#ok maybe will explain the jingle one sometime that is the one with the least context

[captain-amadeus]

wings/fan/jingle/cats/eustis/slander/slicklock doodles

[aetheternity]

Hard pass 2 (Levi x Reader)

I'm a little concerned about how little time I took on the ending for the last part so I'm gonna put a little more time into this one. Hope you guys enjoy. :)

Synopsis: Levi is forced out of his comfy dorm room and in a strange twist of events right into your arms at a college party.

Levi was transfixed to say the least. He'd spent the past hour that he'd been back in his dorm room staring into a freshly made cup of black tea. The small jingling of keys in the door shaking him from his daze.

"Hello, Hello Leviathan." Mike greeted, tossing his bag to the side haphazardly.

Any other time Levi would've rolled his eyes but he just let out an agitated huff.

"Uh oh.. I know that look." Mike announced plopping down onto his unmade bed. "Who's the lucky girl?" He asked his smirk bright.

Levi's hair whipped against his cheek as he turned to Mike. "What are you on about? Who told you?" Probably Hange. Damn four eyes could never keep her mouth shut.

"No one had to." Mike laughed "You've just told me basically everything I need to know. Your distracted gaze when I came in the room, having very little reaction to me calling you Leviathan, your tea cup is still full and my side of the room is still messy." He seemed a little too pleased about that last bit.

"I know you went out tonight." He continued

"And what about it?"

"Who is she?!" Mike stood coming closer to sit on the edge of Levi's desk.

Levi rolled his eyes setting his cup down.

"Come on, I'm curious about some mysterious girl that has Levi Ackerman wrapped around her finger."

"Just shut up already." Levi replied turning his gaze to the window with a small pout.

"Fine, fine I'll shut up." Mike stood heading back towards his side of the room. An idea suddenly popped into his mind and he turned on his heel. "But.. I think I'll give Hange a call. You know.. cause I haven't talked to her in a bit-"

"When did you become so annoying?" Levi grumbled

"You're more aggressive tonight I like it. Is it because of her?"

As much as Levi wanted to fight it, Mike was one of those people that always got information about literally anything if he genuinely wanted it. Even if he didn't find out from Hange or Levi he was definitely going to find out from even the weirdest sources.

"Hange's friend.. she's not ugly I guess.." Levi could feel his face growing warm and he pulled his feet up onto his desk chair to hide it.

Mike laughed obnoxiously, "It's like watching a little kid finding out what a crush is." He chuckled "Super cute. So when are you going to ask her out?"

"Never."

Mike crossed the room again, seating himself on his bed. "You can't be serious! This is the first time I've ever seen you interested in girls and you're just gonna let her get away?"

"Stay out of my business, Michelangelo."

Mike just huffed reaching into his pocket to pry his phone out of his pocket. The room quickly grew quiet as Levi turned to his laptop though he was quickly distracted again by Mike's little chuckles. He turned his head in Mike's direction quickly catching the other male's gaze.

"By the way, Hange agrees with me." He said pointing to his phone.

Levi groaned, tugging at his hair. "Eat shit."

~ ~ ~ ~

Levi stared down at his watch with a soft tch.

It was 4pm and Hange was late again. He turned to Erwin who's face was currently pressed into a book. Thumb sliding along the sentences as he read.

"Where the hell is she?" He grumbled, shaking his mouse back and forth as the screen began to dim.

"She said she had to do something after class so she'd be a little late." Erwin replied, without looking up from his book.

"That's her excuse every time." Levi replied with a roll of his eyes.

Erwin just shrugged. Hange was always late. Sometimes she just showed up 30 minutes late with no real explanation and sometimes she showed up an hour late saying she had, had something to do after class. But every time the three of them got together to study she was late.

"Yo! Levi!" Hange greeted as she walked into the library ignoring the chorus of shushing that followed her.

Levi's scowl deepened, "Were you stuck on the toilet waiting for someone to fuck off?" He asked

"I have a great surprise follow me." She clapped in delight.

Erwin looked to Levi and then in the direction Hange had left in. He slowly pushed his chair out looking at Levi's irritated scowl.

"Are you coming."

"Whatever it is, is definitely stupid knowing Hange." Levi retorted, packing his belongings up in an orderly fashion.

The two of them quickly left before Hange could come back to ruin the peace again. They pushed through the library doors and standing against the wall with a somewhat bashful expression was Y/N with Hange who smiled brightly as if she wasn't currently disturbing Levi's peace.

"Oh hello Y/N." Erwin greeted, he looked over at Levi before asking. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh well Hange invited-"

"Ah ha ha! Y/N has homework to do so I figured she could come study with us. Though today me and Erwin have a thing." She quickly grabbed Erwin's arm yanking him over to her.

"But I was-" Erwin tried but was instantly silenced by Hange's hand over his mouth.

"You and Levi can study. Levi's great with everything! Right Levi? Ok me and Erwin will go now, by you two!"

"Hange!" Levi tried, his face already flushed with heat over the whole situation. Hange was surprisingly fast though, managing to drag Erwin away so quick they were a couple of dots within seconds.

Levi and Y/N stood in silence for a couple seconds before Y/N let out a deep exhale. "I feel as though we've been set up." She says, toying with the zippers on her back.

Levi can only manage a grunt in reply. Not daring to look into her eyes. "Well I mean.." she starts turning to Levi. "I actually do.. have to study so.. I wouldn't mind if you don't." She shrugged

"Mm.." Levi pulled open the library door for Y/N and lead her over the seats that him and Erwin had been sitting in only moments before.

He made a mental note as he opened his laptop again to keep the door locked next time Hange said she was coming over. Around 10 minutes went by of complete silence and Levi was incredibly happy for it.

Not because he was focusing, no his attention had been completely taken away from any possible work he could've gotten done here. There was no way he was actually going to be able to do anything when your scent was trapped in his nose and his eyes kept staring over his screen at your fingers.

Knuckles that Levi honestly wanted to kiss and fingernails completely devoid of dirt which Levi was instantly captivated by.

"Hey-"

He sat up straight, his own hands slightly curling around the aged wood of the table. Your book came sliding toward him and he looked down at it before looking back at you.

"I don't really get this? Could you help me a bit?"

Levi nodded before his brain could properly process what you'd asked. He almost thought he imagined the way your lip tucked itself under your teeth. And he felt dazed as your scent washed over him all at once as you slid into the seat next to him.

You pointed to your book and Levi tried to pay attention to your question but your notes threw him a bit. All the words were written in different colors and there were squiggly lines around definitions and texts. Small doodles between paragraphs as a way to properly space them and stars next to the most important words.

You scratched at your scalp and he took notice. "I paid attention when my professor was going over this I swear. But I don't really get it?? It can't be as difficult as I'm making it in my head." Your giggle of nervousness took Levi back a little.

The warm pit in his chest deepened and he sighed, trying to accurately assess the situation.

"Y-you made a small.. mathematical error." He explained, his fingers pointed to the equation as he tried to push away the ball in his throat. "You don't need these numbers."

Her smile hit Levi like a truck as it was instantly directed towards him. "Ah, you're so smart." Y/N said "What about this? I checked with the calculator but my answer was way off."

It was hard for Levi to ignore the way your shoulder rubbed up against his sending sparks all through his body like a tidal wave. It was honestly a little overwhelming.

"Oh sorry, am I too close?" You moved away and Levi gulped. He stared at your fingers, he didn't want you to move away.

He was surprised when he looked up and instantly made eye contact with you. "Stay." It probably didn't come out the way he'd wanted but he'd managed it and on some level he was proud of himself.

You smiled, "Sure."

After a while Levi felt himself loosen up a bit but the knot in his stomach was still very much there and alive. He found himself chuckling at your little jokes and he was mostly able to look you in the eyes. (As long as you didn't smile directly at him).

The first hour had been studying with small quips from your end that Levi found he enjoyed. Though around the third hour it turned into horror stories about present and past roommates.

Your laugh was so bright as you tapped your pen cap against the table. "And then Sasha just cracks the window open though it's definitely too late cause Connie had already created a war zone in our room." You were shaking so much from laughter that Levi was honestly a little worried you'd fall out of your chair.

He shook his head where he was resting it in his palm. "I still think Mike forgetting the do not disturb sign was worse." He shrugged

"Mm well maybe someday I'll have a story that bad. Considering Connie and Sasha have been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse for two years now."

Levi shook his head. "You don't want to walk in on your roommate having sex. No one does.."

He felt his cheeks flush over again. Whether it was from the story or the way you'd playfully pushed his shoulder though he couldn't tell. He watched as you positioned yourself back in the seat next to him.

"Ok, ok. You told me about your roommates relationships. Now tell me about yours."

"What?"

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "You know the in and out of Levi. I'm curious."

Levi's gaze fell to the table. "There's nothing to tell."

Y/N's voice immediately softened. "Sorry, didn't mean to try and pull it out of you."

Levi picked up his head closing his laptop. "I-I just.. never felt that way.." he tried

"Not everyone goes to college and high school and stuff for the parties, drugs and sex." You said, laying your elbows against the desk. "I commend you for having a goal and sticking with it."

Levi's heart stuttered at your words. "Did you come.. or well.. umm? What did you-"

He was interrupted by your hand on his shoulder again. "To answer your question." You leaned in closer your breath tickling Levi's earlobe. "Yes I did come specifically for the drugs."

Levi's eyes practically bulged out of his head. This time when you laughed you were met with shushing and stares. "Sorry." You whispered, popping a hand over your mouth. "I'm completely joking." You then said to Levi who's shoulders relaxed with the information.

Levi's signature deadpanned expression was starting to make an appearance now. "That's not funny."

"Hmm.. well I'm laughing so." Y/N laid her head on the table.

"Your humor is shit." He said

"Funny you say that." She laughed back a smirk was playing at Levi's lips. "Hey." Y/N broke the lingering silence.

"What?"

"Give me your number."

"Tch, nice way to ask."

Y/N pretended to be shocked. "Oh, would you prefer I beg?"

Levi already knew how red his entire face had become. No need to check a mirror. "H-hand me your p-phone."

Unsurprisingly even her phone wa as cute. And Levi honestly wanted to admire the case and how warm it felt after being in your pockets. Oh.. you'd touched it with your warm hands. Levi couldn't help but think about how warm your hands must feel. How the spaces between your fingers looked so perfect. Like they-

"Hey." A voice shook Y/N and Levi.

"Jean, what're you doing here?" Y/N asked as she stood moving closer to him.

"You've been gone all day. I had to ask Sasha where you were."

"No, you didn't because you didn't need to come here." Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Who's this?" Jean asked gesturing to Levi with his head. Levi felt his chest flare a little.

"Ugh, it doesn't matter because it has nothing to do with you!" She quickly grabbed her bag stuffing her notebook inside. "I'll talk to you later Levi." She explained her face still completely unamused. And with that she was pushing Jean out the door following him right out.

Levi's fingers dug into his palm. Who was that? It couldn't have been her boyfriend right? No, no that didn't make sense.

He started to pack up himself when he noticed your pretty phone sat next to his ordinary black one.

~ ~ ~ ~

Levi practically slammed into his dorm room scaring Mike who had his music blasting. Levi set his bag down on his chair, placing his phone on the desk.

"Hey man." Mike greeted as Levi quickly unpacked his other stuff. "I heard Hange forced you to go on a study date."

"I'm going to murder her." Levi turned, practically slamming his notebook into the desk. So hard that he could've sworn Mike jumped.

"Yeah what else is new?" He laughed trying to clear the air. "But did you at least get in close?"

Levi rolled his eyes. "She's.. there's this guy.."

Mike grew quiet for a few seconds. "You think she's with him?"

Levi normally wouldn't indulge Mike like this but his chest felt so tight that he was pretty sure he was going to burst. "She didn't seem happy to see him. She was like rolling her eyes when he came."

"Maybe he's just some guy then?"

"What if he isn't?"

"By the way you're describing it they'll break up soon anyway." Mike said "But that's great my plan worked."

Levi narrowed his eyes, "The library thing was you?"

Mike shrugged, "Hey, It could've been worse! Hange wanted to lock you guys in a supply closet for the night."

"Sleep with one eye open." Levi huffed, placing your phone down on his desk.

Mike immediately noticed, sitting up and placing his own phone to the side. "Don't tell me you murdered her and stole her phone for having a boyfriend that wasn't you." He chuckled

"Tch, she accidentally left it."

"How are you gonna return it?"

"I'll ask Hange for her dorm number tomorrow and I'll hand it over then."

"Ooo, well I would tell you not to go looking through her phone while you have it. But you're not like me so.." Mike shrugged, laying down with both hands holding his phone above his head.

Levi looked at Mike and then at your phone sitting on his desk. He silently looked away, putting away the rest of his stuff with a huff.

[boltwrites]

BOLIN TREAT BOLIN TREAT BOLIN TREAT - 🌻

trick or treat!

by clicking read more you verify that you are at least 18 years old

13 - modern au - cute clothes

A/N: HEY 🌻 ANON HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS??? i did NOT pick this on purpose it was generated THAT’S A 1/50 CHANCE??? brb dying (also this isn’t that spicy i just figured that the mental imagery was uh... a bit much fjkwbnks)

one of your favorite things to do with your boyfriend - like most couples - is just to hang out together, both of you scrolling on your phones, cuddled up to one another as you just enjoyed existing together

and ever since you got tiktok a few months ago, you loved to show Bolin the content that would show up on your for you page. most of it was just dumb stuff - cute baby animals, a funny skit, a couple’s meme that was so “us” that you had to show him

however, as you scrolled, sent videos, and liked videos, your experience became more tailored to your interests

and, well - 

“whatcha watching?” Bolin asked, one time, peeking over your shoulder. you practically jumped out of your skin. you had earbuds in and hadn’t even heard him walk in - still only in a towel from his shower. you all but screeched, and Bolin waved his hands wildly, trying to calm you? catch you? you didn’t know

“jesus christ Bo, you scared the shit out of me,” you gasped, hand over your heart. Bolin pouted at you, squinting his eyes. oh no, he was on to you. he knew you too well - he could tell you were trying to hide whatever it was you were watching

“no changing the subject! what was that?” he asked again, clearly interested. fine - you sighed, he had caught you

“it’s just a tiktok - i’ve been getting a bunch of, uh...”

“is he - ?” Bolin continued to watch, his eyebrows raising. you scratched your head as he blinked. a little blush growing on his cheeks. “oh.”

“yeah, apparently guys in maid costumes is pretty popular,” you tried to laugh it off, as if you hadn’t been imagining your boyfriend in one for the past week and a half. but you didn’t want to bring it up with him - Bolin wasn’t an eboy by any means

in fact, he probably fell more under the “sporty” genre of boys - he went to the gym multiple times a week, and while he didn’t wrestle anymore, he was on a club rugby team. you had met some of his teammates - they were all hypermasculine, and they were always picking on poor Bo, who liked fruity drinks and tiny animals

you didn’t think he would be interested in anything like that. 

“and you like that? guys in maid costumes?” he asked you, returning your phone. you, not wanting to pressure him (or be judged by him - you two hadn’t been dating for very long and you didn’t want to mess it up) just shrugged, trying to be as noncommittal as possible

“i mean, it’s cute sometimes,” you relented

Bolin looked at you - opened his mouth, then closed it, still blushing, but unsure of what to say, so he just shrugged himself, running a hand through his damp hair. “i- yeah, sure!” he tried to be supportive, but you could tell that something was nagging at him, and your face fell. well, there was your answer - you’d probably never see your boyfriend in a maid outfit - or even a skirt, as you watched him throw on some old basketball shorts and one of the free shirts they handed out on campus all the time

it’s ok, you tried to assure yourself. you didn’t mind that Bolin wasn’t into it. what made him comfortable was the most important thing, and if he wasn’t confident in something, you would never want to force him to wear it.

so, that was that. you thought.

until you tried to surprise him at his apartment. you were going to bring him some of his favorite food, since you knew he had a huge exam the day before - but as you let yourself in (he never locked the door), you didn’t see him.

you shrugged, putting the food away in the fridge before you decided to look for him. you made your way to his room, knocking quietly, but not waiting before you stuck your head in

“Bo, are you-” your eyes widened

Bolin squealed, jumping probably a foot in the air. and when he did - he - the goddamn bell on a choker around his neck jingled. and the bells on the cuffs around his hands. and the bells on his fucking cat ears.

and the shirts on his little maid uniform flounced

your eyes had to be as big as saucers as Bolin almost fell flat on his ass

“Y/n! You didn’t say you were coming over!” Bolin’s voice wavered, cracking as he tried to chuckle through the clear embarrassment on his face. you tried to calm down - your own face heating up as you desperately tried not to check him out - 

but how couldn’t you? he was wearing thigh highs and a short skirt, and you couldn’t stop looking at his legs. you cleared your throat, leaning heavily against the doorframe

“i - uh,” you tried to make words but none came out. “uh, fuck. you look nice.” you stumbled over the words as Bolin shifted awkwardly in his outfit - and he kicked a pretty big cardboard box. likely the box that all of this had come in

“you don’t have to say that,” Bolin tried to laugh, waving his hands - then stopping, when the bells jingled. “look, we can just - close the door, and i’ll take this off, and we’ll pretend it never happened! it’s fine!” his voice squeaked, and his poor blush was so red

but you shook your head, kind of violently. “no! i mean - if you want to, we can, but - i do think you look nice. really nice, Bo. i’m serious,” you stepped forward, wringing your hands as you tried very, very hard not to touch him

your words seemed to change his entire demeanor. his eyebrows raised and he stumbled over his words, stuttering before he finally spat out “really?”

you explained to him that - yeah, you thought he looked really nice, and you had actually wanted him to wear a maid costume for a while, but you thought he would say no and you didn’t want to pressure him - 

he stopped you with a hand, and then his smile grew, and his confidence returned

“OK, good, because that was the idea, but i was gonna bring it up a little later and i didn’t want you to just walk in on me in a maid costume for no reason - obviously, that didn’t go to plan,” he gestured towards you, and you laughed.

“do you like it?” you asked, finally stepping behind him, as Bolin looked at himself in the mirror. he looked very cute, you had to admit. wherever he had gotten this from, it was pretty nice quality

“i think i need different thigh highs,” he complained, and as you looked down, you did noticed that they had migrated down below his knees. you chuckled

“your thunder thighs can’t be contained” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “also i like the cat ears. nice touch.”

“thanks, i did research,” he grinned, with a little eyebrow waggle. you almost broke down laughing just at that

honestly, the maid outfit was really fun. you two did your favorite things together - you had your food (Bolin made sure to tuck himself a little napkin bib to make sure he didn’t get any food on his outfit) , watched some netflix, and hung out together on his bed, scrolling through social media. 

you couldn’t keep your hands off of him, honestly - sitting on his lap, or with your head on his legs, your hands on his thighs

you also loved ringing the little bells on his neck and cat ears - he was so cute

and, maybe, just maybe, while you were laying together and scrolling through tiktok... you may have just casually watched a video about pegging for a little too long

who knows. maybe one day you’ll walk into his apartment and he’ll have a lovely strap all ready for you. he was, after all, a very attentive boyfriend.

[fromthewifecage]

Kombatants and a clumsy S/O (aka: Oh shit I just dropped my sandwich on the floor)

This idea for some headkanons came from a silly chat with @gojihime99, and I just had to write something. Also I’m suffering from pretty horrendous PMT this month and occasionally, amongst the anger and annoying fits of sobbing, I become even more clumsy that normal. I’ve almost fallen down the stairs so many times in the last 2 days that I have no idea how I haven’t seriously hurt myself. This includes Erron Black, Johnny Cage (mention of Younger!Johnny but focused on Dad!Johnny), Nightwolf, Bi-Han, Kenshi (yes @malicedragoness, I finally included him for you, sorry it’s not full on filth), Kabal and Kano (again Kano is last so if you don’t like him you can ignore the end). It’s aiming for humour and fluff, with a hint of smut. Hope you like :D It’s quite long so do keep reading after the cut! Erron Black: This man has the reflexes of a magician. He’ll be relaxing with you, an arm slung around your shoulders, one hand stroking through your hair, whilst his other hand will be dancing a coin across his knuckles. You’re not complaining, talented fingers are very useful after all, but it’s unfair that he never seems to drop anything or even have to concentrate on making sure he doesn’t spill his drink when he’s carrying it, your drink, a bowl of snacks, and some napkins because it’s inevitable that you’ll spill said drink at least once. “Noooooooooo!” Erron appears in the doorway, thumbs hooked into his belt, feet crossed nonchalantly and a massive smirk on his infuriatingly sexy lips. “What you dropped this time, darlin’?” “Sandwich.” He snorts and saunters away, spurs jingling, the noise only half covering his low rumbly laughter. Sexy bloody bastard. Well the floor is clean, he knows you drop stuff occasionally (all the time) and so he takes time to mop the floor, all so you can take advantage of the 5 second rule. And he mops topless because it means you’ll get all hot and red and then your clothes will fall off and you’ll both end up fucking on the kitchen worktops. “Noooooooooo!” This time it’s Erron yelling and you running into the bedroom. There you find Erron sprawled on the bed, his smirk even smirkier. “You ok?!” “Looks like I fell on the bed. Gosh darn it.” His smirk curls into a predatory grin that sends a deep aching pulse to your core. Ugh. Stupid sexy bastard. Then ‘oh nooooo’ you’ve fallen too. And your clothes soon fall to the floor. Gosh darn it. Keep reading for more idiocy after the cut...

