in everyone...

Harp of Mervana: She's fibbing, fibbing, fibbing!

Mrs. Beakley: I believe people are trying to be good...

Harp of Mervana: She's fibbing, fibbing, fibbing!

Is she saying that everyone having a little good in them is a fib, or that Mrs. Beakley doesn’t actually believe that everyone has a little bit of good in them? Maybe I’m overthinking it, as it is probably the latter, but I do like how it could be the former, too.

But enough granddaughter-grandmother talk about the morality of telling comforting lies, Louie says that they need to get the Harp back to the Mervanans, or they will die. To Louie's dismay, the Harp finds no fib in that claim.

Let's let a short cutback to the C-plot hint towards why that would be, where Della decides that, because she's Della Duck and nothing should stop her so easily. Unfortunately, that crowned monster happened to be swimming nearby, showing that he has escaped the cave. I guess that monster must have known a shortcut past Mervana.

With either interpretation of the harp's claim that Mrs. Beakley was fibbing about people being trustworthy, Mrs. Beakley was lying to her granddaughter. Her positive attitude is gone, and she has to be dragged down by Louie. Mrs. Beakley grabs the harp, and rather easily too, to the surprise of even the harp.

Harp of Mervana: You’re very strong!

Mrs. Beakley: ...correct!

Nice reversal, though I can see that Mrs. Beakley is above mimicking her “corr-eeeect!”

This all leads to a climactic showdown between the monster and Clan McDuck, as the mermaid's spirit is broken merely by the former's presence. That leads to about a minute of moping until Louie convinces them to fight back by "embracing their inner truth". Even he seems to fight back against this by uttering an "ugh" before that line. This also convinces Webby, too; I'm glad that plot is resolved in a relatively decent matter.

There's some pretty neat scenes with this encounter, though I feel like they do skip around a bit. Donald Duck is convinced to drop his relaxation act so he can fight this monster in his usual way, and the next scene has him cowering with the others with no real connection. While I won't say what this monster is, though I can imagine anyone could guess, I will say who deals the final blow to this monster.

...Della, who suddenly decided to get out of the submarine and swim all the way to this beach! See, those scenes where she had a fear of fish had a point after all: it's to show that she can get over her fear of fish. Not sure if I could say she got over her hatred; she is delighted with kicking this monster she knew nothing about.

Of course, there's more to it than that, but I got to leave something out. Watch the episode to find out, but I will say it is a satisfying ending.

How does it stack up?

The episode itself does have some interesting twists and turns, but I wouldn't say it's among the series' best. All in all, it's pretty good. I'll give this one a 4.

Next, Louie's about to start a scheme. Oh, and Daisy Duck’s there, too.

← Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice! 🦆 Louie's Eleven! →