#notice how nearly every woman who agreed with me also agreed that the current animal ag industry is the problem

[watermelinoe]

and see how dialogue isn't possible when you block someone who doesn't even disagree with your movement, just with certain premises behind it? see how it doesn't allow for practicing harm reduction or nuance? when i'm struggling to get myself to eat anything at all, which can last for days or weeks at a time, what i do eat needs to count. sorry, i'm eating the cheese stick because it's the only thing that sounds palatable and it gives me seven grams of protein. sorry there's no room for women with eating disorders and deficiencies because "eat less animal products" isn't good enough when your ideology values non-human animals more than women's health. but of course the burden falls on women to make ourselves tired and weak while the male-led industry overproduces and overconsumes. at least you stayed true to your logically inconsistent, female-socialized emotion-based beliefs and allowed for zero compromise! there's no way your airtight ethical philosophy has blatant logical flaws at the slightest nudge of critical thought, the people who point out fallacies are just heartless!

[alittlebitmaybe]

i’ll stay warm

for @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo​!

Prompt: ice skating

Relationship: Geraskier

Rating: G (with very mild language and a tiny bit of blood)

Warnings: None

Other Tags: Fluff, Companionable Snark, Already Dating But Too Dumb To Notice, First Kiss

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Read more on ao3 or below the cut!

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Geralt says, “Why?”

“Because Priscilla asked me along, and it’s good fun, and you can do all sorts of loop-de-loops and swirlies and spinnies and whozits and, uh, whatzits. I dunno, Pris knows all the tricks, I never got the hang of it. But, Geralt, people have been doing this in Oxenfurt for years. It’s the only way fashionable and exciting persons such as I pass the winter these days, gliding as an angel over the ice, cheeks chapped fetchingly pink, you know, it’s all very attractive, one may say winsome—”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in the small chair and tucks his shoulders in. He takes up too much space in Jaskier’s quarters, and already he rues the day he agreed, in a fit of insanity, to pass the season in the city instead of trekking up to Kaer Morhen as usual. “You’re going to die.”

Jaskier hacks a laugh into his steaming mug and nearly spills tea all down his robed front.

“Nonsense!” he cries, once he has recovered himself. “We go every year once the freeze is hard enough, me and Pris and all my many other dazzling friends, which I absolutely have.”

“And if Priscilla told you it was fashionably good fun to walk yourself off a cliff…”

“I’d do it, obviously,” says Jaskier, not missing a beat. “Haven’t you ever had to cross a frozen river on your travels, Witcher? How’d you go about it then, if not on skates?”

Geralt levels him an incredulous look. “How would I get a horse across a frozen river?” he asks, and Jaskier frowns in thought as he takes another sip.

“I mean, you could just—,” he mimes pushing outward with one palm, “—give ‘er a good shove and see how far she gets.”

“Could give you a good shove. Bet you wouldn’t make it far.”

“I’ll have you know, I have the grace of a, a, er…elk? Are elk graceful?”

Geralt nods and says seriously, “Especially the newborns.”

“There you have it. Graceful as a tiny baby elk with those on my feet, I am.”

“Maybe you should wear them all the time.”

“What good would that…” he starts, and then comes, “Hey. Rude. Remind me why I wanted you here?”

Geralt grins and shrugs. His own mug is on the small table, and he sniffs the steam coming off of it. Floral. He takes a sip. Carefully does not spit it back out. Sets the mug back down farther away.

When he has successfully resisted the urge to spit on the floor to clear out his mouth and looks back up, Jaskier is still holding his own mug gently in the curl of his long fingers, and a lock of rumpled hair has fallen into his eyes. His robe hangs open at his collarbone, down the line of his chest. He wears a strange expression that lies between the exasperation Geralt expected and something startlingly softer.

“So you’ll come with us,” he states.

“Someone has to take your body back to your mother when you break your neck,” Geralt says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You jest, but Mum would be thrilled to see you. Likes you better than me, I think. Her only son! But you’ll come, eh?”

Geralt ducks his head quickly to hide the smile creeping across his face, grabbing his boots and yanking at the laces before acquiescing, “Yeah, I’ll come.”

“There now,” Jaskier says, appeased, “that wasn’t so hard, was it.” He knocks back the dregs of his tea, then stands and pads to the sink, talking on. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t let you stay cooped up in here all winter. I’ll have to see if I can dig out my spare pair of skates, they’re older—animal bone, not iron—but they might be big enough for your witcher feet, and it really works just as well. Or maybe Pris knows someone…I even heard they’re renting the things out down at the river now. Industrious, isn’t it, the ways people come up with to make some coin?…”

Geralt half-listens as he ties neat knots, lost somewhere in the midst of mulling over what Jaskier has described, trying to give it the benefit of the doubt despite its obvious frivolity. Based on the day’s weather it will be a clear night with a brisk breeze, a bright moon. The wind chill will have them each bundled up in furs, and the tip of Jaskier’s nose will go pink as he rubs his gloved hands together for warmth and glances happily over at Geralt. The river ice will be torchlit and smooth as glass, and they’ll strap on their skates and step out onto it. They’ll have a good hold on each others arms, for balance, but then as they gain their footing they’ll find their fingers threaded together and neither will let go. Geralt will listen to the quickened beat of Jaskier’s heart as they pick up the pace, and eventually Jaskier will break their hold to skate backward and taunt Geralt with a small twirl that ends only a little unsteadily. Geralt will smirk and give chase, chuckling when Jaskier squawks and takes off at speed. It’s no use, of course, even with Geralt’s inexperience; Geralt will anticipate his movements, head him off, catch him by the wrist, by the shoulder, and they will collide chest to chest with a huff, the momentum from the chase sliding them a few more feet across the ice before they come to a halt. Their cold noses will almost be touching, there will be frost on the riverbank, there will be a distant owl hooting its nighttime song. Jaskier will quirk his lips and say, “Gotcha, Witcher,” and Geralt will lean in, feel his hot breath, press their lips together—

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, tapping him on the shoulder. A hand waves in front of his face. Geralt keeps his expression carefully neutral as he comes out of his sudden reverie, though he’s been caught red handed. “Are you meditating? We’ve got to be off to the market. Have you even been listening to me?”

“Never,” says Geralt, and Jaskier scoffs and whacks him gently upside the head.

*

The riverbank smells like dead fish.

Geralt knew this. He doesn’t know what he expected. He doesn’t know where the pine-scented idyllic winter wonderland from his earlier distraction even came from, because it couldn’t be farther from reality.

Besides the fish stink, his boots squish and stick unpleasantly in the muddy ground, and the place is teeming with cityfolk, the crowd so thick that you can’t see the opposite bank even despite the abundant torchlight.

“Are you sure it’s frozen solid enough for this?” Geralt asks sourly.

“Of course,” Jaskier replies.

Geralt’s frown deepens. “Couldn’t we go around the bend where there’s not so many people?”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

“Breathing room.”

“I asked about the fun, Geralt. Ah, there’s my girl!”

Priscilla pushes through a group of loitering teenagers and throws her arms around Jaskier’s neck, only her toes left on the mud. “Jask! I see you got your…friend to join us.”

She pauses before friend, eyeing him overtly, but Geralt doesn’t notice because one of the teenagers has been shoved, giggling, into him by another of the group. He steadies her, and does not react when she turns to apologize, catches his unnatural gaze, and stifles her laughter. He doesn’t see Jaskier watching him past Priscilla’s ear, the fond crinkling around his eyes when Geralt gently straightens her and returns her to her place in the circle, which subsequently puts a few feet between itself and the newly-noticed witcher.

“It was either this or die of boredom in the dark, wasn’t it, Geralt?” Jaskier says finally as he releases Priscilla.

“I chose the dark,” Geralt lies, and Jaskier sticks out his tongue.

“Well,” Priscilla says, straightening her skirts, “shall we?”

Geralt pulls both sets of skates from his deep cloak pockets and passes the iron pair to Jaskier, who hops around indelicately while securing them over his boots, rather than plop himself on the soft ground—which is, of course, what Geralt does to put on his own. Priscilla and Jaskier waste a few minutes on a tiff over whether it is polite or belittling for Jaskier to insist on helping her with her own skates whether she wants it or not, but eventually they are all ready to go.

Geralt is the first to the ice. He tests the toe of his bone skate against it, judging the friction of it, deciding if it is likely to hold his weight even with the evidence of the dozens of people currently gliding and spinning past him. It seems stable. Stepping out, he finds it surprisingly easy to get a feel for balance, the minute shifts of weight that send him one direction or the other. He swings himself wide and turns around to see Priscilla and Jaskier also stepping out onto the river, Jaskier clutching tightly to Priscilla’s sleeve, face white and eyes trained on his feet.

“It’s okay, darling, you’ve got this. You made such good progress last time, come on now,” Geralt can hear Priscilla murmuring under the loud chatter of nearby skaters.

When Jaskier sees Geralt watching them, he bodily removes Priscilla’s hands from his person and says, “Please, Pris, I’m a capable man.”

She bristles immediately, leaving him to stand on his own. “And I wasn’t a capable woman when I was putting on my skates?”

Jaskier ignores her to begin shuffling awkwardly across the ice, his knees locked straight.

“Jaskier?” Geralt says apprehensively.

“Doing peachy, thanks, it’ll come back to me, just need to recall how to, um—oh no—” Jaskier starts with a strained voice before he promptly stops, because he has begun to slide inexorably forward. Priscilla and Geralt both reach toward him, but they’re too late; Jaskier’s arms wheel wildly, he tilts on wobbly ankles, and he faceplants onto the ice.

“Ow,” squeaks the Jaskier-shaped lump.

*

“I think your nose is broken,” says Geralt. He dabs at the blood on Jaskier’s top lip with the edge of his own cloak. They are safely back on the bank, and Jaskier is, this time, sitting in the mud. “I guess you were right,” he goes on wryly. “You’re exactly as graceful as a baby elk.”

“I knew you were making fun of me,” Jaskier says thickly, due to the nose injury. “I also knew you’d be a natural. Bastard. I could never get the hang of this stupid bullshit.”

Geralt hums and wipes off the last of the blood. At least it’s clotted quickly. Maybe it’s not a break.

“You didn’t need to lie about your abilities. Who are you trying to impress?”

Jaskier snorts, then winces in pain. His fingers twist in his lap. “Oh, that’s funny.”

Now, Geralt is often joking, but he’s fairly certain that that wasn’t one. Did Jaskier also hit his head? He pushes back Jaskier’s fringe to check his forehead for signs of bruising and doesn’t find any. “Um,” he says, “what is?”

Priscilla skates past holding hands with a woman that Geralt thinks she met approximately three minutes ago. She calls, “All right, Jask?” and in reply, Jaskier gives her a bitter thumbs up. She winks and swoops away as quickly as she came.

“Because I was trying to impress you, obviously,” he answers, gazing after her, before he turns his eyes back to Geralt.

Geralt pauses. “Why?”

“Because I’m actually always trying to impress you. And everyone else, constantly, but…mostly you.”

“You don’t do a very good job of it,” he says, and regrets it when he hears how it sounds coming out of his mouth.

Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine, if a little wistful, like Geralt has amused but not surprised him. “I am well aware, thanks.”

He reaches for the words that will take that edge of resignation off Jaskier’s face, feeling like a fumbling fool. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you don’t need to try to impress me.”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help—”

“No,” Geralt interrupts, “I mean you don’t need to try because you do.” He clears his throat. “Impress me.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier, and then nothing more. “That’s. Okay.”

“Yeah,” says Geralt. He has never been so exposed in his life. He thinks that’s probably a bad thing. “How’s your nose? We could try again, if you want.”

Jaskier looks around at the laughing crowds and shrugs. “Came all this way, got all bundled up. Might as well! I’m sticking with you this time, though.”

They find a spot at the farthest reach of the torchlight where the ice is less populated to step out. Geralt goes first, as before, and finds his footing even faster this time. He returns to Jaskier’s side after a moment of testing the reliability of his newfound skills, and presents his forearm as a handhold.  Jaskier does not protest about his capability this time and takes the offering. With a long preparatory exhale, he puts one foot and then the other onto the ice.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt says quietly.

Jaskier replies, “I know you do.”

“Can’t let more harm come to the money maker. I’ve gotten used to staying in inns.”

“Good gods,” says Jaskier, “I’ve broken him.”

They gradually move farther from the bank. “Loosen up,” Geralt tells him. “Don’t lock your knees. It’s like you’re trying to fall over.”

Jaskier grumbles but takes the advice, and eventually he gains the confidence to move a little faster, though not to stop hanging on to Geralt. They stay on the fringes where they are less likely to be run into by a distracted stranger, gliding along at pace, with Jaskier remarking on the who’s-who of Oxenfurt society who are also out tonight. Geralt recognizes some of the more powerful names, but mostly he lets Jaskier chatter on so he doesn’t think too hard about his feet.

Priscilla passes by and greets them a few more times with her new companion, who at one point proclaims, “You two are so cute together!” before Priscilla drags her back into the mob. Geralt glances over and thinks Jaskier might be blushing, but that might also be due to the swelling around his nose.

“Should ice your face,” says Geralt.

“Sure, later. Hey!” He swings around to face Geralt, stopping their progress. “Spin me!” At Geralt’s no doubt dubious expression, he pouts. “Geralt, I demand to be spun. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine,” Geralt sighs.

He takes Jaskier’s hand, and has a flash of his daydream. There’s too many people, and it does still smell like fish, but this isn’t too far off—

He collects himself, holds their joined hands over Jaskier’s head, and gives him a little push to start him spinning, not too quick, but Jaskier takes it upon himself to propel himself a little faster. Jaskier laughs and maintains his balance remarkably well, until he exclaims “Oops—dizzy—!” and topples directly into Geralt, succeeding in knocking them both down, Geralt on his own back, Jaskier flat on his chest.

Geralt, trapped between the frigid ice and Jaskier’s weight, looks up as Jaskier starts to laugh. The steam of his breath hits Geralt’s cheek, and his knitted hat has gone askew, and his nose is turning purple, and Geralt puts his hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck and pulls him down and kisses him.

Jaskier leans away. “What?” he asks, eyes wide, then continues, “oh, who cares,” and leans back down.

*

Later, with an ice pack pressed to Jaskier’s face and two more hot mugs at the kitchen table, Geralt watches Jaskier rummage through his cupboards. He comes back with two packets, one matching the floral tea from earlier and a different one. He hands the latter to Geralt.

“Black tea,” he says, “for you. Noticed you didn’t like my herbal stuff. I don’t either, to be honest, but I already spent the coin on it.”

“Thanks,” Geralt replies, oddly touched.

As Jaskier passes Geralt to take his seat, he leans down and pecks him on the cheek. Smiling faintly beneath the ice pack, he says, “You know, Witcher, I’m glad you’re here and not up in some weird lonely castle,” and Geralt finds that he is, too.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 152

I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it...

Okay, maybe I am. I managed to queue up the chapters I had in the barrel! Yay!! Which also means that I have a super duper exciting chapter coming up, which I can’t wait to write and can’t wait for y’all to read. I just need it to be perfect.

That said, thank you to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog for your help with this particular chapter.  I love when we are all three in one of these sessions and just descending into chaos in the chat. Also, @mamayoda (who I can’t tag but I do want you to know I see your likes in my notes!) for love-bombing my notes recently.

“Is it just me or is everyone really jumpy?” Charly asked as I set my food down across from her.  It was our thrice-weekly lunch dates in one of the public mess halls, and she definitely had a point.  I had already noticed three people scowl distrustfully at the food consoles, hugging closely to the prepared food side of the room instead.

I sighed. “It has to have been Derek’s stress test.  It wasn’t supposed to impact systems we didn’t design, but…”

She snorted loudly. “Tell that to the week I spent taking cold showers again.  At least this time, the doors didn’t play any music when I walked through them.”

“Did your doors at least open consistently? I was stuck in my quarters for a whole day until we figured out that I could walk through if I had an escort.”  I laughed and shook my head before digging in to my food. “And, come to find out, we actually do manage the water systems, thanks to BioLab 2.”

Contrary to myself, Charly was entirely unperturbed at this revelation beyond sniffing her hoodie and shrugging. “My doors worked fine as far as I know, but Coffey and I tend to work the same hours, so… Maybe that was it.  Oo!” Her cheer of enthusiasm caught me off guard as she started bouncing in her seat. “OOOOO! I bet he activated the routine Xiomara had running when you and Jokul weren’t friends yet!”

“There was a routine!?” I asked, exasperated. “I behaved, thank you. It wasn’t necessary.”

“Meh. Just in case. What do you think her deal is?” She tilted her head to the side, at a table near us.

Sure enough, the woman at that table was darting glances around the room, her shoulders hunched, elbows close to her body, eyes wide.  I could practically feel her shaking from where I was. “I can’t tell if she looks suspicious or afraid,” I murmured, hoping the woman couldn’t hear me. “But the fact that I’ve met mice and chihuahuas who shook less, I’m going to go with afraid.”

As I watched the woman, weighing whether or not a stranger trying to comfort her would make it better or worse, Mona’s familiar face approached her instead.  She was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t make out words, but the woman clearly recognized her and only jumped slightly.

I was so focused on the sight of Mona comforting the woman that I nearly hit the ceiling when Parvati’s voice came from entirely too close to my right shoulder. “Rebecca.  She lost her family twice, first her parents, some cousins, and an uncle when the hack happened, and then her partner and children in the After.  It’s understandable that she’s terrified right now, after the stress test. Too many bad memories.”

My face flushed in humiliation. “Pranav and Zach sent a ship-wide alert that the stress test was happening - “

A perfectly manicured hand clapped over my mouth, one dark eyebrow arched in eloquent disbelief. “Sophia. You of all people know that mental scars do not heed logic.”

Charly’s hair flew around her face as she nodded enthusiastically. “After day three of cold showers, I flinched every time I went through a door in case that stupid song started playing again, no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was a stress test and I had decidedly not given Derek boba tea again.”

Both my hands flew up in surrender. “I stand corrected, I just feel awful to see people react like that.” Gazing around the room, I was suddenly much more aware of all the darting eyes, protective postures, seats turned so that backs were against walls.

Charly had obviously seen the same thing. “We may need to talk to Pranav about limiting the tests to one or two systems at a time.”

“I wish we could,” I admitted, stabbing a potato out of my pie slightly harder than necessary. “His department was passing the tests with flying colors when Derek was limited to one or two systems at a time.  But they failed this last test miserably, it turns out.  As soon as they would react to one thing, Derek would switch to another system, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once as well as they convinced themselves that they could.  And they can’t just be good at small scale attacks: the revolt that happened before the End brought everything down at once, from multiple access points. It was… kind of elegant, in a terrible way.  Very clean.”

Charly squinted at me and Parvati in suspicion. “Are you supposed to know that they crashed and burned in the test.”

I rocked my hand back and forth while I chewed on a mouthful of crust.  It had way too much butter in it, but at least it was actually crust this time. A week ago it had been something pretty close to paper mache. “Technically we don’t officially know that.  Officially, all we know is that Pranav has requisitioned enough additional staff to increase his team of programmers by seventy percent.”

“Asses handed to them, got it,” Charly nodded in understanding.

“We also officially know that Pranav currently owes Hannah quite the enormous favor,” Parvati confided.

“How big?” Charly ventured slowly.

“Big enough that his grandchildren may be indebted to hers,” came the laughing response.

Charly shook her head and clucked her tongue. “He should know better than to bet against Derek.  He breaks the systems for fun, and they asked him to really go for it. What did they expect?”

“Apparently to put up a better fight at least.” I forced a smile, but guilt weighed on my heart as I studied the room again, fully seeing the microexpressions of anxiety, fear, and anger.  It felt like the entire Ark was constantly swinging between hope and fear. The random drills weren’t really helping, either.

“They aren’t,” Parvati agreed, letting me know that I had been thinking out loud. “Everyone is sleep deprived, on high alert, and then all of a sudden all the computer systems went on the fritz for a week.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pushing what was left of my pot pie away from me, appetite gone. “We need to talk to Grey and Antoine about getting counselling for everyone, seeing as how Xiomara and Pranav pretty much just triggered the entire ship. I mean, everyone knows counselling is available, but I think allocating training and resources to the therapy teams is going to take priority over Pranav’s request for the moment.”

Charly tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do we have the space for some quiet rooms, like you set up for the Food Festival a few years back? That may be a good idea.”

Snapping into work-mode, Parvati flicked her datapad open, bangles clattering as she started making notes. “The quarters left by those who relocated closer to the Archives are still uninhabited, those can be used.  We may be able to convince some people to relocate so we can spread the rooms out more evenly, but even if we can’t, just having those rooms available will help.”

“Make a note to add in the proposal for Grey: possibility of having specific vendors permitted to serve food in BioLab 2.  Encourage mental health days and picnics.”

Parvati nodded in acknowledgement of my request, before adding her own spin. “As a contingency plan, find vendors who will pre-package picnics.  Between the current distrust of the consoles and the fact it will remind everyone of the annual Festival, the good emotions will help.”

“I like it,” I confirmed. “What else?”

“Paintball tag day in the corridors,” Charly announced, without preamble or warning. “Make it a holiday, everyone is off work, limit it to one end of the Ark.”

I shook my head. “Guns, not the best idea.”

“Ew, no. No pew-pew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking more paint-soaked splash bombs.”

Finger guns deployed, dual wielding. “I am so here for a paintball tag day in that case.  The flavored paint?”

“Not the scotch bonnet please,” Parvati begged. “I just know someone will get that in the face, I don’t care how much Else likes it.”

“Got it, no more pepper spraying people,” Charly agreed seriously. “OOO! I could test the new arrows out!  With something like buttered popcorn paint, obviously. Maybe kiwi on the other team.”

“Just limit the pull on the bows, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Fiiiiine…”

Parvati smiled and added to her notes. “So, we probably want someone to correlate the current date to whatever the date would be on Earth… Just in case we need to get a consultant for Holi.”

“Good point. Conor is alarmingly good at that, so I can ask him.  It would be a nice cultural event if we could do that. If not, we can totally work on celebrating Holi when it comes around.”

“Final suggestion for right now, because I have to get back to work,” I sighed happily. “This is going to be the biggest ask, and the smallest at the same time…” Both nodded at me to continue. “Care packages, for everyone. And I mean everyone on the Ark.”

“Sophia,” Parvati scolded me. “That’s almost ten thousand people and sixteen animal companions.”

“Well aware,” I forged on, “We’ll talk to Sam about the bows, I can wrap them. Commission some of those really nice chocolates, or maybe some taffy from Simon. And something salty.  I know there is someone on the Ark who makes aromatherapy candles, Tyche is bananas about them.”

Shaking her head, she added it to the list. “If you insist on that, I insist on a celebration for the drop out of FTL.  Hannah and I can use some of the plans from the Food Festival, include Charly’s paint tag - “

“And Kink Night!”

“- and Kink Night, apparently… have several events going on across the Ark, since we already discussed declaring a holiday.”

“Get Bash’s permission to use the Undine again, and I won’t object,” I surrendered before standing. “On that note, I really do have to get back to work.  Come on, Vati, we have work to do apparently.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[seriouslyhooked]

Honeymoon Fades (A CS Fic)

CS oneshot that provides a snippet into their married life after 30 years together. Includes fluff, feels, and cuteness. Short, sweet, and the perfect weekend treat. Find on FF here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! This is a short drabble based on the song ‘Honeymon Fades’ by Sabrina Carpenter. This story picks up on Emma and Killian when they’re children are all grown and they’ve been together nearly 30 years. Spoiler alert – the cuteness perseveres after all their years together, and in some ways they’re like honeymooners, still as in love and happy as they were just post-wedding. Hope you enjoy the cuteness and thanks so much for reading!

The silence in this house was still a foreign thing to Emma. After so many years of raising her family, and decades of craziness that she wouldn’t trade for anything, quiet moments still felt like a real commodity. They used to be so few and far between, and every time they found them, she and Killian made use of them. They lived a life of constant motion, and they were always go-go-go, but it kept things fresh and interesting. They were never lacking for love and excitement around here, at least they never used to be.