Johnny Cage: Younger!Johnny has no time for clumsiness and will roll his eyes whenever you trip up the stairs (how is that even a thing? Surely gravity should stop that? Stupid science). He’s a bit of a twat, let’s be honest. It’s when baby Cassie comes along that he experiences his own clumsiness for the first time. Being woken countless times a night and surviving for months on little to no sleep turns the once smoothly graceful man into a stumbling mess. It also shows him how dangerous a home can be and after he’s tripped over a dropped baby bottle seemingly 100 times in one night that he calls in his PA and has the apartment (Penthouse) baby (and sleepy Dad) proofed. Dad!Johnny is a much more understanding and kind man. “Noooooooooo!” Johnny runs into the kitchen, hair wet from the shower and sticking up in every possible direction, towel flapping, fists held in front of him, his entire body radiating green light. “You ok, baby?” You’re speechless, scared and he’s now worried. It’s after a good few minutes of him searching the kitchen, spouting off threats of serious bodily harm that you find your voice. “I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with me I didn’t mean to I’m sorry please don’t Hulk-out!” He’s puzzled at first, and kinda worried you’re unwell. that’s when he notices the green glow lighting up the kitchen. His face flushes red and he’s so damn adorable that you can’t help but pull him into your arms, and when you finally get him to tell you about the ‘glow’ you just about die with happiness. You wake him up the next morning wearing all the green clothes you own. “You ‘Hulking-out’ now, sweetheart?” “It’s my way of glowing, you know, cos I love you too.” Maybe you didn’t need to dig out that ill fitting green shirt, because he has that off you in mere seconds, and everything else you’re wearing. Neither of you leave the bedroom until you really need a sandwich. And he offers to make it this time. Nightwolf: He’s not one to comment on any clumsiness, that would be mean and the last thing he’d ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or ashamed of something you can’t really control. If you repeatedly drop or squish things he’ll rearrange his home to make it easier for you to move without bashing your hip into the edge of the table, repeatedly. He’ll think about why you might be clumsy, are you not paying attention, or is the table possessed by an evil demon who likes to watch you hurt yourself on it’s sharp corners? Maybe you’re overly stressed by your job? He wants to help, he wants you to be happy and besides, if your hip is sore then that might get in the way of rolling about naked together in the forest and that is not ok. “Noooooooooo!” Nightwolf runs into the kitchen in the most heroic way, hair loose and majestic, an axe tightly held ready to vanquish whatever is making you shout. He finds you pouting at a happy Kiba licking at the floor. “Are you alright, my love?” When it comes out that you’re sad because you dropped your sandwich on the kitchen floor and Kiba snaffled it in one big bite, Nightwolf is stunned. He puts down the axe and pulls you into his arms, stroking your back and trying oh so very hard not to laugh. “I’ll make you a new one, and we can go outside and watch the sunset whilst you eat it.” Nightwolf is the best. Especially when he’s butt naked and howling with pleasure into the night as you ride him, sandwich forgotten and uneaten in the picnic basket he put together. Bi-Han: The man can move as silently as smoke and as fluidly as water, so honestly, your clumsiness does annoy him. But he does admire that you don’t make a big deal (usually), that you clean up any mess, and you don’t ask him to modify his home to suit you, rather you accept you’re going to bash your hips against the edge of the table, or hit your head when you open a cabinet when looking for his secret chocolate supply (he’ll deny he has one). If you’re living together or at least spending time together out of bed, then he has actual feelings for you, so accepts your clumsiness as part of you, and wouldn’t dream of asking or trying to get you to change. He loves you as you are, clumsy dork or not, and you love him just the way he is, a big scary (sexy) assassin. “Noooooooooo!” Bi-Han saunters into the kitchen. He’s an exceptionally skilled assassin, he can tell if there is someone else is in the house, and it’s just you, and from the sound of it, you’ve dropped your sandwich. He leans against the doorframe and watches you sulk. “You’re cute when you pout.” You have to stomp over to the fridge to hide the smile that tries to erase your pout. When you find you’ve had the last of the cheese you really do pout. Bi-Han just grins that infuriating gin of his and nods towards a bag on the table. Inside is cheese, crisp salad leaves and your favourite bread from your favourite bakery, all the way over the other side of town. He knew you were running low on supplies and didn’t want you to go hungry. You reward him with a long lingering kiss and don’t even mention the blood smear staining the bag. Best not to. Plus Bi-Han has his hands under your top and you’d really rather not distract him from that. Kenshi: He would never deliberately intrude upon your thoughts without your express permission, but sometimes, especially if you’re thinking hard or are emotional about something, your thoughts project too loudly to ignore. There are also times that Kenshi feels he has to read your thoughts, for example if you’re upset or he’s genuinely worried about you. Your clumsiness confused him at first, he’d hear shrieks or thuds, you’d wince if he pressed against a bruise as his hands explored your body, and it took him breaching his own rules on telepathy and reading your mind to see what really happened. So he was relieved to find that you were not in danger, no-one was hurting you or making you anxious enough to lose focus and hurt yourself; you just lost focus on your surroundings, weren’t spatially aware of your own body or were paying attention to something else enough to walk into the wall, again. “Noooooooooo!” Kenshi strolls into the kitchen as the sandwich levitates off the ground and back onto the plate you’re holding. “My hero!” You squeak and rush to hug him. He’s a fantastic hugger so you barely need an excuse to wrap your arms around his wiry frame. The sandwich starts sliding off the plate again so Kenshi calmly hovers them both onto the table to let you hug him tighter. “Was this just a ploy to get me in your arms?” You laugh and hug him tighter. “No, but would you object if I tried it in the future? Or we can just pretend I’ve dropped my sandwich and you can still be all handsome and heroic and save me from possessed food?” His laughter is silenced by your lips pressing to his own and hands that tug at his crisply pressed shirt. His smile is too beautiful not to kiss. Kabal: Not only is he a speed demon, but he’s graceful as well. Quite how he can zip around at speeds so fast Sonic would be jealous AND manage not to knock anything over and avoid pedestrians is frankly unfair. At the start of your relationship he’ll zoom around moving things out of your way, but after you explain it feels overly protective and nannying, he stops (unless you're in serious danger). He understands your need to feel free, to grab onto any small chunks of personal freedom that you can, and admires that you can accept your ‘flaws’. He does tease you about it if you bump into something, but gently and with a smile, and he knows you can’t resist his smiles, so it’s doubly good, right? “Noooooooooo!” He’s there before you finish groaning out your frustration. “You ok?” “Dropped my sandwich.” He can’t help but laugh. “And there was me thinking it was a monster. Kinda hoped it was a monster so I could show off and slice it into pepperoni so you’d swoon and offer me anything I wanted for being your saviour.” “Oh, is that how it is?” You grin and grab a hold of his shirt, tugging him to press against you. He raises an eyebrow and grins, eyes sparkling. “You want me to get on my knees and show you how grateful I am for you rescuing me from the big bad sandwich?” It’s after you both breathlessly get to your feet having rolled around on the kitchen floor, that you notice what happened to the sandwich. Kabal jokingly offers you the bum-flattened bread. You both end up on the floor again when you tell him you’d rather eat his ass. Kano: Drop his stuff and he’ll get pissed off, drop your own and he’ll laugh. And if you drop food then he’s fully into the 5 second (or minutes/hours) rule. Food is food, and when you grow up dirt poor then a little bit of floor on your sandwich isn’t enough to throw it away. If you’re in a casual/fuck buddy thing with him then he’s not going to see you enough to witness your clumsiness, but once he develops feelings for you and wants you around, he finds pretty much everything you do cute and lovable. “Noooooooooo!” Kano barrels into the kitchen like a sexy (sexier?) crocodile Dundee, knives out, tits out, red eye glowing menacingly. He’s used to all manner of fuck off deadly shit in Australia, and in Russia you may not have ‘death on eight legs’ or Jaws waiting mouth open in a puddle, but you do get bears, wolves, and angry bastards who’ve run out of vodka. “You ok, love?” You pout and point to the floor. Your meticulously made sandwich (and you’d been thinking about it all day) lay on the floor. “Well, whilst you’re down there, love?” His grin is filthy and despite the horrendous line, you laugh. “Oh no, think it’s my turn, don’t you?” “Don’t have to ask me twice.” For a man his size he is far faster than you’d imagine, and he has his tongue inside you before you can really catch your breath. He even gives you the bigger half of the sandwich afterwards. He’s a softy really.

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Christmas Special

It’s the Ripped Christmas Special! Where Ripped is during Christmas.  It’s...wow they’re them all the time

Ao3

“We could have ordered a tree online, you know,” Snotlout huffs, readjusting his grip around the freshly cut trunk of the seven-foot Fraser fir between them, his breath a puff of steam in the alley air.  Someone opens their back door to throw a bag of trash into a dumpster and he jumps. 

Hiccup rolls his eyes, “then we wouldn’t have gotten to pick it out.” 

“Ok, we could have ordered a plastic tree online, since all of those look the same.”  He starts walking, making Hiccup stumble backwards and catch himself on an alley wall, brick scraping against his glove.  “Let’s get this home before we get murdered.” 

“No murderers here,” Hiccup starts shuffling forward again anyway, “or at least I thought you caught them all, detective.” 

“You think you can just mention my promotion and I’ll forget you’re a magnet for horrible, murderous luck?” 

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs, sighing when he hears the music accompanying the streetlamp glow introducing itself to the mouth of the alley.  “Great, Christmas Carolers.” 

“Lugging a giant tree across downtown is fine, but some cold people singing ‘Jingle Bells’ is too much holiday cheer for you.  That makes sense.”  Snotlout rolls his eyes, relaxing when he emerges onto the well-lit sidewalk half a block down from their front door.  One of the carolers looks surprised to see them and Hiccup gives a half-hearted wave before tucking his chin to his chest to hopefully avoid interaction. 

“Do you need some help with that?”  A man’s voice infused with the probable self-importance of ‘Chief Caroler’ asks and Hiccup shakes his head. 

“Nope, we’re almost home, thanks though.” 

“Well, any requests for music while you work?” 

“Silent night?”  Hiccup snips but the intended insult goes over the man’s head as he conducts his jolly group in the first few offkey notes of the song. 

Getting the tree up the stairs ends in casualties of a few lower branches and the rest of Snotlout’s patience when Hiccup accidentally props the tree up on his foot, but it’s worth it when he opens the door and sees Astrid’s face light up.   Or maybe her face doesn’t light up, maybe it just reflects some of the hundreds of multicolor lights she’s strung around the apartment since he left for work this morning.  Either way, it’s worth half an hour of dealing with cold, murder-paranoid Snotlout. 

“Can we please get this fire hazard inside already?”  Snotlout barks from behind the tree in the hallway and Hiccup barely catches his end as it tips forwards, shedding a shower of pine needles on the floor. 

“You got a tree,” Astrid practically bounces over to help, taking Snotlout’s end from him and steering Hiccup to a patch of bare floor by the front window where a plastic tree stand is already sitting. 

“I told you I would,” he nudges the tree stand with his toe, “you said you were getting a tree stand, what did you intend to put in it?  A bush?” 

“Just a second,” Astrid sets the trunk down before kneeling to adjust the tree stand in some way, “I figured since you were walking, it’d be smaller.” 

“Snotlout graciously volunteered to help me carry it,” Hiccup gives his cousin the credit he doesn’t deserve as Astrid places the trunk in the stand, absently directing Hiccup to lean the tree this way and that until she deems it perfect and starts screwing it into place. 

“Anything for you mom,” Snotlout grins. 

“Don’t.”  Hiccup narrows his eyes, “not tonight.  Not tomorrow.   Not this whole visit, ok?  Do not.” 

“Don’t what?” 

“You know what.”  He relaxes only slightly when Eretson appears from Snotlout’s room.  Snotlout can’t be too obvious with his boyfriend in the room, right? 

Then again, Eretson isn’t wearing his business-like ‘keep his employee-slash-boyfriend under control’ suit or expression.  Instead, he’s wearing felt reindeer antlers and a sweater that says ‘Tree-Rex’ under a dinosaur wrapped in little flickering lights. 

“There,” Astrid pops up, clapping her hands together and taking a step back to examine the tree. 

The fierce light that bloomed in her eyes when he casually mentioned decorating for Christmas in preparation for his mom’s visit only brightens and it’s almost enough that he doesn’t notice her bulky sweater striped with chunky knitted green trees and white reindeer on a fuzzy, well worn red background. 

“So Eretson borrowed the getup from you, I see,” he puts his hands on her waist and turns her to face him, earning about as much of her attention as someone distracting Michelangelo from the brick of marble that would become a statue of David. 

“Hmm?”  She frowns, glancing at Eretson, “no.  He just has Christmas spirit, unlike some people.”  She looks disparagingly at the plain blue sweater peeking out of his jacket. 

“I thought he was going to yell at the carolers outside.”  Snotlout greets Eretson with a tip-toed kiss on the cheek and it’s still weird how pleased Eretson manages to look about it. 

“Lights, where did I put the lights?” Astrid will not be kept long from her tree and she pats Hiccup’s arm as she steps out of his grip. 

“Over here,” Eretson produces another box from a bag on kitchen counter and tosses them to her, “and Hiccup, really, Eret is fine.” 

“Right,” Hiccup shakes his head, hanging his jacket up and looking down to make sure that there’s nothing actually wrong with his sweater.  Work clothes still feel like a costume more often than not, and while he’s ok with Astrid judging him on lack of Christmas themed patterns, he was hoping to look at least marginally like an adult tonight, “sorry, just habit.  I’m not used to being on a first name basis with my lawyer.”  His laugh is awkward, hollow, and everyone else rolls their eyes. 

“He hasn’t been your lawyer in like eight months, dude,” Snotlout idly takes a price sticker off of the bottom of a golden reindeer that has taken up residence on the coffee table. 

“I know,” Hiccup turns back to the tree to hide his blush when he inevitably remembers that Eretson also wasn’t his lawyer last month when he accidentally walked in on him in the shower.  Which is good, because that’s definitely breaching some client-lawyer-confidentiality agreement, or something else legal, or something. 

So, it’s good their legal involvement was over.  For all parties. 

“What time’s your mom getting here?”  Astrid asks, fussing over making the lights even as they spiral around the tree. 

His breath catches briefly as the feeling that this apartment wasn’t ever really home without her hits him again in one of those random, familiar waves that he still can’t make himself get used to.  Sometimes she’ll swear over the fire alarm after burning breakfast or he’ll find one of her pristine paperbacks on the coffee table and he’s smacked with overwhelming nostalgia for something he hopes to never, ever have to miss. 

“Come here,” he grabs her elbow, itchy wool on his palm only magnifying the feeling of home as he kisses her. 

She sighs into it, indulging him with a hand torn briefly away from the tree to rest on his hip as his fingers cup the back of her neck, tangling in soft hair. 

“Well, we don’t need this mistletoe then,” Snotlout scoffs and Hiccup registers just enough to flip him off as he pulls away, dropping one last kiss on Astrid’s nose and smiling to himself when it wrinkles. 

“Maybe we do,” Eretson puts an arm over Snotlout’s shoulders, “to contain them in one area.” 

Astrid glares at the both of them, arms wrapping slowly around Hiccup’s neck as she turns back to him, confusion knitting her brows together, “what were we talking about?” 

“I have no idea,” he sets his hands on her waist, “the fact that Christmas carolers in this area are operating on a fraudulent myth that singing songs on the sidewalk has anything to do with the Grimborn investigation during Christmas eighteen-eighty-three?” 

“No, that definitely wasn’t it.” 

“Because that doesn’t make sense, given that A Christmas Carol was released in eighteen-eighty.” 

“Ok, Scrooge.”  She rolls her eyes but kisses him again, sweater sleeves rubbing against the side of his neck. 

“Was it that itchy wool gives me a rash?”  He teases but it doesn’t crack the shell of her recovered concentration.

“No,” she bites her lip and he barely resists the urge to kiss her again, “oh!  I forgot to set the yaknog out.” 

“Yaknog?”  Hiccup and Snotlout ask at the same time and Eretson nods. 

“She let me try some earlier, it’s good.” 

“It’s to be respected,” she kisses Hiccup on the cheek before letting go and rushing to the fridge to pull out a large glass pitcher filled with cream colored liquid.  “But it is delicious.” 

“It’s eggnog,” Snotlout says after a first weary sip before taking another and Eretson pats him carefully on the shoulder.  “What’s the difference between eggnog and yaknog?” 

“The amount of rum I saw disappear into that pitcher,” Eretson says respectfully and Astrid grins, handing Hiccup a glass. 

“That’s why Ruffnut named it yaknog,” she explains, “if it is not respected, it will make you yak.” 

“It’s good,” Hiccup compliments, even though he can’t say he’s ever been an eggnog fan.  Then again, he could be, especially when it makes Astrid smile again, reaching around him to take a package of shiny ornaments off of the counter and hold them up.

“Tree?” 

“Sure.”  He follows her back across the living room, obediently holding the package open for her to choose the first ornament to anoint the tree. 

“The thing that people get wrong about tree decorating is that you have to have a plan,” she instructs, tucking her hair behind her ear and carefully picking a shiny red bauble up by the gold ring at the top of it, like she’s trying not to smudge it. 

“You do?”  He watches her hang the first ornament as high as she can reach, oversized sweater pulling up barely enough to show the back pockets of her jeans.  “What happens if you just hang everything all willy-nilly?”  He takes a gold ornament out of the box and hangs it on the other side of the tree at about hip height. 

“It ends up unbalanced,” she purses her lips, undoing his decorating attempt and cleaning the smudges off of the ball on her sleeve before putting it back in functionally the same place. 

“Wait,” he hands her the box of ornaments, “I’ll be right back.” 

“I thought you were going to help,” she complains half-heartedly after him as he disappears into their unusually clean bedroom just long enough to grab the top hat from the bedpost. 

“Oh God, the dorky hat,” Snotlout complains, barely distracted from his debate with Eretson on the couch.  Hiccup ignores him. 

“If you’re going to instruct me in the art of proper Christmas tree decoration,” he sets it on her head and it slips slightly crooked, like it always does, “you need this.” 

“Fine,” she hands the box back to him and selects her next ornament, hanging it carefully on the tree. 

“What, exactly, would make a Christmas tree unbalanced?”  He loves when she takes things too seriously, assigning methods to things he’s always been sure were madness. 

“Bare patches,” she shrugs, “uneven distribution of color.” 

“Ok, that seems serious,” he jokes, handing her a blue ornament with a grip careful not to smudge and grinning when her warm fingers brush carefully over his, “and what are the consequences of having an unbalanced Christmas tree?” 

“Consequences?”  She looks up from under the brim of his hat, straightening it when it tips backwards. 

“Yeah, what…great harm will befall those dumb enough not to listen to your ancient knowledge of Christmas tree decoration?”  He realizes, with a jolt that makes time slow down, what exactly it means that he’s off work until the new year and she’s done with her semester.  That’s at least ten days at home with her, ten days around the soon to be perfect tree, ten days with the multicolor lights reflecting in her eyes. 

“Bad luck,” she nods solemnly. 

“Oof,” he holds the box of ornaments to the side to step closer and whisper, “I should be probably paying attention then, I’ve had enough bad luck this year.” 

“Not only bad luck, I hope.”

“Good too,” he assures, kissing her briefly and smiling when she forgets herself enough to press an ornament against his neck as her hand finds his cheek, “lots of good.”  He flips Snotlout off again when he groans, then tries to pry the ornament free of Astrid’s grip before she smashes it against his jaw. 

“Oh no,” she pulls back all of a sudden, staring from the tree to the counter where bags sit entirely depleted of Christmas decorations. 

“What is it?” 

“I forgot a star,” she blushes, messing with her hair and almost knocking the hat off of her head, “for the top of the tree.” 

“Oh,” he looks around, half wondering if Snotlout would consent to his badge being a shiny tree-topper at least for tonight, before the idea hits him.  “If I may…”  He plucks the hat off of her head and goes onto lopsided tip toes to set it carefully on the top of the tree.  It immediately falls slightly crooked, like it’s on a very rustic hat hook, and he expects Astrid’s too serious lecture about tree balance to start up again, but it doesn’t.  “Is that—”

“I love it,” she grins, “you obviously didn’t need tree decorating lessons, you’re a natural.” 

“You taught me everything I know,” he puts his hand on his heart to swear it and she rolls her eyes. 

“Help me get the rest of these on before—”

A knock at the door cuts her off and she freezes, eyes wide as she tugs at her sweater, shifting half a step back from him.  Right.  His mom.  That’s what she was asking about earlier before she distracted him. 

He checks the time right as Snotlout stands up from the couch. 

“I’ll get it.” 

“No, you won’t,” Hiccup rushes to the door but stumbles, wasting precious time juggling an open box half full of ornaments and ultimately losing the race. 

“Good evening, Miss Haddock,” Snotlout greets stepping aside to let Hiccup’s mom through, “may I say that you look particularly lovely this—”

“You may not,” Hiccup cuts him off, setting the box on the arm of the couch and resisting the urge to shove Snotlout out of the way.  “Hi Mom.” 

“Seeing Spitelout Jorgenson’s son grow up into such a polite young man,” his mom looks at him anxiously for a second and then sets a warm hand on his shoulder, “makes me wonder where I messed up.” 

“Hey!”  Hiccup laughs anyway and Snotlout holds out an arm. 

“Can I take your coat?” 

“I’ve got it,” Hiccup steps in, folding his mom’s coat awkwardly over his arm when she hands it to him. 

Is he supposed to introduce Astrid now?  Or get his mom settled first?  Should he have introduced her before he took his mom’s coat?  Should he have asked Eretson to take her coat, given that he trusts Eretson not to hit on his mom? 

“Oh, Miss Haddock,” Snotlout interrupts Hiccup’s racing thoughts and gestures to Eretson, who looks as composed as any grown man could in a novelty sweater and felt antlers, “I don’t believe you’ve met my boyfriend, Eret.” 

“He’s also my lawyer,” Hiccup blurts out, hastily tossing his mom’s coat onto his hat’s old peg on the coat rack.  He’s lucky that it doesn’t fall. 

He’s never introduced a girlfriend to his mom before, but he is relatively sure he was supposed to do that before introducing his lawyer.  Ex-lawyer.  Ex-lawyer, occasional victim of accidental shower peeping. 

At least he didn’t say that out loud. 

“Nice to meet you, Miss Haddock,” Eretson holds his hand out but Hiccup’s mom hugs him instead. 

“Valka is fine.”  She looks at Snotlout, “for all of you, really.” 

“Well, if you insist.”  Snotlout laughs how adults do when there’s no real joke, the laugh that Hiccup hasn’t even attempted to master. 

“Oh, and Mom?”  Hiccup clears his throat, stepping beside Astrid and grabbing her hand in his.  He wonders if she can feel him shaking and internally thanks her for not mentioning it.  “This is Astrid.  My girlfriend.  And Astrid, this is my mom.  Obviously.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Astrid squeezes his hand before letting it go and offering it to Hiccup’s mom.  There’s a tense millisecond before she gets a hug too, a little more enthusiastic than Eretson’s, if Hiccup isn’t mistaken, and he breathes a little easier.  “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“I wish I could say the same,” Hiccup’s mom laughs, hands on Astrid’s shoulders, “Hiccup has been very tight-lipped about this whole thing—”

“Mom,” he sounds fifteen when he whines, but he can’t seem to hold it back. 

“I half thought he’d made you up.” 

“Mom.” 

“He didn’t even mention how absolutely gorgeous you are.” 

 “Oh.  Thank you,” Astrid blushes, “can I get you anything?  Would you like some yaknog?” 

“Sure,” his mom agrees, asking ‘what the hell is yaknog’ with her eyes as she looks back at him.  “She really is beautiful—”

“I know,” he cuts her off before Astrid can hear again, fumbling for his own glass of yaknog and toasting in his mom’s direction, “and she makes great eggnog.  I mean yaknog.  It’s eggnog with a way higher rum quotient, I’m told.” 

“Merry Christmas,” his mom responds, humming appreciatively when she tries it. 

Snotlout offers suspiciously graciously to get his mom’s bag from the stairwell, and she accepts before sitting down at one end of the couch, by Eretson.  Snotlout’s seat is assumed, and that leaves the chair, which Hiccup sits in without thinking.  Usually, Astrid would just wedge herself in beside him or make herself comfortable on his lap, but of course she can’t do that now, because his mom is here. 

“Oh, sorry, you can have the, um, chair—” He starts to stand up, but she stops him, hand on his shoulder as she perches on the arm, resting her glass of yaknog on her knee. 

“So,” his mom leans forward slightly, looking around the apartment like she’s wondering how many of the little changes since she lived here are Astrid’s influence.  The answer is most of them, and Hiccup suddenly doesn’t know when he got so old that he didn’t have to ask permission for someone to move in with him.  He guesses he asked Snotlout without getting permission, but that’s different.  That’s a roommate.  “Tell me everything.” 

Eretson laughs, shooting Snotlout a knowing look when he comes back inside, arm on the back of the couch like an invitation to snuggle up together and watch the carnage.  Sometimes, he’s enough of an ass to deserve the ‘lawyer’ title. 

“Everything?”  Hiccup clears his throat, “what’s everything?  I mean, work is going great.  I just got a petition with over ten thousand signatures to save the Grand Hotel from being torn down up to the State Legislature.  I might even get to go defend it, which would be good because that’s how I got most of the ten thousand signatures, by promising people that if they signed my form, they’d be forcing me to talk in a very public, uncomfortable court, and I guess I was annoying enough that it’s something literal thousands of people wanted to force me to do.” 

He laughs.  No one else does.  Astrid squeezes his shoulder, half-comfort and half-reminder, and his mom’s eagle eyes snag on the motion. 

“You told me about your job on the phone,” she reminds him, “I was referring more to the fact that you’re living with a girlfriend you couldn’t find a minute to send me a picture of.” 

