#pony ricks face was so perfect

[plumbus-central]

i put off drawing them as ponies for a long time but making these was some of the most fun i've had in a while

credit to @pinelessness for the idea that rick is a non-unicorn who creates his own horn thru magic

[thomas-life]

I wrote and @drksanctuary drew the chapter image for my Fluffy Coffee Shop AU Oneshot. its just short and cute. i hope you enjoy!

 A Nicobaster Coffee Shop AU with notes of ReyRae.

Hazel opens up a coffee shop and Nico is helping her out by working at it while she is still hiring staff. He meets the local union rep Alabaster Torrington...

Hidden Gem Cafe

“Well don’t you look chipper.��

Nico huffs and glares in the direction of one Rachel Elizabeth Dare.  She looks entirely too well put together with her red curls in a pony tail and black apron around her waist. The coffee shop door clinks closed behind him and he locks it. They don’t open for another 30 minutes.

“Some of us,” Nico replies, “aren’t born to be Baristas.”

Rachel snorts at his attempt at insulting her. “You’re just grumpy because you’re used to waking up at noon, and we both know it.” She pats his shoulder sympathetically as he passes. “You really will do anything for your sisters.”

Nico grunts. The clock on the break room wall reads 4:30 a.m.

Who in their right mind would ever willingly be up this early in the morning for coffee?  He emerges with his apron tied around his hips and eyeliner applied in hopes that the bags under his eyes don’t show too starkly. Rachel is preparing the drip coffee canisters and Nico starts on the pastry display case.  He’s a little surprised that Hazel hasn’t show up, but according to his text string she had barely managed to get to bed around 2 am, anxious as she was for the Hidden Gem Café’s Grand Opening. 

Nico opens the doors right on time, Rachel humming behind the counter. He can’t help but yawn. “Why are you like this.” He deadpans. He has no energy in his entire body and she laughs at him.

“The trick,” she side whispers like it’s some big secret, “ –is that I never went to sleep in the first place!” She sing songs the rest, and Nico can’t help but realize…Rachel is delusional.

He groans and makes a cup of coffee with creamer and four sugars. He might as well take advantage, and coffee really is mostly a way he uses to get sugar into his system. He takes a large swig as the door chimes and Hazel’s first ever customer enters.

The man that enters is tall and looks a little frantic. Nico tries to smile but it doesn’t come naturally, so he settles on a bemused expression as the man approaches the counter, his dress shoes clicking along the vinyl flooring. “Hey,” Nico wonders if that was too casual of a greeting but proceeds, as it’s too early to be self-conscious. “What can I get you?” The man’s squinting at the menu on the wall behind the counter, freckles scrunching on his nose; He seems almost startled to be addressed at all.

“Oh- ah,” He clears his throat looking vaguely apologetic and he ruffles his light brown hair. “Do you sell large travel containers of coffee?”

Nico nods, “We’re not busy, so we can make you one, but it will take some time. It’s $30 plus tax.”

The man brightens, “Perfect. I’ll also get a small coffee and…” he looks at the pastry display case, “One of those lemon poppy seed muffins.” A smile flashes across his face and Nico can’t help but think the man is handsome.

“You got it.” Nico winks at him, and blames it on how sleep deprived he is; he can feel the sugar and caffeine starting to work through his blood stream,  “Name for the order?”

“Alabaster.”

Alabaster sounds a little strained…Maybe I shouldn’t have winked at him. Nico thinks as he writes the name on a small cup. He looks up to see Alabaster blushing and holding his hand against the bottom half of his face. Or maybe I should do it again… Nico reconsiders, his mood sufficiently boosted. He fills the small cup himself since Rachel is working on the traveler and grabs the muffin as Alabaster inserts his credit card to pay. He looks at the other pastries in the case and grabs a cookie.

He hands both over to Alabaster. “Here’s something sweet... For being our first customer at our Grand Opening.”

Alabaster flushes again and takes them. “Thank you. I do appreciate you accommodating me.”

“Anytime.” Nico responds; This time the smile comes easily. “Enjoy your coffee. You’re traveler will be ready in a couple minutes.”

Alabaster nods and settles down at a table, taking his traveler when it’s finished, waving at Nico as he leaves.

Nico hopes he comes again.

-------

“You’re telling me you fell in love at first sight with a barista, and now you go two cities over every Monday morning just to see him?” Reyna sounds incredulous and when she says it like that, Alabaster can’t help but agree. It does sound ridiculous.

“-And the Coffee!” he rushes to justify. “Not just the Barista, Reyna. The coffee too. There’s a reason it’s called Hidden Gem- And it wasn’t at first sight!” he defends himself.

Reyna scoffs at him as they get out of the car. It’s a rare Friday off and he had insisted they come to this location for coffee. Reyna won’t deny she’s intrigued, and she’s not actually all that bothered. It’s not every day she gets to tease Alabaster C. Torrington about having a crush.

It didn't hurt that and he’d brought her some of their coffee a couple weeks ago. It really was much better than any of the popular chains they had around the office. She can’t help but tease a little more. “So when are you going to actually ask him on a date?”

Alabaster looks at her, a scandalized expression on his face. “Ask him out? While he’s at work??” His tone drips with derision, “ oh yes, that what everyone wants. For some random customer to ask them out on a date while their just working their shift.”

Reyna laughs and elbows him. “I thought you said he was flirting with you .”

Alabaster puffs out one cheek, “I believe I said I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me. And I don’t want to be a creep. Or make him feel uncomfortable. Or ruin everything. What if I can never come back to his place because I fucked it all up?! That would be the absolute worst…” He looks regretful, “I’d have to go back to regular coffee and we both know that would be awful. I’m too pampered now.”

Reyna opens the door to Hidden Gem Café. The place is nice; plenty of space seating with personal touches that make the space welcoming and homey. There’s a mural on the wall next to the seating area she can’t help but admire. It really would be a terrible loss if Alabaster could never come here again.

A man’s voice greets them as they approach the counter, and Reyna can see why Alabaster, their number one union organizer, who has nerves of steel when negotiating with greedy executives, has been acting like a teenager: Dark hair and eyes, muscled forearms, eyeliner and earrings…just Alabaster’s type.  He keeps glancing at her with a subtly perturbed expression, and it takes her a moment to realize- she smirks. That is crestfallen expression someone that thinks we are dating.

She nudges Alabaster, hoping he will take her hint, but he’s too engrossed in chatting with Nico to notice to subtle signs of distress. She’s almost worried Nico will get the wrong idea.

Nico gestures to her, looking at Alabaster with intensity. “Is she you’re girlfriend?”

Alabaster almost chokes on his own saliva as he’s in such a rush to say ‘No’.  “Absolutely. Not.” Alabaster confirms.

Reyna likes straightforward people, and she likes Nico even more for his blunt attitude. That will save them a lot of drama down the road.  “We’re just friends.” She seconds, “And besides, you’re co-worker is more my type anyway.” She smiles winningly at the red-head behind the counter who grins back at her and gestures to Nico and Alabaster with a shrug that communicated “what can you do?”

Reyna moves to the side, waiting at the pickup counter for their coffee order. Rachel approaches with two drinks and hands them to her. “Were you serious about me being your type?” she asks, looking honestly curious, “-because I’m available.”

Alabaster chuckles nervously as Reyna walks away and looks back at Nico who appears relieved. He hopes he isn’t reading too much into that. “Honestly. She’s just a good friend.”

Nico nods, and rings up their order, debating if he should ask… more. It’s been a while since they first met, and Nico always gets butterflies on the days when Alabaster comes in. “You know,” he starts, and decides to barrel on with it, “I get off shift today in an hour … are you free after that? I know a good Italian place that serves a really good lunch menu.” He hears Alabaster audibly take a breath. “Yes!” Alabaster’s voice can be heard very clearly over the background noise of people and music. “ah- I mean. Yes.” He returns to a normal volume, “I would love…that.” He can’t stop grinning from ear to ear. “I would really really like that.”

The End

@them-awesome-rarepairs

[cosmicabsurdism]

I would love to read that rant!

Alright so tl;dr is it all comes down to capitalism, the cyclical nature of consumerism, and the hatred society has towards kids. It also ties into how like,,,, weird adults are with kids shows (my little pony being a perfect example. shit like smile xd and literal cp are so steeped into a fandom of a show meant for kids like,,,, 7 and under that if you are a kid and want to interact with my little pony online its just inaccessible.)

But heres the full rant (under the cut bc this is gonna get long):

So, its well known that like, animation as a genre is seen as only a kids thing. That hasn't always been the case, but its so engrained in society to see it that way it's become a meme to be like "haha anime's for kids. my favorite things to watch with a child is *insert definitely not child appropriate anime*". (I'm gonna come back to this later so bear with me).

Because animation is seen as a kids thing, most adults arent gonna choose to go see the newest animated disney movie unless they have kids. That shows entertainment companies that animated things for kids are gonna be way more profitable than animated things for adults. It doesnt help that most animated things for adults are shitty adult animated cartoons that all seem to be the same dynamics with the ugliest art styles and the same shitty "dark" jokes that go too far to really be jokes and dont understand that you have to really make it clear that its satire or else people will take it at face value.

But I digress.

So the reason that there are so many shitty animated movies are to gain revenue from little kids. But hand drawn animation is hard! It takes a long time and is really easy to get wrong. Also you'd have to pay animators more for their effort and longer hours. CGI animation is easier to do and doesnt take as long, and you dont need as many people working on it.

So you can crank out at least one or two shitty kids cgi animated movies a year and get billions of dollars. But that also puts off most adults without kids from watching it, only incentivizing companies to keep making shitty kids movies.

But how does this relate to adults being weird abt animated kids shows, anime, and animation in general (even the shit thats already for adults).

To prove that its not weird that theyre an adult watching it. Ask most people over like 10 if they like a kids show, you'll probably get a really defensive answer like "yeah i really like gravity falls because of the mystery its really not for kids i think because it has a plot and themes"

And stuff like that means that adults will try to adultify their favorite kids show. Whether it be with smut, or gore, or edgy theories that all the characters are dead, it makes the fanbase only accessible to adults, making adults feel justified in liking it.

That also makes people who make shit like south park, rick and morty, bobs burgers, family guy, etc., see that its profitable to fill an adult show with shitty jokes and terrible art.

And the cycle continues.

[lara635kookie]

Ranking the best The 39 Clues books(First season because the other ones just aren't canon in my mind).

SPOILER ALERT!

If you're a Clue Hunter and is reading this post, when you finish it reblog it and do your ranking of The First Season books(please I need to know I'm not alone on this fandom)(Please someone tell me I didn't get to this fandom too late). Also this is only my opinion. If you think different feel free to share your thoughts(respectly). So let's go:

My Personal Favorites:

10-Beyond The Grave(Book Four written by Jude Watson):

Honestly this book is overall good and I really wanted to go Egypt but that's only in this place because Ian and Natalie don't show up in person, they're only mentioned by Amy and Dan sometimes. It may seem like a stupid reason but Ian and Natalie were the biggest enemies of Amy and Dan, arch-enemies since the two understand themselves by person and their appearances have always been so iconic, the chases, the talks, the fights, the teasing so the fact they weren't in this book just didn't feel right. The Cahills and the Kabras have a lot of chemistry, both as enemies and as much something more(if you get me, lovers cough cough), and the Kabras have been sorely missed in this book(at least by me).

9-The Emperor's Code(Book Eight written by Gordon Korman):

I don't know compared to the other ones, this one just look kinda forgettable. Maybe because Amy and Dan spend a good part of this book apart. But of course the story has its good moments which are when Dan gives an autograph for a girl (D. Cahill is priceless), when Dan tells the Wizards that he is a Madrigal (as we say in Brazil: Iconic, Memorable and Timeless) (Dan was very amazing in this book, if you disagree, disagree in silence) and when Amy saves Ian(aka Love of her life) from falling off Mount Everest.

8-The Viper's Nest(Book Seven written by Peter Lerangis):

I love that one but the other ones are just better. I like the ending with Isabel(and everyone) thinking that the Clue was Diamond and It wasn't. I also like the scenes with Kurt because I wanted Ian to meet him and Kurt make Ian jealous of Amy(don't judge my dreams). Another thing that I really like is the history. I really like studying history and I learnt so much about Shaka Zulu. And was also with that book that I realized that Isabel had arrived to stay and that she would be the Main Villain in the end somehow. Maybe That's another reason why I don't like much The Emperor's Code:Isabel didn't show up and I thought she would appear in all the other books after In Too Deep. Natalie on Storm Warning said that Isabel didn't trust Ian and her to handle the Hunt without Isabel anymore since Russia so that just doesn't make sense. Maybe she didn't appearead to give Cora Wizard the spotlight but anyway let's continue.

7-The Black Circle(Book Five written by Patrick Carman):

I love this one so much. Probably because in this book we see that Ian is also in love with Amy. On Book three he seemed to like her but then he and Natalie let Amy, Dan and Alistair locked on the cave and we only see Amy Side of this story. Her sadness. But we didn't know if Ian was sorry, if he regreted his actions. And when they come back on this book we see Ian still likes Amy and the fandom goes crazy. I mean even if you are a Jamy/Carian shipper or shipps another shipp you probably shipped Amyan before because they were the only promising couple on the series(at least on series one). Back to the book I Love The Holts defeating the Kabras and Amy and Dan doing an Alliance with Hamilton(Dan envying Hamilton for driving a Kamaz will be Forever iconic). Also this book was when I realized Irina wasn't bad. I didn't like her in the other books and I didn't notice much of her but everything changed on this book and I started to love her. * sad sigh * Moving on!

6-The Maze of Bones(Book One written by Rick Riordan):

Uncle Rick(we call him like that on Brazil, in portuguese is Tio Rick) did a really great job on this one. For a series that has several authors writing, the beginning is very important and it is a great responsibility for the first author because those who will write later have to understand what you wanted to convey in the beginning to make a coherent continuation. Rick Riordan did it flawlessly. We can identify ourselves in the characters and we get really connected to the plot, the history, the riddles about Benjamin Franklin and after finishing the book we wanna know more about what happens next. So Rick Riordan absolutely slayed this introduction and no one can tell me otherwise.

5-One False Note(Book Two written by Gordon Korman):

This book is just unforgivable. I love this with all my soul. Probably because It talks about Mozart and his history and I really love arts. Also because the writing of this book is so satisfactory and so well done. I mean I really thought Fidelio Racco was a real person. What I also love about that book is the fact that every character get to shine. Amy and Dan are the Main characters but the appearences of all the other characters are really remarkable so yeah That's it. Deserves this spot on the Top 5 for sure.

4-In Too Deep(Book Six written by Jude Watson):

Going now to the four horsemen of the apocalypse from the best books of The 39 Clues. In Too Deep It's just something so perfect It's inexplicable. Something I don't like much about In Too Deep is that when Isabel was fighting to Irina and Ian and Natalie were watching Natalie was like:Irina is going to get Shoot on the head, That's gonna be so good. Like she wanted Isabel to do this, like she would be disappointed if she didn't, like she was used to seeing this type of thing. Then, In Storm Warning she was soft like:Not blood. It's so repulsive(several authors series problem but the series is good anyway). About that book I love the start, I love the middle, I love the apex and If It wasn't for Irina's death in the end this would probably be even higher than already is. Why Irina, Jude? Also:Why Pony? Why Erasmus? Why McIntyre? Why Alistair? Why Lester? Why Natalie? Why Evan? Why everyone? Why not Jake or Cara? Back to the story Jude Watson is Just a genius for transforming a dream(or a nightmare) in Isabel Kabra and adding her to the book. I don't wanna cry today so I'm just going for the next one.

3-The Sword Thief(Book Three written by Peter Lerangis):

If this book was a part The Plastics of Mean Girls, The Sword Thief would be Karen Smith of The 39 Clues, because let's face it:Amy and Dan were really dumb of accepting an alliance with Alistair and the Kabras. Principally with the Kabras. I mean they already were kinda used to temporary alliances with Alistair but not Ian and Natalie but they should have expected that It would have been bad on the end. I mean yes they needed Ian's coin to open the cave to find the clue but they look so surprised when Ian and Natalie leaves them on the cave and they shouldn't because that was obvious that they were going to betray them in the final. So they should have accepted the alliance but being more distant to the Kabras and preparing themselves in case they try something(which was obvious they would). But at the same time, I'm glad they didn't because AMYAN IS JUST MY ENTIRE LIFE(And even a little bit of Danatalie this book is Just a masterpiece). Just like In Too Deep, I love everything about that book, except the end. And I am a Kpop fan(not the cringe obssessed type) and I really like to study about North and South Korea and their history but South Korea's caves just left me depressed. I'm gonna cry so let's change the subject.

2-Storm Warning(Book Nine written by Linda Sue Park):

I love everything about this book. Literally everything. The start, the middle, the apex and the end. I love this book mainly because Natalie got the spotlight that she deserved. I don't know why I like Natalie so much since the start. Maybe because when I started Reading the books I was eleven, just like her. And Maybe because she was pretty, rich, savage and sassy wich I always wanted to be. But there is something more that I don't know how to explain that is really relatable about Natalie even with my reality being too different from hers and this book was the confirmation I needed that Natalie would be my favorite character Forever. I Also like it because it happened on Bahamas and Jamaica(two places I really want to go in the future) and It got a lot of revelations and twists in the end(wich I love more than everything on a book). If Storm Warning was a person and slapped my face I would probably say:Thanks, Could you do that again?

1-Into The Gauntlet(Book Ten written by Margaret Peterson Haddix):

I usually don't like the endings of books because I'm sad that it's over and as all the other books were good I usually demand a lot from the endings, even more than the beginnings (for me the final impression is the one that stays, not the first). I generally like the endings but I've never looked at a ending book and said: This one overcomes all the other books. I normally like more the start or the middle books. But man Into The Gauntlet caught me off guard. DoD is already a trash ending, comparing to Into The Gauntlet, DoD(fanfiction-forced-canon) seems even worse(if That's even possible). Everything about that book It's just top-notch, high quality, god tier, flawlessly perfect. Stan Haddix. We believe in Into The Gauntlet Supremacy.

It's going to have a part 2. Bye.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

interests tag

i was tagged by @capt-snoozles es and @sheimagineddragons :)

MUSIC

Fave genre?

theatre !!! i listen solely to theatre and cartoon music [i.e. mlp songs, steven uiverse sings, etc...]

Fave artist?

uhhh my favorite musical is aladdin and my 1.5 favorite is a chorus line and my second favorite is come from away if those count haha

Fave song?

always: high adventure from aladdin broadway | idk why, but this song always helps me calm and down and take a breath and ground myself no matter what i’m feeling.

at the moment: safer from the musical first date

Most listened song recently?

nothing left to lose from the tangled series but like... the danish version...

and i listen to chant from hadestown a lot too oops

Song currently stuck in your head?

heroes on fire from kipo and the age of wonderbeasts

5 fave lyrics?