Now, however, things were different. Take this morning for example. It was 9:00 and she was only just rolling out of bed. She was off today from the station, where she was beginning to take a number of steps back. Her brother Neal had been working with her and her Dad for years, deciding he wanted to join the family business, and he was now the newly elected town sheriff. Emma still worked at the station and ran point on many aspects of Storybrooke’s response team, but even with that, there was never enough to do. She ‘worked’ from 9-5 Monday to Friday, mostly just conferring with the townspeople on what needs they had and what the town could do for them. And then the weekends she had off, totally free, never any hiccups. Just two whole days of… well, whatever the hell she wanted.

Despite the fact that this free-weekend thing was normal (it had been about a year since she agreed to the schedule shift), she was still awed by the premise. When the kids were still home, nearly every moment that she wasn’t working was dedicated to them, to their games, and plays and homework and lives. But now their nest was empty. The kids all had their own worlds and agendas, and weekends were becoming a time when Emma and Killian could genuinely relax.

This morning was the perfect example. After waking up bright and early in her husband’s arms, and after their heated exchange of what Killian always called ‘good morning pleasantries’ (code for sex that had no right to be that hot after how long they’d been together), Emma had fallen back asleep while Killian rested only briefly before heading out to go for a sail or run some errand or another. No matter how much quiet they had, her husband was still an early riser. No amount of downtime would change that. But for Emma a lazy morning was a luxury, one that she soaked in and cherished after years of never having them.

As she showered and got dressed, Emma found herself smiling, knowing that she was a lucky woman in every possible way. She was blessed with healthy kids, a network of supportive friends and family, and a true love who was always in her corner. The sun was shining in Storybrooke, and the summer heat was already beginning to climb. She had a whole host of possible paths to wander today. She could go for a hike, or tend to the garden out back. She could drive up the coast and explore the world beyond, or she could take it easy and relax, luxuriating in this happy, stress-free moment that they currently had going. But whatever she did, Emma knew she’d have company for the ride.

Moving downstairs Emma caught the scent of bacon and coffee in the air, she closed her eyes and hummed out a sound of contentment. Spoiled – that was what she was, and as she walked into the kitchen and saw Killian flipping some blueberry pancakes she leaned against the doorway and bit her lip. Damn, nearly thirty years together, and he was still too hot to handle. Standing there, making her breakfast with that mix of salt and pepper in his hair, her pirate was still fit and ready for whatever fight might come their way. There were more laugh lines etched upon his skin, and he might move just a touch slower than he did back in the early days, but the light in his blue eyes that sparked when he caught sight of her still pierced down to her soul, and the sexy grin of his made her heart skip a beat.

“Finally, the lady wakens,” he joked and Emma shook her head and smiled as she kissed him quickly and then moved around him to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Sounds like someone missed me.”

“You know how I feel about being away from you, Swan.” The growl in his voice sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine. Damn this man and his sexiness. Thirty years wasn’t enough to get used to him, and some days she still felt like a honeymooner as opposed to a couple long settled and established.

“You’re not a fan as I recall,” she teased and she let out a yelp when he swatted at her ass with the hard metal of his hook. She blushed in spite of herself, thinking of all the times that particular appendage had made itself known before. She could tell from his deep chuckle that he read her like a book, and she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Any thoughts on what we should do today, Captain?”

“Whatever my wife wishes, I reckon,” he quipped as he placed their plates on the kitchen counter and he held out her chair, tucking her in like a true gentleman before taking his own seat. They discussed the possibilities as they ate, and he caught her up on some friendly neighborhood gossip that he’d heard down at the market, but when their meal was done and they moved to clear the dishes, Emma noticed a little sadness in Killian’s eyes. Immediately she knew the reason for it.

“You miss the kids, don’t you?”

“Aye, love. How could you tell?”

Emma didn’t have the heart to tell her pirate that his expression was totally transparent. Instead she came to cuddle with him, her arms encircling him as he did the same. This was her favorite spot, tucked in her with her true love. It was always her safest space and the place she felt like things would always be okay. Now though it was Killian who needed that anchor, and she was more than willing to give it to him.

“Because I miss them too,” Emma confessed, knowing it was silly. She saw all of her children nearly every day, and they were all in constant contact. Still it wasn’t the same, and time, as beautiful a gift as it was, was also all too fleeting. Years moved by so quickly, and some days it felt like she blinked and that whole chapter of their lives had flown by.

“It feels like only yesterday the whole house was filled with Hope, Liam and Leia running about, and with Henry coming home any chance he got. Remember the morning we found the little ones all in the mud out back?”

“Which time?” Emma asked, laughing even as she shook in horror.

The sight of them that day was so damn funny – covered and filthy and dripping in liquid dirt. But it had also been a logistical nightmare. They tracked the stuff everywhere, ruining the couch and a carpet, and the magic each kid was capable had created some kind of spell where all the stains were permanent. It was maddening but also so freaking funny, and of course, Killian had been a superhero, wrangling all three of them back outside to get cleaned off on the back porch. In less than a day he’d had the couch and carpet replaced, consulting Regina about the rest of the mess, all while Emma was on a shift at the station, and her cheeks flushed at the memory of the night they shared together when he got home. There were thousands of nights like that in the long arc of their marriage, but that one stuck out. She was especially grateful for everything he did for her and their family, and they’d made some truly lasting memories as a result.

“Or the Halloween they started the prank war with your siblings?”

“Oh my God,” Emma groaned remembering. Her kids at that point were so beyond toilet papering and throwing eggs. They had the benefit of understanding their true love magic to a certain degree and they’d made use of it. She and Regina had spent days unmaking the mess, and the town was still a little whacked out energy wise until after Christmas.

“How about the day Leia decided she wanted to be a vet?” Killian said, laughing straight out this time.

“She brought home six cats, four bunnies, and three dogs. I still never figured out where she found them all.”

Okay that wasn’t exactly true. Leia made a ‘wish’ that she could give all the homeless pets a home, and her magic had crafted its own attempt at a spell. As a result, all of the strays in a ten-mile radius arrived at their house, all of them charmed by her daughter, and cute even if they were most of them worse for wear.

“To be fair she was only trying to help them all. And she had a plan, didn’t she? A special room or space for every last one of them.”

“She was fourteen at that point. She knew there was no way we could keep them all, even if Hope was away at school and Liam was on his way to college soon too.”

“Perhaps, but we kept more than a few.”

Emma nodded, thinking of their two dogs and two cats. The other animals had all found homes either with her parents, Henry, or Belle. Even at the time she’d found it endearing, and look at where they were now. Leia was away at her last year of college, and she’d been accepted early to the university’s veterinary program. Even if that one day was madness, Emma knew it was the beginning of a real vocation, which she wanted each of her children to feel.

“You know what I think will help?” she asked, circling back around to how much they missed their family.

“Rum?” Killian asked, though he was kidding. He’d cut back considerably as time went on, but he loved pretending rum was still the answer to all things. Always with the jokes, this man.

“Maybe a little. I was thinking you, me, and maybe a bit of sailing?”

“You had me at you and me, love.”

Emma laughed at his attempt to blend a movie quote from long long ago into their conversation. Despite his being here for so many years, Killian still delivered anything having to do with pop culture like he was fresh from the Enchanted Forest. It made for many a funny moment, and this was no exception. The humor of it was only compounded by how quickly he sprung into action. No sooner had she spoken then idea than he was moving about, grabbing things they might need, and packing them a picnic lunch for them to enjoy hours from now when they were out on the water.  For a moment she watched him, delighting in how adamant he was to spend time with her and get to go make some brand new memories, but before he could get too carried away, she pulled him into her, clutching at his shirt and smiling at him happily.

“I love you, Killian. A little bit more each and every day.”

“For this day and all days,” he agreed, before kissing her sweetly and resting his forehead against hers. In that moment they just enjoyed this, breathing in the peace and calm they’d fought so hard for. And even when they did break apart, and were back in action once more, Emma carried her love for him always, reveling in how magical it was to truly have a happily ever after.

………………….

I hope we stay the same, hey Honeymoon

Unexpected, this thing that we fell into Lie, so connected You came at a time when my heart was selective Didn't have to choose my love Was accepted, yeah

Now we're running your luck one on one You were sent to me like a one of one And, now we're going I just want no one Nobody else

I hope we never change I hope we stay the same I hope that we can love through the pain After the honeymoon fades I hope we never change I hope we stay the same I hope we can love through the pain After the honeymoon fades

After the honeymoon fades, yeah

I remember when we met we was all in each other's bed And we were spending every second we had And now that it's official it's hitting a little different What the hell we're gonna do with these bads, no yeah

And now we're running your luck one on one You were sent to me like a one of one And, now we're going I just want no one Nobody else

I hope we never change I hope we stay the same I hope that we can love through the pain After the honeymoon fades I hope we never change I hope we stay the same I hope we can love through the pain After the honeymoon fades

After the honeymoon fades

And I hope it tastes the same Even if it's the best way

Honeymoon fading with you (Fading with you) Honeymoon fading with you (Fading with you) Honeymoon fading with you (Fading with you) Honeymoon fading, fading

Post-Note: So there we have it. Just a happy little dose of future fluff today. I find that writing these kinds of stories always brings me such a warm feeling, and though I know no show can go on forever, I still wish we’d seen more glimpses into how good things would have stayed for CS for years to come. Anyway, my wish for all of you is that this will have brought you some joy today, and that this chapter finds you healthy and well. I appreciate all of you reading and messaging me and leaving comments. It truly means the world, especially because I am mired down in work and stress and worry. I’m hoping to keep posting some chapters in the meantime, but if I get a bit spottier with the frequency, I hope you all will understand. Anyway hope you have a great rest of your weekend and thanks again for joining me on this fluffy little jaunt!

[corpse--diem]

Making Adult Friends | Chloe & Erin

TIMING: Early-mid January at Erin’s previous apartment PARTIES: @chloeinbetween​ & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Chloe and Erin meet up to watch Sharknado. It’s a very normal and not awkward time at all.  CONTENT WARNINGS: none

It was fine. It was cool. It was definitely not Chloe staring at her reflection in a storefront, trembling in nerves. The last time she’d gone over to someone’s house who she barely knew, well…. That hadn’t ended well. This time, Chloe was prepared, a heavy iron pendant in her hand. They were meeting outside to chat a little before they went into the nearby apartment block that Erin had said were hers. Leaning on a nearby post, she breathed hot

into her winter gloves, her fingers growing cold in the wind. “Oh, um, hey, are you Erin?” Chloe asked when she noticed a woman also looking around for someone. “I’m Chloe.”

Erin hadn’t known what had possessed her to reach out and see if this stranger online wanted to just… hang out. Maybe it was the need to socialize, or to talk to someone, anyone, about absolutely anything but the supernatural for five goddamn minutes. It was like the moment she’d been dropped into this world nearly a year ago, she hadn’t been able to get above the surface for even a breath. When Chloe agreed to watch some stupid movie with her, she wondered if the other woman simply wanted the same thing--some company and some laughs. She eyed the blonde who had approached, standing there like she’d been waiting for a bus outside of the apartment building. At first glance she looked as normal as she’d sounded. As normal as anyone who wanted to watch a movie called Sharknado with her. “Yep, that’s me,” Erin chirped, perking up with a bright smile. “Nice to meet you, Chloe.” She pulled a glove hand out of her pocket where it’d been hiding from the bite of the winter air and offered it to the other woman. “Not to rush things but what do you say we get out of this cold and at least get to the apartment lobby? My bones can’t take the cold quite like they used to.”

Chloe smiled, but it was watered down by the nervous wideness of her eyes. Erin looked, as much as possible anyway, like a normal human being. Chloe wasn't sure what she was looking for but she was looking all the same. When Erin breezed there was a cloud of condensation. She wore thick clothes to match the winter air. She wasn't standing strangely, nor was there was anything unusual about her way of speaking like Lydia had sometimes had. Nothing about Erin set off alarm bells. Chloe just wasn't convinced that meant anything. There was some part of her that knew that looking was as pointless as trying to avoid everyone. "That would be great," Chloe said, looking down at Erin's hand ever, taking it in a shake. She was about to be rude, she knew, but it was the only thing that made the idea of going inside Erin's house bearable. "Just one thing," Chloe said, holding out the iron round pendant in her hand. "This is iron, can you touch this for me please? It sounds so silly, I know, I feel absurd asking, but it's really important to me."

This is why you didn’t invite strangers to your house, Erin, she thought to herself as Chloe held out the iron pendant in front of her. There was a sincerity in her voice and eyes that was hard to dismiss but it didn’t instill much confidence in Erin. “You want me to… touch it?” She repeated the question, shifting where she stood, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like maybe this was some weird joke she wasn’t privy to. Her gloved hand reached out, an unsure smile wavering on her lips. “This isn’t one of those buzzer things that’ll give me a shock if I touch it right?” She’d dealt with weirder things than someone with bad jokes. Her hand hovered above it, hesitant, before tapping the top of it quickly--once, twice, flinching like it would do something. “Is that good enough?”

Chloe might have lost every social skill she’d ever had these last few years, but even she felt the immediate concern and discomfort from Erin. “No, no! It’s not a prank.” Her cheeks went a little red, and Chloe hoped she could just blame that on the cold. In hindsight, she should have asked Erin to take off her glove, and while she was sure Lydia wouldn’t have been so casual about touching iron ever, the leather really made the whole test moot. Chloe wasn’t sure she was brave enough to ask her to do it again without the glove. “Um yep! It’s just a safety thing, but it’s all good. I know it’s weird.” Maybe Erin would even tell her not to come in now.

A safety thing? Not surprisingly, Chloe’s affirmation did little to soften the eyebrow raised in her direction. “That’s--yeah. Of course. You’re coming to a stranger’s home. You want to be safe. I get it.” Erin doubled back, pointing back to the pendant in her hand. “I don’t know how that screams safety but if it makes you feel better… who am I to judge, I guess? I feel like I should probably have more precautions for you, honestly.” But there was real distress there Erin couldn’t ignore and it softened some of the harsher criticisms she would usually sling at someone giving such uncertain vibes. She’d never admit it but she did feel a little safer knowing there was a hunter right next door if shit ever hit the fan. “A little weird. But that’s okay. Maybe you can explain it when we go inside? Unless you’ve got any other questions for me or things you need me to touch.” She offered a smile, wrapping her arms back around herself, the cold collecting in wisps in front of her lips.

“Trust me, it makes all the difference in the world.” Chloe looked up at the building that Erin was standing by for the first time properly, and breathe a small sigh of relief. “If it makes you feel better, I actually know one of your neighbours, funnily enough.” Chloe had been about to expand on that when she realised that discussing how she'd been rescued from her prison by Kaden Langley was not the kind of thing that you used to open a casual conversation. Today was about fun and friendship possibly hopefully, not about digging into something that she didn't want to think about right now this second. “Oh!” Chloe exclaimed, laughing a little too high and a little too nervously, “No, no! Nothing else to touch, not that I can think of. Unless… there’s anything you want to ask me or to have me touch?”

A lingering hesitation followed Chloe’s confession about knowing one of her neighbors, casting a long glance her way. Please don’t be Kaden, please don’t be Kaden, was all Erin could think. “I think I’m good on the touching thing. People usually take me to dinner before I get asked that question, just for future reference,” she teased, trying to edge out some of the growing awkwardness, still very aware that they hadn’t even stepped foot into the building yet. She started walking back towards the building, stuffing her hands back into her jacket pocket. “So… wait, you know one of my neighbors?” She tried to add in casually despite the growing dread building in her stomach. She opened the door for Chloe and led her down the damn striped hallway the man in question was woefully responsible for. “Wouldn’t happen to be some french guy? Kinda rude? Name rhymes with maiden?”

Chloe did a double take, before flushing with real embarrassment. She didn’t know what to say to that, unable to shake the anxious discomfort that Erin hadn’t touched the iron with her bare hands. It was probably fine. What was the probability of any random person being fae? They were so secret for a reason.

“Right,” she tried to chuckle awkwardly. “What can I say, I’m a very forward person.” It sounded as awkward out loud as it had in her head. Chloe ran her hand against the wall, just in case she needed the balance help as the warm air of the hall wrapped around herm, but quickly withdrew her hand as the wall striped. It wasn’t a change in wallpaper, nor, when Chloe squinted, did it look like paint, it was just… printed on there, as if it was always meant to be there.

“Did you have a mime neighbor?” Chloe asked, before realising Erin had also asked her a question, she raised her eyebrow with a smile. “He, uh, hasn’t been rude to me, but yeah, I know Kaden Langley.”

There was a noticeable uncertainty in Chloe that seemed like it’d been there for sometime, and likely there before agreeing to watch a stupid movie with a stranger online. It wasn’t Erin’s place to push and instead smiled back at her, trying to assure her this was fine despite whatever unease she currently felt. “Obviously,” she laughed softly, digging her keys out. Nearly dropped them at the door when the word mime actually came out of Chloe’s mouth. She chuckled nervously, raising a brow. “You know, I’m not entirely sure about that. But I think I do,” she smirked to herself before leading Chloe into the apartment. Even if it was still generally bare, it was warm. “I’m glad he wasn’t then. He’s right next door, actually. He’s…” Erin sighed, a hint of reluctance in her voice, trying to save face in front of someone who could possibly be a friend or friendly acquaintance of his. “He’s not the worst neighbor. Even if he bakes constantly and doesn’t share. Ever.” She smiled over at her, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on a hook beside the door. Narrowed her eyes, suddenly straightening. “Oh shoot--you don’t have any allergies to animals or anything, do you?” As if on cue, the small, fluffy cat hopped up on the table nearest to Chloe, greeting the other woman with a friendly chirping meow.

“Doesn’t he?” Chloe repeated with a smile, sure that wasn’t the only reason for the rivalry between the two. Not that it was her business, but she couldn’t even imagine Kaden being a jerk. A little snippy, maybe, a little quick to temper, but that was the worst of what she could imagine. “It’s really cruel, to make someone smell how good your baking is without sharing it.” All the same, as she looked around Erin’s apartment, she couldn’t help but compare it to Kaden’s next door. Chloe jumped, bumping into the back of the doorframe and grabbing it wildly before regaining her balance. Just a cat. Just a cat! Chloe didn’t even realise how she’d clutched the chest of her jumper until she breathed out shakily. “No!” She replied, “Not allergic at all. Just- just a bit easy to startle. Sorry. Um, are, are they friendly? Do they like to be pet?” Chloe asked, her voice creaking.

“Could certainly be worse,” Erin replied, trying to brush off the edge in her voice she might have let slip through about her neighbor. All things considered, it truly could have been worse. Wasn’t great knowing you shared a wall with someone who would have preferred to see you behind bars. Easy enough to forget as she watched Chloe nearly jump out of her skin when Betty popped out to say hello. “I’ll remember that,” she nodded, another assuring, if not awkwardly unsure smile crossing her lips. Erin only knew a few things about Chloe so far, and two of those were: easy to startle and made people touch a pendant when they met. Strong start. “Oh, no, pet away. She’s the sweetest thing you’ll ever meet, I promise,” she added, crossing over to pet the top of her head. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything out there.” There were already a few plates of snacks on plates waiting on the coffee table in front of the television. Maybe a slight overcompensation for two people but it was hard to remember a time she had someone over for a completel supernatural free evening, even if it involved shark infested natural disasters. “Can I get you coffee or tea or something to drink?”

“Don’t say that,” Chloe replied tightly, swallowing, her skin growing pale as she looked around for extra trouble. Or maybe Erin was the extra trouble. Or maybe she needed to chill, but the feeling that Erin was about to get herself trapped was… unshakeable. “I mean, I’m sure she’s amazing, but you know, you never know with absolutes, you don’t want to say anything that’s…. You know, you never know.” Chloe offered her hand towards the cat to sniff, then gently pet her head, only a tiny bit of tension melting from the shoulders as she was greeted with the cat pressing into her hand. Chloe swallowed, suppressing the moment’s panic at being asked to make a choice. “Coffee would be great,” She said after a moment. “Just black is good. I appreciate it.” Her skin crawled from how painfully awkward this already was. “So, funeral director, right? That’s a really interesting job, especially in a town like this.” She couldn’t shake the memory of how Erin had introduced herself, like she was supposed to just know who the funeral director was, because there were so many deaths.

Erin eyed Chloe warily as she fumbled through the explanation of an apparently very real fear that didn’t quite match up with its source. Not to Erin, anyway, and not right away. The more she thought about it though, a creeping, nearly long-forgotten dread started to climb its way back up insides. “Right,” she drawled slowly, as if trying to still understand but not wanting to be rude by sitting in the brief silence that followed it. She started the coffee anyway, thankful to have something to at least busy her hands with. “That’s pretty fair actually.  Do you have a problem with promises as a whole, then? Or just absolutes?” She asked, maybe not so subtly alluding to what Chloe’s words had instantly brought to mind. A flash of Regan, a glass of water and Dr. Rickers’ beard hair flashed behind her eyes. If Chloe had any experience with those kinds of promises, her fear made a mountain of sense. “You mean a town like this with a death rate like this?” She tacked on, glancing over as she poured the coffee, a knowing smirk on her lips. “It keeps me busy, that’s for sure.” It did, anyway, and hopefully would continue to after things were sorted. She didn’t want to think about that right now though. “What did you say you did?” She asked, placing the cup of coffee in front Chloe before taking up a spot on the couch.

If Chloe could be any redder, she should just start a career as a traffic light. Her skin was flushed beetroot red as Erin drawled her skepticism. Which was better than what came next, as the blood drained from her face as quickly as it had appeared. Was it a trap? Erin had touched the iron with her gloves, after all, and Chloe was really regretting not insisting now. Then again, she wasn’t sure anyone who was a fae or hung out with fae in any significant way would have used the phrase I promise that quickly. “Promises are the most intense absolutes, more than most people realise, I think.” She tried to cover for herself, managing to answer the question even less subtly than Erin had asked it.

Safe to say, a conversation about jobs was much easier.  “Well, uh,  yes, considering the deathrate and all.” Chloe said quietly, matching Erin’s smile much more nervously. “Um, not much at the moment, if I’m honest? Kind of… looking for a job at the moment. I haven’t really been….. Employed for a few years now, but I used to teach music at an elementary school.” Because talking about the past was something Chloe could definitely, certainly do without coming across weird. It wasn’t even that the Lydia stuff was secret, or that she felt like it was a good idea to keep it secret, but in the closest thing she’d had to normalcy in… years, she was kind of reticent to ruin that.

Chloe might have answered her question but it didn’t leave Erin with any more answers or assurances than before she’d asked it. There was no missing the literal uncomfortable physical reaction Chloe had to her words. Her curiosity skyrocketed. “Oh, I agree,” she nodded whole-heartedly, wondering how long she could toe this line without asking what she actually wanted to know. The woman had already asked her to touch a pendant before she’d come into her home and they were about to watch a movie about a fictional shark-filled natural disaster. What did she really have to lose? “You make a promise and then suddenly you’re bound to it.” She pointedly paused, lifting the cup of coffee to her lips as she peered over at Chloe over the top of it. “Been there before and it’s not a good feeling. I don’t make promises I can’t keep anymore. Or at all, if I can help it.”

There was more ease in this part of the conversation, but not by much. If Erin ever thought she was wound tightly, she had absolutely nothing on the spring coil energy her new acquaintance had. “A music teacher? Really?” A softer, more genuine smile crossed Erin’s lips. “And there’s nothing at the schools right now? That’s surprising.” That high death rate touched every aspect of this town. No one was excluded. Her eyes narrowed gently in her direction. “Assuming teaching is something you want to get back to. Parents are always looking for private music instructors for their kids too. I was saddled with one until I was sixteen when mine decided I was learning how to play the organ.”

“Then you’re smart,” Chloe said softly, and itched to ask more, but they’d never watch the movie at all if she kept asking and… she wanted the quiet. She wanted to not spend every situation talking about fae, or being trapped, or anything. But her body did loosen up, relaxing, just to know that Erin knew something.

“Well, I don’t really know that I want to go back to music. Too much baggage, and my voice is kind of… wrecked.” Like she’d been swallowing gravel on a weekly basis. “I’m due a career change anyway, right? Something quiet and easy.” That didn’t even involve thinking about music. “Damn. The organ is an impressive instrument to learn, though, especially as a kid. Guessing it comes in handy at work too.”

Chloe’s conciseness didn’t have an edge to it but there was enough there for Erin to take the hint. There was more there, and as desperately as she wanted to dig further, chasing off the person she was trying to befriend with her nosiness wasn’t the goal for today. “Just experienced,” she tacked on with a raised brow, reaching for some of the snacks she’d prepared and left it at that.