“Would you have believed him?”  Snotlout snorts, polite mask slipping for a second until Astrid glares at him.  “About the job.  Of course.  I’m shocked you believed that Hiccup got a job.  I hardly believed it, it’s really just Astrid being a good influence.” 

Eretson and Astrid share a look and he puts a hand on Snotlout’s shoulder, urging him quiet. 

“I heard you two met at your old apartment building?”  Hiccup’s mom directs the question at Astrid and she freezes, eyebrows raising, “was that before or after the ‘little run-in with the law’ that he told me about?” 

“Oh,” Astrid nods, “when you say everything, you mean that much everything.”  Her fingernails dig into Hiccup’s shoulder and his grin turns plastic. 

He didn’t know how to tell his mother that he got a little bit framed for serial murder, but it’s fine now, so he kind of just omitted the first half of the sentence. 

“Is that not how you met?”  Having his mom catch him in half a lie in front of his girlfriend is somehow worse than having his mom catch him in an absolute lie in any other circumstance.  Unpredictably, it’s worse that he’s an adult, a real adult with a job, who just started using beard oil because isn’t the mark of true adulthood the accumulation of small bottles in the bathroom?   

“Do you want to tell it, babe?”  Astrid asks, an edge in the pet name, and he sighs. 

“I’ll take your lead on this one.” 

“Well,” she takes a long drink of her yaknog before continuing, “I’m assuming you know that Hiccup used to do Viggo Grimborn tours.” 

His mom nods, “I was hoping to catch one on this trip, actually.” 

“I don’t actually do them anymore,” Hiccup shrugs, “but I suppose exceptions could be made.” 

“Anyway,” Astrid’s heel knocks against his metal shin as she swings her leg, mysteriously nervous rather than actually mad at him for lying by omission, “I happened to move into an apartment that featured on his tour.” 

“So, we did meet at your building, technically.” 

“Yeah, but I was in the building, and you were in the courtyard yelling about murder and shining a laser pointer into my bathroom,” she corrects him, voice softening throughout the sentence. 

“And you don’t react well to being startled,” he fills in, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “as evidenced by the fact that you threw your toothbrush at my head.” 

“Dropped it,” she insists, and he grabs her hand. 

“With deadly aim, sure.” 

“And I’m assuming you apologized,” Hiccup’s Mom raises her eyebrow and he nods. 

“Of course, I sent her a pizza.” 

“It didn’t stop you from coming back three times a night,” Astrid teases. 

“That explains the ‘run-in’ with the law,” his mom gives him a stern look, like he’s six and his dad caught him elbow deep in the cookie jar, so he’s actually in trouble, “it does leave me a little foggy as to why a seemingly smart girl like you moved in with someone who stalked her.” 

Astrid laughs, a little awkward, grip tightening on Hiccup’s hand like he’s her lifeline for once. 

“Technically he only stalked my apartment.”  She shrugs, “and he’s pretty persuasive.  Especially about being harmless.” 

“And lucky for him, you’re a huge nerd too,” Snotlout interjects, earning a blushing glare and an admonishing look from Eretson. 

“Yeah, lucky for me,” Hiccup agrees, because it is luck that Astrid wasn’t just an undeniably gorgeous and unmistakably violent woman who threw things at him.  He doesn’t know how much of his luck he spent for her to be so much more than that, but it’s worth it. 

“That’s quite the story,” his mom finishes her yaknog and Astrid gets up to refill it for her, shooting Hiccup a look that he doesn’t quite understand.  Almost checking in, almost worried, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because his mom turns to Eretson.  “Hiccup said you’re his lawyer, maybe you’re the one to ask about his ‘run-in’ with the law, as he puts it.” 

“Well,” Eretson looks almost panicked for a second, before adjusting his antlers and gesturing at Hiccup with the arm not over Snotlout’s shoulders, “given that I’m no longer his lawyer, I’m afraid you’ll have to direct all questions surrounding the dismissed case at my former client.” 

Snotlout snickers. 

“Is that what you would have said in court?”  Hiccup wipes his face, arms itching to pull Astrid into his lap when she sits back down on the arm of the chair, like he could hide behind her where he could pretend he’s not going to have to explain this to his mother.  “I’m shocked you didn’t see it on the news, Mom,” he gestures to his face, “it was everywhere, that’s why I ended up growing the beard, I didn’t actually take to fame as well as I thought I would.  I’m sure you remember the magic tricks?  I used to think I’d love to escape handcuffs on stage, but after I kind of did it, if the twenty-four-seven news racket counts as a stage, I discovered I kind of hated it—”

“I can’t take this anymore,” Snotlout stands up, hands held out like he’s projecting a scene onto a screen between them, “ok, so this really creepy dude infiltrated the police force and framed Hiccup for a bunch of murders—”

“Snotlout!”  Astrid tries to stop him, but he waves her off. 

“It’s your big meet-Hiccup’s-mom moment, I get you.  I’ve got you, she comes out of this story looking…like oh my God, I’m not going to spoil it, just—wait, did you hear I got shot?”  He pauses and then reaches for the hem of his shirt. 

“Snotlout!”  Hiccup snaps, almost knocking Astrid off of the arm of the chair as he jumps halfway to his feet. 

“I was just going to show her my scar.” 

“She doesn’t want to see your scar,” Hiccup assures him, sitting back down and tugging Astrid with him, his hips notched slightly behind hers so that they can share the chair.  She crosses her legs and her ankle slides across his knee, anchoring him for whatever spectacle he’s about to endure. 

Eretson has a stupid, bemused expression on his face that Hiccup only recognizes from his own reflection when he happens to be thinking about Astrid, and inviting his mother for Christmas was obviously a mistake. 

“I’ll skip to the good part,” Snotlout promises, “Hiccup is in jail, for multiple murders, and Astrid goes to visit him, but of course the bad guy chooses that time to gloat about it, and Astrid—this Astrid, right here, takes her umbrella,” he mimes a wide swing like he’s hitting a home run, “and shatters the creep’s nose.  One orbital socket too, I heard from the hospital.  I’ve seen the video it’s…” 

“Classified,” Eretson interrupts, “that case is still ongoing.” 

“It’s awesome,” Snotlout insists, “that’s what it is.” 

“It was nothing,” Astrid tries to hold some approximation of a humble expression but then she grins, allowing the compliment, “ok, it was pretty satisfying.” 

“Multiple murders,” Hiccup’s mom says slowly, eyebrows raised, and he gives into the urge to hide behind Astrid, chin on her shoulder, arm possessively around her waist as he shoots a glare at Snotlout for revealing that little tidbit of information, “quite the ‘run-in’.” 

“That I didn’t, you know, commit.”  He mumbles after a too long second, “I was framed.” 

It isn’t received as the comforting statement he was going for and he looks up at the lights strung around the window before whispering in Astrid’s ear. 

“How do I get the conversation off of murder and back to Christmas?” 

“I don’t know,” she flushes, whispering as quietly as possible as the three on the couch engage in halting small talk, “Jonbenet Ramsey?” 

Hiccup snorts even though he shouldn’t, burying his nose in her hair to try and hide it.  His humor has always skewed dark, and that’s probably why he’s not in a padded room right now, but the last thing he wants to do now is explain how Astrid’s knowledge of true crime beyond Grimborn is not only funny, but also endearing and kind of sexy in a way he can’t contemplate with his mom judging him. 

“What was that?”  His mom asks and Astrid’s neck warms as her blush travels down it. 

“Nothing.”  She clears her throat, patting Hiccup’s arm for him to let her up and take all of her warmth and protection with her.  “I was about halfway through decorating the tree when you got here, I think I’ll go finish that.” 

“Can I help?”  His mom offers and while his first instinct is to follow and make sure that everything goes well, Astrid is far more capable of assuring that particular outcome than he is. 

“Yeah, that’d be great.” 

Hiccup tries not to watch them.  He offers to order a pizza, because of course he didn’t plan for dinner in the rush of getting the tree and he doesn’t think anywhere delivers a whole Christmas goose on such short notice.  He tries to focus on his phone or Snotlout and Eretson’s conversation about some law he doesn’t think he’s broken yet, but his entire being still snaps to attention when Astrid makes his mom laugh. 

“…not even listening to me, are you?”  Snotlout’s voice breaks his concentration as he tries to make sense of the joke or embarrassing story about him or whatever they’re bonding over and he glares at him. 

“What?” 

“I said ‘you’re not even listening to me, are you?’,” Snotlout scoffs and stands up, walking over to the chair as Eretson migrates closer to the tree, “and then you said ‘what?’, which proved you weren’t—”

“What did I miss?”  Hiccup rolls his eyes, “because I heard the whole story where you admitted to my mother that I was wrongly incarcerated for murder.  Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“No problem, I figured it’d be easier if she heard it from me.”  His smile is borderline flirtatious, and Hiccup grinds his teeth. 

“Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?  Don’t give you another reason to thank me?” 

“What’s the reason?”  Hiccup stands up, returning to the counter to refresh his yaknog, sure that he’s going to need it to cushion whatever Snotlout is about to say. 

“I’m doing you a favor—”

“Tell me what the favor is, and I’ll decide if I’m going to thank you for it.”  His eyes flick to the tree again when Astrid laughs.  She must have stolen Eretson’s antlers at some point and she slaps his hand away when he tries to recover them. 

“I think your mom should sleep in my bed.” 

“What?”  Hiccup snaps, too loud, and everyone looks at him like they’re nervous to even attempt to understand the size and scale of whatever his problem is. 

“Is everything ok?”  Astrid cocks her head and he nods back at her, tight lipped and sloshing yaknog on the front of his apparently inadequate blue sweater when he tries to wave her off. 

“Fine.  Good.  I just need to talk to Snotlout outside for a second.  Alone.  Where no one can hear him scream—”

“Scream?”  Eretson asks but Snotlout brushes him off, following a little too willingly when Hiccup drags him out into the stairwell. 

“I asked you to stop with the hitting on my mom jokes for one day,” he hisses out on the sidewalk, glaring at the carolers who have managed to move all of a block down the frigid sidewalk, even as the slow falling snow should have convinced them to head home by now, “for Astrid to meet her, because it’s a big deal—”

“It’s not a joke—”

“Sometimes, I wish I’d gotten convicted for shooting you so that double jeopardy could apply,” he runs out of steam all at once, shoulders slumping, “so are you telling Eretson that you think my mom should sleep with you or is it my turn to make a fool out of you by telling a stupid story?” 

“I said your mom should sleep in my bed,” Snotlout claps him on the shoulders, “not with me.  I can crash with Eret while she’s here, then your mom doesn’t have to sleep on the couch.  I already changed the sheets.” 

“If that’s what you meant, why did you phrase it like that?” 

“To make you freak out,” he shrugs. 

“Right.  Thanks for that.” 

“No problem,” Snotlout pulls a wad of green out of his pocket and it takes a second for Hiccup to recognize plastic mistletoe, “we’ll probably head out soon, actually, I grabbed this from Astrid’s decoration stash, I was thinking about hanging it from my belt buckle.” 

“Gross.” 

“Eret seems pretty into Christmas, I thought it was festive—”

“I’m going to go back inside, before you say anything else, or before—” Before something goes less than perfectly between Astrid and his mom.  “Nope, that one reason is enough.” 

“Dude,” Snotlout sighs, “calm the fuck down, Astrid’s great, and way too hot for you.  There’s no way your mom isn’t going to like her.” 

“Great pep talk.” 

“I’m here to help,” Snotlout claps him on the shoulder before leading the way back inside. 

He explains his purposed sleeping arrangements to Hiccup’s mom, and she makes another comment about how surprised she is at his politeness.  If it wouldn’t make him stick around and cause more havoc, Hiccup might take the opportunity to clarify that it’s all an act, and a thin one at that, but as little as he wants to think about what Snotlout just overshared, he really wants him to leave.  Not only to get his wildcard mouth out of the situation, but because there’s something nuclear about the idea of being alone with Astrid and his mom.  Something a little more traditionally family shaped. 

His dad’s absence is a little heavier as they sit around the remarkably well-balanced tree, eating pizza and hashing out vague plans for the next few days.  Astrid teasingly promises to help with a Grimborn tour, if he’s too rusty, and he wonders what must show on his face for his mom to yawn so quickly and excuse herself to bed, blaming flights and travel and anything other than Hiccup’s blush. 

She points silently at Astrid’s back on the way to Snotlout’s room before giving Hiccup a not so subtle thumbs up that he appreciates as much as it embarrasses him. 

After the door is shut, Astrid stands with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head and shuffling towards the kitchen, promising to put the remnants of the yaknog away and meet him in the bedroom.  And listening to the quiet clang of the pitcher in the fridge while he takes off his work clothes and flops onto the bed in his underwear only enforces the feeling of home and family and stifling rightness that has perfumed every awkward minute of tonight. 

Astrid pauses when the door clicks shut behind her, cocking her head as he props himself up on an elbow, a bemused little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

“What?”  He looks down at his chest, “did Yaknog soak through my shirt?” 

“I can’t tell from here,” she unbuttons her pants and shoves them down to join his in a disorganized pile on the floor before doing that female trick where her arms disappear into sleeves for a moment and her bra appears, also immediately abandoned. Her sweater hangs halfway down her thighs and her knee-high socks are covered in candy canes and Christmas trees.  “I was wondering why you aren’t under the covers.” 

“Ran out of energy,” he shrugs, “right here.  Can’t move another inch.” 

“Right,” she nods, unimpressed as she climbs onto the bed beside him and tugs absently at her side of the covers, biting her lip and sitting cross-legged, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “How do you think that went?” 

“Oh, I was a spaz, so everything’s right on schedule.”  He lays back, hand landing on her knee and sliding down to trace the edge of her sock against her calf. 

“No, I mean,” her voice dips, “how do you think I did with meeting your mom?” 

“Great,” he rolls on his side to face her, leaning halfway up on an elbow, “of course.  Were you worried?” 

“Of course, I was worried,” she crosses her arms, but even she struggles to look scary in an oversized sweater and holiday socks. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I thought it was obvious.”  She scoffs, “I want your mom to like me, of course I was nervous.” 

“She likes you,” he skips to the fact instead of meandering through the long explanation that of course his mom would like her, because there’s nothing unlikeable about her, “she gave me a thumbs up on her way to bed.  That’s high approval.” 

“Oh,” she brightens, hands tucked back into too long sleeves. 

“I have a secret too,” he flops onto his back, “I don’t know if you want to hear it though…”

“Don’t tease me,” she follows, straddling his hips with her hands on his chest, like she’s planning on holding him down until he talks.  Not that he minds, if anything he folds his arms behind his head with plans to draw it out.  “That’s just mean.” 

“Snotlout stole your mistletoe,” he says seriously. 

“Bastard,” she whispers, fingers curling absently against his chest. 

“I know.  I would have fought for it for you—”

“Of course.” 

“But he told me he was planning to hang it from his belt buckle, so then it felt tainted.”  He laughs when her nose wrinkles in sympathetic disgust.  “I know.” 

“Well what are we going to do now?”  She presses her thumb to his lower lip, fingernails scratching gently through his beard and he shivers.  Her smile is just on the right side of teasing,“if you’re cold, you should get under the covers.” 

“Told you, I’m too tired,” he pushes back on her hips with hands that suddenly can’t move fast enough and she scoots back enough to let him sit up.  “I also told you that wool gives me a rash,” he tries to kiss her as he pulls her sweater up, but she pushes him back with a hand over his mouth. 

“Without mistletoe?”  She snickers through her false incredulity and he pauses his quest against her sweater to tuck her hair behind her ear, “that’s not very festive.” 

“We don’t need it.”  He attempts to roll her onto the pillow but only half succeeds, hovering over her as she scoots back, knees hugging his hips when she’s comfortable.  “It’s a pagan thing anyway.”  Her sweater makes his chest itch when he kisses her neck, but her hand trailing down his side makes it hard to care. 

“Oh, so like ‘keep Christ in Christmas’?”  She asks, arching into him when he grinds down against her, hand sliding down the back of her thigh. 

“No,” he sits back on his heel, carefully unfolding her leg and setting her novelty sock clad heel over his shoulder, “it’s all about commercialism.” 

“Right.  Of course,” she laughs, eyes bright with something better than Christmas spirit and stronger than yaknog. 

“A reason to sell socks,” he kisses the edge of the sock on her calf, “and deforest small, ornamental trees.”  He kisses the inside of her knee.  “Run up the electric bill with hundreds of twinkling lights.” 

He kisses the inside of her thigh, knees scooting backwards on the bed as her heel drags up his spine. 

“They’re LED.”  She’s not laughing anymore, voice low like she’s reminding herself to be quiet, and she lifts her hips when he hooks his thumbs in the sides of her underwear. 

“A reason to buy twinkling lights, then.”  He pushes her sweater up enough to kiss her hipbone and she nearly growls under her breath, hand firm on the back of his head as she redirects his focus. 

“Ok, Scrooge.” 

He’d make some quip about the ghost of Christmas future not being particularly scary, but he doesn’t think she’s listening. 

[asras-eyelashes]

Book 0: The Fool

Full AO3 Fic // Previous || Next 

Chapter 5: Slumber Party

The Masquerade had been a blast. After the fireworks signaled the official beginning of the Masquerade, the two of you had quickly descended back into the crowd and continued your fun. You and Asra had scrambled some coins together for a couple games, and had even joined in on the dancing in the square. You had discovered that Asra is a fantastic dancer; you feel like you’re tripping over your feet every other beat in comparison. But he had never said anything, never laughed, just continued to give his encouraging smile.

It had only been until you felt like you were going to collapse that you said it may be time to call it a night. Asra’s expression had fallen a bit, but it followed with a rather wide yawn. You had giggled in response.

“Yeah, I guess it might be time to head home. Will you be ok?”

The question throws you off. “Ok? The shop is just a stone’s throw that way.”

“Yeah, but your aunt, I mean. She won’t yell at you, will she?” You can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest when he gives you a concerned look.

“I should be fine. Before we met up, she was headed to the Rowdy Raven. She probably got drunk there and is dead asleep now.”

Satisfied with your answer, he nods. “Alright. I’m going to head back to the hut in the forest.”

“Ok.” As much as you are tired, you wish the night didn’t have to end so early.

As if he was feeling the same way, Asra gives a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Returning the warm smile, you answer, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

That had been a while ago. The festivities of the Masquerade had since died down, and now it’s pretty much back to your regular days.

Well, almost regular.

Your aunt has been increasingly out of the shop more, making more personal deliveries since the Masquerade. You’ve had more interaction with customers than you could remember ever having, and these days, your time is spent in the front just as much as in the back.

“Oi, I’m gonna be making a trip outside of Vesuvia,” your aunt suddenly says.

“What?” you say before you think. 

“We’re runnin’ low on newt’s tongues and salmonberries. I’ll be goin’ to harvest so’ more. It’ll be a bit o’ a trip, so you better take customers’ orders well while I’m gone. On the day after the next new moon, I’ll return.”

You feel panic grip you. You, alone, working the shop? The lunar cycle had just started.  

“A-are you sure?”

Your aunt just gives an exasperated sigh, annoyed. “Just take basic orders. If a customer asks for somethin’ that needs my attention, just say that it’ll have to be postponed until I return.”

Thinking briefly back, there had been a few charms or potions that you would have second guessed yourself on if you had made them, but the majority of the products had been more or less basic. Mostly cooling potions, some for light…

“Alright…hope the trip is fruitful,” you stammer as your aunt opens the door to leave. With one curt nod, the door slams behind her, ringing in your ears.

The shop is quiet, with the exception of the stove salamander, but your mind is buzzing. Alone? You’ve never been by yourself for that long, mostly because your aunt didn’t trust you to be alone in the shop. You’ve been alone at home, but that was many moons ago, barely within your memories. 

But the jingle of the front doorbell brings your attention to the customer who just entered. Trying not to trip over yourself, you hastily greet the customer, ready to take their order.

~~~

Thankfully there hadn’t been a really a big rush of customers before lunch. All the requests you had promised by tomorrow. If you’re lucky, maybe the afternoon’s orders would be simple as well. 

Grabbing some coins for lunch, you put out the lantern and draw the curtains. Oberon hops onto your shoulder and into his pouch, knowing it’s time for food. Feeling the confidence of running the shop successfully this morning, you smile as you jog out the back door. Your head immediately turns towards Asra’s spot.

“Asra!” you call as you trot over. “Do you have time to get lunch?”

“Hey!” Asra greets, perking up from laying on the ground. “Yeah, I’d love to, I’m starving." Even Faust bobs her head, happy to see us. It only takes a moment for Asra to gather his things.

“What are you in the mood for?” you ask.

“Let’s get something cold, I’ve been dying in the heat all morning.”

Agreeing, you both head to a shop that sells cold noodles and cucumbers. On the way over, you tell Asra about your aunt’s trip. Asra lights up when you say you have the shop to yourself.

“Wow, it’s like you own the place. I’m kinda jealous.”

“It’s only while she’s gone! I’m sure she’ll be back to her crabby self once she’s back. And what are you jealous for? It’s not like you have anyone bossing you around.”

“Yeah, but you live right above the shop. Muriel’s hut is in the forest, way out of here. It takes me so long to travel back and forth. I’ve honestly thought about just sleeping on my rug a couple of times…”

You hummed, arriving at the shop and getting in line for food. You take a brief moment to think before a thought pops up in your head.

“Asra, why don’t you stay with me?”

The question seems to shock the magician. “Really?”

“Yeah, my aunt’s away, and it’s not like she has eyes in the shop. As long as you leave before the new moon, you should be fine. Besides, it’s only going to get hotter from here on out. And I’d hate if you tried to sleep on the streets again…”

Asra gives you a compassionate smile. “That sounds amazing…I’ll talk to Muriel about it!”

You light up as you order your food.

~~~

As the Vesuvian sun trailed down under the horizon, you say a final farewell to your last customer of the day. You take a chance to breathe in the cooler air, thankful that the sun took the heat with it, leaving the nights as cool as a frog’s back.

Taking off your apron, you put out the lamp in the front of the shop and go to clean up the front counter. Oberon lays contently on the windowsill.

You hear a familiar voice call your name before the front door opens with a jingle. Looking up, you smile as you greet the curly haired boy.

“Hey, Asra!”

Closing the door behind him, he practically skipped over to the counter. “So I left early today to chat with Muriel - he’s fine if I stay here!”

Beaming, you respond. “That’s great! Is Muriel not joining too?”

Wilting a bit, Asra shakes his head. “No. He rarely, if ever, comes this deep into town. And now that the Masquerade is over, there’s not much he’s going to be making to sell, not for a while anyway. He much prefers the forest.”

You hum as you resume cleaning up the rest of the counter. Asra’s told you a bit about his quiet friend, but you’ve never actually met him. You had been hoping this would be your chance to, but you guess it’ll have to wait for another time.

“Do you need any help?” Asra offers as Faust slithers onto the counter.

“Oh, no no, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done anyway.” You didn’t want Asra to have to worry himself over your responsibilities.

“Alright,” you hear Asra giggle, finding him being groomed by Oberon.

You quickly count the money you made for the day and jot it down in the records. Giving the front space one last cursory glance, you hop over to the two.

“All done?” 

“Yeah, let me show you where I sleep.” You turn to the staircase up to the second floor.

“Does your stove salamander just sleep under the cauldron?” Asra asks as the both of you climb up the steps.

“Usually, yeah. Sometimes he gets clever and slips into the wood pile. That happened once and the shop almost caught fire. My aunt wasn’t very happy.” You chuckle, glad you’re able to laugh at the memory now. In the moment, you thought your aunt was going to decapitate you.

Asra laughs with you. “I wonder if he and Faust would get along. She loves warmth.”

“Maybe. But he’s still made of flames, so she has to be careful. Anyway,” you say, opening the door to your room. “Here’s where I sleep.”