"it’s addictive the minute you let yourself think / the things that i say just might matter to someone” - you matter to me, waitress

"only one dad / only inspiring one son / edward, you’re done / writing your perfect tale / telling the perfect tale / it was a perfect tale” - what’s next, big fish

"but wishes are dreams and dreams are pretend / so science and reason win out in the end / science says you’re dead and gone forever / reason says i’m talking to the air / but something in my heart / some secret hidden part / illogically insists that you are there / somewhere” - if i believed - twisted

"and though the people around me / their mouths are still moving / the words they are forming / cannot reach me anymore / and it is quiet / and i am warm / like i’ve sailed / into the eye of the storm” - quiet, matilda

"i’m the son of poseidon / i never asked to be / but i’m the son of poseidon / now face the tide / inside of me” - son of poseidon, the lightning thief

[bonus] “i love a lilting line of lyrical alliteration / who doesn’t love alliteration?” - i love the way, something rotten

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | louder or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

Fave book genre?

uhhh i don’t think i have a specific genre, but anything that talks about the morality because i love that kind of analysis

Fave writer?

uhhh it changes, but i usually say chris colfer or edgar allen poe

Fave book?

the land of stories, chris colfer / an author’s odyssey, chris colfer

the lost hero, rick riordan [look it’s my favorite one...] 

murder on the orient express, agatha christie

heart of redness, zakes mda

king lear, shakespeare

Fave book series?

the land of stories series by chris colfer :)

Comfort book?

angels at the table - debbie macomber

Perfect book to read on a rainy day?

how to speak dragonese, cressida cowell

Fave characters?

goldilocks / conner bailey, land of stories series

piper mclean, heroes of olympus

camicazi, how to train your dragon series

ron weasley, harry potter series [love ron, not the author tho]

matilda, matilda

5 quotes from your fave book that you know by heart?

"be brave, children. courage is the one thing no one can ever take away from you” - land of stories

"there’s no such thing as im-POSSIBLE, hiccup, only im-PROBABLE. the only thing that limits us are the limits of our imagination” - how to train your dragon

“i like it when somebody gets excited about something. it's nice” - catcher in the rye

“self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting” - henry v

“do you think, because i am poor, obscure, plain, and little, i am soulless and heartless? you think wrong! — i have as much soul as you, — and full as much heart! and if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, i should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you” - jane eyre

“so matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. these books gave matilda a hopeful and comforting message: you are not alone.” - matilda

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

Fave tv/movie genre?

uhh pretty much any cartoon tbh

Fave movie?

the my little pony movie (2017)

the lego ninjago movie (2017)

finding neverland

coraline

Comfort movie?

the my little pony movie (2017) [once watched it six times in one day]

the friendship games

Movie you watch every year?

the my little pony movie (2017) [i watch it once a month over zoom with my internet friend shannon]

Fave tv show?

the hollow

avatar: the last airbender

kipo and the age of wonderbeasts

lego ninjago: masters of spinjitzu

my little pony: friendship is magic

miraculous: tales of ladybug and chat noir

psych

Comfort tv show?

the hollow [specifically s2 ep6, dead end]

Most rewatched tv show?

the hollow

my little pony: friendship is magic

miraculous: tales of ladybug and chat noir

5 fave characters?

sokka sokka sokka sokka sokka, atla

vanessa, the hollow

cole brookestone, ninjago

nino lahiffe, mlb

benson, kipo and the age of wonderbeasts

varrick or bumi ii, legend of korra

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more)* | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes* | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

hehe this took awhile, but this was fun :)))

okay so uhh, imma tag [with no obligations so sorry if you were already tagged], my fellow thespians @bisexuallsokka and @bobisahandsomeskull as well as @leesbian42 and @fixationsbigandsmall

[fuck-it-tim-shepard-time]

How I imagined the cast of The Outsiders (before watching the movie)

Ponyboy: Small, the scrawniest of the bunch. Wild wavy hair that he does NOT know how to keep healthy, but he does know how to make it look tuff. Thoughtful, stormy grey eyes, and a scar on his hand from the cigarette contest with Curly. His voice sounded like crankgameplays (no clue why, it's just how I imagined him sounding)

Sodapop: dark golden, wavy hair that he never puts up, clear blue eyes that look almost childish, perfect teeth. Hes tan and fit,, I imagine him looking a lot like how Rick Riordan pictured Apollo. ONLY wears crop tops he made himself. He sounded like klaus hargreaves (once again, don't know why)

Darry: I imagined him looking a LOT like young Tom Waits ,, (pictured below),, but he sounded more like Jim Gordon from Gotham??

Dally: unwashed, straight platinum blonde hair that went below his shoulders, a scruffy beard and a cruel smile, he had his textbook blue eyes, but I imagined them looking sort of hazy all the time, unless he was really pissed off or upset, then they focussed with a piercing fire,, sounded like christian slater/ JD from the heathers movie

Johnny: I have nothing to add, the movie casted him exactly how I imagined him,,, I also think he has a scar on his lip from his dad whaling on him,, and his hands were always just a little shaky until he killed Bob

Steve: I imagined him as a mixed BIPOC, with a lazy smile and playful eyes that lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. He's the most muscular of the bunch, besides Darry (that almost autocorrected into Daddy, thanks android), and ripped the sleeves off of all his shirts. He sounded a lot like diego hargreaves. (I had an alternate design for him that was literally just season 1 diego,,, but shhh)

Two Bit : Hispanic, dark ginger hair that would curl when it wasn't greased, he has freckles and wears graphic design shirts that he let Steve cut the sleeves off of. Shorter and stockier, the third shortest behind Pony and Johnny. Wears a tan jacket made of a jean-like material that his dad left. It says something about electricians unions on the back, but Two mainly likes it because of the pockets, and the reminder of his dad.

Tim: all the Shepards are hispanic and native american. He's got long, dark, curly hair that's cut into a sort of undercut, but grows faster than he can keep up to cut it, so he mostly just leaves it alone. I imagined his scar going through his lips. The Shepard's all have similar eyes, but each has their own unique vibe. Tims eyes look like what happens when you look up from deep below the ocean during a storm, just as lightening strikes. They're angry and swirling, the storm and the calm all at once.

Curly: Similar to Tim, he's got dark curly hair, but his hair is rarely cut, so it falls in messy ringlets over his face. He's got sharp teeth and a tongue piercing that he thinks Tim doesn't know about. He has a scar that matches Ponyboy's. His eyes are fox-like, like the way the night sky looks during a party that's gotten too wild for even the cops to try and touch.

(Bonus Angela: The only motherfucker in this list that knows how to properly care for her hair. Her hair is CONSTANTLY making even socs turn in envy. She wears vibrant red lipstick, and eyeliner sharper than both her brother's wits. Her eyes are comforting, like the smell of spice and hot chocolate after being out in the cold. A sadness swirls in them, like an anxious beta fish in a tank too small for it to thrive.)

[twh-news]

Miss Minutes voice actress Tara Strong says there's more to Loki's cartoon breakout character

One of the unexpected joys of Loki has been seeing the Time Variance Authority's animated mascot, Miss Minutes, popping in and out of the series with a heady dose of Southern charm. She lays out the purpose of the TVA in the premiere, but goes on to appear to Loki (Tom Hiddleston) in semi-sentient ways as the series moves forward.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe didn’t cast just anyone in the role, they went with a legend. If you throw a rock at IMDb, chances are you’ll hit something that Tara Strong has been in. She’s a DC veteran (Raven on Teen Titans, Harley Quinn in multiple projects, etc.), a Marvel veteran (the animated Guardians of the Galaxy, Avengers Assemble, Marvel Rising, etc.), and has also appeared in Rick & Morty, My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, The Powerpuff Girls, and Family Guy, to name just a few. Perhaps you caught her voicing Sunny in A Series of Unfortunate Events?

SYFY WIRE caught up with Strong before the Loki finale to discuss how her performance as Miss Minutes developed, how much Miss Minutes actually knows, and more.

At what point in the Loki process did you get involved?

The Loki series was completely finished filming by the time I came on board, which was great because I got to watch all the action unfold as I was doing it, as if I were really shooting with them. If I had to go first, it would be much more challenging. To play off Tom Hiddleston was so much fun.

Did they have any ideas on what direction they wanted you to take Miss Minutes, or was it more like, "She's Tara Strong, we're going to stay out of her way?"

When you have an audition for an animated character, they'll give you a drawing of the character, a character bio — something about their world. And the more information I get, the more I can feed that into developing a character. It is a very collaborative process generally by the callback stage. The director, the writer will put in some ideas, and then you come up with the perfect voice for this character. And that was not the case for Loki.

I didn't even know it was for Loki, I didn't know who Miss Minutes was. There wasn't a visual, it was kind of limited information. I just knew they wanted something like a Siri voice but more human. Then they said to play around with an accent, which I got to do. And then, when I started working with Kate [Herron], who has such incredible vision on every single part of this process, we collaborated and came up with this sort of Southern belle that can say horrible things with a smile on her face. And it's such an extraordinary, fun character. It's definitely unique. I've never seen or done anything quite like her.

In the premiere, she gives a whole spiel as to what's going on, or what we think is going on. We've now found out that most of that is not necessarily true. Is she aware of that and is faking it, or is she as clueless as everyone else?

I think that's a great question, and I think there's more to be revealed about how much she really knows, and obviously, you'll have to wait for the finale. But that's a great question because even in the audition, I was like, "Is she sentient? Is she this?" And along with the Marvel imagination of how it all works, a lot of that is still to be discovered. And looking at it, it's very easy to say, "Oh, maybe she's the ultimate being behind all this," or "Maybe she knows more about this," but it's really a play-as-you-go kind of thing. But she's certainly more knowledgeable than in the first episode, she seems to be a lot more sentient than in the first episode. In the first episode, you think it's just a video, and then of course she comes to life and hangs out on Tom's desk. So [there's] more to be revealed as she goes, for sure.

Because she's been such a hit with fans do you think there's a life for Miss Minutes outside of this series?

Of course, Miss Minutes definitely needs her own series! I am so excited to see all the fans cosplaying her at cons. There's already been some incredible art. I'm so grateful that the fans have fallen in love with her, and they did before the show even aired. There were a bunch of videos made with the trailer and people saying, "That's Tara Strong, that's Tara Strong." And you never know with an animated character that's part of such a huge franchise. Or even in something on camera, you don't know how the fans are going to respond. So I can't say how grateful I am that the fans love her and have warmed up to her. She's rapidly become one of my favorite characters I've ever done.

She would get along really well with Mr. D.N.A. from Jurassic Park.

Everybody talks about that online, and some artists, forgive me for not knowing [their names], did a really cute picture of the two of us together as a couple or something. People made that comparison pretty quickly.

If you had your choice for her to be involved in any of the many upcoming MCU projects, is there any particular one that you'd really love to be a part of?

That's a good question. I mean, anything in the MCU, it's such an honor to be a part of it. I've been in the animated world for so long, but to join this cinematic universe is just incredible. And I think she's the kind of character that could maybe now she's working for this person or that person, and she could change, and morph, and her whole character dynamic could go into a million different directions. I mean, sky's the limit for Miss Minutes, so it'd be fun to see her alongside other heroes, or villains, or whatever people perceive them to be.

In terms of your entire body of work, which is enormous at this point, you've already done several Marvel animated projects, and DC, you name it. This is probably an impossible question, but Miss Minutes aside, is there another character that stands out as being very special to you?

You know, there's so many. I always say that my favorite job I ever did was The Little Mermaid II, because I was such a big fan of the original and I used to run around impersonating her. So to get in the studio and sing with Jodi Benson, and then they drew my face and animated her onto this mermaid. So that was a very, very special time in my life. But I don't know what horseshoe I was born under, but to get to play Harley and Batgirl... Batgirl I worked alongside Mark Hamill and Kevin Conroy. The Powerpuff Girls was so fun, The Fairly OddParents was so fun. And Raven, she's so important, she's just saved so many lives. When I meet kids at cons, they say, "Raven got me through my parents' divorce or depression," or, "I thought I was alone till I met her." I just feel very blessed to have been a conduit for these characters, to bring them to people. And I take that responsibility pretty seriously. I love meeting fans at cons and interacting with them on social. It's really beautiful.

[piccolina-mina]

Betting on Love

Fandom: Roswell, New Mexico

Pairing: Maria DeLuca & Michael Guerin

Inspo: CandyMilkshakes2019

Words: 5K (Yikes!)