Too much baggage? Wasn’t what she was expecting there either but she nodded as if she understood anyway. That was Chloe’s prerogative, after all. “Oh, absolutely. They loved being able to throw me out there in front of a grieving family and make the whole room sob with some Ave Maria or Amazing Grace.” She smirked, reaching for the remote, sorting through the available movies until the movie poster with the flying sharks filled the screen. “Something quiet and easy sounds fair though. Do you have your eyes on anything in particular?” She tilted her head at Chloe, a teasing smile on her lips. “You know, it’s very quiet in a funeral home. I’ll be opening up again soon, and positions are open, so…”

Experienced. Erin knew. Erin knew something about Fae, but the tone told her it wasn’t that she was fae. For the first time all night, Chloe relaxed more comfortably in her seat. She didn’t have to explain everything or talk about everything. They could just both… know, and not address it, not tonight. “Oh, I bet. Those melodies are heart stoppers.”

“The job offerings in this town are pretty… eclectic. I applied for a reception job at a ghost tour operator, but apparently competition for that kind of job is fierce,” Chloe said with an amused smile, not realising that not believing in ghosts had been the only reason she hadn’t gotten it. She smiled back at Erin, not quite sure how sincere the offer was. “Maybe you’ll see my application at some point,” Chloe said quietly, and although she expected to cringe away from the thought of working in such a macabre field, she found herself oddly… at ease with the idea. She’d seen more than enough terrible death to be afraid of the mundane kind.

Erin smiled sincerely in Chloe’s direction. Whatever she’d said seemed to add an air of calmness to the room, for the first time since she’d met her outside and was asked to touch an iron pendant. She couldn’t say she wasn’t thankful for it. “Well, I’d be happy to read over it, if that’s the case.” She wasn’t sure how applicable Chloe’s skills as a music teacher were going to translate to the funeral home but she supposed if she could wrangle a group of kids with loud instruments, she could handle some phone calls, surely. They’d cross that bridge when or if they got there.

“Oh!” She interjected, finishing a quick sip of her coffee and set it down on the table. “The movie.” Tucking her legs under her, she let a goofier smile pull at her lips and clicked the remote until the film was up and ready to play. “Are you ready to experience the thrill of a lifetime? Or do you need more time to prepare?”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever truly ready for Sharknado,” Chloe replied with a grin, settling into the couch. “How can anyone prepare for that level of artistry?” She turned her eyes to the screen as the opening sequence began, the corners of her lips turned up. Her body thrummed with a quiet kind of contentment. It was easy to be scared, but it was just as easy to be grateful. There was, on this couch with a new acquaintance and a delightfully terrible movie playing, so much to still be grateful for.

[ranma-rewatch]

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Welcome back! It’s once again that time for me to watch some more Ranma 1/2, in doing so looking at it with fresh eyes and a different perspective from when I was younger. We’re already up to episode 13, and with it the end of Kodachi Kuno’s introductory arc. I’m guessing this is going to be almost a full episode of fighting, but how good that fighting will be, I don’t recall. But by next paragraph, I’ll have rewatched the episode, and I can talk about it just a bit better. See you then!

That certainly was almost a single fight for the entire episode. Now, unlike the full episode fight against Ryoga, my summary is going to be a lot shorter. There’s a lot fewer moving parts here, and I feel like going blow by bow would be boring.

In general, the idea of the fight is that the combatants lose if they go outside the ring, and they get a foul (though the exact penalty isn’t made clear) if they hit each other directly without using tools or weapons. Besides that, there are no rules. Kodachi and Ranma both have new items thrown to them when they need it, but Kodachi is obviously the one who stretches the rules the most. Most of the fight is her pulling new insane things out of nowhere that Ranma has to work around.

When it comes to actual plot stuff, the first big thing is when Kodachi mouths off again about how much she loves Ranma and can’t wait to date him and stuff. Ranma gets annoyed, and Kodachi interprets this as Ranma loving, well, Ranma too. Kuno jumps into the ring at that (By which I mean Tatewaki Kuno. I know they both have that last name, but when I say ‘Kuno’, assume I just mean him), and demands to know if this is true. Instead of denying it or playing into the idea, Ranma takes a third option and says something that’s technically true, that he and Ranma are one in body and mind, because of destiny.

Of course, the two rich folks immediately interpret that in some serious ways, though exactly what they think that means isn’t spelled out. Do they think Ranma and Ranma bang or something? Anyway, a little after that, Genma shows up looking like a panda in the stands, carrying a kettle of hot water. Whether that’s for him when he decides he’s done being a panda or for Ranma to use after the fight, I don’t know.

The problem is, by this point, Ranma and Kodachi have entered the stage in the fight where they’re using their ribbons to grab stuff from outside the ring and hurl it as each other. Kodachi takes the kettle, and notices immediately how scared Ranma and P-chan are. Oh, yeah, Ryoga is still chained to Ranma, and he does what he can to try and make Ranma lose every so often.

Kodachi uses a pretty clever trick of slicing the kettle in mid-air to soak Ranma and Ryoga, and they change back in mid-air. Luckily for them, Akane saw that coming, and enters back into the gym carrying a fire hose, with water cold enough to turn them back into their cursed forms. It also means Ranma has to swim for dear life to stop from getting knocked out of the ring, but it works.

A bit later on, the show cuts to a group of teenage girls somewhere dark, and we get a nice little break from the fight as they chat amongst themselves. But when it gets back to the fight, Ranma is able to finally knock Kodachi flying, far outside the ring’s boundaries. But all she has to do is whistle, and the ring gets up and moves across the gym so she still lands inside it. Ranma quickly puts together what’s going on, and destroys the floor of the ring, exposing the girls we saw before, who run away.

Now there’s no place to stand except the four corners and the ropes, but Ranma is fine with that, pointing out that he has an advantage in aerial fights. Too bad that he forgot Ryoga is still attached to him, and his rival goes extra far in trying to shake him off. The chain is broken, but Ranma doesn’t have any tools left to fight with. So instead of getting a foul by just getting Kodachi, he kicks the post she’s standing on, sending her sprawling to the ground for a win.

After the match, she tearfully agrees to abandon her ‘present’ love for Ranma Saotome, and everything seems to have worked out great. At least, that is until later, when Ranma and Ryoga are taking a hot bath together. Ranma complains about Ryoga’s attempts to sabotage the fight, which he defends with a reminder that he wants Akane himself. Then he uses cold water to be P-chan just as Akane calls for him, leading to another case of Ranma running into Akane’s room and getting assumed a pervert as he chases Ryoga.

After that, Ranma gets back to back flowers from each Kuno sibling. He sees Tatewaki uncursed, and Kodachi cursed, so each gives the bouquet to deliver to the Ranma that they love. Leaving Ranma holding a bunch of flowers and having to contend with the fact that he now has two Kuno’s to worry about, long-term. Kodachi defends her continued pursuit of Ranma by saying she abandoned her ‘present’ love and developed a new one.

So, what is there to say about that episode? Well, a lot, actually. It didn’t necessarily blow me away, but I do think it was a stronger fight than the last time a whole episode was centered on a battle, since this one doesn't have nearly as many cutaways to unnecessary plot points. There was a short scene of just listening to the announcer describe the fight while we just saw outside the school, which felt a bit chief, but on the other hand I really liked the little bit we got with the gymnasts under the mat. Those minor characters got more definition than they necessarily needed, and it made the coming cheat more fun than the others.

This is also kind of a big first for the series. Namely, it’s the first time Ranma has fought someone who practices a strange, ultra-specific kind of martial art and did so while following all of that school’s rules. Sure, Tatewaki Kuno fights with a wooden sword, but those were all basically street matches, as was Ranma’s fight with Ryoga. But this is an official match, and Ranma obeys all the rules wherein and still wins.

That is something that will be incredibly common from here on out, in manga-adapted stories and anime-original stories. I’ve yet to see it mentioned in-series, and I can’t recall it doing so later on, but it’s generally accepted as canon by fans that this is for a reason. Ranma and Akane’s school, Anything Goes Martial Arts, isn’t called that for no reason. They are supposed to fight other styles, learn from them, and take what’s useful to use themselves. It’s a great way to add more moves to the protagonists’ repertoire, and get them into fights with silly fighters.

This specific fight was...okay. Actually, I feel like I’m a bit of a grump for saying that, it was good. There were some neat moves, lots of back and forth with stuff, it was enjoyable to see. It wasn’t anywhere near what I think this series can do at its best, but it was a good way to end this mini-arc. I do feel like Kodachi, as a character, doesn’t get the same level of badassery even her brother does from the story, and that feels kind of lame. It seems like, in general, Ranma 1/2 saves all the cool stuff for the guys.

To continue what I was talking about with Kodachi last week, I do think it’s really interesting how different she is in each language. It’s a strange case of part-translation and part-acting, but the english version of the character definitely hits different, and not in a good way. It’s actually making me reevaluate her a little, just because the version in the original Japanese is so much better. It feels a lot less like “she’s crazy!” and more “she’s a highly driven and amoral rich girl!”

This was a good episode. I am once again pleasantly surprised by this arc, and it’s raising my hopes that further stories will be better than I recall. As for where to put it in my rankings exactly, I actually think I’ll put it one step above the last single episode of just fighting, and right below that emotional episode about Akane’s feelings for Dr. Tofu. What can I say? I like the feels. That puts the current ranking at:

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Now, if you’re watching this series on Hulu like I am, you might think the next episode is the first part of the Martial Arts Figure Skating arc. And while, wow, I sure wish it was, that is actually wrong. I don’t know why, but some of the arcs are in the wrong order on Hulu, but I’m watching the series in the actual order. Which means, instead of watching one of my favorite arcs in the series, the next episode is actually “Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan”. My hopes...are not high. See you all...then...I suppose...

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Jackie and Wilson (Barry Berkman X Reader)

WC: 5801

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, sexual implications, angst at the end

Summary: Barry and Y/N’s relationship seen through Hozier’s ‘Jackie and Wilson’

Tagged: @billhaderlovebot @danny-fucking-mercury

A/N: Hey guys so this was my first time writing for Barry and I hope you all enjoy it bc I really liked writing this!

So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes

No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

So deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine

For reasons wretched and divine

 Barry hated his life. He hated that he killed people for money, he hated that he was at Fuches’ beck and call, he hated the anger and the violence. He didn’t just hate it though, he was tired of it. Tired of all the red in his ledger. His entire life had been violence and too much blood had been spilled by his hands. The hands that were currently gripping the neck of a beer bottle with a little too much force.

In a last-ditch attempt to find some sort of purpose in his life Barry had sat in on Ryan’s acting class and had found that he loved it, and even though every fibre of his body was screaming ‘Say no!’ when Sally invited him to join the class at Residuals, he ended up agreeing, and that was where he was. Instead of returning to the shitty motel he was lodged at, he was in a booth at a bar somewhere in downtown LA, clutching his bottle of beer like it was a life raft. 

“So Barry, did you just move here?” Someone asked, bringing him out of his daze as he refocused his eyes on the people sitting in the booth with him.

 “Oh uh yeah, from Cleveland.” He responded half-heartedly, just keeping the conversation going for the sake of being polite. The conversation seemed to progress as everyone said where they were from, Barry nodding every now and then to show that he was still somewhat present.

He took a long drink from his bottle, eyes widening slightly when he heard Sally ask him to go dance. He shook his head, wiping his mouth before uttering a feeble excuse as to why he couldn’t dance. Sally didn’t believe him at all, that much was clear from her face, but she conceded, informing him that she’d be on the dance floor if he needed her. He nodded, watching as she walked away, along with the rest of the class, leaving Barry at the booth by himself. 

He sighed, slumping forward so his head was in his hands. He so desperately wanted to be able to relax and have fun with these people, but he couldn’t. He was so deep in all the shit his job entailed he was almost incapable of relaxing. 

Barry took in a deep breath and lifted his head, flagging down someone and asking for another bottle of beer and a shot of vodka. He shot the waiter a tight-lipped smile as he walked away, smiling again when he returned with the requested drinks.

Barry downed the shot first, cringing at how the alcohol burned his throat. He’d done plenty of vodka shots in his life but he rarely let himself feel the pain that came with them. He then started on his beer, watching the oddly lit tavern with a curious eye.

He so desperately wished he wasn’t who he was, that he was someone else who was free from the wretched constraints currently placed upon him by Fuches. Or maybe that he was a better version of himself, one that didn’t kill people as easily as a child might squash an ant. 

Who was he kidding? There was no better version of himself he could ever pretend to be, not tonight or ever. If he had learnt anything from the class, it’s that he certainly wasn’t the world’s best actor.

 She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild

Laughing away through my feeble disguise

No other version of me I would rather be tonight.

And, Lord, she found me just in time

In Barry’s moment of anguish and self-pity, he had failed to notice the woman who had sat herself down opposite him in the booth. She had something that looked like a mojito or another tropical drink in her hand and she was looking him up and down, trying to understand this stranger.

“You look a little too pretty to be sitting here alone, mister.” She said, and Barry nearly jumped out of his seat. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, his brows furrowing in confusion at her sudden appearance.

“I’m sorry, what?” He said, and the woman sighed, holding up a finger as a gesture for him to wait as she took a drink from her glass. 

“I said you look a little too pretty, and now I’m realising maybe a little too sad, to be sitting here alone.” She said, and Barry felt his cheeks start to burn under the scrutinous eye of this obviously drunk stranger.

“You seem a little too drunk to be commenting on strangers.” Barry said, unusually curt, though he attributed that to the alcohol and the session of self-pity. The woman simply raised her eyebrows before stretching her hand out across the table.

“It seems we have gotten off on the wrong foot, pretty man. My name is Y/N.” She said, and Barry gave her a quick look up and down before taking her hand in his and shaking it.

“I’m Barry. Sorry for being so rude, I’ve just been having a rough time lately.” Barry said, and Y/N shrugged her shoulders, taking another drink.

“We all have rough times, what matters is how we deal with them Barry. For example, being rude to strangers isn’t great but it is better than, I don’t know, murder.” Y/N said, chuckling to herself as Barry froze up.

How did she know? Was she sent here by someone? He started to panic, grabbing for his beer and downing most of what remained as Y/N watched on with curiosity.

“Man, you’re an interesting guy, Barry. So how does a pretty guy such as yourself end up at Residuals at this hour?” Y/N asked, watching Barry’s face change ever so slightly before he answered.

He told her all about how he moved from Cleveland and how he hated his job (that was no lie) and as they talked, and talked, and talked, Barry realised that perhaps he needed someone like Y/N in his life. She was so easy to talk to, and Barry felt he had known her his whole life instead of the few hours he had really known her for.

He thought back to his earlier anger and his wish to be some other version of himself, and he immediately retracted his wish. He had decided that there was no other version of himself he would rather be, because if he was any different he might not have known Y/N the way he now knew her, and he couldn’t stand that thought.

As he looked across at her, her face and arms animated as she told a story that Barry couldn’t quite remember the details of, he realised that not only was Y/N the one that found him, but by God she found him just in time.

 Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done

I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young

 As the night started to draw to a close, Barry had completely forgotten the internal crisis that has plagued him before. Instead, all he now focused on was Y/N. The charismatic stranger who he now knew very well, and as he stared into her eyes he realised that she was very attractive and he very much wanted to kiss her.

“Earth to Barry, come in Barry.” Y/N said, waving her hands in front of his face. He jumped slightly, focusing in on the woman who looked at him with a soft smile.

“You spaced out there for a sec. I was just going to ask if you wanted to get out of here, because it’s nearly closing time but also I think you’re pretty great and don’t want to say goodnight just yet.” Y/N said, wringing her hands slightly as she watched anxiously for Barry’s reaction.

“That sounds great, yeah. I’d like that.” Barry said, and Y/N’s face lit up in a smile. She jumped up excitedly, pulling her jacket on while still beaming, and Barry couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face in response to her joy.

She left a bunch of money on the table as a means of payment for the drinks, and soon Barry was hurriedly waving goodbye to the few remaining members of the acting class as he walked out just behind Y/N. They walked for a few metres until they were near the side of Residuals.

“So Y/N, where did you want to.” Barry’s sentence died as Y/N cupped his face, bringing him into a somewhat messy kiss. Barry’s eyes fluttered shut instinctively but when he truly realised what was happening his eyes flew open. 

Y/N had her hand on his face and she was kissing him. This beautiful woman was kissing him voluntarily, and he wasn’t kissing back because he was analysing it. Fuck, he thought, I should probably kiss her back.

Barry’s eyes closed as he returned the kiss, allowing himself to give into the joy that he was feeling. Y/N was somewhat forceful, and before he knew it she had backed him up against the rough wall, tangling her other hand in his dark hair as they continued to kiss.

Y/N broke away and Barry took in a shaky breath, his head falling back against the wall as she began to press kisses down his jawline and neck. His hands were against her back, clutching the fabric of her shirt so tight his hands hurt.

He hadn’t done anything like this in a very long time. He hadn’t been wanted in a very long time, at least not romantically… or sexually. He was brought from his thoughts by Y/N’s teeth grazing over a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, a groan spilling from the back of his throat.

Barry felt her smirk against his neck at the sound he made, and he knew he was in trouble. Y/N pulled away from him, her chest heaving almost in time with Barry’s. She looked up at him and he let out a breathy laugh.

“What?” She said, not cruelly or harshly, but with a soft curiosity that made Barry want to smile.

“I feel like a fucking teenager.” Barry said, almost giggling as he uttered those words. The irony in them was that Barry didn’t really have the ideal teenage years with the parties and reckless behaviour and everything you see in the movies. He was a good kid in high school and went into the marines pretty much right out of high school. 

Y/N let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of Barry’s mouth. “Well, it’s good to feel young.” She whispered in his ear, raising the hairs on the nape of his neck as he shuddered, inhaling deeply.

Barry never really got to feel young, and as Y/N’s lips found his again with more force he realised that if being with Y/N was what being young felt like, he wanted to feel young for the rest of his life.

 She's gonna save me,

Call me "baby"

Run her hands through my hair

She'll know me crazy

Soothe me daily

Better yet she wouldn't care

 Barry woke up the next morning feeling strangely peaceful. There was a dull ache in his head and an arm wrapped around his waist. Y/N’s arm, he realised, and his heart sped up. He looked down at her, her eyes still closed and her face as relaxed as could be, and he smiled.

He fought the urge to reach down and push her hair behind her ear, and he felt a strange sense of pride flow throw him when he saw the marks that decorated her neck.

He went to close his eyes again but heard the distinctive buzz of his phone. He groaned loudly, stretching his arm out to grab the phone, however his heart dropped when he saw the message. It was from Fuches, informing him that the next hit had been moved to tonight instead of next Wednesday. He swore, putting the phone face down on the bedside table and dropping his head into his hands.

Amongst all the noise and movement, Y/N had woken up groggily. She rubbed her eyes slowly, but when she saw Barry in a state of distress she was wide awake.

“Shit Barry, are you ok? What’s up?” She said, her voice still riddled with sleep as she sat up, looking over at Barry who had lifted his head slightly, meeting her worried eyes.

“It’s… it’s just shit with work. You don’t have to worry. I’ll go make breakfast, you can go back to sleep.” Barry said, throwing the covers off his legs. Y/N frowned in confusion before reaching out to grab Barry’s wrist.

“I know we only met last night but you can talk to me Barry. If we never see each other again then think of it as an inexpensive therapy, and if we do see each other again then it’s still inexpensive therapy but you get more sessions.” Y/N said, lightly running her thumb against his wrist and the look he gave her was so full of emotion it almost hurt.

He almost collapsed into her arms, grasping at her oversized shirt as she held him. Barry had been forced to be strong and hold it together for far too long, and there was something about Y/N’s genuine want to help him out however she could that just broke him.

She rubbed his back with one hand, gently running the other through his hair, occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. “It’s ok baby, take as long as you need, but if I have to go to the bathroom then you’re getting booted, I’m sorry.” Y/N said, and Barry laughed, his entire body shuddering slightly against her as he did.

There was something so soothing about her touch, and he felt that even though they were practically strangers, she seemed to know him in a crazily intimate way. She knew just what words to say to help him out, when to speak and when to remain quiet, and the best part of the morning was that she didn’t care.

Y/N didn’t care that he suddenly collapsed onto her and laid there for half an hour in almost silence, she didn’t care that he clearly was suffering more than he let on. She just took every moment as it came, and every time her hands wound into his hair and she called him baby in that soft voice of hers he swore that he wouldn’t ever give this up.

 We'll steal her Lexus,

Be detectives,

Ride 'round picking up clues

 Several weeks had passed since that night at Residuals, and Barry was feeling happier than he had ever felt before. Even though he was still being made to do work for Fuches, it wasn’t consuming him and eating away at him like it used to. He almost felt normal with Y/N, something he had spent the last 20 years yearning for.

“Hey babe, I really need to practice this scene for class and Sally’s busy so would you be able to run lines with me?” Barry said, causing Y/N to look up from her battered copy of Pet Sematary.

“Sure. I’m warning you now that I certainly will not be as good as Sally. I haven’t done anything close to acting since the ninth grade. What’s the scene?” Y/N asked, putting down her book and moving to stand behind Barry, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“It’s uh, a scene from A Streetcar Named Desire. Mr Cousineau wanted to challenge us with some more classic plays.” Barry said, craning his head to make eye contact with his girlfriend.

“Oh yeah, I remember studying this in junior year. Challenging is the right word for it.” Y/N muttered, causing Barry to chuckle, nodding his head as he picked up the script.

“Did you wanna start now?” Barry asked and Y/N nodded, removing her hands so Barry could stand up. They moved into position, and Barry passed Y/N his copy of the script.

“I tried to memorise my lines, but if I fuck up just give me the right line, ok?” Barry said and Y/N nodded, smiling at him.

“I take it I’m Blanche?” She said and Barry nodded, taking in a deep breath with his eyes closed, clearly getting into character. Y/N gazed over the script and realised that she had the first line, cursing under her breath before starting.

“Well, well.” She said, her lines punctuated by an uneasy (in-character) laugh from Barry, who looked at her meekly.

“I guess it must be pretty late – and you’re tired.” Barry said, and Y/N had to fight her laugh at the slight New Orleans twist he had added to his voice.

“Even the hot tamale man has deserted the street, and he hangs on till the end.” Y/N said, cringing at how stilted the words sounded. “How will you get home?” She continued, hoping she didn’t sound as robotic as she thought she did.

“I’ll walk over to Bourbon and catch a streetcar.” Barry said, and as Y/N’s eyes flicked down again she realised he had slightly messed up his words.

“Sorry hun, it’s an ‘owl-car’ not a streetcar.” She said and Barry swore under his breath, nodding as he gave her a thumbs up.

“Thanks, let’s keep going.” He said, prompting Y/N to look at the script and deliver her next line. It said for her to laugh grimly, however whatever she did sounded more like a witch’s cackle.

“Is that streetcar named Desire still grinding along the tracks at this hour?” Y/N said, trying to add a southern twang to her accent but failing miserably. She couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, knowing she was probably no help to Barry at all.

Quickly her soft laughter turned into a full-blown fit, and soon Barry was laughing as well, watching his girlfriend throw herself on his couch in a frenzy of laughter. 

“God I am so shit at this. Like so incredibly bad.” Y/N said through her giggles, looking up at Barry with wide eyes.

“I mean, I’ve seen worse.” Barry said, sitting down next to her. She raised her eyebrows, sitting up straight and turning to face Barry.

“Do not bullshit me, Berkman. That was utter trash and you know it.” Y/N said, looking him dead in the eyes and watching as he broke, nodding his head with a tight lipped smile on his face.

“Yeah it was pretty bad.” He said and Y/N laughed loudly, resting her head against Barry’s shoulder.

“I’m sick of all this acting stuff. I have an idea. I think we should just let loose and steal a car, then go on a crazy cool road trip.” Y/N said, and Barry pulled a confused face.

“Y/N are you ok? How much sleep did you get last night?” Barry asked, and Y/N waved her hand dismissively.

“That doesn’t matter. Ooh, maybe we could get some cheap cop costumes and pretend to be detectives solving our own little case. That could be fun, right?” Y/N says, taking Barry’s hand and playing with his fingers as she spoke.