You open the door to what looks like a closet, but is actually your room. A small bed of pillows and a couple of blankets take up some of the floor space, with a little room for your modest belongings. Miscellaneous items that couldn’t be stored on the first floor are crammed into the remaining space. Despite it, there isn’t too much dust, and is rather clean. 

“Wow, it’s cool you get your own room,” Asra remarks. He glances over to the adjacent bedroom door that’s ajar. “Is...that where your aunt sleeps?”

“Yeah. I was…never really supposed to be here for long...but after my parents dropped me off here the first time, I guess they decided that this was the most convenient option…” You can hear your voice fall as you explain your unfortunate circumstances.

Asra’s face drops as well. “I’m sorry...at least you know that they’ll return. I...I don’t know where my parents went…”

You look up into his face. Not once had you heard Asra mention his parents. You had figured that since Asra had always been at his booth that he had been just practicing his magic. But thinking properly, you had never seen anyone pick him up, or drop him off anything. Plus, he said he lived with Muriel in a cottage in the woods. You had just never put two and two together.

Setting a comforting hand on his shoulder, you murmur an apology. You feel his warm hand on yours, and the two of you share a short moment before he seems to perk up again.

“Are you hungry? Faust and I didn’t really get a chance to eat on the way back from the forest,” he says, wanting to break the rather heavy mood.

“O-oh!” you stutter, trying to bring yourself out of the downcast moment. “Yeah, there were customers coming in and out today, so I didn’t really eat after lunch.”

Asra set his things against a wall. “Great, let’s go! I passed by the baker and he said that he has more recipes ready for us to try.”

You light up at the mention of bread. “I like the sound of that!”

~ ~ ~

Biting down on the warm bread, you make sure to grab a chunk and give it to Oberon. You two had been lucky to catch the baker closing up shop, and bargained the day’s last bit of bread. Faust had found dinner behind the bakery, lending a hand in controlling the rodent population.

“Do you think your aunt would be mad if we slept in her bed?” Asra asks through a mouthful of bread.

The innocuous question didn’t stop a shiver from trickling down your spine. “No, no no no,” you repeat. “We can’t - she’d definitely find out, somehow. I don’t know how, but she would.”

Seeing that he spooked you a bit, Asra gives an apologetic look.

Opening up the back door, you let the magician sidle in first before locking up behind you. Making sure the front door is locked, and the stove salamander safe from getting into the wood pile, you follow Asra up the stairs.

“Um, I know there isn’t much space, I can go grab some more pillows from downstairs--ah, I should have thought of that sooner--” you stutter, half mumbling under your breath.

But Asra simply falls gracefully onto your makeshift bed. “What do you mean? There should be enough here.”

You feel warmth fill your cheeks. He wasn’t thinking...what you think you’re thinking.

“S-sleep together?” You couldn’t even form a full sentence, you think to yourself, wanting to smack yourself.

“Yeah…?” Asra confirms, raising an eyebrow, as if what you suggested was weird. “It gets cold at night. Besides, Muriel and I share a bed in the hut we found. It’s not like we can afford another bed…”

It does tend to get chilly at night, you think. Do friends normally share a bed? You really didn’t know, since a lot of the time you’re either alone at home or in the shop with your aunt.

Stuck in your thoughts, you watched absentmindedly as Asra stripped to his underclothes, getting comfortable. Coming back to your senses, you register what’s happening in front of you, and feel your entire face on fire.

Trying to act natural, you also get comfortable, praying you aren’t making a fool of yourself. Why are you so nervous? You two are just going to share a bed...yeah…

Almost tripping on your own feet, you sit on your side of the bed and fluff up the pillows. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Oberon getting comfy in your clothes, and Faust coiling up in the warmest corner she could find.

Asra tiredly stretches before sinking into the pillows, looking very comfortable. Glancing up at you, he invites you to lay beside him, despite it being your bed.

The day’s fatigue slowly washes over you. Sinking your head into your pillow sends a wave of relief through your body. You give Asra a smile before closing your eyes.

“Good night, Asra,” you say before yawning.

He chuckles and returns the wish good night. You swear you hear him mumble a “sweet dreams”, but sleep had already shut off your senses.

[highheelsinblood]

Truth or Shoot, part one

James finds her drinking again, hidden away in her own med bay, holding a flask like a lifeline, glaring into the darkness on her own. He gives a sigh of relief - she isn’t wandering the woods this time, or trying to pick a fight with something bigger than her.

He leans against the doorway, glowing in the dark, swallowing the lecture he wants to start in on as she decides to speak to him.

“As if the Infernal were ever once pitiful angels. Bleh. Garbage.”

Elizabeth takes another swig as James sharply inhales, catching her attention with his noises.

“What. WHAT?” Her voice is slurring a bit - how long as she been in here with her hooch? Who kept selling this to her? They probably don’t care if she’s an alcoholic, they just want her money.

“ . . . . uh . . . Nothing.” He scratches his own head a bit and looks away, not wanting to start a debate about this now, not in the state she’s in. Some days he’s unsure who the Handler is supposed to be - maybe it’s both of them.

She pulls herself up by the edge of the table nearby, and James can see her legs not quite working the way they should as she shouts at him “whaaat” again.

“They . . . could have been angels,” he says cautiously, watching her lean on the table for support as she shakes her head at him, hair curls bouncing.

“Not all of them.”

“Why do you say that?” James asks her while she drinks from her flask again. “I'm too curious.” He folds his arms over his chest, watching intently. “I mean . . . why not?”

Because . . . “ She trails off, and for a moment James is concerned she’s going to be sick, but Elizabeth just hiccups a bit instead before continuing. “Because sometimes things are just made out of evil.”

“Like … created that way?”

She gives him a heavy nod, and he can feel his nose wrinkling at her in disagreement.

“I’m … I’m not so sure about that. It’s interesting to ponder though.”

Elizabeth doesn’t seem interested in dropping the conversation as she sips again. “Some people are just doomed, James. Damned from the cradle to the Grave.”

“That might be, but…” James thinks over how he wants to continue, without pissing her off.

I doubt they were created evil, or from evil. That just doesn't sound right to me.” He shrugs at her nonchalantly.

“If you ‘ake shitty metal, and you use a shit forge, ya gonna get a shit result,” she insists, her words still melting together as her tongue can’t keep up with her mind.

James tries to not sigh in his exasperation. “Yes, but the lord does not foul. Instead, he’s used the best metal in the best forge, then the weapon is mishandled by those it is gifted to.” He looks up briefly at the Lord Commander, feeling sure of himself as Elizabeth sips again.

“So . . . was I born shitty or made shitty?” she asks quietly, and his chest tightens a little. Elizabeth had two kinds of drunk - the Up drunk, with her acting her age, giggling and loud and enjoying her life briefly, and then she had the Down drunk.

He finds himself shaking his head, the chain on his chin jingling slightly. "You were forged of the finest materials, in the finest forge,” he explains to her. “Past that . . . it could be a matter of perception . . . perspective . . . opinion."

All he gets from her is another hiccup and a scowl. "Well, I'd ask your opin-opinion, but . . . " She uses her free hand to make a wild up and down gesture to the whole of him in the doorway.

"but . . . you don't care my opinion?" he asks her softly, cocking his head a bit while she struggles with her words.

"No… You're . . . um . . . bossed, bast, OH! BIASED."

He can’t hold in his chuckling. "Everyone is.” He finds himself resting his weapon and shield nearby as he takes a seat across the table from her while she shakes her head in disagreement. James rests his cheek in his propped up palm and watches her.

She leans back from him, holding the table for balance while giving him a confused stare to his smile. “What?” she asks.

"Everyone is biased, Elizabeth."

" . . . yeah, but…” She doesn’t meet his gaze, looking down at the table. “ . . . you're not gonna be honest."

James takes his face from out of his hand, his expression flattening to a hint of concern. "Of course I will,” he says softly while she drinks more, still leaning away from him across the table.

"Nu uh…”

"I will too!"

He’s met with a heavy silence, and he can see her looking towards the door, and he keeps speaking.

"You want to know what I think or not?"

" . . . OK, buh I know what ya gonna say." Her words are getting more jumbled up and slurred now, and she looks back across the table as James stands up from his seat, hands flat on the table.

"I think that you have seen very bad shit in your short days. It makes you unable to believe that a higher power can not exist because you yourself think that He should intervene or that you would do it differently . . . There simply can't be a higher power that gives a shit, else things would be different…

So, you turn your back to him, compounding what you see and playing into your own self fulfilling prophecy."

Her brows furrow in as she tries to make more subtle distance between her and James. Her knuckles are turning white while holding the table.

"So . . . I'm bein’ punished. We're all bein’ punished, is tha it?"

"No . . . we’re all being tested." He sits back down, feeling his chest tighten up again. "You just…” He sighs, running his hand over his head, fumbling for the words. “You're so beautiful and you don't even see it . . . all you see is the shit that sucks." He doesn’t look at her again, expecting drunken backlash for his words. "I wish you could see yourself like the Lord does."

The silence between them is deafening, and James can feel Lizzy boring holes into the side of his skull. His scars itch as he debates apologizing, before a loud thud interrupts his train of thought.

James looks up and sees a blue and golden pistol laying between them now, and it takes him a minute to recognize it as Elizabeth’s back up shooter.

"Empty it."

He gives her a hard look, reluctantly reaching out and taking the tiny pistol in his hands, opening the barrel and removing copper-cased bullets, dropping them on the table as he goes.

"Leave one."

A nerve twitches inside his chest. "This best not be a gambling game, Elizabeth," he says with a tone of warning for her. But she just shakes her head at him, so he leaves the last bullet inside the chamber, and closes it before handing it over to her. Her hand is shaking a bit from the alcohol, and he wonders when her flask will finally empty.

Elizabeth takes it and spins the barrel casually while she speaks. "The game is called Truth or Shoot. It's like Truth or Dare but when you're stuck in a compound, the Dares run out." She sets the gun back down as James inhales sharply, saying a quick prayer. "You wanna go first?"

He gives her a look of disdain. "Sorry, Elizabeth. I simply don't know how to work that thing."

She shrugs and takes the gun back in her hands, lifting it to aim at James’ face. "I'll do it then.” Her aim wavers a bit but James doesn’t move, staring her down. "I ask a question. If you don't answer, I pull the trigger. Then it's your turn."

He rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm. She’s very drunk, but maybe he’ll just amuse her for now. She’s a child still, sometimes. "Okay . . . "

Elizabeth smiles and hiccups again, her finger slipping off the trigger for a moment. "Question . . . if Lord Commander allowed, would you bang your Chaplain?"

James can feel his eyes grow bigger than his shield, and his face burns, and there’s no point in trying to hide it in his hands, but he does anyway. Elizabeth just laughs under her breath as she shakes the gun in his direction for emphasis.

"Truth or Shoot, bud."

He barely chokes out an answer around the lump in his throat. “ . . . yes?” His face somehow grows even hotter behind his fingers as Elizabeth giggles at his embarrassment.

“Thank god, I was worried!”

He brings his hands back down. “Worried?”

But Elizabeth just waves his question away and calms down her laughter, gently resting the barrel of her pistol against her scalp with a smile.

"Your turn."

He nearly jumps from the chair but she’s got her finger on the trigger and he doesn’t want to spook the drunk. "No . . . no at least aim it at your leg or something! Good lord, Elizabeth!"

She smiles more at his pleading. "Nu-uh. My game." She pushes the barrel against her temple for emphasis. "Truth me, James."

James almost panics, trying to think of someway to discourage her, but smiles smugly at her.

"What's your favorite food?"

She did not share his smile, furrowing her brows at him. “But … That's a boring question."

He can’t stop smiling, relief rushing down his torso like a cool breeze. "Are boring questions not allowed in your game, Elizabeth?" he asks, feigning innocence.

But she starts smiling back at him, and his gut falls through the floor.

"They are,” she says, coking the hammer of her pistol with her thumb. “but I don't have to answer."

Now he does stand up, shouting at her. "Wait! okay Shit!" he says, hands up to stop her. Elizabeth stays still, watching him like a cat cornering a mouse, somebody who plays with their food. God, what should he ask that wasn’t boring to her? James tries to swallow the lump in his throat while he sits back down.

"Ummm . . . do you believe that there really COULD be a God?"

It’s a throwaway question, one that they’ve talked about before in circles, a silence filler, a game they play. But Elizabeth doesn’t quip back with something witty to poke fun at him. Her smile falls back down, and her stare softens as she lowers the gun from her head.

"Yes . . . " Her voice is almost a whisper. "But not the one you worship."

James had braced himself for something scathing, but isn’t able to hide the shock on his face as she pulls her flask back out, and goes to drink - but he sees it’s empty now, much to Elizabeth’s disdain. She sighs and puts it down on the table, cap off, and looks at the ceiling. Is she praying?

"I . . . I struggle with the idea that it's . . . a test."

He looks at her, even if she won’t look back down. "I don't understand.”

Another pause before she looks back down, and James can see how bloodshot her eyes are, making the blues even more unnerving. Bloodshot seems to be the theme for her face moreso often than not lately.

"Why are we tested?"

"Because faith is very hard to keep.” James tells her, absentmindedly fiddling with the rosary on his armor. Preaching was coming more naturally to James as the weeks pasted, and he felt better after doing it, like a cool drink of water. “Remaining faithful to the Lord, even when we don't understand . . . it’s the true measure of our gratitude and understanding of our position in the world."

" . . . don't ya feel like it's … itsa trap?" she asks him, voice low.

"How so?"

" . . . if you were, ya know . . . asked by a stranger to follow them down a dark path on promise of safety and reward alone, like, wouldn't you think it was a trap?"

Still playing with his rosary, James tries to figure out his words for her, speaking slowly. "It's.. really not the same . . . i'm trying to figure out how to illustrate as much…”

Elizabeth has always been patient with him, and she still is now, letting James have the silence to figure out his next statement, but she’s barely blinking at him.

"Look . . . I have faith that the man standing there isn't a stranger . . . It's more like . . . If your father was standing there . . . would you trust your father in a dark alley?"

She breaks eye contact with him, glancing down at the table at her lap, and James can hear her inhale. He almost feels bad, knowing Elizabeth’s love for her birth father, and opens his mouth to continue before he’s met with the end of the pistol back in his face. She isn’t shaking as much now, but her face betrays her pain.

"Are ya . . . tryin’ to convert me?"

He isn’t shocked by her question. He had asked it of her before … it feels like years ago now … and he doesn’t move, gives her nothing to respond to for several silent moments before her finger moves to the trigger again.

“Elizabeth. After I answer this . . . I insist you let me elaborate. Because the truth is more complicated than the yes or no answer you might be looking for."

She glares at him. “Are ya gonna be honest … tell the truth?”

He takes a deep breath, nodding as she lowers the pistol again. "Yes . . . I am going to tell you the truth . . . "

(to be continued)

[hopecountylovin]

Sweet Surrender

Sharky and Faith (well Rachel really) both find themselves lonely early Christmas morning. They strike up deal that allows them to have an amazing night together.

Warnings: some smut towards the end

---

A lonely melancholy surrounded Faith as she returned to her region after midnight mass on the Father’s compound. This time of year always left Faith depressed, well more aptly it was Rachel who got depressed on Christmas.

The Jessop family used to have such great Christmas Eves, before they all abandoned and ostracized her anyways. The whole family, aunts, uncles etc, would get together for a giant feast, everyone brought something. After eating they would have a washers tournament and end the night out in the Montana cold singing Christmas carols around a big fire. Faith very rarely missed Rachel Jessop’s life, usually she despised it, but that always changed around Christmas.

She puts on her snowsuit and leaves her hair braided into a crown upon her head as it had been for mass. The freezing air steals her breath as she steps out into the winter night.

Faith decides to take out one of the snowmobiles, one of the other few activities she enjoyed with Rachel's family. As she gets away from the Conservatory and into the cold Montana wilds she hears something that sounds like a strange version Jingle Bells, along with the occasional whoop. When she draws nearer to the noise she can see a fire and a sole occupant wielding a flame thrower.

***

Sharky had decided to leave the holiday festivities in Falls End early, now leaving him alone at Boshaw Manor. Christmas was never a favorite time of his, though it was always better to spend the holiday outta the pen, at least then he could burn shit. Which is what he decides to do now.

He turns down his flame thrower, as the snowmobile pulls up. The rider was a woman in an all white snowsuit with flowers embroidered up the right leg. When she gets off the vehicle she takes off her helmet. Well shit, if it isn't Faith Seed. He brings his weapon back up and turns the flame on high.

The Siren walks towards him. Well shitty shit, he slowly squats down and grabs a handful of snow.

“Charlemagne.” She says there's something different about her tonight. She’s softer, more real somehow.

He throws the makeshift snow ball at her and she crosses her arms and shoots a withering stare at him.

Sharky shrugs and laughs awkwardly “Had to see if it was really you.”

“Well what the hell do ya want?” he asks after a moment of silence.

“I...I wanted to see what the holiday music was. Is that Disco?”

“Uhhh yeah what ya listen to many of your stupid cults shitty music, don't know what a decent song sounds like?” he says defensively, he really doesnt get why everyone shits on Disco so much.

Faith looks at him for a moment with a look of shock across her face, then it falls and she just looks sad and tired. He’s never seen the herald look like that before, she usually looks so serene, so fake. Its unsettling, he doesn't know what her angle is.

After a minute she purses her lips then finally answers. “I know that cult music is shitty, I can’t stand it, besides I like Disco.”

“Huh?” He says his mouth is left hanging open. That was definitely not what he expected her to say.

A beautiful laugh leaves her throat and he can’t help but smile with her.

“Oh Charlamagne.” She smiles again.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                    He’s not really sure what that’s supposed to mean, but he’s gotta admit that his name has never sounded better then when it comes from her lips. Still he tells her “Uh I prefer Sharky.”

A small huff of laughter leaves her “Ok Sharky, will you let me stay here, listen to your music, and watch you burn things?” she says her eyes drifting over to the fire, the sight making her smile widen.

Shit. He damn near gets half a stiffy.

She may be wearing a helluva lot more clothes than usual, but the snowsuit did nothing to change that melodically soothing voice of hers. And damn did she really have to look like a hippy Princess Leia on Hoth? Great there's a totally new Faith fantasy to add to the repertwa, he thinks.

“What the fuck?! You serious? Why?” he blurts out at her voice dripping in disbelief. This has to be some kind of trap.

She sighs, her eyes finding their way back to the fire “Christmas is hard, I don't want to be alone or with my angels tonight.” She looks back at him with soft questioning eyes. And for some dumb reason he believes and understands her.

“I didn’t think Faith was lonely not with her purpose and faithfulness to the Father.” He says mockingly.

"Maybe I don't want to be Faith right now" Another sad sigh escapes her "Maybe, just for tonight I want to be Rachel Jessup again" Her voice is barely above a whisper, yet it still manages to entrance him.

Yea he always knew he was a dumbass, but hanging out with the enemy on Christmas? This was a whole 'nother level of stupidity. Yet he lowers his flame thrower anyways.

He grunts then says "Yeah sure alright chica, but you gotta have a beer." Unsure what else to do he picks up a can out of the snowbank next to him and thrusts it towards her.

She accepts and chugs most of it in one go. Sharky's unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, watching her throat move as she downs the beverage.

He clears his throat self consciously as a means of distraction, then turns back to his fire, turning the flame thrower back on. He’d managed to find some old Christmas trees, and had been looking forward to lighting them a blaze.

After turning up the music some and getting one of the trees in place he lights it and starts to dance and sing at the sight. He almost forgets about his surreal guest and is pleasantly startled when she joins in with him.

Once the flames from the tree die down, the woman next to him starts to walk back towards her snowmobile. He can’t really explain the sinking disappointment within him as he watches her walking away.

The feeling goes away quickly as she merely just opens up the seat compartment to grab something then closes it and walks back to him. The firestarter can’t help but smile and feel a sense of relief.

The large smile on her she’s wearing is so different from anything he’s seen on her face before. Usually her smiles are just another manipulation something used to get what she wanted. Now though the only reason for the toothy grin is to express her joy. She’s never looked more beautiful.

When she gets closer he realizes. She has a bunch of old wreaths in her arms, an expectant and giddy look on her face.

Placing them on the ground she grabs one and with a quick flick of the wrist she throws a wreath over the fire while his flames catch it in mid air, the flaming pine needles making a striking image as it falls amongst the rest of the fire.

“Nice!” she shouts while she claps her hands with excitement and walks over to him to grab another beer. She stays near him and begins to sing with the music, he joins in.

Sometime later the fire has died down, and all of their items have been burned. They contentedly stare and the remaining flames.

“This has been fun Charle--sorry Sharky.”

“Hah you know what? It really has. You should be Rachel more often.” The words leave his mouth mindlessly and abruptly bring the mood down.

Her face falls and she sadly but surely states "No one wants Rachel."

"I dunno, I like Rachel." he says bluntly, his hands fidgeting as he looks into her eyes.

The smile that graces her face is sweet but sad, the cheerfulness from earlier having evaporated. Those big eyes start to look glassy and one tear breaks loose slowly falling down her cheek.

Without thinking, which is something he’s always been good at, Sharky leans forward and wipes the tear with his thumb. He leaves his thumb there on her cheek while the rest of his fingers bend to cup her cheek.

Faith, no Rachel, sighs quietly and leans into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment.

They stay that way for a while, her eyes open again and they just stand there looking at each other.

Finally he leans in for the kiss, nerves have him sweatin' in the cold weather, it's been so long since he’s made a move on a chick let alone one of his greatest enemies. Her lips have that sweet acrid taste of bliss, his vision slightly tinged red and green with white sparkles from the drug that seems to be interlaced in her skin. And damn of it isn't festive, he thinks absently.

***

It feels good not to think of the Father or the Project or anything else really. She doesn't have to be the perfect Faith nor does she need to be constantly calculating her every move. Somehow this mess of a man with a penchant for burning things has her feeling completely safe and comfortable. There’s no fear or shame, Rachel nor Faith has never really felt this way before.

When Sharky’s chapped lips meet hers, for a brief moment they both hesitate, lips touching but still. Then she crushes into his further and the embrace becomes heated and sloppy. Her mouth opens for his tongue and his hands move, starting to explore her body.

A warm trickle of electricity runs down her spine at the spark of his touch. He moves his mouth to her neck and she can’t help but gasp.

“Lets...can we go inside?” she says a blush creeping to her cheeks. She can’t believe she’s going to break one of the Projects biggest rules, with one of the most notorious sinners of the county no less. The strangest thing though is it doesn't feel wrong at all, no it feels completely right.

Sharky breaks away from kissing her neck and looks at her with amazement and disbelief. “Uh yeah, sure of course. If you really want to?”

The uncertainty in his voice is endearing. She smiles at him and nods, then takes his hand and leads him inside.

Once out of the cold they begin to kiss again while simultaneously taking off their layers of clothing. Coats and outerwear being thrown about his trailer as they make their way back to his bedroom. Before taking his pants off he grabs a condom from his pocket and places it on the bed.

He’s the first one to get completely naked and Rachel can’t help but widen her eyes and smile at his length and girth.

A self conscious chuckle leaves him “I hope you like what ya see.”

All she can do is nod, and take her shirt off in reply. Her panties are the only article of clothing still on. She finds herself becoming unsure of herself. Finally she takes a deep breath and pushes back her nerves and doubts to wriggle out of them. Once bare and on complete display for him she closes her eyes and waits for his reaction.

The sharp exhale from him startles her due to his unexpected close proximity, as he’s moved closer to her. He reaches a hand up to cup her cheek again, waiting for her to open her eyes again. His blue eyes captivate her as he says “Damn girl, you are beautiful.”