A/N: A little late to the party, but it’s … something. A little humble offering to another lovely event. As usual, it’s a freestyle. Enjoy, or not. It’s OK either way. :)

~~~~

It started as a joke.

At least, it was for her. He wasn’t sure if he ever meant it jokingly, or if it was the best way to give voice to a deeper yearning he was afraid to face.

They had a certain vibe – had cultivated it over the years without even thinking about it, so other patrons were bound to take notice.

One-eyed Rick, who ironically had two perfectly good eyes, casually referred to them as an old married couple somewhere between her bitching about the bottle of whiskey he stole and him sweating profusely while fixing the barkeep sink.

He didn’t even remember agreeing to do it. It happened, much like most situations with DeLuca.

“You’re worse than my ol’ man ‘n his lady,” Rick slurred. “Married 35 years 'n,” he hiccuped. “Still won’ stop bickerin’” he drank the last of his shot and slapped his hand on the bar with a raucous laugh. “Won’t stop fuc–”

“It’s been real, Rick,” Maria interrupted him. “Pony up,” she held out the lockbox and waited for him to drop his keys inside.

“Rusty,” she called out to her middle-aged employee with a weathered face. He was hard and scary looking from the outside, and he did a bid, but he was a total Teddy bear. “Round 'em up.”

She didn’t have to say last-call for the stragglers to know it was a wrap. Those too intoxicated to drive, dropped their keys in the dropbox and filed in line outside of Rusty’s clunky old van for dropoff.

“C'mon, what’s one more drink, Ma” He emphasized the endearment knowing it would drive her nuts.

He thought he got away with it when he heard her locking the doors. He should have known better.

He was deep into tampering with a pipe when Maria loomed over him. Her shadow blocked the little light he had, and the point of her cowgirl boot was dangerously close to his boys.

“You about done with that, Pa?” Her voice was syrupy sweet when he ducked his head out to steal a look at her.

She was standing over him. He had the perfect view of her midriff as she looked down on him unimpressed.

She squatted down to get a better look at what he was doing. He thought it was unintentional on her part – her encroaching in on his personal space, her legs brushing against his, foot still planted firmly near his crotch and bust close enough to his face where he could see the pendant he fixed for her peeking from beneath her shirt.

“How long is it going to take?” She asked. His lack of response got her attention. She stared him dead in the eyes. “Focus!”

“I am,” he replied, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as his eyes darted from her chest to her eyes inconspicuously.

“On the pipe, Guerin,” she was exasperated, but he could tell by the slight upward curve of her lip that she was trying not to smile.

“Oh, I am,” he quipped flashing her a lascivious grin.

“Not that pipe,” she ground out shaking her head. She flashed a light under the sink without him needing to ask.

He would hold his hand out confident that she would press the right tool in his palm, and she always did. Yeah, they bickered, but they also made a hell of a team, and maybe that was what Rick was referring to.

He didn’t realize he slipped into a quiet state until he blinked and realized they were in the town square. They had walked from the Wild Pony through town in silence, and only when he looked at Maria did he notice the furrow between her brow.

“You gonna spit it out, Guerin? Not that I don’t mind when that mouth of yours isn’t moving, but–”

“Oh, you love it when my mouth is moving,” he snapped back. He rocked back on his feet, dazzled by how the moonlight hit her hair. “As I recall, you love it a lot.”

Her eyes flickered to his lips as if she was imagining just what they could do to her. She shook her head discreetly, stared at him with unfocused eyes, and he winked at her.

“Asshole,” she muttered.

“If you’re offering -” he started. Damn, he loved to goad her. She always played along, kept him sharp, and surprised him.

He took off his hat, made a sweeping gesture until she sat down on a bench in front of the fountain, and he plopped down next to her.

He threw his arm along the back of the bench and relished the warmth of her. To his enjoyment, she settled into him, rested her face lightly against his worn leather jacket and sighed.

“I’m still waiting, Guerin,” she prodded, poking him in the side. “You can’t distract me for shit you know?”

Part of him wanted to tease that he knew how to distract her well, but she was tired and despite a false air of indifference, she cared about him.

He never knew what to do with that – how to process someone caring about him when they weren’t required to.

“You ever think about marriage, 'Luc?” He held his breath. Maria was easy to be vulnerable with, easier than he cared for, but it was ingrained in him to be anything but.

He always felt like he was overriding his code, but it was simply the effect she had on him.

She snorted, but one look at his face and she saw past his fake smirk and knew he was serious. She blinked.

“I don’t need marriage,” she replied after a while. She shrugged but tugged at the chain to her necklace deep in thought.

“I didn’t ask if you needed marriage, DeLuca." He leaned in close, holding her eyes with his, watched the way she swallowed unnerved. "I asked if you wanted marriage.”

“Ha,” she blew out. She went for light again. “Whoever bends a knee to me requires a hell of a lot of luck.”

“I never much believed in luck anyway,” he raised his brow suggestively, and she rolled her eyes.

“And what prompted this, Guerin? You thinking about being the ball to someone’s chain?”

He slumped into the bench and rested his head on the back of it. He looked up at the stars, a mystery that eluded him as he continued to try and fail to find his way home, wherever the hell that was.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for marriage,” he sighed. And he didn’t. Marriage meant he belonged to someone, that someone would want to be tied to him – not abandon him.

“I didn’t ask if you were cut out for marriage, Guerin,” she shot back.

He could feel her gaze burning hot into the side of his face, but he wouldn’t succumb to her silently beckoning him.

“The DeLuca women, we don’t really get married. It’s nothing official, no reason behind it that I know of, but it just … is,” her voice was smaller than he was used to, and his eyes darted to her, but she was staring into the fountain fiddling with a coin as an errant distraction.

“I used to think about it when I was a young girl. I can sit here and pretend I was above all that, but everyone wants to be loved and cherished,” she sounded wistful, vulnerable even.

“I’m not going to act like the idea of someone special pledging their love for me in front of people who matter didn’t appeal to me, you know?

"The institution of marriage is a bit antiquated, but it’s a promise. And promises matter…” her voice trailed off. “I used to think about it. Twirling around in Mimi’s favorite dress. Wearing my favorite boots. Throwing a shindig at the Wild Pony, nothing big, but everyone’s welcome…” she shrugged.

“Dancing with Mimi and laughing, some lucky bastard putting up with me, knowing me, loving me out loud – yeah, it has an appeal. Marriage is eternal friendship– it’s family, and family… matters,” she threw her coin into the fountain and searched his face.

He couldn’t speak, not at first. Not when she shared that same sentiment that sometimes left him longing for something he never suspected was in the cards for him.

“Marriage means family,” he agreed. “Never had much of one, so I doubt I could pull off the other,” he stared at her, opting to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t help his mischievous streak from getting the better of him. “But I could pull it off better than you.”

“You!” She laughed so hard she clutched her stomach. If he was being honest with himself, it cut him a bit.

“You say that like you aren’t a commitmentphobe too,” he narrowed his eyes at her daring her to contest. “Do we need to revisit the Chad fiasco?”

“We agreed to never speak of Chad,” she shuddered.

“All I’m saying is if he popped the question, you would have gone running, better yet, you would’ve sent him scampering away with his tail between his legs.

He watched her open her mouth to argue, but deep down she probably knew she couldn’t. "You would bail out of a commitment before I would. That’s just a fact,” she sputtered.

“You’re on, Deluca,” he leaned in close until his lips were touching the shell of her ear. “You’re on.”

The panic across her face thrilled him. But she also wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, even if she didn’t know exactly what the challenge was.

It started as a joke and grew into a bet. He wasn’t used to betting on anything good happening in his life. But there were firsts for everything.

—

When Maria performed, he got lost. It was a sight to behold, and he was convinced some stragglers hung around the Wild Pony long enough to watch her light up the stage.

She performed like it was her calling – the stage her pulpit and music was her religion. He often felt this unspeakable blend of pride, elation, and melancholy.

Because Maria was destined for greater things that weren’t slinging drinks at a grubby pub and hustling racists for cash.

She belonged to the music. And maybe they were both wrong. Maybe she belonged to something after all. Music was the only thing that deserved her.

She jumped off the stage buzzing and still riding high like she performed at Madison Square Garden and not some offbeat path in Roswell.

He only intended to pop in to hear her sing. He swore it to himself since she banned him last week, and he was on a two-week suspension.

He couldn’t escape quick enough though. His hat gave him away, but he was starting to think she was attuned to him. Like her body was wired to pick him out of a crowd like a bad habit. Like she could sense his specific presence the way he could with hers.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Guerin,” she sounded only slightly exasperated, but she probably suspected he would violate the rules at some point.

He was taken by her soft sheen of sweat from the stage lights, the sparkle on her skin from glitter lotion. Her eyeliner made her eyes more alluring than usual, her deep violet lipstick made her full lips more inviting.

He was effectively tongue-tied.

“And miss you performing, DeLuca? It’s cute how you thought that was going to happen.

He bit his lip and she looked away nodded and smiled at the accolades she was showered with. Her eyes shone bright both humbled and proud of the praise she received.

"Yeah, well,” she grabbed the bottle out of his hand, threw it back like the best of him, her throat working in ways that gave him sinful ideas. “No alcohol then.”

He was grateful he hadn’t dosed his drink with acetone yet, but part of him anticipated something like this if she found him. “I was breaking up the riff-raff! If anything, that deserves a drink,” he reasoned.

He loved taking up her time. It was selfish, but the longer they went at it, she was giving him most of her time. Time was valuable for Maria, so he felt valuable when she gave some to him.

He loved the verbal sparring with her. It seemed ridiculous to other people, but he could do it… forever.

“You are the riff-raff,” she countered. He could barely hear a “what am I going to do with you,” muttered under her breath when he opted to put on a show.

“You can forgive me,” he grabbed her hands, fell to his knee and set the bottle down on the floor beside him.

“C'mon darlin’, you can’t be pissed at me for long,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she stared down at him feigning annoyance.

“Guerin, what the fuck are you doing?”

He pulled his hat off his head and held it over his heart. “Practicing,” he teased.

“Fine,” she relented, eyeballing the latest hire overpouring at the bar. “Two drinks tonight including the one I just drank, but you’re still banned until next week. Now,” she went to tug her hands out of his. “I have shit to do.”

He would have left things there, but he was having too much fun.

“One more thing,” he said louder than usual, enough to gain attention from those surrounding them.

“One more thing,” she mimicked. “Wha…” her voice trailed off. “You said 'practice,’” she replayed their conversation. “Guerin …” she warned reading the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Maria DeLuca,” he started getting way too pumped by the way her eyes narrowed at him. “Please,” the genuine sincerity came through as he stared at her all beautiful and spirited and got distracted. “Please, let me marry you?”

He ignored the hooting and hollering around them and only focused on the shock on her face. He tilted his head, letting her know the ball was in her court.

Her shock turned into irritation and then challenge.

Yet, he expected a knee to the chest or a verbal smackdown that left him equal parts vulnerable and turned on. He expected a win.

He was not expecting her to lean in close and mutter, “Nice try, Guerin,” against his lips as she kissed him followed by a loud, “Hell yeah!”

“No ring,” she asked innocently.

He was still a bit shell-shocked, and she knew it too based on the way she was smirking at him, but her smirk softened to an amused smile when he pulled out a ring pop.

He got it as a gag to toy with her later. Snatched it out the candy jar used to distract the kids while he worked on cars.

He shoved the little plastic ring on her finger deliberate and slow, then raised her knuckle to his lips and sucked the bulbous confectionery piece. “Sweet and tart just like you.”

She popped it in her mouth and savored the flavor. “Mmm. Watermelon.”

She brushed past him, her lips coming to his ear, breath warm against him and making him shudder. “The ring was a nice touch, even though it’ll only last until the end of the night.”

She nibbled his ear playfully and smacked him on the ass. When she sashayed away only looking back to suck her ring pop and wink at him, all he could do was chuckle. Challenge accepted.

—

“Is there a reason you called me over here,” he could barely hear her over the blowtorch he was using, but he ignored her all the same.

To his bemusement, it gave her the perfect opportunity to check him out when she thought he wasn’t looking.

He could feel her gaze raking across his jeans slung low off of his hips. The dark tank top hugged his torso, she scanned his arms as he went to work on the metal piece he was working on.

When he had enough of giving her a show he flipped his mask up and shut off the blow torch.

She did her best to appear annoyed, but the way her tongue peeked out and she looked flustered, he could tell she was anything but.

“I got your text, babe,” she emphasized. “Is there a reason you called me here? I have errands to run.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” he approached her slowly, stopped, and before thinking about it, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He could never figure out what it was about her, the way she pulled him into her orbit and held him there.

She stalled, taken aback by the affectionate gesture, but it made her smile, which in turn made him smile.

“I have something for you,” he said, his voice husky.

He stared down at her, watched as her chest rose and fell and their proximity affected her, but she wasn’t going to be the one to back away and neither was he.

“I’m waiting,” she said breathlessly. When she shook her head and cleared her throat, all he could do was laugh.

He dug into his back pocket and pulled it out. He grabbed her hand, which she snatched away warily until he grabbed it again his brow raised.

When she relented, he slid the ring on her finger. His hands shook, but they both pretended not to notice, and he took a long moment before he could lift his eyes to meet hers.

Bet or not, he put himself out there with the ring he made out of scrap metal, bits of silver and copper twisted into something beautiful, intricate, and strong, just like her.

If she didn’t like it, it would crush him. He realized that the second his shaky hands slid it onto her finger. It was a perfect fit.

“Michael,” she gasped. Her mouth was ajar, eyes wide, and she was speechless. He rendered her speechless.

His first name on her lips sent a jolt through him.

“Guerin,” she corrected, his surname soft on her lips. “You–”

“Made it,” he supplied, swelling with pride.

“For me?” She asked disbelievingly. Her eyes shimmered, but he couldn’t tell if it was the sun or her getting emotional.

“It’s…” she traced the intricate swirls with her finger. “It’s beautiful. She rested on the stone in the center, something unusual to her. "This stone,” she tapped it. “I’ve never seen it before.”

He looked away. “It’s something from home,” he said coyly.

Her forehead creased, but before she could inquire, he gave her his trademark smirk. “My future wife deserved something more permanent than a ring pop, right?”

“You –” she started, but he flipped his mask back down and turned on his blow torch.

“Got work to do,” he called from beneath the mask, smacking her backside as she did to him before. He went back to work, but he couldn’t help but notice her sitting in the truck staring at her ring in surprise. He chuckled to himself.

—

She wore the ring for weeks. It both excited him and surprised him.

She kept it right on the ring finger of her left hand too, like, like it was real for her, and she didn’t mind the world knowing that they were engaged, sort of.

She did the most to. Waltzed into the old junkyard and had folks fixing her car on his dime. She said she got the family discount.

“Were you ever going to tell me you got engaged or was I just supposed to find out from Liz,” Max asked.

He slid into the barstool next to Michael, and his expression was priceless. Maybe he should have told Max when it happened just to see his brother lose his mind. Isobel probably threw a hissy fit.

“She told Liz?” He couldn’t hide his shock, which in turn confused Max.

“That’s what normal people do, yeah,” Max studied him, and he could feel his brother probing for something.

“When have any of us ever been normal?”

“Michael,” Max began, his voice edging towards concern. “If you’re playing Maria–”

“I’m not,” he protested. “It’s not like that, Max. Lay off,” he could count on his hands the number of times they both spent at the Wild Pony together, and he preferred it that way. Max could be a buzzkill.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but if you hurt her, Michael, I swear I’ll–”

“What? Electrocute me?” He shot back.

It shouldn’t have surprised him that Max was under Maria’s spell too. People loved her. She was hard not to–

He took a swig of his drink and watched her pour someone a whiskey.

“I would never hurt her,” he said firmly. The truth was she could destroy him a thousand times over. In some ways, she already had.

“Three weeks, Mikey,” Liz swooped in with a container of fries in her hand.

He levitated one toward him when he felt no one was looking and ignored Max’s scowl and Liz’s frown.

“Three weeks until what?” He took another long pull of his beer.

“You know, honey,” Maria appeared in front of them as if she had been summoned. “Until our wedding,” she smiled sweetly.

He choked on his beer.

“You OK, babe?” She leaned across the counter giving a full view of her cleavage while she whacked him on the back.

“Perfect, darlin’,” he rasped. “Three weeks is too far away."

They stared each other down ignoring their friends’ puzzled expressions.

"This seems like a competition more than an engagement,” Max muttered.

“Or foreplay,” Liz added.

—

Signing the marriage license was a standoff of its own.

They drove to the clerk’s office together. They sat in the parking lot waiting to see if one of them would suddenly back out, but it never happened.

He signed first, and then he stared her down with a grin, but her swirly script joined his chicken-scratch in no time.

“I’m not changing my name,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Good. Because I like your name,” he tapped the steering wheel and tried to expel his nervous energy. “In fact, I think I’ll take it.”

He kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel hers boring into the side of his face.

“You … want to take my name?” Her voice was even not giving anything away, which made him more nervous.

He didn’t realize the extent of his tapping until her hand – engagement ring too – rested over his stilling him.

He tried to fight it off, but the warm gesture had him spilling his thoughts and internally kicking himself for being so vulnerable.

“I never had a name that mattered,” he sounded guarded even to his own ears. “I never had a choice in it.

"The system named me, and I had the last name of the piece of shit who took me in for the paycheck. He was no one I wanted to be linked to or aspired to be like,” he shrugged.

Maria’s fingers entwined with his, but his eyes never left the road.

“My name never felt mine. Nothing has ever felt like it was m–” he blew his breath. “DeLuca. It means something. Strong. Honest. Brave. Integrity and Compassion. It’s the name of two of the best people I know.”

DeLuca made him think of what home was supposed to feel like.

“It is something to aspire to,” he finished.

Maria was silent for a while, and his mind raced with something to relieve the heaviness and make him feel less exposed.

“Michael Deluca,” Maria said quietly. She squeezed his hand. “I kinda like it.”

—-

“You still got time to bail, asshole.”

It was just like Maria to taunt him moments before the wedding. They spent weeks laying on the pressure and waiting for the other to cave.

Neither of them ever did.

There was still time though, but the thought of Maria backing out this close to the deed would send him spiraling.

He didn’t realize how much until he was standing there in a black dress shirt with Max adjusting his tie. He hated ties.

If he ever doubted the love the community had for Maria, it was put to rest with the display at the Wild Pony.

Fairy lights twinkled everywhere. The two ladies at the boutique did most of the decorating. Arturo provided most of the food. He recognized the man who baked the wedding cake – an elaborate colorful display that was quintessentially Maria – as someone who used to attend Ranchero night years ago.

There were desert flowers and succulents everywhere. And a small gathering of locals, the woman who organized the food market in the square, and the staff at the Pony. Kyle Valenti was handling the music, and to his surprise, Sheriff Valenti was officiating.

Somewhere between taking a hit of acetone and feeling Max’s hand press against his back as he stood at the altar, he realized he wasn’t nervous about marrying Maria. He was nervous about not marrying her.

When the music played, his heart stopped, but when he caught his first glimpse of Maria being led down the aisle, appearing more nervous than he ever saw her before, he thought his heart would beat out of his chest.

He removed his hat as she approached, stunned into silence and not a snarky quip to be made.

She was a vision in an eggshell dress, all lace, and form-fitting, falling to her knees and flaring out. He knew it was Mimi’s the moment he saw it, from the style to how emotional Maria was because she was wearing it.

Her hair was done up and held together by an elaborate hairpiece, and tiny jewels reminiscent of the fairy lights were woven throughout it.