“We could always go to the beach in October just for the hell of it.” Barry said and Y/N smiled widely, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Now you’ve got it. Keep the ideas coming, Berkman. I’ve got all day.”

 We'll name our children

Jackie and Wilson

Raise 'em on rhythm and blues

 Barry and Y/N had been together for about two and a half months, verging on three, and they loved every second of it. Neither of them had ever been with someone who complimented them so well, and Barry was so grateful for her presence in his life.

It was a quiet night. The two of them had been curled up in Y/N’s bed watching one of the cheesy 2000’s rom coms from Y/N’s collection, and once the movie had finished they were content to just lie in each other’s arms in bed.

A comfortable silence had settled over them until Y/N suddenly broke it. “Do you ever think about the future, Barry?” Barry was a little startled by her sudden question and he rolled over to face her, studying her features in the dim bedroom light.

“I don’t know. I guess my mind tends to wander sometimes, but I only ever think about the little future-related things.” Barry said, his answer a little basic due to his tired state.

“Well, do you ever think about our future, then?” Y/N asked, a little more hesitant as she waited for Barry’s answer.

“Yeah, a lot. I feel like such a little kid, but I daydream a lot. Sometimes in rehearsals, sometimes at work, and without fail they’re always dreams about us.” Barry said softly, and the blush that coated Y/N’s cheeks was almost noticeable, even in the dark room. There was a look in her eyes that prompted Barry to keep talking.

“Sometimes it’s us living together, sometimes us on holiday together, sometimes us married with kids.” Barry said, his voice softening. He didn’t want to scare Y/N away with the idea of marriage and kids. They’d only been together for a few months but he knew she’d be the one he’d marry and have a family with.

“You think about us getting married and having kids?” Y/N said, looking at Barry with more love in her eyes than he had ever seen, and he nodded gently, his hand reaching out to cup her face. Y/N smiled, leaning into his touch as she brought her own hand up to rest over his.

“So do I. I love you so much Barry, and I want to spend my life with you. Really.” She said, feeling her heart soar as she looked into Barry’s eyes.

“Are you proposing to me, Y/L/N? That’s very unorthodox of you.” Barry said, and Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

“I’m not proposing, baby. I’m just saying that you’re the best thing in my life. Similar but different, I can understand the confusion.” Y/N said, causing Barry to let out a laugh that was cut short by him kissing Y/N tenderly.

“I like the name Jackie.” Y/N said once they pulled away and Barry looked at her with a raised eyebrow, prompting her to keep talking.

“For a girl, obviously, and for a boy I’ve always liked the name Wilson. It was my dad’s name.” She said, and a look of understanding crossed Barry’s face.

“They’re both great names.” Barry said and Y/N smiled, pecking his cheek as they moved into a more suitable sleeping position, her head on his chest and his arm around her shoulders.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you, Barry Berkman. I love you.”

 Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime

Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine

Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside

Sit back and watch the world go by.

 “Hey babe, look what I got!” Y/N called to her boyfriend from the front of their house. They had been together for six months and were moving into a tiny house in the outer suburbs of Los Angeles that they had miraculously been able to purchase.

A lot of their friends said they were moving pretty quickly, but Y/N and Barry never listened to them. The moving process was messy and tiresome, but it was mostly finished. They were now just working on minor things, which is what prompted Y/N to go out looking for plants.

“They had these super cool black irises at the nursery so I picked some up for the garden. Did you know that they’re the national flower of Jordan? The lady at the store told me.” Y/N said, carefully setting the pots down on their front porch.

Barry had emerged from the house and was looking at Y/N with a loving smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a brief kiss, pulling away before gently pecking his lips once more.

“Front yard or back?” Barry asked, his hands resting on her hips. Y/N chuckled softly, shrugging her shoulders.

“Whatever you want, babe.” Y/N said, winking exaggeratedly at Barry who just rolled his eyes.

“Back yard it is. Let’s go plant these interesting flowers.” Barry said, picking up a pot and looking at it inquisitively as he made his way to the backyard.

“Don’t bully the flowers, Barry! They’re the national flower of Jordan, treat them with some respect!” Y/N hollered as she followed Barry, the other pot clutched in her hands.

Barry laughed to himself, marvelling at how domestic the situation was. Never in a million years did he think he would be planting flowers in the small backyard of the house he shared with his girlfriend, but life is funny sometimes. Even though he still hadn’t told Y/N the truth about how he had enough money to afford the house, he wanted to enjoy every moment with her.

The planting of the flowers was fun and did involve a bit of a dirt war, but once everything was properly taken care of, the couple stood in the small garden, Barry’s arms around Y/N’s waist from behind and his head in the crook of her neck as they looked at their handiwork.

“I could stay here forever. Just standing here with you, watching the world go by. I love it.” Barry said suddenly, his breath on Y/N’s neck causing hairs to raise.

“Ideally I’d like to be sitting down if I’m watching the world go by, but I get where you’re coming from.” Y/N said, and Barry let out a short laugh, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

Barry decided then and there that he only ever wanted to be this version of himself. The one who got to love and be loved by Y/N. The one who got to plant flowers and hold her close to him. As he looked at the garden over Y/N’s shoulder, he realised that in a way every other version of himself was dead and buried in the yard with the irises, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 Happy to lie back watch it burn and rust

We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us.

 Barry’s phone had been going off non-stop for the past week. Fuches and Hank had been calling and texting, always inquiring about the big hit he had coming up. Did he have enough ammo? Did he know exactly where he was supposed to be at what time? Did he know enough about the target? Did he make sure to eat breakfast because being a hitman is busy work and can maybe make you forget meals? That last one was Hank, ever the polite criminal mastermind.

He had given Y/N an endless list of apologies and excuses, and he started to think she might be seeing through them. The last thing he wanted was for her to find out (even though he knew that he’d have to tell her eventually), least of all for her to find out in such a lazy way as accidentally picking up a phone call meant for Barry.

He was watching an old episode of Family Ties with Y/N, and just as she was laughing at some Michael J Fox-as-Alex P Keaton said, Barry’s phone went off. It was another text from Fuches, and he cursed as he saw it.

“Who keeps texting you babe? If you’ve got a mistress you might want to be a bit better at keeping it covered up.” Y/N said from her perch on the couch, legs folded under her.

Barry pulled a face, shaking his head. “Firstly I don’t have a mistress and the fact that you think I’d ever have one hurts a little, and secondly it’s work again. I swear they won’t leave me alone.” Barry said, shoving his phone in his pocket as he desperately tried to ignore the incessant buzzing.

“Babe, here’s a wild thought. How about you try ignoring it? Turn your phone completely off, lie back and ignore it all.” Y/N said, and Barry’s face screwed up slightly. He knew she had a point but there was no way he could do that without significant consequences.

“If you don’t do it, I will.” Y/N said, raising her eyebrows as she looked at Barry with a challenging expression, daring him to turn off his phone. He caved under the intense stare of his girlfriend, and he turned his phone completely off and placed it on a nearby coffee table.

“Now how about you turn off the TV, I’ll turn on the radio and we can relax. Maybe we can dance, I don’t know.” She said, and Barry nodded, picking up the TV remote and turning the thing off, cutting Steven Keaton off in the middle of his sentence.

Y/N got up, shooting Barry a wink as she moved over to the stereo, turning it on. She smiled at the sound of Jackie Wilson’s voice coming through the speakers, starting to move in time with the beat.

“Join me, Berkman.” She said, stretching her arms out towards him. Barry smiled and moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as they swayed to the rhythm of the music.

“You know what I’ve realised?” Y/N said, her arms snacking around Barry’s neck as he hummed in acknowledgement, looking down at her.

“I don’t think the world gets us, or at least some of the people in it. They always judge and try and pull us apart in some way, so I think that maybe the world isn’t for us, Bear.” Y/N said, watching Barry’s face soften at the nickname for him that she used sparingly.

“I think I get what you mean, and just saying, I love how your mind works.” Barry said, kissing Y/N’s forehead as she giggled.

“I love you, bear.”

 Cut clean from the dream at night let my mind reset

Looking up from a cigarette, and she's already left

I start digging up the yard for what's left of me and our little vignette

For whatever poor soul is coming next

  The hit had gone badly. He had taken almost every measure to make it go smoothly, but he couldn’t account for the sheer fight his target gave. He did the job, but he was battered and bruised and angry. Not just angry, raging.

When he got home he just wanted to get out of his gear, have a shower and either sleep or punch a wall, whichever happened first. He pushed open the door of the house, expecting to find it quiet and dark as always. However, he was instead met with a sight he hadn’t prepared for. Y/N was sitting at the kitchen table in her pyjamas, dark purple bags under her eyes and a lit cigarette in her hand, the smoke curling upwards like some sort of twisted moth chasing the light.

Barry’s mouth opened and closed several times like a fish’s, trying to find something to say to his girlfriend. “Don’t fucking think about it, Barry.” Y/N said sharply, and his mouth closed fully as he searched for the trademark joy in Y/N’s eyes. All he could find was anger, an emotion he knew all too well.

“I’m not going to ask for an explanation, I just want to know something. Are you seeing someone else?” Y/N asked, taking a drag from her cigarette as Barry shook his head violently, taking a step closer to Y/N.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone else, Y/N. You know me.” He said, taking another step and reaching his hand out to rest on her arm, however she shook her head, taking another drag of the cigarette before speaking.

“Do I, Barry? Do I really know you, because the Barry I know wouldn’t come home at one in the fucking morning decked out in black, looking like he’s hiding something. Are you, Barry?” Y/N asked, her voice dropping to a deadly quiet as she asked the fatal question.

“Am I what?” He asked, though he knew deep down what she was asking him. He just didn’t want to face it.

“Are you hiding something from me?” Y/N said, putting her cigarette out on the kitchen table with a forceful hand. Barry refused to meet her eyes, his shoulders dropping in resignation. Y/N narrowed her eyes, biting her lip as she stood up.

“Fuck. I’m going to stay with Natalie for a while. Talk to me when you’re ready to grow up, Barry.” She said, storming past him to the door. Their eyes met briefly in the doorway, and Y/N had to look away to stop herself from crying.

She loved Barry with her whole heart, but he was clearly a different person to what he had showed her. There was something going on, and Y/N couldn’t be around him while he sorted that out. The door shut behind her and she wiped away tears as she pulled out her phone to call Natalie.

At the same time inside the house Barry pounded his fist into the kitchen table, crying out at the pain. “Fuck!” He yelled, slumping down into the chair Y/N was just in. 

He knew this was too good to be true, that it wouldn’t last. It was nothing more than a lengthy dream, pleasant and beautiful but finite. In a moment of nostalgia, he found himself going out to the garden. He stared at the black irises, remembering the day they had been planted… remembering how it was before what just happened.

In a way those flowers were all he had left of his time with Y/N. The flowers and all the memories, now slightly tainted by sadness like a sepia filter being applied to something that was once in colour.

He didn’t realise that he had stated crying until he could taste the salty tears on his own lips, and his hands rushed up to wipe them away. He longed to be back in Y/N’s arms, but instead he was alone in the garden, trying to find what was left of himself.

[writtenbylalaloverss]

The Iron Hearted Ruler Prologue

It was the beginning of the Summer season, when the most feared ruler fell in love. He wouldn't let people into his kingdom, only when there were parties or celebrations he felt like sharing. It wasn't until one night when he met her, she was a stunning royal woman. She wore a tight fitting ballgown that was colored in the most expensive and lavish (Color) fabrics, Diamond accents were sewn into the fabric to make it shine miles away. King Gajeel couldn't take his eyes off of her, he truly wanted her, she was going to be his queen.

Gajeel spent the rest of the night focused on her, trying to catch her gaze, which seemed to be everywhere but him. Getting annoyed he smiled as he walked over to her, gently tapping at her shoulder.

"Milady would you care to dance?" He asked her a large smile plastered on his face, something he never gives out freely.

"Oh yes, I take it you have some place else in mind? As the dance floor is quite full, Your Majesty" she replied.

"Oh yes, I do have a spot in mind. Now please hold my hand as I take us there"

Gajeel lead her to the outside balcony, which had two grand staircases attached to either side, leading into the massive garden.

"Your castle is quite large, you must get lonely here" (Name) spoke.

"Oh yes I do, but I tend to keep busy to avoid worrying about simple matters"

"Simple matters?"

"Like having a Queen, Don't get me wrong it's a dream to have someone to share this with but right now I need to focus on making sure everyone knows who the Black Steel Gajeel is"

"And who exactly is he?"

"He's someone who rules by force, Someone who won't cave when the pressure is too much. Someone who will remain strong"

"You must have quite the goal if you tend to live your life alone"

"I just have one goal, Everyone to either love me or fear me"

"Surely you've thought about your Queen, you must have women lined up left and right for you"

"I do but they hold no interest to me, I need to find myself someone who will understand that I have a goal and I will do everything to succeed my dreams. Though there's been this one woman that caught my eye tonight"

"Oh? Who must this mystery woman be?"

"Well, she's currently dancing with the kingdoms worst dancer, who keeps stepping on her toes. I apologize for that my dear"

"Oh? Well she's not that upset, he's quite the looker, despite not dancing to save his life" she teased.

"I must say, will I get to know your name?"

"I am (Lastname) (Name), Princess of the Floral Kingdom"

"Well Princess, what do you say wanna be my Queen?" Gajeel spoke with a shit eating grin on his face, as if what he just declared wasn't the most ridiculous request on earth.

"Your Highness! It's much to soon for that! You must talk to my Kingdom's Officials and propose the idea of you even possibly Courting me! Even then our courting is much different then yours, you must stay in my village for two weeks to prove to my father that you deserve my hand. My father then must put you through trials of trust, it's a long and hard process. Clearly I am not worthy of such love"

"Yes you, you are the most gorgeous woman here, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you the moment you walked through those doors, the way you presented yourself and even helped that one servant who tripped over their own two feet, brought warmth to my heart that I didn't even know existed, I truly do want to be your husband and I will take those trials on like the man you deserve. I will give you everything, you'll never need to lift a finger, you'll be the most loved and happiest queen in all the seven kingdom's combined. Just give me the night to prove it" he spoke, holding her hands and looking down into her eyes.

"Okay Gajeel, prove it tonight"

And that night he proved it to (Name), Two weeks later he left his kingdom in the hands of his most trusted right hand. He was in charge of making sure the kingdom was in one piece as Gajeel would return soon. Gajeel was in the carriage annoyed that he had to be stuck in for who knows how long, Gajeel and vehicles don't mix, he's known for getting sick. In fact most of the Seven rulers, tend to get sick durning it. Gajeel put on a brave face and tried his best to relax as his future wife was riding on his.

"Your Majesty we have arrived, I present you the Floral Kingdom" his driver announced and opens the doors.

Gajeel's eyes nearly popped out of his face, the Kingdom was covered with flowers. Flowers hanging on lampposts, in beautiful arrangements long the cobblestone pathways.

"Your Majesty If you will please follow me, the King and Queen gladly await your presence" a royal servant lead him towards the grand castle.

Upon entering Gajeel was blown away from the sight before him, his woman. (Name) was on the floor helping bathe Orphan children, well what he assumed to be orphans.

Gajeel watched as (Name) got dirty and helped the other maids wash and dry these children, giving them clean clothes and food.

"What's going on?" He asked the servant

"Oh you see princess (Name) has the most loving and loyal heart to her Kingdom, she isn't afraid to get dirty and help her village. She has the most kindest heart in the village, every man has fallen for her charms and wanted to court her but they actions weren't pure, so they failed the trials" the servant replied. "Now please come along, the King doesn't like to be kept waiting"

The servant lead Gajeel to the royal throne room, where the King and Queen of The Floral Kingdom sat graciously.

"Your Majesties I present you Gajeel Redfox, King of the Iron Kingdom" the servant announced and bowed before them, Gajeel also bowed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. Now it's to my understanding that you wish to court our daughter, the princess into a union of marriage?" The king spoke.

"Yes Your Majesty I wish to court you Daughter the Princess, with the hopes of marriage."

"What can you bring us if we agree to you courting her"

"I can bring you protection, I've noticed that you have a small army, with my most trusted men I can grant you a much larger army"

"Stop right there, we don't not wish to have an army, the men hired do quite the job. We simply wish to know why you are so different then the many suitors that failed before you"

"I promise to make her the most happiest woman, I vow to always love her and be there for her, never making her feel less my equal"

"When you say equal? What do you mean exactly?"

"I mean that she will be privy to all my royal affairs, her opinions will be greatly appreciated. She will be the most important person in my life, she'll never be second to anyone or anything"

"Hmm, well I must say that you do seem to care greatly for my daughter. Your first trial will be to help her bath those little orphans and then sparring our toughest knights-"

"Honey that's simply too much, just simply bathing the orphans and helping ease (Name)'s work load would be plenty for the first trial. I do hope you aren't afraid to get dirty"

The queen smiled as she shut up her husband. “Our servant will be able to guide you towards your room and help you change, I can assure you it’ll be much better to soil some regular clothes instead of your royal attire, my Husband has so graciously left some of his clothes for you to use”

Gajeel bowed and thanked both of them before following the servant to the guest corridors.

The room Gajeel was staying in was covered in a thick velvet red, the center of the room was the lush king sized bed. The bed was covered in a thick black and sliver covers. The servant started to help Gajeel strip and then change into simpler clothes, a puffy white shirt, and black bottoms.

“Please follow me and I’ll show you to the princess”

The walk towards her was making Gajeel’s heart beat faster then normal, he couldn’t understand why. He was falling more and more in love with the princess. Once he reached her he still smiled at her, she was still sitting in the center of the large room and was still washing the children.

“Princess, I am here to help you wash these children” he spoke as softly as he could not to scare the children.

“Oh King Gajeel, What a pleasant surprise. Can I Help you?” She spoke to him.

“Oh no? I’m supposed to be helping you, with these small children” he replied slightly more nervously.

“Oh okay, makes sense as to why you are wearing the kings old clothes, anyways grab a sponge and a child, and start scrubbing”

Gajeel followed her commands and started to follow her actions. After washing the twenty little children it was time to take them outside and have a small lunch. Gajeel was impressed with her kindness.

“So why do you do this?” He asked

“Well the orphanage doesn’t have the funds to care for all of them so I offered to bring them here to bathe and eat their fills until the caretakers come and get them after dinner” (Name) replied.

“I see, that’s really kind of you”

“I’m not some spoiled little princess, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. I hope that you can understand that”

“Of course, I’m not here to demand you change for me, I’m here to learn more about you, if I have to get dirty along side you I will”

The next two weeks went a blur, Gajeel was getting his hands dirty. Wether it was tending to the animals, working with villagers to solve the problems they faced, tending to the farmers market, helping the orphanage. Gajeel was being pulled every which way durning his stay. He hardly had time to be alone. Gajeel was being treated much different then any other village or kingdom he stayed at, it was like he was stripped of his tittle and was a peasant. Gajeel didn’t mind not having a royal status, it made him much more approachable towards the people of the village.

It wasn’t until the last day when the king requested a grand audience with the villagers.

“Thank you all for coming, I’m here to announce that someone has finally pasted my courting trials for my Daughters hand at marriage. Tonight we celebrate the union of Princess (Name) and King Gajeel. Meaning our sweet Princess will be leaving us to join her future husband in her new home, the Kingdom Of Iron. Tonight we celebrate the honor of our Princess and all she’s done for the village. Please enjoy yourselves tonight!” The king spoke and started to party.

The following day both Gajeel and (Name) both left for the Iron Kingdom, they picked up slight conversions along the way.

“So I know taking you away from your village hurts you, so I made a very large donation to the orphanage, I always paid for it to be fixed up, I’ll be sending some of my best carpenters to the village to start the reconstruction” he spoke.

“Thank you Gajeel, those children deserve the world”

The car ride was quiet and quick, Gajeel was eager to show (Name) the castle, the gardens, his royal courts, her room.

Three months later the wedding happened. Gajeel was waiting eagerly at the alter, The Kings from the surrounding kingdoms were in attendance. Gajeel stood proudly, dressed in all royal blue, he had gold accents along the center of his jacket and he had also worn a sliver bet. The chapel doors opened up at the marching band began to play. The little flower girl walked down the aisle first before (Name), she wore a lovely white ballgown with sliver and diamond accents, the sleeves and the chest piece was covered in lace. Her veil was also lace, she reached the alter and Gajeel took her hand.

“Now we are gathered here today to Honor and Join these two in holy matrimony, the couple had written their own vows, King Gajeel If you will”

“I, King Gajeel. Vow to always make you happy, to make sure you never shed a tear. To love and honor you, to always be your Iron beam to lean on, I will always be there to lighten the load. I want you to know that I love you and I will always cherish my Queen. You will always be my first priority. I will never hurt your feelings or do anything that will harm you, I will never let you go to sleep without being told I love you”

“Gajeel that was lovely, Princess?”

“I, Princess (Name), promise to be the best queen and wife to you. I may not always understand the work you may do but I vow to help your work load, I vow to make your life easier. I vow to be someone you can talk to and be honest with. I vow to always love you, I’ll never stray from you” (Name) spoke.

“You May kiss your bride”

The two shared a sweet and simple kiss before separating and walking down the aisle.

That night the whole kingdom celebrated the marriage of the King and Queen. Once the happy couple was alone, they enjoyed each other’s company and consummated their wedding night.

[ayma-nidiot]

In the White Light - Prideshipping fanfic Chapter 18

Also on AO3.

Author’s Note: This chapter is named in honour of an old Boueibu chat @queenofthefaces and I used to be a part of.

This chapter also features hints of Scandalshipping.

Chapter 18 – Big Ass Spider

Mahad returned from the infirmary, back to the court meeting currently taking place in the throne room. “Pharaoh, you’ll be glad to know that your companions have made it out of the Shadow Game alive and well. After they’ve recuperated, I’ll ask them about the foes they’ve faced.”

“Excellent work, Mahad,” Yami Yugi acknowledged as the High Priest sat back down.

Those fools actually survived a Shadow Game? Kaiba, who had reluctantly agreed to sit in on this meeting, tittered. I guess every dog has his day.

“So now that we’ve discussed everything we know so far about our enemy, what is our best course of action, pharaoh?” Isis asked.

“I want you and Mahad to stay and guard the palace while the rest of us move out.”

“A sound decision, Your Majesty,” Karim remarked. “Monster attacks on the palace have been rather scarce lately and have mostly been concentrated in the villages.”

 “Then I will send you and Shada with some of my forces to help protect the villagers. If you find the time, ask them for any information that may be useful to us. You have my permission to leave.”

“At once, Your Majesty.” With that Karim and Shada bowed before equipping themselves with their Millennium Items and DiaDhanks, and heading out the palace.

“But what of you, Priest Seto-”

“That’s Kaiba to you,” Kaiba corrected Mahad with a curt voice.

“My apologies… Er, what will you, Kaiba, and your companions do?”

“We will head out to Anubis’ chamber. Seeing as how he was one of our greatest enemies in the past, perhaps our new enemy is affiliated with him in some way. In fact, I’m almost certain that the zombies you’ve been seeing are getting revenge for their master.”

Kaiba knitted his brow at this announcement. “That… is a very dangerous idea, Yugi. Did the desert dry up your brains? Or are you that eager to repeat history?”

“I’ll have to agree with Kaiba,” spoke Isis. “It is possible that Anubis’ spirit may return and attack you again.”

“Not if they take two of our strongest soldiers.” Mahad called out into the hall, “Mana! Kisara! Your presence is requested in the throne room.”

“Your Eminence.” A young woman with long blue hair and plain beige robes presented herself.

“You called, Master?” A sprightly girl who looked just like Dark Magician Girl joined her. “Oh! Hello again, Pharaoh!”

“Dark Magician Girl! I’m so glad you’re all right after what happened on Atlantis.”

“Likewise, Your Majesty. I’m honoured to fight alongside you again, and on such an important mission, too. Oh, yeah, one more thing. In this world, call me Mana.”

Kaiba had nothing to say to Mana, and instead was more interested in the other young woman. She looks a lot like Maiden with Eyes of Blue!

It was then that this young woman noticed Kaiba staring at her. “Oh! Pardon me for not introducing myself properly. My name is Kisara and… well, we’ve technically met before.”

“I should say the same.” Kaiba took Maiden with Eyes of Blue out of his deck and showed it to her.