Humming in reply she leans in to kiss him again, pushing him to sit on the bed while she does so. She straddles him and pushes him further to lay down underneath her.

Before she can do anything else he says “Oh fuck it” and quickly grabs her by her thighs picking her up to place her over his face.

She’s in shock for a brief moment before his warm tongue darts out to caress her folds. The loud moan that escapes her would be embarrassing if his ministrations didn't pick up making her forget everything but the man beneath her and the pleasure he was giving.

With fornication being forbidden, it has been so long since she's been touched in any such manner. And she had never had a sexual encounter like this. All the other men she had been with in the past were selfish and used her for their own pleasure. It's why giving sex up for the Project never felt like much of sacrifice.

This though, was something else entirely. The way he touches her like she’s a precious commodity and the look in his eye makes her feel special, irreplaceable, like she means more to him them simply what she can do for him.

The feeling acts like a drug making her more light headed then any amount of alcohol or Bliss could accomplish.

His tongue continues to circle and worship her clit, causing her hips to buck and thighs to shake. More moans and mews leave her mouth and intertwine with the lewd wet sounds of his tongue in her pussy.

When she feels like she can no longer take the pleasure he surprises her by sticking a finger inside causing her to scream as combination of his fingers and tongue take her past the edge and into a new kind of bliss.

At some point her hands had twisted into his hair by their own volition and she finally loosens her hold as she begins to come back down. She lifts herself off his face and slides down his body, purposefully leave a mark of her slickness on his chest.

He props himself on his elbows and smiles at her, happy to be covered in her.

With a bite of her lip she leans towards him with hooded lids and kisses him possessively, tasting her in his mouth. She reaches out then sheaths the condom on him. He groans as she settles on his lap and slowly takes him inside of her to the hilt.

A large hand cradles her head and causes a few strands to fall out of its braid. She decides to take a moment and undoes the intricate hairstyle, occasionally moving her hips to keep him hard inside of her.

Once loose, her hair falls across her shoulders and he smiles wider twirling pieces of her hair with his fingers.

His hips buck up into hers and cause her to gasp. Her hands land against his chest propping her up as she begins to ride him. Eventually they start to move together in unison their gasps and moans filling the air. As she come close to the edge all sense of rhythm is lost. He shifts his hips up into her, his thrusts hard and fast pushing her into yet another amazing orgasm. She can fill his release inside of her when she screams his name and she collapses onto him.

“Rachel.” He says with sense of awe, his hand moving from her hips to rub her back. “That was…” he says unable to think clearly enough to finish his sentence.

“Perfect.” she concludes for him.

“Uh huh.” He emphatically agrees.

They lay like that for awhile before making any sort of move to get up, both afraid to ruin the moment.

After cleaning up in the bathroom, she enters the room and looks at him unsure. Should she leave? Any other sexual experience she’s had the guy had no use or want for her afterwards.

The look on his face seems to share the same uncertainty. “You uh, don’t have to go you know. You can stay, with me, if you want” He tries to sound nonchalant at the question, trying to hide his volunerbility,

“Ok, I’d like that.” she says as she bites her lip and looks down. Before going to the bed she puts her underwear back on then goes to his dresser and throws on one of his shirts enjoying the smell of gasoline which will now always remind her of this surprisingly gentle man.

The bed budges under the pressure of her body as she climbs in and snuggles against him. His arms encircle her, his face leaning into her hair for a moment. She can hear him inhale the scent of it.

“Merry Christmas Rachel Jessup.”

“Merry Christmas Charlemeng Boshaw IV” she says with a smile and a happy sigh.

For the first time in so long, maybe ever, Rachel doesn't feel lonely. The warm feeling, the smell of gasoline and the accompanying man's arms wrapped around her pull her into a contented sleep.

***

Early the next morning the sensation of hair tickling his nose brings Sharky into wakefulness. For a second he's confused, his hazy mind having a hard time connecting why there's a woman in his bed. Soon he remembers his surreal encounter with the herald, no with Rachel.

A smile tugs at his lips, then widens to a full grin. Man it's been so long since he's woken up with a warm body in his arms. It feels so good.

His mood and hopes starts to fall as the small woman wrestles out of his embrace. She doesn't even look him in the eyes as she gets out of bed and starts to put her clothes back on in a rush.

"So what're you Faith again?"

There's no need for an answer once she finally looks at him with that same calculating smile of the Siren plastered on her face.

A light sigh escapes her sweet lips. "I have to go, the Father won't be happy if he finds out where I've been."

His hands bunch into fist and a flush of anger burns through him at the fear in her voice when she mentions that shirtless fucker.

Those sweet lips brush chastely against his when she comes back over to the bed, her hand softly smacking his cheek as she does so. The whole thing feels wrong compared to last night. A grunt passes from his lips in response. She only shakes her head, then leaves.

He always thought Faith had a certain power over him, but he was wrong. That power belonged completely to Rachel, not Faith.

Sharky lays back against the bed frame, his arms folded up behind his head. His eyes still fixed on the door the woman just left from. He can hear the sound of her snowmobile start up then drive away. Still, he can't help but smile at the events that took place despite the bitter ending.

The smile falls abruptly as he thinks about Rachel turning back into Faith. Now he has one more person to fight that damn stupid-ass cult for. He gets out of bed throwing on his coat and searching for his flame thrower. He needs to burn something. Now.

[changseobbing-blog]

Untitled: Bff-L

Exo Fanfic

Baekhyun x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of depression, low mood.

Curled up in a blanket is your safe haven. 

You don’t feel like venturing out into the real world today, not when you’ve felt close to tears for the last week. Nothing is wrong in particular but when you’re suffering from depression it’s never that clear-cut. Generally, you have good days and you’ve fought hard to reach a place where you can live mostly happy.

You’ve been through the therapies and tested medications until you found what works for you. You’re mostly able to focus on all the good things you have to appreciate in life.

Today isn’t one of those days. Today you feel like it would be better if you never existed. Being awake and present is exhausting. You make an instant decision and reach for your phone to cancel the plans you had for the day. You were going to let yourself rest, sleep and hope tomorrow will feel a little better.

You know from many years of trial and error that it’s ok to feel sad and take a day for yourself. Sometimes forcing interaction isn’t always the best thing for you in your personal war with mental health.

Losing one day of the battle won’t affect the long-term outcome. You need to recharge to pick yourself up and enjoy things again and eventually you’ll get there.

You plan to only leave your bed to use the bathroom and get water. Your favourite duck feather duvet hugging your body and providing comfort as you drift in and out of consciousness watching funny dog compilations on youtube to distract your mind. You keep your phone on silent to prevent yourself from overthinking since you hate bothering your friends all the time.

They love you and would do anything for you but you don’t want to seem needy or annoying, they all have busy lives and their own problems and you don’t want to burden them despite what they say. You don’t want anyone to feel the way you do…

A knock on the door startles you awake. You weren’t expecting any company. So you pause your laptop and stay silent. Hopefully, they’ll go away. You daren’t look at your phone because you don’t have the energy to explain yourself further, you just want to be alone.

The knocking stops and you relax momentarily. Then you pull the blankets over your head and groan when you hear keys jingle in the lock and someone steps in loudly calling out your name.

You should have never given him a key.

Byun Baekhyun, your best friend of 10 years and also a giant pain in the ass who doesn’t seem to have understood you cancelling the plans you had with him and your other friends.

Maybe if you hide under your duvet he’ll think no ones home and go away, but you soon find out that doesn’t work when you hear the creak of your bedroom door and he immediately snorts.

“Y/N, you aren’t being subtle...I can see your foot”.

You huff and yank your traitorous foot under the covers as you feel his body weight sink into the edge of your bed.

“Didn’t you read my text?” you mumble meekly from under the blankets.

You feel him pull the covers down enough to reveal your eyes. You stare up and your best friend tiredly as he takes in your appearance. You know your hair must be everywhere and there are bags under your eyes. You probably looked how you felt and you realise he’s figured you out when he cocks his head and frowns slightly.

“Didn’t you read the seven replies I sent you back?” he counters, eyebrow raised but eyes soft.

You shake your head in response and look away, his concern making you feel self-conscious. You don’t even know why you feel like this, Baekhyun is one of your biggest supports. He’s seen you at your worst, never judged and accepted every part of you without question.

You’d met back in high school and had instantly clicked. He was your complete opposite. Loud and friendly, dragging you along with him as he created chaos and mischief. He was actually one of the first people to notice you weren’t being yourself. You had suddenly isolated almost everyone and taken a break from college due to stress.

He was away at a different college but when he visited you for the holidays after you’d been ignoring his texts he’d seen right through the mask and facade you were trying to hold together. He had stayed up with you all night as you cried and accepted that this was something you had to get help for.

He was there when you admitted to your parents how badly you were coping and did his best to support you and help explain to them as they struggled to understand. They still don’t fully understand but at least they’re trying.

Baekhyun on the other hand dove right into the deep end, he read books and looked up articles on how to support someone struggling with depression. He never pushed you into anything you were uncomfortable with but never let you slip back to the darkness alone.

Thanks to him and your small group of close friends you managed to pick yourself up, graduate college and find a job that you enjoy. They’re there when you want to socialise and give you space when you don’t, always offering a shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen.

You are brought back to the present, realising you’d spaced out when a hand reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear, Baekhyun starts to brush your hair soothingly with his fingertips.

“It’s ok, you don't have to leave your bed. I just figured you’d want some company and a Planet Earth marathon, maybe some pizza?”.

You space out again under the comfort of his touch but as your brain slowly processes his offer you feel your eyes well up, suddenly overcome because you for a moment didn’t feel like anyone cared. You don’t know what to do with your feelings so you just sniff and nod.

A warm roughness swipes over your cheek to wipe away a stray tear and you realise its Baekhyun’s thumb. He moves and crouches down next to the bed to meet your eye level, he smiles at your warmly then taps his chin in thought.

“Do you want me to invite anyone else? I could kick always Jongdae’s butt at Mario Kart and make him throw a tantrum for your viewing pleasure” he offers playfully causing you to break your first smile of the day.

“No, I think your annoying ass is plenty of company for a day if you’re insisting on staying” you sigh.

Secretly you’re glad he’s here to keep you out of your head. It’s never exhausting being around Baekhyun, everyone thinks your crazy for how long you’ve been friends and have put up with him. I mean, they’re right and you are crazy, but Baekhyun always says he’d rather drive you crazy then let you feel like you’re going crazy.

“I guess I should get up and properly dressed so we can go buy some snacks?” you whine, gesturing to your teenage mutant ninja turtle pyjamas and stretching your arms to mentally prepare for leaving your bed, but your best friend shakes his head and drops a paper bag in your lap. Your favourite snacks spilling out the bag.

You cuddle a bag of Popchips and start to tear up again but Baekhyun waggles his finger at you.

“Why are you so surprised that I’m here with the snackage, we both know I’m the best and also the smartest, and most handsome and talented…”

Your face creases up in confusion as you watch him start to ramble off in his own self-praise but decide to let it go today. You’ll roast him another day, right now you remember that you’re hungry and remember the existence pizza.

“So extra large cheese with all the toppings” you interject, pulling out your phone from under your pillow to access the pizza delivery app. Baekhyun plops himself next to you on the bed, sitting above the covers and grabbing a spare throw from the ottoman to cover his legs.

You work in unison as he sets up the tv and you finish ordering the pizza. You realise you’re already feeling better, the distraction from someone who understands and cares about you already starting the clear the fog of your mind and as you settle into your pillows and David Attenborough's soothing voice starts to fill the room you feel calmer.

You feel safe and validated and when he asks if you want to talk you open up to him about your thoughts and feelings, he listens patiently and never interrupts. He offers you comfort and assures you things will get better with time as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and rests his chin on the top of your head.

You stay that way for the rest of the evening, even after the pizza is devoured. The warmth and the familiar smell of Baekhyun’s aftershave keeping you grounded and you look up at him appreciatively for a little while. His mouth hanging open, round wire-rim glasses sitting at the end of his nose as he slouches against your headboard engrossed in the show. Floppy honey coloured hair sitting in every direction from what you assume was the wind outside.

When he looks down at you with warm eyes and soft smile, you already know tomorrow will be better.

[wordsmith-by-night]

Love Nikki Story Genre: Superhero fiction Word count: 2253

Abigail hated the publicity stunts her manager forced her to do. She loved her car and loved the thrill of the race, but being a public didn’t sit well with her. If it helped her gain her goals, however, she would do it, and so she did. Besides, being one of the few female race car drivers gave her quite the name, and so many young girls looked up to her that she felt it was worth it. Her manager tried to sell it as, “you don’t have to be in the kitchen or just look pretty, you can run with the boys too.”

And that was her image; the beautiful vixen that could compete with the boys. She did photoshoots as a warrior, as a boxer, as a mechanic, as an engineer… whatever most people associated with a male occupation, whether historically or not, she had been put in a photoshoot to challenge it. Part of her felt proud for it, but the other part of her thought that she shouldn’t have to do that. And then there was that little voice in the back of her head that told her how stupid it all was.

Because as much as she loved racing, she only did it for the thrills. They replaced what she called her real occupation, but she couldn’t share that one.

She smiled to a young girl no older than eight and handed a signed picture back to her. “I want to be a doctor one day,” the little girl stated. Abigail smiled brighter.

“Good for you. You can be anything you want these days, don’t be afraid to go for it,” she responded. The girl smiled at her even more, a glittering awe in her eyes. Her mother passed a quick thanks to Abigail and then walked off with the girl in hand. Abigail watched them retreat down the street before leaning back in her seat with a small sigh. She looked to her car, with its red and white and black paint, and longed for the asphalt beneath its wheels.

“Well, that’s it,” Jerry stated, stepping in front of the table Abigail sat behind. She looked up at him. “How’s an early dinner sound? The turnout was better than expected.” Abigail looked at the scenery around her. Mixed in with the buildings were those temporary metal fence-like barriers. They sectioned off where she and her car sat and created a small aisle where people had lined up to get autographs and close-up pictures of the car.

She was about to reply to her manager when the jingling ringtone of her phone went off. Pulling it from a pocket, she studied the face of it. A picture of her best friend filled the screen. “Sorry, Jerry, one sec,” she replied. She swiped the green phone icon across the screen. “Yello,” she answered.

“You’re needed,” her friend, Marissa, stated. Abigail frowned. At least whatever was happening had good timing.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Bank robbery, Second and Lomas. They’ve got some pretty nasty explosives by the sounds of it,” Marissa explained.

“Ok. I’ll get there ASAP,” Abigail replied. She hung up the phone and stood from the table, looking to Jerry. “Sorry, Jer. My friend’s mom kicked her out again in a drunken rage and she’s all torn up about it. I gotta get going.” Jerry let out a sigh.

“This friend seems to need you a lot, Abby,” he stated. She arched a brow as she grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Her shoulders rolled into a shrug.

“Isn’t that what friends are for? Maybe we can celebrate tomorrow,” she added. She pulled her keys out of her other pocket and walked toward her street car. The race car would get rolled into a trailer truck and carted off to the next location it needed to be at. She unlocked her personal car and slid into the driver’s seat before hitting the road.

Her radio crackled to life, relaying the conversation over the cop’s radio channel. A lot of curses came out of her speakers, followed by calls for backup and wondering where the SWAT team was. It seemed like a bank heist worse than the others. She mentally ran through a list of the banks in the area, trying to remember which one sat on Second and Lomas.

The whole downtown area just begged for the worst people. Every local bank branch headquarters seemed to be located in that area, surrounded by courthouses for everything anyone needed. Whenever a criminal got released from jail, they were released in that area, and they immediately went to the bank to cash out anything they needed, or cash in checks from the new jobs they sometimes got.

A picture of the main bank for the city flashed through her mind and she cursed: it sat on the corner of Second and Lomas.

Her car covered her with armor as she drove; reds and whites and blacks covered the dress she wore and covered her body. And then it came to a screeching halt in front of the bank and she stepped out, covering her mouth and nose with a mask. She moved closer to the crowd of cops, waiting to make another move as smoke covered the entrance to the bank.

“What’s going on?” she asked, stopping next to the police chief. The man looked to her with shock as she crossed her arms, keeping her attention on the bank front.

“Coulda used your help earlier,” he growled. She shrugged and glanced to him through the corner of her eyes.

“Thought you had it taken care of until just recently,” she lied. Marissa only called her when the cops got into a situation they couldn’t handle. Normal crime didn’t need the same response that Abigail gave. The cops could handle that. When it came to bigger jobs, or notorious criminals wearing masks like she did, she would step in. The cops were neither equipped nor a big enough force to take on the criminals, not since the city made so many budget cuts for other things.

They had always struggled, but it seemed the government wasn’t as concerned with citizen safety anymore.

The police chief sighed and shook his head. “They seemed like your average criminal. Covering their faces with bandannas, wearing hoodies, brandishing guns. But as soon as we got here and went to enter, the whole place just blew up. It was like it was booby trapped. And they won’t send SWAT. There are hostages in there and now they’re afraid the criminals will just kill them all and make an escape.”

“How many?” she asked.

“Criminals or hostages?”

“Both.”

“About five criminals, and thirty hostages.”

She turned to face him; how did so few men keep so many hostages at bay? Something didn’t sound right to her. “And they just walked in, guns blazing. What kind of gun?”

The chief shrugged. “Regular handguns by the looks of it.”

She turned to face the building again. “How does such a small group keep so many people at bay?” she asked.

“Security footage confirms what he says,” Marissa whispered into her ear through a Bluetooth feed. “I checked the blueprints of the building and it looks they have the entrances and exits barricaded, but how they did it in under thirty minutes, I don’t know. I also don’t know why they didn’t just run with the cash before the police came. Took them like twenty minutes to get there.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” the chief told Abigail. She shook her head.

“It sounds like they were looking for a fight, bunkering in for something. Do you have communication with them, Randall?” she asked. The older man shook his head. “So we have no idea what they actually want.”

“I don’t care what they really want! I want them arrested,” the chief responded. She laughed a little, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes.

“I’ll get them for you,” she stated. Without another word, she stepped forward, walking straight into the smoke. In the cover of the tainted air, she lifted her arm and lifted a holographic screen in front of her. As she moved, it scanned over the area, searching for any heat signatures. A thin wire ran from one side of the door to the other side. Her eyes narrowed.

“They’ve set up traps,” she stated. “Can you tap me into the audio inside?” she asked Marissa.

“Hmmm… looks like they’ve disabled the audio feed. I’ll see if I can get back into it.”

“Keep me updated,” Abigail replied. She pulled out a grappling hook from her belt. With the simple click of a button, the hook shot out and latched onto the top of a window. She let it pull her up halfway before swinging full force at the window. It shattered as she crashed into it and she landed with a roll.

“The hell?!” one of the criminals shouted. They all turned to see Abigail, fully suited in her armor, standing in front of the broken window as smoke crept into the room. She tapped a button on her arm, spikes embedded into the floor from the bottom of her shoes. The men opened fire on her. She ran to the wall, scaling it with the spikes from her shoes before launching off of it. The spikes retracted and she landed a swift kick to one of the criminals. He dropped his gun, which slid across the floor, and then he toppled over.

The sprinklers and fire alarms went off as smoke began to fill the room further.

One of the men raised his gun to aim at her. She flicked her wrist; a compartment slid open from her wrist, releasing a long, rope-like substance. She wrapped her fingers around it and dropped to the floor. Bullets narrowly passed above her and she used the rope like a whip, wrapping it around the man’s leg and pulling. He fell onto his back and slid across the wet floor to her. She knocked him out with a single hit.

She got back up, scanning through the smoke. With a flick of her other wrist, she threw two shurikens. They each hit their mark, causing two more of the criminals to drop their guns. A large ball of light tore through the smoke, hitting Abigail in the stomach. It threw her against the wall. She crumpled to the floor with a cough and a gasp as she tried to regain her breath.

“Fuck. Abby? You ok?” Marissa’s worried voice crackled through the Bluetooth.

“Yeah…” Abigail grunted. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking and her brain in a half panic after the hit. “I’m fine…”

“We’ve been waiting for you, pretty girl,” a man said, stepping through the waning smoke. Abigail straightened, noticing a large contraption in his hands that reminded her of a miniature battering ram, except it had a large opening in the front. “This is our city now.” It began to purr, something inside spinning almost like a fan as it began to glow.

“Marissa, what is that?” she asked, a tinge of fear on her tone.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never seen something like that. It’ll take me a few minutes to find out,” Marissa responded.

“Well hurry!” Abigail shouted. She jumped to the side as another ball shot out of the opening. She barely avoided it as it crashed into the wall behind her. Cracks tore up the side of the building.

“It’s… uh… it’s…” Marissa rambled, trying to find the information as quickly as she could while Abigail continued to dodge the things it shot out. “It looks like it pulls in the air and turns it into energy before spitting it back out. I don’t know how to stop it.”

The word energy caught Abigail’s attention. “I do,” she responded. She waited for another ball to fly her way before she jumped up and aimed a kick at it. She cringed as her foot made contact, a burning pushing through her foot. It reversed course, heading straight for the machine that launched it. The fan sucked it back in. A string of curses flooded from the criminal’s lips before the contraption exploded in his hands.

He took the brunt of the force, getting slammed into the wall. Abigail raised an armored hand in front of her face for protection and braced against the force. She waited until things settled down and the sound of cops approaching the building could be heard before moving to one of the barricaded doors as Marissa guided her. She moved the barricades, slipped out and around the cops, before getting into her car and driving away.

“That… didn’t seem fun,” Marissa muttered.

“It never is…” Abigail replied. “Get the medical supplies out.”

“Already ahead of you,” her friend answered. “You just get home and then we’ll look into things. Doesn’t seem like they’re your average criminal.”

“No… it doesn’t,” Abigail stated. “But at least the hostages are saved and I didn’t have to explain damages to Randall today.”

Marissa laughed. “He needs to chill out.”

Abigail laughed some as well. “I told him, he’ll have an early death at this rate.” She shrugged to herself and continued down the road. They always took things one day at a time, and though there would be research to do, she had other things to take care of later.

[shawol9196]

BFF AU 3/?

Kibum puts his snack down. “Jonghyun. I’m not asking you what you think of Minho in terms of his qualities, his merits as a friend, or what you think of his existence. I’m asking you what you think of Minho as a person who is a potential romantic partner to you.”

(Warning: rated N for neglect/mean parenting mention)

Jonghyun wakes up to his phone buzzing. He groans as he rolls over.

Chat: ㅎㅅ~

CineMin: Are you awake???? CineMin: Pls be awake I have something exciting :D

Jjongie: I am aware of my currents surroundings if that counts as being awake

CineMin: Ye! CineMin: What are you up to???

Jjongie: napping

CineMin: Did I wake you up? I’m sorry TT

Jjongie: it’s ok. I needed to be awake in order to continue contributing something to society.

CineMin: Are you busy with something? I was hoping we could meet up. I have something to show you.

Jjongie: I theoretically have things I should be working on but I can make time for cuties ㅎㅅ~ Jjongie: How long do you think it’ll take?

CineMin: Uhh I mean if you’re busy it’ll take maybe 5 min but if you have more time then that will also work nicely.

Jjongie: ??? Jjongie: I have 1.5 hr before class

CineMin: Meet me at the west gate in ten minutes?

Jjongie: it might be 15 minutes but ㅎㅅㅎ ok

Jonghyun sighs. He had wanted to get a nap before his class, since his professor always left him emotionally exhausted, but seeing Minho again was worth it he supposed. He got out of bed and -- after throwing on the nearest clean smelling clothes -- made his way to the gate as quickly as he could. When he gets there, he looks for Minho but doesn’t see him. Though his height should make him easy to spot, there’s a noted lack of cute tall people in his line of sight. He pulls his phone out to call.