She still wore her trademark pendant. Bangles that belonged to the Ortecho sisters, and a pair of her favorite cowgirl boots.

He was breathless because she was breathtaking. He could distantly hear Max sniffling behind him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Mimi hugged her daughter tight and kissed both cheeks and then turned to Michael and enveloped him too.

“You were always such a good boy,” she whispered warmly in his ear. “You’re always home here,” she cupped his face and pulled him down so she could kiss his cheeks.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he sniffled back a dam and turned his attention back to Maria.

He grabbed her face and cupped her neck, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he pressed his lips to hers.

She pulled away dazed as Valenti cleared her throat.

“We’re doing this?” Maria breathed. The reality hitting her.

“I guess so,” he grinned. He stared at her lips and eyes, and he smiled wildly.

“It’s a draw, Guer,” her mouth worked to find more words, but she was at a loss. “Neither of us lost.”

“No,” he brushed his hands down her arms. “We certainly didn’t lose.”

“But neither of us won,” she started again.

“I would beg to fucking differ,” he breathed. His eyes welled up again, and he only wished he could blame it solely on Max.

“So what does this mean?” She whispered. “What do we get?”

He stared at her, his eyes searching hers as he leaned in and sucked her lower lip between his. “Each other, Maria. We get each other.”

She was surprised when he announced he had written his vows. It meant he had anticipated declaring them. The napkin he dug out his pocket was damp, and the ink ran.

“Fuck it,” he proclaimed amidst chuckles. He steadied himself, his eyes locked on hers. “There’s something about you that keeps me coming back again,” he started.

He struggled to put his feelings into words. “You chose me. People don’t usually choose me. They get stuck with me, but you always did. You always do. You never walk away,” he said with wonder. “No matter how hard I push, you’re always… there.

"You challenge me, and you call me out on my bullshit, and you make me want to be a better person. You make me feel normal, and comfortable and … home,” he didn’t care if he was in front of other people.

At that moment, all he cared about was being the most honest with Maria he had ever been. He bared his soul like she was the only one in the room, and brushed every tear of hers that threatened to fall as it continued to hit her how real not only their wedding was but his feelings for her.

And then, in a moment he would never forget, she returned the favor in kind. “You always show up for me,” she whispered.

“It’s like you just know, how, when … you take care of me in ways I didn’t think I needed – I didn’t think I was owed.

"And the truth is, I don’t need it. I could do without. I have done without, but I wanted it. It’s okay to want that – this, you. I want you.”

Maria lost it again when he pulled out their wedding bands and she realized he made those out of scrap metal too.

He barely heard the words when Valenti pronounced them as husband and wife, but he did here Mrs. and Mr. DeLuca and thought he would spontaneously combust from joy, from the honor.

He grabbed her face again, kissed her senseless, dipped her back, and kissed her more.

He held her hand as they jumped over an ornate broom.

He felt back pats and handshakes, hugs and kisses, but all he saw was Maria.

Marriage meant family. It meant someone thought he was worthy enough to be tied to them. It meant he belonged to someone – he mattered to someone.

He spent most of life searching for that, and as he watched his new wife laughing, dancing, happier than he had ever seen her – as he was happier than he had ever allowed himself to be before, he realized he finally found it.

                                                  ~fin~

[andagii-writes]

Oracle Calling

Hydrate me with a Ko-Fi!

Summary

(inspired by Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series, as well as Supergiant Games’s Hades)

Miss Levinia is the master of The Oracle Winery, a quaint yet historic operation nestled in Napa Valley for the last couple centuries. Her day staff tends to the mortal patrons, but at night, the tasting room transitions into a haven for displaced demigods, Levinia their overseer and protector, "Switzerland," by some accounts. What begins as an uncharacteristically quiet evening quickly evolves into a night of revelation, when a specter from her past crosses her threshold. (7,501 words)

Cross-posted on AO3 and WordPress.com

Glossed lips pursed in a frown, and with deliberate severity in her gaze, tall, dark Miss Levinia stood, arms crossed, behind the bar of her winery’s tasting room. Only a faint hum pervaded The Oracle Winery, as though the evening had forgotten its role in Levinia’s routine, as well as an earlier camaraderie.

But rather than making herself maudlin by recalling those regulars—twin brats of Hades and their snuffling, oversized Cerberus pups—Levinia turned her attention to administrative catch-up. With no one barging in for asylum or medical attention for the half-divine, or even for a drink, she at least had the perfect amount of peace to attend to the tasting room’s inventory. Clipboard in hand, she wove between the wicker lounge chairs and glass-top tables, pen scratching notes on a log sheet. Wheat crackers and cheeses for the main bar. More bottles of riesling and moscato for the refrigerator at the secondary dessert bar. Prepare the menus for the upcoming seasons. Oh, and inventory the grocery bags the twins had left at the end of the main bar.

The twins had, for the first time, asked about the otherworldly fare they brought for her in those bags. What exactly did she brew with the stuff?

“You’d have to drink them to know,” Levinia had responded. “But you might find yourselves on an express ferry back to your lord father if you did.”

They asked no more and finished their drinks on their way out.

Without paying, yet again.

Shoulders heaving in a deep sigh, Levinia set aside her clipboard and unrolled the long receipt detailing the twins’ tab, readying herself for the weekly recalculations. Pen rocking between two fingers, she punched numbers on her phone’s calculator while her mind added more to the to-do list. Check the stock on the venom and hallucinogenic brews. Re-apply poison to the knives hidden under the bar top. Regular protective maintenance, though she avoided altercations whenever possible. After all, unlike most of Levinia’s patrons, The Oracle afforded her a boring life of stability and routine. The day staff, a rotating roster of demigods, maintained the vineyards, the cellars, and the tasting room, while Levinia oversaw the operation at night, when she donned her waistcoat and customer service smile, and presided over what the brats called their personal Switzerland.

Though she appreciated the mystique and respect, even ancient Miss Levinia saw distress in the face of constant monotony. She enjoyed her stability, yet the quiet made her reminisce, made her memory clear away the fog over her childhood, made her consider the stars outside as she once considered the stars above the ocean spray of her old home.

Home? She scoffed at herself. The Oracle was home. She’d made this place her home. Even halfway across the world in this foreign wine country, history ensconced her, in a petrified forest further up north, neat rows of grapevines at her flanks, and splendid wineries for miles in either direction, each lot boasting more history and grandeur than the last. Among the pueblo-style bungalows, stone castles, and even a mountaintop vineyard that required an airborne cable car for access, The Oracle Winery stood proud yet modest, little more than a glorified cottage.

Levinia, sighing, rolled her shoulders. With the tasting room’s mood lights dimmed to gentle amber flares, The Oracle needed a distraction as well, lest it fell into a fitful doze with her. Music, she thought, would lift the spirits of the place. She added that note—'hire nightly entertainment’—to her list, since she, unfortunately, never inherited her father’s knack for revelry.

As she started her calculations again, a breeze swept outside, disturbing the ivy leaves and grapevines to a gentle rustle. A visitor had arrived.

Levinia re-rolled the twins’ tab and nestled it against her register. Whatever came through her doors deserved her cordial welcome as thanks for the break in the evening. Tugging her waistcoat straight, she drew back and fastened the curlicue waves of her hair with golden ivy pins: mementos, Mother once claimed, of Father.

The doors opened. Levinia curled her lip in her customary slight smile. She started, “Welcome,” then choked in surprise. As she stared wide-eyed at the silhouette on her doorstep, her smile hardened into wariness.

She knew that broad shadow. She remembered that height.

‘No,’ she told herself, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know. That’s not—My mind’s just playing tricks.’ Just a specter from her memories. Reminiscing had never been good for her. She sucked in a sharp breath and loosened her clenched hands. What an embarrassing mistake to make of a likely regular patron. Or an enemy. ‘Come on,’ Levinia scolded herself. ‘You’re working now.’

Even while eyeing her customer, Levinia kept her tone civil. “Welcome to The Oracle Winery,” she said again, then gestured to the bar stools. “’Tis the tasting room. Have a seat; tell me what you need.”

The man stooped to clear the threshold and said nothing as he closed the door behind him. Levinia curled her lip in slight offense, but swallowed her snap. After all, most of The Oracle’s first-time patrons kept to themselves, usually out of sharp distrust. The same probably held for this man. Curled hair sprung in stray sprigs from under his hood, some shade of dark color muddied by the amber lights. His shoulders filled out the corners of his thick jacket, zipped all the way up. Despite the suffocating choice, a strange gracefulness helped the man to navigate his long legs as he turned about, apparently investigating every possible corner of The Oracle.

Levinia lowered her hand to an alcove under her counter, brushing her fingers along the handles of her hidden knives. Why survey the space so? Looking for surveillance or a way out?  Yet, strangely, no sign of intimidation came off his height or hooded visage. No anticipation prickled in his silence. Rather, Levinia thought as she drew her hand back, a welcoming gentleness surrounded him.

Which made Levinia offer her hand instead. “Shall I take your coat?”

He shook his head, electing instead to partially unzip his jacket. After a hesitant moment, hands firmly balled in his pockets, he finally spoke. “You’re not asking who I am?”

He used a gruff tone to mask his voice, but its familiarity echoed in Levinia’s ears. She choked down the knot tangling in her chest and replied, “You can tell me if you want, but I won’t ask or tell. That goes for anyone visiting at this time.”

“Say I tell you, and you realize you’d rather throw me out. Would you do so?”

Levinia grimaced at the poorly-veiled sentiment. “I can’t break my own rules, now can I? Just don’t make any trouble for me.” She held her breath, as the man slid into one of the barstools before her. “So, what can I get you tonight?”

“Just a glass,” he sighed, shoulders relaxing. “A black, if you please.”

She considered the hooded man, his head low. “A ‘black’ wine at The Oracle,” she murmured, hands on her hips, “is considered divine fare. So don’t disrespect me. Take your hood off.”

The man flinched and threw a glance over his shoulder, the motion freeing another curling lock of dark hair from his hood. “You speak so fearlessly,” he said, a chuckle lacing his voice. “Like a goddess of protection. Or a mother. Have you become one since I last saw you?”

He had dropped his gruff tone as well, opting for a natural mellow accent, one Levinia occasionally heard in her faded recollections of Father’s bedtime stories. He used to talk about foreign lands, waters, and adventures.

“I only ask,” the man hurriedly added, likely in response to Levinia’s lips pursing into a thin line, “since there was no one back home to tell me what had happened to you.”

“And just how long ago did you visit those ruins?” While she had stopped herself from spitting, a dangerous edge sharpened her voice. “And no, I’m neither goddess or mother, heaven forbid me. All I do is make and maintain the rules of my house, so again, no trouble past those doors.”

He folded his hands over the countertop, still refusing to meet Levinia’s eye. “I remember that. Your mother had a similar rule.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Stomach roiling, Levinia covered her face and counted each long second of her breath. “Just take your damn hood off, Father.”

“I—I believe you have me mistaken.”

“Let’s not play this game. You might as well be standing before me in full regalia. Where’s your wand? Your chariot? Your attendants? What happened to excelling at disguise?”

“To protect the mortal eye, yes. But you, your mother…” He finally, sheepishly, shed his hood. The rest of his curled hair, some tied back in a half-pony, cascaded over his shoulders. “Your mother had a sharp, fearless eye. You’ve clearly inherited that.”

Levinia’s stomach, which had coiled backwards, now pitched forward, as she let the specter’s words and visage sink in. She remembered that voice. That face. She hated that she’d seen through him so quickly.

Mother called him Daeon. And he hadn’t changed, even after hundreds upon thousands of years. Levinia’s lord father Dionysus, despite his languid, unshaven features, still held traces of the young father who once cradled Levinia among the vineyards. No disguise could hide the gravitas of his divinity.

Remembrance stung in Levinia’s eyes, as she ground her palm into one. She’d prepared for everything—riots, medical emergencies, death threats, ichor hunters—but not her own father’s return. Why did this have to be her distraction for the evening?

Daeon went on, his voice wavering. “Levinia,” he said, “you’ve grown so much.”

“Time does that to a little girl,” she snapped, squaring her shoulders. “You missed Mother’s deathbed.”

“I swear to you,” he said, “Hades was to notify me as soon as she arrived at Elysium, but, nothing. I even made the journey below; I was ready to bring her back.

“But she wasn’t there. You sent her off correctly, didn’t you? An obol under the tongue?”

“Even if I hadn’t, the old attendants would have made sure of it,” Levinia spat. She laid her palms flat against the countertop and counted the seconds of her breath. In, slowly. Then out. “So let’s face the truth, shall we? You were too afraid to watch her go.”

“Not true. I knew where she was headed.”

“Then why? How hard could it have been? We lived on Olympus’s doorstep! Just a few steps outside, Father, and you could have seen Mother off yourself!”

Mother, who, after Father had disappeared that distant morning, waited upon the balcony every night and stared across the sea. She wistfully called it “The Promised Spot.” Yet that soft longing eventually hardened into bitter anger, solid until her final breaths when she begged Levinia to look after the family’s treasures.

The memories prickled into fury. Levinia stepped back from the bar top. Heaved another deep breath. Her staff called her tough, but, she reminded herself, the master of The Oracle Winery operated with far more finesse and impersonality regardless of the customer she faced. She straightened her back and cleared her throat. “Pardon me,” she said. “I’ll get you your drink.”

Taking a glass from the rack, Levinia knelt below as she guessed her father’s expression. Despairing, hopefully. Or guilty. Regretfully reminiscing. Self-pity, she told herself, she’d slap.

Above her, Daeon released a burdened sigh. “I had a theory,” he said, “that perhaps her soul had wandered elsewhere. You sent her off properly, yet she never arrived at Elysium. Never even saw Hades or Persephone to receive her decree.”

“Can’t say I care about your theories,” said Levinia, flipping a switch under her bar top. Soft amber light illuminated a cabinet below the register, as she produced a key from her pocket. “Take them to Athena or, I don’t know, Aristotle, since you’re so willing to head back down there. I’m sure Hades stashed him or some other philosopher in Elysium.”

“I’ll…consider it.” His tone deflated, yet he went on. “Your mother. Was—how angry was she?”

Levinia turned the lock on the cabinet. “She once promised to eviscerate you herself, if you came back while she was alive.” She simpered at her father’s groan and opened the glass door. Inside, mounted on its side, sat a plain, sealed amphora, a spigot retrofitted at its base. “But she never doubted your divinity.” Unpinning one of her ivy pins, Levinia felt about the patterned crest above the spigot. She turned the pin and fitted it into the crest, at the same time sliding the wine glass into place. “She never abandoned the craft you helped her master.”

“Which I see she also passed on to you.”

Holding the glass at a tilt, Levinia released the spigot. Dark red wine slipped in with hardly a bubble. “I like to think I did well by her.” She gingerly pulled the lever back, removed her hair pin from the crest, and stood, pocketing the pin as she nudged the cabinet shut. Pinky cushioned under the stem, she set the filled glass before her father. “But if she kept any secrets from me, she left them in this brew here.”

Levinia crossed her arms, as her father’s features creased with bafflement. “But why would she keep anything from you?”

Despite his confused tone, however, a strange, sharp clarity glinted in his eyes. Without realizing, her father had already, dimly, divined an answer, but needed a few moments longer to solidify his conclusion. Levinia shrugged anyway. “Experiments. Signatures. Something like that, if I had to guess. All she said was this one’s not complete ‘’til it received the blessings of Lord Dionysus.’” She gestured to the glass. “But you’ve already guessed that, right, wine being your domain? So go on. You’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

“With all of my gratitude,” Daeon replied, and picked up the glass. He tilted the wine toward the light and watched The Oracle’s amber lights flare through the deep red. His guilty remembrance softened into a fond smile as he brought the glass to his lips. He closed his eyes. “She’s created a masterpiece. I can tell already.”

Levinia rolled her eyes.

After another long moment and final deep breath, he tipped the glass back for the smallest sip.

Wonder filled his features then, his eyes practically glowing, while Levinia smirked. An old giddiness stirred in her as Daeon took another sip, longer this time. Then another. And another.

“Take your time,” she chuckled, dimly recognizing her own honest simper. Old memories stirred within her, reminding Levinia of fond memories of mother-daughter winemaking—to remind Father to come home!—until Mother had faded into a lonesome morosity some long, horrible time ago. After that and over the years, Levinia’s own love had withered into a desiccated husk of sadness, leaving her with the professional motions of winemaking, but none of the zeal.

‘Until,’ she thought, ‘now.’

“She’s mulled it well,” Daeon sighed. “There’s a bite, yet it’s kind. Soft.” He held a melancholic smile in his features. “As though she’s speaking to me. But this isn’t like her usual brews—what is that I taste? Persephone’s pomegranates?”

“As if she’d let you have the fruits of the dead. You’re tasting cherries, from what later became the Ottomans.”

“And the grapes?” Desperation strained his voice. “Did she use a blend?”

Levinia snorted. “Of only the grapes you raised. She wouldn’t agree to anything else for the private collection.” As her father put down his glass and cradled his head, Levinia swallowed the rest of her rebuke. She couldn’t berate his sincerity any longer. “I looked after what I could after you left. Still do. I’ll never be as good as you, but I did my best.” She smirked, sardonic. “Even stopped myself from burning them down, especially that ugly one with all the ivy.”

“Because Lyridice taught you to regard that one as though it was me.”

Mother had begged not only for the protection of the wine amphoras, but also, with sharp emphasis, the old grapevines in the private garden terrace. “For your father,” sighed a resigned Mother. “He’ll return to you during your long, long life. I promise.”

And now, millennia later, that promise had finally delivered.

Levinia raised a brow. “How did you figure?”

“I could never reach you through them,” Daeon reluctantly answered, “but I could still hear you. Your prayers. I heard both of you, whenever you called upon me through that grapevine.”

Levinia’s head spun, sour rage prickling again at the back of her throat. By force of habit, she had continued her one-sided conversations with the ivy-choked grapevines, increasingly so after her mother had passed. Even though passing time left her home in ruins, Levinia protected those plants with her life, taking them from the terraced gardens above the Mediterranean and across the world from new home to new home. Currently, they stood still and peaceful, enshrined in Levinia’s private garden.

And she still talked to them when she tended the garden. Through that conversation, Levinia realized, her father had found her. “I knew I should have burned that damn bush,” she hissed, every word pinched with more venom than the last. “So you really did know when Mother passed. You knew as soon as I told you and you still chose to not come home?”

“Forgive me, Levinia.” Distress mounted in Daeon’s voice. “I beg you to forgive me, but I know—I’m not—!” He sighed. “I’m not foolish either. You can’t forgive me. I heard that as well. Loud and clear.”

Levinia, remembering her wailing curses before the grapevine, bit her lip. Had her straight honesty then already done the damage she wanted? She leaned against her countertop, replying in a tight voice, “So what are you really here for? Obviously not to ask after Mother.”

“Lyridice has always been my reason—both of you have always been my reason.” Head cradled in one hand, he swirled his wine with the other. Exhaustion shadowed his features as he mockingly snorted, “Zeus advised me against coming here, ‘til I questioned him on his own children, those he left behind on this earth. He granted me some of his understanding then.” He lifted his head and met Levinia’s eye again. “Lyridice prayed that I look after you, Levinia. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Your point?”

“I’m here to take you home with me. To Olympus.”

She stared, fighting to keep her expression of ennui while pure rage pounded harder and harder against her temple. Home? Olympus?

With Dionysus?

Her breath ran icy hot through her nose, as dumbfounded Levinia curled her fingers around the edge of the countertop. The wood groaned under her grip. Even Daeon pulled back. “So that’s it?” Her stomach lurched over and over. Her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, even her neck and throat, all burned. “This? After all these years? Do you take me for a damn child?”

“It’s for your safety—!”

“—My safety?! Where was this proposition when the pirates showed up? When they burned down our home looking for ‘divine ichor,’ answer me that!”

“I never heard—when was this?”