Mahad elaborated, “Kisara is the original owner of a powerful ka – or, as you call it in your world, monster – the Blue-Eyes White Dragon.”

“Then consider myself charmed.” Kaiba bowed before arising from the table. “Well, Yugi, if we’re going to go on this death mission, then let’s make it quick.”

“Hey, if rich boy is comin’, then so am I!” declared Joey.

“Figures… But you’re not riding on my back this time, Wheeler. Use your own damned dragon for once.” Kaiba turned to Mokuba.

“Ooh! Can I come?” Mokuba asked.

“Kaiba, I’m not sure taking people without Duel Disks is a good idea,” Yami Yugi warned. “I don’t want my friends to get hurt, and I’m sure you don’t want Mokuba to get hurt either.”

“Don’t you think we know that?” Tristan growled.

“I… I’m not afraid of zombies!” Téa spoke confidently. “We’ve faced them before! And don’t forget all the other trials we’ve been through… We’re tougher than you think, pharaoh.”

“Don’t worry, babe, I’m strong enough to protect us all.” Kaiba held Yami Yugi by the waist. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“My love, overconfidence is a deadly enemy. At least let me do my share of the protecting.”

“Oh my gods, guys, you can flirt after we’ve defeated Anubis’ zombies!” Joey already started running towards the palace exit and started flying on Red-Eyes Black Dragon with Tristan and Yugi. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

“You moron. You don’t even know where to find the damned place!” Kaiba shouted after him.

While the remaining people decided who would be riding with whom, Weevil overheard the conversation. Having just emerged from the infirmary, he made sure to stay out of sight. “Looks like Yugi and company are going to some creepy guy’s tomb to face some creepy zombies and get some awesome treasures! We better follow them!”

“Ohohoho, no. Not on your Perfectly Ultimate Great Moth, we’re not. Remember last time? We’re taking the Slash Dragon this time.” Rex summoned this monster.

“Fine, whatever. Just transform into that rabbit form of yours so we don’t blow our cover.”

“I… Um… Okay, I’ll try…” Rex concentrated all of his energy in his torso, but all that came out of it was a loud fart. “Sorry that I’m not cool like Kaiba. I can’t just transform into an animal the way he can.”

“I’ve noticed!” Weevil covered his nose for a few seconds. “Well, hun, you’re going to have to try again!”

“Since you’ve called me that, I’ll try once more for you, baby.” Rex winked before focusing again, and luckily for him, this transformation was successful. “Haha! See? Second time’s the charm. Now make sure you take care of my Duel Disk.”

“Yeah, yeah… Now hurry up before those lamebrains leave without us.” Weevil got onto the Red-Eyes Slash Dragon, and Rex hopped into his arms.

“Hmm…” Kisara closed her eyes, summoning the Blue-Eyes White Dragon - which she, Téa, and Mana promptly mounted.

“Impressive that you can summon one of my favourite monsters out of thin air!” Kaiba transformed into the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon. “But so can I.”

“Oh boy, oh boy!” Though Mokuba normally was mature for his age, he acted excited, despite the danger of the mission. “Finally, I get to go for a ride!”

“Come, I’ll help you up.” With that, Yami Yugi helped Mokuba and himself mount Kaiba’s back.

“Okay, Mokuba, it’s going to be quite a long ride. So you better hold on tight,” Kaiba advised when everyone had left the palace. “Both onto me and onto my Duel Disk.”

“You got it, bro!” Mokuba liked the breeze that greeted him as Kaiba took to the air. “Wow, what a view! The skyline is so pretty!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty, but don’t forget what we’re supposed to be looking for,” spoke Kaiba.

“Right, uh… Some stone building with a huge jackal statue in front of it.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I see it right there!” Mokuba pointed at the middle-of-nowhere building. “Wh-Whoa!”

When Kaiba had dived to the sand, and Mokuba had faceplanted, Kaiba sighed. “I told you to hang on tight… Now please don’t do anything unnecessary from here on out.”

“Got it,” Mokuba sheepishly replied after Kaiba turned into a human, and he gave him back his Duel Disk.

Kaiba noticed that Mokuba had stiffened up as the party walked deeper into the chamber. “You can talk, you know. Just don’t touch anything.”

“It’s much more elaborate than the last time we’ve visited,” Téa noted.

“And best part is, there aren’t any zombies!” exclaimed Tristan.

“Don’t jinx it, man…” Joey picked up a dagger. “Hey lookit, it’s the Dagger of Fate!”

“‘Last time?’” Téa’s remark intrigued Mana. “You mean you’ve been here before?”

“I’d rather not remember it…”

“You sure looked cool doing that double roundhouse kick, though!” Joey did a few air punches. “And so did the rest of us!”

“Yeah, you sure looked cool running away from the zombies.”

“Oh, stuff it, Tristan.”

Kaiba interrupted the silly talk. “That was around the time I summoned the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon and nearly kicked Yu- I mean, the pharaoh’s ass. How I still have the card after all that happened with Anubis – and how I can transform into said card – I wish I knew.”

“It’s like I told you during our first time travel, my love. Anubis cursed you after he died.”

“Huh…” Kisara’s voice sounded from even deeper in the chamber. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, pharaoh.”

“Did you find something?” Yami Yugi lead the other companions to this deeper part, which began to jog his memories. “This…”

“Babe?”

“This place… It’s where I heard… Priest Seto’s last words.” Yami Yugi trembled. He would have fallen to his knees, too, if Kaiba hadn’t held him tall.

Kaiba changed the subject. “So, Kisara, what did you find? …Great. Another giant rock. You can never get enough of them in ancient Egypt, can you? Let me guess, it displays some kind of ‘epic’ battle? Or some other occult nonsense?”

“I don’t know how you can utter that overused phrase of yours after all that’s happened.” Yami Yugi stepped forward to get a better look at the giant stone tablet. The dragon in the middle, which took up nearly half of the tablet’s space, was the first thing to catch his attention. “This tablet looks just like the one I keep at the palace.”

“Guess again, pharaoh.” Kaiba pointed at the only two other pictures on the tablet – a small rabbit and a large spider. “I remember that giant rock well, and it certainly didn’t have a big ass spider on it. Now then…”

“Kaiba?” Kisara looked concerned as Kaiba reached for the sapphire on the Shining Dragon’s head.

“Will you tell me what I want to know?” Kaiba let the powers of this tablet take him and his companions into a vision quest.

“And to think, you didn’t believe in ‘occult nonsense.’”

“Wheeler, if there was a perfect time to shut up, it’s now. Or really any time you think of opening your mouth.”

“Why you…”

“No, Kaiba’s right. Look at who’s here! It’s Anubis!” Mana pointed at a man with messy long blond hair, a cape, and a teal jewel in the middle of his forehead.

Yami Yugi looked at the elderly man standing next to Anubis. He bore the Millennium Eye and wore nothing but flowing white robes. “So… So, it’s true. Aknadin really was Anubis’ accomplice.”

“Tch!” Anubis, clearly displeased at his latest creation, crushed it and sent it into a ball of shadows. “Yet another weak monster! Perhaps using just servants of the Thief King aren’t enough… I have to find the scumbag himself. Maybe then I can stop conjuring things like mere rabbits.”

“If I may?” Aknadin spoke up. In his right hand, he held up a young man – bound and gagged – by the collar. “If we can’t transform the left hand of the Thief King into something powerful, then maybe the right hand will work.”

“I suppose he will have to suffice for the time being…” Anubis sighed as Aknadin threw the young man in front of him.

“Mmmph!” The young man whimpered loudly as eight spider’s legs sprouted from his body, and his form changed.

“Yes…” Anubis admired the black and red spider that towered over him, and the four Red-Eyes Black Dragons it killed. “Finally, a monster that can defeat Aknamkanon!”

“Are you really sure?” Aknadin pointed at this monster that faded as soon as it attacked.

“No… No! What could have been wrong this time?!”

“I’ve heard that certain monsters require certain spells in order to survive. Such may have been the case with this one.”

“Then that’s the last time I’ve tried an experiment using foreign techniques… I’ll have to use Egyptian magic that can rival the Pharaoh’s Incantation. In fact… Speaking of the Pharaoh’s Incantation… Hahahaha!”

“That’s… so disgusting!” Téa started crying. “So Anubis used to perform experiments transforming humans into monsters?”

“Guys, it looks like it’s time for a scene change,” Tristan noted as the vision quest abruptly changed scenes – this time, to the throne room.

“That dickweed looks a lot like Kaiba! Let me at ‘im!” Joey tried to “swim” over to where Priest Seto stood, but only flailed about midair.

“Wheeler, just shut up and watch.” Kaiba looked to the elderly man who knelt in pain.

“What’s… happening to me?!” The elderly man could feel his time at an end, and it scared him to not know why.

“Pharaoh Aknamkanon!” Priest Seto knelt down, trying in vain to invoke the power of the Millennium Rod. “No! Don’t go!”

“S-Seto…” Aknamkanon’s soul began to fade into the shadows. “Can I see you… smile for me… one last time? One more smile… before I go?”

“Pharaoh… I… I’m a sorry excuse of a High Priest… Aaaaargh!” Seto threw the Millennium Rod at the wall, nearly breaking it in a fit of rage. “Father… Just you wait, I’m coming for you!”

Tristan asked, “What… the hell was that about?”

The scene changed yet again to Anubis’ chamber, and Kaiba responded, “Do you guys always talk during the movie?”

“Hahahaha!” Anubis held up an object that resembled the Millennium Puzzle. “With this, the Pyramid of Light, there will be no failures in my experiments any longer!”

“Then what will your next experiment look like?”

No sooner had Aknadin asked this question when an intruder made his presence known in the middle of the chamber. “Father! I should have known that you have allied yourself with Anubis!”

“Hmm… I think we’re about to find out what my next experiment will be. Aknadin, as you know, those in the royal family carry the blood of the Creator. As such, I believe they’ll serve as perfect vessels for an all-powerful monster!”

“As amazing as that sounds, I do not wish to risk my own life for your experiment.” Aknadin gave his son a sly smile. “But I willingly offer my son. Do with him what you will.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Hey!” Seto couldn’t resist the zombie army that swarmed and bound him. “Father! You fucking traitor!”

“Hehehehe…” Anubis held the Pyramid of Light in the air. “O most blessed goddess, our Creator of Light! I present to you the Pyramid of Light, crafted from the very ba of Pharaoh Aknamkanon himself! I ask you to infuse your ka with the ba of His Highness Priest Seto! Make him into a monster that can rival even the gods themselves!”

“Oh my gods…” Seto watched as his skin became aglow, and the zombies’ grip on him became even more painful. “Aaaaaargh!”

“Irot ow et on ekaoy… Edam ih ukatabah ukakat!” This dark incantation gave Seto the fuel to complete his transformation. “Arise, Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon!”

“Graaaaar!” Seto easily killed the zombies that bound him, but before he could motion to kill Anubis and Aknadin, the former uttered more words of the Dark Incantation.

“With these words from my lips, you have no choice but to obey my every command! Now go! Show the common people just who rules this land!”

“I’ll have to thank you.” Aknadin started to pack his things, with the intention of returning to the palace. “You have made me the father of a god!”

“…Wait. Stay silent.” Anubis heard light footsteps coming from the chamber entrance. Soon after, a singing voice followed. “No! It cannot be! How is the pharaoh still alive?”

“Look again, Anubis! It’s not Aknamkanon that stands before you…” The Millennium Pendant was now in Aknadin’s sights. “It’s his son! He’s using the Pharaoh’s Incantation!”

“Impossible!” Anubis watched as Seto turned back into a human. “Not even Priest Mahad had been able to separate his ba from the ka of his monster! …Wait, Aknadin, where are you going?”

“Anywhere is better than here! If the new pharaoh is to execute you, then I’m not letting him take me down with you!”

With that, Aknadin fled the scene right before Mahad and Isis stormed in. The vision quest now panned to the desert just outside the chamber, with Seto staring down an unfamiliar enemy.

“So… That’s how it happened…” Yami Yugi felt a tear run down his cheek. “Father… Anubis killed him!”

“I’m shocked too, babe.” Kaiba wrapped a quivering arm around Yami Yugi’s shoulders. “But there’s still more to see.”

“Yuck! That guy’s got a dragon head for a dick.” Tristan’s remark elicited a light slap to the face from Téa.

“Huh.” The enemy unfurled his purple wings as he towered over Seto. “I was under the impression that I would be facing the pharaoh. But all that I see is a priest who was too dimwitted to bring his Millennium Item to battle.”

“I don’t need the Millennium Rod this day,” Seto declared. “For you see, I am a weapon unto myself. Zorc! Your reign of terror will end today!”

“Hahaha! You really think so, boy?”

“Hah!” Seto jumped onto the base of the building and climbed it. When he reached the top, he jumped off, transforming into the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon without freefalling. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do. You cannot defeat the power of the gods!”

“You? Power of the gods?” Zorc shot a Zorc Inferno in Seto’s direction to counter the Shining Neutron Blast coming at him. “Don’t make me laugh!”

After many more exchanges of attacks, Seto spoke, “I’ll give you credit for one thing. Of any foe we of the royal court have faced, you are the strongest.”

“Flattery isn’t going to save you – or your precious pharaoh for that matter! Why don’t I remind you?” Zorc suddenly vanished.

“Damn…” Seto tried in vain to look for Zorc. Instead, the Dark One found him, making his presence known with a sharp Zorc Inferno to the back. “Urgh…”

Zorc was pleased to see Seto barely managing to remain airborne. “You must realize that you cannot defeat me! Though in my final act of mercy, I’ll spare your life if you give me the pharaoh.”

“No! I refuse to give you the man I love more than anything!” Seto closed his eyes as his body glowed a light blue.

“Then you’ll- Huh?”

“I’m sorry, my love… But I really will be taking my love for you before Osiris.” Seto shed one last tear before launching himself at Zorc full force. “Shining Nova!”

“Argh! Damn you… Horakhty…” So were Zorc’s last words as Seto’s lifeless body fell to the sand.

Joey felt as if he were being sucked into a vacuum. “Whoa, man! I think the movie is ending, you guys!”

“I… I…” Before Yami Yugi could truly process what he had just seen, the surroundings became fuzzy. Soon, he and his companions were brought back to reality.

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 8

Her body against his, her voice, her breath on his lips, her long, strong fingers in his hair, the press of her warm, warm, oh so warm and probably wetter than hell oh fuck center against his hard, hard, oh how fucking hard so hard it hurts cock, her words, oh Christ. Her words, her flesh, everything about her, everything Joline had wiped his mind clear away, sent his brain to that limbic, primal place, that place where every axon and dendrite of his frontal lobe was shut down in favour of those few centimeters of brain matter that controlled his animal, sexual self.

Those few centimeters that, although it had been well exercised, turned over on occasion over the past few years - casual encounter after casual encounter, fuck after fuck - it had not been as jumpstarted and shocked to life as it was in that moment for quite some time.

And oh, it felt so good. So good. So incredibly good.

And thus, it nearly killed Ansgar to shut it down, to push her away. He felt a part of himself, and not just his cock, but probably those very few centimeters of white brain matter themselves, shrivel up as he stiffened in her arms. With an annoyed growl, he wrenched his head away from her oral explorations. He clutched her hard by the arms and shoved her heat off of his, stepping purposefully out of her embrace.

Fucking hell fucking hell!!! Why? Why now? Fucking Joline Fucking Lindberg why do you have to do this?

“What?” she protested. “What is wrong with you?”

Ansgar took a long, steady breath through flared nostrils, as he peered, heavy-eyed down his long, regal nose at her. He let his arms fall to their sides and stood taller, his shoulders rigid, his head tipped slightly back. “I will give you one chance, Froken Lindberg….”

“Oh, it’s back to Froken Lindberg now, is it?”

He continued, ignoring her interjection. He lifted a finger instructively. “I will give you one chance to take that back.” Before she could speak again, he continued, raising his voice slightly, but still keeping his tone even, low… dangerous. “I told you I was very good at compartmentalizing,” he said. “Separating business from pleasure. I will tell you right now, Froken Lindberg, that I don’t brook threats or ultimatums in business, and I certainly do not in pleasure either.”

She stared at him, narrow-eyed, and furrow-browed.

“So,” he tipped his head slightly back and quirked a half-smile that did not reach his blazing eyes. “You will take that back.” He looked around the park before bending closer to her, his eyes hardening, the fire within alchemizing them from human sclera into layers of onyx over star sapphire over veined white marble. “You see, I can have any woman I want,” he growled. “Any.”

“Then go get one,” she responded, petulantly, her hands on her hips. Ansgar couldn’t help but notice the shake in her voice and the tremors in her hands… tremors to match the ones vibrating the flesh of his own clenched fists, those he was trying desperately to hide. Her discomfiture, her anger made itself known especially as she pointed to a woman jogging on the nearby path. “Go get her, Casa-fucking-nova. Get that one. Go on. Let me see you. Let me see how you work, lover boy.”

“I don’t want her,” Ansgar seethed, his words a sharp point. “But, as much as I want you, and you know I want you, I will not have you…. Will not,” he corrected, “give myself to you under threat, or under terms that I don’t agree to.”

She squinted at him. “How long as it been?”

“How long has what been?” He shook his head, confused.

“Since she did a runner on you? Your wife?”

Ansgar took a long, harsh breath through his nose. “Two years,” he clipped.

“Then… why do you keep wearing it?”

“I’ve my reasons,” he said.

“Which are?”

He said nothing, but simply stared at her, blinking, swallowing. The words on the edge of his tongue felt thick and heavy, stuck in place.

Because my investors have no idea what’s happened to me.

Because it reminds me of my failures. Because it reminds me that I do not want to fall in love again. Because it… because it gives me security. Because it reminds me of happier times in my life. Because it grounds me. Because it’s helped me move on. Because it’s kept me from doing away with my own life. Because it reminds me that someone, at some time, once… did love me, did truly love me for who I was… or so I’d thought.

“I can’t say.”

“You mean you won’t say,” she corrected.

“Semantics.”

“Fine.” She lifted her chin in defiance and shrugged. “No ring, no me.”

Ansgar stilled, allowing his mask - that old, familiar mask - settle into place. “Fine,” he echoed, at last. He dug into his jacket pocket and with thumb and forefinger fished out the keys to her motorbike. He dangled them in the space between them. “Hold out your hand,” he instructed, as if to a child.

She did as he said, her movements almost automatic.

He dropped the keys into her palm, holding his hand open for a moment before making a fist and bringing it slowly back down to his side. “Go to work, Froken Lindberg,” he droned. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock anyway, you shouldn’t be late, it’s unprofessional.” His expression shifted yet again, the mask taking on the visage of a small, businesslike smile. “I shall see you at nine tomorrow morning at the opera house, and then we have a meeting at ten to go over the preliminary plans for the gala. You should have those calendar entries in your inbox. I suggest you accept them before my assistant pesters you. She can be very persistent, you know.”

She swallowed. “Ansgar – “

“Go to work,” he repeated. “And make sure you’re there for our meetings tomorrow. You don’t want to be in breach of your contract. No, I don’t believe you do. You wouldn’t want me to pull our funding for the gala now, would you?” And with that said, he turned on his heel and strode back toward her bike to retrieve his helmet.

“Is that a threat, Martinsson?”

Ansgar stopped and turned. “No. Unlike you I don’t make threats,” he clipped. “As I said, I compartmentalize. Simply because this,” he gestured between them “doesn’t work out on a personal level, does not mean that we can’t do business together. As I also said, I expect you to take our business together seriously, and if you can’t do that, then we simply won’t do business together anymore. I am not and will not equate one with the other, am I clear?”

“Ansgar, I – “

“Am I clear?”

She nodded, and he did the same, his movements crisp and clear and short. “Very well then. I shall see you tomorrow.” He turned once again and stepped away, reaching her bike in a few long strides and lifting his helmet from the seat.

“Hey! How will you get back?” She called after him.

He hitched his helmet under his arm and continued toward the park’s entrance. He waved his phone in the air as he called over his shoulder. “I’ll walk!”

After a long night of frustration, her vibrator barely satisfying the ache Ansgar awakened in her with a kiss, Joline rolled into work the next morning early, coffee in hand. She didn’t go in early because he ordered it. Despite what he told her to, she actually needed the quiet before the crew reported to work to review some of the logs and plans.

When she arrived at work the day before, after her argument with Ansgar, she got swept up in other things, too many other things to sit with the design plans. She had a tourist group come through to take a tour of the building like they did every day at noon. Anna, Joline’s regular guide, called out with car trouble, so Jo filled in as tour guide. A monumental task it was, imparting facts and figures on the history of the building to a group of semi-interested tourists while her body felt strung out on hormones, arousal and utter frustration.

As the day progressed, her attention was needed on other tasks (booking a traveling musician whose producers couldn’t decide on terms of service to organizing a workshop for some of the grade schools interested in learning how a professional theatre was run), her own personal frustration grew. Without warning, a flash of Ansgar would flit through her mind. The whiskers of his goatee against her lips. The smell of his leathers. The sexy roughened tone of his voice when he said her name in desire. The expert control he held over his toned body. The stiff insistent press of his erection when he held her.

Inevitably, the crushing disappointment that he wouldn’t be the one to experience her next orgasm with her… it sucked! She hated that she wasn’t destined for his bed, that he couldn’t see clear to treat her as an equal… to leave his baggage aside so they could be free to enjoy the hell out of each other.

When she got home that night, she checked on her mother before going to bed without dinner to spend a few hours with her vibrator. To find some relief from an Ansgar-less orgasm… and yet her mind brought him into it with every climax, every clench, every spasm. His tongue, his need, his want to search her for other tastes and tats. Christ!

Hours before any of her backstage crew arrived, Joline alone unearthed a long rectangular rehearsal table from the back of the workshop and moved it out on stage. She spread out the maps and plans from the previous productions to compare to the current set up. Harold offered to help, of course, but without a body there wasn’t much he could do. She was still pouring over it when the first of her crew arrived.

“Jojo-bean,” Georg called from the back of the house. “You bend over again like that, those sprinklers are going to go off. The heat, woman!”

Jo had been bending to stretch across the table to grab the La Boheme plans when she heard his call. She laughed wiggling her arse in his direction, “Have I fired you yet this week?”

Georg, her brother Elias’ best friend from the age of seven, bounded down the aisle. Their relationship had always been less than formal since they too grew up together. “Twice! But don’t let that stop ya. The sound designers have a pool going. Do ya think you’ll make it to seven this week?”

“Give me reason,” she greeted him with a hug, waving to other members of the crew walking down the aisle to the stage.

“How’s mama?”

“Some days are better than others.”

“Whatcha doin’ here?” Georg gestured to the piles of papers, plans and logs.

“Some reps from Martinsson Construction are coming in today to start repairs. I got things out for them to refer to if they need it.”

Georg whistled, “How did you finally pull that off?”

Jo winked, gathering some of the papers she needed to go back to her office. “I can be very persuasive when given the right opportunity. Listen, I need you in here today,” she said lowering her voice. “I have a meeting with one of the executives about the gala and I need you to be my eyes and ears out here, yeah?”

“Of course. Who’d ya land the meeting with, Jojo-bean?”

“Ansgar Martinsson, so everyone needs to be on their best behavior.”

Georg whistled again to give due credit. “CEO. You better go on home then… can’t have the likes of you here.”

Jo turned towards her office, wishing she could, run along home.

*~*~*~*~*~

Anger seethed through her veins as much as it did the day before when she mounted her bike in the park. Feeling every bit the jilted lover, she slammed the kickstand, revved the engine, applied the gas and took off like a rocket, gravel kicked up behind her. She’d spotted Herr Martinsson walking proudly down the main drive into the park. She toyed with the idea of running him over. Unfortunately she knew that she needed him: the gala, the repairs, the little theatre, the commission.

He’d tied her to him, and suddenly the partnership felt more like a sentence than the blessing that she originally thought it to be. Of course, she didn’t have throw herself at him.

When did a casual hookup become so complicated? Was it too much to ask that the man be completely into her before she hopped into bed with him? If in his mind, Herr Martinsson was still married, then to Joline, he was off limits. She wanted to fuck him, but that band on his finger represented that he should be fucking another. She couldn’t stomach it; she wanted someone without obligation to end her sexual frustration.