“Jonghyun!! Over here!!” comes Minho’s voice just before he hits the button. Jonghyun looks around wildly before a waving hand catches his eye. Minho’s sitting in a new white car, face full of excitement.

“Look!! I won it!!”

“How did you manage that, cutie?” Jonghyun asks as he walks up to it.

“I entered a contest at school. It’s just my lucky day I guess. They called me yesterday and I just got it this morning. I was going to take Kibum to test it out with me but since he’s busy all day you were the next person on my list. Want to go for a ride?”

Jonghyun nods and opens the passenger door. Once he’s buckled in, Minho pulls away from the curb and back intro traffic.

“You’re a safe driver, right?” he asks. Minho laughs.

“Yes, Jonghyun, I’m a safe driver. Much safer than Kibum. I used to drive us to high school.”

Jonghyun hums and gets comfortable. He notices the music is turned all the way down and adjusts the dial so that it’s audible; there’s a pop song playing but Jonghyun’s not familiar with it at all.

“I haven’t had a chance to set up the radio stations or anything, I literally just picked it up. You can put whatever you like on, I’m not fussy.” Minho explains.

Jonghyun nods and starts flipping through stations.

“So I know what Kibum likes to listen to, what types of music do you like?” he asks.

“Like I said, I’m not particularly fussy.”

“Minho. What type of music do you like? I’m a music major you have to give me something, dude. Even if it’s just ‘I like commercial jingle music.’”

Minho chuckles. “I like 90s pop rock the best.”

Jonghyun thinks he remembers a classic rock station and when he finds it he leaves it on.

“What type do you like, Mr. Music Major? And you can’t say it’s your capitalist obligation to like all of them or anything like that.”

It’s Jonghyun’s turn to laugh. “I’m really good at writing ballads. But I also really like jazz and other stuff. Recently, I’ve been getting into lo-fi hip hop as well.”

Minho nods, though it’s obvious he’s mostly unfamiliar with music terms.

“So are we going anywhere in particular, Mr. Chauffeur?”

Minho shakes his head, humming along to whatever song has come on.

“Can I ask you something about Kibum? Like I’m not trying to ask anything behind his back it’s just there’s stuff that I want to know about and I don’t know how to ask them without upsetting him.” Jonghyun asks, fiddling with the strap of his seat belt.

“Sure.”

There’s a pause while Jonghyun collects his thoughts. Minho simply keeps driving with no particular place to go, though obviously not lost.

“So, first off, I understand that Kibum’s aromantic and asexual. And I respect that. It’s just a little hard for me to grasp, since I’m like very the opposite.”

They stop at a stoplight and Minho turns to look at Jonghyun before nodding.

“Was there like a moment that he was like super squicked out by something that made him realize that? Or like did he date anyone and then realized ‘uhh nevermind this isn’t for me’? Like I want to ask just so I can understand but like I realize that those are usually not a-spec friendly questions and I haven’t been able to figure out how to ask them without sounding like aphobic.”

“I get what you mean, it is kind of a hard thing to word without sounding that way. No, I think he’s always known. I mean, I can remember when we would watch cartoon movies when we were little and I’d always be crushing on the protagonist or the love interest, sometimes both, and he’d just be like ‘when will the animal friend be satisfied with their life they don’t deserve to put up with the protagonist!’. It was more of just an issue of finding a name for it and finding out that other people are the same way.”

“So what you’re telling me is that Kibum is ace/aro but also a furry?”

“Oh my god, no. Absolutely not. He just liked that they had at least some sense.”

“So, to be clear, he’s never done anything with anyone ever?”

“Not really.”

“So there was something??”

“When we were 16 or so, I let him kiss me so I mean there’s that but that’s it.”

Jonghyun’s jaw falls to the floor.

“You two have KISSED? And you still claim to be that you guys are not boyfriends??”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like then?”

Minho sighs.

“I had dated or at least attempted dating by that point. If he hasn’t told you yet, he’s in love with the concept of love but is disgusted by the thought of being in it. So he was asking me what dating was like and all of that. He said he wondered what kissing was like, so I said that since I had already had my first kiss that if he ever got too curious he could kiss me. So he did, said ‘huh that doesn’t seem so great’ and we both moved on.”

“I can’t even tap his shoulder without him getting grossed out and you guys are kissing?”

“Well first off, we’ve kissed once as consenting adults. Secondly, I’ve known him since literal infancy. So that gets me some upgrades to the friendship. Is he super physically affectionate with me all the time? No. But if I’m freaked out and need a hug or to hold hands or whatever he can usually find some sort of way to deal with it enough for me. Though I also respect when he can’t, which helps.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as Jonghyun tries to process the information. They park in front of a little sporting goods shop.

“This is my parents shop. I just want to run in and show them my car. It shouldn’t take long so you can either come in or just stay in here, whichever is better for you.” Minho explains; he looks nervous and Jonghyun isn’t sure how to deal with it.

“I can come in, it’s fine.”

“Just, do me a solid and be as casual as you can.”

“Casual meaning act hetersexual?”

“Yeah.”

“Got it.”

They get out and go into the store. There’s a woman at the counter helping a customer, the only people in there besides them. She nods at Minho but continues with the customer, so Jonghyun tries to occupy himself with looking at the few bikes they have while Minho appears to tidy up some shelves. Eventually, the customer leaves.

“Don’t you have class?” the woman asks flatly.

“I only have my 8am today, mama. I have a surprise though,” he says, going up to her for a hug.

“What, are they giving you more money?” she asks.

“No, they’re not. I did win a car today though!” he says, pointing out the window.

“Wow, is it new?”

“Yeah. Brand new. They gave me a parking pass and few gift cards with gas money and car washes and stuff too. I talked to Kibum’s dad and he’s supposed to help me work out the insurance this weekend.”

As his mom looks out the window, she notices Jonghyun.

“Oh excuse me, sir. Is there anything we can help you with?” She asks, putting her customer service voice back on.

“Mama, this is Jonghyun. He’s that friend of Kibum’s I was telling you about.”

“Oh. Hi Jonghyun. Nice to meet you. If you need anything, just say, okay?”

Jonghyun bows a little and says a hello. Minho’s mom is quieter now that she realizes they’re not alone.

“Why don’t you give it to Minseok? He needs it more than you do.”

“Mama, he already has a car. I don’t have one and besides I’m the one that won it.”

“But what do you need a car for? You can’t even pay for you schooling, how are you going to pay to keep a car!”

“I’m not giving him my car, mama.”

“God, Minho. You’re so selfish. You make us pay for all these things for you and you can’t even be bothered to help your brother out.”

Minho’s mom turns away and starts cleaning up something on the counter. It’s clear from Minho’s voice that he’s hurt at her reaction.

“Hey Minho, I forgot that I have to grab something from someone before class, can we head back?”

“Oh, yeah.” Minho says. He turns to his mom and reaches for a hug but is disappointed. “I’ll see you later, mama. Love you.”

She says something that sounds like an annoyed ‘I love you too’ and waves him away.

They’re silent as Minho pulls back into traffic and heads back in the direction of school.

“Is the time going to be okay?” Minho asks quietly after a moment.

“What? Oh, I don’t actually have anyone to meet. I just...that seemed uncomfortable and you seemed like you needed help getting out of that.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Look, I’m sorry you had to hear all that. I’m just...they just...it’s...”

“Don’t worry about it, Minho. We all have situations at home. I tell you what, if you take me to the store, I’ll buy you a snack or something for getting me out of the apartment. I think it’s cool you got the car and I think you deserve to keep it.”

“You don’t have to do that, I’m just happy you could come.”

Jonghyun doesn’t force it and there’s a silence again.

“So what about you?” Jonghyun asks quietly.

“What about me?”

“You said you attempted dating before. What team do you play for?”

Minho attempts a laugh. “I guess you could say I play for both teams.”

“Do you...play? Or are you and Kibum the aces up each other’s sleeves?”

“I’m more of a holomorph.”

“A what?”

“A holomorph. It’s a term for fungi, like mushrooms and stuff, that go through both asexual and sexual phases.”

When they reach the stoplight, Minho glances at Jonghyun and laughs at his confused expression.

“I’m demi-ace.”

“Why...didn’t you just say that?”

Minho laughs but it's only for a moment.

“Is it ok if I just go ahead and take you back to campus? I have something I have to go do.”

Jonghyun hums. The rest of the ride is quiet and soon they pull up to the west gate.

“Thanks for riding around with me. I’m sorry again about my mom.”

“No problem. Just text me anytime you want to do this, minus the mom part, again.”

Jonghyun gets out and watches Minho drive away before heading to his class.

*

When Jonghyun gets out of his class, he has too many unread texts.

Chat: ㅎㅅ~

CineMin: Thanks again CineMin: It means a lot

Jjongie: no problem, it was good for me to get out of the apartment. Jjongie: besides, I’m always up for car rides with cute and lucky boys ㅎㅅ~

Chat: I’ll Uhhhh Just Have A Friendship Please

Kekeke: we need to talk when u get out of class

Kekeke: u left ur door open again so im here and helping myself to chips

Jjongie: not my chips ㅎㅅㅎ im on my way back ㅎㅅㅎ

He runs back to the dorm, fearing for his chips. When he gets to his room, the chips are safe and sound and Kibum’s sitting on his beanbag chair with some carrots and humus.

“I thought you said you were eating chips??”

Kibum laughs. “I’m not that dumb and also I don’t like that flavor.”

Jonghyun sighs, half in exasperation and half in relief, and plomps down on his bed. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Minho told me he took you for a drive.”

“Yup. We went by his parents shop. Who’s Minseok?”

Kibum sighs deeply. “Minseok is Minho’s older brother. He goes here too, he’s a junior. He’s on a full scholarship like I am. Things are...easier for Minseok. When their parents had Minho, they were hoping for a daughter. Even now I think they wish he’d been a daughter.”

“So why would they ask Minho to give Minseok his car if things are easier for him and he has more money?”

“Because they feel Minseok deserves a new car and Minho doesn't.”

Jonghyun nods but doesn’t understand.

“Jjongie, how do you feel about Minho?”

“In what context?”

“Jonghyun, you know what context I’m talking about.”

Jonghyun sits up and grabs his bag of sour gummies off his dresser.

“I mean, he’s charming and sweet and handsome. He’s a very likable person.”

Kibum puts his snack down. “Jonghyun. I’m not asking you what you think of Minho in terms of his qualities, his merits as a friend, or what you think of his existence. I’m asking you what you think of Minho as a person who is a potential romantic partner to you.”

“Oh. He’s a total cutie and I’ve had a crush on him since you introduced me to him at the diner.”

Kibum makes a face between pleased and dissatisfied.

“Why? Did he say something about me?”

“You heard the conversation at the shop, yeah?” Jonghyun nods. “That’s how he’s treated at home. That’s how he’s always been treated at home. That’s part of why he and I are so close; I’m apparently the only person out of our two families who realize that he is his own separate person who needs affection.”

“Oh.”

“So he has difficulty distinguishing his own feelings for people if they show him affection.”

“Meaning?”

“The first girl he dated was this friend Sulli. They both played soccer, were both considered pretty, they were the typical cute high school couple. After a while though, it became clear that his feelings weren’t for her, but rather her attention. Things ended as well as they could but it’s left scars on him nonetheless. If you are planning on pursuing Minho romantically, you need to understand that things will be going slowly. That he is, in a way, affection starved and will need time to understand his feelings for you.”

“So if I want to try dating Minho, I need to make the first move but let him dictate the pace?”

“Yes. And as long as things are consensual between you guys and you make sure that he is doing ok, you have my blessing to do so.”

“Sweet!”

“Ok, that was all I wanted to talk about, so I’m going to go sleep now.”

Jonghyun doesn’t even wait for Kibum to leave the room before he pulls his phone out.

Chat: ㅎㅅ~

Jjongie: So if someone wanted to take a cutie like you out on a first date, where would they take you?

CineMin: Honestly, I’ve never been asked on a date before. I’ve always been the one to ask.

Jjongie: what are you doing this weekend?

CineMin: I have to watch the shop ;;;; CineMin: But I don’t have my afternoon class on Monday so we could do something then?

Jjongie: Pick me up at 5? I’ll give you more info later once i get a planㅎㅅ~ ㅎㅅ~

CineMin: ok ^^

[polyamorous-mysme]

Jaehee x MC x Zen (jaehee good ending spoilers):

ok tbh it would be super gradual and kind of not surprising at all for anyone

except for maybe jaehee

but you would be super adamant that she have a work schedule that wasn’t awful and left her time to relax and not worry about everything all the time

besides is a cafe it gets slow after about six or so anyway so there’s plenty of time to get stared on after-work work before you even close

you would start inviting zen over for drinks after his auditions or meetings with directors etc.

he definitely develops a crush on jaehee like. quick.

and you probably kinda coached him into getting past jaehee’s “you can’t be seen with me scandal oh no” stuff

and eventually they just became a Thing

sometimes you would watch the cafe alone for slow times so they could have lunches

or sometimes zen would help jaehee with the cafe by himself both to thank you for helping him and also to be alone with her

eventually you start crushing on them both (jaehee first tho. obviously.)

and they also both start crushing on you?

in secret they probably came up with a plan to incorporate you into their relationship after a While of them both feeling guilty and then both blurting it out to each other and going !!! when they realized what was happening

zen brought up the idea of polyamory first. jaehee is kind of old-fashioned and still worried about being too public with zen in case of bad rumors or bad press

but one day right before closing jaehee ran home “to get something important” 👀

and zen promised to stay and help out with the end-of-the-day cleaning and organizing etc. while you waited for her to come back

and as you were mopping you slipped and he caught you?

and just kind of. kissed you?

super uncomfortable what would jaehee say is he cheating on her already was it just adrenaline was he using her to get to you what is going on

but he noticed you didn’t have the reaction he would have hoped for so he backed off

and jaehee comes back and you’re trying to avoid looking at her or at least for too long

and this goes on for a while. probably about two weeks.

but it’s hard to own and run a business if your business partner is barely speaking to you so jaehee gives you a hot coffee while you’re doing some reports and just Looks at you for a while

“hey, is something wrong? you’ve been really weird around me and even zen lately and i don’t know what’s happening. is it something i did or said? do we need to talk?”

and you kinda just mumble at her

“sorry, what was that?”

“zen. kissed me.”

and she doesn’t say anything she just Looks at you so you hurry to explain

“it was that night when you had to run home for something and he stayed to help clean up and i didn’t mean for anything to happen i just slipped and he just? kissed me? and i wanted to give him time to talk to you about it first but it’s been weeks and you haven’t said anything and i’ve been feeling so guilty about it”

“i’m sorry jaehee please don’t hate me”

and she’s still just looking at you

and then she just smiles and kinda chuckles and says “i know. i told him to.”

error 404: brain not found

“look, MC, we both love you a lot, and for both of us it’s been more than platonic for a while. so i told zen to try and see if you were willing to maybe join us.”

of course she assures you that maybe the way he went about it wasn’t as great as it could have been and they don’t want to pressure you and that there wouldn’t be anything but platonic affection if that’s what you wanted

but of course. you love them both very dearly and already had feelings for them and if they were willing to try it then damn if you wouldn’t.

so you leaned in and kissed her right as zen comes in the cafe to pick her up

you both probably jumped as the bell jingled to announce his entrance

he’s super smiley. his two favorite people on earth and he gets to love you both at once.

it’s a good time for everyone

wait until the tabloids find out

[drscotcheggmann]