“Who cares when it was! They hung me—hung me, Father, do you hear me?!—draining me for my blood! Where were you then?!”

“I was looking for your mother!”

“You mean my dead mother?”

“She wasn’t—Levinia, listen to me—Lyridice’s not in the Underworld. She promised to wait for me at Elysium without drinking from Lethe, but I swear to you, she wasn’t there.”

She could have snatched up the glass on the table and smashed it into her father’s face. She could scream at the insolence, the disrespect, but she swallowed the rage scalding her throat. How had she not already vaporized or combusted? Pressing both hands to her temples, Levinia blew out a long, thin, tremulous breath. Then regarding her father with seething disappointment, she blew another breath and lowered her hands. Fists balled, she rounded the bar and stood before Dionysus.

Miss Levinia lifted one hand and pointed at the door. Her voice, icy and curt, sharpened further as she hissed through gritted teeth. “Get out.”

She snapped against his protest. “Mother was more right about you in her anger,” she pressed, “then she ever was in her love for you. You choose to smear her memory? Deflect your responsibility to her? Then I won’t listen to another second of this asinine talk, you hear me, especially in here! Get out!”

A shocked Daeon rose before her. “I never smeared or deflected—!”

“Yet you insist she’s not where she belongs?”

“Zeus forbade me from asking after Lyridice!”

“She was beneath you anyway, is that it? Leave her in peace!”

“I have been fighting, Levinia, fighting for leave this entire time—!”

“And it’s only now that Zeus is granting you this oh-so-necessary permission to see me? To look for Mother? Spit out that wine and cry me a river! Mother must have drowned herself in Lethe, just to avoid seeing you again!”

“By the Styx, child, relinquish your stubbornness for just one moment!”

“Take your patronizing and shove it, Father, because that stubbornness was all I ever had! For years, for centuries, for so goddamn long, all I ever had was that stubbornness to live! To survive!” Every nerve, every breath, every bone in Levinia’s body rattled. Yet somehow, as she regarded her father’s perturbed expression, she scoffed. Why even bother anymore? Why care so much now? Suddenly exhausted, she turned away. “So leave me to it. What’s another lost child to you or the gods, anyway?”

She tottered back behind the bar, as Daeon, shaking his head, fell back into his seat. “You were never lost to me,” he said. “Never.”

“Thanks for the nice thought,” Levinia muttered, “but you’re lying. Get out of my store.”

He lingered, however, drumming his fingers against the bar top. “Divine ichor,” he reflected. “How could anyone have figured that out about you?”

“Live just twenty years past your dead mother without looking more than a teenager, and people start wondering. And don’t try your persuasion on me. I’m of your blood.”

“But your ichor’s mixed, a far cry from that of the gods.”

Levinia rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut as the dust cleared from her memories. Her mother had died, her father disappeared, and the people of that old vineyard had all passed on, leaving behind rumors of a ghost girl wandering the ruins of that once-hallowed estate. In the following lonely years, she ran pirates and treasure hunters for loops around the ruins and cackled at their bumbling expense, until they lashed her by her ankles and heated their cursed knives. “Details,” she mumbled. “Humans don’t care for them when they’re afraid of death.”

Pulling back from the counter, Levinia embraced herself, flinching as her body recalled the searing lacerations, one by one. Her breath shuddered in the icy hollow of her chest. ‘It’s all in the past,’ she told herself. ‘Just nightmares now.’

Just a nightmare. The distant memory of her mother’s voice sounded so close in Levinia’s head. But now you’re awake. And see? Mother is close to you. Father is always with you. The nightmares can’t reach you now.

“Levinia.”

She jerked back to reality—eyes wide, nose flaring, breath still shallow—to find her father offering his hand. “I thought,” Levinia snarled, albeit weakly, “I told you to leave.” Doubt and nostalgia pummeled her inside as she regarded the open palm before her. When was the last time she’d seen and held this hand?

“You spoke so many times before the vines—in joy, in anger, in sorrow—yet you never spoke of your suffering. Why?”

“Because…” Neither snark or sarcasm broke past the knot of honesty tangling in her throat. To tell, or not tell? After all, the last time she spoke to her father about her fears was the night before he disappeared. That was the last time they held hands.

What was that fear again? What had she told him? Levinia stared still at the offered hand, long fingers, knuckles somehow graceful, skin tanned by the Mediterranean sun. That same hand had given her a spoon of honey to soothe her, when she woke up screaming that night.

It was a nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

Wasn’t it?

A nightmare, of a thick black sea crashing forth from beyond an infinite horizon. Dark water coiled up her ankles and seized her wrists and throat and pitched her into the brine. The shadows flooded her nose and darkened her vision, whispered yet screamed, sang yet cried. She flailed and kicked for the surface, but the choking darkness dragged her lower and lower. Something—someone—grabbed her by the root of her soul, and she stilled, paralyzed. Ever deeper she sank, ever aware of the unending depth; she was returning somewhere, a place neither Mother or Father, a place from which her soul shrieked for escape.

She told Father this nightmare after crying against Mother.

Father left the very next morning.

“If you were listening at all after that,” Levinia finally responded, “I didn’t want to give you a reason to truly abandon me.” She laid her fingertips against her father’s. Like hers, and like she remembered, they were soft, maybe a little dry from tending the grapevines. And as she’d done so often as a child at the dinner table, she tapped her fingers against his, lightly, to escape Mother’s rebuke though she laughed eventually.

“It was never my intention—I didn’t mean to—no.” He curled their fingers together and gently gripped Levinia’s hand. “None of that matters.

“I’m sorry, Levinia.”

The apology hung thick, slowly permeating. Tears beaded in Levinia’s vision.

“I’m sorry, for leaving you so alone, so suddenly. I’m so sorry.”

She laid a hand over her eyes and turned her face askance. Biting her lip, she shook her head and swallowed in choking shudders. Miss Levinia, always stoic, never shed tears, not even for friends or close associates. Not even, she hoped, for her father.

Yet he, in silence, tightly held her hand.

“Levinia,” he then started. “As a child, you so desperately wanted to see your lord grandfather. I denied you that, but, do you remember how you tried to persuade me? The one thing you tried?”

Levinia, afraid of a habitual snap coming out instead of a question, sucked in another breath.

The one thing she tried?

The words came out before her foggy memory cleared. “I stole one of the wine amphoras,” she said. “A heavy thing of some special brew you made with Mother.” Lifting her hand, she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, her memory’s eye following the movements of that little girl. “I… I drank some of it. And I fell asleep.”

Daeon nodded. “Then you had your nightmare. But, hear me, Levinia. It wasn’t just a nightmare.” He took her hand in both of his. “Your divinity shone when you told us about it. That wine opened your vision—your power. You had a vision with far more clarity than even some of Apollo’s oracles.”

“Talk about a stretch of the imagination.” Levinia sniffled. Still turned aside, she drew back and crossed her arms. “I’ve had no prophetic visions since then.”

“Have you had a wine blessed by your father since then?”

Her father’s smugness instilled Levinia with further disbelief. “You’re not a god associated with prophecy.”

“So let’s call it an epiphany. That you call this winery ‘The Oracle’—fate has good taste.”

Levinia wrinkled her nose. Still, the man had a right to believe whatever he pleased, so long as he provided the information she wanted. She crossed her arms. “Epiphany it is. So what did I see?”

In the ensuing silence, Daeon’s features fell again. He folded his hands together. “You’ll believe me, then?”

“I won’t guarantee it.”

“That’s fair,” he snorted. “Your unquestioning faith is certainly far more than I can ask for.” He took a deep breath. Then, despite the uncertain furrow of his brow, he began. “We took some time to decode your epiphany. We still have some disagreement about the details, but overall, we think you saw the seas of Chaos.”

That shapeless, tumultuous beginning of all? Levinia raised her brow. “What about it?”

“Them,” Daeon corrected. “They’re an entity, as well as a place. Considering what happened to you in that dream, there’s reason to believe They’re rising.”

“You’re insinuating that Chaos—which just is, and once abdicated Their supremacy—has adopted purpose and direction?”

Daeon chuckled. “And there’s the disbelief. But you’ve noticed the shift in this world, haven’t you? Humanity is slowly sliding this realm back into Chaos, as though to meet Them halfway.”

“Humans have always been a chaotic species. It’s their fate.”

“So you believe the Moirai designed the arrival of their siblings? The children of Nyx?”

“You say it like they’ve never been around.”

“Certainly, they’ve always had their governance over humanity—in dreams, in sleep, in death—but have they always been here, among the mortals? They’re becoming more and more deliberate in their duties, and the humans resist those machinations. You know what defiance of destiny invites.”

Defiance of destiny is the rejection of the gods’ order, and thus, a ticket for Chaos to emerge. The ichor hunters of Levinia’s youth demonstrated as much in their desperate resistance against death, and her network had reported even more: retribution stirring within and between countries, mass, fatal siren calls of both needles and firearms, older generations passing ill will rather than wisdom to the young. “So it was all one cohesive pattern,” Levinia muttered. “They’re goading humans to reject order.”

“Thus allowing the primordial gods even greater reign across the mortal realm. Their efforts will cloud humanity with the mists of Erebus, and so ready this world for Nyx’s sovereignty.” Daeon’s voice fell. “Once Nyx veils all in primordial night and refuses return to Tartarus, Chaos will surge forth to reclaim what They bore.”

“Unbelievable,” Levinia snorted, shaking her spinning head. “You inferred all of this from a drunken nightmare I had as a child, and you’re only now coming with a full analysis of it?”

“We had to be sure we correctly understood this particular thread of fate. Our preparations needed to be perfect.”

“And leaving lovers and demigod children behind in the meantime?”

Here, Daeon met Levinia’s eye. Guilt, and at the same time, conviction, reflected in his expression. “That was never my intention. We all had our parts to play in this matter, what with closing the gates of Olympus…”

Levinia blinked, eyes bugging out. “Come again?” she scoffed. “Zeus would have you and his family abandon this realm?”

“I’m sure,” Daeon interjected, “I’m certain, he made the decision with a heavy heart—humans have always fascinated him! Yet I hear the scale of this conflict won’t compare to the war against the Titans, or so Poseidon assures.”

Levinia pressed her fingers against her temples, her scrambled disbelief pounding a headache. Slowly, she parsed her thoughts.

One, her father sat before her at her bar. He wanted to take her home, to his home of Olympus.

Two, the children of Nyx, even Nyx herself, worked to set the humans against themselves. To invite Chaos back. And Levinia had had a dream prophesying this some long, ancient time ago.

And, according to Levinia’s up-til-then absent father, her assuredly dead mother had somehow missed the road signs and ferry to the Underworld. She never took her rightful place among the dead.

“Whew…” She lowered her hands and laid them flat on the polished bar top. Refocus, she told herself. What’s here? What’s now?

Herself, first of all. Her father and his unannounced visit. The wine between them, Mother’s “Prayer”—Ah, Levinia, I am so sorry. I’m nobody more than a winemaker’s daughter and yet I find myself wishing—though Levinia would not tell Dionysus this name.

And then The Oracle. She’d been here so long, along with others too. Others that mattered. “What about the other kids like me? You’ve all abandoned us for so long—now you have a plan?”

“We’re in disagreement there as well.” Daeon met Levinia’s sharp, accusatory glare and hurriedly added, “I will grant you protection, of course, but some would rather maintain Olympus as hallowed ground, and prepare those children for war instead. A crusade, they say, to restore order.”

Did you hear, Levinia? Your father finally has his throne among the Olympians! Apparently, bringing his mother back from Hades was the final test of his divinity. And now she’s ascended as a deity on Olympus too!

I… I wonder, if that honor could ever be extended to me?

Soft orange flares glowed in the crystal of Levinia’s neatly lined glasses. She asked, quietly, “Would you have protected Mother, were she still alive?”

“That’s why I made my way to the Underworld again.” Daeon murmured, as if their whispers could somehow reach the shade in question. “Hades was cross with me, but I had every intention of bringing Lyridice back. Only, she wasn’t in Elysium.”

Semele was beautiful—is beautiful. You see, beauty makes the difference between two mortal women. Look at me. I’ve always been cross. I’ve never been beautiful. I’ve this ugly red mark on my face that I wrapped and hid every day, yet your lord father unveiled me. Looked upon me. Embraced me and called me beautiful. I told him he’ll someday wake up from those delusions.

But now, without him? I miss him, Levinia. I miss him more every day.

I tell myself he’ll come home. Do you think the gods will forgive my vanity?

“She would have waited. You’re right about that, at least.” She waved aside Daeon’s touched, tearful look. “At least I’m still here. You’d have me head for Olympus as a refugee, then?”

Noting her father’s affirming nod, Levinia regarded the quiet winery. For sanctuary within Olympus, she’d have to give this place up. Whether this “rising” of Chaos happened tonight or within the next five hundred years, Olympus would supposedly protect her. Her father was luckily one of the kinder Olympians who reveled in celebration more than sacrifice.

But the more pragmatic gods meant to outfit their demigod children for war. With war came carnage, meaning those abandoned kids would inevitably be the first casualties. The thought soured in the back of Levinia’s throat. “Can’t you extend your protection to the rest of our kind?”

Daeon folded his shaking hands together. “It’s my word against those of older siblings and my father. Some have no kindness or wisdom, but I will continue asking them to reconsider. Demigods or not, our children shouldn’t have to suffer their parents’ whims.”

Levinia snorted. “You could say that twice and a few times more.”

“Please, Levinia.”

“I don’t think so, Father. I’m not as bitter now, but I still have a right to my anger. Rage is also part of your domain, after all.”

She smirked at her father’s exasperation, yet Levinia’s thoughts wandered again. Less fortunate kids had no divine or living parent to speak of or with. Those lost children floated about and survived, until rumor clued them into a haven nestled in the heart of some far-flung wine country. Half-disbelieving, they stumbled on, following the word of equally mistrustful kids until they fell upon the doorstep of The Oracle. Levinia gave them food, drink, a bed, a bath, no questions, and only one rule: no trouble. After a few silent days, they usually asked about their almighty parents, because surely Miss Levinia and her network would have answers, but she always gave her sobering response of, “No one knows.”

Now she knew—Chaos is coming and the gates of Olympus are closing—but then what? Absent parents never had sudden changes of heart. Even Dionysus needed a reason. So how would an answer change any of the demigods’ circumstances? If Levinia left The Oracle, where would those kids go next?

‘They’re resourceful,’ she told herself. ‘They know how to get by.’ Yet a sense of proud duty answered, that without Miss Levinia, who knew the ways of the divine children because she was one too, the kids had nowhere else to go. After all, she maintained the store’s front not only for her devotion to winemaking.

She tapped the bar top. “You’ll be returning to Olympus,” Levinia finally answered, “without me.”

“Without—wait—without?”

Levinia smiled despite the pang against her chest. “Ah, Father. Think of it like this: if I could get you to choose me over your other children, would you stay with me here among the mortals?” She noted Daeon’s alarmed, ponderous expression and waved her remark aside. “You see? Much as I would hate and appreciate my lord father’s company, either I would have to abandon this place, or you would have to stay with me in this possible war-zone.” Levinia took a dry cloth from a cabinet, wet and wrung it, and began wiping down her bar top. “I don’t think we can compromise either of our positions.”

Understanding visibly dawned in Daeon’s expression. He said nothing for a long while, only picking up his empty glass to let Levinia wipe. Then, “Tell me, Levinia,” he started, “about this place. You never spoke much about it through the grapevine.”

“Professional necessity,” Levinia replied. “I said nothing about this operation in case someone up there didn’t like the idea of a bunch of demigod children gathering in one place.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I realized humans believe immortality’s worth bleeding a kid dry.” She snickered at Daeon’s flinch. “I’ve had a lot of help, since I’m moving shop all around. This place is only a couple centuries old.”

“Why reveal this place to mortals as a winery?”

Levinia shrugged. “Tending to and establishing this network takes money, you know. I make good wine, and some of the kids want jobs. So I help them by keeping this place in operation throughout the day.

“Kids are smart, see. They rotate their own roster and keep me a secret. The humans believe the original owner’s long dead.”

Daeon, tracing the rim of his glass, finally smiled. “A compelling ruse. You truly do make a fantastic protection goddess.”

“Don’t joke like that,” said Levinia. “It’s just volunteer work. I only started this because I needed a place like this as a child. Figured there were others too.” She eyed her father’s glass, its bottom caked with the last drying drops of Lyridice’s “Prayer.” Then squaring her shoulders and straightening her waistcoat, Levinia folded her hands behind her back. “Well then. You have your answer, and assuming you’re telling the truth, I shouldn’t keep you. Thank you, Father, for finding me.”

To which Daeon regarded with a somber shake of his head, before he broke into a chuckle. “I see you’ve inherited that terrible habit of hers,” he said.

“Habit?”

“That dismissive tone. Lyridice was always cross, even as a young woman. I believed I could persuade her to soften her edges, but I never succeeded.” He snickered, low and fond. “I couldn’t. She was bright. Hardworking. Sensible and fearless. She eventually revealed her vulnerability to me, but I always found her snap quite charming.”

“And I’m her daughter,” Levinia snorted. “Notice, that while you confused me and pissed me off, you never persuaded me.”

“I stopped you from throwing me out.”

“Save your breath. That wasn’t your persuasion.”

“So you say, but I believe I can yet convince you to come with me.”

Levinia narrowed her eyes. “If you’re telling the truth, your father’s gates will close before you convince me to do anything, much less rely on your protection.”

“Is that a challenge? I do intend on returning to enjoy Lyridice’s masterpiece a few times more.”

“Then take the entire jug. I’m sure she’d like that.”

“Do you think it’ll lead us to her?” Eager hope made him breathless, as he leaned forward on the bar top. “She asked you to preserve this wine for a reason, something more than simply my blessing.”

Levinia raised a brow. “You’re overthinking it. She left no records or recipes, and told me nothing. So I doubt you’ll glean anything from this brew, let alone where she could be other than avoiding you in Elysium.”

“She was never a woman to back out of her promises.” Hands folded, Daeon stared, pensive, at the glass before him. “Zeus will leave the gates open to the very last minute. I’ll find Lyridice by then.”

Levinia, still wordlessly impressed by her father’s faith, shook her head.

Then a wind stirred outside, heralding the arrival of another visitor. Two, in fact, by the sounds of familiar motorcycle purrs and deep, soul-curdling barking. Levinia eyed the glass panes of her doors and watched as the twins’ silhouettes approached The Oracle. Sensing drawn blades should they recognize an Olympian at their favorite haunt, Levinia cleared her throat. “Consider yourself taken with a grain of salt,” she said, “but I’ll see what I can find on my end.”

The statement had her father beaming. “A grain is better than none,” he said. “Know that I’m proud of you, Levinia.”

She averted her eyes from Daeon’s smile as the flare of her own ears choked her smartest responses and left her grumbling, “Now I do.” While she snorted against the embarrassed tangle in her chest, her gaze darted across the tasting room. Setting her eyes back on her father then, she knew, spelled trouble for the still-restrained tears prickling across her face. “And, uh, if you could kindly see yourself out soon? You’ll—you’ll send the brats running for the hills.”

Daeon turned toward the doors, where the twins peered through the glass. “Well, that wouldn’t do,” he said, softening his voice. The doors swung open, revealing the twins already in their ready stances, hands clenched over the handles of their weapons. “I’ve truly overstayed my welcome, then?”

The brother’s black steel sword and the sister’s ebonywood flute shone orange under The Oracle’s amber lights. Lips pursed, Levinia eyed her returning customers and shook her head. “Truly,” she replied, flinching at her own cold civility. “Go on. Get out.”

Yet Daeon kept his steady grin. He rose from his seat and buried his hands in his pockets. “I hope you’ll allow me to come back, then.”

Heart leaping up her chest, and with little trace of her old bitterness, Miss Levinia returned Lord Dionysus’s radiant grin, albeit with a huff. “’Tis a promise,” she said, “and I’m personally holding you to that this time. Don’t come ‘til the store’s empty, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, my dear. Loud and clear.”

He lifted his hand in farewell, and bowing his head, passed the tensed twins on his way to the door. The door closed behind him, and like fading smoke, Father disappeared into the night. Levinia released her held breath in a deep exhale.

The twins, sheathing their weapons, slid into their stools. They leaned over the bar top, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed. Who was that man in that hideous purple hood? Did he seriously have leopard print down the sleeves and sides? That hoodie alone’s enough for an assassination request, Miss Levinia, and—friendly reminder—the twins had cleared their schedule for the evening. She knew, right, that if she ever were in trouble, she could ask them, and they’d do whatever necessary to return their favors. And their tab.