As she attempted to listen to her voicemails, she recalled what she felt as she sped along the motorway. Her body hummed with Ansgar’s kiss, his passion awakened a sexual appetite she’d never known before. Because of her distraction, she hadn’t heard any of her voicemails, her professional self slow to get to work.

She did, however, pull her shit together by the time the man himself entered her office at the appropriate time. “Herr Martinsson,” she said, rising from her computer chair with a quarter turn. “Thank you for coming.” She offered her hand to shake.

He clipped, “Froken Lindberg.” That was all she got with a stiff handshake.

“Please… do come in. I thought my office would be the best to review the details of the gala.” She tied her hair up in a messy ponytail at the top of her head, stepping around to desk. “I did bring some of the plans from previous productions, for your crew. My staff are in for your direction.”

“The preparation is appreciated,” he intoned flatly, his eyes never leaving her.

“I brought a laptop in for your use,” she waved to the device on her desk across from her that she’d loaded with the schedules. “It’s already signed into wifi. Can I get you anything before we get started? Coffee? Tea? Water? Juice?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shed his blazer, and hung it over the back of the computer chair that Jo pointed to for his use. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his white button down with a precision of discipline, and preceded to roll them up to the elbows one by one.

Jo didn’t crawl across her desk, but the thought occurred to her when she saw more skin of the man who had haunted her thoughts. She cleared her throat, plopping down into her chair, toying with her mouse to wake her desktop. “Please tell me where you’d like to begin.”

“New Years’ Eve.”

“What about New Years’ Eve?” she frowned.

“We are going to move the date of the Gala to New Years’ Eve. December 31 of this year. We would sell more tickets, that’s certain. Raise more funds.” He fished into his briefcase and fetched out a MacBook Pro. He crossed to the table beside the window, cleared off an area, and set the computer down, opening it with a flourish. “Let’s start with the scheduling, shall we? I’ve taken your calendars….”

She blinked, slightly shell-shocked. “How did you get my….?”

He interrupted, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ve taken your calendars and modified them slightly. They were excellent the way they were, but we needed some additions with the new date. I set the list of priorities, and provided you with a delegation system for both your employees and mine, as well as a number of outside vendors from my approved list. The work will proceed as planned on the repairs, those should be done within the month. If we follow this course, we will be ready to go by December 30. I’ve already set my event staff on some of these… ah… tasks.”

He cringed inwardly at the small slip in his decorum, but he couldn’t help it. And here it had been so good so far. Even the removal of his jacket had been pain-free. But, as he twisted his torso, the battered muscles around his ribs caught, tightened, and screamed in protest. He rubbed at them, all the while skilfully keeping the mask of businesslike ennui on his face.

For the most part…

She noticed. Of course she’d notice.

She frowned. “You get mugged on your little walk home, or something?”

He rolled his eyes and peered side-eyed at her. “No,” he rest on the edge of the table, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. Yet, he kept his back straight, his shoulders square - damned if he would let her see his pain. “I went to the gym. It’s near the observatory. After that, my driver took me back to Sturekatten where I picked up my Tesla.”

“Oh. Your driver,” she teased.

“Yes,” he replied. “My driver.”

She swiveled her chair. “Wow. You have your very own driver,” she mocked. “I guess I never pegged you for the spoilt executive type, Mister Rockefeller.”

Ansgar gave her a wilting look. “It’s for risk management purposes,” he said. “Liability, safety, and all that. Prevention of exposure to the company should there be an accident involving the CEO. But yes, it can be quite… convenient at times. But you mustn’t concern yourself with that.” He gave her a throwaway gesture, and the movement made his side flare once again. He winced slightly, and sucked a small amount of air in through his teeth.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “Nothing is wrong with me.”

“Obviously there is something wrong with you. You’re hissing like an angry cat.” She stood and stepped around her desk to stand before him. Like him, she rested her arse on the edge and crossed her legs beneath her.

“I am not hissing,” he protested.

“Yeah, you are,” she nodded, her eyebrows raised. “What exactly were you doing at the gym?”

“Ring fighting,” he clipped. He dropped his hands and rest them on the edge of the table, relieving some of the pressure on his torso. “Muay Thai, if you must know.”

“Against someone else?”

“Yes. Of course I fought against someone else. How else would you do it?”

“Apparently that someone else was better than you.” she teased.

“No,” he snarled. “He was not better than me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then… what happened?”

“Nothing happened.” He spoke through clenched teeth and a plastered smile, his eyes flaring with sardonic annoyance.

“You got knocked on your arse, didn’t you?” She quirked a satisfied grin as she reached up and adjusted her ponytail. “Yeah, I’ll bet you did.”

Damn her.

He sighed and fixed her with a long, minatory glare.

Yes, I did. All right? I took a thrusting front kick square in the ribs. I didn’t block. I didn’t dodge. I went down howling, okay? My body is streaked black and blue like a Picasso painting and it still hurts like a mother fuck.

Why?

Because I let my guard down. Because my cock was pounding like a freight train in my shorts. Because I kept imagining you riding on it, your flesh around it. Because my lips still throbbed from your lips. Because I fought like a mindless berserker with trying to forget you. Because I’m a stubborn bastard. Because I’m a fucking idiot…

… Because I want you and I can’t get you off my God damn mind, Joline!

Are you happy now?

“Is this conversation absolutely necessary? No, I don’t believe it is.” He rose from the table and pointed at the computer. “We’ve some very tight deadlines to meet if we’re to make this gala the success you want it to be.”

Joline ignored his diversionary distraction, the opportunity to bust his balls about having his ass handed to him too rich. It was too good, and in her estimation warranted. “So this gym… I’m assuming that you pay them, yes?”

Ansgar almost… pouted when he hadn’t sidetracked her. She couldn’t know that he went to blow off steam because of her. “My trainer is paid very well for his services, if you must know.”

She nodded, tucking her lips between her teeth to hide her glee. She pushed off the table and damn-near skipped back to her desk. She’d tried to keep it professional but he presented it, laid it at her feet and she couldn’t resist. “Could’ve saved yourself some money, I would’ve done it myself for free. I mean… I already had a head start.”

Clearly, he didn’t approve. He scowled and stared her down into her chair behind her desk. “I trust and pay the professionals.” His emphasis abundantly clear.

Her glee instantly turned to hatred. This was her sentence. She’d signed the papers to work with him, and she’d stepped in the shit when she tried to seduce him. Doomed. And yet, she still found him so fucking sexy, and she hated herself for it. She still craved him, drawn to him, could barely resist him.

Her office walls closed in on her, an oppressive atmosphere with his massive presence in the room. Her office was in the oldest part of the building, near the little theatre. It had once been a detention center for criminals awaiting trial in the 1880s before it was converted into a public space for assemblies before opening as a theatre in 1898. It was more a prison, her own personal hell.

He’d picked at the one wound that hurt the most, which stung her deeply, out of all the things he’d said. He implied more than once that she was less than professional, and yet he’d invited it. He’d demanded it of her to use against her when he was pissed off.

“Fine, Herr Martinsson,” she slammed her finger on the mouse, startling her computer from its screensaver. She turned her attention to the altered plans for the gala and her stolen and retooled schedules. All that had been her baby, her celebration for the new season. Again, she felt like she’d failed. “May I call you a pig-headed terrorist?”

“No, you may not.” He got to her and he knew he had.

“Please explain how a soiree for the season opener, in other words, the gala, has been moved four months into the season,” Jo sat erect in her chair, ready to argue her point. “It’s meant to encourage season ticket holders to pledge more money and become sponsors.”

Ansgar didn’t let his oversight trip him up or Jo’s withering look put him off. “We’ll plan something better for the opening… a black tie and gown event. But the gala on New Year’s Eve makes more sense for filtering funds to the little theatre, that’s when we’ll need more money coming in.” He sent her a skype message to show her the budgetary needs for the renovations. “Take a look.” He nodded at her screen.

Jo pulled and tugged at her hair sticking out the top of her head. A pineapple, she thought to herself, I must look like a pineapple with all the sticking out branches. Through her silly bout with self-consciousness, she accepted the message and reviewed the spreadsheet from Ansgar G Martinsson. She sighed in concession, “Very well. But you just gave me a mountainous amount of work to do to get this new event planned in less than four weeks.”

He was about to remind her that he was there to help, that he’d lend a hand and his people. Just as he opened his mouth to do so—

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

A massive sharp sound ripped through her office from above.

Then a thunder crash boomed.

Ansgar shot to his feet, staring at the ceiling, “What the fuck—?”

Jo plowed through the door to her office, banging the door against the corridor. She starred at the ceiling too, training her ears to listen.

What sounded like bugs running along the steel piping trickled from above. It rolled over her head towards the little theatre at the end of the corridor.

Ansgar stood behind her, his face too turned to the ceiling. “What the hell is that?”

“You tell me, Mister Engineer,” she griped, following the sound.

He let her have that one. He’d made her feel like shit about her job twice already. He gave her that one.

At first her steps were slow, but as she got further down the sculpted marble hallway, she jogged until she full out ran. The sound got louder the further along, when the rain came. The sprinkler in the hall clicked on and water sprayed from above.

“SHIT!!!!!” Jo flung the double doors to the little theatre open. What she found, chaos, complete and total destruction. A large pipe dangled from the ceiling, a distressed break at least a foot long dumped gallons of water into the seats. Water ran down all sides as she peered in. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

Fast on his feet, Ansgar dialed emergency responders, barking orders and directions in Swedish.

Jo screamed over him, “I know where the valve shut off is!”

“JOLINE, NO!!!!”

But it was too late, she sprinted down the aisle, splooshing water as she went.

“There are unions for that!!!”

Jo couldn’t listen. She had to stop that destruction. She couldn’t wait; there was no time for that. She catapulted onto the stage, taking a flying leap from the arm of a chair in the audience, springing forward. She landed on her feet and didn’t lose a beat in navigating her way through the backstage to the valve to shut off the water.

The large shut off valve measured about a foot wide and Jo dove at it, throwing her entire body weight into shutting it off. She strained and struggled, the thing barely moving with all the effort she put into it. “DAMN YOU!!!” she panted. “MOVE!”

The thing didn’t budge after one squeak to the right, she almost felt like crying, something she didn’t do. Then she felt him, Ansgar had followed her. He lined his body with hers, his arms cocooning her body, his hands framing hers on the wheel. Together they managed to get the damned thing to rotate and the seemingly endless waterfalls finally stopped.

The echo of the destruction froze them in place, running water gushing off the stage. Jo couldn’t move, afraid to look, petrified to see. And yet, Ansgar was there, pressed against her back, just standing with her, drenched to the skin as she was.

As the events of the last few minutes settled over her, she turned to him. She didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, but pulled him into a fervent kiss of gratitude, of longing, of attraction.

Because he had been there for her when she needed it most.

[alma-berry]

Kit’s Secret Fire Message # 12

Masterlist   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

The main hall of the London institute was crowded, Ty suspected, in an unusual way. For an institute as nearly vacated as it was, one could expect some enthusiasm from his permanent residents, but even he knew better. He remembered the perpetually sour look on Evelyn Highsmith’s face from when he and his family had stayed here, and from the looks of it, it hadn’t changed. 

Breakfast was a buzz of excitement and chattering voices from his fellow Centurions, mainly thanks to the occurrence of the night before. Kit’s name was mentioned over and over, making Ty’s stomach flip each and every time with its own kind of excitement. Though Kit’s absence was noticed, no one but Ty really expected him to show. Having been injured and visited by the silent brothers, they all seemed convinced he was still resting in his room. Only Ty had heard his music in the smallest hours of the night, pirouetted through the darkness like a wisp of smoke on ice. Only he had read Kit’s words, “It was only you”.

He longed to see him, and feared it. What was he to say? A simple hello seemed so little.. he wanted to feel the warmth of his skin against his, to hear the fastened beating of his heart and to know, most of all, to know beyond a doubt, that he was safe. 

“Blackthorn! By the angel, stop daydreaming and pay attention!” The irritated voice of Carl Lindquist made Ty flinch, and he cursed himself inwardly for losing focus in front of the others. Carl, in particular, would use any excuse he could to scold him. Ty knew what lay behind his petty behavior, he could see the greedy way the centurion looked at him when he thought he didn’t notice.. but he had no idea what he was supposed to do with that information, other than not encourage him.

“We have twenty minutes to get ready and then we head out” Oscar eyed him with a patronizing glare. Ty and the others had agreed they should look the old warehouse for more clues about the meaning of the attack. The thought of leaving without seeing Kit made him feel uneasy, but Ty knew the importance of this investigation, and nodded in agreement as he went towards the main staircase. 

When he climbed the first step, a sound rippled through the air and Ty turned to see a portal shimmering bright in the center of the hall. Not a second later, a large, threatening shape had leaped at him, pinning him to the ground with a low growl. 

“Irene!” Ty called with astonishment, and lifted himself to his knees. He reached out and took her into his arms, running his fingers through the thick, silky fur of the lynx, relishing on the familiar softness of her. From above him, came the stern voice of Catarina Loss.

“Tiberius, I came here on a serious expedition. You see, I would appreciate it if some of my other students will be allowed to keep their limbs intact for the rest of the year, I’m sure you won’t object.” She loomed over him in all of her blue regalia, and gave him that piercing look she always had when she was trying hard not to make comments of other people’s intellect. Naturally, that look wasn’t often directed to Ty.

“Oh, and I promised young Mr. Anush that I would assure you of his relentless attempts to sedate you feline friend, or at least to keep her in your room. But alas, Anush is rather prone to hysteria, as you may know, and he did not take her constant snarling well.. thus, our current presence.” 

Catarina paused for a second, and Ty had a feeling he was expected to make a comment of sorts, but when he hadn’t, she continued.

“Rest assured I will be informing dear Anush of your eternal gratitude, Mr. Blackthorn? The poor boy was terribly crossed with the idea of disappointing you.” 

Oh, Ty realized this was when he was supposed to say thank you. It wasn’t that he took his friend for granted, it was just that he was so utterly surprised.  He hurried to correct his mistakes, “Yes, thank him for me. And thank you as well, Ms. Loss, for bringing Irene to me.”

She gave him a sweet smile and waved her hand in dismissal, when her eyes paused, narrowed on something behind him.

“Ah! I was wondering when I’ll be seeing your dashing face”

Ty turned his head as a laugh, light and warm as sunlight rang into his chest.

“As soon as I heard your voice, Catarina. I couldn’t miss a visit from my third favorite warlock.”

Kit was standing in the middle the staircase, his smile radiant. Ty felt his breath orphaned on his lips, and the quick succession of his heart almost hurt.

“Third? Second I understand, with your adoptive mother and all.. but are you telling me you prefer the company of Magnus Bane to mine?”

Catarina glared at him with obvious suspicion. 

“Of course not. I meant Gandalf.”

The others were looking back and forth between Kit and the Catarina like they were watching a tennis match, which is another one of those mundane sports Ty never understood. It was probably that they were amazed by the familiarity between the two, or they were more likely confused by the mention of a fictional wizard. 

Ty didn’t notice any of that, he only saw Kit’s blue eyes, alive and pulsating like the shimmering surface of the ocean, right when the sun is at its highest point. He was unable to look away, even when Kit’s gaze fixed on his, pupils slightly dilated, their blue deepening with emotion obvious even to him.

“Well, as much as you’re all lovely to look at, I have other lazy Nephilim to attend to” Ty heard Catarina’s voice as if from a distance. 

He was still locking eyes with Kit, even while the portal gleamed shut at the corner of his eye. 

Usually, direct eye contact was something Ty would do with an effort, but that wasn’t the case.. he just couldn’t look away, and it was too much, far too much. 

Kit came down the steps and stopped mid way, still a safe distance between them. He looked to Ty’s feet, his eyes widened for a split second, and Ty could feel Irene’s body tense next to him, sensing the approach of a stranger.

Everyone in the room fell silent, acknowledging the potential of danger. Ty wanted to assure Kit that Irene would not hurt him, but he wasn’t looking at him. In fact, he didn’t seem to be tense at all. He was looking at Irene with the same intense look he gave Ty just a minute before, and Ty was surprised to find that she was looking at him with the same curiosity. 

They seemed to be appraising each other for a long moment, and then Kit kneeled down to look at her directly in the eye. Ty wasn’t sure who was winning that stare contest. Eventually, Kit leaned towards her, his hand stretched forward gently, not touching her, but as if offering her to approach. Ty held his breath, Irene didn’t like to be touched by anyone other than him, but Kit seemed confident and relaxed. 

Ty was transfixed, as Irene stretched her long limbs and strode towards Kit. She placed her head under his hand, inviting him to stroke her. Kit patted her with his long, strong fingers, and she purred contentedly under his touch. 

Ty was baffled. That was a first, and the muttered gasps around him showed that he was not the only one to notice the magnitude of Irene’s gesture. She was a wild animal, and as much as she was loving and fiercely protective of Ty, she never showed that inclination towards any one else in the slightest.

Kit seemed content with his accomplishment, and looked up at Ty with a wide smile. “What’s her name?”

Ty found it hard to answer back, his throat felt dry and he tried to concentrate his gaze on a point behind Kit’s brilliant face. 

“Irene”, he responded with a croaked voice, hoping nobody noticed his discomfort. 

“Huh.. Irene” Kit repeated his words with a thoughtful voice, “The woman”.

Ty couldn’t help the smile from reaching his lips. Kit remembered, after all. It was a sign that something of the old friendship they had was still between them. He could feel the terrible weight of his fears slide off his chest, and wondered when was it that he stopped noticing it was there. 

His eyes scattered around Kit’s face again, trying to study his expressions without having to commit to the overwhelming power of his eyes on his.

“Yeah, well.. she’s The only woman, if you know what I mean”. Carl Lindquist stepped between them, his blonde hair pulled back tightly, making his angular face seem even more grouchy than they usually did.

“No, I actually don’t know what you mean” Kit slowly rose to his feet, and Carl took an involuntary step back. Kit was taller than him, and wider, a fact that Carl seemed to be painfully aware of. 

“I mean Blackthorn’s gay” he declared with a smirk on his thin lips. It seemed like he was saying it as an insult, and Ty couldn’t understand why.

It was true, of course, he was gay. He never felt the need to hide it, as much as it didn’t seem relevant to mention it to random people, especially people like Carl, which he didn’t really like. He also didn’t understand why Carl of all people would try to use it as an insult, when it was obvious he was-

“And..?” Kit said slowly, his voice sweet and deadly like a honey trap. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but in his eyes Ty saw the menacing and defiant look of a warrior. He almost forgot how well it suited him.. how his jaw tightened and his chest heaved with suppressed expectation. 

“And so if he’s gay than his beast of a cat is the only woman he will ever have” Carl looked at Kit like he was missing the punch of a very clever joke.

“Wow. I thought they only let the smart ones into the Scholomance. So what song did you sing for the auditions, Gretel?”

A chorus of giggles came from behind them, and Ty was surprised to find that even Bridgette, who apparently entered the hall while he was busy staring at Kit, held a hand to her mouth and failed to look imposing. 

Carl probably tried to growl at Kit, but the sound that left his mouth sounded much like a raccoon sneezing. Ty saw a sick baby raccoon once, he snuck him to the kitchen inside his jacket and fed him warm milk in one of Tavvy’s old baby bottles. 

“Ten minutes and we’re out!” He was snapped back into focus, and saw carl’s back as he stumped up the stairs.  

-

Kit stood in the hallway as everyone went to get ready for their patrol, even Irene left, probably off to terrorize Evelyn. 

Only Ty remained. He was still looking intently at a point right behind Kit, the silver in his eyes stirring, bewitching him into a hazed trance. When they were finally alone, Kit found his voice.

“He’s into you, do you know that?” 

It was obvious to him from the second he laid eyes on the slimy, pompous face of that centurion bastard. He could see the way his eyes kept running to Ty and away, like he couldn’t stop looking at him and it made him angry and hurtful. The memory made Kit taste acid down his throat, and not from jealousy. Ty was unbearably handsome, anyone could see that. But the edge of violence that stained the centurion’s words felt like a threat yet to be made.

And just because he could see it didn’t mean Ty could too.

“Yes. I’ve noticed.”

Kit examined his face, there was no trace of anger or resentment in them. He said it matter-of-factly, almost absent-mindedly.. like there was nothing to be done with it. Kit suddenly felt lighter, like someone inflated a dozen balloons inside his ribcage. He could almost feel his feet leaving the ground.

He forced his eyes to the soft hollow in the base of Ty’s neck and took a step towards him, “I-“

“I want to talk to you” they started at the same time, but Ty had an eagerness to his voice that made Kit’s eyes fly back to his face, desperate to see the bundle of emotions he felt reflected back in them.

And they had. Ty still wasn’t looking directly at him, but Kit could feel the surge of electricity that sparked between them. Every part of his body suddenly aware of their nearness, of the fact that after years, they were standing right in front of each other.. and he was no longer overpowered by hatred, grief or demon poison to cloud his thoughts. He was right there, looking straight into Ty’s grey eyes.

“Are you leaving now?” His voice sounded thick to his own ears, but he couldn’t care less about being obvious with his feelings.

“Yes, but.. will you be here when I get back?” He replied in a small, worried voice.

Kit’s chest expanded beyond what was humanly possible. He couldn’t believe how one question could have such a powerful effect on him, but it did. 

Ty wanted him to be there, he wanted to talk to him, and Kit didn’t care what about. If it was to call him every imaginable name for leaving as he did or to tell him he was stupid to send him those letters all of these years, it didn’t matter. He still wanted him there.

It wasn’t the blind need of friendship and affection that made him throw all caution to the wind when they were fifteen, it was the simple fact that there will be a tonight with Ty, and maybe even a tomorrow. That he will have a chance to fix what had happened, a chance of redemption.

“I’ll be here. Jem and Tessa are coming soon, with my sister. And it’ll be nice to train in a room that is not baby proof for a change-“

Kit was knocked backwards as that fuckwit centurion stepped right between him and Ty. He regained his balance quickly and shot him a glare he wished would burn a hole in his greasy hair. 

“Watch your face, pretty boy” the centurion called, probably satisfied that he caught Kit off guard, something that Kit promised himself will never happen again.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” Kit pulled out his most charming smile, the one that made several Devon girls and boys swoon beyond coherence. 

Weasel-face didn’t look impressed, though. He gave him a venomous look and spat on the floor.

“Eww. That’s rude, and disgusting. What the fuck is the matter with you?” Kit couldn’t stand people who just spat at floors. Did he fall asleep and end up in a goddamn western? Because those boots are where he draws the line. 

“I don’t like you, Herondale”

This guy really needs to work on his comebacks, Kit thought.

“Well, you’re not making much of an impression yourself, dick wheedle” Kit watched with amusement as his ferret’s face reddened with indignation. 

“I’m not- you can’t possibly- you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Kit could feel Ty shaking at his side, holding in the bubble of laughter. He knew that there was no chance Ty knew what dick wheedle means, but the way that weasel-face was changing colors was simply hilarious. 

“Call it an educated guess, will you?” Kit grinned widely.

He gave them one last hateful look and muttered under his breath while strutting out of the institute. 

Kit heard the word “cocksucker” and called “That’s not really an insult, that’s an observation!”, but the centurion never turned.

A second later his words sank in. He felt his cheeks flare with fierce intensity and slowly faced Ty again.

A trace of amusement danced across his lips, and Kit forgot all about weasels and ferrets and the existence of other human beings. The warmth of Ty radiated through the small distance between them, and Kit ached to close it. 

“So you’ll be here when I come back, right?” Ty said hurriedly, and his hand clasped Kit arm, gripping tightly.

He found no words, not a single one. He only nodded his head and wished like an embarrassing cliché that time would stop in that very instant, when Ty’s long fingers were sliding slowly down his bicep, tracing the webbed veins with a softness that made him shudder. He couldn’t help a gasp and his eyes caught hold of Ty’s in a symphony of shallow breaths. 

“Than I will see you later.” 

His voice was clear and steady as his fingers detached themselves from Kit, leaving the numbness of loss spreading all through him. 

Ty was out of the institute in three immeasurable seconds, which were all it took for Kit to fall to his knees.

The numbness was instantly gone, leaving in its place a net of stinging needles that attacked him from every direction. Kit felt like his bones were shaking, like the tight coil that held him in place had suddenly snapped and there was nothing to keep him from evaporating into thin air.