Pokémon the Movie: I Choose You Review & Wider Reflections

On Sunday afternoon I went to see Pokémon the Movie: I Choose You. As a longtime fan since Generation 1, the thirteen year old boy still hiding inside this now thirty year old man (sometimes not all that well hidden) was nothing short of buzzing; but while excitement was running high as the lights dimmed and the curtain went up, at the same time I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I knew what I wanted: a huge slice of nostalgia; to be transported back to the late 90s, a reminder of when my love for these little monsters was still in its infancy; a warm, tingling Thundershock of a hug from Pikachu and the gang. But would this be what I would get? Would the film alter or even damage my memories of watching the original Animé all those years ago? Getting up early before school, willing to forgo breakfast to make sure I’d watched the latest episode. Some will say “Get over yourself and stop being so precious”, arguing that no matter if good or bad, those golden mornings watching Mew dance across the screen as the ridiculously infectious theme tune rose to crescendo shouldn’t be and can never be touched by watching this one film. Yeah, that’s all well and good in theory but it’s never nice having a half baked reimagining or rehash of something classic seemingly shit all over your childhood. And this was a slight worry because....I’d heard things. That Brock and Misty had been ditched for two other male and female companions. That the movie was only loosely based on the original Animé and might stray from what longtime fans like me might expect. It’s always the longtime fans that feel most entitled, whether it be video-gamers, movie buffs or Pokémaniancs. So as Ash’s Mum comes in to wake her long sleeping son, dreaming of his future adventures in the early hours of his tenth birthday, the weight of expectation was weighing on my mind. But. I’m pleased to say that this longtime, entitled, nostalgia crazed Pokémon fan had nothing but a huge smile on his face when all was said and done. I would go as far as to say that I left the movie theatre, mentally waving my arms in delight, like a Togepi on speed. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t perfect and it didn’t tick all of my own personal boxes but sitting at the end watching the credits roll, I realised that it didn’t have to. Looking around me as the lights went up I realised that it was about more than just me and all of the other Gen 1 superfans sitting there in the semi darkness (and I would wager there were quite a few of us)! Let me explain. WARNING: FULL SPOILERS AHEAD. Something for the Oldies The movie tells a story which is, at its core, rooted in the original Animé. Ash, a regular 10 year old boy living in a world inhabited by Pokémon, dreams of one day becoming the greatest Pokémon Master (yes, the greatest Pokémon master, not trainer). Ever. Like no one ever was (sorry, couldn’t resist). And in this fact alone, the film lavishes longtime fans with nostalgic riches at every turn. From Ash’s frantic dash out of the house (he doesn’t seem to shower at any point before setting off, as noted by my cynical cinema going companion), to those first wonderfully endearing moments of love hate interplay between Ash and Pikachu, it’s all just ‘kid in a sweet shop’, ear to ear smile inducing stuff. Another thing that struck me as a fan from the beginning is that I’ve never seen so many Gen 1 Pokémon in such a short space than in this movie. As Ash tumbles off a cliff into a river clutching Pikachu, a murmuration of angry Spearow in pursuit, a snarling Gyarados darts downstream in what is a near miss for our hapless duo (but at least he has a wash in the river). Pinsir prowl the forests, people can be seen strolling down streets and indoors with their Pokémon at heel. A slumbering Onix is provoked into pursuing our group of heroes. Nidoran of both genders, a Sandshrew and a Paras are all led into a cave to shelter from the rain by a certain legendary dog (more about them later). At one point, I even had to laugh as Ash approaches the summit of the mountain towards the end of the film, only to be greeted by an audience of exclusively Gen 1 Pokémon: Graveller, Venomoth, Golbat, Nidoqueen, Nidoking, Magnemite, Magneton, Electabuzz and Magmar. You wonder if some of these even belong on a bloody mountain but this is the love the filmmakers are keen to show those fans of the earliest generation. A clear message: ‘Here we are! The originals. Back in all our glory again’. And the effect of this is wonderful. I actually began to go through how many of the original 151 Pokémon I hadn’t seen. There were still quite a few but not as many as you’d think. And it’s not only Gen 1 that seems to get that special treatment. Gen 2 is just as lovingly captured. Ho-Oh is the Gen 2 Pokémon at the heart of Ash’s quest in the movie, a quest which was never realised in the original anime but still has its roots there, as Ash spots Ho-Oh flying over the rainbow in the very first episode. But there are others too. The legendary dogs, Raikou, Suicune and Entei all feature, the latter most prominently. When I say prominently I mean this in the most literal sense for Entei - he’s the size of a freakin’ house! There’s even a glimpse of Lugia as the film draws to a close. As a longtime fan it’s great to see all of these guys on the big screen again but I’m also quite honestly glad that the movie did not become an exercise in crowbarring in every legendary Pokémon across the generations, just for the sake of it. Arguably seeing all 3 legendary dogs, who are so incredibly rare that hardly anyone ever encounters them, is a bit much but I was ok with this. It’s not all about the legendaries though; the not so legendary Pokémon spanning all generations are well represented. That first moment when I saw a non Kanto Pokémon alongside a Kanto one and the realisation that this wasn’t a world totally rooted in Kanto. It was great, despite my Gen 1 bias. It really showed how far the Pokémon phenomenon has come over the years and that the filmmakers weren’t afraid to lay out all their wares and risk upsetting those wanting a solely Gen 1 affair. What’s there to be upset about anyway? We all love Pokémon, right? Classic Pokémon from numerous generations are one thing but it’s the set pieces from the Animé that I still remember fondly today and some of these have been reimagined in this iteration of one of Ash’s adventures in Kanto. A clever use of the slightly jazzier (but not necessarily better) theme tune advances Ash’s journey as far as Erika’s Gym, but not before we see him catch his very first Pokémon in the form of Caterpie. We see those initial struggles (and shocks) with Pikachu, the Charmander left out in the rain and Butterfree’s departure to the spawning grounds, presumably to do some spawning with his female companion (can we not even say ‘mating’ anymore?). These set pieces are either bang on the money in terms of paying homage to the original or are slight twists on the original formula (most notably, the Charmander arc). Unfortunately for me, Butterfree’s departure to pastures new didn’t really have the same gravitas here as it did in the original Animé. I think the reason for this is partly due to the time constraints of the movie and that we don’t really get to see Ash’s relationship with Butterfree develop in any sort of meaningful way, except for seeing Caterpie evolve into Metapod and then into Butterfree. The tears flooding down Ash’s face, while they served as a call back to what was a particularly heartbreaking farewell in the Animé, just didn’t have the same punch. But perhaps without a direct comparison, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. Regardless, it’s still a touching monument, showing the deep and lasting bond humans form with their Pokémon; perhaps one of the best outside Ash’s relationship with Pikachu, which shines as brightly as it ever did despite having only 90 or so minutes to show it. And it’s perhaps because it seeks to wow its audience with so many of these individual moments, both past glories and new, that the movie feels a little disjointed in places. At times the action moves on a little too quickly, leaving no room for character development beyond the high octane chase/fight we have just witnessed. Consequently I didn’t feel that the synergy was quite there between Ash, Sorrel and Verity. Marshadow on the other hand is well deployed, being introduced gradually as the movie progresses. I actually thought that using Marshadow as the primary Pokémon antagonist was a good move as opposed to the likes of Darkrai or something a little more obviously evil looking. Marshadow’s ability to seem innocent enough but to pack a few punches when backed into a corner was well done, even if Marshadow isn’t a Pokémon just for the fans of yester year. But this is ok. More on why is coming. Team Rocket make their appearance as you would expect but maybe not in quite the way I expected. If anything, Team Rocket are fringe players here. There is no grand and bombastic entrance with the Team Rocket signature jingle; in fact, I can’t recall a moment when Ash and his friends actually come into direct contact with Jesse, James and Meowth. There doesn’t seem to be much of a grand plan from Team Rocket: they want Entei, then abandon that and go after Ho-Oh but are always thwarted without our heroes ever knowing, either propelled into the air or disappearing off the side of a mountain and always into a glinting star denoting that they might not be back for a while. But they do keep coming back, which is fine, but to no great effect. It’s all a little bizarre and you can’t help but feel, having watched the original Animé, that they could’ve been put to better use rather than simply be made to seem even more ridiculous than they already are. To the movie’s credit though (and this sounds like I’m wanting to have my cake and eat it here), the filmmakers don’t beat us over the head with Team Rocket, as was sometimes the case in the Animé. I remember physically sighing and rolling my eyes at times when Team Rocket would appear and break the flow of a perfectly good episode. The XY Animé moved away from this thankfully but I suppose it was nice to not have Team Rocket dominate, despite also being a tad underused. For longtime fans (or certainly for this one), there were one or two other things missing that, while they didn’t detract massively from the overall experience, just would’ve been nice and not too much trouble to implement. For one, although Ash seems to be largely the same character as I remember, here he comes across as even more gung ho and sure of himself than usual, to the point of actually losing some of the naivety that made him so endearing in the first place. At no point in the film does he whip out the Pokédex, looking confused and saying ‘What’s that?’ as he spots a Pokémon he’s never encountered before. Indeed, there is no Pokédex AT ALL as far as I can remember, just like the one so ceremoniously presented to Ash by Professor Oak in the Animé. There is a smartphone though which Verity uses to take pictures (sigh). Not even Kanto is free from the reaches of modern tech it seems. The lack of Pokédex and ‘what’s that?’ moment made me a little sad as Ash’s confusion was once my confusion, as a 13 year old sitting in front of the TV, pre widespread internet and readily available lists of information, wondering what this new and wonderful Pokémon Ash had just run into actually was. And then running into school to chat wildly with my friends about it - “Did you see this morning’s episode?! That was awesome!” I still remember the original speculation about who the Pokémon at the beginning of the theme tune was and why it wasn’t part of the original 150. Ash’s naivety was mirrored in my own. Don’t get me wrong, Ash is still green around the gills in the movie, pushing Pokémon to their limits at times without fully knowing their capabilities or strengths. But maybe the absence of this wide eyed naivety, even if only a little, struck me so much as I’m not that naive young person anymore. Someone who lives in a different world where information is at our fingertips and there is no excuse for not knowing. I’m digressing slightly here but it did make me think about the then and now. But perhaps the movie’s most striking departure from the Animé is the absence of some key figures. Brock, Misty, Officer Jenny. I understand that maybe 90 or so minutes just wouldn’t be enough time to make Ash’s relationship with Brock and Misty believable, especially when Ash’s relationship with Pikachu should be centre stage. I know that the movie is really only a side quest in Ash’s overarching journey. A snapshot of his travels on his way to glory. But a small cameo would’ve been nice. Fighting a gym battle in Pewter or Cerulean City, especially since the only gym battle we see is beyond this point chronologically and so it’s not a case of Ash having not run into Brock and Misty yet. Ash’s direct rival, Cross left me feeling a little dissatisfied too. What was wrong with good ‘ol Gary. Even though Cross goes from Pokémon masochist to seeing that there’s more to the whole Pokémon thing than ruthless ambition, he’s still a bit of an ass when he goes his own way, despite the fact he owes Ash (and Charizard) his life. The Charizard he abandoned as a Charmander. The bastard. Yeah, he wasn’t my favourite. Let’s leave it at that. Something for the Newbies While you may think that because I’ve spent the last section of this review picking at this bit and that bit and perhaps making unfair comparisons to the Animé days, I just want to reiterate: I loved the movie, imperfect as it was. I loved it for all of my own reasons, some of which I’ve mentioned and some I’m yet to mention but also for other people’s reasons too (bear with me on this one). For as I watched the audience file into the cinema (and I saw absolutely everyone file in, having been über keen in arriving half an hour early), I began to realise that the Gen 1, diehard Pokémon fan wasn’t going to be the only type of Pokémon fan represented. I’m talking about the kids, of course. Kids ranging in age from 4 to 14. The younger ones especially excited to be seeing their favourite Pokémon on the big screen for the first time. One particular Mum and Dad ushered their two young daughters to their seats, one carrying a Squirtle and the other with a Charmander tucked under one arm and an Eevee peeking out of her bag dangling off the other arm. This is a whole new wave of Pokémon fans, all of whom weren’t even born when Ash first set foot out the door and the Gen 1 hype was thriving. And I can’t overstate how much this is a great thing to behold. That the love of Pokémon is still running strong some twenty plus years later. And that’s of course thanks to Pokémon moving with the generations. Literally. I know I’ve been banging on about how wonderfully Gen 1 is represented in I Choose You but in actual fact the movie does a great job of pleasing fans of all generations. If you grew up with Piplup as a starter, you’ll be happy to see that little guy flapping about onscreen; Lucario is perhaps one of the most recent Gen Pokémon to be embraced by both old and new fans alike and he’s here by Sorrel’s side in all of his hard assed glory. And even if you just dived into the world of Pokémon last November with the release of Sun & Moon, there’s plenty to keep you happy here. Marshadow appears and disappears, Cross’s midnight Lycanroc is broodingly evil at all times, and Incineroar, while low down on my favourite starter evolution list, will have younger fans especially bicep flexing and fist pumping in delight. Personally I would’ve loved to have seen Decidueye unleash the full extent of his ghost/grass power, being what I feel is the most impressive starter final evolution in generations but the fight with Charmeleon would then not have been a fair one. Again, to hammer home my slight bias for the original 151, I was glad to see Charizard kick Incineroar’s ass in the end, not just in terms of satisfying the movie’s story but also as a mini victory of Charizard, THE ultimate fire starter Pokémon of all generations for many, over Incineroar, who I feel would look better placed on the side of a cereal packet. Rarrr! That was a bit catty but yeah, he’s just not a favourite of mine but I’m totally fine with these younger generations cheering him on. I did actually force my eyes to leave the action now and again during the screening, as I sometimes do, just to see if everyone else is enjoying the action as much as me. Of course there were the parents, some of them maybe older fans like me but there were an equal if not greater number of bemused parents whose faces seemed to be struggling to grasp what all the fuss was about. But I salute these parents for giving up a chunk of their Sunday afternoon for the sake of their young Pokémaniacs. And what a wonderful sight it was to see this new generation of Pokémon fans hanging on Pikachu’s every ‘Pika’. One little boy stood up through majority of the film, clutching and peering over the empty seat in front, so obviously brimming with excitement. Someone somewhere in the darkness screamed a giddy ‘Pika-pi’ at one point, causing a fair few chuckles. Another child sitting along my row had an expression of pure awe etched on their face the whole time and I can completely understand why: imagine seeing the Legendary dogs for the first time; not just onscreen but EVER. Imagine seeing Ho-Oh for the very first time, gliding over that rainbow; imagine hearing the names Articuno, Zapdos & Moltres, as they were mentioned at the movie’s conclusion, and thinking to yourself ‘I wonder who they are?’ and then rushing out of the cinema to look them up and find out. Oh, to be young again and see it all with fresh eyes. Something for Everyone So far I’ve tried to look at how I Choose You might appeal to the older generation of Pokémon fans as well as the new. But although I’ve painted a picture of distinct camps of Pokémon fans, the movie does a great job of bringing fans from all corners together thanks primarily to its rich visual aesthetic. Everyone can appreciate the sun drenched vistas, rainswept plains, snow capped mountains, billowing clouds drifting over fields filled with flowers dancing in the wind, dense forests and buzzing metropolises so vividly and vibrantly depicted; each area alive with Pokémon just waiting to be discovered, caught and loved. The visual feast starts and continues unabated to the end, never more so than in the Pokémon battles which have never looked sharper and more dynamic. Charizard zooms into the air with a menacing elegance; Pikachu nimbly dodges this way and that, all before landing a thundershock attack of seismic proportions; you can almost feel the flames lick your face as Entei or Incineroar unleash a frightening flamethrower blast; and some of the Marshadow-possessed Pokémon’s attacks land onscreen with the megatonne force of an atomic bomb, or so it seems, also offering a stark contrast between the affectionate side of Pokémon and their über aggressive side when given the chance. It’s all lovely to watch and your senses aren’t allowed a moment’s rest. And that goes for your emotions too. In keeping with the willingness of some of the more recent video game entries in the series to explore powerful and often dark themes, I Choose You also does not shy away from putting its audience through the emotional grinder (the dark lore threads in Sun and Moon are especially worth reading about; I still think about that abandoned Stuffl). There’s neglect (Charmander in the rain), physical pain (Lycanroc biting Cross and not letting go, something that shocked me particularly for some reason), the dangers of greedy ambition (as Ash ponders if Pikachu would’ve won the fight which his Charmeleon just lost). The latter is particularly interesting if we consider the end of the movie; we see Ash finally battling Ho-Oh and the scene cuts to a long shot of the battle taking place from afar, represented by flashes of light on the mountainside. But we never actually find out if Ash managed to catch Ho-Oh or even come close, despite seeing Pikachu looking a little worse for wear as Ash delivers him to the Pokémon Centre after the battle. And this is ok, because we don’t really need to. Arguably, Ash’s greatest adversary isn’t Marshadow or Cross; it’s himself, as he has to put aside all of his own ambitions to save his friends and his beloved Pikachu. Some may perceive this uncertainty over Ho-Oh as quite unsatisfying but Ash’s willingness to let Ho-Oh go might point to him growing and realising there is more to his journey than ruthless ambition. Viewed like this, I find this ending very satisfying and think that had Ash done a pompous and over the top victory dance having caught Ho-Oh, this would not have been tonally in keeping with what we have just seen: everyone escape with their lives narrowly and Ash come back from the dead (or a state of semi death at least in an alternate reality). I’m glad that Ash emerges at the end of the movie better off having not had a moment like this. The Pokémon Centre Lady’s ‘That’s nice’ when Ash tells her they’ve just been battling Ho-Oh is perfect in showing that the result of that battle (caught or not) doesn’t really matter. And, most importantly, Ash seems ok with it too. I would go as far as to say he looks pleased to have had the opportunity to battle Ho-Oh, caught or not and Pikachu having lost. We can see he’s come a long way. Ash’s brush with death is incidentally not the only occasion that the movie is happy with testing its audience. I sat wide eyed as I watched that Luxray found dead in the snow, frozen, trying to protect its infant owner from the fate it ultimately suffered itself. This idea that Pokémon are dispensable yet indestructible; that they can be pushed to the limit with few consequence that a Pokémon Centre wouldn’t be able to fix. With Luxray’s onscreen death, this notion is shattered in an instant and the world the movie seeks to flesh out is made all the more real and believable for it; a tenderness and bond exists between people and their Pokémon which shouldn’t be scoffed at. And, in closing out this section of the review, that bond between person and Pokémon is hammered home no better as Ash and Pikachu part into different worlds, at the tail end of the movie. That moment as they lie face to face and Pikachu speaks. PIKACHU SPEAKS. I actually thought I was hearing things. The minute I saw it I knew this would be a scene to divide opinion. The cynical side of me initially thought this was an easy pull on the heart strings. The Pokémon equivalent of Jack and Rose. But it’s actually much more than this. Having begun watching the original Animé, I’ve been used to Pikachu communicating with Ash by way of facial expression or tonal variations on the same word or half word for nigh on 20 years. But to actually hear what the little guy truly thinks of his partner, that he never wants to leave his side. I’m going to level with everyone reading this. A tear welled up in my eye. The fact that Pikachu never wants to leave Ash’s side wasn’t exactly a revelation I admit but to allow something like this to happen by way of them sharing different realities and one of which being situated a stone’s throw away from death. It was beautiful. It won’t win and Oscar and some won’t think it was anywhere near as impactful as I’m describing. Some will think that it probably wasn’t necessary at all, seeing as a trainer’s bond with their Pokémon seems to transcend language. But, to put forward the most compelling argument for the scene’s inclusion, this is arguably what gives Ash the push he needs to transcend death and push out of that nether realm. Not for himself, but for Pikachu who he would be leaving alone otherwise. Aww man, I can feel the tears coming all over again. Joking (or not) over tears aside, the willingness of the Pokémon universe, both in film and video game media, to engage with what are uncomfortable topics, gives me lots of hope for the future. I still hope for a more adult fan orientated game in which our hero feels like he or she is in genuine peril or at risk of death (I don’t think I fainted once in Pokémon Moon!), a game which makes fans confront real world problems but then allows us to eventually overcome them. I know I’ll be hoping for a long time, as Gamefreak would be unlikely to make such a move and risk alienating such a huge demographic represented by the series’ youngest fans. But, on the flip side, I wouldn’t want this alienation to happen either. The fact that the movie was able to articulate some of these themes and do so in such a way as to make it palatable for younger viewers is a triumph in itself. Those wide eyed children in the audience of my screening were the proof of the pudding and long may it continue. Conclusion I really enjoyed I Choose You. Even though the movie wasn’t perfect, it did one thing really well for me personally: it affirmed my love of Pokémon, as if that really needed any affirmation in the first place. It reminded me just why I fell in love with everything Pokémon in the first place and why that loves has endured until today. The world of Pokémon and the simple but powerful messages it communicates are timeless: that someone seemingly insignificant can achieve great things and make a difference; that we should all step out of the front door and pursue our dreams; that we can rely on our friends and family for support along the way. Never have these messages been more relevant and important than in the shitstorm of a world we live in today and it’s always nice to be reminded that this is the other side of what humanity is capable of, even if that reminder does come from a fictional world filled with fictional creatures. Such is the power of art and fiction. I’ll finish here with a reflection on a scene from the movie which really made me pause and think (to the point where I nearly missed the five minutes of the onscreen action that followed). The scene is when Ash first succumbs to Marshadow’s dark seduction and is taken to an alternate reality where Pokémon don’t exist. He leaps out of bed, a poster on his bedroom wall of a blue car, a red car and a green car in place of Blastoise, Charizard and Venusaur. He’s late to school that day, not for Professor Oak’s lab. Just regular, boring old school. He looks out the window as he sits daydreaming in class , glimpsing Ho-Oh gliding high above, except it’s not Ho-Oh at all but an aeroplane. And when he questions what is beyond the confines of the school fence, we hear something along the lines of: towns, forests, fields, more towns, forests, fields and then the ocean. What is essentially being shown, described and imagined by Ash is a world without Pokémon. A drab, boring and monotone world which lacks a layer of purpose. Quite ironically, this is our reality. Real life. I remember sitting as a kid and thinking that the coolest thing in the world would be if Pokémon were real. To be caught, trained and loved. To some extent a virtual version of this was achieved via Pokémon Go but the initial hype has died down. I knew then, as a kid, and I know now that there won’t ever be anything approaching what Pokémon does in the real world but this scene in a Pokémonless alternate reality got me thinking about the wider implications of this being communicated (and I think intentionally) by the filmmakers. Imagine a world, this shitstorm of a world we live in, WITHOUT something as wonderful as Pokémon, even if they are only virtual monsters living on our screens. This phenomenon which has brought and continues to bring so many people together, be it via the TCG, games or Animé. The phenomenon which was a huge part of my childhood and is something I engage with in some way every single day as a grown man. Imagine if all of that didn’t exist and never had done. It’s a frightening thought and as Ash snapped out of his alternate reality and I came back to mine, I gave thanks for the enduring charm and appeal of Pokémon. The fact that I was sitting in that cinema seat almost twenty years on, still enjoying everything the Pokémon universe has to offer is something that I’m so pleased the film allowed me to experience and feel and give thanks for. Thank you for the memories, Pokémon and here’s to the memories still to be made. My final parting piece of advice: stay beyond the credits. A few shorts, a goosebump-inducing rendering of the initial start sequence to the original Pokémon games on Gameboy and a beautiful piano arrangement of the Pokémon Animé theme tune. A shout out also to @brayshgaming - I hope he particularly enjoyed the Noivern clip but also hope that it isn’t now a regular feature in his nightmares. There is no escape! Thanks for reading guys. Comments on my reflections are most welcome and I’d love to hear some of your own thoughts about the movie. This review was written solely from my memory of watching the movie (and thanks to lots of frantic jotting down of ideas the moment the lights went up, while they were still fresh in my mind). There may therefore be some inaccuracies in here which I cannot yet verify without watching the movie again. Apologies if so.

[freezing-kaiju]

survivors of shards

chapter 14

@apollowuzhere wrote this whole bit

(also possibly @irazel, should probably ask for clarification)

PERSPECTIVE SWITCH: Calcite

My gem was still just about steaming after almost an hour and a half of walking.  The nerve of those humans, treating the tanzanites like that.  Alabaster wanting to come with me after poofing the terrified gem.  They wouldn’t help me at all and I knew it; they didn’t trust Willa or Billy any more than I trusted this town.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud rustle behind me.  I whipped around to find two disheveled rubies with twigs in their hair and covered in mud.  We stared at each other for a moment until I broke the silence.

“What are you two doing here?!” I asked angrily.

They moved back a little bit.  “We….we were worried you’d get hurt, so we followed you,” Pine explained.

“Yeah!  Like, what if the humans here were super mean to you?” Star asked, concern in her voice.  “Then you’d be in trouble and we couldn’t do anything!”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.  “Look,” I began, “I can take care of myself.  You two shouldn’t be out here.”

“B-but I don’t want to leave!” Pine complained.

“Me neither!” Star yelled.

“Ok, fine.”  I got down on one knee and put a hand on each of their shoulders.  “If you promise you’ll behave and won’t go looking for trouble, you can come.”

“Yay!” They both jumped on me.  I fell to the ground laughing, then picked them up and placed them on my shoulders.  They pointed out little things they noticed around them while I listened, cracking jokes when I saw fit.

It was another hour before we saw any sign of civilization.  We came out of the woods to be greeted by a building that looked suspiciously like a huge log.  On the log was a wooden sign that read “Greasy’s Diner” in big cursive letters.

“Well, this looks like a good place to start,” I said.  The rubies hopped off my shoulders, keeping close to me while I investigated the area.

The diner had maybe twelve humans inside, some sitting at tables and some carrying plates of food.  They were all chatting and laughing while they ate.  We walked in and a little bell jingled when the door opened, signaling our arrival.

As we walked, we got some strange glances.  It wasn’t surprising, many humans were new to the concept of gems.  A few of the older patrons even looked afraid.  The rubies and I sat down at a counter lined with red leather stools.  

A woman behind said counter approached us cheerfully.  She had grey hair and a lazy eye, but she seemed happy nonetheless.

“Hello!” she greeted.  “Welcome to Greasy’s Diner.  I’m Lazy Susan, I’ll be your waitress today.  What would you dears like?”

“I’ll have a grilled cheese,” I said, resting my chin on my hand.  I turned to the rubies.  “Would you two like anything?”

“Sprinkles!” Star exclaimed.

“I-I’m ok,” Pine said.

“Coming right up!”  Lazy Susan scribbled something on a notepad and ripped the paper off, placing it on a wheel hanging in front of the kitchen window.  She turned back around only to notice the gem on the back of my right hand.

“Say, you’re one of those gem aliens, aren’t ya?” she questioned.

I looked at my gem and then back at her.  “Yes, yes we are.”  The rubies also checked out their own gems, Pine’s being in the same place as mine and Star’s being on her opposite hand.

“Boy, I haven’t seen any of you come in for about thirty years!”

“Yeah I was meaning to ask about that,” I began.  “We found two gems out in the woods not too far from here.  Tanzanites, one blue, one yellow.”

“Oh yes!  They were the last gems I saw!  They used to come in and talk with me on slow days.  I’d always keep an extra bottle of booze for Billy.  Boy did they love their booze!”

“You knew them well?”

“Very well!  But one day they just….stopped coming.  The town started spreading rumors about how they were evil and bent on killing everyone, but I always remembered the nice talks we’d have.  Sometimes they’d even come and give me fresh fruit from an orchard a few miles down the road.”  She smiled at the happy memories.

I hummed in thought.  “Before they stopped coming, did they hang out around someone in particular?”

“Um….yeah I think so.  This man who lives out in the woods with his niece, nephew, and brother.  I think his name was Stanford?”

“Where is the cabin?”

She pointed to her left, straining to bend her elbow in the correct direction.  “Somewhere that way.”

“Thanks.”  I’ll began to push up from the counter, but Star grabbed onto my flannel shirt.  Looking down, she gave me a wide eyed look.  “What?”

“What about the sprinkles?” she asked.

I took a deep breath and sat back down, much to Star’s delight.  We sat there, quite impatiently at least on my part, and waited for our food.

The ding from the entrance bell rang and I saw two more humans walk in.  They looked pretty young.  One looked male, the other female, however they both looked very similar.  They both had brown hair, the girl’s longer than the boy’s, chocolate brown eyes, and pale skin.  The boy had a thick leather journal in his arms and a trucker’s cap on his head while the girl was wrapped in a thick sweater.  The girl took a seat next to Pine, the boy on her other side, and they began chatting.  Pine hyperfocused on the boy’s journal, clearly intrigued.

The book had a blue pine tree on the cover that flashed in the flourescent light of the diner.  It was covered in small scratches and faded in places from age.  A pen hung from a string that marked his page in the journal.  Even though she was facing away from me, I could imagine the sparkle in Pine’s eyes.

After about five minutes of staring, the boy took notice.  He looked nervous and moved the journal away from us a bit.  Pine startled back a little and shrunk into her chair.

“I….I’m sorry,” she said.  “I l-like your book.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” the boy replied.

“Oh my god aren’t you adorable?!” the girl excitedly shrieked.  She squeezed Pine’s face between her hands, ogling over the little gem.  Pine pouted in her grasp but didn’t make an effort to get away.  

From my other side, Star leaned over to get a look.  Her face was covered in sprinkles and her cheeks were stuffed.  She gave a muffled “hello” and showered sprinkles all over the counter.

The girl gasped and clasped her own cheeks.  “There’s another!”

“They sure seem to like you,” I deadpanned.  I wanted to make sure they knew that they couldn’t hurt those rubies without going through me first.

“Huh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” the boy agreed, smiling.  He rested a hand on Pine’s head.

“Are you, like, their dad, or their grunkle?” the girl asked.

I frowned.  “No, I’m not-”

Star interrupted, now having swallowed her mouthful of sugary sprinkles, “What’s a grunkle?”

“It’s what we call our great uncles,” the boy explained.  “We just mashed the words together.”

Star smiled at the simple yet funny word.  “Ya, she’s our grunkle!” she exclaimed.

They were clearly embarrassed by that sentence.  “Oh, um, sorry,” the boy said awkwardly.  “She didn’t know-”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him, cutting him off.  “Gender has no meaning to me.”

“Well….ok.  I’m Dipper, and this is my twin sister Mabel,” he introduced.

“Hi!” Mabel cheerfully greeted.

I shook both of their hands.  I think they were a little surprised by the strength of my grip; Dipper even rubbed his hand a bit like it hurt.

“Great to meet you.  I’m Calcite, and this is Pine and Star.”

“Heya!” Star squealed.

“Hi,” Pine whispered.

“Wait, isn’t calcite a kind of stone?” Dipper questioned.

“Yes, I’m a gem,” I explained.  “We’ve heard rumors about other gems coming through this town in the past.”

The two humans exchanged a nervous look, like if I had just cursed in front of a small human.

“What kind of gems are these cuties?” Mabel asked not quite as happily as before.

“We’re rubies!” Star exclaimed, not picking up on the change of tone.  Pine, however, did.

“Is….is something wrong?” she wondered.

“Nope!” Mabel responded quickly.  “No, everything’s fine!”

“Mabel, we should go,” Dipper said softly.

“Uh, ya, we’ll see you around!”

They walked out the door in a hurry, the bell dinging again.  I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.  What was their problem?

Lazy Susan returned with two cups of coffee for the twins.  She was very confused and just set the mugs down where they were sitting.

“Hey, who were those two?” I asked her.

“Well those were the two I told you about, the niece and nephew living out in the woods,” she explained.

My eyes shot open.  We had to follow them and find out what happened to those tanzanites, but there was no way of doing it without seeming strange.

“Grunkle Calcite!” Pine whisper yelled.  “Look!”  She held up Dipper’s notebook with a victorious look on her face.