Levinia nodded, blankly rinsing her father’s glass. A part of her cursed the twins for their prickly mistrust. Another part applauded herself for avoiding an altercation between god and demigod. As she drew her sleeve across her wet eyes, she dimly registered another part of herself fading—the rage that once flared in the back of her throat, up into her head, and all through her body for centuries untold. And as she dried her father’s glass and set it next to the amphora in her sealed cabinet, a newly assured part steeled her new gamble: Mother’s prayer would again bring Father back home.

Now her business began. “You two—you’re alright,” Miss Levinia remarked, beckoning her customers to calm down. She wore her customary smile again, improved, she realized, from the new stretch of her lips and the crease of her eyes and cheeks. “I just got hold of new information for you and the other brats. New job too, personal this time.”

She set two glasses before the twins and retrieved a new bottle from the wall behind her. “I need you to find a missing shade in the Underworld. And relax; this round’s on me.

“We’re celebrating tonight.”

[the-zodiacs-written-in-the-stars]

Writer’s Month Day 26: Wedding

Three years prior to the main-story, Rick and Lizzy go to New Orleans to attend her sister’s wedding.

“I think this is too early. Is this too early? This is too early.”

Lizzy smiled fondly and rolled her eyes at her boyfriend before she leaned in and kissed his cheek. He was behind the steering wheel, driving them to New Orleans. Ricky was truly adorable.

“We've been dating for a year. You met my parents already”, pointed Lizzy out. “And I have spent countless family dinners with your family by now. Don't be like this.”

“Your parents. But not your siblings”, muttered Rick with a frown.

“Because they're always all over the place”, huffed Lizzy dismissively. “Besides, you do know the woman of the hour. My sister insists on you being at her wedding, so you will be at her wedding.”

Rick grumbled though he did shut up. He did know Laureen personally and he also knew the groom – Doctor Charles Jones, their ME. Him and Mike regularly worked close with him. He was rather grumpy and tended to keep to himself mostly. Himself and the woman he loved.

“Besi—ides, you get a private tour of New Orleans from yours truly”, declared Lizzy.

She grinned at him and winked, making him sigh and nod.

~*~

Quanna Liddell was a bright woman, her smile was contagious as she pulled Rick into a hug. Her dreadlocks were put up in a high pony-tail, held up with a purple band that matched her dress. She was curvy in build, very different from Elizabeth and Laureen, both her daughters being more on the insanely tall, skinny side, something they may have inherited from their father Dean.

“It's so good to see you again!”, exclaimed Quanna with a smile.

Quanna and Dean had come to Los Angeles for Thanksgiving, spending it with Rick's family after Rick had invited them. With all their kids having moved out by now, they gladly took the invitation to spend their Thanksgiving with at least two of their kids; Doc and Laureen had happily come too (well, Laureen had, Doc had just glared. Until he had gotten to the pumpkin pie Rick's mom had made and Rick swore he had never seen the big grump this happy before in his life).

“You two are going to stay in Lizzy's old bedroom, if you don't mind”, offered Dean.

He smiled and patted Rick on the back. Dean was more the body-type of his daughters. Skinny tall with high cheek-bones. He was so easy going that seeing him always relaxed Rick. Which was a blessing; he had always been afraid of meeting a dad, like an actual over-protective dad type. Dean had just laughed and dismissed him when Rick had first met him and been dreadful of any threats. He had said he trusted his daughter's judgment and if she saw something in him, it must be there.

“Sounds perfect to me”, nodded Rick, relieved he got to share a room with his girlfriend.

“You haven't met our other children yet, have you?”, asked Dean. “Come on in.”

Rick nodded and followed Dean and Quanna inside. So far, from driving through the streets, he had to admit that he really liked this city. The visual of it was great. Inside the house, in what looked like a very lived-in living room (so many decorations – it reminded him of Lizzy and all the small figures and things she collected. Apparently, that ran in the family too), there were already four people. Rick frowned a little confused. He was under the impression that Lizzy and Laureen only had three siblings. He did another head-count. No. There were four.

“Guys!”, exclaimed Lizzy excitedly.

She ran up to them and hugged them one by one. Rick smiled as the tallest man got up to shake hands. “I'm Frank. Lizzy's older brother. And this is my wife Anabel. It's good to finally meet you. Lizzy talks a lot about you.”

Anabel lifted a hand and waved at him. Okay. Frank had moved away from New Orleans ten years ago with his wife, Rick remembered that Lizzy told him that. The second born, being the second one to move out but staying longer at home than Laureen who had moved out at twenty-two, as soon as she had enough money to go and try to live her dream in Los Angeles. That left the two youngest. Henry and Mary. Mary was twenty-one and studying art in... Europe. Somewhere. Rick couldn't remember. Henry was a musician, a singer and guitarist who constantly toured the states, playing at bars and living from day to day (Quanna had spent half of Thanksgiving complaining about that. She worried about her son. Rightfully so, Rick would probably have a meltdown too if he had a kid and that kid would be out there, traveling and living from day to day).

“Mh. Not bad”, commented Mary, her eyebrows raised as she looked at Rick.

She was shorter than her sisters but somehow still on the more lanky side, her hair put up in two knots, one on either side of her head. Henry next to her slowly pulled his headphones off when he noticed the new arrivals and also turned his full attention toward Rick.

“Not bad indeed”, agreed Henry with a grin. “Very pretty.”

“Guys. Stop flirting with my boyfriend, he's taken”, grunted Lizzy possessively.

“It's already late, you must be tired”, sighed Quanna concerned. “You want to go to bed, or eat something first? We did save you some dinner, you know.”

“Ma, I'd never say no to dad's cooking”, stated Lizzy seriously.

Rick grinned as he followed toward the kitchen. The entire family trailed after them too, because apparently late second dinner seemed very tempting. The whole time they ate, Henry and Mary bickered to the point of throwing food to which Dean chuckled and Quanna laughed. It... felt like home. It reminded Rick of family dinners with his own family. So many different personalities.

~*~

The next day was the day of the wedding. Rick had to admit that Laureen looked absolutely breathtaking in her white dress with the soft purple flowers decorating her cleavage and the lower end of the frilly dress. Her bridesmaids were her sisters Lizzy and Mary, as well as her best friend – Sunny Korrapati. Rick had seen Sunny a couple times at the hospital already when visiting injured victims or witnesses, she was one of the top surgeons in New York and, as the nickname suggested, an absolute sunshine personality. She had gone to med school with Charles and met his best friend through him. Now she was the maid of honor at Charles' wedding. That was cute. Rick couldn't wait to have his best friend as his best man at his own wedding. He side-eyed Lizzy and blushed a bit.

The ceremony was absolutely beautiful and the food afterward was delicious. Rick and Lizzy were sitting at the same table as the Liddell-family, of course. And aside from them were the maid of honor and the best man... who was a best woman, who was actually Rick's boss.

“Uhm. Captain Lacroix. Fancy seeing you here, ma'am”, grinned Rick awkwardly.

The captain looked unimpressed at him. “It's no secret Charles and I are close friends. But if you show anyone at the precinct photos of me in a dress, I will personally make you give speeding tickets for the rest of your career, Alfaro.”

“Yes, ma'am”, squeaked Rick and gulped hard.

The captain was really very scary and Rick was absolutely terrified of her on a good day. There was no way he was ever telling anyone about how pretty she could look with princess-curls and in a dress. He had ever only seen her in suits and with her hair up in a messy bun and a glare on her face that would only soften the tiniest bit after about five coffees in the morning.

“Amy, please stop threatening the guests”, requested Laureen with a sigh.

“Not when your guest is one of my punk officers”, grunted Amy sternly.

“But I thought he was a good one. Alfaro, you always talk highly of him”, offered Sunny.

She frowned confused as she sipped her champagne, while Amy growled. “That was a private conversation over Monopoly, Sunny. Respect the game night rules.”

“Game night? With the captain?”, whispered Rick doe-eyed.

“Of course”, grunted Doc and rolled his eyes. “You still don't get that she is my best friend. We're close. And me and my... wife... have regular game nights with our best friends.”

Rick nodded and looked from the darkly glaring Captain Lacroix to the grumpy Doc. Best friends. It figured. He could just picture them braiding each other's hair – well, Doc didn't have hair, but still. In all reality, the two probably spent lunch by sitting together and glaring intensely and that... was bonding. Still, the stark contrast between those two and Sunny and Laureen was incredible. Laureen was a pastel-colored pastry chef and bakery owner, while Sunny in her all pink outfit and with her bright smiles alone lit up the whole room. How... did those four fit together into one game-night...? Rick shook his head amused, before being pulled out of his chair by Lizzy.

“Dance with me instead of bugging people”, demanded Lizzy amused.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and immediately everything around them seemed forgotten as Rick got lost in her dark, warm eyes. Everything about this was surreal to him – he was so used to being the one with the family that welcomed everyone in that it was odd to be on the receiving end of such a thing, then seeing two people he was used to seeing at the workplace and with stern expressions both so... soft now (not that he'd ever call the captain that to her face, but in that dress, with that make-up and hair...? She looked soft)? A large part of him really wanted to get a picture of the captain so he could show it to Mike – he would understand why all of this was so baffling! And the idea of the captain and Doc playing Monopoly was just... out of this universe. Parallel universe maybe? Mh. Maybe they had crossed into one on their drive to New Orleans.

“I love your parents. And your siblings are awesome. And this city is... amazing”, hummed Rick. “I'm... glad you took me as your plus one, Lizabella.”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her, earning a very pleased look from Lizzy. “Boy, you make for a yummy arm-candy of course did I take you with me. You think I want to show up single on my own sister's wedding? Especially on a count-down wedding like this.”

“Count-down wedding?”, echoed Rick confused.

“Frankie was the first to get married, much to no one's surprise. He had his whole life planned out in precise details. Getting married before he was 30 was one of them. Laureen took it slower, but still she is the firstborn so it figures she'd get married too at some point. See the math? Firstborn, second born... I'm the third born”, elaborated Lizzy with an eyeroll. “Oh, don't look like a startled deer I'm not proposing. But it still looks better to at least have a partner on a wedding.”

“And Mary and Henry?”, asked Rick curiously, looking over her shoulder at the youngest Liddells.

“Mary's too focused on her art-studies and the fact that she's all the way in Paris makes it easy to hide whatever she's got going on in her love-life”, replied Lizzy. “For all I know she could be in a committed relationship. She's never been a fan of relationship gossip. And Henry has a new boyfriend in every city he tours. His life-style doesn't necessarily help with long-term relationships. Besides, they will most definitely wait until I'm getting married before worrying about that.”

“You said not to worry, but I do start to pressured”, noted Rick lightly.

“I mean”, drawled Lizzy with a mischievous smile before she leaned in and kissed him slowly. “You are very cute. Steady income. Lovely family that seems to like me alright too. Keep playing your cards right and who knows where our relationship leads us, pretty boy.”

Rick grinned at that and pulled her some closer, close enough so he could kiss her again. Wedding plans were maybe a little too early, they really had only been dating for a year. But this was maybe the most intense relationship Rick ever had and if he was being honest with himself, the thought of Lizzy in a wedding dress was the opposite of scary for him.

[nightcoremoon]

wow the chronicles of narnia the lion the witch and the wardrobe is written about as "well" as most children's literature is because it literally is children's literature. I have literally read a crossover between Harry Potter, Invader Zim, and Tales Of Symphonia by a thirteen year old and it was fucking incredible. I have literally read a crossover between Jak & Daxter, Spyro, Sly Cooper, Crash Bandicoot, and Ratchet & Clank by a thirteen year old and it was also fucking incredible. I have literally read a three part 600K words modern day high school UK AU of Avatar The Last Airbender where Zuko and Katara were obsessed with Stephen King's The Dark Tower series and bands like Paramore and Papa Roach and it was probably the best thing I've literally ever read in my entire life. And the author was only fourteen.

dear fledgling writers who feel sad that their works "aren't as good" as "real" authors like cs lewis and jrr tolkien and ursula k le guin and jk rowling and chris paolini and rick riordan and james patterson and ray bradbury and john green and kurt vonnegut and stephen king and suzanne collins and douglas adams and lemony snicket and se hinton and veronica roth and fuck it I'll even add stephenie meyer to the list:

I can guaranfuckingtee you that if you actually read some of their works you'll see that the only differences between you and them is that they finished writing their books.

the lion the witch and the wardrobe has way too fast of a pace and too much expositional infodumping and too much "x said y then x said y then x said y". tolkien had way too much worldbuilding and lore and linguistics getting in the way of the stories. harry potter is not that great from a mechanical standpoint even if I'm completely disregarding jk's mass quantity of social fuckups. eragon is just okay (although eldest and brisingr got exponentially better but if you think about it that's because he kept on writing). the lightning thief is just okay (and again the series got exponentially better as rick kept writing). patterson is just not that good of a writer (like dean koontz and nora roberts). most of bradbury's writings sucked because they were just propaganda pieces for his own personal beliefs but he literally wrote an entire book every single day for years and when you have that much practice it's literally impossible to actually write anything bad, just mediocre at best. stephen king had a dozen amazing books but for each amazing one there were three or four "meh" ones. the hunger games was a bit clunky & rough at the beginning of the trilogy. douglas adams focused more on humor than on substance and luckily he's actually hilarious. a series of unfortunate events prided itself on coasting on plot contrivances and people being dumbasses to an unrealistically absurd degree and never explaining a single goddamn thing to the audience and never actually having an ending [and even when he did write an actual ending where everyone died it still made no fucking sense because why in the unholy fuck did beatrice become romantic with her uncle lemony? unless it really was actually the fucking baudelaire's mom he was pining for even though that timeline makes no fucking sense because when they were in the vfd they literally weren't even living in the same state AUGH] and so full of plot holes but that was ~part of the charm~. the outsiders was just a straight (haha pun) fucking mess. divergent is famously known for being way overrated and lacking in actual substance. twilight was too slow and dry and fucking MORMON to be at all enjoyable until new moon and even then it was a pile of abusive and ableist and self righteous garbage with a few good subplots, and so on.

now, each of those authors are talented and have written good books, and I won't speak ill of their talents, and am in fact a huge fan of at least half of them, and I at least respect the rest because they work their asses off to make content for their hungry fans. but it just goes to show that books don't have to be perfect. they don't have to be polished and meticulously well crafted and comb a thesaurus and follow every single grammatical construct to the letter and juggle tropes perfectly and stand for important messages and otherwise be anything other than stories to share with people.

and of course there's lots of shitty fanfiction. I've read a lot of shitty fanfiction. I mean shit I've WRITTEN a lot of shitty fanfiction. and I mean irredeemably unsalvageable to the point that I literally don't even wanna know that they exist. I've read things that were so godawful I literally gave up halfway through, purged from my memory, found again, and was punched in the face from the suppressed memories of just how painful it was to read. and I can say the same exact thing about some original fiction I won't mention by name because that would be mean. what I mean by the first paragraph is that those are the epitome of cringe culture in young teens writing, and yet in spite of that were all still masterpieces in their own right.

being a good writer isn't about whether it's original or fanfic. it isn't about whether you're as good as the multimillionaires. it's about saying fuck it and writing regardless of whether other people will like it because those stories belong to you. and you'll never know if the world will love it or if you'll be the next charles dickens or jane austen unless you tell that voice in your head "fuck you, I AM good enough!", put the hypothetical finger to the metaphorical typewriter keys, and WRITE YOUR BOOK.

now of course, your first book will be a mess. but that's called drafting. analyze what's wrong, fix what you can, change what you can't, add more or take some away to fix the pacing, GET A SECOND PERSON TO BE AN EDITOR, but most importantly of all, NEVER GIVE UP. giving up is a 100% chance of never being an author, but trying? it's at least 1%. so if you write a hundred books then statistically at least one of them will be awesome.

just don't compare yourself to other writers. instead, draw inspiration from them.

you miss all the shots you don't take. so don't let the fear of missing keep you from aiming at the target.

and remember:

every master author started off as a beginner.

just like you.

and look, as long as you're better than my immortal and phanslash's hat fic and the my little pony cupcakes creepypasta, then you're fucking golden.

every meh story you write is one step closer to your anna karenina, your war & peace, your moby dick, your pride & prejudice, your jane eyre, your great gatsby, your to kill a mocking bird, your beowulf, your tale of gilgamesh and enkidu, your odyssey, your don motherfucking quixote.

you might not write the greatest book in the world but if that's your goal, your passion is in the wrong place. but if you wanna write that novel so you can say "hey world, I wrote a fucking book, and I'm proud of it. what did you do?" then don't let insecurity drag you under. don't worry about inferiority. just write.

[stagmanparty]

So I finished watching MLP Season 8 and...

….it´s actually not bad.

Yeah, I´m the first to admit I have to eat my words and agree the show hasn´t really gone down as much as I thought after the movie. I still hate it but the show itself remains good. Yes, there are more than a few mediocre or outright horrible episodes there but the good ones more than compensate.

I do believe that Dubuc is kinda out of her element on ponies, which may explain her use for an entire new cast aside from hasbro´s orders. The friendship school thing is done better than I though tough I still think is kinda stupid at moments.

Overall the balance is...fine.

I was expecting worse but it was an okay season.

I do hate that they explicitly mention the events of the movie but they´re STILL refusing to acknowledge the Equestria Girls ones. Come on Mccarty, stop being embarrassed ot the BETTER story!

Below the cut is my personal opinions of each episode with a dose of sarcasm if u want to read them but for the season as a whole I´ll give a 7/10 it was regular to me.

701-702:  “Girls, I want you all to work on my new school!”

“We have lives, Twilight”

ROLL CREDITS

So this wasn´t bad. I though Twilight was gonna be more selfish but she actually makes some fair points and owns to her mistakes here. What´s funny is that she doesn't act this way the rest of the season…

I still think the students are kinda lame but I like how they interact with each other and the episode itself was well handled.

Still, Twilight isn't perfect either since she refuses to have zebras or buffaloes or talking cats on her school. Hell, there aren´t even crystal ponies so she´s almost as bad the racist snape guy.

Kinda standard but good episodes.

7/10

703: “So sis, when are you gonna leave?”

“The town?”

“The show…”

I said it once, I´ll said it again, Maud overstayed her welcome. She´s no longer funny and feels like a creator pet by now.

That said the episode itself is actually really good.

Confalone GETS pinkie and gives he an actual character and this was honestly better handled that with Twilight.

Hell for a second I thought Pinkie was gonna have to deal with her own since her meeting with the guy has all the elements of a meet cute scene =P

I could live without the stupid opening scene but it seems even Pinkie realized Maud was being offensive to her audience there…

A really fun Pinkie episode to add to the pile

8/10

804 “thank you for calling me, Rarity. I can surely help you with all my sewing knowledge”

“Oh for this episode I´ll need you to forget about all that, darling and be completely useless”

So yeah, this was a waste of time.

So the mane six can´t help Rarity with her store but have plenty of time to go yell at Fluttershy?

And if Rarity hates the ponies of Saddle Row so much why does she enve sells them clothes?

I actually hate how they´re all portrayed cause they´re feeding the stereotype that people into fashion are shallow and petty and the whole point of Rarity´s character was to subvert that!

I only laughed at one joke in the whole episode.

So yeah another terrible fluttershy episode to add to the pile

2/10

805 The real reason Rainbow flies so fast...to escape her gay for applejack thoughts.

So a perfectly okay episode.

In other seasons it would have gone unnoticed but in this one it stands out for having solid writing.