As he watched his shaking limbs, a bright layer of light had formed on the bare patches of his skin. He felt the cold dread of recognition trickling down his spine like a single drop of sweat. He bolted to his feet and ran up the stairs towards the roof, moving as fast as he could while watching with growing terror how the light on his skin seemed stronger with every step.

He almost ripped the door off its hinges as the cool London air hit him like a scorned lover. 

Kit looked down at his hands and felt the power surging in him, begging to be released. It felt heavy, as it always did, like all the blood in his body had solidified. The weight made his muscles flex like they were both light and warn.

He closed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate, like he was taught by Tessa. He heard her voice echoing through his clouded mind like a bell ringing from a great distance. 

But as he welcomed the darkness, the thought of Ty’s touch slammed into him all over again, and he remembered that electric wave stream between them.

A desperate thought haunted the back of his mind - what if he could never touch Ty again? Was he putting him in danger? Or more importantly, was he losing control of his powers because he was losing control of his heart?

-

Ty was the first to enter the institute. His fellow centurions found a posh looking oyster bar down St. James’s and he was able to ditch them right after they ordered with the excuse of not liking the anything on the menu. That wasn’t really an excuse.. he really didn’t like anything on it, let alone the loud hubbub of people that only seemed to increase by the second. He didn’t really understand Carl’s insistence on the place, with its high prices and seemingly miniature dishes, but it turned out well for him. He was eager to return to the institute, to Kit. 

Ty didn’t allow himself to think about him during the investigation, but as the hours passed and they found nothing of substance to go one with but scrapes of ichor and blood, his thoughts trailed uncontrollably to Kit. 

He made an inventory list of everything he wanted to ask him, or at least he tried. Why did you leave me? Are you still angry with me? When did you learn how to play your guitar? Why did you send me those letters? Do you still dream of me? Did you decipher my letter? Do you still wish you never knew me? Did you miss me? because I have, I have I have. 

As he opened the heavy iron doors of the institute, Ty was greeted by a loud shriek, accompanied by two sets of very different footsteps hurrying towards him.

There was a little girl, approximately three years old, standing in the middle of the hall, with Irene’s short black tipped tail clasped tightly in her small hand. Ty froze in terrified bewilderment. Was every member of the Carstairs household, for this was undeniably the young child of Jem Carstairs, immune to the fact that Irene was not a small kitten, but a fully grown wild animal? 

The child beamed at him with her glistening almond shaped eyes, and giggled.

“Cute Kitty!” Ty lowered himself to her, examining her delicate porcelain skin, the softness of her swollen cheeks. She was quite lovely, he had to admit, and there was a reckless energy about her that reminded him of Emma, somehow. 

“Yes, she is cute, isn’t she? Her name is Irene” The child looked dazed by the new information, “What is your name?”

Her smile became shy and she hid her face in Irene’s spotted fur. 

“Mina”, she said, her voice muffled by the fur.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mina. My name is Ty.”

“Hello, Tiberius” a soft voice came from behind them, and Ty turned to see Tessa grey, leaning on a large tapestry of Raziel. Her oval face had a tender expression to them as she watched her daughter play with Irene’s pointed ears.

“Hi,” Ty answered, a little startled by her appearance, all though it was completely to be expected, for the child- Mina, he reminded himself, would not be allowed to wander the institute on her own. 

“Would you come to study with us? The fire is lit and you must be awfully cold”

He obliged and walked after her with a slight apprehension, what would she want to talk to him? Was it to scold him? Did she know what happened on Lake Lynn? 

But Tessa’s face were kind and thoughtful, and as he scanned it for any clues of her intentions, the grey of her eyes caught him by surprise. He remembered their color, so similar and so different than his, but as he examined them by the light of the fire, he saw that there was blue in them, too. 

He wondered if Kit ever looked into them and thought of him, and then remembered a line from one of his poems, “Must I live or die every time / The light welds the grey of my mother’s eyes / Into the blaze of silver” and a violent shudder went through him.

“Are you still cold?” Tessa asked with a worried look on her face.

“No, it’s nothing”

She eyed him doubtfully, but didn’t push the matter.

“Ty, I.. I actually wanted to talk to you,” he sucked in a breath, “I wanted to thank you for all that you have done for my son. You were a true..” she paused, hesitant, “friend, to him.”

Ty puzzled over her hesitance. He wasn’t friends with Kit for years, and now.. he wasn’t sure what they were to each other. 

Tessa gave him a knowing, affectionate smile. 

“And also, my Mina is fascinated by your lynx. She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes.. I was surprised that she wasn’t afraid of her. And that Irene let her hold her tail.. she usually doesn’t appreciate it when people do that.”

Tessa laughed a light, musical laugh. “Well, Mina is quite unusual when it comes to the feline family. She demands affection, and it is usually granted to her.”

“Usually?” Ty mused.

“Magnus’s cat took some time to win over.. about ten minutes. Mina was deeply crossed.”

Ty looked at the small child, cuddled with Irene by the fire, “Are you leaving?”

Tessa gave him a sweet smile, “Yes, Jem is just saying goodbye to Kit in his room. You should go and see him.”

There it was again, that look, as if he had dirt on his face and she was debating whether to tell him so or not. What was it that she knew?

He nodded and rose to his feet, when she spoke again.

“And.. Ty? You will take care of him for me, will you? I know it’s been a long time, but now that you are here..” there was honest worry in her fierce eyes, and Ty forced himself to look straight into them when he answered.

“I will.”

-

Kit was sitting on his bed, his fingers playing nervously with threads of his pillow.

“I don’t have it under control, Jem.. I’m scared.”

He was pointedly not looking at his adoptive father, afraid of finding anger in his dark brown eyes. 

“Earlier we just.. we just talked and he touched my hand and I.. I lost it, it was so close.”

He risked a glance at him, but found nothing but affection and worry in them.

Jem was silent for a long moment before he talked.

“Nothing happened, Kit. You managed to contain it.”

Kit rolled his eyes and punched the plain white pillow in his lap.

“I understand that it’s frightening, and we don’t know nearly enough about the nature of your powers, but you managed to control it today, and you can do it again. You have to trust your instincts.”

Didn’t he understand what was in line? Didn’t he see what Kit was risking by merely staying at the institute? He was dangerous, like an exposed wire under a stormy sky.

“But what if I can’t? What if I end up hurting somebody.. what if I hurt him? What if what I feel will be the cause of-”

“Christopher, look at me,” Jem’s eyes held an intense emotion that Kit couldn’t back away from, and he was surprised to feel a solitary tear, cracking down its way through the scorching desert of his cheeks.

“Your heart is nothing to be feared.”

-

Ty climbed up the stairs that led to Kit’s room. His heart was hammering loudly in his chest, and he wished Livvy would stop practicing how to hide from him and tell him what to do.

He had a feeling that so much depended on this talk.

His hands were fidgeting restlessly with one of the toys Julian had made for him long ago. his fingers dismantling it expertly. 

He was nearly there.

Ty took a deep breath and whispered, “Livvy?” But Livvy was nowhere to be found. 

The voice that answered him, though, was one he wasn’t expecting.

“I don’t know how to be near him..” Ty felt his heart stop, and he was amazed to realize Kit was.. crying.

“I’m scared, Jem. I don’t want to hurt-”

“You will figure it out, son. I have faith in you.” Jem’s voice was firm, reassuring.

Ty felt a bubble of hurt nestling inside inside him, releasing its venom. Was he talking about him? Didn’t he want him around? Why would he chose to stay in the institute if he didn’t? He wasn’t a formal part of any investigation, he wasn’t required or forced by any law to remain here. 

He felt tears, treacherous and unwanted, streaming down his cheeks. 

How could he have gotten everything so wrong? When Kit looked at him this morning, he could have sworn that there was fondness in him. Not just fondness, emotion. When he touched his hand, he saw Kit’s eyes darken into the color of the night sky, his lips parted with amazement.

Did he imagine it? He had seen that look before, several times, and he thought he knew what it meant.. but Kit was a mystery to him like any other he had encountered. 

How could he be so wrong?

Jem’s voice woke him out of his revery. 

“Listen.. I know that you wish to stay here, with Tiberius,” Ty’s heart leaped up his throat, did he? did he want to stay? so why-

“But Kit, you must be careful. There are still those who are searching for you, you know there are whispers as well as I do. And now that there are centurions here.. don’t look at me like that, my dearest. I know that they are not the cohort, but I still need you to be cautious.”

Ty felt the attack of a thousand questions like a swirl of bees inside his head. He loved bees, as he loved questions, but the loud, violent hustle of them was painful. 

He pressed his back to the cold wall behind him, and heard Kit answer in a small voice,

“I will”.

Ty turned on his heels and headed to his room.

Kit was not just a mystery to him, he was a mystery to others, too. People were looking for him, and if Jem had any reasons to fear the involvement of centurions, this has to mean fairy. 

What did Kit have to do with the fey? Who was looking for him? 

Ty felt a surge of protective fire flare up inside him. If Kit was in danger, if someone wanted to hurt him, Ty had to know why. He had to solve this.

The well known, cold calmness of the beginning of an investigation settled over him as Livvy materialized at his side. 

She gave one look at him and called, “What’s wrong?”

“Come,” He didn’t smile as he answered, his voice hard and sharp like a newly forged sword. 

“We have a case to solve.”

[whatusernamex3000]

Kacxa Week 2019 Day 4: BoM Life

A BoM wedding. But when the bride realizes what's she marrying into, she starts to get a little nervous. Taking the last name Kogane comes with a lot of baggage. Everyone knows the surname for the leader of Voltron and the Blade of Marmora. 

-

The bride stared into her mirror, going over all the loose strands of hair. She was alone at the moment, allowing her bridesmaids to go mingle with everyone before the wedding started. It was very extravagant and extremely professional. Nearly every Blade of Marmora member would be in attendance, as well as their friends from Earth. 

She was grateful to the blades for taking her in with such open arms. They were her family, a family that she never had. Yes they were a little harder on her, giving her more difficult missions, but it was all to prove herself to them. Which she accomplished and became one of the youngest lieutenants in the Blades history. 

She thought back to how she got to this point, an event that never seemed possible. She had made so many mistakes in her past, which had caused her so much loss and pain. But in the end, it led her to this moment, and she would do it all over again, knowing how much she would be hurt and lose if it meant marrying the love of her life. 

Speaking of the love of her life, she smiled remembering how they finally came to be an actual couple. When they met, well they were far from friendly. But somewhere down the road, they both realized that their feelings were misaligned. They often say the line between hate and love in the brain is often so thin that you mistake it for the opposite. Sure enough they were in love, but neither willing to make the first move. So for too long, they danced around each other waiting for the other to ask them out. It was finally during Keith's promotion party when he took over the blade of Marmora officially did she make the move. 

It was all thanks to Romelle who gave her the (liquid) courage to make a move. Of course the threat of "Enough of this. I'm tired of everyone saying that you guys will figure it out eventually. So if you don't do it, I'll do it for you" certainly added some extra motivation. So she downed the third shot and made her move. They danced the rest of the night and it was the happiest night of her life, she couldn't believe she could've been this happy all along. The next day, she took Romelle out to the most expensive shopping trip of her life as a thanks. Without Romelle's little push, who knows how long it would have taken for them to be where they are at now. 

As she tucked the last loose strand of hair in, a bridesmaid interrupted her thoughts letting her know it was less than an hour until the ceremony started. Her nerves skyrocketed. There were only two people she could talk to that could calm her down right now. 

She snuck around the new castle of lions, Keith had insisted that they host the ceremony on New Altea, it would make Allura happy. Everyone agreed, including her. For if it weren't for the great princess of altea, none of them would be here now. She finally spotted Keith who was with his friends, the former paladins of Voltron. He looked handsome in his navy blue suit. She also noticed how happy he was with his friends, it was so different from his Blade of Marmora personality. Yes he smiled and laughed, but there was always a hint of seriousness while he was with the blades. 

He took a glance over to where she was hiding behind the statue of King Alfor and his eyes widened. Keith looked like he was going to head her way when a hand lightly grabbed her shoulder, a voice asking, "What are you doing out here?" Scared, she turned to see her accuser. Luck was on her side as it was the other person she wanted to talk to that could calm her down. 

"Sorry ma'am. I-"

The Galra woman laughed, "how many times do I have to tell you to calm me Krolia?" 

By her count this was roughly the three hundred and eleventh time she requested to simply be called Krolia. "A lot. I'm sorry ma-Krolia… just nervous."

The hand on her shoulder made its way to her hands. "It's understandable. Today is the biggest day of your life," Krolia said causing her to take an over exaggerated gulp. "But it's also going to be the best day of your life. Unless of course you both decide to have children, then their birth will be the best day of your life. And I will always support you. Although I think you would make a great mother." 

Krolia's comment caused her to blush. She had never known her parents, they had given up on her before she had a chance to prove she was worth loving. And all her life she never knew love… until the Koganes became part of her life. All of a sudden she was overwhelmed by the love they gave her, and she never wanted to go back to her life without love. "Can I… can I ask you something?" 

"Of course my dear."

"Well I… I won't have anyone to walk my down the aisle and well… would you… walk me down the aisle?" She nervously asked. 

Krolia gave her a smile that made her heart melt. "I'd be honored to."

With ceremony quickly approaching, Krolia escorted the bride back into her room before seeking out her son. "How is she?" He asked. "I saw her out her sneaking around."

Krolia eased her son's nerves. "She's fine. Just pre-wedding nerves. I'm going to be walking her down the aisle." That made Keith happy; he knew all of her history. She has such a hard life and even told him that she didn't know what it was like to be loved until she met them and the blades. He promised that she would always be loved, no matter what happened, they would be there for her. 

An MC announced they would be starting soon, and both Keith and Krolia hugged before heading to their respective positions. 

The walk down the aisle was long, but all that mattered was Krolia holding her hand assuring her that it's all going to work out. She always had this thing where she would pick one small hypothetical and run with it until it was so far fetched and out of control that it was impossible that it would actually happen. Yet no matter how impossible, she always managed to believe it could happen. This time it was that it was all an elaborate prank, that the Koganes and blades didn't care about her at all and just wanted to destroy her. 

When they finally reached the end, Krolia pulled her in for one last hug and reminded her that everything is going to be perfect. Just focus on her love and just stare at their eyes. Everything else will fade away. 

She took Krolia's advice and just focused on those violet eyes. All the doubt vanished and she said her vows and cried hearing the vows. She cursed her weak constitution, now she owed Zethrid and Ezor ten dollars each. Apparently they knew her heart better than she did. 

She laughed when Kosmo showed up, presenting them with the rings. He gave them both a loving kiss as they scratched his chin and behind his ears. She loved that wolf, and the feeling was mutual. If you asked anyone with the blades, they would say that she was Kosmo's favorite. 

"...I do." 

This was it, the two biggest words she was ever going to say. 

"And do you, Lyanna Beauregard, take Norah Kogane to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Their wedding officiant, Takashi Shirogane, asked. 

"I do." 

"You may now kiss the bride,"  Shiro said with a smile. 

Lyanna stepped to her new wife and pulled her in for a kiss. 

-

After Keith and Acxa walked their second daughter down the aisle, they took their seats at the front. "She looks beautiful," Acxa pointed out as they both watched Lyanna walking down the aisle, accompanied by his mom. 

Keith smiled, nudging his wife of twenty five years, nodding towards Norah who was trying to hold back tears as she watched the love of her life walk down the aisle. "Someone's already crying. I think you owe me five bucks." 

Acxa groaned quietly, "she gets that from you. You were such a baby when you saw me walking down the aisle with your mom."

"Are we talking about paying up?" Their eldest daughter, and current Commander of the Blade of Marmora, Kiera asked. "Cus dad owes me like fifty bucks for betting that grandma was going to walk Lyanna down the aisle. And you'll owe me another twenty for when she cries during the vows." 

Keith rolled his eyes and pulled his two girls closer to him. Acxa cuddled up closer to him, intertwining their hands. Keira scoffed as she rested her head on her father's shoulder. 

"Uhhh don't forget about me Dad," their youngest and only son Yorak said from the row behind. 

"Oh I haven't. You were the one foolish enough to take the bet that uncle Shiro wouldn't cry. You should know that he's the biggest softy in the universe. So how bout you just give that money to your sister." 

Yorak groaned, "ugh. Fine." 

"Also you're sitting at the kids table," Acxa added with a devilish smile. 

"But mom… I'm like one of the youngest Captains in the blades. I can't sit at the kids' table. The McClain's sit there… they're animals."

"Oh I know." Maybe when you find a love like Norah, you can sit with the grownups. Until then… kids table."

Keira snickered. "Oh you too young lady. You may be the oldest, but you didn't bring that boy you've been seeing much to my disappointment so kids table for you too." 

"But mom, Yorak is right. The McClain kids are ridiculous. Uncle Lance always puts them there. Plus I'm twenty four. And I charge of the blades!"

"Kids listen to your mother. And pay attention, this is the best part," Keith finalized the ordeal. 

"...I do." 

As Keith and Acxa watched their daughter kiss her now wife, they stood and cheered along with the dozens of blades that came to support their family. 

The Blade of Marmora was once a hardcore espionage syndicate. But do to his and Acxa's hard work, they became an outreach and humanity service. It was Keith's idea to start allowing more than just Galra to serve. Lyanna was one of the first Earth born to join, which showed that the blades were no longer spies, but wanted to help those who couldn't help themselves. The Blade of Marmora was more than a group, but a family. And even though he hadn't been a blade for a few years now, once a Blade, always a blade. It was for life. 

-

So did I get ya in thinking it was a kaxca wedding? Or did you know all along. Lemme know ")

Also i think this story works really well as a final chapter to my "Blade Dates" story on ao3. It's not necessary but it def works.

[stainedinlavenderblood]

Question thing tagged by @euthymiclurker

I tag @horse-boy @cinder-valestera @llunaruna @dieeisenkaiserin @pink-catnip

theres like 50 of them so im sticking them in the read more

1. What takes up too much of your time? being on Tumblr

2. What makes your day better?  when my friends get in call

3. What’s the best thing that happened to you today?  i went to a job fair and then got food at the burger king at my university for the first time and felt like i was adulting so good

4. What fictional place would you like to go to?  wherever i can find a real Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and use it to go anywhere in the universe

5. Are you good at giving advice? i don’t know, i like to think so but sometimes i feel like i’m not approaching the problem people want advice on in any correct manner 

6. Do you have a mental illness? many 

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? nope

8. What musician inspires you the most? Tally Hall, i really like the variety in the way their music sounds and the way they can make nonsense lyrics sound so compelling and catchy

9. Have you ever fallen in love? many times, and every time i break up with someone my brain does its damnedest to fall in love again asap

10. What’s your dream date? getting food at somewhere we both like or showing one of us a place the other likes and then going home to play video games or watch something n fall asleep while cuddling

11. What do others notice about you? my sarcastic and/or straight-up rude shirts (i have one that says “not shy, just don’t like you” and the like dean of my university or something saw it and let me tell you i wanted to die.)

12. What’s an annoying habit you have? i don’t like to talk on voice calls for various reasons (most of which are out of my control but its also largely because i just don’t like talking in general) so everyone who calls me has to put up with me typing

13. Do you still talk to your first love? i have dated or had a crush on so many people i don’t even know who to call my first love. i had a crush on some girl when i was in preschool, i shouldve been thinking about legos and when the next time mom was making mac n cheese was

14. How many exes do you have? uh like 5

15. How many songs are in your playlist? which one. i have like so many. one playlist has over 1,500 songs in it

16. What instruments can you play? none of them. i tried trumpet once but i was no good at it

17. What do you have the most pictures of? anime girl reaction pics

18. Where would you like to go before you die? to my bed

19. What’s your zodiac? scorpio

20. Do you relate to it? sometimes

21. What is happiness to you? having no pressing responsibilities

22. Are you going through anything right now? adjusting to living in a college dorm

23. What’s the worst decision you ever made? being a gifted child and believing any of the shit they told me

24. What’s your favorite store? i don’t shop much but i guess fry’s grocery store??

25. What’s your opinion about abortion? life is not nearly as sacred as people make it out to be. i think some people need to accept that life is not as nice as they think it is and sometimes shit happens. if a woman doesnt want her baby for any reason i don’t care, especially because its not even born yet, its in no way taking an innocent life cause that thing isnt even fully formed yet anyways. there are a lot of steps matter has to take to become life and things can go wrong on literally all of them

26. Do you keep a bucket list? nope

27. Do you have a favorite album? the crypt of the necrodancer soundtrack is a fuckin banger

28. What do you want for your birthday? money

29. What are people’s first impressions of you? probably that i’m very quiet or i look like i really don’t want to be there

30. What age do you seem according to most people? people usually think im a few years younger than i am for some reason

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping? on my desk or sometimes i fall asleep and wake up to find i was laying on it

32. What word do you say the most? ye

33. What’s the oldest age you would date? 20

34. What’s the youngest you would date? 17

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you? people don’t usually give me suggestions but they agree when i say what i want to do

36. What’s your favorite music genre? i don’t know i like a lot of kinds of music. i like some weird obscure genres like speedcore or gabber or something but i usually don’t say that. i just say i like “experimental” music most of the time

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be? nowhere is safe as long as the US is still a world power

38. What is your current favorite song? The Correspondents - INEXPLICABLE

39. How long have you had this blog for? since September 21st, 2013. so, way too long

40. What are you excited for? the next time i get a lot of money so i can blow it all on video games for me n my friends

41. Are you a better talker or listener? im not bad at talking but i dont like to do it so i mostly listen

42. What was the last productive thing you did? worked on problems for an initial knowledge check for my math class thats starting on friday

43. What do you want for Christmas? to go home

44. What class do you get the best grades in? usually english

45. On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now? ???

46. What can you see yourself doing in ten years? laying in bed and fighting off the ever-present feeling of wanting to just give up no matter how good things get

47. When did you get your first heartbreak? in like 4th grade

48. What age do you want to get married? it doesn’t matter to me much as long as we don’t like have a kid

49. What career did you want to have as a child? astronaut... i still really want to but i know that commercial space travel the way i want it will never become a reality in my lifetime and nor will we meet aliens

50. What do you crave right now? a more comfortable chair. the one they gave me in my dorm is not comfortable at all

[terresdebrume]

I am home

Well, I thought weddings were tiring before but let me tell you French weddings have nothing on Cambodian weddings (soft edition)!

I am currently slumped on my couch, waiting for meal delivery (and also maybe death, judging by the sting under my eyes xD) and vaguely thinking that I should maybe consider getting up to put my laundry out to dry (that will probably wait until I need to get down for my food, tbh).

Longer account of the past three days under the cut!

Things started pretty good on Thursday because no one was late or got  lost or had major trouble, and the minivan was even at the rendez-vous  point on time which, it being Cambodia, is not always a guarantee, even  if we did book the van for our group. We strapped down for an 8 hours  bus drive around 9:30pm and chatted a little bit before settling down and all would have been fine if, like the driver had driven like a reasonable person.

Which he did not.

Apparently  (I couldn't see the dial) we drove at an average of fifty-ish  kilometers per hours, sometimes sixty, which you just should not do on  Cambodian roads, especially not at night, on account of

The  poor state of the roads (especially considering the guy ditched the main  road and went for the country roads, aka sometimes we were drivingon  dirt trails more than actual roads)

Everyone drives but  almost no one has a license, which means you get a lot of really funny  behaviors like people driving without lights at dusk, people driving  with their lights at maximum intensity all the time (including anti fog  lights) or our own driver taking turns fast enough to make us all think  about barrel rolls every time

Sometimes, a roaming animal  appears! I'm pretty sure there's a veal out there who's still a little  shaken from our encounter with it on Thursday night.

So,  the trip was strange. The driver stopped about ever hour to go and pee  (we nearly forgot one of our friends, Champey, at one point. He was  lucky his girlfriend noticed his absence) but apparently didn't know a  place where there were actual toilets, which is how at least one of our   friends accidentally mooned a passing car and then a random and adorable  woman ended up taking us to her home so we could pee at two in the   morning.

(Side note, there is something really eerie about having   about nine or ten people crossing a random family's main living space,   motorbikes on the left and people asleep on the right, trying not to   overheat in the warm layers they put on to fight off the chill of   overeager air con and whispering about their misadventures in   toilet-using while traveling and the perils of our driver).