“Good job Pine!” I congratulated.  “And don’t call me that.”

I reached for it, but Pine pulled back.  “Can….can I carry it?”

“Sure, but let’s go.  We need to catch up with them.”

I jumped off the stool and grabbed the rubies by the hand, yanking them out the door.  I dragged the rubies behind me while I sped through the forest.  The girl seemed to have left behind a trail of glitter, so that made my job much easier.

We reached a small log cabin after about twenty minutes.   A large sign on the roof read “Mystery Shack,” except the S had fallen and made a crater by the entrance.  Humans with cameras mingled around taking tons of pictures.  A few even awed and took pictures of us, at least until I smacked the camera out of one guy’s hands and the others ran in fear.  I must be really intimidating.

We approached the entrance to a place called the “gift shop.”  The walls had shelves lined with trinkets and gadgets that made little to no sense to me.  Behind the counter was a red headed girl with her face in a magazine.  She looked up, nodded at us, and went back to reading.

We passed by a doorway covered in a thick black curtain, and Star held me back.  She was peeking through a crack which Pine and I joined in.  The twins were sitting in a small living room, enjoying a bowl of popcorn and some show with a strange kind of bird in a hat and cape.  I decided to knock on the wood outside of the curtain before trying to enter.

“Visitors aren’t allowed back here!” Mabel yelled back nonchalantly.  She sounded like she was reading from a note card.

“It’s us,” I responded.  “You left something at the diner.”

A moment later, Mabel was pushing back the curtain, only for Star to rush through her legs and into the room.

“Hey!” I scolded.  “Come back here!  Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry Grunkle Calcite,” she not-so-genuinely replied.

“Stop calling me that.”

Pine slowly approached Dipper, who was still cross-legged on the carpet, and held up the book.

“My journal!” he exclaimed.  “Thanks!”  The moment he took it Pine rushed back and hid behind my leg.

“Y-you’re welcome,” she said.

Suddenly Star came jumping up from behind the couch wearing Mabel’s sweater, which was way too big for her.  She flapped her arms around, the sleeves flying in all directions, until she tripped on the waistline.

“What is this thing?” she wondered playfully.  “It’s so much fun!”

“Wait, you don’t know what a sweater is?” Mabel asked.

“We’ve only been here for a couple weeks,” I explained, “and these two don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean by ‘here?’” Dipper questioned.

“You know, here,” I said.  “Earth.  This planet.”

“You guys are aliens?!” Mabel shrieked.  “But Grunkle Ford said-” She slapped her hands over her mouth.

“Actually, that’s part of the reason I wanted to come here,” I began.  “We found a couple corrupted gems out in the woods recently.  They were two tanzanites, a yellow one named Billy, and a blue one named Willa.  They had been placed in those pyramid statues not too far from here.”

“Yeah, we know those,” Dipper said.  “Most of the townsfolk steer clear of that area because they tend to attack people.”

“Did they know why?” I asked.

“They just thought they didn’t like humans,” Mabel told me.

“Hmm.  Well when I was out there, I got a better look at the situation.  They were not using their powers for offense, but for defense.  They were afraid of what could happen if they let anyone get too close.”

Dipper put a hand on his chin and hummed.  “That would make sense, but how did they get out there?  We were always told that’s where they chose to hide to attack unwary travelers.”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.  There was no way they ended up like that on accident, it was too specific.  However, there is no possible way they did it themselves either.  They were in a miserable condition and a significant amount of pain, and no one would choose that existence.”

The twins paused, looking sadly at me and then the rubies, who were intrigued with the popcorn.  Dipper met my eyes.

“What does this have to do with us?”

“Not with you specifically,” I said, “but with your Grunkle Ford, as you call him.  We think he may have something to do with it.”

[emisonme]

Here we go again..................

That MTV interview with the photographer was a well written piece of propaganda for "Bare with me", basically saying that love is love, and it is beautiful in all forms. The stuff about Lauren and Lucy was all propaganda to prop up the narrative.

The photographer and the wardrobe lady were only saying what they were advised to say. LIES! (though the wardrobe lady decided to fuck the narrative a bit with the "sisterly and maternal connection") Management did the same thing with DWTS. Val was advised to lie about when and where he had his first meet up with Normani for DWTS. They had been rehearsing for days before that Houston Rodeo, yet they wanted to push the narrative to the general public that the girls were in on the surprise, and helped introduce Mani to her dance partner. Why? To show how much they support her decision to do her own thing.

My point is, they (management) have no problem getting outside forces, other than the girls, to help sell their narrative. The ladies who did that photo-shoot with Lauren and Lucy are no different. Why have the photographer say what she said? They needed someone, other than Lauren or Lucy, to confirm that Laucy was real, to prove that Camren wasn't. That one interview killed three birds with one stone. It confirmed Laucy, destroyed Camren, then destroyed Laucy, all at the same damn time. Brilliant actually.

Why did they need to confirm Laucy, and do so in a way that spans a few years? A few reasons really. Lauren was tired of being stuck in the public closet. She was ready to be herself, and to come out as "a proud Cuban American Bisexual woman". She couldn't do that, because it would basically confirm Camren. The Label's are not ready for Camila to be considered anything but "straight" for her career.

People keep asking, even though I have explained it before, why it's OK for Lauren to come out, but not Camila. Again, Bisexuality is more accepted in the Music Industry than Homosexuality is. They convinced Camila, and maybe more so her mother, that if she wanted a lasting career in the music business, she had to be "straight", and mention boys every time she opens her mouth. For a girl who used to stomp her feet and curse under her breath every time she was asked about boys, we have been hearing the word "boys" come out of her mouth, at least three times in every damn interview since she went solo. It's a promo trick. They want to pound into our heads that "Mila likes boys". I recognize the trick, that's why I'm not buying it.

So, Lauren needed a prop to come out, that could be believable and take the emphasis off of Camila and Camren. Who better, than her already out Bisexual best friend. It's not the first time someone famous has used their BFF to come out, and it won't be the last.

Let's do a little timeline..................................................................................

If my memory serves me correctly, Lauren and Camila were both "separately single" in the beginning of 2015. I believe it was around June of that year, when they really started publicly pushing Laucy in our direction. Interestingly enough, that's also the same month they started to push a possible Shawmila romance at us.

They weren't confirming Shawmila, but they weren't denying it either. They just sat back and let the fans do their thing, to promote the duet. Then after a while and song success, it was decided to put an end to the Shawmila rumors and say "just friends". No worries. With the demise of Shawmila, they began ramping up Laucy. They also began ramping up the "tension" between Camila and the girls. They needed to kill Camren 1) before Lauren came out, and 2) before they announced Camila's departure.

That brings us into 2016 and the 7/27 era. Last year, Lauren couldn't turn around without bumping heads with Lucy. She was everywhere Lauren was. London in May. Brazil in June. A few different stops on the North American leg of the tour. Lauren literally couldn't sneeze, that Lucy wasn't right there to wipe her nose.

It went both ways. They had Lauren spending almost all of her free time in NOLA with Lucy as well. The very private Lauren, the same girl who can travel the world's airports without anyone knowing she's there, never failed to let it be publicly know that she was in NOLA with Lucy.

Then it was off to Europe. October was an emotional month for all of the girls. Camila was publicly separated from them, and all of the girls were an emotional mess, but they never failed to put on a good show. After a little over a month, they got to finally come home, just in time for Halloween.

I don't know about you, but if I had just spent a month away from my girlfriend, my first stop after arriving home, would have been her bed, not California for a few days to play dress-up with friends. Maybe that's just me.

November was also a very busy month. They had to cram quite a bit into Novermber, before Thanksgiving and the Jingle Ball tour. Lauren had to go to a family wedding and pose for a kiss pic with Lucy, so it could be "leaked" (released for the public to see).

A few days later, Camila is at the dentist and snaps that she has seen all the hoopla over the kiss pic, and that she regrets logging on. She then is outside and she shoots out a tweet of a pic of her and a dinosaur, with the caption, "cuffing season" then another one that said "please believe me" Then they all go to the Epic party, where I'm pretty sure Camila is the one to find out, December 18 will be her final show with the girls. I know this all happened the same day, because she was wearing the same clothes.

Then just a few days later, Lauren officially comes out, in a long ass Trump rant in Billboard Magazine. After that rant is published, we find out that Lauren and Lucy are doing some kind of photo-shoot together. On November 20, the girls go to the AMA's. We got some cute Camren moments. Lauren had to stop herself from putting her hand around Camila's neck. It was funny.

That brings us to December. The Jingle Ball tour starts and 'Back To Me" is released. Lauren, sometime, does a live chat with Marian Hill, where she sort of addresses her Bisexuality, but says nothing about the kiss pic or a relationship with Lucy. We get to the Dec. 18 Miami Jingle Ball performance. In the very early hours of Dec 19, Management shoots out a ridiculous message to the masses announcing Camila's official departure from Fifth Harmony, to pursue a solo career. Then we are blessed with that whole cluster fuck back and forth, between Management. (must have been awkward criticizing themselves)

Merry Christmas! Who wasn't expecting a Christmas pic of Laucy? We've all seen the picture. Apparently there is more than one way to view it. Laucy shippers see a nice moment with a loving couple. I don't see it that way, at all. I see Lauren's thin lipped forced smile, her glassy eyes, and her stance, and my first thought was "she'd rather be cuddling a cactus." I mean, come on. She looks like she'd rather be getting shark piss shot up her nose with a three foot needle, than posing for that pic...but I digress.

Happy New Year! Camila heads off to Cancun for some fun in the sun, and Lauren heads off to Lake Tahoe for some fun in the snow. She poses for a snowy night pic with Lucy, a bottle of Champaign, and an ugly ass piñata. She parties with some friends, does a live performance with Marian Hill, then falls off the face of the earth. I'm pretty sure I know where she went, but anyways. She reappears at LAX a few days later, takes a pic to prove she was there, then off again.

5H do their PCA performance, on January 18, just before that is  Lucy's Birthday. January 11, is the first time there is even a  hint to Laucy by Lauren. She writes out a B-day message to her, basically saying how happy she is to have Lucy in her life, and addresses her as "My Love". WTF! Oh wait. If calling Lucy "My Love" in a birthday message means she fucking her, she must have also fucked Ally somewhere along the line, because she called her the same damn thing, in a birthday message.

That brings us to the Women's March on Jan.21. Lauren and Lucy were at the same March, only they weren't together. Uh oh, trouble in Paradise? (how are people actually falling for this shit) Rumors start flying that Lauren cheated on Lucy at the PCA's. REALLY!!! Is that the best you could come up with? What, did Lauren whisper "My Love" to a stage hand and get lucky. Jesus Christ!

Then it's Camila's turn to do press. She does an interview were she is asked if she has had any contact with the girls since her departure. She says "No! I tried. It's to sad to talk about." move on. The girls also refuse to discuss her when asked. OMG! The girls hate Camila. Camila loves the girls. How can Camren be a thing, if they aren't even talking? Everything's a damn mess! ONLY IF YOU BELIEVE ALL THE BULLSHIT!!!!!

To bring it full circle, Now we are back to the hilarious happenings of the last couple of days. They released the photo's from the photo-shoot first. The Laucy shippers were on cloud nine, and completely full of themselves. I'll admit, they were some nice pics. Lauren looked fantastic. Then they released the interview, and the Laucy shippers got gut punched.

The photographer, from a 4 month old photo-shoot, does an MTV News interview about Laucy. A fucking photographer "confirms" that Lauren and Lucy were in an on again off again relationship, for years. They were a beautiful loving couple during the shoot, but wait, they aren't together anymore, but they wanted us to still share these loving memories with the world. HOW SWEET!!!

Wait, since this on again off again relationship spanned years, when was there time for Camren? Well, let's see. Lauren had that Emblem 3 guy in 2012. There was Luis from the end of 2013 to July/Aug 2014. Then there was Brad also in 2014. They didn't "break up" until December. Lucy didn't move back to the States from Puerto Rico, until the Fall of 2014, to attend classes in NOLA. That means, Lauren didn't "reconnect" with Lucy until 2015. So that means, this on/off relationship that spanned years, was in 2015/2016. How convenient. She showed up just in time to kill Camren, help push Camila's solo career, and for Lauren's coming out. Do you not get it guys???

The whole point of Laucy, was to destroy the Camren ship, so Lauren could come out, without being linked to Camila, and so Camila could go solo, without being linked to Lauren.

So in one interview, a photographer managed to confirm Laucy, kill Camren, and break-up Laucy. I'd say that photographer knew EXACTLY what to say, wouldn't you? (like reading from a well rehearsed script) just sayin.

It couldn't end there though, could it! NO! Those delusional, disgusting, crazy ass Camren shippers, just had to get some payback. They started the #laucypartyover. Really, just couldn't let it go could you?

Apparently, Lauren (or her SM handlers) were stalking that hash tag. Someone tweeted using the hash tag "no wonder Lauren hates Camren"  Couldn't let that go by without a comment, right? It was laughable really. I mean, it wasn't just never real, it was "...never real...Ever"

Why would Lauren (if it was her) go out of her way to comment on a Camren tweet in a Laucy thread. Simple, after it was confirmed that Laucy were no more, the Camren shippers got their hopes up. Not on Lauren's watch. She literally obliterated the Camren ship...again. Why is she so adamant about killing it. Two reasons. 1) to protect Camila and her solo career and 2) now, Lauren is out and proud, single ready to mingle. (not really, but for Camren's sake, lets pretend)

What about Laucy? Lauren and Lucy are and have always been BFF's. Lucy is still available to use again, if need be. You know what the best part about all of this crap is? Finally, Lauren and Camila can have their "secret" relationship in private, without all of the Camren bullshit. (yes, I still ship them)

I don't know when it will be "safe" for Camila to come out, but one day she will get to. She wanted to before, but was pressured to keep quiet. The pressure, eventually will be off, and she'll get to be her true self, not only in private, but in public. Until then, I am going to continue to support Camila, Lauren, Dinah, Normani, and Ally. They all lost control of their lives chasing their dreams. They have done nothing to deserve the hate and the division of this damn fandom. We should support every single one of them, and wish for them all to find their true bliss, despite the fucked up business they're in and the people who run it.

[johnnyxmeena]

Momma Rosita Pt. 2

This is based on @igottab-bbc idea of Johnny calling Rosita Mom, but with my own spin on it. Enjoy! _________________________________________________ He’d been staying with Rosita and her family for at least a month now since his dad went to jail and Rosita had decided to have Johnny stay with her and the rest of her family, and they have been nothing, but nice and accepting. It wasn't as bad as one would seem, when Johnny first moved in he was woken up by at least ten of the piglets, Rosita had scolded them and apologized, but Johnny said it was fine and now it's part of his morning routine. The kids would usually with call him Johnny, or big brother, or a combination of the two, it warmed his heart and made him smile. Norman greeted him with a smile and a pat on the back, at First he was worried that Norman didn't like him, but Rosita explained that he's never been the most vocal animal, that did calm his nerves. Rosita’s the same at rehearsals as she as at home, she makes sure everyone's doing ok and is taking care of them. She reminds Johnny when to go to bed, eating, and made sure he checked in with her before he goes out and tells her where he's going exactly, just in case. Johnny’s never felt more at home before. That day Johnny had been planning on going out to hang out with Meena, she was going to show him how to make muffins, he asked her if she could help him make them so he could give them to Rosita and the family to show his appreciation. After the wake up call from the piglets, he got ready in the bathroom real quick, got changed and headed downstairs, a few of the kids were already downstairs eating their cereal sleepily, but happily waiting for the others to come down, as he passed by he said good morning, in response the kids hummed, their mouths filled with their breakfast. Johnny smiles and reaches for an apple and taking a big bite out of it, he chewed happily as he leaned against the counter, waiting for Rosita to come down, so he could tell her his plans for later that evening. She doesn't usually come downstairs until all the kids are, that's to make sure everyone's done getting ready before breakfast. Johnny watches as the kids start to come down the stairs in single file, signaling Rositas appearance after the last piglet, walking right behind the last one, and Norman trailing behind her. “Good morning my darlings.” Rosita greets as she reaches the last step. “Morning mommy!” They all tell back, then go back to laughing and talking to each other. Rosita smiles and Norman kisses her cheek as he heads off I the other direction to gather his things for work. “Good morning Johnny.” Rosita smiles at him and turns to the sink and turns on the radio so the only noise she hears isn't just the kids and their chaos. “Mornin’ Mum.” Johnny’s about to take the last bite of his apple, but stops hearing the words he just said, his eyes widen. Rosita stops short, wondering if she's heard him right, a confused look on her face she turns to look at him, and he looks just as shocked as she is. “I'm sorry.” He says immediately under Rositas stare, he quickly throws his Apple away. “It was an accident.” “No, sweetie, I don't mi-” Rosita begins quickly as to ease his nerves, but Johnny is already speed walking out of the house. “Won't ‘appen again!” He yells as he gets to the the door. “It's,” Johnny slams the door shut, “okay.” Rosita finishes to herself staring at the door with a blank face Norman comes walking into the room with his briefcase in hand. “Did I just hear the door slam?” He asks “Yeah,” Rosita says still looking at the door, “Johnny just left.” “Oh,” Norman looks at the door than at Rosita, reading her blank expression, “what happened?” He asks another question. This time Rosita slowly turns her head towards her husband, the faintest smile on her lips. “He called me mom.” “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.” Johnny berated himself as he hit the wheel multiple times as he drove towards Meena’s house desperately needing to leave. He's hoping that she wouldn't mind him coming in earlier than expected, he parks on the otherside of the street and walks across to her house. He knocks three times and waits, he hears different voices conversing as they get closer to the door. The door swings open. “I told you I'll get the door, you worry too much!” The elephant says to the rest of the household behind him and turns around. Johnny freezes up, Meena’s grandfather, according to Meena, has always been kind of a hard head and pushy, so the nervousness of seeing the oldest elephant whenever he comes over is through the roof. When he turns around he looks down and see’s Johnny standing there, his face becomes bored and annoyed. “Oh, it's you. Meena,” he starts to walk away, “it's the Gorilla.” He calls out. “Grandpa, be nice.” Meena scolds as he walks past her, when he's out of sight Johnny relaxes, Meena turns towards Johnny and smiles. “Hey Johnny, I didn't think you were coming over until later?” Meena asks. “I, I um have to talk to you about something that happened.” He says nervously, looking up at Meena. “Oh yeah, of course.” She says letting him in and closes the door behind him. Meena had offered talking in her room, but feeling her grandfather burn holes into the back of his head after the question was asked, Johnny decided it was safer to just stay in the downstairs area instead. He followed Meena to the kitchen and watched as she began to bring out different mixing bowls and mixers, along with the ingredients needed for blueberry muffins. “So,” Meena starts as she turns around to look at Johnny, who seems to be slumping a bit on the counter, “what did you want to talk about.” “Well,” Johnny brings his hand to his neck, “I kind of called Rosita ‘Mum’ today.” “Oh,” Meena stops, “and, what did she say.” “I didn't catch her response, I just got out of ‘here as fast as I could, I was so embarrassed.” Johnny groans out and covered his face with his hands. “So you left, and you didn't tell her where you were going?” Meena asks a little shocked. “Oh, shit,” Johnny whispers to himself, “I didn't.” Meena looks at Johnny with a bit of disappointment, but looks back at everything in front of her and decides that he's had a confusing enough day, that he didn't need her scolding today. “Come here and help.” She says over her shoulder to the gorilla, he looks at her for a moment before walking over, happy for the distraction. Rosita has been mulling over what happened all day as she did her usual routine, although nothing was much of a distraction. Mom, a name she had gotten so used to, yet it still confused her to hear it. Maybe it was because it came from someone else's mouth rather than her kids. She had a blank face on for most of the day while taking care of chores, except for the times for when she'd look at the clock and see what time it was, wondering and worrying even Johnny would be back. Soon the kids came home from school, they had dinner, then Norman came home, and it was getting late. Meena sat on her bed watching Johnny pace around her room, Meena had finally convinced him that talking up stairs was a better idea due to her family wanting to be in her business all the time, but as Johnny followed her up he did happen to catch her grandfather's death glare, which did not settle his nerves. “Why don't you just go talk to her? I think that's the easiest solution.” Meena suggests, her eyes following Johnny. “I don't know, I just feel so awkward about it, why did i ‘ave to call ‘er mum in the first place.” Johnny sits down I. Meena's desk chair and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “Well, maybe because you think of her like that.” Johnny looks up confused, Meena continues. “Rositas been taking care of you and has been doing her ‘mom’ duty. This may sound personal, but did you know your mom?” Meena winces a bit at her question. Johnny thinks a moment. “No, I've never met her.” “Then Rositas taking place for her in your head, because of everything she's done for you, make sense.” Meena states looking at Johnny waiting for his response. “Yeah,” Johnny thinks back to all Rositas kindness, “yeah it does.” He smiles, but then checks his watch and almost jumps out his seat at seeing the time. “Oh shit, I'm late.” Johnny begins to grab his jacket and containers of muffins. “I'll see ya later.” Johnny rushes out her bedroom door, before she could respond. “See you-” Meena's caught of by Johnny running back in and kissing her on the cheek. “Thanks for everything.” Johnny smiles then rushes back out. Meena sits there wide eyed and touches her cheek. “No problem.” She says to herself as she hears the door to the outside close and Johnny drive off. It's 11 o’clock, and Rosita sits at the kitchen table in her pajamas with a cup of coffee, that has gone cold sometime ago, in between her hands, she stares at her reflection, does she always look this tired. Norman had told her that she should go to sleep and get some rest, he was a kid after all, who knows how long he'd be gone. Rosita refused though, what if he came home but lost his Keys or was hurt, she couldn't just sleep thinking of that. Rosita nearly jumps when she hears a car pull into the driveway, she gets up immediately checking out the window to see it’s Johnny's car. Not sure on what to do she just stands in the entry way waiting for Johnny to enter. She hears the keys jingle and the door opens slowly and lightly, she supposed as to not wake up anyone. Johnnys head pops in with the rest of his body as he turns to close the door trying to make it as quiet as possible with one hand, the other holds two containers, Rosita watches not making a sound. When Johnny turns around he nearly yelps, but jumps a bit at seeing Rosita standing there. “Uh, hi,” he whispers, Rosita doesn't say anything her arms crossed, “I made you guys blueberry muffins.” Johnny smiles a bit extending the containers out, he pulls them back in when she doesn't respond. “What time is it Johnny.” Rosita states more than asks. “It's eleven-” “Eleven o’clock,” Rosita interrupts, “and I did not once get a call from you, nor any information as to where you were.” Her tone becoming strict, Johnny gulps. “For all I know you could've been lying face down in a ditch somewhere!” She whisper yells flinging her hands up in frustration. “You didn't bring your phone with you, so when I tried calling you, your laundry was ringing! I need to be able to reach you, what if you get stuck somewhere and you need my help. Oh, that's it,”Rosita stops short. “You're grounded.” She says with a final tone. “Grounded?” Johnny asks confused. “Oh yeah buddy, 2 weeks, no 3.” Rosita points. “And just don't think because you brought muffins you're off the hook, no, you're only allowed to go to practice and home, that and,” she's cut off. Johnny got to his knees and hugs Rosita, she's not quite sure what to do, surprised by the sudden hug, Rosita stands there. “Thank you for everything, you've been the best and only mum I've ever ‘ad.” Johnny squeeze sea her tighter. Rosita begins to tear a bit, she hugs him back just as tightly. “I'm just glad that you're happy.” She says. “Am I not grounded anymore?” He asks, Rosita laughs a little bit. “Not a chance.” Rosita smiles. “Thought so.” Johnny whispers “No problem.” She whispers back.