It was fun and rainbow was very likeable here since she honestly seemed more concern about the grannies than anything.

It feels a bit stretched out but this is normal for a pony episode.

I do hope she kicks Applejack's behind the second she came back to town though…

A fun Rainbow episode.

7/10

806 “Girls, while you wasted time trying to help that kid with divorced parents I acciBURPddentally destroyed a scared statue so we better run, you bastards!” then Twilight pulls a rick an actually leaves them behind =P

SO yeah a complete waste of time.

I understand the point but it doesn't work for me since it seems like they made the problem way too simple.

I also dislike the hippogriffs on principle since i find I them really lame characters so…

Oh and this episode has the WORST song in the entire show. Hell is not even a song, is just words with music behind it.

So yeah, pretty lame episode.

2/10

807 “See Twilight, Sunset would have just told me things straight to my face! Then try to stab me in the back but the point remains…”

I already talked about this back when it aired and yeah, my opinion hasn't changed.

This isn´t a Celestia episode, is another of Twilight´s poorly made panic attacks ones.

We learned absolutely nothing about Celestia, she learns nothing at all and we wasted twenty minutes of our lives.

For a fan of the character, waiting nine years for this is nothing but an insult.

The saddest thing is knowing that the show will end without having a proper celestia episode.

So yeah, a total waste of time with only the adorable sunbutt to save some face

4/10

808 “You noticed all the wanted posters for you on the way here, Starlight?”

“No, actually not”

“yeah me neither, good thing you´re friends with a princess…”

Really, how come Starlight is NOT a wanted criminal? The episode could have dealt with her hometown disowning her but nope, is just a kinda lame sitcom situation.

Hell, it would have been better if we´re told the parents hooked up and now Starlight and Sunburst feel all kind of awkard but nope.

i suppose there´s like a moral lesson in here but the episode was so dull I don't even remember it.

It could have been a better story but it amounts to nothing.

3/10

809 “And to think this all started over a parking lot…”

“you don´t even need the parking lot, Rainbow!”

THAT would have been a better premise…

So yeah, remember season 1? Cool ,cause this is the exact same episode. Nothing new added and nothing interesting happens.

Go watch the leaf episode instead, is way better.

3/10

810 “Wait, Big Mac has a what now? How come nopony told me? Do I look like a jealous sister or something?”

“the shotgun isn't helping, AJ…”

Have they really interacted these two? I mean, don´t want a repeat of the same storyline. Infact, showing that Applejack and Sugar whatever get along well will be an interesting episode.

Far more interesting than this for sure.

I was bored the entire time and shut up, sweetie Belle. You'll be lucky to have Snips…

Another time waster.

2/10

811 “Spike, can´t you just masturbate like a regular teenager? I mean you have your own room now so it won´t be weird for me anymore…”

Again, remember season 2? Go watch that instead.

It even made more sense back then but now spike not knowing “how to dragon” has become a huge plot hole cause there´s absolutely no reason for him not to know these things so this entire conflict is pointless.

Oh and him having wings is something I don't really like.

Explain how he didn't have those during season 2 when he grew, hasbro! ANother lame Spike episode to the bad spike episodes pile.

2/10

812 “Girls, you rather go to a school where you dont´do any homework, play games all day, het to eat delicious food..actually I´m leaving too, school closed!”

So yeah do they do anything at Twilight school other than waste time? No wonder the CMC want to go there! Wasting time is their entire MO nowadays since they have their marks!

Prety standard episode, is honestly just to introduce the villain.

The only really fun thing is the “your mom” bit, I would have approved her out of that alone.

It´s okay, sadly can´t say more.

6/10

813 “Evil clones, what was I thinking? Dinosaurs, that´s a proper supervillain plan!”

MEH I mean it´s an okay episode but when you get to it is just repeating stuff from the first discord episode, nothing new. nothing gained.

That should be the motto of this season.

MEH

6/10

814 “Discord, what part of go to hell don´t you get?”

“The part where you forgot to tell me to stay there”

This episode is horrible!

What´s the moral lesson, be an asshole and get away with everything?

WHy the hell does Starlight apologizes? Why is HER problem that Discord feels bad? The idiot should take it on Twilight and she ahs a perfect reason not to let him in the school..Discord is an asshole! As this episode demonstrated!

Can he just...leave, please?

Worst episode of the season.

1/10

815 “Twilight, shouldn't we invite Zecora one of these days?”

“You wanna explain Kwanzaa to the viewers, Rainbow?”

ZZZZZZZZZ

Oh what? Oh yeah this episode.

Look I get the point and being objective there's nothing wrong with this episode but my god, tiw as boring!

Just the same bit repeated over and over and over and over…

Whatever, technically there's nothing wrong with it but I didn't like it.

6/10

816 “So mono means one and rail menas...no wait, wrong scam. Calls dismissed!”

“Slow down bro, so who´s the princess of friendship then?”

“The one with the eyepatch!”

“BLAST!”

So...a perfectly normal episode.

Again, this show always suffers from not having a b plot going on so the conflict get  a bit stretched but as an episode, it was well done.

Hey snape is right that Friendship IS a weapon in this universe, glad someone finally mentioned it.

There´s actually a good moral lesson about how no matter if the lessons are good if the methods are fraudulent which coming from Hasbro is the ultimate irony.

Flim Flam are kinda overdone at this point but it still works.

7/10

817 “Remember that time you left me in the desert with pinkie?”

“Oh sure, everything looks bad when you remember it…”

Actually a pretty good episode.

I mean the premise relies on twilight´s students being borderline sociopaths (guys, is not that complex of an idea, friends can disagree on things) but the episode itself it was really fun and the Raridash wa adorable.

I honestly liked it.

8/10

818 “I mean we could have get you a teacher and encouraged to get better through a montage but insulting you and hurting your feelings seemed like a better idea, pinkie”

Way to handle a problem, girls!

What part of this is supportive” pinkie? Your friends were assholes to you that made you feel bad so you stop bothering them and then come looking for you because is a problem for THEM?

There´s a better lesson about admitting you may not have the talent for something, which is a lesson that kids DO need to learn but since the problem is solved with a “who cares?” the moral lesson doesnt´work and nobody really learns anything here.

Who approved of this crap?

2/10

819 “I say someone must have  said a funny because your mother is in stitches hahaha! I´ll leave you to your grief, Starlight.”

Finally a good episode!

Actually an excellent one. Coupled with a catchy song and really good dialogue, my man Haber can make a really good episode when he wants.

I have zero complains this was the best episode of the season.

10/10

820 “That´s it I´m taking you to your parents or in its defect your lesbian aunts that cannot be seen in the show due to television censorship policies!”

I´m sorry but cootalo was a brat the entire episode in need of a good spanking.

Rainbow did absolutely nothing wrong and that gid set gogin around here is full of lies.

If anything she was a bit rash over the fact that yeah, the little girl she sees a sister suddenly is throwing her away...again, cause she did it with the maredowell thing also. Funny they didn´t mention it, probably to appease the fandom.

As an episode is nothing bad, Rainbow actually comes out great here so yeah, Scootaloo, you're grounded..as in put in a hole in the ground.

Good episode

8/10

821 “All me friend are long dead…”

“Yeah yeah, lovely. Fill this form here, big guy…”

What's wrong with Twilight this episode? Why is she such an insensitive idiot?

It was pretty clear the obvious solution was just giving him a classroom with no walls and guess what, that´s what she does alter on so what gives?

And why are SPike and SMoulder allowed to burns the school every day?

An dhow come Rockhoof has no job in “modern equestria”? there used to be plenty of things wanting to eat the ponies every week, did they disappear in between seasons or what?

Really stupid episode that only works by everybody bieng assholes to an actually nice guy.

2/10

822 “Look at the bright side Rainbow. We got replaced by a new cast but at least we didn't die horrible on the movie like the transformers did…”

grumble grumble this is actually a really good episode.

I mean I could argue they have already dome similar stuff but it make sense here. The tree of harmony finally gets some light on it and this actually helps make the students look less lame by giving them character so...yeah, it´s actually really good.

Damnit.

9/10

823 “Oh shoot we forgot to invite them to the school!”

“It's okay, Twilight forgot to invite like half of the country as well…”

grumble grumble another really good episode!

I honestly though this episode was gonna suck but it turns out to be one of the best.

It´s obviously a previously unaired episode that they managed to shove into here but is actually a really good so I have zero complains about it.

The kirin is actually really cute and I liked the song so…

9/10

824 “So kid have you seen stuart little?”

“No.”

“Then this whole thing is gonna be new for you…”

So yeah...as an episode is okay but I´l argue that even the target audience could saw this coming a mile away.

My only real problem is that Spike barely apologizes to TWilight despite hurting her so much. Why is he such a brat? Twilight is nothing but a loving and supportive sister to him, look at that opening scene, si so lovely an touching!

Why does the show keep treating Twilight caring for her sibling and treating him like an equal as a bad thing? She even offers to let him go and learn more about his culture, she is supporting and loving why do they keep treating her like she´s doing a bad thing? and again kind of a big plothole nowdays  with dragons going around Equestria with no problems.

Other than that is a fine episode.

7/10

825-826 “Since we´re stuck here where the little filly´s room?”

“There is no little filly´s room in tartarus…”

“NOOOOOOO!”

Really, who built this prison Barry allen? Give them a bucket at least .

Again...actually really good episodes.

The action was good,the stakes were high, while that poor manticore shouldn't be there I still like the good detail than monsters have been kept her since past seasons and than the mane six honestly don´t hold a grudge against them, hope there´s an actual redemption arc down the line and they don't just forget about them like with the other villains,

Speaking of that, Cozy is probably the best vilian on the entire show.Hell, she´s better than Thanos cause she doesn't have an stupid justification, she just want s POWAAAAA! And she´s damn adorable and effective, she almost won.

Still They missed a chance to say that the missing magic was going to the human world to tie things up with Equestria girls for once and who the hell delivers letters to tartarus anyways?

The finally more than makes up and gives almost everyone a chance to shine so I like it. The mane six were treated with a LOT more respect than in the damn movie that's for sure.

Good solid episodes.

8/10

So that´s season 8, is not that bad honestly.. Had they had a better focus it would be better. Continuity is still a bit of a mess and just saying past stuff doesn't count but hey they´re trying.

Now I have like 40 Equestria Girls episodes to catch up though…

[imlostinatunnel]

Candy Canes

Casual Christmas fluff! Merry Christmas, you wonderful people you!

Jack was not a man built for stealth, but when necessary he could call upon an earlier time in his life, a time where he was trained in such techniques. His objective was just across the room. In and out, he thought to himself. No time for games.

But this was far from a game, possibly one of the most important assignments of his career. He brushed the thought away. No time for that kind of pressure when his objective was in his reach.

Click.

The lights came to life and a thin, familiar figure stood under the archway leading into the kitchen. “And just what do you think you’re doing, Mr. Grinch?”

Jack turned, meeting the stern face and posture of Angela with her arms crossed and foot tapping the floor. He waited, hoping it was a rhetorical question. Her silence and constant eye contact said otherwise. “I was just. You know. Doing kitchen stuff?”

“You were trying to sneak another candy cane, weren’t you?”

“Of course not! There are plenty of other things I do in the kitchen you know.”

Angela’s face remained unchanged.

“Fine, yes! You caught me.”

Walking toward him, Angela plucked the cane from his hand. She placed it back into the bowl he snuck it out from. “You have eaten more than your fair share of these, Jack.”

“Oh come on. I’ve only eaten three, maybe four?”

“Try sixteen. In two days. It’s my turn for a couple.”

He took a moment to process the number. “Okay, so I was a little off.”

“I’m no dentist, but too many of these can be bad for your mouth and teeth.” She unwrapped a candy cane that had a similar pattern to her holiday sweater. A majority of red with white stripes that spiraled around the cane. In Jack’s opinion, the pattern looked better on her than the candy cane. “I tend to kiss the lips attached to that mouth, you know. I’d like it to stay healthy,” she said, playfully nibbling and licking the tip of the cane.

“I’d like to think I’d know that. I was there a couple of times for it.”

Angela smirked. “At least a couple. Come on, you’re gonna help me wrap a few gifts for our friends.” She latched the hooked end of the cane onto Jack’s shirt collar and lightly pulled him out of the kitchen with her.

The bedroom was a mess. Wrapping paper was scattered all over the floor with pieces of tape mixed in. The gifts that she did manage to wrap looked to be on the verge of falling apart. Angela continued to bite down on her candy cane, only about half way through with it.

“Weren’t you a surgeon, better yet a head surgeon? I thought you were good with your hands,” Jack said.

“Hey, the cuts in the paper are cleaner than the sanitary rooms I operated in.”

Jack picked up a piece of discarded wrapping paper and un-balled it. Sure enough the cuts were clean and angled at a perfect ninety degrees. “Good lord. I can’t cut a smooth line like this to save my life.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to wrap anything,” she said.

“Well, I can show you a thing or two in the art of gift wrapping.”

“Oh, this is an art now?”

“Angela, you are looking at the second place finalist for speed-gift wrapping in the back in Indiana.”

“Who’s the first?”

“My mother.”

Angela giggled, reaching the hooked end of the candy cane. “I think one demonstration will do,” she said, handing him a box to wrap.

Jack opened one of the flaps to have a peek. Inside was an over-sized glass mug hidden in miniature styrofoam peanuts. He flicked the side with his finger nail and listened to the ring slowly fade away. On the thick glass, no, inside the glass held the laser-engraving of a slightly 3-D crusader in full armor, proudly holding a banner sporting their motto. Unfortunately, Jack was a bit rusty on his German. “For Reinhardt, I’m guessing?”

“Think he’ll like it?”

“I think you might want to prepare for one of his infamous bear hugs. I didn’t think these could be found anymore.”

“It took me half a year to track one down. Be gentle when wrapping it.”

“Yes, ma’am. Wrapping paper, please?”

Angela cut him a fresh sheet of paper. A perfect rectangle.

“That is still impressive,” he said. “Ok, so the rick is keeping the paper tight on the edges and keeping the creases smooth. You take these two ends and fold them like this...”

Angela swore she only blinked once, maybe twice. It looked like he flipped it over and the paper magically wrapped around the box.

“... And tah-dah! For added measure, you can tape down the sides.”

Angela crunched down on the last of her cane. “Right, any chance you can do that again at a speed visible to the human eye? Actually, why don’t I cut and you wrap?”

“Will I get a candy cane afterwards?”

“Maybe something a little sweeter than a candy cane.” She gave him a wink. “Until then, get Fareeha’s gift ready.”

“We decided that was the pirate gear set, right?”

“Yeah. Ana told me she is still going through her pirate-phase. She said she won’t stop shouting ‘Avast ye!’” She snipped the rectangle out of the roll of paper and handed it to Jack. She watched as he had it wrapped perfectly in but a few seconds. Seeing is believing, but she was still working on the believing part.

Jack and Angela sat among the wrapped gifts for their friends. Jack spun a tiny wreath between his hands. Its lights flickered in its pre-set pattern to perpetually spiral around the wreath. Angela sat against the bed, stacking some of the smaller gifts.

Jack set the wreath on her head, putting her pony-tail through the hole.

“And what’s this for?” she asked.

“Every angel should have a halo, right?”

“God, Jack. You are so cheesy.”

“Would you love me if I wasn’t?”

“Now who said I loved you?” She re-adjusted her ‘halo’.

“You did. About fifteen times a couple nights ago. I’m sure the neighbors can vouch for me. They must have heard it.”

“Oh stop it, you!” she giggled. She gave him a light shove.

“I still want my candy cane,” Jack said.

“Well you got to do one thing.” She stood up, hands on her hips. “You have to unwrap her first.” She enjoyed Jack’s pause before jumping to action. “See if you can get her to sixteen this time.”

[efortmanteau]

Mouth Dreams!

MOUTH DREAMS IS OUT!!!!!! 

Neil Cicierega has produced another mashup album in the Mouth series, so it’s time for me to do a blind album listen. 

I’m just listening to the full album file on Neil’s website while I type so I can’t see track titles… so I’ll guess at them! A fun little mini game.

You can listen online or download the album on Neil’s site: http://www.neilcic.com/mouthdreams/

1. Yahoooooooo! Prelude

The first song is just the Yahoo! jingle with the “hooooo” increasingly long

And eventually going into a round!

I’m not sure what the orchestral backing is, probably from a movie

2. Intro to Mouth Dreams

Intro to The Twilight Zone but the words are all over the place lol

Hey! “Mouth Dreams” that’s the title of the album! Gee willickers!

3. We Will Sponge You

We Will Rock You by Queen… oh.

It’s the intro to Spongebob Squarepants

Alright hell yeah

This is so stupid but so well done dear lord

4. Folsom Prison Baby Blues

Oh no… that emo band… I forget them

HOOBASTANK that’s it. The Reason

I don’t actually know this other song.

Oh jk he shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

I think that’s Johnny Cash? Idk the title of the song though.

JUSTIN BEIBER’S BABY

Alright we’re fucking around with “baby” lyrics?

“My momma was a train” lol

“When I was just a train”

“I shot a traaaaaain” yes yes yes

Okay, I looked up the Johnny Cash song to come up with a track title guess.

5. Can’t Touch This Psycho Killer OR Bed’s On Fire

Can’t Touch This! I think the song is called Superfreak though?

Hmmm what’s this other song…

Bed’s on fire

Psycho killer… bed’s on fire… looooool

Ok that song is maybe called Psycho Killer

I’m just waiting for fa-fa-fa-fa-faaaa-fafa-faaaa-fafa-faaaaa-FIRE

Hell yeah saxophone

Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeah to the cadence of runrunrunrunrunnnnn

6. Harpsichord Interlude?

Harpsichord?

I can’t quite make out the lyrics cuz they’re slowed down…

Get Happy, alright

I’m not sure if this is the same song of the last thing was an interlude but it seems like the harpsichord thing persisted soooo maybe the same?

Well maybe this is the only lyric now

The word “happy” has no meaning to my ears any more

Hmm techno kinda beats in the back… reminds me of the back of a Black Eyed Peas song or something

7. Ribs OR Everybody Wants Chili’s Baby Back Ribs

Dreamy triplets

I want my baby back ribs?????

Oh shit what is that guitar riff…

Haaaaaaaaa Chiliiiiiii’s baby back riiiiibs

I don’t wantcha I don’t needcha… oh gosh

THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE

Hahaha the Lion King has snuck in here for “In The Jungle”

OH the guitar backing is Everybody Wants To Rule The World (or whatever the real song title is)

8. Dream Stew

Dream On by Aerosmith

This was in the trailer, yes

Brain Stew by Green Day

My mouth my mouth my mouth

“My face is… my face” is the perfect amount of clunky

9. Do Wanna Miss A Thing

Everclear? Everlong? 

I think it’s the Foo Fighters???

Lol the vibrato on this other song is wild

“I don’t miss you baby and I do wanna miss a thing” looool

Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing… idk the band off hand

10. Sleeping With My Clothes On

Lol just… staccato beats with the bass dropping whenever it wants

Blink 182?? Own Worst Enemy?

I see sleeping with clothes on and I raise you... wearing PJs all day (like me)

11. That’s Amore OR Drunk Italians

ITALIAN PIZZA PIE

Lol the lyrics are of course backwards

The wiggly accordion...

BELLS

We’re just tossing noun phrases around like a juggler

Fading out in nightmarish ways as we transition to the next song...

PiiIiIiiIIIzzA

12. Stacy’s Mom’s Pool

“stop.”

Uhhh is this Weezer?

Omg Stacy’s MOM

It think it’s Say It Ain’t So by Weezer

We’re gonna hear a lot about this pool

Hmm it’s not Say It Ain’t So…

It might be In My Mind

More dreamy transitions

13. Noogie OR Cookie

Omg what is this Amazonian flute

Ooooh funky

SHAQ??

The siiiize of these eeeyeeeees

Is this “How I Beat Shaq” ??

Nah, I think this is a song I don’t know

I did it all for the noogie!

Idk if the backing song is the same song as the front… I’m just not familiar with these ones

Surrender… my cookie!

I feel like the Home Improvement jingle is gonna slip in here

14. Never mind i think this is one long song

Han Solo?

This is maybe a different song

Some sort of Star Wars word soup with a CAKE-esque bass backing?

Is this a child’s chorus? Sesame Street?

I wonder who did the Star Wars song… 

Oh maybe this is one long song after all…

14. Crazy: Now On VHS

This sounds like a VHS jingle…

Oh lol there it is

Yep yep yep yep yep give me them ALL Neil!

Oh good the loooooong note

Ooh what just came in?

She Drives Me Crazy? Ooh Ooh?

Oh yeah, nailed it… but idk the band again

Lol there’s like 20 more minutes we’re only ⅔ through or so

Ooh I like whatever this four note repetition is

15. Now On VHS! Interlude

And now… our feature presentation…

The Outsiders??

Pony Boy?

We’re just… naming things?

I assume this is one of those old VHS pre-movie commercials where someone is talking about what a great deal this 3-pack of discs is or something

BUMBLEBEE TUNA

Tag urself.... I’m DEATH

I’m literally loling at DEATH

Kid Cuisineeeee

Lonesome guitar coming in…

And… LOL

Rick Astley and A CROWD OF BOOS

Lean in, Neil. Embrace the chaos.

Never Gonna Give You Up is a pretty good song actually