At one   point, we stopped to deliver a package (and also I think another dude   who wasn't with us but whom the driver must have sold a ticket to on the  side, because that's prety common in Cambodia) and then things mostly went in an uneventful, if really bumpy, way.

Although of course I  think all of us would have appreciated it if the buss ride had NOT   turned out to take 10 hours instead of the estimated eight.

Anyway,  we got to Ratanakiri province mostly in time for the wedding (I think around seven ish?) and went to change. I had to limp because eight hours  in a bus were hell on my left ankle, which I now know for certain is  sprained, but other than that it went fine. We did a bit of washing up,  changed, got ready, and rejoined the wedding... and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I swear, so much of being a guest in a khmer wedding is about waiting xD

From  the outside, a lot of the ceremonies seemed to be essentially visual   things. Julie & Channy (the marrying couple) had to change outfits   throughout the day (Julie had EIGHT outfits to go through in a day! Plus  hairdos!) and a lot of the ceremonies seemed to be mostly about taking a  billion pictures of them under ever angle, slightly adjusting the pose  and thentaking another billion pictures from there. There was also a LOT  of talking, which I'm pretty sure doubled the length of everything and  felt really unusual to me... and then more waiting.

My favorite  part of the day was the last of the morning rites, during which the  newlyweds are surrounded by their parents and the attending 'stable  couples' and candles are passed around the circle of guests so they can  pass their hands through/over the candle and send the flames of love  toward the bride and groom. After that, anyone who wants it can go and  tie a red string around the couple's wrists to wish their marriage  longevity (the newlyweds are then supposed to keep the strings on at  least three days).

I didn't go and do that, because I really had to  go and prop my ankle up but also because I was embarrassed at not having  anything to give as an offering (I mean, I know Julie & Channy  wouldn't have minded, but I was still embarrassed). That is, honestly,  my only regret throughout the day x)

Anyway, after this ceremony,  which apparently the key one (as in the point where the couple is  officially married) our group was shown to the place where we'd sleep at  night and proceeded to 1. wash up a little and 2. collapse into a nap.  We pretty much slept on the bare hardwood floor so I was anticipating an  achy back when I woke up but that actually didn't happen at all which  was a great plus!

Then around six, we changed back into our pretty  utfits and went for dinner, which was delicious and greatly enjoyed.  There was one more ceremony, which I didn't see, and then some dancing  but at that point I went back to our sleeping spot because my ankle hurt  and it's not like I was going to do any dancing xD

In the  meantime, Champey (who took care of most of the dealing with the minivan  driver) had gotten a call from the driver who said he wanted to leave  at 4PM on Saturday, instead of 8pm like we'd planned. That was not  exactly well met by the group (at least the French portion was pretty  open about that. Khmer people tend to be more reserved about what they  think, but I'm not sure they were entirely un-annoyed either) but since  his argument was for security we thought it might actually be for the  best. So, we agreed, but asked him to drive us to a nearby lake we  wanted to visit on Saturday so we'd be on time. He was, apparently,  insistent that we should be ready to depart at the set time, which is  absolutely hilarious (in an ironic way) when you consider the propensity  of khmer people in general to not be punctual at all xD

(That's an  interesting culture gap tbh, and it would have been purely funny if we  hadn't been peeved about his wanting to change the departure time and  being difficult about our rendez-vous point in Phnom Penh the night  before).

So, come Saturday morning, we took the bus at ten (maybe  five past, mostly because of me, oops) went to the aforementioned lake  and dealt with the usual khmer/foreigners price difference, then had to  wait while someone (either the driver or the lake guards) refused to  take the $20 bill they were given on the basis that it was 'too damaged'  (it was not). And then, finally, WATER! :D

I'm a huuuuuge water  baby, I could spent entire days in the water if I have someone or a book  to pass the time with, so obviously that rejuvenated me in record time.  We had a great time there, bathed a lot, ate a lot (the caramelized   chicken was delicious) and I bought a shirt. It was really cool.

We  were mostly done around 3:30pm, so we called the minivan so he'd come and get us, but when the driver and his wife arrived and opened the   door, it turned out there were now two car engines there, one of which   was in the way of entering and exiting the minivan. It took something   like twenty minutes of insisting before the driver agreed to move it to the front, where his wife sat (she wasn't happy about it) because he   tried telling us we'd only reserved 15 seats in an 18 seats minivan   (wrong, we'd gotten the whole vehicle) and then apparently said the   engines were for a nearby delivery (they were still with us when we   reached Phnom Penh) and then the guys (minus me) had to move the engine up to the front themselves.

So that was fun.

The  ride back to Phnom Penh was as bumpy as the ride out of it, but there was a lot more singing and aside from two really scared dogs there   wasn't really anything of notice. We got proper toilet breaks this time (lucky for the periods-havers of the group) and even got to buy some   bamboo rice on the way there, which was a really nice evening meal :D

After  that, it was mostly a matter of waiting the ten hours to Phnom Penh,   getting in tuktuks (in my case, with one of the group members who   couldn't go home to her parents (or didn't dare ride alone?) at 2am) and  crashing into bed.

And today, or mostly this afternoon, will be mostly dedicated to being a couch potato until bedtime as far as I'm concerned xD

[karl1n-fanfiction-librarys]

Chapter 9: Everybody loves family!

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

Contains: mature language

Summary: Akihito gets pregnant, what will happen?

Disclaimer: I don't own the viewfinder series Yamane Ayano does.

Note:

 “Ryui- wha!” Asami was now kneeling down in front of Akihito, a tiny red box in his hand. In the box was a shiny white-gold ring. “My sweet Akihito, will you marry me?” Shock was clearly shown on Akihito’s face “ah.. umh, yes?” he said in a tiny voice. Asami smiled sliding a ring on Akihito’s finger, and then kissing his hand; before standing up and capturing Akihito’s lips with his own.

‘Akihito is finally truly mine’

 06/24 18:54 Tuesday

 Akihito stared out the window; he hated this. After Ryuichi had proposed to him they had walked around for a bit longer, viewing the trees, but Akihito now nearing the end of his 4th month got tired rather quickly, his ankles also didn’t seem to like walking anymore.

 Akihito was currently staring at his chest, or rather what was on his chest. Apparently he needed to his tits to look female, and Kirishima perfectionist that he was had off course made sure he had them. The fake boobs were frighteningly realistic, this morning when the make-up ladies had first dressed him up it hadn’t been nearly as bad as now. He had just worn a stuffed bra. The things stuck to his chest were just… ugh. Had Akihito not know it was him in the mirror he wouldn’t have been able to recognize himself, and he certainly woudn’t have said that his reflection was male. The boobs were glued to his skin with a special substance that wouldn’t allow the appendages to fall off unless the special anti-substance was applied to them. They were his exact skin colour and you couldn’t see that they weren’t supposed to be part of him. Akihito really didn’t understand why he couldn’t just wear a filled bra again, this was ridicules!

 “Asami-sama, are you finished?” One of the ladies said and Akihito eyes widened in horror, they where going to see him like this?! Were the fuck was his bra. Akihito honestly didn’t know where this prudishness came from, but he couldn’t care less. “A-Almost!”

 06/24 19:20 Tuesday

 Asami Chika, looked towards the door of the privet room she and her husband had rented, just as her oldest son opened it. Standing next to him was a rather beautiful looking woman; she wore a midnight blue dress stopping at her ankles. She wore matching blue shoes, with a small heel. Two long locks of light blond hair were braided and met at the back of her head, they were tied by a small engraved silver clasp and fell down her shoulders with the rest of her hair reaching until mid-back. As she studied the jewelry the lady in front of her was wearing she couldn’t help but feel slightly shocked when she saw the white gold ring around her finger. It was a simple band with in the center a ring of diamond; her son wore a matching one, without the diamond.

 Akihito felt rather nervous Ryuichi’s mother had been eyeing him for the last couple of minutes, while Ryu and Ryuichi exchanged pleasantries. The hand resting on his waist tightened, as Asami addressed his mother. Akihito rubbed his stomach self-consciously, the dress he was wearing was comfortable but it just made him feel uncomfortable.

 The midnight blue dress had an open back and stretched comfortably around his round belly, it was cut on the right side from just bellow his hip all the way down and the sides of the cut were decorated with tiny diamonds. Bigger and more prominent diamonds were covering the fabric around his ‘breasts’.

 Akihito wore matching blue earrings made up of 5 small stones hanging from one big stone set in white gold. He also wore a simple bracelet with blue stones on it.

 The ladies who had done his make-up had wanted him to have his natural hair colour and had dyed it back to light blonde. Just one shade darker than it actually was. He had removed his collard contact lens form his right eye now dark blue, slightly lighter than his dress.

(A/n: so Akihito hair colour is light blonde and his right eye is dark blue while his left is hazel.)

 06/24 19:28 Tuesday

 Ryuichi could barely refrain from chuckling when he saw the lost look on his fiancé’s face. Akihito didn’t appear to really know what to order. Leaning in he raised his eyebrows, he finally understood the look, Akihito’s menu was in French.

 06/24 19:35 Tuesday

 Akihito studied Asami’s parents in boredom. Sure he was happy that Asami had spared him the embarrassment of having to speak -–supposedly he had a throat infection—but he was bored as hell! There was nothing to do but listen to Asami speaking with his parents, and of those conversations he didn’t understand half of. They were talking about business and stocks and other things Akihito didn’t really care about. He was also really hungry and they didn’t even bring a basket of bread! Looking at Asami’s parent could only entertain someone for a short period of time after all. Asami Chika was clearly ‘the man’ in the relationship, she kept interrupting her husband, and Akihito felt sort of bad for the guy. Having to live with someone like that must be awful. Chika was rather pretty for her age, she wore a light yellow yukata, which looked good on her. Her husband, Ryu, was like his son wearing a suit. Though unlike Ryuichi, it was dark blue instead of black.

 Chika wore light make-up which made her look quite a bit younger. She looked like a strict sort of mother; in Akihito’s eyes she fitted the roll of being Ryuichi’s mother. Akihito could only imagine how awfull a teenager Ryuichi must have been. Chika didn’t seem to like jewelry; she only wore her wedding ring and a pair of earrings. Not that Akihito had that much more, but with the diamonds covering his dress, he thought, or rather the ladies who had dressed him thought that that would be too much.

 Grumbling on Akihito almost didn’t notice their waiter walking in with their food. After the plate was placed in front of him Akihito stared. They couldn’t be serious, this tiny amount of stuff, he didn’t’ t dare call it food, was their dinner? He was frigging starving and this; this was what he had been waiting for, for the last fucking 30 minutes!

 06/24 20:45 Tuesday

  Akihito really wanted to go home, after five courses he was exhausted. Every time their waiter placed food on the table, Akihito spend the entire meal trying to figure out what it tasted like and what the fuck it was. Each course lasted five minutes at most so in the end he never figured out what he ate. His back hurt from sitting so still and stiff the entire time and he was simply tired. The only good thing about the entire evening was that he had actually meet a nice waiter for once, Edward was one of those stereo type gays, but in a good way. He had to remember to tell Ryuichi to give the man a nice tip. (A/n: I had a waiter named Edward when I was in America, he was very nice. :D)

    Omake 2: soccer, cages and rabbits

06/28 20:56 Monday

 “No! move it more to the left, yes like that, gosh, how hard is it!”

“Akihito what are you doing… what is that?” Asami asked, eyes filled with suspicion.

“Hm… oh, you mean Mayu’s cage?” Akihito said absently minded, still looking at the piece of paper in his hands.

“Yes, her cage, would you care to explain why it’s taking up the whole room?”

“Come on now, you’re exaggerating, it isn’t taking up the whole room, Mayu just needs space to run so I made, okay, your men made fences around her cage. Unless she is allowed to walk through the house?” Akihito said looking hopeful. “No.” Asami growled turning on his heel. Akihito sniggered behind his hand, kneeling and petting Mayu. “He looks jealous doesn’t he Mayu?”

 06/29 19:45 Tuesday

 “Hey, Ryuichi can I ask you a question?” Akihito said squirming on the settee. “Yes, what is it?” “Uhm… areyougoodatplayingsoccer?” “What was that, Akihito?” “Are you good at playing soccer?” “I’m decent why?”

 “Well we’re having three sons so I think that we can assume that at least one of them would like soccer and I suck at it so they need someone to teach them. But if you can then it’s fine.” Akihito said standing up and waddling away happily. Leaving a confused Asami behind. He jerked his hand away from the paper on the floor he had planned to pick up. He glared at it, pressing his left hand to the bleeding one.

 Asami gently nudged the paper with his expensive Italian shoes, revealing a white-pink ball of fur. He reached out again, planning on shoving the rabbit out of the room, the white monster didn’t seem to agree with him though, and he couldn’t suppress a yelp as the beast bit him again.   “Kirishima! Get this thing out of here!” “Coming!” Sounded a voice, followed by footsteps. That didn’t sound like Kirishima, no, it sounded like his lover. Quietly cursing he hastily whipped the blood on the couch. He wasn’t going to show Akihito that he had been bitten by the little bitch.

 The creature causing all the trouble was watching the man; she was highly amused. Who would have thought that biting him would be so easy!

 “Ryu, why were you shouting? Hey! Is that Mayu?! I’ve been looking for her everywhere!” Akihito said waddling over to the rabbit. Aki carefully lifted the animal of the ground. “Asami are you bleeding? What happened?!” He said shifting Mayu, she didn’t look comfortable at all, might have something to do with her inability to keep her balance with the hot pink plaster surrounding her upper body. “It’s just a small cut, you shouldn’t worry about it.” “Oh.. Okay” Akihito said, but Asami could hear the suspicion in his voice, the look Akihito was giving him didn’t help eather. Luckily his fateful assistant finally decided to show up “Asami-sama you called?”

 07/30 11:37 Monday

 “Good morning Mayu!” “Aren’t you happy they are going to take that awful cast off today?” Akihito said cheerfully squeezing the rabbit against his chest. “Jin! Hurry would you, I’m pregnant and I’m faster than you!” “Akihito-sama please wait! You shouldn’t walk so fast, what if you fall! Akihito-sama!” The man shouted miserably, he had just been assigned the job of being Akihito’s personal bodyguard/assistant and it was hell on earth. The boy didn’t see danger in anything! If it went on like this he would need an early retirement. “Jin! Move! Mayu stop wiggling! Jin!”

Poor rabbit, Jin thought, must be awful being squeezed against a chest like that.

  07/30 11:45 Monday

 Mayu looked around the room in fright; she was visiting the mean white man again. She recognized the disgusting smell. She tried desperately to get away from the man and the sharp object he was holding, making frantic squeaking noises in the process. Where is master? Where is my master! Go away! She tried biting but she couldn’t reach, suddenly the hard stuff that had been keeping her from walking properly was removed, she scramble of the table, hitting the floor and speeding out the door. She came to a sudden stop, right in front of a big black dog, Shit. “Mayu, what are you doing!” master, she was scooped up in his arms, warm and safe. “Shees, I was worried, bad Mayu! What if that mean dog hurt you!” He said, waddling towards the front door, still petting Mayu’s head on the way out, with Jin hurrying after them.

[japanjazz-blog]

It all started when...

“Have you ever heard of InuYasha?” my new friend asked me in 7th grade while we warmed up our clarinets in band class.

Ah yes, InuYasha. How so many anime interests begin. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I could not comprehend the hours that I would spend binge-watching Evangelion, or how many times I would sneak downstairs to watch the newest episode of Trigun. I remember being upset that Princess Mononoke didn’t record, and my father standing in front of the television with his hands on his hips, a concerned look on his face.

“Enough is enough, Maria. You’re obsessed with this shit. It’s a damn cartoon. You’re getting too old for this.”

Little did my dad know, that was only the beginning.  

I could not get enough of this weird thing called “anime”. Why are there eyes so big? Why do all of the girls talk like mice? Why is everything so shiny and overly cute? And why am I crushing on animated men with impossibly good hair?

(Actually, now that I’m here in real life Tokyo, I will say that many Japanese men do have amazing hair. But I digress.)

The worst part was when the friend who got me into it was not into it anymore. Thankfully I had many nerd friends who got the references and would watch whole series with me. But to be honest, it alienated some of my very close friends. Talking about it now, we laugh, but back then it actually drove a big wedge between us that I was unaware of.

“You were obsessed,” one of my good friends would say with a nostalgic chuckle. “All you ever fucking talked about was new episodes, or bishounen. Remember you would all fight over who owned which guy?”

“Thank god you got over that,” my other friend agreed. “It was hard to talk to you sometimes because that was all you were interested in.”

This is surreal for me to hear. I don’t remember being solely focused on anime: I loved classic rock, I was in the marching band, I loved reading, I liked geeky movies. I was that weird Hot Topic nerd in high school, for sure (or I wanted to be, at least) but...was anime really all I talked about?

“YES,” everyone would confirm emphatically.

 It’s a surreal experience to finally be in Tokyo after this anime phase has passed. However, it’s not exactly a phase - I watched a series once I came here because I felt compelled to do so. I mean, here I am in Japan, am I really not going to watch what interested me in the culture in the first place? However, watching it as a 27 year old woman, compared to watching it as my 13 year- old self, was a strange experience I was not expecting.

….how did I never notice the blatant sexism?

I’m planning a future post about the series that I watched, but let’s talk about anime in general. I can think of some strong female characters, for sure, but to be honest, in most animes, the female characters are there to look cute, wear tiny outfits that show off their prepubescent bodies, or to offer panty shots or nosebleeds for the male characters (side note: apparently the nose bleed symbolizes a rush of blood to the penis, but animes are not allowed to show erections or else they are considered hentai, or porn. So instead, when a guy is turned on, blood shoots out his nose in a ridiculously dramatic way). Often they’re seen fretting over the food they prepare for their friends, something that is very real in Japanese culture: women are praised when they are able to assemble the perfect bento box. Their strong characteristics are always love and devotion to their friends or a significant other. But can’t a woman be a strong character in ways that do not involve feelings towards others? Why can’t a female character have admirable qualities that are not related to their relationship to other people? We often see the loner type expressed in cold men, wayward samurai who don’t know how to love or who are jaded by war...but rarely do we see women portrayed this way. They are often the loving characters, the characters who are always sorry, gomen nasai, blushing while they spill drops of tea on the table, as though this is the worst thing in the world.

However, there are also many strong female characters in anime, and their strengths are independent of their relationships with others. Some that come to mind are Princess Mononoke, Rei from Evangelion, Winry from FullMetal Alchemist, and Tsunade from Naruto, the first female leader of the ninja village. If you’ve got some other great suggestions, because I know these women exist in anime, then please comment!

But flat female characters aside, let’s talk about the real focus of all of these women: of course, their bodies. The girls who are being sexed up are children, fourteen or fifteen years old. However, their bodies are often drawn much more maturely, with large jiggling breasts and ample asses that are disproportionate to the rest of their bodies.

Listen internet: I walk through Shinjuku and Ikebukuro weekly, and Japanese women do not look like that. The women’s bras here are most often the size of training bras in America. The average body time is very slim with little to no curves, and practically no body fat. As a result: no jiggling ass, no jiggling breasts. (Although I will admit, the random Tokyo breezes that lift girls’ skirts are real - I’ve gotten hit with sudden gusts and flashed the whole sidewalk unintentionally many times…)

And yet, these portrayals of Japanese women are the most popular references in America. I imagine that many tourists would be shocked to see that average Japanese women rarely wear skirts at thigh length, hardly ever show their shoulders even in the summertime, and especially do not show cleavage. Many women wear turtlenecks or long sleeve shirts under their spaghetti string dresses, because the dress alone is considered inappropriate unless you are going to the club. Of course I see young people dressed sexy, in stiletto shoes with thigh tight dresses, their hair dyed a bright strawberry blond; or girls rocking crop tops and baggy pants (currently a popular fashion trend in Japan). In America, the common sex symbol is cleavage; in Japan, it’s legs. I always wondered why the Sailor Scout’s legs were so long and slim, but it makes sense now - the sex appeal. Considering that women often wear baggy pants, it makes sense that showing a lot of leg is considered sexual.

But the most infuriating, most uncomfortable part of this realization thus far, for me, has been maid cafes.

My inner teenager was so excited to go to Akihabara, to see the anime mecca of the world. I felt like I had been waiting to see a place like this since the 8th grade. And that’s just it - in the 8th grade I would have died a thousand deaths to walk through the stories of anime stores, to look at all of the ￥10,000 figurines, to try and collect a new series. But as an old fart….oh sweet Jesus. 

The lights. The sounds. The constant assault of everything...oh my god, I wanted to leave as soon as I got out of the subway. In every inch of Akihabara, there is something happening, and it’s flashy, high-pitched, and often wearing an impossibly short skirt. There were some areas where two pop songs were on full blast at the same time, and my brain started to cry. Someone is always shouting Japanese from a loudspeaker, advertising a new band; anime characters are clashing swords together in an over dramatic final duel on a giant gumbo screen; and along the sidewalks, women in their 20’s are dressed as though they are 15, handing out flyers to the maid cafe.

Maid cafes are a well known part of Japanese pop culture. Basically, you pay hourly to sit in a cafe and order adorable food shaped like cute animals that is served to you by girls in adorable outfits. The amount of frill that laces these dresses is no joke:

  Admittedly, I totally want an ice cream shaped like a lion. I mean come on, that shit’s adorable. But what’s not adorable is the whole maid culture: these women are not 15, they’re nearly my age, but because of their slim bodies, they are able to pass off as teenagers. And the voices...dear lord. There is no way that someone naturally speaks in such a high-pitched tone. Although women speaking in a high-pitch is considered part of an overall business tone (American women do it too, I’ve noticed, just not as high), the pitch of this speech is...unnatural. As though each were a doll that are speaking because you squeezed their hand or pressed the sticker on their chest.  

Standing outside, watching these women advertise with plastic painful smiles on their faces, I realized something I never considered before: all of these women are being forced to act like they are 15 years old because it’s what male customers want. They don’t want to order a call girl, a fully grown woman - they want a girl who is pure, who acts innocent and uncertain, and chances are this kind of girl would be an inexperienced teenager.

It gets better: you can get trading cards.

Now as far as I know, some maid cafes have cartoon trading cards, and others promote certain maid cafe animes. However, you can also get trading cards of the women that work there - with fake names, fake interests that are often devoid of any intelligence or personality, and of course, a fake teen age. There are men who keep these in binders like Pokemon cards, and who wait hours at a cafe to be served by their favorite girl - a very expensive pass time, as customers pay by the hour and, during a rush,  have their stay limited by the cafe. These cards can also be signed and autographed photos of the customer with their favorite maid, who will sign it with a practiced autograph of a fake name usually surrounded by cute little hearts, or an animal face.

Maybe I’m being a Debbie Downer, or I have irrational expectations for something that is supposed to be sweet and innocent. But to me, there is something very disturbing about a woman applying for a job where she must act ten years younger, speak in a consistent, unrealistically cheerful tone, and autograph photos of herself with a fake name. Why don’t these men go out and meet real women, with real names and interests? Why do they only feel safe through a simulation of leaching on teenage girls? And why are they allowed to wait hours until their favorite maid comes to work? Stalking is a huge problem in Japan, and I feel this kind of situation is a golden opportunity for a predator to find it’s prey. However, I haven’t been able to find any evidence or proof that the popularity of maid cafes has led to an increase in stalking in Japan. 

Has anyone had a positive experience at a maid cafe? Has anyone ever felt uncomfortable going to one? Please share your experiences below - this is only what I’ve seen and how I’ve felt, so I’m curious about other people’s opinions. 

Thanks for reading! This whole blog will not be posts like this, I just wanted to get this off my chest (no pun intended). 

Articles you may find interesting on this topic:

https://japantoday.com/category/features/lifestyle/the-past-present-and-future-of-maid-cafes

https://uncorneredmarket.com/japan-maid-cafe/ 

Trigger warning for this article about stalking and domestic abuse:

http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2016/09/10/national/social-issues/japan-waking-menace-stalking/#.WTZ46VV97rc

Disclaimer:  I don’t think you’re a pervert/creep if you’ve gone to a maid cafe! I feel like I should go at least once before leaving Tokyo, because it’s such a well known staple of attraction. But...I can’t shake the feeling that I’m contributing to something that is really detrimental to young Japanese girls.

(Pictures are not mine, but I plan on using my own in the future.)