Oh the guitar might be Hurt by… whoever did that

16. Closer To Fireflies

Drop the Arctic Monkeys you coward

Fireflies and Suffocate Me instead

That’s not the title… Fuck you like an animal…

I’d like to------make myself believe (not------PENETRATE YOU) but I see where this came from

Closer To God, that’s right

This and the Spongebob one are my favs so far

17. Benny And The Best

Benny And The Jets…

Uhhh I’m not sure about the punk song

The Best? The Best? The Best? Arouuuund? Is this also the Foo Fighters? U2?

I’m not sure this is its own song

18. Factory With A Girl

UHHH this stressful video game music…

It’s like the factory song from cartoons, not a video game specifically

Fell In Love With A Girl

Oooh jk this my fav, it’s so jazzy

Oh god the manic energy of the “ahhhhhh” part

I think Jet is the band?

This makes me want to walk down the street in a zoot suit snapping every other beat

19. WAHNNABE

WHAT IS IT GOOOOOD FOR

Wait omg it’s WAH

WAH-NNABE

WAH Wario?

WAH… what is it good for loooool

20. Feel Good LLC

Sheep noises?

FEEL GOOD intro laugh

Oh this is unhinged

Omg that music in the back sounds like what going crazy is like, it’s like an evil carnival

The Gorillaz, always good

Lol the sheep noises at the end

21. Irony On Elm Street

Ironic by Alanis Morrisette… okay

He died the next day… then turned 98…

It’s an old man in your chardonnay

IT’S LIKE RAIN omg idk the backing but it’s ominous

I swear to god this backing is from like Nightmare on Elm Street or Halloween or something

Kissed his spoons goodbye

I think it’s whatever horror movie has Jason who I think is the one in the hockey mask?

It’s exactly like 10,000 spoons

22. idk

The winds of Skype

Uhhh some kind of 80s ballad is fading in

SMASH MOUTH YOU’RE HERE

All Star is warbled

WAKE UP

23. Britney’s Fifth

Beethoven’s Fifth?

IT’S BRITNEY, BITCH

Oh fuck yes this is one million percent my jam

24. Hall Of Weezer

HALL OF THE MOUNTAIN KING

Omg I love classical mashups

BANJO KAZOOIE SLEEPING NOISE OMG

Oh lol this is Weezer Say It Ain’t So

Oh gosh the tempo speed up is impressive for the Weezer song which is usually at a steady tempo! Dear god how long did this take to sync…

Modem load up noise… nice

And that’s the album! I might respond to myself and add a retrospective later once I find the track titles.

[the-pirate-ninja]

ALL THE NUMBERS OuO

— 1. Who was the last person you held hands with?My fiance2. Are you outgoing or shy?Shy by far. Unless my job depends on it 3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?My best friend who has been out of town for a few weeks 4. Are you easy to get along with?I can be 5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Absolutely6. What kind of people are you attracted to?Many a people, mostly just those who share my interests7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?Yes I do8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?My best friend9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?No not in the slightest10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?My fiance11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?"Just did"12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?Handclap by Fitz and the TantrumsCold by Maroon 5Other than that I just listen to music13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?Y E S 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?I do yes15. What good thing happened this summer?I got engaged16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?Of course 17. Do you think there is life on other planets?What proof do we have against it? 18. Do you still talk to your first crush?No I don't19. Do you like bubble baths?Those are my shit20. Do you like your neighbors?Don't even know any of them. But the one I know I like21. What are you bad habits?Fingernail biting and lip biting22. Where would you like to travel?Japan and some parts of Europe23. Do you have trust issues?Yes I do. But who doesn't24. Favorite part of your daily routine?Waking up to my fiance every morning25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?Funny joke, the answer is all of it26. What do you do when you wake up?Look to my right smile27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?Darker tbh28. Who are you most comfortable around?My closest friends. 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?Nope not as of yet 30. Do you ever want to get married?Yes, I am engaged after all31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?Yes it is 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?Anyone that Ryan Reynolds or Adam Levine told me to33. Spell your name with your chin.Fibutbkn (Robyn)34. Do you play sports? What sports?Nope, unless gaming is one35. Would you rather live without TV or music?TV 36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?I have yes37. What do you say during awkward silences?Nothing. I don't break that shit38. Describe your dream girl/guy?My fiance. Nothing more or less 39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?Macy's and GameStop 40. What do you want to do after high school?Get a perfect job out of the gate41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?I do42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?I am thinking about everything43. Do you smile at strangers?I do, since I'm awkward 44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?Bottom of the ocean45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?The 4 cats we live with for breakfast46. What are you paranoid about?Everything47. Have you ever been high?Many a time48. Have you ever been drunk?Many a time before49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?Not really. Most things I'm open with it people ask50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Black51. Ever wished you were someone else?All the time52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?My physical gender53. Favourite makeup brand?Elf54. Favourite store?Old game stores55. Favourite blog?Mine obvs56. Favourite colour?Pink 57. Favourite food? Sushi58. Last thing you ate?Bagel59. First thing you ate this morning?Bagel60. Ever won a competition? For what?Yes, a sm4sh tournament 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?Nope62. Been arrested? For what?Nope63. Ever been in love?Am currently64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?Kinda spur of the moment thing. Nothing to special65. Are you hungry right now?Always and yet never66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?Some yes67. Facebook or Twitter?Facebook68. Twitter or Tumblr?Tumblr69. Are you watching tv right now?Nope70. Names of your bestfriends? Logan and Lily71. Craving something? What?Yes, mineral 😆72. What colour are your towels?Various72. How many pillows do you sleep with?I sleep with one but there are 4 on our bed73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?Of course74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?Way too many to count75. Favourite animal?Tarantula 76. What colour is your underwear?Black77. Chocolate or Vanilla?Vanilla78. Favourite ice cream flavour?Caramel anything79. What colour shirt are you wearing?Red and grey 80. What colour pants?Dark blue 81. Favourite tv show?Rick and Morty right now82. Favourite movie?Pacific Rim83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?Mean Girls84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?Mean Girls85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?Mrs. George86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?Dory87. First person you talked to today?My fiance88. Last person you talked to today? Their younger sister89. Name a person you hateMy ex, Holli90. Name a person you love?My mother91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?My ex, Holli92. In a fight with someone?Nope93. How many sweatpants do you have?1 pair unless you count leggings, then 294. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?So many 95. Last movie you watched?Alien: Resurrection96. Favourite actress?Rinko Kikuchi97. Favourite actor?Ryan Reynolds98. Do you tan a lot?Not really. I'm either mayonnaise white or lobster red99. Have any pets?Yes 4 cats 100. How are you feeling?Meh101. Do you type fast?Ridiculously for only using 2 or 4 fingers102. Do you regret anything from your past?Oh God yes103. Can you spell well?N u I D u n k n o w a t u t a k b o u t104. Do you miss anyone from your past?A few people105. Ever been to a bonfire party?Yep106. Ever broken someone’s heart?Not that I know of107. Have you ever been on a horse?Yes108. What should you be doing?Not sure109. Is something irritating you right now?Not really110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?Yeah111. Do you have trust issues?I do yes112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?My fiance113. What was your childhood nickname?Jibbles and now Bug114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?Yep115. Do you play the Wii?A shit ton116. Are you listening to music right now?Nope117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?Yes118. Do you like Chinese food?Yes119. Favourite book?Lost World120. Are you afraid of the dark?Kinda121. Are you mean?Can be122. Is cheating ever okay?Not on your partner123. Can you keep white shoes clean?Yes124. Do you believe in love at first sight?Yes125. Do you believe in true love?Yes126. Are you currently bored?Nope127. What makes you happy?Waking up with my fiance and giving them shit because they don't know they're gifts that I gives hints to. 128. Would you change your name?From my legal name yes129. What your zodiac sign?Capricorn130. Do you like subway?I do yes131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?Ask why132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?My fiance133. Favourite lyrics right now?Don't ever let life kill your spark134. Can you count to one million?Yes, but it will take me a while135. Dumbest lie you ever told?I didn't dent the wall136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?Open. Cats like to wander137. How tall are you?6'4"138. Curly or Straight hair?For me straight139. Brunette or Blonde?Blonde140. Summer or Winter?Winter141. Night or Day?Night142. Favourite month?January143. Are you a vegetarian?Hell no144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?White chocolate145. Tea or Coffee?Both honestly146. Was today a good day?So far yep147. Mars or Snickers?Snickers148. What’s your favourite quote?Fall down 7 times, get up 8149. Do you believe in ghosts?I do150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? "...be accompanied by our trained local staff in a fully air conditioned coach. It's a very well-organized trip." It's from Cosmic by Frank Cottrell Boyce

[syntax6]

La Familia

She grows up easy with two loving parents and a closet full of expensive shoes—a good girl used to having good things given to her. Hell, she even has a pony. His name is Zippy and she takes excellent care of him, rubbing him down after exercise, mucking his stall, because he is beautiful and she wants to remain worthy of him. After all, you get what you deserve. She carries this noble idea with her out into the world, where she finds no satisfaction in the secretarial pool. She decides instead to become a cop, and her parents are horrified. If she really must go after criminals, they argue, can’t she just become a lawyer instead? But Dee Dee’s seen the slick and shiny lawyers up close through her father’s business dealings. Some might be crusading for good, but others are morally crippled and they all wear the same dark suits so you can’t tell which side any one is really on. Not until it’s far too late. Her first day on the job, she is bright-eyed and eager to help people. It hasn’t been two hours before Benny took that call put them in East Compton on a day registering triple digits on the thermometer. Six floors up, no elevator, and Benny is huffing pretty good by the time they find the apartment with the woman, high as a kite with blood in her eyes and a knife in her hands. The man has broken knuckles from hitting her and a slice down the side of his arm from where she hit back. Each one swears the other one started it. Dee Dee radios for medics. She takes their statements for her reports, but there aren’t enough lines on the page to get to the bottom of who did what to whom and when. The couple has scars going back ten years. 

She entirely gives up on the guiding hand on fate when her husband Steve is killed. There is nothing to convince her that this is a greater good, that the bullet had his name on it for a reason. She vows to find not only his killer but all the killers he would have caught. That one bullet to Steve’s chest signs a hundred other death warrants; the men just don’t know it yet. After the funeral, her parents make her Earl Grey tea and set it alongside a slice of poppy seed cake. She watches the tea cooling and wonders why they can’t ever remember she takes coffee now. She has for years. Her mother comforts the other mourners in a low, soothing voice while Dee Dee uses her fork to pick off the seeds from the top of the cake one-by-one. She passes the detective’s exam on the first try with a near-perfect score. The Chief is pleased, eager to make an example of her, but she just wants to do her job. The men around her mutter under their breath, words she tries not to hear. Someone shoves a G-string through the hole in her locker and she throws it away when no one is looking. She tells herself they will eventually get used to her presence. They will have no choice because she sure as hell isn’t going anywhere. Her partners grudgingly accept her when they see she knows her stuff, but she can’t seem to keep one around for more than a couple of months. Bill Parker takes a bullet to the thigh during their pursuit of a gangbanger down at The Nickel. Joe Thorten injures his back in a high-speed car chase. (How is this possible, Dee Dee wonders, since he was sitting down the entire time?) Al Lowell had a heart attack—his second—and now they’re going to make him retire at age forty-five. Dee Dee asks herself how many partners she has to go through before the Brass will accept the fact that she’s better off alone. She is not yet thirty but she lives among the widows and widowers of the Garden Crest apartments—men and women who are more than twice her age. She sleeps in a giant bed with a dozen stuffed animals but all the teddy bears in the world don’t make up for one beating heart. Her refrigerator has coffee creamer in it, and milk for cereal. Her freezer is stocked with microwave meals for one. Mrs. Rosencrantz about keels over in shock when she sees Dee Dee leave for work dressed in fishnet stockings, knee-high boots and a leather miniskirt that barely covers her ass. Dee Dee gives her a tight smile and a short wave. She will dress like a snake charmer if that’s what it takes to bring down King Hayes. The men at the precinct look at her much the same way the men on the streets do—she can feel their eyeballs on her neck. It doesn’t bother her to dress in skimpy clothes that reveal half her skin. They can all stare as much as they want to. No one has really seen her in years. XXX He is eight years old when cousin Solly dies. The family dresses all in black and they stand around the grave while the priest says God’s love always forgives. God might forgive, but Uncle Mike does not, and Rick is twelve when he realizes that it’s Mike who put Solly in the ground. His father looked the other way and he urges Rick to do the same. Rick’s dad is still looking the other way three years later when the bullet hits him from behind. Rick’s eyes are too good to stay in this family. He can reliably shoot the C off a Coke can from twenty-five yards away. His mother cries when he joins the Marines and ships off to Nam, but he feels the certainty of the solid metal in his hands and welcomes the jungle. Point him at the enemy. Bring it on. But the soldiers on the other side, some of them are children. Others are nameless, faceless cowards hiding in the dark. He watches helpless as his buddies die with their boots on, steeped in rice water. He weeps silently for them at night and wonders what the hell they’re all doing here in the weeds, fighting someone else’s war. He returns home after one year with a scar on his left leg and an appreciation for the taste of Saigon cinnamon, bird’s eye chili and long coriander. No one in the family can believe it when he joins the force, not even his mother. Your father would be rolling over in his grave, she tells him. Rick reminds her that it’s family, not the cops, who put him there. Uncle Dom is initially hopeful that he can use Rick as a man on the inside, but Rick shuts him down hard. Someone, probably little Joey, slashes Rick’s tires that night in retaliation. Rick takes to driving one of the junkyard beaters the precinct hands out, and the family leaves him alone. Very alone. The cops are sure he’s playing for the other side, even when his collars start piling up higher than the Head of D’s. No one makes friendly talk. No one wants to get punked when the truth comes out. Cain sets the tone, and he’s on full mutiny. He demands that Hunter see the department psychologist, thinks he needs to get shrunk. Rick marvels at the irony and how the Captain doesn’t see it: Hunter’s already on an island of one and he’s convinced himself he likes it that way. He can’t possibly shrink any further. XXX They’re not really partners, barely more than strangers even, but he’s already seen more of her than any man in the past two years. She’s got a short pink robe on now, with fuzzy slippers to match, and even this is an admission she’d sooner keep to herself: this is how I dress when I’m alone. She drains the bubble bath while he prowls around her kitchen. “Do you have anything to eat?” he calls back to her. It’s past eleven, but all she’s had tonight is some peanuts at the bar, and adrenaline’s chewed right through those. Her stomach rumbles at the prospect of more. “Um, I’m not sure,” she hollers back. She finds him staring into her freezer with its neat stack of frozen foods and feels her face go hot at what he’s really seeing. Hunter doesn’t seem to notice her embarrassment. “The fettuccini alfredo’s not bad, but the veal piccata is the worst,” he says as he shuts the door. “Why don’t I run down the road to Sacco’s? They’re open for another hour and everything’s half-price ‘til closing. Their meatballs are the best.” “Yeah, that’s what Vice tells me. I hear they eat there twice a week.” He tilts his head at her, narrows his eyes, and she realizes her mistake. “I didn’t mean…” “I know the guys that run the place,” he says, holding her gaze. “That doesn’t mean I’m one of them.” She cinches her robe a bit tighter. “I know that. I don’t believe the stories. I never did.” He looks amused, not offended. “Oh, yeah?” “Yeah. You don’t even want a partner. I don’t see you comfortable within the confines of La Familia.” He grins. “Dinner’s on me.” “Damn right it is. The landlord is going to bill me for that lock you shot off my front door.” “I was saving your life,” he protests as she walks him to the stairs. “You were ruining my bath.” She has a flash of this as her future—knows if she sticks with him, there will be other ruined baths. Hunter shoots off the locks first and asks questions later. Still, it was something to see him there with his gun out and ready to defend her life. She’s felt like a ghost at times, haunting this place where she used to be happy as a different version of herself. But Hunter came through the door blazing, determined to keep her on this side of the angels, and now she feels more alive than she has for a long time. She shoves him gently at the door. “Hurry back with the food.” At the restaurant, Maria loads him up with meatballs and lasagna and antipasto, soft rolls with little packets of butter, and a thick slice of tiramisu. He takes it back to McCall’s place and they eat until he is stuffed, pregnant with a food baby that he pats with satisfaction. McCall put away a plate to rival his own but she still looks about two sheets thick. She wipes her mouth as she considers him. “What’s Bolin like?” “I told you—he’s a nut.” “No, I mean as a shrink. Did he lay any heavy insights on you?” “Ha. You think I’d tell you if he did?” She tosses the napkin at him, and he catches it one-handed. “It could be interesting, maybe, to have someone analyze you for real,” she says. “Get an outside perspective on who you are.” “I know who I am.” She rolls her eyes. “Yes, as do we all. I’m just saying—it could be nice to talk to someone.” “I am talking to someone. I’m talking to you.” The chair squeaks against the floor as he gets up to make the coffee. One cup, then he will leave. Don’t want to get too comfortable. She clears away the dishes and he pokes around until he finds the mugs. On the top shelf at eye level he finds one in white porcelain with the Academy logo on it. It sits in shadow apart from the others, gathering dust. Dee Dee does her mourning where no one else can see. He takes down two other mugs and pours the coffee. Just cream for him. Cream and sugar for her. She looks down at the cup as he hands it to her. “You know how I like it?” He half shrugs. “I saw you fixing it the other day.” He only has to see things once to remember them. It’s a blessing and a curse. She stares at the mug some more, and then looks at him with a hint of suspicion. “Just what do you want from me?” He considers a moment. “As much as I can get.” She’ll only give up so much, he knows this. In fact, he’s counting on it. When the case is over, they’ll go back to their separate corners. They drink the coffee and then he goes to leave as planned. The broken front door makes him frown. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay here tonight,” he says. She pushes him toward the stairs with enough force to make him move. She is stronger than she looks. “I’ll shove a door under the knob.” “Bolin could be out there right now.” “Great, if he comes in, we’ll have him dead to rights.” She nudges him again and he gets the hint. “Okay, I’m going.” She grabs his arm. “Wait, one thing.” She fishes a slip of paper out from the pocket of her robe and hands it to him. “It’s my home number,” she explains. “I figure next time maybe you could call first before you shoot through my front door.” He studies the paper. Women give him phone numbers all the time, but this one has a weight to it. “Call first,” he says as he stuffs it in his pocket. “Got it.” He goes home to a house full of shadows. The only sound is his own footsteps on the stairs. In bed, he watches as the red numbers on the clock radio tick over to twelve-thirty a.m.. He rubs his nose and reaches for the phone. He doesn’t have to check the number—he’s seen it once and that’s enough. She answers after just one ring. “This number was for emergencies only, Hunter.” He smiles at the sound of her exasperation in the dark. “I just wanted to make sure you got home all right.” “I was already home!” “Oh, then I wanted to make sure you knew I got home all right.” There is a pause. Her answer, when it comes, is both hesitant and gentle. “All right. Yes. I’m glad you’re home okay.” “Night then,” he says. “Night, Hunter.” He hangs up the phone and rolls over. He tucks the pillow under his head and closes his eyes, dreaming already of Bolin’s face when he realizes they’ve nailed him. He doesn’t want to think too hard about the added sweetness, the satisfaction he has now of knowing that she’s out there across town in a bed full of teddy bears, dreaming the same thing.